Uzbek had all the time in the world to decide what he wanted to do, but he did let his eyes linger on her more than necessary.
Ceila was glaring at him as if she wanted to bite his head off. Even her spear was firm in her grasp, ready to strike in the blink of a wrong word.
But Uzbek didn't care about her power, status, or her glimmer of a proper God under her power.
Ceila was a magnitude more interesting than he gave her credit to, so he took his time to think twice before acting.
He held power similar to her on almost all fronts since he had an advantage in levels over her, but that was about it. Just level advantage was basically nothing to celebrate, as he was long accustomed to this world and the advantages of power. Levels were just mentions of one's potential anyway, making them like stages of affinities. They could work from many angles, giving rise to suspicions and differences. A level 50 can defeat even those above 70 if enough merits and advantages meet the right differences and changes.
Talent and treasures often outshined such disparities. Gods were also included in this with their Blessings, plans, and gifts that many took for a massive chance.
Uzbek's age wasn't an issue; his status as well. He could act however he wanted before her.
But if he should, was another thing.
Ceila was a bizarre Gifted, who held power in an unconventional connection with Vermillion, which made her dangerous because she held a significant portion of her authority. Her power went along with it more than it should, albeit it was a topic that few fully understood. It depended on Vermillion, rather than anything else.
He didn't look down on her because of it, of course. He looked upwards instead, enjoying the view with a warm smile, knowing that the plot and his words were half-truths, but she shouldn't know it. Things and the plot got busy in the Sky, or so Zendurion judged before he sent him to be a guarding dog out of Razmund's vision.
There was no point in speaking the truth. Not to her, not now, where the advantages can be incredible and the drawbacks rather dangerous. To whom? To all the chaos that the Centralis Kingdom was currently creating and influencing. It wasn't about Razmund alone.
Uzbek took note of what mattered as he was a part of it before it even started, even though he shouldn't be. His level and prose were too high, yet the King spoke, and the world didn't take it away.
Those were glorious chances and clever tactics that Uzbek believed went behind the scenes. But it was not his time to shine, or Zendurion's.
They were mere proxies for something higher, but what was going on in their direct, or indirect involvement? They should've never touched Murai and his prose, as they were too mighty and out of his prose. At least under the norm, of course.
But under the common rules, which especially Tiar A powers had to be careful of, it made doubtful actions that shouldn't have happened.
Ceila glared down at him, knowing this damned man and the head between his shoulders. He was a troublemaker, but which Centralis wasn't? She looked down on him, not knowing whether he was a piece of bad news or a disaster instead. She could fight him for sure and even hurt him. Make him talk.
But depending on the equipment he surely had, depicting trump cards he suppressed, it should be hard, or straight-up impossible.
Sometimes, powerful people were hard to catch, or defeat without killing them. Especially those that were so comfortable, confident, and steady in their Path. This man before her was all of that, folded at least twice because of his status, power, and sheer aura around his head and face. The eyes were menacing in their light, seeking truths and secrets within their depths.
Ceila wasn't looking at them because she wanted to.
So yes. He was a disaster, as she thought. She kept frowning with a face that spoke many emotions, yet Uzbek wore nothing but a smile. It was getting on her nerves.
“Oh, come on Ceila! You know how time and opportunities go. You can glare all you want. That's just how benefits and power rule this world, and my actions go along with it. It is how things are. This world is full of it, and you know it more than enough. You may not know the bigger picture, or you fear to see the honesty this world provides, but you must have some clarity about the worst that could happen. If not, we call it naivety. You locals are sometimes all of that alone. Hasn't your Lady said nothing to you? Grown you like a pig instead, I bet. A lot too. I can see that.” Uzbek scoffed at her and backed away a step when she almost slammed into him when she stepped forward.
“Hearing that from a lunatic is the most moronic sequence of words I've ever heard.” She said coldly.
“Ever? Doubted that. There were—” A swing of a spear passed his head, but he ducked down, dodging it by a thread of his hair.
“Please, not my hair,” he begged. “I see how your head goes. Sure as the steps. Some things never change, huh?” Uzbek sighted and touched his chin in wonder when he backed more than enough steps to go away from her spear. “Doing the guarding work is not my specialty, but seeing you is a fine addition to the whole picture. Means Vermillion is interested. A worthy information that must make lots of heads turn. I wonder how many.”
