Two weeks passed before Nil, his friends, and family got the time to go out together. He recovered from his injury in the meantime and also finished consuming the Mind pill. Unfortunately, it only netted him an additional rank in the attribute. Low potential came with severe drawbacks. It wasn’t just that his Mind grew at an abysmal rate; the forums claimed that he likely got less return on it, further propagating the belief that the archetypes were more related to an individual's attributes than abilities.

As expected, neither Absorb nor Expend reached the desired Iron-Nine, and the match with Pietro continued to edge closer. Regular training with Isabella and Noah, as well as endless drills in the obstacle course, resulted in welcome positive results. Nil received several pleasing notifications related to them.

Finesse has progressed to Bronze 3!

Spark has progressed to Bronze 8!

Toggled Supercharge has progressed to Iron 5!

Each rank was invaluable. The one unit of Finesse significantly sharpened Nil’s senses and reflexes, granting him better control over his body. Best of all, he could afford to infuse more energy when supercharging speed without endangering himself. His base speed also increased significantly.

The additional Spark provided a nice boost to his maximum capacity. Nil had cultivation and all the related techniques to thank for the growth. He didn’t get an additional rank in Wield The Source as he had hoped, but it was still plenty. Nil felt his connection to his energy and control over it improved with the attribute’s growth.

The additional ranks of Toggled Supercharging were, of course, welcome. The changes weren’t dramatic, but the basic boost without additional energy improvement marginally improved. Every bit of extra speed, strength, or toughness made the difference.

Outside of the Schema-recognized developments, Nil also made significant advances in emission, shaping, and manipulation. Watcher claimed his most notable improvements were in Shaping. His Source Sphere remained stable at tennis-ball size, not losing any energy unless he threw it or let it touch anything but air.

The punching knife was almost just as good, but the more complicated knuckle-duster dagger still wasn’t as good as he hoped. Of the Source weapons, the three-finger blader continued as his best-made weapon. Noah and he discussed transforming it into a katar or having it encompass his entire hand. Unfortunately, Nil struggled to get a clear enough mental image and create a stable construct. However, the guidance proved invaluable, and Nil used the second of his three vouchers for more time with Watcher. The mysterious entity gave him ten sessions instead of seven.

Andrew’s advice to channel all energy through the gems also helped. It was challenging to completely change how he went about using the gauntlets, but his Source Sphere and weapons consumed a lot less energy during their creation.

Nil also tried developing other uses for the Source to pursue the duality concept Andrew had mentioned, but it proved nearly impossible. It wasn’t just that Nil knew little about the multiversal energy and its capabilities. There was something philosophical and introspective about it that Nil just couldn’t get his head around. With only three weeks left until his fight with Pietro, Nil doubted he’d magic a new weapon or tool in the time he had left. Andrew insisted he not give up on the possibility of a breakthrough, but Nil chose to shelve the matter and improve on what he already had at hand.

Even though Nil’s Expend rank didn’t change, his control over aerial movement significantly improved. Thanks to the gauntlets’ amplification ability, it took almost no energy for the hand blasts. Shaping helped him contain and direct the energy releases better. Afterward, it was just a matter of adjusting angles. The explosive foot Expends saw far less improvement, but Nil successfully reduced how much he deviated from his intended direction. Handblasts helped him make corrections afterward.

Most of all, Nil sharpened his instincts. He had Noah, Zora, Cara Sue, and most of all, Isabella to thank for the improvements. They were all a collection of minor growths, and everyone told Nil they were enough, but he couldn’t be sure. The idea of facing Pietro filled Nil with fear, but he reminded himself that if it wasn’t him, Shawn or Selia would need to fight him. Then, if either of them died, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself.

Nil didn’t want to admit it to anyone, but the fear excited him. He recognized it as the duality Andrew mentioned. The chances of death were high. The risk made it even more thrilling. Looking death in the eye made Nil feel alive. He had told no one about how he felt. Not Andrew. Not Selia. While Selia was more likely to understand him, Nil didn’t feel ready to bear himself to her in such a manner. He didn’t have a need or desperation to throw himself into such situations. It wasn’t a compulsion or addiction. However, Nil considered the twisted side of him valuable. It made him willing to throw himself into necessary situations where monsters needed to be put down or decent people—especially his people needed protecting.

Instead of talking to anyone about it, Nil pushed his friends and family to get together for a meal. A probable final meal. He booked a week in advance for a table of eight on a Saturday evening. The list of attendees included Nil, Selia, Shawn, Susan, Andrew, Udit, Emily, and Sam.

Either someone saw the pre-planned match on the roster, or Pietro talked to the press. Nil and Bunty received endless messages requesting a live interview. People already wanted to talk to him after Jaqueline’s death. Nil agreed to an interview on Bunty’s insistence. When the interviewer asked him about how he was celebrating his recent victories or spending quality time with people important to him, he told them about the planned dinner. The disarming interviewer also managed to get the location out of him. Nil felt like a fool afterward.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

When the party of eight arrived for dinner at Misdirection—Nil’s former workplace—a giant crowd of paparazzi welcomed them. Shawn had to erect translucent barriers to block their vision and let the minors flee indoors. Udit also followed closely behind them, with Susan and Andrew. Shieldmaster Shawn was the last of the party to enter after the rest of the Death Gauntlet Team were already inside.

