Unlike before, the gaining of the paths felt less like a loss of something and then strengthening but much more akin to a reinforcement of the main Skill itself, the derivative paths acting as a strong foundation for it to grow off of. Putting my sword back into the rucksack, I began to take out some of the other tools I had found. Though I had been tossed around a lot by the demon, most of my things had remained inside of the bag, meaning I had the basic equipment to make camp. As I began work on a fire next to the pond, I received a familiar adaptation offer for a fire-starting Skill which I quickly accepted, pushing through the sense of loss and then immediately utilising it to great effect. I quickly swapped out the tinder I was using out for a drier one I had, realising that it was a bit damp from handling it with slightly wet hands after filling up my canteen when I had drank it all. Moving quickly, I blew into the rapidly growing flickers of embers and finally had a semblance of a fire ready, finishing the process by constructing a makeshift firepit.

[]

The sky had turned almost completely dark by the time I was done, glimpses of stars becoming visible through the treeline as the oranges of sunset retreated into purple hues at the edges of what I could see. For the first time in what felt like years, I had time to rest, laying back onto the ground and just letting myself be, taking in all that had happened today.

"..."

Silence descended onto the forest, all but the crackling of the fire, rustling of birds and the croaking of the odd toad hanging around being snuffed out.

"..."

Night arrived quickly after I had started resting, only the light from the fire keeping me company, as I half heartedly munched on my rations.

"..."

The cold of the night wasn't too bad but it was growing, the current lack of protection noticeable.

"...Fuck."

Getting up and slipping myself into an unwrapped sleeping bag, I allowed my eyelids to close, blanking out the horrible surroundings around me. My deafness was still an issue, so I didn't allow myself to go to sleep fully just yet, opening my eyes every now and again to glimpse about; I had never found out where the demon had gone when it tried to kill me after all.

Still unnerved but satisfied that nothing was going to ambush me as soon as I went to sleep, I got up and put out the fire before taking one last swig of the canteen and going to sleep, snug in the thick cover of the sleeping bag. My last thoughts before completely drifting off weren't of my unfortunate situation, rather of the Saviours. The Saviours who were probably back in the suffocating grasp of the royal guard, telling them all that I was dead, happy that their betrayal had succeeded; because that's what it was in the end. It was a betrayal. And while they could be carefree I had to suffer. It was all their fault. Not mine. All. Because. Of. THEM.

When morning broke, my sleep was disturbed almost instantly, trained to wake up at sunrise each day back in Aldfield for my morning runs. Strangely, I felt more vitalised than usual after a good nights rest, as if something else had recovered in me. Something else that was confirmed as soon as I opened my status.

[]

[]

  Name: Thanren of Aldfield

  Pure Sin: Envy

  Alignment: 100%

  Body: Slightly Damaged

    Stamina: 3/3

  Mind: Normal Condition

    Mana: 0/0

  Soul: Severely Disrupted

    Will: 6/6

  Skills: Entries Revealed

    Adapted:

      First Aid: Rk.0/Lv.4

      Fire-Starting: Rk.0/Lv.2

      Resilience: Rk.0/Lv.2

      Swordsmanship: Rk.0/Lv.1

        Path of The Gentle End: Lv.1

        Path of Endless Suffering: Lv.1

    Monarch:

      Envy: Lv.1

[]

My Resources had recovered and my total Will pool had increased. This... did this mean that I could increase my Mana eventually too? Or was the 0/0 uncurable? Only time could tell though, and I had more pressing matters to worry about at the moment. Testing something I had only briefly thought about the night before on the grass, I focused on the 'Entries Revealed' part of my status and tried to minimise the list, as it had taken up quite a large portion of the status box currently. Following my wishes, and without a command, the text changed to 'Entries Collapsed' and the Skills were hidden. Getting out of the sleeping bag and doing some stretches, I couldn't help but allow a grin to grow on my face. If the Resources regenerating was anything indicative of the day ahead, then I had a lot to look forward to.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

* * *

"He's dead." King Jerrick announced, a resigned gloom casting shade over his usually stern face.

Unlike the usually flowery speech of nobility, this was anything but embellished. A simple proclamation, without any room for disagreement. A sad, sad proclamation that was allowed to echo around the large chambers of the king's personal office, undisturbed even by the muted indignation of the Saviours standing in the middle of it. Dead.

"C-can't he be revived?" Sebas pleaded, shock breaking any semblance of the mask he used to hide his sorrow and tiredness. It had been a long trip without rest after the Saviours managed to flee from the demon, meeting up with the royal guard on the road. After that, it was a bleak run back to the capital in order to get them the necessary healers, forsaking the usual tradition used to inaugurate the Saviours properly. And it had all culminated into this; all the sleepiness nights spent worrying over the fate of Ren, all the hope the prodigies might have had left in them, crushed into nothing.

