Comforting breeze and wind pushed against the flesh and bones, and Razmund looked down and beyond the horizon. It was a new morning in the Hellscape, obvious by the soft hues of the artificial suns in the ceiling, and mist all over the walls and some parts of the ground. The scenery was the same as he remembered, filling the cave with brightness and size as if he walked into a different world.
It was quite a view, similar to his current face which was unnaturally calm. Change of ideas was inevitable, but his Hunt remained in his heart. What was below the current platform should trouble him for sure, but he planned to take it as a breeze and push past it.
Here, it was time to kill or catch the mouse he was meant to chase.
“What a breeze. Is it the morning already?” Lint added.
“Could be,” Razmund couldn't help but not show his impression of this methodically made Gate. Levandis truly created something spectacular that was unlike any Origin Dungeon, yet still so close to them that he doubted if it was right. All Gates used interesting tactics and ideas, making this place disturbingly foreign and pretty.
It was the best that Depths could offer for someone sane or insane, or if one was looking for long-term progress and chances, it could be their whole life. Well, as long as one wasn't from the Surface, since the three-year limit was a very limiting factor that he wondered about to this day.
One could give up their life and acknowledge Levandis as their God, live here, progress under the Gates, and see a new world. Many humans did so out of greed or opportunity, or simply because they held no other enticing choice.
Razmund couldn't understand why there was a limit for entry if Challengers from the Surface meant interest and treasures walking on their own inside. It seemed redundant to stop them, raise and give this temple a taste of a different nature.
Alas, the might to do the impossible and clash against his place every once in a while did leave its mark. It was impressive in its path, that much Razmund had to acknowledge since the worth and value one could get out of this place was no small matter. Perhapt that was why there was a limit. There was way too much to gain if one wasn't chained to this place.
What came with such a journey was anything but normal, as Gates went well with the way of power and clear progression of 100 Levels. After all, establishing powers around the Surface and other Hells, while considering the Sky as well, were all following such impressive heights.
Enduring nature far below the surface on its own, the flow of power around this place was hardly something Surface could imagine, even if it was not the former place of a Sun God. Now, it was not far from some places, but fewer people were aware of what lived deep down in this place.
This thing had already operated for many millennia. That much Razmund admired with an honest attitude, less prejudice, and close respect.
“I see you again, Hellscape on the verge of collapse like the Surface. Is that right?” he asked, turning to the stairs after taking a breeze to his face. “I bet the lack of Voice means a lot of things to your place as well.”
Lint didn't comment but grunted some noises.
Razmund waited for nothing. Following the stairs, as any human could, he soon ended up in the same halls and rooms as Murai did not that long ago.
“Wait a bit,” Lint said at last. “Things got feisty across the board so you should take your steps and mind closely. So what if a Judge serves as a mediator? You should take things slower.” Lint argued, but Razmund didn't listen. It was true that everything could hunt him now, but he could hunt them back; kill them all too.
“What about Levandis and Mindarch? Will they take charge of the Order like Judges do?” Razmund asked Lint who was flying behind him.
“Of course! Mindarch is below the bigger league, but he is a big deal. Levandis is...”
“That is enough,” he cut him off. “Of course, she will solve the issues because it is nigh important. But again... I have my mission. It won't change because the world turned to shit. Will Levandis stop me?”
“She could. I think she could.”
“Why would she do that?” Razmund said, still appearing calm but his eyes twitched.
“Encounter has not many fitting chances for Challenger and this chance could cause troubles because of it and your desire to do it. It came here without much choice or grudge. Perhaps she did think it was funny. But now? Seeing the mess around, I think calming it down is much better.”
“She can't stop me going to my prey,” Razmund said firmly. “If she does, it is wrong. Is there a possibility for some remedy? Could Judges intervene if she stops me?”
“Who knows? I don't want to see or feel repercussions if that happens. Anyway, you should wait to hear some rumors and get information first, before taking things to your head. Got it? It is my hint to you, Blessed mess. Also, nothing much is there to fix yet. Maybe if you will be a good boy and don't mess with this place, she will accept your tries and hunt as well.”
Surprisingly, Razmund paused, turned to Lint, and nodded with a slight smile. “That sounds acceptable. I will take that idea myself, so let's hear what this place wants first. Where is my Welcoming Party?”
Speaking of a Party, and Party around the corner, the only things that echoed in the hall were crisp steps and a cluster of armor hitting some plates.
A small party of lofty figures emerged from the opposite end of the hall, walking side by side and acting tougher than usual. This time, they came prepared for some potential troubles, so their faces and aura were a little bit firmed up than meeting Murai. It wasn't surprising, Razmund believed, but he wasn't looking for direct troubles if others wouldn't do so first.
