Arthur was startled awake by the sound of a ding ringing in his ear. For the briefest of moments, he was slightly confused, waking up from a good nap was a pretty rare occasion for him now that his body just simply didn’t need rest so it took a moment to adjust. However, once he had adjusted, he remembered how the upstart perk had somehow turned on an option so that every time he progressed in his cultivation, Arthur heard a tiny ‘ding’ in his ear, and he sighed defeatedly, before checking the prompt in question.
You have reached the 11th step of the [Lesser Spirit] realm!
Reward: +5 Spiritual Points
Arthur dismissed the prompt with his mind looked over to his desk and wondered whether he’d made the right decision. He’d chosen to bet his hide on being able to kill monsters and level up, but so far, the monsters he’d been able to face and not face imminent death whilst doing so had been far too low level to progress him in levels nearly at all. Monsters even 5 levels below him gave a pitiful amount of exp and on the core capital world of the Grand Imperium of Hergalexy, there were pretty much only low-level domesticated ‘monsters’ and level 300 unkillable titans that could be found in the dungeons beneath the city.
Arthur knew better than to think he could kill a level 300 monster at his current level of power, but he also knew that if he didn’t find a powerful monster to kill in the next few days it wouldn’t matter how many years he’d served as a butler back on Earth, he wouldn’t make into his profession’s guild. Thus, his chances of continuing on in his chosen career path would be effectively zeroed out in the multiverse. So, prior to falling asleep, he’d decided that he would need to find someone who might be able to tell him where to find monsters his level and the only person he knew might know something was Maximus.
Arthur brought out his communications device and prepared to call the Marshall of his own free will. The necessity of the situation didn’t make making the call any easier, Arthur was still struggling to process the fact that his grandson’s mother was likely dead and if not dead then a demon of some kind. It had only been a week since that cursed call, but even so, Arthur hadn’t yet told Lucas of the news – such a revelation would likely crush the boy’s spirits for good. And, after seeing the boy in so much pain whilst he was hexed, Arthur felt that hurting him any further right now was the last thing he should or would do.
The call went through, and the Marshall’s voice rang clearly through the communication device’s speaker, “Arthur? I don’t have any updates regarding the demonic cultivator if that is why you’re calling.”
Arthur shook his head before saying, “No I am not calling about that issue. Instead, Maximus, I am calling to inquire about where exactly one might find monsters near or around my level in the capital?”
A cavernous laugh echoed through the phone until it stopped, and Maximus spoke genuinely, “This is the Imperium’s capital, Arthur. It is so because this damn planet serves as a good base for the elite with its high-level dungeons, and a ‘safe’ environment for the poor and the weak because of the low mana density present on the surface layer. Hence you shall only find low level monsters above ground, and overwhelming monstrosities, for you at least, below ground. There is no natural middle ground here.”
Arthur’s eyebrows raised at that last part.
“No natural middle ground? As in there is an artificial one?” Arthur asked, trying to figure out what the tricky Marshall was getting at.
“Indeed Arthur. The military trains its up-and-coming elites using monsters near or around your power level, and so we have quite the supply of them constantly flowing into the capital’s central military headquarters.” The man replied.
“I am not interested in becoming a soldier.” Arthur retorted, unsure why the Marshall seemed so persistent.
The Marshall let out a chuckle, before saying, “I am aware of your intention to become a member of the Butler’s guild. However, allowing you to use military-grade development facilities to grow more powerful without enlisting you into the army is quite the favour on my part, and so I would naturally expect some things in return.”
Arthur felt a slight hesitation form in his mind, but replied regardless, “That would be acceptable given the things asked for in return are proportionate.”
Perhaps it was the slight audible exhale from the Marshall being caught by his device’s microphone, but Arthur swore he could hear the man smugly grinning, and his words revealed part of why that might be.
“Excellent. I’ll have a facility prepared for you – don’t worry about finding the central base, I’ve already sent my assistant to pick you up. He’ll be at your place in a few minutes.”
The call ended just like that, and Arthur felt his whole being both physically and mentally relaxed. That was, until he stood, and almost instinctively broadened his senses outwards – trying to distinguish the presence of both Steven and Lucas in the apartment but he felt… nothing.
He’d been in the accommodation for a long enough time every day to realise that the two boys were growing closer with each passing day, and in the last week, they’d even started to act like older and younger brothers. Arthur couldn’t help but feel his anxiety about their seeming disappearance falter a little as a small smile formed on his face as he thought about the two helping one another out. It went to show the unbelievable fortitude of both boys and it made Arthur proud.
Arthur sat in mute contemplation for a while, only brought out of his thoughts by a knock on the door. Setting his thoughts aside for now, he briskly walked over to the door and opened it – a familiar face greeting him.
