How much time had passed? I couldn't say for sure. And anyway, what did it matter in the end? It had been a long time since I'd lost count of the days, and even my apostle was too focused on the environment or too exhausted to glance at the clock on his Status.

And I could hardly blame her, as I had near-zero morale due to this hellish routine. After all, changing hiding places had become a habit. We usually stayed only a few hours, a few days if we were lucky, but never longer.

The worst part of it all was the various reasons why strangers explored our hiding places, even if, most often, it was for reasons of war between groups or to supply slaves. This last point gave me the creeps, as we'd met several times with humans in the city who wanted to sell my apostle to so-called high-ranking people.

These people were seen as emissaries of the gods, whatever that meant. They had supernatural strength and abilities beyond the reach of ordinary mortals. At least, that was the image these people had of these superior beings. Along with my apostle, we could only draw one conclusion: it described people who possessed a Class level and knew how to use magic.

You didn't hear me wrong; all the humans in this place knew no magic. At most, they had scrolls lent to them by these high-ranking people to compensate. These had fixed spells that could be activated by contact with a person's magic. Parchments were, therefore, magical tools like any other.

But the most astonishing thing was that, despite the humans' ignorance of this place of spell construction, they possessed magic all the same. What was the point of equipping humans with magic they couldn't use to defend themselves against people from the upper world? What was the System's purpose with this nonsense? Unfortunately, I didn't have enough information to answer that question.

Besides, if the humans of this world couldn't use magic but could activate the scrolls, then there were only two possibilities. Either the scrolls held a function to seek out magic within a person and extract it without their consent, in which case the person could die from using a scroll containing a spell too powerful for their reserves.

Alternatively, humans here managed to unconsciously control their magic and transmit it to the scroll when they wished to use it. This second possibility was exciting, as it suggested that these humans could use magic without even knowing it, by sheer force of Will.

In any case, I was determined not to stay in this place any longer. In retrospect, this hope was really laughable, which was vain in the short term but paid off in the long term. After all, I'd spent fifty years here, from 900 BC to 850 BC, although most of that history doesn't merit more than a passing mention.

My inability to equip myself with a Class had considerably slowed down for a long time. The Class required sufficient self-knowledge to perceive even the surface of the abyss of one's own entrails. You had to know your worst faults and true nature and how to bring them to the surface when suitable.

This last point prevented me from becoming aware of my Class and my Job, which was not yet available because of my insufficient Authority. It was true that I was a little afraid of discovering the kind of monstrosity I could contain and what I was capable of to fulfill my Desire.

After all, during our quest for lasting shelter alone, we'd come across people we'd killed several times. We had to understand we could hardly leave them alive. It was either them or us, and the easiest way to eliminate potential problems was to simply make them disappear.

We had no desire to burden ourselves with additional problems, mainly because of our mental fatigue. All we wanted was a place to stay undisturbed for a long time. However, it seemed that I was asking too much of this city of messy architecture and overwhelming overcrowding.

And even this last point was an understatement, for unlike outside the city, the rooms here were small and the corridors narrow. The corridors often opened out from the ceiling or the floor, and the rooms seemed to contain little or no space between them as if the architecture had been designed to accommodate as many people as possible.

I said "almost", because in some places I noticed that the walls of the rooms contained spaces. I didn't want to brag about it, but I had to admit I had an excellent spatial perception. The most logical explanation would have been that the walls were thicker in some places, but this seemed illogical.

After all, almost all the walls were of similar thickness, so why should a few be any different? It was obvious that these places were there to hide something. I didn't know what I would discover, but I was nonetheless impatient, imagining it would be handy. And for once, I was right in a way I hadn't even suspected.

For the moment, however, I could only stand by helplessly, unable to open the wall and reveal its secrets. The only thing in my power at the moment was to observe this violent society and its miserable inhabitants. And my dismay at them.

"Aren't they, my dear countrymen?"

"My Goddess, they can hardly answer you in this state!" replied Systalia, laughing lightly.

