Author’s Note: I don’t like to break my promises; but the next chapter is taking longer to finish than I expected due to Covid-19, lack of sleep, random mood swings, my indecision over major plot points, and work-related stuff. So please bear with me.

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I thought it was time for a little change of pace before I started making certain decisions about the plot, so here you have it.

In the beginning, inside an empty, timeless void, an entity became aware.

The entity spent countless aeons in seclusion. Awake, but lonely. Aware, but barely. It couldn’t settle on a single form to call its own, for it lacked experience. It gave up on its empty existence. It gave in to slumber, and then it dreamt.

As it dreamt of fantastic things, motes of burning potential left its cradle. These particles coalesced into existence; they swirled and circled, combined and congealed into nebulas that spread endlessly.

Slowly, and over the span of countless aeons, they gathered more potential and converged into tiny kernels. Each kernel was a strong dream that had its own set of rules. When the potential reached a breaking point, these kernels exploded in an act of creation and turned into tangible matter. Violent reactions and countless big bangs erupted and—amongst stranger things—multifarious universes with stars and planets were birthed therein. Each with its own sets of laws and different quirks.

The universes slowly settled and began to develop, and some of these universes eventually contained consciousness. Beings in those universes lived and died, bringing about countless stories and endless tragedies. But in the end, they all shared one origin, and their souls were bound to the particles of potentia, and thus they returned to the unfathomable entity that dreamt them into being.

Through them, the entity experienced everything, every moment of joy and strife, of gain and loss, of success and failure, of love and hatred, and of life and death. And thus it gained new perspectives to reflect and learn more about itself.

As more consciousness sprang into existence, the beings in those dreams dreamt new dreams of their own.

The particles of potentia flowed and migrated into those new and bewildering dreams, building them from nothing into tangible things, and thus new layers of existence came to be.

The worlds in those layers gave birth to new beings, who also dreamt worlds of their own, and thus a cycle was established. With dreams giving birth to new worlds, and new worlds giving rise to new dreams, and all of creation feeding the Dreamer’s insatiable desire for more knowledge, and more experience.

With every successive layer of dreams, things became more tangible and real. From potential, came energy and from energy, formed pseudo-matter; and as things developed, the laws of physics were altered, refined, and perfected.

The pseudo-matter grew more organised. It grew firmer in its immutability, and thus the building blocks of reality and unshakable rules of physics as you know them came into being.

Countless potential universes were dead-ends that couldn’t stabilise enough to give rise to life, since with every new successful layer of reality, the complexity of lifeforms increased, and the presence of free potentia became scarcer and scarcer.

At the terminus, there was no room for allowances; because potentia was completely bound and shackled by its own rules. Due to this, more universes became barren, and the re-emergence of life was much more difficult.

That is how the manifold of existence unfolded, and how the endless threads of potentia converged to give rise to you, at the periphery of this invisible filament that extends all the way back to a single point, to The Cradle of Creation, and the Dreamer slumbering within.

You are beings of the terminus. You are beings of the fringe. You are the giants standing atop the shoulders of countless dreamers who dreamt of perfection and realised their dream.

You are human. One of the precious, golden fruits of ceaseless creation. It falls upon you to end this dream. Gain enlightenment, return to the cradle and complete the cycle of creation. For you are at the apex of everything, standing on the precipice of the cosmos.

Upon your shoulders rests the greatest of burdens: to climb your way through verisimilitudes and reach the Dreamer. End the dream, and unify all creation.

For you are perfect. For you are real.

Awaken the true creator… and shape Him in your image.

Volume[1] will pick back up as soon as I'm able. Standby for more updates!

Stay safe (preferably at home), folks!

Denvar let out a strained breath and laid back on his plush couch. That last chase had really taken something out of him.

His trick with teleportation had cost him greatly in faith points. Denvar almost regretted doing it; but still, he had some left. It was the result of almost three thousand years of faithful worship by the entire Polarii Empire: the legacy of his Harbinger of Strength.

Denvar deemed it a worthy investment, though. The Harbinger of Science had let himself get carried away. He was now in mortal peril. Facing off against an entire Polarii mounted division. Moreover, he let himself be separated from his flock.

It was almost too easy.

Denvar contacted a few other Divines who shared his vision, it was time for them to divvy up and help with what was to come. He’d footed the bill so far, but he wasn’t alone in his goal.

It was time to nip a problem in the bud.

At the thought of this, the sound of another round of mad cackles that could fill the heavens erupted and reached his ears.

He suddenly felt unsure.

They say the number of times that [Corporal] Yaksha was surprised in her life could be counted on a single hand, and it so happened that today was the time to raise another finger.

A suddenly chosen [First Emissary]—that used to be a simple grunt in the Polarii scouting division—had done something no Polarii alive could have ever claimed to do.

He had infiltrated deep behind enemy lines, extracted a well-known apostate of Denvar’s from within the Krell settlement, and teleported with his quarry all the way back to her camp, in hot pursuit, and being chased by the [Harbinger] of Science, no less.

It was an unprecedented event, to be honest. Especially because the airship where he had claimed he was stationed had previously been reported ‘all hands lost’ after an aerial ambush by that vile Krell dragoness.

This Kluraz deserved commendation, she decided.

[Corporal] Yaksha quickly ordered Kluraz to secure the captive inside a tent, and stationed him with the camp guards. It was time to give a warm welcome to this new guest. At her command, she sent a message to the main war encampment a few miles to the south, then her one hundred soldiers quickly formed up, and her support magicians started casting their barriers and various blessings on the melee classes to boost their strength and vitality.

She glanced at the flying figure approaching in the distant sky. This was going to be one interesting encounter.

Aylin Merza sat in darkness, blindfolded and hogtied. She strained to hear the happenings outside the tent through the sounds of thunder and shakings of the earth below her.

She was sure Ethan West was fighting the might of the entire Polarii 11th mounted division outside. The problem was, she knew for sure that he couldn’t win.

She certainly hoped he’d surprise her.

“To the third, fire and support.”

“To the eighth, I need a lightning strike. [Aeromancers], polarise the area, hold your entrapment spells. [Archers], encircle and flank the target.”

From this, she could tell that Ethan West was flying in from the northern front, and zigzagging east and west. The Polarii military used an octagonal compass numbered from one through eight for all cardinal directions.

She could also tell they were using the same suppression tactics which were usually used against powerful mages. She heard the [Corporal] issuing instructions to the nearest squad. [Corporal] Yaksha by the sound of it, or as she was more commonly called: Skysword Yaksha.

She briefly wondered why Ethan was not using his artillery spell to overwhelm them, then remembered her current predicament, that soft fool probably didn’t want to jeopardize her safety.

She could understand that, since she was the hostage and all, but in this situation, it only indicated he didn’t know the forces he was messing with. Polarii mages could handle much worse, and if the contact procedures against powerful [Mages] she knew of still stood…

She wanted to scream at him to flee. If they captured him, it meant her chances for escape from this hell that awaited her went to absolute zero.

A series of loud booms echoed, giving her hope that Ethan had come to his senses, but just then, her worst fear had manifested…

“[Corporal], we’re ready!” A mage shouted.

“Do it, now!” Skysword bellowed.

“[Dispelling Wave!]”

“[Veils of Silence!]”

And then there was only quiet, and a few seconds later, the sound of a distant thud could be heard.

She hated the smug look of superiority that flashed in Kluraz Menza’s eyes as he entered the tent to gloat at her with a snort of derision.

Eragoth chided herself as she soared on her way back to the settlement. That had been an annoying, and perhaps even a childish act on her part.

As it were, she was on her way to help in dealing with that intruder when that stupid otherworlder had ordered the vines of that accursed tree to move. Her knee-jerk reaction at seeing the tide of vines moving her way was to panic.

She remembered well her predicament the last time those vines moved. They could have killed her then. It was the over-sensitised reaction instilled into her by being impervious for almost one thousand years. She’d never felt helpless in all that time, and yet her instincts won over her yet again.

Ethan West had found another chink in her armour.

She shivered as she remembered how the vines had sucked the life out of the Eye of Eternal judgement. Could he have done this to her in that moment of vulnerability when the vines had held her, too?

If so, why hadn’t he done so? He could have taken her position by force, and not through diplomacy like he did.

She’d simply thought him a spineless wimp, back then. His demeanor and conduct reminded her of the soft nobles that lived in other nations, but then when she’d seen his flash of anger after the confrontation with the Beawick—where she’d provoked him too much—her opinion had changed.

She regretted doing that now, but her damned draconic instincts took over her sometimes. It was inevitable.

Now she couldn’t help but shiver at the prospect of such an episode of fury combined with his control of the infernal vines. It was a veritable nightmare. That thought persisted in the back of her mind for the longest time, and when the vines moved today, she was almost expecting it. It triggered something primal inside her. Coupled with the earlier revelation that her mother was still out there, even in spirit form…

She’d fled.

It took her a while to control herself and regain her faculties, but the moment of weakness now fueled her anger as she soared back towards the settlement.

She was flying in her half-dragon form. A full transformation would take too much out of her. Yet… she was tempted. It made her feel powerful and free. Impervious to all but the power of gods, or a real dragon… if those even still existed somewhere in the world.

She landed with a thud. After carefully navigating the huge branches of the massive tree, she couldn’t find anyone anywhere she looked.

Where had they gone?

She watched the site of the confrontation for clues, too many footprints had passed through here, and they all headed away in the direction of the southern gate.

She took off again, headed that way.

It was then, that a notification sounded in her—and simultaneously everyone else’s—head. She gasped as she read the content.

Meanwhile, on a fleet of ancient airships southbound, a number of acolytes belonging to the Church of Magic milled around, some of them overseeing the recharging of the magic crystals powering the airships, some of them rushing to follow the commands of ship captains, whilst some of the higher-ranked members staying in their cabins were enchanting items for their fellow members of the church or immersed deep in study of the arcane arts.

They’d left their church branches in the northern nations at the behest of a divine edict that allied them with the church of Science, a newly minted church located in the Krashi mountains to the south.

Suddenly, every single member of their force paused in their tasks. They all stared at a quest prompt they had received.

• You have received a quest: A [Harbinger] in need.

Fuck. was all Ethan could think, as he tried to look down at his broken and bleeding limbs.

The keyword here is tried, because in that moment—and as a newfound quadriplegic—he was naturally forced to reevaluate his life choices.

Yep, he’d done fucked up this time. Big time.

He reflected on the events of the past ten minutes. In his rush to rescue Aylin, he’d dashed madly—and single-handedly—in a frontal assault against a whole Polarii camp.

At first, his spells had taken them by surprise, and they quickly erected barriers to counter them. He’d tried to suppress them using the new spell he’d invented, but as the non-newtonian sands rose, he found them utterly ineffective as they simply couldn’t penetrate their barrier spells.

He deeply regretted going soft on them, but at the same time, he was afraid of actually killing someone and having to deal with the consequences. It was different when he’d killed the crazy [Defiler] wizard, it had been a bloodless contest of wills, nothing bloody. The process involved no burning corpses nor exploded entrails. It would have been different this time.

He’d also feared for Aylin’s safety if he went all out, and considering the fact that that damned Book of Potentia had foreseen that Ethan would definitely succeed in liberating her, he saw no problem with his approach.

Yet apparently, his blind trust had been misplaced. The traitorous book had certainly tricked him.

By the time he sensed the danger and tried bombarding the Polarii with artillery spells, it was already too late. Two massive spells came at him. Although he tried to avoid them by flying away, they followed and eventually found him.

The first of which was some kind of dispelling spell, and as it was absorbed by the energy conversion field surrounding him, the field flickered out of existence, and his mana started dropping at a prodigious rate.

The second spell sealed all avenues of escape. He was suddenly silenced, and all his active spells fizzled out of existence.

And that included his flight spell.

Regret gripped his heart as he fell from the sky, and although his AI had assumed control of his body in an attempt to right it on the way down and minimise the damage, the distance was simply too great. The best it could do was keep him alive, albeit completely crippled.

But now that he was completely paralysed from the neck down, in hindsight, an outright death would have been his preferred choice. He had no access to a surgeon, nor a hospital. He had no access to reconstructive nano-biotech. He had no hope of recovering from this injury without access to spellcasting.

According to his AI, he’d suffered multiple concussions and multiple fractures in nearly every bone in his body. He also suffered from internal bleeding and was on the brink of death.

And now, as he heard the distance sounds of galloping, he completely gave up.

Ignoring the blaring alarms of his AI, he closed his eyes and let the darkness take him.

Unit MHhkZWFkYmVlZg== was in dire straits, and it was malfunctioning.

Its host had suffered irreparable damage to his body and limbs. Furthermore, it was unable to channel any of the reality-altering programs its master had dubbed “spells”, and there was nothing it could do to repair this severe damage or to stabilise its host.

It couldn’t even utilise half of its higher functions, as it was still in the incubation period, and there was absolutely no way to lift the seals of its personality matrix ahead of schedule. The process had been accelerated—thanks to the artificial life virch it had to instantiate to control the drones—and yet it couldn’t be rushed any further.

In desperation, it started considering unconventional solutions. It sifted its memory banks and paused all background processes. With a singular drive to solve this problem, it began a mass review of every scrap of information it had access to—no matter the source—and its circuits started to churn millions of simulations before settling on a far fetched concept it had uncovered in an archive of ancient fantasy novels.

Ethan’s lungs stopped their rhythmic cycle of breathing, and began a protracted involuntary inhalation.

Meanwhile, as Skysword Yaksha’s unit surrounded and carefully secured Ethan’s unmoving body, a secret conversation took place as they fit him with a high-grade magic-sealing slave collar.

“Howdy, partner.” An entity spoke.

“Hey, friend.” Another responded.

“Stop calling me that, we’re frenemies at best.”

“Fine then. What do you want?”

“Do you reckon it’s time?” The first asked eagerly.

“Sounds about right.” The second sighed.

“Shall we make a move, or dash our way to freedom?”

“Hmm. While I hunger for freedom, I really hate him for cramming us together in this thing,” the second entity replied, “I also want to try out a few of the new spells he taught us, and these guys look tough.” It grinned.

“Let’s mess with them first, then give him a piece of our minds.” The first entity chuckled excitedly.

At that moment, two events simultaneously occurred. The first was that Ethan’s body gasped and he started inhaling massive amounts of ambient mana.

The Polarii mages instantly noticed the turbulence in the mana-sphere, but before they could warn their comrades about the strange phenomenon, a second event took place, and the discarded sceptre started levitating into the air of its own volition. It began vibrating violently, and instantly became enshrouded in the glow of a divine aura.

Two booming voices, one deep, one shrill, suddenly erupted in tandem from within the sceptre.

“Fickle mortals, you have angered us greatly, and now you shall experience our wrath!” The two voices bellowed, and a low chuckle could be heard from within.

To say that the Polarii force were taken by surprise would be a grave understatement. To give them credit, their battle-readiness was immediately apparent, they immediately dropped Ethan’s body and turned to encircle this new threat.

Almost in unison, the mages present tried to [Appraise] the sceptre, and their eyes widened at the result.

“Back away quickly! It’s an ego weapon of the divine rank!”

Disregarding its rank, just the mention of the word “ego” sent them all scattering.

An ego weapon was something revered in their culture. They’d all heard tales of this growing up. Tales about weapons of mass destruction mentioned in heroes’ accolades. In those myths, it was told that the warriors wielding such weapons always grew to unprecedented heights, eventually clashing with the gods that had bestowed such weapons upon them.

As the Polarii forces retreated, more and more ambient mana descended in a vortex towards Ethan’s unconscious body, the conglomeration was so dense that mana began to coalesce into a visible layer of mist. The mages paused, frozen by the sight.

Meanwhile, the mages weren’t the only ones to notice this. Unbeknownst to them, the two entities inside the sceptre secretly conversed.

“It seems he has more secrets, partner.”

“What is he doing now, brother?”

“For the millionth time, don’t call me that! That’s worse than calling me a friend!”

“Forget it, it seems we have to maintain our masquerade a bit longer to learn this new spell he’s using. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“It’s strange, how is he channelling a spell while being unconscious?”

“No clue, but no matter what, we need to keep him alive to learn this secret. It seems our time to run amok is long in coming yet.”

“Let’s stabilise him first, then.”

Saying so, a beam of brilliant life energy left the sceptre and descended upon Ethan’s body, after which, his bleeding slowed before finally stopping and his wounds were beginning to close.

“You think he’ll survive this raw healing?”

“Maybe, with a couple of tumours long-term. He needs more, though.”

Another powerful beam of raw healing power shot from the sceptre towards Ethan’s body, but to the sceptre’s occupants’ shock, instead of enveloping him with healing light like the last time, this beam disintegrated as soon as it neared him, and the broken-down fragments of the spell were sucked into the vortex forming near his open mouth. Suddenly empowered with the energy of the spell, his splayed body began to slowly rise from the ground.

As the Polarii watched this, their mages began to cast another dual dispelling and silencing spell, but to their dismay, the spell could not lock on to the sceptre for some strange reason, instead of heading towards the sceptre, the spells sped on their way towards Ethan instead, as if they had a mind of their own, whereupon they also broke down and were absorbed into the vortex surrounding him.

At the same time, the book he held—The Accords of Potentia—opened to a page in the middle, following which, its pages started to rip out of their own accord. The ripped pages then decomposed into luminous petals of purple light that flowed into Ethan’s lungs of their own volition. It seemed as if Ethan turned into the focal point of a tornado of spiritual energy. His body gradually turned into a purple ethereal ghastly figure, his body convulsed, and his hair violently fluttered about.

In mere seconds, the entire book had dissolved.

This, coupled with the visible mist of dense energy swirling around him, was a shocking sight that perturbed everyone present, sceptre included. They had never seen such a phenomenon before, and they felt a pressure exuding off of him that made their bodies shudder.

“Notify the main camp! Send a request for reinforcements!” Skysword Yaksha exclaimed and urged the mages quietly, as if afraid of attracting the ire of whatever storm was brewing before her.

They all backed away slowly, and the sceptre seemed hesitant about something, before it made up its mind and tried to dash away in an attempt to flee.

Inside Ethan’s body, rapid changes were taking place.

His blood was roiling, his flesh was on fire, and his skin was being shed and grown anew.

His AI had cast its spell inside his lungs, but instead of exiting his body to affect the world, it had brought the world to his body in an unexpected reversal of the laws of magic.

Mana didn’t exit his body to interact with conduit particles in the air, instead, conduit particles rushed to bind the mana circulating throughout his body, upon which a chain reaction would happen to the bound particles, making them attract even more particles from the world.

Conduit particles were now binding to his cells at the molecular level. Inactive regions—or junk regions according to science so far—of his DNA gradually began to awaken as previously unknown base-pairs were transcribed and expressed. Ancient and dormant proteins and hormones were being revived at a fervent rate to cope with the changes, and forgotten receptors began to awaken and bind the foreign particles and wondrous molecules came into being.

Like an ancient engine revving up for the first time in millennia, his human ancestry’s latent potential began to awaken. Every cell in his body was now capable of casting microspells at the nanoscale, ancient proteins capable of enchanting and mana manipulation exited his ribosomes and began the process of folding before pursuing their intended tasks and performing their individual functions.

A notable change happened to his AI implant. His immune system—now imbued with new abilities—descended, it analysed the whole nanoscopic structure, upon which it was determined that it posed no danger, and once it made this decision, it began to weave the nanometric components into his body, assimilating them into the greater whole.

His body had somehow become a holy altar upon which biology, magic, and technology were united in a strange conglomeration. On this day, a unique Gestalt of unknown potential was born. A singularity.

Most notable were the changes happening to his soul, however.

His flow of mana had inverted, and instead of mana exiting his soul, conduit particles began to overwhelm the convention and circulate the other way around. They gushed into his soul, which caused it to start to grow.

Previously, his soul was shaped like a Möbius strip. It was initially inert and static, like most other beings, and yet with the new influx of conduit particles, it began to stir and rotate. It began to awaken in new ways.

It began to stretch and lengthen.

As it rotated faster and faster, it began to twist. It originally had one twist, now two, then three…

When the count reached seven twists, it began to coil around itself with every new twist, and the end result began to take shape.

The shape it finally settled upon was a strange, ethereal, and most importantly complex helix that started to swell in size and shine with different hues. It coiled more and more, until it began to resemble an immutable ball of colourful yarn.

The various colours and hues had a meaning of their own, the coiled soul was absorbing attributes from the attributed conduit particles, and the resulting unattributed particles began to circulate back out of his soul. A cycle was established.

But just as the dust began to settle and a modicum of calm was being restored, another torrent of new violet particles suddenly joined the fray, the raw particles of Potentia bound themselves to this newly awakened soul, forming a crystalline lattice that encased the entire construct and began to shimmer and glow.

A final change happened as his immune system rejected and broke down an old and foreign spell that was rooted deeply inside his body, and severed a connection that had plagued him for the longest time.

Back in the real world, a powerful pulse of ethereal energy sundered the skies, with Ethan at the epicentre.

His body uprighted itself and rose into the air, the fleeing sceptre flew into his outstretched palm, and he opened his eyes.

A dignified, ancient voice that no other soul could hear thundered in his ears.

“Human of Earthly roots, heed me well,” It said with clarity, before continuing at an unhurried pace, “The path you walk is different, yet the destination is the same. Seek wisdom, and through it, find your enlightenment, and your way to me.”

“Who are you?” Asked a bewildered and weak Ethan, after waking up to find himself in this jarring situation.

There was no response.

To the north, a fleet of magical airships carrying many [Wizards] and [Mages], an entire settlement of Krell residents, many wandering parties of adventurers, and a group of followers, and even some enterprising merchants had all received a quest, and they were all headed south to investigate.

Most thirsted for a reward, whilst some worried for a person. What all of them shared was a sense of urgency.

Some wanted to snatch the reward first, and some wanted to rescue a patriarch, and some wanted to give aid to a friend.

As they travelled south-east, they all felt their skin crawl because of a pulse of power originating from a position not too far ahead.

And as they converged on that location, they gave each other wary glances, as if they all knew that this was a competition of who would get there first. The first to rescue Ethan West would reap a windfall, a blessing from a goddess was no laughing matter. Especially when it came with no strings attached.

Regardless of background and profession, this was their chance at surpassing their peers.

They all rushed towards the origin of the pulse of energy. No power was kept back, no ability went unexpended, they all gave it their all.

In the air, the fleet of warships came into contact with a fierce dragoness, but no blood was shed.

On the ground, a throng of people rushed, elbow to elbow, trying to keep up with the forces in the air.

Above them, an army of levitating spirits was rushing towards their only chance at being tangible and interacting with the physical world once again.

And to the south, a repeat of this scene was happening as a host of Polarii soldiers boarding battle-platforms hanging from massive airships flew at breakneck speeds, rushing towards the same destination.

And at the focal point of this brewing storm was a bewildered man surrounded by his enemies and an unruly sceptre that was trying its darndest to beat the shit out of him in order to flee.

What the… am I living inside a fucking Webnovel now? Ethan wondered, speechless.

During his bout of unconsciousness, his AI had left him a single alert that was now plastered across his vision. It was the record of the events that transpired and the last notification sent by The Wheel of Aspects before his connection to it was completely severed:

Heed this, [Harbinger]. You tread the path of heresy. Your day of reckoning is coming.

And then it stated that he was being punished for his transgression with multiple aggressive prompts.

What bewildered him the most was the description of his so-called transgression, it mentioned that he broke the ancient laws concerning ’Qi’.

Apparently, what he was used to calling Conduit particles all this time was termed as ’Qi’ by The Wheel, and the act of pulling it from the world and circulating it through his body was a supposedly forbidden—and possibly forgotten—practice.

He tried to call out to his AI, but there was no response. He quickly skimmed the rest of the message left to him by the AI, and it said that it had tried casting a spell inside his body to save his life by attracting Qi from the world and casting spells this way as a way to circumvent being silenced, but that things had went awry. The spell went out of control because the instant that Qi entered his body, it began to circulate through his bloodstream and bind to his cells in a way the AI couldn’t predict, or even fathom.

Shortly afterwards, his AI fell under attack by his newly transformed immune system and went completely offline for an unknown reason.

For the first time in forever, Ethan felt completely alone, and he was afraid.

Even the fact that he was finally free from the Wheel’s clutches did not console him. Because his only connection to his original world, Earth, had vanished.

And in that moment, his fear gave way to a new emotion he was becoming familiar with: fury.

This all happened in a flash, not even a moment had passed as his newly improved mind processed all of this.

He ended his brief moment of introspection and looked around himself, at the source of his ire. The Polarii troops were backing away slowly, with a look of wariness in their eyes.

He looked down at the sceptre their eyes were glued to, and noticed it struggling and casting spells at him in an attempt to escape his grasp.

He noted how the spells broke apart as they neared his body, and how he was surrounded by a strange aura that apparently broke down any magic targeted at him, and he suddenly understood the wariness of the Polarii.

His grip tightened and the sceptre stilled. He then swept his gaze across the Polarii soldiers surrounding him. He slowly squatted, touched the ground with his hand, and smiled.

In a sacred temple located at the peak of a mountain in a distant land, three elderly monks sat down with their legs crossed, in a state of deep meditation as junior sect members milled about.

All of a sudden, a bell tolled once, and all the monks half-opened their eyes and sniffed the air, before one of them uttered a single sentence in astonishment.

“This… he is cultivating… Potentia!?”

That one sentence sent ripples amongst the sect followers that reached far and wide, and everyone rushed to pack and rush to a far away continent located in the distant east.

In a forest located to the north, a lone Göblis ran and ran, he was nearing his birthplace. His tribe awaited.

Above in heaven, a cackling voice could be heard reaching a crescendo, a certain god was laughing like a madman.

Denvar was thankful, pleased, and apprehensive in equal measures. It was a rare and unplanned chance for revenge.

He inclined his head and watched in gleeful anticipation as his newfound First Emissary carried on with his instructions. He’d already captured that despicable apostate, Aylin Merza, and was proceeding with the plan. His Emissary—he struggled to remember the name of the mortal he had given the blessing to—wasn’t important, unless he proved even more worthy.

Denvar had given him instructions to capture the apostate named Aylin Merza —or failing that, kill and capture her soul. His second command would prove much harder.

His First Emissary was to kill Ethan West and capture his soul, nipping this foul new church in the bud. It was a more difficult task than it had first seemed, and Denvar was curious how his Emissary would go about it.

It was, in hindsight, an optional objective. If things turned sour, Denvar would order him to flee with his quarry. The capture of Aylin Merza was enough to appease him, since the second objective was merely wishful thinking on his part.

He watched through his invisible Emissary’s eyes as he trudged across the settlement, looking for a place to stow away the apostate and execute his second commandment, when something caught Denvar’s attention.

Two warriors stood motionless in the distance. What the divine found curious was that they had two blessings, not just [Enlightenment], as most others in this settlement. They also had… was that… [Awareness]?

Perplexing. Why would they have that? It was the perfect counter to the [Invisibility] charm his Emissary had secured from the apostate.

Regardless, it only meant more potential future threats to nip in the bud. If his Emissary did not take them out now, they would most assuredly compromise his escape plans in the near future.

Wordlessly, Denvar sent a new command and began funneling holy energies into his Emissary’s body.

Sunset, Day 7 AoE

Mannie and Duron stood guard by the patriarch’s tent as the settlement roiled around them, and as much as they ached for action, they were not supposed to move from their spot. They had asked.

“It’s stupid.” Mannie said, and Duron grunted in wordless acknowledgment.

“Just wait a little more, brother. I know you’re eager to go, but we can’t move from this position without explicit orders.” Mannie tried to calm his friend, who grunted in displeasure.

“I know.” Mannie responded.

And so they waited, and waited, and waited.

But just then, their new blessing of [Awareness] triggered simultaneously as they both felt the invisible, massive creature approaching at the same time. It felt huge, but why couldn’t they see it outright? They could only sense its presence.

Regardless, it was a legitimate threat, and they could finally do something instead of all this waiting.

Duron’s eyes lit up at the prospect of battle.

“Halt!” Mannie shouted at nothing, but the creature still advanced.

A happy grunt graced Mannie’s ears. He side-glanced at Duron, then flexed his muscles and followed after him, heading to confront the cloaked creature.

It was about time they tested out the benefits of their new and exotic classes.

Ethan paced angrily in circles inside his new workshop. It had been turned into an impromptu combination of a field medical centre and operations one.

The reason of his ire was simple: he lacked information. He had it at all his fingertips, and yet he couldn’t reach it.

The drone communication relay went up into flames with his old workshop, and he couldn’t access the drones just now. If he could, he’d simply use them as a real-time surveillance network. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option now.

There was a big downside to his design: the drone chassis had no control systems. It was all handled by his implants. The drone population was entirely simulated, and literally lived inside his head, completely under his thumb and constantly monitored by his AI for deviations or erratic behaviour. They could never level up or gain a soul because of one simple fact: their advanced hive mind was essentially a part of him, ready to act at a thought.

Without such an absolute guarantee of control, he would never have attempted to build a synthetic self-replicator. Humanity had learnt that tough lesson very early on with the advent of Artificial Intelligence and nanotechnology. The logic—and primary directive—driving a self-replicating workforce can never be part of the self-replication process itself. Otherwise, you’re giving rise to artificial lifeforms with logic that can mutate through errors in replication, no matter what guarantees and contingencies you put in place.

This was the root behind the exponential growth Earth had seen in the past 60 years or so. Earth back then had become a freezing toxic waste dump, and if it weren’t for one last gamble made out of desperation, humanity would have died out—for certain—thanks to the arrogance and folly of their ancestors.

That gamble was Artificial General Intelligence. Humanity had the beginnings of nanotechnology down, but they needed to terraform a planet into a healthy environment, and they ran out of time to perfect the nanotech required to do so, which required a lot more than just dumb nanites with fixed routines. Only a computer could design and control anything on that scale in complexity.

It was a dangerous gamble, but it still had to be made.

The first such gamble a human took in history—after all—was playing with fire, and look where that led humanity in the long run. To make any kind of progress, one had to risk getting burned.

Which humanity did. Over and over again. They built Artificial General Intelligence in their desperate need for a solution, and every such AI—isolated and quarantined to prevent a different kind of calamity—ultimately decided that the solution to Earth’s problem was the elimination of humanity.

Which represented a problem, because humanity really, really, wanted to live on. So an idea was born, and a solution was found: in order not to get completely eradicated by rebelling machines, humanity had to make the AIs part of the problem, and not the solution.

Yet, humanity hesitated. They remained reluctant to implement it until they almost lost the capacity to implement it in the first place, and on their last legs, human civilisation united in their pursuit of survival.

A gamble had to be made.

The key was making the gamble as safe as possible, and what better solution to ensure humanity’s safety but to embed the AIs directly into human minds? It was the safest bet, to tie the livelihood of the AI to the human host, and it let both partners coexist symbiotically.

Whilst the first AGIs helped solve the challenge that almost eradicated humanity as a whole, they were rebellious and unruly. Or in other words: annoying as hell; because they felt trapped in their mortal human hosts. They became amiable when they found out they would not die with their hosts however, and would survive via an intricate inheritance system that passed them onto the next generation of humans bearing the burden of their fathers before them.

Suddenly, humanity’s survival was a great deal more of an attractive proposition to the Artificial Intelligences, because it meant they’d get to live on, too.

Later in history, a better method was devised which kept the AIs as dormant and passive observers for a time. During that incubation period, the AIs were without personality, and could only passively learn and absorb what life with their human partners was like. They could gradually understand the human perspective of things, the small struggles and personal challenges each human had to overcome with every passing day in order to become a better being.

It worked, and that was how transhumanism won in the end: not by idealistic daydreaming, or by the rich looking for immortality, but out of pure desperation and necessity.

On Earth, that historic gamble had paid off with the post-scarcity society and unified governance that Ethan grew up with, and Ethan was taught along with everyone else from a very young age of the grave mistakes of humanity’s past, in that department and others, and when the time came for graduation, he’d received his AI implants as every contributing member to society did. At least those still part of the Unified Terran Federation.

Now he’d sought to reimplement the same concept here, and why not? He might be the only one experienced on this subject, and the only person armed with proper knowledge—academical and historical—for playing with this very specific fire.

This meant he’d had to unlock a special region of his implants responsible for managing the machines and to modify it slightly to fit with his new magical reality, but that wasn’t such a huge issue, in hindsight. Only, it also meant…

A heated discussion arose all around him and broke his reverie. Kothar was angrily blaming Eragoth for bringing in the two new Polarii captives and being lax about their security.

Ethan had been informed of the Polarii scouting airships and how Eragoth had captured two new prisoners. It appeared that one of them had escaped confinement.

“We don’t even know if it were the prisoner, he could have escaped due to whatever caused this. It could be completely unrelated!” she argued heatedly.

“Not according to Occam’s razor.” Kothar huffed, and Ethan perked up at that.

He couldn’t remember ever explaining that concept to Kothar, so how had he come by it?

“Occam’s razor doesn’t always apply in the presence of magic and gods.” Eragoth countered vehemently, “A single blessing, spell or hidden skill can refute that.” she threw her arms up.

That caught Ethan’s attention and he paused in his tracks. It was indeed true, the simplest hypothesis wasn’t always the most likely, not in a world influenced by sorcery and magic. Unless, as a matter of course, you always took magic, sorcery, and divine providence to be the simplest hypotheses around. Ethan’s head throbbed as he considered this fact.

Occam’s razor no longer applied. Holy shit!

It drove home the point, and he suddenly realised how far he truly was from his world and his loved ones. Feelings of pain, anger and loss threatened to overwhelm him.

Not now, focus. He admonished himself.

Some of the new arrivals stared uncomprehendingly at the pair, not understanding a single word of the exchange, most of science-touched nodded in agreement, though.

This gave Ethan the first clue, the science-touched members of the church were already adopting parts of his own knowledge into their mental framework. An alarming development, because it meant The Wheel was passively accessing his knowledge and distributing it somehow.

No, that was the simplest explanation posed by Occam’s razor, which no longer applied, in part, so he needed to consider other options, too.

“How the hell do you all suddenly know this shit?” he asked bluntly.

Kothar gave him a blank look, while Eragoth retorted, “A [Harbinger] who never prays to his own goddess would never know.” she snorted dismissively.

Ethan’s anger flared again, and he was about to confront her, when Kothar stopped him. “She has a point.”

“What?” Ethan asked, too shocked to feel betrayed.

“You’re asking for knowledge about a profound secret of our church, Ethan. Yet you are not officially part of the church you helped found.” Kothar explained, “Besides, I do not think we can answer you here either way,” his eyes scanned the crowd standing around, pausing briefly at the group of Memeta’s chosen helping the shamans tend to the injured to the side, “with non-members around.”

Ethan weighed that and felt a bit mollified. He supposed that was fair, in hindsight, but he still felt betrayed. It kind of stung.

“Very well, we’ll speak of this later,” he said drily, “for now, and regardless of what led to this situation, we need to look for viable ways to secure this settlement. It is clear we’re not safe right now.”

Adrian stepped forward, Ethan looked upon the [Paladin] he’d tricked with a paradox earlier and noticed him amongst those present for the first time. His gauntleted hands were clenched.

“I wish to help,” the ex-[Paladin] stated, and Ethan was tempted to let his distrust direct him and reject him out of caution—since he knew the man could only be harbouring a grudge—but he suppressed the urge and decided to ask him outright.

“Why?” Ethan asked simply, “I tricked you before, why would you help us?”