“Sir Goodman, please follow me.” The young assistant said, almost in a tired expression as though he was frankly bored of running such ‘minor’ errands as picking up Arthur from his apartment.
A remarkably quaint spaceship, if such a thing even exists, was awaiting the two outside and Arthur got in the back and sat next to Maximus’ assistant and immediately felt the ship shoot upwards and surge forwards.
Arthur noticed that the young assistant was being incredibly unsubtle in his obvious attempt to analyse him and his obvious surprise at what he saw. Arthur coughed into his hand and said, “Is my profile truly so unbelievable to you?”
The boy’s face paled, and he shook his head, before stuttering out, “How?”
Arthur looked at him with some confusion before saying, “How what?”
The boy didn’t seem to even hear the response as he was too lost in thought and muttered, “I realise this planet’s qi is far denser than back on your home world, but this cultivation speed is just… just ridiculous.”
Arthur did his best to keep a straight face – having long ago realised that while being exceptionally strong came with some benefits, it also seemed to get you into situations more troublesome than beneficial.
“I find cultivation easier than most,” Arthur stated, not necessarily lying. He had found cultivation simple and easy to progress in even when his cultivation perk was inactive, but he didn’t know whether that was due to his bloodline’s effects or because he had some kind of natural talent. Though, it didn’t really matter in Arthur’s mind, so long as his strength helped provide for his grandson – his own ego could accept being essentially dependent on system shenanigans.
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Maximus’ assistant, however, seemed to find it an insult to his own ego that he couldn’t fully explain Arthur’s growth. But, upon noticing that the transport was apparently nearing its destination, the assistant pushed such thoughts to the side and spoke to Arthur plainly.
“The Marshall currently has a very special guest visiting the central base, The Saintly Lord of Quasor. As such, he has asked me to inform you that should you find yourself in the bad graces of that man, nothing and no one in the Imperium would be able to save you. So be careful.”
Arthur simply nodded and gulped, not realising he’d be in the same geographical location as one of the most important men of the Imperium – and someone he’d soon be organising a party in partial honour of. He’d done a lot of research into the man who’d only recently become a saint realm cultivator, he’d had to so as to ensure that the party’s decorations and meal selection were according to the lord’s tastes or at least not offensive to his known preferences.
He'd learned that the man known as the Lord of Quasor was in fact a man whose talent rivalled the Grand Emperor himself, and if it weren’t for his family’s historic enmity with the Amean dynasty – making it more difficult for him to acquire the necessary precious cultivation aiding herbs – he would have likely already surpassed the emperor’s own cultivation.
Furthermore, it is rumoured that his young daughter has received over a billion marriage requests from across the multiverse due to the fact that she possesses a powerful bloodline that she inherited from her mother. It is even said that whoever ends up marrying that girl, in the end, will leave children destined to rival the Imperial family in terms of raw potential and power within the Imperium. A fact that both impressed and terrified Arthur. Power was great and all, but rival powers tended not to get along and that usually always meant violence, and violence usually meant mass death and he could only imagine the kind of mass death that a group of demi-god-like beings could dish out.
Once the ship had landed, the doors to the strange aircraft opened up, and Arthur walked out casually – not expecting the sight that was before him. Right beside the landing bay were two men, one was Maximus, and the other’s regal unblemished youth look made him incredibly statue-esque in appearance. Like Michelangelo’s David, but with even more understated power emanating from every poor on his body. Arthur didn’t need more than a second to guess who this was.
He walked over to the two men, bowed his head and said, “I thank you Great Marshall of the Imperium for granting me this favour and I greet the auspicious Lord of Quasor.”
The youthful-looking lord smiled before responding with, "I'd heard you had a thick non-Imperial accent, but it seems that it is almost gone now."
Arthur, surprised by the remark almost surged back upwards, but managed to return to standing normally at least somewhat gracefully before replying, "Thank you, lord."
"I'm glad that being informally introduced to high society by Maximus here did not reflect your own ability to attend to formalities."
Maximus laughed at this particular comment from the Lord of Quasor, and then addressed Arthur, "Why don't we take you to your training room, huh?"
Arthur nodded before saying, in his most respectful voice possible, "I'd ask that you clarify what you'd like in return first before I commit to this favour."
Maximus' face turned in an instant from cool, relaxed, and chill, into a cold - almost sharklike - visage. "The exchange of favours has already taken place, backing out now would be a disgrace to your not-so-established name."
Arthur considered himself lucky that he had seen this side of Maximus' personality before, back on the ship. Otherwise, he would have undoubtedly been shaken by this sudden change in tone and all the potential violence it implied.
Arthur didn't let his voice show weakness as he replied, "I do not intend to back out of this arrangement, Sir Marshall. I simply desire to know what it is I am to do in return for having received this favour, as is appropriate of me to ask in such a situation as this where both of us are not decidedly familiars."
