“Did you hear?”
“About Young Master Gu and the Follta Clan?”
“How can he keep getting away with shit like this?”
“Because he’s powerful, and his father is even more so. Who would dare go against the Gu family in Lith?”
“Still…to eradicate an entire clan because their young miss didn’t want to marry him is a bit…”
Hushed whispers and drunken discussions echoed across the Gu family’s city, Gum. Despite the Gu family being recognized as a righteous family by the world, the actions of the younger generation were worrying.
Regardless, no one was willing to offend them by raising the issue to their faces. They held too much power and money, after all. It was even rumored they possessed their own sacred pocket-dimension. Many speculated it was the reason behind their unshakable position.
“How is it possible for people to complain so much when they know nothing will ever come of it?” a young man mused to himself. “No matter how many times I hear it, it just never makes sense.”
Fillan Strand was sitting in an opulent hotel room, watching and listening to the bustling city below. Surrounding him were a myriad of floating circles filled with runes, as well as paper reports strewn over his desk.
Information about people’s whereabouts, their actions, and their plans was clearly noted down for him to pursue. The runic circles projected images and sound from different locations with different people matching to the reports’ portraits. This was clearly a very hardcore surveillance operation.
“I swear to god, if I fail again, I’ll try to force myself into their pocket-dimension,” he voiced out loud in clear exasperation. “But three times is the charm…hopefully”
In one of the more prominent runic circles, an arrogant young man adorned in baggy white robes was shouting at one of his seniors. The senior was a near mirror replica of the young man, only considerably older and more mature.
“They deserved to die!” the young man shouted—nearly shrieked—at the top of his lungs. “How dare a peasant reject and humiliate me!?”
“I’ve had enough of your nonsense, Ming!” the senior shouted back with evident power. “I’ve let this slide with only a minor punishment, and yet you dare complain? If you don’t come out of the pocket-dimension as a new man, I'll kill you myself.”
On that note, the young man was pushed by a seemingly invincible force out of the ornate hall. Once outside, he turned to his entourage, before giving them his orders.
“Ting, go fetch the allocated members. Harald, begin the competition and make sure it’s finished before I get there. Moore, did you get into contact with any talented mages?”
The subordinates with orders hurriedly left, while Moore pulled out a jade stick which he handed to his young master.
“This has the information about the five mages I reached out to. Their academic information, accomplishments, perceived personalities, and most importantly, their actions in the city, is all on here, Master.”
“I don’t care about all that!” he complained. “Tell me about the best prospect, and why you chose him!”
“As you wish. I personally assumed that Mr. Lewis would be the best option amongst those interested, but he might be a little too arrogant for your liking and purposes.
Instead, I found a promising young man about the same age as you, Master. He is immensely talented, has great accomplishments, abhors weaklings, and most importantly, seems very supportive of your actions against the Follta Clan.
He even publicly defended you when slandered. Yet, not once, did he appear arrogant enough to think he was better than you. In my opinion, you should choose him, Master.”
“Good job, Moore,” Mind Gu congratulated. “What’s the mage’s name?”
“Fillan Strand, Master.”
“Very well, bring him over immediately.”
…
“You fucking better bring me over, you rotten bastards,” Fillan shouted at the magic circle. “If that fat degenerate Lewis got the position again, I’d have killed him on the spot.”
With much relief, Fillan slumped into his chair, while dispelling the miscellaneous magic circles. The papers on the desk suddenly combusted into ash, which floated seamlessly out the window.
Fillan continued to relax in the chair until someone knocked on his door.
“Let’s do this!
…
“It’s an honor to finally meat the great Ming Gu,” Fillan exclaimed while cupping his fist to show his utmost sincerity. Subservience is a must when seeking something from deranged, power-hungry men-children.
“It really is, isn’t it?” Ming Gu responded with haughtiness.
Ming was always surrounded by praise and fawning from cultivators and body temperers, so a mage behaving like this in front of him felt incredibly novel.
“I like you…what was your name again?” he asked stupidly.
“It’s Fillan Strand, Young Master Gu,” Fillan forced himself to say.
‘I get being arrogant, but he heard my name less than five minutes ago; how is it possible to forget so quickly?’
“Right! I like you, Fillan Strand. You’re not like the other mages I’ve seen before, or those who fawn on me for benefit. You seem to genuinely appreciate me. If you can prove yourself in the pocket-dimension, I wouldn’t mind handing over the other subordinates’ shares to you. That’s how generous I am!”
“I promise not to let you down, Young Master Gu.”
When Fillan was about to act out some more bullshit, a group of young men and women came waltzing towards them. They’re self confidence was nowhere near that of Ming Gu, but they were clearly difficult to deal with.
“Hey, Ming,” the leading young man said. He showed no regard for Ming Gu’s temper or status, clearly viewing them as equal. Something he didn’t reciprocate.
“It’s ‘Ming Gu’ to you, Keven Trill. This is not your local brothel, you best behave yourself here,” Ming threatened.
“It might as well be. After all, I’m talking to a big fucking whore right now, aren’t I?” Keven chided.
“You dare speak to me like that when your mother is famous for taking it three at a time!?”
"Says you! Where the fuck is your mother? Oh, that’s right, she abandoned you when she saw your ugly toad face! Who knows what she’s doing now!”
“I’ll kill you—”
Just as the two young masters were about to duke it out, a bolt of lightning appeared out of nowhere, only to strike Keven Trill flat onto the ground.
“Looks like the heavens don’t appreciate your disrespect, Young Master Keven,” Fillan Strand said incredulously from behind Ming Gu. His acting was almost perfect, with the exception of his obvious smirk.
There was no doubt in Keven’s mind where the lightning came from. Despite it flooring him, he was uninjured. It was clearly just a warning to avoid a fight, meaning he couldn't do anything about it since he was in the wrong for starting the confrontation in the first place.
One of the older people walking behind the group stepped up, before giving a bow to Ming Gu, and apologizing on behalf of Keven.
“I’m deeply sorry, Young Master Gu. I should have stopped little Keven before he stepped out of line.”
“It’s fine, just do your job better. Who knows what would have happened if my mage didn’t just warn him?”
“Indeed. On that note, may I ask who this esteemed mage is? I don’t think I’ve heard of someone so young and powerful before.”
The old protector was clearly eying Fillan wearily. Mages usually did not radiate any form of pressure, making identifying their prowess difficult. Fillan could either be a newbie apprentice whose lightning spell was the extent of his prowess, or he could be powerful enough to level the entire city with one spell. He was not willing to take a risk and reprimand a magician he didn’t know of.
“My name is Fillan Strand, I studied at Hew’s Academy,” Fillan responded with a completely neutral voice.
‘It’s better if they fear me a little.’
The eyes of the old protector widened slightly upon hearing his answer, before quickly bowing again.
“So it’s the esteemed Fire-storm Psychic! I’ve long heard of your prodigious name.”
The old man took a deep breath, before hoisting Keven up from the ground with a pair of invisible hands.
“Apologise to Mr. Fillan Strand,” he commanded with force. He would not take no for an answer.
“Why would I apologize to him, he just attacked me—”
Before he could finish his statement, a heavy and calloused hand landed flat on his cheek, sending ripples across his entire face.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Strand. My nephew was born a little slower than most, please don’t take offense,” the old man pleaded, shocking most of those present.
