The Stubborn Skill-Grinder In A Time Loop

Chapter 113 - The Battle of Glyphward Fortress

“Can’t say I like the restless waitin’ before these big battles ser. Feels like me guts are bein’ flipped like fried fish on a hot pan.”

The lad was standing in place, yet Fenton looked as though he wanted anything but. Orodan pondered giving him an errand to run if only to allow the nervous young man to expend the anxious energy.

Not that an errand could’ve taken Fenton’s mind off battle with that titanic thing looming above them. The Invaders’ black hole drew nearer, and Glyphward Fortress was perfectly placed on that collision course.

Orodan spoke. “You’re not normally this twitchy before a fight. Aren’t you usually keeping occupied with whatever enchanting project will end up being of critical importance to these fights? Wouldn’t have won the battle of Alastaia without you.”

Fenton shrugged the honest praise off with a frantic shake of the head.

“That’s different ser… I don’t feel like doin’ any enchanting right now.”

[Vision of Purity 111 → Vision of Purity 112]

Orodan’s gaze turned away from the enemy black hole. Attempting to train his legendary-rarity vision skill through peering past the chaotic turbulence and defenses of that thing was effective, but for now the singular level would suffice. Instead, he gave Fenton a sideways glance, giving nothing away. Yet his eyes saw the soul clearly.

That had been a lie.

“Right… Fenton Penny, not feeling like doing any enchanting,” he slowly spoke. “Have you taken ill my disciple?”

“W-what? Perish the thought ser! I’m healthy as a newborn shark!” the prodigy of enchanting hastily defended. That much, Orodan ascertained was true. “Just clearin’ the mind on the eve of battle. Like yer’ doing right now, see!”

In a sense, his exercise could be seen in that lens. But really, Orodan had never needed to clear his mind before a fight. It was either time to fight, or he had time to get some last minute practice in for some skill or the other. It was a mentality Fenton himself shared.

Which was what made his disciple’s current behavior stick out like a loose nail.

“Who was it that told you to avoid enchanting?”

“N-nobody…? Nobody at all Mister Orodan,” the lad answered a bit too quickly. “Er… you know what? You’re right, maybe I am taking ill. Think Mister Gregory’s got some tonic for it? Ought to go ask him for some.”

With that, the young prodigy of enchanting beat a hasty exit. Words aside, just the body language alone was enough to convey that he had been hiding something. Much like his master, Fenton was a terrible liar.

His eyes remained on the retreating form of his disciple for a second more before they returned to the black hole. The youth was certainly acting squirrely, but Orodan wasn’t concerned.

“An odd young child, is he not?” It was a wispy voice from behind. The Master of Death. The Embodier responsible for ensuring the souls of the System’s fallen remained within allied hands. “Does the obvious secret he bears not cause you alarm, time looper?”

“A young man, not a child. A boy would not possess the grit to achieve all he has,” Orodan corrected. “And what secret could he bear that would cause me concern? I don’t go around demanding my disciples spill forth their affairs to me. If he wishes to speak of it, I am here. If not, it’s his business, not mine.”

“You are… trusting. Can you afford such things when treachery from within remains a threat?”

Orodan’s eyes narrowed.

“Thus far, the only talk of such betrayal has come from you. In the absence of any threat… attention falls upon he who would cry wolf. What are you trying to say?” Orodan bluntly questioned.

The pale Embodiment of Death stared at him a moment, as though assessing him then and there. Whatever calculus spun behind the pale being’s eyes must’ve come to a favorable end though, for the Master of Death’s eyes softened, and the Embodier’s posture turned slightly less guarded.

“In the absence of any better cause, it must be reasoned that the simplest explanation is the truest one. Perhaps you really are as direct and straightforward as you seem, Orodan Wainwright,” the Master of Death replied. “I would give counsel, that you might be better served taking after your compatriot who guises herself… but that would simply lead to me mistrusting you as I do her.”

“Her? How can you know that?” he asked, trying his best to remain decidedly neutral in tone.

“For you are a terrible liar and your poor ability in putting up an act gives me the confirmation I require. Yet another reason why I am certain tis’ not you who harbors notions of treachery,” the Embodier replied, causing him to look away like a thief caught red-handed. “Be at ease. Her secret is none of my concern. Smart of her even, for neither the Warrior nor the Mage have managed to uncover her identity. Unfortunately for her, very few living things have a complete lack of fear towards death. A natural thing which allows for certain details to be gleaned by those who have the sense for it.”

Be it preparing their weaponry and equipment, marshalling their forces or some meditation, the Administrators, Orodan’s allies and the other Embodiers all had gone off to make their last minute preparations for battle. Here and now, there was nobody else around.

“Such freedom from listening ears is a rarity in this fortress. Listen well then; inflaming the fires of suspicion within one who has come to aid us serves me no benefit. You question why I would stoke such mistrust within you? That is because Glyphward has ever been a strange place and the battles against the Invaders prior to the recent cataclysm were laden with minor acts of suspicion. Souls leaving my purview without explanation, enemies succeeding in their retreat after failed assaults against the boundary more often than not… enough to cause alarm in my mind,” the pale being spoke. “Yet… these suspicious patterns have heightened in their intensity since the numerous boundary breaches… and doubly so since your arrival.”

Since his arrival? Had this traitor gotten spooked by his sudden entrance?

“If it is your impact you question then you are right to do so. Whatever has been occurring here, has been going on for a long time. You, time looper, are the sudden wild beast set loose within the peaceful forest of these plans. Your assistance in the Crimson Sink in annihilating an invasion arm of the Void Archon swarm, it has made them quite… hurried in their pace. To do what exactly, I know not.”

“A deceptive web of trickery. Have you no suspects after all this time?” Orodan asked, frowning.

“I could name each of the inhabitants of Glyphward for they all have some measure of erroneous conduct to them. But be wary of-”

The fortress shook, and the ever-present dark sphere of the Invaders’ siege shifted closer.

“The hour approaches, Orodan Wainwright!” the loud voice of the War-Father boomed out. “Make for the fourth sally port! Pale one! Talasgan awaits at the first! We march!”

Orodan didn’t need to be told twice. He’d only been waiting all this time that the others he would be fighting alongside could make their preparations. Still, he couldn’t help but become suspicious towards this most opportune interruption. It begged the question of just who was overhearing the conversation and who would want him not knowing potential targets of suspicion.

The Master of Death considered it important that he know however. “Beware the eye which sees all, Orodan Wainwright. Of us all, the Identifier is the only one who spends large amounts of time beyond the bounds of System space.”

That giant floating eye? The one which was a rare variant of a Beholder? Orodan frowned.

He didn’t think so at all.

The time for battle had come, yet even as the Master of Death moved swiftly for the assembly point, Orodan couldn’t help but cast an assessing gaze upon the pale Embodier.

Was the Embodiment of Death in fact the traitor? But why attempt to induce such suspicion in Orodan? No… that would’ve been an entirely too foolish move for an actual traitor to make.

Politics wasn’t his forte. He and his compatriots had scarcely a moment to breathe upon their admission before the formal duel took place and the Invaders’ assault began in earnest. As a result, Orodan had found no moment to question either Zaessythra or Almyra about their thoughts on the matter. Either of them would’ve been far better suited to uncovering such treachery.

Added on top of that was Fenton’s odd attempt at lying to him.

Why would his disciple even do such a thing at all?

He shook his head, clearing his mind of the labyrinth of connections he was grasping at. These thoughts would serve him naught in battle. As he made for the fourth sally port of Glyphward, his eye remained on the approaching black hole, its trajectory aimed right for the boundary.

Orodan had seen the sheer destructive power it unleashed upon detonation. That was the real threat.

The sadistic Boundless One, its minions and the Invaders were its driver, but couldn’t breach the actual boundary until that siege weapon of theirs blew open the way. Given the number of strange anchors he’d seen within the black hole during his first sally out many loops ago, he doubted blowing open the boundary to System space was merely a matter of sufficient force.

His ability in Enchanting wasn’t enough to make heads or tails of the complexity of those things.

Teleporting within the fortress was difficult without some sort of special token the Administrators possessed. And while Orodan could’ve brute forced the matter, the black hole’s approach caused enough alarm; he felt it best not to cause any more himself. His stride brought him to the fourth sally port where his companions were waiting.

Zaessythra and Almyra were present, with the latter covered in her usual gamut of illusory magic and enchantments. His Vision of Purity had advanced leaps and bounds since the first time he’d met her… yet it was pointless now. He saw Fenton’s handiwork in some of the obscuration spells now surrounding her; a recent addition and enhancement surely. He doubted even the Identifier could see through it now.

Across from the two, heatedly arguing with them, was the Mage. And the Administrator didn’t look happy in the slightest.

“Is this the extent of your military power, guised one? I see less than two-thousand combat-capable beings aboard a mere dozen ships. A drop of water compared to the ocean of numbers our foes marshal against us. And this obscured ship at the center of your fleet formation… even I cannot peer within. Your mistrust earns you no favor here.”

“Speak not to us of mistrust when your every word has been laced with it,” Almyra icily retorted. “Are we to lay bare our deepest secrets at your behest? To strip our homeworlds bare of defenders all for the sake of aiding you? A spoiled child would express their dissatisfaction with a gift in a less entitled manner. If this is how the Administrators treat those who offer aid freely it is little wonder the System’s defense is in the state it is.”

Kalmiron looked as though he wanted to continue arguing, but it was clear that the Administrator had some sense of shame. The mighty spellcaster swallowed his words and nodded.

“Your words are… reasonable. I recant my words and their… incendiary nature,” the Mage responded. “It is not I, but Talasgan, who wishes to know what is within the central flagship your fleet surrounds. We have barely had time to concoct a plan of assault and your fleet’s composition is an unknown factor which our commander wishes to factor into his plan.”

“Our command is our own. We have come offering aid against our mutual enemies, any cooperation is towards that end alone. Do not misconstrue our aid as the swearing of fealty to Talasgan’s banner,” Almyra resolutely laid out and then turned to Orodan as he neared. “Orodan, the assault begins soon. Our forces are to sally out from the fourth port. Naturally, you shall be our vanguard, the tip of the spear.”

“And the other defenders of the System?” he asked.

“They shall be sallying out from their own respective ports towards different sections of the Invaders’ defensive formation. If all goes well… which it rarely ever does, we shall crack the enemy black hole open,” Almyra answered and then glanced at the Mage out the corner of her eye. “You asked what our flagship is for? It is to break open a hole in the enemy’s siege weapon without causing it to explode, that we might enter to counter-storm them.”

The Administrator still didn’t look as though he trusted any of them, but that answer had at the very least mollified him. Though, Orodan had no clue why they would need a flagship specifically to breach the enemy black hole. He’d broken in himself last time… Almyra had seen it herself.

Something wasn’t adding up He glanced at Zaessythra. “Where’s Fenton? Old Man Hannegan? Where are the rest of our people? I thought Talricto and Alagameth would want to be present for something like this.”

He was a warrior, not a leader; never had been. When he’d brought others into the loop it had quickly become apparent that Zaessythra, Alstatyn and Tegin Carrotfoot were actually suited to command.

“Occupied defending other breaches on the boundary wall,” she said, her tone implying that it was best not to question things further in the presence of the Mage. Neither she nor Almyra seemed to trust the inhabitants of this fortress at all.

