Arthur was tired.
His feet weighed more than they should. His right arm had just finished regenerating. His head was overloaded with thoughts and emotions he had hoped never to experience in his life.
Sylvie was not by his side, and Regis was in his core, absorbing the few drops of Aether he had left in reserve.
His essence was on the verge of running out, but even so, he forced himself to take one more step, and then the next. And another. Until he could finally leave this place.
But at the same time, his pathetic state was what helped him go unnoticed—because there were creatures where he was. That was why he kept a low profile and suppressed his Aether sense completely.
What would be the point?
He had already tried to extend his Aether sense into the mist, but he couldn't sense anything. It was as if… nothing existed beyond the veil of mist.
Quite literally.
But that didn't scare him, in any case, among all the misfortunes he had experienced in the past five months since returning from his Second Nightmare, this could be one of the few positive things that had happened to him.
He was not nothing.
He was not nobody.
He was Arthur. He was Paragon of Purity. He was Ellie's brother. He was Alice and… and Reynolds's son. But he had also been Grey. He was a Sacred being living in the body of an Ascended. He had killed two avatars of the gods.
He was a [Singular Existence].
And as one, he was not afraid of nothing.
[You exist as a singularity within reality. Your presence cannot be replicated, substituted, or overwritten by the world. However, what is singular cannot fully belong. The more firmly you exist, the more distant everything else becomes.]
Everything around him was nothing. But he was something, and that was enough.
His Aspect made him immune to the mist in the Hollow Mountains—and that was exactly where he was.
But being immune didn't mean he suffered no consequences. He couldn't see anything; the mist clouded his vision. He didn't even know which direction to go.
Still, it wasn't hard to determine where north was.
He only had to look at the ground.
The terrain beneath his feet had a slope… going down meant returning to the Chained Isles; going up meant venturing deeper into the Hollow Mountains.
He rubbed his face, sighed, and began to climb the slope.
The silence was so absolute it was almost deafening. He couldn't see—he closed his eyes now—but the strangest thing of all was the impossibility of feeling Aether in the environment.
He had already forgotten what it was like to perceive the world without his Aether sense. He used it for everything now. But even if his head weren't full of such complicated emotions and feelings, he still wouldn't be able to sense anything.
Aether is everything, while Nothingness is its complete opposite.
They oppose one another, yet do not deny each other.
Something can exist within nothingness, just as nothingness can exist within something.
And that was exactly what Arthur was doing—he was existing within the nothingness. He was taking step after step, but none of those steps were moving him away from the real truth that tormented him.
He was hurt.
He was drowning in guilt.
He was cursing every decision he had made since returning from his Second Nightmare.
Maybe he could have come back sooner?
That wouldn't have changed anything positively—it would have made everything that happened even worse.
Could he have done something differently?
Surely yes. Things can always be done differently, but nothing guarantees that you won't end up with the same result.
Arthur kept walking, and the slopes beneath his feet became steeper and steeper, the environment colder and colder. If these were ordinary mountains, they would already be covered in snow. But in this unsettling place, the hidden immensity of rock remained barren, with only mist spreading across its surface.
There were no ruins hidden in the mist, no trace of living beings that had once been there. No sound, no signs of danger. Yet he tried to stay as alert as possible—as he had throughout the entire Antarctic campaign. He didn't believe for an instant that there were no abominations hidden in the mist. After all, perhaps some were strong enough to withstand the pull of Nothingness.
He ventured deeper into the mountains, with nothing to do but think.
But that was the last thing he wanted to do… Antarctica.
That had been… he wouldn't know how to define it.
The only thing he could say was that he ended up very disappointed with everything.
With the Great Clans and their inaction during the campaign, and also with what they planned to do afterward. With the number of lives lost during it. But more importantly… with himself.
For not being strong enough.
If he had been, Sylvie wouldn't be hurt in her egg form inside his Soul Sea. Regis wouldn't be in his core, clinging to the smallest amount of Aether to keep from disappearing.
And more importantly, his… his.
Arthur shook his head.
'Don't think about that. There's still a way.'
In fact, there was still a way to fix it. One of the things Grey had given him before finishing his training was a Keystone, and he had already deciphered it.
[Aroa's Requiem].
His new relic allowed him to do things he never could have imagined. It was an incredible power.
This should have brought him joy, but it was another thing that ended up weighing on his conscience. Having the power to use something like that, but not the opportunity to do so, hurt. It hurt like the most painful thing in the world.
Unconsciously, his jaw clenched, and he ground his teeth.
Clan Song or Clan Valor… it didn't matter. Both Sovereigns were the same. They didn't care about the well-being of humans. If anything, they were violent and greedy, willing to kill or start a war to get what they wanted.
They were pathetic.
And that was why they had to die.
They had grown satisfied with their powers and didn't seek to become stronger. What would they do when the consequences of everything that happened in Antarctica appeared? When thousands upon thousands of new Awakened, Ascended, and even Saints emerged… would they suppress them again?
That was no longer possible. The state of the Waking World was getting worse and worse. The number of Nightmare Gates opening increased over time, and their categories with them.
What would they do when a Category 5 Gate opened again, as had happened in North America? What would they do when Cursed and Unholy creatures were drawn to the scent of millions of souls in the Dream Realm?
Would being Supreme even be enough for that?
