Scott slowly emerged from his contemplative state, his gaze once again shifting toward the system panel. Without hesitation, he clicked [Yes], and a new notification appeared:
Fusion will now commence! Estimated Fusion time: 2 days!
“Two days, huh?” Scott muttered softly.
He wasn't sure whether that was long or short, but he understood that fusion among different classes was bound to be difficult, if not impossible. Still, he was curious to see what class would emerge from the merger of all three classes.
Scott lowered his gaze, noticing the pesky tendrils had silently retreated while his thoughts wandered. Placing the fusion at the back of his mind, he turned toward the nearby champions, focusing on a unique race with specter-like features. A strange but pleasant cry echoed as the creatures phased in and out of tangibility.
Scott's attention then shifted to another group, one comprised of champions in thick, black leather armor that covered their entire bodies. Their heads were concealed by large, metallic triangular masks with odd slits crisscrossing the surface.
He averted his gaze but quickly refocused on the group, a hint of surprise on his face. He noted their sponsor.
Sponsor: God of Slaughter—partial!
What does a partial sponsorship even mean? Scott pondered for a moment before shaking off the thought. He approached the group with slow, deliberate steps. The masked champions, who had been observing nearby competitors, noticed the solitary figure approaching but remained silent, assuming Scott was heading elsewhere.
As seconds passed, it became clear that Scott was indeed approaching them. The champions watched silently as he closed the distance.
A moment later, Scott stopped a few paces away from the group. “Can you communicate with the God of Slaughter?” he asked matter-of-factly.
“Who are you to ask about…” the champion suddenly paused as a system notification manifested in front of him.
At that same moment, a system notification appeared in front of Scott.
The Administrator has granted the God of Slaughter permission to send messages for three minutes! The God of Slaughter asks you to hand over Mema’s Totem!
Wordlessly, Scott retrieved the item from his inventory, tossing it to the masked champion who had spoken earlier. The champion instantly sent the item into his inventory as soon as it left Scott’s hands, and another system notification manifested in front of the eldritch being.
The God of Slaughter conveys their thanks! The God of Slaughter has granted you unfettered access to all their sanctuaries!
As soon as the system message appeared, a golden radiance descended from the clear skies, enveloping Scott in its warmth. Before anyone could comprehend what was happening, the eldritch being disappeared from the grass field.
In a flash, Scott reappeared in an unfamiliar space. Reddened skies blighted the heavens, and mournful screams and explosions competed amidst howling winds and thunder. He stood at the periphery of a gigantic battlefield teeming with all manner of creatures. Instantly, the eldritch being recalled his experience in the theater, but unlike the theater, no one died. From his vantage point, he felt like he was staring into an everlasting slaughterhouse where champions only had carnage within their hearts.
Scott watched the carnage for a moment, noticing he couldn’t glean any information via Hastur’s gaze. Suddenly, he turned around, and an average-height woman with flowing brown hair stood there with a thin smile. Her iridescent eyes radiated a spine-chilling bloodlust. She wore a black trench coat buttoned up to her neck, and her hands were covered with equally blackened gloves.
“You are?” Scott asked, unfazed by the lady’s sudden appearance.
“Welcome to Viva. Please follow me, I have been briefed about your arrival,” the lady said, still maintaining her thin smile as she sized up the eldritch knight.
Scott looked beyond the woman, but only an expanse of dry land covered in red dust lingered. Behind them, within the valley, was the seemingly unending battlefield. He couldn’t help but wonder where the woman had come from.
The woman turned around again, her calm voice echoing once more. “Follow me.”
She took two steps forward, then paused. She raised her right leg before lowering it. However, her boots didn’t fall on the reddened ground; instead, they hovered on an invisible step. Silently, she ascended the steps without turning. Scott followed her, neither sharing a word nor looking behind them.
Silently, the duo ascended the unseen stairs, climbing higher and higher towards the reddened skies. Moments later, they pierced through the fluffy yet ominous clouds, and the scenery changed once more. This time, a massive city unfolded before them.
Scott’s eyes lingered on the starry expanse above the city, reminiscent of the vast horizon he had seen in Carcosa. He lowered his gaze, noticing that the woman had already marched forward noiselessly. Scott took a step, and the world around him shifted a second time. The massive city vanished, replaced by an unfamiliar room larger than any he had ever seen, and he wasn’t alone.
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The straightforward woman had disappeared, but three other individuals stood in her place. Shock, surprise, and curiosity marked their expressions.
Welcome to Viva! You are free to access all areas, except those reserved for lesser god candidates! You will enjoy the same benefits as all sponsored candidates for as long as you remain! You are free to challenge anyone within Viva on par with a sponsored candidate or lower! You will only be able to contend with candidates above the sponsored level if they allow it! You’re free to leave whenever you please!
Scott quickly glanced through the system’s messages. However, his attention remained on the unfamiliar group. Even without Hastur’s gaze active, he could sense the trio commanded tremendous power.
None of the trio were human or humanoid. The largest and closest to Scott was a creature composed entirely of wood, manifesting in a hulking form. Burning fluorescents served as its eyes while vines and creeping plants slithered across its body.
The champion next to it was enshrouded in flowing mud that bubbled yet stained nothing around it. The third and smallest among the trio levitated in midair, tiny wings extending from a serpentine form devoid of a face.
The longer Scott stared at the serpentine creature, the more its form became refined and beautiful. He narrowed his gaze, stunned by the strange bewitching effect.