Smiling inwardly at the horrible truth of her sentence, I continued: "I know, corpses still smoking from their ineptitude can't answer. I hope they find peace in their next life, though I pity their next incarnation."

Taking on an air of pity, she could only exclaim: "It's true, I wouldn't like to be in their shoes. They'll have to reincarnate with Malus in their next life. It's bad enough that getting out of this Classless world is impossible, but having a malus in this environment where the slightest weakness is punished is even worse. Their chance of obtaining a Class in the next life, as far away as possible, now sounds like a mirage to them."

Intrigued by this story of the impossibility of winning a Class, I asked: "If it really is impossible to win a Class, how do you plan to get to the top of this World? And didn't you tell me that you could change Class by becoming too strong for your world?"

My apostle seemed lost in thought for a few moments, then said: "What I said before was true: statistics, magical power, or skills too different from the standard of the social world a person lives in can propel them to a higher Class or enable them to gain a Class."

In short, what my sister said was simple: if we wanted to leave this social world, as she called it, we had to become like gods in the eyes of these people. We had to appropriate the power of the gods for ourselves. Now, I had to decide whether I wanted to become a benevolent or malevolent god.

This opposition was incorrect because I already knew the answer: I would become what would bring me the most profit. And if I had trouble choosing, I could even play both: a benevolent and malevolent goddess. After all, I'd already killed plenty of people, so what was to stop me from doing it all over again?

You could vilify me, but you should know that even as I write these lines, I don't feel the slightest remorse for the many murders I've perpetrated throughout my life. I admit that not all of them were justified; most of them were. Nevertheless, if I brandish these murders as my own, I also take responsibility for them.

I'd instead acknowledge my wrongdoing in the eyes of this World and see these murders as a necessary step on my path to wisdom rather than deny it and play into the hands of this World and this society. Moreover, to feel remorse for these murders would seem inhuman to me since it would be tantamount to denying the crucial role they played in my psyche and the questions they raised.

To feel remorse would mean that these people had died for nothing and that their deaths had no value. And I sincerely believe that this would be disrespectful to them and dehumanize them. At least, with a death that impacted their murderer, they had been able to contribute in their own way to changing this World. They had shown their humanity to this pitiless World.

In conclusion, I could hardly express the slightest remorse towards them since I would never want to sully their importance to my development, and at least they can be proud of not having had a pointless death as is far too often the case in this insensitive World.

And that's why I made sure that each and every one of them would end up joining me forever. That each dead person would not return to this infernal cycle of reincarnation and instead end their life in the Void's paradise.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Then, in death, I could offer them the coveted reward that the World, through the System, prevented them from even desiring. But hey, you don't want to hear more about my present self, so let's pick up where we left off.

Coming out of my thoughts, I saw Systalia hesitate to continue, to finally proclaim in an uncertain voice: "In practice, it's impossible because, without any Class, it's impossible to learn enough about spells or even to increase one's Authority to become powerful enough with magic to be seen as a danger to the inhabitants of this social world and be sent to a higher world. Increasing Permission is also unthinkable, given that understanding the System can only be achieved through complicated books. And learning for yourself would be far too time-consuming or hazardous in practice unless you have extraordinary skill or analytical ability. Although, even then, the System would block direct analysis of itself. I don't know why I even considered the possibility before because there's no prospect of that."

I had not decided to ask Systalia where she'd got all this information about the System since she didn't have any Class like me, nor did she possess any magical ability despite it. However, one element in her words intrigued me: having an analytical ability external to the System could theoretically allow you to prove it.

As a thought took shape within me, to be on the safe side, I asked one last question: "My apostle, is this the whole truth? Is the System analysis by a source completely independent of it really possible?"

At the mention of her title and my formal voice, Systalia took on a solemn tone: "Yes, My Goddess, this information is entirely true. Having said that, I'd like to point out that everything in this World is governed by the System, making the implementation of this plan uncertain. Analysis skills, abilities, or spells would be rendered useless by the System itself if used against it. Nature is not to be probed; knowledge outside the books would bring our own downfall. Well, I've never believed that sentence, but it's what most people hold to be true."