Arthur wouldn't bet on it.
But he would bet on himself.
That was why he had decided to venture into the Hollow Mountains instead of returning to the Waking World and risking a visit from one of Valor's Saints. That was why he had left the Chained Isles as soon as he emerged from the Relictombs, and why he hadn't returned to Ravenheart.
He had to become stronger.
So months passed, and then… a few more months. His Aspect, and more than anything, his will to keep living and become stronger, made him continue walking through the mist, completely surrounded by Nothingness.
As the months passed, Arthur managed to escape the attention of powerful abominations on several occasions. Much of it was due to luck, but a great deal was also thanks to his Attribute [Djinn of War].
The Attribute had a trait called [Runes]:
[Runes]: This armor projects the effects the wearer desires.
Since it was an Attribute not related to Aether for its activation, he could keep it active with his essence.
The trait allowed him to project any kind of effect outward that Arthur wanted—but to do so, he had to know how to write that effect in runes. Not just any runes, like those of Hope's sorcery.
Djinn runes.
Fortunately, he had a dictionary precisely for that type of rune. So using these, he commanded the Attribute to make himself as insignificant as possible.
Most creatures simply ignored him, while the less intelligent ones didn't even notice he was there.
This didn't stop him from encountering one or two creatures the deeper he ventured into the Hollow Mountains, but when he did, he never looked at them. He didn't even know what they looked like, or if they had any appearance at all.
Whispers of forgotten voices, echoes of extinguished laments… surrounded him on all sides, floating in the mist. Arthur kept his eyes tightly shut, praying that those sinister beings would pass by without noticing his presence. Somehow, he knew that if one saw him, he wouldn't survive.
Even with his Aspect and the armor generating that effect, he was only an Ascended Titan. Nothing more.
Finally, after what could have been mere months or even years, Arthur began to perceive the mist growing thinner. The more steps he took, the finer it became, until, from one moment to the next, the mist was gone… but an absolute darkness took its place.
After all this time, he had returned to the Forgotten Shore.
The change for Arthur was like breathing again after holding his breath for a long time.
From one moment to the next, the wounds he had suffered and accumulated during the journey began to heal at an incredible rate. His Aether sense returned to normal, expanding for kilometers.
He felt as if life had returned to his body.
Then, he changed the armor's effect and, using runes of light, commanded it to shine. Moments later, the absolute darkness of the Forgotten Shore was no longer present, and he could see a few meters ahead.
So he took another step, and those steps turned into days. That was how long it took him to descend from the Hollow Mountains and leave the dark slopes behind, finally setting foot on the Forgotten Shore again.
Arthur remained motionless for a while, gazing into the distance with a strange expression on his face.
The lack of light, the lack of sound, the lack of life… it was a land of death.
He took a few more steps, eventually finding a small cave, and after pulling a mattress from the [Bound Vault], he let himself fall onto it.
His eyes closed immediately, and sleep embraced him deeply.
***
Arthur slept for several days straight. His body was tired, and his mind—even with the help of being surrounded by Aether again—felt heavy. Every thought was difficult to formulate.
During the journey, he had allowed himself very few chances to sleep. In fact, he would say he never really slept. He simply rested for a few moments and then continued his journey.
For one year and a half, following that routine, even if he had slept for an entire month, he would have believed it wasn't enough.
Even so, he got up, put away the mattress, and continued walking.
As contradictory as it sounded, he wasn't in a hurry.
All his loved ones knew he was alive—he had made sure of that—and those who knew this were in good hands.
Anyway, he could have already taken Sylvie out of her egg so she could fly him around or at least keep him company, but he didn't want her to see him in this state.
Obviously, what he was doing was selfish, but couldn't he allow himself to be a little selfish after so long?
Arthur kept moving. First, he headed to the Dark City, arriving a week later.
Everything there was just as he and Sunny had left it. All the creatures were dead, and he forced himself not to think about his friend's condition.
Then, he headed to the remains of the Crimson Spire, and just a few days later, he was there.
Arthur stood before the tomb they had built with Sunny and Saint for the Dreamer Army.
He remembered how he had felt during that time, and he couldn't help but notice that in both situations, his feeling of powerlessness never disappeared.
In both moments, he blamed himself for not being strong enough to save more lives.
What good was having a Divine Aspect, a bunch of incredible Memories, and an Aspect like his if, when the moment was important, he never managed to save them?
Arthur swallowed and turned westward.
That was his next destination.
But before taking even a single step, a realization entered his mind, and he couldn't help but let out a laugh.
'That bastard had it all planned from the beginning.'
It was embarrassing to realize it only recently, but Grey had manipulated his Flaw.
Arthur now remembered that during the time he trained with Grey, at one point, Grey had asked him what his world currently looked like, and he had obviously told him everything. But the most important part was when he started narrating how the land was divided.
He spoke about NQSC, the Eastern Quadrant, and the Western Quadrant, ending with the Southern Quadrant.
And precisely in the latter, he mentioned that Antarctica was the second most populated continent after Asia, the logistical link between the rest of the continents, connecting both hemispheres, and finally mentioned that it was very cold.
Right then, Grey said:
"You can't go to Antarctica."
Arthur hadn't felt anything at that moment and simply replied, "Why would I? Like I said, it's too cold."
