In the vastness of space, beyond the rumbling border of void and destruction that separated the self-proclaimed ‘Living Realm’ from the rest of the infinite existences in an endless universe, existed the domain of Szirsaxal.
It was a separate space belonging only to her. If she was no more, it would be no more. If she grew stronger, it would grow too.
A domain unique to the one who had created it.
She had many names, given to her by the beings she reached out to give a seed of divinity to or by those she had deemed unworthy of existence.
Her followers were uncountable and variable and each of them was connected to her in some way. Each had a purpose and a destination, and each worked to enrich her eternal existence. There was so much universe to explore and purify, yet so many obstacles too. A good following was a must.
Like a trillion spots of light, those devoted to her roamed around the various worlds and realms, like busy worker bees, and spread her will and did her bidding. Her mind was separated into countless fragments that each dealt with prayers, dreams, destruction, and avatars.
Often the spots of light would go dark, killed or having reached the end of their lifespan. She sometimes rewarded her subjects with longevity and gave them more time, but only when they earned it.
She was also gracious and welcomed back the souls of those who passed to her holy domain.
If the soul was weak, or strong and useful, she would repurpose it and give them a second life so they could serve again.
If the soul was strong, but plagued by stray thoughts or she simply decided on a whim, she would use it to nourish the rest and herself.
Such was the way of purity. Death by death, iteration by iteration, all the unclean thoughts traits, and desires would be stripped until only one thing remained – devotion to her.
One particular mind caught her attention. It was a peculiar one as the connection to her became muted and a bit strange. It had happened many times before, and it happened again soon after she noticed this one but she still devoted an insignificant part of her mind to it.
Eternity was a boring affair when one got used to it, and Gods often paid attention to their believers to pass the time.
Information instantly flowed into her mind.
A lowly priest from one of the Churches who had infiltrated the ‘Living Realm’ to conquer and sacrifice a newly integrated world to her. One of few.
A noble effort. Such worlds were filled with tasty treats and brought along many bonuses from the System.
Too bad.
Her reach was wide, but the Living Realm was well protected and Gods were not welcome, apart from the few who had bowed before the Thrones. There were so many potential believers there… it was a waste.
But she did not want to antagonize the Thrones. It was not yet time to clash with the rulers of the mortals.
However, a little look would not hurt anyone. A pulse of her divine will followed the thread of belief that still held strong. There was a lot of fear in this follower - fear from her, and to a lesser extent from the System. That was good. Followers who put the System above their God did not grow as devoted and useful.
Belief in her was based on either blind devotion or all-consuming fear and she made sure to instill both, wherever she saw fit.
Szirsaxal’s divine will slipped through wards and storms and guardians and finally reached the world where her priest had decided to fight for her. She took a peek at his thoughts and watched his memories of a fight against yet another nest of humans.
They were everywhere.
Something suppressed the strand of divine will. She knew that feeling, and she pulled back immediately. The System was nothing to toy with but it was passive and allowed a lot to those in power. If it had decided to use her followers as a teachable lesson for the newly integrated world, so be it.
The mention of a shadowless piqued her interest though. An old race. Older than even her.
Her will tried to follow the trace. To see who it belonged to and if there was gain there. It moved quickly. No matter what protections were put in place, a simple strand of will was hard to catch even if it could extinguish worlds.
A hand reached out of the void and caught her will as if it was a but a fly. Szirsaxal felt a bit of a surprise, but nothing more. Whoever it was that had touched her strand of will, would suffer soon. She prepared to teach a lesson when the strand was extinguished.
Szirsaxal’s infinitely large body twitched and many parts of her mind collapsed upon one another to become one and focused.
Something came.
The barrier of her domain was ignored. No one was able to take a step into even the weakest God’s domain if they were not allowed. Such was the Divine will.
The presence that came did it almost with no effort.
That meant one thing and one thing only. She hated nothing more than the beings that roamed that vast and untouchable realm.