Illak went ahead first, his killing intent was no longer subdued and seeped into the surroundings like hot wavy air. Tensing the walls and flow of mana, Razmund recognized him immediately. Illak was a famous General of Levandis armies, known for numerous dramas around the Surface, which included many Mortal Wars and even some Holy Wars.
Divine Wars were a handful; they hardly happened every couple of years. A lot of things would have to click to push Gods to this sort of madness, which mortals usually didn't take that well.
Razmund got shivers on his back, feeling that this Extreme was too much for his current power, but how about some quick moves or tries? Frankly, his time with Thar was no different from asking for a beating, so perhaps this demon was the same.
Feeling the power of an Extreme was very threatening when it had no stops to save some face. It was tougher, harder to tame, and similarly threatening to Thar when he wasn't holding back.
Walking through the hall, they stopped a few meters before cautious, yet patiently waiting Razmund, who stood straight. Handling the claymore's handle with his left arm, his right was touching some pouch.
“Greetings Challenger, Blessed, troublemaker, and someone we can kill straight away if we want to,” Illak declared. “We don't plan to do so yet and don't plan to touch some issues if you don't touch ours. If you do, mind you, we can take care of this outside or right now. Judge or not, do you think Levandis is afraid? I am not. I will die if I have to quench this interest. ” It was an open threatening taunt, filled with deep voice and power.
Razmund didn't respond straight away.
“Name' Tarzik'Illak. Illak in short, got it? Take it to your head, human prick, lofty Blessed, and someone who took this temple by storm,” Illak introduced himself, but this time didn't fist bump his chest.
He only took his helmet off, which he had with him this time around, revealing his swirling little tentacles for hair, and stoic, serious-looking face that radiated power and killing intent. His eyes were most notable, unlike the last time with Murai where he kept his aura very hidden for good reasons.
Now, he had no qualms to give to this human who was a famous troublemaker around this place. It wasn't their first meeting anyway. At least for how far things could go before or today, Illak had words to say.
“I was here twice actually. I know what's up with the outer world, so give me my Token and get this over with,” Razmund said, sounding a bit forced and calm. It was a good idea that Lint took with shock. Perhaps he was planning to be calm about this situation.
“A lofty one is in a hurry? Hmph! Customs are stronger than greed, human.” Illak replied and pushed something out of his body like a storm. It was invading, looking like mana, water, and wind mashed together. His hair swirled, and a thick goblet of waves spread, cruising through the air, ground, and walls. It was as if the dam had opened, and the dam was Illak.
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“A Domain, eh? You are looking for troubles where there are none.” Razmund had to back away and a bit of fear escaped his face. He clutched his Destiny Dice in his left hand, and his right one almost drew the claymore.
However, he was more clever than insulting. He was in no position to take anything in his heart against this general. If he did, it was as good as giving armies excuses to get rid of him around every corner of this castle.
It was their place of influence, while gangs and everything else outside were just mild additions that weren't all that important. For him, there were numerous layers of troubles that Murai didn't have.
Razmund knew quite a lot about the current politics of this place, thanks to the constant research of the Centralis Kingdom. There was no way he could keep up with his usual demeanor before this Extreme who was testing him.
It wasn't time to switch things up as he did with Thar.
This wasn't a true Welcoming Party anyway. He just mentioned it because it was a fitting wording. He could almost imagine a situation where the fourth, or fifth timers went head to head against such enemies in the Island of Greatness, or... was it even possible for a hundred fights to happen back-to-back? High status and continuous challenges were kind of crazy. Razmund doubted his next time going to this temple had any chance of being normal.
However, he did not doubt that his power would be miles ahead of the current time. In a couple of years, most of the middle portion of his Path Manuals will be under his grasp, while going deeper into this temple would be easier. He would also master his Sword Intent that could only grow stronger. At some point, his Dances and simple swings of his claymore will be a major part of his every move.
But now, feeling Illak's power, Razmund felt cold sweat on his forehead.
“Still standing, yet backing. Not bad, human. You have guts,” Illak said and waved his hand forward. “Not even taking that sword of yours ahead seems weird. You seem to want to take this outside, then?”
“It is a claymore,” Razmund corrected him but this demonic general didn't care for being correct. He got his point across anyway, while Razmund seemed to understand his currently tested position. It wasn't as if Illak wanted to do this either, but a good reminder it was.
Meeting an Extreme was dangerous and redundant for Razmund. It was dubious for anyone, whether the world was wrong or right.
So what if it was a sensitive situation? It was why Illak had to attend this welcome. Following his gesture, Illak finished spreading part of his Domain. Then he tossed the Token to Razmund as if he were a dog.