“Very well…”

He didn’t question it any further.

Their strike force’s port of exit was to be the fourth. Though in terms of the order of assault all four would open simultaneously. Zaessythra, Almyra and the Mage. Alongside himself, that was four Embodiers in this strike force. A mighty concentration of power, especially given how both Almyra and Kalmiron had Mantles.

Two Administrators’ Mantles in one strike group. From what he’d heard, Talasgan’s own strike force was composed of him and the Prophet. And given that the other two assault groups were the orcs and the dwarves respectively… the disparity in power was evident.

It was obvious that two of the four strike forces were meant to do the actual work. While the other half? Even if he was being optimistic, Orodan could see they’d been relegated to the role of cannon fodder.

Though perhaps if he fought hard enough they wouldn’t need to fill that role.

With determination in his eyes, he listened intently as Almyra laid out the specifics of their assault and how it fit into the overarching plan from Talasgan. Each assault group was to strike at a specific side of the black hole, with the aim being to capture the anchors, wrest control of them and begin using them to drive the black hole away from System space and towards enemy battle formations.

The anchors being capable of that function was something neither he nor the defenders of Glyphward knew. That, had been the work of Fenton Penny closely studying Zaessythra’s memories of Orodan’s first rampage against the Invaders.

Who knew she’d been watching so closely? As expected of the World-Queen of Vylrystia, taking every shred of information from many loops ago as planning.

Using this information, Talasgan had formed the overall plan of battle. To strike the black hole, capture the anchors swiftly and begin the process of steering the enemy’s siege weapon away from the System. And from there? Detonate it as far away as possible from the boundaries, ideally within enemy ranks.

The Invaders were not an entirely unified force. The sadistic Boundless One and its minions such as the moon devourers and seven tyrants were the bulk. But the Void Archons were mercenaries, alongide some more ancillary forces they had. Furthermore, according to Kalmiron, the black hole was incredibly expensive to prepare and maintain in such fashion. Just destroying it without it achieving its task would be a critical setback for the Invaders’ plans.

Which meant that the System’s fate depended upon this upcoming sallying strike.

Prior to their arrival, it was a hopeless thought. The Custodian was forever occupied keeping the Eldritch Boundless One’s energies contained, the Prophet had been a madman who could not be relied upon for anything and was as like to turn against the Administrators as to help them. Which left only the Mage and the Warrior to fight the Invaders.

And against all seven tyrants, one of whom was the Reject… not even the combination of Talasgan and Kalmiron could hope to succeed. Forced to remain perpetually on the defensive even before Orodan had ever become the time looper.

But now, with Orodan here, the Prophet restored and an extra Mantle in their hands wielded by Almyra… the System’s defenders stood a real fighting chance.

“That instrument of destruction draws nearer… will Talasgan not sound the signal to sally?” Kalmiron muttered.

Orodan stood ready upon what appeared to be a balcony of Glyphward, but it extended out for a hundred miles. Below them was the fleet of the Alastaian alliance. A mere dozen ships, mainly Blackworth, guarding a central flagship whose interior even Orodan could not peer into. Surrounding the balcony and out past a hundred miles, a glossy dark energy shield sealed the entire thing off from the outside. It was definitely empowered by System energy… lots of it. And from what Vision of Purity told him, it was an absurdly tough material; both his Time Mastery and Space Mastery were giving him the distinct feeling that it was heavily resistant to those too.

It wasn’t difficult to imagine that the film would open up or allow them passage when the time came. From their position on the fourth sally port, the assault groups of the other ports were also visible.

Kharadun Voidfortress and his mercenary dwarves were marshalled upon the cusp of the third port. Their voidfleets were ready. Most distinctive though, was the planet-sized flying mountain-fortress which floated in the deep void on the home side of the boundary. It was far too big to fit into a sally port. The fortress was manned by an impressive army of dwarves, firepower and defenses. And based off the feeling he was getting… there was more than one Embodier within that gigantic fortress. It would be a key instrument in drawing enemy attention and would likely present a serious threat to the Invaders’ black hole.

And on the second port, were the gathered forces of Azkar the War-Father and his orcs. A sea of red, green and ashen gray. A ferocious-looking frontline of large, imposing warriors in very heavy armor. Followed by rear-ranks of shamans, skirmishers and the like. They didn’t have much voidcraft, but what they did have couldn’t fit on the port itself due to size. Enormous beasts which ranged from hundreds of miles in size, to larger than Alastaia. The largest of them was the size of multiple star systems.

The slobbering thing whose tongue lolled out was shaped like a ball, but had an enormous mouth full of sharp teeth to go with its giant tongue. Structurally, it was entirely similar to the hungering moon devourers he’d seen beyond the boundaries… but it lacked that wicked rot and desperate hunger for all flesh. Rather… it seemed quite content; almost like a happy dog?

It was definitely an Embodier. It was one of the largest living things Orodan had ever seen in all his loops, and he’d fought a Living Crystal the size of a star system. This titanic thing was multiple times the size he recalled Ur-Vah’sahn being.

Good to know the other assault groups had more than one Embodier besides their faction leader. It gave Orodan a little more assurance that they weren’t just going out to die.

And finally, on the first port was Talasgan, the Prophet, the Master of Death and the Identifier alongside whatever smaller bands of combatants they were able to scrounge up. Their voidcraft were limited too. But appearances could be deceiving, and Orodan could immediately tell that most of the people on the balcony of the first sally port were either Transcendents or Embodiers. A concentration of quality. How these people had responded in time, Orodan did not know, but it was not unreasonable to think that there were plenty of experts loyal to the System who would be willing to respond to such a summons for such a critical assault.

Frankly, it made Orodan wonder again why Zaessythra and Almyra had committed so few of their forces. Even at full power, the armies of the Alastaian alliance would not be equivalent in numbers or average quality to these other assault groups. Barring their top end, they did not have too many Transcendents, let alone Embodiers.

Orodan would have to make up the difference himself.

Seconds passed as the black hole loomed closer.

The defenses of Glyphward began activating as well, presenting the notion that the defenders intended to remain inside and try to shoot it out from behind their defenses.

The rest of the Alastaian contingent were aboard the ships, leaving only Orodan, Zaessythra, Almyra and the Mage on the actual standing platform of the port. There was no anxious fidgeting here, nor any pre-battle nerves. Each person here was quite old and seasoned. Even Orodan, the youngest of them all, was likely a few thousand years old chronologically. They had, all of them, been in enough battles.

And yet, he couldn’t help but have a familiar bad feeling in his gut. He’d been in this position enough times before major battles.

A hand brushed his own, the fingers long and slender, yet warm and reassuring.

“It will not be how you are thinking,” she quietly spoke, as though reading him like an open book.

He smiled. “I thought you’re supposed to be the book here, not me.”

“You’ve never been difficult to read, Orodan. There are… things we have prepared for, but nothing will come of it. You’ve brought us all into the loops now, you’re alone no longer,” she continued. “We’ll fight, you’ll die or perhaps even win, and then we’ll be back in Ogdenborough before you know it. With plenty more skill levels to show for it no doubt.”

“Heh… you make it sound so simple like we’ve won already,” he lightly chuckled, his gaze then returned to the black hole above. “But perhaps you’re right. I’ve been in this same situation before a big battle so many times now that I’m conditioned to see it go wrong. I suppose I’m not alone anymore.”

Her fingers wrapped around his and gave them a brief squeeze before departing. Just in time too for the warmth of her hand had barely gone before a booming eruption of Glyphward Fortress’s central signal horn rang out. From what he’d heard, it was a titanic device which was sounded only in the most dire of circumstances.

Given the apocalypse threatening them all, the horn felt apt.

“Defenders of Glyphward! Calamity approaches from every direction! Boundary breached, Eldritch corruption spreading throughout our cosmos, Invaders assaulting multiple galaxies… these are dark times! Yet in times of darkness, the little light which remains must shine ever brighter. We are that light!”

Talasgan’s voice boomed out.

“Today we sally forth against the darkness of the horrible one. Our foe, sensing this moment of recent crisis, has brought its ultimate weapon to bear against the bounds of our home. Shall we allow this? I say nay!”

The words were standard fare, yet the feeling evoked within Orodan was not. That was certainly a skill.

“Not all of us shall return, but that is a fate I am willing to accept for even myself! For what is death compared to the eternal horror of failure at our foe’s hands? Should the great evil succeed it shall inflict unto us and our loved ones the very same fates you see reflected in those wretched things beyond! The role of guardian and steward of System space is entrusted not just to we Administrators, but to all of you! Let us show them our fury!”

Orodan’s soul certainly felt brighter and stronger. Whatever skill Talasgan used to rouse the assault groups, it worked. He could sense the power behind each group increase noticeably.

And with those final words uttered, the glossy film of energy surrounding each of the sally ports suddenly turned bright.

Almyra moved, conjuring twenty mirror clones of herself. “That’s our signal, pass through the barrier. Mage, might we trouble you to advance ahead of us and cast a barrier spell? You’re the most competent spellcaster among us.”

Kalmiron frowned, but the wizard’s pride had clearly been laid on the line, thus he moved forward and through.

Orodan, being the vanguard, was about to go ahead of him…

…when a hand grabbed his arm.

He turned a questioning look towards the source.

“Hold,” Zaessythra spoke quickly, urging him to remain. And at his look of confusion, elaborated. “We shall be… altering the plan slightly. Orodan, compress time now, quickly.”

He had no idea what was occurring but trusted her enough to act without question.

[Smite of Abrupt Deliverance 101 → Smite of Abrupt Deliverance 102]

The aspect of Time Compression within the skill flared—combined skill still allowing isolated usage of its component skills—and time immediately sped up for Orodan to the point that anything that wasn’t him appeared to be moving roughly five-hundred times slower.

A quick flare of chronomancy pulled Zaessythra, Almyra and the ships of their fleet into this field as well.

“An impressive rate of compression… undetectable now only because the Administrators have gone on ahead and the fortress remains mostly unmanned,” Almyra praised. “It is a good thing we did not go around advertising your chronomantic abilities Orodan.”

Almyra stepped forward, staring at the barrier intently for several seconds.

Outside, Orodan could clearly see how everything was drastically slowed. Or rather, it was he and everything within his chronomantic field which was absurdly sped up. Ordinarily, self-amplifying chronomancy of this sort was easily detectable by enemy chronomancers or via specialized artifacts, enchanted items and wards meant to disallow free reign over the power of time in battle. But with the System barrier they were behind, one which oddly resisted time and space magic as well? It was a different matter.

Outside, the Mage hadn’t even noticed yet that the rest of his assault group was not accompanying him. The passage of time was five-hundred times slower. And even with the Administrator’s drastically faster reflexes, it would take some time to process the absence then react. Ample time for Orodan’s allies to do whatever they were intending on doing.

Even though he had no clue what it was.

“Might someone explain things now? A compression rate of five-hundred to one is time enough,” he spoke.

“The barrier has a tracing spell on it… very subtle, not standard spellwork either. Somebody wants to keep tabs on us,” Almyra noted, beginning to weave a spell between her hands. It was raw soul energy, likely something to deal with the very structure of the tracing spell itself. “And to answer your question, there is a traitor in this fortress who is likely to not have good intentions towards us.”