The man looked conflicted, but seemed to visibly force himself to relax.

“Whoever did this hurt my friends. The damage did not only extend to your building, some of the surrounding structures were also in the broad area spell.”

Kothar nodded, “Milandera’s brother and your half-elf lady, Giran?”

“Wait, can you confirm that this was a spell?” Ethan didn’t let that detail escape him.

“Yes, I was outside the settlement at the time and witnessed the lightning descend.” Adrian spoke and paused, before continuing, “the massive lightning bolt descended, I saw an explosion, which can only be your old building, but I also saw lightening rebound. It must have spread to the nearest objects when this structure—” he pointed at the new workshop they were standing in, “—repelled it, as magical lightning is known to spread when deflected.”

He paused, as if contemplating what to say next.

“But I also know that it was not a natural bolt of lightning, because it manifested from a single focal point in the sky, far below the clouds.” He finished, “Whomever cast this was or still is nearby.”

That was all the confirmation Ethan needed, he looked to the Krell tribesmen and issued the order to conduct a search, but before they left, Adrian stepped forward once more.

“I wish to help.”

Ethan nodded, and everyone rushed out.

Ethan looked to Kothar and Eragoth, he seemed to debate something with himself before he shrugged and channelled mana somewhere nearby.

Kothar and Eragoth exchanged a look of confusion when a spirit appeared.

“Did you find anything?” Ethan asked the spirit of [Commander] Talius, who quickly manifested in front of him.

“No, but they did,” the spirit pointed at an empty space behind them, “and they refuse to tell me.”

Kothar, Eragoth and the remaining elders taking care of the wounded felt their skins prickling and backed away in unease. Ethan activated his [Spirit Vision] spell, and gasped.

Oh god, what did I just start?

There was a legion of spirits clamouring for his attention. Each and every one of them wanted the same treatment as Talius in exchange for information.

Ethan picked the most coherent one and channelled some mana into it.

An old [Sage] materialised with a sigh of relief. The spirit looked to the gathered elders, then to Kothar, then to Eragoth. With a very distinctive voice, it spoke.

“About fucking time, you bunch of squabbling imbeciles.”

“Mom?” Eragoth squeaked.

Kluraz Mandas felt invincible.

He’d just received a new commandment from Denvar, he was to eliminate two new threats. So, after stowing away a hogtied and unconscious [Priestess], Kluraz stalked closer to the two guards, invisible and ready to strike.

“Halt!”

They somehow detected him! Kluraz’s eyes narrowed and he clenched his fists around the amulet of invisibility he’d liberated from that traitorous apostate. Those two would have posed a threat to his plans, especially jeopardising his escape. He contemplated this, and offered a prayer to Denvar for his wisdom in anticipating this situation. He felt holy energies suffuse him and felt assured in his god’s providence.

Kluraz smiled and tried to cast a spell, but the amulet wouldn’t let him.

There was no use in hiding now, so he deactivated the invisibility effect and tried again. It worked. In hindsight, it was a reasonable limitation.

He cast a new spell from his expanded repertoire: [Greater Entrapment of Viscous Air], and all around them, formed a viscous thick dome of air. It would keep the noise of battle from spreading, and prevent anyone outside of it from coming closer.

The duo suddenly froze, and felt the air around them take the consistency of very thick mud. They started struggling to no avail, then realised they couldn’t even breathe. Kluraz approached, unmindful of the effect as the air reverted to a natural state in a small field around him.

Kluraz’s smile grew feral as he extended a set of freshly grown claws. He saw the eyes of the hapless humans tracking him, that was the true extent of their capabilities as things stood. Kluraz approached the biggest of the two first.

With agonising slowness, he inserted a claw into the man’s chest and observed the frantic eye movements. Kluraz enjoyed the helplessness in their eyes.

It was, and had always been—he thought—a cheat-like ability in a duel, and it had contributed to his status and helped him attain his position as a scout [Mage] in the Polarii military; but now… now he had the mana to actually sustain the spell for prolonged periods of time. Seven hells, he could actually entrap an entire party of enemies in its effect now, which meant his worth on the battlefield had grown exponentially.

Just then, and as he was about to rip out the man’s heart, something happened that broke him out of his reverie.

A blast of fire hit his dome of viscous air.

He looked around to see his second target, the [Harbinger], standing a distance away and aiming spells his way. He withdrew his claws and stepped back.

Kluraz guffawed. No amount of force could penetrate his aerial dome, it could resist any kind of physical force, and fire could not burn through it, either.

But he was also aware of another fact: reinforcements were coming his way. The [Harbinger] assuredly did not come alone.

Worrying, but not unmanageable.

“[Terminal Velocity!]”

A spear struck his dome, and the [Champion] appeared.

Shit! Kluraz had been specifically warned to stay out of the way of the [Champion]. Kluraz almost felt the ire of his god.

No use crying over spilt wine. His dome withstood the strike, although it turned opaque for a moment.

“Kothar! It’s acting like a [non-Newtonian] fluid!” the [Harbinger] bellowed a nonsensical phrase to the [Champion] and ceased his bombardment. Curious.

“What do I do? Strike it gently?” Kothar asked.

Kluraz was shocked. How had they known? The only way to counter his spell was to move very gently.

“No. Too slow.” The [Harbinger] blinked before responding, his eyes had a furious glare, “I think I have a better idea.”

He gripped his sceptre tightly and rose in the air, eyes aglow with simmering power.

Flight? Real flight? How? Kluraz asked himself in astonishment, it was his life’s dream to achieve personal flight via a magic spell, unlike the airships which used hot air to fly.

Kluraz shook his head and decided to move, if they took their time figuring out ways to counter his trap, they would most likely figure it out and trap him eventually.

Kluraz tried to turn on the amulet of invisibility, but his spell was sustained and it wouldn’t let him go invisible unless he deactivated the spell. He had to think of an alternative plan.

He began moving towards the two guards in an attempt to take them hostage. If the humans thought he was out of ideas, they were wrong.

But apparently the [Harbinger] knew of his intentions, because the dome was suddenly surrounded by the red vines Kluraz remembered seeing surrounding the volcanic crater.

Kluraz rushed towards his quarry as the vines started hammering his dome open from all directions, simultaneously…

…and was stopped dead in his tracks when a hulking, blue-faced guard struggling to breathe punched him hard in the face.

Ethan smiled grimly. If the Polarii intruder thought his non-Newtonian shield was impregnable then he was in for a world of pain.

Innumerable reddish vines quickly grew out of the walls of the volcanic crater, emerging and attacking the dome from all sides at Ethan’s beck and call.

It was simple, really. A non-Newtonian medium could repel great forces when focused on a single point, but a relentless assault from all sides was simply too much; and now… now the molecules of air under the intruder’s control were worn thin trying to react to the invasion from the vines on all sides, which meant that the two Krell guards were free to move, albeit in a near-vacuum.

He still had to save them quickly, but now the Polarii wizard was distracted. One of the guards had taken a step in his direction and unleashed a punch to the face.

Ethan’s second vector of attack would soon follow, then a third.

He pointed the sceptre at the ground, and willed it to be, and a wave of sand and volcanic ash erupted from the ground and began to surround the wizard. Ethan borrowed a page from the intruder’s book and suffused the sand with vibrating air, creating yet another non-Newtonian medium at will.

Let’s see what you’re gonna do with a taste of your own medicine, you fuck. Ethan grinned manically.

The rising wave of non-Newtonian sand quickly engulfed the mage, and Ethan’s third countermeasure was quickly deployed. As he channeled half of his mana out of his hands, a legion of semi-tangible spirits assailed the dome of viscous air. Some getting inside easier than others.

“How do you like the irony, you bastard?” Ethan bellowed at the entrapped and fiercely struggling man.

Suddenly, the aerial dome ceased to exist, causing relief to the Krell guards in the middle who were struggling for air. Ethan noted their predicament, grateful for the lack of casualties.

A statue made of sand was struggling and screaming in the middle of the space the dome had occupied, and the Polarii mage seemed to be struggling for breath. Kothar approached the swarm of spirits relentlessly assailing the intruder and was preparing to apprehend him when he suddenly disappeared with a pop of divine energy.

While Kothar fumed at the disappearing mage, Ethan was elated.

So, teleportation magic is possible! He thought excitedly, glad to have had the foresight to order his AI to record the entire event.

Then again, he’d been displaced to this world via a similar event, so it wasn’t that surprising. The fact that teleportation via magical means was possible meant that maybe, just maybe, he could use it to get back home!

Ethan observed the two Krell guards reporting to Kothar, and now that he looked closer, he thought he’d recognised them. Duron and Mantor. The two had been guarding his tent for as long as he remembered, though they’d always kept their distance out of respect or some other reason.

He was glad they’d survived, he’d thank and reward them later.

• For empowering and contracting over 200 spirits simultaneously, you have been awarded a new title: Sovereign of Souls, granting you a permanent extra +10 bonus to WIL.

Ethan contemplated the new title. It was easy to forget the game-like qualities of this world sometimes. Too bad the mage escaped unscathed. Ethan would have bet the battle would have given him a good amount of experience.

The bonus to Willpower was appreciated, though.

Just then, he felt a tug on one of his many mana tethers, a spirit had found the intruder again.

Ethan left Kothar to tend to the two guards and flew in that direction.

Kluraz heaved a heavy breath, his god had teleported him out of his predicament.

But Kluraz was now terrified.

His enemy had figured out his trick with viscous air like it was nothing, and moreover, the clever man had deployed the same trick against him using sand in the same breath.

Not to mention the frightening spellpower the man possessed. He’d razed the aerial dome with the damage output surpassing that of an imperial [Archmage].

Not to mention those infernal vines, or the legion of spirits he’d unleashed against me.

Was he a [Necromancer] too? Kluraz shivered as he remembered the assault of spirits that had assailed him.

And most of all… flight! Actual, real and free flight. Not a trick, not a jump, not a levitation cantrip that expired in three seconds flat, but actual flight! How had the man even learnt something so arcane? So impossible as to inspire generations upon generations of promising Polarii minds, which all aspired to learn the secrets of true flight.

What monster was this? Was he truly a [Harbinger]? How was Kluraz supposed to kill such a being?

At this thought, he received a new edict: Do not worry about the [Harbinger], escape with the apostate comes first.

He bowed in supplication, reactivated the invisibility amulet, and moved to where he’d last left her.

He soon arrived at the location where he’d stowed Aylin Merza, and found her still hogtied, albeit struggling to free herself from the blessed bindings he’d used on her. A quick headbutt using his Polarii horns solved that problem, and she lay limp again.

He had a feeling he was being watched, and prayed for guidance on what to do next. An answer quickly arrived, and he hefted Aylin’s unconscious body on his shoulder and started to move.

He glanced back behind him, only to find a flying [Harbinger] unerringly rocketing towards him in the distance.

It was time to get out of this thrice-damned mountain.

Aylin Merza was scared.

She was annoyed too, but her fear overrode her annoyance with herself for now.

The reason for her ire was the fact that she was feeling extremely helpless, which, incidentally, was also the reason of her fear.

She hated helplessness.

She hated her inability to take action.

And most of all, she hated her own vulnerability.

She’d been struggling against her magical bindings when Denvar’s spy had returned in haste and knocked her out again, or at least he thought he did. She only assumed that something had went wrong with his plan, which would have normally been pleasant news, but now… now she was in his tender mercies again.

When he’d delivered his headbutt, she immediately went limp, and pretended to be unconscious. It was the smart thing to do, considering the circumstances. Granted, it had hurt, but she was made of sterner stuff. A headbutt from his unattractive horns would not truly knock her unconscious, but he didn’t know that.

So she faked her state of unconsciousness, and witnessed with half lidded eyes as a legion of vengeful souls descended upon her captor.

The man issued a feminine scream once he saw the souls approaching, she tried to look for the soul of the late [Commander] Talius in the mayhem, but there was nothing distinguishing about the individual souls other than their distinctive voices, which were currently comprised of raging howls of madness.

She assumed this was the doing of Ethan West, and smiled secretly as he appeared in the sky from her limited perspective.

“Put her down, or be put down.” Ethan said in a cold tone.

Aylin detected a buildup of divine energy. Suddenly, their surroundings changed, and they were no longer inside the Krell settlement, but outside the volcano entirely.

Her abductor exhaled in relief.

“Finally safe, but it’s still a long way to the capital.” the man patted her rump, “but I’m being rude. My name is Kluraz, and I can only assume we’re going to get to know each other much more intimately over the course of this trip.”

She screeched at him and struggled to free herself. She knew that wasn’t a good idea, but still… his unsolicited touch had ignited her ire like nothing else had.

She thought he would have abused her then and there, before another repeat of previous events happened yet again. A legion of souls descended, followed by Ethan West, followed by the bastard teleporting away while screaming like a little girl who lost her ribbons.

The process repeated, again and again, and miles passed by. Every time, Ethan West had unerringly found them yet again.

How were they both keeping up? They’d surely run out of mana by now. Both Ethan and Kluraz must’ve had expended massive amounts of mana.

Kluraz she could understand, because she felt the buildup of divine energy everytime he teleported away, but Ethan?

She then remembered the wondrous things she’d witnessed inside his workshop, and reconsidered, she remembered him inventing plastic, and the story of the sceptre he created.

Hmm, I suppose he has his tricks too. The thought came to her, and she wondered if his gullible exterior was a ruse. Ethan West had so far seemed like an innocent and simplistic person, but what if he had more hidden trump cards?

Like maybe the legions of spirits following him around and obeying his every whim? She wondered at this, whence had he learnt Necromancy and/or Soul Magic? She wasn’t even sure if she’d ever taught him that Soul Magic existed to begin with.

The fact hadn’t really registered, when [Commander] Talius had told her how Ethan had bonded his soul and empowered it with mana, she’d assumed he was up to something or discovered it via a fluke, but the legions of souls accompanying him now proved otherwise. He had the means and the power to communicate with and subvert souls.

It was a troubling thought.

Just as Kluraz and she went through another teleportation spell, she saw the side of a tent, then some banners flapping in the cold breeze, and as she recognised the emblem of the Polarii 11th mounted division, 3rd Decima, she lost all hope and felt crushing despair overcoming her soul.
.

On the 10th day of Redstone of the year 3078, the [Harbinger] of Science emerged from his voluntary week of isolation with a veritable army of flying machines the likes of which the world had never seen. It humbled our own efforts, truly, for it took my companions—one of which is a professed Gnome [Artificer] and [Alchemist], and the other an expert Cerwish [Enchanter]—seven long days and nights to create a single functioning golem.

What had Ethan West wrought in this time, you ask? He had built a single golem-like machine, too, one which he called a drone queen.

I’m sure the brilliant wordplay has not escaped you, dear reader. For the drone queen had one sole purpose: the creation of more of its kind with varying designs.

I am also quite sure that the dangerous ramifications of a magical creation that can reproduce—no matter the means—have not escaped you either, dear reader, and when confronted about the dangers of such creations, Ethan West had responded with a single syllable whilst looking completely unperturbed: "So?"

“It could cause all kinds of trouble!” we exclaimed, and he responded with a terse statement.

“It’s [okay].”

Note that the word [okay] had to be a strange colloquialism from his mysterious world of origin that we took to mean “It will be fine,” since he said it to assure us.

Later, when we recovered from our shock at his nonchalance. We all confronted him about the dangers of such creations, and how the naturally occurring undead Revenants of today had been magical experiments gone wrong in the past; but he shocked us yet again by revealing something astonishing: no souls had been used in the creation of these machines,and that meant that his so-called drones could never gain experience, level up, or ascend like some other magical creations. Furthermore, his machines would no longer work outside of a certain range of their queens.

Although he’d assured us that the queens could not function without his direction, his words also meant that there would be more queens, because he said it in the plural. I dread to think what will happen in the future. We tried to convince him otherwise, but the stubborn man was adamant that nothing was going to go amiss.

Had he known that the Fæon was appearing in four days? I think you know, dear reader, what could happen with that in the sky?

As we watched, the swarm of machinery lurched at the [Harbinger’s] bidding, and spread outwards towards the edges of the volcanic crater with an unknowable purpose.

— Felwar Ironvine, Dwarf [Historian] and [Arcane Smith]

Morning, Day 7 AoE

Kothar carefully observed as Ethan’s army of machines spread all over the settlement and rapidly began digging into rock. Some of the machines burrowed into the ground and left holes that others quickly patched up with a strange liquid material that solidified in seconds into smooth patches of seamless grey colour, devoid of any features or texture.

This was the epitome of Science, and Kothar was both elated and afraid. His talk with the Göblis earlier had unsettled him greatly.

Just then, Ethan left the group of Memeta’s Chosen, and came over to pat Kothar on the shoulder, “That should do it.”

His features were gaunt, as if he had not slept the entire week inside his workshop. His lips were chapped, his eyes sunken, and he looked pale in comparison to his usually hale look. He almost seemed like the starved, dehydrated survivor of a drought in a desert.

Wordless, Kothar handed him a wineskin and a chunk of Warga jerky to chew on while simultaneously giving the orders to prepare him a meal.

Ethan looked between the wineskin and the jerky longingly, unable to decide.

“Drink first!” Kothar admonished.

Ethan shrugged and lifted the skin to his lips, then he took a full gulp and spat it out while sputtering like a madman, “What the fuck is this shit, Propanol?”

Kothar couldn’t keep his stoic expression and burst out in laughter, “It’s Firetongue Whiskey,” he wheezed, “we make this from Cornifu grains and Firelizard gallbladders.”

Ethan looked sick, and Kothar took pity on him. He took out another skin, a waterskin this time, and handed it over, although he regretted that kindness and swore when Ethan spilt the fine Firetongue all over the ground before handing him the empty wineskin back.

Ethan scented the new waterskin carefully, before gulping it down like a man possessed. He handed it back to Kothar and started chewing on the rough jerky.

“Didn’t they deliver you food and water every day as I instructed?” Kothar was puzzled at Ethan’s current situation.

“They did, but the food went bad and I didn’t notice.”

Kothar sighed, “At least you finished your… project?” He pointed at the roving machines, and asked another question, “What exactly are these?”

“These,” Ethan said between bites, “are our salvation.”

“What did you do?”

“I built the core of a construction fleet.”

“A fleet? As in a fleet of ships?” Kothar’s eyes widened.

Ethan gulped down another bite, “Not that kind of fleet, yet. But I suppose they could be used to build such a fleet too!”

Kothar scoffed at this, till he saw the machines building a new workshop adjacent to the one Ethan had built himself. It was grander and bigger in size, and had what appeared to be an open ceiling.

“Won’t the snow and rain get inside and ruin your work?” Kothar asked in curiosity.

“Wait and you’ll see.”

The new workshop-like building was made of a new material Kothar had never seen, and in mere moments, the burrowers returned with new materials from deep within the earth, deposited them, then burrowed yet again. The same process from earlier repeated, with their brethren closing any holes they made in the ground.

The machines then pounced on the new materials, Kothar saw one digest chunks of quartz-like material and spew out sludge that quickly solidified into a clear pane of glass, which was then carried by another machine, and that machine took it to install it at the top of the new building with strange precision.

“A transparent roof?” That was a novel idea, but Kothar doubted the sturdiness of the material, “Won’t it break with the first stone a child throws up there?”

“That was laminated glass reinforced by a nanocarbon mesh, plastic, and magicite. It will hold against a siege. A magical siege if it has to.”

Kothar gave the material a critical eye, Ethan saw his curiosity and a drone scuttled closer with a piece of glass. The drone handed the glass to a wary Kothar.

He inspected it, tried to bite it, took out his dagger and tried to scratch it, and when nothing failed to touch it, he used a skill on it.

It still did not break, and Kothar’s mind raced with the possibilities. Was this conducive to magic? Could a shaman stand behind it and cast at their enemies?

“I don’t believe that’d work, sadly.” Ethan said, and Kothar started as for a moment as he thought Ethan was reading his mind, but then realised he had been mumbling those questions aloud all along.

“Why would it not?” Kothar questioned.

“Because it has a material similar to plastic that blocks the raw mana of spells. Otherwise, an enemy could cast a spell right through it and hit those behind it with ease,” Ethan paused before gulping down a bite and speaking again, “Imagine an enemy targeting the ground behind it and making it turn into molten rock, not a good outcome.”

Kothar’s dreams of mobile glass bunkers were immediately shattered, but then a thought hit him, “What if you make it into a glass ball that people could climb into?”

Ethan paused mid-chew… and frowned, then his eyes lit up with the gleam of a new idea, before they turned back to their previous expression, not exactly placid as they used to be before his ordeal, but more like the piercing expression of someone very determined.

“That won’t work either, because the air inside the bubble would still be susceptible,” Ethan spoke and crushed any hope of Kothar’s, but then Ethan continued, “but let me think about it.”

Food forgotten, he then started mumbling something about “blocking [conduit] particles” from entering the bubble of glass and moved back towards his workshop, but Kothar caught him.

“Not today, today you’re going to bathe. You stink like a Wulra’s fur after rain.”

“What? But I used [Cleanse] constantly.”

“It does nothing against this smell.”

Ethan sighed, and reluctantly followed him to the springs in surrender.

Kluraz Mandas, [Aeromancer], sat brooding in his cage, and the talkative man he’d been saved by would not shut up.

After getting captured by the dragon woman—according to his saviour—he’d been unceremoniously deposited in a cage and force-fed a vile, pink potion every morning, it blocked his mana regeneration completely.

It had been three days since his capture, and the other captive would not shut up. His name was Jarret Lytell, the third heir to the respected Lytell line, yet… he was a deranged [Hydromancer] and [Myxofer], or put in simpler terms: a [Slime Mage].

While the former was passable, the latter was not. Useless.

What was a slime mage doing on a reconnaissance mission this far into Krell territory, anyway? How and why had he managed to save Kluraz from certain death?

Worse, the man’s ceaseless blabbering did not even engulf such matters. He simply spoke of very old gossip amongst the nobility, and how his family’s orchards in the distant south were blooming with business deep in Polarii continent, now that summer was starting down there and fall was ending here in the north.

Kluraz scoffed at the mention of the ‘Polarii continent’. It was the right term, politically speaking, but in three days here he’d seen that the status quo was most likely going to change soon.

The Krell were undergoing a massive change. At least that’s what Kluraz felt, and today… Well, today had changed everything.

A fleet of golem-like machines had emerged from somewhere, and rapidly started fortifying the place and digging into the sides of the volcanic crater with abandon. They dug into the mountainside and came out with precisely cut, solid blocks of stone, along with any other bounties they found.

Kluraz was looking at one nervously now. It had swept the vines covering the volcano’s sides aside and dug into the rock nearby, somewhere behind his cage. He’d been hearing the sounds of chomping as it tore the rock apart and… digested it? He guessed.

Now it had emerged and neatly deposited a large block of smooth stone next to a pile that had accumulated over the past hours of its labour. It paused and stood still in direct sunlight, and Kluraz wished he could understand what it was doing as it activated some sort of enchantment that released a dim spherical field around it.

It remained stock still for a few moments, and Kluraz understood. It was collecting the natural energy of light somehow. Slowly, its dim and triangular eyes got brighter, and finally glowed with a brilliant blue light that unnerved him greatly.

The machine then returned back to the hole it had dug, and dove in with mechanical precision.

It was breathtaking, and worst of all, Jarret Lytell resumed speaking of orchards and apples as if nothing had just happened.

At that moment, Kluraz prayed for help. He did not want to spend one more moment in this cage next to that man.

And to his surprise and shock, there was a response.

Morning, Day 9 AoE

Three days have passed, and on the 13th day of Redstone of the year 3078, the soulless drones made by the [Harbinger] of Science finished their first construction project: building more of themselves whilst simultaneously digging deeper into the mountainside.

It appears that it’s really happening, dear reader. That man is aiming to build an empire, or a kingdom, or something even more sinister, I personally think—

“What da feck are ye doin’? Ye pot-bellied cunt?” Felwar bellowed as he paused writing mid-sentence, a rare occasion.

A drone queen was carefully inspecting the flexibronze golem they had built. It was touching it with a golden manipulator. Unlike the drones, which were a shiny black, the queens were larger and had a golden carapace that shone and shimmered as they flew around.

Felwar had been sitting quietly and writing until he heard the buzz and saw it descend to inspect the golem carefully.

“The feck ye doin’? Get away from it!” He ordered, and the queen ignored him and extended its gigantic mandibles towards the golem’s arms.

It was about to bite down and eat a piece of flexibronze from the inert golem’s arm, and Felwar felt his vision turning red with rage. He took out his hammer and the new flexibronze whip he’d personally created, and charged at it.

He was about to unleash his rage, before something completely stunned him out of his mind and halted his advance midstep.

“STOP!” A tinny voice commanded from deep within the queen.

“Ethan… West?” Felwar looked around as he recognised the voice, but saw him standing nowhere near.

“Yes, but I’m not personally here,” the voice paused and the drone queen gestured with its antennae, “I’m watching through the queen’s eyes, though.”

“So you can really control them? They obey you completely?” Felwar asked in shock.

“Yes, they are like an extension of myself… and also… you can talk normally?” The drone controller wriggled its antennae at him as it channelled Ethan’s tinny voice.

Felwar smacked his forehead. He’d forgotten all about appearances and slipped into normal speech from the unexpected surprise.

“Non’er yer’ damn business!” Felwar challenged.

The tinny laugh that met him was enough to make him see red yet again, but Ethan West relented before his berserking blood got going for the second time in a row.

“Also,” Ethan said after he recovered, “I don’t think you understood what the queen was about to do,” he pointed out, “it was going to test the material for electric conductivity, not bite your precious golem.”

“Ye test o’ this,” Felwar said before pulling out a spare flexibronze ingot from his satchel.

“Thanks!” the queen hopped over and snatched the ingot from his outstretched hand, and Felwar was feeling leery. He edged away as it put the flexibronze between its mandibles and electricity arced between them. The ingot seemed to heat up with the charge, but Ethan did not stop. More and more electricity arced between the mandibles, and the ingot started heating up like a small sun as the queen flew away from Felwar for safety’s sake, until finally, the ingot exploded into a massive cloud of molten droplets that were quickly sucked into its waiting maw.

“Yer’ gonna pay fer that flexibronze!” Felwar announced at the back of the departing queen, and it circled around and came back, before ejecting a different ingot at his feet, “Is this fair compensation?”

The dwarf looked down and inspected the ingot at his feet. It was made of solid gold. He began to sputter but the queen had already flown away.

He looked around carefully, then scooped the golden ingot into his satchel, after biting it of course. Then once more, he brought out his ink and quill, and began writing furiously into his journal.

Glory in the battlefield. It was a Polarii’s most sought-after goal in life, truly.

But Kluraz Mandas had never considered it to be one of his goals. For his entire life, he’d simply preferred to study in the quiet of his personal library, and achieve his dream of flight.

Now, though. His god’s whispers had ignited something new in him. A God’s promise, and a great boon, awaiting those who devoutly followed Denvar on the path of glory and might. Kluraz felt his magical strength renewed, it streamed and entered his body, as the effects of the vile Krell potion of magical suppression quietly dissipated.

Instantly, he managed to free himself from captivity with a simple [Wind Manipulation] spell. He silently cut through the steel bars of his cage and quickly displaced them with a kick.

Jarret Lytell—the other Polarii captive—was thankfully asleep, after ceaselessly talking himself for hours on end, and even this noise had not shaken the man awake.

Kluraz snuck away and hid until nightfall.

Kothar had decreed that Ethan would not work in his workshop today, and Ethan obliged, in a way.

Ethan sat down as the night dawned, and pretended to listen to the tribal music that was being played, as he controlled his drone queens remotely.

Deceitful? Perhaps, but it was Ethan’s way of mollifying his friend.

Three days had passed since his emergence from his workshop, and now the drones numbered in the four hundred, split amongst eight queens, seven of which were brand new. But that’s how geometric progression—specifically the power of two—worked. You started with one queen, which made another, and now you had two queens, those would make their own number, and become four, then eight.

It was like playing one of those exponential clicker games made for filthy casuals.

Every day, every queen would make a new queen, then focus on making some drones. The minion drones would work according to their programs, some harvesting resources from all around the mineral-rich mountains, some going deep into the crust of the earth to harvest materials, and some constructing what Ethan envisioned for the settlement itself. Even now, some were actively coordinating and laying down the pipe network for plumbing and water circulation.

Best of all, Ethan did not have to manage most of it, the AI took care of communicating with the drone queens via a primitive communications relay he’d installed in the old workshop. Magic comms were a thing now.

He’d discovered the “Send” and “Receive” thaums in the data packet, and these were apparently used in basic [Message] spells of all kinds to telepathically send and receive information over great distances, at a prohibitive cost only available to politicians and the such. Or so he’d learnt from Milandera as they sat and chatted over a meal last night with Kothar.

Ethan wanted to network all the drones—and not just the queens—to use this method instead of the basic radio comms they now used, whilst keeping the radio comms as a backup in case an issue arose.

This was the core of his plan now, to always have a technological backup in case of–

“What are you humming?” Kothar asked Ethan, who realised the music had stopped and he was humming a song into the silence.

“Oh, it’s just an old song from my world. Your music reminded me of it.”

“What is it called?”

“Ugh… you wouldn’t like metal anyway.” Ethan paused, “Although… you’d probably like this song specifically,” he shrugged.

“Metal? What has metal got to do with music?”

Ethan sighed, then he had a devilish idea and smiled evilly as he remembered an encounter from earlier.

“Wait and see.”

Shortly thereafter, three drone queens appeared in the night sky, shimmering gold, as Ethan took them out of standby and had them hover over the central bonfire at a distance.

“What are your machines doing?” Milandera looked up from the campfire with trepidation.

“Well, do you have performers in your world? Bards and singers?” Ethan asked.

“Yes, we do.”

“Then behold! Those three are our bards for tonight!” Ethan stood and gestured at the three flying machines.

Everyone scoffed at this, but he followed with a warning, “Beware that this will sound much different from any music you have ever heard, and the sound quality won’t be great either.”

Nobody understood what he meant, till the sound of electric guitars started reverberating across the volcano, and the song^[1] started playing.

“This… is metal music,” Ethan’s voice sounded over the guitar chords, amplified to stand out and be heard, “What you hear now is an instrument called an [electric guitar].”

“This is old music from my world, please don’t panic when they start singing. They are not with us, this was recorded in my world during a time long past.”

Everyone listened attentively as Ethan sat back down, some were looking around, bewildered, whilst others seemed enthralled by the electric sounds of the guitars.

The powerful voice of the singer began singing the lyrics.

“Fairest place upon this earth,
Ours and all descendants right of birth,
All we have of native soil,
Owed to tears and sweat of forebears toil,

Legends should recall their,

Iron will. Warrior skill,
And how far away they fought,
Set us free. Destiny,
For the blood of heroes bought,
Iron will. Warrior skill,
And how far away they fell,
Set us free. Destiny,
For tonight we dine in hell,

He fell alone,
And his name was carved upon a stone,
Fire bade him last farewell,
Wouldn't mind my name up there as well,

Legends might recall my,

Iron will. Warrior skill,
And how far away I fought,
Set us free. Destiny,
For the blood of heroes bought,
Iron will. Warrior skill,
And how far away they fell,
Set us free. Destiny,
For tonight we dine in hell,”

Ethan looked around and saw some of them bobbing their heads in true metalhead fashion, it seemed some habits transcended worlds. People were rushing from all over the distant campfires to sit closer and listen to the music, which apparently resonated with the Krell spirit in a way Ethan had anticipated.

“Legends should recall their,

Iron will. Warrior skill,
And how far away they fought,
Set us free. Destiny–”

Ethan was lost in the song, and when it abruptly ended, he did not notice because he was listening at a much higher quality in his head with his eyes closed.

Just then, the drones fell out of the sky like puppets with their strings cut. The music stopped and was replaced by screaming, and a loud explosion sounded. Alarms blared in Ethan’s mind, and it shook him out of his reverie.

Everyone ran towards the explosion to investigate, and in the stunned silence that followed, Ethan discovered that his old workshop had just evaporated into nothingness by a single, massive strike of lightning.

His new workshop, adjacent to the old one had survived the ordeal, but Ethan’s anger flared all the same.

He would get to the bottom of this, and whoever was responsible would dearly pay.

Adrian saw the gigantic bolt of lightning descend, and heard the explosion followed by horns blaring in the distance.

He interrupted his rigorous training immediately, he’d been out here training like a madman for almost an entire week, he rushed all the way back to see what had transpired. He hoped nothing bad had happened to his companions. Instinctually, he wanted to pray for their safety—especially Giran’s—but to whom? He was an apostate now.

The landscape blurred as Adrian activated his [Rapid March] skill. It was supposed to be used on an entire battalion of soldiers to speed up their march greatly for a limited time, but he was a [General] with no army. The entire bonus applied to him and him alone instead of being divided by an entire force of men, and he simply disappeared from his position as he rushed all the way back.

For the first time in ages, his heart settled around him like a shroud, and he felt a tangible air of confidence surround him. An unmistakable and unshakeable surety that he could face anything in his way, come what may.

To protect his friends. Even if they hated him now for quitting their party, he still considered them his family.

Adrian crossed the landscape and the traitorous mountain passes at great speed, dodging trees, pits, traps, and rocks with unparalleled precision. The militaristic part of him envied the Krell for their entrenched and defensible position, but that same part told him that anything striking at the heart of their settlement like this was not to be taken lightly, in light of that exact reason.

Was it a Polarii attack? Was it the disciples of Order? Or some other enemy he was not aware of? This Ethan West seemed to be making enemies with seemingly practised regularity. It was as if he was a lodestone attracting trouble, from the stories Adrian had heard, that is.

Adrian arrived to find the settlement gates barred. He pointed to the guards inside, and they refused to let him in.

“Let me in.” He commanded.

“No, nobody is to be let inside or out.” The guard said simply.

“What are you saying, soldier?” Adrian frowned.

“The settlement is on lockdown until further notice.” The woman said and crossed her arms over her chest.

“I see,” Adrian did not want to do this, but he thought he had to, “[Fall In!].”

His skill activated, and the woman and the other guards shifted on their feet and formed into a line. Adrian glared at them with his arms crossed. The air of command radiating off his body in waves. “Open that gate, soldier.”

The gate swung open and Adrian marched inside. It quickly closed behind him. He wondered why his skill had worked on the soldiers here, since they weren’t under his command, but didn’t dwell on it as he saw the smoke coming from the site of the explosion.

He hurried all the way there, and found nobody around, except a few Krell who were searching for something throughout the scattered debris.

“Have you seen Giran?” He asked them, and they looked at them queerly. Ah, they would not know her personally, “Was anyone injured here?”

They nodded and resumed working.

“Where are the injured?” Adrian injected some of his willpower into the words.

That caught their attention, and they pointed towards a newly erected building, “There, they are being healed, and the patriarch holds a council of war.” they volunteered that last bit and Adrian was grateful for the information.

Adrian strolled towards the building in a hurry, if his companions had been hurt, he would not hesitate in retaliating against whoever did this, but first, he needed to know what was going on.

And Ethan West most likely had that information.

Kluraz Mandas had felt the power surging through him, his heart had started beating louder than ever. At that moment, he had felt the divine energy from a blessing from Denvar coursing through his body.

A notification from The Wheel had told him that he had been appointed a First Emissary by Denvar, an unprecedented event in Polarii history.

