Glenn watched with mixed feelings as a dozen robotic limbs worked on treating his hand, cutting off the charred skin and doing whatever that disgusting thing was. Why the hell would that robot need five different scalpels?

//Please be patient as I treat your wound, Descendant, Gundam warned, Fourth Degree wounds can leave deep scars even with high-grade magical healing. Proper surgical operations are required. You shouldn't feel a thing thanks to the anesthesia.

Glenn nodded slowly, his eyes glued to the robotic limbs. Skin was cleanly sliced off, muscles ripped away, and salves delicately applied. It was a work of art. As if to compliment it, a soft, soothing light eventually came out of one of the robotic limbs, bathing his wounds and healing them magically.

"You weren't kidding when you said I would get a top-grade treatment. This is oddly terrifying."

//Mental traumas are common during partial anesthesia operations. The Descendant shouldn't have this issue.

Glenn snorted as he looked away from the butchering of his hand, "Oh, is that so? Why?"

//The Descendant's mental state can't be worn any further.

"...Fuck you."

"Hahaha, yeah, you're fucking right, tin can! Glenn's already insane, why the hell would he care about a bit of sliced meat?" Diamanes laughed widely. Glenn sighed as he waited patiently for the operation to be done. Eventually, the robotic limbs pulled away and returned to the walls, floor, or ceiling, depending on where they came from. Gundam's humanoid frame was coldly watching the process, as emotionless as ever.

"Phew...that's one thing done. Hah...I managed to wound Doyle Malory!" Glenn pumped his fist in the air with a wide grin. "Even though he wasn't taking me seriously, it still felt incredible! I'm great! "

"The Lance of Prometheus...Hell, even I couldn't have chosen a better name! Glenn, you're starting to finally look like something! You might even reach my toenail!" Diamanes exclaimed excitedly.

Glenn sighed, finally relieved of his Mana Exhaustion. When he was weaker, that meant unconsciousness and nothing else. Now, he simply felt exhausted, a little nauseous, and a slightly bothering headache. And of course, it was practically impossible to use another spell. Well, he technically could use Overload, but that skill had been sealed and it was extremely taxing on his Mana Heart. And he was supposed to come up with another solution anyway.

'What I need to do now is to enhance the rate of my Mana recovery, and make my spells more efficient. It's simply nonsensical for one spell to eat through two-thirds of my entire reserve.'

"I disagree!" exclaimed Diamanes loudly, "Shooting one incredibly powerful spell, that is the way of glory, the way of legends!"

Glenn grimaced, "Yeah, well I'd rather be alive than legendary, in all honesty."

Diamanes sneered.

//The 'Source Specimen' energy capacity has decreased by 5%. Further mitigation is necessary to reach satisfying levels.

"Further mitigation...Just say that you want me to get my ass beat up, that'll be easier to understand," jeered Glenn. The robot looked at him for an instant.

//Error. Please use comprehensible language.

"Sigh..."

With an almost disturbing easiness, Glenn slipped back into Meditation, once again. How many times had he Meditated these past few days? It was starting to add up really quickly. His sense of time was disappearing, thanks to the lack of day-night cycles, as well as his impromptu Meditation breaks.

'Thinking about that, when was the last time I ate?' Glenn pondered. Suddenly, as if waking up from a long trance, his stomach thundered with a loud grumble, practically screaming at him.

//Descendant. It seems like your body requires sustenance after fasting for too long.

"No shit, Gundam!" Glenn hissed as he hurriedly pulled rations out of his dimensional pouch. He barely tried identifying them as he shoved them down his throat, swallowing without chewing. He was thirsty too, but not exactly dehydrated.

"Fuck, how could I forget to eat and drink!" Glenn cursed. He used a quick Aqua to conjure water out of thin air.

"I think you were a little too concentrated on getting stronger, fighting Doyle, and comprehending Mana. Whatever dude. Your body is already partially able to survive only on Mana anyway," said Diamanes casually. Glenn's eyes widened.

"That's a thing?!"

Gundam chimed in, //Correct. Observations indicate that superhumans can survive purely on their energies, such as Aura, Mana, or Divinity, after reaching a certain level. It's estimated to be a processus reserved for individuals at the sixth rank of power.