“Enough with the chit-chat.” She said and picked her spear up towards his face. It was longer than he thought, because her arms were long, making her reach quite large. The sharp and thin spear's tip pointed toward his golden eyes, ready to pierce one, but he wasn't thinking about that.
“What do you want from this unnecessary trouble of coming here? Stop me? Go past me? I am just sitting there like a dog, doing nothing but standing. Truly. Sitting too, if you want to join.” Uzbek excused himself once more, uttering nonsense that did seem sincere, but Ceila was already catching on not trusting his words.
He was full of shit, almost blundering away from reality. Stalling. Filler. That was what he was doing because he wasn't in a hurry. His purpose was there in this sand, making him free like nothing in this place.
Being a guarding dog meant to do one or two things: secure the position around Death Valley, which, in his case, should be more them possible as a whole. This included the potential return of Razmund's little prey, which may be forced to give up and go back to the surface. Usually, that meant going out with a style, straight out of the front door, or from a random Portal in Death Valley.
The second issue was right before him: Helpers, or indirect ones that were to stir troubles or hope to force some opportunity against Razmund's side. They could be various, out of the picture. Vermillion was about that alone, for now.
Helpers were almost impossible to pick in the temple anyway. It was an enormous advantage Razmund currently had by picking his choices before coming here. Murai had nobody since he was alone ever since the 1st part of the Encounter started. Add to that his vision of the Encounter lacked a certain assistance, it truly resembled a hunt, rather than sides that were equal.
Uzbek knew what to expect because it was only fitting for the Encounter to possess a variety of politics, problems, and faces. He was also that since he accepted his prose as a Helper, even though it was questionable because of his level that should've made the other side viable to the same standards. Still, his pledge was accepted, for whatever reason.
Maybe because of Vermillion? That would answer something. After all, who was he looking at right now? 2nd Sun. Her favorite.
Uzbek saw the resolve, but also the lack of means in Ceila's head. Those were interesting, telling of many things even if she didn't speak of them at all. She knew less than he thought, which was weird.
As Vermillion's toy, he bet on his success that her church would mean major troubles. But here he was, speaking to the 2nd in official command of Vermillion Church and no one else. There was no indication of anything else, so that answered and raised other troubles or questions.
As far as the constant shift of information from long-range communication construct went, nothing about Vermillion Church, nor the Suns changed. He didn't know what was happening against Razmund's side, or beyond the bigger picture. Razmund had already gone into the temple a long time ago, so that was great. It left him to do his assignment.
The idea of more foes coming to Murai's side was a small chance, that had validity to its claims. Vermilion may be neutral, but no church was a simple place.
In fact, the mere presence of the side of the Encounter in Vermillion Mansion was interesting prose, but Uzbek didn't know the full details about Murai at all. He heard enough from Razmund, who spoke of even more confusing things, like mentioning Dark Mages, Anatidaes, and after some digging and a week later, Vermillion herself.
Ceila was someone whose experience could lead even armies to war, and they already pissed her off. It wasn't because they feared that, or didn't mean that. It was an inevitable part of the bigger picture that happened outside of their views and plans. Uzbek accepted it for what it was, like others did.
But he couldn't move past some of these points forward. Ceila was exactly that kind of a problem they feared. A terrific opponent.
This situation called for weird choices, and currently, the issues pertaining to her interests were driven by him alone. No one else will come here, probably.
Uzbek couldn't stop smiling because no matter how he glared at the spear, with some glances beyond, he had to stop her.
“Stopping you seems like an ideal choice, Ceila. I do have the ability for that, but not the others around. Though, it doesn't matter. This is an Encounter of my student. You won't make a fuss about it, or out of it. Go it? You won't.” Uzbek said and turned a bit more serious, continuing before she even spoke or poked his head with a spear. “You wonder why, right? At the other end of this conflict is a whole lot of problems. Variables that those beyond decide, or ignore, but it won't concern us. Skies are still watching, you see? Voice is also listening.”
“Oh, I know what that means. I trust they do exactly that. And they should remain on it forever.” Ceila smiled and stepped a few more times again, getting closer to him with her spear. Her aura shot up, and her level seemed disproportional to her actual power.
Uzbek didn't even flinch.
“If my bet is correct, I don't need my Lady to get her Will to myself. I see the world with my eyes enough. Your side is afraid of the rules under the Encounter, yet still stirred them up and Breached more things than you deserved. 12 or so days for playful Hunt is there. Seems nasty, until you feel a whole lot of trouble that can come out of it since I've seen the other side. Both sides aren't probably aware of the other's secrets, but that is how Encounters goes.”