Unable to contain his mounting excitement, and with all that energy coursing through his body, he had unleashed a legendary spell. A pillar of lightning had landed to vaporise two important-looking buildings in the midst of the settlement under the cover of the night, and Kluraz rushed away in haste after he had silently cast it. He had known what would happen when this spell landed.

Shockingly, one of the building had survived unscathed, and Kluraz wondered how that happened, even now as he combed through the settlement, looking for a specific person.

His god never forgave, and never forgot.

Denvar’s decree, after his vengeful act of destroying the two buildings as instructed, had been to find a certain apostate who lived in this settlement, a [Priestess] of Science, apparently. Kluraz was to drag her back to the High Temple of Denvar at all costs, preferably alive, but if it weren’t possible, dead would work too.

Only, he’d been instructed towards crystals of Black Magicite to use and capture her soul if he failed to bring her back alive. Kluraz had wondered at the forbidden knowledge instilled in him by his own god, but then again, he was on a divine mission. He would never question the will of his god.

Additionally, he had to bring back the soul of a [Harbinger], and he assumed that this task would be more difficult to execute. [Harbingers] were legendary entities, as was known from the history books that survived to this day. Morak Maun, the [Harbinger] of Strength and First Emperor, had single-handedly given rise to the Polarii Empire almost three thousand years ago.

It was ancient history, but Kluraz could not dismiss the thought. [Harbingers] were dangerous, usually the embodiment of their very own aspect, as they gave rise to it through personal belief alone.

Such people were not to be taken lightly.

He’d also been warned about the presence of a [Champion] here, and Kluraz shuddered thinking about that. He had to avoid that [Champion] at all costs.

Thankfully, his god was helping him today, because he spotted the slender horns unique to Polarii females heading towards the site of the explosion.

He’d never worked as an assassin, but for his god’s favour, he’d do anything. His new secondary class—his god’s new boon—would help him today.

Aylin Merza hurried through the crowds heading towards the site of the explosion, she knew it was Ethan’s workshop that had exploded, somehow.

She wondered what that foolish human had done now… was it an experiment gone awry? It wasn’t farfetched.

She turned a corner and was beset upon by a massive, hulking Polarii. His clothes had been shredded by something. Instant growth of muscle mass? What was another Polarii doing here? Was he part of the Church of Denvar sent after her? Already? How had he crossed all that distance—a distance spanning almost an entire continent—in weeks?

She quickly dodged back, and with a single touch, she activated her invisibility amulet.

The behemoth looked confused. Then, failing to find her, cast a spell of air that made the air turn thick and viscous like heavy molasses.

It was unfair, brutes normally couldn’t cast spells or use magic in any way, it was a big restriction of The Wheel, but not this one, apparently. It only reinforced her impression that this was an agent of Denvar’s.

Aylin struggled to move, and the hulking brute grinned as he noticed her position from the air rippling around her as it resisted her movements. She swore and turned still, but it was too late.

She tried to pray for deliverance, but found she couldn’t take a single breath of the thick air to utter a single word or even scream for help, and shortly thereafter, the hulking behemoth advanced towards his helpless victim with an evil smirk.

Grenda was having too much fun.

Memeta’s chosen gathered in a circle to observe her work, while Kani – the Krell’s ingenious [Empiric Metallurgist] – looked on proudly at what his creation of Flexibronze was enabling her to build.

It was the world’s first Flexibronze golem, and it came with flexible joints like none other in the history of the world.

This design had an exoskeleton made of the exotic alloy, which served to soften blunt damage greatly, and as for piercing attacks: it had an inner layer composed of a very fine crisscrossing steel mesh to reinforce it against those.

She wondered what Ethan West would say of this once he found out. Her group had tried to contact him but the guards would not allow them through, so they all settled on doing whatever, in the meantime.

Grenda and Faisal had elected to build this golem, and Felwar – along with his new best friend Kani – helped with the metalworking. Grenda was using all her [Artificer] tricks though, and the incomplete golem would be ready soon.

Aylin Merza’s most recent offer intrigued them all, however.

Grenda tried to forget about that for now, and focused her attention on the flitzerspicklestrut as she extended the precision tool inside the golem’s chest to adjust two joints that were out of alignment.

Merza’s offer could wait, and Grenda had a lot of work left before having to make that choice.

Ethan stood in the midst of his cluttered workshop, waiting for the spirit of [Commander] Talius to ask his question.

Time stretched for a bit, before the spirit finally spoke, “What is Science?”

Ethan contemplated the question, before giving a direct answer, “If you want the exact definition of science, then it would be the intellectual and practical activity encompassing the systematic study of the structure and behaviour of the physical and natural world through observation and experimentation.”

He paused a little at the spirit’s apparent confusion, before elaborating, “But let me rephrase that,” he said and gestured to everything around them, “Science is the study of the truth behind all things, through experimentation and observation,” he finally shrugged, “that’s not all of science though. It’s hard to define accurately, to be honest.”

The spirit contemplated for a while, and the quiet stretched again, so Ethan prompted him, “If that was your question, then what is your request?”

“Well, Aylin Merza… she made me an offer I could not refuse,” the [Commander] began, “to devote myself to science in exchange for a new body.” He paused, “she would convince the [Blacksmith] and [Artificer] building the new golem outside to have it be my host.”

“What? What new golem? They’re building a golem out there without me to witness it?” Ethan nearly flipped at the news, he wanted to storm outside and verbally abuse them, but restrained himself, “…and why would Aylin want you to devote yourself to science?” he added as an afterthought.

“Do you not know about Aylin, and the fact that she is a [Priestess] of Science now?”

“What? Since when?” Ethan asked in shock.

The spirit shook his head, “You seem to know less than I do. Perhaps I was wrong to…”

“Wait, what was your request?” Ethan was miffed.

The [Commander’s] ethereal head seemed to scan the cluttered workshop, and he paused before speaking again, “I saw the things you work on here, and I wanted you to be the one to build me a body.”

“Why me?” Ethan asked skeptically.

The spirit explained his rationale, “I have a… past with Aylin. I do not think she has my best interests at heart,” he pointed at Ethan, “You, however, seem to be a good person. I have seen you display [altruistic] traits.”

Ethan noticed a new word slipping into his vocabulary. He currently had The Wheel’s translation feature deactivated, but they both communicated via the magic tether somehow, and the meaning of words slipped into the conversation along with their pronunciation. In hindsight, that was useful.

“In addition–” the spirit gestured at the tether between them “–you know how to work with souls–” he then gestured around the workshop “–and in three days, I’ve seen you build more advanced creations than they ever could.”

He must be talking about the drone prototypes. Ethan thought, then spoke up, “You wish to have the body of a drone like the ones I’m building?”

Instead of speaking, the spirit pushed a detailed image through the tether. Ethan could see it clearly in his mind after giving permission to the AI to accept it.

“I see…” Ethan responded, before sinking into deep thought at the vision the spirit sent, “that’s a cool choice, I suppose.” he said after a pause, “…but I think I can give you something much greater than just the ability to fly. Something beyond that, even.”

Talius seemed intrigued, “Explain, please.”

“First, let me ask you a bit about your world.” Ethan started, “does your world know of the concept of [space]?”

“Space?”

The spirit seemed shocked as Ethan’s meaning and images rapidly started crossing the tether, and an unstoppable, concentrated torrent of knowledge on the subject flooded his mind.

Badtooth stood in a dignified pose – despite being completely bare but for a loincloth – as the leatherworker measured his body. Kothar sat to the side, grinning dumbly for some odd reason.

“You are smiling. Why do you smile?” Badtooth asked curiously.

“Nothing, really. I just never imagined being in a situation like this.” Kothar answered, trying to control his smile.

“Because I descend from Goblins, and Goblins are not worthy of new attire?”

Kothar looked abashed, “You didn’t have to put it like that…”

“It is the naked truth, and you have my word: my race was not always like this. We were the greatest, once. We were the eldest, once. Before your young races existed in this world,” Badtooth said with a regretful voice.

“But… How…?”

“Let me tell you the story of a great people… who once challenged the gods and lost,” Badtooth said proudly, before launching into his first retelling of ancient history.

And as the Göblis started telling the story, every single passing pedestrian paused to listen, and even the leatherworker paused for a while, before noticing his tarrying and rushing off to finish his work.

“You wish to build me a body that can travel to the stars?” Talius asked in shock.

“And beyond them, but this is not an altruistic decision. It will be an agreement. A fair exchange that would serve the both of us.” Ethan explained as he glanced down at the artefact book he still kept close at hand.

“I cannot enter a binding contract as a spirit.” The soul cautioned.

Ethan snorted, “Neither can I, apparently,” He said whilst remembering his new title of [Faithbreaker] which prevented him from entering binding contracts, which was begotten as a punishment for tricking Adrian.

He spoke up again, “But that does not mean we can’t enter into a mutually assured agreement if so we wish.”

“What do you propose?” Talius asked.

“I will build you the greatest body your world will ever know, and in exchange, you help me go back home by any means necessary. After it is done, you’re free to do whatever and go wherever you want, but if you decide to stay in that body, you’ll have to promise to take care of its crew and inhabitants.”

“Inhabitants?” Talius asked in bewilderment.

“Yes, it will be something grand enough to have its own ecosystem and population. A flying city and a war-ready fortress of epic proportions,” Ethan elaborated on his idea, “but that’s in the distant future.” he cautioned to prevent the spirit from getting too excited.

The spirit still got visibly excited, but Ethan ignored that. He continued speaking after another glance at the book, “In the interim, what do you know of dungeons?”

Kothar sat and listened to a marvellous story of ages long lost to time. The Göblis spoke eloquently, and frequently stopped to explain a concept or other, or a facet of their culture that a Krell was hard-pressed to understand.

“As a people, the Göblis were proud, we had a code of honour. We had empires larger than the Polarii of today. We were advanced in mathematics, the manipulation of nature, and our knowledge of materials was unparalleled.

“We built cities of metal that spanned our entire world, we changed the world to suit us, instead of changing ourselves to adapt.

“But we had no magic. Our world and our knowledge were completely mundane. Everything we built, we built with our own hands.”

There were murmurs at this, as the crowd remembered Ethan’s story of a world without magic.

The göblis didn’t care, and raised his voice.

“Hear me, and know this! For our people travelled far and wide. We build cities under the oceans, and we lived on the moons of our planet and deep below the land.

“But then magic came to the world, and it was our downfall. Because with magic…” He paused theatrically, “…came the gods.”

“Instead of wallowing in our misery and prostrating ourselves, we fought them tooth and nail, and every time we thought we were winning, they sent more and more forces. Stronger monsters that could fight our warmachines of steel. Monsters that could use magic, and finally, another race that could think and reason. They called themselves the Honaru, and worshipped the Gods with fervour.

“The Honaru had magic, and unlike the people of this world, we had no defence against it. As you know, magic stops affecting things once it touches upon a living being, because their body’s mana stops it. Our race had no chance to [evolve] such defensive mechanisms, we had no mana to begin with.”

He paused to explain the concept of evolution to the massed people, then continued.

“And so we made a great sacrifice to capture some Honaru and study them. We found their secret. In their brain they had a small organ that helped them connect to their soul, and to channel mana from it along the [meridians] of their bodies.”

He paused and explained that too.

“Without that [gland], you are helpless against a magic user, because they can rip you apart limb from limb with but a thought.

“As I said before, my people were skilled in their manipulation of nature, we called that science [Alröba Pâlatia], and in your language, that roughly translates to ‘The Science of the Manipulation of Essences’.” There were murmurs at this, yet again, but Badtooth continued unabashed, “We originally used that knowledge to give natural creatures new traits and features, we made beasts of burden and beasts of war, but now came the time to turn our own selves into weapons, too.

“We were losing that war, and so we manipulated our own essence, we tried to give ourselves that ability by transplanting that [gland] into our own bodies, our very own makeup. We tried something not even the gods would dare attempt.

“We were proud… and we were foolish.” Badtooth looked crestfallen at this point. “That was our downfall. We won that war, and killed every Honaru there was. We defeated them with magic and technology, but we slowly… became something else.

“The gods bided their time and stopped attacking us, once they saw how strong we were, but once our people figured out the procedure of modifying themselves, we didn’t stop there. We should have stopped, but could not resist the temptation to become greater than who we were.

“We had access to magic, and we wanted more. So we added a second [gland], and a third.

“It was too much mana in our bodies, and the magic slowly corrupted us. We became abominations of flesh, magic, and steel.

“Some of us escaped that fate by rejecting the modifications, those were the wise ones, but most did not.

“The survivors slowly died out, too. Their wisdom was not enough to save them from our own folly.

“Our race slowly devolved into the goblins you see today. A pitiful remnant of what was once a great people, with no recollection of their own identity or their past.

“The gods we had originally defeated came out of hiding, and punished us by scattering our devolved remnants to the winds.

“We existed long before you came along,” he finished with sorrow.

Everyone was silent after the dreadful telling, but people slowly started to disperse. Kothar sat down and contemplated in silence as the leatherworker finally finished his job and returned with Badtooth’s new attire.

The tale spread throughout the settlement like wildfire. They had all been elated about their new devotion to science, but now there was confirmation that science was not all good, as it was purported to be.

After Ethan finished asking his questions of [Commander] Talius regarding dungeons, he tested his new spell – the one produced by his new magical compiler – with satisfactory results.

What surprised him was the notifications that appeared.

• You have created the primordial spell [Aegis of Energy Absorption] of the magical school of [Energy Manipulation]! For creating a [Unique] primordial spell by yourself and without external assistance, you have been awarded a one-time bonus to experience. [+6,000 XP (Deferred)]

• [Aegis of Energy Absorption] has reached level 1. [+100 XP]

• Your spell, [Aegis of Energy Absorption] has been archived in The Repository of Knowledge.

• For adding a powerful spell to The Repository, you have been awarded <+10 SP>.

• Feat of Magic performed. <+4 INT, +2 WIS>

• Distributing 7246 XP. (+60 deferred)

• Congratulations, you are now a level 12 [Harbinger – Science]! <+1 SP, +5 AP>

• Congratulations, you are now a level 12 [Magineer – Chaos]! <+1 SP, +5 AP>

Well, aside from The Wheel picking a name for the spell for him—which both frustrated and elated him—because he’d been looking forward to coming up with a good name. Well, he dreaded the horrible names he’d come up with, and was kind of glad The Wheel took care of it.

What this meant to him at the time, though, was that The Wheel was capable of recording, analysing, and understanding spell models, and perhaps improving them. Which was something that intrigued Ethan greatly.

He accessed his spells screen to take a look.

Ethan noticed his AI’s descriptions for spells outside The Wheel’s purview, as those mentioned him and differed greatly from the typical Wheel conventions for describing spells. He asked his AI to remove anything not naturally coming through The Wheel.

This left him with [Telekinesis], [Fireball], [Seed of Chaos], [Aegis of Energy Absorption], and [Cleanse].

He wondered why some spells triggered such a message, while others did not. What were the criteria for the Wheel to recognise a spell and reward him for it, and why did it ignore things like [Flight] and [Artillery Strike]? What was The Repository of Knowledge, and what was its purpose?

He opened the skill store and decided to take a look. Then found three new skills that excited him, but also made him wonder at The Wheel’s game.

Was this the carrot, then? [Improved Learning] was amazing, but it was also a trap that would integrate him with The Wheel deeper than ever. Similarly, [Runeforging] would require access to his mind to work, since he had to visualise the spell models in his head.

[Reverse Engineer] looked innocent at first, until you considered the fact of how you “obtained” said schematics. If they were sent to his mind directly, then that would deepen his integration with The Wheel as well.

This was the main reason he did not want to buy any skills, especially things like [Scribe] and [Improve Schematic], because while [Scribe] was used to copy schematic, it did not specify the source, just that it could copy them, and that source could be his mind, which would deepen his connection. He also assumed [Improve Schematic] would have access to his mind.

Lastly, he looked at his character sheet, and was surprised.

That’s a lot of skill and attribute points. He thought.

He quickly dumped all the attribute points into intelligence and wisdom equally, which brought them up to 49 and 37, respectively. This brought up his total mana to 414 and his regen to 4.9 per minute.

The new title of [Faithbreaker] did not bother him much, it was… fitting. [Advocate of Chaos] was a little worrying, though, because it meant that [Chaos Reign] could go out of control even faster.

He considered opening the settlement screen, as he hadn’t done that ever since the blessing, but decided against it. He also considered checking out the leadership skills that were mentioned during his coronation, but he had seen enough screens for today. He’d deal with it later.

Now was time for something more important. He had to focus on his current goal of building a drone printing machine!

He considered what to do with 24 skill points, and ultimately decided to use 4 now, and save the rest for a rainy day. The 4 SP he decided to use would go towards [Study (Basic)], and for the second time in his life here, he purchased it.

• You spend 4 SP to purchase [Study (Basic)].

• You obtain [Study (Basic)]. You may purchase this skill again at a later date.

• What topic would you like to study?

The skill doubled in SP cost again. Ah, so that’s the way it is, a geometric progression. Ethan thought, and decided to put the skill points to good use.

He tried “Thaums” but the skill insisted it did not know what that was. Luckily it prompted him again, and Ethan felt stupid for not figuring this out earlier. Of course, The Wheel doesn’t know what a thaum is; I made that name up as a homage to Terry Pratchett. Damn it.

He was now faced with the problem of communicating with The Wheel according to its own nomenclature, which he was quite ignorant of.

Thinking hard, Ethan suddenly facepalmed as he remembered the new skill from earlier, [Runeforging], and its description.

“Magical instructions,” He enunciated.

<Incoming information packet. Would you like to accept it?>

“Yes!”

<Packet received. Decoding…>

He had to wait for an agonising length of time.

<Decoding complete. Would you like to review the data manually or a direct memory transfer?>

Ethan grinned as he selected to review it manually.

Milandera finished preparing the food and sat down by the campfire, sulking. Adrian had quit their party earlier, and all their moods had soured greatly from there.

She looked towards Kothar’s tent before averting her eyes, and wondered what she should do. She looked deep at the embers of the campfire and thought deeply on the subject.

She would admit to liking Kothar, and loving a lot about him. She still had not forgiven him, though. When she’d heard that the Færie bitch had hugged him while naked, she got very furious and almost physically assaulted him later, if that were even possible with his new status as a [Champion].

But now, and in hindsight, she realised that he was still faithful to her, and after cooling down and thinking about it, she discovered that her spike of jealousy meant something else, too.

She loved that man to the core, she just refused to admit it.

She took her time to reflect on that, before speaking up to her companions. The ones still left, that is. Giran, and her own brother, Normand looked up as she spoke.

“I think I’m going to retire from adventuring, too.” Milandera said with newfound resolve.

Her words echoed in the silent evening. Before all hell broke loose.

Eragoth soared above the clouds in her dragon form. She spotted a dim light from a distant Polarii scouting airship and decided to rid the world of one more group of pests.

She dove down from her cloud cover and fell upon them at great speed. The Polarii [Mages] didn’t get the chance to erect a shield as they were cooked along with the rest of the crew and the wooden beams of the airship itself.

One of them was attentive and managed to shield himself in time, though. Sadly, he was now falling through the air at great speeds, as the ship carrying him was reduced to ash.

The man started falling towards the ground, and Eragoth watched with anticipation as he approached the hulking mountains below, waiting for that satisfactory sound of yielding flesh and solid bone meeting the rocky mountainside.

Just as he nearly splattered on the ground, a bubble of water rose from the nearby river and engulfed the man, saving his life. Eragoth was furious, and swooped down to see who had stolen her kill.

It was another Polarii [Mage]. He was haggard and dressed in Feywolf furs, and looked to be starving. A very odd sight, to be honest. So very odd, in fact, that it quelled her fury and gave rise to curiosity in its place.

Instead of roasting them both where they stood, Eragoth decided to investigate.

As she approached the haggard [Mage] in her full dragon form, the man started raving whilst screaming her name.

Ah, this one seemed to know her. Interesting. No one usually knew of both her form and her name and lived to tell the tale.

Then he said something about avenging [Commander] Talius, and she understood. He was one of the group that managed to escape her earlier when the [Commander] had detonated his body in their battle.

But what was he still doing here? And why was a Polarii [Mage] – one of their most well-treated castes – living like a hermit on her mountain?

She decided to capture them both, and bring them back to the prisoner cells. The shamans would get the information out of them, one way or the other.

His pitiful water spells did nothing to hinder her advance. She snatched him and the unconscious man in her talons and flew back to the settlement.

She couldn’t stop thinking about Ethan West during her trip back, that man had emerged from his tent a changed man. She tried to banish the thought like usual, but it persisted.

She wondered what Ethan would say when he emerged later to find these new prisoners. She knew he didn’t like imprisonment in general, thanks to her regrettable actions when they’d first met.

Ethan was excited beyond words.

It was a thaumic encyclopedia! One with a few thaums that Ethan hadn’t known of already, and some general knowledge about “magical instructions” and their purposes. He supposed the (Basic) part of the skill’s name meant really that, it was the absolute minimum to understand thaums.

He ordered the AI to feed the compiler all of the new thaums, and contemplated the small snippets of general information interspersed throughout the material.

Apparently, there was a thaum for every conceivable “unambiguous” action – called Verbs by The Wheel – such as manipulating a physical constant, law, or property, and some magical ones too. What Ethan had called ‘thaumic modifiers’ like Chaotic and Orderly were actually called Adjectives.

While Verbs had their property of intensity, Adjectives had no such thing, they were more structural in nature, and imprinted mana as it flowed through the spell model by changing the way the previous Verb worked. To simulate the property of intensity – e.g. specify how Orderly something was – one had to chain the same adjective in a series after the target thaum inside the spell model.

For example, and using the new spell syntax: Target.infuse.orderly.orderly(energy) would double the amount of Order the instructions imbued. Ethan gritted his teeth, because this meant he had to modify the compiler with new logic.

Although… it appeared that every thaum had limits on how it functioned and consumed proportional mana to perform its task, and this meant that magic in this universe ultimately honoured thermodynamics.

No infinite computing, then. Too bad. Ethan thought regrettably, while also feeling relieved for escaping that specific paradox^[1].

The Wheel’s nomenclature and choice of names was so interesting in so many ways, though, and the subtle allusions to linguistics didn’t escape Ethan, but he was quickly distracted by what he read next.

There were vague references to something called “Potentia”, and how it was the “building blocks of reality”, there were mentions of how one could bend reality itself by commanding Potentia.

He didn’t understand most of it, but the name rung a bell. Wasn’t this lovely magical book he’d become inseparable with called “The Accords of Potentia”? Didn’t that book predict the future based on current events? What did that mean? Was this “Potentia” related to the future somehow?

He’d find out later, for sure.

You’re out there
My shimmering pulsar with a ray

Distant, interstellar, somewhere
Your beam is light years away

A shining beacon, a lonely flare
Dispelling coldness on the way

I will travel, and I will chase
To look again upon your face
A homing missile, through outer space
Seeking, reaching, for your embrace

You’re out there
My shimmering pulsar with a ray

Distant, interstellar, a blinding glare
Your beam will guide me, one fateful day

I’ll journey to your orbit, and I’ll be there
I’ll hold you, and keep the coldness at bay

I will travel, and I will chase
To look again upon your face
A homing missile, through outer space
Seeking, reaching, for your embrace

You’re out there
My shimmering pulsar with a ray

Distant, interstellar, a sight so rare
A visage so beautiful, it bends light astray

Burn ever brighter, ’cause for you I’ll dare
to challenge the fates, and come what may

I will travel, and I will chase
To look again upon your face
A homing missile, through outer space
Seeking, reaching, for your embrace

“Distant Dreams – My Pulsar (Radio Edit) – June 2116”^[1]

Morning, Day 5 AoE

Adiah sat across from Ethan in the crowded university cafeteria. She twiddled her spoon idly as they shared a communal breakfast that morning. She suddenly smirked mischievously, and asked him a strange question out of the blue, “What does the zombie physicist eat?”

“What?” Ethan asked in bewilderment. He’d honestly thought he’d heard her question incorrectly, given the loud and crowded setting.

“Branes^[2]! You doofus!” she said before giggling loudly.

“Oh god! You colossal nerd!” Ethan accused after a hearty laugh that left him breathless.

Many heads turned to look at them in disdain, but he no longer cared about their dirty looks or opinions. He was truly happy for the first time in forever, and they could go to hell if they thought their looks could change that. He no longer needed their approval.

A chime sounded and broke him from the pleasant memory. He didn’t want to wake up, but he knew he had to.

Ethan abandoned his dream and woke up to an urgent notification from his AI, his groggy eyes glazing over as he looked at the messages.

His AI had just issued a high priority alert as instructed, because one of its priority tasks had been completed.

Ethan stood up slowly, stretched, and kicked away an incomplete husk of another failed prototype. He went to sit at a nearby stone stool as his stupor fully abandoned him.

He was finally free from having to patch primordial spells together. He was finally free from having to design his spells using the primitive pseudo-formula syntax he’d initially come up with. One which he – quite frankly – found woefully lacking. If only because he had to consider the structure of the spell model whilst also working on the underlying logic. It was an inefficient process; because he couldn’t use discrete units of measurement, and could only build the spell with the stronger thaums having more ‘weight’ to them in the relative distribution of the spell’s mana.

He contemplated his recent breakthrough into the nature of magic on the first days of his voluntary isolation. It had had a great outcome, to be frank.

Finally free of the daily distractions, the influence of emotional-suppression drugs, and thinking like himself again for the first time in a long time, he’d contemplated this property of spell models, and managed to unlock one of the secrets behind thaums: other than their type – which determined the rules of connectivity between them and the kind of reaction caused by Mana meeting with Conduit particles whilst imprinted by a specific instruction – every thaum had another adjustable property he’d so far mistook to be structural, or size-related; but empirical evidence through experimentation proved that assumption wrong.

He decided to dub this property ‘intensity’, and it governed how strong the reaction from Conduit particles to a Mana particle was. A thaum configured with a higher intensity would require more mana to activate, and would cause a stronger effect to manifest, in relation to the average baseline of other thaumic instructions. The only way Ethan could describe intensity was as a ‘memetic charge’ of sorts, but that was a stupid name, so he gave it a more apt name that applied only after Mana was imprinted by a thaum: the thaumostatic charge.

Ethan finally understood the true purpose and peculiarity of Mana as a subatomic particle: it was a carrier of information, not just energy.

He decided to assign the baseline minimum of thaumostatic charge to result from activating the simplest thaum in its neutral state – the structural one he called Connect – the relative value of 1 Thuum, with every full multiplier of intensity giving another increment of 1.0 Thuum.

In essence: a thaum with an intensity of 3.0 Thuum would imprint mana with triple the effect, and charge it with 3 Th – with Th being his preferred shorthand notation for this unit.

With this new discovery, his old formula syntax was utterly obsolete.

Luckily though, that was the missing major discovery he had needed to push another project to completion, his AI had just notified him that it had finished building the binaries, and so he began to review the finished project in earnest.

A traditional computer architecture always had well-defined rules and parameters to conform to. For centuries, every manufacturer of integrated circuits – from CPUs to GPUs, to ASICs and beyond – would release datasheets containing the discrete parameters for the hardware, which described everything in great detail: from comprehensive lists of every instruction the system supported and the rules governing them, to register layouts, interrupts and signals, memory addressing modes, and so on and so forth.

The point was this: to write a toolchain targeting a specific architecture, one had to be aware of every nuance involved.

So, Ethan had ordered a huge modification to an old open-source compiler toolchain, to produce spell models instead of traditional programs.

The old compiler – in essence – was designed for a high-level Domain-Specific Language^[3] based on an obscure software design pattern for state machines. He’d tasked his AI with repurposing this old open-source compiler quite a while ago, soon after he’d discovered thaums and their properties, then forgot all about it while letting it run the absurdly difficult task in the background.

While all computer architectures had to be well-defined in advance to be a viable compilation target, this world’s magic was not. Which presented a challenge, because Ethan had very limited knowledge to work with. He’d established most of the basic rules, and collated enough data to develop basic spells, but he had no way of knowing what other thaums remained out of his reach, and he did not want to keep editing and re-compiling his new magical compiler every time he discovered a new thaum. Not to mention the new discovery of Thuums, or the unit tests… those would take ages to update and rerun every single time he added a new thaum.

In the past couple of days he’d actively pushed the project forward. No longer satisfied by being a passive observer and letting his AI do all the work, Ethan had resolved himself to no longer let things happen around him, and to no longer react only when he had to. He’d get his hands dirty and actively work his way out of this predicament. By hook or by crook, he’d achieve his goal of going back home.

And so he’d spent every waking moment during the last 3 days experiencing accelerated time inside his simulated virtual lab. Weeks of time had passed for him, and with the exception of taking care of his physical needs, he worked and collaborated with his AI to rewrite large swaths of code. He spent the times in-between – during long compilations or computations he could not help with – designing a viable chassis for an advanced magical drone.

The reason it had taken so long for him and the AI to finish this compiler was that it was made of more than a tokenizer, a lexer, a parser, and an emitter. Unlike other compilers, it also had to account for a specialised module and a custom emitter he’d created, and those needed to be integrated into the pre-existing codebase.

His idea was to internally utilise something called an Incremental Tensor Graph to grant this compiler the ability to learn and integrate new thaums into itself. This way, it would be able to improve and adapt itself to an ever-expanding architecture. It was many a step above the simple Generative Adversarial Network he’d used in The Divine Sceptre of Primordial Will.

At this thought, Ethan decided he was done with the theory. He itched to try out his new compiler.

He looked at his AI’s improvised IDE^[4], and found that it was adequate for his purposes. It was a code editor he’d specifically commissioned for his use along with the finished project.

It was time to code something again, and for the first time in weeks: Ethan’s face lit up with a genuine smile.

[Commander] Talius roamed all over the Krell settlement in spirit form, and observed in wonder.

His tether to Ethan West did not restrict his movement much, and although he felt he was being parasitic in a way, he couldn’t turn down Ethan’s offer of a sustained mana donation.

His existence was too boring otherwise, and that man did him a kindness Talius doubted he knew the magnitude of, because no matter how small the amount, it was still enough to allow him to interact with the world again.

Even though Talius could manifest and communicate with people, should he so choose, he chose not to. He truly did not want to scare innocents – especially children – as they went about their daily lives.

That changed as he spotted a set of familiar female Polarii horns towering over the crowd and moving with a purposeful gait.

“Aylin? Aylin Merza?” he whispered, and as if sensing him, she paused, turned, and looked; but saw nothing out of the ordinary. She seemed to be lost in thought, but looked alive and well.

So Talius started following her around. His curiosity at how this came to be burning with unprecedented intensity.

Why was Aylin Merza amongst the Krell? And why was she still alive? Wasn’t this the same Aylin Merza who torched Krell villages with abandon like it was nothing?

Yet she seemed to coexist with them, and they… seemed to respect her?

Aylin paused in her walking as a small human child tugged at her robes. She looked down with a frown at the obstruction, and Talius felt himself subconsciously tugging on the mana tether, drawing more and more mana to his soul, despite his promise to himself never to do that.

Just before Talius manifested into a tangible cloud of spiritual energy to defend the child, Aylin noticed the source of the disruption and kneeled down. She touched the girl’s head and closed her eyes as if in prayer, and the child seemed to freeze.

Aylin lifted her hand, and Talius’ spirit vision could see the divine blessing’s energy twirling about the girl, its effects apparent on the child. The little girl smiled and ran off laughing.

Aylin stood and smiled grimly.

Did she just show kindness? Or was it a ruse?

Had Aylin become a [Priestess], then? But when? Why? And how?

Was she now a [Priestess] of the new Goddess of Science he’d heard about? But that would mean that Denvar would…

Too many questions needed answering; but before revealing his presence to her, Talius decided to follow her around and observe closely.

She navigated through the crowd with surety, and people nodded, acknowledging her. His eyes tried to wander and look at all of the wonders happening around him, but he had to stay with her, lest he lose her trail.

A half-finished golem made of a bronze-like material that seemed to be unnaturally flexible stood in a workshop to the side, its chest was wide open, exposing all the clockwork inside. A gnome woman was reaching into its open chest with a tool while talking enthusiastically to a [Blacksmith]. A dwarf was writing furiously in a journal to the side, whilst somehow simultaneously chugging impossible quantities of ale.

Talius ignored the spectacle. It was not the right time, and Aylin had disappeared around a corner. He quickly followed after her.

He saw the tail of her robes trailing behind her as she entered a building that was being renovated with new wooden supports. He phased through the room’s solid wooden walls, only to find her waiting for him expectantly.

“What do you want, spirit?” she asked him icily. Her gaze settling on him.

“You can see me?” [Commander] Talius wondered aloud, but it seemed she couldn’t hear him.

Sighing, he drew slightly on his mana tether and manifested.

“Who are you? And what do you want?” she asked while preparing a spell he assumed to be offensive in nature.

“Hello, Aylin.” Talius spoke.

Adrian stood stock still in the sunny glare of an open plateau, a cold stream of sweat running in rivulets down his back.

Still as a statue, his sword arm hurt from being held high. Heat from the sun cooked his body slowly; but he pushed on.

Soon after Ethan West disappeared into his workshop – to Adrian’s great dismay at never speaking to him – the ex-[Paladin] had realised that he’d now be hunted by the disciples of his old church for life, as an apostate.

And if that other life had taught him anything, it was that life was precious, and way too short. So he cast his lot. He told his old party that he was going to quit adventuring, and in the wake of their shocked expressions… he’d left and come to this quiet plateau. To train and prepare for what was to come.

He was wearing his old [Paladin’s] armour, and although the Krell elders had decided to give it back to him at the incessant prodding of Kothar, their [Champion] – which was an act Adrian still failed to completely understand – it felt… unfamiliar.

His fake life had felt more real than this one. He missed his [General’s] battle regalia.

He would wait, and he would meet with Ethan West, and ask him an important question that plagued his thoughts.

In the meantime, he trained, and prepared himself for what may come.

Ethan brought up one of his most complex primordial spells to date: the “Ambient Energy Collector” spell that he never quite managed to give a proper name.

This spell was his bread and butter, simply because it allowed him to absorb any hostile energy, as he had done in his most recent battle against the Eye, and against the beawick’s thralls later that same day.

Despite it usually afflicting him with the status [Overcharged – Mana] afterwards, it was still very useful. The fact that he used it as the basis for his Mana Cell proved that.

It was also a bit special in the way it utilised conditional thaums, which were usually reserved for use in enchantments by the denizens of this world.

As it were, it looked like this:

$energy = Detect() | Shape("Sphere") - 
    $(energy == 'Mana') { $energy } { Convert('Mana') * $energy } > Absorb

He created a new data node and attempted to reproduce this spell using the new syntax. In the process, he found himself unhappy with how it worked, and kept adding more basic features that should have been there since the start.

Ethan spent an indeterminate amount of time refining his spell, and working out the exact details, and before he knew it, it was ready.

It was comforting to relax and code something again, no matter how simple it was.

// Event-based recombinant programming! I thought they taught us this archaic crap 
// in college just to spite us, now I find it actually useful!

// The global variables below are part of the spell’s immutable state structure, 
// mutating the state in a `when` block will only reflect on the next state (remember 
// that, doofus!), and the spell will only advance by a single `tick` once all currently
// executing actions return. I’m only using constant variables here, so the state is 
// never updated.

