September 8th, 461 AA. Approximately 22 years until the ideal cast time for the ritual

It was a bit of a logistical issue for the fey to actually get me the mana they owed me.

Magicite directly in the fey forest was still a huge no-no, so we had to park the giant crystal several dozen feet away from the forest’s edge. Then, the fairies essentially had to do the magical equivalent of ferrying water to it.

I eased that burden the slightest bit by leaving out some smaller magicite pieces, since those could go closer to the forest, and then had some cultists on duty to transfer the mana from the small pieces to the big one when they were full (which worked because bigger pieces pretty much just sucked the mana out of smaller pieces).

The fey were initially indignant that I would try to “deceive” them with the smaller magicite pieces (since they weren’t a part of the agreement and I could have technically pocketed them), but by about the 5th day of the proceedings, they had caved. Likely just due to sheer exhaustion.

“The ley line lieth near depleted,” Secondavia stated. “As do I. We shalt make haste to the next location.”

I nodded. “Sounds good. I’ll [Scry] you after you leave, and you can give me directions.”

She nodded wearily. “Just know that thee can taketh thine sweet time traversing to our abode once more.”

I don’t know how a being that flies with magic can stagger from tiredness, but Secondavia managed it as she returned to the forest.

“Don’t you think this is a bit hard on them?” John asked from behind me and nearly scared me out of my skin.

I did my best not to let that show as I coughed. “Unfortunately, it’s a necessary arrangement. If we want to finish the System’s directive in time, we will need all the mana we can get.”

John nodded with a serious look on his face. “I think I might be able to help with that. You should be able to get more donations if you have a [Hero] supporting your cause, right?”

That was already a part of my plan after the whole “fey can’t eat [Hero] memories” BS, but that wouldn’t have fit Kris’s character.

I gasped. “You’d do that for me, my boy?” I asked as I excitedly shook his hand. “Thank you, thank you, ever so much! I was terrified that we wouldn’t be able to meet the requirements, but I’m sure with your help, we can pull it off!”

John almost replied, but he was cut off by the sound of Placeholder’s most common enemy.

He sighed. “Well, at least it’s good practice,” he muttered as he took off.

… Yeah, we had to deal with a ton of monsters while we traveled. It turned out that larger groups attracted more enemies. Also, while I was spending all my time “meditating” in the Mindscape and traveling with a [Hero] who couldn’t know my skills, I couldn’t exactly [Disrupt] my [Monster Magnet] perk.

That meant a lot of enemies and a lot of skill experience for the [Hero] and my fangs. It also let my fangs see the raw power of [Sunder] on the rare occasion that a bear attacked us.

Unless my calculations are incorrect, Tim interjected in the middle of my stream of thought. We are currently not on pace for the mana requirements. Even with the assistance of the fey.

We’re going to pick it up here soon. I thought back. Don’t worry. We’ll get the cities involved-

My calculations were including the involvement of the cities. Tim replied. The people who give mana are the exception rather than the rule, and it would take nearly a thousand of them to match the output of your staff.

And that’s why we’re going to get tens of thousands to help. I answered calmly. And you and Cameron are perfect for making that happen.

I could feel Tim’s frown. You mean-

You told me that you and Cameron could turn death into mana, so… It’s time for the [Necromancer] to make a comeback. I thought. I’ll prepare one of my cultists for you to possess. Then, I want you to hit Gram. Hard.

-------

December 12th, 461 AA. 22 years remaining - Gram Capital

“Donate your mana today!” John shouted. “I’m the [Hero], Jonathan Andrews! Join me in ridding the world of the undead, once and for all!”

While he was undoubtedly attracting attention standing there on display with full [Hero] gear, it was only a bit more than the giant piece of magicite would pull in anyway. And to make matters worse, attraction didn’t necessarily equal assistance. Most people were willing to let the cart go on by.

“I don’t know how he stands it,” John muttered as he looked at the ever-meditating Kris. John wondered if maybe the kindly and portly gentleman would have more luck getting people to donate with his enthusiastic nature, and he was half tempted to shake the man and ask him to give it a try.

Fortunately, he was given a reason to do that in just another second.

A man on a horse galloped up to the caravan.

“[Hero] Jonathan?” he asked urgently.

“Uhh, yes?” Jonathan replied.

The man handed John a letter even as he continued speaking. “Undead attack on the eastern border! The [King] has requested your aid!”

John took a moment to open the orders and confirm the [King’s] seal.

“Right away!” John replied. Then, he shook the meditating elder.

Is that robe harder than I expected or-

His half-formed thought was cut off as the man stirred.

“What is it?” Kris grumbled. “This better be important or-“

“Undead attacking in the east! I’ve got to go!”

Kris’s eyes widened, and then he whistled loudly. “Caravan! Load up! Enemies to the east! Double time!”

John blinked in confusion. “I was… going to go alone to help.”

“Do you have any idea how dangerous the undead are, boy?” Kris scowled. “Not even Jake could take a full army of them head-on!”

He’s right. John thought. Jake did essentially lose to the [Necromancer].

Meanwhile, the messenger was watching on awkwardly. “Excuse me,” he stated. “My orders are to… give the [Hero] my horse so that he can get there as soon as possible. The saddlebags are stocked with rations as well.”

Kris rounded on the man and then paused. “Well, orders are orders,” he said with a sigh. “Go on ahead of us, and we’ll try to catch up. But don’t go pushing in alone! Just hold the line, and we’ll get there as soon as we can!”

John froze at the sudden change in attitude.

“Go!” Kris shouted as he shoved John. Said shove nearly knocked him over, and John couldn’t help but wonder what level the man was.

However, he didn’t have much time to ponder that or wonder how a member of the Embers would go about becoming high-level in the first place. Instead, he took the horse that was offered to him and took off to the east at his best speed.

He arrived at the city of Riverside in just a few days… and he was nearly too late. The undead had already taken over the port, and a bone horror was battering the eastern gate that led into the main city, while a dense fog made it hard to see how many enemies were out there.

Men were bracing the gate and stacking more material against it, but it wouldn’t last long.

John dismounted, ran up the stairs onto the wall past bewildered [Soldiers], and then leaped down on the other side.

The bone horror and nearly a dozen zombies turned to face him, and that was the last thing they did.

“[Sunder]!” John shouted as he obliterated all but two of them. One of the zombies landed a blow that didn’t even tickle John in his mithril armor, and then he cleaved them both in half with quick strikes.

“Gate clear-“ John started to call out when the last two zombies he killed started getting back up.

Right. Need to loot them. John chastised himself. His dad wouldn’t be happy if he heard that John had forgotten such a basic fact about the undead.

John put those two down again, looted them, and then looted the bone horror before it could come back as well.

He went to call out that the gate was clear again when he heard moaning sounds. He spun to face a horde of hundreds of zombies coming at him.

Stay calm. He urged himself as he took a deep breath. They can’t hurt you, so you just need to conserve stamina and not get grappled.

And so that’s what John did. He took every moment of respite he could as he killed every zombie that came towards the gate without using a single skill.

Unfortunately, the waves just kept coming. And they didn’t consist of only zombies. Bone and flesh horrors also joined the mix and in greater numbers.

Even those monsters struggled to damage him. In a twist of irony, the thing that made those the most dangerous was that he could level off them. He nearly fell flat on his face a few times. However, despite the lack of true danger, he would have simply been overrun if the men up on the walls hadn’t started counter-attacking with arrows… something they couldn’t do earlier because they had no one left outside to loot the bodies.

John went through his entire stock of stamina potions, but he could do nothing for the mental fatigue.

I see why Jake couldn’t handle this. John thought wearily as he watched the dozenth wave approach. And he didn’t even have the Regalia.

John heard the sound of an argument and then a brief scuffle from inside, but he was too focused on the upcoming fight to really pay attention to it.

Which is why he was shocked when he heard the sound of multiple people drop off the wall behind him.

“We’re here, my boy!” Kris shouted. “Are you alright?”

“Kris!?” John shouted as he spun towards him and the seven adventurers accompanying him. “What are you doing here!?”

“We got horses of our own as soon as we could,” he replied. “And what are you doing, fool boy!? I told you not to charge off on your own!”

“The gate was falling,” John replied weakly. Then with a shake of his head, he continued. “I thought you had to stay and charge the magicite!”

With a shrug, Kris opened his palm to reveal a small piece. “We can charge that on the go.”

“But won’t you need your mana for fighting the undead?” John asked. Then, remembering that said undead were currently closing in, he spun to face them.

Kris chuckled darkly from behind him. “Oh, I don’t need mana to deal with these.”

And then the portly beastborn suddenly appeared 10 feet in front of John. His leg snapped out in a kick that sent one zombie flying with a blast of air, and then he followed it up with three quick blows on a different zombie that were accompanied by licks of flame.

He looted that body immediately after. Then, turning to John and the rest, he asked. “Well, are you all coming or not? We have a [Necromancer] to take down!”

John shook his head to clear his confusion. “Yeah!” Then after a brief pause. “Party invite?”

