A Novel Concept - A death a day, MC will live anyway!

Stepping through the rift, Priam entered a chamber hewn directly from the rock by the roots of Log-a-rhythm. He took three strides forward, placing his hand on a root snaking along the wall. Secret Passage opened, and Priam stepped through into the clearing. Behind him, the tree’s trunk sealed shut as he lifted his gaze toward the Necromoon.

Suspended in the sky, the alien entity triggered a cataclysm with its mere presence. When Priam would travel back in time, everything suggested that the moon would notice the trickery... and ignore it. To the Necromoon, he was nothing.

Being overlooked by the stars had never stopped humanity from living, and Priam focused on his mission.

“Where are they?”

“A hundred meters from here. Seth refuses to enter Oasis,” Jasmine replied, her voice a whisper from within her shadowy concealment.

“Either he’s paranoid... or the banishment of necro corruption is affecting him,” Priam muttered, heading toward Ymir’s shop. He had business to attend to before the final act began.

The merchant stood near the Auction Altar and turned as Priam pushed aside the tent flap.

“Lord Priam, it is a pleasure to welcome you to my humble shop,” Ymir said, fingers interlocked against his chest in a respectful gesture.

Priam returned the gesture with a polite smile. “Merchant Ymir, I’m here to retrieve the fulcrum fragment and propose a trade.”

In his right hand, he held Taishi’s spear. The legendary weapon was objectively superior to Promesse, cutting with greater ease and precision. In a test, Priam had struck both weapons against each other, chipping his own blade. However, Promesse was bound to him, and that made all the difference.

According to his phoenix mentor, it would be easier to enhance his weapon by reforging it in a ritual. That was intriguing, but not as appealing as the primary benefit of their bond: synchronizing their strengths. Currently, the weapon enjoyed a small portion of the effects of his Titles and Talents. By improving the [Promesse - Bound Weapon] Talent, the spear could potentially gain their full effects, even Priam’s resistances. In time, he, too, would likely reap certain advantages.

Thus, Priam wasn’t planning to switch weapons but found it a shame to let a legendary weapon go to waste.

“When I chose Back in Time, I knew I had to exploit this reward to its fullest to make it as valuable as Lord Fifth,” he confided to the merchant. “One of the deciding factors was Concepts Archipelago. My internal world is a Gold Talent and therefore part of me. As such, it will likely travel back in time with me... along with all the items within.”

Ymir nodded slightly, attentive.

“I want to duplicate your products,” Priam finally proposed. “Particularly the plants you cultivate.”

Ymir, a half-elf vegetarian with that Title, owned a greenhouse with a rare collection of plants. Priam intended to sacrifice them as samples to Log-a-rhythm, but their price had curbed his ambitions. Even for him, three million Sun points was an astronomical sum.

“Your offer is interesting, but what’s in it for me?” the merchant asked.

“I’ll take the clones of the plants, and you’ll keep the originals. You would get a free copy of every item in your shop.”

A contrite expression crossed the elf’s face. “My Lord... I don’t doubt your honor and am sure you’re not trying to cheat me. However, and I mean no offense, your reward isn’t a sufficient guarantee for me to take this risk.”

“You think I might die before triggering Back in Time,” Priam realized.

Ymir nodded. “Death, a mind break, control or wipe, a soul scar, a time lock... I’m a merchant, not a warrior, but I know your enemies are powerful, and your Tribulations will do everything to stop you from escaping. In the dreadful event that you perish, I would be left with nothing.”

The merchant’s arguments were sound, and Priam decided to show some goodwill. “I can give you a portion of my current Sun points.”

Ymir’s smile returned. “That would be a good start.”

“A good start?”

“If Miss Jasmine adds her own points, we’d reach just over two million; a reasonable guarantee for the entirety of my stock.”

Priam’s shadow quivered, revealing Jasmine. “You can detect me?”

“Merchants have a few interesting perks,” Ymir replied.