He didn't even register that it counted as an order, and since he had no formed opinion on the matter of going to Antarctica or not, his Flaw remained in a passive state, storing the last order he had been given until he formed an opinion.
Obviously, he later did, and even without his Flaw, he would have gone. But it was Grey's way of ensuring he would go to Antarctica.
He hadn't noticed it at the time, but at the very beginning, Grey gave him many orders about his runes and what to do in training—orders he accepted since he knew they were positive for him. After that, he simply stopped.
Who in their right mind wouldn't follow a piece of advice given in the form of an order by a Sacred-rank being?
'Well… maybe Sunny.'
If anything, that further proved the point—mentioning "right mind" and Sunny in the same sentence didn't go hand in hand.
'The Devil of Antarctica.'
Arthur laughed under his breath.
Then he deigned to move west, since the map Grey had left him demanded he move in that direction, and so he did.
He walked—and even ran—the entire way, stopping briefly to eat and drink water every few days. After a few days of travel, he stood on the hill that separated the area from the labyrinth, preventing the Dark Sea from reaching it.
Fortunately, in this zone, there was light.
In the blue sky, a natural sun could be seen, illuminating the entire terrain. The latter had not changed at all since the last time he had traveled through it.
It was an open plain stretching for kilometers, completely deserted. No trees, no buildings, no rivers. Absolutely nothing. The only things visible were marks on the ground, as if something—or someone—had fought there. There were also craters, but they didn't look natural, as if they had been formed by the impact of something massive.
He remembered how excited he had been to find his first relic that time, and in a sense, he had found something even more valuable than a relic.
From that moment on, Sylvie had taken a large piece of his heart and claimed it for herself. She was like a sister, or almost like a daughter if one considered that she was born because of decisions he had made.
She was still in his Soul Sea, and he had no intention of taking her out yet. Mainly because he knew that in this zone, there was a Corrupted Tyrant and its minions.
He was already strong enough to face them, and besides, Regis should be waking up soon—or perhaps the lazy one was already awake and just didn't want to come out.
Either way, he changed the armor's runes and left them empty. Then, he ran across the terrain again.
The first time he had been in this zone, he was a Sleeper, and even then, he was only a Beast with just under two hundred fragments. Now he was an Ascended Titan.
What had taken him three days took him mere hours.
Before nightfall, Arthur was already on the outskirts of the city, and at that moment, he saw them again.
Simple Dormant Beasts roamed the area.
Arthur didn't even bother to camouflage his presence or anything—it would have been pointless. In fact, he did the opposite: he focused as much as possible on making himself noticeable.
The faster the creatures came to him and he could kill them all, the faster he would find out why the hell Grey had sent him back to this place.
He already had a theory, though…
The Dormant Beasts had humanoid forms, but their proportions were wrong. Their arms were too long, their torsos too narrow, and their movements clumsy, almost uncoordinated, as if they weren't used to their own bodies. They advanced with irregular steps, dragging one foot slightly as they ran toward him.
At a glance, he could count around fifty, or even more. Not that it would make a difference.
He had already recovered all his essence, so he wasn't worried about that. However, he was very low on fragments in his Titan Core, so he wasn't going to use any Aether-related Attributes.
When the first creature was a few meters away, he jumped and landed in the center of the fifty Dormant Beasts. His landing caused the ground to shift erratically, making the nearest Dormant Beasts fall to the ground.
At that moment, he activated his Ascended Ability, channeling a moderate amount of essence.
[King's Presence] activated over the Dormant Beasts.
From one moment to the next, a different aura began to emanate from him. The air grew heavier, making the more distant Beasts fall to their knees—or whatever they had as knees—on the ground.
The closest ones let out muffled sounds as the air pressure crushed their weak bodies against the ground.
Soon, Arthur began to hear the sound of bones breaking, and it wasn't long before the first victim fell.
[You have slain a Dormant Beast: Garl of Unnamed Blood.]
He no longer cared whether they had names or not, whether they had once been human or not. They were Nightmare Creatures and needed to die.
The Spell continued sounding fifty times in his head as he deactivated his ability.
Then, as if nothing had happened, Arthur continued on his way toward the city, leaving fifty corpses on the ground.
A few minutes later, the city began to come into view as the terrain sloped slightly. The architecture was crude and functional. Low buildings, stone blocks without adornments, without color, without visible symbols. Everything seemed built with a single purpose: to endure. Every wall, every corner, was there because it served a function.
He continued using the same method as he ventured deeper into the city.
The sun continued shining for him.
After a while, the buildings began to change. Now they were more elegant. The houses were in better condition. The walls were still bare stone, without colors or symbols, but they no longer showed deep cracks or eroded edges.
The structures were sturdier, more even. The streets widened enough to walk without brushing both sides, and the ground was more level, less irregular.
The deeper Arthur moved into it, the larger the streets became. Houses that once stood side by side now had courtyards, more space between them, more privacy.
He remembered that on his first visit, he had moved by hiding in the shadows to avoid being noticed, but this time was different. The creatures now were mere Awakened Beasts.
Their silhouettes were similar to the previous ones, but their bodies were different. They were taller—probably around three meters in height—with much more mass, much more weight. Their movements were controlled, refined. Where the others wandered without direction, these showed intent behind every motion. Moreover, they began to move in pairs.