“It’s not me he should apologize to anyway, it’s Young Master Gu,” Fillan deflected.
There was a required balance between being feared by the others, and not encroaching on the authority Ming Gu desired. A balance between dominance and subservience.
"Apologize to Young Master Gu!”
“I’m sorry,” Keven mumbled with his swollen face.
“You better be! If my mage didn't stop us, you’d be in way worse shape,” Ming retorted with clear emphasis on who the mage was working for. Despite being stupid and arrogant, Ming Gu understood Fillan was more impressive than he previously thought, based on the old man’s actions.
“Maybe I should take a look at the jade stick after all,” he thought to himself.
“Everyone, we’ll go to the arena and announce the results,” he continued out loud. “Your protectors and elders can go to the pavilion behind the main hall, where my clan's elders are waiting for you. No one would dare harm us in Gum, so there is no need for you to follow us.”
Without caring for agreement or opposition, Ming Gu, along with Moore and Fillan began walking towards the direction of the city’s amphitheater. Whether the rest followed didn’t seem to concern Ming as he held his hand towards Moore, demanding the jade stick.
Upon channeling his qi into it, he found the information he cared to know.
Fillan Strand: A previous top student at Hew’s Academy, was expelled for crippling the headmaster after a confrontation. Despite trying with all their might, even the combined forces of all the school's professors were unable to bring him down. It was only after they received help from the capital that he was finally driven away.
It is estimated, with the level of the headmaster and the professors, that Fillan Strand is a Conduit mage with a vast repertoire of spells, who vastly surpasses other Conduits.
According to rumors, the mage from the capital actually didn’t care about what Fillan did, and even tried to recruit him, only to be harshly rejected. Unable to control his fury, but not willing to harm someone with such talent, he barred Fillan from the Magical Society, resulting in him conducting research on his own.
He is renowned for visiting a great number of pocket-dimensions in search of material, information, and general ruins.
With childlike interest, he turned back to face Fillan while walking.
“Are Conduit mages powerful?” he asked without malice.
He was clearly mentally unstable, but for his emotions and attention to shift this quickly surprised even Fillan, someone who spent more than a decade studying him.
“Well, it depends on who you ask. It also depends on the mage’s species,” Fillan admitted with a matching level of interest and excitement.
“What? Why!? Explain!” he shouted, clearly confused and annoyed again.
‘This damned unpredictable brat!’
“Human mages have grown complacent over the years, and think of themselves superior to everything and everyone. Whether it’s cultivators, body temperers, dragons or elves, they’d never admit they’re someone’s lesser.”
Fillan paused momentarily to let it set in, and judge whether Ming wanted him to continue or not, which he did.
“Conduits can have a near autonomous, and instantaneous transmutation of mana into what their spells require, letting them cast spells faster, and more efficiently. Dragons and elves only acknowledge a mage to have reached this level when they can do this with every single one of their spells, while humans only need one. Thus, any haphazard fool can become a human “Conduit”.
Not everyone agree with this, like me, but it increases humanity’s authority to announce a greater number of “powerful” mages, so nothing can be done about it.”
“Which level are you at, then?” Ming asked without a care if it was invasive or not.
The other people, who followed behind, perked their ears when the question was asked. The answer would determine how they’d treat Fillan in the future. If he was weak, then they’d treat him as such, if he was powerful, then they would fawn as much as possible. Mages were great allies, after all.
“I’m a Semi-Conduit,” Fillan answered without a care, readying his answer to the question he knew was coming.
“What does that mean,” the foolish young master followed, as predicted.
“It means I have formed conduits with most of my current spells, but I’m not satisfied with the number of them, and I continuously add more. Only when I’m satisfied will I be able to call myself a true Conduit.
However, Young Master Gu, my level belittles my power. I assure you I’ll be of great help in the pocket-dimension.”
Almost everyone of the young masters and misses behind pulled out means of communications, through which they sent messages to their elders at the Gu manor, or even at home. They couldn’t quite tell if Fillan was to be feared or not, and thus needed outside confirmation.
“Hmmm,” Ming Gu hummed in thought. “I don’t doubt you’ll be of help, but I need to know how powerful you are. Can you give your equivalent cultivation prowess?”
“A normal combat oriented Conduit is probably equivalent to a Golden Specter/Soul Fusion expert, depending on their spells' variety and power,” Fillan answered slowly, to build tension and interest. “I hate to toot my own horn, but I’d put myself somewhere around a completed Soul Fusion expert.”
Gasps echoed from everyone present, including Young master Ming Gu, who was only at the Golden Core stage himself.
“Didn’t Moore say he was around my age!?” he thought incredulously. “I need to give him a spanking for lying to me later.”
“Then you’ll definitely be of great help, Fillan,” Ming Gu expressed with great happiness.
The only rule for who he could bring into the pocket-dimension was that he must use his own means to convince them. With someone as powerful as Fillan Strand, he was bound to receive far more resources than his predecessors before him.
The pocket-dimension was cultivation oriented, but also had a level cap at the peak of Golden Core/Sanguine Core, disallowing those higher from entering. Mages didn’t apply to this rule, meaning they could technically bring in Dominators without issue. However, there was little of worth for them inside, and a Golden Core—even if from the Gu Clan—had limited resources to spend. Meaning they simply couldn’t afford powerful mages to cheat the system. Until now.
“I hope this won’t come of as rude, Mr. Strand,” a voice echoed from behind. “But why would someone as powerful as you want to enter a pocket-dimension for Golden Cores?”
Ming Gu stared daggers at the one who asked the question: a plain woman. She didn’t appear extraordinary in the slightest, so much so that Ming Gu didn’t even know which family she came from. Yet she dared question his mage?
“How dare you question his intentions! Moore, remove her from the entrance list!” Ming shouted towards his poor servant, who was put in a difficult position. The Patriarch arranged for her entry, so how could he do that?
However, it quickly became apparent, he wouldn’t need to do anything.
“Eek”
A harrowing shriek erupted from the plain woman as her eyes popped fully out of her head, only to land in the nearby koi pond. Her ears and nose were bleeding profusely, while she rolled around on the ground in unbearable agony.
“Do you think you and Young Master Gu are the same?” Fillan coldly questioned the woman. “You are not fit to question me about anything, much less my intentions. Be relieved I’m leaving you with your life intact.”
As soon as he finished, the young woman passed out. It was unknown if it was due to the pain, or if Fillan did something more.
The entire ordeal was confusing, and above all, fear inducing. To everyone except one person: Ming Gu.
Ming could swear he had never been this elated in his whole life. Not only did he receive the help of an incredibly powerful mage, which would elevate his reputation and power, the mage was also incredibly respectful of him. Fillan valued him enough to answer all his stupid and invasive questions, but brutally tortured the woman who simply questioned his intentions. He felt giddy just thinking about it.
“This! This is what friendship at first sight is!” Ming thought in ecstasy. “I’ve finally found someone who understands me, and thinks the same way I do.”
“Should we proceed, Young Master Gu?” Fillan questioned with sincerity and respect in his tone. “It is unsightly to be near such a weakling, don’t you think?”
“Agreed!”
