Razmund had seen enough of this temple to know what to expect. Its reputation and history were overwhelming in the past eras, poising as a major threat in the Somalis continent.
That started many millennia ago, at times when the Centralis Kingdom wasn't as powerful, but the cycle of power was neverending like the time when Settling Gods came into this world from beyond. Later, there was a time when Levandis raised her power, establishing her Hell Haven that shook the Battleworld as the newest form of Hell.
Levandis established quite some courtyards of her interest, which eventually became what it was known for. The Centralis Kingdom took advantage of the power of the Surface and their established armies and secrets. It was a worthy price, thanks to the numerous Blessed that had risen, died or turned the Battleworld upside down. Everything was moving according to godly or selfish desires.
Razmund knew all about it thanks to his interest, curiosity, and the set of decisions he made for himself. Some Gods won't stop him, but the status quo of such a nasty place was hard to forget or ignore. The rules of this place were firm, the same with the Battleworld and many Surface powers. Yet, an established power could Breach anything.
So Razmund had been on his journey throughout the Islands of Greatness for a good while, cutting through them one by one. Literary when he had to, or carefully when he was forced to.
Though he went through many of them very quickly, establishing dominance and killings, his time and opportunities moved as he expected. Not only he had far underestimated this choice of Gate 2, which was a known killer of stamina, resources, and talent, but his unique change of rules was eating into his reserves.
100 consistent opponents was a formidable army, and there were also potential variants of exponentially bigger threats because his enemies were already on the verge of Laws.
Level 70 was the point in 100 Levels that was very special. Meeting those above that point while being below that level was dangerous. But thanks to his Path, he was good enough to take certain leverages against that idea. Many martial-based Paths did move at different heights or lows, forming neat advantages against regular foes around level 70. Add to that he wasn't too far from level 70, his talent, exceptional Will, and stamina, he was an excellent Blessed.
These Islands may be a variant of the worst possible Gate 2 he could've gotten, but with Destiny Dice in his grip, he moved on. He thought he could afford it, which he did, but with deeply bleeding Spatial Pouches that hauled many droplets of Ancient's Blood and a plethora of high-quality Mana Essences.
And that was just the part of it. He cracked his head over the limits that the Voice or Mindarch forced upon him, while the bleeding resources weren't even that bad.
Not killing was a terrible rule or excuse to have. Especially in this sort of Gate on his level. There was no surprise in his heart that he was defying that rule, and much to the aforementioned punishments of ignoring these rules, he killed the foes that were impossible to not kill.
Those were mostly annoying opponents, arrogant, or too bloodthirsty demons or beasts that went at him regardless of their health or life. Cutting them was fitting if they wanted to kill him too. It was hypocritical from this Gate so Razmund hated this with passion.
Going against the rules wasn't as dangerous of a prospect by itself if one could afford it. It wasn't as if no-kills were a requirement that would kill him in return. That would be too harsh even against the wildest of demons. Razmund was ignoring that rule because it acted like a reminder. A simple rule that he should think about for his good.
He shouldn't push this rule too far beyond his limits, or he will be sorely disappointed. Going over the edge meant a certain danger, while a little bit of killings were just a knock against that rule. Everything in the heights of Gods and Dungeons had some form of rules one had to take. Going against them meant to defy, Breach, or anger things that shouldn't be touched. Tried they might get, but only by those that could afford it.
Razmund was somewhere between those lines, as he had ignored such rules whenever he could. He hated going against the proper flow, albeit he often regretted that more than once or thrice.
This Gate was up there in the heights that could crush him. And it already did, but not in this Gate. Zao was a terrific opponent that should've killed him, crashing this whole Encounter to a sudden end and obliterating a situation that went through many hands and minds.
But that didn't happen, of course. Razmund carried many cards left up his sleeves, while the force of rules or going against them required further care.
He can accept some losses.
When he needed to, opting to use more brutal tactics was part of his Path and heart. Some temples or rules won't change it. Holding back was often not possible against crazy foes, whereas his claymore preserved its bloodthirst like his heart, giving him often no choices.
Regrets weren't a fitting choice. Accepting these results was all he could muster afterward, as anger and domination swayed his art and heart, giving him a thrive that had no bounds.
Against this temple, he shall endure his actions, even though this place was set to challenge the underlying laws that were above him. But it was all worth it. Just a few such enemies that he couldn't ignore or force to submission wouldn't shatter his Path.