“Interesting idea.” Uzbek reckoned and felt how the spear came handful reach towards his face.
“I can butcher you all, wrapped by my Lady's previous Will or not. That can be a perfect excuse to work, and killing a lot of people from the Centralis Kingdom will put a new page to this whole mess. A true and proper start, wouldn't you say?”
Uzbek coughed, clearing his throat, and taking a step backward. “You see, that sounds reasonable when you put it that way. I am listening and can't help to wonder what else you know. Care to continue? Should I take a book to make notes?” he smirked, though Ceila ignored his last words.
“The methods may be sinful and wrong. If the other end of the Encounter is used by me, we are talking about completely different things,” she said. “From what you've already told, a whole Tier A nation is behind it, so who else but certain somebody stirs threads behind the scenes? That reaks of Gods. Truly.”
“Oh, for once, you surprise me.” he held up a sword beside his hip but didn't draw it. “A hunch, right? Or you Lady?”
“Well, you lot already used some methods to get advantages before it even started, so it isn't hard to guess them. Just... the fact that you stand where you are is an answer, considering the other side. Using the Encounter for whatever it meant isn't fine, yet it is. How suspicious. Solving this issue first is my priority, and what then is up with the rest of you?”
“It's eat or be eaten world. Quite simple. A game of mouse and a cat. Kill or be caught. Eat or—” A swing of a spear shut his words again, making him dodge for his life and his hair.
“Shut up with those excuses. I won't let you eat me up ever again.”
“...but last time was—” Uzbek's words were cut short for no other reason than taunts. A thin-looking, slightly crimson and wet sharp object was closing on his neck. The spear's tip was the sharpest object he had seen, making the 20 centimeters long edge not that bad either. It almost tasted his flesh, but he swayed his head back, dodging it by a thread. “Sorry, I spoke unwarranted words,” He mumbled but knew he wasn't.
“You are good at it. So?”
“What are you here for again? We keep talking as if you wan—” A spear sliced forth again. This time thrice, wheezing through the air and going against Uzbek who jumped away with his whole body, pirouetting like a ballerina.
“Like an eel. An annoying eel.” Ceila grunted. “I want simple things: to make myself part of this mess and make you suffer the consequences of messing with my Will and my Lady. The second thing is my student being a scapegoat. A variable that you used, forced, and kept alive. That is a guaranteed fact from the way you've spoken, so one way or another, I will make you regret it. You or the city, or your little ass.” She readied her spear as she spoke, gathering mana around it of bright and almost velvety tone.
Uzbek sweated a bucket, whistling and clapping his hands. “Excellent tone. For you, but you alone? You see, Tier A power can offer many things. And it isn't something that a measly neutral Church can offend.”
“So what? Do you think I am not enough?”
“I didn't say that. I am fairly certain how handful you ar—” Uzbek twisted the spear's edge away with his sword that he unknowingly forced from the scabbard. He was unwilling to feel the edge of the spear with his skin for real. “...but the temple—” He tried to change the subject, but she wasn't listening, swiping the spear toward his neck, mouth, eyes, or his legs.
Dozens of exchanges occurred in under a couple of seconds, letting foot techniques, striking techniques, and defensive techniques shine.
“What about it? I can turn that place upside down too if I had to. My Lady won't complain. She will love that idea!” Ceila argued while striving forward, slashing with her spear at his sword.
“Her? You kidding? That would turn this whole mess a bit worse, don't you think? We are already making sure not to involve a whole lot of forces with our purposes. It goe—”
“With what?” She spoke when Uzbek stopped his words.
Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.
He cursed, noticing his loose tongue that spoke without thinking.
“My Lady wouldn't care about worsening already bad attitude between her and Levandis if you meant that. That is, if you mean what you said, but I doubt it is what you meant. Is it some order? Task? Price? Which Gods are involved?”
“Anyway!” Uzbek laughed, hoping to change the subject when she stopped her attacks. He backed far enough from her spear again. “If your Lady would go to such lengths, it means a lot of things. I wonder how peculiar of a mess she is willing to swallow if you are getting involved.”
“Enough to let you bleed dry.”