‘Despite being unpredictable, I still know you better than you know yourself. Manipulating you is way too easy, you little bastard. I’ll be damned if I let fourteen years of hard work, research, and meticulous planning go down the drain now.’
…
“I hope you don’t take offense, Young Master Gu, but I must ask nonetheless; what was the point in bringing along the three tournament winners?” Fillan asked the hopeful Ming Gu.
They were currently standing in the deepest and most well protected area of the Gu Clan’s estate. The room was bare with only an old, shabby-looking stone arch standing in the middle of the room. Occasionally, sparks would erupt from runes engraved on its inside rim. It was like they were trying to light a fire, but couldn’t quite do it. At least not yet.
“Argh, I know right?” Ming sighed. “Those peasants are barely capable of breathing, why should I have to bring them to obtain treasures? It’s my stupid father and our clan’s rules that forced me to do it. Apparently it stabilizes our position as righteous, and cements the peasants' beliefs in us.”
“That’s why I’ve never liked politics.” Fillan lamented. “What point is there in pleasing the masses when they’re all so weak? Grow strong or die, don’t make my life more boring.”
“Exactly!” Ming shouted with vigor and enthusiasm unbefitting the topic. “Weaklings are all toys. Toys are made to be played with, not rebel against their owner. I shouldn’t have to placate my toys, and since they belong to me, I should be allowed to do whatever I want to them!”
“Young Master Gu, did your father mention anything about keeping them safe for the entire expedition? These are precarious ruins where anything can happen, after all.”
“Now that I think about it, he only told me I can’t kill them. So…if they trip and die in a trap, that would probably be fine, don’t you think?”
“Sigh, it would be such a shame if that were to happen,” Fillan exclaimed with palpable sarcasm and grandeur.
Just as they were about to continue their twisted, but hushed conversation, the arch’s sparks finally did their job, conjuring a purely white liquid-like substance.
“Shall we, Young Master Gu,” Fillan proposed to Ming, while holding his hand
forward in a gentlemanly manner.
“I’ll be in your hands, Fillan!” he agreed before running straight through the portal, with Fillan hot on his trail.
While those two were excited, the rest of the youths, and one old man—one of the tournament winners—were nervous as hell. Just because their conversation was hushed, didn't mean they tried to hide it. Everyone in the room could clearly hear them. However, they couldn’t do anything about it.
The door was shut, and would remain so until Ming Gu returned. Thus, they couldn’t escape. There was a lack of qi in the room and since all their spatial rings were confiscated before entering, they would eventually starve if they stayed there. They had no choice but to enter the portal and walk towards certain doom.
“They only mentioned the tournament winners, do you think there’s a chance they won’t touch us?” a woman asked the group.
“Are you fucking stupid!?” came her answer. “Did you not see what that freak mage did to Melinda? He views all of us equally!”
“He’s right!” echoed another. “I asked my grandfather about who Fillan Strand was, and if I should be afraid of him, and he revealed extremely troubling information to me.”
She took a little breather to calm her nerves a little, before continuing.
“Fillan Strand is one of the most wanted people in all of Garth, but because he’s so powerful, no one really dares go after him. Do any of you remember the Triple Alliance? Apparently, he’s the one who exterminated them overnight!”
“Then why didn’t you say anything, Secill!?” shouted the trembling Keven Trill who kept quiet until now. “I would have run the fuck away if I knew this!”
“I was going to, but then that happened to Melinda, and I-I… panicked; I’m sorry!”
Secill was close to tears from all the shouts coming at her. How was it her fault some maniacs were going to kill them!?
“Maybe if we prove ourselves useful, and give over everything we get in there, they might leave us alive,” mumbled an aloof man, mostly to himself.
With that thought in mind, he ran into the portal, disappearing from view. Slowly, with much reluctance, so did the others.
…
“I heard from your servant, Moore, that there are a total of six different paths in here, and you can only choose three of them before the others are locked, is that true?”
“Yes,” Ming responded in deep thought.
“I hope I’m not overstepping any boundaries, but there are three paths I think would provide the perfect tools for your growth. If Moore’s information was correct, then the Sword, Finger, and Manifestation paths would be optimal.
They all synergize extremely well, and given the spiritual pressure I can feel from you, Young Master Gu, you have the capability of pushing them to their extremes.”
“I knew you’d understand, Fillan! That’s what I thought as well, but my father said since they’re the most difficult paths, I wouldn’t stand a chance of clearing a combined ten challenges.”
“With all due respect, but your father must be bitter in his old age. You have talent and determination! As long as you want to do something, you can. Who is he to stop you from becoming a dragon amongst men?”
Having his best friend clarify things to him in such a way really opened Ming Gu’s eyes to the despicable worm his father was, cementing his decision. He would shock everyone with his accomplishments! Well, other than Fillan Strand who recognized his greatness from the very beginning.
While the two were having their little moment, the portal began to ripple as people stepped through.
When everyone finally appeared, Fillan turned to them with a little scare, “Did you hesitate to enter the opportunity Young Master Gu has provided you? How ungrateful can you possibly be?”
“No, no, no!” shouted the aloof man with as much emotion he could. “We discussed how we could be the most useful for Young Master—no—future Patriarch Gu. We all agreed that whatever we obtain here should naturally belong to the most capable, which is obviously future Patriarch Gu. Don’t worry, we will be willing to lay our lives down to help you!”
“Why are you putting so much emphasis on Young Master Gu becoming patriarch? There is no need to state the obvious, especially not when it’s ass kissing.”
Fillan was a true demon in these kids' eyes. No matter what they said or did, he always put them in a bad spot. The fact he could kill them over the most minute of slights didn’t help either. Every second around him felt like their last. It would be really interesting if they found out he was simply putting on an act.
‘Scaring kids is always enjoyable!’
“Fillan, we’ll do what you said,” Ming told the reveling Fillan. “Which path should we begin with? I know Manifestation should come last, of course.”
“Fingers are often used as human swords, meaning a deeper understanding of swords would be greatly beneficial for the path. In turn, manifesting a sword with the help of fingers is also much easier. Learning the other way would work, but it is simply turning worse to worst.
“Everyone, we’re going to the Sword, then Finger, and finally Manifestation paths, in that order!”
With the command, the group of twenty six—would’ve been twenty seven if not for Fillan—exited the tiny hut they appeared in.
Unlike the cheap entrance building, the outside was a giant castle-like construct made out of pure marble. If not for the dim purple-lit sky, void of constellations, they’d be constantly blinded by the castle's reflective properties.
The hut was in the middle of a giant circular square with six different gates, all leading towards tall and prevalent towers. Every gate possessed a duo of statues representing what their path would entail. Giant fingers, swords, torches, waves, birds, and finally orbs. Hence their names, Finger, Sword, Fire, Water, Beast, and Manifestation paths.
The marble ground had different runes, circles, and menial engravings on them, all which told Fillan this was a giant formation. What it did, he had no idea, but he knew it was definitely important for something.
“Young Master Gu, please avoid stepping on the circles with only one engraving in the center, they’re suspicious,” Fillan informed Ming Gu as they made their way over to the giant sword statues.
“Are you sure?” Ming asked with hesitation. “I’ve never heard of something like that from my father.”
“Although I don’t know what they do, I know it’s not something beneficial to you, Young Master,” he answered with confidence. “It wouldn’t be strange for your father not to know, since there is no way a Colden Core without comprehensive formation knowledge could identify their oddity.