“Aye. The Master of Death told me as-”

“A fool and a prop, or perhaps noble cannon fodder acting conspicuously to gauge whether anyone acts suspiciously,” she interjected, finishing the formation of the strange spell in her hands. “No Orodan, you do not know. In fact, we have kept it from you this entire time.”

Understandable, he was a terrible liar.

“Since we entered the fortress you mean?” he asked.

“No. Since the very first loop we arrived here, over eight-hundred loops ago,” she answered. “What? Did you think we weren’t there on the balcony of Glyphward, watching as you tore through the Invaders to get to the black hole the first time around? What you missed while you were fighting were the odd movements occurring within the fortress itself.”

“Odd movements? The traitor revealed themselves at that moment?” he asked.

“If it were that easy we would’ve pointed you at them already,” Zaessythra muttered. “No dramatic reveal I’m afraid. But the timing of the forces attacking you was incredibly suspicious, as was the absence of a number of individuals the very moment you sallied out.”

Almyra answered the natural follow-up question he had. “Those absent being the Master of Death and the Identifier.”

“A web of devilry and scheming… that pale shepherd of the dead is the one who warned me of treachery,” Orodan noted. “I doubt it’s him, or that giant eye.”

“Then we are of a mind. Now you understand our paranoia? This subtle spell upon the barrier all but proves there is foul play underfoot. As does the very conveniently timed advance of the black hole the moment you arrived at Glyphward, as though someone gave word to the Invaders,” Almyra elaborated.

She then finally let loose the magic which had been roiling in her hands all this time. It sailed a hundred miles, striking the glowing barrier.

Orodan’s eyebrows rose at the sight of her magic disrupting something very subtle in the still bright barrier. “Since when have you been capable of that? You used soul energy, but is that… spell breaking?”

Orodan was without a doubt the undisputed expert on soul energy as a substance itself within the Alastaian alliance. But when it came to actual application, a specialist using it for unfamiliar elements, chronomancy, spatiomancy and whatever else could still exceed him in understanding. This was one of those situations. Whatever Almyra was doing with soul energy, he did not entirely understand. Nor did his Vision of Purity manage to spot the subtle tracking spell which was allegedly laid into the barrier. Still, from the brief bits he could parse, it seemed to be a form of spell-breaking or counter-spell work Almyra was attempting.

Counterspelling, or spell-breaking, was an extremely difficult discipline. Even on Alastaia, before the loops and over the course of them when he’d acquired an education and learned of the world, the number of people capable of genuine counterspell work could be counted on three hands.

Orodan didn’t primarily fight via magic, thus he didn’t encounter spell disruption attempts too often. Even then the few times he had, such as when enemies in prior loops tried interfering with his chronomancy or spatiomancy were not counterspells or spell-breaking. Rather, those attempts had been his foes attempting to use their own chronomancy or spatiomancy to compete against him. Doomed attempts given how monstrously powerful he could make even a weak spell.

But, attempting to stop a spell, and actual counterspelling were two different things. Otherwise blocking magic with a shield could be called a counterspell and Orodan could go around calling himself the best spell-breaker in the universe.

No. True counterspelling required unraveling the very structure of the energy coming one’s way. Chronomancers could not stop spatiomancy, spatiomancers could not stop chronomancy, yet a true spell-breaker could stop any and all forms of structured energy, regardless of magic type or energy source. The only true example of genuine counterspelling he’d seen was in Kalmiron, the Mage. The Dispel skill the Administrator used was a true counterspell and could cause mana and soul energy based energy phenomenon to fall apart instantly.

And now it seemed his fellow time looper was attempting the same.

“One can only fight against someone so many times without picking up a few tricks,” she uttered, still facing the barrier.

It glimmered for a moment, and then, an almost imperceptible part of the magic within it came apart like a string being untied with a pull. This was a true counterspell, unraveling the very structure of the magic itself. And to do so without affecting the barrier overall…

“Damn… you’ve been training in secret,” Orodan honestly praised. “I could maybe clean the spell out of the barrier, but not without sounding whatever alarms are built-in. Trying to get revenge on the Mage for all those defeats?”

“Hmmph… hardly. I shall not be competing against him in that which he has devoted his entire life to,” she corrected. “But his method of spell-breaking is quite unique. Without the advantage of a time loop I doubt there are many who live to incorporate it after seeing it. Now then, come aboard Orodan, we shall be taking an alternate route.”

Orodan stepped aboard the forward leading ship of the Alastaian alliance’s fleet. Their number of voidcraft was pitiful, and he still couldn’t see what exactly was on the central flagship the fleet was guarding, but it would have to do. He trusted Zaessythra’s acumen for strategy, he trusted Almyra’s ability to devise multiple layers of plans.

And if all else failed? His sword arm and martial prowess were the one thing he could count on.

On-board, the voidcraft was crewed primarily by Blackworth Collective forces, all of whom looked quite veteran as though they’d been hand-picked for this mission. Even then they couldn’t help but stare at him as though they were seeing a ghost. Unsurprising given how infrequently the average looper had gotten to see him over the past eight-hundred loops where all he did was train, battle and repeat.

The crew were mostly sailors, meant to operate the ship and its guns, alongside an officer. Though there were two peak-Transcendent sharpshooters as well.

“Mister Wainwright, ser! It’s an honor to fight at your side.”

“We’ve got your back my lord. Not one o’ them foul void scum will get to yer’ six with us on the watch.”

Orodan gave the two women a nod and the standard salute of the Volarbury county militia, closed fist over heart. They might not have been from where he was, but a salute between warriors was something which crossed interplanar cultural boundaries.

The ship had a glowing three-dimensional map of the battlefield as well, alongside a distinct route meant for their assault group to take.

“We’re looping all the way around the rear?” he questioned, looking at the intended course. A course that would send them barreling right into the back ranks of the Invaders to strike at the black hole from behind.

Zaessythra began pacing around the projection and took on the task of clarifying the plan. The tactics were her work after all.

“There are two important factors in our plan. The first, we cannot trust any of our supposed allies until we’ve ferreted out just who the traitor is. Your endearingly predictable habit of sharing with everyone the fact that you are the time looper has undoubtedly made you a target. If the traitor is to strike at all… it shall be against you primarily,” she expounded, pacing as she did. “And the second… is opportunity. This sudden and rushed advance of the black hole did not occur the last time we entered this fortress. It only occurred this loop after your arrival… specifically, after your fight against Talasgan. Whatever the enemy saw, it concerned them, enough to rush the approach of their siege weapon significantly. Naturally, this has left their flanks full of several gaping holes as their rear forces are yet to catch up. To compensate they’ve loaded as many forces as they can up front, assuming the urgency of defending against such a rapid approach will cause the defenders to focus on the front.”

“Or they could have a trap ready at the rear, prepared to annihilate anyone who tries such a tactic. One of war’s many grim possibilities,” Almyra added pessimistically. “But… I suppose that’s preferable to being blindsided by an unknown threat from behind while we heroically charge forward in a straight line as the Administrators would have us do.”

Orodan agreed with that reasoning. “Better the knife we see than the dagger from behind.”

“And we have the almighty Orodan Wainwright with us,” a Collective officer piped up. “With Lord Wainwright on our side, victory is assured!”

Almyra shook her head and returned to her own preparations as the men and women of the crew cheered at those words, rejecting the somber atmosphere her words had created. A swift save by the quick-thinking officer, salvaging crew morale and preserving their nerves. Orodan forgot sometimes that his fellow looper had essentially been a paranoid recluse for tens of thousands of years before her loops ended and his began. Working from the shadows through a figurehead monarch of the Collective didn’t exactly foster good social acumen. He doubted King Alstatyn would word things as bluntly.

The crew—even the two Transcendent sharpshooters on-board—looked nervous. They were experienced veterans all, specifically selected to head this assault for their skills and mindset. Yet it was all too easy for him to sometimes forget that not everyone was Orodan Wainwright, eternally glad to do battle and suffer endless pain as nothing more than the casual price of strength.

They weren’t about to face some run-of-the-mill foe. Their enemies would be swarms of psionically-linked Void Archons, horrific moon devourers and worse. Frankly, Orodan felt as though he still hadn’t seen the full breadth of the enemy forces last time either, so who knew what else remained in store for them?

The odds were heavily stacked against these brave soldiers, and dwelling on it caused his shoulders to feel heavier. Yet he welcomed the weight gladly. Orodan would fight hard enough that none of his own would die today.

“Well? Are we done with the planning for our little act of rebellion?” he asked, rapping sword against shield. “I’m itching for another go at these invading pests.”

Zaessythra sighed. “If we wait just two minutes longer our route will be even clearer of foes as they focus upon the other assault groups.”

Orodan shook his head at this. “No. To allow others to spill blood while we wait in comfort would be the height of cowardice and dishonor. I will go now and begin clearing our path. It should make the approach safer for our ships.”

“I would rather you did not,” Zaessythra spoke, frustration in her tone. “Must you always lead in with that stubborn mentality of yours? Let the dwarves and orcs take their fair share, they are honorable warriors who you’ve rendered aid unto already. And the Warrior and Prophet are more than capable of handling themselves.”

“Perhaps there truly is a traitor among the defenders, mayhap there is not. But the warriors fighting out there will be in grave danger if we delay our entry any longer. To leave them to bear more of the enemy’s ire would stain our own honor,” Orodan argued in return, his mind dead set upon his course. “I shall go. Follow afterwards, your route will be less risky.”

Zaessythra looked displeased, her plan now askew.

“I do not agree with this recklessness. It is plain to see that you are one of the main threats to the enemy Orodan. The defenders know this, the enemy surely knows this given their sudden assault. Going out there alone will lead to you being targeted. And with what esoteric things even I cannot be certain.”

“And as we speak, the Invaders target those laying their lives on the line for the defense of System space. This discussion is over.”

Orodan had nothing else to say. As a warrior, when one had a line, one defended that line. Too many people had died for him already. Waiting in leisure while the soldiers of the other assault groups absorbed increased enemy pressure was unacceptable to him. The risk of a traitor or no, he would not allow the circumstances to shift his code of honor.

He stepped into the bright boundary separating System space and the greater cosmos outside.

His soul blazed with power as he exited, a casual side effect of very suddenly and abruptly transitioning from a five-hundred times faster chronomantic compression to standard time. Ordinarily the bleed-off was a little less dramatic, but the pure black boundary wall of System space behind him seemed quite good at blocking chronomancy as well as it did physical objects.

And with his soul blazing with that much power so abruptly… Orodan stood out like a burning beacon to absolutely everything on the battlefield the moment he entered.

On the other side of the boundary the black hole had an oppressive weight to it which couldn’t be felt from within the confines of Glyphward. And with it as a backdrop, the battle was in full swing.

Kharadun’s planet-sized mountain fortress was fighting off multiple world-sized moon devourers while the Embodier himself held off some nightmarish looking humanoid creatures which were the size of giant towers. Orodan hadn’t seen these before. They looked oddly similar to the moon devourers, but more evolved. As though the desperate and endless hunger of these world-shaped monstrosities had taken on a bipedal form. Stronger too. Embodiment-level at the least.

Azkar and his orcs were just beginning the clash against the swarms of Void Archons too. Azkar’s Reavers were experienced in fighting the hivemind of six-armed spellcasters already. Among the assault groups, theirs was best suited to clashing against them once more.

And most prominent of all was the first assault group in a head-to-head against a majority of the Invaders’ forces. With six incredibly powerful presences converging upon them. Talasgan and the Prophet were fending them off alongside their elite assault group, but it seemed an uphill battle.