I pondered his last sentence momentarily, thinking it wasn't so meaningless after all. Indeed, knowledge outside that provided by the System could well be their own undoing. With hindsight, I'd add that understanding the System would lead to understanding the World, inevitably leading to an awareness of the hell of this society in people's minds.

So, to protect people from the purest madness of the meaning of their actual life and the erroneous caricature of their belief, this knowledge, this Pandora's box, should not be opened. Unless the awakening of consciousness was gradual, which, as things stood, was impossible because of the way society worked and, above all, because of the World's Will.

After a few thoughts, I smiled inwardly before concluding: "Nothing is omniscient, my Dear Apostle, be it the System or the World. There are truths that even the System or the World ignore and which will lead them to their own doom soon enough. So, in my capacity as Void, I assure you I would carry out this plan and take us to the top of the world."

Naturally, my apostle was taken aback by my words; indeed, she hadn't grasped their whole meaning, perhaps wondering if I wasn't making things up. And yet, I did have a plan I intended to implement. But I'd have to stop wandering around the city's dangers to start experimenting.

Especially since we only had a few scrolls left, all the others being used to kill any meddlers coming our way. Indeed, having seen on my Status that the damage caused by using the Void was irreversible, I had convinced myself to use it only as a last resort when all hope was lost.

Moreover, this use restriction also benefited my apostle, who inherited all my debuffs and inherent characteristics through his special bond with me. I could only deplore my lack of Authorization, which restricted my access to information about the link between me and my sister. I set the quest to increase my Authorization level at the top of my to-do list.

Realizing that I didn't want to continue the conversation, Systalia turned away from the corpse, glancing at it briefly one last time before finally leaving. We walked away, a little hope seeping into my mind and indeed into hers, considering the luminous expression formed by the muscles in her face.

Would we be found because of our murders? It was highly improbable since so many murders took place here every day, so many corpses were looted, and so many rooms destroyed that I never considered the possibility plausible. And yet, even if it were a very long time after these events, these crimes would betray me.

Much to my chagrin, they would benefit those who wanted to track my shadow, unearth the secrets of my actions, and rise. Without realizing it, I was leaving too many traces, although it was hardly my fault. How can you erase traces you're unaware of and whose erasing methods are unknown to you for lack of appropriate knowledge?

Looking back on the situation I'd gotten myself into, I realized I shouldn't be too hard on myself. That was all I needed to know if I had made the best choice given the information available and my current lack of knowledge. Even if that choice was harmful to me in the future.

A few hours had already passed since this event, and we were now walking through dimly lit alleyways filled with shady humans who had no qualms about slitting the throats of the slightest stranger. And with good reason: all these people seemed to be gang members. Maybe all the people in town were in gangs.

The only certainty I had was that there were castes in this crime-ridden city, with gangs that seemed more powerful. How were they organized? What was the difference between gangs? These two questions remained to be discovered to me.

Despite the opportunities to learn more, we had no desire to be there when another group of humans would be sent in once the gang realized that some of these elements weren't coming back. So, since we had no desire for premature death, we kept our distance for the time being.

Nevertheless, part of me knew that one day I'd have to go to the confrontation if only to make my Void more powerful. Indeed, corpses can be absorbed and converted into Void's energy. When Systalia's Body, Spirit, and Soul were reconstituted, the Void's energy originally derived from corpses was fully utilized.

Otherwise, what else could I say about this city? That it was grayish for us, my sister having definitely lost her color vision like me, or that it was dirty and smelly? Just contemplating this magnificent ground littered with detritus, murky water, corpses, blood, and luminescent substances of more than dubious provenance.

And I hadn't even mentioned the city's restful scent, so relaxing that you could die before you knew it. I couldn't decide which was worse: the rancid smell of corpses, the stench of strange substances, the metallic smell of blood, or the rotten egg smell of water.