Kris grunted his approval, and John was invited to the party.

All level 15… I would have sworn they were higher than that. John thought as he ran along with the party.

He was used to working with the adventurers that Kris had hired to protect the Embers, and the party cut a swathe through the undead hordes.

Until they finally reached a spot with half a dozen horrors of each type surrounding a young woman.

“Ah, Kris,” the woman stated in an eerie voice. “I wondered how long it would take you to arrive.”

“Stand down and be slain, [Necromancer]!” Kris bellowed.

The woman laughed. “I don’t think I will.”

The horrors charged simultaneously.

“Try to hit more than one,” Kris whispered to John.

John was momentarily confused but caught on quickly.

“Clear!” he shouted. The other adventurers and Kris moved out of the way immediately. “[Sunder]!”

His skill cleaved through 4 of the monsters, but that left 8 to take down. The party split up and started working on it as the [Necromancer] laughed. “It would seem my time is at an end. I suppose this is farewell, Kris.”

Kris spun to look at the woman and shouted, “No!” As he pulled out his golden staff. “Power of light restore health to my-“

A… shadow?... fled out from underneath the woman, and she collapsed as if her strings were cut.

Kris sighed with a defeated look. “He got away… again.”

John was about to remind the man that they were in the middle of a warzone, but whatever had just happened seemed to have removed any coordination the undead had.

“Mop up the remaining undead while I take care of her,” Kris commanded. Then, as he noticed John’s stamina bar sitting at nearly empty, he tossed him a green potion.

“Excuse me,” John said as he walked up to Kris. “I have some questions-

“It’s okay, dear,” Kris said to the woman. “Everything will be alright now. It’s all over.”

She began crying, and Kris wrapped her in a hug.

“Later,” Kris mouthed to John.

John obeyed.

He helped the other adventurers clear the remaining undead for the next half hour or so, but he returned to find Kris when they looked like they had things under control.

The man was walking along slowly with his staff and a piece of magicite out.

Several things didn’t add up about the man, so John decided to follow along at a distance.

The first problem was the man’s classes. He was a level 15 [Archdeacon], but he had the skills of a [Monk] and the ability to make potions.

[Martial Arts] isn’t restricted just to [Monks], though. John argued against himself. So, maybe he’s an [Archdeacon]-[Alchemist] who just happened to pick up [Martial Arts]? If he’s from Besti, that would make sense. [Martial Arts] training is mostly standard there.

Then, John finally noticed that the areas around where the man was traveling seemed a bit… less undead?

That has to be some type of [Priest] skill, right? So, he can’t be lying about his advanced class, especially since I can see it listed right there.

John kept following the man to see if he could get more clues but lost him briefly as he rounded a corner.

John heard him before he saw him.

“No,” Kris whispered as he huddled down inside a building. “No!” he said again through tears.

John snuck up closer and then peaked inside. The man was hugging the zombified remains of a young girl.

“You should have let them escape!” he said through tears. “Not the children! Anyone else, just not the children!”

John’s heart broke. He stepped out of the doorway and then leaned on the wall.

What am I thinking? Kris has been nothing but kind, compassionate, and devoted since I met him. Chuckling wryly, John shook his head. And System even told me I needed to go with him to destroy the deathlands! That alone means he can be trusted!

To John, and to probably most people in Gram, the deathlands were an abstract sort of threat. For the most part, the zombies kept to themselves on the other side of the river, and they only became a problem when there was a [Necromancer] to stir them up and lead them on.

That problem had become real for John in the past day… and especially now.

If Kris is going to destroy the deathlands… I’ll stick by him until the end.

John could still hear the man crying from inside and didn’t want to be seen as eavesdropping. So, he took a few quiet steps back and then called out, “Kris? Are you there?”

“Yes, [Hero],” the man replied after a brief pause, which John assumed was to wipe his eyes. “In here.”

When he entered the building, the girl’s corpse was gone, and Kris seemed composed.

“Is there something I could help you with?” he asked.

John’s concerns were mostly alleviated, but he still had one major question.

“What were you doing out there with the magicite?” John finally asked.

Kris gave a wry grin. “Ah, you saw that. Well, I suppose you were going to learn about it sooner or later.” Kris pulled out the piece of magicite once more, gestured for John to follow, and then started walking outside. “It is my blessing… and my curse. I can convert the power of undeath to mana.”

He gave John a slight smile. “Ironic, isn’t it? Using the power of undeath to destroy undeath once and for all?”

Then he turned toward John and gave him a severe look.

“I trust that you will keep this a secret? There are many that this power would… upset.”

Gram’s high command would kill to learn the secret of that power. John thought. And they would probably weaponize it. John loved his country. That didn’t mean that he was blind. Dryadal’s church would probably declare him a [Necromancer] and try to get him killed. Given their history with the undead, I don’t think the United North would be happy either. And Pumil… would probably be the only place that doesn’t care.

Kris coughed.

“Yes, of course,” John finally replied as he snapped out of his thoughts. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Good, good,” Kris replied with a laugh and a pat on John’s back. “I knew I could trust you. Now, why don’t you head back to town and get some rest? You look more dead on your feet than some of these zombies.”

“I think I’ll do that,” John replied. “Are you sure you’ll be alright out here alone?”

Kris smiled briefly through the tears as he rapped on his chest and made a solid thunk. “You aren’t the only one out here wearing mithril. I’ll be fine.”

That was yet another thing to tack onto his list of surprising things about the strange [Archdeacon], but in John’s mind, he had proved himself trustworthy.

He returned to town, borrowed a bed from a grateful couple, and was soon fast asleep.

----

I was incredibly lucky that John had overheard only my half of the conversation. If he had been able to hear Tim talking to me, saying that the children had to die as well, that would have been the end of our partnership right there.

Instead, my bond with the [Hero] was solidified.

Tim also reluctantly came around, simply because I told him I didn’t think the Mindscape would hold up if I had the deaths of children on my mind. He reluctantly agreed that future raids would include a small “scouting party” of zombies to give the town or village we hit some time to evacuate.

Because of course we weren’t done with our little play after a single act. No, we were going to have raids every year, if not more often.

The raids had the desired effect. I was able to harvest thousands of points of mana thanks to Tim and Cameron acting as mana converters. The added threat of the undead also made the usually apathetic citizens of Gram and Dryadal more than willing to part with a few points of mana to ensure that grisly scenes like the ones that played out at Riverside didn’t occur again.

However, the raid also had some effects that I wouldn’t come to understand until later.

The Gram army began increasing their drilling.

The Church in Dryadal re-discovered/re-established the [Paladins] and dusted off some secret documents about training heavy cavalry.

And in the east, a future [King] and former business partner looked on in concern at the happenings in the west and put out spies to find out when and where a certain ritual would happen…

------

January 5th, 464 AA. 19 years remaining - Wilderness

On a frigid winter day, during our travels, I finally achieved level 6 in [Temporus] and level 5 in [Spell Scholar - Temporus]. Or at least that was the day I finally noticed them.

With the exponential increase in difficulty, Tim and I grew concerned that I wouldn’t hit level 7 or get the second level in [SpatialTemporus] in time.

I redoubled my efforts.

-------

March 27th, 464 AA. 19 years remaining - Wilderness

“My lord, I have a proposal,” Jaonos, the leader of my fangs, stated one evening.

“Uhh, go ahead,” I replied. I wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but the horned man had literally knelt there in front of me for who knows how many hours, waiting for a time when I wasn’t in the Mindscape. I would have felt bad if I didn’t at least hear him out.

“I would like to train the young [Hero] in swordsmanship,” he continued.

I frowned.

“Why would you propose increasing a [Hero’s] [Swordsmanship] level?” I asked. “Especially since you’re my best swordsman?”

“Because, my lord, it will give me ample opportunity to study his movements,” he replied. “In addition, it will decrease the odds of him suspecting our deception.” And then, with a wicked grin, he finished, “And possibly give other advantages as well.”

I shrugged. “Alright, go for it.” And then, I closed my eyes and went back to focusing on the ritual.

--------

July 5th, 466 AA. 17 years remaining - Outside a Fey Forest location in Pumil

The [Hero] was starting to grow homesick with the amount of time that we were on the road.

Meanwhile, with my complete focus on the ritual, I was starting to… fray.

We took a brief break together to create a magic item for him. A pair of scrying mirrors that would connect to each other. He would hold onto one and then give the other pair to his mother and father when he returned home.

The break helped maintain my sanity, but I also took to journalling more often at Tim’s urging.

--------

June 5th, 467 AA. 16 years remaining - Deepmine Town

John’s mother was overjoyed at the gift, and the two tested the mirrors immediately.

… Watching John try to patiently explain which parts of the mirror to twist to turn the volume up or down made me nostalgic for something I couldn’t even remember.

Maybe I used to help my parents the same way back on Earth.

I excused myself quickly and got back to my writing.

------

May 25th, 473 AA. 10 years remaining - Outside a Dryadal forest that used to host the fey

I attempted to contact Secondavia via [Scry] as I always did when she moved, but she didn’t even jeer me. She simply lay there, collapsed on the forest floor.

