Eldon had two diverging paths before him. The first one, regaining his abnormality, was safe. Being familiar with it, he could use it with perfection. It was also one of the rare abilities that could grow, only requiring that he consume vital energy to grow stronger.

However, having trod that path for most of his life, he knew its limitations the best.

The further he progressed, the more vital energy he needed to progress and the harder it became to lay his hands on adequate vital energy. Many years of killing and eating monsters and he only climbed two ranks to reach D-rank.

How much longer would he have to work before he could reach the higher ranks? Could he even realistically ever reach the legendary S-rank in his lifetime?

No. The answer is no. The chance of that happening is bleak.

And though the first path seemed safe, it was in truth riddled with risks. When he regained his abnormality, would he have to restart from the bottom? Would he start again from F-rank, struggling to work his way upwards? Or would he regain his original abilities, or maybe even go further? Eldon had no way to tell.

He had just one day before the war began. He didn’t have years to spend toiling away on the battlefield to regain his D-rank abilities.

The second path, however, was different.

According to the Quartermaster, he could quickly grow stronger if he used the pill. It would allow him to practice Abyss Eye’s technique, even without an abnormality.

It could be the way to reverse his fate.

Eldon wanted to become strong enough to hold his own—and, in fact, to dominate. He was sick of struggling within the bottom ranks.

He remembered the years he spent fighting for his life, even in low-rated missions. He remembered the torture he went through when he lost his abnormality, the self-deprecation he felt each time Zachary came to his rescue.

Eldon let go of his hair. His eyes fell on the radiant yellow pill floating in the glass cube.

No more, he thought as he rose and stepped forward, keeping his eyes on the pill. No more running, no more hiding,… no more languishing under someone’s protection.

From now on, he would take control of his life.

Item: Mediating Body Pill Waste

Description: By-product produced during the pill-making process of the Mediating Body Pill.

Price: 5 Tome Points

Eldon froze after reading the text that popped up in his Seeker as he laid his hand on the transparent box.

Waste? By-product?

He took off his hand. The interface disappeared. He put it back, and the interface reappeared again. The text was the same. Without a doubt, the pill before him was indeed a by-product.

Eldon could not help but ask the Quartermaster. “Is this pill really a waste product?”

He found it absurd that a waste product could help him practice an S-rank technique.

“Of course,” the Quartermaster replied. “You can’t afford the Mediating Body Pill. However, rest assured that this pill is more than enough for you. Your physique is close enough to the ideal one for the technique that you’ll be fine with the by-product.”

Since the Quartermaster said that, Eldon could only agree. He had made his choice, anyway. Regardless of if it was a waste or by-product of some other pill, he didn’t care. All that mattered was that it helped him become stronger.

“Have you decided?” asked the Quartermaster. “Your time is almost up.”

Eldon took a deep breath. “Yes. I will take the Mediating Body Pill… waste.”

Molten lava flowed through the gaps in the splintered rocky ground, like blood flowing through veins. Towering volcanoes spewed black fumes that rose into the murky sky. The ground shook intermittently, as if a gigantic monster were trapped underneath, struggling against its bonds. In the distance, a volcano erupted, shooting crimson lava in every direction and causing a rain of horror.

Zachary stood petrified on a floating rock in the middle of a pool of lava. One moment he was flying through the void and the next, he was standing on this bobbing rock, standing still for dear life.

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He looked around him at the hellish landscape. There’s no way this is the Quartermaster’s store, right?

The lava in the pool lapped against the rock. Every second, the rock seemed to sink deeper. Soon the lava would lap Zachary’s feet instead of rock.

Several other rocks bobbed in the pool. He could use them to get to the larger piece of land further away, but they all looked suspiciously small. Zachary imagined stepping on one of them, only to feel his feet dip down and into the smoking liquid…

He gulped. He also didn’t dare summon his abnormality in this place. Who knew what would happen if he summoned fire in this hellscape? Would the place explode? He didn’t want to find out.

“Scared of heat now, are we?” said a voice. Zachary whirled around. The Quartermaster watched him from the bank, hands behind his back. On closer inspection, it appeared to be the Quartermaster’s projection, as Zachary could see the erupting volcano through him.

“How many have you subjected to the horror of burning to death?” the Quartermaster asked, walking towards him. “Yet you are so scared of it. Isn’t it ironic? That you put others through the horror you fear so much?”

As he spoke, the Quartermaster stepped onto the lava. Zachary opened his mouth to warn him of the heat, but the Quartermaster simply walked over like he was walking on flat ground.

The Quartermaster came close to Zachary, staring down at him. His black eyes, which Zachary could see through the mask’s eyeholes, were devoid of emotion.

“Answer me. Are you a hypocrite?”

