The relentless cheering blasted into Samuel’s ears when he exited the time sphere, creating a weird cacophony with their thoughts and cheers mixing in his mind. Almost everyone wanted him to exterminate the vermin standing across from him, influencing Samuel’s attitude even further in that direction.
“You will make for an excellent last opponent. We have watched all your battles, and you are truly astounding; it is a shame you are not serving the Holiest.”
A dark halo covered the Harbinger of Reality as he continued to talk, presumably charging the Putrid Death Spray attack. Samuel could feel an odd tug on his mind and body coming from the halo. It was similar to how Mortal’s Ascent worked, but more sinister. He could feel a connection with something elusive being established between his mind and something that seemed to not exist yet also did at the same time. Something sinister, chaotic, and mad. If not for the fact that Samuel’s will was beyond solid and the effect of his new technique, he would have lost his sanity within seconds. Luckily, that didn’t happen. However, the Putrid Death Spray was still charging, making the situation dangerous.
‘I need to finish this as fast as possible.’
Samuel slowly closed his eyes before having them shoot open. What came with their opening was a blinding silver beam that proceeded to cover the Harbinger of Reality’s body before erasing the growing dark halo from existence. Thousands of bullets, all capable of shattering mountains, formed around Samuel as he opened a corresponding amount of spatial tears around them. The arena became obscured in gold and black, with the bullets launching through countless spatial tears to confuse Samuel’s opponent before all connecting at the same time.
The dark cultist robe that covered the Harbinger of Reality’s body was riddled with holes, making dark mist seep through them. The mist started to corrupt the very air surrounding them—the spiritual qi, the ground, everything. Everything gained a devilish hue, disturbing stench, and eeriness. Even the formation protecting the spectators was starting to malfunction due to it.
“What is happening?”
“I don’t know, but I think it’s being caused by that dark mist.”
“This doesn't look good. I have a feeling we will all be in danger if Too Talented doesn’t stop that damned cultist.”
“I agree. We can only hope and pray.”
Hope and pray, you say? How perfect. Literal prayers of support and hope entered Samuel’s slightly scrambled mind, forcefully taking control over the amount of power he was harnessing from Mortal’s Ascent. He could feel his self-control slipping under the commands he was receiving, forcing him to launch another attack without proper planning.
Samuel sprung to action like the greatest of heroes, responding to the pleas of the people and throwing himself towards the cultist. A spear formed from faith and qi appeared in his hands, forcing the corruption away from him as he jabbed as fast as he could towards his opponent. Just as the spear was about to connect, a tentacle sprung out of the dark mist, bringing terror to his mind and body, almost forcing him to stop, but Mortal’s Ascent kept him going without regard for his opinions. Incomprehensible runes forced their way into Samuel’s eyes from the tentacle, and whispering madness forced its way into his mind from the thing behind it. The tentacle soon became two, then three, all the way up until hundreds of tentacles were flailing all over the arena, bringing with them mayhem and destruction to all they could find, especially their target, Samuel, who was close to succumbing to madness from the influx of prayers and the ramblings the tentacles brought.
Ding!
[Mandatory Quest altered yet again. Sorry for the inconvenience.]
[The seal on the Curse of Madness, the incarnation of fhtagn n'gha, has been broken ahead of time. It does not have long left before it will be dealt with by the Protectorate, making it restless. It craves and needs the destruction of the Shattered Realm, but you can’t let it. Keep it occupied and avoid dying in the process for three minutes to accomplish the mission.]
[Rewards will be tabulated afterwards.]
A sweeping tentacle flung Samuel across the arena straight into the wall on the opposite side of the Curse of Madness, causing his body to shatter before rapidly healing and reconstructing itself. The message from the system helped Samuel regain some control over his body again. ‘I stand no chance against this thing, but if I just need to occupy it, then that can be orchestrated. Hopefully the Malataincacha Protection will be sufficiently strong, or else...'
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Reality shifted, making room for something that was usually suppressed and hidden by the universe to reappear after an eternity. Dust particles in a color not comprehensible to three-dimensional beings surged towards Samuel’s body, forming an armor of sorts. There were no different parts of the armor; it was more like a projection covering his body. What was interesting, though, was the effect it had on the tentacle and the dark mist surrounding him. Burning sounds and wounds appeared from all over as the Curse of Madness retreated as quickly as it could, fearing the effect this armor could have on its plans. In other words, it was trying to flee. It started to thrash against the formation around them, shattering it in mere instants, before hurdling itself away from the arena, towards the northeast, in an attempt to get what it came for.
