Ramith Sain materialised outside of a large base that looked as though it had been grown, rather than built.

Someone established a Sanctuary Seed this soon after the world’s integration? Impressive, if a little overly ambitious.

He bent his neck to the side, making a satisfying cracking sound. A Sanctuary Seed this early must be some kind of record—at least in this sector.

Ramith rested his palms on the smooth, spherical pommels of his swords as he stepped toward the gate. A golem stood at the gate, wearing full plate armour. It turned its head to face him in that eerie way constructs moved. Ramith was not from this sector. His father had sent him here. That blasted man had kept Ramith from doing what he truly wanted—which was going to the Tower of Champions.

The man’s words ran through Ramith’s mind: It’s too dangerous, child. I will not lose another son just because your ambition is larger than your sense!

His father could not stop Ramith from going to the Tower of Champions. It was a choice each Denizen had to make for themselves. But respect for one’s parents had been ingrained into Ramith since the moment he was born. Besides, if he pissed off the old man, he wouldn’t be able to access his trust fund when he reached E Grade, and he also wouldn’t have been able to benefit from the man’s monetary support before that.

And though his father might not have truly been able to ban him, before the moment of his sixteenth birthday had come, his father had taken away all his Storage Rings and stripped him of his equipment, making him wear only his night clothes.

He hadn’t been about to go into a death due empty handed.

Ramith sighed. He pushed away thoughts of his father. There was still a lot of frustration there, but arriving here, on this newly integrated world in this sector that was so much younger than his own, he couldn’t help but appreciate all the advantages he’d had access to growing up.

These people had nothing. Or at least, close to it.

Ramith raised his chin and looked up at the guard tower looming over the wall’s battlements. He took a deep breath. “I challenge the Base Leader to ritual combat!”

If he were going to be relegated to invading some backwater baby planet in a burgeoning sector, he wasn’t going to settle for anything less than being its leader.

The gates opened. The golem construct stepped aside. A group of four Denizens stood just inside the walls. Two women, a male elf, and a drogin.

I didn’t know they even had drogin in this sector.

The appearance of different races confirmed to him the fact that this base had been established by an outworlder.

Of course this place was established by outworlders, Ramith thought, chiding himself. How could someone newly integrated in the last two weeks ever manage something like this?

He stepped over to the four Denizens. They were each wearing rather powerful armour. In fact, each step he took toward them made him a little more wary. One of them stood in front of the others. A woman in white robes. She was the one who unsettled him the most—it was the humour in her eyes at the sight of him.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea…

It was too late to back out now, however.

Still resting his palms on the pommels of his swords, Ramith stood as straight as he could and puffed out his chest. “Who am I to face?” He stared directly at the white robed woman. She was rather pretty, he had to say. It would be a shame if she were the one he needed to kill.

“I am,” a strong voice said. It didn’t come from any of the people gathered near the gate—it came from the entrance to the tower in the base’s middle.

A man with incredibly broad shoulders wearing black robes and carrying a scythe walked casually toward him. His hood was down, and looking at his face there didn’t seem to be anything special about the man.

Ramith blinked. He wasn’t producing an aura. Then again, neither was Ramith. He probably just had an item that prevented his aura from being released. Ramith tilted his head to the side and used Identify on the dark-robed man, wanting to see what level of enemy he was dealing with.

It didn’t work.

Another strong item? Why is he trying to hide his level here? It can’t be that high… is he trying to appear stronger than he actually is?

Yeah. That was probably it. A psychological thing to throw one’s enemy off balance. He could see how that might work on a lesser opponent.

But not Ramith Sain.

Ramith tilted his chin back and stared at the dark-robed man. “You shouldn’t have tried to establish a base so early.” He smiled. “There’s no way you’re going to be able to keep it.” Ramith drew his swords with a flourish. “But don’t worry, I’ll take it off your hands.”

The white-robed woman raised a hand to her mouth. Ramith wondered if she were about to gasp. But when he glanced at her she was laughing behind her hand.

Ramith faltered. She was laughing at him? No one would have laughed at his father! He never would have let someone get away with something like that!

“Careful, woman. I’m about to become your leader—you best treat me with some respect.”

“He thinks he can win,” said the drogin. “He is a fool.”

“This man is not my leader,” the woman said, motioning toward the man heading their way.

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Ramith felt confused more than anything else.

A notification popped up in his vision. The battle was about to begin.

There was no opting out of it. He was transported back outside of the base, to a clearing near it. The dark-robed man appeared opposite him, still looking relaxed. He let out a sigh.

“Does the System allow you to surrender?” he asked, sounding almost bored.

“This is a fight to the death,” Ramith said. “You will not be able to get out of it!”

The man inclined his head. He did not seem at all worried by this. Ramith swallowed. He gripped the hilts of his swords tightly. He’d been practising with dual swords since he’d been old enough to walk. His father had handed him the traditional weapons of his family. He wasn’t the one who’d trained Ramith. No, it would have been too much to ask a C Grade to train a child who hadn’t even gained access to the System yet, but he’d evaluated Ramith’s skills once every month.

And he had deemed him his most worthy child in a thousand years.

When Ramith had gained the System, the stats and skills he’d attained so quickly had made all of that training worth it. He’d gotten a massive head start over his peers.

This is going to be child’s play.

A countdown timer started in the corner of Ramith’s vision. He eyed it, swishing his swords back and forth in what he assumed would be a very intimidating manner. Looking at the man’s robes, his scythe, it was difficult for Ramith to tell what kind of class the man had. Perhaps his opponent had taken on some sort of mage-melee hybrid class.