Jasmine narrowed her eyes. “Is this your shop?”

Ymir merely smiled, and Priam tucked the information away for later. A skilled thief might be able to outwit a merchant, but Jasmine was primarily an assassin.

The conversation had drifted, and Priam steered it back on course. “You’re asking for all my Sun points, and... Well, I have to admit I was hoping to keep some to confirm that the Auction was off-limits to me.”

The phoenix had told him the System wanted to reward him, not provide a platform to scam other users, but he wanted to be sure.

“The Auction isn’t off-limits to you,” the merchant corrected. “But in practice, you can’t use it. When you purchase an item at the Auction, it takes twenty-four hours to arrive to prevent such exploits. I’m afraid luck isn’t on your side.”

“I see... In that case, I suppose I’ll settle for your herbs for two million.” It was already a million saved, and Priam didn’t want to waste time haggling. He had bigger fish to fry.

Ymir led them to his private greenhouse and slid open a wooden partition, revealing a dazzling array of magical plants. “A pleasure doing business with you.”

With his internal world filled to the brim, Priam departed from the Oasis. Leaping from branch to branch, his mist-laden eyes scanned the terrain, while fiery reflections danced through his hair. A physical manifestation of his Concepts working overtime, struggling to fend off the ambient necro-corruption.

The Necromoon hadn’t been around long, but its presence alone was so toxic that only those with a Concept or Supremacy could move freely now. Bad news, but there was nothing he could do about it. Priam forced himself to focus on the present.

Mentally, he ran through his plan, reviewing his rewards and Merit Points. The upcoming encounter with his rivals would kick off the final act.

The haunted forest ended abruptly, giving way to a clearing. Priam was certain it hadn’t existed yesterday, yet there wasn’t a single stump in sight. When Dishnu asked the trees for a favor, they uprooted themselves to comply.

The Homo Elysian landed softly on revitalized grass. Not even the Necromoon’s corrupt light could penetrate Dishnu’s Domain. The Drya stood to Priam’s right, gently caressing the bark of a tree like a mother soothing her child. He had changed since their last meeting—his bark armor more majestic, his eyes a deeper, more vivid emerald.

On the opposite side of the clearing, a terrifying homunculus glared at the Drya with intensity. Arnold NetSky had also transformed. It was hard to tell if he was even wearing clothing; his skin had become armor, shifting rapidly from a mysterious dark blue to a radiant turquoise. Priam suppressed a shiver. Something about the Var Elegis had changed, and the aura he exuded was suffocating.

“Is everything alright?”

Priam glanced down at Esmée, sitting on a nearby stone. She flashed him a weary but enchanting smile. The princess, though she seemed perpetually exhausted, retained a supernatural beauty. Her sun-kissed hair, woven into a long braid, revealed her delicate shoulders. Her golden skin appeared almost sacred in the corrupted surroundings.

“Everything’s ready.”

“That is not what I meant.”

Priam saw the worry in her eyes. She was concerned about his mental state.

“I’m fine.” As the words left his mouth, he realized it was the truth. The deaths had affected him, of course, but with the goal so close, sadness and anger had turned into fuel. His hearts pounded faster as the looming danger sharpened his resolve.

“I’m glad you’re confident because I’m not,” a sharp voice cut in. The crimson light bathing the clearing intensified, revealing Seth. He hovered above the ground, his eyes glowing red and a crimson halo encircling his head, like a biblical depiction of a demon. Dishnu turned toward him, radiating hostility, while Arnold kept a curious eye on the new arrival.

“I killed you.”

If looks could kill, Seth would’ve already murdered Arnold; unfortunately for him, he didn’t have the right ocular skill in his repertoire. “You destroyed my body—that’s different,” Seth spat back.

For the first time, Priam detected no hint of madness in the necromancer’s voice—just a deep, simmering grudge.

“I’ll remember that for next time,” the Var Elegis said in a perfectly neutral tone.

