Name: Apollyon

Total Level: 1

Core Durability:

3,580,808,891,034,020/4,000,000,000,000,000

Equip Requirement: LVL 1

Body Durability: 4000/4000

Mana: 1000 / 1000

Age: 20

Race: Artifact Spirit

Racial Skills:

[U][Binding Covenant]:

Main Class:

Locus of Misfortune:

Skills:

[D][Eldritch Reconstitution]

[E][Curse of Misfortune]

[E][Perceive Luck]

[E][Possession]

General Skills:

[U][Soul Archive]

[U][Transcendent Camouflage]

[U][Soul Mastery]

[U][World Core]

[S][Massacre]

[S][Mana Sense]

[S]Corruption]

[A][Consume]

General Attributes:

Strength: 5

Dexterity: 5

Constitution: 5

Intelligence: 5

Wisdom: 5

Charisma: 5

Special Attributes:

Luck: -25

Positive Conditions:

Negative Conditions:

Apollyon turned its attention from its status and took another good look at its busy partner, wondering what to do next. The boy was no longer in any danger of dying, but he was still lacking many things. His sense of self made fleeting ever since the tragedy that befell him. A sad, fragile being, caught in a quagmire after only barely putting a foot forward into the wider world.

Not quite the person it had imagined would wield it, but it worked. The bar had lowered almost a dozen times before finally settling on him. It supposed that this was good, in its own way. The kid had a higher-than-average luck stat, but more than anything, he showed promise.

Even if he was still quite guarded, they were only together for a day. Such wariness was warranted. Only then could Apollyon be relieved in its investment. It would only be disappointed if Niven lacked appropriate caution.

Thus, everything worked out in the end.

After numerous failures, someone had finally agreed to dedicate their soul to it. Though they were lacking in understanding, that was not necessarily required for Apollyon’s current objectives. It would deepen, as would their connection, with time. It could even serve as the child’s mentor, something it had not done in a long, long time.

It was only a matter of how much investment it was willing to put in.

No. My previous failures were the result of my stinginess and lack of communication. I need to at least make them believe that they have control or that we are on equal footing. This kid, though wary, isn’t the paranoid sort, so it shouldn’t be too difficult.

I’ll give him a little extra help to smooth things out.

Apollyon was certain that it would be able to establish a suitably imposing presence in his mind; it had plenty of practice, but the follow-up would be challenging.

It had taken a few apprentices early into his life as a human, before he became what it was now. However, he wasn’t particularly hands-on with their lessons. They were experiments that started at a whim that ended just as easily after showing no promise. Constructs proved to be better aides than anyone it was able to train up.

Its collaboration with Niven needed to be different. What it needed here was something akin to that, though taken to the next level. It needed to form a bond with its partner that was linked beyond simple gratitude for imparting knowledge.

A difficult thing, no doubt.

It? A fatherly mentor? You’d sooner see its current world end than that happening, but that was exactly the thing it needed to become.

Social skills weren’t something that saw much focus after his early years. The better part of his life was spent holed up in a lab or tower of some sort - his only companions being magitech constructs and spellbound elementals. There were even times when his throat would decay, and he wouldn’t realize it. This would go on until it was eventually used, much to his embarrassment. Even then, the only times when it could be used were when he was idle enough to start talking to himself, only to discover that he couldn’t.

As such, wouldn’t transforming into an artifact that depended on taking advantage of its users seem rather strange? After all, a tool necessitated a user - and it would be difficult to get anywhere without finding a wielder first.

However, Apollyon had always felt that its direction was just fine. Well, fine before being blown off track, of course.

His original plan was to simply hitch rides alongside prominent figures across multiple worlds, augmenting their growth while skimming a bit off the top. With its abilities, it was not a question whether it made it into their hands or not.

It would continue its usual modus operandi of siphoning knowledge and material while world hopping, but this time in a manner that did not paint a massive target on its back.

In such a scenario, it would be best if the people that ‘owned’ it never even realized their artifact was conscious, struggling to empower it according to the accompanying ‘inheritance’ as they made their way up the food chain. Because they believed that this artifact will be the backbone for their ascension - and why would they not with all the helpful abilities Apollyon was meant to have - they would feverishly funnel resources to ‘empower’ it, all the while Apollyon itself worked away inside the core, researching and clearing its backlog of mysteries to uncover to its heart’s content.