“I would bleed for anyone. You incl—” He dodged another powerful swipe of a spear wrapped in wild surging mana waves. It appeared out of nowhere. leaving a blood mark on his cheek. “I deserved that one.” He licked his cheek, brandishing his sword before his face. “Want to hear something funny? Rumors of Godrick?” He changed the subject.
And Ceila seized the bait.
“Godrick? What about that lunatic?”
“A week ago, he returned alive and well,” Uzbek revealed a piece of information that Ceila took for a warning. That wasn't good. Godrick was a very sensitive topic. Years ago, he traveled to a very distant place, forming no group to finish one of the most difficult dungeons in the Battleworld. The fact that he returned was already a good indication of troubles brewing.
Now, of all times?
A week ago?
Calling it a coincidence or surprising wasn't an understatement. She believed in no coincidences. Not in this world.
“And what does he have to do with any of this? His shenanigans are known across the continents, but in this way, you mean it as a threat?”
“Yes. A threat is a good term. He voiced interest in involvement. For whatever reason.”
“He did, or something forced him?”
“No idea. I am sure it was meant for the latter parts, of course. Right now, it's not right to be so direct, especially since it is that Lunatic. Every place is looking at the bigger picture, you see? Like you. Everyone is waiting. Watching.”
“What do you know? Haven't you told me that you and your little city want to prevent that?”
“Wants are desires. Reality is something else. There are a whole lot of things that are happening in this continent, let alone the whole world.” Uzbek calmly said, figuring that talking like this was too much, but he couldn't stall forever. Thankfully, the sky was changing and white storms were brewing.
It was about a time. “Well, maybe other Suns are doing something behind the scenes as well, but you do you, and I like this fact about you. So direct and fierce.” He cheered with a smile and unchanging tone. He even tried to raise his fingers towards Ceila's face, but a spear obscured his path.
“So, should I take your words for a thread not to get myself involved this time around because of some fear? Should I go to the capital and get my student directly, so my involvement would diminish the other sources of this Encounter? Hence, you will basically have no one powerful enough to obscure your path towards seizing the winning change?” She read the bigger picture, reading between the lines of what Uzbek revealed on his own accord.
“Hm? Yes. That sounds about right. Do all of that. Sure. Sure. Go ahead.” He nodded twice.
“Are you dumb?!” she swiped the ground, almost slashing his legs open but he jumped up and defended when a spear trusted to his chest, shredding his uniform, and leaving blood marks after dozens of thrusts. Blades connected, and two separated. “I still refuse to participate in your ideas, Uzbek.”
“I also expected that.”
“Why so afraid to speak sense? Involving a child is a no-no. You will speak up for this.”
“Who says the word afraid?” Uzbek raised his brows, squinting his eyes unhappily toward her when he backed and landed on the sand. “I see the world clearly, while you don't. Never heard of the Hidden Society?”
“No.”
“Then no wonder. It's part of why Godrick is interested.”
Ceila fell into momentary silence, thinking about whatever this Hidden Society was. It sounded fairly secretive; unknown to her, which wasn't that strange.
The Vermillion Church had a lot of information sources of all kinds throughout the Battleworld, but it was by no means enveloping every nook and cranny of every continent. It was barely enough to cover most of the Somalis, and that was already a great achievement,
5 large continents took up this world known as Battleworld.
And enormous lands of water surrounded them all.
For some abnormal Extremes, traveling between them was as easy as stepping into a neighborhood, but for others, it was an unsurpassable wall and passage they shouldn't cross. Hidden Society could be a foreign power, involving a whole lot of things that she had no idea about. If it involved Godrick, it should be that.
There seemed to be an organization that piqued the interest of a Lunatic himself. Calling her surprised and afraid was the basic principle of honesty.
“Why are you telling me that?”
“Because I want to. It's important. Not me. Not the Encounter.”
“For whom then? Me? You jest. You care about Centralis Kingdom and nothing else. Stalling too. You kept blabbering about nonsense and didn't take my spear or presence seriously. Is something happening with the temple? Where are the guards, or the party?”
“Where indeed.” he swung his arms around, wondering about it himself since his involvement with the temple was nonexistent. But he had his hunch.“True. You are right. I care about me and those dear to me. You are no different.” Uzbek winced his shoulders, turning his face to walk beside the dead Falconers.
Ceila let him do that, watching how he crouched and began caressing the bloody hole in his face that looked blankly toward the sky.
“It's funny. When met with the End, one can look at the sky yet see nothing. Yet, when alive, we see nothing but the sky, yet we still see nothing.”