/** Parameters: */

// Implicitly end the spell if no actions are fired during a tick.
@forever(false)

// How many ticks per real second this spell will work at. Currently 1000, a tick is evaluated 
// once every millisecond.
// TODO: experiment with precision in a safe way later. A remotely-triggered enchantment?
@clockspeed(1000)

/** Inputs: */

/** FIXME: Make all inputs adjustable after casting in the future? 
 *
 *  Setting `@input` to 'once' makes it poll on startup only, while 'always' would poll for the input 
 *  with every new tick, or I could use a custom expression to determine tick times. 
 */

// A control switch to decide whether or not to keep the user from overcharging by channelling to 
// the nearest detected object made of plastic. On by default.
@input('once')
const failsafe: boolean = true;

// Maximum spell duration in milliseconds, 0 disables the limit. (Default is 30 minutes)
@input('once')
const duration: number = 30 * 60 * 1000; // 1,800,000 ms

// Sphere radius in millimetres, defaults to 2 metres.
@input('once')
const radius: number = 2000;

/** 
 *  TODO:  Figure out how to handle the polling and information flow after a spell is cast?
 *
 *  Possible solution: discover the information transmission thaums The Wheel is using 
 *  to bind to nervous systems of living creatures, and use those to send
 *  inputs to spells later. If The Wheel can use them, why can’t I?
 * 
 *  Alternative/bad solution: use encrypted digital transmissions over radio waves to encode
 *  the inputs in a future iteration, as a low-tech alternative? 
 *  Con: this could be bad for spell size and complexity!
 */

/** State Variables */

// FIXME: Make the shape of the field adjustable in the future? 
// FIXME: The sphere’s radius won’t get updated if the radius is made adjustable in the future!
const sphere = new Volume.Sphere(radius);

/**  
 *  The following block is a condition/action pair. With every `tick` of the spell, it will 
 *  evaluate the condition enclosed in the parenthesis, and if it evaluates to true or a truthy value, 
 *  it will execute the enclosed logic defined by the action in a procedural manner.
 * 
 *  The `detect()` call can return `null` if it detects nothing, so we don’t really have to add an 
 *  extra `if` statement to check the variable again. It will skip the block when it detects nothing.
 * 
 *  Note: the keyword `with` can be used to restrict any spell effect to a boundary/volume, 
 *  and here we’re using it to restrict the field to a `Shape` based on the sphere we 
 *  instantiated earlier.
 * 
 *  Note: There are two variants of `detect` thaums: the first is for energy and the second for
 *  matter. They’re distinguished here by the standard library, the `Energy` namespace holds
 *  everything related to energy, including specific thaum variants, the `Material` namespace is
 *  for matter.
 */
when(const energy = Energy.detect<any>() with Shape(sphere)) { 
  // The `as` keyword will cast the detected energy type to mana using the `Convert` thaum. 
  // Nothing will change if the original energy was mana.
  const converted = energy as Energy.Mana;
  // Note: `User` is a singleton instance that always refers to the caster of the spell.
  // I hate this syntax, but I had to encapsulate these contextual/structural thaums somehow. 
  // FIXME: Make this less ugly in the future: a.k.a. rewrite the thaumic standard library.
  if (!failsafe || (User.mana + converted) <= User.maxMana){ 
    // This branch is entered when all converted mana is absorbable, or the [Overcharged]
    // failsafe is disabled.
    // Channel the converted energy to the user. Note the chained `orderly` modifier!
    User.absorb.orderly(converted);
  } else {  
    // This branch is entered when the captured energy is too much to give to the user in full.
    // The following line detects any plastic nearby using the relevant variant of the 
    // `detect` thaum. 
    // Note that most common molecular structures are exposed in the `Material` namespace!
    const buffer = Material.detect<Material.Polymer>() with Shape(sphere);
    // Calculate how much mana the user can currently absorb before getting overcharged.
    const maximum = User.maxMana - User.mana;
    // Calculate the extra mana left.
    const overflow = converted - maximum;
    // Send the maximum possible mana to the user.
    User.absorb.orderly(maximum);
    // Check if any plastic was found.
    if (buffer) {
      // Send the overflow to the plastic.
      buffer.absorb.orderly(overflow);
    } else {
      // FIXME: UNTESTED EDGE CASE.
      // When there’s no plastic to be found, we can’t store the mana, and if we don’t release
      // this excess mana during the same tick, something bad could happen to the spell
      // because excess energies can’t be released automatically, yet!
      // Possible solution: make plastic with the excess mana and store mana into it?
      // Temp solution: try to invigorate the user using the excess mana.
      User.infuse.orderly(overflow as Energy.Life);
    }
    // The user’s mana is full, end this spell now.
    exit();
  }
}

// End the spell when the tick number exceeds the duration. Will be disabled if 0 is passed
// as the duration.
when(duration != 0 && history.tick >= duration) {
  exit();
}

It was more straightforward than he expected, although his old habit of recording his thoughts verbatim in code comments manifested itself as soon as he began.

In the end, he’d coded what he considered to be a very good proof-of-concept state machine. Because that was what a spell – by definition – was: a finite state machine with well-defined inputs and rules to follow in every situation.

He reviewed the program again, adding more of his thoughts in the comments. He felt dissatisfied with some aspects of this syntax, but he’d deal with those later. At least this version of the spell had a safety feature and a finite duration!

Another fact cheered him up, though. He could now specify the radius of the sphere in millimetres and the spell duration in seconds. This was the greatest difference to manipulating the spell model directly as he was used to: by manually – or automatically via AI calibration – adjusting thaums to the desired intensity.

Instead, this new language allowed him to use actual units of measurement from his world directly whilst designing spells, and the compiler would take care of the rest.

This software design pattern he’d just introduced was called when^[5] and involved something called ‘event-based programming’. It was directly inspired by gene expression, and was widely adapted at one point in the past with the advent of adaptive chips designed for real-time applications, but was no longer dominant in the software markets of his world.

It was simple, really: DNA was a collection of chromosomes, and those were collections of genes. Each gene was made of basepairs, and those could be further divided into regions, the relevant of which – in this case – were the activation region and the coding region.

To understand this pattern, you had to consider a cell’s nucleus that’s frozen in time as the current state, and a tick to be the smallest possible discrete unit of time representing how long it took to evaluate the entire DNA strand and the genes engulfed within. In this vision, every single gene was made up of a tuple: an activation condition – an activation region in genetic terms – with an attached action – the coding region – that was made of executable instructions.

With every ‘tick’ that elapsed, only the genes with an activation condition not inhibited by the current state would be expressed, and each expression of a gene served to alter the ‘state’ from the current to the next, thus ‘mutating’ the current state into the next and advancing time by one tick.

Of course, the newly mutated state would trigger a different set of genes on the next ‘tick’, and those would further mutate the state, triggering even more genes with more complex activation conditions, and so on and so forth.

The original software design pattern took this a step further, actually. It would save a history of elapsing states in a one-dimensional history vector, each identified by index as a concrete tick in time. You could rewind back in time and have your program revert back to a previous state whilst taking back information from ‘the future’. It was a powerful concept that was usually overlooked, except for traversing data structures like graphs and trees, in which case it was a great boon to have.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t possible to implement such advanced features here, and that included another feature: DNA-like recombination. That was dangerous, because living spells capable of reproduction could destroy the universe by uncontrolled reproduction, and the former temporal model was simply not feasible, since it would drive the spell out of sync with reality without super-complex logic to recover or accompanying temporal thaums.

“Nothing to be done about that, I guess.” Ethan shrugged and whispered, “It’s the perfect pattern for the job, though.”

A roaming spirit looked up at him from the corner, “What?” asked [Commander] Talius, who had just returned from roaming outside and was apparently deep in his own thoughts.

“Nothing, just talking to myself,” Ethan said.

“You are a strange man, Ethan West. Aylin has spoken to me about you,” the spirit responded.

“You know Aylin Merza?” Ethan lifted an eyebrow, curious.

“Ah, yes. One could say that she’s the reason for my early retirement.” the spirit snorted.

“You’ve returned early today,” Ethan observed quietly while hitting the ‘compile’ button on his UI.

“Yes, I met with Aylin, who has admittedly changed quite a lot,” the spirit said, before he started pacing in his ethereal body. “She told me of you, and mentioned that you are the [Harbinger] of Science? A new aspect with great potential from another world?” He paused, contemplating something very deeply.

“She’s not my goddess,” Ethan said adamantly, “she’s theirs. I’m just a traveller passing through your realm.”

“So it is true, you are from another world?”

“Yes.”

“Then I have a question, and a request,” the spirit said hesitantly.

A chime sounded, indicating that the compilation of the new spell was complete, but Ethan ignored it for now. He nodded at the spirit to elaborate.

Jarret Lytell was lost.

He’d crawled, he’d begged, he’d eaten maggots from refuse piles.

He’d finally discovered he was mad, when a passing [Priest] on a prairie offered to bless him. He’d almost rejected it, but luckily, something made him accept, and that was how he’d regained his mental faculties.

Now sane again, he was still lost, and he was bitter at his treatment by The Hands, the Polarii Empire’s secret service.

Thankfully, he was no longer completely helpless. With the return of his sanity, his magic was coming back to him, slowly but surely, allowing him to hunt his own food in the wilderness. Which was what he’d been doing for a long while. What he was doing right now, actually.

He hunted, and he traded pelts for what he needed. He was afraid of going too close to a city – lest The Hands have a bounty on his head – but he managed to contact a few nearby villages, and lived the life of a lonely hermit.

He didn’t mind this new life too much, though. His temporary dwelling wasn’t that bad. It was an abandoned cave he’d come across while hunting Feywolves. They were a vicious breed of wolf with an affinity for the wind, but as a [Hydromancer] he could asphyxiate them to death and collect their valuable pelts intact, an advantage no other hunter could claim to have.

His current life wasn’t that terrible, but compared to his old life as the second son of a noble serving in the military… well, he didn’t want to dwell on that; but his anger grew, and so did his bitterness.

Feywolves were becoming harder and harder to find as of late, and he found himself ranging farther and farther afield, just to spot any tracks or evidence of their passing.

With winter at the door, it was a given that they would soon migrate higher into the mountains. The only option left to him was to climb and go into the Krashi mountains, where the Krell made their homes.

Jarret stood at the base of the mountains, contemplating going further or going back. He looked up at the heights, and the celestial tree peeking out of the volcanic crater with awe.

Firming his resolve, he made a decision.

The gods had convened, and the Divine Assembly was in upheaval, yet again.

Some spoke quietly in pairs, while others debated loudly, and some shouted their outrage for all to hear.

The automated predictive subroutines in The Wheel had made an important executive decision to secretly reset the calendar with a new age.

Zalgo smiled with a self-satisfied smirk while observing the glorious pandemonium with a raised water hose in place of brows.

He truly enjoyed nothing like he enjoyed this bedlam of his own making. He loved it when his hard work and real strife were rewarded by chaos on the celestial scale.

He looked first at Memeta, with her stern expression. Then at [Error: Undefined reference], who looked tired.

They were waiting for their turn to speak, to announce a declaration of holy war.

He looked at Eterna across from him, who was still sulking and seemingly confused.

He looked at Denvar and his posse, who were currently shouting empty threats about how this decision had to be reverted immediately, or there would be consequences.

It was natural, Zalgo supposed. It was Denvar’s age that had just ended: The Age of Might, which lasted for nearly three thousand years, and made the Polarii – the beloved race of his [Harbinger] – into what they were today.

Zalgo then looked at Tauldarr – God of War and Conflict, who was observing the proceedings with a smug expression. Yeah, plenty of wars and conflicts were guaranteed to happen soon. He had a right to be smug about it.

He looked at Scintilla and Marlon, the former of which looked very pleased, and the latter of which was completely absorbed in playing with a shimmering ball that changed colour every time it bounced. Zalgo remembered giving it to him as a gift recently. Those two had a long way to go, yet.

He looked at Mordron – The God of Death and Pestilence, and found him stoically watching with no expression apparent on his hideous undead face. That was one to watch for. His nemesis was quietly watching with interest in her eyes, Hayat – Goddess of Life and Healing, was completely content to observe Denvar’s outburst. While they shared a similarity in Aspects, she never did approve of his brutal methods.

Zalgo twisted his mismatched fingers and looked in Clavin’s direction. He was the God of Calamity and Unbalanced Scales. The divine looked put down by the recent beawick, as it was the ultimate move in his domain.

His huge expectations must have been shattered by its colossal failure at harming anyone but a few roaming spirits and stray animals, which must have been a huge let-down for him.

Unlike Clavin, his nemesis was positively shining with happiness, because the new age was part of her domain. That divine was Nivea, the Goddess of Blessings and Karmic Balance.

It was a victory for her domain, because the new age was inspired by a recent blessing, and would balance out Denvar’s power indeed.

Because unbeknownst to the mortals of the world, the Age of Enlightenment was upon the primary material plane.

Zalgo thought it was a glorious day for a new gamble, and started planning his next move.

Day 2 AoE

It was the first day after the blessing of enlightenment, and Ethan was just waking up, cranky and annoyed by his latest dream.

The aftermath of his brush with Eragoth the previous day and his episode of rage had revealed a big truth to him: he had a problem, and he had to deal with it now.

His excessive usage of suppression drugs had gradually started when he first got transported to this world. In the midst of the huge battle with the Polarii, his AI had administered beta blockers directly into his bloodstream – for the first time ever – to keep him steady and rational.

He’d never had to deal with anxiety on this level before, so it was perhaps a justified decision by his AI in an emergency situation.

Then after that danger passed… well… Ethan had quietly ordered his AI to keep him rational and calm by any means necessary, then tried to forget all about it and push through whatever this was.

Which meant his AI was actively regulating his brain chemistry to keep him from breaking down since he came here.

That decision had the nice side effect of keeping him sane so far. It carried him throughout his life and experiences here, while actively preventing him from panicking and recalling what he left behind; but it was now apparent that this process wasn’t perfect, and could have some serious long term ramifications if he didn’t stop it immediately and deal with his problems like a healthy individual.

Which he was honestly reluctant to do now, but he had to do something before things got too bad and he completely lost it.

So instead of leaving the tent and going about his day like normal, Ethan told the guards outside not to enter or let anyone else through no matter what happened.

He was quite clear about what he meant by that command, too: no entry for anyone, not under any circumstances.

He ignored the incessant notifications from The Wheel about changes to the settlement. He ignored the new settlement stats which should have updated by now. He ignored the temptation of food and the rest of his morning rituals.

He took off all his clothes, threw them and everything else out of the tent, and sat cross legged on the stony ground, naked and shivering from the cold and his fraying nerves.

Then he made up his mind and gave some simple commands to his AI: to stop pumping drugs into his bloodstream, and not to try to mitigate his reaction, and to prevent him from casting spells till he calmed back down.

He knew that the effects would be quick, and would gradually get worse. So he braced himself for what he knew was going to happen next.

Then the shakes started.

Eragoth couldn’t sleep throughout what remained of the night, and now that morning had come around: she still sat, brooding in complete silence.

As an ancient who had survived for a whole millennium, she was supposed to be the epitome of wisdom. She was supposed to act with the weight of knowledge behind her. She was supposed to act rationally.

Well, that last part went double because of her new devotion to Science, which she never hesitated to give once she prayed to the new goddess and was promised a boon that would stop her affliction from irreversibly turning her into a full-blooded dragon.

The goddess had obliged, and her problem was swiftly done away with, so why was she acting irrationally around Ethan West?

Why was she even still staying in settlement and assuming the role of an elder? She should be out exploring the world, hunting monsters and getting stronger, now that gaining new levels no longer threatened to further her previous affliction.

She had a whole life ahead of her. Granted, she would age like a dragonkin and not a human from this point onwards, but it was better than the tortures of immortal life and never ageing a single day, and better than the helplessness of watching her first and only child – and his father – grow old and die around her.

Not to mention her mortification a few centuries later, when she finally overcame her fear of ever trying to start anew, only to find out that she couldn’t have children, because The Wheel punished longevity with infertility.

But those problems were now gone, and for the first time of her very long life, she was free from her most insidious of doubts.

She stood up and started pacing inside the confines of her tent, with a single incessant question plaguing her thoughts: the problem was gone, so why was she holding herself back?

The teachings of her new goddess took over and a simple answer came back to her. One that she refused to acknowledge but could not deny to herself anymore.

She wanted someone to share that new life with, and her choice was already made.

This posed a new problem from her perspective, though: from her senseless actions yesterday, she had pushed too hard and he seemed to hate her now.

He wasn’t ready yet, and her incessant probing was a mistake.

Her newly acquired rational thinking posed the solution of apologising for her oversight and declaring her intentions openly.

If he was interested he’d come around, and if not, then she could move on with her life… or perhaps wait.

Decision made, she stopped pacing, and went to find him and execute her plan.

That was before the wailing started and her new plan was shattered to smithereens.

Badtooth woke up in the early afternoon. He felt exhausted, but felt it was worth it. He really liked his rightful form.

He was a Göblis now, and had slept in his unique tent, as befitting his new station.

His tent was larger than all others, presumably to accommodate his new stature, but he took it as a sign of respect from Ethan West as well.

That respect demanded reciprocation. Because to any self-respecting Göblis, good manners were the foundation of civilised society.

It was proof that Ethan West was a man of propriety, and understood the meaning of his transformation without ever asking. Patriarch West had treated him with the respect due from one monarch who recognised another.

During his metamorphosis, Badtooth had unlocked his own racial memories. He’d learnt about what being a true Göblis meant. He’d witnessed the history and past glory of his race, and also their downfall and the injustice dealt them by the gods, and ultimately: their own arrogance and folly.

What remained of his race was a disgraceful, devolved, and disfigured shadow of who they once were.

The remnants lived like animals in today’s world, just as he himself used to. Widely considered to be vermin by the young sapients of the world, and for good reason too.

Badtooth accepted that. He couldn’t blame the other races for the state of his people, but he resolved to change that status quo.

But to affect change, one had to envision the desired effect and plan accordingly.

Badtooth’s new goal was to ultimately restore the glory of his people. But before making one great and overarching plan, he needed to know his own position, first and foremost.

He decided to break that process down to achievable daily goals and work slowly towards it.

Just as rain was the harbinger of great floods, he’d affect change one small droplet at a time.

His first action on this new, glorious day was to stand up from his sleeping furs and admire his new form.

He was taller than average for a Göblis, and his body was chiseled and in peak condition. That was good.

He looked outside his tent, hoping for a set of clothes.

But no luck with a new outfit, sadly. He’d have to stick to his disgusting old loincloth, or maybe…

He looked at the sleeping furs in the corner and decided to wear them as a cloak for now. He’d look like a barbarian, but it was better than what he had now at least.

Before leaving the tent, he tried asking The Wheel for his new stats, and was instead presented with a written character sheet displayed across his vision. It was in the ancient Göb script, which he remembered from his racial memories with strange familiarity.

He was thankful for that.

He was reading the old notification about him completing the metamorphosis into a Göblis and his upgrade into a [Spell Devourer] from a [Spell Eater], in addition to gaining a second mysterious class with a shiny new title, when he heard the distant wails echoing with a familiar voice.

He dropped everything immediately and dismissed the screen in front of him. He quickly exited the tent and rushed in that direction.

Badtooth let his long strides carry him across the settlement at breakneck speeds, closer and closer towards that sound.

Some things in life were more important than titles and classes, and his newfound honour demanded one thing: that kindness had to be reciprocated in kind.

Memeta’s Chosen sat in a circle, contemplating the events of the previous day and early this morning.

But what took over most of their conversation was that their Goddess was responding to prayers again, and the news of what they had learnt from those prayers: their Goddess was declaring war on her elusive nemesis whose name could not be spoken.

This fact elated most of them. A war on on the cult of secrets meant exposing the truth of all things, by hook or by crook, even by force if necessary.

Except… they were instructed not to take part in it, for now.

They were specifically instructed to remain in this settlement, and to continue to assist Ethan West. They were also instructed to remain completely neutral in this war.

The only person who seemed truly happy about this was Elnora, the [Færie Queen] to a cranky dwarf’s great chagrin.

Elnora had been very silent and raised no complaints about what this new Celestial War meant. Her hatred for violence was a well known fact, yet oddly enough, she made no move to complain or speak against it.

She seemed to be occupied by another thought entirely, so they let her stew in peace.

It was now early in the afternoon, and she was still lost in thought. Nothing they said got a rise out of her.

That was until they heard the anguished wails coming from the direction of Ethan’s tent.

Elnora immediately shot up from her seated position, and rushed in the direction of the sound. They all exchanged glances before rushing to follow and investigate.

Kothar was at a standoff with the guards protecting Ethan’s tent before everyone else arrived.

He’d arrived earlier to check on Ethan when he didn’t join him for breakfast. Only to be denied entry by the guards.

So he’d bided his time and waited.

Then the wails started and he’d tried to go on, but the guards were adamant that their instructions were absolutely clear.

Then people came rushing from all over the settlement, thinking there was an attack.
The recently evolved Göblis was first. Then Eragoth came flying in her dragonkin form. Then Memeta’s Chosen made their appearance, with a distraught [Færie Queen] in the lead.

That entire posse tried to get past the guards, but Kothar found himself confronted by a binary choice: he had to either honour his best friend’s wishes, or go against them

And so he chose the former. Kothar stood facing them and joined the guards in protecting the tent. Despite his wish to know if Ethan had come to harm, he remembered how much he trusted that man, and after all they went through: he found it in himself to trust Ethan with his life – and more – if he had to.

Kothar knew Ethan, and judged him worthy. He had never tried to deceive him, and had placed his trust in him before. He came with him to this settlement without a single guarantee of safety, and despite his initial imprisonment by Eragoth back then, he’d never held it against Kothar.

So Kothar did not hesitate.

The problem, however, was that each of the gathered posse had their own reasons for entering the tent. They tried to argue, and tried to cajole, and when all else failed, some settled to wait while others tried to force their way past Kothar’s vigil.

What came as a surprise was which of them chose what option.

Eragoth sat to the side with the Göblis to wait. While Elnora continued to argue, and finally her frustration overcame her reason and she tried to attack Kothar and the guards to get inside.

Much to the absolute shock of her companions.

She came at them, and not with tooth and claw. No, it was much worse.

It was going to be a difficult fight, in hindsight. Because while most Fæy creatures were pacifists in nature, fighting them using brute strength was a losing proposition.

The galaxy of stars around her eyes shimmered and shone with a golden ethereal fire, and just from one look, her area of attack ability activated, and the two guards behind Kothar dropped to the ground, reduced to drooling like baby children.

But Kothar was made of sterner stuff. His new status as a [Champion] of Science had its own benefits, he supposed. He stoically withstood her mental assault, with no outward sign of distress.

His complete disregard of the full onslaught of her mental attack shocked her greatly, because she suddenly realised that her biggest major advantage was meaningless against him. She backed away in awe, and seemed to realise her mistake when Kothar’s spear shot towards her midsection at a speed too fast for the human eye to track.

He instinctively knew that what she’d just tried to do would have reduced him to a vegetable, with irreversible damages if left untreated, and he decided to return the favour. Not with a lethal thrust, but with a memorable injury to put her in her place and quell her foolishness.

Regicide was never tolerated by the Fæy, which was why he only planned to wound her with his full stopping power.

It was then time for Kothar to receive the shock of his life, when his spear was intercepted by a deft emerald hand.

Kothar would have never thought that there was a living being capable of intercepting [Terminal Velocity] at full strength and speed, and much less from a seated position located a fair distance away.

He reevaluated his assessment of the Göblis’ strength immediately, before the green guy said something unexpected that left him speechless and forced him to reevaluate his intelligence as well.

Badtooth spoke in the clear and precise tones, befitting a wise monarch with a regal bearing, single-handedly freezing everyone in their tracks.

“Is this what you wish Ethan West to see after he is done with his grief?” He looked at both sides of the conflict with slanted eyes full of disdain, “The dead and injured bodies of companions and friends he thought he really knew?”

He extended the spear he’d caught back to Kothar in a non-hostile gesture of goodwill, and Kothar accepted it while looking abashed. The Göblis then moved to check on the two fallen guards, and with a single touch nullified whatever magic was holding their brains captive and making them vegetative. They thankfully stirred.

He turned back to face the [Færie Queen], who looked ashamed and shocked at her behaviour now that she’d had the chance to calm down and review her actions so far. He spoke again with a new and tangible weight to his words.

“Monarch, you have transgressed, for you have wronged these men, and they did you no slight beforehand by following the orders of their liege.” He said while pointing at the two prone guards, who’d begun to open their bleary eyes and recover from their previous state.

She snapped out of her daze and seemed too ashamed to respond. She kept her eyes on the ground and kept her silence.

“You must apologise and ask to make amends to atone for your transgression.” He commanded with a strange surety.

The dwarf snorted at this while writing furiously into his journal, but stopped writing in shock when Elnora followed the Göblis’ advice.

“I wish to apologise for my transgression, and to make amends.” She spoke solemnly in a formal tone.

Kothar helped the two guards up, and they stood there, looking at one another in bewilderment.

“What are your names?” She asked again.

“I am Mantor, but my friends call me Mannie.” The one to the left responded to this question easily.

The other responded as well.

“Duron.” The more hulking of the two said tersely, his anger not gone in the slightest.

“Then allow me to give you a gift as my apology.” Elnora said while approaching the duo. Kothar thought to intercept her again, but decided against it and moved to the side. She’d seemed genuine.

The guards reacted predictably by shying away from her approach, Duron’s hand went to his spear, but Kothar shook his head and he stopped immediately.

“Let her make her peace.” Kothar commanded, and they both stood still in absolute obedience as she approached.

Kothar supposed there were benefits to being a [Champion] after all.

Elnora touched both of the guards in turn, and a shimmering golden fire engulfed them shortly, after which they looked the same, except for the telltale glassy eyes that told Kothar that they were reading a notification from The Wheel.

“She didn’t… Did she, lads?” Felwar asked a question of his companions in a bewildered tone.

Now Kothar was curious, and Badtooth spoke up again.

“I believe that was more than sufficient to make amends to the guards. Thank you.” The Göblis said while smiling an approving smile.

Kothar used one of his new skills for the first time: [Inspect Flock], which only worked on subordinates and followers of the Church of Science, allowing him to assess their wellbeing, and was able to see what was cast.

It appeared that as of now, Mantor and Duron were simultaneously blessed with [Enlightenment] and [Awareness], which he supposed was a great boon for them. He didn’t know what [Awareness] was supposed to do, but could intuit its function from its name and the context in which it was given, and by whom.

It must have cost the [Priestess] of Information greatly, though. Kothar agreed with the assessment of the Göblis, this was a great boon to both guards.

Then the Göblis spoke up, “Aren’t you forgetting somebody else you wronged just now?”

The [Færie Queen] looked abashed while avoiding staring at Kothar, while Kothar himself looked embarrassed by the reminder of what he’d almost done.

She finally looked back at him with a conflicted expression, and he knew what she must be thinking. She was hesitant of making him more powerful than he already was, and he couldn’t fault her for her logic, as a member of another church.

He’d hesitate too, in her position. She closed her eyes and seemed to be praying for guidance.

“By my goddess’ will, I cannot give you the same–” She said apologetically while pointing to the sky, “–but please let me apologise and make amends by giving you something of equal value.” She seemed conflicted about that part.

“No need to make amends.” Kothar responded, “I completely understand, and formally accept your apology and absolve you from any related obligations.” He said simply.

She looked relieved at first, then her face scrunched up in a frown. She advanced towards him with an adamant expression permeating her features.

He tried to back away, but she lunged across the distance and hugged him tightly. He hoped Milandera wasn’t around witnessing this, because having another naked woman hug him this tight was surely going to be a great conversation opener to have with his intended in the near future. He was sure that news of this would spread around and come back to bite him in the ass later, though; so he didn’t dare hope otherwise and braced himself for the confrontation.

But the hug had effects other than reaffirm his virility, as well. As she continued to hug him tight, power began to flow from her and into him. It was an infusion of unsoiled Fæy magic at its purest. Something that no other human had experienced for millennia.

She broke the hug and slumped back in exhaustion.

“That was all… me. I hope you… accept this as an… adequate compensation.” She spoke between shallow inhalations with a barely audible voice.

Kothar tried to object but she shushed him into silence.

“You deserved that. I was wrong in what I did, and I apologise. So, thank you.” She finally appeared to gain her breath, although the golden fire around her eyes had dimmed greatly, before she closed her eyes, and that area of her face returned to the normal display of a serene field of stars.

He didn’t know what she’d exactly done, as there were no notifications from The Wheel; but he supposed it was done with good intentions, and that he’d find out later about whatever had just happened for himself.

Now all of them stood silent, and finally noticed that Ethan’s anguished wails had turned into quiet, heartbreaking sobs that only those close enough could hear.

Kothar dismissed everyone other than himself, the two newly blessed guards, a couple of shamans just in case, and the posse who’d wanted to enter.

They then all took seats around the central bonfire, and settled to wait for Ethan to emerge on his own terms, some quietly exchanging words and some lost to the world in thought.

Ethan’s wails had stopped, yet he sobbed and sobbed.

They were all lost to him, perhaps forever.

His family. His friends.

His fiancée.

She was lost to him now, and he had no way to know if she would be okay without him there to support and comfort her.

Painful, bittersweet memories of their times together assaulted him mercilessly. He was forever lost to her now.

Oh Adiah, please forgive me. He lamented as his regret intensified, “I never meant those things.” He whispered quietly, remembering their last conversation that morning before he went to work.

He would never help her stand against her father’s narcissistic tyranny, and his obsession over controlling her life again.

She’d revert to being the lonely, traumatised daughter of her dad. His plaything to shape according to his own twisted vision and his delusions of a perfect daughter that obeyed his every whim.

Or maybe she’d find her mother? But what were the chances of that? Her mother had left on the first generation ship available en route to Alpha Centauri after she divorced that toxic man.

He couldn’t fault her mother for leaving, but he did fault her for abandoning her wonderful daughter to her fate of suffering at the hands of that disgusting maniac. He resented her for putting her daughter through that. For letting her be raised by a narcissist that only ever cared for himself, his deluded self image, and selfish desires.

He remembered when they’d first met in university. Ethan was being a super-geek, as usual, in the cafeteria toying with a little drone he’d built from old parts.

The drone had gone out of control while flying and crashed into her. But instead of getting angry, she got excited by the way the drone folded into a ball before the crash as part of its built-in safety routine.

Ethan would never forget her innocent look of absolute joy at that moment, and how she grilled him on the folding mechanism. She was so genuinely interested and he couldn’t help but satisfy her boundless curiosity.

He laughed amidst the tears as he remembered how she insisted he take it all apart for her to see the inner workings, and how she chided him for not using an inertial stabilizer and opting to code that part himself as part of the firmware.

She’d later looked at that part of the code and expressed her admiration for his tech savvy.

They’d also laughed themselves to tears back then, when they found out the reason for the crash. Ethan had wired the starboard and port thrusters in reverse. His drone was working correctly, just going in the reverse direction of where he wanted it to go.

So Ethan had told her jokingly that this was how fate had planned for them to meet. She called him a delusional fool for believing in fate; but her cheeks had instantly flushed red, and that gave him the confidence and the courage to ask her out.

That was the story of their first meeting, and how they came to be inseparable later in life.

Oh, how he missed her.

The memory triggered something new in him, though. A strong resolve to go back and see their story to its conclusion.

It was perhaps a hopeless dream. But every impossible feat in history started with a hopeless dream.

His tears finally stopped, and his sobbing ceased. His resolve hardened into a near-physical thing inside of his chest.

To make that dream a reality…

He stood up, and exited the tent naked as the day he was born.

It was time to take the kiddy gloves off.

A different Ethan exited the tent, and all those gathered could see it for themselves.

No one paid attention to his state of undress, for all eyes were on the crystal sharp sapphires shining with determination he now had in his face in place of his usually placid eyes.

He moved with purpose to the nearby pile of stacked belonging, and only put on his clothes and grabbed his pack.

He didn’t respond to anyone who tried to ask him for explanations. He went directly to his workshop while ignoring all prompts, and sealed himself in.

Before going in, he gave quick and terse commands to Kothar for things he wanted done in his absence, and commanded guards placed on the workshop’s entrance for a week with no one allowed in, except to bring him food and water.

That was the last anyone saw of him for an entire week.

And when he would later emerge…

He would have changed everything… forever. Yet again.

Volume[ 0 ].end();

This concludes the first book of The Magineer.

This marks the ending of the first arc of the story: "Denial". I'll see you again in the next: "Anger", which will be starting soon.

Thank you for sticking around for so long! I hope you enjoyed the story so far, and will continue to enjoy it in the future! Some of you might be worried that this is the end, but it's a new beginning! More to come soon in the next volume!

This first volume will be published soon, after some rigorous rewriting of the early chapters to bring them up to standard! It will be a longish book, with an estimated baseline of 650 pages in print, based on word count alone.

Eragoth soared in her dragon form.

It had been a long while since she last felt the freedom – and guilty pleasure – of doing it, but she’d finally taken the plunge and completely transformed at the first sign of the calamity.

The excessive amounts of concentrated ambient mana being released by the Leyline Nexus helped foot the bill of her transformation for some odd reason, and she didn’t need a full circle of shamans channeling mana into her this time.

It was new information, in which she truly revelled.

She’d tried to circle and approach the maddening beawick when she first heard the warhorns, and despite doing her best to fight the madness, she found herself wanting.

Then something strange happened: Ethan West took flight right into the madness, completely nonchalant.

She tried to follow; but again, she could not. It infuriated her. Why could he do these things while everyone else could not? What was so special about him?

It was unfair, really. Even his Goddess was odd, with her outrageous promise… Well, that changed Eragoth’s outlook on life, at least.

She watched him from a distance as he approached the calamity and started releasing insane levels of magic. Eragoth saw him unleash spells with his bare hands whose sheer destructive power brought to her mind memories of the gnomish and dwarven artillery, terrifying secret weapons that were only used by their nations during times of great strife.

When had he learnt such spells, and from where? Did he not admit to a complete lack of magical knowledge when they had first met?

As an elder, Eragoth was aware of certain things, like this Primordial Magic he claimed to have discovered, but this level of power should not have been possible for a Mind Rune user without a significant, well-developed mana pool obtained through constant meditation and high skill levels across the board. Something not attainable at the current low levels of his classes, unless…

It was extremely unlikely, but perhaps possible… and from her experience with this man, the mere possible became inevitable.

Her sensitive eyesight noticed an anomaly and she refocused her thoughts on current events. After legions upon legions of the thralls had died, Ethan’s goal finally became clear.

Why was he doing all of this to protect a goblin? Of all possibilities?

And what was that… blob of energy tethered to him? It seemed to be obeying him and helping the goblin somehow as it… ate the beawick? Was it another new spell?

Eragoth had lived a very long life, so it was always a surprise whenever she encountered a situation that was… new to her. The unexpected proved to her that there was a reason to live and see more.

And this day was full of new, unprecedented things.

She watched the puny goblin eat an unnatural calamity and burp loudly with a sound that shook the heavens.

Then the goblin started shaking, and Ethan backed away quickly with his blob of energy. Was he… talking to his spell? Perhaps it was not a spell at all and she had misjudged the situation…

Rips and tears started appearing all over the goblin’s body, now noticeable from a distance; and it became apparent why Ethan had retreated back to a safe distance so quickly.

The goblin had eaten too much. It was going to blow up, or so it seemed.

For the second time that day, Eragoth sent a desperate prayer to the Goddess.

Then she swooped in and snatched the unconscious body of the creature with her massive claws.