The Mage, who had gone just ahead of the barrier but had been separated due to Orodan’s Time Compression, looked at him with suspicion. For a spellcaster of his caliber, surely Kalmiron knew or at least suspected that something had occurred. But in the frenzy of such cataclysmic war, such things did not take precedence.

“Time looper, our allies are under significant pressure. Advance as point and I shall shield you as best I am… wait… where are you-”

His somewhat ostentatious and dazzling entrance had caused large parts of the enemy force to look right at him. Thus, his first move was a simple one.

To make them pay for looking.

[Eidolon of Violence 143 → Eidolon of Violence 144]

His sword tore free from its sheath and plunged point first into the very concept of sight for each and every Invader looking at him.

Horrific cries echoed out! Sound did not transmit across the void, but Orodan could hear the anguish coming off of each soul, and the warnings too.

“Celestial! The faithless have another Celestial!”

“It is the heralded one! Inform our leaders!”

“Prey which smells like a predator… avert your gaze, children.”

“The destined one arrives… glory to the ending of limits…”

He felt the meaning of the words echo in his soul. It was the first time he’d ever tried actively listening via his soul sense alone. Within the System, even in the void, any attempts at communication were all translated via the System itself. Be it the hissing of hydras, the strange energy-based frequencies of elementals or the stranger communications of fusion slimes. Even if sound itself didn’t exactly transfer in the void, among living beings, all modes of communication came from the soul. It was a natural part of life. Be it words, or hissing, or chittering or differing tones of energy, it all camed accompanied by subtle signals from the soul.

It begged the question of whether he could ever understand mere projections, inanimate recording contraptions if he did not know the language and he was outside System space. But that was besides the point when here and now he could glean the meaning behind the Invaders’ cries.

The words were not translated perfectly. Not like it would be by the System. He was all but certain that the actual sentences said in whatever language these attackers spoke had more linguistic depth and meaning. But the intent from the soul was what carried over and he heard it just fine.

Some words, such as Celestial, seemed almost universal. Proof that some things had existed before the System and would continue to exist in corners of the greater cosmos which had never heard of it. But others such as ‘heralded one’ or ‘leaders’ could’ve been any particular title or nominal position which his System knowledge rune just couldn’t translate.

Though… who was this destined one? And what was the promised ending of limits?

Questions which could wait, for there was an army of foes waiting for him. And while a good portion of their ranks were horribly disoriented and at least temporarily blinded… the rest who hadn’t looked at him or those of enough soul and mental strength to resist the conceptual attack now had him in their sights.

Soul energy scattered across the void of the battlefield as the flat of his blade struck the boss of his shield thrice.

“I, Orodan Wainwright, challenge all of you to a duel!”

[Eidolon of Violence 143 → Eidolon of Violence 144]

The Commandment of War aspect of his Eidolon flared with power. The sheer audacity in demanding an entire army duel him gaining him a level in the overarching Celestial skill.

Celestial skills were powerful but their users had limits. Orodan broke all standards of fairness by having what other Celestial skill-bearers did not, endless power and a strength of mind sufficient to survive direct contact with Boundless Ones.

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The words were beyond nonsense. How could one challenge an entire army to a duel? By nature such a thing was one against one.. Yet Orodan cared not for logic or semantics. Whether they accepted or not, this duel would begin here and now.

Against all odds, in a feat of sheer impossibility… the entirety of the Invaders’ attention was upon him for a moment…

…and Orodan’s face held a feral grin of mad battle lust.

“It dares show such audacity?! Slay it! Ravage it! Sacrifice it to our benefactor!”

“Feed upon its life-flesh! Devour its very soul!”

“Resist! It is a Celestial concept directing your minds! Hold! All of you! Weak-minded incompetents!”

He felt a few souls among the enemy attempt resistance. The Eidolon of Violence was not omnipotent, and sufficient soul strength and mental fortitude could defend against the mental compulsion he demanded. But what good was that when the overwhelming majority of the enemy were now coming at him?

When these Invaders were already in the midst of an assault, naturally aggressive and seemed to already know of him as the ‘heralded one’… all it took was a slight nudge to enflame their desire for a fight. And Orodan welcomed all comers.

“Time looper… what madness are you orchestrating? The entire enemy force makes for us!” Kalmiron hissed near him. “We shall be overwhelmed in short order!”

Orodan paid him no mind. The enemy was focused almost entirely on him. “The only way out now is through. You may retreat back through the boundary or reunite with the rest of our strike group who have yet to come through.”

With this much ire heading his way, even he was not entirely certain of survival. Thus, striking first and with initiative while moving was the best course of action. After all, the other assault groups had a job to do, as did his own which needed their planned route to the black hole cleared.

The roiling heat of a Draconic Fireball coursed through his right arm, while the crackling energies of the Lightning Bolt raced through his left, the both of them causing a pleasant tingle but remaining mostly harmless due to his resistance skills. Both elements, he wove into enchantments within himself via Elemental Living Enchantment. The flame powered by soul energy, the lightning by mana.

In the past he’d primarily used fire to charge himself up for his most cataclysmic attacks since it was the only element he could charge with soul energy directly. But having access to some of the best mages of his galaxy and beyond as part of the time looper alliance meant that his teachers would suffer no shortcuts or missed opportunities.

Thus over the past eight-hundred loops while he’d died fighting the Mage he’d also trained his elemental skills further. And in doing so had learned, that even when powered by mana, certain elements were bettter at some enchantments than others.

Hence, the enchantments of speed and velocity in his flesh written in lightning. A furious swiftness coursed through him, one which only amplified the roiling fury of fire within him which empowered enchantments for power and explosiveness.

Orodan’s body almost moved faster than his own mind could perceive, and cataclysm ensued

[Draconic Fireball 106 → Draconic Fireball 107]

[Lightning Bolt 70 → Lightning Bolt 75]

The dual-elemental empowerment shot out in the form of mostly flame, which provided the raw power, and subtle specks of lightning. But it erupted horrifically quick.

A blinding flash of luminous power consumed a massive portion of the battlefield. Enough to destroy countless star systems. The energy even washed over the black hole, though did not affect it in the slightest.

Even with an enhanced mind it was difficult to count in the chaos of such a large battle in the void. But especially so when his body and the power he’d unleashed moved quicker than his reflexes could see. Still, he estimated at least twelve-thousand of the enemy had died. Mostly fodder, but a fair number of valuable Transcendent-level foes and even a few weaker Embodiers.

Of course, the Invaders had over two-hundred thousand combatants assembled here, so while a bad hit, it was hardly decisive when measured against their overall numbers. Moreover, such a large force was not without powerful defense and responders of its own. A particularly angry-looking spellcaster wearing armor so heavy he looked like a turtle, had blocked most of the cascading effect with a powerful barrier. An exceptionally powerful Embodier by the look of it, possibly an equal to the Mage.

This was definitely one of those few who’d managed to resist the taunting demand for a duel he’d forced via Eidolon of Violence. Large portions of the Invaders’ force were also beginning to come out of their crazed desire to fight him too, likely this armored spellcaster’s influence.

And with the effects of Eidolon of Violence fading, their attention began diverting towards the rest of the battle too. Which meant that the other assault groups would be threatened.

Thus, Orodan intended to give the enemy army reason to be concerned about him.

There were at least thirty-thousand Void Archons, and five-thousand moon devourers blocking his path to the back lines of the enemy through which his assault group needed traverse. A steep number for his allies to deal with, and killing them would take time even for him, given the Embodiers accompanying the swarm. Furthermore, the heavily armored spellcaster, likely one of the seven tyrants, was making way for him, which would see him pinned in place bearing a two-directional assault and his companions’ plan stalled.

Thus Orodan chose the one option which would have the guards of the approach and the enemy tyrant scrambling for him.

A direct entry into the attacking force’s rear ranks.

The spatial fold he cast was grossly overpowered, the endless energy of Incipience of Infinity flowing into it. Yet, immediately, he felt powerful resistance. So he pushed harder, funneling even more power into the skill as he always did.

[Genesis of Life 75 → Genesis of Life 77]

His soul energy caused his cells to die, yet at the same time his soul energy began transforming into life itself, birthing new cells at a rate his old Harmony of Vitality could never have matched. As though the life had always been there.

[Incipience of Infinity 185 → Incipience of Infinity 186]

This skill level gain came with an accompanying sense of wrongness. A feeling Orodan couldn’t quite put a finger on. As though an impending doom approached. It made no sense, nor did he have time to dwell on it.

The surge of power allowed him to push past whatever resistance was barring him.

“Too powerful! It breaks our grasp of space!”

“Intercept it immediately my children!”

“One step nearer to ascension and destiny…”

The words parsed by his soul sense went entirely ignored as he emerged among a group of robed individuals. Thousands of them in fact. Odd. He had never seen this part of the enemy force before.

They did not seem intent on fighting him either. Instead just staring at him with glassy eyes and manically happy smiles on their faces. They appeared human too. Yet they had a strange corruption underneath… one he found uncomfortably familiar. Not Eldritch. Just what was it? It was so very subtle…

What others considered eerie or frightening, Orodan routinely brushed off. But this? Even he found slightly disquieting.

He now had the attention of the entire enemy force. They were chasing him with utter fury. Whatever he had done by arriving at this part of their formation, they clearly did not want him to. Yet, in the distance, far behind him from where he’d cast the Spatial Fold to begin with, he saw Kalmiron attempting to delay their arrival to him.

Grudging respect formed in his heart at that. He had not asked the Mage to cover for him, but the Administrator was doing so anyhow despite the perilous situation Orodan had started. He could also see the ships of his own allies coming out the barrier, their path to the rear now vastly less populated with enemies. His plan to clear their course had been successful.

He could already sense enemy spatiomancy attempting to insert a quick reaction force. He needed to move quickly.

Yet… something about executing weird folk who were staring at him while remaining entirely harmless sat ill with his sense of honor. He wasn’t sure if these were even combatants, and Orodan had never been the type to indiscriminately slaughter support personnel. So instead of the sword… the shield and the fist began lashing out.

The rapping smash of wood on skull rang out as the first strange woman dropped. She never lost that disturbing smile on her face even as her eyes rolled back in unconsciousness. It almost reminded him of the victims of those memetic predators he had fought not too long ago.

Sound was audible here, which meant this section of the void had breathable air. Perhaps to keep these people alive? But why did they need to be kept alive in the first place? What even was this place? Some sort of ritual? Were these sacrifices? Even more imperative then that Orodan not kill them.

He moved quick, knocking out a hundred in less than a second on his way to the rear of the black hole before space utterly tore and a very angry responder stepped out.

Grey-skinned, with organs and musculature quite different to any species Orodan knew. Its eyes were entirely blue with not a pupil in sight and the nose was barely existent, being only two slits. Floating in the void at just under seven feet tall, matching Orodan in height while only being a third slimmer in musculature, was the heavily armored spellcaster he had spotted earlier. The armor it wore was so absurdly wide that it made the alien being look like a battle golem.

This was possibly the most physically imposing and well-armored mage he had ever seen. And within it, suffusing its mind and soul, was a familiar sadistic pink-hued influence which Orodan was quite familiar with. He now realized what these maniacally happy beings were corrupted with. The very same energy.

That of the sadistic Boundless One.