Another system notification appeared, this time in front of the trio. A moment later, they focused on Scott, and the tree-like creature spoke, its voice surprisingly clear and soothing. “So, you’re a guest, huh? We don’t have many of those,” he said.
“I’m Tondan, a Trisos,” he continued, pointing at the mud creature. “That’s Foogbs, a Mud Dweller.” Then it pointed at the flying serpent. “That’s Aurbenine, a Wilowick. Don’t stare at her too much, unless you want to become her slave or something,” the Trisos advised.
All three champions focused on Scott once more, and Tondan spoke again, “Pardon me for asking. What exactly are you?”
“He looks human, but he doesn’t have the usual attributes of one,” Foogbs muttered, a strange, muffled echo accompanying his voice.
Aurbenine flew closer to Scott, the Wilowick hovering near the eldritch being as if observing him. Scott stared at the unusual creature despite the previous warning. The more he stared, the more mesmerizing the creature became, transforming into an enchanting beauty. Soon, an enthralling voice filled the ears of the eldritch being, “Come,” it said.
Although only a word was spoken, it sounded as if hundreds, if not thousands, of voices had uttered the singular word. However, Scott remained motionless, his soulless gaze fixed on the Wilowick.
“Come,” the voice urged again, as the creature flew even closer to the eldritch knight.
Scott impassively averted his gaze, turning toward Tondan. “You can call me Scott, and I’m a hybrid of several races. Who are you exactly?” he asked.
Tondan and Foogbs both turned toward Aurbenine, shock evident in their expressions. Their gazes alternated between Scott and the levitating Wilowick. Soon, Tondan chuckled as he stood up, his impressive height on full display.
He took a step forward. “We are sponsored candidates of the God of Slaughter,” he declared, stopping a few feet from Scott. “Do you have a sponsor?” Tondan suddenly asked.
Scott shook his head, and Tondan laughed harder, the sound akin to grinding wood.
“Would you like to join the God of Slaughter?” Tondan asked.
“Don’t be rude to our guest,” Foogbs suddenly chided. “While we do have the authority to recruit new candidates, something tells me Scott here isn’t interested.”
The Mud Dweller turned to Scott. “Am I wrong?”
“You aren’t. I do appreciate the invite, though,” Scott replied calmly.
Tondan, however, ignored Scott’s words and continued, “Don’t be so quick to reject us. There are many benefits to being sponsored by the God of Slaughter. Which floor are you currently on?” he asked, his excitement palpable.
“I’m not sure, but I’m currently undergoing the trials in Thisos’ Labyrinth,” Scott declared.
Instantly, silence descended upon the room. The silence lasted only a moment before Foogbs spoke up, “I don’t have fond memories of that place,” he said.
“Same here,” Tondan agreed with a nod. “Thisos is one of the oldest lesser gods around, and that labyrinth is his crown jewel. That sadistic maniac has been refining it longer than any of us have been in existence, and it only gets worse the further you climb.” Tondan sighed softly, several of its vines trembling in response.
The Trisos prepared to speak again, but Aurbenine’s voice echoed first. “Why aren’t you affected?” she asked, flying closer to Scott.
Tondan and Foogbs both shuddered, and the Trisos roared, “Aurbenine, stay back! There will be serious repercussions if you touch a guest!” Tondan warned, but his words fell on deaf ears.
Aurbenine flew a few feet away front of Scott, and from the perspective of the eldritch being, he stared at the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. How he remained composed and somewhat indifferent to such a once-in-a-lifetime beauty was beyond him.
The fair-skinned beauty stretched her hand, intending to caress Scott’s neck, but the eldritch being took a step back and his indifferent voice followed. “I don’t know what you want, but if you seek to harm me, I won’t hesitate to erase your existence.”
Once again, silence filled the room, shock evident on the faces of the champions. Aurbenine inched even closer to Scott, but not close enough for the eldritch being to consider her a threat. “Now I understand why it didn’t work. You’re a being that has once been stripped of its desires,” she said, before flying back to her original position.
Tondan exchanged glances with Foogbs, both seemingly relieved that the Wilowick retreated on her own accord. Foogbs also retreated, but Tondan, determined to convince Scott, remained as he posed another question.
“Which layer have you gotten to in Thisos’ Labyrinth?” the champion asked. “It’s undeniably different from my time back then, but I might be able to give you some clues.”
“That he’s here must mean he is either in the third, thirteenth, or twenty-third layers,” Foogbs commented from the side.
Scott’s frown deepened. The thought of traversing twenty more layers, or even more, was not something he relished.
He opened his mouth to speak, but Aurenine cut him off. “Even if the labyrinth has changed, there’s always one constant. Your party simply needs to find the hidden layer and defeat that creature. If you win, you’ll escape the labyrinth.”
“You make it sound like killing that creature is easy,” Tondan said softly, then turned to Scott. “There is indeed a hidden path, but I wouldn’t advise seeking it unless you have at least four members proficient in rule of absolute or domains. Be prepared to experience death more than a million times. Unlike the ranking games, the pain you feel while fighting that creature won’t be forgotten with each death. Instead, it will accumulate. Your only solace, if you can call it that, is that your death won’t be final.”
Foogbs sighed softly. “That’s a long-winded way of saying you need the toughest people with the strongest wills.”
“Thank you for the warning,” Scott said, his sincerity evident in his voice. “What floor are you currently on?” he asked.
“Like most other sponsored candidates, we’re close to the point of no return,” Tondan replied. “It’s not something I’m relishing to be honest.”