It was clearly the work of the Corrupted Tyrant.
Now Arthur manifested a completely purple sword in his hand. The sword was identical to Dawn's Ballad, but it was formed entirely from ambient Aether.
He created it using his Awakened Ability: [Aether Manipulation].
Then, another sword appeared at waist height, and another beside his shoulder. From one moment to the next, six new swords surrounded his body.
He began to run after applying two augmentations to his body, and what followed was a complete massacre. None of the creatures really had a chance to do anything. Arthur moved with a speed and precision impossible for them.
Minutes later, the corpses of nearly thirty Awakened Beasts lay scattered on the ground. Their limbs strewn along the street, the walls painted with their blood.
Arthur, for his part, didn't have a single drop of blood on his armor. So he continued on his way.
During the journey, he continued encountering more Awakened Beasts and eventually the occasional Demon or Fallen Monster. He only cared about killing the Fallen with Dawn's Ballad, while the other creatures were killed by his Aether swords.
The city was enormous, stretching out over a completely ridiculous distance. In terms of size, it reminded him mainly of NQSC and one other city.
The structures grew sturdier the deeper he ventured, all serving different purposes now, and they were clearly upper-class.
Most houses consisted of several floors, and between them or combined, they expanded into balconies with large windows. In front or to the sides, there was always a private plot of land enclosed by stone fences marking the boundaries.
Details Arthur paid little attention to as he continued making his way toward the city's interior.
His pace compared to his first time was very different—obviously much faster—but even so, night eventually fell over the city.
Then, darkness embraced him.
Deciding to rest, he found a sufficiently isolated building and decided to use it as a hideout for the night.
Instead of sleeping, he meditated throughout the night, eventually losing all sense of time and only realizing it was morning when the sun's rays began to enter through the windows, hitting his face.
Arthur stretched slightly and continued on his way.
Eventually, he made it. The views changed again.
The streets, though still enormous, now had a clearer purpose. They created paths that followed patterns, guiding him toward walls. These were made of dark stone reinforced with polished metal, extending from side to side, blocking access to the city center.
In front of one of the entrances was a sign carved directly into the stone. The language was ancient, but this language was no longer a problem for Arthur.
The runes read:
Central Domain Academy
Everything was in perfect condition, as if time itself had no place inside. Beyond the walls, the buildings were different. Their design followed an elegant and solid pattern.
Arthur let out a sigh and crossed over.
The sensation changed immediately.
The noise from the outer city almost completely disappeared. The space felt isolated, separated from the rest of the world. There were no large avenues, but rather wide, sheltered streets, inner courtyards, structures that invited one to stop and rest for a while.
He obviously didn't do that. He knew what creatures were in this place. So he decided to head to the building's rooftop.
Once on the roof, he lowered his gaze. His golden eyes scanned the creatures with veteran precision. Then, he changed his eyes.
Not in a literal sense—he used one of the techniques Grey had taught him, and now, as he observed the Fallen Devils, he could perfectly see their four corruption-filled cores.
Arthur was about to let out a sigh when, at that moment, a new figure decided to appear beside him.
Emerging from his core after absorbing enough Aether, Regis stood next to him.
"Damn, we barely get out of one problem and you've already gotten yourself into another, princess?"
Arthur turned his head and focused on Regis. Now that he had Ascended, the latter had taken another form.
Now Regis looked like a black wolf with horns protruding from his head, each twisting like a knotted branch until ending in a sharp point behind his ears.
Eventually, he replied with a smile: "Welcome back, sleeping beauty."
"Beauty? I think the word you're looking for is 'majestic,'" he answered back.
Arthur shook his head. "There's nothing majestic about you, Regis."
"What are you talking about?" he replied quickly, then pointed to his horns. "Look how big my horns are!"
Arthur blinked.
"Why do you care about how big your horns are?"
"Why do human males care so much about how big their genitals are?"
Arthur raised his hands. "Sorry I asked."
Then he turned his focus back to the Fallen Devils. He already knew the patterns of these creatures. Every time he stopped watching one, another immediately replaced it, creating a perfect synchronization that could only be orchestrated by a Corrupted Tyrant or something greater.
Throughout the Antarctic campaign, he had killed several Corrupted creatures, but none had been a Tyrant.
Luckily since Tyrants relied heavily on their minions, their physical bodies weren't as strong as some Devils. Of course, there were always exceptions.
"I can count about a dozen Fallen Devils in this area, but there are many more around," he said.
Regis chuckled.
"A dozen Fallen Devils, huh… rookie numbers."
"Indeed."
"So what's the plan, then? Go down there and kill them on the spot?" Regis asked, already knowing the answer.
Arthur nodded, and Dawn's Ballad appeared in his hand. Then he said, "You take care of the ones on the right, and I'll take the ones on the left." Then he added, "Don't go all out. There's a Corrupted Tyrant for us to deal with afterward."
"Good. I wanted to stretch my legs a bit anyway," Regis said, leaping forward and landing directly on top of one of the Fallen Devils.
Arthur stood for a few seconds, watching Regis tear the Devil's head off with a single bite.
These were even larger and more solid than the Awakened in the city, but they were still on the lower end of what a Fallen Devil could be.
Seconds later, the Spell spoke in his ear.
[You have slain a Fallen Devil: Felix of Astor Blood.]