Exhaustion was setting in, even for the fey. And, given her oaths, she was currently pushed beyond what was feasible.

I ordered us to spend some more time in the cities for the meantime to give them a chance to recover, and I also stockpiled some stories to share with them.

… And a cultist or two, who I wouldn’t mind giving up all their memories.

-----

June 12th, 473 AA. 10 years remaining - Inside Bastion, Dryadal City-state of war

I finally realized the consequences of my undead “plays.” The world was gearing up to fight the undead, and any army that could take down a horde of zombies could also be used to majorly inconvenience my plans.

I ordered my speakers to start recruiting. I wanted more Children of the Flame, mercenaries, or anyone else willing to swear some rather restrictive oaths about protecting a ritual.

------

August 2nd, 475 AA. 8 years remaining - Outside a small, southern Dryadal town ravaged by the undead

The [Hero] was beginning to grow impatient. Honestly, I had been lucky that he had lasted 15 years before he started truly complaining. Since he had left home at 18… he’d been with us for nearly half his life.

We got into a heated argument, but in the end, he came back and apologized to me.

He was just tired of all the death and destruction and that the elusive [Necromancer] always got away.

Needless to say, he still had no clue of my involvement. I planned to keep it that way… even as I plotted the best way to deal with him.

------

April 7th, 482 AA. 2 years remaining - In the east at one of my obelisks

We stopped by one of my obelisks to see if I could get any subclass levels that would be helpful. [Magic Researcher] went from 6… to 7.

I was severely disappointed, both at the monumental effort it had taken to get there and the lackluster skill I got. [Spell Recollection].

The name was hardly indicative of what it did. It was a passive skill that made it easier to recreate spells I didn’t know after seeing them cast just once. In other words, entirely useless for casting a giant [Temporus] ritual.

However, the extra level would strengthen the other [Magic Researcher] skills, including [Spell Failure Resistance].

… I knew I was going to need that one.

------

June 4th, 482 AA. 1 year remaining - Outside a Fey Forest Location in Gram

I achieved level 7 in [Temporus] and 2 in [SpatialTemporus].

I could now relax my practicing and focus on the remaining matters… like dealing with the [Hero], the crystal that was still concerningly not full, and contingencies for certain inevitable betrayals.

------

March 25th, 483 AA. 6 months remaining - Outside a Fey Forest Location in Gram

“Jubilation!” came a shout that jolted me from my writing. “Thanks to the four seasons! My people art free!”

I looked over at the forest where Secondavia was shouting and then at one of my cultists. “Is she shouting what I think she is?” I asked.

“I am unsure, my lord,” the man replied with a bow. “They haven’t been casting [Translate] in quite some time… But I wager the cheering is because the crystal is at full capacity.”

“We hath completed thy impossible task!” Secondavia shouted over to me. “Ne’erdowell! Scoundrel! Trickster! Now, may we never see the sight of thee again!”

She flew away, and I called out after her.

“Well, if you do, something went terribly wrong, so I hope I don’t see you again either!”

She turned around to stick her tongue out at me and then disappeared into the forest.

I had Tim run the numbers, just to be certain, and he made an educated guess that we would have just enough mana to make it work with the smaller crystals added in.

That meant it was time to move out… and time to finally deal with the [Hero].

“Listen to me closely,” I told my fangs and speakers later that night, with the [Hero] sent away on patrol. “It is finally time to deal with the [Hero].”

One of them, the fang’s version of a [Rogue], licked his lips and pulled out a dagger.

I sighed. “No, Braern,” I stated. “We are not going to attempt to kill the [Hero] in combat. What is the rule for fighting [Heroes]?”

“You must be 100% sure,” he replied dutifully. “But, my lord! We outnumber him severely and-“

“And I bet none of you can really damage him,” I stated bluntly. “His armor is too strong. To make matters worse, he just has to land a single [Sunder] on me, or worse a [Heroic Sacrifice], and all of our plans go up in smoke.” I shook my head. “No, what we’re going to do is offer the [Hero] a quest and confirm it with a fake System message- “

I should have realized that the outspoken elf wasn’t keen to go along with my plan from the get-go, but I trusted that my fangs, the hand-picked soldiers I had raised to level 25 would surely do what I told them.

I was naïve.

-------

John was heading back to the camp from a routine patrol when he heard the voice.

“Jonathan Andrews!” Braern shouted.

“What is it?” John asked, already on guard because of the urgency of the shout.

“Quickly, one of the Ch- Embers is in danger!”

John started following along but quickly fell behind the much more agile [Rogue].

“Nothing for it,” he muttered. “Activate everyday mode.”

His armor shifted into light pants and a shirt, and he chased after the elf.

They ran for about a minute in silence, the other slowing down just a bit to let him keep up, and then John finally spoke up.

“Where are they? And how did you know?”

Braern stopped, facing away from John. “Well, I suppose this is far enough,” he stated softly.

John cocked his head in confusion, but before he could speak, the man vanished, and a solid shadow took his place.

That was concerning… but not as much as the knife that entered John’s back and took more than half of his HP.

System: You are stunned and are unable to act

John was stunned in both meanings of the word, but as Braern pulled the knife out, his instincts honed over years of battle kicked in.

“Activate adamantium mode!” he managed to get out before the knife could land a second time.

His armor obliged and formed into the jet-black metal, and Braern’s knife bounced off harmlessly.

“You have no idea how long I waited for this,” Braern stated as he kicked John to the ground and pulled a small bag out of his inventory. “My master always said to be 100% sure before fighting the [Hero], but all it takes is a little concentrated scorpion venom and then something to deal with the turtle once it goes into its shell.” Braern chuckled darkly. “And even a [Hero] needs to breathe.”

He dropped the bag near John’s face. It let out a puff of smoke, and John started coughing, with his HP draining.

“Why?” he croaked out.

“Ah yes, forgive me,” Braern said mockingly. “We have yet to be introduced. You call me Braern, but in truth, I have long since cast off that name.”

The elf’s eyes turned red, and he laughed. “I am the 6th [Fang of the Demon Lord], the Poisoner. And your death will earn me the title of first.”

As the man launched into his story about how he was only rated so lowly because he had yet to discover the materials he needed, John was focused elsewhere.

Move, body! Move! He shouted to himself as his health bar ticked lower. You’re the [Hero] of Placeholder, and you’re not dying like this!

His body, and System, agreed.

System: Heroic Mentality detected. “Press on through difficulty”

System: Heroic skill unlocked. Grit

With a warcry, John shoved himself back up to his feet and readied his sword unsteadily.

Braern’s monologue stopped instantly.

“Oh no,” he whispered. “My lord will be furious.”

John expected to find himself in a fight for his life after that, but the 6th fang… ran.

John looked down at his armored form.

I guess this is a bad match for him now. He thought. Even if the [Rogue]… or [Fang of the Demon Lord]… managed to get another [Backstab], he was sure that it wouldn’t be enough to damage him.

However, if the [Demon Lord] had his elite troops among them for so long… John grimaced. He was making his move right now. John didn’t know who he could trust, but he did know that he had to get back to the camp and warn Kris.

“Activate stealth mode,” John whispered as he snuck back toward camp. It was an odd mode that he never really had needed to use, but the dark leather did help him to hide.

He managed to avoid the other guards’ patrols since he was intimately familiar with them after years of travel and made it to Braern’s tent.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

The elf wasn’t there, but John found him soon enough.

Braern was walking with Kris, and John went on high alert. He’s going to attack! In the middle of camp! However, right as he was about to pull his sword from his inventory, Kris hissed at Braern.

“You idiot! This is why I told you not to fight the [Hero]!”

At first, John couldn’t believe his ears. He had to have misunderstood. However, as Braern practically groveled to the man, John knew.

Kris was a traitor. He was working for the [Demon Lord].

At least they’re both lined up for me. John thought grimly as he prepared to take care of both pieces of scum with a single [Sunder]. He hesitated a moment because he had never used it on a man before, and his hesitation saved his life.

System : Stop

John’s eyes widened at the sudden message, and he ducked back behind a nearby tent.

System : Before you run off half-cocked, let me show you what you’re up against. [Increase Illusion Resist]

The veil was pulled back, and suddenly John could see. Where before, he saw groups of friendly Embers milling about, he now suddenly saw the red-eyed followers of the [Demon Lord] everywhere. He was surrounded by enemies.

He peeked back around the corner at Kris… and his worst suspicions were confirmed as he saw his armored enemy.

The [Demon Lord]. I’ve been helping the [Demon Lord] all along. His mind didn’t know how to cope with that, but fortunately, the System messages kept coming.

System : Now, before you go off and try to take down the entire cult alone, just know that you will in fact die before you get more than half of them

System : So what you’re going to do, is you’re going to limp back into camp and play dumb. Understand? If you do, the [Demon Lord] will send you off on a quest far off in the west to his castle. He thinks it will put you out of the way for the ritual, but it won’t

System : In the meantime, contact your dad. Let him know what’s going on and have him get an army to march against the deathlands 5 months from now. But secretly, the cult has eyes and ears everywhere

“And why should I trust you?” John finally asked in a whisper. “You don’t speak like System, and I now know that even System’s exalted title can be forged.”