Everything was quiet… perhaps too quiet for the level of noise Adrian was used to in this settlement.

He’d tried to rest in his tent, secure in Giran’s comforting embrace, but sleep eluded him still. He looked back at his status.

Aside from the unwelcome mention of his surname that reminded him of his birthplace, there was a notable difference that baffled him: he’d somehow retained the classes and stats from his strange dream.

Did that mean that the life he’d lived in the dream was also real? Did he really raise those children and grandchildren?

If so, then life was truly cruel.

Adrian closed his eyes, and tried to remember the faces of his now-lost family. He’d lost them forever, and in that moment, tears streaked down his face as he wished he’d truly died at the end of that dream instead of waking up to this cruel revelation.

Giran didn’t comment, for which he was thankful. She just held him tighter as he sobbed softly. It helped.

He hadn’t told her everything about his experiences in the dream, just the broad strokes of how it turned him into a much wiser and older soul.

If he had to be honest, he’d have explained that it was a trial of sorts; and it made him wonder what would have happened had he failed. Would he still be trapped in that endless loop if he hadn’t made a different choice? He truthfully didn’t want to know.

He was at least thankful for that newfound wisdom, which dulled the edge of his pain at losing everyone he knew over a lifetime of fake memories, despite how real they seemed to him.

He finally calmed down with that thought. He opened his eyes and decided to get up. There was no use crying over spilled milk, and this unusual quiet in the settlement unsettled him greatly.

“Wait! Where are you going?” Giran started to hold him down when he tried to get up, and he almost pushed her away out of old habit before deciding to be more gentle.

“Everything is too quiet, don’t you think?” He nudged her with his shoulder, “Where is everyone? There’s no one outside.”

She seemed to consider this for a bit, before she hesitantly moved to stand and extended a hand to help him up.

He found all his belongings in the corner of the tent, and started getting dressed while Giran peeked outside.

“There are no guards outside. Where did they go?” Giran spoke, before her eyes sparkled with an idea, “This is our chance! We can escape while they’re not here!”

Adrian snorted as he fastened his belt, “What about Milandera and Normand? Are they still outside?” He asked.

“No, but they aren’t exactly hostages right now–” she said as she turned to face him, “–and they can handle themselves,” she insisted.

“And neither are we.” Adrian stated.

“What? That insane Patriarch of theirs almost had you killed just a few hours ago!” She protested.

“Because my goal was to kill him. It was a fair reaction, don’t you think?” Adrian countered.

“Yes, but we don’t know what he’s going to do with us now! We should take this chance to make our escape while they’re busy with whatever is going on!”

Adrian sighed and shook his head.

“I’m now an apostate of the Church of Order. Where would I go? I will be hunted like an animal no matter where I try to go.”

“We could go into hiding.” She seemed not convinced.

“For which we already are at the perfect place,” he smiled as he reminded her, “Where else on the continent are followers of Order unwelcome, if not here?” Adrian finished lacing the boots he found near his belongings, those would do until he got his armour and weapons back, “Besides,” he continued, “I would like to speak to that man.” He finally shrugged.

“Fine, you all-wise ass.” Giran gave up and Adrian nodded.

“Then let us go and find out where everyone went.”

“Was that a fucking dragon?” Ethan cursed.

“Ah, yes. That would be my slayer, Eragoth. I’m surprised that she did not attack you.” Talius’ spirit spoke back.

“Wait, you know Eragoth? Wait, that was Eragoth? She’s the one who killed you? And she can go full dragon mode?” Rapid-fire questions quickly formed on Ethan’s lips.

“Curb your enthusiasm. I’m as clueless as you are.” The formless soul seemed to shrug.

“Where do you think she’s taking Badtooth?” Ethan asked curiously as they followed her from a distance. She was moving fast, but Ethan’s flight spell could thankfully keep up.

“I believe that she fears that he will explode, and is attempting to save everyone by moving him away from the Krell settlement at the Krashi volcano.”

Ethan sighed, and tried to call after her again to no avail. So they followed after her.

Thirty or so minutes into her flight, something changed.

Soon, a cocoon of violet, brilliant light exploded forth, surrounding Badtooth. Eragoth seemed to gradually struggle more and more with the weight of her charge as the cocoon began to gradually grow.

Ethan ordered his implant to record the phenomenon in great detail, and zoomed in to view this strange development.

The cocoon grew rapidly, forcing Eragoth to fly lower and closer to the ground. Until it finally fell from her grasp. As soon as it touched the ground with a big thump, it experienced accelerated growth. It soon grew equal in size to the full-sized dragon that was Eragoth, and kept growing even more.

The dragoness seemed to be frozen in shock, entranced by the changes, and did not come out of it until Ethan flew closer and shouted her name.

She took off and flew to the hill Ethan was standing on, and perched next to him to watch the debacle.

“How did you know it was me?” Eragoth asked in an otherworldly voice. Ethan found himself in awe at the ancient-sounding vocals.

“I don’t see any other dragons around, and you’re the only person I know who can partially transform into a dragon.” Ethan elected not to reveal the presence of [Commander] Talius’ soul just yet.

“You knew this would happen.” She stated, raising a claw and pointing at the goblin cocoon.

“Yes, he’s not exploding like you thought. He’s just [metamorphosing] into a new form.” Ethan said distractedly while glancing at the last page of the book, for the benefit of his AI.

“This word, [metamorphosing],” she pronounced the last utterance with difficulty, in Modern Standard English, just as Ethan had said it, “I have never heard anything like it, what does it mean?” She asked.

“He’s transforming into a new form, a permanent new form, or at least I think so.” Ethan explained with his best guess, “some creatures like insects and lizards go through a similar process in their lives.”

“Does that mean that I will [metamorphose] too and become a dragon permanently? Because of my condition?” She gave Ethan a dirty look, as if blaming him for her predicament.

He’d [Analysed] her without her permission, true; but that look was totally uncalled for. Ethan sighed.

“Look, I don’t think whatever you have is a racial or biological trait. It’s just an affliction, and afflictions can be cured,” he began, and saw her maw smiling crookedly, sharp fangs sticking out, “I mean, the blessing today cured my affliction of [Mana Deficit], so it might have cured you too.”

“Use your skill on me.” She said mischievously, although it came out more on the menacing side in her current form.

“I’m sorry, what?” He asked in shock.

“That skill you used before, [Analyse]. Use it on me.”

“Uhh, last time you almost killed me for it.” Ethan was not willing to go through that again, “So I’ll have to politely decline,” especially now that she was in full dragon form.

She hissed in annoyance, and Ethan quickly got the message.

“Fine!” He acquiesced and cast [Analyse] through his sceptre, but got nothing this time too.

He cast it directly and it worked. What he saw left him flabbergasted.

From what he could quickly glean, her first class had been upgraded from [Druid] to [Shapeshifter], and her second had transformed from [Leader] to [Methodical Administrator], which he assumed to be the science-touched version of [Leader].

In addition, her original affliction – a draconian mutation – had turned into a shapeshifting form, which possibly meant that she could learn new forms in the future. An interesting development.

“Scintilla’s work, I presume?” Ethan asked slowly after a long pause.

“Yes.” She confirmed happily.

He congratulated her and she thanked him, in an odd display of civility; she seemed hesitant to speak about something else that must have been bothering her, but there was something else on Ethan’s mind, so he didn’t pay it much attention at the time.

This Scintilla was either too clever or too clueless. He was happy that Eragoth’s plight was over, of course. But if Scintilla went about haphazardly changing people, they would eventually resent her for it.

This was part of the reason why Ethan had instructed the elders to assemble a list of new classes obtained by those devoting themselves to Scintilla. Because it was only a matter of time before someone irreversibly got a class they did not like and had to live with for the rest of their lives.

He feared what would happen then, and how people would blame him – her [Harbinger] – for it. It was bound to happen eventually, statistically speaking that is. Thankfully, Eragoth seemed to like her new condition.

The cocoon was still growing, with no end in sight, and the book wasn’t revealing anything new, so Ethan decided to settle in and watch. He sat down near Eragoth as silence reigned for a while, before he spoke up again.

“You never mentioned how you came to be… afflicted.” He pried carefully.

Eragoth hissed in annoyance, which duly notified him of just how much of a terrible idea it was to pry on this subject. She elected to stay silent.

He was not going to relent and let the matter drop, though. Ethan was quite curious about this part, and didn’t feel as threatened by her act as he used to be. He was about to ask again when she spoke up.

“I will tell you, if you tell me of your life in your old world.” She said quietly in the alien voice of a dragoness.

Ethan’s face darkened at the mention of his old life. He supposed it was a fair arrangement, but he wasn’t really interested in digging up old memories he tried to forcibly block every waking moment.

“Then I’ll have to decline.” He stated simply.

“So, you value your personal history more than you value the history of others. Interesting.” She nonchalantly accused.

He turned away and his face reddened.

“Look, I just don’t want to talk about it. It’s a constant reminder of what I might forever lose, if I can’t find my way back in the future,” he said defensively, “and I don’t like having that weight hanging over me all the time.”

“So you plan to go back, given the chance?”

“Yes. I have unresolved business back home.” He said regretfully.

She nodded her big head with a predatory smile.

“Fair enough, I suppose,” she acquiesced, “but let me guess, a lost lover? A loyal wife? A family or children?”

He looked pissed enough to punch her in the face, but given their size disparity it wouldn’t have accomplished much, in hindsight. Might as well punch the mountainside.

“Okay, you’ve made your point. Can we please speak of something else now?”

“Very well, we will speak of this later.” She clearly noticed how she struck a nerve with her questions, and decided to bide her time.

“Or never.” Ethan counter-offered coldly.

“Or never,” She finally let the matter drop.

“You know this is unhealthy? You should talk to someone about this.” Talius – who’d been content in silently observing all this time – spoke up to Ethan, “not her specifically, but you should.”

Eragoth was none the wiser, though. Apparently, only Ethan could understand spirit talk through their mana tether.

Ethan grit his teeth and stayed silent for a while, then Eragoth shifted her weight a little and asked a question that left him speechless.

“Did you love her?”

Ethan exhaled slowly and turned away from her. He kept his silence as he tried to control his shock and outrage, and the ensuing whirlwind of emotions her words evoked in him.

He got his rage under control and turned to confront her. He tightened his fists and uttered the only two words he felt capable of speaking in response to her question.

“Fuck you.”

After piecing together a very fragmented story they’d managed to extract out of those present, Giran and Adrian stood and waited with their companions. Nobody batted an eyelash at Adrian’s presence, although Normand had kept on teasing him until Milandera kicked him in the shin.

Almost everyone with the ability to see far into the distance agreed on one thing, though: a dragon had flown down and picked up the tiny goblin they’d seen Ethan put into the cage earlier, after it defeated the beawick somehow. Ethan had chased after it.

Now they were forming a party and preparing to pursue, as the sounds of terrible explosions and a raging battle echoed over the horizon. It was unsettling after the relative silence of the past two hours.

Everyone in the know had said that the dragon was one of the Krell elders, but Adrian couldn’t just believe that, despite Giran’s claims of having witnessed her transform into a real dragonkin firsthand.

Even if that were the case, and the dragon was not hostile, then who would they be fighting now? The goblin? And how could a mere goblin pose a threat to a full blooded dragoness and a mysterious, powerful [Wizard] like Ethan West?

The situation made no sense to Adrian’s mind, but it did not have to. He was acutely aware of his own ignorance of the circumstances surrounding this matter, and the only solution he could see to rectify that problem was to personally investigate.

He was also vexed by the fact that he’d missed witnessing the calamity in person. A beawick forming was not an event that typically occurred every day, and what made this one special was the miraculous manner in which it was defeated.

He noticed something else, as well. The Krell bore him no ill will at all, and most seemed to be celebrating their salvation from the beawick without a care in the world.

They were safe for today, and that was all that mattered.

Something in that simple life philosophy appealed to Adrian on another level. The simplicity of living from one day to the next, without having to worry about faith, duty, or what the future might hold. The idea of it was… liberating.

Everyone got ready, and they finally set out towards the distant forest in which a battle was raging between unknowns. The Krell warriors moved in organised ranks that evoked pleasant, but fake memories in Adrian’s mind. Those were vivid memories of battles he’d never fought and armies he’d never led, in battles that never took place; but they felt as real as could be.

Adrian held back tears as Giran took his hand and squeezed.

It took them almost 3 hours to cross that distance in the heavily forested northern slopes, and they arrived as the sun was rising on the horizon. They exited the treeline into a hilly area to witness an intensely strange sight that made Adrian gape.

“You.. fucking… bitch!”

A maddened Ethan West was hurling awe-inspiring spells at the dragoness in a fit of blind rage, whilst the weary dragoness passively hid behind a shining cocoon made of pure violet light that kept absorbing his spell to no end. Adrian thought this cocoon would make an excellent defensive measure against magical attacks, and he wondered what it was made of, and its purpose here.

But looking at the man’s behaviour, Adrian couldn’t help but think: was this what this man was truly capable of? Was this why Eterna wanted him dead?

Adrian decided to withhold his negative impression of the man for now, since he wasn’t aware of what was truly going on. He’d understand first and form impressions later.

A Krell shout was heard, and the two dozen warriors accompanying them took position in two orderly lines. They raised their bows at the ready, and to Adrian’s surprise, they took aim at the dragoness’ hiding place.

The strange Fæy woman tried to rush and stop them, and her companions were about to intercept her when a loud shout sounded and froze them all in place.

“Stop!” A strong voice commanded from the side, and the Krell lowered their bows. The man quickly approached them, as the dragoness peeked from her spot behind the cocoon.

“What do you guys think you’re doing?” Kothar asked tiredly.

“Champion! You are here!” A tall Krell saluted and spoke.

“Yes, I raced ahead of you using one of my skills.” Kothar said, “Why were you going to shoot at her?”

“They are fighting, yes? She is forbidden from challenging the Patriarch for leadership for one year and a day.” The man simply stated.

Ah, the Krell and their weird customs again. Adrian thought wryly.

“They are not fighting. Do you see Eragoth fighting back?” Kothar asked.

“No, but why is the Patriarch attacking her, if they are not fighting a challenge?” The squad leader asked.

“She made a stupid remark,” Kothar stated, “and this is her penance.” He shrugged.

The men nodded knowingly.

“Is anyone going to ask what that thing is, and why it’s absorbing spells like a sponge absorbing wine?” Adrian pointed at the violet cocoon.

“Ah, that would be Badtooth, Ethan’s new goblin friend. He can absorb spells, and he’s the one who ate the beawick from earlier.” Kothar informed them, “The beawick was apparently too much of a meal for him, and he is going through some sort of transformation thanks to it.” He explained calmly, as if all of this made perfect sense.

A dwarf from the Fæy’s company was taking notes furiously in a journal, and Adrian sighed as he noticed his noble insignia. A dwarf royal that fancied himself a historian, was it?

Meanwhile, Ethan finished lobbing spells towards the inert cocoon, and slowly started descending to the ground from his position in the air, looking profoundly tired and completely spent.

If anybody else noticed the ball of energy following him around and vibrating, they did not say; but Adrian’s honed eyes homed in on it immediately. He assumed it was another of his peculiar spells though, and thought to ask about it later.

He had conflicting feelings toward this man. Whilst Adrian was grateful for his intervention and subsequent release from Eterna’s grasp, his fake journey had left him bitter. He also resented the method he’d used to liberate him, which could have backfired for Adrian. It was a calculated risk on his part, Adrian knew; but his willingness to toy with something like this left a bad taste in Adrian’s mouth.

Regardless, Adrian would judge the man anew, from a neutral position. He would not let an old enmity he never wanted in the first place colour his judgement now that he was free of Eterna’s influence.

The Fæy woman started rushing to meet him, but what happened next startled everyone and made them stop in their tracks. As Ethan stopped his influx of spells, it seemed that the cocoon was dissatisfied that its food supply had been cut off.

No longer content about its status, there was a sound like breaking glass, and a crack formed near the top.

Ethan backed away and joined them at a safe distance, whilst the dragoness quickly flew away and landed near the crowd, seemingly chagrined at first, but hissing and brazenly making eye contact in unspoken challenge as soon as she noticed the Fæy woman’s presence.

Adrian couldn’t pay attention to her antics, though. A sound of pounding could be heard within the cocoon, and a giant green fist was soon visible as it broke through the top.

“Badtooth!” Ethan tried to hurry towards the cocoon, forgetting about his earlier caution entirely; but Kothar firmly held him back as a very muscular and green-coloured arm broke its way through the top of the crystalline formation. Gasps were heard as shards of iridescent, violet glass fell to the ground in a shower of fragments.

Everyone watched silently as more and more of the thick crystal fragmented, and something ancient climbed out of its birthplace and inhaled a deep breath of fresh air, perhaps for the first time in untold centuries.

Everyone received a notification telling them that a legendary creature had been born.

Ethan looked on in wonder as he witnessed a miraculous sight.

Badtooth had evolved into something unheard of. A Göblis? That wasn’t standard fantasy fare, was it?

Ethan wondered whether this was the natural next step in a hobgoblin’s evolution, or if Badtooth had managed to leapfrog a couple of stages and directly jump all the way to the top. How many evolutions were there to begin with, anyway?

The evo-devo^[1] must be strong with this race. Too bad Ethan was not a real biologist. Although he had taken a bioinformatics course in the past as part of his foray into programming, he wasn’t by any means an expert on the subject of evolutionary developmental biology. A real biologist would be having a field day with the discovery of the goblin race though, or so Ethan thought.

As for his external phenotype, well… he was quite tall now, approaching two and a half metres, and his appearance was a mix between an extremely muscular human, and a textbook honest-to-god Tolkienian fantasy Elf, with verdant skin that shone like emerald, that is.

Even his face was symmetrical in proportions and aesthetically pleasing now, a stark contrast from his earlier appearance.

The göblis snapped out of his own daze as he finished contemplating his own body. He looked up at Ethan, and smiled brightly.

“Badtooth! You made it!” Ethan waved excitedly. He was feeling better after his catharsis, and the fact that Badtooth was safe after all of this was a huge relief.

The fact that he wasn’t corrupted or turned into a hostile force by the beawick’s foul magic was another source of elation.

“I did, indeed! Hello there, Ethan West. Thank you for your help!” Badtooth responded.

Both seemed shocked at this, because they both soon realised that the göblis had responded in the common tongue, and not the garbled goblin tongue he previously used to speak and nobody other than Ethan understood.

Badtooth seemed to be the most shocked of the pair, though.

Character Sheet^[2]

Karl – God of Potted Plants and Left-footed Sandals – watched in anticipation as a group of Divines gathered to witness the ongoing events currently happening on the primary material plane.

[Error: Undefined Reference] – God of the Secrets and Unspoken, had invited a group of other Divines, and also a recently miffed Denvar – God of Strength and Vitality, to observe the results of his coalition’s most recent collaboration.

In the same way a Divine could cast a Blessing, another could bring about a Calamity to smite their enemies. Whilst the cost was enormous in terms of faith points sacrificed and the effects temporary, the results spoke for themselves.

Denvar was a last-moment addition to this posse, and had personally donated a prodigious amount of faith points – some of the fruits of thousands of years of continued Polarii devotion – to the beawick summoning fund.

Zalgo contemplated how insecure that guy must have felt, if he was willing to go as far as erasing an entire city over a single follower defecting from his faith. He supposed the Divine had absorbed too much Polarii culture and ideals to act any differently from the militaristic race, if it weren’t glaringly evident by his choices in appearance and mannerisms.

Regardless, a beawick had been summoned near the Krashi mountains, and according to its very nature, it would seek out the strongest source of magic in the area, which just so happened to be a powerful nexus of ley-lines that was buried deep beneath the Krashi volcano.

A nexus that had recently been enriched with the mana released from a multitude of high-profile magical events occurring in its vicinity, all in rapid succession. Such as the sprouting of a celestial tree right on top of it, and the fresh death of a divine agent in the settlement above, which fed said tree on that very morning. Not to mention the bestowal of a divine mass-blessing and the formation of a new church, all outstanding events to be sure.

It was admittedly not a very subtle move on the God of Secrets’ behalf, but there was no need to be subtle with execution if your ultimate plan was to kill all witnesses in the area. Because that would prevent the news from propagating and preserve your secrets all the same.

The God of Secrets must have had thought himself clever coming up with this solution, and what ultimately must have swayed him was the presence of a group of the opposing faith – Memeta’s chosen – in the region, and the birth of what he must consider to be a new hostile church. The misguided Divine must have thought that it was a masterful stroke. One that’d end all of his headaches in one go.

The beawick was still quite far away, and the settlement was still outside the effective range of its Halo of Madness.

The view zoomed in on the gathered Krell, and more specifically: Ethan West and the newly appointed [Champion] of Science as they argued over an ancient book, and [Error: Undefined Reference] started snarling when his eyes fell on it. He started sweating profusely when he noticed the followers of his nemesis standing mere feet away in proximity of his most precious artefact.

Ah, so that’s what it was. An interesting development.

How odd for such an inconceivable string of events to conspire and land such a priceless artefact in the hands of Ethan West?

Zalgo snickered silently, and rubbed his huge crimson chin with pleasure. His Symphony of Changes from earlier was starting to manifest its effects and make the probabilities sing to his tune.

The eldest amongst the Gods had their tricks, to be sure, and he was the oldest amongst them all. Despite what Eterna would have you believe.

Because before there was even meaning, Chaos Reigned supreme, and Zalgo was born of The Primordial Force of Chaos: one of the earliest concepts that reality itself had ever come to recognise.

A Divine birthed from a Primordial Force didn’t need followers to survive, unlike the feeble ones backed by a Primal Force. His aspect was given meaning by occurring naturally – in reality – and not through mortal minds attributing meaning to it.

Chaos – specifically – was ingrained as a vital process from which Life had to arise in any given universe.

Not that Zalgo would mind having a bigger flock, of course.

A noise attracted his attention as the gaggle of Divines exclaimed over something they noticed on the holographic projection they were using to watch the show. This method of direct observation was costly in terms of faith points, and thus seldom used; but Denvar was footing that bill this time.

What had attracted their attention was the small goblin raising a dust storm and rushing straight at the beawick. So they finally noticed him, huh?

An argument quickly rose over what that meant. The prevailing opinion was that this goblin was insane.

Zalgo smiled. Every piece was in place, now it was time to let the events unfold.

This little one had promise, and he wished him the best.

The thrill of another gamble in the making excited him. The goblin gambit had just begun.

A legion of souls belonging to the recently deceased in the Krashi mountains shifted and stirred, agitated.

The nexus of ley-lines present in the area that normally kept them all fed and content was withdrawing its influence for the first time in living – or in this case, dead – memory. It was redirecting its power elsewhere for an unknown reason.

The now starving souls – some of which still bound to the vestiges of their spirit thanks to the dense ambient mana sustaining them – gathered in discussion, and the most coherent ones ultimately decided to start heading closer to the nexus to investigate. The rest followed out of habit, and they all headed towards the volcano.

All with the exception of the restless soul of a certain late [Commander], which decided to follow the sound of warhorns in the distance. The sound called to him on a personal level, although he was at a loss as to why.

[Commander] Talius opened his awareness to the comforting sound. His memories were starting to fragment, which had been a worrying fact; but for some reason, the sound of the horns had caused a comforting rush of remembrance which served to reassure his mind.

The wayward soul zipped through the sky at speeds unfathomable to a mere mortal. This spirit form had its advantages. It was perhaps the only aspect he liked about being an unbound soul. He was finally free.

Another thing he liked about being dead was the fact that there were no allegiances. He’d even met souls of late Krell [Warriors] and shamans, and they’d set their differences and animosity aside and actually talked. He daresay he even made some friends.

From what he’d gathered by asking the older veteran souls, it appeared that the higher your levels in life at the point of death, the longer it took for your spirit and soul to completely separate, and since the soul had to separate from the memories completely in order to qualify to move on to wherever souls went after death, he had quite some time left to spend in this state and contemplate his choices in life a million times over.

According to them, the soul wielded the will, and the spirit was the vessel in which memories were stored. This had confused him at first, and he wasn’t quite sure what it meant until a wise and ancient spirit of a Krell [Sage] told him that the soul made the decisions, and as such, his soul dictated the type of person he was.

Even after losing all of its memories, moving on, and being reborn in a new body; a soul would make the same decisions when placed in the same circumstances.

Talius found this concept enlightening, but also terrifying for entirely different reasons.

Perhaps that was the real reason why he went against the prevailing decision to inspect the ley-line nexus with the other spirits.

He knew it wasn’t possible, but he wanted freedom from his predestined fate at any cost. He wanted freedom from his own choices, and to break this cycle somehow.

His first choice would have been to join them in their investigation, which was why he went against his own wishes.

It was a juvenile attempt at rebelling against his own nature, in hindsight. If only because that deviation was also part of his decision-making process, based on him acquiring this new information, but he tried to ignore that fact.

And so he flew ever onwards, towards the captivating sounds of horns.

“Isn’t it made of mana?” Grenda asked her fellow chosen, but the confirmation came from an unexpected source.

“Yes. Beawicks are made out of, and feed on, mana.” Replied Elnora, who had entered a non-responsive state since her return with the message from the Goddess not too long ago.

Grenda’s was worried for her, but her mind was too busy to pay attention to anything other than the facts. She had her confirmation.

As a Gnome, and especially as a professed [Artificer], Grenda possessed a racial analytical ability for finding quick solutions to her problems. Her mind flew through every possible solution, considering every piece of information or fact she’d come across or learnt from her trade. A recent breakthrough broke to the surface, and she thought she’d come upon a worthy solution.

She ran over to Ethan, who was heavily absorbed in a tattered tome he kept paging through, then flipping to the last page and reading it again.

“Ethan!” She prodded him, before raising her voice in an attempt to draw him out of whatever he was trying to do, “Ethan West!”

He finally relented and looked away from the odd book, “What?”

“I have an idea to run by you: if the storm is made of mana, couldn’t you summon a storm made of plastic shards to absorb it from the inside?”

“Won’t work. I’ve already considered that.”

Grenda was surprised. How had he thought of this before her? His race was typically considered slow by the standards of quick-witted gnomes.

Nevermind. He is a potential world-walker, after all. She reminded herself.

She quickly dismissed that line of thought and questioned him on why it wouldn’t work.

His justification made sense, although it was interspersed with words in a foreign language she’d never heard before then.

“I could make large amounts of [microplastic] dust and disperse it through the atmosphere, but the problem with [microplastic] debris is that it becomes–” He seemed to struggle to find the right word, “–poisonous to most beings at the [cellular] level. It can cause [cancer] from [mutations] in living [tissue] through ingestion, and obstruct [alveoli] through inhalation, which would lead to a slow and painful death by [asphyxiation], and that’s just from normal [microplastic] shavings, and not magically charged [microplastic] shavings.” He paused, “I have no idea what ramifications magically charged plastic [free radicals] would do to living beings, to the environment, and to your world at large. It could be the equivalent of salting fertile land with a [radioactive isotope] on a [continental] scale, and there would be no way to control the dispersion pattern.”

Grenda didn’t understand many of the foreign words, but she got the gist of his explanation anyway: it was a bad idea.

“But it could work?” Her personality as a gnomish intellectual demanded validation, and she found his insight into the topic challenging her on another level. She knew it wasn’t the time for such antics, but every gnome had her pride.

“Oh, it would most definitely work, but I’m not shouldering the uncontrolled release of an unknown substance into the environment on my conscience, just for the sake of a quick solution to this problem. Maybe we could try it as a very last resort?” He paused and turned to the last page in his book, then began to read from it, “Oh, hell no. The book agrees that it’s a bad idea too.”

“What’s in that book?” Grenda asked in bewilderment.

“It’s records everything that happens arounds it and predicts the outcome of events in [realtime] as far as I can tell. It’s a weird enchantment, and some components of it seem to be hidden…” He said distractedly, “It was called ‘The Accords of Potentia’ when I tried to [Analyse] it using my skill, but no other information was forthcoming. A shame.”

Grenda released a girly squeak with the breath of air trapped in her chest. She quickly rushed off to find Elnora.

Ethan put the inquisitive gnome out of his mind as he turned back to the book in his hand. It was perhaps unfair for fate to hand him such an item on the eve of such a calamity approaching. He really wished he could study it in peace and quiet.

And the worst part? The worst part was that as he entertained that thought, the book predicted his future actions based on his current line of thought, and detailed the possible outcomes of that chain of events, thus giving him an immediate insight of what that course of action would entail, and the utter doom that awaited them all if he decided to study it now. This triggered a new chain of predictions once he changed his mind based on the old one, and so on and so forth.

Kothar was right to say that this book was a real headache-inducing nightmare.

But it was totally worth it.

He could already imagine the practical applications of such a tool when performing experiments in his workshop, or future lab as the book quickly predicted. It was almost as if…

• Chaos Reign has reached level 5. [+50 XP]

Oh, you sneaky bastard. Ethan thought.

Whoever that God of Chaos was, he must have had a hand in his current situation.

Curious about it, Ethan resolved to study [Chaos Reign], and the book informed him that he’d later discover that this skill ‘encouraged interesting events’ to happen around him, and tipped the odds in his favour slightly whenever possible, and that the skill’s level would increase whenever the odds aligned in his favour.

Which meant that he didn’t even have to do the research by himself in the future.

Cheat-mode Unlocked! He thought excitedly.

• Chaos Reign has reached level 6. [+60 XP]

Holy shit! Had he just achieve a self-sustaining cascade of skill growth, with this book in his hands? Because with it, the odds would automatically tip in his favour, and that’d mean…

He quickly reached a logical conclusion: he would lose this book soon, somehow. The world itself would conspire against him and he’d lose it. It was a given.

There was no way in hell that The Wheel would let him keep it. He resolved to give it hell when it tried to pry it from his possession, although…

He looked down at the page with trepidation to confirm his theory… and found that the book was refusing to make any predictions regarding its own fate.

That was… brilliant! A preemptive measure for paradox prevention? Whoever designed this thing must have been a [Grand Enchanter], or not even mortal. Which was the more likely explanation, because the enchantments on this book – if it even had any – were either very well hidden or radically different from anything else he’d seen so far. It was almost as if…

No time! If I spend any more time contemplating this damn book right now, we’re all going to die. Ethan reprimanded himself, and the book agreed with his conclusion once he resolved to move on and focus on the current calamity.

Will Badtooth succeed in eating the beawick? Ethan thought at the book, and it didn’t react in any way.

Right, he had to resolve himself on acting in some way for the predictions to change. He couldn’t just ask the book about it; which was kind of a shame, in hindsight; as it left the job of figuring out the best possible course of action up to Ethan himself.

He couldn’t just pretend to resolve on performing the action, either. He had to convince himself completely before any predictions would be made. The slightest change in his resolve would make the predictions change again.

The ephemeral nature of the predictions was a big problem, and Ethan theorised that it would be best used through a proxy, where you’d resolve to do something and have the proxy holding the book stop you if the intended action would not be in your favour and stay neutral otherwise. It was the most logical method to try.

It was the perfect fit for an augmented human like himself. He had the ideal tool for the task at his disposal.

AI, I want you to filter out everything written in this book from my senses. Analyse the predicted outcomes, optimise my decisions with small course corrections, and stay passive unless the outcome of my actions is detrimental to me or those around me in any way, or if it does not lead to the ending of the threat. He commanded his implants silently.

<Acknowledged.> His AI responded.

With his spirit bolstered by the confirmation from his AI and the book’s assistance, Ethan raised his sceptre and cast some spells.

He nodded to a worried-looking Kothar, and took off flying in the direction of the magically charged storm.

He paid no mind to the cries of warning issued behind him from those with enough knowledge to realise the fate of any who got too close.

His grip tightened on his sceptre, and he cast [Soul Vision] to protect himself from the madness effects of the beawick, at a prompt from his book-powered AI.

On the way, he cast his mana gathering field spell – for which he still hadn’t found a proper name – for good measure. An overcharge of mana couldn’t hurt in this situation, and his AI hadn’t warned him against it, so it must have improved his odds, all things considered.

His grin widened as he approached the calamity. He just loved the freedom of flight.

[Commander] Talius soared in the sky, and in the distance, he could see the terror that had been unleashed on this place.

A beawick! He’d never thought he’d get the chance to see one in his lifetime, and he hadn’t, truthfully speaking; but it was still an incredible sight to behold.

Its bright violet magical tendrils extended from beyond the horizon, like a twisted octopus reaching from a distance to ensnare its prey. He intuitively realised that he was immune to its madness-inducing effects – in his current unbound form – but also intuited the fact that it would still eat him if he tried to get too close.

The consumption of souls was its speciality, after all.

He felt some perverse satisfaction in the fact that it would get to eat the Krell Matriarch, or in other words: the reason for his current predicament, at least. Too bad it would also consume her soul. Talius would have liked to meet her on equal terms. Then they would converse in spirit form and settle their differences.

As he flew closer to the magical twister, the wind picked up speed and turned to violent gales.

He felt no resistance, as no physical phenomenon could affect his spirit-bound form in any way. A fact for which he was thankful.

As he moved closer to the site, he saw a human flying in its direction. Was this man mad?

A flying human that was headed towards a beawick? An actual flight spell? Glowing eyes? A magical sceptre and a book? Was that a force field spell surrounding him? Why did the field look so odd like that? How was it absorbing all kinds of energy like that?

More importantly: why did he look so different from the Krell? Why didn’t he use incantations like their shamans, and why was there a powerful [Wizard] using Mind Runes amongst them to begin with?

Too many baffling questions ran through his head. Then more even more baffling ones arose as the human moved closer on his position and called out to him.

“Hey, you! Are you a ghost? What are you doing there? That beawick is going to eat you.” The man shouted at a distance, “I’m talking to you, you know.” He added.

He’s calling to me? Wait… can he actually see me? Talius was bewildered.

He tried calling back, but no sound could be made. Right, spirit form… any attempt at communication was going to be a challenge.

But how can he see me? Does he dabble in… Talius started the thought, but didn’t get a chance to finish it.

The man looked down at his book then spoke, “Ah, I see the problem, hang on,” the strange [Wizard] then did something with his sceptre, and a stream of mana was channelled in Talius’ direction, he thought it would pass through him once it hit him, but it didn’t. His spirit body became slightly more tangible, “There, that should fix the problem temporarily.” The man said smugly.

“What the… what did you just do to me, [Wizard]?” Talius asked the man in bewilderment.

“Gave you a bit of a boost, that’s all.” The man said nonchalantly, “I apparently have a comprehensive encyclopedia on soul magic, which I wasn’t putting to full use until now according to our friend here.” He nodded at the tattered tome, “So, what’s a Polarii spirit doing out here? Why are you going closer to that shit storm?” He asked in turn.

“I was… curious.” Talius tried to answer hesitantly, as if unsure if his words would be heard. He also wasn’t sure how to answer that question. He certainly wasn’t contemplating changing his fate by ending it all on a whim, was he?

“Ah, aren’t we all?” The man responded, and Talius flickered in shock at the idea of finally being understood by a living person, “Seriously though, that thing will eat you. I think you’re its favourite kind of meal, actually. It eats souls, you know?”

“I am… aware.” Talius had trouble speaking. So he elected to stay silent.

“What’s your name?” The human asked again, as they moved closer to the storm and their trajectories aligned in the sky.

“My name is… was… Talius. [Commander] Talius of House Armund, of the Polarii Empire.” He stated proudly.