A place full of Chaos and those who cherished it were within his expectations.
He anticipated worse.
On his level, affording rules and adjusting them was much more significant than one would guess. In a place that was taking him in much higher remarks and interest, he wasn't a normal Challenger as he hoped. His actions or acts of others changed that. Those could mean Gods, his Hell Party, or acts of the Centralis Kingdom. Those would change it more than his actions, or his 3rd-time status. Murai was also somewhere between these lines, acting as his target.
1st or 2nd-timers were usually those who hadn't reached that far into the Gate, challenging Levandis and her authority over this temple. Some could still go to such lengths, but it depended on their strength.
However, 3rd-timers were different since they wouldn't give up on their attempts. They meant troubles and true challenges because they accomplished a pair of runs with finished multiple Gates. Usually much more than 3.
Thus, 3rd-timers were intense figures in this place, viewing it as a challenge and worthy place to establish their dominance. It was similar to how many figures across the Battleworld dived and delved into the Origin Dungeons, but in this case, this place was different. In some senses, it was full of bewitching riches and more rewarders for the cost of higher challenges. It wasn't that old either, as it was fully under Levandis, who had the reputation of one of the strongest Hell Gods.
Mindarch was the onlooker, the seer, and the pivotal ruler who ensured all went well. Razmund bet it was him that gifted him this kind of distaste. Such disparities from the norm were something he deserved.
Razmund was taking them like a trial he had to fix, but not fear. As of right now, he had a rather unkept appearance on the 29th Island.
His eyes remained gleaming in the relative darkness of the night Island, shrouded by the layers of rocky cliffs that made up a dome. Breath unsteady but at least viable for more minutes of fighting, he was looking around with his bloody unblinking eyes, knowing that the fight was over.
He was bleeding once again. Expectedly. It was an occurrence throughout pretty much every Island because his Path established pain tolerance and endurance as one of his choice of priorities.
Sturdiness and sword.
That was all it needed. A neat balance of strength and endurance.
Razmund's Physique was taking care of most superficial wounds in seconds, but such stamina wasn't eternal. He still ignored attacks that would be lethal or dangerous for others.
Hundreds of little cuts and wounds smeared blood around his body, revealing droplets of blood from each cut that moved back into him at very slow speed. None of the cuts went through his skin, cutting into his bones. But it still meant he bled. He didn't like it very much, as the searing pain going through his core and Physique felt like he was grazing magma in his flesh.
Unblinking eyes did make him look like he was on the verge of insanity, but his mind was never so clear and focused. He was on the edge. An important time that any swordsman adored, so some loss of blood was useless to worry about since his opponent was already dead.
He put another dent into the rules that weren't like a curse. Smirking at the corpse of a blackish-looking mess, he accepted the dangers of not only this kill but also this demon.
Right. A demon. His claymore had its usual crimson sheen to it when he established his Path and One Sword filled with various techniques.
Around the Island, Blood Ponds gleamed in the dull light, giving everything a crimson hue. This was the perfect part and depiction of the demonic lands, filling this Island with death and chaos, and fueling demons to another level.
It was what one would see in various Gates around this temple, as it was empowering for a lot of beings that called it their home. For those who liked it, it was like paradise. For those who didn't, it was unkept and unfit for the Surface.
Locations specifically set for demons in mind were numerous, as this was a place reconstructed for them in mind. Murai moved through this place with relative ease, unlike Razmund. Murai was partly a demon in his Bloodline, so it made sense for him to not mind such effective places that put more chaos to blood or mind. He didn't care for it, in fact, or perhaps can't.
Throughout the Island, there was rough mossy ground with many old-looking bricks. Blood Ponds were accumulations of demonic mana that spoke of the bloodline of chaos, known to possess insane properties. It was very dangerous for most humans, as it was known to corrupt mind and body alike.
Before Razmund was a corpse of a rather large demon, which of course, Murai had no way to meet or fight against. The reasons were obvious.
It was a level 69 demon known as Karx. It looked like a mash of blackish swirling tendrils resembling a beast. Most demons resembled some sort of twisted beasts, but not all beasts resembled demons.
Mindarch gave Razmund his style of opponents for a good while, challenging many aspects of his Path or straight up trying to crack it. It was no different from any Challanger, but the degree of it was much more intense. Most of his foes were strong members of the Hell Haven who were costly or important in armies. Killing them meant a slap at the rules.