System : Proof… Proof… Oh. [Override Hero Selection]. I’m literally the reason you’re the Hero. That work for you?

John’s eyes shot open. I never told anyone of that. John nodded slowly. “Very well, but if anything goes differently than you’ve told me, I’m taking the [Demon Lord] down immediately, even should I die for it.”

System : Works for me. Now, hurry up. They’re going to wonder where you are

And so, John snuck back out of camp, just to limp back into camp with his full adamantium armor on. The [Demon Lord] acted concerned for him and even [Cured] some of his HP, all while spinning some tale of a threat in the far west that the [Hero] needed to go take care of alone.

The [Demon Lord’s] lies were confirmed by false messages from System that included an extra period, and John couldn’t believe he fell for that the first time.

John kept his replies terse and declared he would leave that night. The [Demon Lord] tried to stop him but eventually gave in when John showed that he was deadset.

You better be right about this false System. John thought. If I lose my opportunity to defeat the [Demon Lord], I will come for you instead.

System : Don’t worry. You’ll still get your crack at him. And this way, he’ll never see you coming

--------

I gathered my fangs immediately after.

“As punishment for your horrible failure, you’re in charge of trailing the [Hero],” I ordered Braern. “Don’t attack him, don’t breathe in his direction, don’t even look at him funny,” I continued. “You will report on his status every day and let us know immediately if he turns toward the deathlands.”

“Yes, my lord,” the thoroughly chastened fang replied.

“As for the rest of you, learn from his mistakes. Don’t fight the [Hero] unless it’s the last option, and if you do, use overwhelming force.” I shook my head as I started pacing. “And the other mistake. Monologuing? Seriously?” I asked as I looked at Braern in disgust.

“There are only 3 reasons ever to monologue.” I held up my index finger. “1, you’re using the monologue as a spell component. That’s a fantastic reason. People never expect that.”

I held up my middle finger. “2, you’re buying time for something else that matters more than the information you’re feeding to our enemy. Not a common situation, but sometimes that’s how it goes. And that leads right into number 3.”

I held up my ring finger. “You are using it to misinform your enemy. In which case, go ahead! Spout all sorts of bull spit about whatever you want! Lie about secret abilities, tell them that you want to be on their side, confuse them with a random story about how you’re actually their father!”

I shook my head. I was ranting, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.

“Look at what information Mr. Poisoner here gave up with just his little speech. First, that he wasn’t an independent operative of the [Demon Lord], but that there are a named set of elites.” I snorted. “Second, calling yourself that stupid alias reinforced the idea that each of you has a gimmick. Never let your enemies know you have a gimmick! Or if you do, let them think it’s something else!”

That was pretty much all the information that he gave away, but I had to come up with something else to keep my rant going.

“Oh! And the number!” I said as I realized the final piece. “He now knows that there are at least 6 of you!” I paused. “Dang, that was a missed opportunity. If you had said you were number 873 or something, he would have really carped himself if he had to go up against number 1.”

I looked out at my gathered fangs who were either glaring daggers at Braern or hanging intently on my words.

Jaonos, the leader of my group, seemed extra enraptured.

I’m… not quite sure what he’s getting out of this. I thought as I looked at the tall beastborn man in concern. Oh well, at least he’s not an idiot like Braern. It should be fine.

“Dismissed,” I said with a wave of my hand. “Oh, and gather the speakers and send them in next.”

They did so, and my next address was much shorter.

“Gather everyone,” I stated. “It’s time.”

-------

August 23rd, 483 AA. 1 month remaining - In the Undead-owned ruins of Besti

The travels through the deathlands had gone incredibly smoothly thanks to our two resident liches. In addition, the [Hero] was confirmed to be far off to the west and planning to travel through the ashlands soon.

And I just found the perfect spot for the ritual.

“Stop here!” I called to the nervous group… well, I guess “unofficial army” would be a better designation. Our numbers had swelled quite a bit.

Anyway, most of the nerves were likely due to the zone being owned by an undead obelisk, but I wasn’t about to clear it out. I was about to add more to it.

“We’ve confirmed everyone’s oaths?” I asked one of my attendants.

He nodded swiftly. “Yes, my lord, and we’ve double-checked as you asked.”

“Good,” I replied with my own nod. “We have arrived at the location of the ritual!” I shouted. “You will defend everyone here, just as you swore!” I paused briefly. “Children of the flame! Illusions off!”

Over the next few seconds, there were gasps of shock as… well, nothing changed for me.

I need to find a way to see illusions sometime. I thought idly as a near-riot was quelled as my fangs and speakers reminded everyone of their oaths.

“Not to worry,” I finally called out. “Should this ritual succeed, the deathlands will be no more, just as I promised! All you need to do is guard the ritual for one month!”

Morale was still pretty much in the toilet… but that’s about what I expected when I tricked a whole bunch of people into working for me.

I ignored that problem and got to work on the next part of the plan. Specifically, making the ritual site.

I spent the 100,000 gold, plopped down an obelisk, and made a giant cathedral out of stone… well, a cathedral minus the windows. I didn’t want to make a whole bunch of alternate entrances available to would-be ritual stoppers.

On the outside, I made walls, collapsed buildings, and anything else I could think of to block all sides of the cathedral except the front.

I was forcing myself and my entire army to have our backs against the wall, but that was pretty much the point. The ritual was plan A, and there was no plan B.

As for monsters, traps, or even a name, I didn’t even get that far because I didn’t need an actual dungeon messing up the mana flows for the ritual.

With a nod to Tim, a heart of undeath came over and consumed the obelisk. Then he moved it outside of the cathedral to make room for the giant piece of magicite.

“You take Dryadal’s army. Cameron can handle Gram’s,” I told the two liches as they possessed a speaker each.

I still wasn’t certain how Gram and Dryadal had figured out what I was up to, but at least I found out about their attack before it wound up on my doorstep.

“Are you certain it is wise to send us away from the ritual site immediately?” Tim asked through my speaker’s body. “We could aid with casting until the threat is imminent.”

I shook my head. “They’ll probably be traveling faster than our slow caravan, and I don’t need a win from you. I just need you to buy time.”

“Understood,” Tim’s speaker nodded.

“Cameron?” I prodded.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Cameron grumbled through the other.

“Good, now get going,” I stated.

From there, with the aid of dozens of my cultists, we unloaded the giant piece of magicite into the center of the cathedral. I made sure that my 7 speakers who were remaining to help with the ritual were ready, and then I carved the runes for mana draw directly onto the giant centerpiece.

“And with this,” I stated. “We begin.”

System: Dangerous ritual cast detected by alert system. Issuing Quest

System: The Demon Lord has begun casting a ritual that could destroy Placeholder! Stop the ritual in the center of the deathlands before it is too late!

Then, at the top of my screen was a countdown with blue text showing 29 days, 23 hours, 59 minutes, 53 seconds.

Well, that’s new… but I guess I should have expected it. I thought. The System really didn’t like my ritual last time.

However, given that the message also included a quest, I had a concern that needed to be addressed.

“Jaonos!” I called out. “Any rebels from the message that just went out?”

“No, my lord!” he called from outside the cathedral. “Their oaths seem to be holding!”

I nodded. “Alright then, we keep on casting,” I told the other ritual members. I felt the magic thrumming in the air as they spread powdered magicite in the pre-determined paths. “And then we just have to handle whatever goes horribly wrong.”

-------

August 23rd, 483 AA. 1 month remaining - West of Gram

Like everyone else, John received the message from System.

He had been tricked. The ritual would be cast without him.

He turned around and prepared to make a desperate ride for the deathlands when-

System : Stop. If you turn back now, you’ll never make it in time. You need to keep going west

“And what will I find in the west!?” John snarled. “How will traveling away from the [Demon Lord] help me to stop him!?”

System : You’ll find transport. Now, shut up and get going, or you won’t make it

John wanted to argue, but he had already made his decision months back. He sighed and kept heading west. Soon, he would be entering the ashlands.

--------

September 14th, 483 AA. 8 days remaining - In the northern deathlands

Tim had slowly been pushed back by Dryadal’s forces, just as planned. He had initially scoffed when Titus had told him that he wouldn’t be able to take on the forces against him, but his reaction had proved to be hubris.

[Heavy Cavaliers] and [Paladins] were a nightmare for the undead. They took little to no damage from all but his horrors and ghosts, and the ghosts had precious little HP to stand up against a [Heal] or [Cure].

Despite that, he was holding his own and would have likely been able to keep them busy until the cast of the ritual… if not for a third party.

“Forward! To save the memory of our home!” came a shout that Tim heard through one of his thousands of sets of ears.

“For [King] Ren, and for Besti!” came a return cry.

And just like that, Tim’s lines were broken by a horde of [Monks] flanking him from the east.

It seems that young Ren finally grew a spine. Tim growled internally.