If I may speculate Young Master, I assume stepping on the circles will attach some manner of energy onto the person, which will have an unknown effect. It could make the trials harder, but I’m confident they won’t become easier. After you’ve completed your three paths, we could experiment with the baggage, but before that we should be careful. I might be powerful, but I’m far from omnipotent.”
“Understood!” Ming acknowledged before bellowing to the “baggage”, “Don’t any of you dare step near the circles with only one engraving on them! If you do, you’re dead! Fucking vermin!
Ming Gu spat heavily on the ground after saying that. His dislike for the other entries growing by the second. The thing they said about giving him everything they got really irked him. How could they get anything better than second rate garbage? Why would he want leftovers from the main meal, his meal?
With that mentality, the group carefully inched towards their goal. Barely five minutes later, they stood by the sword gate.
Despite the white marble castle, the insides of the gate were impossible to make out: it was darker than the abyss. It was an incredibly eerie contrast that sent shivers down most of the group members’ spines.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
“Every gate has three tiers,” Ming suddenly began to monologue. “The first tier accepts three people, the second six, and the third eighteen. Obviously, me and Fillan will enter the first tier. The rest of the slots were decided by the elders before you entered, so you know where to go.
However, the arrogance and ignorance of a stinking, rotten fucking bitch has resulted in a vacancy. That means Keven will stick with the tier two path, rather than the original tier one. Any complaints? No? That’s what I thought.”
Turning around, Ming began to walk towards the infinite darkness with pure unfounded confidence. Fillan hurriedly walked after, and they soon disappeared from sight.
The rest of the group began to bicker and complain about different grievances and whatnot, before they realized the consequences of not obtaining anything good from the paths. They scampered in quickly after that.
…
After walking for what felt like hours, the darkness around Fillan and Ming began to subside. In its place was a completely unexpected long hallway, seemingly without end.
The reason the hallway was unexpected was its architecture. Instead of conforming to the marble castle, it looked like it belonged in a buddhist monastery. There were pillars extending all along the path, with windows placed intermittently.
Instead of the windows showing something, or being of any immediate relevance, they only gave glimpses into perpetual darkness. There didn’t appear to be anything there, but when Fillan looked intently, he discovered the darkness—on occasion—shifted ever so slightly. It was so miniscule Ming couldn't notice it, but it happened nonetheless.
“Young Master, do you know if time plays a part in the rewards you receive?” Fillan asked after retreating from the window. There was no need to mess with the unknown.
“It does,” he responded lightly, before following up with expectation, “Do you want to clear it for me?”
“If you allow me, I’d be more than happy to. From what Moore told me, it seems only the rewards matter, not the way of clearing the paths. So me speeding through to get you the best rewards would be the optimal way of doing things.”
“Perfect!” Ming squealed like a little girl. “Just remember that there are both challenges and traps.”
“Don’t worry Young Master, I’ve already detected all the traps in the first kilometer, there should be no surprises for us. Although, there is a force restricting my spell beyond that point,” Fillan said before floating off the ground. “Please don’t mind this, it’s all for efficiency. “
On that note, Ming began floating next to him.
Flying was something that only became possible at the Golden/Sanguine Specter realm, no matter the techniques used. Thus, most of the traps were made obsolete as they zoomed through the nightmarish hallway.
Only after they traveled one kilometer did something change. In their path was a flying sword. It looked bland and completely ordinary, but demanded respect from those who saw it. It was a weird instinctive feeling one couldn't quite understand.
Regardless, Fillan couldn’t give less of a fuck about respect and whatnot, he simply summoned a massive lightning bolt—big enough to cover the entire path—which erased all traces of the sword. And the two another kilometer away, and the three at the next, and then the four. Long story short, Fillan could now sense up to a hundred kilometers of the hallway, meaning the challenges’ swords were completely decimated.
“What is your family’s record on the Sword path?” Fillan asked Ming.
“Hmmm, I think my grandfather broke the record with thirty three kilometers?” he answered, unsure of himself. His grandfather was a piece of shit weakling, advocating for the betterment of ordinary people, why would he care about his accolades?
“Young Master, I think it will take a very long time to clear this path…I’ve already finished the challenges up to one hundred, but it’s probably far from done. At every kilometer, the amount of swords increased all the way to ninety-nine, but the hundredth has only one sword again. I’m afraid this will continue to repeat itself.”
In a stupor over how powerful his best friend was, Ming questioned Fillan on if they could travel faster than they already were. To which the answer was a resounding yes, if he could stomach some discomfort. Fillan wasn’t a wind magician, after all. He could use Float, and he could propel himself forward with fire to enormous speeds, but the air resistance would hurt like a bitch.
Ming already felt slightly bad about not doing any of the work, and agreed to not waste his bestie’s time simply traveling.
“Young Master Gu, I recommend closing your mouth and eyes with all your strength. It might be difficult, but it’s better than having your eyes become dryer than a desert, and your face tearing in two.”
With that not at all terrifying piece of advice, Fillan positioned himself and Ming perfectly horizontal to the ground, before a truly ginormous fire appeared behind the soles of their feet.
Instantaneously they breached the speed of sound. After Fillan saw Ming’s Golden Core cultivation could handle it nicely, the fire, rather than becoming bigger, compressed itself. They quickly doubled, then tripled their speeds.
Ming began to struggle around one kilometer per second, so Fillan kept their speed steady around there. What would have taken ages with their original speed was covered in ninety-nine seconds.
Rather than stop, and then have to accelerate again, Fillan fired another giant lightning bolt, but with much more power, and fired it at the uniquely powerful sword in their way.
It was clear Fillan overestimated the strength of these new swords, as they were not much more durable than the previous ones, only slightly more intelligent. Not a positive upgrade when you're about to be destroyed by near heavenly lightning.
Fillan was completely correct in his original assessment, and the same system repeated itself, only he didn’t need to attack again this time. The second lightning bolt slaughtered its way far into the three fifties, resulting in a long—and boring—flight.
…
Looking to his right, Ming was completely exhausted, and clearly needed respite from the continuous flying. As such, the flames beneath their feet disappeared, only for Fillan to turn them both around, and conjure new, much weaker flames to decelerate them. After a few seconds, they came to a complete stop.
Once Fillan let Ming down on the floor, he completely collapsed.
“How can the path be this long!? Ming groaned. “There is no way human beings at the Golden Core realm could ever make it this far, even if they spent their entire lives here.”
“It does seem very excessive…” Fillan agreed. “Young Master Gu, to be completely honest, I just don’t understand the purpose of this place. A perpetual hallway with swords of ever increasing sentience and power, which gives rewards upon completion? I’ve never encountered something this bizarre in my life.”
‘Oops, almost said lives.’
“My family doesn’t understand it either, but we know it’s unfathomably valuable. Just the rewards for clearing ten stages on the sword path gives you a Heaven grade sword, the memory crystal of an Earth grade technique, and a multitude of pills. It can allow a normal Golden Core without much talent to reach the Soul Fusion stage in a few years without issues. Not to mention that they’d be stronger than most of their opponents.
I can’t even begin to imagine what type of divine rewards we’ll receive from…just how many challenges did you clear?”