But that was what troublemakers do.
Killing was a norm in all of Hell Havens or even the Surface, so Razmund was more than willing to do what he always did. And that was to do what he wanted regardless of what he was told to. It didn't come back at him yet.
Not killing his enemies wasn't a style of pretty much any Challenger. It was a rare rule that Mindarch occasionally forged under unique circumstances. This was especially what Razmund deserved, as he knew about the reasons and how it happened. Centralis Kingdom had pretty much everything researched about this place to the T.
And this won't stop him, because it was yet to brick him like the sight of an Extreme. The situation where he killed his opponent without a shred of hesitation wasn't a significant Breach of this rule.
It was a slowly accumulating merit that was like a creeping curse that may come at him after going over the line.
This line was the problem.
He didn't know how much he should go towards that line.
Lint appeared from behind, flowing in all of his half-skeleton glory, and laughing and eyeing Karx and Razmund alike. Looking and observing the former demon of quite some value and worth, he could only pity the armies of his Lady.
Such demons as Karxes weren't that expensive to maintain or grow, but every cut into their army was cut to the heart of many Generals. Of course, Overlords didn't care much for those around this level, because those were pivotal pillars that observed Extremes alone.
While Levandis herself shouldn't even bat an eye to this situation. As long as not too many Extremes died, she would never set some examples.
Karx was a race of insane demons who were known to possess a very specific set of skills. Around their bodies, their tendrils were countless, capable of shifting as if made of mana. It created many switching weapons, and besides some severed parts of its body and tendrils on the ground, there were weapons resembling mantis mandibles, swords, spikes, and many others.
It had about a dozen forward-facing cutting circles and swords capable of shredding anything in under a few seconds. That was its mouth.
Thanks to the countless little or thick tendrils that acted like limbs, it moved at high speeds, and its reach was incredible. At night, it was like a shadow capable of holstering scary ambushes that could obliterate many established squads within the same level.
In this matter, the quantity of its strikes unleashed hundreds of cuts that reached Razmunds' body. Albeit with small effect, he took them with a sneer and deliberation, as blood was a good reminder to his mind and Path. His core and physique hadn't thought of them as something terrible either.
But it still angered him, as the searing pain reminded him of nasty memories. Pain or anything spiritual wasn't made of mana or his flesh. Although, they all connected.
The spiritual strain was a neverending problem for any Sword Sage. Especially for the kind that Razmund decided to pursue.
“Huh?” Lint slapped his face with the single arm that he cherished like the most prized possession. “You damned fool! This is already the 11th foe you've killed! In this way, the bonuses will be quite poor for you, and the line that you are creeping into is slowly moving upwards. And you don't want to know that, tru..”
His words were cut short when a claymore lurched around his head.
Razmund said nothing.
“Are you sure you don't want to reconsider your actions?” Lint mumbled after he changed his mind. Trying to appease Razmund's common sense was hard like taming one of the many Divine Beasts.
It was a futile attempt. Finding a stop to the madness that was close to being infinitely stubborn was laughable.
Grunting on the spot and finding a cleaning cloth from one of his spatial pouches, he began cleaning his claymore. Razmund turned to Lint after being over this demon and filth that was on his claymore.
“Some things are simply impossible to resist,” he said, “I do not need to care for some points or rules that you've forced upon me, Guide, or anyone else.” He spoke coldly, cleaning his claymore for a few minutes until he was sure it was in pristine condition.
Then, he turned to the section of tunnels that went to their bridges.
Ignoring the basic messages that Mindarch grunted to this dark-looking Island, Razmund was almost sure he heard anger from this weird construct that was sometimes talking to him, but not always.
The usual prerequisites to hear Mindarch's voice were either bad or extremely good. Nothing in-between.
In his case, it was a clear warning, since the 11th kill was behind the 29th Island. It was a redundant message for Razmund at this point, but too many kills could be a problem.
He had very little interest in the points, but what Mindarch pictured was a different story.
The fact that he will have to battle dozens of times will benefit him more than some treasures that may be of quite good value, but what was good, may not even be enough for him.
Razmund shook his head as the wounds healed. His Path could take it, alongside his connection to the Centralis Kingdom, which provided plenty of interest, treasures, and wealth. He didn't care for any of that, however. There was something much better behind this Encounter, hiding even behind his kingdom that was a mere stepping stone in his path.