It was a simple and crude plan, but that was because he expected changes to occur as he obtained more information, ironing out the details as things developed.

It would be a path to [Detachment] that was slow, but unfettered and safe. Ideal for someone whose existence was wholly self-sufficient and eternal. Power and resources would be accumulated over the eons, harvested over an uncountable number of worlds. Eventually, a qualitative change will be borne from a quantitative one. The potential of the artifact crafted out of his meticulous care and such quality materials could surely reach that height eventually. And if not, then there was a reason why Apollyon was created as a ‘living’ weapon.

Life, in essence, was a pattern that could recognize the self and iterate upon that self based upon said observations.

It can change and grow to suit its needs. It was planned to have no dead ends, leaving every path open for it. With these assurances, Detachment was well within reach. Though, that was what its past self had hoped, anyway. It certainly had more chances at success than his other plans, that's for sure.

That kind of laid-back life would provide room for the retirement and mental reset needed after years of plotting and fighting. Research would still be continued, though. Study was not merely a task for it - it was its passion.

Even expecting changes, never had Apollyon thought that the changes would arrive so soon, occurring even before the plan had truly been set in motion.

Alas, it would seem that dreams were beautiful but the reality was not. That freeloader lifestyle would prove difficult with his current skill set.

It retained most of its foundational abilities before its transformation, but rest were lost in translation. It had expected as much, but it still hurt to see progress go to waste. That was not to mention that some of the ones that it kept were in a damaged state, all thanks to a certain psychopath. The [U][Soul Archive] in particular suffered a heart-wrenching amount of losses. It served its purpose well, using the less important information nodes of its soul as a buffer making sure that its core framework was left unscathed, but the sheer amount lost spoke volumes about the absurdity of the attack Apollyon suffered.

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Had it not possessed such an ability it would have become comatose or at least suffer some form of mental impairment. Then it would truly have become an artifact that could serve as the backbone of someone else's ascension.

That damn dragon’s attack had not been easy to weather, indeed.

But the repairs could be completed in due time. The thing that really threw a wrench in his plans was the malus to luck. It was unfair, really. It wasn’t the one that blew up the world. The dragon was the one that did in his homeland. Sure, Apollyon had taken the world’s entire population, but that wasn’t something a world was unable to recover from.

In a million years it’ll seed new people who will rise from the ashes. Maybe even better than before now that there wasn't just a single being that suppressed the rise of those on the bottom. Even if that won’t be exactly how it’ll go due to the place having been extremely damaged from suffering two back-to-back calamities, it would only stretch the timetable by a few magnitudes. A minuscule amount in the eyes of a world.

How was it supposed to know that it chose a quarry that was governed by one who was both mentally unstable and had suicidal tendencies? Most people at that level of strength would stubbornly hold on to their lives, still playing the game even if they had been dealt a terrible hand, giving everything for a chance at survival. That was what Apollyon would have done. It was why there are so many instances of those that fall from the top rising again with a vestige of their former power across the multiverse.

By all accounts, there was no deep hatred between them, just a conflict of interests.

But that dragon decided to just use its life as a fulcrum to flip the table directly. Apollyon was still able to make away with all the chips, but now it was being held accountable for the table becoming broken.

With this kind of luck in play, there was no shot for its hosts to make something of themselves without its direct intervention.

While -25 might not seem like a lot for higher tiers with stats in the thousands or beyond, luck was not like any of the others. For one, it did not grow organically with strength. A Tier 9 being could have mana in the hundreds of billions and still only have a luck of 1. Most people would be born with luck not passing double digits and have it stay that way their entire lives.

Even more would even go on to never see their luck directly, only ever having a general sense of it over time. Certain abilities allowed for one to view it, but they were exceedingly rare. If even recognizing one’s luck was so difficult, one could only imagine how much harder influencing it was.

Even a world’s Sons of Heaven, heaven-sent heroes on a quest to deliver a world from calamity, rarely had luck passing the 30s. Even then, with that amount of luck, it was rare for anything to not go their way when it was necessary. They were nigh unkillable in the world that they called home.

As such, it was with that level of luck that they would be able to concentrate the entirety of a world’s strength unto themselves, becoming what amounted to the will of the world made manifest. How else could they represent a world against something that posed a threat to a world itself?