'I want to stretch my legs a bit too,' Arthur thought.
The next moment, he channeled all his augmentations into his body and activated [Godstep], immediately feeling the Aetheric pathways allowing him to manipulate his body until it became an ethereal vibration capable of gliding through space at nearly instantaneous speed.
The fragment cost of using Godstep depended heavily on how long he stayed in those Aetheric pathways, what materials he passed through, and a host of other factors—environmental pressure, the presence of other powerful entities, and countless more. Therefore, Arthur had never been able to calculate the exact cost, but either way, it wasn't light.
A release of purple lightning-like tendrils of Aether trailed behind him as Arthur appeared directly behind the Fallen Devil.
At the same time, he channeled some of his essence into [King's Presence], leaving the Devil no time to react, and Dawn's Ballad traced a horizontal arc, severing its head from its neck.
The Spell spoke to him immediately:
[You have slain a Fallen Devil: Dens of Beaufort Blood.]
Immediately after the Spell spoke, it spoke again—this time for a kill by Regis.
[You have slain a Fallen Devil: Herts of Martoit Blood.]
Arthur used Godstep again and appeared behind another creature, following the same technique. King's Presence activated slightly, but this time, the Devil managed to turn around.
Arthur took a step back, dodging an attack from another Devil that had joined the fight. Now it was two against one, but his head was cool. He had learned to cut off his emotions during a fight some time ago, allowing him to fight with more efficiency.
He took another step back and immediately dodged another attack aimed at his head. Now it was three against one.
Arthur used Godstep again, this time taking him behind the last Devil that had been pursuing him. The latter immediately turned with a speed that would be impossible for a Fallen-rank creature.
Even so, Arthur used Static Void right there.
But not on the nearest creature. He used Godstep again, appearing in front of the last creature and tracing a vertical attack.
Dawn's Ballad cut perfectly through the Fallen Devil, splitting it in two.
He released Static Void and faced the remaining Fallen Devils again, but even under the Tyrant's direction, they weren't even able to scratch him.
First, his armor was ridiculously resistant, and second, they were weak.
Eventually, all the nearby Fallen Devils lay on the ground, and Regis calmly approached, wiping the creatures' blood from his body.
"That was a fine warm-up," he said proudly.
"Indeed," Arthur added. "We're going to have to find the Tyrant."
Regis finished cleaning himself off. "Oh, you know how those are… this one's probably hiding like a coward."
Arthur expanded his Aether sense and noticed a horde of other Fallen Devils approaching them, along with some of the Awakened Demons or Fallen Monsters from outside the Academy heading their way.
"I suppose we're going to have to force it to come out, then?"
Beside him, Regis grinned, baring his fangs.
"Finally… now it's getting fun."
The Academy turned into a complete massacre.
Arthur advanced slowly among the ruins while Dawn's Ballad remained firm in his hand, and multiple Aether swords began to form around him—some floating beside his hips, others over his shoulders, pointing backward. Every movement of his was clean, precise, and absurdly efficient.
The Fallen Devils that tried to approach ended up cut down before they even understood what had happened.
Sometimes Arthur simply disappeared using Godstep, reappearing behind a creature to split it in half before vanishing again in flashes of violet. Other times, he stopped the flow of combat for an instant with Static Void, letting time resume only to reveal dismembered bodies falling to the ground. Finally, for those that were only Awakened, he used his King's Presence.
Regis, on the other hand, was pure savagery.
He launched himself directly at the hordes, using claws and fangs to tear monsters apart with terrifying brutality. He tore out throats, crushed limbs, and pierced through creatures like a wild beast.
Blood began to cover the entire ground.
And yet…
The Tyrant still hadn't appeared—or so Arthur had originally thought.
Moments after the last Fallen Devil present fell to the ground, a new presence made itself known throughout the Academy's front courtyard.
Arthur slowly lifted his gaze.
Something was walking toward them from inside the main building.
The creature bore a resemblance to the previous ones. Its humanoid figure was still present, but it was much taller than the others. The Tyrant stood over four meters high. Its arms were still long, but now they were also far too thick.
Its torso was as narrow as the others, but it now gave it a different presence. It was definitely not physically weak, as they had previously thought.
Its head was small for its body size, tilted uncomfortably to one side. It had no visible eyes—only a black cavity that ran across the entire upper part of its face.
Regis stopped smiling.
"Oh… okay. This one does look annoying."
The Tyrant took a step, and the entire main structure of the Academy was destroyed. The ceiling collapsed in on itself, creating the illusion that it was part of the creature itself.
Then it finished emerging from the building, and now Arthur saw it at its full height. The Tyrant stood over six meters tall. Its body was enormous…
But Arthur had seen Goliath, and then the Winter Beast.
Next to those two Titans, this Tyrant was nothing—understandable with the Winter Beast, but Goliath had been a Fallen and imposed more fear.
The Corrupted Tyrant took another step, and the ground cracked beneath its weight. Then it launched one of its long arms toward him.
Arthur reacted immediately, using Godstep to get out of the way.
His body moved instantly to the top of one of the building's rubble piles just as the arm impacted where he had been a moment before. The explosion destroyed part of the ground and kicked up a cloud of dust.
Regis leaped directly toward the creature's head, covering his claws in violet flames.
The Tyrant raised its other arm and struck the air.