Letting the Destiny Dice out of its secured spot, he did the same motion dozens of times, but the cost almost made his eyes shed a tear.
He didn't have to let Dice eat before every toss. It could usually last at least a couple of times before he had to refuel it again, letting its chirping sound eat his heart from the inside out. Not literary, of course. If that would be the case, it would be unbearable.
But these 100 Islands were getting on his nerves and he was running out of patience. Wasting time became a problem because he knew Murai might be quicker than him. So he had to hurry, knowing that fighting might be easy, as long as he was savage to him like his enemies.
Unsurprisingly, Razmund was right in his assessment that these battles would be extremely advantageous for him. That was an aftereffect of coming here, rather than his priority. He wasn't here to fight or to gain points, but to catch his little mouse.
This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.
And to finish this, he had to move faster than his opponent.
Which was at least half of the reason he was very pissed off because he had no idea how far he was from Murai. All that Destiny Dice could do was to point the direction. That was it. It couldn't do more than that, apart from chirping notes and eating wealth.
Watching the Destiny Dice bounce between the tunnels to the bridges, Razmund was silent while Lint was cursing him and this damned Divine Artifact that shouldn't be in his hands.
He cursed the human nature and costs that bled his Soul Flames even though this Dice wasn't his.
Soon, after Lint obliterated the Karx and Razmund took its essence, they both resumed their travel through Gate 2, defeating the foes. Occasional kills were inevitable or intentionally hard.
*****
Hours followed like the River of Manaflow going across the boundless Skies. 2 days later, the matter of the hunt was yet to be anywhere near the end or behind a proper start.
Stagnant. That was the perfect word to describe the Islands of Greatness, which had a pair of fateful Challengers who overcame many difficulties, set examples, and made good points for Mindarch. On the bridges or Islands, each moved through many of them a day.
Both of them already established a certain dominance over this Gate, but time was still a major enemy that slowly crept behind their necks. This Gate itself wasn't time-gated. Challengers were.
Murai understood how much he had underestimated his stamina and his means to go without rest. So he rested how he wanted and when he needed, figuring that the last days above Islands 70 were ridiculous.
Rest between each Island was almost mandatory by now since his constant shifts in tactics and learning his abilities did cost him some time and effort. And after understanding that Razmund wasn't coming any time soon, which was just a guess or his hunch, he felt he could afford some rest.
His current location was a wide platform that was relatively close to the water. The wind was more like a breeze here, making the platform the perfect resting place for his tired legs and stressed neck. It was a nice position, albeit right next to a Space Cage that he had yet to visit.
Before him was his 93rd Island, which was his great accomplishment that surprised Lisa and Lorry alike. That was still hours, or a whole day away from the finish line of this Gate as a whole, but significantly better than being stuck in the 60s or 70s Islands.
Over the last few days, Murai spent his time and battles how he usually did before. That was learning his progressively changing qualities and comprehension around his abilities. Some things hadn't changed much regarding his time, but some did because of the Islands themselves.
He improved at a steady pace thanks to increasingly challenging Islands. Of course, out of no spite but curiosity, he decided to take a first look into the Heavenly Shaping Tome in the past day.
It ended up disappointing him. What it was about was hiding behind the veils of locks and formations he couldn't even see through.
It wasn't good or bad by itself. He liked the challenge, but he hadn't expected it to be locked so well, even though he hadn't looked at it even in the Vault. It was sealed shut like it should've been. It was complicated to even stare at it, let alone open it. It was as Lorry said. Complicated.
Trying to look into it was difficult, which was a good sign since the difficulties meant worthy rewards.
Or immeasurable disappointments.
Solving the runes, lock, or twisting formation on the first page was the key to moving inside. Murai felt it was current. All of the tome's pages were hiding behind the starting page made of countless runic scribbles and lock formations resembling a mash of runic lines. Filled with intent and wild mana that was in a constant loop, it was always changing and disallowing an easy attempt. It was never the same, so he had yet to even see what Heavenly Shaping was about.
Like with Rudolf's Tome, this thing was the same. It required some idea or unique method of unlocking.
Unexpectedly, it held a very potent Intent, hiding internal sections of techniques about the Heavenly Shaping that fueled the confusing locks. Without opening it, it was like a soul-crushing formation that challenged the soul, body, and mana of those opening it.
