Aristocratic carriages and processions rolled into the city one after the other, the surviving nobility quick to pledge their allegiance to the new king. All regardless of prior sides were accepted by the boy king Clovis at Chandra’s advice. Along with that a royal guard of sorts and standing armies of much of the locals in the Sunlight Fellowship was established to cement his power and safety, even after his otherworlder supports inevitably leave.
Festivity was held in the city streets by the common people while a more reserved but somewhat lively gathering held in the great hall of the cathedral. Food, drink, and entertainment was provided to the best of what was available on short notice, though most of Chariot didn’t even partake in the mingling.
“Guess brains run in the family.” Donny said to Kamala as he glanced at the line of notables kneeling in turn before the king.
“He is from the branch of Hypercognition.”
“Yeah, seems like it.”
Jean glanced at Basem whose vigilance was nearly palpable. “No one is going to risk attacking us now… There’s no reward for it.”
“People kill for no reason.” Basem didn’t change his attitude in the slightest, rather becoming even more alert in response to who was sauntering over.
“You’re so fortunate Chandra is soft.” Priya held a chalice of wine, a holy object by the look of things but she held it as though it were a common mere glass, glancing at Basem through his Unnoticeable trait with a smile that took pleasure in his discomfort.
“He knows better…”
“Of course. But you won’t be able to hide behind the champion forever.” Priya took a sip as she strolled on to her original destination. “Enjoy your freedom as much as you can.”
“Fight~?” Karla asked after looking at the priestess’ face.
“No…”
“Eventually.” Donny assured their battle maniac as their group of six continued to loiter patiently among the others.
“It’s good that we’re allied now.”
Vestra glanced over to the approaching Chandra with a cold gaze quite similar to the rest of her party, all waiting in a corner of the hall. “Better for you. And we are not allies.” She responded curtly.
“We’re all still in the tower. I hope we can be true allies the next time we meet.” Chandra took his leave with a smile. “Be well.”
Vestra’s eyes lingered on his departing back more than she needed, something one of the other elven women noticed. “It is not permitted.”
“Do not presume my thoughts.” A cold feeling of absence emanated from the shadowdancer. The other elf showed no fear in her equally unfeeling gaze but looked away in deference and kept silent, along with all the others. Vestra too kept to herself, though the words the champion had spoken in the tournament rose within her memories, words she quickly buried as was meant from her.
---
On the hill in the distance of the capital stood a group of less than thirty. Trained assassins all and their demeanor showed it, save for Renzo staring silently at the city celebrating its victory, his thoughts of a different path.
“Grandfather and Yuna conquered their worlds, definitely.” Mai spoke from the side, her attitude less than pleased though not entirely bothered. “I bet even father did better than this.”
“What is your point?” Renzo asked, a trace of frustration in his tone.
“You chose poorly.” Mai looked at him directly, her blunt words drenched in cold criticism. “There’s no heir anymore. Stop acting like one.”
Renzo didn’t respond, his eyes steeling as he looked back to the city one last time before leading the others at his leave, his mindset unchanged.
---
Shin sat on the roof of the cathedral by himself, having no interest in anything that was happening below. His expression still blank as he stared out to the rare orange dawn of this world. Blank, but the callous hostility had been replaced with an almost forlorn contemplation in the calm breeze.
“View’s not that good.” Yen commented as she flew over to a footing near him. “You know, normally the hermit wanderer thing is fine but everyone would feel better if you kept close until this is over.”
“What’s wrong with forever?”
The question caught Yen a bit off guard. It wasn’t a real question, not fully. Shin seemed to already have the answer and wasn’t looking for anything else, but still, he seemed longing for something. Something a bit more than just being understood. Yen opened her mouth slightly, then closed it, walking over to sit next to him on the ledge of the roof, her expression a bit more serious and genuine than usual.
“Anyone that says immortality is a curse or whatever is coping. Just like saying they’re happy in a bad situation. They’re just lying to themselves because they can’t change things…” Yen’s own thoughts drifted to something that made her somber, but quickly she banished that away with deliberate effort, as she raised her tone with a proud smile. “But this is a new world. We can be gods here.”
Shin stared at the baseless confident and ambition of the radiant mage, and a slight smile returned to his face. “Yeah.” The world froze around them with familiar sensation and Shin’s attention was drawn to the notices before him.
[Acquired Title: Vanquisher]
‘You have dominated a world of the lesser realm. 30% bonus to all stats.’
