“You,” one goblin sneered, pointing its scepter directly at Scott, cackling as its ominous eyes locked onto the voidweaver. “I don’t like—”
“We’re not doing this again, you damn parasite,” Scott cut in, gripping his war hammer tighter.
“Again?” several goblins echoed in unison, their heads tilting in eerie synchronization. “You’ve met other versions of us?” they chorused, their squeaky voices blending into a sinister harmony.
Scott didn’t respond, only quickening his pace until he broke into a sprint, his gaze fixed on a lone goblin in his path.
“No emotions, invulnerability to our control. We don’t like you!” The goblins raised a collective shriek, and all but one charged toward Scott, brandishing their scepters with frenzied abandon.
In a flash, Scott reached a cluster of the goblins, the Mad God’s war hammer spinning in his grip. With one powerful swing, he brought it down on a goblin’s skull, its tiny head erupting upon impact. Scott’s movements blurred as he tore through the horde, the hammer striking with precision and deadly efficiency. Each swing sent a spray of blood into the air, and goblin corpses collapsed one after another, lifeless upon the ground.
In less than a minute, Scott had decimated a significant portion of the goblin swarm. Yet, like all the Hurly variants he had encountered, the creatures showed no fear. They rushed at him with reckless resolve, swinging their scepters wildly, sacrificing themselves to halt his momentum. But each attempted ambush was shattered by the thunderous impact of his war hammer, obliterating their efforts.
Soon, the battlefield lay strewn with goblin corpses, and Scott’s gaze settled on the last remaining goblin, the only one who hadn’t joined the charge. Scott approached with steady, deliberate steps, eyes fixed on the lone goblin’s smug smile. He was nearly within reach when, suddenly, a volley of arrows struck the ground where he would have stepped next.
Scott turned, noticing archers with arrows drawn, their aim squarely on him. Behind them stood champions wielding spears and an array of weapons. Across from them, where the Brotherhood of the Cross had stood, the members were now on their feet, all focused on Scott, their worship of the cross abruptly abandoned.
Scott’s brow furrowed slightly as he took in the eerie yellow glow in all their eyes—empty of any hint of emotion. This is going to be tough, he thought. From a distance, the distinctive sound of gatling gunfire and lasers rang out. Orion seems to be managing, he noted.
Scott tightened his grip on the war hammer and took another step forward. Just then, the massive abomination that had been under relentless attack unleashed a piercing howl and began to spin. Instantly, the surrounding champions—everyone but the single goblin—followed suit, caught in its darkly hypnotic influence.
The goblin turned to the spinning monstrosity, a flicker of shock breaking its smug demeanor as it watched the other champions. But nothing happened to it, leaving the goblin visibly puzzled.
The champions entangled by the creature’s unnatural pull spun faster and faster, their bodies and minds completely overtaken. Blood poured from their eyes, intensifying the eerie yellow glow of their pupils. Their movements created a howling whirlwind of blood-soaked air. Then, as one, the champions’ eyes burst, bloody remnants spilling down their faces as they mimicked the creature’s every movement. Their combined frenzy produced a horrific gale, thick with the stench of blood.
Abruptly, the creature halted, and in perfect, dreadful harmony, the champions followed, the battlefield sinking into a tense, deathly silence.
A series of cracks and detonations followed, as numerous champions erupted into flesh and blood, while others shattered into chunks too small to measure. Yet, a significant number remained unharmed, unleashing soul-churning roars as their forms split and withered simultaneously.
The towering abomination clutched its arms, bellowing as the bodies of the remaining champions disintegrated into dust.
The goblin, who had witnessed the terrifying ordeal in real time, gaped in disbelief. Everything had happened so quickly. That the abomination had seized control over the champions, despite their minds and emotions already being dominated, was beyond comprehension.
“I told your variant. Every version of you that comes after me will die. There’s no escaping it!” Scott’s voice echoed behind the goblin, and before it could turn, its head exploded in a gory mess. Its lifeless corpse slumped to the ground.
You have slain numerous champions! You are close to attaining a placement on the Territorial Ranking!
Scott raised an eyebrow at the new system notification as the nihilistic darkness spiraled across the battlefield once more, consuming the scattered corpses. Distortions flickered as eldritch abominations poured forth en masse. The Chains of the Abyss uncoiled, extending into the portals, resuming their deadly reach. In the background, the gas-spewing monstrosity exuded vapors that claimed the lives of nearby champions, forcing the rest to steer clear of its deadly aura. Meanwhile, the one-eyed triangular entity moved forward, the chains around it loosening to accommodate its charge. Though it staggered, each step sent subtle vibrations across the battlefield, halting any champion who met its gaze and setting them to spin as blood poured from their eyes.
You have slain numerous champions! You are close to attaining a placement on the Territorial Ranking!
Scott ignored the notification and the stationary and advancing abominations—both were busy culling the champions from the area. Instead, his attention fixed on the other portals, curious about what new horrors they might release.
“Scott, just checking, those things are yours, right?” Orion’s voice broke over a private channel.
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“Which ones?”
“The gas-spewing tentacles, the leviathan forcing others to spin, and… the one with the giant golden urn on its head,” Orion clarified.
Scott’s brows furrowed as he scanned the field but couldn’t spot anything fitting the last description. “Only the first two. The last one isn’t mine.”
“Oh. So, I can handle it however I want, then?”
“Knock yourself out,” Scott replied, and they both disconnected from the channel.
Scott returned his focus to the portals, particularly the chains that had tensed, pulling in whatever abominations they had snared. Is it strange that I’m excited? Scott thought, shaking his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the cross the now-deceased champions had struggled to lift earlier. The surrounding darkness churned at its edge, unable to approach, corrupt, or consume it.
