### Floor 47, Goldrush Monastery. The Merchant God's Hidden Lair.
Inside a golden castle, hidden within a dragon's lair, a gigantic dwarf sat on a throne of gold. The floor was littered with golden coins and artifacts, and everything, including the walls, was made of gold. The only thing not gold was a piece of jewelry hanging on the dwarf’s neck—an ancient dragon bone pendant he had last forged after devouring the myths of the one who once owned the lair.
Surrounding him were servants of various races, all with nails, hair, and skin of gold, dressed provocatively, clinging to the Merchant God with fervent desire, hoping that serving him would make them the richest in the world.
He fondled the golden elf's breasts as she squirmed in delight. Somehow, the gesture made the elf shinier, more... richer.
Riches. Hilder scoffed. The truth was, he hated gold. A currency for lesser beings, worthless upon reaching a certain level.
Fragile.
Soft and bendable.
Practically useless in high-tier combat.
Unless you could maybe outshine your opponent to death.
A contradiction to the metal loved by his ancestry. Yet it was the very shiny thing that had kept him alive for all these long years.
Unlike timeless beings like the great world tree, the primordials, or even the undead, for all the rot they suffer, and obviously the keeper of time, normal entities like Hilder, despite the grace of immortality the system provides, wither throughout their years and die of old age.
Of course, you might say there's an easy answer: leveling up. The higher the level, the stronger the existence, the longer you can withstand the nullification of time.
The only thing is, you can only go so high within the floors.
Beyond the 25th floor, the rule to absorb a portion of the death penalty of your slain foes amplifies up to 25 percent of your victim's lost experience.
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Beyond the 50th...
More sinister concepts are allowed by Avalesk: taking over one's body and identity, various ways to devour other people’s levels. Tens and even twenties of levels can be stolen upon a single death. Powerful old monsters that would simply shatter as soon as they lose a level roam the floors, desperately waiting to take anything and everything that can help extend their lifespan.
The 75th floor onwards... Hilder wanted to puke at the beings on or beyond the 75th.
On the 75th floor, a new rule came up where you reset all the levels and benefits you gained after reaching the 75th floor upon dying there. Time, money, treasures, lifespan—the system takes back everything.
And it will take back even more as payment if you ever want to descend back to the lower floors.
Nevertheless, people tread past the 75th. Stagnation is death when your time is almost up, after all. For the majority who’ve reached this far, it was probably the best time to push themselves past their bottlenecks and seek what true immortality means and what lies beyond the top.
Sadly, not all are fated.
Hilder had tried it himself. He was once a brute of a dwarf, well-versed in the concepts of heaviness, and had dedicated his own body to modification for hundreds of years. But alas, he kept dying beyond the 75th. He kept dying, reviving, dying, wallowing in sorrow, then dying again.
It made him realize how harsh Avalesk truly is, to have him watch himself grow old, even though he knew a way to extend his lifespan. Unwilling to die and wither, Hilder clung to the very thing high climbers hated—a mockery of true immortality and timelessness.
Deification.
A concept recognized by the system allowing the deity to harness the gifts and prayers of those who worship him. Using his strengths and achievements, he established a long-lasting image of prosperity, greed, and most importantly, gold, forever tying his lifespan to his followers...
Forever tying his life to his ‘ROLE’.
At first, it wasn’t all bad. Being able to gather intel from his followers, grant gifts, and get favors in return. Take offerings, some of which even gave control over their follower's body and soul, like the golden beauties surrounding him.
As long as he continues to fulfill his role...
His role...
His role...
Hilder stopped himself before he almost crushed the neck of the golden elf in temper.
All for the sake of being timeless... The Merchant God mumbled his musings, his thoughts leading back to the view of the walking anomaly that had just bested them.
It was an utter defeat. It was almost nonsensical how a level 40 could have survived that, but there it was. And it was by a Creator-based god even.
Hilder felt a tinge of jealousy but quickly shrugged it away. Unlike deities like him, Creators, though operating on the same concept, essentially create their own worship. Even deities like him will be forgotten over time. Sooner or later, he’ll be challenged by the next person with the very same idea he had. Some might even be stronger than him. And he’ll slowly lose influence and be forgotten.
‘What a lucky chap,’ Hilder chuckled at his own self-reflection. He had lived through hundreds of years, so it was easy for him to control himself.
He didn’t hate the kid. He even wished him well, in fact.
He had bested the tribulation fair and square. Way too splendid in his opinion as it had gathered too much attention, but all the same. The kid was doomed right from the time he had caught the attention of the World Tree.
‘Fucking timeless beings,’ Hilder cursed. He too had his own shares of encounters with those privileged… things…
‘Ugh,’ Hilder didn’t even want to acknowledge them as actual entities. He looked at the man doing some form of interview on a stage before he thought of his current situation. He had five or so more years at this point.
Maybe a change of identity is in order.
---
To be continued.