WORLD ITEM AWAKENING
Reality changed, taking Dallion, Euryale, and Vihrogon into a stone temple. The place seemed deserted as ever, but there were two noticeable differences from Dallion’s last visit: although empty, it seemed rather well kept; and the smell of spring plants was felt in the air.
Dark had also insisted on coming, changing his appearance to that of a gecko on Euryale’s shoulder. For some reason, the dragon insisted that this was also “his” world, given that he had helped the pair gain control over it.
“It’s different,” Euryale said.
Dallion concentrated, yet was unable to feel the extent of the realm. As a domain ruler, he was supposed to. Apparently, world item realms remained items. Back when his aura sword was known as the poison sword responsible for releasing the poison plague in the rest of the world, many powerful individuals fought for it. Archduke Lanitol had hired the Icepicker guild to find its location, while a rogue mage—previously of the Shimmering Order—had succumbed to the Star’s temptation and used it for his own devices.
A lot of things had changed since then. Dallion had become the owner of the weapon, transforming it into the aura sword he was currently using.
“Time to see the world,” Dallion whispered and made his way through the stone hall.
Stone murals depicting him and Euryale in heroic fashion covered the walls. As far as the inhabitants of the world were concerned, he was the deity that had saved them. That was technically true—he had destroyed the cracklings infesting the world as well as defeated the only surviving guardian of the item. Yet, he didn’t regard himself as divine, not like the Moons were.
A vastness of green spread as far as the eye could see. Thanks to his current perception level, Dallion was able to see all the way up to the world’s sea. There was no telling how much time had passed, but it had to be a lot since dozens of cities had emerged, many of them larger than Nerosal even. Created entirely of plants, they rose like multi-layered trees, covered in vines and bushes. Here and there, stone columns would be visible among the vegetation, more a fashion statement than anything else.
“A world can see wonders when there are no cracks,” Vihrogon noted. “Hopefully, they’ve not at war with one another.”
“Why would they be?” Dark asked from Euryale’s shoulder.
“Inner demons,” the dryad replied. “People fight because they can’t get rid of their problems. Awakened fight because they can’t agree on how best to solve them.”
Just like in the real world, Dallion thought.
The Architect had created a world in which everything was possible, yet it had taken a blink of an eye before the first Star to emerge and shatter the world into splinters. Since then, a cycle of chaos and repair had begun, culminating in a world conquest attempt.
Dallion cast a spell, rising into the air. Not to remain undone, Dark leaped off Euryale’s shoulder and transformed into his full dragon form. Despite growing considerably in size and level, there still was a rebellious streak left, urging him to compete. There was a time when Dallion would have agreed to it, though not now.
“No need for that,” Vihrogon said. “He’ll come to us.”
Dallion looked down at him.
“The world owners return after Moons’ know how long. You think the guardian will just sit by and ignore it? He’s known about us since the moment we entered. Now that he’s estimated our strength, he’ll make an appearance. Isn’t that right, Prolet?” he asked casually.
Several steps away, a cluster of grass rose up, shifting into a sapling, then a full-fledged dryad. Everyone could see this wasn’t the guardian, but an echo of his.
Not a good sign, Dallion thought. In the past, the guardian had been a lot more open.
“Guardian?” Euryale approached.
The dryad echo instinctively stepped back, wooden sickles appearing in both his hands. A few tense moments later, the sickles sunk half-way into the echo’s hands.
“You’re back,” it said with the hesitation of someone who barely remembered the encounter.
Dallion knew that wasn’t the case. Guardians had much better memories than awakened. Most likely, it was the power level that had put Prolet on guard.
“You don’t seem glad to see us,” Dallion floated back down. “Any reason for that?”
“You’re different.” The dryad stated flatly.
“We’ve grown.” Dallion corrected.
“That’s what’s worrisome. To return after all this time, at the levels you are, you must want something.”
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Various scenarios ran through Dallion’s mind. It wouldn’t be beyond his capabilities to use his music skills to convince the guardian of anything he wanted. The nearly insurmountable opponent was less than half Dallion’s level, and not even fully able to take advantage of the realm’s powers. He’d easily get entangled in a web of music. Yet, anything gained through trickery had a far greater chance of getting unraveled, or at least Dallion tended to believe so.
“We want to take the inhabitants back into the real world,” he said directly. “From what I see, there’s a bit more than before.”
The echo took a step back. For almost ten seconds he kept staring at Dallion, as if trying to determine if there was anything he could do about it. Fear mixed with hope fluctuated as they emanated from him. He couldn’t deny that had been the initial goal of the world items upon their creation. Having it actually happen was a different matter.
“I don’t know everything that’s going on out there, but I’ve felt enough battles to know it’s not a safe place,” Prolet responded. “Most of my attention is focused on here, but I remain an item guardian. I’ve felt the magic surge through the sword each time you fight.”
Most times, Dallion corrected mentally.
“You haven’t come here to let the dryads of this world free. You’ve come because you need an army.”