Unsure of the answer himself, Fillan activated one of his psychic spells to read his own memories.
“It appears, this was nr. 2049…Young Master, I think you’ll be able to ascend with little difficulty. Forget the other paths, this alone is probably worth countless times more than everything on and connected to Graaryll. I don’t know what this place is, who made it, what it’s for, or how your family got a hold of it. But what I do know is that you must never reveal it to anyone. Not before you ascend, and most definitely not after, or calamity will strike our world. I don’t care about the weaklings, but I do care about myself, and the planet which has provided me with everything I need to grow. Young Master Gu, please promise me you wont tell anyone of this, no matter what.”
‘This place is fucking unholy. The thing I came here for is probably used to decorate a pebble garden somewhere. I was going to use Ming to get in and get out, before killing the vile bastard, but there is no way I can kill my greatest benefactor. Even my twisted morals can’t accept that.’
“No, I refuse!” Ming stated with an unwavering gaze.
“May I ask why, Young Master Gu? Have I done something to upset you, or—” before Fillan could finish his Shakespearean monologue, he was very rudely interrupted.
“Why would it matter what happens to Graaryll, my family, or even this place when we’re both going to become overlords in the Immortal Realm? You think I wouldn’t bring my best friend with me? My best friend who actually obtained everything? I’m not greedy enough not to realize the only thing I’ve contributed to this entire thing was an entrance. We should share fifty-fifty, like brothers ought to.”
“Young Master Gu…” Fillan meeked out with crocodile tears forming. However, he almost didn’t need to force them,
‘What fifty-fifty?! You just admitted to being a doorman, while I did everything else; what kind of delusion is an equal split?’
“Enough!” Ming commanded with renewed vigor and enthusiasm. “Don’t be so touched, you’ve more than earned it. Now, how many more challenges do you think there are?”
“It’s difficult to say, Young Master—”
“Ming, or Brother Ming if you want,” the brat interrupted again.
“Well, Brother Ming, based on the ninety-nine cycle, and the fact we’ve already passed a thousand challenges, we’ll probably need to pass the ten thousand mark at the minimum, and the million mark at the maximum. I see no possible way for there to be more than a million challenges, and if there were, we’d both probably become reality bending beings on the spot.”
“The rewards are great, but I can’t escape the feeling that this is Hell,” Ming joked. Kind of. Maybe not?
“Well, we have been flying at breakneck speeds for almost two and a half days now… if we really need to reach ten thousand, it would be about ten more. I don’t even want to think of the million,” Fillan revealed.
“Has it really? It was uncomfortable and boring, but it didn’t feel that long.”
“I agree, if I go by my gut feeling, I’d say we’ve been in here for about a few hours at most, but the distance and our speed don’t lie. It might be because everything is so repetitive that we zoned out.”
“Is there a way you can go faster?” Ming asked with hope in his voice, only to be doused with the cold, hard reality of the situation.
“Brother Ming, although a kilometer per second is sustainable for your body, going even a little faster could seriously damage your constitution. That would take time to amend, and we’d be stuck here even longer.”
“Hmmm, I heard from my father that his companion got injured around challenge nineteen, and had to stay behind,” Ming revealed. “When my father decided to retreat on a later challenge—he didn’t specify—he appeared at the gate with the injured guy. Doesn’t that mean you could leave me here, and go ahead by yourself?
Obviously this was something Fillan considered a long, long, long time ago, but ultimately decided against. From the square, he could see the paths lead to different castle towers, meaning this hallway probably has an end. It was impossible to know whether Ming would appear at the finish line, or back at the gate, meaning Fillan might inadvertently obtain all the rewards.
Which would naturally be great, but the longer he spent in the hallway, the more insidious he found his situation. Fillan was certain that there were things in the darkness outside the windows, and he was certain someone—or something—was watching him.
Thinking logically for even half a second told Fillan there must be a reason only a Gu Clan member can truly open the passage, and why only Gu members—and their chosen—could enter the first tier paths. Abandoning Ming here was almost like having the owner of a house wait by the entrance, go rob the house, and then never come back. Which didn’t bother Fillan the slightest, but when he thought of the owner’s wife’s divine power, which could pulverize him in a second, he rained himself back into line.
“I could never do that to you, Brother Ming!” Fillan shouted with camaraderie heavy in his tone. “We’re in this together. As brothers.”
A radiant smile bloomed on Ming’s toad face—yes, Keven was simply making an observation—before he begged Fillan to start their long and arduous journey.
—3000
—4000
—5000—break
—6000
—7000
—8000—break
—9000
—9999
“Brother Ming, this is the moment that decides our destinies,” Fillan warned. “Thus, I feel it imperative we pray to whatever made this place, that it truly does end at ten thousand. If not…”
Fillan shivered at the sheer thought of traveling ten times, or even a hundred times longer than they already did. They’d been in the air for more than eleven and a half days, any more would kill his spirit. Magic wasn’t an effortless affair, after all.
Fillan might have made it seem like a breeze but the constant use of floating, fire, and lightning spells took a toll on his mind. Not to mention the ruthless drain on his mana. His circuitry made the expenditure far more forgiving, but it was still extreme.
If it wasn’t for his Hadal mana well, and the few scraps of mana in the qi dominated hallway, he’d long run dry.
‘Every single one of my talents were the worst of the worst garbage, except my mana well. Who’d think it would actually come in handy one day?’
As Fillan reminisced about his distant first life rather than praying like he said he would, Ming lost patience, and pulled him back to the present—or past, depending on how you look at it.
“Brother, it’s time for us to welcome greatness!” he proclaimed with one fist in the air, and the other behind his back, like some wannabe expert.
“Wait, Brother Ming, before we do this, I think we need to talk about the other paths…” Fillan made himself sound very serious, something he didn’t like doing with this man-child, lest he revoked “brother” status, and degraded him to “peasant.”
“Fuck, I didn’t even think of the other paths!” he admitted. “But surely there’s no way they’re as long as this one, right?”
With a more somber and sad voice, Fillan countered, “I think there is a very real possibility they are either longer, or so considerably more difficult than the sword path. Even if it’s shorter, I don’t think the Manifestation challenges can be beat hundreds at a time with lightning bolts.”
“Well, you have a point… the Manifestation challenges you with manifestations that can only be countered by other manifestations,” Ming admitted. “You’ve told me you have next to no cultivation and body tempering, leaving you unable to contribute much there… since magic doesn’t work”
“That’s exactly what I was afraid of!” Fillan said. “Let me guess, your family has never reached the end of it either; what’s the record?”
“Seven…” he responded in a voice so meek and low, Fillan genuinely couldn’t hear what he said.
“What, I couldn't hear you,” he told Ming with as much honesty and comfort he could fit into his voice, so as not to confuse the lunatic.
“Seven,” he mumbled more clearly.
“In the name of all that is holy, please do not insist on going there after we’re done. I know, I know what I said about Sword, Finger, and Manifestation and synergy and all that, but we could very well be stuck for years if we go there. Promise me, please! I beg of you Brother Ming.”
“Okay! I promise,” he acquiesced. “Now, let’s go get those rewards. If they were not worth it, I say we destroy the entire path. Even if it takes years to do so.”
“You bet we’d need to destroy the bastard!”