He knew the Eldritch could corrupt someone without making them mindless. But the wicked sadistic Boundless beyond System space could as well? Was this a trait of all Boundless?

Upon stepping through the tear in space, this armored mage’s eyes furiously and tensely scanned the surroundings. The alien mage’s expression eased in intensity after confirming that none of the brainwashed individuals he’d knocked out were dead.

“I don’t go around executing hapless victims if that’s what you were concerned about. What have you done with them?” Orodan asked, pointing his sword at his opposite.

The alien being’s look was hostile, though it morphed into a brief flicker of confusion. Only then did Orodan realize neither he or it could understand one another through language alone. And this mage seemed to lack the soul sense that he had.

A series of low-pitched enunciations came forth from its mouth. The inside of which had teeth all around like that of a sandworm. Orodan consciously tuned out the sound and focused only on the emanations of soul energy accompanying them.

“The heralded one? You are competent… are you truly one of the anointed? I have never seen one of your kind. The outside one speaks of your kind sometimes.”

“The outside one?” Orodan questioned. This being was not of System space. So perhaps the outside one referred to the Reject? “Do you mean the Reject? That madman Xia?”

The alien mage still appeared as though he did not understand. And honestly, Orodan had no way of confirming whether it even was a he, for its anatomy underneath was entirely foreign despite having a bipedal, humanoid shape. In response, he gesticulated with both arms, mimimg dual swords, and only then did the Invader understand, giving a weird upturned shrug of the head which Orodan didn’t understand, but which the soul energy emanation informed him was meant to be a gesturing signalling yes, like a nod.

It spoke again. “You understand I, but I do not understand you. Does the abductor not teach you speech? Are you savage? Another crime committed by the abductor. Your fighting will stop here.”

The soul sense translator was jarring. He knew it was uttering different words, but via soul sense he could only glean the true meaning of each word even if linguistic variations had been used.

Still, no further words were necessary here. This was, based off power-level alone, a foe equal in strength to an Administrator. Likely one of the seven tyrants, especially if it knew the Reject personally. If Orodan could kill it here, the burden upon the other assault groups would be lessened. And so what if they couldn’t understand one another? Between the two of them, battle was the only language that need be spoken.

Orodan rushed forward with brutality, the Eidolon of Violence tearing the very distance between them. The bulk of the Invaders’ forces chasing after him were soon to catch up if he didn’t end this quick.

Which was when his assault met thin air.

The alien barely teleported away, eyes wide.

“Strong body, like a fierce void beast. You may know me as Vax’Tul’Qun, commander of our God’s forces. And I do not fight fair.”

Its foreign speech barely ended before the activation of a powerful device upon its neck flooded the area with dozens of ships. These were extremely heavy and bulky voidcraft carrying thousands of extremely heavily armored soldiers apiece. They were all similar in gear and physique to this Vax’Tul’Qun.

On the bright side, Orodan could clearly sense that these alien troops had been pulled away from another front near the black hole. On the not so bright side, nobody had mentioned these troops to him at all during the War Council and he was about to get bogged down in a fight with a new threat. But on the fantastic side… he would be having a good fight!

The first thing the soldiers did upon dropping down was attempt to rouse conscious the sacrificial hostages he’d knocked out earlier.

That wouldn’t do. Just because he wasn’t about to slaughter hapless non-combatants didn’t mean he was about to allow the enemy’s plan—whatever it was—to proceed unchecked.

A broom left his dimensional ring and soul energy began to emanate from it.

“Double Celestial! Scatter! Evacuate the mirrors! I shall attempt to slow it!”

Unfortunately for Vax’Tul’Qun, its warning and subsequent attempt to slow time for Orodan both failed. The broom flashed outwards, and immediately all one-thousand of the maniacally happy and glassy-eyed folk went limp, their consciousness knocked out in the mindscape. He would’ve purged the corruption too, but something powerful was anchoring it and what came next interrupted his concentration.

[Domain of Perfect Cleaning 194 → Domain of Perfect Cleaning 195]

He felt something exceedingly strange and alien in each of those minds. Like something being reflected? What even was that?

The level gain came accompanied with that strange feeling of dread he’d had earlier with Incipience of Infinity, but stronger. How had he even gained a level from so minor an act?

He had little time to dwell upon the gain and instead shifted to combat. He could purge the corrupted hostages later. The alien infantry charged him.

Some approached in melee wielding dual-sides staves whose heads had scorching energy blades protruding. These had armor which was entirely black. Designated melee troops, rarer too. Only a few hundred approached him out of the thousands. He carved them apart like wheat from chaff, either Vax’Tul’Qun’s kind were miserable at close quarters martial combat, or these were disposable suicide troops meant to occupy him.

The other thousands of these blue-eyed soldiers were primarily ranged, wielding rifles.

Orodan had some knowledge of Gunsmithing, having dabbled in it to improve his understanding of Engineering, and he had to admit… it was quite the advanced model of rifle. No reloading after each shot, no requirement to chamber the next round like in a revolver. They were simply holding down the trigger and bolts of some substance which was a luminous combination of fire and lightning were streaming out one after another. The glowing bolts looked similar to what W78 and the combat units of the Unity would use. Plasma they had called it.

The bolts harmlessly spattered against him, his Fire and Lightning Resistance rendering the plasma utterly useless. And whatever physical force they imparted was of no use against his powerful form. This was the entire reason the Blackworth Collective never made such firearms. Firing too fast without empowering the shot produced a pitiful result.

Hells, Orodan would feel more threatened by the sharpshooters of the Collective than these bulky rifle troops. They might as well have been giving him a warm bath.

“Resistance skills! It possesses many forbidden powers of the abductor’s System! Deploy kinetic projectile weapons!”

Orodan had just finished massacring the last close-quarters warrior of theirs when a thunderous impact struck his chest.

The shot actually sent him hurling backwards, the heavy metal projectile burying a half-inch into his chest before a simple flex pushed it out and Genesis of Life made it as though the wound had never occurred. The real strategy revealed itself an instant later however, when another solid slug round hit him. And another.

And others after.

He looked up to see that it was not the soldiers aboard the voidcraft who were firing, but the craft themselves. The main guns upon them were unloading massive metal rounds at him. Each round was not too much of a threat… but when every ship was unloading the main guns and ancillary cannons at the same time?

It was one method of suppressing a martial warrior in the void where there was no solid ground to brace upon. Each impact sent him backwards further and further, despite him using spatiomancy to passively try and anchor himself in place. He didn’t have the specific skill for it, and Space Mastery alone could only get him so far.

Still, for him this was just training with extra steps.

Giant metal rounds fired from multiple voidcraft? It was no different to the old days where he’d started out dealing with the great arrows of a House Argon Adept archer.

Orodan allowed three more rounds to impact him, gaining a feel for the impact force, the timing, the projectile’s own mass and material properties…

…and then he moved.

His shield lashed outward. The heavy metal round caught perfectly at the right angle… and it went flying right back at the ship. The Perfect Parry aspect of Unassailable Fortress. Evasion would not be necessary. Orodan would receive each and every round and return them to sender.

Twenty more rounds struck, almost simultaneously. Yet the sword and shield wielded by one warrior returned them all unto their owners.

“Hull breach!”

“Mothercraft failing! Multiple comrades slain!”

“Incompetents! Scatter out and deploy weaponry from multiple angles of fire!” Came the frantic response of Vax’Tul’Qun.

A wise decision, for once the enemy voidcraft began forming a perimeter around him, reflecting each shot became exponentially harder. It was not that Orodan was slower than the projectiles. But rather, with so many hitting him from all sides at once, it was difficult to return them all.

Concurrently, the enemy tyrant began hurling gravity magic orbs his way, attempting to keep him further off-balance. Without any physical ground, what could he do against the power of gravity pulling him one way or another?

The two major problems were that he had only two arms and two legs, and no ground to stand upon. And if he retaliated with too much force, he risked killing the corrupted hostages the enemy had taken.

Of course he had various ways to get out of this bind, but to do so would’ve been to abandon the martial challenge before him. Shortcuts were no path to true strength. Thoughts of growing more arms and legs or using earth magic to create ground would’ve only sidestepped the matter and were not his way. Eidolon of Violence? Doable, but to rely upon a single catch-all skill without sharpening the foundational skills of his martial base was a surefire path to stagnation and complacency. After all, what use was mere violence when the medium of its infliction was not sharp?

No. The only way out of this fire would be straight through.

An Administrator-level opponent who refused to fight fairly and instead piled armies upon him while staying at range. A perilous situation, one he had little time for too. His allies needed him to prevail here so he could continue clearing the path for them. If he was too slow? They would be caught out in the open and butchered. And who even knew how the rest of the battle was going for the other assault groups? Orodan was too focused on this engagement to care about that.

The rounds struck him from multiple angles as the perimeter of the voidcraft surrounding him finalized. Worst of all, the enemy tyrant was not just a mage but also had some manner of command ability. Likely how it had stripped Orodan’s mental compulsion from its forces. The rounds striking him began to do some serious damage as the enemy tyrant empowered specialists whose amplification of each shot now reached the Embodiment-level.

Under such cataclysmic fire, Orodan’s mind went inwards as his body began moving on pure martial instinct alone.

What was unassailable fortress?

It was the fusion of his defensive prowess. His defensive bladework via Impregnable Bladewall, defensive shield work via Perfect Parry and defensive body movement via Evasiveness. A Legendary-rarity skill.

But thus far he’d only been using the sword and shield to parry and strike at projectiles to send them back.

Yet… a truly unassailable fortress was unassailable not just in itself, but in the area it safeguarded. What then, was the use of the evasiveness aspect of the skill? Ordinarily, he used it for moving out of harm’s way, or had a long time ago. His current style of combat left little room for dodging blows; it was not his way.

It was then that Orodan realized he’d been using Unassailable Fortress all wrong.

An unassailable fortress did not just guard itself. It guarded its surroundings. And the evasiveness aspect of it…

…could be used to step into a blow just as much as it could be used to step away from one.

[Unassailable Fortress 100 → Unassailable Fortress 110]

Orodan’s mind, body and the very zone around him became unassailable as he moved. Not to get away from the blows, but to get towards them.

He felt Vax’Tul’Qun’s shock as the next two seconds of the barrage consisting of thousands of metal shells…

…were all returned to their points of origin.

The crew aboard each of the voidcraft began crying out in terror and death as their ships were horribly damaged by their own barrage being returned unto them. The shots were empowered too, which meant they hit harder upon return.

The perimeter of fire formed to shoot him from all angles was no longer relevant as he began evading right into the shots, sweeping dozens in a single motion perfectly.

This… this was a true unassailable fortress.

Vax’Tul’Qun’s neck device glowed once more, summoning another large contingent of enemy reinforcements. Not more of its own troops this time, but the hungry moon devourers he was familiar with. And leading them was an incredibly powerful Embodiment-level presence on the same level as the tyrant he had been fighting thus far.

“Moon mother, the mirrors have been evacuated, the Apostle has custody of them. But… this heralded one is strong. Even without a direct clash I can sense it is beyond me. It would be folly to test myself fairly against it. Will you render aid?”

Orodan cursed as he just now realized that the robed humans he had knocked out were now gone entirely. Had that been the entire point of pinning him down for a moment? It was apparent that he was no commander with sight of the bigger picture.

