With his task finished, at least for now, Jonathan went out in search of the others. It was time to return to Tartarus, and continue exploring.
He strode over to the others, watching them for a few moments as they finished training. Hushar labored on improving his body, enhancing the size of his sword to increase its weight. This was in a bid to finally form his stamina core, but it seemed to be taking the giant of a man significant effort to do so. Meanwhile, Edgar danced amid a storm of almost uncontrolled elemental energy, trying to reach a point of intersection with it. He had gained the Elemental Manipulation skill almost immediately, as soon as he put his mind to it. However, ranking it up was a different story.
The other three Uthraki sparred with one another, drifting closer to improving their martial skills. They still lagged behind Hushar and Edgar, but not by that much.
“Finished already?” Edgar called out, not missing a beat in terms of his practice. As he spoke, the wind whipped up to a hurricane’s force.
“Yep. Three combination skills. Slothari won’t know what hit her.”
“You know, I have no idea why you seem to be so talented at upgrading Pathway skills,” Edgar continued. “You have only been in this world for a few months, but you already exceed me, who has lived in Telvaria for my entire life.”
“I suspect that it has something to do with my constant combat. You entered this world, and had a somewhat normal life for the most part. You didn’t spend your entire time training and fighting. However, the equivalent of a few decades of life in Telvaria can be condensed down to a few months in a place as dangerous as the Hells.”
“I know what you mean,” Edgar agreed. “I have made more progress since meeting you than during the rest of my life.”
“Well, I think it’s high time for some more training. Are you up for a trip to Tartarus?”
“You mean leaving Hell to go to an even worse version of it? When have I ever said no?”
“Count me in as well,” Hushar added. “My brother has already had his fill of Tartarus.”
“Hey!”
“Ignore him,” Hushar said, grinning. “He just likes disagreeing with me in public.”
Jonathan smiled. “At least you two aren’t trying to kill each other now.”
“At least that,” Hushar agreed.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Jonathan took out the token, and then spotted Branth training in the corner of the courtyard. He wasn’t sure if this would work, but he had a pretty good idea about the power contained within his transport token. The description was vague, but it seemed to draw upon the power contained within Tartarus, and compared it to his own. If he was below the threshold, he could bring others with him. However, Branth was close to mid Tier 3, and the others he had brought before had been weaker, at least in terms of levels.
“Branth?”
“Yes?” The beastman called out, not pausing in his training.
“Do you want to gain some easy levels? If what I’m planning works, that is.”
“Easy levels? Count me in.” The man stopped punching a pillar of rock that seemed to have been crafted by the Uthraki as a training pell, and raced over.
Jonathan held out the token, and the other three men laid their hands on it. He mentally activated it, hoping for success. Luckily, it worked. Reality warped, and he found himself standing in the cave inhabited by the elemental spirit, with Edgar, Hushar and Branth standing around him. Then he paused. There was no cave anymore. Simply a long tunnel leading to the surface, its sides charred black with heat. The other side still contained the catacombs, but it was overshadowed by the new addition.The elemental spirit still lounged in the lava pool, as if nothing had happened.
“You picked an auspicious time to return,” it said. “The Uthraki warlord only left a few hours ago.”
“Did he say anything to you before he went?” Jonathan asked.
“He lost interest in me decades ago, after he got what he wanted from me. All I am now is a curiosity that he wishes to be kept safe so as to not empower any of those beneath himself.”
“What is this place?” Branth asked, marveling at the fact that he had, for the first time in his life in the Hells, escaped. Then again, Tartarus was hardly better.
Jonathan turned to him. “Tartarus. The secret training realm of the circle lords. And now, apparently, me.”
“How in the name of the gods did you gain access to something that only circle lords can use?”
“Well, technically, I am a circle lord now. However, the real answer is that I impressed Angranor. That, or he was bored, and decided to spice things up a bit. I cannot imagine the mind of a being who has lived for billions of years.”
“Angranor? The Lord of the Hells? That Angranor?” Branth exclaimed. “Most consider him to be a myth. As we never get to leave our circles, some don’t even believe that there is anything else out there anymore.”
“Yes, that Angranor. When your mission is to destroy the Hells, I would assume that its lord would find interest, especially if it seemed like you had a chance.”
“So you’re the Hellbreaker,” the elemental spirit mused. “My brethren, or rather, the other shards of my main body, have heard talk of your rise. Many in the higher planes of Hells seem to court a dangerous sense of hope that you will succeed.”
“How do they even know about me? Aren’t they dozens of planes away from the Ash Heaps, or even Mire?”
“Those in the higher realms have greater levels of freedom, and more importantly, power. It is wise for a circle lord to grant his favored servants greater autonomy, lest he be overthrown by the massed power of a million souls.”
Jonathan frowned. “If that were possible, then why is there any need for a Hellbreaker?”
“Because nobody at that level of power wants to die. They are functionally immortal, and do not wish to relinquish that for a vain hope of rebellion,” the elemental spirit replied.