Given his bad experience, Orodan made it an active habit to stay away from temples and the priesthood. But what was one to do when the priesthood came to him?

His loop to seek his teacher the Grandmaster Adeltaj went as normal… right until he began noticing some minor differences as he entered Velestok to make way for the House Simarji lumber yard.

Said ‘minor differences’ being the diviners from the Cathedral of Karilsgard patrolling the streets in pairs of two, on the lookout for something.

He was being tracked.

Given that this hadn’t happened in prior loops, Orodan had a weird feeling that it was related to the fact that he’d obtained a Mythical skill and had an actual Avatar of Ilyatana descend to speak to him.

Fate and the threads of it were a weird thing which Orodan had only ever heard of in passing, but despite the fact that he didn’t understand what they were he knew that the priesthood of Ilyatana, Goddess of Fate, were capable of using these threads to discern the possible future of people… and they could also be used to track someone.

For now, though, it seemed the diviners weren’t able to pinpoint him and they weren’t gravitating towards him either. So he decided to make way for the lumber yard.

Approximately a minute later as he called for Adeltaj Simarji and gave the Adept-level guards a relatively gentle few smacks when they tried to kick him out, he realized the problem.

The moment he interacted with someone, the diviners seemed to know exactly where he was and would follow.

Instead of the Elite-level responders of House Simarji… the first four to respond this time were white robed diviners of the Cathedral.

“Ah, I believe we’ve found our mysterious man who can cause such powerful ripples in the tapestry of fate,” the leading woman spoke, and Orodan surmised she was at least Elite-level. “Young man, might we have a moment of your time? The Goddess Ilyatana wishes to speak to you. Your fate and influence on the world is profound!”

“But unfortunately, I do not wish to speak to her, so it appears we are at an impasse,” Orodan replied as his hand went to his weapon, causing the woman to frown. “I have no desire to fight you, but if you push the matter… you leave me no choice.”

“Our Goddess demands an audience with you, and as her loyal faithful we shall deliver. Are you perhaps a heretic or an enemy of our Goddess?” the woman asked as her hands began to glow with a soft light as well. Behind her, the three other white robed diviners prepared for a fight as well, two of them wearing armor underneath their robes.

Orodan recalled just what Ilyatana had tried to do to him, and he made his decision. Training with Adeltaj Simarji would have to be set aside for a while, he would have to direct his loops in bashing his head against a new wall that stood before him first.

“A heretic? Maybe. But an enemy of your Goddess?” Orodan asked, and then he moved.

The leading diviner’s head flew.

“Definitely!”

Ilyatana could go to hell.

***

Diviner teams from the Cathedral weren’t particularly good at actual combat. Yes, they used light magic, but unlike what the priesthood claimed, it really was no more than just another element. Light magic was nothing unique or holy, and when empowered by mana, Orodan’s Mana Resistance rendered it rather null.

Diviner teams which encountered and threatened to bring him in quickly learned that magic was a poor idea.

Approximately three more slain groups of Elite-level priests later, they stopped sending them, and now Orodan stood before a pair of two Master-level individuals who were accompanied by thirty other people, a mixture of priests of Ilyatana and nearby Elite-level experts from noble houses that owed the Goddess a favor.

He had ordered the bruised Adept-level guards of the lumber yard to evacuate everyone ahead of time. He had that much respect for the workers and House Simarji at least.

They had arrived five minutes after he killed the last group of diviners. Of course, given that Orodan hadn’t bothered to leave and simply remained in the exact same position he had butchered the diviners of Ilyatana in… it wasn’t difficult to find him and arrive in force.

“Heretic, enemy of the Goddess, you’ve slaughtered faithful diviners of the Cathedral and offended our most holy… answer me, why have you done this?” the leading Master, an ancient looking woman, asked Orodan.

This was one of the Cathedral’s Master-level people. What her name and rank within the Cathedral were, Orodan didn’t know. But she definitely wasn’t a regular priestess, given her ornate robes and the way the Elites behind her hung on her every word.