As for this newcomer… it was a strange being. Humanoid in shape, feminine in particular, yet looking as though it was made of white moon rock. Upon sight, it would not be unreasonable to assume someone had carved the sculpture of a woman from moon stone.

Yet that was where the similarities ended. The mundane eye could not see it, but he could. A very thin slit where the mouth would be, almost imperceptible. Had an endless maw inside. And the inside of that maw was larger than a dozen star systems put together. And similar to Vax’Tul’Qun, it too had that sadistic pink hue of power coursing through it.

The stout tower-sized things fighting Kharadun had been smaller than the standard moon devourer but far stronger. This thing took it even further, being only a head shorter than Orodan himself, but causing his alarm bells to ring as though he was facing an Administrator. Just being in its presence made him feel as though he was being eyed up as a meal.

Orodan felt an aura of hunger wash over him, not affecting him due to the strength of his soul but causing Vax’Tul’Qun to subtly drool and his soldiers to begin clutching their stomachs. Hells, some even began pulling out rations from their packs in an attempt to stave off the feeling.

“The enemy has already breached three anchors while the Exvathamar and the three weaker chosen struggle to defend the weapon without our aid. And here you are, asking for more aid yourself? Pitiful. You are the incompetent you label everyone else. You cannot manage a singular foe even with such numbers? You bring shame to yourself and fail our God. The lieutenants of the great abductor reap a savage toll upon the swarm and my children. We will be swift here or else you shall face reckoning.” Its soul emanations were cold and hungry. Vax’Tul’Qun had a measure of emotion within it which Orodan could vaguely relate to as a human. This thing did not.

“And the outsider? What does he do? With his aid…!”

“The outsider does as he pleases, consorting with the Apostle to arrange for our true goal. Do not expect his aid.” it spoke, its soul emanations getting the message across even if Orodan could not understand a whit of its horribly guttural language. It then looked at him most hungrily. “Now then… an anointed? Such a unique specimen… perhaps I shall eat it? Perhaps I shall let my children partake of the scraps once I am done. Such a delectable soul… how it blazes so…”

Vax’Tul’Qun did not look pleased by the rebuke or the news, but either the tyrant was diplomatic and maintained relations or this moon mother was his greater despite being on the same relative level of power. Still, Orodan thought it was good news, knowing that System forces were doing well elsewhere took a weight off his shoulder and vindicated his decision to rampage back here to clear a path. The more forces he drew unto himself, the easier everyone else’s task would be.

And so what if this thing had a maw larger than most mortals could comprehend? Orodan would turn this sculpture into rubble.

“Two tyrants for me? I’m almost offended you didn’t bring all seven,” he interjected, delivering the taunting triple rap of sword upon shield. “Moon mother is it? An interesting method of conflict resolution… where I come from, calling one’s mother to handle a fight for you is rather embarrassing.”

The armored mage didn’t understand him, but the moon mother seemed quite attuned to souls and certainly did. Her mouth split open in a grotesque attempt at a wide grin which exposed the black void within.

“It has correctly identified your incompetence, Vax’Tul’Qun. I rejoice in joy for it is not often a meal is both amusing and delicious. Come… my children shall receive not a single bite of you. You are mine.”

The heavily armored battlemage began empowering his troops and the additional moon devourers which had shown up, but all of that was irrelevant.

For now that there were no hostages around, Orodan had leeway to unleash his full power.

The moon mother was not some elegant combatant. It bullrushed him like an absolutely feral, unhinged terror, blazing through the void like a horror whose arrival was inevitable. He welcomed this and met it in the middle.

[Smite of Abrupt Deliverance 101 → Smite of Abrupt Deliverance 103]

[Elemental Living Enchantment 74 → Elemental Living Enchantment 75]

[Draconic Fireball 107 → Draconic Fireball 108]

The battlemage and the rest of the enemy’s troops were blown away by the collateral shockwave of collision.

It was strong, but not as much as the Warrior. Orodan held the power advantage.

“Finally, a proper brawl!” he exclaimed as the two tied up and began spinning in the void in a chaotic ball of savagery.

It did not strike, instead opting to wrap around him with both its arms. And then…

…its maw opened and a long tongue slithered out. And where it touched, his face ceased existing.

Furthermore, it was not just the physical, but the non-material which its tongue affected too. His soul energy was devoured by its maw.

He reformed quickly enough, but absolutely none of his durability skills helped against whatever manner of consumption it was using. As though it was devouring existence itself. A terrifying foe.

One which made his blood boil with battle lust.

Orodan began exchanging blows while they were entangled, and immediately it became apparent that his raw savagery and berserk aggression in battle were too much for it. A few dozen punches, elbows and knees later, it immediately disentangled itself from him, several expansive cracks now visible upon its form.

Whatever it erased with its tongue, Orodan simply reformed. And whatever soul energy it consumed, he had an endless supply of.

“Brutish thing. Not even Talasgan dares to confront me too closely yet you would lay harm upon me? You reform flesh like water… and I sense no bottom to your soul… what are you? Vax’Tul’Qun, open fire upon it.”

The heavily armored battlemage commanded whatever was left of its forces to rain down heavy metal rounds, but Orodan would have none of it.

Instead of it rushing him, this time he rushed it, wrapping his arms around it in a tackle.

The moon mother hissed grotesquely, but he cared not. His tackle brought the two of them crashing right into the voidships of the other tyrant. And then… Orodan began producing large amounts of soul energy, causing his body to glow like a star.

The moon mother trembled, overcome with hunger, and its maw began absorbing soul energy into it like a sinkhole in a lakebed. However, its uncontrollable hunger had one other catastrophic effect… it drastically increased the suction power of its maw. Which Orodan now redirected by gripping its jaw and sweeping its head across the enemy fleet.

The souls of countless enemy soldiers were instantly devoured, leaving their bodies and flying right into the moon mother’s nearly bottomless maw. They dropped like puppets whose strings had been cut. Soul sight also told him that the souls were truly, genuinely, being obliterated once inside. A horrifying prospect, and making this thing one of the few entities he knew that could permanently destroy a soul unless the loops restored it.

“Contain yourself! Stop your hunger!”

Unfortunately Vax’Tul’Qun’s cries fell upon deaf ears for the hungering tyrant was far too enamored with absorbing Orodan’s bottomless well of soul energy, something he kept generating and gladly feeding it, causing it go further out of control into a state of pure feeding frenzy.

Ten seconds in, with a majority of the enemy reinforcements dead and the other tyrant looking on in horror, the moon mother seemed to realize what was occurring, but it was too late.

Orodan’s arms were now wrapped around its neck. The real threat it posed was endless consumption. A grave threat to anyone but him. But up close, when he had its neck in his grasp? There was only one outcome.

[Eidolon of Violence 143 → Eidolon of Violence 144]

Its head came off in a shower of dark, sickly yet oddly glowing ichor. Its statuesque body swelled further and further, the space inside the maw now rupturing outwards to occupy the material plane. And soon enough, it was but a giant moon devourer corpse the size of a dozen star systems floating in the void.

One down. Orodan pointed his sword at the other one.

“Screen my retreat!”

Vax’Tul’Qun loudly ordered, winking out of the area with a subtle usage of spatiomancy.

Coward. Orodan halfway considered pursuing but there was no telling whether his spatiomancy skill would hold up against the tyrant’s own, and chronomancy just didn’t seem to work the same way out here beyond the bounds of System space. There was no river of time.

Regardless, he had a plan to stick to and he could only hope the other assault groups were doing well in their advance thanks to the ire he’d drawn.

Vision of Purity scanned the area and he saw the battlegroup led by Azkar doing quite well. However having made his way to the rear ranks of the Invaders, he was now behind the black hole, and Vision of Purity couldn’t see through such a dense thing and out to the other side.

Most strangely, his allies were nowhere to be seen. Where had Zaessythra and Almyra gone? They were supposed to have been following and using the route they’d charted together, right?

In the absence of plans, the only course was to move forward. To that end, assisting the orcs and making entry alongside them seemed the logical move.

By the time he reached them, Azkar and his orcs had seemingly wiped out all opposition on their approach.

“Behold the mighty time looper approaches! In fear of him the enemy no longer encroaches!”

A rhythmic greeting by the larger-than-life leader of the orcs.

“Azkar. You and your lot left not a single foe for me? A shame,” Orodan lightly greeted.

The orc boisterously laughed.

“Ah but we saw how you slew one of the enemy’s tyrants and sent the other running. Truly, a display of valor any warrior should want to emulate. Why, soon enough I have no doubt you shall surpass Talasgan himself.”

The orc was laying it on a little thickly he felt, but a dire battle could make one’s inhibitions loosen and bonds of camaraderie form quicker.

“I slew most of those blue-eyed warriors and their ships. What force were you and yours engaging here?” Orodan asked. “Your assault group is farther out than I’d expect.”

A number of the orcs were wounded too, not wanting to make eye contact with him. Perhaps out of shame that they were wounded? He chalked it up to being an oddity of orcish culture. Still, a number of these warriors were quite roughed up. He saw all manner of magical wounds on them. Fire, lightning, ice, water and wind. Also alongside were bullet holes in some of them.

“We intercepted a fleet of enemy voidcraft meant to reinforce your fight farther back along the route, and during the struggle, we were separated from Talasgan and Kharadun’s groups. A shame, but we are fortunate to have encountered you and even more that you prevailed. Together, we can reclaim some of this momentum.”

Fair enough. Though the wound profile didn’t quite add up if Azkar had fought those bulky armored troops. They didn’t have any mages besides that tyrant commander of theirs. Perhaps there were more spellcasters among the enemy than Orodan had assumed.

“Very well. I shall breach the veil of this siege weapon. Follow me if it suits you.”

Orodan took point, traveling through the void approaching the enemy black hole. Their travel was slightly lengthened by the fact that the black hole was traveling away from them and toward the boundary of System space. Still, they suffered no attacks on their way which Azkar explained was due to the main enemy force now fighting within the black hole itself. Furthermore, Talasgan was quite powerful and was giving them much trouble on his end.

It was only once they approached an anchor directly that they glowed and countless moon devourers spewed forth. The swarm of these fell quickly enough to Orodan and the orcs working together. With the anchor’s defenders dead, their group was now free to enter.

Orodan passed through the protective veil of the black hole without issue. The orcs followed, though they used a specialized siege spell to punch a hole in it before entering. Unlike him, it would hurt them if they tried ramming through.

Inside, it was as he remembered. A structure which maintained a stable layer of space just beneath the surface of the black hole, essentially pressurizing it. A primer for a catastrophic explosion.

More importantly… there was no gigantic overseer crystal for this anchor. Odd.

“Huzzah! We have captured our objective! Now we-”

“I’ll be moving out to assist with the other anchors,” Orodan interrupted.

“Time looper, even with just one anchor we can reverse course. You remaining here and helping steer the enemy’s siege weapon away would be of more tactical benefit to us than marching off into further danger. Your warrior’s soul is truly respectable, but we cannot compromise the plan.”

“No. You and your forces can remain. I shall go,” he spoke, decision final.

He did not like the fact that he still knew not where his own allies were. Where was the overseer shard? Where was the rest of the battle? The Reject had not even made an appearance yet either.

“Then I shall come with you. My loyal reavers shall remain behind here to defend the anchor in our stead.”

Orodan saw no issue with this, though felt that Azkar might get himself killed in the sort of fight Orodan and Xia would engage in.