Razmund caught it, almost crouching to the ground, surprised Illak even gave it to him. The Token looked as he expected: thin, handful, and with symbols of this Gate and Lurrs, looking like a bunch of horns, wings, and runes around it. It seemed his Token hadn't changed much from the last time, so he took it, storing it in his pocket since keeping it close and secure was fairly important.
Well, perhaps it wasn't the case now, considering what an utter shitfest was happening, or what was yet to happen. One could also put this Token to their chest by a pin, but that was an open provocation that rarely sounded right. It was for those seeking roubles, for it was like sticking meat on sticks to a cage of starving lions. Most denizens in this Gate never took it lightly, so Razmund didn't put it to his chest. Not yet.
Though he did consider it, first things had to come first.
That was his prey and change. Thankfully, politics and information should be easy to get by force or money. He wasn't an Anatiade, whose beastly status was prominent in this place, filled with weird reverie and fervent doubts and fear.
Razmund had a different yet not-so-strange reputation. He should get every small detail about his prey, and he knew exactly where to look for things.
Alas, since Murai had a good heads-up, things could be different and difficult.
After taking the Token, Razmund was calmer around Illak. Giving it to him meant that the Order of this Token was still working, which meant that Levandis was taking these Gates and Challengers seriously.
That was good news or a questionable decision. Perhaps she couldn't do much.
He wished for direct confirmation from Mindarch, but Illak acted with warnings and open threats well enough, looking as if there was something else going on right now. A war, perhaps? Was it some Surface tension, or something going on between this Hell and Surface?
Razmund was clueless and unwilling to care about it. Only God could change the situation for the better. No Extremes were fit for that unless they were tasked by Gods to forcefully calm some stress.
Going through the Hellscape won't take just a couple of hours for him even if his target would be close. It didn't mean he could catch Murai easily either, but it didn't mean he couldn't try some exploit or forceful methods.
In his way, Razmund was switching his hunt to something else, which depended less on his Dice. He planned to toss it fewer times in this place for sure, thanks to this place that was relatively flat and straight, while the information gathering proved the rest.
Alas, his foes had better preparations and were hiding somewhere in this wild cave. There was nothing better than adjusting some things when he would know what to expect, meet, and see.
Raznund knew he was much stronger than his prey anyway; he had full intention to squeeze that duck again and be done with everything. For now, just before his eyes, his true foe was Hellscape and folks like Illak who could appear before his steps and hinder him.
Regardless, Razmund also had a lofty idea. A solution to his unique problem that no Challengers would have. That was the use of his Hell Party, which must have been running for days already, squeezing Murai between him and his team. Razmund figured that having that card was still a valid alternative, even though it hadn't come from his head. Personally, he didn't want to rely on it.
He doubted his target could escape in any capacity when everything was concerned. Escaping to the Surface might be the sole possibility, which meant Murai would run away from him. It would be a pity for Razmund, whereas some Centralis troops would be more than happy, as they were waiting for that above.
Oblivious to Razmund, he didn't even know his Master was there, guarding the entrance like a beat-up dog, and that this temple had another party going into its depths. Even without knowing that some problems were pending, there were still some concerns. Razmund couldn't tell the effects of his Hell Party and if he still could think of it as something he had to use.
Using it meant letting his target escape, which Razmund obviously planned to refuse.
More plans never hurt, his master used to tell. Well, with the world turned to shit, perhaps expecting more was less. Levandis could use her armies and put forth some curfew around this whole temple.
Could his Party be long gone? No longer ongoing? Wondering about it wasn't fitting at this moment. What sort of storm was about to start in this Gate was what Razmund wanted, oblivious to Illak's intentions.
It was yet to start, so Razmund took a deep breath and reconsidered his needs. It was exactly like Lint said. Information was crucial. Not being an idiot was another thing.
“So, what then? Can I leave already, or what do you wish for when you treat me like a vagabond, general?” Razmund asked calmly, almost bowing to this Extreme.
“I am about to give you some piece of advice, human.”
“Don't need one.”
“Didn't ask,” Illak grunted, forced his Domain again, and stepped forward. “Any bad move and you are free to seek your End. Leave the general population out of your sight.”
“Sure, but what if they won't?” Razmund endured his pressure, showing no sights of nerves in his tone when the pressure washed over him.
“Cut them,” Illak said. “It is how power works. You prefer it.”
Razmund chuckled even after a power pushed his knees. He realized how funny this sounded because of his last Gate. Domain around this room felt like massive boulders weighing on his every knuckle. Squeezing his body to remain straight, his core was strong enough to fuel his Physique and keep up with this.
His body had yet to get any healing item or potion, so he took it by not doing the usual course.