“Ilyatana is my enemy, that is all. My conflict is not with the Cathedral as a whole, but simply with the Goddess of Fate and her followers,” Orodan spoke, and his weapons had been drawn and dripping with blood throughout the conversation. “Shall we get on with it?”

“Vile unbeliever… have you been seduced by the evil Gods of Guzuhar? An agent of Eldiron perhaps? One of our people sensed Agathor’s Blessing on you… was it not enough? Come to wreak destruction on our lands in the name of your foreign masters?” the old woman asked with a disgusted tone. “It matters not, we shall cleanse you in the name of the Prime Five.”

The old woman’s staff was drawn, and brilliant light magic erupted forth from it, and the other Master, a warrior, drew his great sword which burned with a near-blinding golden fire.

These people weren’t stupid. If someone was sought after by their Goddess for causing ripples in the threads of fate, and then this person slaughtered three groups of Ilyatana’s diviners, they were looking for a fight. And with that assumption the two Masters didn’t immediately commit to an all-out attack but were instead cautious as they probed Orodan with testing strikes.

The great sword-Master stood beside the Master light mage and chose not to charge Orodan.

A wise decision, as the luminous beams of light that could shatter entire city blocks levelled the lumber yard… but left Orodan completely unscathed. His Mana Resistance was far too strong for him to be affected by mages at the Master-level. It simply fed the reserves of Mana Black Hole.

And in response, Orodan charged right through the furious beams as though they were a mere illusory light show, something that caused the eyes of the Master-mage to widen in panic. But the great sword-Master intercepted him before he could kill her.

Unfortunately for her, she died anyways as an absolutely savage melee exchange began between Orodan and the great sword-Master. Wind blades created by the raw pressure of Orodan’s Death Rage empowered sword strikes ripped her to bits, even if the blows themselves never reached her.

The man was immediately forced to go all out right from the get-go and failed to protect his colleague and the thirty Elites behind her from the sheer collateral death zone of a melee exchange between two people fighting at the Master-level. The surrounding hundred metres were devastated.

“You bastard! That was my wife!” the man roared as his frenzy grew and he fully committed to a fight to the death.

“Maybe you should have had her stand farther back then,” Orodan replied as he met the man’s furious blows. Seriously, who allowed a mage within even a hundred metres of a warrior?

The man was stronger than Ovuru, but not by much. But what would have once been an impossible struggle just to survive… now became an even battle as Orodan was fighting a melee specialist at the Master-level for the first time without getting killed.

Over a hundred attacks were exchanged in the span of a half-second, and the man’s Blessing must have been strong for he possessed a powerful ability to heal from any damage he took even as Orodan hacked and carved his flesh with his Weapon Aura empowered sword.

But seconds dragged on, and the seconds turned to minutes, and slowly but surely Orodan’s damage began to overwhelm the man’s healing. And finally, as the man realized he might die, he came to his senses and lost his suicidal mentality.

Nobody got to the Master-level by being reckless and overly emotional.

He attempted to disengage and flee.

Unfortunately for him… Orodan’s second Blessing from Agathor prevented any of his opponents from fleeing or evading his attacks. His opponents would face him as a warrior and win, or they would die.

A ferocious All-Strike was thrown, doubled by the Action Increase, and the man’s entire body was disintegrated as the surrounding mile of landscape faced utter destruction. The last look on the great sword-Master’s face being one of confusion as to why he couldn’t flee.

As he stood upon the cratered ground, Orodan paused a moment to reflect on just how effective the training with Adeltaj and his crafting had been. Weapon Aura allowed him to actually use his sword throughout higher level fights, which was a fantastic amplifier as his Sword Mastery was higher than his Unarmed Combat Mastery.

Additionally, many of his active combat skills had crossed the Adept-threshold, alongside his Physical Fitness. Finally, Death Rage was a powerful multiplier as always. And All-Strike… it was just too strong, as expected of a Legendary rarity skill which poured all his energy pools into a singular attack.

Combined together, all his skills allowed him to hit far above his weight class, which was at the Adept-level but nearing Elite. He could essentially jump two tiers to fight now, which was stupendous. And he hadn’t even factored in his Mythical skill, which he hadn’t used throughout the fight.