He stepped put of the anchor structure and into the area within the black hole itself.

Naturally, even he would be crushed at this point of strength if he truly entered the center of a black hole. However, so would the Invaders who needed to traverse the thing. Thus there were spatial tunnels running through the heart of it, allowing safe passage.

The two of them traversed through these tunnels for a while, and Orodan had Vision of Purity up as he did, though the sheer interference of a black hole, which was like a solid block of impenetrable rock in his vision, made the skill useless for detection. There was simply too much interference to use purity as a metric of sight. His passive ability to sense souls however, he constantly searched with.

After a while, they came to an crossroads.

“Orodan Wainwright, I believe this way might yield results,” Azkar spoke, gesturing towards one direction.

Yet… that did not seem right. Yes, there were souls that way, Orodan’s soul sense could tell as much. But it seemed uniform and none of the souls were in any state of conflict. Either they would be walking into a group of allies who had won, or an enemy ambush. On the other hand, though the distance was far… Orodan could sense souls down another path.

And these souls in particular bore pink corruption.

The hostages that had eluded him earlier.

Wordlessly, he moved down that path, keeping his sword and shield drawn.

Azkar radiated concern from his soul as he followed. Orodan wasn’t concerned.

The interior of a black hole was a lot quieter than one would expect. The tunnel walls were made of a glossy film somewhat similar in look to what the boundaries of System space were composed of, illuminated only by the light of Orodan’s own soul.

“I fear we may be walking into an enemy ambush, Orodan Wainwright.”

“Good. Then we shall fight our way out like warriors, yes?” he replied and then gave the orc a sideways glance. “Besides, the same could be said of the path you suggested earlier.”

“Hmm, that is true,” Azkar replied.

The remainder of the walk continued on until they reached a giant chamber within the very center of the black hole. It was a most ominous location and Orodan felt his soul thrum strangely just being here.

Within, were the thousand corrupted hostages the enemy had managed to evacuate. They were still knocked unconscious, his Celestial skill was not so easily bypassed at the Embodiment-level. But the overseeing man watching over them did not seem to mind that at all.

A smaller crystal of the sadistic Boundless One was present in the room as well. But Orodan had dealt with its crystals before. They were completely pitiful compared to the real thing they were Avatar of. No, the real threat in the room was the hooded and robed man watching the knocked out hostages with a serene smile. A human by the looks of it.

Upon seeing Orodan, the man smiled.

A guttural speech left his mouth.

“The destined one… no… hold…”

In a grotesque display, the man tore out his own tongue and used the blood to write something upon his forehead. And he did this while maintaining eye contact with Orodan the entire time.

Orodan felt only the briefest stir of soul energy, and then…

“There we are… much better. My apologies, my lord, my destined saviour… our hero. Long have I awaited you.”

Orodan frowned. Hero? Saviour?

“You speak my tongue?”

“No… but for you I can. A costly ritual, one only you are worthy of.”

Azkar stiffened immediately.

“Orodan Wainwright. Do not let this wicked thing speak to you in your own tongue! It is the Apostle, one of the seven tyrants! Here, I shall strike it down where it-”

At the same time, another group entered the chamber from another side.

And Orodan had confirmation enough. His sword moved.

“Orodan! He is the traitor! Azkar is-”

However, Orodan’s sword was already buried to the hilt in the War-father’s throat. Just in time before the orc’s axe would’ve caught him in the back.

The orcish Embodier gurgled, eyes wide in shock and anger.

“H-how long….?”

“Since we reached the anchor,” Orodan answered. “I’ve never been good at reading through complicated schemes. But your Reavers’ wounds? That was the first part of the puzzle which didn’t add up. And from then on, you only deepened my suspicions with each moment.”

But what Orodan did not expect was for multiple groups of people to enter right as he finished executing the War-Father on the spot.

The first to enter was the group led by Talasgan the Warrior, the Prophet alongside. The second to enter was Vax’Tul’Qun and a massive force of the Invaders. And the third entering via dimensional pathway… was the Custodian?

The hammer and orb wielding Administrator, the one who kept the internal Eldritch at bay within System space… fell through the dimensional pathway and onto the ground.

Dead.

And over its corpse stepped the true threat.

Wielding two swords and with a manic smile upon his face. The very first time looper of them all. Formerly an Administrator, rejected and fallen from favor.

The seventh tyrant. The Reject. Xia.

“Why what an absolutely packed social event we have here! In the interest of making new friends I’ve decided to invite myself to this grand old ball. Who shall I dance with first? My most traitorous and cunning mountain of a former colleague here?” he asked, giving the Warrior a mad grin. He then turned to Orodan. “Or the almighty time looper who’s caused such chaos over here? Oh I’m getting giddy with excitement!”

“Xia! You… you killed him?!” Kalmiron demanded angrily, standing alongside Almyra and Zaessythra’s battlegroup.

“Of course I did! When the cat is gone the mice come out to play, hehehe! What did you think would happen when all of you so bravely charged out to face the big bad enemy Boundless like the glorious heroes you are? Did you forget about little old me? The same Xia who you lot happily threw into that freak’s cage? Well, the joke’s on you my old friends, the Eldritch makes me perfectly suited to taking a peek inside the bowels of System space,” the Reject replied while madly laughing. “And now… all that Eldritch is going to have a grand old time spreading everywhere!”

“You have done well, Xia,” the Apostle spoke, mouth still profusely bleeding from the removal of his tongue. “With the Custodian gone, the last barrier for our God’s entry has been removed. And now… we sacrifice the mirrors one by one to the Eldritch, that the two concepts may merge and two siblings may become one again.”

With that said, the Apostle smiled at Orodan, maintaining eye contact… as he stabbed the first unconscious hostage in the chest with a special dagger. One which had purplish-gray energies coursing through it. Eldritch.

Orodan grit his teeth as the innocent sacrifice howled in pain even while unconscious. Their body becoming a hotbed for the merger between Eldritch and the innate corruption of the sadistic Boundless.

No more.

He leapt over the heads of everyone, rushing in to kill this Apostle…

…only to have two swords meet him halfway while he was midair.

The two of them were above the ground. Orodan’s soul energy keeping him afloat while whatever cultivator technique Xia was using kept him astride. Above everyone else, the two were in a weapon deadlock.

“Oh… you’re strong! I’ve never felt a time looper be so strong! What do they feed you? Hahaha!”

“Out of my way,” Orodan warned once.

“A tempting offer, let me think about it. Hmm… no.”

No parlay necessary.

“Shields!” Zaessythra warned, knowing what was about to occur.

“Barrier engineers! Deploy def-”

An absolutely ferocious trade of melee combat erupted then and there.

Zaessythra, Almyra and the Administrators were forced to take cover lest the stray shockwaves injure them. Even Talasgan was forced to at least brace. The unfortunate forces of Vax’Tul’Qun didn’t fare too well however. A good portion of them were killed on the spot.

The Reject was absolutely manic, insane, crazed.

Orodan was absolutely rage-filled, violent, aggressive.

Both of them were pure melee martial specialists from different walks of life.

It was akin to two forces of nature colliding. Yet…

…slowly but surely, Orodan was coming out on top.

A knee shattered the Reject’s ribs and had him bent over Orodan’s striking limb. Yet, the madman was smiling even as he was folded in half

“I-incredible…! So that caged monster’s final gambit really did pay off… you really are as strong as they say…”

Orodan did not let up. The furious melee between the two of them continued. Concurrently, the battle below began in earnest.

Talasgan, Kalmiron, the Prophet and Orodan’s allies fought against the Vax’Tul’Qun and his overwhelmingly numerous force of Invaders. But without the forces of Kharadun Voidfortress and the orcs, the combat was looking to be a struggle. And now that Azkar had proven himself a traitor who knew when the orcs would come barreling down one of the entrances to join the enemy?

Still, amidst the clash of blows Orodan briefly wondered why Talasgan wasn’t handling matters down there? He’d taken out at least one problematic tyrant. And the Warrior was one of the few beings who even Orodan couldn’t confidently yet say he’d beat.

Regardless, all that was ancillary to his fight against Xia.

He was gaining the upper hand, yet killing the Reject would take time. And whenever he attempted to bypass Xia to strike at the Apostle, the mad Administrator simply got in his way once more.

“I see you’re getting angry… good, good! Have I given you no face? Am I courting death? Muahahaha!”

Angry? This was just his natural expression. Orodan was no impatient child who would succumb to a cheap taunt. He lacked patience when it came to the matter of whether to commit violence. But in the midst of a fight when lives were on the line, he knew there was no room for personal frivolity.

Over the next three seconds, which may as well have been an eternity given the speeds they were fighting at, Orodan finally had the Reject cornered.

A crushing overhead blow which locked both dual swords into defense and forced the madman’s guard to buckle was then followed by a Smite of Abrupt Deliverance launched right at Xia’s chest.

The fallen Administrator howled like a crazed lunatic as he flew downwards and struck the ground of the chamber right near the Apostle. Orodan wasted no time and was a few metres away from running the sickening cultist through when his sword ran through an unintended target’s chest instead.

“Heheheh… you sure are strong… I admit, you’re probably an even better natural warrior than that big lug, no wonder he made you fight me.”

Orodan had been halfway through pulling his sword out when the words gave him pause.

“What do you mean?”

“They don’t give out a title as pretentiuos as ‘The Warrior’ without the recipient being exceptionally cunning and devious too. You on the other hand, are straight as an arrow and denser than a rock my little Wainwrighting friend, but I’m afraid this is the end for you,” the Reject coughed out blood as he spoke. “Look at you, all brave and noble, selected for the time loop… feh! Think you’re some sort of hero do you? A chosen one? Old Xia here used to be all of that and more!”

Bolts of strange ethereal lightning began flowing out of his body, forcing Orodan backwards. Notably, his Lightning Resistance did nothing to stop his flesh from charring and blackening upon contact.

“You think I wasn’t the hero? The greatest cultivator of the old world before that freak kidnapped us all… not these useless bloody numbers, but real cultivation. And what did I get for my loyal service to the System and that monster? Disgrace, exile and torment! My wife and child dead despite its false promises to bring them back! And you, a freak, hand-crafted by my tormentor, are the symbol of every injustice I have suffered. You think you know power? No… let me show you what real power is,” the man gutturally spoke, his voice beginning to turn almost divine, as though multiple people were speaking through him. “Supreme Dao of the Heavens, hear me! Let your chosen son Xia, wield your strength once more!”

One moment Orodan was standing upon his own two feet. The next, he was buried in the wall of the gigantic chamber, the entirety of the black hole they were within shaking from the force.

He tried to get up, he did. But two dual swords impaled into his chest, keeping him pinned down. A familiar position.

“You have defied Heaven’s will, mortal. The tribulation has come to strike you down.”

Whatever spoke, that wasn’t the Reject.

But Orodan refused to bow before anything. Despite the fact that it was a bad idea, that more skill levels would onbly bring him nearer to something truly bad… there were hostages being infected with Eldritch, howling in agony. This could not stand.

So he flared Incipience of Infinity to the maximum.

[Incipience of Infinity 186 → Incipience of Infinity 187]

A flash of a limitless white void flitted across his vision. The howling of the hostages intensified.

The feeling of dread and approaching doom within him grew greater. How had a skill level come so quick? Something was very wrong with this situation, with this place.