“Little thing, swimming in foreign waters, where do you think you are looking?”
The voice echoed throughout infinity and every millimeter of her divine soul trembled. This was not good.
Her domain was her will and there was nothing that could hide in it. Yet, she found nothing.
The voice snickered.
“A blind little godling. Watch where you stick your little head, lest someone decides to smash it.”
A memory of her mortal days flashed through all the little pieces of her mind and shook her to the core of her divinity. That life was far behind her, yet it appeared as if it had happened moments ago.
She saw the hand of her first body. She felt it as it moved and reached for a pretty flower.
Little did she know that there was a small thorn on its stem that bit at her tender skin, making a single drop of blood drop.
Szirsaxal felt the pain in her soul and all of her senses focused on the single foreign thing that appeared in her domain.
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A thorny rose fell slowly through the white infinity.
Szirsaxal thought about it long. Ultimately, she decided to leave it alone.
Some things were better left untouched.
Her large body of blinding pure white tentacles stretched lazily in the infinite space. Her mind tried to ignore everything that had happened just now and split again, following her more important devotees.
She was powerful. She was timeless.
But even time was not on her side when it came to Spirits.
***
Most of the Sanctuary was left in ruins, but Rosalyn was sure the rebuilding wouldn’t take long. They had to hurry though.
Their new leader Ashlyn, had remained silent no matter what they asked of her. She had also changed… becoming more aggressive. It was much more than a simple reaction to Alan’s disappearance. Her eyes had not gone back after the change caused by her skill. Her body had grown stronger. Her instincts were sharper.
Ashlyn didn’t seem to care that without the protection of the barrier, the Sanctuary would be ripe for the picking once night came and the horrors roaming the Forest crawled out.
Rosalyn sighed and used the damp cloth to continue cleaning her armor. The cleansing charms were too precious to waste now that they had lost a few of the [Enchanters].
At least Cole was not making trouble, keeping his usually rowdy people in line and making preparations for the coming of the night. Everyone had agreed to set up a small perimeter around the World Temple, using debris and remains of buildings to fashion a wall.
Rosalyn hoped that it would not be tonight if any attacks were to come.
She saw Ashlyn making a bee-line toward her and straightened up feeling a pang of fear. The girl’s beastly eyes stopped on her.
“Ashlyn, we need--,” she paused as the intimidating woman pat her shoulder. There was a large bulging sack on Ashlyn’s back and she seemed to have retrieved her bow from the battlefield.
“Accept,” Ashlyn said. Her tone left no room for arguing and Rosalyn took a breath. A system message lit up in her mind.
Ashlyn Jeong has relegated the Leadership of Sanctuary 142 (Earth) to you.
Do you accept? Y/N
She hesitated but ultimately accepted.
Congratulations! You have become the new Leader of Sanctuary 142 (Earth).
You have been granted Protection for a month.
You have been granted access to Sanctuary Management, which can be accessed through the World Temple.
You have been granted the Title: Leader.
Ashlyn was already walking away. There was most likely no stopping her. And maybe it was better that she went away… Rosalyn had barely saved Cole and his people from her after Alan had disappeared.
Emerson’s disappearance was probably related to the System or Emerson’s God. If Cole could pull off something like this, then the whole petty and foolish conflict would’ve been avoided. The man had denied doing anything, and Rosalyn was sure he told the truth. And while she could've forced things and asked the right questions to stop him from twisting events... she didn't want to. They needed every person on hand to survive. Playing truth detector and pointing fingers would have only led to more destruction and suffering for those who remained. The good of all was above the need of one for revenge.
She briefly wondered if the girl could have killed all those men, but after seeing her fight the purespawn, she had no doubt that few things could stop her. At the very least, she would do massive damage, even if she was killed in the end.
That skill Ashlyn was falling into would make her too dangerous for a society like the one they were trying to create. And the whispers of truth Raslyn heard hadn’t let her down before. They told her to stay away from the beastly woman.