“Sounds like a valid concern. Sure, but I have my target in different eyes. Other than that, with the Token in clutch, what about the portal?”
“Mindarch will adjust it in a while. Now... it is time for some last reminders. Prepare yourself...” Illak tensed up and stepped forward, cracking his fingers and leaving his assistants behind.
Razmund frowned when he discovered problems arrived for him instead of him looking at them. How unusual.
****
As the course of Fate was happening in steady, yet forged or meaningful ways, situations in the depths of this temple were bad for one little person. In a mountain-wide and tall room, Manager Kil crawled on the ground, feeling despondent, and knowing that most rooms were tall. They couldn't be something else, for they would have to be made for ants or birds.
The ground and walls were glowing all around him, representing words and messages of all kinds as if there were a bunch of papers all over everything. It surrounded him, close to his face and eyes, pressing missions and problems, and everything into him.
Screw you, Ravine, Manager Kil thought. Screw you, the one who cracked that spirit. What am I meant to do with everything as it is now? Why is everything so dogshit? This isn't under any jurisdiction, nor did my Lady ever state what to do. It almost feels like a war, or... her End. Just what to take this for? Is it even within my weight and pay grade?
He didn't like how the symbols and constant messages glared at him from below and all sides. Then, the worst things were in front of him, but tall and high in the air. Those were massive screens of grey light, runes, languages, and words. There were dozens of them hovering before crawling Kil, picturing a place called Screening Room that was part of the Codex and Network. All of these were workings that Mindarch empowered and Levandis cherished.
It was just a bit of an overall Codex. That was about it.
Below Manager Kil was a waterfall of problems, depicting pleas for help, information, words, or tasks by those in need of something small or important. Everyone was worried, hoping for some clarity, it seemed, and flowing to this room... and Manager Kil was just one lone Tontati. He ignored most of it, unwilling to accept anything since everything seemed important, yet insane at the current time. Be it from the Surface, some spies, or unhappy members of Levandis's Legions or Gods under her Temple, it all went downhill.
He was panicking and crying over this mess for the past day, unwilling to admit that he had no way to help.
And he was meant to help.
I am a failure, Manager Kil thought, shedding a tear.
By a simple few numbers at some corner, glowing in wide and thick digits, more than a day had passed since Will of the Battleworld and its Boosts ceased to exist.
For Mindarch, it was nothing terrible. For most living things, it was the exact opposite, so all he could do was show Manager Kil some sincerity, but deep down, didn't care about this mess. As long as Ravine was fine in any hand, it was not worth crying over this temporary mess. It was an idyllic idea stemming from something very old and devoid of normal life. Frankly, the Gods will fix it.
This is just one minor hurdle in this age, Mindarch said a few hours ago. Though it is something that very few beings can grasp or get. I mean, Ravine is one thing, but the... one who did it is questionable. Why? What for? Why here?
Manager Kil hit his head against the ground, hoping for some sleep. It didn't help.
Touching and messing with Ravine was like slapping Lordis in the middle of his backyard, so who managed to do it so cleanly? Mindarch and Manager Kil wondered about it to this very moment, though one of them knew the truth.
Manager Kil didn't care even if he knew the answer. At least he would know where the point of his frustration was. He got depression after the first hour of this madness, which was apparent on his face and teary expression as he crawled around the Screening Room.
He wasn't happy, much to his Lady, who, instead of being worried, laughed and took this topic and idea like a blessing that should've never happened. It was funny to her in all honestly, as it was clear that a piece of Lordis's beloved hope was missing, and that the Sky wasn't calm or pretty.
It was worth a celebration for someone like her.
Manager Kil understood it and did care for it. He knew many implications that not even his peers would know. Part of it was because of his status as caretaker of this whole temple, albeit most of it was caused by taking care of Mindarch's Codex and this room. He understood how Gods worked and what sort of desire this world possessed. He was aware of Ravine and some secrets, though it meant a tight knot akin to an oath.
Up and around this place, the screens glowed and surrounded him, showing mess and clutter of no pictures or words for the time being, because Manager Kil didn't want to see anything and anyone. He gave up.
Some of them should depict parts of his current interests and worries, but they could come and go, switch, and change in a heartbeat because Mindarch was the one creating them. Manager Kil was the one barking orders and doing work. Usually. Not now, even if this was his office.
Mindarch was present at all times with part of his conscience, giving screens life and flowing moving mass of greyish energy, which could move with black and grey hues to create pictures or moving films or create words or runes.
Against Manager Kil's requests, there were some moving pictures of people, humans, beasts, or some specific situations around the Gates, buildings, or areas. Most of it was around the temple, but some were showing Hell Haven or the Death Valley.