Even against his experiences and memories, he had no idea what to think about it. That was the problem. He was trying too hard to look at it from a rational perspective and a runic structure passed uncountable layers. He believed there was something he had never seen before inside, but he didn't know what.
That intrigued him, so he stubbornly tried to solve the locks which were harder than he thought. He had been at it for the last day already, yet he was far from finding any answer.
Lisa argued he should've tried it much earlier, gathering the answers since the Vault. But she had no idea this Heavenly Shaping would have this sort of lock and complicated patterns. From her memories, techniques left out from Pillage Emperor varied and often confused the users or were hard to tame.
Tomes of this caliber didn't have this kind of intensity. Lisa knew it. To this day, she wondered why Levandis even allowed this tome away from the Vault. There was no sign of such a lock outside of it, which may be another confusing thing since it all started after opening it up as its owners.
Before Murai purchased it, opening it was hopeless. Money worked like this in this place. Until one held the rewards in one's hand, rewards were nonexistent.
Pressure arose, lines changed, and locks spread, starting when one opened it, revealing the opening page. Every passing page was locked tightly against anything or anyone. Murai accepted such curious things with interest and willingness. He took it as something worthy of his interest, and something that looked much better than what Rudolf left behind from unspecified age.
Hence, his time wasn't all that great, since answers weren't coming to him like whispers of Fate. It was similar to quite a few past Islands, which rapidly spiked in difficulty, making all kinds of brutal and clever opponents that crushed his tactics or body. He went to his limits at some of them, yet almost a dozen were before him.
Wishing to cry over the losses of some potion he was forced to use, the failure in figuring Heavenly Shaping was worse. So he rather rested, repeating the success he had under his wings. Holding almost 50 Flawless Tiers felt good. 20 Satisfactory ones weren't as impressive, while the rest were Fair Enough or Basic.
He accepted these results, even though he didn't know their validity or worth. Mindarch spoke about them a few times, offering to spend 10% of his points to seek his point.
That was stupid. Why spend points to seek the points that Tiers adhered to? It sounded so laughable, that Murai laughed at Mindarch instead. He wouldn't even use them here. They were for the upcoming Vault after this Gate.
Murai put all kinds of vulgarities to his beak, ushering them to the ceiling with his lofty attitude. He shut Mindarch's mind, knowing that the points mattered to him like his wings.
Lorry could only sigh, knowing that Murai would never take this bait, albeit it wasn't right. Lisa knew points could be useful even in the Islands but perhaps not for him and his status. She stayed silent about this, lest he caught it and be even more angry.
Murai took some facts into his mind, which came in tides of worse times. After finishing 80th Island, he had accomplished only 4 Islands with Flawless Tier. Few were Basic, with most being Satisfactory. Because he was often trying his best to fight and train, he wasn't the best or worse. That was passable in his book, considering no failure was under his wings.
These days, Murai was taking his journey worse. He was lucky and unlucky at the same time when he encountered another Variant Island. It had a different kind of premise than a martial duel. It was Island 89, where he battled a Low Lich, a semi-intelligent undead necromancer.
It was over Level 40, and surprisingly... at Grade S!
It was the only Island of that difficulty in all he had conquered.
Low Lich took him almost an hour to kill, as it was a Variant Island called a Hunt, rather than a simple duel. On a wide and complicated Island, a forest concealed Low Lich and his Hunt. Murai was sure the Hunt was just an excuse. Both of them tried to kill the other, as there was no point in forcing that lich to give up. But Low Lich was slippery like himself, cleverly using his tactics that came from his white Soul Flames.
There was no option to make it give up at all, and it kept summoning Mana Skeletons or Undead Skeletons forwards, while its mana pool seemed endless. It kept summoning many fools that challenged Murai's mana pool and the overall quality of his mana space.
Summoned Undead had an overall level of 20, which was right within his Level, so they technically possessed some defenses and skills that made them very annoying on a large scale.
It was a recipe for a prolonged fight, carefully decided and crafted by Mindarch so he would see the full-fledged limit of what Murai's magic potential could endure. It worked splendidly for that point, as what qualities Murai's mana space held were quite significant.