He needed assistance from Cameron since Cameron had the easy side of the war, and he attempted to command him from a distance like all his other undead.

He could not.

Even more, he could sense a large group of undead approaching his position… and they were not there as reinforcements.

It would seem that Cameron has slipped his leash. Tim thought. He pulled a vial from his body’s inventory and started casting. “Incompetent traitor from beyond the grave. I banish you back to the eternal void for your treachery. By the power of your true name and essence plucked from your unliving body, begone! [Exorcise Named Undead: Cameron Leach]!”

Tim slammed the vial to the ground to complete the mini-ritual and then felt for the undead once more.

They were still under Cameron’s control, and worse, Cameron’s control was greater than Tim’s.

Tim ditched the speaker’s body and flew.

Cameron has betrayed us, and contingency A has failed. I need to inform Titus immediately.

-------

September 15th, 2 PM, 483 AA. 7 days, 6 hours remaining - In the ritual cathedral

The ritual was progressing better than I expected. It was multiple times easier to keep track of everything when there was a physical component to the cast and not just everything in my head.

My speakers had a bit of trouble here and there with the high concentrations of [Temporus] and [Gravitus] mana, but I only needed to bench one with time-related wounds up to that point.

Things are looking good, so the bad news should be coming any minute-

“Titus!” I heard Tim yell in his spectral voice as he floated through the wall of the cathedral.

Ah, there it is.

“What happened, Tim?” I asked.

“Cameron has slipped his leash and is aiding the attackers!” he stated. “We have mere hours until they will be upon us without me there to resist them.”

I thought for a moment through our contingencies. “Alright, time for ritual variation 6?” I asked.

Tim grimaced but nodded. “The stability will drop precipitously, but that has the highest probability of success.”

I nodded along. “Everyone out!” I shouted. “Except you,” I said as I pointed at one speaker at random. “Tim still needs a body. As for the rest of you... Get to summoning. You and the rest of the cult.”

Their eyes widened. “But, my lord. I thought that you said-“

“Yes,” I cut them off. “I know what I said. However, right now is the time for stupid ideas because I need every second you can buy me, clear?”

“Yes, my lord!” they shouted as they ran off.

As they prepared to do my bidding and commit the mother of bad ideas, I started pulling out every monster drop I had gotten from my stint in the time wastes. Temporal dave jelly. Temporal wolf meat and temporal bear meat. Temporal below leaper tongue.

They were all usable as ritual components, but every one I added made the ritual harder to control, which is why I would have rather just taken the safe way.

However, there was one ritual component that I was unsure about.

I pulled out the broken clockwork heart of the boss I had killed in the time wastes, and the ritual shuddered and strained immediately.

“Maybe not that one,” I stated as I shoved it back into my inventory.

Tim nodded in agreement.

Then, I started chanting.

---------

September 15th 2PM, 483 AA. 7 days, 6 hours remaining - Dryadal’s army

Halafarin Trismyar, the elven leader of the Dryadal [Heavy Cavalry], was having a strange day. They had been pushing through the hordes of the undead slowly but surely, when they were suddenly helped by not 1 but 2 unexpected forces.

The Martial Tribe of Besti… and a… being he hesitated to call an ally.

If the boss health bar looming at the top of Halafarin’s vision was any indication, the monster was Cameron Leach, Lich, King of the Undead.

Such an abomination would have been targeted on sight in any other circumstance. However, the countdown from System showed above that health bar and was priority number 1. The [Demon Lord] had to be stopped at all costs.

“We must hurry,” the lich shouted in an eerie voice that sounded like two different people at once. “He will speed up the ritual when he learns I’m coming.”

And so, the cavalry were galloping along when the undead’s words were verified. The countdown suddenly dropped from 7 days to a mere 6 hours.

“We will go in first!” Halafarin shouted. “We will attempt to delay the ritual however possible!”

“No, stop!” the lich shouted, but the cavalry was already away.

With no more undead to stop them, Halafarin thought the trip would be a simple one. Even more so when the first group he encountered was not an army but a group of 7 people wearing dark clothes blocking the road to the cathedral.

“Run them down!” Halafarin shouted.

A female figure stepped forward and raised a staff. He could tell that she was chanting, but there was only so much area she could cover with an AOE.

He kept the charge and even pressed his mount forward so that they could run the spellcaster down before she could get a second cast off.

It was a terrible mistake.

“[Wall of Perdition’s Flame],” the woman stated as she slammed the staff on the ground.

In front of her, a wall of black flame that seemed to burn with images of screaming faces sprang up and covered the entire street.

[Heavy Cavaliers] didn’t fear several types of damage due to their heavy armor. Fire was a definite exception.

The horses bucked and stopped in their tracks rather than run into certain death.

They’ve stopped our momentum, but they’re cut off too and-

His thoughts were stopped as he heard the screams of his own men.

The enemies had somehow appeared beyond the wall of flame and were now flanking them into it.

It was a slaughter.

“[Hell Blaze],” the female [Wizard] and another wand-wielding enemy cast into the mix.

Meanwhile, a giant brute of a man was engulfed in black fire and was swinging a flaming two-handed axe that cut through the heavy cavalry like a knife through butter. In another section of his army, a man stood with a blackened censer. All who stood near him burst into the same dark flames.

Some of Halafarin’s more seasoned cavalry riders realized the danger of the largescale threats and rode toward the mages first. However, a shadow with a tower shield met their charge. They stopped dead against it and then were picked off by a [Monk] who was dashing around the battlefield and punching or kicking people off their horses.

Halafarin and his mount recoiled in shock at the devastation, and that act momentarily saved his life. An arrow the size of a small spear flew past his head and impaled the poor horse and rider behind him, killing both instantly.

Halafarin whipped his head around and saw an archer on the rooftops hundreds of yards away, with a great bow firmly planted on the ground.

They had been engaged for less than 10 seconds, and he had lost nearly 100 men.

“Retreat!” he finally called. “Re-“

He felt a burning pain across his chest.

“Leader down,” came a calm voice.

Halafarin fell to the ground, dying, as a swordsman walked past him with a molten sword, and that was the last thing he saw.

-----

Jaonos nodded in satisfaction at the work the fangs did. No injuries, mana and stamina use were acceptable, and they had taken care of the enemies that their grunts wouldn’t even slow down.

He sent commands for the party to fall back to the cathedral. He would move the army into position next but mostly wanted to be there for the summoning. He had misgivings about it.

-------

4 hours remaining

“Revert time, 3421,” I chanted. “Revert time, 3422...”

Tim, Cameron, and I had long ago determined that the chant did, in fact, matter quite a bit when making the ritual. The main factors were how long it was and how relevant to the actual spell it was.

We needed a super long chant for what I was planning, but we also needed a relevant one. Thus, the first phase was simply planned to be the same thing. Over and over again. 10,000 times.

Since it was easy to lose count, I included the number as a part of the chant. That threw the relevance off a bit, but we countered that by having the second phase be a shorter chant that was much more relevant.

“…Revert time, 3429…”

One of the walls of the cathedral exploded inward.

That skewed some of the lines of magicite near it, and I instantly compensated by rerouting the mana myself.

Then, I noticed that it was one of my fangs that had been thrown through the wall.

A demonic voice laughed. “We answer to no one but-“

I [Flash Stepped] over, flared my aura, and the demon trailed off.

“My lord!” he shouted as he fell to a knee.

“… Revert time, 3431…” I stated with a glare as I saw the skirmish outside between the demons and hell hounds, and my gathered troops. Everyone fell into place the moment my aura touched them.

“What are your orders, my lord?” the lead demon, a large red brute, asked as he came up before me and knelt down.

It was honestly a pretty comical sight. A huge red brute who was maybe 8 feet tall bowing and scraping to a short fat man. I would have even laughed if my mouth wasn’t busy.

“… Revert time, 3460…” I chanted as I pointed with my staff off into the distance.

“My… lord?” the demon asked hesitantly.

“He is stating that you are to attack the encroaching army!” one of my speakers stated.

“You don’t speak for the [Demon Lord]!” the demon shouted as he turned on my speaker.

“I do!” my speaker shouted back as he flung his status at the demon. “See!”

I flared my aura again to cow them.

“… Revert time, 3465…” I stated calmly as I pointed with my staff again.

“You… do want us to attack an army in that direction?” the demon asked.

“… Revert time 3468…” I stated with a nod.

After crossing “play charades with an army of demons” off my list, they finally charged off to do battle.

I went back to my casting and prepared for the next inevitable interruption.

------

45 minutes remaining – The ashlands

“I knew it,” John stated. “You lied to me, and I fell for it. Just like I fell for the [Demon Lord’s] lies all along.” John hung his head as he marched through the desolate wastes. “I was a coward, and now I’ll be known as a failure just like Garrick. I won’t even-“

His eyes widened as a forest suddenly popped into existence just 45 feet in front of him.

System : Hey look, your ride’s here

“My-“ John cut himself off as he sprinted for the forest. I need them to [Teleport] me to the ritual site! If they-

System : They’re kinda on Titus’s side, so don’t let them know you’re there

John froze as one fairy spotted him.