Zachary struggled to respond. “I have only ever killed beasts on the battleground with it. I’ve never burned a human to death.”

“You would love to,” said the Quartermaster. “There is at least one human you would love to burn to death.”

At that, Zachary froze. Time seemed to stop.

What is he…?

“And I can help you with that.”

The Quartermaster laid his hand on Zachary’s shoulder, and the world spun. When it settled down a moment later, Zachary was standing on the bank, with three intricately carved stone pedestals some distance away from him.

On the first one was a tattered fabric piece on which tightly packed letters glowed red. The letters were familiar to Zachary. He could only read the first line from his position.

The Phoenix’s Feather.

On the second pedestal, a fiery scarlet leaf with golden veins floated, radiating a powerful aura.

Strange, wiggling runes covered the last pedestal, each one shimmering and disappearing.

“Control, power, and vengeance,” the Quartermaster said, pointing at the pedestals one by one. “The three things you desire.”

He pointed at the piece of fabric. “A fire technique. If you properly study it, you won’t only increase your control over your flames, but also your understanding of fire itself.”

Pointing at the leaf, he continued. “That contains intense fire energy. Consuming it will increase the fire within you.”

The Quartermaster gestured to the last pedestal. “As for that, it will help you with your revenge. If you touch it, it will modify your abnormality, giving you great power that feeds on anger.”

“You need the others, but this you need best,” said the Quartermaster. “Enough control and power will elevate you to higher ranks, but you will not improve until you remove the restriction you have placed on yourself—of that fire inside you. The vigorous nature of fire does not allow it to submit to suppression. You will only harm yourself if you continue like this. You must let out the flames or they will consume you in the end.”

Zachary stood stunned for a minute, then smiled.

“You…” he said. “What makes you think you know anything about me?”

“Oh, but I do,” the Quartermaster said. “You agreed to make me choose what you needed most, giving me access to all the information that would help me make that decision. Therefore, I know everything about you.”

“I’ll choose whatever I want to. I no longer want your help,” Zachary said. “Keep your good intentions to yourself.”

“You’ve paid for it. I am only delivering on our agreement. You need these, especially the third one.”

“I want the first one,” Zachary said. “I want control.”

“Think carefully,” the Quartermaster insisted. “Until you remove the limiter, you won’t be able to make progress. Do not let anger or short-sighted gains blind you. The third choice will increase your strength as you get angrier—the more pain you feel, the stronger you become. It is a perfect addition that will help you both overcome your weakness and become stronger.”

“I want him dead,” Zachary spat. “But I won’t lose myself. I won’t let the blackness overtake me.”

“The blackness is a part of your abnormality, Zachary,” the Quartermaster said, shaking his head. “There cannot be light without darkness, or purity without filth. Embrace who you are.”

Zachary stepped backwards. “I choose to increase my control over my fire. I don’t want the modification.”

“Are you sure of this?” The Quartermaster asked.

“Yes.” Zachary said. Both of them stared at each other for a while.

Flames burst from Zachary. The environment reacted, the lava churning in response. The earth trembled as several distant volcanoes erupted in succession.

Zachary ignored all that. Moving faster than he had ever moved in his life, he flew towards the leftmost pedestal in a beam of fire, his hand stretched out. In that instant, he was sure the Quartermaster would try to stop him, but the Quartermaster shook his head.

His fire protected him as Zachary crashed hard against a formless barrier, causing him to be rebounded back. He tumbled across the ground and over lava until he came to a stop a long distance away.

He splayed out on the ground, chuckling. “So I don’t have a choice.”

The Quartermaster came up to him. “I’m sorry, but I cannot allow you to choose anything other than the third pedestal. In return, not only will I return the team points I’ve taken from you, but I will also allow you to receive the modification to your abnormality for free.”

“Tell me. Why are you doing this?” Zachary asked. He sensed no ill intent from the other party, and he knew deep down that they were right. However, why would the Quartermaster help him so much, forcing him to make the right decision?

“I can’t say,” the Quartermaster said. “Again, I’m sorry—”

The Quartermaster suddenly cut off. Zachary sighed. “Yeah, yeah I get it. I have no choice. Why do you keep apologizing? If you like apologizing so much, then let me pick what I want!”

Surprisingly, the Quartermaster agreed. “Fine.” He waved his hand, and Zachary was standing before the first pedestal again. Zachary stared down at the scrap of fabric on it and the letters on it.

He stared back at the Quartermaster, but the man stared calmly back at him. Quickly, Zachary snapped up the fabric and put it away before the Quartermaster could change his mind.

“That’s how a fair Quartermaster should be—” Zachary started, but a sudden push sent him flying through the void before he could finish.