Luck, then, was something that was essentially only within the domain of Worlds and a chosen few - those touched by the law of ‘Causality’. Beings like that were something he never had the fortune of never having to tangle with directly. Running afoul with someone that had a deep connection with the law of ‘Causality’ would only leave you to dead without ever understanding how it even happened.

And messing with that law without adequate understanding was a surefire way to an early grave.

There were so many ways one could die, after all. Even for those standing at the top, those that believed themselves to be untouchable. Especially them, actually. Blind arrogance led quite nicely to a precipitous fall. They too could become victims to a ridiculous series of coincidences. There was no such thing as true immortality until one attained Detachment.

Maybe one day you’d walk down the street and meet gazes with an old man. Well, it turned out that old man was in fact someone stronger than you in disguise and he did not appreciate the look in your eyes - whatever that meant - and decided to extinguish you on the spot.

In a position of power? Public opinion soured regardless of how much effort was put in to maintain it.

Out on a walk? Perhaps a sinkhole would spontaneously appear beneath your feet, dropping you into who knows where.

Enjoying the rain? Thunderbolt out of the blue.

Reach the peak and ascend to a higher world? Step on a camouflaged primordial divine bug or whatever and die instantly from its poison.

Even staying isolated in an underground bunker cut off from everything was no reprieve, as one day, a meteor might just head your way. And not just any meteor, but one that could destroy the world.

No matter how one tried to hide or minimize their karma, with time, something always happened eventually.

This put Apollyon in a rather difficult position. It no longer had a definite lifespan, so when the timeline stretched to near infinity, such events were essentially guaranteed.

If it just lied flat as planned, it would quickly accumulate a negative reputation, which ensured that only the most insane of lunatics with self-destructive tendencies would be willing to use it.

Yes, it was able to disguise itself and make itself more appealing, but most artifacts required a history to become coveted. Especially ones that demanded the wielder to invest copious amounts of resources into it. It couldn’t just pop up out of nowhere.

That is, unless its wielder was either exceedingly desperate or exceedingly stupid. But did it really want someone like that?

Even if it changed its shape and abilities often, it was inevitable that people eventually began to question why so many artifacts with abilities that befit a legend appeared and then disappeared.

They’d catch on.

Maybe not in a few years. Maybe not even in a few centuries, but they would. No matter how stupid the average person was, it was wrong to discount the collective knowledge of a civilization - or multiple civilizations, for that matter.

A cautionary tale of a cursed object that shapeshifted and brought disaster would spread throughout the world, growing to a point where Apollyon cannot develop quietly anymore. This would force it to abandon the world it was nestled nicely in and start fresh, starting the cycle all over again.

While it was still possible to grow under these conditions, it would be even slower than its original plan while also attracting a lot of negative attention. It might even provoke some powerful individuals or groups to make a concerted effort to have it destroyed or sealed.

This was not something it wanted to see.

Apollyon’s overall direction had been irrevocably knocked off course and it must chart a new path from here.

Though it disliked unexpected developments, it knew that the situation was by no means as bleak as the picture painted above - after all, it was not simply an unconscious artifact blind to the world around it - even if it had intended to function as one at first. It had agency and could communicate. It could empower its user and outpace the misfortune that came their way.

Likewise, as it said to Niven before, every disaster was an opportunity. It was not lying when it said that. It truly believed in this statement. For those seeking ever greater heights, the most suffocating thing of all was to live a completely uneventful life. If a person was strong enough, a treacherous cave could become a dungeon filled with treasure, and provoking a god merely gave probable cause to raid their churches.

Misfortune was the perfect way to obtain a casus belli, which was more important the higher one climbed. After all, so long as there was a reason, so long as one’s behavior could be traced, those on high generally ignored you. They loved nothing more than calculating others to their benefit. No one liked a lunatic who didn’t play by the rules.

As such, it was only a matter of perspective.

Although its ‘partners’ might meet early deaths as a result, when had that ever mattered?

If all of these traits were leveraged appropriately, this could even be considered an opportunity to more assuredly and quickly reach [Detachment]. And, opportunities, when so close at hand, must be taken decisively. It was ironic then, that it was ‘fortunate’ enough that its plans have always been made malleable in order to adapt to changes. However, to ensure it made the correct decisions, it needed a general idea of what it would be doing in the long term.