Good. That’ll mean he’ll assume he can take me in a melee. He’ll let me get in close. And then that’s all I’ll need to get on top.

As the timer ticked closer and closer to zero, he was beginning to wonder if he was fooling himself. His instincts, his gut, all of it, told him something was wrong here, but he was refusing to heed those warnings. His brain knew better than his instincts. His brain knew there was no way someone from this sector, who’d been low enough level to travel to this world, could ever be better or stronger than him.

The countdown timer reached zero. Ramith burst into action.

The dark-robed man moved. His scythe tilted forward, ever so slightly, at a speed that was almost too fast for Ramith to be able to track. An energy had built up and been unleashed from the opponent’s weapon. He’d cast a spell so quickly it hadn’t even given Ramith an opportunity to defend or dodge it.

Ramith’s chest began to burn. He dropped his swords as his hands suddenly became incredibly weak. He clutched at his chest. What the hell was going on here? How could he be in such tremendous pain?

My core… it’s overloading! Burning through all of its energy!

That was something his father had told him to be wary of—but not until he had discovered his Spirit Core within him, something he was nowhere near doing. Right now, he couldn’t even feel it within him. At least, he hadn’t been able to until that spell had been cast on him.

He must have stood there for less than a second, for by the time his sword tumbled to the grassy ground beneath him, Ramith felt himself falling.

Then everything went black.

~

Congratulations, XAVIER COLLINS! You have defeated RAMITH SAIN in ritual combat. You shall remain the first Base Leader on Earth!

Xavier released a sigh. He looked down at the dead man. God, that had been easy. Too easy. He felt a little bit guilt about that, and wondered if he should have slowed down the fight. Maybe he could have made it seem as though this Ramith had a chance at winning.

But he wasn’t one to play with his opponents. It seemed more compassionate to give the man a swift death than to give him any sense of false hope. Xavier hadn’t even bothered scanning Ramith. From the sight of him, he could tell he wouldn’t be an opponent he would need to worry about.

How could he, when I just took out thousands of invaders in a single fell swoop?

Xavier walked over to the body. The man had a Storage Ring. His weapons, his armour, it looked rather expensive—even more so than what he’d seen on the other leaders of invasion forces he’d encountered since his return to Earth. Xavier knelt by the man and took his Storage Ring. He didn’t bother stripping the man of his armour and weapons. The man’s armour would be of no use to him. Neither would the swords. He would let whoever wished to come out here and claim them themselves. Though he wouldn’t let Adranial or anyone from her party be the ones to do that.

They have enough advantages.

Xavier walked over to the Subspace Communications Area Blackout Array he’d put in place in the moments before this man’s arrival, pulling one of the stakes out of the ground. The moment he did, he frowned, as a notification appeared in his vision—this one having nothing to do with the victory he’d just attained.

A five-sector wide beacon has just been activated from your Communication Stone.

“What? A beacon from my Communication Stone?” He didn’t know his Communication Stones had the capability to release beacons—his eyes widened. He looked inside Ramith’s Storage Ring. There were four Communication Stones within, each with a five-sector wide radius…

One of them appeared to be flashing inside the Storage Ring.

Xavier bit his lip. “That doesn’t seem good.” He took the Communication Stone out of the Storage Ring and turned it over in his hand.

Deactivate beacon, he willed.

The red flashing on the beacon ceased, but he knew it was too late. Whatever message the Communication Stone was trying to get out would have already been released. He stared at it for a moment. A part of him wanted to crush it in his hands.

He’d been careful to ensure no knowledge of how powerful he was would leave this world—a method he still thought should work—but he was beginning to wonder if he’d simply been naïve.

I’ve certainly realised that mistake on other things…

Alistair Reed came to mind. He should have crushed that murdering bastard when he had the chance.

[Who possesses this Communication Stone?]

The voice rang out in his mind. Deep. Powerful. And… old. Very old. He wasn’t sure how he could tell that last part from the voice alone, but it was just a feeling that slammed straight into his gut.

Whoever this was, they were far more powerful than him.

[Who’s asking?] Xavier replied, still contemplating whether or not he should crush the stone.

This is who the beacon went out to.

[I am Ramith Sain’s father.]

Xavier paused. He looked over at the corpse of the man he’d slain. His father… He’d killed someone with a family. Loved ones. He didn’t often let knowledge like that in. It would stop him from doing what he needed to do if he thought too hard about it.

[My condolences.­]

Xavier hadn’t been sure what else to say.

[You are the one who killed him?]

[He should not have challenged me. And he should not have invaded my world.]

[Your world? You are from the baby world he went to? How interesting…] There was a pause. [My son had a compulsion to act before he thought. I always worried it would get him killed.] A long sigh was communicated through the device. [It is not your fault my son was a fool, but my family has a reputation to uphold. The Communication Stone in your hand has tagged you and your location. I now have the ability to track you if we are on the same world. It is a Soul Tag. Do not try to expunge it, you will only get yourself killed before my arrival, and that would spoil my chance at gaining revenge for my son.]

Xavier paused. That… was not good.

Whoever he is, he can’t come to Earth. Not for at least five years…

[I could just leave. There are countless worlds I could hide on—you would never be able to find me after the restriction on this world was released.]

It wasn’t that Xavier wanted to hide, or even that he would—hell, he wasn’t sure he even believed this man about a Soul Tag. It was certainly nothing he’d heard about.

And did he really want to come after Xavier in five years just because he’d—

Killed his son…

Okay, I could see how someone would travel to another world to do that.

[If you are not there to take penance for your actions, I will take it out on your world. It is up to you.]