Amidst a lightly falling snowy night, unseen by ordinary men, there was a person whetting his ax on top of a gravestone.

Day and night, he had done this unceasingly. How long he had been doing that, even the man himself didn't know, for the passage of time was inconsequential to him.

“Good evening.”

The man stopped grinding his ax with a stone and looked at the one who called. The voice had something unusual that elicited a response from him.

The caller was a cloaked man. When he faced the stranger, he began pulling down his hood and the moonlight revealed a handsome blond-haired man wearing a confident smile.

“My name is Tanael and I’m here to-”

“Doesn't matter,” the ax man interrupted and stood up before Tanael, towering about two meters taller than him. “Whatever it is, first, defeat me.”

The one called Tanael had to crane his neck to meet his eyes.

“As expected, another warrior who fell while chasing martial perfection. Very well. If I defeat you, I’ll take your soul. Deal?”

The man grunted with a nod. Although, he didn't have high hopes for this Tanael.

He was weaker than him.

Nevertheless, the axeman wouldn't say no to an opportunity to battle.

“I seek a warrior's end. Now come!”

“I don't seek an end at all,” Tanael unsheathed his sword and made a stance. Three breaths passed after they made their fighting stance and the ax man made the first move. The opponent was ready so it was not a sneak attack. He had detested something like that since he still drew breath till even after he did not.

“Hrggh!”

Tanael planned to dodge it, but it was too fast and he had no choice but to block it with his sword. The force of the blow sent him flying, destroying the gravestones of others. Tanael picked himself up but the axeman's ax was already descending above his head.

This time, Tanael not only raised his sword to guard but also deployed a magical shield. The ax carried a bundle of energy like swirling storms and landed above the two-layered defense. Tanael’s knees buckled and the stone floor below his feet cracked. While he was bracing the blow, he didn't realize a kick coming to his chest.

“Ohogh!”

Tanael rolled over the floor a few times and stopped after eleven meters.

“Weak,” the axeman said with a disappointed tone. “Begone from my sight.”

He’d lost interest after the brief exchange and offered a chance for Tanael to disengage but he seemed to have another idea.

“Well, I’m still growing,” Tanael got back on his feet while in pain. “And I haven’t lost yet.”

True enough, the axeman saw that Tanael's eyes were not the eyes of someone that had accepted defeat.

“Fool.”

Which gave him another moment of disappointment. A seasoned warrior should be able to accurately gauge his opponent with an exchange of blows. Since Tanael didn't seem to realize the difference in strength between the two of them, that meant his skill was only worth that much.

The axeman unleashed a barrage of blows, unnaturally swift for a weapon as big as his ax. His strength was even more stunning than his speed. Tanael was getting beat up even though not a single hit landed cleanly.

The battle raged on, but it was more like a one-sided beatdown. For every ten strikes of the axeman, Tanael only managed to eke one strike and even then the axeman dealt with it, with no difficulty at all.

The flow of battle was firmly within the grasp of the axeman from the start. The axeman counted he only needed two more moves before chopping off the stranger’s neck.

“Hmph, you’re stronger than me, so what?”

Tanael let go both of his hands from the sword, a puzzling move for the axeman. He then made a square with his thumbs and index fingers.

Arte - Fatal Soulframe First Form: Horror!

There was a flash of light, the axeman felt a piercing pain throughout his ghostly form.

“Naive!”

The axeman exerted his spirit and repelled the attack. Tanael had a stupefied look on his face.

“A strong soul resides in a strong body. I’m not a soul Pathseeker but your paltry trick is nothing compared to my steel body and spirit!”

Something like a squarish paper appeared before Tanael but the axeman did not care. He cleaved the ground with the ax and a rending shockwave traveled through the ground and engulfed Tanael.

The axeman looked at the scene of destruction before him and waited for the dust to settle.

There was no body, only a severed arm and a broken sword.

“I know you’re stronger than me, but the winner will be me.”

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Tanael was already at the edge of the graveyard. He’d lost an arm and looked wretched but his confident smile didn't waver. The axeman improved his opinion of Tanael a little. Showing such determination to fight a stronger opponent was worthy of praise.

And then, Tanael turned around and left.

The axeman was frozen for two seconds before a tidal wave of disappointment landed upon him.

“Trash.”

The axeman returned to sit on top of his gravestone and whetted his ax once again. He was trying to expunge the bad taste of the fight from his mouth.

People came to the graveyard, curious about what the commotion was about but other than the aftermath of the battle, they didn't find anything, even though the axeman was right in front of them. The axeman similarly didn't really treat them as existing.

An hour later, he suddenly felt a piercing pain in his chest.

“Huaaghh!?”

It was like someone drove a wooden stake to his heart. The axeman held his chest in pain, dropping his ax down.

Then came another one.

“Gaaahh!”

W-what is happening!?

And the third one came. Each time the pain came, it was more painful than the last.

“Show yourself!”

The answer came in the form of the fourth piercing.

This feeling… Is it him?

“This is how you fight? COWARD!!!”