With the great sword-Master’s death the clearing fell silent, and Orodan heard the familiar footsteps of an old man approaching.

“Quite the destructive play session you’ve engaged in young man…”

Count Rohanus wasn’t flying in on his silver-feathered griffin to respond to the devastation of his lumber yard this time. Perhaps the killing of two Masters had made the man wary?

“Grandmaster Adeltaj Simarji, I’ve been seeking you,” Orodan greeted. “I seek your tutelage, but I fear we don’t have much time as the Avatar of a Goddess might be descending upon me as we speak.”

Well, depending on how much the Goddess suspected Orodan. Last loop she somehow knew when a Mythical skill was acquired by him, but this loop it wasn’t quite the same.

“You come in, beat up the guards, and then trash my descendant’s lumber yard with your scuffle against the priesthood… at least you had the decency to evacuate the people inside… but is this how you approach everyone young man?” Adeltaj asked in that annoyingly sarcastic tone of his. But Orodan could admit his sense of diplomacy and manners was… lacking, to say the least.

“Yes, yes, I apologize old man, I didn’t mean to wreck the lumber yard, but I need to ask you some questions before judgement descends upon me,” Orodan quickly directed.

“If you decided to destroy this nice lumber yard and a mile of forest preserve while killing dozens of Cathedral mutts just to ask me a question… then it must be quite the question,” the old man assented.

“First of all, how can a mortal defeat an Avatar of a Goddess?”

“…you really decided to start with such a ridiculous question right out the gate?” the old man mocked, but he continued. “It’s impossible… or at least from what I know anyways. Even Grandmasters are but children before the might of an Avatar, especially if the God possessing it doesn’t care about the life of the host. Perhaps a powerful monster at the Grandmaster-level could do it, or those beyond the level of dual-Grandmasters.”

“But there has to be a way, right? Aren’t Gods just beings that managed to ascend through the System?” Orodan asked, and the old man had an amused smile on his face in response.

“Now where did you hear that sort of heretical nonsense?” Adeltaj mockingly asked. “Why I’ve heard heretics say the most sacrilegious things… including what you speak of.”

“Then… what direction would one start focusing their training, if one wished to defeat an Avatar? When I was restrained by one before… it was as though the magical bindings weren’t made of mana.”

“You’re correct, Avatars don’t use mana, they use something else, and that’s the reason why the host is in such poor shape after,” Adeltaj spoke. “Avatars, and Gods themselves, use divine energy to empower whatever they do.”

“And what’s this… divine energy? Can it be resisted?”

“I don’t know what divine energy is, nobody I know does… the only thing I can think of that’s vaguely similar but still weaker is the energy produced when a soul ignites when some mad soul mage or necromancer tries a suicide attack,” Adeltaj spoke. “As for resisting it? I’ve never heard of a skill which allows one to do that, it would be patently impossible to begin with, and that’s before you somehow found a source of divine energy to train yourself against.”

Orodan ignored the old man’s comments about the impossibility of training a resistance. Adeltaj didn’t know about the time loops here.

“So soul energy like this then?”

And Orodan activated his Mythical skill, and white soul energy began to leak out from his eyes and pores.

“You’ll kill yourself if you do that… just what I needed… a suicidal lout on my doorstep…” Adeltaj muttered to himself. “Such talent too…”

But the seconds turned to a minute, and Orodan’s soul distinctly did not explode. And Adeltaj’s eyes widened.

“Young man… is that a skill? What rarity is that?” he asked quite seriously.

“Mythical. I’ve never heard of the rarity before, but that’s what it says.”

Adeltaj grew silent for a few moments and then spoke.

“Listen… if you didn’t have an Avatar descending down upon you before… you certainly will now… Mythical skills shake the very tapestry of fate itself, and their activation is like a beacon for those who can read it,” Adeltaj spoke, almost in resignation. Orodan could see the slight hint of regret in his eyes at having to tell such a talented person that they would be facing judgement at an Avatar’s hands soon. “The people I know who have Mythical skills, they’re almost all tied to the Gods in some way.”

“I see… then my last question… for I sense I don’t have much longer left. How do I improve my soul energy to be strong enough in quality that it can match divine energy?”