System : Well, except for that one, I guess

“Hi,” John said as he waved warily.

“Gree… tings,” the fairy stated back in awkward Virian. “What brings… [Hero]… here?”

“No [Translate]?” John asked.

The fairy shook her head. “No. Need magic… move forest… ley line here…” She made a disgusted face.

“Yes, this place is very…” John made a disgusted face back, and the fairy giggled.

She started to fly away. “Must tell [Queen]… visitor.”

“Wait!” John called. “Stay?” he pleaded. “Will give… stories?”

Her eyes lit up. “Stories…” She frowned. “Break rule.”

“I have some really good ones!” John encouraged.

The fairy waffled back and forth and then grinned. “No rule… no caught.”

And so, for the next 30 minutes, John eyed the countdown warily while telling the fairy, Alyssum, his best stories in as simple Virian as possible.

With about 15 minutes remaining, he suddenly felt the world move.

He fell to all fours and then couldn’t keep his lunch down.

Alyssum flew up behind him and patted him on the back while gently comforting him in her melodic language.

Meanwhile, John could have sworn that he heard another sound like someone else was trying to keep their lunch in, but they were gone by the time he looked.

In addition, even more fey shouts were coming from inside the forest.

“[Queen] happy not,” the fairy translated. “In dead land. Ley line also…” she made the same disgusted face.

Dead land…

John bolted upright and staggered to the forest’s edge, fighting through his disorientation.

Just like the fairy had tried to tell him, they were now deep in the deathlands.

He could make it in time to confront the [Demon Lord], just like the false System had promised him. However, there were two problems. First, he had a decent distance to go with only 15 minutes left, and second…

He trailed off as he saw the chaos between him and his goal.

Armored soldiers from Dryadal were facing off against the [Demon Lord’s] cult, undead were slaying the living and gaining more recruits, red hellish beasts were attacking anyone in sight, and even [Monks] from Besti were in the mix as well.

“I can’t get through all of that,” John whispered grimly. And while his heart went out to the soldiers that were fighting and dying out there, he didn’t have the time. He needed to slip past the defenses and go straight for the [Demon Lord].

He looked at the fairy.

“One last favor,” he asked.

“Fey vore?” Alyssum asked, cocking her head. Then she scowled and shook her head. “No eat fairies. Not tasty.”

“Help,” John clarified. “Send me to [Demon Lord].”

She shook her head. “Break rules. Allowed not.”

“I’ll give you stories!” John offered. Another head shake. “Gems or anything else from the outside world?” He belatedly remembered the rule of three he had overheard the [Demon Lord] use when he pretended to be Kris. “And gold?”

Allysum thought for a moment.

“Stories, gems, and gold?” she asked.

“Yes,” John replied. “As much as I can get for you.”

The fairy nodded with a slight grin and an extended hand. “Deal,” she said. John shook her hand with his index finger, and then she started chanting in her melodic language.

He had nothing to do but wait. At least, until he thought he saw a shadow move. Part of him thought it was paranoia, but he reacted to it anyway... and spun in the opposite direction.

That gave him just enough time to pull out his sword and deflect Braern’s dagger that had been aimed at his back.

“That trick will only work on me once,” John stated as he circled the [Rogue].

“That’s fine with me,” Braern snarled back. “We’ve got a score to settle, [Hero].”

John caught Alyssum’s nod from the corner of his eye.

“Sorry, it will have to wait,” John stated. He stepped back to the fairy, who put her tiny hand on him and cast her spell.

“No!” Braern shouted as he lunged at John. His dagger clinked harmlessly off John’s mithril armor, and then John was suddenly in the middle of the ruined deathlands city… on his hands and knees again.

How do they stand being flung around like that? John asked himself as he unsteadily rose to his feet.

Unfortunately, Alyssum couldn’t get John directly on top of the [Demon Lord], so he was still a way off on a different side street. However, he was past the engaged armies, and that was enough for him. An added bonus was that it gave him a few minutes to get himself reoriented before he faced off against the lord of darkness.

John took off running.

He watched the clock tick down to 10 minutes as he rounded a corner and came onto the last street before the cathedral.

“So, there you are,” Jaonos stated as he rose and pulled out an adamantium sword. John pulled out the Hero’s sword, and the two started circling each other warily. “As much as I want to blame Braern for this, I can’t help but think that not even my lord expected the sheer amount of luck you would have. Just happening to stumble across the fey in between teleports? Just happening to find a fairy willing to [Teleport] you? And all within the last hour of the ritual?”

“As the saying goes, a successful plan always looks like luck to the shortsighted,” John stated. “Now, get out of my way, Jaonos. My quarrel’s not with you. I must stop the [Demon Lord] from casting this ritual.”

Jaonos shook his head. “I cannot stand aside. If you would stop my lord, you must go through me.”

John tightened his grip on his sword and prepared to bull rush when Jaonos continued.

“But you don’t have to stop him,” Jaonos said quietly. “Don’t you know that my lord completing this ritual is the best thing for this land? Don’t you know he wasn’t lying about restoring this kingdom to its former glory? Would you truly stand against my lord and his plan to save tens of thousands of lives?”

John heard enough. He charged forward with a heavy downward stroke. Jaonos parried it easily and then blocked the follow-up horizontal slash that John sent his way.

The two clashed swords in silence, but that didn’t last long.

“Those are lives the [Demon Lord] himself took,” John grunted as the two locked swords. “Why should I entrust them to their murderer?”

“Because he is the only one who can save them,” Jaonos answered. John finally shoved Jaonos’ sword to the side, but Jaonos simply turned it into a roll before John could follow up on the attack. “And not only them but more than one hundred thousand souls who were lost when a foolish [Hero] interrupted my lord the last time!”

John almost replied, but then he had an epiphany.

Braern, who couldn’t stand against me toe-to-toe, tried anyway. And Jaonos is talking too much. He felt like a fool.

“You’re just trying to delay me,” John stated. He rushed forward and hammered Jaonos’ guard with a flurry of blows. “No more. I’m done playing around. This is a spar no longer!”

With a particularly heavy strike, John opened up Jaonos guard and then shoved him with his shoulder.

The beastborn man fell to the ground, and John stabbed down before he could get up. He impaled the man and was sure he did a decent amount of damage. However, the follower of the [Demon Lord] just sighed.

“Very well,” Jaonos stated as he grabbed John’s sword hand, keeping the blade plunged into his own body and the road below. “No more sparring.”

Then, Jaonos was gone, and John was stabbing nothing but a shadow. He spun around but was only in time to catch a molten blade across his chest.

John staggered back and got his guard up to catch the next blow. They locked swords once more, and John prepared for the usual struggle… only for Jaonos to shift his weight unexpectedly and push John off-balance. Jaonos scored another hit to John’s leg, and John’s HP ticked down to about 4/5ths.

John rushed Jaonos with another flurry of blows, but the beastborn man anticipated every one of them and gave John another quick cut with his molten blade.

“How?” John asked as he looked at his arm that had taken on a lesser bleeding condition, even through his armor. “We’ve fought hundreds of times!”

Jaonos laughed. “Oh, John. You poor fool. While I fought you and learned every single one of your patterns, you fought Jaonos, the level 15 adventurer.” Jaonos went on the offensive with speed that John could barely keep up with. “And now you fight the first [Fang of the Demon Lord] at level 25.”

John somehow withstood that barrage and then thought he had an opening. He swung… Jaonos parried it upward and tripped him. “I suppose I should also let you know that all of that time, I was also training you incorrectly.”

From there, John grew desperate as Jaonos’ words were proven true. He could hardly touch the man, much less deal a significant amount of damage to him. All of his training had been deliberately crafted to leave him with openings, and Jaonos exploited them ruthlessly. Even his skills, [Power Strike] and [Omnistrike], were blocked, parried, or outright dodged by Jaonos’ shadowy movement ability.

That left one last option.

I have to use it. John thought grimly. He never wanted to use his [Hero] skill on another person, but he had no choice. Time was ticking down, he was at half HP, and he was nowhere near a match for the swordsman in front of him.

He cocked his sword back, and it started glowing.

“Land [Sunder] on me if you can!” Jaonos taunted. The two stared each other down, waiting for the slightest twitch. Jaonos, preparing to use his movement ability, and John preparing to unleash his skill that would take the first [Fang of the Demon Lord] down instantly.

So focused were the two on each other that they were blindsided by the huge bolt of death magic that flew in from the side and slammed Jaonos off to the side of the road.

“Quit horsing around, [Hero]!” a voice called out.

John looked up and saw… a flying undead. It was wrapped in tattered robes, looked mostly like a zombie, and had an extra skull attached to the back of its head.

John belatedly realized that he finally met the owner of the boss health bar showing on his screen.

“The [Demon Lord] will cast the ritual any minute! We must hurry!” the lich shouted in two voices as it flew towards the cathedral.

Any other day, John would have had serious misgivings about helping a flying undead with anything. However, that was on any other day. John took off running immediately.