And he surely finished it, but at what cost? His mana went to the overdraft right after catching Low Lich in a net made of dozens of Proper Mana Blades, cutting the skeletons and lich to pieces along with a barrage of last-effort Mana Arrows. Stressed and shitless, the fight ended, yet after an hour of the fight, the bitter feelings of his overdraft still kept his mind hurt. For some reason, it was a much worse overdraft than the ones before.
Murai hadn't gotten many of them, but he knew why it happened. He considered this overdraft to be an accumulation of the grind of this Gate and aftereffects of the Fear Of Missing Out, Godmark, or Archtouched. This triplet of temporary blessings or whatever they were, touched upon some principles of mana or some interest. They affected him to some degree, but what did they do?
A glowing dot on his forehead shined in all of its time, poising as some mark, but he wasn't sure if it was something significant or not. He felt the Mana Flow better, however, so he might give it some benefit of the doubt. Mana Flow within this Gate was richer than in Gate 1, so if the overdraft's effects were much stronger, it wouldn't be surprising.
In the end, Murai endured it after some rest and slow meditation, caring for his mana space and both cores without leaving anything behind.
The Island he was currently waiting for was 93rd Island, so whatever was behind him didn't matter. Focus. That was what he repeated as he rested, along with some touches on the Heavenly Shaping Tome. At least he held another Low Key that came from the 89th Island.
Improved Level 25 Relic Artifact was thus up to his taking, so it shouldn't be that bad. He tossed it to Lisa like many things but not the essence. Not that. The High-Grade 7 Essence that went out of that Low Lich went graciously towards his Artifical Core. It was poor... He would bet that Lich would give him a Low-Grade 6 after so much effort.
His current Artifical Core was way out of the norm, as the Gates up until now stirred it in quality and an endless flow of Core Defying Fusion Technique. It was starting to resemble the qualities of mana that were reaching the basis of the lowest fusion available under this technique.
Which meant it was far from what he wanted because it was in the range of a few Low-Grade 6 worth of essences.
And it took a lot of effort and pain to get his Artifical Core to this inadequate quality. Literally every essence he could get from his kills went into it, with most being Low-Grade 7s, with Medium-Grade 7s being second common. By now, almost no Grade 8s appeared. Those summoned skeletons were part of the Low Lich's strength, so they didn't go through Lorry's death beam.
Hopefully, getting his technique past his hurdles will be possible with points, or another Gate.
As for the loot, Murai was much happier about it than he would acknowledge. He got a few new additional Spatial Pouches, and some undead and beast dropped various materials that were either part of their bodies, or their equipment was valuable enough from Lisa's perspective. She was generally the only one who cared for them, leaving Murai to focus on what he wanted. It was a good dynamic that Lisa believed was necessary.
Murai had a bad habit of eating some beasts he found good enough, but he still ignored those that weren't looking tasty. That allowed his stamina to be greater than your average Challenger.
All of the loot ended up in Lisa's hands, so she didn't find it disturbing or that bad. Lorry teased her from time to time, but Murai held different worries to bother about than a laughing skull.
His wealth was increasing, but what did it actually matter, if it was all low-level stuff, or it was improper for a duck?
Lisa talked to him about it, and he was correct to be angry and frustrated. It wasn't much. That was the fact.
Murai rather did not think of that, opting to think of something else. Food was one of these things. Beast monsters were enough for him not to starve too much in the last few days, providing his stamina with good supplements that most Challengers weren't able to take. They didn't mean any problem to him either. His stomach could take anything this temple gave him, unlike Razmund or most Challengers.
At this moment, he observed the Space Cage before an interesting Island that Mindarch established a couple of hours ago.
Not too high in the air, there was no annoying wind, and the marbled structure was strong enough to last centuries. This was a much better Island than most others. Most were on the brink of destruction or corrosion but still held up their physicality thanks to some spells or maintenance. This one looked too fancy, as it even held a waiting room before the actual entrance.
Lorry had explained it as they arrived here, saying that every Island above 89 had a new set of expectations. The maze of bridges and Islands always ended at the other end of this huge cave.
Dozens of Islands were the finishing line of this Gate as a whole. Called Ending Isles, they had many different structures, settings, lengths, or amassing difficulties. Some were humongous, clear like the sky, or dark like the abyss.
The one before him was structured like a huge dome. He bet it had an arena similar to the one where he fought with Long Zi. But the Space Cage was vague, disallowing anyone to seek what was behind it.