“The only method I know of would be to squeeze and compress soul energy till it essentially becomes denser. But that would be incredibly dangerous and could possibly ignite your soul and kill you.”

Orodan mentally made note of everything his teacher had told him, but unfortunately their conversation was cut short by the sky blazing gold and an incredibly luminous comet descending towards them.

So, it was the activation of the Mythical skill itself that made Ilyatana possess Lady Lakshiya and descend upon him?

The Avatar landed upon the cratered ground and the familiar ruined body of Lady Lakshiya glowed a frightening gold color as the divine energy wracked her body and wreaked havoc upon it.

“Heretic! You kill my faithful and declare yourself an enemy of the divine, and now you dare flaunt a Mythical skill? Which dark power has sent you?” Ilyatana asked. “Rival Gods from the north? From the south?”

“None, you invaded my mind and tried molding my personality. I consider you my enemy,” Orodan spoke, and while the face of the host didn’t change, the Avatar glowed brighter with furious power.

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“I do not recall anything of the sort, vermin. You dare attempt to stand against the Gods? You’ll make a fine experiment as I dissect you.”

Orodan did not like the sound of that, at all. And he was tempted, so very tempted, to call upon the Blessing of Malzim and escape.

But he did not, not yet.

He couldn’t even fight a Grandmaster yet; an Avatar would eradicate him like dust in the wind.

But he couldn’t advance unless he did this.

A part of him, the logical part which had listened to the lectures of Adeltaj Simarji, thought it would be wiser to slowly grow his power, learn, travel the world, unveil secrets and discover hidden techniques which allowed him to better hide from the Goddess of Fate until he was ready to take on an Avatar, and even then in underhanded ways which maybe cut the link between host and Goddess.

But that logical part was not Orodan. Where anyone else would have quailed at the thought of what he was about to attempt, not him.

He was confident in his unbreakable willpower and his ability to retain enough of himself to use Malzim’s Blessing before his mind was overtaken.

“Dissect me? How about you go ahead and try? Show me what some useless Avatar can do,” Orodan boldly challenged, and his own Mythical skill began flaring at extremely high rates. It was utter sacrilege to speak to a Goddess in such a way… but Orodan had died too many times to too many foes to care about adding one more to the list.

“You will come to regret that mortal…”

And as the words boomed, a set of glowing gold restraints wrapped around his limbs.

Orodan now knew that these restraints weren’t magical, powered by mana. These were instead powered by divine energy, and thus his Mana Resistance didn’t help him.

But the utterly rampant soul energy coursing turbulently through his body did.

Even though this was the very first time trying it and Eternal Soul Reactor was only at level 4… it still made a massive difference as the soul energy pouring out of his body began throwing off the divine energy restraints, even if it was by the slightest bit.

Additionally, the usual downside of his body being destroyed as the speed of his soul power generation ramped up, was being counteracted by the divine healing energies of Ilyatana that sought to keep him alive for study.

Orodan found himself screaming through clenched teeth in pain as he ignited his soul even hotter, to an extent that he never had last loop. His body was suffering damage that should have killed him by now if not for a Goddess healing him, and his Mythical skill began to pick up in levels.

He chose not to convert the soul energy to mana and feed it into his Mana Black Hole, but if he did, he instinctually felt that it might be even greater than the mana contained in the orb at Mount Castarian.

The pain was utterly all-consuming, greater than any physical pain he had ever felt before. To the point that Pain Resistance began to level up as time went on.

This was far faster at killing him than Death Rage was, to the point that even the Avatar was now struggling to heal him adequately, and the divine energy restraints were beginning to actually… struggle?

“Filthy thing… such a disgusting Mythical skill, to torture yourself in such a horrific way for the sake of power… congratulations are in order, it seems your frantic cockroach-like struggles have made it unfeasible for me to dissect you without channelling enough of my power to destroy the body of my Favored entirely.”

Orodan would liked to have replied, but he was in far too much blinding pain to care, and even the slightest lapse in concentration now would truly damn him. Eternal Soul Reactor had now reached level 11 and it now produced a total amount of soul energy each second, that if converted to mana, would be more than the entire mana pool of the ancient machine under the mountain.