He glanced backward to ensure Jaonos wouldn’t be putting a sword through his back. He saw the beastborn helpless in a cage made out of bone, with his sword on the ground in front of him.

“Wait!” Jaonos called.

John had no intention of waiting. He kept running.

“John… I’m your father!” Jaonos, the beastborn man who looked nothing like John, called out.

The last-ditch attempt succeeded only in making John stumble a step due to sheer absurdity.

And then, with a lich in tow, John entered through the cathedral’s blown-out wall.

------

5 minutes remaining – The ritual site

Oh great. I thought as I watched Cameron and John roll up together, the latter draining an HP potion. However, I couldn’t let that pull too much of my concentration… or the use of my tongue.

“… Revert time 9943…” I continued chanting.

Fortunately, Tim was there, and as a non-primary caster of the ritual, he was able to pick up the slack for me in the verbal jousting department.

“Ah, Cameron,” Tim stated as the two walked in. “I wondered how you managed to shake off the yolk of your oaths. I should have anticipated that performing the ascendancy ritual again would designate you as a new being in that regard. Especially since you are now an abomination twice over.”

“Shut up!” Cameron shouted. He shot a [Death Bolt] at Tim… that flew forward incredibly sluggishly.

As for why it did that … well… magic in the area was currently having its lunch money stolen, being pushed into a locker, and being called mean names for the 23rd day straight. The sheer amount of [Temporus] and [Gravitus] magic flooding the area made casting any other spells difficult.

Which was great for me since I wouldn’t exactly have the capability to cast anything with my hands that full with the ritual anyway.

“…Revert time 9948…” I continued adding nothing to the conversation.

“Take the [Demon Lord]!” Cameron snarled to John. “I have my own score to settle!”

“Me in a borrowed body with no [Mortae] aptitude against a lich who has ascended once again?” Tim asked. “An equitable fight. I accept.”

Tim and Cameron shot [Death Bolts] at each other. The two liches slowly adjusted to casting in the magically hostile room as I frantically adjusted the ritual to deal with the fluctuating mana.

Oh, and tried to figure out what to do with a [Hero]-sized problem that was sprinting in my direction.

The answer to that was parry, dodge, and evade.

[Flash Step] was key to that last part. I immediately blew that cooldown and appeared on the far side of the giant magicite crystal.

“…Revert time 9953…”

“Stand still and fight, [Demon Lord]!” John shouted as we played the deadliest game of Ring Around the Rosie in history.

“…Revert time 9956…”

I kept that up for a few seconds, and then the [Hero] grew frustrated. “Forget it!” he shouted, raising his sword at the magicite crystal. “I don’t need to kill you. Just stop the ritual!”

“…Revert time 9959!…” I squeaked out. I hadn’t considered that option since my brain was a bit too busy attempting to nullify all known laws of spacetime, and it would be a disaster if John broke my ritual’s battery.

Fortunately, I wasn’t the only one who realized that.

“Stop!” Cameron shouted. John hesitated. “Do you want to destroy the entire world!? We have to take care of the [Demon Lord] and his lackey first, and then I can wind down the ritual!”

Tim took Cameron’s moment of distraction to score a particularly large [Death Bolt] to his face.

He’s lying. I thought even as I continued chanting. Cameron’s been trying to gain control of the ritual since he got in here. He wants it for himself.

Fortunately, John bought it and went back to chasing me. Unfortunately, my distraction meant that he finally caught up.

I held Singularity like a quarterstaff, mentally apologizing to the magical item, and parried his first swing. The black mithril held, but as he came down with a [Power Strike], I elected to dodge that with a quick roll instead.

If Singularity breaks, this ritual ends. I realized. It buffed all schools of magic, and that included [Temporus]. Without it, I was sunk.

“…Revert time 9962…”

As I thought about it, John reminded me more and more of Jake, but there was one glaring difference. John’s footwork was much sloppier. I made sure to press that advantage to land any [Elemental Strikes] I could to debuff him, eschewing [Fire Strike] because it wouldn’t deal a lick of damage to the man and his enchanted mithril armor.

It was about then that the timer ticked down to 4 minutes remaining.

I was holding up well against John, but Tim was struggling.

“You are doing exceedingly well… for a B-plot villain,” Tim jabbed at Cameron while sounding like he was in a lot of pain.

And that was a signal that I couldn’t ignore. Tim was calling for Cameron contingency B.

“…Revert time 9967…” I chanted as I tripped John with my staff, quickly reached into my inventory, and pulled out my own personal vial of Cameron-Be-Gone.

I chucked it with all my might, and the heavily modified vial of Alchemist’s Fire flew true. It exploded in holy flames, and the lich screamed and fell to the ground, writhing in pain.

Thanks for the idea, Lizzie. I briefly thought to the cult leader who had used the same stuff on me so long ago.

That was a moment too long. John’s sword cut through my side, and I took about 50 damage.

The timer stopped and ticked up momentarily as I struggled to control the ritual.

Meanwhile, my body moved almost purely on reflex, and I retaliated with an [Air Strike] punch to John’s face that pushed him back but did little else. Across the room, Tim’s borrowed body grabbed hold of the flailing lich’s face, and I felt a surge of magic.

Tim was going for control of Cameron’s undead body. I could only wish him luck.

“…Revert time 9970…”

There was little that the [Hero] could do to me, or vice versa. He could only damage me if he could hit me, and given the amount of damage his sword did, I was now confident enough to block his attacks with [Fire Strikes] in addition to Singularity. Meanwhile, my only means of damaging him were spells I had no access to.

It looked like it was going to be a draw until he took a step back, and his sword started glowing.

“[Sund-“

I cut him off with a quick snap, more out of reflex than anything. And couldn’t help the brief smirk that crossed my face as he nearly tripped.

Then I realized what I had done.

You idiot! I berated myself. You could have ended it there with [Reflect Attack]!

“…Revert time 9982…”

The timer ticked to three minutes remaining, and I felt a surge of magic come from Tim and Cameron’s struggle. I was sure it was either really good news or really bad news.

Which meant…

“I’m… sorry… Titus,” Tim croaked out with his borrowed body as Cameron turned it into dust with a triumphant laugh.

“…Revert time… 9985…” I choked out. Tim was dead. And that was all the weakness I allowed myself to show. I had three minutes left in a 1 v 2, and I wouldn’t let his sacrifice go to waste.

The next thirty seconds went largely the same as the previous for me. The only difference was that in addition to John’s attacks, I had to dodge Cameron’s [Death Bolts] as well… and deal with the fact that he was trying to usurp the ritual.

The only saving grace was that his body was fine-tuned for casting death magic and nothing else… well, that and contingency C.

Cameron thought that he finally broke my focus as I slipped over a piece of temporal dave jelly, and he seized control… of the trap Tim and I had laid for him as a part of variation 6 of the ritual.

“…Revert time 9994…” I stated with a smirk as John looked to see why the [Death Bolts] had stopped coming.

Cameron was frozen in place with a ritual version of [Clock Stop] that sprung on him. I didn’t know how much time it would buy me, but I briefly hoped it would hold for the last two and a half minutes.

In other good news, [Flash Step] was off cooldown. That meant the next 15 seconds were free, as I gave John the same runaround.

“… Revert time 10000,” I finished as John caught up to me. He shouted out a [Power Strike] but redirected it with my staff at the last second.

I winced as it chipped a piece out but was grateful the entire thing didn’t snap in two.

1 minute and 15 more seconds, then onto phase 2. I thought. I was sure I could wind the clock down easily enough. That’s why the universe decided to throw another wrench in my plans… actually, four wrenches.

A group of 4 soldiers from Gram barged in as I blocked one of John’s wild swings with a [Fire Strike], and they all pointed at me.

“[Demon Lord]!” they all bellowed in unison.

It was weird enough that John stopped attacking me to look at the intruders.

“You will pay for your sins because we are…” They paused dramatically and posed. “Dave! The [Sons of Dave]!”

I had to bite back saying something like, “You’ve gotta be frickin’ kidding me,” because I was still limited to just the words of the chant. Instead, I settled for rolling my eyes at them really hard.

They all charged as one… and made John’s job much harder.

None of them could harm me with their weapons, and I mostly just let their attacks bounce off and maneuvered them into the [Hero’s] path. Then, I helped them double down with a bit of greed aura.

“I’ll be the one to take down the [Demon Lord]!”

“No! I will!”

“Get out of my way!” John yelled in frustration as he practically body-checked one just to get in a position where his swing was accidentally stopped by another of the useless lackeys.

And then, there were two minutes left.

However, while I enjoyed their physical interruption to the [Hero’s] attempts to perforate my body, there were some unexpected side effects of having that many feet shuffling around.

More magicite lines were interrupted. More ritual components were knocked out of place. And I started struggling to keep up with the mental rerouting I had to do every time.

It was time to stop playing around.

I went on the offensive, and the [Sons of Dave] stood about as much chance against me as an alpha wolf. Two or three [Fire Strikes] was all it took, and soon 3 of the 4 were out of the fight.

