Chapter 625 – Station
Chapter 625 – Station
“Before I let you out of my internal world, we need to get your escape plan sorted out. I won’t be able to remain by your side during the tournament, so this is our last chance to talk about this,” Lanthaniel said.
“After the finals are over, the top eight performers will undergo the ritual to acquire the Void Decree. Hopefully you’ll be among them. Even if you’re not, it’s best that you don’t try to flee the planet sooner than that, or you’ll put me in a tough spot. There will be a short break between the ritual and the award ceremony. You need to pick the most private location that you can find and open a portal to the Vault. I doubt that people will leave you alone after the tournament, so you might never get another opportunity.”
“What about you?” Percy asked.
He didn’t know Lanthaniel well, yet he couldn’t help being a little worried about the god whose internal world he had spent the past three months living in. Perhaps he shouldn’t have allowed himself to get too attached to one of Metatron’s henchmen, but since Percy had already agreed to cooperate with the titan, he planned to do so earnestly.
“I’ll flee right as the ceremony starts – which should be shortly after you’re gone. There won’t be nearly as many eyes on me, and even if there are, I’m a god. It’ll be difficult for even those in the Elemental Acquisition stage to stop me from activating Metatron’s Decree. Still, I’d rather not give them enough time to prepare a proper trap.”
Percy nodded grimly as he shifted his attention to his host. ‘Do you also have the Decree?’
‘I do,’ the Thess’kalan confirmed. ‘We’ll have two shots at opening the portal if there’s any trouble. I would advise you not to try anything funny though. Metatron won’t be happy if you flee by yourself and leave me stranded.’
‘You’ve got some nerve telling me that.’
Percy snorted. ‘But you don’t have to worry – I’m not going to screw you over if you don’t.’Okay… Percy would be lying if he said that he hadn’t considered it, yet he knew that betraying Kassorith without a good reason would be beyond stupid, even if that was precisely what the Thess’kalan deserved. Leaving him here to die would be the equivalent of slapping the titan’s face – something that Percy would rather avoid.
Oblivious to their internal conversation, Lanthaniel opened a portal in front of them, letting them out of the small desert as his words echoed in Kassorith’s ears again.
“Ah, and one more thing. If you have to refer to me by name out there, make sure to call me ‘Lanthos’. ‘Lanthaniel’ is the name I picked upon joining the Vault.”
Percy had wondered about that, having spotted a pattern between names such as ‘Gabriel’ and ‘Cassiel’, though he had assumed that this naming convention was reserved solely for the natives of the artificial world.
To his knowledge, nobody had asked his former hosts – those like Leo and Tlaloc that he had previously brought to the Vault – to choose a new one. Evidently, this was another area where gods received special treatment, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about it.
‘Do you think that Metatron will change your name to Perciel if you ever join him as a god?’ Micky asked, clearly finding this hilarious.
‘All the more reason to not let things come to that… Mickiel,’ Percy joked back.
Not being privy to their brief exchange, Kassorithiel had already exited the god’s internal world. Slithering onto firm ground for the first time in months, Percy instantly appreciated being able to breathe without having to constantly filter dust out of the air.
Even with his willpower tucked in, his Sage’s Pond expanded to every corner of a mostly enclosed space, feeding all sorts of information about his surroundings into his mind.
Before focusing on anything else, Percy carefully examined his escort. The god’s horns had shifted to a deep crimson colour, indicating that the powder had worked for the deity. Percy was admittedly a bit conflicted about this.
‘Maybe selling him the material was a mistake, but at least I’ll be two hundred thousand credits richer now…’
It was too late for regrets anyway, so he shrugged his concerns off, turning his attention outwards.
They were in a large metallic room with colourful runes pulsing softly across the walls and ceiling, strongly reminding Percy of the Vault. The symbols were written in a different language, however, the enchantments feeling slightly less potent than Metatron’s.
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Evidently, the technological level of the artificial world was more than a match for even the peak factions – or at least the Void Hand – though the difference wasn’t huge. Maybe it wasn’t all that surprising that Metatron could compete with the much larger alliance even as a solitary genius, considering the fact that he was the only god known to have comprehended a concept associated with magiscript.
‘I’m sure that they beat him in every other important metric,’ Micky said, having clearly guessed Percy’s thoughts.
Percy nodded, though he didn’t comment on that. More importantly, he realized that the room they were currently in had a floor and a ceiling, but only three walls. Its fourth side was wide open behind them, their senses stretching for hundreds of metres past some artificial boundary. And there was absolutely nothing beyond that point!