This amount of power was generated by his soul each second.

There was no way he could ever reach this level of power generation without a Goddess healing him. Orodan’s body should have been utterly disintegrated a million times over already, and even the healing Ilyatana was capable of through her Avatar was starting to show its limits.

“Lakshiya has served me well, even in death her final act of service will be ensuring a cockroach like you is permanently slain. Whichever dark God sent you will not be able to salvage your soul from this.”

And despite the pain he was undergoing, Orodan’s mind snapped to attention at the Goddess’s words as he saw a strange and dangerous looking spear of divine energy materialize in the hands of the Avatar.

Permanently slain? Even if he went back in time, Orodan did not want to risk that kind of damage just yet.

And so, with a titanic act of willpower he maintained his focus and willpower on his Mythical skill while also calling upon the Blessing of Malzim.

***

A keening wail ringing in the night sky awoke him.

His entire world was pain.

For a split second, he saw the walls of his hovel in Ogdenborough.

And then it exploded in a deluge of white light, his own soul energy running rampant.

And now that an Avatar of Ilyatana wasn’t healing him, he died to the soul energy being generated by his own soul a few seconds after.

A keening wail ringing in the night sky awoke him.

And he maintained iron focus and began desperately attempting to convert all the soul energy into mana to feed into Mana Black Hole.

His hovel exploded and he died seconds after once more.

A keening wail ringing in the night sky awoke him.

And this time he began furiously shovelling all the mana he desperately converted into his Mana Black Hole.

At least a hundred deaths occurred before he finally brought things under control.

His Soul Manipulation had made a huge leap to level 46. The constant and furious use of a skill that involved his soul as well as rapidly converting that much soul energy to mana, had done wonders for it.

His Mana Black Hole was at level 64 from the absolutely titanic amount of energy he had furiously kept shoving into its reserve. He had at least hundreds of ancient war machines’ worth of mana pools inside the skill now.

Which should have been a humbling thought, knowing that he held so much utter power within him, even if he couldn’t use it all at once effectively yet.

But right now, Orodan could only let out a trembling and shaky breath of relief.

The experience of igniting his own soul for so long… was truly horrifying.

Pain Resistance had levelled to near Elite, and he felt as though he could finally breathe, for even a single iota of concentration lost and willpower surrendered would have meant his death. And not just a typical death in a time loop, but genuine soul damage if not worse.

Terrifying. True death could genuinely be his fate if he pushed it.

But who was Orodan? The man who fearlessly decided to die fighting in his very first life, even before the time loops.

So what if training this Mythical skill was so utterly dangerous?

His willpower would not falter.

He got to his feet and stepped out of his hovel.

In the distance the night sky blazed gold as the Avatar of Ilyatana made way for him as he’d activated his Mythical skill inside his hovel this loop as well.

He welcomed it, as it was more training opportunities for him.

He decided, starting every single loop by attracting the attention of that wicked Goddess was going to be his new goal until he progressed sufficiently in his Mythical skill.

***

“You’re a wicked Goddess that meddles in the lives of mortals and fears them rising above their station.”

“Blaspheming mortal, I approach you to offer salvation and a chance to ascend into a true champion of mine and you dare utter such words?”

And so, on the loops went.

Orodan was starting to get tired of the cold, emotionless and corpse-like face of Lady Lakshiya when she was possessed by Ilyatana the Goddess of Fate.

The woman might have been a more pleasant person normally, but Orodan could now only associate her face with the arrogant and booming voice of the Goddess who possessed her.

Progress was… surprisingly quick, as by the tenth loop Orodan could genuinely repel the Avatar’s divine bindings which attempted to restrain him. Which caused the host to crackle dangerously with divine energy and begin launching soul damaging spears which Orodan dared not take head on yet, so he reset by that point.

Frankly, Orodan was nowhere near actually fighting an Avatar, or even surviving one. They could flatten him in combat with even their weakest attacks, and it was only by abusing the time loop and the fact that Ilyatana was more intent on studying him and restraining him that he’d made progress at all.