Maximus said nothing for a long while before eventually, his face shifted back to his 'regular' mode, and he said, "I see. I apologise for accusing you of wrongdoing based on a misunderstanding."
"In truth, what I ask for in return for me having indulged you in this favour is two-fold, but the second request requires the first so I'll reveal that one if and or when the first task has been successfully completed."
Arthur understood so simply nodded, then his face turned visibly confused as he heard the first request.
"That said, the first thing that I ask of you is that you succeed in attaining a membership of the Butler's Guild."
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Phillip was pretty sure he hadn't slept in almost a full planetary rotation and it must have been an even longer time since he'd last seen his family. So long had it been, in fact, that his scales were starting to grow fur - which was always a bad sign for reptiloids.
Yet, even though he was so tired he couldn't even feel his tail anymore, he kept on working as hard as he could without even thinking about stopping. As though he had mainly focused his stat points into his mental stat, his physical stat was no joke either so he could probably keep going for another rotation or so before he would just collapse from exhaustion. Meanwhile, the fur situation was only a problem if he were around other reptiloids and he wasn't, there weren't many of his kind into planetary administration after all, so he doubted his coworkers would mind a bit of fluff - humanoids were usually pretty accepting of the stuff if the state of their own bodies were anything to go by.
What about your family Phillip? He lambasted himself internally, before mentally barraging this thought with non-sequiturs.
He always made sure that his paycheck arrived on time.
He'd been there to see most of his kids' birthdays.
He was a good father. He was a good husband. He was a good man.
Phillip sighed as he tried desperately to focus his mind on something other than his two precious sons at home. Though, once he had done so, he almost wished he hadn't. Being an administrator of a vast planet that seemed to be sick and dying meant that he often was shown the most horrific things imaginable.
He knew that whole districts of the world were being abandoned due to the sheer scale of the poverty afflicting the world as of now. He had seen images of dead men, women, and children who'd either starved to death or been killed for whatever little they'd had on them that was of use to their killers.
Every day he hoped that the real lord of this damn planet, the absent Marshall of the Imperium, would return and relieve him of his post. Nowadays all he could do was hope, the forces that were seemingly causing the planet to die were far beyond human control - thus no clever political solution would resolve the issue for good.
Of course, that didn't mean he didn't get all the blame for everything going wrong - and he'd received more than one lengthy rant about his failures of administration from the lord's wife. Everything that was happening was clearly his fault, or at least that was what everyone seemed to think.
Today's news was about as depressing as usual recently. Over 400,000 people were murdered last night, an almost 40% increase from the night before. It seemed the local gangs were taking full advantage of the planet's crisis to enrich themselves and get back at their enemies. Phillip wanted to crush them under heel, but if he tried right now he'd be the one most likely to end up in a shallow grave.
Phillip's three-fingered hand stroked his very trapezoid chin as he read through the report once again, and noticed a small detail within the report and his heart stopped beating in his chest.
He placed a trembling hand on his heart and did his best attempt to calm his racing thoughts. He needed to keep a steady head, or at least steady enough to try and figure out whether or not he might be catastrophising just a little bit too much.
He began to write down the afflictions affecting the planet on a list. Acute Mana Deviation, the accelerated Rate at which Monsters seem to level, and now, an outright incurable plague. There were 3 of the 10 tell-tale symptoms of that thing heading this way.
Phillip strained every neuron in his mind to try and dissuade himself from his own insane theory as to what was going to happen in the near future, but no matter how much or how hard he tried to reassure himself that this was all just a severe planetary pathogen that could eventually be excised - he grew less able to entertain the more optimistic scenario being correct.
3 otherwise extremely rare phenomena inflicting a planet in an almost clockwork fashion. If he was right in his theory then this was only the start but that meant it was already too late for him, the planet's population, and most likely, the whole Imperium.
Aphosis was coming.
Phillip was dragged from his catastrophising thoughts by a loud knock on the door. Before he could even announce that the person could enter, an armoured man barged into the room with a worried look on his face.
"Admin, sir, one of the gangs has launched a raid on the noble districts in the name of the people - they have nearly breached the defences." The humanoid said between gasping breaths.
Phillip immediately forgot all of his thoughts about the future, dropped to his knees and asked meekly, "What of my wife and children? Are they alright?"
The man shook his head and Phillip felt a coldness consume him as his reason for being drained away from him. Then, the man who'd barged into his room, cocked a smile, before rushing towards him - sword raised high and before Phillip could even think of resisting, the man's blade dug into his throat.
Dying as someone with enhanced healing was not an easy or short process. He died slowly, painfully, and, just as he had lived, he died alone at his place of work.