Scott’s gaze narrowed, and he approached the cross in slow, deliberate steps, ignoring the notifications that continued to appear with each step. He stopped a few paces away, eyeing the massive but seemingly ordinary wooden cross. He opened a portal, summoning several eldritch beings. At his silent command, they charged the cross with an echoing roar. However, as soon as they reached the darkness's edge, an oppressive force descended, reducing them to pools of blood the darkness greedily absorbed.
Is this the same ability as that guy who was kicked off the Territorial Ranking? Scott’s frown deepened, and he took a bold step forward, commanding the Chains of the Abyss to wrap around the cross. The flaming chains snaked toward it, crossing the point where his summons had fallen, unscathed. Yet, as they advanced, the chains’ flames began to dim, gradually extinguishing as they neared the cross. By the time they reached it, the chains shimmered pure silver, devoid of the usual blackened tendrils or sinister flames.
They coiled around the cross, pulling at it with relentless force. Yet the cross remained unyielding.
Scott scowled. Unlike Orion, mysteries and unknown forces had always grated on his nerves.
Scott continued his approach, narrowing the distance between himself and the cross until he reached the edge where the shadows fell away. Suddenly, a new system notification appeared.
The Nameless One is now watching you!
Scott halted; his gaze fixed on the ominous, blackened message.
The Nameless One advises you to stay clear of that cross if you wish to retain the last semblance of your being!
Scott’s attention shifted back to the cross, his mind racing with questions he couldn’t yet answer. He focused on the chains coiled around it and tried to call them back, but they remained tightly wound upon the towering relic.
The Nameless One has stopped watching you!
With a scowl, Scott advanced and struck at the exact point where the chain had lost its flames. The chain hissed, splitting cleanly. One end slithered back into the darkness, while the other clung to the cross, its silver gleam contrasting starkly with the plain wood.
Though only a small section of the chain remained wrapped around the cross, Scott couldn’t shake the unease lingering in his mind. He looked away from the cross and returned to his original position, his instincts telling him there were limits even to his own powers.
You have slain numerous champions! You are approaching the 2000th rank on the Territorial Ranking!
Scott eyed the new notification thoughtfully. No wonder ranking is so difficult. If the 2000th spot is the lowest and there are over a billion champions here... just how many have I killed? He couldn’t answer, nor did he feel any remorse.
“Orion, I’m close to the 2000th rank. What about you?”
Orion’s playful laugh echoed over the private channel. “Nowhere near that, sadly. I’ve been collecting samples. You wouldn’t believe it, but the giant with the urn on its head is a shapeshifting aquatic species. My clones are currently handling a horde of undead.”
“Thought we were supposed to be taking this seriously?” Scott replied.
“I am! You’re just slightly more, shall we say, efficient,” Orion chuckled. “Let me know if anything interesting happens.”
“Actually, I do have a question—what do you know about the Brotherhood of the Cross?” Scott turned to face the towering symbol as he awaited Orion’s response.
“A lot, actually. They’re the closest thing to a religious sect that I’ve encountered in the tower. Beyond their structure and the strength of their followers, here’s what you need to know: no matter what, do not approach the cross their members worship. Ever. I’ve lost more clones to it than I can count—and the unsettling part is, I lost parts of my mind, as if they were just... erased.”
“Erased?” Scott repeated.
“Completely,” Orion confirmed, his tone serious.
“What happened to the clones?”
“They just stood there, staring at the cross as though it was all that mattered.”
Silence settled over the channel until Scott broke it again. “Don’t waste too much time on gathering data. Remember the primary objective.”
“Aye aye, captain.”
They left the private channel, and Scott turned his attention back to the eldritch beings he had summoned. The one-eyed abomination continued wreaking havoc across the battlefield, while the gas-spewing tentacles extended further into the chaos. Scott took a step forward, expanding his nihilistic zone as new portals emerged, releasing hordes of eldritch creatures that charged toward the distant champions.
You have found the Tower Trader!
Scott paused, scanning his surroundings, but saw no sign of the cloaked merchant. He checked both sides quickly before turning back to the cross—only to see the Tower Trader standing within arm’s reach of it.
“You’ve changed a lot since our last meeting, my friend,” a familiar voice chimed from behind, and Scott instinctively turned. The cloaked figure stood before him, as if he’d appeared out of thin air.
“What are you doing here?” Scott asked after a pause.
“Is there a reason I can’t be here?” the Trader teased, chuckling softly.
“That’s not what I meant,” Scott replied curtly.
“I know, I know. Just having a bit of fun. Truthfully, I’m not here for you, specifically. I came for the cross. And before you ask, yes, why is a trade secret.”
Scott frowned; his gaze fixed on the cloaked figure. He was about to press for more information when the Trader interrupted.
“Ah, I see you’ve earned the right to the throne. Between us, you’re my favorite candidate. Good luck. You’ll need it.” The Tower Trader’s form disappeared as his voice lingered in the air. Scott turned back to the cross, only to find that it, too, had vanished, replaced by the familiar figure of the Tower Trader.
“Oh, that reminds me,” the Trader’s voice echoed from afar, “your companions have faced quite the predicament over the last few years.”
Scott’s eyes narrowed. “Wait—did you say ‘last few years’?”
The Trader appeared closer, cackling. “Ah, I forget that few are aware. The Endless Bridge exists beyond time’s confines. A week here might be a year in one timeline, a decade in another. Your companions have faced quite an ordeal while you were missing. Now I see why no one could find you.”