But more importantly, his second reward for the event was a choice of mythic tier abilities. Less valuable than his tournament reward as it was restricted to only abilities related to his class, but it was mythic tier all the same. There were many abilities Shin wanted to choose, but one took precedent over them all.
[Acquired mythic tier trait Inner Sanctuary.]
‘Hold a small plane within one’s soul.’
It let him create a small pocket world, a piece of land really, within him. There was very little combat value to speak off. It did hide his bonds from detection, but more importantly it allowed his spirits to live in something more than just the darkness of himself. Something Vicious regularly complained about, as did Inari. Kong and Mara didn’t but he knew they would feel better too.
“Is this all?” Vicious asked, his soul recently reformed and with news of Stein’s death, his mood had settled a bit, but his attitude remained hostile all the same.
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“Be grateful for what the king has given you.” Mara snapped back with regal animosity.
“Let me roam.” Venom tipped the dusk garm’s words.
“I can do that soon.” Shin smiled inwardly.
“I guess you made your choice if you’re talking with the spirits.” Yen spoke up, seeming to have finished as well. “Just checking, but you got Vanquisher, right?”
“Yeah. What did you pick?”
Yen beamed as her pride turned to hubris. “Essence of the Sun. Bypasses Fire Immunity. Not completely, but no one is going to walk off my spells anymore. You’re lucky you met me. I’m pretty special, you know.”
“Yeah.”
Yen’s face flushed with slight embarrassment at his blunt genuinity towards her bragging, but the world shifted around them and Chariot found themselves back in the serene forest, whole and stronger than ever. Shin looked at the party with a slight smile. He was lucky. And once they have forever, everyone will be lucky too.
---
Genjiro waited patiently among the carnage for his turn to act. The Igarashi guild and their temporary pawns slaughtered the forces of the Under King in this cavernous world. The plan of his granddaughter beside him had succeeded without issue, almost boringly so, though he did not fault her for their enemies being lacking.
Yugo crashed down nearby, ripping his axes out of his slain foe before lunging off to the next. He had a viking appearance about him, one that matched his class and behavior. Influence he wished he could have blamed on his patron god, but Genjiro knew this was simply the boy’s own nature. But that too was no fault. They were no longer a clan of solely assassins and spies after all.
Kurenai used her magic to rip open a door in the dimensional barrier and Genjiro stepped through before anyone noticed. Calmly and rapidly he strolled, the near invisible slash of his weapon reaping the lives of the creatures that lunged at him in the dark. A bore if he were to be honest, the novelty of effortless slaughter having long lost its thrill.
A mass of malevolent energy surged over in a giant stream, but he had already flicked to its source. A warrior’s glee found his face as he swung a glaive with the baleful aura of Bane at his terrified foe. The Under King blinked away, and Genjiro appeared in stance behind him. Again and again they flickered throughout the dark cavern until finally the Warlord’s blade severed the gray skinned gnome in half, through all his magic and defenses.
Genjiro rests his glaive on his shoulder before the slain foe. Patriarch he may be, but the old head of the Igarashi supposed he could only expected so much from one that lost in the first round. Still, he would not have to bare his boredom for long. Soon, very soon, he would have the war he always dreamed of.
---
Elsewhere, Atilla held an iron masked goliath by the neck, the towering berserker’s body broken and defeated. But the red haired hercules of the Atreus showed nothing but unsurprised contempt.
“I yield…”
A sickening crack came from the patriarch’s neck as Atilla broke it with the clench of his fist, letting the man’s body fall without respect to join the many surrounding them. Victory had brought Atilla no joy. Victory was expected. Rather, his mood had worsened at the sight of the iron masked berserker as it reminded him of the others this detestable system had deemed superior to him. With the ruin of his invaded world, Attila Atreus thought only of destroying the three who dared to stand above him.
---
Sereth sat on a gilded throne, her posture graceful and bearing not the slightest trace of concern. The world she arrived in had long been conquered. Surrounding her were the mindless minions and chosen thralls, chief among them a patriarch who had made it to the fourth round, the greatest spoils she had collected.
But this was not enough. She needed more power, more might under her control. Shin would finish playing at friends soon, she knew, and their true opponents would be gods. Sereth was under no illusion that it would be simple, not for anyway but him at least. And she would be at his side when he was ready, her and no other.
---
“Traitor…” A dying man cursed.
Bando grinned back in amusement, his red skinned form with six arms sitting atop a hill of bloodied corpses. “You were stupid enough to trust me. Blame yourself if… hm.” The status of the man laid bare and Bando lost interest. This world had been fun but there was no more fun to had. Not here at least. Though when he thought back to his own home world in comparison to this, his excitement returned. He looked up to wherever the realm of the gods resided. There would be no shortage of fun in the tower.