And the progress he’d made was mainly in frustrating her and being able to at least avoid being captured by an Avatar.

But progress he did. And by the fiftieth loop of this madness, he reached a point where the Avatar, upon seeing him and how much soul energy he was emitting, simply decided to immediately send a lethal soul spear his way which forced him to reset before it hit.

Throughout the loops Orodan also tried condensing his soul energy like Adeltaj had suggested, and after a while he got a new skill as a result.

[New Skill (Legendary) → Soul Strengthening 1]

This skill, it was exactly what he was looking for. Something to help improve not merely the quantity of soul energy he produced, but the very quality of it. And perhaps with enough time… he could even rival divine energy in its quality.

With this skill acquired, his goal with the current set of loops was done.

Satisfying as it would be to continue running into the wall that was the Avatar, Orodan wasn’t even sure how to go about fighting it yet. And he ran the risk of taking a hit from the lethal soul spears.

And Orodan simply wasn’t interested in ‘defeating’ the Avatar via trickery or esoteric magic. He would only accept a victory earned through the might of his own arm and soul.

Rather, first he needed to seek out proper tutelage and learn certain skills which would allow him to safely take attacks such as the soul-damaging spear the Avatar threw at him. Furthermore, learning how to obscure or defeat the strange fate based divinations that the diviners of the Cathedral were using to locate him would be of utmost importance as well. If he wanted to engage in the loops without the new headache his Mythical skill brought him, this was the first thing he had to do.

So Orodan decided to bother Adeltaj again.

***

“How to hide from the detection of the Cathedral’s diviners? What sort of maliciousness have you gotten up to, boy?” Adeltaj asked.

In this loop, Orodan had already killed the Cathedral forces sent against him, but he hadn’t yet activated his Mythical skill, and pleasantly enough it gave him way more time to question and talk to Adeltaj as the Avatar didn’t descend upon him.

“Yes… how do these priests immediately seem to know where I am the moment I talk to someone?” Orodan asked in return.

“Well, firstly, divination, particularly the type of divination used by the diviners of the Cathedral of the Prime Five, uses fate-reading as a way to find people,” Adeltaj explained. “Naturally this means any actions which impact other people will affect the threads of fate and the changes can be seen across the entire tapestry if the person is significant enough… for you to catch their attention the moment you talk to anyone at all… you must be more powerful than you look.”

“I see… but how can one avoid this manner of fate reading? How can I prevent the impact of my actions from rippling throughout this ‘tapestry’ of fate? I just want to go about my business without having the hounds of the Cathedral come after me.”

“It’s a really shady set of skills you’re seeking,” Adeltaj remarked with a raised eyebrow. “But it’s not something ever taught in the Republic. The Republic and the Empire follow the same tradition of worshiping the Prime Five. Most of Inuan besides the dwarves and elven enclaves do. So, as you’d expect, the Cathedral actively stamps out any such skill set.”

“But surely, some group, somewhere would know of a skill to obscure the ability to be tracked through the threads of fate?” Orodan asked, his frustration becoming apparent. “What do I have to scour the ends of the north to find such a secret?”

Adeltaj had a strange smile on his face at Orodan’s words.

“Surely… you don’t actually mean to say my best option is to go north and try to learn it from the foul northmen?!” Orodan exclaimed.

“You’re the one who said it, not me,” the old man quipped back. “Where else can you think of that’s outside of the influence of the Prime Five, has its own pantheon of Gods and actively works against the Gods of Inuan? Besides, you’ll find that aside from the raiders, who the Guzuharan locals also consider a plague, people on the northern continent aren’t as evil as you make them out to be.”

“They’re the reason I’m an orphan!” Orodan angrily retorted.

“The raider tribes are the reason you’re an orphan,” Adeltaj clarified. “I do not think all folk on Guzuhar are bloodthirsty. Many of their clans simply wish to get by on a daily basis like we do. They’re victims to the raiders as much as we are.”

It… made perfect sense. Orodan just didn’t want to entertain the thought.

He hated Guzuharans. And by extension he hated Guzuhar, the savage northern continent from whence the raiders came and killed his parents one fateful day, leaving him orphaned early on in life.