Alan’s disappearance was strange. Some thought he was playing another game as the guy was proving to have a growing penchant for drama. Others figured he had been in the whole plan along with Emerson, which didn’t really explain why he had almost died a few times protecting the Sanctuary.
No one wanted to voice their opinion outright though, and there was no time for that.
Rosalyn centered herself, removing all useless thoughts, and strode toward the World Temple. There was work to be done if they wanted to survive the night.
She had asked Mr. Muge for assistance and thankfully the man had accepted. He and his people didn’t seem to care much about the safety of the Sanctuary itself, but they had still felled a massive amount of purespawn even if they had not come to participate in the final battle.
The mystery of the blacksmith working with Mr. Muge remained too; whoever they were their skills were certainly the best in their Sanctuary judging by some of Mr. Muge's weapons.
Not that it mattered right now. Thankfully the losses of non-combatants were not heavy. It was mostly [Enchanters] they had lost, as the class proved more addicted to their work than any other.
The losses in combat power were great, but those who lived had gained a lot. Her reward was six whole levels, and a Skill Stone which had granted her the second offensive ability she had. Considering that she hadn’t managed to kill many spawns, it was a massive gain.
She stepped into the World Temple and quickly appeared in the misty room inside. Her mind swam with possibilities and she focused on the new Sanctuary Management part.
Various options including materials, energy shields, rearrangement of buildings, renovations, ritual circles, portals, shops, and others overwhelmed her. The options seemed endless.
And all cost System Points.
Rosalyn frowned and focused on the System Points, bringing up the information about them.
System Points are earned with each achievement, kill, or otherwise contribution you make toward the cycle of existence itself.
Most trophies such as monster remains, ancient knowledge, enchanted items, etc. can also be traded for System Points in World Temples.
SP can in turn be converted to the preferred currency of one’s corner of the Universe.
Converting SP into currency is encouraged as SP cannot be traded between individuals and can be used directly only in services provided by the System.
Personal System Points available: 114
Sanctuary System Points: 137213
Can only be used for the betterment of Sanctuary 142 (Earth)
Rosalyn gaped for a few moments, then got to work figuring out how everything worked. The clock was ticking.
***
As the sun set, a gnarly hand broke the earth and a nasty monster crawled out. Its flesh wiggled and maggots ran over it, patching the holes that had rotted open during the daytime. The flesh quickly molded together and the creature stood up.
The wailer immediately started moving as it did every night. It was not the same wailer, of course, they never were the same. Each night the maggots were different as the old ones traveled back to the Rot Mother to transfer what they had learned.
Learning was quickly proven to be a good strategy for the future. As the Rot Mother started gathering information and remembering more and more of herself, so did her creations start evolving.
The wailers had avoided the humans for a long time now. They did not care as they did not have the capability of doing so. The maggots inside of them operated under set instructions; their tiny minds could not connect and act without their mother’s guidance. All they could do was remember.
This particular wailer walked fast; it ran down a path the maggots knew well because those before them had walked it all the same. They watched the golden dome of the humans every night, before sinking into the earth and traveling back to their mother’s nest.
Tonight, something was different. The wailer, of course, could not understand that. It simply memorized what it saw. And it could see much, as it was special.
It had only two eyes, strong like those of an owl and capable of seeing far, and a lithe body incapable of combat apart from the usual screams.
It watched throughout the night as the tiny human forms walked around, impatient, lost. Their home was different too, broken and dirty.
The strong smell of blood was memorized as well.
There was something that made the maggots instinctually afraid though.
Many, many fires. Huge fires, burning with the rage of their human masters and threatening the rotting flesh connected by them.
Some of the maggots knew and remembered what had happened in the other human home they found. Beyond the forest, just at its end. It was surrounded by sand that made it difficult to hide and that dried out the flesh too fast; even their mother avoided the area.
There they had tasted the fire of one lone human, and many had burned that night.