I had the ritual under control… for all of a moment. That was interrupted by a crash from the far wall, and the magic of the ritual suddenly spiked.

I desperately fought it back down, which left me wide open. I got stabbed by John for the trouble… and by a horn from the beast that had burst in through the wall.

Skyquake’s horned tackle barely did any damage, but that wasn’t the point. I was knocked off my feet, and the alicorn carried me along like a [Demon Lord]-kebab directly to the exit.

If I left the area of the ritual, that was it. The magic would likely explode, just like it did so many years ago… except an order of magnitude larger.

I tried to dislodge myself, but I was in an awkward position, and the System counted me as grappled for some unknown reason.

System: You are grappled and cannot move

And that was the saving grace. I remembered exactly what to do with that buggy interaction.

I slammed an [Air Strike] down into the flying horse’s back, and we crashed into the ground. I skid to a stop, just a foot away from the impromptu “door” one of my demons had made, and the alicorn slowly recovered its feet.

I was faster.

I [Flash Stepped] behind it and then laid into it with [Fire Strikes] and [Air Strikes] from my free hand. It couldn’t handle the heat or the knockback, and then, with a healthy dose of demon lord aura, I scared it out the entrance and off into the sky.

Speaking of the entrance, now that I was in a better position to look out it, I realized how freakin’ close to screwed I was.

A mixed army was on my doorstep, and the only thing keeping them back was the lead demon I had summoned.

Where are my fangs? Where’s my army? I asked myself with a sigh. Never trust frickin’ minions to hold the line.

John’s sword entered my back again for all the trouble, and I dropped to about half HP. With a wordless snarl, I grabbed his sword hand and tossed him outside.

That quickly proved to be a mistake.

“Everyone, get clear of the demon!” he shouted as he sprinted forward. They all obeyed the [Hero] immediately, and with a quick [Sunder], their last obstacle was erased.

“Everyone, with me!” John shouted. “Spellcasters! Try to take control of the ritual! We need to divert the mana somewhere when the [Demon Lord’s] slain!”

Ah, frick. I thought. I tried to play gatekeeper, but the entrance was too broad, and I had to give ground against the huge press of bodies with a [Hero] at the lead.

Soon, I was mentally struggling to maintain the ritual and fight off dozens of people trying to take control of it.

The strain was too much, and my nose started bleeding spontaneously. I needed to lessen the mental load, so… I retreated to the Mindscape.

At least, mostly. My body was used to fighting while outnumbered. I had to simply trust all of that to muscle memory with a few added commands like don’t let go of the staff, don’t leave the ritual area, focus the spellcasters, and don’t worry about any attack that doesn’t come from the [Hero].

And then, there was 1 minute left. Ready or not, it was time for the chant.

“With the power of this ritual, I bring forth magic capable of cutting through the tyranny of the fourth dimension,” I chanted slowly and methodically, muscle memory and the sheer weight of thousands of practice runs taking over. I dodged the [Hero’s] attacks and hit the other unfortunate soldiers with [Elemental Strike] as I could.

It was like watching a movie in first person as sight and sound still reached me, but there was nothing left upstairs to process that information.

So, I watched as I [Air Strike] kicked a [Knight] into a group of spellcasters, then [Flash Stepped] over and curb-stomped them with [Fire Strikes] before they could get up.

That left me open to another blow from the [Hero], but I didn’t even feel pain anymore.

“I invoke the magical elements of this simulated universe-“ I continued as I tripped the [Hero] and sprinted towards another group. “-to align in my favor and allow me to fix the past.”

A bone horror rushed into the cathedral, bringing me a slight reprieve. It turned out that the undead weren’t so friendly when their master was stuck in a single instant of time and unable to give orders.

My body also ignored the horror and targeted the next group of spellcasters. As I approached, they lit me up with bolt spells, and a group of melee combatants stepped up to stop me.

I ignored everything, batted aside the melees with [Air Strike], and then backed down the spellcasters and beat them down individually.

I think my demon lord aura started leaking out during that, which would explain why the others fled, but I couldn’t even tell.

“I defy the laws that stand against my travel and subvert them to my will,” I stated as I had a few precious seconds, then the horror was dead.

“Stand and fight me!” the [Hero] shouted… something as he charged me. Soon, I was too busy with him.

“With the power of my magic-“ I stated as I blocked his first hard swing and retaliated with a [Fire Strike] that did next to nothing. “I command the fabric of time to bend and twist.” He tried to trip me, but I went with the momentum of his kick and turned it into a spin, ending with a backhanded attack from my staff that sent him sprawling… and dealt zero damage.

“Let the flow of time be altered-” I chanted as he regained his feet. I felt his aura fighting mine, but I had no spare bandwidth to process it. “-and the threads of painful destiny be rewoven.”

“Surround him quickly! Grapple him into place!” he shouted in words I couldn’t comprehend.

I took out three of them before they got a good hold on me, but that was not enough to stop the press of bodies. I was soon grappled and held in place for the [Hero].

“I demand passage through time’s relentless flow,” I chanted. He swung, and I took damage. “To the moment-“ another swing. “-where my mistakes were made.” Another.

An urgent warning against low HP caused me to snap a [Disrupt] on greed form auto-activation, but that was hardly what I needed.

That would have been the ignoble end of Titus the 7th if not for a shadow that appeared behind the [Hero] and stabbed him with a dark blade.

The shadow then kicked the [Hero] off to the side and quickly slashed the arms of the men that were holding me. They all let go and retreated.

“My lord, are you okay?” the shadow spouted nonsense.

“Let the echoes of my past deeds be silenced-” I continued my chant as I decked the [Rogue] in the face with an [Air Strike] that sent him sprawling.

A part of me thought that maybe that had been a friendly and I shouldn’t have done that. However, there was another part that immediately reassured me it was fine.

However, neither the shadow nor the [Hero] were spellcasters. No, the most important spellcaster was just waking up.

“-and a new universe be born untainted by my sins,” I continued chanting as I sprinted toward the lich who once more was trying to take control of the ritual.

He shot [Death Bolts] at me as I ran, but once I got up in his face, he mostly just fled.

“Jonathan! Destroy it now!” the lich shouted nonsense as I continued chasing him around in silence. All that was left was the last word of the ritual, and mental Titus informed me it wasn’t time yet.

“I thought you said that was a bad idea!” Jonathan also replied in nonsense with a clash of a dagger and a sword ringing in the background.

“Do it now! Or he’ll cast it and destroy the world!”

It was almost time. Mental Titus was getting ready to give the nod to say the last word…

And the ritual broke with a thunderclap.

There was no longer any ritual to take care of, so I snapped back to the present and saw the obliterated piece of magicite standing in the middle of the room.

“No…” I stated as I fell to my knees. “No!”

There was a giant swirl of time magic and-

.

.

“Do it now! Or he’ll cast it and destroy the world!”

The ritual was back. I was back to understanding things and didn’t have time to second-guess what just happened. I still had 10 seconds left of the ritual, according to the System, and I was too close to worry about anything else.

I [Flash Stepped] between John and the piece of magicite and activated [Reflect Attack]. Then, I frantically tried to hurry up the cast.

John hesitated for a brief moment. Then, with a look of grim determination, his sword started glowing bright… and then brighter

The man had unlocked [Limit Break], just like Jake. I was sure of it.

He prepared to strike-

“Wait!” Cameron called, then shot a [Death Bolt] into my shoulder that ate up my skill. “Now!”

There were still five seconds left. Five seconds too many. Unless…

John readied his sword.

I reached into my inventory.

“[Sunder]!” John called out as he flashed forward with a thunderclap.

“[Restart]!” I cast as I pulled the clockwork heart out of my inventory and slammed my staff into the ground.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

System: Hero Jonathan has slain the Demon Lord! The realm will have relative peace for the next 50 years. Demon morale will be reduced for the duration

I looked at that and sighed. It was an underreaction, but I didn’t know how else to respond to-

“Wait,” I said. “I can sigh?” I looked down at my shadowy arms and at the frozen picture beneath me of the [Hero] slaying me and destroying the magicite cluster in one go.

Then, slowly, it started ticking backward. The magicite reformed, and Jonathan’s skill rewound.

“I did it!” I shouted. “Ha! Eat that Placeholder! Eat that [Hero]! And eat that stupid System with your stupid jank rules!”

I was so relieved I could cry. I was finally going back to fix everything. I was finally going to-

“Hello, Titus,” a voice echoed out of nowhere.

My relief felt like it was snatched away by an icy claw from Hell itself.

“No… No!” I shouted.

A shadowy figure. A voice from nowhere. I knew where I had seen that, and it left only one possibility. One vile option for what time travel could mean in Placeholder, and one I had dared not ever think about, much less speak aloud. “It can’t be-“

“It is,” the voice confirmed. “You’re creating a time loop. Now, don’t mope too long. We’ve got a lot of work to do to ensure you end up right here.”

System: “#ERROR_ADMIN_NOT_FOUND“ has set your name display to “System ”

I gave a wordless scream as time traveled backward… and it was not under my control.