What would he even do there? Run across the sea and once he reached the continent simply ask around for the secrets to hiding from fate-based divinations?

Orodan was more likely to spend at least a few hundred loops just committing utter genocide and rampaging through every dirty northman town he could find.

But perhaps… his hatred was too broad, and he needed to open his mind and be fair in his judgement.

Hells, he knew just the Guzuharan who could point him in the direction of good places to look around in the savage continent of Guzuhar.

“You have a rather disturbing smile on your face young man, should I be concerned about what you plan on doing?” Adeltaj asked, and Orodan’s smile only widened.

It was time to challenge the Quest once more.

***

Eversong Plaza was a quiet place right as the loop started.

Before Orodan’s intervention, the first Adept he would habitually kill stood quiet watch on the perimeter. The non-Adept guards would silently man their posts, and Lord Aeglos the Elite-pyromancer would peacefully gaze at the stars alongside the few Adepts who were outside at this time.

Something which was ended as Lord Aeglos was slain in an instant and something moved incredibly swiftly into the tavern, smashing through the doors and ramming into the tunnel system before anyone could react.

Once upon a time this Plaza was his crucible… but against his current level of strength, he could breeze right past it. A part of him desperately wanted to obliterate the entire place, but there were too many uninvolved people within, and Adeltaj’s lecture about his disregard for life hadn’t been wrong.

A frenzied Orodan blasted right through the tunnels.

His passage through the tunnels was incredibly swift, and eventually it came to a brief pause as a wide-eyed Master Fausta, the necromancer whose undead pet eviscerated him thousands of times in the past, intercepted him.

Five exchanges lasting less than a tenth of a second later, all of her undead minions were killed before she even had the chance to empower them via necromantic tether. The undead Demonic Berserker which was once so strong to him… was now no more than wheat before a scythe to the current Orodan who could beat living Master-level warriors stronger than Ovuru.

Master Fausta subsequently had her entire mana pool drained and her head torn off shortly after.

Orodan’s absolutely furious sprint through the tunnels continued as every single Novarrian in his way was smashed aside before they could move to impede him.

And finally, he reached the gated chamber preceding the main control chamber, and it was lacking guards. Orodan heard the sounds of fighting still erupting from inside, so he rushed forward and blasted the massive metallic gates leading into the chamber off their hinges with a single kick.

Inside, a battle was ongoing.

Ovuru World-Drinker was clashing against a Master-level unarmed fighter who looked to be struggling, and the Novarrian who Ovuru feared was working alongside Baron Viglas Argon to team up against a scythe wielding Master who was barely holding on.

The arrival of Orodan which sent the gates flying inward, made both parties pause.

“Who the hells are you?” asked the Novarrian Master coldly as he renewed his furious assault on the scythe wielding Republic Master, and he silently bade Baron Viglas Argon to deal with Orodan. “Be careful Viglas, he must have dealt with Fausta, the scrying eyes on the surface caught very little movement.”

Baron Viglas Argon… head of noble House Argon, the one noble house Orodan utterly despised. The man was known as a cold, ruthless and conniving bastard. And from what Orodan remembered of the last time he was here; the man had no strong emotional reaction to the fact that Orodan had killed his son Lord Aeglos Argon.

The man was a slimy tactician, but unfortunately for him didn’t know about Orodan’s Mana Resistance in this loop.

Something which caused the man’s eyes to nearly bulge out of his face as Orodan simply ran right through two of the strongest fire spells he had ever cast. He attempted to flee but found his feet unmoving. He tried to evade, but found his body frozen.

The Blessing of Agathor that forced enemies to challenge him head-on must have been a terrifying prospect for his more cowardly foes to face.

Baron Viglas Argon was splattered onto the stone walls of the main control chamber, and the tide of the battle had turned.

“Quick! Heroic stranger! Assist me in fighting Duke Arestos! He’s the strongest foe here!” the scythe wielding Master who looked to be on his last legs exclaimed.

For his part Orodan quickly complied as getting this over with quickly was part of his plan for the loop.

Orodan joined in on the battle as the scythe wielding Master hung back for a few moments to recover, and during those few moments Orodan and the Novarrian Master he now knew as Duke Arestos… began to clash one on one.

