He gazed into the depths of the abyss within his soul, focusing on the concepts that he had only begun to grasp. Consumption was like an old friend to him at this point, with him having used it in battle for months, and even possessing a rune for it. Negation, however, was not. Negation to him was the ideal of a peerless defence, able to resist anything with the minimum amount of effect. It was the ability to perfectly match an opponent’s strength, stopping their strike in their tracks with no wasted energy. It was the ability to shield oneself from the terrors of the world, perfectly, and without exception.
Jonathan meditated there for hours, trying to forge a greater connection to the element that had dominated his history as a warrior of the Infinite Hells. The orb that represented his elemental mastery pulsated in the center of his vision like a vast purple eye, gazing endlessly at him. It reminded him of a certain philosopher’s most famous saying, although he was sure that Nietzche would never have expected it to be anything more than a metaphor. Now, though, he was literally gazing into the abyss.
Even his advanced body had limits, though, and his lungs eventually demanded air. He slowly opened his eyes, sucking in a great breath that revitalized him. Without even noticing it, the necrotic storm had passed, leaving him sitting in the center of a dome of elemental energy. He banished his Aegis of the Void’s Dichotomy, and summoned the realm portal once more. Now he could protect his allies from the storms, and Cessation was once more a viable target on the vast game board that he was seeking to conquer.
He stepped into the purple disc of light, and emerged back on the steps leading to the zenith of the Oozing Bastion. His allies were all waiting for him there, standing and talking to one another. A few seemed worried, mainly those who had never seen Jonathan in action before. Eliza was in the middle of a conversation with one of the lower level soldiers, whispering something about how long it was taking Jonathan to return from Cessation. He swore he could hear her saying something about his death, but as soon as he appeared, she stopped talking.
“Well, good news. The storms might keep coming, but I’ve found a way to keep us safe,” Jonathan declared. “However, we’ll have to limit the size of the invasion force, as I can’t protect that many.”
Arkanon frowned. “That will severely hamper us. After all, we won’t be able to make any allies in Cessation. All of the undead are beholden to the Stillborn Hegemon.”
Edgar nodded at this. “We all need to get to Tier 4 as soon as possible. Otherwise, if the storms don’t kill us, the undead will.”
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“I think we should prioritize leveling up those closest to that Tier first,” Jonathan suggested. “It’s more efficient. For example, Edgar, how many levels do you need? I would assume less than ten?”
The mage nodded. “I only need another seven levels.”
Jonathan turned to Arkanon, before remembering something. “Weren’t you already at the peak of Tier 3? Why haven’t you ranked up yet?”
The Uthraki raised an eyebrow. “It is a bad precedent for a leader to have those stronger than him serving beneath him. That is the mark of a petty tyrant, relying on the strength of servants to replace his own lack thereof. If you mean to be a tyrant, at least be good at it.”
Jonathan tilted his head, taken aback slightly. “Oh. I suppose you have a point there. So you’ve been waiting?”
The Uthraki nodded. “I have some things to teach you about rulership, it seems. But yes, I have. Let me tell you, it has not been easy.”
Jonathan nodded, chastised a bit, and then selected the highest level fighters arrayed before him, and Eliza. All of the Uthraki were there, Edgar, Eva, Kendal and some of the upper crust from the Waste Warrens.
The other warriors headed off, dejected, but hopeful. They understood the necessity of such an action, and knew that their turns would come. For now, though, the priority was defeating the Stillborn Hegemon, not bringing everyone up to a mediocre level, rather than a few people to a superlative one.
The portal slid open once more, and Jonathan led his much diminished unit back to Cessation, the drab realm of Death sprawling out before them. They emerged in the same village, with the corpses of the undead still lying on the ground around them.
“Right,” Jonathan said, clapping his hands. “We need to find some useful challenges. Nothing too powerful, but nothing too weak either. If anything over level 350 shows up, we will retreat.”
The others nodded, not questioning him, and they started off into the expanse around them, focusing on a nearby series of small mountains. The mountains were one of the few points of interest in the drab landscape around them, with each of them capped in a cone of snow. At their peaks, small structures stood, clearly ruined by eons of disuse. They looked like temples, but even to Jonathan’s eyes, it was hard to tell.
The group started to march in earnest, each step taking them dozens of feet. Jonathan led them, keeping an eye out for another necrotic storm. Other than that, there were few monsters present. Undead did not breed, and the only way for more to be created was from the deaths of the living. As far fewer people arrived in Cessation than in a place like the Ash Heaps, they were hard to come by.
Even with that distinction, they were still hundreds of miles away from the mountains, and there were a few beasts roaming the plains. Their first challenger was a skeletal lion, easily a dozen times larger than any Earthly counterpart. A mane of tiny bones, strung together by desiccated ligaments cascaded down its back, falling into the holes between its upper ribs. The beast projected an era of faded majesty, of something that while great in life, was but a shell of its former self in death.