The impact hit Regis square on and sent him flying several meters into a destroyed building.
Arthur appeared behind the creature using Godstep a second time, and Dawn's Ballad descended directly toward the Tyrant's neck.
The cut partially pierced the flesh, but something was wrong.
The wound was closing as it opened.
Arthur immediately moved to use Godstep again, but the Tyrant was faster.
It didn't turn completely, but it swung its elbow backward, and it was about to hit Arthur in the chest. Fortunately, he managed to block by crossing his arms, but the impact sent him flying through the air toward the Academy's destroyed building.
The air left his lungs from the impact, but even so, it wasn't the hardest hit he had ever received.
Still, not all the news was good.
A line of blood appeared on his right arm. The small injury caused by the impact immediately began to worsen. The skin opened deeper as blood began to drip slowly.
Arthur frowned.
That shouldn't happen.
The Aether he absorbed was supposed to constantly heal him… he didn't know that something like this could happen. Was the Tyrant's power stronger than his regeneration?
Either way, Arthur called upon another of the traits of the [Djinn of War] Attribute.
Immediately, the flow of Aether grew stronger. It was like opening the floodgates of a dam, and everything began to circulate through his channels.
The wound began to heal faster than it worsened, until the Tyrant forced its ability more, and they reached an intense stalemate. But that was a false perception—Arthur could maintain this unconsciously, while the Tyrant could not.
The Tyrant turned its body toward him and launched an attack from above to crush him. Arthur didn't use Godstep but dodged by jumping to the side, evading the attack.
Then he jumped and headed toward where Regis was just emerging from the rubble.
The majestic relic shook the dust off his body and growled.
"Are you hurt?" Arthur asked.
"Nah, I'm good. But I'm angry now."
Arthur expanded his Aether sense a bit further while the Tyrant turned again, and he frowned.
"Use that anger on the other creatures. I'll handle the Tyrant," he ordered.
Regis looked at him with narrowed eyes.
"You won't need me, princess?"
Arthur smiled.
"It's just a Corrupted Tyrant."
"There you go again with your masochistic tendencies," Regis snorted. "Well, have fun, then."
Regis went off to face the horde of Fallen and Awakened creatures approaching—there were even some Dormant in that group. Arthur, for his part, was going to face the Corrupted Tyrant alone.
The creature's ability was to apply its influence to the wounds of its rivals, making them worse. Added to the fact that it was much stronger than they had initially thought, and that its regeneration seemed to match Arthur's.
In the end, it seemed more like a Terror than a Tyrant—but Arthur could perfectly see the five corruption-filled cores in the creature's chest.
Even so, he didn't feel at all affected by this realization. In some twisted way, it excited him even more.
The wound on his arm remained in an eternal stalemate, and at that moment, Arthur used the Runes trait of Djinn of War again. This time, he commanded the armor to become as light as possible.
The next moment, Godstep activated once more. Feeling the Aetheric pathways, he moved to the top of the main building's remains. Then he stood analyzing the Tyrant from above for a few more moments.
His eyes narrowed slightly, and his face returned to being completely emotionless.
King's Presence wouldn't work against the Tyrant—it was of a higher rank than him, so it would withstand the ability, and Static Void suffered from the same problem. Likewise, making Aether swords wouldn't work either, as they would be the same rank as himself.
Arthur slowly released the air through his nose.
The Tyrant had already moved enough and was about to destroy the building he was standing on—he obviously let it. The creature swung one of its arms, and with a dry blow, the building was completely destroyed.
Arthur had already used Godstep again and now combined it with an Aether platform a few meters behind the Tyrant. Then, the first Memory he had ever obtained appeared in his hand.
[Infinite Lash] manifested in all its glory.
Then he propelled himself toward the Tyrant's legs. All seven of his augmentations made him as strong as an Ascended could ever dream of. Even so, the Tyrant managed to turn around and tried to crush Arthur with its foot as he slid.
At the last moment, Arthur looped the lash around both feet and used Godstep again, moving to the creature's back. Obviously, the Memory wouldn't withstand the strength of a Corrupted Tyrant, but fortunately, Arthur hadn't only learned to create swords.
The next moment, Aether chains tied both of the Tyrant's legs together, pulling them closer. This caused it to lose its balance. Then, on another Aether platform, Arthur launched himself toward its back, changing the armor's weight to make himself as heavy as possible.
Yet the Tyrant didn't flinch.
As Arthur flew, the creature swung one of its long arms toward its back, and with an awkward movement, it was about to hit Arthur squarely.
At that moment, he used Static Void—it didn't freeze the Tyrant in the slightest, but he only needed a second.
And he got it.
Before the arm could hit him fully, Arthur used Aether Manipulation to create chains again, but this time around [Infinite Lash], and finally—still holding it in his hand—he used Godstep one last time.
The Tyrant's blow, combined with everything Arthur had done, caused the former to completely lose its balance and miss the attack. Appearing on another platform beside the creature, Arthur pulled with all his strength, generating even more momentum for the Tyrant's fall.
It tried to use its arm to brace the fall, but it never expected that the next moment, Arthur would release all the chains he had created.
The Tyrant fell to the ground on its own arm, crushing it in the same moment and letting out a cry of pain that echoed throughout the city. The nearby buildings finally collapsed, bringing a curtain of dust and debris down onto the main courtyard.