Glenn scoffed, "So you call them superhumans. The fact that an Earthling made you is really showing now."

"Yes, yes, you almost accidentally died of starvation. Can we go back to fighting Doyle? That was fun!" Diamanes pressed impatiently. Glenn glanced at his left, purple arm and shrugged.

"You know what? Strangely, I don't feel like fighting that much. I mean, I'm more curious about something else." Glenn rubbed his chin, "Why the hell did he ask me to become his friend? Is that some weird metaphor so that I'd end up as his dinner?"

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"Probably, and who cares! Go get a whooping, or give him one, I don't know, but do something! I'm boreeed~ just watching you Meditate and Meditate, and Meditate again. Ragh!"

"Yes, yes, just give me a minute. I'm practically full on Mana, and the status of my wound—" Glenn looked at his previously charred black hand, grinning as he found it to be in perfect condition.

//The treatment was successful and left no traces or scars. Gundam stated as if to support Glenn's thoughts.

"Excellent!" Glenn grinned. This time, he didn't even bother summoning Nelg. He was going to only use spells anyway, so why bother?

"Send me in again, Gundam!"

A second later, Glenn was back in the white prison. Doyle Malory was patiently waiting, sitting on a non-existent chair.

"Ah, Glenn!" The Lightbringer waved at him, "Please, come take a seat."

He pointed at a space in front of him. Glenn moistened his lips and grimaced, "Thanks, but I'll just stand."

Doyle Malory shrugged and leaned back, "Suit yourself. Hey, did you think about it, then?"

Glenn's eyebrows creased. "About what?"

The Lightbringer opened his arms widely and grinned, "But, to become my friend, of course! What else?"

"So I didn't hear wrong..." Glenn cautiously approached Doyle, ready to cast a spell at a moment's notice, "Why do you want to befriend me, Doyle?"

The latter tilted his head to the side confusedly, "Do I need a reason to make friends?"

This was such a simple, yet implacable logic. Glenn blinked. 'Why does it feel like I'm talking to a child? This is so strange.'

"Are you going to rip me apart and eat me, if I become your friend?" Glenn asked with his arms crossed. Doyle looked away and rolled his eyes.

"Of course not! Who do you take me for?" He grinned and picked at his teeth, "I only eat the Gods' dogs, no one else. That's kind of my thing, y'know?"

"Your thing?" Glenn repeated with a hint of disbelief, "Don't you think it's a little strange of a thing to have?"

Doyle shrugged, "Well, considering I was once the doggest of them all, and know what fate awaits the dogs down the line, I might as well spare them the pain and put them down now."

"What do you mean by that?" Glenn asked, increasingly curious. Doyle drank from an imaginary teacup and looked at the white ceiling.

"Well, there's that thing, uhm, what do these fuckers call it...Ah, the Apostle System! Yeah, that's it. You know, the Gods can give a portion of their powers to a mortal, and that mortal would then accomplish their God's will in this lowly world."

Doyle took another imaginary sip and sighed, "And I was the Apostle of the Seven Gods. Ah, shit, the seventh one died. I almost forgot that, even though I technically played a part. Anyway, good times!" Doyle raised his cup with a large grin. Glenn blinked in awe.

'Shit, Doyle is actually a gold mine! If you ignore the fact that he might eat me at any given moment, of course. Fuck...And what does he mean? He was the Apostle of all of them? How is that possible?

"How old are you exactly?" Glenn couldn't help but inquire.

Doyle counted on his fingers, "Hmm...one, two, three...maybe four? Between three and four thousand years old, I'm not sure. I stopped celebrating my birthdays a long time ago."

Glenn quickly made the calculations. 'Munirp's calendar goes back three thousand years. That means Doyle is a little older than the entire kingdom, and that he was born during the Epoch of the Gods. That's insane...'

Glenn quickly made his decision and used Gravity Manipulation to sit in front of Doyle. The sight of both of them, sitting on invisible chairs, was quite amusing.

"Want some tea?" Doyle proposed, but Glenn shook his head politely.