With little effort, Fillan easily destroyed the fully sentient swords in their way. Despite becoming more sentient and stronger after every ninety-nine kilometers, the swords only amounted to a peak Colden Specter realm expert in durability. Whether their attack was stronger or not was completely irrelevant because they never got near enough for the swords to react..
With the ninety-nine swords turned to dust, the duo, instead of flying, decided tacitly to walk the—hopefully—last kilometer.
They didn’t talk, they barely breathed. It felt like they were walking towards their deaths. This was the deciding factor between heaven and hell. If the rewards were otherworldly, this would be the path to divinity, something so sacred they’d never say another negative thing about it. If the rewards were lacking, they might truly spend the rest of their lives trying to tear it down.
As time passed, they slowly made their way before another sword.
Different from the other swords on the path, this one was no longer simple, yet sentient and powerful. It was engraved with beautiful runes and beasts, with the most prominent being a sword-tailed phoenix. Fillan had never even heard of something like that, yet the mere aura from that one engraving made it hard for him to breathe.
Deciding it was best to look away, he caught Ming doing the same. After locking eyes, Fillan took time to prepare for the attack. While the sword and engravings were beautiful and impressive, it might be deceptive. He wasn’t willing to take any risks though, so to work he went.
Being a Semi-Circuit mage—as he called himself—Fillan could instantly transmute his mana into three different simple spells, or one advanced one. Even this was only possible due to his Hadal mana well that allowed for different strings of mana passing through at once. But he could still push it a little further if he did things manually.
Through introspection, Fillan “gazed” at his beautiful soul. Hundreds of small runes covered the entirety of his right arm, leaving not a speck of area unused. His chest and back both held giant mazes of lines, imagery, runes, and dots. Not only were they incredibly complex, but were also partially constructed from simple and advanced individual spells, making the result even more impressive.
With a lot of willpower and concentration, Fillan directed his mana out of the mana well and towards the engraving on his chest. There was a reason this spell was labeled by him as Divine, because mana didn’t flow naturally through this. At every step, he would need to guide the multitude of different strings to alter their trajectory by minor degrees. It reached a point where hundreds of strings were in different parts of the maze, all while he was controlling their every move.
After almost twenty minutes, which didn’t give justice to the effort he put in, Fillan finally covered the entire engraving with mana, and by willing it, it circled once, allowing the mana to become transmuted. One single mistake would turn the different strands into the different spells in the maze, completely ruining his efforts. Luckily, it all went well.
“Brother Ming, are you ready to see why they call me the Fire-storm Psychic? Are you ready to see why even Garth’s most powerful mage, a semi-Dominator, ran with his tail tucked between his legs when he saw me?”
With no lack of awe and interest, Ming looked at his only brother with absolute trust. Despite Fillan’s haggard appearance, despite the sweat oozing out of him, despite the clear exhaustion, Ming knew he would witness something truly amazing.
“Behold, Brother Ming, Divinity incarnate!” Fillan shouted with as much gusto he could. “Divine spell, Plasmatic Annihilator!”
A semi-translucent sphere appeared in front of the two boys. It was a divine white in color, while flares and lightning were constantly flickering on its surface. It didn’t affect Fillan, but Ming Gu felt an intense pain just from staring at it. It felt like his brain was slowly, but surely, melting.
Before that could happen, the sphere enlarged to it barely fit in the hallway, before disappearing.
Ming wondered what the fuck just happened, only to realize something was very wrong. The sword that was blocking their path was nowhere to be seen!
A heat so unfathomable it threatened to erase him from existence was just about to consume him, when Fillan appeared in front of him and cast a barrier.
“Fillan, what is happening!?” he shouted at the top of his lungs.
“Greatness, Brother Ming, greatness,” he answered with limitless pride.
Fillan died almost seventy times just crafting this spell, and two more perfecting it. This was the manifestation of his years of hard work and suffering, and one of the only benefits of being stuck in a time loop.
He himself had to admit he was a born mage, not by talent, but by twisted fate. Whenever he engraved something successfully on his soul, it carried over to his “new” beginning. This allowed him to attempt things others could only dream off.
But maybe just as monstrously, with certain conditions, all his dog water talent could become better after he dies. Whether it was body tempering talent, or his aptitudes, they all improved drastically depending on what he did and accomplished.
His original broken fire aptitude turned into a solid fire aptitude after being burnt to death by dragon fire—not on purpose of course. When he broke mind pacts to try and cheat others by abusing his time loops, he woke up with a psychic aptitude. When he jumped into a person's Lightning Tribulations and incurred heaven's wrath, he woke up with a lightning aptitude. There was no limit. Of course, getting to higher aptitudes required more quantity or quality. Getting burned to death by minor dragons would no longer improve his fire aptitude.
That was no longer required though, because just the sheer amount of spells in his repertoire, and the existence of two Divine spells—still only something he named the complexity type, not confirmed by the divine—made him an unfathomably powerful force to be reckoned with. And yet, there was something he was missing. Something he was destined never to have: cultivation.
Fillan Strand was one of a recorded five in all of humanity’s history who was born without both energy veins and an energy core, disallowing any form of cultivation. This also affected his body tempering. Since he couldn’t sense qi naturally, he had to force it to improve his talent a smidge. It was simply unacceptable, and definitely unsustainable. Essentially, long story short, Fillan refused not to utilize the extent of his time-loop brokenness. That’s the whole reason he came here.
He heard this place sometimes rewarded Energy Reconstruction pills, which when used on someone without energy veins, constructs them instead. Fillan didn’t really need those, one would be useful, but not necessary, since he already managed to construct his own, along with his mana veins. No, the real issue was his energy core.
There are records of energy cores being repaired after shattering, but never someone who could get a new one. Except a single reference, one that could be completely fabricated. It stated that hundreds of thousands of years ago, a man by the name of Wilfred Gu went from being a pure magician, without a trace of qi, to becoming the greatest cultivator on Graaryll. How, no one knew, but Fillan quickly realized it must have something to do with this pocket-dimension.
As such, four lives ago, he began trying to get in, to no avail. If you weren't the legitimate child of a powerful Clan, you wouldn’t get one of the allocated spots. If you weren’t a citizen of Gum from birth, you couldn’t compete in the tournament for a free spot. The only option left was the mage route.
Mages were much rarer than cultivators, especially powerful ones. However, they could be incredibly useful inside the pocket-dimension. Whether it be in the form of healing, detecting traps, generating water, or whatever else, magicians were superior to lower tier cultivators.
However, whenever he tried to get the spot as himself, the fat, dastardly creature Lewis always got it. He tried again by appearing more powerful and useful, but was never chosen, it was only after he began to appear like a complete degenerate he peaked Moore’s interest, and was considered, but it was still not enough to beat Lewis.
Fillan thus began to gather every piece of information about Ming Gu, who he surrounds himself with, and whatever else might be useful in buttering him up, leading him to where he was now, watching the potentially immortal construct, the Sword path, be engulfed in plasma traveling at half the speed of light. The sturdy pillars that he and Ming thought would never change, began to melt, while the darkness outside the windows disappeared from the pure radiance inside. Obviously, neither of the two boys could see anything other than divine white, but it happened all the same.