Arthur decided to use his last card.
He could toy with the Tyrant all he wanted—making it fall and hurt itself—but he would never kill it that way. So only one thing remained. Only one of his abilities could stop the Corrupted creature's regeneration.
Destruction.
Suddenly, Dawn's Ballad's edge took on a purple hue, and small flames began to appear on it. With each passing moment, the flames grew and grew.
The flames were hungry.
Arthur suppressed a slight feeling of dizziness and launched himself toward the Tyrant.
The creature was already getting up, but at that moment, it was as if a comet had fallen from the sky onto its back. It fell to the ground again from the impact, creating another curtain of dust and debris—but inside the curtain.
Purple flames danced with contempt.
Arthur used the rest of his essence on King's Presence, and Destruction exploded from Dawn's Ballad the moment he drove the sword deep into the Tyrant's back.
It wasn't going to be easy for it—sustaining the pressure of his Ascended Ability while fighting against Destruction. And that was exactly what happened.
The Tyrant tried to reach its back with its arm to get him off, but King's Presence forced it to bow to the King.
The purple flames didn't just cover the wound.
They devoured it.
First came a small violet crack spreading around the sword. Then the flames began to enter the Tyrant's body as if they were alive. They advanced through the open flesh, seeking more to consume.
The Tyrant roared immediately.
Its entire body tensed violently as the flames began to spread beneath its skin. Irregular bulges began to move under the flesh, showing the path of Destruction as it advanced inside its body.
Its regeneration tried to react instantly.
The flesh began to close around the sword.
The purple flames simply consumed that, too.
The Tyrant's regeneration became fuel.
Each new layer of tissue created was immediately devoured by the flames before it could even fully stabilize. The creature's back began to open wider and wider as Destruction continued expanding inside it.
The sound was horrible.
Flesh burning, bones cracking, and something wet exploding inside the gigantic body.
Then the flames reached the spine.
The Tyrant's entire body arched back brutally.
Arthur took advantage of the moment to escape before being consumed by the flames, appearing at a safe distance.
An enormous purple crack ran down the Tyrant's back as parts of its spine began to disintegrate from within. No ashes remained. No charcoal.
It simply disappeared.
Consumed.
The flames began to emerge from the Tyrant's chest now. Small violet cracks opened around the corrupted cores as Destruction advanced directly toward them.
The Tyrant desperately tried to get up.
One of its arms struck the ground, trying to drag itself, but the entire limb began to ignite the moment it touched the flames already covering part of its torso.
Destruction spread instantly.
The flesh opened, revealing muscle. The muscle disappeared, revealing bone—until the bone was also consumed.
The arm partially collapsed as it simply ceased to exist.
The creature's roar no longer sounded stable. Now it sounded like something agonizing.
Arthur smiled as he watched the flames spread faster and faster.
Regeneration kept trying to save it, but that only made everything worse. Each attempt to rebuild fed Destruction even more.
The Tyrant's chest began to cave in on itself as the flames finally reached the five corrupted cores. Then, the entire body exploded in purple cracks. Flames emerged from the creature's nonexistent eyes, from its mouth, from its open wounds, and from beneath its skin.
Complete parts of the Tyrant began to disappear before his eyes. Everything was being consumed in a completely uncontrolled manner.
Until finally, the enormous body lost its strength.
And fell heavily forward, the purple flames continuing to devour it even after death.
[You have slain a Corrupted Tyrant: Kaheil of Central Domain.]
[Your Aether grows stronger.]
[You have received a Me—]
Arthur approached where, just seconds before, the body of a Corrupted Tyrant had lain, and he looked down with annoyance.
"Pathetic."
He closed his eyes and forced all his intent into deactivating Destruction—as Grey had taught him. Eventually, he managed it, letting out a sigh in the process.
Then he expanded his Aether sense and noticed Regis still fighting multiple Nightmare Creatures in the distance. Just then, the latter spoke to him telepathically.
'Oh, master, if you're done with the Tyrant, why don't you come lend me a hand?'
'No rest for the wicked, I guess.'
His grip on Dawn's Ballad grew tighter, and Arthur went to help Regis.
Over the following days, they focused on completely clearing the city, and by the time a new week began… only the two of them remained alive.
They were walking through the remains of what had once been an Academy that people their own age had attended.
Arthur was now twenty-two years old, and he hadn't seen Ellie in almost two years . So he stopped and sat down on a nearby piece of rubble. Then, he summoned one of his new relics.
Dead Relic.
The relic looked like a gleaming diamond with a cloudy white surface.
Next, he channeled some Aether into it and began to think of her sister.
Minutes later, after observing her for a while, he dismissed the relic and stood up to continue walking, but now at least he had a smile on his face.
Regis—who had remained silent all that time—spoke:
"Using the Long-Ranged Orb of Stalking again?"
Arthur looked at him as he continued walking. "Why ask when you already know the answer, Regis?"
"Well, you've been acting different these past few days," Regis replied, looking at him out of the corner of his eye.
Arthur looked ahead as he kept walking and answered, "I guess I have." Then he stopped again. "I'm going to take Sylvie out."
At that moment, he sat down again and entered his Soul Sea.