Murai waited for some fatigue to be over, and even slept for a couple of hours. Taking care of his mental state wasn't his priority, as Robust Spirit was exceptional in most of these cases. But the mind wasn't the body, even though the Robust Spirit had a certain connection to the flesh.
Murai was still unable to perceive the aspects and strengths of Robust Spirit outside of some instances and its Identity Abilities. He was still occasionally feeling the build-up of fatigue or tiredness like any Child of a beastly species would. It wasn't threatening, but he knew better than that.
Too much effort will eat him sooner or later. Fatigue can build up more if ignored.
“Rested for enough?” Lisa asked as she was sitting on the ground. It was kind of strange. Her usual floating style could keep going for as long as she wanted.
Lorry was nowhere to be found because he excused himself to float somewhere else. The skull had done so a couple of times in recent days, but he would come back in an hour or two when they rested.
“More or less,” Murai said. “There are still many Islands left, which is... I feel like I spent weeks here already. All that fighting and fatigue is unlike what I've endured before this temple. Wait... I did endure similar things before but in a different light. Hunt... near End, and fighting for my life. Sounds the same, to be honest. Week with that girl Iris was the same. She wasn't concerned about my complaint or health.”
“Again with her? Trust me when I say it, but you need this temple like bones.” Lisa cheered him up, talking calmly and without any holds. “You've been here for 2 and a half days. That isn't that much, considering you are before 93rd Island, and 3 Ending Isles are already behind you. I think you do great against this style of Gate 2.”
“You've already said this 5 times. Can't say something new?” Murai grunted.
“I am cheering you up and you complain?” She folded her arms before her chest, appearing hurt, and glancing at the pouch resting beside her. “This place is one of the most time-consuming Gates that 3rd or 4th-timers take with glory, warnings, and at least a dozenfold care. Well, at least in the first half of the Islands, there are layers to everything. Anyway, let's forget about such advancements. You are the 1st-timer here. A sorry figure, huh?” She smiled at him, appearing as if her smirk was laughable.
“What makes you think I have time for your nonsense?” He quacked coldly, sounding like a laughable squeaking toy.
“Things I remember, and you are listening to me.” She says as if it was a fact.
Murai sighed, realizing she was torturing him because she was getting familiar with him way too fast and well. She was growing on him too, and he wasn't sure if it was a terrible thing or something worse.
In the past few days, Lisa proved her worth. She went ahead to talk about the temple itself and the past she remembered. This was something she had done a lot because Murai was curious about this place that Lorry often neglected. And since Lisa knew about this place, he aimed this interest at her directly.
It usually ended with him talking about something that Lisa was curious about.
It was a win-win situation for both of them, as an equal exchange in the trade of information was often meaningful and respectful
“Folks around the Somalis continent are interested in such a place that has various and flexible challenges. It is a challenge that is irregular to the regular dungeons, as it is like a huge construct. As past Dwelling of an old God, it is no surprise. Simply put, you do great when I am taking your current accomplishments. And I was curious succubus, so I got to know quite a bit about this place.”
Murai sighted again, unwilling to admit he listened to her every word.
“Here we go again!” Lisa once more looked at him as if he was done with her talk.
“I know that, but you've already explained this to me 3 times. I get what kind of place this temple is. After enduring this banter with me for the past 2 days, it goes deep.”
“I speak freely,” Lisa argued, asserting her stubbornness with her words and arms folded over her chest.
“Yeah. Yeah. I heard this for the 100th time already.” Murai exaggerated it after feeling that it was about time to move on. “Anyway, how about a peek into the 93rd Island, while you will think about the next banter and topic we both want to talk about? It is your pick this time around. Do something worth it, alright?” He got to his feet, stretching his wings and neck before setting his eyes on the Space Cage.
“Fine. I will do what I can, but you still have Mindarch's choice. We talked about it, but you keep hoping to meet someone intelligent to talk about your species. Why not ask him already? You have your Question Mark, while the Keys aren't even that important. Leave them to me!”
“Don't wanna,” Murai said like a stubborn fool.
“I've told you more than half of what I've ever before, but there is a lot I can't advise you. And you are still dissatisfied, Murai Hisagi. Dissatisfied!” She grunted as she turned away from him, playing this game not for the first time.
“So what If I am? I am just fed up with this place. It drains my soul. I swear!”