Sebas barely registered the guilty sobs from Aquila, or the unbridled anger from Bren, numb to it all. They both knew what they had done. Even if it was Ren who had spurned them into escape, it was their choice to stay and fight or run like a coward. They chose to run, ignoring Sebas' own wishes to rescue their friend, forcing him to join them. Sebas couldn't have helped but wonder what would've happened if he had stayed. Would he have died too, fighting a battle impossible to win? Or would Thanren be standing here, next to them, not in a too light, over decorated office, but on the ceremony podium in the grand cathedral, awarded for his valiant effort in helping the Saviours as their chaperone?

"There... there wasn't much left of him to revive, Sebas," Fian, the king's advisor and the High Priest who taught Sebas, said softly, sympathy clear on her face, "If the dragon didn't lurk around as much as it did, we may have been able to get there in time. Our divinations identified where he was quickly, but... you know how it is."

"Dragon?" Bren spat, knuckles going white from clenching his fists so hard.

"From history books, we believe the type of demon you fought was known as a dragon. If your descriptions are accurate-"

"They are." Bren interrupted, looking straight down at the floor. The High Priest took it in her stride though and continued.

"-Then it may have even been a dragon prince you fought. Dragons are the pinnacle of the demon species and the king of the demons is typically either a dragon or wyrmling of sorts; a wyrmling being a lesser offspring of a dragon."

"Why was the demon even there in the first place?" Aquila asked, wiping the tears from her eyes and looking the king directly in the face.

"We... we don't know. The seal on the mountains could've been broken or maybe it was just a single demon who got through, which happens from time to time. It was just... unfortunate that the dragon encountered you all." King Jerrick responded, clearly trying to be as diplomatic as possible, enunciating each word carefully and slowly.

It would be unlikely that the other two Saviours would see through the king, too rapt up in their grief and anger to think clearly, just wanting something to project their hate towards. Sebas noticed it though. King Jerrick was desperately trying to steer the blame away from himself and towards the demons. Usually, in an unexpected scenario like this one, the king wouldn't have been too worried about something like that, focusing his attention on the demon threat and allowing the Saviours to join the fight themselves. No, this was too calm, too calculated, even for a politically savvy and cunning person like the king. Just like what Ren was thinking about the night before he... passed, the demons had likely escaped way before then. And now the king was using their friends' death as a way to portray him as the benevolent lord he supposedly was, supporting the Saviours in their time of mourning and helping them in the fight against the demons.

Though King Jerrick hadn't caused Ren's death, he certainly was using it. What was most saddening to Sebas however was that he knew he would've done the same thing in the king's situation. With the threat of the demons now imminent, they shouldn't be focusing on petty squabbles and instead direct their attention to the true fight at hand. So, all Sebas could do was hold it out, bottle the anger and depression inside, and do exactly what the king had manoeuvred to do; channel his hate to fight the demons.

* * *

In one moment, the world was as it was; made of matter and rumbling with life. In another, it all fell away, leaving... nothing. A nothingness that wasn't nothing at all. If anything, the nothing was closer to an everything, all that had ever existed combining and interfering to form the white empty space of it and its splendour. To the unprepared mind, their sanity would melt upon trying to interpret nothing and everything all at once, but to two individuals, this was home.

≡Was the intervention successful?≡

-It... It was not.-

≡Even with my Authority backing it?≡

-Even with it, it still buckled under the pressure of the Monarchy System.-

≡Thank you, Acolyte. You may go.≡

-I shall take my leave then.-

One of the individuals left the nothingness, becoming one with the white space, returning to where everything began. Then, as the remaining person sighed, a newcomer arrived, forming themselves out of the white, becoming something out of nothing. One moment they didn't exist and the other they simply were. For they were more than just an interruption of the space like the one before them, rather they were the white space's equal. They were.

≡Nothing works anymore against it, I... I'm tempted to give up.≡

=You will do no such thing father, and we both know that. We're just encountering more difficulties than expected with regards to the boy.=

≡So we just let it take him? And hope he somehow breaks free, just like how we still hope that the others will do the same?≡

=He hasn't reached Autonomy father. We could always interfere- =

≡No. We can never do that, ever! Too high of a chance to alter him too.≡

=Then what? Hope that the Seat of Envy goes rogue again? You know that the system will be more cautious this time and crush any sign of rebellion instantly.=

≡Interfering with his Records can't be the only thing we can do though. It just can't.≡

=...what about digging up his Records instead?=

≡That... that could work. It would take a while to look for them and have them reintegrate into the prime plane but it could rouse an Imprint in the system.≡

=The only downside is that it would take a while. A long while.=

≡I know. It's all we have left though. Get it done.≡

=As you will, father.=

Equalising and returning to nothing, the father was left alone once more. No... they were not alone. To call them alone would be like calling the universe lonely for being the only one like it that existed; no, this wasn't loneliness. It was longing. A deep, terrible longing that shook the very nothingness to its core, disrupting the beautiful white of everything. After all, this wasn't just the space's equal. Rather, it was the space itself. Identical in almost every way, in all but emotion. Space needn't feel, but he has decided that it should.

≡It might be possible now, sister. If this works... we can finally get our revenge.≡

With one last resigned shudder of the white space, nothing became itself again, everything finally at rest. To call the father absent from the space would be a bit of a misnomer, after all, he was the space. And nothing never ceases being.