I couldn't tell if this place was a dump turned into a home or a city turned into a dump. The only good thing was that some of the objects on the ground seemed usable and generally in better condition than outside the city. The outside of the city was undeniably the city's rubbish dump, while the town was the rubbish dump of the upper world.

And even if I wanted to pick up garbage on the ground, my sister would never have had enough strength to do so, especially since, due to the transfer of my debuff to her, her strength had been declining lately, down to an equivalent of my former strength. Thus, this debuff reduced stats until they reached predefined fixed values, whatever the starting values.

And if that were the case, it would have been the worst-case scenario. The best case would have been a reduction of a fixed amount on the statistics. And the intermediate case would have been a reduction in statistics by a certain percentage. Unlike these last two cases, my apostle could not increase his stats in the future. And that's why the present case was worse.

Pensive and perplexed by these achievements, I could only observe the surroundings with an indifferent air. I was fed up with this city, with its nonsensical architecture and seemingly infinite surface area. Despite all the time I'd spent in the town, I had the unpleasant impression that I'd only covered a tiny fraction. To say that the city was immense was a radical understatement.

We were at our wits' end, tired mentally and, for my apostle, physically. His body was in bad shape due to a noticeable lack of rest and the various sharp objects on the ground. We were really at our wits' end as we looked at the endless succession of rooms that the corridor led to, all more or less identical. The sight alone depressed us deeply, finishing off what little will we had left.

The positive point of our journey was the clothes, which, for the moment, didn't cause us any additional hatred. From an outsider's point of view, we were mistaken for a gang of some sort, neither too tall nor too short. At least it didn't increase the number of people we had to fight.

Moreover, the gangs weren't chasing us at all costs at the slightest death we caused among their ranks. This could only mean that they didn't consider us worthy enough to spare resources just to hunt us down and have the satisfaction of killing us.

After all, these gangs had to fight each other on a near-permanent basis, posing a far greater threat and loss of human lives than the two of us. In the back of my mind, I could only hope that it would always remain that way, even if I knew that my desire to develop our power was incompatible with that wish. In the end, it was just wishful thinking.

And just as we were losing hope, tiredness catching up with us, we were suddenly awakened from our lethargic state by a visceral sensation of being close to the place we had hoped for. But this sensation was hardly our own; it was transmitted to us. And as the feeling returned, my apostle's gaze fell on The Book she held firmly.

The Book was pointing us to a place, communicating to us via our unconscious the path to follow. At that very moment, we hardly bothered to ask ourselves how The Book did this or whether we should even listen to it. We were so desperate that we paid little attention to all these curious details, concentrating only on the destination to which The Book was directing us.

After an hour, we found ourselves in a narrower alleyway than usual and strangely little frequented. It needed to be more sparsely populated for my liking than the other rooms, which were vastly overcrowded. Something must be preventing people from coming to this place, which didn't inspire much confidence.

Nevertheless, another part of me felt that we were not afraid of being rejected from this area; quite the contrary. Something unknown here seemed to want us to come as if it had been waiting for us for ages, and we were happy that this day had finally arrived. It gave me a strange feeling as if I had an intimate knowledge of this place.

Still, this feeling was distinct from the usual reminiscences of my amnesia. It came from a time much earlier than the beginning of my life. To my regret, I could not fathom this sense of familiarity any further as a surreal vision suddenly captured my full attention.

A magnificent ageless pink sandstone door with phosphorescent grooves fascinated my mind, disturbing the very foundations of my being for some obscure reason. And I was hardly the only one to be so, considering my apostle's eyes riveted on it as if she were both hypnotized and overwhelmed by the mere sight of this door.

This impression of familiarity would stay with me for a long time, forming the basis for discovering an essential part of me and the unsuspected links between my sister and me. And this place symbolized the many immemorial secrets and fundamental Truths of this World.

With these ambivalent feelings about this mysterious place, we set out to venture inside this bewitching place that would change our lives and our understanding of the world forever.