There, the beautiful purple views welcomed him. Seven bright purple suns illuminated everything around him, contrasting with the white clouds that filled the sky—clouds that formed the Aether knowledge he possessed.
For example, Destruction was constructed with the runes for: Denial, Form, Persistence.
Meaning: It denies that something continues to be.
Static Void was constructed with the runes for: Cessation, Time, Influence.
And meant: To force reality to abandon the movement of time without stopping its existence.
Either way, Arthur focused on the egg resting in the sand of his Soul Sea. That was Sylvie.
He knew how she had managed to do this—Sylvie had used her Ascended Ability to put herself in that form, and it was very necessary, as she wouldn't have been able to cross the Hollow Mountains as he had. Besides, she had refused to separate from him and use her tether to return to Ravenheart.
Fortunately for both of them, the tether issue wouldn't be a problem, because during the time they had been investigating the city, they had realized something incredible.
The city was a Citadel.
They had even already found the Gateway, located in a part of the Academy that, fortunately, hadn't collapsed. It looked like an enormous square, and when Arthur analyzed it with Realmheart, he realized it also attracted Aether—similar to the Blood Armor when he first obtained it.
He had already anchored himself to it.
What struck him as strange was that on his first visit to this place, it hadn't been a Citadel. It had become one afterward.
Either way, this worked out very well for him. He wasn't even a Saint yet, and he already had a Citadel waiting for him. That meant that if he ever became a Supreme, he would already have a Citadel under his name, increasing his Domain.
He smiled at that and summoned [Aroa's Requiem].
The relic appeared in his hand, taking the form of a flat green gem from which two black obsidian structures emerged, meeting each other. It looked a lot like one of the items used before the Spell descended upon the earth: a watch.
Arthur closed his eyes and focused on channeling Aether into the relic.
It began to glow with a purple light, and the Aether he was imbuing began to be expelled from it in the form of a cloud. The cloud continued to grow and grow until it surrounded the egg completely.
At that moment, Arthur commanded time to go back.
And so it did.
He didn't see what was happening, but he could feel it perfectly.
The egg began to grow larger and larger until it reached Sylvie's size. Then, it began to crack. The cloud of Aether made cracks in it until the accumulation of them caused it to break.
Arthur opened his eyes, and a beautiful woman with yellow eyes and long, disheveled pale wheat-colored hair appeared, wearing a smile on her face.
Sylvie was exactly as he had last seen her, which meant she was covered in wounds. But neither of them cared. At that moment, they both moved toward each other and ended up in a tight embrace.
"I missed you so much, Sylv."
She smiled and, instead of answering, hugged him tighter.
They stayed like that for a while until they separated, and Sylvie said:
"I can tell a lot of time has passed since the last time we saw each other." A pause. "For me, it was like closing and opening my eyes in a different moment, but I suppose that blink of mine was several years of yours…"
Arthur smiled forcefully.
"Exactly a year and seven months since I entered the Hollow Mountains, but—" Now he smiled genuinely. "The important thing is that you're here now."
"The important thing is that we're both okay and together," she added.
Then Arthur decided to bring them out of his Soul Sea, as keeping an Ascended Titan inside wasn't very easy. Eventually, they both emerged and were greeted by Regis's presence.
The latter ignored Arthur and greeted Sylvie.
"I see you're accepting your horns, Sylv. It's good to have you with us." Then he grinned. "The masochistic princess here needs someone to supervise him."
Sylvie stroked Regis's head while smiling at him, but then she turned to look at Arthur with a raised eyebrow—an Arthur who was very busy admiring the city's destroyed architecture.
"Is that true, Art?"
He shrugged. "I don't know what Regis is talking about. If anything, I'm the one who has to supervise him."
Now Sylvie turned to look at Regis, as it was his turn to admire the destroyed architecture.
Sylvie let out a sigh and then began to laugh. As she did, Arthur and Regis also started laughing.
Eventually, they stopped, and Arthur said:
"We have good news."
Sylvie remained silent, waiting for him to continue. But it was Regis who continued.
"The princess here realized this was a Citadel with its own Gateway, so you'll be able to anchor yourself here."
She nodded. "That's good… but that's not all, is it?"
Arthur smiled widely. "No, it's not. Don't you feel it?"
At that moment, Sylvie did indeed feel it, and she mirrored Arthur's smile. Eventually, she asked:
"Are you sure about this, Art?"
He nodded, his eyes hardening slightly. "You already know everything we went through during the campaign, and you know what awaits our world if we do nothing." A pause. "If we don't become strong, what happened in Antarctica will happen again. In fact… we don't even know if it's not happening right now…"
"Then," she interrupted, "what are we waiting for?"
They both smiled, and Regis added: "The trio is back together, and we're going to kick some Sovereign ass!"
The three of them began to laugh and started walking in the direction of the Gateway, once Sylvie anchored herself there, they went in the direction of what they felt.
At one point, the sensation became overwhelming and impossible to resist.
Then, after a couple of minutes, the three stood admiring a rift in the fabric of reality.
Looking at it, they could feel the magnetic, insidious call of the Nightmare.
Before entering, Regis became incorporeal and entered Arthur's core, while Arthur and Sylvie held hands firmly. Then they stepped forward, and the rift in the fabric of reality swallowed them.
[Ascended! Prepare for your ██████ Trial…]
[Two brave ones… welcome to the Nightmare!]