“What are you trying to say?” Ceila said, unaware of his intentions.
“That you think too much into it, without seeing the bigger picture.” Uzbek got up, turning his body quite fast to clutter his cloak, revealing the second scabbard around his waist, he quickly swiped his hand forward and pointed upwards. “I heed your call. Judge!” He whispered.
In the blink, Ceila watched how the world turned stiff, and lightning storms spread around the sky like cracked glass. Authority stopped her mana, and actions and crashed her spirit.
She didn't notice it before, but after Uzbek pointed it out, she turned her head up. A light emerged from the storm, forming something that Ceila feared to her core. A Judge descended. A taker of the rules this world acted with.
It almost turned her eyes obsolete, but her aura kept rising around her but it crumbled because of Judge's Authority that descended to the mortal world.
A Halo: A depiction of the Judge's construct and token of their power. It was a humongous ring, swirling in a quick motion of white light, descending along the Judge down.
A youthful girl was sitting on top of it, appearing like an ant sitting on a cut-down tree.
She was whistling and singing some song, watching the storm above her head. while uncaring of what went below. She wore a simple long white robe, which fluttered in the storm, but her youth and voice were like bolts of lighting. Ceila heard her voice and watched her in fright. Uzbek was grinning like a child who got away with murder.
Judge's Halo stopped hundreds of meters above Death Valley; its presence alone cracked the ground and changed the shape of many dunes.
Sandstorms ceased away in the entire Death Valley, but nothing else was apparent from the point of the Sky or the Depths. Nobody from the Hell Haven made their move. Even the Sky remained tranquil, apart from the Judge's appearance, who came from the Sky.
Judges were independent forces and were mainly from the Sky, which was nothing but a nickname for many Divine Kingdoms of many Gods. They were takers of Order from countless Divine Kingdoms, living in their lofty palaces in the Divine Spheres. Regardless of the factions or politics, Judges were like enforcers.
They were protectors of rules, and their involvement was touching the Order. They appeared when something unkept happened, or many rules were Breached. Their appearances were either part of God's Wrath, tough to handle Breaches, or when two forces clashed without proper rules, or reasons that went against various rules.
What went outside of it? Ceila never in her wildest dreams imagined a Judge descending for a mere 1st Part of the Encounter.
There was no reason why a Judge should've appeared for her anyway, so what did it mean? They wouldn't descend because of nothing. Their presence and status were important like Laws.
Every one of their descent was to stop something or punish something. It was never nice. Most times, their Messenger was enough instead for a Judge to descend, but Ceila thought of it differently. She had seen this Judge before.
This divine character, albeit young-looking, was a God of some Path that involved Order to ridiculous proportions.
She didn't know her name. Just an alias was fortunate to understand because Vermillion told her to be careful of her. It was never a good idea to go into Judge's bad look, even though there was no bias. Only rules and Order.
Whitesnow was her godly alias, which many Gods took for their time above the Battleworld. It wasn't usual for them to go by their regular names, but sometimes, they were useless. A simple nickname to go along their Path was often enough, as they were masters of their Paths. Sometimes, they could even forget their own names, making the nicknames or titles important.
Gods were already closing on immortality, so it was no wonder.
Whitesnow kept singing a song, but those below her couldn't understand a word of her chirping. It seemed inhuman and complicated to understand the words, let alone sentences, and what they meant. It either spoke of the Laws she mastered, or she was singing for the betterment of her mood or work.
Either way, she stopped in a while and gazed down. Her eyes were white, with black dots in the middle. Her snowy hair flickered by the wind, and her white eyelashes went along her alias. “Listen... Listen... I heard a story. Once, or thousands of times.” she began her message, speaking playfully and calmly. Her voice carried special power and authority, shuddering both of the figures below, and even one hiding in the temple. “Work is due, so how about the proper way of the fate? It is annoying to descend for no apparent reason, you see.”
Ceila shuddered in disappointment. Her gaze was on Whitesnow, who restrained her powers and words. She was here to stop her. Ceila realized that but how can a Judge do that, or why? She wasn't doing much... or.. was it because Uzbek was a Helper? She had no idea if he was, but if he was, that answered a lot of things.
It seemed her thoughts were seen by Whitesnow, who sighed on top of her Halo, before conveying the message that her Messenger couldn't do.
“Child named Ceila, a subject of Vermillion. You overstep the boundaries of rules.” Whitesnow said, speaking in annoyance as if she didn't want to be here, let alone speak.