This continued for over five minutes before an intangible force moved to cover the once magnificent hall, now only plasma soup. Within an instant, all the plasma disappeared, while any sign of damage was completely reverted. The darkness outside the windows also returned. Some truly petty guy must have made this place, since he refused to give Fillan the slightest sign it was actually damaged by his attack.
With their eyes slowly recovering from the five minute star-like flashbang, the two boys looked straight ahead, only to see two things: 1. More infinite hallway. 2. A two meter tall black crack-like portal. This was both great and horrible.
It was great because they both instinctively felt that this was what they’d get upon reaching the end.
It was horrible for two reasons. The first being that Fillan could probably have done this at the very start of the path, and produced the same result, something Ming also noticed as they shared an exasperated look.
The second was that the path continued for a long time. Fillan knew his plasma was fabricated and operated on different laws than reality, and as such would always travel at a constant half the speed of light. The fact that the plasma took approximately six seconds to reach them meant the sphere only impacted with something—presumably the physical end of the path, or an unbeatable blade—after three seconds. Three seconds equals 4.5*10^8 meters, or in other words 450 000 kilometers. The sheer thought of that was harrowing. Flying that distance would probably shatter his mind halfway. Not to mention the implications this had for the other paths!
“Brother Ming, I don’t want to be a burden, but can you please give me some time to recover? Both my mana and mental abilities are at an all time low,” Fillan forced out through exhausted lips.
“What are you even saying!? Of course, I wouldn’t enter before you’re well even if you told me to.”
What tear shedding camaraderie between two men, huh?
Time passed quickly for Fillan, and slowly for Ming. However, completely unlike his normal bipolar personality, he didn’t seem to mind. He looked lost in thought, reminiscing about what he witnessed earlier.
Thoughts of how such an attack could even be possible, how destructive it truly was, if he would be able to do something similar in the future, even with the rewards from this unfathomable pocket-dimension, all ran rampant in his head.
Since Fillan didn’t tell him about the attack in any detail, and since he only saw a burning plasma river that seemingly had no effect on them and the surroundings, it was difficult to comprehend how powerful the attack truly was.
One thing that was for certain was only such a spell could be considered Divine. Whether it was the appearance, the effects, or the power, Ming held no doubt they, and only something of similar stature, could ever be called divine. He’d make sure to slap anyone who said something tasted divine to death in the future, as it would be blasphemy towards his dear brother.
After nearly seven whole hours had passed, and Ming woke up from a little nap, Fillan finally finished stabilizing his mental state, and his mana storage to an acceptable degree.
“It’s time to see what all our hard work and suffering was for, Brother Ming,” Fillan said to Ming with a gesture towards the crack. “You or me first? If you think it’s dangerous, I’ll go first, if not you can have the honors.”
“Wouldn't really make sense for this thing to mean us harm after reaching the end, otherwise rewarding us with better items for later stages would be unreasonable.”
With that, the fucking bastard actually took Fillan up on his offer and entered first.
‘I. DID. EVERYTHING. I was just being nice; this fucking guy is too much!’
Deciding keeping the mysterious crack waiting was probably not the greatest idea, Fillan ran through it.
…
Fillan appeared in a cozy office-like room. The room was a rectangle shape, with a window at the end, and a desk in front of it. The two parallel walls had multiple bookshelves linked up, all stacked with books.
In the middle of the room, towards where Fillan was standing, an ordinary, but tall, wooden chair stood—or sat? Regardless, it blurred his direct view of the desk, allowing for some old coot to get a good one in on him.
“BOOH,” exclaimed a gravely, but jovial voice from the desk.
Despite being a powerful mage, Fillan wasn’t emotionless or very tough, resulting in him doing a little jump backwards while adrenaline surged through his body.
“It finally worked!” the old man said after seeing Fillan’s antics. “I’ve tried this on thousands of people over the course of millions of years, yet not a single one got scared. You’re the first!”
“I-I didn’t get scared!” Fillan stuttered. “It was just the recoil from the crack!”
“Sure, sure, you mean the rift that feels like a common stroll, even to mortals?” the geezer mocked. “Isn’t that just worse?
To further humiliate Fillan, he began to speak in a squeaky voice.
“Argh! Oh thank god, it was just a pebble! For a second I thought it was COBBLESTONE. HAHAHAHA.”
Fillan was utterly ashamed. How was he supposed to know there was anyone behind the chair? He’d been stuck in an infinite hallway for more than a week, give him a break.
“Well, I’ve had plenty of fun thanks to you, so it’s time we get to business. Please take a seat on the chair, young man.”
Slowly doing as he was told, Fillan rounded the chair, only to see a completely standard looking grandpa sitting behind the desk, head in hands. He looked amused by the young man’s careful walk.
“Since when have people been afraid of sitting down in a chair?” he thought to himself with glee.
Slowly, very carefully, Fillan sat down on the unnecessarily tall chair.
Finally taking his time on checking his surroundings, he discovered the window was no longer black shadowy mass, but rather a view of the marble castle they’d seen upon entering.
“Does that mean we’re in the tower at the end of the path?” Fillan asked the old man, trying to cover up is embarrassment.
“Sure does!” the old man confirmed. “Stunning, right?”
“Better than that stupid, haunted hallway!”
The old man didn’t take any offense, he even gave a slight nod, giving Fillan the courage he needed to continue speaking his mind. He’d been hardcore acting every waking moment for over eleven days straight, he needed some reprieve.
“Can you please tell me what the fuck was writhing outside the windows?” he asked without much politeness. “I felt like we were being watched both from inside the hallway, and outside, but only the outside gaze gave me chills.”
“Those were soul amalgamations! I’m impressed you could notice them, the windows usually do a good job shielding their presence,” the old man exclaimed. “I’ll tell you since you're going to ask anyway; soul amalgamations are enormous clusters of souls that gather into semi-sentient creatures that eat souls, off the living or dead. When someone dies on the paths, their soul gets sucked into that darkness you saw, before either fusing into one of those amalgamations, or it gets eaten.”
‘Simple enough, I guess? A little annoying I didn’t have to be so on edge about it, but whatever.’
“I don’t mean to be that guy, but…where’s my rewards?” Fillan asked, barely trying to hide his avarice, hence the slight pause.
“Oh, your friend is getting them first, then it will be your turn,” the old man explained. “I’m essentially like a secretary to the owner of this tower, and I get to greet the newcomers so that she can get ready first. Or, at times like these, keep you occupied until it’s your turn.”
“So, just between the two of us, again, not to be that guy, but I kind of did everything to clear the path. The other guy was essentially just baggage. No, he was baggage!”
“I’m well aware, who do you think was watching you from ‘inside’?” the old man asked. “And, just so you know, you are the second and third people to have cleared a path on the first try. Congratulations!”
“What do you mean first try?” Fillan pressed. “You mean we could have left at any point? Then why the fuck did I fly for eleven days straight—”
“Let me stop you right there,” the old man interrupted. “Whenever you reach a new cycle, you can choose to leave or continue, but for that to happen, you need to be within range of the swords, something you never were, thus no leaving for you. Plus, the time you spend outside the path counts on your clear time, making your rewards worse.”
“Sigh, whatever. But how long could giving Ming Gu his rewards possibly take?”
“No clue, since your time was unfathomable, the rewards will naturally be supreme, even for that backpack. It has never happened that someone’s helper ended up being the true combat force, so this will also change the calculations, thus increasing the time. Some of the resources might also need to be transported from a different location, requiring even more time.