Prior to this, the Novarrian was undoubtedly the strongest Master he had seen. In fact, till now Duke Arestos likely ranked among the top two, between him and the High-Burgher Sarvaan Ilsuan Arslan, the outcome would be unclear.

But what was clear… was that Orodan held the advantage in melee.

Both of them used sword and shield, and while Duke Arestos’s skill levels were undoubtedly higher. Orodan’s absolute plethora of other empowering and amplification skills alongside his active combat skills that had reached the Adept-level… truly made the difference.

Duke Arestos’s face went red, and his eyes held a crazed desperation and anger at suddenly being pressed backwards and overwhelmed in melee by such a young-looking man who used the sword and shield just as he did.

“I ask again… who the hells are you?! A reincarnator? A Grandmaster playing games? Once my master hears of this, you’ll rue the day you dared interfere!” Duke Arestos viciously spat as he wretchedly fought to survive.

What should have been Duke Arestos’s day of victory, was instead turning into his doomsday.

“Wait… I surrender… you can have the machine… just let me live!” Duke Arestos finally begged as Orodan had him pressured.

Unfortunately for him, his only reply was the All-Strike sent towards his face.

Seeing himself now outnumbered three-to-one, Ovuru World-Drinker snarled and brandished his axe once more amid a pause in the fight between him and the other Republican Master. “Excellent! I shall die a warrior’s death today! Agorhiku watch me and witness my glory!”

The ogre-man screamed in a crazed manner and charged right at Orodan.

But the difference by now was too apparent. Orodan killed a far stronger Master-level opponent in Duke Arestos… so to fight Ovuru? The outcome was never in question.

A furious beating ensued, and the sight of the physically smaller Orodan utterly thrashing the far larger Ovuru must have seemed comical, but it was anything but funny for the Warchief of Tribe Leviathan. With a final unarmed Power Strike to the head, Ovuru World-Drinker was beaten unconscious.

“Leave him alive, I have need for him,” Orodan ordered as he strode towards the unmanned orb.

“Wait… what are you doing? We’ve been working on acquiring this machine for a very long time!” the scythe wielding Master shouted.

In response Orodan had three words.

“Fuck this machine.”

The glowing red orb was drained. It turned to a pitch black as it was drained of every iota of mana it previously had.

Mana Black Hole was far higher in level than it ever had been the last time he drained the orb and having such a low amount of mana siphoned into the reserve of the skill was almost unsatisfying.

“You… this! Who are you?!” asked the unarmed Republican Master. “I thank you for saving our lives from the situation that dirty traitor put us in, but you’ve set back two-hundred years of preparation! Now the orb will take another two-hundred years to recharge once more!”

Orodan tuned out the two blithering Masters. They were no threat to him even at full power, and they were both wounded now. They knew it too, and so they made no true threats either.

Instead, Orodan focused on the message that popped up before him.

[Quest Completed → Battle of Ogdenborough - Guzuharan leader defeated, Novarrian leader killed, Republic traitor killed, ancient war machine disabled]

[Reward Granted → Permanent +1 Action Increase]

Orodan had an inkling of suspicion about the Quest Reward being repeatable, but for it to actually happen… how unfair!

But as he tried testing out his new triple action ability via three Power Strikes let loose into the air which dangerously carved deadly trenches into the stone walls with purely the air pressure of the blows… Orodan realized there was a balancing act.

His very soul felt quite exerted at using a triple action in the same instant of time.

The Quest Reward, it seemed, took up space within his soul and exerted it upon use.

It had been too much to hope he could’ve simply farmed the same Quest repeatedly without fail.

Using three actions in the same instant seemed to push his soul to its current limits for now. But still, there was a glimmer of hope. He intuitively felt that increasing the quality of his soul energy would allow him to use further actions in the same instant down the line.

But for now, this second Permanent Action Increase would have to suffice.

The two Republican Masters were rightfully intimidated by him at this point, and stepped out of the way as Orodan approached the unconscious Ovuru.

A few slaps later, the ogre-man woke up.

“I have some questions about your homeland.”