“And here I go again, hearing how you are a poor little duck with a soul wrapped in a poor little loop. You can't take this for some sense, huh? Is it that hard to take some help?” Lisa said in a mocking tone, but deep down, she knew that she couldn't see Murai's stubbornness and truth.
What he had endured was way out of her sight, but closer to her interest than Murai knew.
“It's already the 100th time I have heard that!” Murai argued, turning to her as they kept their banter going for half a dozen more minutes before Lorry emerged from the previous Island.
“Well well, is the pause over, or is Lisa so bad, Lisa can't see from Lisa's eyes? Oh, does Murai wonder how Lorry sees things?” Lorry asked, directing both of their attentions from their unnecessary bonding conversation. “Let Lorry say that....”
“Shut up!” Both of them shot him down, one quacking, the other speaking and cracking a fist.
Until Murai accepted his decision with a flick of his neck towards the Space Cage, and with a grunt, stepped closer. “I am going in, fools.”
“Murai is already upon the Ending Isles, so Lorry expects a series of greatest results!” Lorry cheered, exaggerating every word to the heights of his possible expression and tones.
“Whatever you say. I will kill every opponent that will be on my way. And If I don't, I will find a way to do it anyway.” Murai quacked his truth before disappearing into Space Cage, leaving Lorry and Lisa behind in their respective conversations and privacy.
What was beyond the Space Cage was something that Lorry knew, as every single one of the Ending Isles had special kinds of offers and premises that were very open and public. There were a lot of things he knew, but there were things that Mindarch hadn't told him yet, as he wanted to surprise Murai inside.
A Grade S Variant Island awaited. One of the 3 among the Ending Isles that possessed a unique set of properties and premises.
Murai was in luck by choosing a bridge on a whim, and it had a pre-planned range of motion and even terms of levels set by Mindarch. It wasn't a duel to take some lives, nor hunt. It was a mission.
It was quite frankly, a terrible decision that Mindarch prepared, but Murai didn't know about it.
The level was unknown, difficulty too, or so Mindarch said before Murai entered the Space Cage. But Grade S difficulties were open knowledge about pretty much every Ending Isle, which Lisa acknowledged and even mentioned more than twice or thrice.
Something was going to be problematic, similar to how Low Lich cracked his mana apart, splitting his head in temporary pain.
Murai walked past the same old wavy space, arriving at the wide platform that was a huge arena made of countless bricks. It had no walls or pillars or rocks whatsoever, revealing the wavy space dome in all of its glory. Just a plain old flat platform was all about it, leaving every conflict straight and easy.
Beyond the wavy space, Murai could see patterns of the humongous cave that he traversed to the near end. It held a constant glow as if it was the middle of its constructed day. The lights on the ceiling of this cave worked wonders for that sake.
Murai spent barely a few glances at the ceiling, before turning to the countless rough sketches of Islands protruding from the waters behind him, while the current one was far above the water, revealing quite a sight as if they were paintings of trees.
Retracting his head from this already established sight in his mind, Murai did not need to see some useless patterns.
He rather looked forward, where he faced his 4th ''human'' opponent.
It was a child. An elven child that looked 6 or 8 years old at best.
“Huh? Are you kidding me?” Murai cursed inside, unwilling to do this sort of job because of his honest unwillingness to fight with children. He was forever pragmatic about his rules while being a freaking hypocrite in his mind.
He was unwilling to kill children throughout his many lives because they were hopes that the universe cherished. They were ensuring that blissful ignorance was the beginning of a better future.
That was one of the unconditional rules that he followed like Laws. But only for humanoid races, including those that he hardly cared for, regardless if he used to be one of them or not.
As for the young beasts, he had no issue with killing them or not, as the law of the jungle was a different truth, ensuring that some rules mattered and bent.
That was a separate issue, however.
Standing in the precise middle of this platform was an elven boy. He was looking homeless and lost, with haggard clothes and a small body as if he hadn't eaten in weeks. Tattered clothes around his body were at least in one piece; probably because it was a long adult shirt that he got beforehand.
He had no pants or shoes, while his unkempt blond air was dirty and filthy as if he wrestled in mud. Bath wasn't on his mind for a long time, making him look like a work slave.
But his skin was still healthy looking, acting like one aspect that was making elves one of the prettiest races in the universe. However, he was still far from such elves, who were known for elegance, cleanness, and powerful bloodlines that were part of the rich eras of many worlds and depths of the universe.
Murai didn't like this Gate from the get-go.