Jonathan’s tenure as a runecrafter was the one thing that set him apart from everyone else in this universe. While his Void powers could have potentially been unique, he knew that any Outsider had a chance to gain them as well. Going by the lengths that the System had gone to when he had unlocked the ability to use the building blocks of reality, there was little chance that anyone else had even selected the ability. If they had, they were most likely dead.

So far, he had been in the Infinite Hells for a few paltry months, nothing compared to even the lifespan of a mortal. Despite this, he had made great strides in the realm of his runes. Expert Rank was one that normally took years to achieve, but due to his intense focus and unique situation, he had been forced to adapt earlier. Not only with his runes, but with his martial skills and his energy manipulation. Then again, he had already done the impossible in defeating Granth. What was another accolade to add to his legion of such things?

As he closed his status sheet, he held up both of his gauntleted fists, feeling a profound sense of deja vu as he summoned both of his upgraded runes to them. One filled with the scarlet light of blood, war and revenge. The other glowed with a soft luminescence, hiding depths of strength and compulsion that could have brought any number of mortals to their knees. A smile rose to Jonathan’s face as he channeled the raw powers of creation through his arms and into reality. Those same hands that had mere months ago labored around the steering wheel of a truck, monotonous day after monotonous day passing as he did a job that was the 21st century’s version of subsistence farming, living from paycheck to paycheck.

He thought over the choices he could make on his stat sheet, and a fiery resolve filled his mind. “It’s been long enough. The Hells aren’t going to break themselves.”

Those words were spoken so softly that nobody else could hear, but within his soul, a new determination was lit. No longer was simply defeating the circle lords enough. He had to utterly obliterate them. What better way to do that than by fighting them at a lower level? The more struggle that filled his life, the greater his future power would become.

“Hushar? Edgar?” He called out, his voice echoing across the battlefield.

“Yes?” Edgar replied, his voice drifting over the wind.

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“Change of plan. We’re heading for the Oozing Bastion now. Or at least, I am.”

Jonathan’s plan was met with vehement disagreement from the others, especially the lower level soldiers, but he was resolute in his idea. There was no reason for him to wait for his allies to grow in power, while there was a good chance that no matter how strong they became, there would be no hope of victory. Even if all of them reached level 299, the majority were merely average fighters, and could be taken out by overwhelming numbers. Jonathan was the only one who was utterly certain in his ability to defeat almost any number of lower level foes. Besides, a single person would be far easier to sneak into the Oozing Bastion with Slothari present, whereas only the grandest of armies would have a hope at breaching its walls if the circle lord was at home.

The sad truth of the matter was that even with a small army, it would never be enough, not unless hundreds of thousands of Tier 3s flocked to his banner. Delaying in the way that he was would only give his enemy more time to prepare for his arrival. Slothari already knew that he was on his way to the capital, and was no doubt readying herself for his arrival.

“Farewell, Edgar, Eva,” he said as he channeled stamina into his legs. “Watch over your soldiers. I will need your help eventually, but for now, this is a task only I can achieve.”

After a bit of deliberation, he had decided that Hushar was to come with him, more out of consideration for the problems that the fiery Uthraki would have caused had his revenge been stymied. Besides, the man was powerful enough to be a great boon to Jonathan’s efforts. Edgar needed to protect his own soldiers, and Eva. The wind mage was strong enough to defeat almost anyone in the realm, save for Slothari herself. That was a gulf that only Jonathan could cross.

With a grunt, he pushed off, his feet sending tremors through the ground as he channeled his immense strength into forwards momentum. The world blurred around him, and miles passed in the blink of an eye. Hushar followed behind him, unable to fully keep up. Jonathan sighed, and slowed down a little, allowing the Uthraki to cover the distance between them.

For now, simply running was faster than his flight ability. As it was simply an expression of his elemental mastery, and not a skill of its own, it was weaker than it should have been. He had no way to use his stamina to empower it, beyond using Ephemeral Trifecta. All that did was increase the amount of time he could use it for, and not how powerful it was.

With well over fifty thousand points of stamina, he could keep up hypersonic speeds for more than long enough to reach anywhere in this realm. As he went, the wind whipping past him with the force of a hurricane, he smiled. This was his life now, and it was a good one.