“Why?” Ceila asked with a simple forced word.
There was a reason for every Judge's descent.
Whitesnow rested her pale hands on her knees, sitting at the very edge of the Halo. She looked down, knowing everything she should from her position and reasons. “Encounter and Rules are stating the options and reasons. You shouldn't be here.”
“Here? What is the Centralis doing then, hm?”
“That isn't for you to question, child,” she said to her coldly. “Rules are there to provide Order. If someone won't comply, then we move. Simple.”
“Then why did no warning go along the Battleworld?” Ceila wondered that since Lia did get a warning, but she didn't. Unfortunately, Whitesnow didn't know the answer to what Ceila wanted.
This went behind the other reasons, that moved behind the veil that Lordis kept for himself. Whitesnow was just a proxy to some rules that moved this situation. She meant to protect her job and force those who ignored the rules, even though a lot of them were complicated.
And there were a lot of complications that even Whitesnow hated with a passion.
Whitesnow thought for a second before continuing. “A question shall have an answer when Order is tight. Not now... You overstepped and swept the rules tight. Understood?” she pointed at her, a snowy globe of light forming on her finger. “It ought to be better. Tighter. Especially as a subject of God's hopes for the Ascend. That is why you won't make trouble. Not in front of a Helper and that messed-up temple.”
Ceila didn't say a word to her back and glanced at Uzbek who wasn't part of the conversation. Not directly, at least. He was just toying with the rules, and Whitesnow was just a proxy to them.
“Just give up.” Those were the last words Ceila heard from him before the snowy light enveloped her vision. When she regained her eyes, she was no longer at the Death Valley, but at the edges of the Seventh Death Forest.
“Fuck! That asshole!” She punched the tree, obliterating it to smithereens. “Who did they pay? What rules and bullshit have they moved away? Judge? Why did this go this way when...” She stopped speaking, knowing that finding sense in this was as hard as going against the Judge.
She should be questioning her ascend, but it was irrational. She knew someone who could find some sense in this topic. Her Lady. Ceila gritted her teeth and disappeared into the forest, but not to the direction of the Death Valley.
She had work to do.
And she wasn't giving up.
***
Before the temple; above the massive Halo that was at least a few hundred meters wide, Uzbek happily turned his face to Whitesnow. “Gratitude.” He bowed and waved a hand at her.
She flicked her head away, annoyed. “Work ought to be finer. Tighter. This is just a trail that needed a fix. Not something that you need a concert for, but the rules are there...”
“..to protect the world. I know.” Uzbek finished her sentence, which she didn't like. Whitesnow snorted and folded her arms around her chest. She glared up, chin high, and moved her Halo back to the sky. “Don't think that paying with the rules is fine, humans. The Sky is watching. Us too. Lordis... too much.” Her words drifted until her voice carried no meaning.
Uzbek saw how the ascend went as quickly as the descent, and before he knew it, the Death Valey returned to normalcy. It will take a while before the sandstorms will spread around the dunes, turning this place back to its chaotic state.
He returned his sword back to the scabbard and sighed after this weird endeavor that he kind of feared. He didn't truly understand what went on in the Sky. Few truly did in the mortal realms, Zendurion included.
Unless they had confirmation from the Voice or some God, it was hard to trust some information.
So Uzebk gambled on using the rules as a scapegoat, while his status was high enough to move it around. But he didn't expect a Judge to appear. Messenger would've been enough. He was above the upper level anyway, so what happened was something he didn't expect.
“So, a Lordis, hm? Rules are meant to be broken, or something above changed? She didn't mention much. She just moved Ceila away without stating a warning either. Not even a word about Vermillion or Voice either. Weird.” He whispered to himself and yawned loudly as he stretched his arms high. “That went better than expected. Alright, folks!” He turned to his men who long ago collapsed to the ground, unconscious.
They woke up after some kicks and Uzbek's words, shuddering involuntarily. They were fine, but their heads were numb. They had plenty of experiences with meeting powerful foes, yet feeling someone like a Judge—whose powers were completely inconvincible to the naked eye—wasn't fine for anyone below Extreme.
They all lost their minds before even glancing at her, however.
Even Ceila was unexpected to them. Was it the spear that made her dangerous, her aura or eyes? Nah, they doubt that was everything they felt. That spear was like a stick for her, but a powerful spear to a regular man.