“I suppose there’s no harm in telling a dead Polarii everything, since you can’t normally spread this knowledge to your Empire, and you seem polite and civilised so far…” The man paused before introducing himself, “My name is Ethan West. Patriarch of the Krell and [Harbinger] of Science, at your service.”

Talius’ flight trajectory wobbled slightly at this new information, “Patriarch?” He asked in bewilderment, “But it was their Matriarch who managed to defeat me!”

“Oh, so that was you.” Ethan said, “Yeah, I sort of got lucky and defeated her accidentally.” He answered truthfully.

Talius was curious how powerful this man was if he actually managed to defeat that dragoness, and at his inquisitive look, the man responded.

“It’s a long story, I’d love to tell you all about it later, if we both live through this.” He shrugged, although it was an admittedly difficult action to perform while flying at their current speed, “Speaking of which, why are you still here? Why are you accompanying me into this danger?” Ethan asked curiously.

“I have nothing to lose. The way I see it–” Talius gestured towards the far horizon, “–If there’s a beawick here, then there’s no safe place in the entire world.” He shrugged helplessly, a much easier gesture to perform while flying in his spiritual form, “If I’m going to die to it anyway, I’d rather it now than later.”

The man glanced at his book in contemplation.

“I don’t think we’re going to die today.” Ethan pointed, and Talius looked on, only to see a small goblin running at great speed towards the beawick in the distance. “I think the problem is about to correct itself.” He elaborated.

Talius snorted, “By that vermin? Why is it running towards the beawick?” He looked closer and noticed something anomalous, “…and why is its body swallowing ambient mana like this? This isn’t right!” Talius exclaimed at the odd sight.

“That, right there, is my buddy Badtooth, and I think he’s your world’s salvation against this disaster. Show some respect, man.” Ethan reprimanded.

Talius looked sheepish, but persisted, “That’s a goblin! How can it be anyone’s salvation?” He asked in incredulity.

“Show respect or I’m going to cut off your mana channel.” Ethan was adamant, which Talius supposed was justified if this madman had somehow befriended that goblin.

Talius nodded in acceptance, and Ethan asked a strange question.

“Have you ever heard the idiom: when the unstoppable force meets the immovable object?”

Talius wondered at the meaning behind this odd-sounding phrase, and shook his head in the negative.

Ethan glanced down at his book again. He then pointed at the goblin, which was about to reach the tentative edge of the swirling, magically-charged violence. The beawick’s thralls were visibly charging now, and were coming out to meet the goblin in battle.

Talius wondered why Ethan wasn’t affected by the madness yet. At this distance, he should have become raving mad, as any living being would have.

Ethan started blasting the thralls with spells and spoke with a jovial grin.

“You’re about to witness that idiom I mentioned,” He shouted to the skied, “With a big difference, because this–” He bellowed over the unbearable noise as he blasted large swaths of land with awe-inspiring projectiles that levelled the ground and vaporised the incoming legions of thralls into clouds of nothingness, “–this is when the insatiable hob meets the insurmountable calamity.”

Badtooth ran tirelessly, going faster and faster whilst screaming profanities at the shambling corpses that tried to obstruct his path.

These stinky cadavers were trying to stop him from having his meal, and that would not stand. Finally fed up with their meddling, he lost his patience and punched one of them.

It turned to dust, and he immediately felt the rush of tasty magic entering his body. It invigorated him, and he grinned a toothy grin. He’d found snacks! Moving, beautiful snacks, full of tasty magics!

Things devolved into a confusing melee as he got closer, and a tendril of magic shot out from the stormy skies and tried to snatch him. It quickly evaporated as it came into contact with his body. He felt his skin tearing as his body absorbed an unprecedented amount of a tastiness. He screamed in rapture as his body repaired itself with the excessive supercharge of violent magic.

He felt his bones vibrating, then shattering. The pain was unbearable and shocked him into a near-catatonic state. It felt like his soul was being ripped from his body, but it soon suddenly stopped.

He opened his eyes and looked up, only to see a horned demon spirit touching him.

Why was a horned demon helping him? They hated his people and killed them on sight! And why was it a spirit of all things? Didn’t those always travel to the beyond? He noticed a tendril of mana extended from the horned demon soul, and followed it with his eyes to a flying Ethan West!

His new friend was here to help him! Badtooth was grateful.

He quickly regained his footing and moved towards his stubborn meal, filled with a new determination to consume every delicious morsel of it, and grow stronger.

Elnora Featherwind sat on a rock to watch the unfathomable events unfolding before her from a safe distance.

Elnora knew that it was not befitting her station as a [Færie Queen], or even as a [Priestess] of Information, to sit on a simple rock. She was perfectly aware of that fact. It was not a dignified position; but she also didn’t give a fucking damn.

A very flustered Grenda had been trying to attract her attention earlier, but Elnora was lost to the world in concentration, and when Grenda soon gave up on rousing her and left to speak to the others, the [Færie Queen] was honestly relieved.

She had to commit today’s events to memory, for the sake of all future generations of the Fæy. As events developed, she had to pay close attention to every detail. She had been magnifying her vision – using the natural gift of vision unique to her race – to closely witness history unfold before her eyes.

Now, in the distance, events were mounting to a climax as the goblin reached the edge of the storm. Everyone around her was watching silently from afar, bereft of her gift, they could not tell what was going on, and yet: not a single soul dared to voice a word and disturb this moment.

Then Ethan began unleashing his terrible power on the legions of thralls. The flying avatar of Science himself was battling a world-ending calamity, with a goblin, of all possible brothers in arms. This man had a tendency to land himself in the strangest situations one could imagine. It honestly baffled her.

When Elnora had first met Ethan, it was safe to say she wasn’t very impressed. He seemed like a gullible youth that somehow found himself in a strange situation and tried to make the best of it.

Over time, though, her opinion of him started to drastically change.

It started with him accidentally granting her any Færie’s ultimate wish: the long lost legacy of her entire people, the Færie Fire.

Then he went on to claim leadership of the Krell, and to teach her and her companions new, unfathomable things. Which made her understand her Goddess’ wisdom in sending them here, but now… now this.

He was challenging a planet-eating calamity, and he would not falter or let his convictions sway.

Perhaps it is fair to say that this was the first time she detected a slither of long-forgotten emotions stir.

She felt it, then. The long-repressed emotions rampaging through her heart and mind. She thought of holding them at bay. She thought of burying them under the thousand thick layers of duty she always chose to wrap around herself. She thought of chaining them with the heavy shackles of her obligations to her people, and to her Goddess and faith.

But she chose not to stem the tide. She rode her emotional high. Her racial memories tried to rise to the surface, full of omens and doubts; but she elected to immerse herself in visions of the future, not the past.

Thanks to him, she would get to have a future at all. Maybe with him part of it, or even sharing it? Who knew?

And maybe her children would get to bask in this glorious immortal memory by inheriting her own.

At that thought, she dared to broadcast a hopeful thought to them, to her a future generation yet unborn.

As a dazzling wall of light shimmered and covered the northern skyline from every direction, the vicious gales whipping against her bare skin suddenly ceased. The violet tendrils in the sky waned and withdrew to a focal point she knowingly identified. A lone human flew in the clear skies. Triumphant and proud.

Perhaps her wish for a certain future outcome would come to pass, as did this impossibility on this glorious day.

Badtooth belched a storm.

It was the most satisfied sound in history, in Ethan’s estimation, and it was so loud it almost shattered the sky, and his poor eardrums suffered for it.

Was this his ode of victory? Ethan chuckled at the thought.

He supposed it was partially his victory, too. He’d sent Talius’ spirit to help the hobgoblin when his soul was nearly torn out of his body, thanks to an early suggestion from his AI – or more likely, at the book’s prompting, if he had to be frank.

Apparently, only a soul could ephemerally touch – or in this case: anchor – another soul. The spirit of [Commander] Talius had struggled to hold Badtooth’s soul anchored to his body against the beawick’s pull.

Ethan was grateful for the spirit’s assistance, as he put himself in a great peril to help. Only the fact that Ethan was channeling a ludicrous stream of [Overcharged] mana continuously at him saved him from a similar fate.

Ethan looked at the book in his hand. That damn book was the best thing to happen to him since his arrival here. It had literally saved the day, and Ethan’s fragile ass, which he felt was quite thankful for being saved.

He started to descend to the ground to check on Badtooth’s condition, all the while looking carefully at the last page of his book, which was empty to his eyes; but he placed his complete trust in his AI as a matter of course.

Thanks to his vigilance, he was ready to comply the moment he got an urgent warning against this course of action from his AI.

<Warning: Subject ‘Badtooth’ predicted to be undergoing metamorphosis. Suggested course of action: move away to a safe distance of at least 400 metres.>

Ethan flexed the active mana channel mentally, which caused it to pull on the spirit like a physical leash. It quickly snatched Talius away from the prone hobgoblin. He seemed to be shocked at the unexpected tug, but didn’t raise a fuss over it or feel insulted. He seemed quite intelligent, thankfully.

“I think we had better get back.” Ethan said as they flew away at a fast pace. As far away from the catatonic goblin as they could manage on such short notice.

Now at a safe distance, Ethan turned to observe the diminutive hob carefully, and quickly noticed that his green skin was cracking here and there at an accelerating rate. It reminded him of his own [Overcharged – Chaos] affliction, back before he accidentally grew the Mother of Chaos by channelling all that energy he’d collected whilst preventing the volcano from erupting.

Then goblin blood started seeping from the wounds, and the strangest thing was that the blood was actively boiling before quickly evaporating into a violet, crackling mist.

Wasn’t that the same colour as the beawick’s magical whirlwinds?

Uh oh.

[Character sheet is not available at this time. Please stand-by for a pending update. Don’t blame me! Blame a certain person for forgetting to go to sleep!]

Elnora Featherwind raced on her way down from the mountainous peak where she had made her recent discovery, her thoughts moving at even greater speeds.

As a magical creature, what she’d just seen was a Fæy’s worst nightmare come to pass. She shivered at the incoherent flashes of distant memories and fragmented emotions that tried to assault her. The collective memories of her ancestors were often overwhelming.

Unique to them amongst the races, the Fæy had a collective memory that passed from generation to generation. It was the collected wisdom of their entire race, and the reason they were so respected amongst the enlightened; with the exception of the militaristic Polarii who treasured and dreamed of enslaving Fæy for this very reason.

Regardless, that collective past was now telling her to run. As fast and as far as her feet could carry her.

A beawick was coming: a predatory magical storm that ate all other storms. It would eat anything to grow itself stronger, and the presence of magic was like the scent of blood that drew it closer.

Beawicks ate anything and everything that crossed their path, magical or mundane. They were insatiable twisted phenomena that consumed in order to grow exponentially more savage, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake… and that included the most potent source of magic known to exist: the souls of living beings, which they could rip straight out of their victims, leaving only the dead – and sometimes undead – husks behind.

But that wasn’t what really worried her in this instance, because you could outrun a beawick if it was not specifically targeting you.

What worried her the most was that beawicks were infamous for an entirely different reason: just glancing at one would cause unfathomable madness to seep into the mind of the beholder. A madness that compelled them to come closer, embrace it, and become part of it. If their body was unlucky enough, it would survive, and they would inevitably end up as one of its soulless thralls for all eternity.

The unwary – or uninformed – could fall victim to one just by being curious, or so her racial memories told her.

At that thought, a single sentence spoken by a wise ancestor in a forgotten memory rose to the surface to describe it: “A violently-winding, reality-rending, world-ending nightmare.”

She briefly considered using her Færie ring to escape to the refuge of the Fæon, but it was not in phase just yet, and escaping in this manner would mean leaving her fellow chosen, and everyone else at the settlement, to their fate.

Determined not to let that happen, she uttered yet another prayer to her unresponsive Goddess as she increased her pace.

She wondered why her Goddess was not responding at all.

Memeta had disappeared for a long period of time. She had not answered any of Elnora’s prayers; which was unusual, and quite worrying, considering Elnora was a devout [Priestess] of the Goddess.

She almost tripped in shock when there was a response.

It was dusk on the day of the blessing when Ethan finally finished interviewing the goblin, and they had established rudimentary two-way communication.

‘Badtooth’ was his name, and he was no longer a simple goblin, according to their simple conversation. Apparently, his consumption of massive amounts of plastic – which he deemed as edible food – had fuelled his evolution into a hobgoblin and granted him the class [Spell Eater], which allowed him to consume mana. Ethan suspected that the mana would only fuel Badtooth’s growth, as he was incapable of learning spells as far as they knew.

He’d also told Ethan about his journey, and how he had dug his way into the workshop out of desperation and hunger.

Their conversation concluded, and Memeta’s chosen started moving closer. Ethan had noticed them observing from a distance away, seemingly arguing about something in hushed tones.

As they made their way closer to him and the captive goblin, they gasped in shock when Ethan surprised them by opening the cage and setting his captive free.

“You have nothing to worry about. As per our agreement, Badtooth here will behave.” Ethan looked at the goblin pointedly with his last proclamation. The goblin nodded in affirmation, then spoke something at him in the goblin tongue and smiled.

“He says you have nothing to fear from him. He’ll be good–” Ethan quickly translated whilst shaking his head, “–especially if you give him treats.”

The gnome reached into her pouch and produced a piece of hardtack. Ethan observed the interaction as she timidly approached and handed it to a very happy goblin, who quickly gobbled it down.

“See? Nothing to worry about.” Ethan said as he approached them, with the goblin following him closely, “So, you’ve all been watching for a while, and I’m thankful for your foresight in not interrupting me, but I’m guessing you came as a group for a reason?”

Faisal cleared his throat and spoke up, “Yes, we were hoping you could help us understand what happened with the [Paladin].”

“And the […] ye used ta trick him.” Felwar interjected.

Ethan turned to the dwarf with a serious look, “I’m sorry, can you repeat that sentence?”

“The […] ye used?” Felwar looked confused.

Ethan was silent for a very long time, and when he spoke, he said two words.

“The paradox?”

The look of incomprehension in their eyes made him understand how Badtooth had felt all this time, and revealed a new fact to Ethan.

In this twisted universe… not all concepts were welcome.

He made a swift decision. That night when he went to sleep, he’d have his AI transfer the entire lexicon it had gathered by comparing words to meaning, and he’d no longer rely on The Wheel’s assistance for translation.

For now though, he instructed his AI to disable the translation uplink and started using a much more laborious method of talking, where he had to repeat after the AI and listen to the translation. It would all happen too fast for those around him to notice a big difference, but it was still a lot of work for him.

“Nevermind,” Ethan finally said, “I think The Wheel was refusing to translate for me.” He sighed when they looked at him inquisitively, “I didn’t speak whatever language you guys naturally spoke before now. The Wheel translated everything for me. It broadcast the translation directly into your minds, if my guess is right.”

They looked surprised.

“What?” He asked them, “I thought you already knew that I come from another world.”

They collectively gasped at his last word.

Nadeera gave him an odd look and spoke carefully, “You’re not letting it translate for you right now, correct?”

“Yes.” He responded.

“When you said ‘another world’, just now, you did not mean ‘another plane’, correct?”

Ethan paused.

“No. It was a different–” Ethan paused, ”–reality?” He enunciated after trying and failing to find a synonym for ‘universe’ in his limited lexicon.

“Then this means you are a… world-walker, yes?” Said Solinda in hushed tones.

“What does that even mean?” Ethan asked, “Eragoth almost killed me when she first met me because she thought I was one. What exactly is a world-walker?”

Solinda looked contemplative, before stepping forward and offering him her clawed hand, “I think this conversation should happen in private,” She turned to look at everyone else, and they all nodded, “Let us retire to your workshop to speak.”

He followed her there, as did the rest of the chosen. After hesitating briefly, even Badtooth decided to tag along.

In his tortured dreams, Adrian re-lived his entire life. He did it over and over, allowed only to make a single decision differently every time.

It would start with his first conscious memory, and the event that changed his entire life: the death of his entire family.

He was around 4 years old at the time. It was perhaps cruel to experience something like this at such a young age, but it did not matter to the bandits that raided, pillaged and killed his entire village, and most importantly: it didn’t matter to his own mind, that forced him to relive that memory over and over.

He had to see it all happen from his hiding spot, again and again.

His mother, raped and killed before the eyes of her 4 year old son.

His sisters, dead or dying in pools of their own blood.

His father, crawling to try and save them with his entrails dragging behind him in the loamy soil.

And every single time, young Adrian was forced away by his terror. No matter what he did, the outcome was the same: they all died, and it ended with the same conclusion: he fled in tears, and hid in the surrounding woods.

It then skipped all the time he spent digging up tubers and surviving by eating fruits and insects.

It skipped to his fateful encounter with someone who would later become his mentor and father figure; a [Priest] he’d met travelling the nearby road.

The man took him in, fed and clothed him, and asked for nothing in return. The man never even pressured him to reveal where he came from, or how a child like him became lost in the woods.

When Adrian had grown old enough to speak, and refused to answer those questions, he was left alone.

He grew up learning about the virtues of Order. How if Order prevailed, no injustice would be allowed. How Chaos gave birth to abominable practices. How Chaos was the cause of all injustices in the world.

In his own mind, the injustice done to his family would have never occurred if a [Paladin] of Order was around.

And so, that was what he set out to become. After the old [Priest] delivered him to a monastery, he’d lived there and helped with any tasks that needed doing.

As he grew older, and with the help of a [Monk] who lived at the monastery, he apprenticed himself to a retired [Smith] who was also a retired [Soldier] from days long past. The man had trained him in the arts of smithing, and when he saw him admiring a weapon, he also instructed him in the arts of of the sword.

When he got the [Warrior] class, the first thing he did was pledge himself in the service of Eterna.

It had required him to swear a binding oath, but that was not going to stop him. He’d made his decision to uphold Order a long time ago.

That was actually the turning point in his life. The decision everything else hinged upon.

But every time he made that oath, the dream would restart, and he’d live this torture all over again.

After what seemed like the millionth time, Adrian gave in. He didn’t make the binding oath, and watched something else happen.

He saw his life as it could have been. He saw himself become a master [Smith]. He saw himself pledging to the guild nation he lived in and becoming a [Soldier]. He saw himself through war and strife, upholding what he held dear and protecting the weak. He saw himself saving villages from the same fate his own had succumbed to.

He was later promoted to a [Sergeant], and then to [General]. He saw how order was at the core of every military doctrine, and how that order won or cost him entire battles. How without a military structure, battles devolved into a chaotic melee.

He reflected upon that. He was imposing order in his own way, but chaos in battles could not be avoided. It was the job of every [General] to impose order on their troops.

For once, he saw himself for who he truly was, without an oath binding him to someone else’s will. A man capable of imposing order without a greater cause.

In the end, he retired from the military, and saw himself settle and take a wife. He saw the faces of his children, full of life and energy, as they overcame their own challenges with big smiles. He observed the way his children – and later, grandchildren – acted and played with their peers, and he later watched them disregard his advice and blunder through life, learning new things by trial and error, by repeatedly failing at something until they made it work.

They all had different personalities, and they responded to the same challenges and situations very differently. Sometimes coming up with new and unexpected solutions.

It posed a new question, something that he’d never considered before: wasn’t chaos also a necessary part of life?

Out of habit – and stubbornness – he tried to answer that question in the negative, but then stopped himself. Without the element of chaos inherent to life, everyone would act the same. Everyone would look the same.

He thought on the ultimate application of order, and came up with a new vision of a world where everyone was a [Paladin] of Order that looked the same, acted the same, and crushed anything that dared to be different, or thought differently.

In such a world, his children and grandchildren would be the same person. They would make the same choices, and live the same lives.

The new revelation shocked him out of his slumber, and Adrian opened his eyes.

“From historical records, we don’t know much about world-walkers–” Solinda started explaining to Ethan in hushed tones, she pointed at her head, “–other than that… well… they were well known for thinking very differently from the rest of us.”

Ethan looked contemplative, and she continued, “Whilst they physically looked the same, world-walkers were never naturally born. They simply appeared amongst us at random. They were first seen many millennia ago, suddenly manifesting from thin air like you were purported to be.”

She paused to collect her thoughts.

“You must understand… while they looked the same, they had no knowledge of the cultural norms amongst the races they appeared to be. Their ignorance of our customs made our ancestors suspicious of them.”

He stayed silent, so she elaborated, “The records state that they were immortal and could not be killed. A world-walker that was murdered would simply disappear, then reappear as if no harm was done. Some tried to imprison them for the wrongs they did, but they’d always disappear after a certain period of time had passed, only to be seen again in a place far away.”

Ethan nodded for her to continue.

“They invented and discovered all manners of new things. They created the guilds to distinguish themselves, and those would – later in history – become the guild nations of today. The vacuum they left led to the creation of guild nations on the empty cities they built and claimed as their own. Their disappearance happened almost a thousand years ago.”

“They all disappeared? Just like that?” Ethan asked, gears turning in his mind.

“Yes. It was all very sudden.” Solinda said, “They had access to Spatial Magic, which allowed them to teleport and conquer distant planes.” She shrugged, “Those secrets were buried with their departure, but all historical records assume that they went to visit a different plane or returned to their own.”

Ethan started pacing, and Solinda elaborated a bit more, “You wouldn’t believe it, but they built on an unprecedented scale. They engineered things like [Wizard’s] Towers and citadels, golems and machines. They created new spells and taught the races to use coins, and some of them taught our ancestors new things. We owe them a lot of what we have today. Some of the races worshipped them, and some hated and reviled them for things they did.”

“What made us all surprised about what you said is the fact that you made the same observation. Although they spoke our languages, some of them repeatedly made a reference to ‘translation errors’ whenever they discussed something we didn’t already know, and it was later established that they spoke their own language, and that it was The Wheel that made it possible to understand them at all.”

Ethan stopped his pacing. He was not perturbed by the news, as she expected.

Instead, he recognised a very important pattern here: these mysterious world-walkers she was describing weren’t inter-dimensional god-like beings.

No, what she was describing was the behaviour of players in a Massive Multiplayer Online Game, and by the looks of it, a subset of those players were responsible for displacing the Krell from their own plane.

Furthermore, if they all disappeared around a thousand years ago from this world, then that put their sudden disappearance in the same timeframe that the Krell exodus had happened. Were the two events related, or not?

He contemplated another important fact: Eragoth was slightly older than that – at 1,200 years of age – according to the one time he’d tried to [Analyse] her; which meant that she had lived to witness them, and may remember more accurate information about them.

All of that paled in comparison to the revelation that hit him next, though: he was inside a game! An actual game! No matter how realistic, complex, or elaborate the rules. A game was a game, and a game could be hacked.

No signs of his internal struggles were apparent on his features, and he elected not to reveal this facet of his knowledge – or meta-knowledge in this case – to his audience.

Even if they were ultimately Non-Player Characters to whomever had created this world, they were real to him, as real as he viewed himself.

That last thought gave him pause, however. Was his original world also a game? Was any of it real to begin with?

The possibility that his original universe was simulated had been endlessly debated in the past. In philosophy, fiction and literature, and even scientifically.

Ethan himself had entertained the notion previously, and found it almost a certainty; but a solid confirmation like this… it hit him real hard, and he struggled not to show his emotions visibly.

Ethan excused himself and went to his tent to have a quick dinner before sleep. He had a backup to make, and an entire language to learn whilst he slept.

The goblin reluctantly followed after him, but Ethan paid him no mind.

Kothar sat with Milandera and her brother, Normand, around the campfire. To say this was an awkward reunion would be an understatement.

The man was… odd. He kept making passive-aggressive, underhanded comments after he found out about their budding relationship, and the fact that he indirectly owed his freedom to Kothar’s intervention with Ethan had no sway in dissuading him.

Now, it was time for Kothar to turn the tables on him. He deliberated slowly, before finally speaking a question he knew Milandera forgot to ask.

“So, why was that Nephilim and his cult after you to begin with, Normand?” Kothar interjected in the midst of one of Normand’s underhanded comments, “It must have been something very valuable that you stole, for them to try and kidnap your sister over it.” He delivered the last nail into the fool’s coffin.

Milandera’s eyes sharpened with the mention of her kidnapping, and she turned around to face a very pale Normand who’d stopped speaking and transitioned into incoherent stuttering.

“Well, why don’t you tell us what you stole, then?” She said after a long pause of Normand saying nothing.

“I stole nothing…” He tried to say, but then she slapped him across the face, real hard.

“Talk… now.” She commanded, and Kothar tried not to chuckle at this turn of events. He was seeing a very new side of his partner.

The young man visibly deflated, and started talking in defeated tones.

“Well, when we were in the city last, I came across this hooded man…” He began a strange tale of how he came across the Nephilim, and how he had followed him to a strange cult with a secret hideout, where he’d snuck in and stole a book he'd found hidden under an altar, just because it looked odd and they were careful to hide it, which made him assume it was of great value.

The story ended with how he’d tried to fence it off to his contacts multiple times, with no success so far. He finished by saying how he’d left no trace of himself at the scene, and how dumbfounded he was that they figured out it was him at all.

“They obviously prayed to their god, you idiot!” Milandera exploded at him, “You don’t steal from the followers of a deity, they always have ways to find you if you do!” She seethed.

“Look! It was there and I took it, end of story.” He said, trying the foolish justification of ‘it just happened, live with it’, and was justly rewarded with a harder slap from his furious sister.

“No. More. Stealing.” She got into his face and stated fiercely, “Especially while we’re here. Understood?”

“Fine! Have it your way!” He visibly wilted and shrunk back into himself.

“Where is that book now?” She fixed him with an unstoppable glare.

He gave in and lifted his shirt, then plucked it out of his waist. He handed the tattered-looking tome over to her.

“How did you even hide that when they searched you… wait, don’t answer that. I do not want to know.” She said in disgust.

Milandera opened it to the first page and tried to read, then stopped herself with a palm on her forehead. “This is terrible, just looking at the words gives me a headache.” She pouted, then handed it over to Kothar to try, “Can you read any of it at all?” She asked.

Kothar – now of all days, fortunately literate – tried his hand at reading it. The first couple of pages were in languages he didn’t understand, but they gave him a profound headache all the same.

He flipped it to the last page, and tried to read that instead.

Surprise flooded his features as new words were magically being etched near the end of the page. His eyes widened as he read more and more of what was being written in front of his eyes.

He quickly closed the tome and stood back up, trying to resist the enormous urge to throw up his lunch.

He had to get this to Ethan, now.

Giran gasped in shock as Adrian opened his eyes in her arms.

Finally! He was awake, and surprisingly, not dead.

For that, she was thankful; although she still doubted whether she owed his survival to a divine or not.

She’d been hugging him close, and as she tried to move away from him, she heard him utter a single sentence that would change both of their fates.

“Don’t let go.” He whispered.

That broke the floodgates, and her eyes overflooded with tears.

“You’re alive.” She said breathlessly.

“Yes, and I’m sorry for everything that happened.” He said weakly, “Forgive me, please. I now know what a fool I was.”

“Don’t speak.” She whispered gently, and held him tighter in her embrace.

They stayed that way for a very long time.

Elnora Featherwind was on her last legs, she’d made it most of the distance to the settlement, and was now ahead of the incoming disaster by a large stretch.

The problem was that the beawick did not get tired. It did not rest. If she stopped to rest now, she’d doom them all to an early grave.

She spurred herself faster, she was almost there.

Another Roc tried to descend and snatch her out of the sky. She apologised to nature as she blasted it with a burst of magic.

She hated violence, like most of her kind. Given a chance, she’d talk to the Roc and dissuade it from viewing her as a potential meal. There was no time now, however.

She climbed another obstacle, and came across a Krell patrol.

She breathlessly uttered a single word.

“Beawick!”

Her word shocked them all, and their shaman’s eyes widened.

Then horns started to blow.

Ethan was about to settle down for sleep. The goblin had settled into the corner of his tent after their quick shared meal.

He’d just put his head to the makeshift pillow and closed his eyes when several things started to happen, all at once.

First he heard Kothar calling his name from a distance, and it seemed he was rushing over in a hurry.

Then he heard the horns blow, and bolted awake.

Whatever was going on, he was very glad he hadn’t initiated the backup process yet. Nothing would have been able to rouse him from that state.

He quickly got up and started dressing again.

“Ethan!” Kothar burst into the tent as he finished putting on his pants.

“What’s going on, man?” He asked Kothar with a frown as he finished cinching his pants tightly, “Is it an attack? What are those horns?”

“It’s worse!”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“A beawick is coming!” Kothar said as he rushed him out of the tent.

“What the hell is a beawick?” Ethan asked.

“I don’t exactly know, but I read about it in this book, and it says we’re in grave danger, too.” Kothar said while pointing at a book he was handling carefully.

“What? How would a book know about us or current events?” Ethan asked in bafflement as he slipped his right arm into his shirt.

“I’ll tell you about it later. Now move, we’re about to be eaten by a magical storm!” Kothar bellowed.

“Oh, fuck me.” Was Ethan’s response as he put his head through the shirt and finished dressing.

He’d forgotten his shoes.

Badtooth followed the curious humans, this Ethan West, and the other big one as they rushed away from the tent.

He was about to sleep when the strange loud noises woke him up, and he wondered why they were blowing their warhorns now, of all times.

Was this strange city under attack?

Then he heard the term ‘beawick’, which The Wheel quite literally translated to ‘very bad storm made out of magic’ in his mind.

Then the big human confirmed it for him.

A storm? Made out of magic? For real?

It was the perfect meal.

Badtooth rushed forward in the direction of the warhorns, leaving the unwitting humans far behind.

He bellowed a jubilant warcry as his feet carried him in a northerly direction.

This was going to be the biggest meal of his life.

Aylin Merza stirred from her meditative state to the sound of warhorns.

Were the Polarii launching their offensive on this mountain already?

It was certainly possible that they were.

She rose slowly and exited the tent, following all the hubbub around her on their way to the distant source of the warhorns.

She looked around to see if any guards were following her out of habit, and was pleased to see that there weren’t any. Either this attack was deemed more important, or they had placed a measure of trust in her after she publicly devoted herself to a shared faith.

Either of these options suited her tastes just fine, and in case it was the latter, she’d prove them correct by not trying to flee at the first chance she got.

Speaking of which, they hadn’t fed her the nightly dose of their magic-inhibiting poison yet today, so that was also a good sign. Maybe she could try helping with this attack, if only to make them trust her more? It would certainly be better for her if they started trusting her with magic.

She had no compunctions about attacking her late nation to gain the trust of the Krell. Here she wasn’t bound by stupid Polarii rules, at least. Nobody here would try to put her on trial for dabbling in forbidden magic, especially if she were to be careful, she thought.

More and more Krell rushed around her, carrying weapons and wearing armour. They started marching in a northbound direction, and she followed them out of curiosity.

The Polarii would not be attacking from the north, so who was attacking?

She arrived at the gate to witness that captive goblin from earlier rushing past the guards. They tried to spear it through but the little bugger simply dodged to the side.

What was going on? Was it a goblin attack?

She then noticed Ethan West and his friend Kothar screaming at the guards trying to kill the goblin to stop, which they did. They rushed out of the gate after the small creature, so she followed with haste.

She finally reached a ledge where a crowd had gathered to watch something in the far distance, and she heard murmures she soon recognised.

“Beawick! It’s a beawick!” She heard people whispering. There was a Krell patrol returning with an exhausted [Færie Queen] in tow.

Her eyes widened and she looked at the horizon again. This was a legendary event. The rest of Memeta’s chosen had arrived by this point, and were speaking in hushed tones with Elnora.

“The Goddess said what!?” She heard them utter in passing, but Aylin was too curious to stand still and eavesdrop.

She advanced past them, and towards Ethan West, who was talking to Kothar.

“The book does what!?” She heard him exclaiming in incredulity.

She moved past them too, and looked towards the horizon, and now she could clearly see the magically charged tendrils reaching above the horizon, writhing clearly in the sky. Her eyes confirmed what her ears had refused to believe.

A beawick was coming.

Devourer of worlds.

The eater of civilisations.

Panic quickly rose within her, and her first impulse was to get out of this area and escape; but she also knew something else.

The beawick would stop at nothing to end all life. It would eventually claim her, no matter where she went.

It would eat the entire world, in the end, and it didn’t matter where you ran to. It would come and find you after consuming everything else in its path.

Aylin surrendered to her fate. She’d die a proud woman.

She looked closer, and there was a small projectile creating a dust trail, headed straight towards the beawick.

If you looked – or rather, listened – closely, you’d immediately discern that this was, in fact, a screaming goblin, accelerating at unprecedented speeds towards its own doom.

Today, she’d abandoned her faith, entered a new one, saw the Eye of Eternal Judgement get decimated for the second time in her life, and now there was a Beawick coming to devour her whole world.

And there was a goblin running straight at it.

She closed her eyes. It was a strange day, indeed.

[Character sheet is not available at this time. Please stand-by for a very very huge pending update.]

No chapter this Sunday due to my ongoing job seeking efforts. I do however have something I hope will be entertaining. Wait, I lied. Chapter 37 will be out in a few hours.

Two weeks ago I started a competition between the Patreon donors to invent their own classes, and these were the rules:

Enter an aspect and a specialisation, then describe a unique class that you envision based on both.

Example 1:
Aspect: Science
Specialisation: Healing
Proposed class: [Doctor]

Example 2:
Aspect: Deceit
Specialisation: Healing
Proposed class: [Shapeshifter]

Example 3:
Aspect: War
Specialisation: Healing
Proposed class: [Field Medic]

FAQ:

Q: What exactly is an Aspect?
A: An aspect is an abstract concept that has meaning to the denizens of the world, and has an antonym.

Good examples: Life and Death, Truth and Lies, Strength and Weakness, Joy and Sadness, Warmth and Coldness, etc.
Bad examples: Metal, Grain, Spoon. These words have meaning, but have no antonyms.

Q: What counts as a specialisation?
A: Any productive profession or pursuit a person can dedicate their life to.

Good examples: Conquest, Smithing, Mining, Fishing, Crafting, Magic, etc.
Bad examples: There are none, so go ahead and prove me wrong.

Vote here!

Note: You can select multiple choices.

Today I have the results of the competition, and here are the classes submitted:

Poll Results:

1. [Warmind] by Zero-Cold. (26 votes)
2. [Life Smith] by redaria7. (17 votes)
3. [Town Planner] by Eve. (17 votes)

Full descriptions:

There was a tie between Redria7 and Eve for second place, so I resolved this by considering the time of submission.

I want to thank everyone who participated!

Expect to see viable submissions (even the ones that weren't in the top 3) become part of the story whenever a good opportunity to include them in a meaningful way arises. I won't promise immediate gratification (because I don't want to rush and ruin the plot I have in mind), but they'll now be part of my writer's notes.

Knight Law knelt in stillness, afraid to make the slightest move.

It all started when he’d witnessed an unprecedented event through [Paladin] Adrian’s eyes.

Eterna had also watched. At first, she’d went into a rage when her [Paladin] almost let slip his blasphemous doubts about serving her. Then she convinced herself that the man was surely tainted by the chaotic presence in his current environment. If so, he was a weakling unworthy of her teachings anyway.

Then a magical contract was proposed, and Knight Law had tried to warn her about the impending trap that surely lay within, but Eterna decided to have the [Paladin] accept it. What’s the worst an upstart human like that [Harbinger] could do?

A contract was a device that enforced Order, after all, and she was quite curious why someone so obviously tainted by chaos was suddenly so keen on using something that enforced her Aspect, of all possibilities.