Luckily for you, I’ve activated a time distortion formation, reducing your waiting time by a hundred times. And since both your calculations are being run simultaneously, you won’t have to wait like Ming Gu does.”
Just when Fillan was about to ask more questions to the surprisingly sociable geezer, the door behind his tall chair opened. He couldn't see it, for obvious reasons, but heard the handle move.
“Our time’s up, Fillan Strand,” the old man said while gesturing at the door. “I wish you great rewards, mister ‘Divine’ magician. Word of advice, don’t call your magic that outside the path, or you might get beat up.”
Without explaining anything further, and without choice, the chair Fillan was on, turned, and he was sent flying through the door at breakneck speeds.
‘What the fuck is happening!’
…
After a few minutes of continuous flying through a series of hallways and a staircase, Fillan landed on his feet outside an opulent double door.
Without needing to knock or announce his arrival, the doors just opened on their own, revealing a needlessly vast, gray room. It was needless because the only things in there were a young woman, and the cultivation pillow she was seated on.
“Come in,” she said. Or commanded? Fillan wasn’t sure.
No matter what, he had to enter the room.
“Hello, Fillan Strand, your brother Ming Gu told me a lot about you—”
“I’m sorry to do this, but take everything he said with fifteen grains of salt, at the very least. Please don’t slander me because of that guy,” Fillan hurriedly interrupted what could easily become a crucible against his twisted morals and insanity, all of which were merely an act.
“Oh, I’m very well aware of his mental state,” she responded, ignoring the fact he interrupted her. “I even made sure one of the rewards he received would rectify his troubled mind.”
‘Praise the heavens!’
“On the note of rewards, that’s the entire reason you’re here, right?” she asked, before continuing without his response. “I’ve noticed you don’t have an energy core, and your energy veins all look artificial. They look more like your mana veins than anything else. So I assume you want something to fix that. Being unable to cultivate must’ve been very challenging.
“You have no idea—”
Maybe as revenge, she interrupted Fillan. Which was the right call, as their short meeting was about to become a very, very long rant.
“Getting you an energy core and natural energy veins is incredibly easy. In fact, regardless of which path you would have chosen, you’d get a pair of pills capable of doing so at level fifty, so you really went above and beyond by clearing the entire thing.”
Fillan: “...”
“Anyway, even with the best possible options we have of those pills, they only cover about 0.001% of your total reward. So before we let the formation decide the rest, you should give me a list of things you’d like.”
“I assume you people are from the Immortal realm or something, since you can make these paths and speak of those heaven defying pills like they’re nothing, so does that mean I can ask for anything?”
Taking a second before responding, the woman slowly nodded her head. “Yes, but everything has a cost, think wisely before choosing something that sounds good, but really isn’t.”
“In my research, I’ve found traces of special techniques so unfathomably overpowered they twist the very laws of reality when used,” Fillan explained. "Apparently, those techniques come about when a whole bunch of laws are comprehended to the limits of the Lower Realm, and then mangled into something unique. Is that true?”
“Do you want to purchase the information?”
Fillan nodded avidly.
“That covers another 0.001% of your rewards,” she sighed, before giving him what he wanted. “Yes, it is true.”
‘I should have been more specific in my question. That cost as much as getting cultivation talent for fuck’s sake!’
The pain was evident on Fillan's face, as it scrunched unnaturally, while also becoming red. If seated, people would have to assume he was trying to excrete something truly heinous.
“Haha,” she giggled. “While you're not under time constraints, It’d be better for both of us to finish earlier rather than later.”
“Okay, listen well, I’ve got a whole bunch of stuff I want,” he said, as he hurriedly thought of things he needs, or could have some use for in the future.
‘I have too much money I have to spend! How is this an issue I need to deal with?’
“1. I want a truly neutral cultivation technique, meaning no elements or weird effects on the body, just pure, raw energy cultivation, at the peak of what is possible in the Lower Realm.
2. Oh, and I want a similar body tempering technique!
3. I want to purchase complete law comprehension—which shouldn’t be too hard for immortals—for fire, water, earth, wind, lightning, light, darkness, life, death, reincarnation, time, space, and karma. Obviously only to the peak of the Lower Realm’s limit.
4. I want to know why I shouldn't call something I’ve made “Divine”.
5. I want two techniques, one finger/palm technique, and one dominating technique—with which I mean it makes me look dominant and powerful using it—obviously at the peak of the Lower Realm.
6. I want the heart of a mature bottomless whale, the higher the realm, the better. If possible, if I have a lot of reward percentage left after everything else is considered, splurge a little on this.
7. I want a technique that allows me to see my own, and others' karma. It doesn’t need to do more than that, but it shouldn’t be easy to block it, preferably.
8. I want a book that can give me relevant information about the Immortal Realm once every twenty four hours, it doesn’t need to be too detailed, but enough to let me comprehend it properly.
Will all of that be possible?
“Why did it feel like he was simply thinking of things on the spot,” the lady mused to herself, before answering. “Excluding point number three, and just purchasing a standard bottomless whale’s heart, it comes to a whopping 23% of your rewards.”
“Why disregard point number three, though,” Fillan queried.
“Do you want to purchase that information?”
He gave a slow nod, before the lady sighed again.
“That covers another 0.05% of your rewards. Because it’s from a higher realm than ours, your rewards can’t even afford a tenth of the cost.”
‘What the fuck kind of nonsense multilayered universe do I live in?’
“You seem to think I’m asking for menial things, so what do you recommend I get?” he asked the knowledgeable woman.
“Do you want to purchase—”
“Holy, yes, yes, I want to purchase the information.”
“I’d recommend you get a special talent, or unique physique. You can get a lot of really good ones for a low “price”. Other than that, purchasing spell structures is imperative to mages, so you should get a few of those. I don’t really know you well enough to give more advice.
That was 0.0001% of your reward; we’ll be here forever if you continue like this!”
“Hmmm, no,” Fillan said without any regard for the woman’s advice. “I like making my own spells, and don’t want talent or physiques I don’t deserve. Let’s just disregard those two categories, and run the formation. Obviously, I don’t think I have to mention this, but the energy core and veins are a must, they do not apply to what I said about talents, okay?”
“That’s fine; I need to ask one more time for confirmation, are you sure—”...he interrupted her again.
“I want a place where I can safely absorb and learn about all the things I'll be getting, especially the techniques and law comprehension!” he shouted almost like it wouldn’t reach the woman's ears in time if he didn’t.
“Sure, that will be another 0.5%. Do you want to start the reward selection formation?” she asked in exasperation.
“Yes!”
“I will send you to your room now, and the rewards will appear in a complementary spatial ring.”
Without further pleasantries—or unpleasantries—the woman flicked her wrist in Fillan’s direction, causing him to shift through space. In the short instance he blinked, he disappeared from the big gray room, only to appear in a tiny room without any furniture.
‘If I didn’t have the requisite spells, would I have to pee-pee and poo-poo on the floor?
Luckily, before he could envision those scenarios, a tiny iron-like ring dropped onto his head.
“Let’s see what my years of arduous effort, and last few days of suffering will amount to. If I find out through some sick joke, that my cultivation talent won’t carry over, then heaven shall burn.”