“I expect some order here, but our objective still holds the truth,” Uzbek said the remaining men, whose morale hit rock bottom. “You will be handsomely compensated for these efforts. It goes out of Razmund's pockets anyway, so not like my words warrant anything.” Uzbek laughed, scratching his head.
He looked in the temple's direction, noticing many lights on the pillars, as well as a figure hiding further into the entrance.
Thar was standing in the midst of the dense darkness, taking everything into his soul. He was questioning his gladness that he overstepped the boundaries. The Judge noticed him for sure, yet didn't make a move.
“Oho? That one... is watching too?” Uzbek asked himself, but Thar disappeared to the unknown. “Hm. I wonder how it goes down below, and whether Razmund's plan will be even successful. My boy isn't the brightest in terms of plans. He uses brute strength and rough power to deal with any consequences and then, he thinks. This time will be no different. Making Hell Party can only come up in his sort of mind.”
“S-sir?” One of the Falconers forced his hesitation away to speak up.
“What is it?”
“S-sir.. Your b-bottom,” the knight shuddered again, making Uzbek look down below. His precious trousers, made of Heavenly Silk and Thunderdust Gold revealed a clean cut, exposing his intact underwear in a bright golden color.
“Oh my... How embarrassing.” Uzbek seemed unbothered but still covered himself up by his cloak. “Not a word, ok?” he said to the Falconers, who all shuddered in fear. They had no choice but to consider his words to be another rule of their lives.
***
Down below, at the end of the Gate 1. Murai found plenty of interesting things in the Vault, but none were as amazing to shatter his current expectations.
Each treasure, technique, Tome, or material had a specific price that was easily visible below them. Some ranged from hundreds of points, but a whole lot of them cost thousands. It was at least easy to view all the information, making shopping easier so one can buy what one could.
Lorry explained to him the rules what went along with the points and his accomplishments. The Vault had many useful goods, but there were so many of them, that no one could pick them all.
Every little thing had at least a dozen variants, making shopping more complicated, since there were a lot of things one had to consider. For Murai, his opportunities and possibilities were endless and limited because of his body and points.
His experiences in many things showed his worth in most of his lives, so he knew what to look for. He bought 5 pouches of Low-Grade 7 essences. Those were natural and found in nature, so none of them would crumble apart by being out in the world. They had a vision of a glossy sphere, no more than a couple of fingers in diameter.
There were also rough crystals that embodied what made mana essences special and long-lasting investments. They looked like shards of ice.
As expected, this world had essences in many shapes, rules, and sizes.
He will use them to adjust the concerns of his Artifical Core. Each pouch was 200 points, which wasn't that bad, considering the price corresponded to worthwhile rewards. Each had 5 essences, so that meant 1000 points for 25 Low-Grade 7 essences, or 2 and a half Middle-Grade 7s. It was well worth buying them all, but 1000 points were the limit he decided to spend after Lorry explained to him that these things are quite easy to acquire by Demonic Armies and even further into the temple.
Armies had a simple premise: plundering the human world, so they made up these rewards in this Vault by more than 70%.
Lorry also mentioned that down below, there were much more chances at getting better essences, the further he went. It definitely hyped him up.
5 pouches. Each has around... How was I even counting the essences before? It used to be... pinky, palm, fistful in size. How was that again...?” Murai wondered about some of his past lives, but at this point, Lisa floated toward him, shouting something to his head.
“I found it.”
“Hm? What?” He turned his head, standing on top of a large table.
“A Tome.”
“Mana Tome? For me? Do you even...”
“Shut up and come with me.” She barked at him. “I am sure this is something that may be useful to you.” For once, Lisa seemed agitated and hesitated very little with her words.
Grabbing Murai by his beak, he shut up as she forced him towards the opposite side of the room. There, she let him see a series of well-kept Tomes, wrapped in the leather, glittering behind a glossy panel. It protected them; letting them shine.
“Those?”
“Not those. Those..” Lisa pointed to rather pathetic-looking tomes that were part of more tattered tomes as a support for a broken shelf. Each was worn down, stacked on top of one another, making the covers not visible, but the sides had some information. Each looked like dogshit. They had no aura, or power at all. They weren't even under any formation, or protection.
“Are you serious? It looks like I pooped on them.” Murai argued, yet still went to look at them closely. “Wait...” he halted. “Do I even poop?” He shuddered as if he realized a worldly secret.