First and foremost was reviewing the attack that, to its knowledge, was impossible for the dragon to do. It needed to understand its roots before it could be more serious about repairs. Slapdash efforts could lead to hidden dangers later on, and it would be a danger that laid within the core of its being.

Yet the dragon’s detonation itself was also worthy of study and would be something it would pry the secrets of even if its repairs didn't hinge on it.

Such a thing sparked Apollyon’s interest and it wished to study the cause behind it in detail. Could there be a way to make it not suicidal? Many attacks of that nature were the result of overreaching one’s means. With sufficient foundation and knowledge, most things were able to give a stable and sustainable result.

Worse comes to worst, such an ability could be taught to its wielders. The positive here was that even if their control and its understanding was crude, they would provide invaluable data for the next attempt.

Maybe this should be made into a tradition… A last send off? Engineering a last stand. A battle they couldn’t afford to lose…

On another note, while its current class [Locus of Misfortune] was admittedly a bit of a pit, it was still very appealing and worthy of development. Even if it was predominantly a negative trait, it was a beachhead into one of the more esoteric and unique laws - Causality.

Furthermore, it was not the one bearing the curse, as its wielder would be unlucky in its stead, making the whole ordeal easier to stomach. That there was the most important distinction to make.

However, Apollyon did not wish for the class to define its existence. If it simply went with the flow and brought calamity every which way, it would be forever locked into the path of ‘Causality’ and ‘Apocalypse’ and the like, weakening its understanding, and ultimately control, over other laws.

The System was a giant whose shoulders it borrowed to see farther into the skies above. Its help made many things simpler and opened many doors for it, but it was important not to become completely dependent. It would not make the mistake of so many others guided by the System’s gentle touch before it, becoming so blinded by the sight of the stars above the sky that they failed to return to earth. And, with time, deluding themselves into believing that it was their own effort that brought them to that height, when in actuality they were hoisted there by the giant known as the System.

It always had faith in its own capabilities. One did not reach its height by lacking confidence.

Powerful as ‘Causality’ and ‘Apocalypse’ may be, they were not worth turning its back to every door aside from them. As a researcher first, artifact second, and mage third, it wanted for nothing more than to uncover all that made the interconnected multiverse tick. Focusing on a single path might be an easier way to obtain power, but it came at the expense of being unable to grasp the bigger picture.

Doing so would only allow one to be blindsided by something outside their conception and understanding. This, if not fatal, would always result in a grievous blow.

Its most recent tutor - that damned dragon - reminded Apollyon of this lesson, and the tuition was this curse it was now saddled with. With such a recent failure, it was impossible for Apollyon to simply forget to take it into account. And even without that harsh reminder, it knew full well.

Its past self saw early on that even in a multiverse filled with species with all manner of powerful inborn traits, humans were still able to thrive. They had the lowest starting points possible among sentient beings, yet almost every world at some point has had a human’s touch. You could hardly find a world that lacked at least a human presence at some point in time, if not outright containing a society that dominated the present. It was for nothing else than their [Adaptability], as the System put it.

Everywhere he went, humans would tenaciously survive, living on as the sapient cockroaches of the multiverse.

Their relative weakness early on provided them with a veritable maze of paths to power. For them, nothing was closed off. It was a sacrifice that proved itself time and again, given how widespread the race was.

Although Apollyon was not human anymore, it inherited the mindset that the more options to choose from, the better. If it had millions of paths before it, one turning out to be a dead end was of little consequence. There were countless more just like it.

All that was not to say that Apollyon would not make full use of this unique opportunity, just that it had to evaluate its priority among its numerous concurrent projects and not tunnel in on it too much.

Now what was important was to think on how to direct Niven. So far, it had two major objectives. Time to heal and understand its condition and, once that was completed, it wanted to escalate the war between the two dominant powers that were separated by the Divide: The Soul King Confederacy and Heavenbound Theocracy. The former took precedence as it was directly related to its continued existence, but the latter was also a matter of survival.

Apollyon would never have any sense of security if there were still powers hidden in the dark. Only when the world was less stable, and the backhands nestled within these ancient civilizations surfaced could it be sure in the implementation of its more extreme plans. For now, it was better to stay out of the public eye.

In the end, its current cursed form necessitated more proactivity after all. Since it was impossible to lie flat, it was better to stir up a storm. Half measures were fatal in its current situation. Only through knowledge could the detriments brought by misfortune be reduced to manageable levels.