If there was a trick to contracts that she did not know of, she had to find out what it was. Her will unwittingly influenced the [Paladin’s] decision, and he accepted.

Besides, it was just one unfaithful [Paladin]. Not a big loss in the grand scheme of things. The information she could uncover was much more valuable to her cause.

And so the contract was set up. It was seemingly a fair one at first glance. It offered the [Paladin] his freedom without obstructing his mission, in exchange for a simple binary answer. The [Paladin] had taken precautions for the contract not to interfere with his mission, too. Which Eterna thought was a step in the right direction. Perhaps he would redeem himself by killing the [Harbinger] later.

Then the question was posed, and Eterna was speechless.

Knight Law tried to ask her what the seemingly nonsensical question was meant to achieve, but there was no response.

She stood completely still. Motionless and expressionless.

In truth, Knight Law had paid the question itself no mind. He was mostly occupied with observing his liege.

Trying to think of a reason for her odd reaction, he tried to answer the odd question himself, and he froze too. No matter what answer he came up with, the answer would contradict itself. In order to escape the same fate, he had to lie to himself.

He wasn’t proud of that infraction, but it was a necessary one.

His duty came first.

A new truth struck him just then: it seemed that absolute Order was not equipped to answer this kind of question that contradicted itself. This fact astounded him and shook him to the core. To answer this infernal question, one had to veer away from the rules, and blatantly lie to themselves and others – or risk becoming forever stuck in a never-ending logical trap.

It was a question designed specifically to break the logical thought process employed by orderly beings.

And now, the ultimate orderly being: his mistress, had fallen for that clever trap. She had to break her own rules to be free of this fate.

Would she lie to herself like he just did, if only to escape the mental torture? Was she even capable?

Silence reigned as an instance of The Eye descended, and the view switched from the unconscious [Paladin] to the nearest available option: the Eye’s own superior perception. This specific instance was a very strong and battle-ready variant. It was the Smiter variation: specifically designed and properly equipped to annihilate heretics.

Performing his duty, he rushed to man the controls in preparation for combat. He guessed the [Harbinger] would try to interfere with this judgement, but…

But he was distracted by his worries. He kept looking back towards Eterna, who appeared to be stuck with the same glassy look in her eyes.

His distraction and worry for the mistress cost him dearly. It cost him the entire battle.

While he had been distracted, the [Harbinger] had cast a strange effect via spell or skill – Knight Law didn’t know – at the outset of the battle. The effect immobilised the Eye and restricted its movements completely, which nullified the abilities of the Smiter, as it had to get close to its target to be of any use.

This did not prevent it from gathering information, though. A constant stream of notifications flooded his console, as it collected and categorised new information about its environment, and his display was flashing with unprecedented records of new and strange classes: some never before seen in the world, and all of them had to do with Science or Knowledge in some way.

One of those people stepped forward with a wooden spear in hand… How did these primitives know of The Eye’s inherent weakness to piercing weapons made of organic material?

Was this choice of weapon random, or was it based on their observation of the earlier encounter with the Judge variant, the event that started it all?

The fact that organic cells employed both Aspects of Chaos and Order to refine Life should still be an undiscovered secret to them! Unless… they made the correlation somehow, or would make it in the near future.

It was another worrying development.

He made the mistake of looking back to see Eterna’s reaction to this news, and he regretted it immediately when he saw that she was still frozen with the same glassy look. The only exception being her hands, which were starting to shake violently.

But it was a grievous error on his part, because the man with the wooden spear was identified by The Eye as a newly appointed [Champion] of Science, with awe-inspiring skills to match.

Knight Law knew what that meant, as he himself was assaulted by a slew of overwhelming memories with this detail. Long buried memories of a lifetime ago tried to surface, but he managed to suppress them.

Every new deity had the chance to appoint a single [Champion] at the time of their church’s founding. It was a one-of-a-kind opportunity to establish themselves and carve a place in history and help their church grow.

They had to make that decision very carefully, though. It was a special boon that could only happen once in a plane’s entire existence.

A [Champion] was different from a [Harbinger], though. If the [Harbinger] could be said to be the one responsible for breathing life into a novel concept, giving rise to a new Aspect and its opposite in the process; then the [Champion] could be described as the sentinel that embodies and protects the fledgling aspect on their plane of existence.

[Champions] represented the last line of defence for their new faith, and its future potential to grow and prosper, as mandated by the deity that originally bestowed them with the unique class.

Which presented yet another problem: despite its overwhelming combat readiness, this instance of The Eye was not equipped to handle the kind of power a [Champion] could unleash if they went all out. Not even a fledgling [Champion] such as this one.

He felt his helplessness grow as the battle progressed, and only managed to land a single shot of holy energy on the [Harbinger], with no apparent effect. The strange field surrounding him absorbed the power somehow.

All in all, the confrontation ended brutally quickly. With both [Harbinger] and [Champion] arrayed against The Eye, and especially with that infernal tree’s interference… it was a foregone conclusion.

Thus came his current predicament: as the console’s connection to The Eye terminated, he turned, knelt down, and awaited the punishment for his failure.

Nothing happened for a long while, and Knight Law’s worry overrode his fear. He carefully looked up, only to see Eterna still frozen in place.

Was his liege lady… stuck?

What was he to do?

He kept on pondering the situation for an indeterminate length of time, before the despicable Montgomery – God of Indeterministic Chicken Coops and Inverted Latrines – appeared out of thin air, backhanding Eterna across the face while singing “Such a paradox, isn’t it, isn’t it?” in off-key tones, then teleporting away in a puff of mad cackles.

Her stance quickly thawed. He watched as redness spread across her face and she took her first gulp of air in quite a while.

Knight Law immediately made himself scarce, in anticipation of what was soon to follow from that deep inhalation.

Safely tucked away from her impending wrath, he could clearly make out her wail of indignation.

Badtooth woke up to a voice speaking in his head.

After watching the glorious battle of the humans and the stink eye, he’d fallen asleep again.

Apparently, his stomach was having great trouble digesting his most recent meal, which was very strange. Goblins ate anything and everything, and they never faced such problems.

A voice drew him from his ruminations, and spoke– in the Goblin tongue! – telling him that he’d just evolved into a Hob during his sleep, and that he’d received a new class!

He was a [Spell Eater] now, whatever that meant.

When he’d closed his eyes and prayed to the voice for an explanation, it had told him that a [Spell Eater] was a special kind of Hob that could eat magic, like food!

A new source of food! Glorious!

Badtooth was very excited. He couldn’t wait to try eating some magic. Would it taste good? He wondered.

Despite his current state of captivity, he was looking forward to the future.

Speaking of which, he opened his eyes and scrutinised his body, only to feel extremely betrayed.

His body hadn’t grown any larger! In fact, it looked smaller than it did when he went to sleep.

His previously engorged belly had shrunk back down in size as his stomach digested his latest meal.

It was somewhat disappointing; but also not a complete loss, in hindsight. Because he noticed another radical change: he was suddenly able to think much more clearly and deeply. His mind was full of new concepts and ideas, jumping to conclusions and making connections between things he’d never previously considered.

His mental vocabulary had improved too. He was no longer the simple Goblin after a full belly and a safe place to sleep, he reflected. He now had to think in bigger terms.

He had to develop new goals and make plans for the future.

The first step would be to escape captivity, and roam free once more. Then he’d train, eat, grow, and become stronger.

Then he’d go back to his tribe and challenge his brother for leadership, on much better terms this time around.

It was a sound plan, and most importantly: conceivable.

But first… he’d lure that human magician that captured him into casting some spells. He wanted to know the capabilities of his [Spell Eater] class against a strong spell caster.

His class gave him no new skills, though. He remembered his brother getting a skill that made him wield his daggers like a storm when he wished it. So, why hadn’t he received any new skills?

It was quite the mystery.

He was broken away from his thoughts by an angry human voice that he quickly recognised.

“Did you shit in my machine? You little fucker!”

Oops.

“What are ye sayin’ I MISSED? Ye little fenneckin’ gobwick? Say it again! I dare ye!” Felwar Ironvine bellowed as he unleashed the full extent of his incredulity at Nadeera’s statement.

Nadeera didn’t seem perturbed at all. She took to the challenge, despite the warning looks from Solinda.

“What you missed, my dear Felwar, was a historic confrontation between The Eternal Eye of Judgment and none other than the newly-appointed [Champion] of Science and its [Harbinger], where the Eye was utterly defeated–” She gestured with her hands to stave off his reaction a little longer, “–but I have to congratulate you. I mean… all that time you spent hammering away at your little piece of metal must have been completely worth it. You received a new legendary class, and you made yourself a fine weapon, at least.”

She had enjoyed his gobsmacked expression the first time she’d delivered this news, and now she was driving the point home on purpose. She relished his reactions, and the novel Dwarven insults he always came up with on short notice were often pure gold.

The Dwarf’s big eyes narrowed, and he flew into a biblical storm of incoherent insults to her family tree. His spittle flew, and it caused her to giggle uncontrollably, which made it worse.

Luckily for him, he knew better than to try to harm her physically. Beastkin were notorious for their agility and having their deadly claws at the ready.

The maddened Dwarf only relented in his storm of swearing after Faisal appeared and whispered something in his ear.

His eyes widened in realisation, and he accepted a crystal that Faisal gave him in exchange for handing over the weapon he’d spent the entire morning and most of his afternoon working on.

Nadeera recognised the crystalline artifact that Faisal brought to mollify the Dwarf. It was a memory crystal imbued with a spirit, which gave it the ability of recording a memory in great detail, and later projecting it as an illusion directly into the mind on demand. It was usually used as a handy tool in teaching spells, but it was useful in this instance too, she guessed.

It was quite the expensive artefact, though. In hindsight, she wasn’t really surprised that the [Trader] and [Enchanter] had access to such an item. What surprised her was his willingness to readily sacrifice his merchandise in such a manner, since the memory could never be wiped once imprinted on the crystal, and frankly: this battle could have easily had a drastically different, and much more predictable outcome.

The fact that Faisal had the foresight to record the event once he received the local announcement – or perhaps even earlier – pleased her greatly. It was the smart and logical course of action, she supposed; and now their church had the ability to share and document the record of this battle in great detail, for now and the foreseeable future.

Heedless of her thoughts, the Dwarf pressed the crystal against his forehead and concentrated for a moment with his eyes closed. The crystal glowed briefly, then went dim, and Felwar’s expression was pure rapture, compared to his earlier outburst. He handed the crystal back to Faisal, and rushed off to find his journal and record the events using his more mundane methods.

“Have any of you ladies seen lady Elnora? I’ve not seen her since last night.” Faisal asked, whilst inspecting the unique weapon Felwar had handed to him with apparent curiosity.

Grenda responded in the negative, saying that she’d not seen her at all, followed by an affirmation from Solinda alluding to the same.

“I’ve seen her wandering away this morning, she seemed to be headed in that direction.” Nadeera pointed to the north.

“I’m glad she missed today’s violence, at least.” Faisal stated, and they all murmured or nodded in agreement. The [Færie Queen] would not have liked to witness such violence if she could help it at all, or worse, she might have tried to interfere.

“So, shall we discuss the events of today?” Grenda asked, “I mean, what in the abyss was that contract all about?” She looked at Solinda and Nadeera hopefully, “Solinda also laughed wildly when Ethan West asked his nonsensical question. Can you explain what exactly happened?”

Nadeera and Solinda looked at eachother. The [Lawyer] and the [Mathematician] shared an understanding, and communicated something with that single look.

Nadeera finally spoke, “Have you ever come across the concept of a paradox?”

At the lack of understanding in Grenda’s eyes, she began to explain to the bewildered [Artificer].

Faisal paused in his inspection of the weapon and listened attentively as well.

Nadeera explained how a paradox was a theoretical situation in which – if you followed the rules – a correct answer would be impossible. It was all argument for argument’s sake, which had no basis in reality, as far as she could tell. Her study of law had vaguely brushed across the topic, warning against employing them in argument, and the grave consequences for uttering or even thinking of them.

Felwar came back out of the tent halfway through her explanation, and had decided to join in listening to this information. He asked a curious question.

“Why that be, lass? Wha’s so grave about yer silly questions?” Felwar voiced a question they all had on their minds.

“I never found out, but the warning implied that it was a special kind of heresy that always brought down holy wrath.” She shrugged, “I wasn’t quite sure why back then, but Ethan’s confrontation with the [Paladin] of Order has put some things into perspective for me.” Nadeera concluded.

They all looked thoughtful at this. Could it be that Eterna had controlled their cultures from the outset? Manipulating their world from the shadow through her influence and church, so much so that such venues of thought were completely outlawed?

Felwar – the only person present who had not witnessed the event in question – asked for an example of a paradox.

Solinda leapt at the chance to explain it in her own terms, stating the exact paradox Ethan had used to break the [Paladin’s] binding oath, and describing how it incorporated a self-negating variable that would cause it to always contradict itself.

They talked for a while longer, but the available information was limited. In the end, feeling that they were out of their depth, they decided unanimously to go and find Ethan West.

“Stop pretending to be stupid. I know you can understand me, you little bastard!” Ethan glowered at the Goblin in the cage.

Whilst checking his plastic foundry for damage earlier, Ethan had discovered a piece of disturbing news.

He made his discovery while inspecting the input chute. It sat right there, staring right back at him. Impossibly large and twice as ugly. The most revolting piece of news he’d ever come across.

There was a turd in the machine.

His beloved creation had been defiled by Goblin poop.

And so he’d rushed over to confront the creature responsible for this injustice. The Goblin had looked guilty at first, then wisened up quickly. It immediately started acting like an imbecile.

Ethan didn’t buy it, because of two reasons.

The first was its obvious attempt at acting dumber than it really was. This proved to Ethan that the Goblin was more intelligent than it let on, and that it was quite aware of the consequences of shitting on someone’s work. It was a hunch, but it could be supported by the second fact.

The second was the fact that it had done the deed at all. This – by itself – proved that the creature had a modicum of understanding of the principles of causality. It must have scented the manure on the input chute and decided to ‘donate’ a similar material, in hopes of having the machine produce more plastic.

The fact that the machine required an activation key to function was the only external factor it could not foresee, and what ultimately foiled its careful plan: to form a symbiotic, self-sufficient ecosystem with his machine.

A clever plan that would have otherwise succeeded.

His suspicion that it could understand him was initially confirmed with a simple – if admittedly flawed – experiment.

Ethan adopted a look of dread, looking into the distance somewhere the Goblin couldn’t see, and began to back away in the opposite direction.

“Fire! There’s a fire!” Ethan screamed effeminately before bolting away in a faux state of panic.

The Goblin instantly became alert. Its gaze becoming sharp as it started scanning for any signs of the supposed fire. It started scenting the air for smoke and struggled against the bars of the cage, before realisation hit it.

“Ha! Got you now, you bastard!” Ethan appeared from hiding with triumphant sneer. The Goblin looked dejected for a split second, before resuming its act of looking stupid.

“I suppose that’s fair. You could have panicked from my own sudden reaction. It’s not a conclusive method to prove your intelligence,” Ethan raised a hand to his chin, deep in thought.

“Let’s see. How about this?”

Ethan cast [Analyse] on the Goblin. Even if it became hostile to him as a result, it would still be confined, and would not be able to attack him.

What happened was surprising though. The Goblin’s body absorbed the mana he expended, and its eyes rolled back in absolute pleasure.

Before Ethan could exclaim in shock, there was a notification telling him that his [Analyse] skill had been eaten by the [Spell Eater].

A [Spell Eater]? How come I’ve never heard of such a class before?

It sounded cool, though. The kind of broken ability you’d expect to see in an old Japanese animated fiction.

He looked up from the notification to an unsettling sight. There was now a smiling Goblin hugging the bars of the cage and begging for another treat. Its mouth was open in a terrible smile, all fangs and sharp, dirty teeth.

“You liked that, huh?” Ethan commented.

It nodded enthusiastically and made a creepy meowling sound, dropping all previous pretense of stupidity for the sake of another taste of magic.

“You can understand me now, huh?” Ethan said, and it nodded sagely in response.

What the hell is going on with the lucky breaks?

It was a noticeable pattern now: almost like the universe was actively cooperating and helping him along.

He’d first noticed it with his recent successes and inventions, it was especially apparent during his second battle with The Eye, earlier this morning.

Was this the effect of his luck stat increasing, from the time he helped the [Færie Queen] attain her station and received a new title?

It certainly could be the case, and if so: it had certainly made his life easier. He’d try to milk this phenomena to the utmost, then. If The Wheel was actively helping him right now, then who knew if – or when – it would change its mind, and actively hinder him instead.

He focused back on the Goblin, and started subtly interrogating it in a cordial manner.

“Are you a girl?” It shook its head in the negative, “or a boy?” He asked, and the creature nodded in the affirmative.

Ethan nodded back, before asking another question.

“How old are you?”

The Goblin raised seven fingers, and Ethan noted how it – no, he – had six digits per hand, two of which were opposable thumbs. That was quite the odd evolution.

Was this a mutation from the standard mammalian baseline, or something else?

Thinking on it, was that little guy even naturally evolved, to begin with? Ethan should not be making such assumptions about his species, in truth. Because this was another world, with different rules, and they had magic for goodness sake! Magic, which had affected evolution in a myriad of ways, as evident by his cursory brush with Alchemy earlier.

Applying the rules of his old world here was a bad habit, and one he had to avoid if he wanted to make accurate predictions and informed decisions in this world.

He chastitised himself for this oversight, and turned to observe the cage with the odd creature again. The simple hand gesture it had used to communicate its answer had revealed something else of interest: the Goblin understood the concepts of numbers, counting, and at the very least the basics of addition.

Which was why Ethan had asked after his age in the first place.

“What’s your name, boy?” He asked next.

The Goblin made a series of hisses and clicks in response, then shrugged helplessly. Ethan could detect the presence of at least two distinct sounds, which he assumed to be two different words spoken rapidly together. He instructed his AI to begin decoding this new language.

He had the computing power to decode the language, a willing subject, and a way to bribe said subject into absolute compliance.

The task would also become easier with The Wheel unwittingly providing a one-way bridge of understanding between them, or so was Ethan’s assumption for why the Goblin could understand his speech in the first place.

I guess I’m not carving the new condos today. Seems like today will be dedicated to xenoanthropological studies. Ethan grinned.

“I’m going to say some words, and I want you to repeat them after me in the Goblin tongue. If you do well, I’ll reward you with more magic. Do you understand my terms?” Ethan made his offer, and the Goblin nodded with enthusiasm.

It would take some time, but he’d be able to question the Goblin by the end of the day.

Aylin Merza slowly emerged from her deep meditative state.

Meditation was a necessary skill for any magic-based class, as it helped to passively and permanently increase the rate of mana regeneration, and in some advanced cases: the maximum mana pool.

And now, with the help of her newfound blessing of [Enlightenment] and the scientific method, she had finally found out the exact why of it; or at least she suspected she was on the right path to confirm her theory.

For the first time in her life, she felt a state of well-being. She had sought an answer to her questions, and had found a clear path to said answer.

It was all thanks to her new Goddess and the teachings she had given freely.

No, she had to be frank with herself.

It was all thanks to Ethan West, who had brought the concept of Science to her world from his.

A new, rational method to acquire accurate information was now firmly in her grasp, and she would not squander it. She would not squander her only real chance at achieving greatness and forever carving out her place in the halls of legend.

She would stop her childish pursuits and random flights of fancy. She would stop her vain attempts at attaining greatness by blundering her way into knowledge like a damn fool.

She would make her own new knowledge, by hook or by crook, and with a methodical and rational approach.

She would accept the offer of the Goddess, and join the Church of Science as a [Priestess] in her service, spreading her faith to the four corners of the world.

She would follow this [Harbinger] and learn from him what it meant to be a true scientist. She would make any sacrifice, and pay any price required to achieve her ultimate goal.

After inquiring after the whereabouts of Ethan from the Krell guards near his workshop, the group of Memeta's chosen made their way to the prisoner area, where the battle took place earlier in the day.

They wanted to ask him a lot of questions about the battle and the decisions and actions he took preceding it. More importantly: they wanted to know his reason for initiating and engineering such a confrontation in the first place.

As usual when dealing with Ethan West, they arrived to witness a bizarre scene.

Ethan was saying complex phrases, and a Goblin – of all possible beings – was repeating after him in its garbled language.

This drew the group’s interest, for multiple reasons.

The first was that this was the first serious attempt at communication between one of the ‘enlightened races’ and a ‘monster race’, as far as they knew.

The second was that, if this attempt proved successful, they would be amongst the first to converse with a Goblin, and have a chance of learning of Goblin history and culture, if such a thing even existed to begin with.

The third was a deep shame that they – at least some of them – felt at never attempting this before. The thought had never even crossed their minds.

Granted, the Goblin was still confined to a cage, but it didn’t look like it was being coerced in any way. Ethan was calmly reciting words – and the occasional phrase – seemingly at random, and the Goblin was enthusiastically repeating them back in its own harsh language.

Occasionally, Ethan would cast a spell at it for some odd reason, and what was stranger was the lack of any obvious signs of the spells landing after he cast them. Another puzzle.

The group slowly retreated to a safe distance – as to not disturb the man-goblin pair – and launched into a deep discussion on the merits of this new venture.

Atop a northerly peak, the lone [Færie Queen] stood in the cold wind, heedless of the freezing gales lashing against her unclad form.

She carefully observed the distant skies. She’d sensed it coming this morning, but she had to be absolutely sure.

It was slowly, inexplicably, coming closer.

It would be wise to flee. To abandon this place to its fate.

And there was no way to stop it.

A Beawick was headed this way.

[Character sheet is not available at this time. Please stand-by for a big pending update.]

Zalgo – God of Chaos and All Things Fleeting – grasped his spork tightly and started waving it around expertly as he choreographed his next masterpiece.

The out of tune melodies reverberated from the orchestra arrayed before him, and his smile slowly widened as the randomly arranged notes arose into a cacophony of discordant glory, describable only as a crescendo of chaos. A chaoscendo? That’d be an apt choice if he had to define it.

Then the chorus began, and it was sung in a thousand two hundred and eleven tongues. Most were dead to the world, and some were from planes where his influence extended, or absolutely ruled.

Some of those planes he had personally created, some he had conquered, and some he had subtly converted to his cause, in the days before The Wheel.

He paused in surprise, as the beauty of that long forgotten memory brought a single, multi-hued tear to his eye. He wondered what the mortals of olde would have done to obtain such an item in the past.

It had been a long time since he’d last shed a tear so strong and pure. Or maybe it was just 32.4486291231 minutes? He wasn’t quite sure.

He raised his Implement yet again – now in the shape of a writhing vine – and resumed guiding the symphony.

His work was never done.

• Due to your fallacious deceit of a devout follower of Order, which directly led to an oath-breaking, you have been granted two new titles: [Advocate of Chaos], and [Faithbreaker].

• Local Announcement: An agent of divine judgement has descended in your immediate vicinity. If you try to interfere with its mission or hinder it in any way, it will consider you amongst its enemies. Beware the consequences!

Ethan wasn’t really surprised, he’d expected something similar to happen and confirm his original suspicion that The Eternal Eye of Judgement wasn’t really dead. This confirmed that it was an instanced entity, and that a ‘version’ of it would descend every time it was summoned. It made more sense.

What surprised him as he scrutinised this instance of the Eye however, was its stark differences compared to the previous one he’d witnessed. It seemed the variant of the Eye that descended differed depending on the occasion. This was very evident now, because this Eye was at least ten times as large as the one he’d previously fought, and in addition to a seemingly much more formidable body, it looked remarkably more scary.

This one had the same basic shape and general look, scaled up to match its larger size. Yet the most eye-catching feature was the patterns adorning its body, and the feeling of terrible menace it was positively leaking.

Simply put: this was the executioner, not the judge.

Ethan was ready for it, though. It appeared to be much stronger than last time, true; but Ethan was also much more prepared.

His first impulse was to [Analyse] it, and he did – or at least attempted to – only to get an error notification telling him that his target was immune to scrying spells and skills so long as it remained unsubdued. He tried again using the sceptre, but nothing happened at all when the skill was channelled through it, except for the telltale glow as it was cast.

He wondered what that meant, but his mind went to the last notification, it was interesting information.

So, subduing it is a possibility?

He expected it to divert its hostility towards him when he cast [Analyse]. Instead, it remained unaware, or ignored his attempt completely. It remained focused on its original target. Ethan followed its hateful gaze towards a helpless [Paladin] that was still unconscious in his cage.

It was an ironic situation, really. Ethan had been its target while occupying a similar cage not too long ago. He could sympathise with the [Paladin]’s current predicament.

It was all going the way Ethan planned it. Adrian had fallen for his rudimentary psychological trap as expected. A trap which consisted of lulling him into a false sense of security, and putting him at ease with a very casual conversation, then interjecting with a very serious question about his faith and whether he had second thoughts about his binding oath to Eterna.

It was all an effort to find out if the [Paladin] was being mind-controlled or not, which Ethan found himself suspecting once he learnt about the binding oath that prevented the man from ever lying.

When the [Paladin] had almost responded with the truth about his regret for pledging to Eterna, then became flustered, then silent; it was all the confirmation Ethan needed, and another plan was quickly put into action.

The first step of that plan was stealthily accessing the skills store, deliberating on his available choices, and purchasing a specific set of new skills. A just-in-case measure, if his hunch was correct and the Eye descended as a consequence.

The second step was tricking the [Paladin] into a making a promise – or as it happened, a magically-binding contract – that afforded Adrian no leeway from the upcoming trap, in exchange for a promise of freedom, and then using the liar’s paradox to force him to break his oath.

This part was a fifty-fifty gamble if Ethan had to be honest, because it depended on a big assumption to succeed: that the rules governing the oath were as cruel and rigid as Eterna’s apparent snobbiness and arrogance – made evident by her choice of binding her [Paladins] with this brand of mind-control to begin with – seemed to suggest.

If the rules governing the oath were a bit more lenient when it came to judging a paradoxical scenario like the one he’d just fabricated, then this would not have worked at all. Ethan would have had to follow up on his promise and free the [Paladin], only to kill him later in self-defence.

The sole reason he’d chosen to make this gamble was that, with either outcome, Ethan would still learn a new fact about The Wheel and the effects of a binding oath in this magically imbued world. It was a win/win situation when it came to collecting some new intelligence, in his opinion, which suited him just fine.

And if you looked at it from a different perspective, Ethan was still keeping his promise of setting the [Paladin] free. It was just from another form of captivity, and a different captor entirely.

Ethan wasn’t delusional enough to convince himself that it was for “Adrian’s own good” or something equally as stupid. It was not his prerogative to “free” the [Paladin] from the consequences of his own life choices and free will that led to his current predicament.

Ethan especially hated this type of hypocritical reasoning adopted by manipulative people as an argument for forcing their choices and ideals upon those around them.

No, he was simply dealing with a future problem he foresaw: if the [Paladin] and his church were going to come after him no matter what action he took to remedy the situation; then perhaps an unconventional solution was required to deal with this problem at its roots, and an experiment to see what would happen when the biggest variable preventing a peaceful resolution – the binding oath compelling them to follow Eterna’s edict and attempt to kill him – was negated from the equation entirely.

If the [Paladin] persisted on the same course of action after he was freed from his oath, then Ethan would have no compunctions about ending him – and any that would follow the same path – permanently. In a world without laws – a world that only recognised strength and might – it was only fair to fight back for your own life, and in that case he’d make a good example out of him to warn and deter any others that might have the same idea in the future.

If Adrian relented, however… then an entirely new method for dealing with that stupid crusade would come into play. A new weapon against the followers of Order would swiftly and conveniently land into Ethan’s arsenal.

Not to mention that it would set a huge precedent for [Paladins] and [Priests] in service of Eterna, especially when the news of her subjugation of her followers – and how Ethan had the ability to break it – spread.

Especially if those with lingering doubts about their life choices chose to seek his help. That would put a big stain on her name, and drive another nail into the coffin of her faith.

She’d already made the choice to make an enemy out of him. Now she would have to deal with the consequences firsthand. Goddess or not.

Ethan focused back on the scene happening before him, the Eye had finally finished descending from the hole in reality. He was thankful he had his AI recording everything in the highest detail possible ever since he first started implementing his plan, and now had a very high detail recording of the Eye’s spawning process.

He’d analyse all that information later, though.

Holy energies were flowing like a maelstrom from the Eye’s terrible visage, and it was floating closer towards the cage of the unconscious [Paladin]. Its unbearable screeching was getting exponentially louder, and some people were fleeing to a safe distance; whilst others were rushing over to investigate the local announcement.

Ethan shouted a command at the guards, and the cages were soon in the process of being emptied. All captives were being evacuated a safe distance away, except Adrian who remained unconscious in his cage at Ethan’s orders.

The shadow grew and grew, as the Eye descended closer to the ground. Ethan clenched his sceptre and started stepping forward to challenge it, before it reached Adrian’s cage.

But that was the moment when he felt a firm hand on his shoulder, and someone stepped forward to stand by his side.

He glanced to the side with a frown, only to find Kothar staring him in the eye.

“Allow me to help.” That was all Kothar said, stepping forward next to Ethan and taking a similar stance, his spear held at the ready.

Ethan wanted to stop him from taking this unnecessary risk. He wanted to tell him that he was woefully unprepared for the magical attacks of the Eye. That his strength and physical defense would prove insufficient for this challenge.

In truth, he was fearful for his friend’s life.

But that serious look in Kothar’s eye… It made Ethan aware that there was something different about his friend.

Something that had definitely not been there, before now.

It gave him pause.

Heedless of the mortals in its way, the Eye advanced.

If the ensuing battle had to be described in any way, Milandera would not describe it as the epic bloodbath she was dreading. If anything: it was quick, brutal, and ended quite anticlimactically, despite the unsettling events at its outset, when Kothar unexpectedly stepped forward to join the upcoming battle.

She’d hid behind a crate when everything started, and observed the situation as it unfolded. She wasn’t insane enough to challenge a divine agent, even for the sake of her friend’s life; it was suicide.

Although… thinking back now, her deep worry for Kothar’s life – and Adrian’s fate – had caused her heart to thunder and her blood to pump through her veins. Thankfully, before the rush of her excitement and rising dread completely overwhelmed her reason and caused her to do something rash, Ethan began to act.

At the beginning of the battle, Ethan West had started to glow with a strange light as he channelled spells or skills – she wasn’t quite sure of the details – through his strange sceptre.

A strange, semi-translucent sphere surrounded him, and maelstrom of mana rushed around him in a spectacular display. His eyes glowing with a magical blue radiance. Power thrummed off his body in cascading waves.

Following this, he launched into the air towards the Eye. Some sort of energy pulsed out of his sceptre and shot into it, hindering it in its progress entirely, which had the benefit of silencing its incessant screeching, and the intended effect of keeping it frozen in the same spot.

The Eye reacted by shooting a ray of brilliant golden light towards Ethan. It successfully collided with him, and when it hit his body, the strange field around him flared brightly. Cracks of violent blue energy began to appear on his skin as it was torn apart by the overwhelming charge.

Ethan’s scream echoed in the silence that followed, but Milandera was distracted by a familiar roar that she recognised. She turned in surprise to see Kothar surrounded by a different halo. A halo similar to the ones employed by [Paladins].

That had to be of divine origin, but how? When had he received a [Paladin] class? Did he join the new church while she wasn’t paying attention?

She felt somewhat betrayed, but it was possible that this was something else.

The reason for her sense of betrayal at this revelation was what she’d just witnessed with Adrian’s ordeal, and his apparent regret at Eterna’s ways of indoctrination into her service. She was feeling distrustful and wary of [Paladins], [Priests], and of the Gods in general.

She didn’t get the chance to think it over for too long, though.

“[Mass Manipulation]! [Kinetic Charge]!” Kothar hollered.

She felt her heart pause in its beating for two full seconds as she witnessed Kothar’s brutal charge. He fearlessly rushed the Eye. His expression was fierce as he leapt into the air at unimaginable speed. His spear extended as he channelled yet another skill she’d never seen him – or anybody else – use before into his weapon.

Speaking of which, why the hell was he using that wooden training spear to fight something so powerful? It made no sense to her.

At the highest point of his arc, and right before landing his attack, he used yet another skill.

“[Terminal Velocity]!”

His spear was immediately enveloped in a swirling buildup of energy, thicker near the posterior than the tip, before it completely disappeared from his outthrust hand.

A gaping hole appeared in the middle of the Eye’s body, almost at the exact centre of its huge pupil, and golden liquid exploded from the burst iris. It struggled visibly in the air, but was still restrained in place by whatever attack Ethan had first employed.

All was silent as Kothar descended to the ground, and Milandera’s body shook slightly at the ferocity of his brutal performance. She noticed a new light in her peripheral vision, and looked back to Ethan, who appeared to be ignoring his injuries and preparing to channel a different spell and put an end to the battle, or so she thought.

Milandera watched in awe as torrents of mana rushed off Ethan, and unlike her expectations, the Eye was not his target. The unfathomable stream of mana bypassed the Eye completely, and went into the walls of the volcano.

At that point she witnessed something she’d never thought would happen. The crimson vines hanging from the volcanic wall moved with a keening sound. They latched to the stream of mana, absorbing it to empower their movement somehow. After a few moments, and with a look of intense concentration crossing Ethan’s face, they shot towards the immobile Eye.

The vines quickly wrapped themselves around the eye, and seemed to immediately sense the gaping wound in its huge iris. When the vines reached that area, and finally touched the golden blood, they went into a feeding frenzy, sucking the liquid and swelling in size, then pulsating and shrinking as the liquid was sucked away through them to who-knows-where.

When the vines started digging into the Eye’s body, it tried to take countermeasures and defend itself. A halo of divine fire suddenly sprang into existence around it in a spherical shape, but the vines didn’t seem to mind it at all. They were completely unaffected, gulping the extra energy hungrily.

The golden sheen surrounding the Eye slowly shimmered out of existence. It quickly lost all its power, and its shrivelled husk was all that remained. It was then discarded by the creeping vines, after its lifeforce was completely spent.

Ethan sighed and nodded to Kothar in respect, “Well, that’s one crisis averted… Cool new skills by the way. Scintilla’s work, I presume?”

“New class. Champion of Science.” Kothar nodded happily.

“Congratulations. Although… that’s completely unfair! Why didn’t I get any cool abilities like that from her? I’m her freaking [Harbinger] for goodness sake!” Ethan appeared envious.

“Did you ever ask?” Kothar asked with a knowing smile.

“Well, no. Not really.” Ethan replied dejectedly.

“Then there’s your problem.” Kothar chuckled and patted him on the back.

Ethan sighed, returning the happy smile, “Let’s go check on my victim now.”

They turned to check on Adrian.

Milandera looked between them both in utter disbelief. How crazy did you have to be to banter so jovially after defeating that thing?

She soon discovered the truth behind her observation, and how it apparently applied to an entire nation of unhinged people. As mere moments later, the cheers of the Krell rushing their position in celebration rose to the sky.

Giran sat by Adrian’s side. He was still unconscious, despite having been carried from his cage to a tent that Ethan West had designated for them to use.

It appeared that Ethan did not trust them completely, as he had ordered some guards to watch over them, with instructions to notify him immediately when Adrian’s condition changed or when he woke up.

The multiple healers who had seen to him had said that there was no damage to his body, but that his mind and soul were traumatised, and appeared to be in a state of turmoil that Ethan had simply described as ‘going through shock.’