---
“Why should I?” Jurandir Barbosa asked.
Bjorn’s scarred face soured. The War Surgeon possessed a powerful physique that should belong to a man far younger, though his snow white hair betrayed his age. It sickened Bjorn knowing what the man had been doing, but he needed power. He was still weak, far too weak to even hope of gaining revenge.
“...what do you want?”
“Making a deal with the devil is never wise.” Barbosa mockingly advised. “But there is something you can do.”
Bjorn’s expression collapsed into pure anger at the surgeon’s request, and before he knew it, he had swung his sword, the emanating force shattering the boulder the old man sat on and take a chunk of the forest with it. Barbosa had easily escaped, leaving Bjorn to seethe in rage without nothing gained at all, but he could not, would never do such a request. Bjorn cursed this tower and this system that allowed such evil to thrive. He would see them slain. If not this way, then another.
---
“War is only a means to an end. You must not desire it, only the result it brings.” Richard Pendragon marched through the finished battlefield, two young men following behind. “And war is not finished when the last enemy falls or surrenders.”
Roland glanced back at Darius. Older by nearly ten years, but the wastrel scum was beneath him in the line of succession, his tanned skin and golden eyes betraying his bastard birth. Darius caught notice and smiled back, the taunting attitude as if he knew everything only serving to worsen Roland’s mood.
Henry had died in the festival auction, to some nameless common filth at that. And they did not know how William met his end, but he never returned from that wretched island. That left him as the sole heir. The sole legitimate heir, Roland would never acknowledge his two bastard half brothers.
But he could not help but be wary. Henry and William were already his betters in combat, and Darius surpassed them still. Should their father fall, the carefree rogue might become more than just a thorn in his side. Though he hoped the worse would not come to pass. His father was capable and strong, and the Pendragons needed his leadership more than ever. With decorum and law broken down, might was most of what remained.
“There is a war coming.” Richard stopped before them, his presence as serious and solemn as ever. “A true war. Not these games. You must be ready for it.”
“Yes, father.” Roland answered with resolve. As the crown prince and symbol of stability, he needed to rise to the occasion, and he would. He vowed it. He would die before he let the Pendragons perish or fall into the wrong hands.
---
Lu Kang stood in perfect stance as his bloody wounds healed. The strain of overusing his Will ached every part of his body, soul, and mind and for it he had not even come close to winning. But there was no discouragement in his roused expression. “I’ll look for you when things start to happen. Don’t run.”
The world froze, taking away perception of the Battlemaster from Leon’s unconcerned face. The rewards of Vanquisher and a mythic tier skill took his attention for only a moment, as he knew what he wanted already.
“You should have finished them off.” The Incanter Nagi told him.
“It doesn’t matter.” Leon looked towards his party of ten with a casual calmly smile. Nothing really mattered.
---
Within the frozen world he had made a living hell, Micah find his consciousness brought before his patron goddess. Her piercing yellow eyes and sickeningly beautiful features still shot fear into the core of his being, no matter how many times he was called.
“This atones for your failure in the trials, at least. Are you satisfied? Whatever you gain, those above you gain even more.” Her cruel words pulled on Micah’s envy and insecurity. “I will tolerate no betrayal, not of your loyalty nor my expectations.”
Malevolence swelled within the Cursemancer. “I will cause them the greatest misery.”
---
Shin sat calmly in the forest, his pleasant focus trained on inscription. The others had agreed that there was little to do at the moment but train and further events would likely soon follow, so their priority now, was to prepare for it. Shin didn’t think they needed to worry as much as they did, but he was never against training or any of them doing what they wanted.
“You certainly chose well.” Mask asked without warning, leaning against a nearby tree. “All with great wills or strange fates. All willing to march behind like good subjects on your twisted path.”
“Who are you?” Shin asked
“No one.” Mask answered. His position had changed to sitting atop a branch on the other side. “There’s no need to wonder about my intentions. It’s nothing important. I’ve merely come to greet a Prince of Chaos.”
“I’m not a prince.”
“You are.” Mask spoke plainly, as if correcting a child. “No matter. Whether you accept it or not changes nothing. But I will leave you with a bit of help. There is a traitor among you.”
All trace of the strange jester disappeared from Shin’s senses before he knew it, and he returned his focus pleasantly back to his talismans. The words of Mask’s warning had left Shin’s mind the moment they entered his ears, as if he would not even humor their existence. He had chosen them, and he would never be against any of them doing what they wanted.