But the world said, “No, you don't,” and began to fire lightning strikes towards Curse of Madness in a violent attempt to erase his presence from the realm. Although the lightning was far too weak to damage the target, it was sufficient enough to allow a certain, definitely not slow, individual to catch up. The lighting attacks were disturbing the fabric of the realm, making opening spatial tears a bitch, forcing him to physically move over. Samuel never realized that, although he did not look like it, he was fat. Honestly, hippos might move faster than him. It was quite embarrassing, but no one paid it any head. They were all too mesmerized by the armor-covered knight, who was charging into danger to save them.
“Let me try something new. All the rest of my moves are way boring, to be honest.” Samuel’s thoughts never strayed far from posturing, so naturally, in such a glorious situation, how could he not make the most of it? Countless techniques came and went in his mind as he used the Mortal’s Ascent to borrow some inspiration from his believers. Soon, a sufficiently cool attack was formed.
Silence consumed an area of hundreds of kilometers as the colors of the world shifted. What was red was now purple, while what was black was white. The realm itself was clearly feeling the effects of this never-before-seen technique as it began to tremble yet again. First the sound, then the colors; all that was left was the attack itself. Samuel was unsure how powerful it would be, but he was sure it could send him to hell and beyond should it be used against him. The white mist-covered cultist began to stretch in all directions as if he wished to merge with his background.
“The world is the ultimate painting; become part of its essence.” The shifted colors began to surge in the direction of the cultist, trying to force their way into his body and his body into them. Samuel’s new technique took the concept of all things being part of something greater than themselves to a new level. The world was a painting where all should remain. It sounds really beautiful in theory, but in reality, it is mortifying. What Samuel is doing, through some inexplicable method, is changing the very fabric upon which someone's body is based, or, in other words, the connection between the soul and body. Instead of merging with a body, it will now be forced into the form of the color in the world, leaving it weak and crippled, effectively killing the individual.
The cultist, or rather, his god, was not willing to give up without a fight, however. The feeling of pure death emerged in the realm, decaying all the colors surging towards its vessel before surging out further to the very limits of the Shattered Realm. No mortal could ever withstand this, causing them all to perish. Every single non-Superior Mortal stage cultivator perished. It didn’t matter if they were old or young; they perished all the same under the gaze of death itself. Before further damage could be inflicted, however, a dashing, resplendent, and astonishing beam of light penetrated the new darkness of the realm, illuminating it in its colors.
“Vile vermin; stay in the restricted zone.” A disgusted yet calm voice came from outside the realm, presumably belonging to the caster of the beam. This command was met with a soul-wrenching screech echoing from the infinite void. The creature was angry, yet it knew it had lost. It was ready to retreat, but it needed to do one last thing before it left: memorize the aura and face of the puny mortal, which thwarted its plans.
“Why do I feel so exposed?” Samuel thought to himself as the feeling of being stared at consumed him. It did not last for long, as it left as suddenly as it appeared. Samuel was just about to ponder what the fuck was going on when an irking screen engulfed his vision.
Ding!
[Mandatory quest completed]
[Rewards: Path of Faith, ten talent locks removed, and one chance to gaze upon truth distributed to the inventory page]
[Congratulations on clearing the mission with flying colors and receiving a bonus reward.]
[Bonus reward: the inventory had merged with one of the REDACTED on your soul.]
[Congratulations on completing a hidden quest of unknown origin.]
[Rewards: Chance to meet REDACTED]
[Error detected! Illogical sense of events! Critical error]
Sirens began to blare in Samuel’s mind as the system began to freak out, leaving him stunned. He was about to ignore the system and check out his new inventory—as it seemed kind of faulty—but before he could, he was pulled into a different plane of existence against his will. Sitting, or rather laying very lazily on a reclining chair in the shade of a tree, was a person. A person who seemed very familiar to Samuel but who he could not remember for the life of him.
“Samuel, I have been thinking, and this whole system thing is just not working out. So, new plan: I will let you keep the rewards from the system while also keeping your talent sealed in a different way to allow for the development I want. What do you think? Well, it doesn’t really matter; I have already done it. The seals will now remove themselves as you progress on the path of cultivation. The Malatain—whatever the fuck—is also gone. I erased that thing from its pathetic non-existence. Why do sore losers just never give up, you know? The guy had his opportunity and failed, yet he still wants to possess someone and try again. I appreciate the dedication and passion, but, goddammit, take the hint. Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Also, just be aware that since he isn’t real anymore, the trial won’t have been either, so remember that things will be different when you go back. And, I almost forgot, the Wheel of Pain and Happiness rewards will all be dished out at the same time, while the opportunity to ‘gaze upon truth’ will be in your inventory. Good luck.”
Once again, before Samuel could make heads or tails of the situation, he was shifted through the planes of existence, only to return to the interrogation room, tucked into the soul-healing carpet.