Seeing Seth’s eyes blaze with hatred, Priam raised a hand. “I’d prefer if you waited until after we kill the Fallen to tear each other apart. Even with seven Champions, let’s not count our dragons before they hatch.”

“Seven?” Seth growled.

“Ève, if you please.”

As if a mirage had lifted, a young woman with golden eyes materialized beside him, capturing the attention of all the Champions present. Seth frowned and then turned to Arnold.

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“You obsessed over killing me when you could’ve taken out an ancient fairy?”

“I tried,” the homunculus replied flatly.

“You didn’t mention that,” Priam said through Ève's subsystem.

“Does it matter?” the clone shot back.

“You tell me.”

“…I discovered Sumstreh’s lair while fleeing the Terminator. The rest is history.”

“You’re mad enough to work with a fairy?” Seth asked Priam.

“Why not? I’m mad enough to work with you.”

“... Your death.” Seth shot a venomous look at Ève before scanning the area. “I don’t sense the hoplite.”

“Kazuki didn’t survive his Tribulations.”

Silence fell over the group until the necromancer erupted in laughter. “He really was the weakest of us. I suppose you don’t have his corpse on hand? I could always bring him back if you’d like…”

Before Priam could lose his temper, a voice like rustling leaves cut through the tension.

“The dead shouldn’t talk so much.”

There was something in Dishnu’s voice that carried the weight of a promise, and Seth fell silent. Nature rarely announced its wrath, but only a fool ignored its warnings.

Priam shifted the topic.

“Ève, when will the Tier 4s from the tribes arrive?”

“In an hour.”

“Seth, I think it’s time to start the ritual.”

The necromancer grumbled. “Barely enough time. The souls are ready?”

Jasmine’s hand shot out from Priam’s shadow, holding up a diamond—the soul collector.

“Ten million, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Then let’s go get them.”

Without waiting for a response, Priam offered Esmée a hand. She took it, and together they leaped into the air. Drawing on his kinetic reserves, Priam broke the sound barrier, and they flew for three minutes at Mach 5. Spotting a cliff overlooking a valley swarming with corrupted creatures, Priam guided them to a smooth landing. Equidistant from the tribes’ camp and Sumstreh's lair, it was the perfect spot to kick off the final act.

Seth appeared beside him in a beam of light, Dishnu stepped out from the trunk of a nearby tree, and Arnold and Ève simply materialized.

“This should do,” Priam mused. He extended his hand, and Ève handed him a metal sphere the size of a bowling ball.

“Hoplite nuclear fission device detected,” Arnold intoned.

“A nuke,” summarized Priam. According to Hyshana, the device in his hands was at least twelve times more powerful than the bomb dropped on Hiroshima. It was no thermonuclear weapon, but still devastating.

Perfect for obliterating a valley teeming with the undead without vitrifying the island.

“You might want to take cover. This is going to be intense,” he warned.

With a pained expression, Dishnu stepped back, summoning a bark shield adorned with hundreds of glowing runes. He was undoubtedly mourning the imminent death of many trees. Arnold opted to create a carbon half-sphere, a static hum filling the air as a force field shimmered over its surface. Seth’s flesh rippled before Tier 3 bones pierced through, revealing the necromancer as a skeletal figure possessed. Esmée used a quill to inscribe runes in the air, which rearranged themselves into a spectral, omnidirectional shield. The princess glanced at her shadow, which gave a small salute—Jasmine wasn’t as suicidal as her boss.

“Ève,” Priam said before the clone could take cover.

“Yes?”

“Remember our contract?”

“To help you free my original and Sphinx, then die.”

There was something terrifying in the clone’s detachment.

“Still ready?” Priam asked.

“More than ever. But I’m afraid all your preparations won’t be enough to kill Sumstreh. I don’t know how many centuries they’ve been hiding there, but they had time to turn that cave into a fortress.”