Even though it was short notice, Nil’s celebrity status got them the chef’s table. His old boss also came out to see them. The man shook hands with all the guests, took photos with them, and then returned to the kitchen. Nil struggled not to roll his eyes at the man. Employment under him and its end was an endless stream of abuse, but now fame had turned the chef’s tune. If not for Emily and Sam begging to see where he used to work, Nil would’ve booked elsewhere.

The evening was supposed to be a celebration of their recent victories and Andrew’s welcome home. Nil didn’t tell anyone, but he also considered it a farewell meal in case he didn’t make it. Unfortunately, he felt uneasy the second he stepped out of the car, and the feeling intensified at the chef’s table and every second he spent in his seat.

“It’s nice to meet you finally,” Emily told Selia. The pair sat opposite each other. Nil had placed Andrew and Susan between his sister and father. “How long have you been official?”

“Almost a month now,” she answered, playfully bumping Nil with her shoulder. “I thought I’d have to egg him on like I did when he asked me on, but Nil initiated the talk all by himself.”

“Wow. That’s growth.” Emily grinned at her brother. “I’m proud of you.”

“You should be. He is a good man, an amazing cook, and a bloody amazing Summoned.”

“He’s a good brother too.”

Nil did his best to be polite and not give away his discomfort. Everyone appeared to be having a good time. Shawn was finally starting to open up with Andrew. Udit and Susan were discussing current affairs, and Sam appeared glad just to be out late and in a venue so grand and fancy. Nil couldn’t ask for more, but something continued to bug him. He couldn’t tell whether it was the paparazzi outside or his former employer milling around the kitchen and silently abusing the staff under his breath. Even though the chef’s table was in the kitchen, it put him in the perfect position to view all the cooking and the restaurant’s glass front door without moving.

The sensation lingered, not strengthening or weakening as their drinks and the tasting menu’s opening snacks arrived. He barely noticed that the textures and tastes were slightly off. They didn’t meet the quality standards he held as sous chef. But it wasn’t what was bothering him.

“What are your plans after you make it to the Bronze Gauntlet?” Susan asked, pulling Nil out of his thoughts.

Nil shrugged. “I know I don’t want to head into the Death Gauntlet again. Layla already knows how much I hate it and how little I want to do it again. I could try the Gauntlet of Ten or some of those big group events or the giant battle royales, which come with a butt load of points.”

“There’s the Cleansing,” Susan said. “You lot could try for that. It’s hard, but the top teams get a shit load of points.”

“I heard about that!” Selia exclaimed. “First-prize includes half the necessary points for promotion to Silver Gauntlet. The second position gets twenty-five percent and fifteen for third. We could try for it as a trio. If Cara Sue and Zora haven’t made it to Silver by then, they could join us, too.”

“Good luck getting the tickets,” Shawn told them. “The arena allows only eight entrants per Seed World, and Wilson Luduses gets most of them. They got six of them last year, seven the year before, and all before that. Competition is going to be harsh.”

“I’m sure we can manage,” Nil said. “Between Nexus resources and cultivation, I bet we can compete with Wilson.”

“Fine.” Shawn sighed. “I don’t mind the challenge, but we’d be pissing off a lot of important people if we win. They could make life for us significantly harder.”

“Since when was that an issue for you?” Selia asked, right eyebrow raised. “Don’t tell me you still have a shrine dedicated to Wildshape Wilson.”

“I never had a shrine,” Shawn replied, rolling his eyes. “It might not be the best idea. That’s all. But if you and Nil are going to give it a shot, I will too. I just want you to know the risks. If you want to do anything besides arena and quests, like set up an enterprise on Earth, you don’t want the Wilsons against you. Adrian has lots of big government contracts. Arthur pretty much rules and monopolizes the tech industry and supply chains.”

“The Cleansing sounds good to me,” Nil said. “I know nothing about it, but it sounds far better than Death Gauntlet and the heartbreak of getting kicked out of the Gauntlet of Ten.” He returned his attention to Susan. “What is the Cleansing?”

“One-twenty-eight people. Always eight from sixteen different universes. They divide themselves into teams of three to five and race through a fallen world. The entire team or all survivors need to make it to the finish line and kill a bunch of Cursed Ones along the way. Only one group gets the top prize. If more than half the team is knocked out, the entire team loses. The prizes are usually insane, so it can get cutthroat, and you’ll have lots of teams trying to take each other out.”

“That sounds like a fair bit of fun. I’m guessing it's the arena constructs way of reclaiming or cleansing worlds for reseeding,” Selia said thoughtfully. “Well, now I want to give it a shot, too. Win or lose, it should be a great experience and net us a bunch of ranks and experience. Right?”

Shawn nodded. “As far as I know, no team from our world has won. The best we’ve done is second place, and that’s when Wildshape did it himself. We also got third a few years ago.”

“I say we keep our eyes open for ticket events,” Nil told his friends. He had hoped the conversation would distract him from the unease, but it didn’t. “What do we have to lose? Besides pissing off—”

“Sunil,” Utpal called, interrupting the conversation. “Would you mind showing Sam to the men’s room? Maybe also show him around?”

“Of course, Baba.” Nil rose from his table. “If the chef doesn’t mind, I can also show them around the kitchen. Would you like that, Sammy?”

“Yes, please!” The now thirteen-year-old piped up.

“Can I come too?” Emily asked, already getting up from her seat.

“I don’t see why not.”