Still, the sheer power rolling off him seemed to push the cosmic lightning back and force Xia to step off him.

“You dare defy Heaven with cosmic power of your own, mortal?” the Reject’s booming cosmic voice rang out. Though it was no longer that madman. The now glowing blue eyes peered closer at him, as though examining his soul. “What a curious thing… can that concept truly exist in anything? What are you?”

Frankly, unless he called upon enough power to outright kill himself, Orodan wasn’t sure how he was meant to stand against this foe at all. Even now, he yet lived only because it was curious, not because he had meaningfully contested it. It was as though he stood before something akin to a Boundless One. The closest parallel he could draw was the sadistic Boundless One’s crystals, but those were almost infinitely weaker.

This was a truly powerful host, possessed by what appeared to be some form of grand… concept?

Was this what would become of him?

Mindless, stripped of autonomy and puppeteered by the concepts of Infinity and Cleanliness?

The Avatar of the Heavenly Dao—for this was Xia no longer—looked as though it had finished whatever internal delibration it had been making. Its eyes glowed brighter, the cosmic thunder erupting from its eyes.

“We have decided, abnormal mortal, that you are to be assimilated into the Dao of the Heavens. Do not resist lest you incur bad karma.”

Assimilated? That didn’t sound good.

“Try it, and see what happens,” Orodan spat.

The last few cosmic beings who had tried assimilating him had not fared very well. Though who knew how a concept would fare, complicated further by his own two which were nearing the peak of Embodiment.

Yet, before the Avatar of the Heavenly Dao could go any further…

…a knife found it in the back.

A knife wielded an Administrator. An Eldritch-corrupted one.

“No! What have you done? Argh! The rot is incompatible with the Dao of Heaven!”

“Orodan Wainwright, now is your chance!” the Prophet exclaimed. “Slay the Apostle. Your allies will aid you as well!

The Avatar of the Heavenly Dao was now writhing on the ground, and Orodan could see the blue eyes warring with grayish-purple. Immediately he could see what was occurring. Xia had always been corrupted, but had maintained a certain balance with it. But for the Prophet to come in and stab him with an infected dagger while in Avatar state… it must’ve been catastrophic for the governing concept which possessed the Reject’s body.

Was this what the Apostle planned to do between the Eldritch Boundless and the evil one beyond System space? Orodan’s eyes widened as he realized what the ritual was really for. This needed to be stopped. It was a dastardly plan to merge two Boundless by force.

And if the enemy Boundless managed to enter the bowels of System space via this merger… catastrophe would occur. Who knew if even the loops would be safe from its tampering?

Even the approach to that damned Apostle was now blocked by enemies. Those anomalies which he’d fought off a while back were among them, but of note was the crystal, gleaming with pink-hued power, an extension of the sadistic Boundless One. And as expected, Azkar’s Reavers were in league with the enemy, given the sudden surge of orcish warriors entering through the tunnel Orodan had come in from.

Kalmiron was helping his allies fend off the Invaders and the Prophet stood beside him combatting the enemies in his direct path to the Apostle.

A true carnage-filled battlefield.

“Orodan! A moment longer! We have something which should help!” Zaessythra shouted across the chamber, holding off the near unending tides of Invader troops.

He decided to trust her and instead focused on the foe before him.

“Anomalous thing… will you not join our union? With you… the limits will end permanently… an eternal union of Eldritch, Suffering and Infinity.”

Orodan had no interest in joining this wicked Boundless One’s sadistic union. There were no words which needed exchanging as he began fighting the anomalies and the crystal, with the Prophet aiding him.

The crystal struck him with pink beams, but he simply reciprocated and shattered it. It was no real threat. The anomalies too, he slew swiftly via Eidolon of Violence, surprising them with the versatility of his skill in their final moments.

And just as his allies looked to be getting overwhelmed… Almyra finished the spell she had been preparing.

The dimensional ring upon her finger expanded in size…

…and out came the small fleet his assault group came with which he hadn’t seen since. And with it, the flagship, now lacking any and all obscuration spells.

Within it… the ancient machine of Mount Castarian.

“They brought that?” Orodan muttered, incredulous.

And right away Almyra showed exactly why keeping the machine hidden had been the correct trump card. For a dimensional gateway between the machine’s core and Alastaia opened…

…and out came a charging green goblin wielding spear and shield.

“For Alastaia! For the Rising Spear tribe! For my teacher Orodan Wainwright!”

Following him came all of the alliance’s troops troops, brave fighters all. What they lacked in quality, they made up for with their sudden arrival and quantity.

It made Orodan’s heart clench to see a large number of them immediately slaughtered, but certain people immediately changed the tide of the fight.

The first being Fenton, accompanied by Clyburn. They brought out that same anti-memetic pillar which they’d been trialling for a while now.

Immediately, every information-based enemy on the field shrieked and began getting sucked inwards and into the pillar, being eradicated permanently.

But the second device was the more profound one.

It was… the pillar of purification? The same one he’d helped Fenton and Clyburn build upon Lonvoron!

It looked different though.

With the flick of a switch, Orodan understood how it differed.

Vax’Tul’Qun and the other tyrants on the field immediately fell to the ground and began writhing in pain. The sadistic corruption within… it was being purified!

Orodan had been too preoccupied in combat, pressured by powerful foes, to do so himself. But with this pillar things had turned immediately.

Even the crystal of the sadistic Boundless One began showing cracks in its exterior, shrieking in pain.

It didn’t seem to affect the Eldritch either, leaving Xia still twitching and dealing with the fallout of Eldritch clashing with the Heavenly Dao on a stage beyond his body.

“Our chance has come! Charge forth and strike, Orodan Wainwright!” the Prophet shouted. “I shall cover your- urk!”

Eleven feet of dark metal tore through the Prophet from behind. A follow-up cleave from the greatsword decapitated it.

Orodan did not in general like the zealot… but he had respected it. This… was unacceptable.

“Talasgan…” Orodan growled.

The true traitor it seemed…

…had been the Warrior all along.

“Come quietly, Orodan Wainwright. Your modification of the time loops has caused all this,” the Administrator declared.

“Cunning… having me fight everyone first before you try to take me on,” he spat in return, having lost all respect.

“I felt your strength when we clashed in Glyphward… but more importantly… your rate of growth. If I do not stop you now, we shall never be able to return to more peaceful times.”

“Peace? With Eldritch taint spreading everywhere? Even before I was made the time looper the System was no haven.”

“But it was a haven under our control. A control which you now threaten. Come peacefully, leave the Apostle be. Do not make me ask again. Even if the black hole explodes and the boundary is destroyed, we shall have more than enough time to reverse your changes and reset the loop… even without the Custodian helping.”

“No.”

“Then do not blame me for cutting your loop short!”

The greatsword descended at full power.

Orodan’s sword met it with his own might.

The clash sent everyone in the chamber reeling. All surrounding battles stopped as the deadliest melee in System history occurred before the eyes of all.

Talasgan was strong. He had been stronger even when they’d fought unarmed. But Orodan was the better natural and grew faster. Yet now, for the first time, the Warrior’s own Celestial skill came out.

Orodan intended to strike one way…

…only for the natural war within him to guide his blade right towards the greatsword.

Ten, twenty, thirty times this occurred repetitively.

“Tch! You force head-on trades… a beautiful skill,” he admitted grudgingly.

“And you…” Talasgan growled as the blades collided once more in a strength-for-strength contest. “Are the strongest warrior I have ever fought in my entire existence! Die already! Spare everyone a horrid fate!”

Logically, the Warrior was not unreasonable for doing what he did. Orodan had caused a lot of problems. Even now, logically, he truly should’ve ended the loop for himself.

But he had a feeling none of the Invaders present, especially the sadistic Boundless One, was about to allow him that option.

Still, this fight was taking precious time. And the Apostle, that eerie cult leader, had not at all changed in demeanor or loyalty despite being cleansed of the sadistic Boundless One’s taint via the pillar of purification.

A true zealot, even when entirely human.

“Stand down! Allow me to end this! Even your mightiest attack will no longer slay me in a single blow!” Orodan countered. “If I kill the Apostle, I ruin their plans on the spot!”

“No! That is what they want you to think! Do you not realize that this entire ritual is a mirror and amplifier for con-”

Talasgan was cut off by two dual-blades swinging for his neck.

“We had an agreement! You and yours were supposed to deliver him to me so that we could reverse this mad modification he has done to the time loops!” Talasgan roared.

“Tut tut tut! Your deal was with my orcish friend, not I! And how was I to know the little Wainwright would be so strong?” Xia maniacally retorted, sounding as though ten of him were speaking at once with the lingering power of the Cosmic Dao of the Heavens possessing him. He had returned to his own body, but did not look good in the slightest. “In the end… I just wanted to break your stupid little plan and hurt you. Just like you betrayed me and threw me to the abyss!

The Apostle stabbed the last hostage with Eldritch. And Orodan had seen enough.

With Xia occupying the Warrior, Orodan had a clean shot.

Soul energy blazed through his sword. The Apostle was entirely human and untainted now and thus required no cleansing.

“Do not! Orodan!”

His sword ran the tyrant through the heart.

And calamity began.

[Incipience of Infinity 187 → Incipience of Infinity 190]

What? What was…?

The sacrifices howled. Their minds blank mirrors for anything, any notion strong enough… any concept powerful enough. And Orodan fielded a very domineering concept within himself.

His body began blazing. Genesis of Life providing the perfect fuel for Infinity to rise without ending his life.

“Hahahah! Now enjoy! I hear the birth of a new Boundless One is quite the spectacle… ah…. to die with such entertainment!” Xia maniacally declared.

New Boundless One?

[Incipience of Infinity 190 → Incipience of Infinity 192]

Infinity’s eyes blazed with endless power.

Suffering demanded Infinity submit to it.

Infinity needed no master. Infinity immediately burned all traces of Suffering from the black sphere they were all within.

Infinity was the master of all, even the form it controlled.

Orodan’s eyes went from blazing white, to normal.

Orodan was his own master!

[Incipience of Infinity 192 → Incipience of Infinity 194]

Infinity’s body glowed with limitless might.

Infinity by nature demanded no bounds.

The glow from Orodan’s body subsided and his muscles flexed with a fighter’s hard-earned strength.

Orodan by nature placed bounds upon himself for discipline and ethos was what made a warrior!

[Incipience of Infinity 194 → Incipience of Infinity 196]

Infinity was endless, absolute!

Orodan was unyielding, resolute!

[Incipience of Infinity 196 → Incipience of Infinity 198]

Infinity was-

Orodan Wainwright would not break.

He would not.

He could not!

He reached into his own soul and began tearing Infinity’s throat out.

He couldn’t lose…

…not like this.

[Incipience of Infinity 198 → Incipience of Infinity 199]

Orodan roared, desperately fighting to retain himself.

In the end, he didn’t notice the salvation which came in the form a half-dragon stabbing him in the heart, a mage draping a Mantle over his head and a dimensional gateway leading to the bowels of the System where an Eldritch Boundless dealt the finishing blow.

#

A keening wail ringing in the night sky awoke him.

Infinity was-

He bit his own tongue off.

Orodan was awake, alive and himself.

And for once, he allowed the half-dragon fist to collide with his jaw.

He wasn’t sure if he could be knocked out or even sleep anymore.

But he certainly wished and tried oh so desperately.