"No, thank you. My stomach is a little upset from my last meal. What else can you tell me about your past? Right—why do you hate the Gods so much?" he asked as he crossed his arms.

'What the fuck are you doing, Glenn? Why aren't you fighting him? Do you want to kill him or fuck him? Because one does exclude the other!' Diamanes shouted in his host's mind. Glenn ignored him and carefully watched Doyle take another sip of his imaginary tea.

"Glenn..." Doyle looked at the ceiling, "What exactly do you know about the Gods?"

Glenn frowned. "Hmm...As much as anyone."

'I don't see the use of revealing my meetings with Onnea, the Fallen Mother, the Guide, and the Bloodblade to him. Let's stay careful.'

Doyle threw away his nonexistent cup and joined his hands together, taking a serious expression.

"Listen, there are...rules that stop me from talking about it. But—" He raised his finger at the sky, "—What I can tell you for sure is that you should never trust the Gods." He paused and scratched his chin, "... Except Nergal. That guy was nice. He never forced me to do anything, you know. But the others?"

Doyle clenched the edge of his imaginary table, his knuckles whitening and his eyes bloodshot, "They will burn in hell for their sins. Gods? They're just bastards with a little more strength than others, depending on—"

The Lightbringer suddenly clenched his throat, the colors escaping from his face. Glenn watched confusedly as the ancient being fell to his knees, struggling to breathe. He stood up, intending to help, but Doyle raised a hand to stop him.

'The gods are dependent on something? What does that mean?' Glenn's surroundings suddenly warped back to the Core.

"What? Hey, Gundam, send me back in there!" Glenn exclaimed as he turned to the robot, "I still have questions to ask him!"

Gundam coldly looked at him. //Unnecessary. The 'Source Specimen' has been successfully mitigated. The quarantine protocols are resumed to a standard level. The priority is set to sealing the leaking Divinity.

Glenn paused. "Wait, did Doyle die?"

//Incorrect. The 'Source Specimen' has been subject to moderate divine interference. Resistance against the interference has caused traumas in his soul region. Quarantine is the only option.

"Shit..." Glenn rubbed the back of his head. At the last second, Doyle clearly tried to share some sort of secret knowledge, but the Gods shut him up without waiting. He glanced at his right arm, thinking about the 'evil compass' that Onnea gave him. His arm would shine each time it was close to a Seed of Darkness. Could it also be doing something else?

"Diamanes, you wouldn't happen to have the ability to get rid of Divine Blessings and the like?" Glenn slowly asked.

The entity smirked, "Who do you take me for? Of course, I can do that! I just need you to reach...hmm, maybe the Sixth Circle will be enough. Yeah, at that point I'd be able to see a lot more than I currently do. Or—" Diamanes chuckled, "You could track down that Devil Eye guy, and take the other part of me. The Eye is specialized in 'seeing' things, after all!"

Glenn rubbed his temples. "I'll consider it."

//Descendant. Further improvement of your abilities is required to assure your safety. Gundam suddenly teleported him into a white room, a facto-simile of Doyle's prison. Glenn cursed and pointed an accusing finger at the ceiling.

"Shit, Gundam, stop playing around! I don't have time to waste with your bullshit!"

The robot's voice echoed in the room, emotionless. //Descendant. Please improve your current spells to the standard of your 'Sun'. Until then, I will be obliged to contain you in this facility for your own safety. Additionally, contact between you and other flesh bags will be blocked to maintain your focus.

Glenn swore through his teeth, "What the fuck is that about? I—I have people to get back to, I can't just spend my whole time in there!"

//Please, stop resisting. This is for your own good. Please put more effort into improving your strength. Your survival chances will increase as a result.

"Survival chances?" Glenn raised an eyebrow, "Survival chances to what? What are you preparing me for, Gundam?"

//Error. This information is locked behind status: Creator.

"What a joke..." Glenn sighed heavily as he let himself fall on the floor. He stared at the white ceiling and raised an angry fist at it.

"Forcing me through a training arc...I'll get back to you, fucking tin can!"

"Hey, I don't want to say it, but...I told you so!"

"Shut it, Diamanes."