“I won’t deny that,” Dallion retained his calm. “You’re not the only world sword I have access to. I’ll just tell you the stakes. Whoever wins the war in the real world gets to pass the sixth gate.”
The revelation caused the echo to take another step back. Fear emanated from him like a fountain as he glanced at Vihrogon for confirmation.
“Yep,” Vihrogon nodded. “There’s another war for the world, only this time there are four conquerors.”
“Four?” Prolet’s voice was faint.
“Bottom line, whoever wins will pass the gate, and become a Moon to change the world as they see fit. You’ve seen us change the world. Do you want to risk someone else doing it?”
“Who are the conquerors?”
“There’s me, the emperor of the Tamin Empire…”
Prolet seemed confused.
“Human empire,” Vihrogon clarified with a wave of his hand. “He’s leading for the moment.”
“Tiallia the nymph empress,” Dallion continued.
“The nymphs were banished.” The guardian interrupted.
“They were,” Vihrogon said again. “Now they’re back.”
“And the archbishop of the Order of the Seven Moons.”
The final name caused the Prolet to openly blink. Even for him, the Order had existed for as long as anyone remembered. They had never taken sides and always helped all that suffered at the hands of conflict. Having the archbishop try to take over the world sounded absurd to the point of heresy.
“You’re not lying,” he noted.
“No. Those are the four pretenders. As you’ve probably guessed, I’m the weakest, but if the dryads follow me, that will change.”
“Follow you…” A sad smile appeared on the dryad’s face. “So much time and we’re back where we started. The emperor created the sword marshals to serve as seeds in case we lost the war of conquest. Now, you’re asking me to let everyone out so they could take part in another war.”
“I’m not asking anything. If I lose, I’ll die, but it won’t end there. Too many lines have been crossed for anyone to go back. A single victor will emerge, and they will change everything: oceans, continents, races, and everything within. In the case of this world, it’s more likely that it will be destroyed before me. You said you knew how often I use the sword in battle. At my current awakening level, it’ll be a lot easier for them to slowly chip away at my weapons and companions than kill me off directly.”
Euryale glared at Dallion with several of her snakes. Although he wasn’t using music, with such a threat, he might as well have been. Everything said was technically true, although generations might well pass between the current moment and the potential destruction of the world. On the other hand, should the dryads return to the real world, they’d survive the sword’s demise… provided that Dallion won.
“If you pass the gate,” Prolet began, “How will you change the world?”
“I’ll remove all battle scars and bring all seven races back to the world,” Dallion replied without hesitation. Sincerity naturally filled his words. “The same I did here.”
“There’s only one race in this world.”
“I was still learning back then.” A smile shined on Dallion’s face. “I’m not here to drag everyone out. Although even non-fighters will be of help, I’m only here to take those who are willing to follow.”
“Only those willing to follow…” Prolet nodded. “Then it’ll be up for them to decide. Come to the temple city. I’ll bring all the rulers there. It’ll be your job to convince them.”
“Sure. And when I’m done with that, I’ll convince all of their subjects as well.”
“Do that and you’ll earn the twi-crown.” The echo sunk into the ground.
For the second time since the world’s recreation, a general conclave was made to take place. As Vihrogon had suggested, while the world itself was very much alive and prospering, fractions had formed among the population, bringing rise to several primary and secondary powers. Tensions had risen many times and the only reason for all-out wars to be avoided was the decisive actions of the guardian who had stepped in. The arrival of the “world’s creators” quickly brought a different air to the gathering. Every ruler had gone to the temple city with serious doubts, only to have them subside upon setting eye on the levels of the visitors.
Men and women with millions of dryads under their command stared at Dallion and Euryale the same way he had stared at the first hunting party that had ventured into his village of Dherma all that time ago. It was a deep held belief that only the greatest awakened could get beyond level twenty, with fifty being reserved for the all-powerful guardian of the world. Anything beyond that defied reality.
Dallion had been forced to use his music skills to calm them down and stop them gawking before he could get to the serious matter. It was fair to say that he had some doubts regarding his success, but was optimistic he could get a quarter of the world’s population. Given how much they had grown, that would prove more than enough for him to establish a few cities in some of the uncontested regions of the world before snatching Wetie province and the other world items in the archduke’s collection.
To his astonishment, all the rulers were overly eager to prove their strength to the world’s creators. If anything, arguments arose who should be the ones to “enter the real world first.” Judging by Prolet’s expression, similar outbursts were normal. And yet again, Dallion had to resort to music skills to bring the tensions down. Ultimately, it was decided that Vihrogon—the proclaimed envoy of the creators—would lead the rulers of all dryad nations simultaneously into the new world when the time came, where each of them would be given their own city.
The general population also felt blessed, grateful that they were the generation that would fulfill the age long prophecy of returning to the world beyond. And, while Dallion had promised that anyone who wished could return to the sword world in the future, should they choose, very few seemed remotely inclined to do so.
The day after Dallion’s return to the world item, it was unanimously decided that he’d be bestowed with the twi-crown, making him the new dryad emperor.