The axeman erupted with fury, expanding his Domain as far as he could. The unfortunate people that were still around got crushed by the pressure of the Domain and died.

“Dishonorable cur, I’ll tear you apart!”

Tanael was surprised, he didn't think a ghost like the axeman was still able to deploy his Domain after he died.

But Tanael was far, far away.

***

Arsène whistled seeing the Domain in the distance.

Even if the axeman’s Domain was five times larger, it still wouldn't catch Tanael.

You’re strong, old man. But the winner will be me.

With his remaining arm, Arsène jammed a metal nail on a photo of the axeman.

“AAAARRRGH!!”

The beast-like howl from the axeman came from the Domain.

“Come OUT! Face me like a man!”

No thanks. I’m happy cheesing you out. Enjoy my jujutsu.

Arsène gave the photo another nail piercing without remorse or hesitation.

The stronger the soul, the more beneficial it was for Viers’ Myriad Souls in One Arte. On the other hand, the stronger the soul meant the more difficult to handle as well, especially Level 4 Pathseekers. They were able to cultivate their soul and they didn't need to possess soul affinity.

That axeman was strong, even Arsène had to take risks. If he simply used Soul Fatalframe Arte on him, he suspected there was a high possibility it would be repelled so he did so during the fight, where he was focusing on attacking to create a photo, a medium for the curse. An arm was a good trade for that.

On lesser souls, the entire soul would be trapped in the photo all at once and suffer lethal damage. The strength of the axeman’s soul was very impressive so he had to grind him down little by little using a cursing method.

Blasts of energy from ax swings came out from the Domain in random directions.

Arsène applauded his resilience by continuing to curse the axeman from a safe location.

I cheesed in games, now I cheese in life… That’s what I call self-improvement!

It took fifteen minutes until the rampage of the axeman died down. To be on the safe side, Arsène kept cursing the axeman for another fifteen minutes.

With Aletro’s soul attainment, Viers’, and by extension, Arsène’s knowledge of the soul was as extensive as a world-class speedrunner on video games.

When he saw the axeman again, it was a far cry from his strong, robust form earlier. He was haggard, thin, and fading. He looked like he would scatter into a million pieces if a light wind blew.

Arsène took enough precautions so he wouldn't be the victim of a hero’s last attack before death but it wasn't necessary.

Arsène turned the axeman’s soul into a ball and absorbed it.

Then he pointed a finger at the tombstone of the axeman, proud as hells.

“Your soul is mine.”

As for the cherry on top, tens of people that got killed by the axeman’s Domain were also collected by Arsène.

The falling snow all around him was like a standing ovation.

***

Why was he proud? Why wouldn't he be? He bested a stronger opponent. He’d taken into account his strengths and his opponent’s and used tactics to achieve victory.

Yes, it was not underhandedness that he attacked a bound ghost that couldn’t leave his haunting area from afar. It was certainly nothing of the sort.

Unlike in other power fantasy stories, I don't need to have an epic battle against every opponent stronger than me. It’s a pain in the butt! Work smarter, not harder. Don't they ever think about that? Besides…

If you find yourself in a fair fight, your tactics suck!

He liked that quote very much.

Heheheh… My other self had quite a rich experience in his journey of wandering.

Arsène needed maintenance after his arm got cut off so he was back to Dia’s Biome. He’d also gathered quite a bit of loot. It would be too much of a shame if he died without ‘saving his progress’.

To that end, he had to return physically to his other self’s side. Since he couldn't teleport, Dia’s special ability was crucial.

In his journey, Arsène also sought sites that were suitable for growing the Gate Plants. It was scarce and sometimes it was too far and between, not all of them safely grew to functionality either, but Arsène managed to build some ‘teleportation points’.

Hehehe, this world is becoming more and more game-like by my own hands. Neat!

The thousand human souls that Arsène brought would help him recover his soul injury somewhat. Mr. X’s injury scarred his soul deeply. Even for someone with extensive soul mastery as him, recovery was not a minor matter. However, the value of the souls was much greater than that.

Among the thousands, about half of them were Pathseekers. Level 0, 1, 2, 3, even two Level 4.

Counting using Myriad Souls in One power classification, it would bring him much closer back to the Grand Soul foundation. In the Book World, thanks to eating the souls of Zerrigan’s children, the Tyra Xergs, Viers had eaten close to a million souls.

Because he split his soul to give life to Futon and Faiya, his foundation was halved. During his adventure in Valkut, he still had not reached the Grand Soul stage again.

As Arsène was performing free soul cleaning services in the places he went, Viers was getting closer to the height of his glory days.

Awright, once Arsène recovers, he’ll continue as he did, roaming around and doing things. Basically, he’ll continue to become an open-world game protagonist. The question is, what should I do?

The answer was clear: more adventure.

But not in very-hard difficulty like in Valkut. I’m still an injured person recovering. Gotta pick a place with a therapeutic effect. Now, where’s a good place…

After months of licking his wounds in his familiar’s Biome, Viers was ready to spread his wings once again.