There were no people, no objects, no floor, and not even any air!
Glancing back in alarm, Percy saw mostly darkness, with a few stars glowing dimly in the distance. The only reason his host could breathe was because the enchantments appeared to box the available air inside the ‘room’, keeping it pressurized and preventing the oxygen from leaking.
“Are we in outer space?!” he couldn’t help but ask.
“Sort of. This is indeed a space station, though it’s located just above the planet where the tournament will take place,” Lanthaniel said. “Follow me. Everything will make sense soon.”
The hulking deity walked towards the wall opposite the opening with heavy steps. Pulling a golden emblem out of his internal world, he pressed it against the wall, waiting a few seconds for the metal to part into a large entrance.
Slithering behind his escort, Kassorith grabbed a similar pentagonal badge pinned to the side of his tunic opposite his spatial device, copying Lanthaniel’s actions. The Thess’kalan’s emblem was amethyst-coloured rather than golden, though it depicted the same image of a hand. It was naturally the ticket to the void tournament that Percy had previously stolen and recently returned to his host.
On the other side of the door, their bland, metallic surroundings gave way to stylish walls of varnished wood that wouldn’t be out of place on Remior. A series of elegant chandeliers hung across the ceiling; pots filled with strange alien flowers decorating either side of a long hallway that stretched far beyond the limits of Percy’s vision.
However, the fashionable décor was hardly the most interesting thing about the corridor.
The floor was made of fully transparent – probably-reinforced glass – giving every visitor a clear view of the breathtaking scenery beneath their feet. A giant planet unfolded countless kilometres below the station – a colossal orb dressed in a patchwork of vibrant green continents and deep blue oceans.
Scattered across the landmasses, several darker spots specked with thousands of tiny lights stood out, indicating the presence of bustling cities that were undoubtedly far larger than any Percy had visited. If he squinted hard enough, he could even make out the highways connecting those centres of civilization like a dense network of grey veins.
“This is Marador Prime, the main planet of one of the four founding factions,” Lanthaniel explained. Not wasting any time, he began walking through the long hallway, gesturing for Kassorith and Percy to follow. “See that large city floating in the middle of the ocean?”
Percy nodded as his gaze landed on the spot where the god was pointing. “Isn’t it an inconvenient location for a city?”
Lanthaniel shrugged. “They’ve built it there mostly as a status symbol rather than for any practical reasons. It’s called Maradion – the planet’s capital. That’s where you’ll be competing later.”
Kassorith didn’t seem quite as surprised as Percy, probably having been aware of at least some of this information. Even so, his heart was pounding faster. Despite having been part of the interstellar alliance for most of his life, this was clearly the Thess’kalan’s first time visiting another planet.
“Why didn’t we head there directly?” Percy asked, finding it a little strange that they had to stop at the space station first.
“We can’t. Specifically, I can’t. Any deity that wasn’t born on Marador Prime cannot get any closer than this. The space station is the designated spot to drop off our mortals.”
“Seriously?” Percy asked, creasing his borrowed brow. “You can’t even enter with permission from the natives?”
He’d already known that gods lost the ability to step foot on foreign worlds the moment they ascended to the Concept realm, though he’d never imagined that this limitation was so absolute.
“We wish. Unfortunately, the restriction doesn’t come from the local gods, so even they are unable to make an exception for their guests. Even their fellow Maradorian gods who originate from other worlds cannot visit their kinsmen.”
Percy found the revelation shocking. He wanted to ask Lanthaniel whether he knew the reason for this strange rule, though he opted to focus on more pressing issues.
“How safe is this for us? I was under the impression that the Void Hand isn’t very united. Are all these factions okay leaving their most talented mortals on a potentially hostile planet without protection?”
“The alliance does have its issues, but everyone understands that it’s a necessary evil. They wouldn’t dare to do anything dumb,” Lanthaniel explained. “Besides, the other founding factions house some important locations of their own, so they aren’t without leverage. Even on the off chance that the Maradorians go crazy one day, losing a single batch of mortals will be the least of our problems.”
Percy pondered over the god’s words as they traversed the long hallway, feeling like he understood the complicated dynamics of the grand alliance a little better by the time they reached the end.
Eventually, they stepped into a new room, and they weren’t alone this time. There were dozens of groups of various sizes seemingly waiting in a queue for registration, each containing both mortals and gods.
Percy tried not to stare at any of them directly, though he had no qualms about scanning everyone with his newest Wild Art, studying his soon-to-be opponents with great curiosity.
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