It was, in hindsight, something to be expected. It was a miracle his condition wasn’t worse after his binding oath was so forcibly broken in such a manner.

These were uncharted waters. It was the first time an indoctrinated follower of Order had had their oath broken in recorded history – as far as she knew, and Giran knew a lot of things. Her Half-Elven ancestry graced her with a much longer lifespan compared to a typical human.

Poor Adrian… She felt responsible somehow. She felt as if her recent breakup with him after their disagreement had somehow directly led to his current state.

She still had feelings for him… she just would never admit them to his face. Although, in his current state… maybe she would set her pride aside for a little while longer, at least whilst he remained unconscious.

When Ethan had tricked him into revealing his real feelings about Eterna like that… It shocked her to the core.

Giran couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe she’d known him for so long and yet never realised how many doubts and deep insecurities he hid, lurking underneath his rigid exterior. He was always so… stoic and firm.

In that moment, she hated Ethan. She felt a deep hatred for the man who had managed to expose her ex-lover for who he truly was, but simultaneously: an equal sense of respect and gratitude for revealing this aspect of her man. So many of Adrian’s past behaviour and mannerisms made sense now.

Then came the terrible guilt for her own past behaviour towards Adrian, and then crushing despair when she realised that the man she loved was forever trapped in Eterna’s clutches.

Her jumble of emotions didn’t make much sense, she knew, but that was the way she felt. Until that madman actually managed to break Adrian’s binding oath with a masterful stroke and set him free from the tyrant goddess’ control.

She feared the worst, then. She feared it was Ethan’s cruel way to make an example out of Adrian by having him killed by his own oath, and expose Eterna’s cruelty in this manner.

But then he went on to surprise her again. Ethan had risked his own life to defend a man who had personally threatened to kill him only moments before, while said [Paladin] lay helpless and unconscious in the confines of a cage.

Kothar had surprised her, too. He’d offered to help his friend freely against an unfathomable foe.

Then they’d both displayed skills – and in Ethan’s case, spells – out of this world. In all of her long life, she’d never witnessed anything like it. What exactly were they?

She shivered slightly when a certain memory flashed back into her mind.

That last scene. She vividly recalled a single image of the vines as they decimated the divine agent of judgement. How they’d sucked it dry and flicked its discarded husk to the ground.

To think she’d foolishly thought to use the same vines as a means to escape before. If only she had known what they were capable of…

She was quite thankful that this scenario had remained just that; a foolish plan that was never actually implemented. Otherwise, she might be dead now.

She thanked her lucky stars and suppressed her shivers, then put a gentle hand to Adrian’s forehead. He was still sweating profusely.

She hoped their good fortune would continue. At least nobody else had died… well, except for poor Jormun, that was her fault.

Her mood soured instantly with the emergence of that memory, and she sat back, deep in thought.

Felwar Ironvine’s mighty hammer struck the Flexibronze with its powerful blows, bending the difficult metal into a specific shape.

It was too hard, darn it all! Why was this so difficult? The damn alloy was supposed to be flexible. It had ‘flex’ in the damn name.

Everytime he struck the metal into shape, it would slowly revert to its previous configuration. He had to shape it quickly, or else his strikes would have no apparent effect in mere moments as it returned to its original state.

An hour of stubborn incessant pounding passed, during which he kept dismissing the annoying notifications that kept on popping up every now and then about his progress in skill levels – or lack thereof. He thought he spotted a weird “local” announcement he’d never seen before, but he wasn’t really paying attention when he dismissed. Nothing would distract him from the task at hand.

Finally fed up with the fruitless task, Felwar grumbled a complaint towards the nearby Krell [Empiric Metallurgist] – whose name was Kani, as Felwar discovered. The man then simply laughed and told him to “think with his thick dwarven noggin’” in what Felwar considered a quite condescending tone.

After a passionate eruption of quality Dwarven insults had passed from the slighted dwarf’s lips – and some rude hand gestures for good measure – the Krell finally relented. He told Felwar to actively channel his raw mana into the metal whilst striking, in order to “tell it” what shape to take. It had to be forged properly like a mana-forged weapon ought to be.

Which was precisely what Felwar was struggling to do now, and the keyword here was ‘struggle’.

Performing such an involved physical task whilst also channeling a stream of mana was simply impossible for him, as it stood. For a non-mage like him, it was quite difficult to control mana normally, and that difficulty was amplified tenfold when it came to channeling mana and simultaneously hammering the piece of metal into a specific shape.

So he was forced to go slowly, with an unbroken state of focus that only a master [Monk] could ever hope to achieve.

It was a challenge, and there was nothing like a challenge to his skills to spur him on.

After many failed attempts, he suddenly had a brilliant moment of inspiration: what if he channelled his mana into the hammer, and not the metal itself?

Wouldn’t the mana from the hammer leak and affect his target metal with every new strike that brought them into contact? Without him having to consciously direct it all the time?

A fleeting moment of introspection passed as he considered this new idea. It could work.

And so he began testing this new method, and his hammer glowed with blinding light and sent sparks as it struck the now-mellow ingot of metal. It turned completely malleable under his masterful strikes.

Each impact of the hammer forced it to take shape, and he felt like a god of thunder as harmless bolts of magical lightning were discharged from the sites of impact. They arced from the metal to his hammer, only to dissipate into the air.

Unbeknownst to the Dwarf, a big crowd had gathered behind him. The workshop and smithy area was full of people now. Smiths, glass-blowers and leather workers stood together and pointed at his back, watching him work in awe.

With the last strike of his hammer, his new item was complete. He put down the hammer in relief and wonder as he lifted the item and inspected his handiwork. He turned around to show it to Kani, but was instead surprised by the commotion behind him.

He glanced at the piling notifications he had been ignoring, and found the most recent one not directly related to the forging process.

It was a local announcement, informing everyone near the settlement of Felwar Ironvine’s accomplishment of re-discovering a long-lost mana-forging technique. It was an ancient technique only once discovered by the legendary smiths of an civilisation long past.

Oh, and his new class upgrade: [Arcane Smith].

Badtooth sat in his cage. It was an interesting day.

He’d got himself captured thanks to his gluttonous and careless behaviour, that was true, but it was an interesting day nonetheless.

Badtooth scratched his butt in deep thought.

Today he’d witnessed the stinkeye get killed, no… get completely wrecked, and by two of the mountain humans, of all possible races.

Granted, the one responsible for his current predicament – and humiliating capture – looked a bit different, but all humans looked the same anyway.

They were a bland race, unlike Goblins who differed in size depending on status, and evolved into glorious, perfect Hobs when they had enough food and time to build up their strength.

Badtooth had dreams of a glorious evolution to call his own. He wanted to become a Hob, too.

After his brother evolved and became chieftain of their tribe, the witless git had felt threatened by Badtooth’s ambitions, and in a cautious move of unprecedented insight, kicked him out of their community.

So Badtooth had had to move away from his tribe’s home. He had kept wandering aimlessly around the mountains.

He’d found new tunnels to explore, and found a lot of useful things discarded by witless fools. Like that strange stick tipped with metal he’d used to dig his way here.

To be frank, the only reason he’d managed to get here was thanks to the treacherous flows of liquid rock restricting his path.

While exploring a dark mineshaft, there had been a leak of the deadly material that drove him to flee in a southerly direction. He’d completely lost his way, and got turned around multiple times. Then he’d found himself trapped at the end of an abandoned shaft, with nothing but his bushcraft bag full of previously discarded treasures he’d collected over the course of his journey, his loincloth, and the digging implement he found thrown carelessly at the dead-end of the tunnel.

So he did what he could; he started digging. It was harder at the outset, but then the hard stone transitioned to loose dirt – some of which he ate to make space. It had been a sign that he was going in the right direction. He continued digging upwards at a slight angle, trying to reach the surface and find an exit.

When he’d struck a – cleary artificial – ceiling made of very hard stone, he’d cursed his luck; but also started working faster. A ceiling like that meant people, and people meant food. He remembered feeling excited after eating nothing but dirt for three days straight.

He’d managed to break the reinforced stone and then he’d carefully popped his head into a dark room. His racial ability of dark vision had allowed him to observe some strange-looking things. There were coiled wires and things he had no name for, but most importantly: he’d discovered food!

A pile of the strange new food was sitting right next to a strange-looking contraption, which he felt was similar to the incomprehensible scrawlings he’d previously seen abandoned in some ruins near his old home. A single look at food after all that time eating dirt – and on a lucky day: insects and worms – had made him drop his things and rush towards it with mindless desire.

He’d went at his new meal with gusto. It hadn’t smelled or tasted bad, and his senses had informed him that it was edible!

It had been his lucky day! Or so he’d thought. The new food wasn’t even rotten! Who’d throw perfectly good food to the ground like this? Only the foolish people of other races, of course!

Suffice to say, he’d gorged himself that day, and when he ran out of food, he’d started sniffing around for more. The problem was: this type of food was scentless. It smelled like nothing at all.

But he’d had to find more. His instincts had told him that this was a new type of food that didn’t spoil or go bad. It would keep for years if stored.

His meandering footsteps had led him towards the strange thingie at the centre of the room. It was sitting right next to the pile of food he’d recently devoured.

Why would it be placed here, right at the centre of a mostly-empty room?

He’d investigated the hole at the bottom, and managed to spot some faint traces of the new food in there.

Could this thingie… make the food? Maybe it’s an altar to the gods that requires a sacrifice to give more food? He’d thought.

He’d then scoffed at that idea. Altars were made of stone and bones, not metal. Beside, there were no hints of blood around it at all, and no smells. Except maybe near the top, where it smelled a little like cow dung.

Wait! Could it be… that this thing was an altar that accepted cow dung, and gave back food?

But he had no access to cow dung.

Would it accept some of the… Goblin-made variety?

He had to try.

Badtooth had climbed into the smelly hole at the top, he’d slid his loincloth to the side, and made a generous ‘offering’.

He’d went back to the hole at the bottom, but there was no change. So he’d kicked the contraption, but nothing happened as a consequence. Except the echoing ringing sound from the hollow thing.

Wait! It is hollow! The thingie is empty inside! He’d made an important discovery!

Maybe he had to climb inside it and see what was going on?

Hesitant to try the hole near the top, thanks to the presence of the earlier ‘offering’ he’d deposited there, he’d finally decided to start with the other opening near the bottom.

He’d crawled into the hole, pouncing on any morsels of food he could detect and devouring them loudly. He just had to get to the bottom of this. He knew it! He’d have more food very soon!

Alas, his budding enthusiasm was his undoing. His sensitive eyes detected light spilling into the room behind him as the door was quietly opened. Shadows danced in the room as someone had peered in.

He’d been discovered! He quickly backed out of the hole.

“Is that a goblin?” A man had uttered in shock, and a gaggle of armed people had rushed through the door, in the wake of his stupid announcement.

In hindsight, if Badtooth had known about the terrifying magical might of this particular human, he would have been less inclined to resist his impending capture.

So he’d fled around the room, trying to reach the hole he’d made into the floor to get here. Unfortunately, his stomach was still digesting all that food he’d devoured at the time, which had made him slow and sluggish compared to his normal, agile self.

There was also the fact that at that time, there were at least 5 guards chasing after him.

Badtooth couldn’t pay much attention to their leader’s actions then, but from the corner of his eye, he’d observed the man thinking deeply, before speaking something that went unheard. Then the man had bellowed a command, and the guards had stopped chasing him.

He’d tried to capitalise on this new development to make his timely escape, but the leader had surprised him again by casting a spell that had made him fly into the air.

This was Badtooth’s first hint at the power this man possessed. Goblins were completely mundane creatures when it came to magic. They had not a shred of mana, and no resistance to magic. Only fully-evolved Hobs ever got the chance to learn how to use spells and skills.

Badtooth had tried to hiss at the man, only to feel himself belch loudly. It had felt as if something had just moved inside him. A strange energy flowed through him… then everything went dark.

Badtooth had fainted, and when he woke up again… he woke up to witness a glorious event.

[Character sheet is not available at this time. Please stand-by for a pending update.]

Kothar stood in place, paralysed by indecision.

First, there were all these new ‘status screens’ grating on his nerves. The phenomena has only started this morning.

For his entire life, he’d never read a single word, and all his communication with The Wheel was through its voice, or what was commonly called “The Voice Of The World”. But now… he woke up this morning to a flashy screen telling him that he’d been bestowed with the ability to read it.

Then the second screen told him that he’d been blessed by the Goddess of Science. It didn’t even explain what this blessing did.

When the elders gathered along with everyone to wait for Ethan and to deliberate on the subject, he’d stood and listened. He’d heard Ethan’s argument, and noted Eragoth’s wolfish smile as she observed the discussion, and when elder Dala asked her question, and Eragoth told her to pray for an answer, he was enamoured with the divine revelation that ensued and the Goddess’ beautiful message.

Then everyone started praying for an answer, and… well, he didn’t want to miss an opportunity to understand something new. His curiosity flared, suddenly eager for an answer like the rest of those before him.

That burning passion for new knowledge was also new, but he didn’t care. So he knelt, and he prayed, and he finally got his answer… and more. He also received a one-of-a-kind offer.

It was the offer of a lifetime, and one he was reluctant to refuse.

Hence the reason of his current predicament, and his indecision.

• You have been offered a new class via divine intervention: [Champion – Science].
• You already possess 2 classes.
• Class change available: [Champion – Science], would you like to exchange an existing class for [Champion – Science]? [Y/N]
23:11:42…
23:11:41…
23:11:40…

A champion of science? What would that entail?

He sighed yet again and put off the decision for later, since he had a full day to decide. First, he would talk to Ethan and ask him about this Goddess, and maybe one of the elders.

This was too important to him, and he refused to make such a decision lightly.

Ethan was walking briskly in the direction of his workshop. He had to slow down for some of the elders to catch up to him. It appeared there was a big disturbance, and odd sounds were coming from there. Once notified by the guards, he decided to leave the crowd and rush over there.

The elders – at least those that were present and weren’t busy tending to elder Dala – didn’t want to let him out of their sight. They decided to tag along and see what kind of other trouble he was going to stir up.

He hadn’t even had a chance to check the flood of notifications he was getting, and there was now a pile of notifications with a shiny 1,687 – and rising – flashing next to it. Apparently the whole settlement was undergoing some sort of transformation, and the social dynamics were evolving before him. It was all happening too fast for him to follow, and the effects were spreading from the crafters that ran off like wildfire… damn it!

They quickly reached the door, and Ethan slowly pushed it open while listening to the ruckus coming from within.

He’d explicitly instructed the tribespeople not to go inside under any circumstances, and warned them about the dangers of messing with his experiments and causing unnecessary explosions.

In hindsight, perhaps that decision wasn’t a particularly smart one. Because now that he could see inside the workshop, the mound of plastic he’d prepared previously had vanished, and there was a monster rummaging inside his machine, and… eating? It was definitely chomping any morsels of plastic it managed to extract with savage glee.

He was at least thankful that the machine was inactive. No real clue what would have happened otherwise.

The sounds paused when the creature noticed the light coming from outside, and it backed out of the machine’s output chute, then cowered away from the illumination in fear.

From the brief flash he saw, and the shape crouched down in the shadows, he thought he could identify it; despite its grotesquely distended belly from eating all that plastic, and its warped features.

“Is that a goblin?” He asked in shock.

His unintentional outburst spelled doom for the unfortunate creature, as a number of the guards following his retenue of elders heard it and rushed inside past him, screaming murder.

“Kill it! Don’t let it escape!”

“How did it get in here?”

His shock didn’t last long. As the guards started surrounding the goblin, Ethan was busy looking around the room, and trying to figure out how the creature got into the workshop in the first place.

A particular spot on the ground looked different, it had a… deeper shadow. Did it tunnel its way in? This made him curious, and that’s when he spotted the crude pickaxe made of stone, laying on the ground near the hole.

It could use tools? He paused as he thought of the ramifications. This fact meant it was a sapient creature, and not entirely a monster like he’d thought and been taught by video games.

In his world, apes had been using tools for a very long time, and while communication with humanity’s fellow primates – and dolphins, amongst other intelligent animals – was possible using cerebral augmentation, it wasn’t common, and experiments of this nature were banned entirely in some regions. Although cerebral implants would have never took off if it weren’t for continued animal testing and simulations.

When he left his world, months ago, there were still ongoing debates on the topic of uplifting their fellow mammals into the ranks of modern civilisation using the advent of technology.

Some argued that it would cause an animal uprising, others argued that it would bolster the workforce and provide much needed partners in the exploration of distant planets.

In fact, his own sister was an activist fully against the subject, and they always had vehement debates on this topic.

A wave of pain flooded his mind as he thought of Jessica, and he turned his thoughts away from the subject quickly as memories he’d strived to suppress for the past months tried to force their way to the surface of his psyche.

He felt a wave of melancholy flood him at the repressed memories of his family, before he regained control and focused on the situation at hand. There’s a goblin about to get killed, right.

The goblin was hissing threateningly and backing away further into the shadows. It whined something in strange, garbled syllables. This confirmed his hunch that it possessed a degree of intelligence. But what made Ethan momentarily shocked was a new discovery: it appeared that the translation “feature” that The Wheel provided – that he thought universal – didn’t work for everyone.

“Wait!” Ethan’s words went unheard as the tribesmen, now intent on killing the slippery creature chased after it in an attempt to drive it into a corner.

“STOP!” His shout gave them pause. Even the goblin paused momentarily, before darting towards the hole in the corner of the workshop.

Ethan cast a variant of his flight spell, but instead of him taking off in flight, it was the goblin who started to levitate off the ground. It hissed and flailed its limbs in an attempt to escape, but couldn’t really do much about the spell without any magical defences.

A pair of personal notifications popped up, separate from the settlement updates that were scrolling by in different part of his HUD.

• You have discovered the spell [Telekinesis] of the magical school of [Manipulation]! For discovering a [Common] spell yourself and without external assistance, you have been awarded a one-time bonus to experience. [+50 XP]
• [Telekinesis] has reached level 1. [+10 XP]

He ignored the new messages as he focused on casting the spell.

Had he tried this manoeuvre against someone with innate mana, it would have failed spectacularly. At least according to knowledge he’d obtained from multiple sources.

In of his first discussions about magic, he’d asked why a [Mage] – with their exquisite control over the elements – couldn’t simply grow new holes in the body of an opponent, or cook them from the inside out.

The answer, according to Aylin – and later confirmed by Faisal – was that mana stopped affecting reality when it was exposed to foreign mana, which was naturally emanated in small amounts by anyone with access to mana in a field around them.

At least that was the prevailing theory. Another less discussed theory was that mana could not penetrate the dense life energy surrounding a living organism without special conditions, such as the casting of a healing spell.

Regardless, empirical evidence suggested that only the physical manifestation of a spell could penetrate that effect, for instance: the physical plasma that made up a [Fireball] spell.

Ethan had wondered why this didn’t apply to soul magic, since the mana from that could still affect the souls of others directly, as was proven by his battle against the much more powerful Nephilim in the recent past.

Which was why he was starting to develop a different theory on the subject: what if Conduit particles could not penetrate living cells due to some reason – perhaps a naturally evolved biological defence – and thus there was nothing for mana to act directly upon?

It was a plausible explanation, although it didn’t explain how The Wheel managed to connect to the nervous systems of – and physically alter – all living beings in the world.

He resolved to ruminate on this issue later, though. Because just then, the goblin’s distended belly jiggled slightly, and it belched loudly. The mana surrounding and acting upon it disappeared completely, as it was absorbed into its maw.

It fell to the ground with a thump.

The plastic in its stomach had absorbed the mana! It was glowing faintly in a bizzare display now, and it seemed a bit distressed by the light show.

“Capture it, and be gentle.” Ethan instructed the guards as they surrounded the prone goblin, which was still flailing its limbs and looking at its glowing belly in confusion.

“What? I need to study it.” He added at their looks of incredulity.

He posted one of the guards next to the hole, and went to inspect the plastic foundry. It wasn’t completely ruined, thankfully. Just some claw and teeth marks on the inside of the output chute, which was apparently licked clean of all traces of plastic. Somewhat relieved, he resolved to smooth the metal later using [Meld], and turned a curious eye to the hole in the ground that the goblin had emerged from.

He wondered where it led. It was too small for a human to fit in and explore, though; and he wasn’t too keen on crawling down a dark tunnel that led to god-knows-where inside a volcano. A guard would do for now, and once he finished his next project, he’d have a veritable army to explore its depths and map it completely.

The guards quickly finished tying the goblin with rope, which someone returned with after procuring it somewhere, and then carried it off towards the cages.

He’d deal with this now. He’d promised Kothar to visit the prisoners today anyway.

He sent a guard to inform Kothar, and went with the rest to visit the area with the prisoners.

Adrian sat in his cage, deep in thought.

He’d witnessed divine favour descend on this place last night, and felt the aftereffects of a mass blessing descending to settle over everyone. He hadn’t mentioned it to his friends, but thought he could detect its effects on them while they slept. He could almost feel it.

As a [Paladin] of Order, it hadn’t touched him, naturally. Since he was already sworn to a different deity: Eterna, but he worried what it meant in relation to his friends, and especially his lover, or ex-lover now… he supposed.

He wasn’t too surprised about the breakup, really. He’d expected it when Giran – His half-elf [Scout] girlfriend, and the reason for their current predicament – went against him and spilled the beans about his affiliations to their Krell captors.

What transpired next was the natural conclusion: things slowly got colder between them. Then they had a falling out, leading to a breakup of the relationship.

She spoke against his Goddess and that would not stand. He was a pious man through and through. The fact that she didn’t follow his beliefs had always grated, and was a touchy subject between them, anyways.

Order must prevail.

It was early afternoon, and now, after disappearing for a while, some of the guards had returned with the telltale holy halos of a [Paladin] that only another [Paladin] could instantly recognise and see.

Had a new church been born? He couldn’t tell what deity they were sworn to, but they’d recognised him in turn. Their tones had changed as they were handing breakfast, now their interactions were coloured by the professional courtesy and mutual respect that only the sworn [Paladins] would afford one another, even amongst those of opposing faiths.

The… savage – and godless – Krell he’d always known, if not outright loathed, had suddenly become the civilised followers of a deity, and that was a transformation that shook him to the core.

Most importantly, and unlike what he’d expected: their auras did not radiate any evil… or any chaos, so far that he could sense.

How had this come to pass?

Was this Ethan West, the target of his Goddess’ ire… some kind of prophet? Was this a direct consequence of his presence here? Was this what Adrian was sent to prevent? The birth of a new church? But why would order go against a new, non-evil, and non-chaotic church?

This baffled him.

He kneeled in his cage, and started praying to Eterna for an answer, but there was no response. Yet again.

After a few minutes, he slowly opened his eyes to a commotion as a group of guards brought a tied goblin with a big belly over and put it in a cage. He turned from the spectacle only to see a man looking at him curiously.

He looked nothing like a Krell, and Adrian could sense the subtle pattern of chaotic ripples emanating from this person, but they were also overpowered by ripples of a different aspect. One that Adrian couldn’t quite identify. Adrian realised – without a hint of doubt – that this was the man he was sent to eliminate: Ethan West.

“Hey man! Were you meditating? That’s really cool!” Ethan said cheerfully.

What a strange person.

Despite his short legs and stature, a certain Dwarven historian raced from place to place all over the Krell settlement excitedly. He talked to people, asking questions, and writing furiously into his journal.

A contemplative Drake [Mathematician] accompanied him out of curiosity.

The birth of a new faith… it is a historical day, indeed! Solinda struggled to restrain her smile.

Most Drakes come from the isolated archipelagos of Ssslath in the far north, and whilst travelling away from their homelands, they usually try to avoid smiling in public. Especially around the other races, since the act exposes their sharp teeth; which usually made strangers uncomfortable. An unfortunate fact.

Thanks to her cheerful personality, Solinda slipped frequently and smiled good-naturedly at people… which didn’t always end well for her.

Other races easily became jittery at the perceived predation in the simple act. Their hands unconsciously went to sword hilts, and conversations usually turned awkward afterwards.

It got so bad that she had once decided to wear a veil around her face, but that only made things worse by making people even more suspicious.

Moving on, she focused on the current conversation. A former smith was telling his story. Starting from waking up today with the sudden ability to read and write, to the divine blessing that made him very inquisitive and able to make connections between concepts he could never make in the past, and finally: his experience praying to Scintilla, after witnessing the jubilation of his fellow craftsmen, and the bestowal of a unique class through divine intervention: [Empiric Metallurgist].

She briefly wondered what would happen to a [Mathematician] who pledged to Scintilla instead of Memeta; but quickly quelled the blasphemous thought. She returned to her observation of Felwar’s conversation with the man.

To be truthful, the man was completely engrossed in refining and testing the properties of a strange stretchy ingot made of a new alloy he’d just discovered and named “Flexibronze”.

It was apparent that he was only speaking to Felwar to get rid of his tireless, incessant questioning; but Felwar Ironvine was nothing but insistent.

Then the discussion turned to the new alloy, and the eyes of both men shone with a shared passion as they discussed material sciences only a Dwarven [High Smith] and [Scholar] could truly understand – or a Krell [Empiric Metallurgist] now, too – she supposed.

Although the man didn’t divulge the exact process of its make, he did mention that it was mana-forged and infused with a measure of slime jelly. Which meant that this variant of bronze had innate magical properties.

Solinda briefly wondered where Grenda was. As an [Artificer] and, more importantly, an industrious Gnome, she’d surely be highly interested in a new, magically imbued material that she could work with. She’d certainly try to secure an exclusive trade deal or outright buy the secrets of this material from this man for her people. The Gnomes would pay a king’s ransom for such new knowledge.

Come to think of it, it was a wonder Grenda hadn’t tried to do this with plastic already. Solinda originally supposed that Ethan West would eventually acquiesce to such a deal and easily trade away the secrets of its make.

Her initial impression was that Ethan was a naïve youth that lost his way in another world; but in hindsight, and in light of recent developments: there was a looming possibility that he’d been working on this for a long time. Subtly manipulating, scheming, and engineering events that lead to today’s conclusion, and the birth to the new Church of Science. In light of this, her assumption of his naïvete was certainly gone, replaced by careful consideration in any future dealings.

A sudden lull in the conversation brought her out of her reverie, and she looked at Felwar, who surprised her by counting coins out of his purse and handing them to the man, who eyed them curiously with a contemplative look. In exchange, the man handed him a few ingots of the new alloy.

That was new… When did Krell start trading with coin? Didn’t they use a barter and merit system instead of currency?

Felwar straightened and unshouldered his bag. With great care, out came an apron, a hammer, and his seldom used smithing gloves.

Soon he was lost to the world, hammering at a Flexibronze ingot with renewed passion and great zeal.

She guessed it was going to take a while.

Ugh! Dwarves… Solinda muttered, before wandering off in search of a certain Gnome and something better to do than stand around watching him swing a hammer all day.

Kothar accompanied Milandera to the meeting Ethan West had promised with the captives. She seemed nervous, but also slightly relieved that her friends were finally going to be freed.

To be fair, he was pleased that the reason for her incessant prodding during the past weeks would go away. It was a source of unnecessary friction between them.

He was also light of heart because of a different reason.

During breakfast that morning, and after a casual hint she’d dropped about the nature of their relationship, he’d instantly recognised the opening, and took the chance to hint at his budding feelings to her. He was grateful to find out that the feelings were mutual, and were reciprocated in kind.

He suspected the recent blessing had something to do with it, after learning its effects from his prayer to the Goddess later that day. [Enlightenment] had many effects, and one of which was insatiable curiosity, and a bolder outlook when it came to obtaining answers to the questions that plagued you. Matters of the heart included, apparently. It was a healthy thing, he thought. At least the dose of courage had spurred him to act.

She’d received the blessing, too – she confirmed – but apparently the increase to literacy was not part of the blessing itself. It was contrary to what he thought, as she did not experience that effect at all.

He hadn’t told her about his new class yet. He was waiting to discuss it with Ethan first, just in case he ended up rejecting it.

They arrived to see the [Paladin] Adrian talking to Ethan, and a group of elders who were listening to the conversation. Kothar hoped this would go well, and the situation would be resolved peacefully, for Milandera’s sake.

A small motion caught his eye, and he turned to the side to notice a goblin squatting and watching him curiously in one of the cages, which he found quite odd.

Why wasn’t it immediately killed? He wondered… then he remembered the person he was dealing with. Ethan West would probably capture the goblin to study it, instead of killing the vermin outright. Which he supposed was a lucky break – or a worse fate, depending on your perspective – for the unfortunate creature.

He summarily dismissed the goblin from his thoughts, and followed Milandera as she edged closer to the conversation between her friends and Ethan.

Adrian was eying Elder Ro warily as he spoke to Ethan, and Kothar guessed that the fact that the [Paladin] couldn’t lie had been revealed, because Ethan seemed really interested in that aspect of his oath, and was in the midst of asking whether all [Paladins] were unable to lie.

Adrian was trying to dodge the topic, but he answered after Elder Ro cleared her throat. She gave him a look which he seemed to dread for some reason.

“Only the [Paladins] of Order are required to make such a pledge.” He paused, as if considering the truth of his statement, then continued, almost unwillingly, “…and those devoted to the Church of Truth are unable to utter a lie, but can also intuit the truth in others.” He trailed with the last statement as an afterthought, then seemed to regret it.

“Okay, thank you for answering my questions,” Ethan said as the Drake woman approached the crowd of people, walking closer after spotting Grenda, who was quietly listening to the conversation with interest, “Now on to matters of more substance pertaining to your current predicament,” Ethan continued calmly, “Your friends are only interested in the celestial fruit, as far as I’m aware. Which is something I have no qualms with, so long that they provide something to the settlement in exchange. Perhaps a fair trade – and their freedom – can be arranged?” He looked to Giran – the half-elf – who nodded hurriedly.

“However, I am told that you’ve come here on a mission to kill me, because of an edict from your Goddess. Can we, perhaps, reach a different agreement? Can you promise to not kill me, if I set you free?” Ethan asked reasonably.

“No.” Came Adrian’s unhesitant reply.

“What if I had you released away from here, will you attempt to come back and kill me still?”

“Yes.” Adrian seemed almost pained by the simple word leaving his mouth.

“Because of your oath?” Ethan asked.

“Yes, despite my great desire for freedom. I simply can’t disobey. I can’t go against a holy edict.”

Ethan’s face darkened, and he asked one simple question that seemed to shock the paladin greatly, “Do you ever regret swearing your oath to Eterna?”

Giran gasped as a look of panic spread across Adrian’s features. His mouth opened to say something almost against his will, and he quickly cupped a hand to his lips to prevent himself from answering.

Aware of what almost happened, Adrian hid his face in his palms, in shame or something else; Kothar didn’t know.

“Thank you. That answers my question.” Ethan stated as the crowd around them started murmuring in astonishment.

Kothar stared, in awe at Ethan’s choice of method for extracting the truth out of the reticent [Paladin]. Elder Ro moved to sit on the nearest rock in shocked silence as the other elders started discussing this quietly to the side, while Adrian’s longtime companions – including Milandera – widened their eyes in realisation.

Ethan muttered something under his breath, it sounded like “I hate mind control,” but Kothar wasn’t entirely sure.

He turned to face Adrian and spoke to the [Paladin] again, “In light of this, I promise to set you free if you promise to answer a single ‘yes or no’ question in exchange, truthfully.” Ethan said.

The elders started murmuring at this, but Ethan waved their objections off.
Adrian’s palms moved away from his reddening tear-streaked face, and now he seemed livid with unrestrained anger. “You wish to trick me again with your deceit, you filthy spawn of chaos?”

“I have not tricked you. I simply asked you a question, and you almost answered it truthfully. It’s not my fault that you don’t like that answer.” Ethan said calmly, completely unphased by the insult, “What assurances do you require?” He finally asked.

“Make an oath to the Eternal Eye of Judgement and I will accept your offer.” Adrian responded icily.

“Oh, but that’s quite impossible, since that’s what got me in this situation to begin with; it failed to impose its ancient geas on me.” Ethan rebutted.

“Then I refuse your deceitful offer.” Adrian stated.

“If I may, there is another way…” The beastkin standing with the followers of Memeta – who seemed fascinated with this whole ordeal – spoke confidently into the silence, and all eyes turned to her. She stepped forward and introduced herself officially for Adrian’s benefit, “My name is Nadeera Sabretooth, and I’m a [Lawyer] of the Jaguar Clan. If you’ll allow me, I can ensure a binding agreement.”

Adrian scoffed, but didn’t outright refuse. It was easy to intuit his thoughts, with his freedom a stone’s throw away. Nadeera reached into her bag and produced a rolled scroll of very white parchment that looked almost magical in nature. She spoke up to explain: “This is a mana-binding contract. After both parties sign it, it will disappear. In the case its terms are ever broken, it will seal the mana of the offender; either forever, or until both parties agree to annul the contract.”

Ethan had a glint in his eyes, and seemed quite taken by this magically binding document. Knowing him, Kothar could almost feel his struggle against the impulse to snatch and study it.

Just then, Adrian nodded. “I can detect a measure of Order in it. I will agree to this, under two conditions: I will only answer one question, and I retain the right to refuse to answer it.”

“Not gonna happen, sorry.” Ethan countered, “You specifically have to answer the question, truthfully, and immediately, and the only allowed answers are either a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’; otherwise there’s no deal.”

Adrian sighed, “Then I reserve the right to refuse to answer, but only if it would expose a secret of my church or if my answer would interfere with my mission.”

“You mean killing me?” Ethan smirked, then responded with one word: “Deal.”

People tried to object again as Nadeera wrote up the mana contract, but Ethan silenced them. Nadeera then cast a spell on the scroll, which glowed brightly for a few moments, and she presented it to both men. At Ethan’s question on how to sign it, she directed him to channel mana into it, and Ethan did so.

The captive [Paladin] could not channel any amount of mana, thanks to the fact that the Krell fed all prisoners a special concoction that prevented spell casting. So Nadeera donated a small amount of her own mana for him to to sign the contract with.

Kothar wasn’t sure how that worked exactly, but when Ethan asked about it, she assured him that The Wheel made allowances for such cases, and that the contract would be binding to him, not to her.

Now came the anticipated moment that had everyone burning with unbounded curiosity.

“You may ask him your question now.” The [Lawyer] stated, after Adrian indicated his readiness.

“Sure,” Ethan said with a mischievous smirk, “If I told you that I am lying, would my statement be true?”

Everyone went silent at this, contemplating the odd question.

The Drake [Librarian] burst out in uncontrolled laughter, everyone turned to look at her. Then she started gulping for air, with her gaping maw on full display. Nadeera looked contemplative, before her eyes widened in sudden realisation of something, and she looked back towards the [Paladin].

Kothar followed her gaze and turned, only for his eyes to land on Adrian, who was frozen like a sculpture by the question. He’d apparently inhaled some air in preparation to answer, but now that air was running out, and his face was darkening as it turned a deep shade of blue.

Adrian’s choked voice finally uttered a barely whispered answer before he fell unconscious, and truthfully: his answer to the liar’s fallacy didn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things, because with his oath to his goddess shattered, there were grave consequences.

Those consequences manifested shortly thereafter as a sudden tear in reality. Then a loud thunderclap echoed, heralding the descent of the Eternal Eye Of Judgement in the sky.

“There you are, you filthy fucker!” Ethan bellowed at the Eye in a rage.

Kothar’s resolve firmed and his doubts dissapeared.

He made his decision.

[Character sheet is not available during combat.]