“And yet, you’re helping me.”

The sub-system implanted in the clone’s soul couldn’t read her thoughts but monitored her constantly. Priam had witnessed every minute of the clone’s life, and she had never hesitated to follow an order.

“You wouldn’t risk the child’s life if you weren’t sure of your chances. I’m confident my original will ride this storm to escape.”

Priam met the gaze of his unlikely ally and saw the determination in her eyes. This was no time for second thoughts. Making his decision, he extended his closed hand. Ève took the object hidden within, her eyes widening as she identified it.

“You—”

“I want Sphinx to get this before we arrive.”

“... I won’t be able to hide a mythical item from the Fallen for more than a few seconds.”

“That’ll be enough.” Priam transmitted a portion of the plan he had devised with Esmée to Ève’s sub-system. She reviewed it quickly and nodded.

“Sphinx can really do that?”

“Yes. To be honest, it’s you I’m worried about.”

“You’re afraid my original won’t cooperate?”

“I’m afraid she’ll do something stupid.”

Priam had no intention of rescuing Sphinx from Sumstreh’s clutches only to have her fall prey to Ève. The two rivals locked eyes until the clone finally smiled.

“Even the Var Elegis isn’t as pragmatic as my original.” Her smile was so melancholic that Priam’s hearts tightened. “Don’t be late.”

With that, she vanished.

Priam exchanged a glance with Esmée and gave her a nod before turning toward the valley. His arm snapped forward like a catapult, hurling the bomb into the air. The nuclear device arced gracefully before descending into the valley, landing fifteen hundred meters away from them. According to Hyshana, that would be far enough to avoid being engulfed by the initial plasma sphere.

Click.

There was something about fire and stars that captivated Priam. Maybe it was the raw, untamed power of nature or the mesmerizing, destructive beauty of these elements. Whatever the reason, he had a similar obsession with explosions.

The blinding flash, the fireball, and the shockwave that followed... Priam was smart enough to stay out of harm's way, but there was something about deflagrations that fascinated him. He had watched countless documentaries on nuclear bombs, and naturally, he was terrified of those engines of death.

Yet, as he watched the hoplite sphere activate, Priam realized he was smiling in anticipation. Behind him, his rivals huddled behind shields, but he refused to do the same. Every Champion had their specialty, and he had his.

Adaptation, resilience, immortality. Each trial brought him closer to Zenith.

The burst of light was so intense it wiped out all shadows and colors. When the blinding whiteness that had conquered the world stole his sight, Priam kept smiling.

He was almost surprised to feel his skin charring and his hair igniting, despite his Fire Champion physique. The heat from the explosion reached him almost as quickly as the light, and without his resistance, it would have vaporized him. A statue of coal, he felt his blood vaporize and his organs boil. [Tenacious Spirit] took over when his brain turned to mush, but Priam didn't restore it immediately.

A tremor in the ground and a gut-wrenching twist of fear were the only warnings of what was to come. The atomic blast hit him with unimaginable force. Without his kinetic control, his body would have been blown away. His charred skin flaked off, and despite his high constitution, his organs imploded, and his bones shattered. The terrifying overpressure ruptured his eardrums and ravaged his lungs.

According to modern medicine, the detonation had killed him.

Once the shockwave passed, Priam used [Three-Headed Hydra] and [Tribulation Wyvern Heart] to restore his brain and draconic heart.

Using Pyro, Domain, and [Kinetic Control], Priam absorbed the nearby heat into these two organs. As long as they remained intact, he could regenerate. He deliberately ignored the rest of his body, counting on his [Homo Elysian Obsession] to further develop his resistances.

Then came the sound. His ears were useless now, but his Domain felt the sonic wave pass with the ferocity of a thousand thunderclaps. To most, it was the roar of catastrophe. To Priam, it was the herald of his triumph.

If he could have, he would have smiled. He had survived. Of course, he wasn't out of the woods yet—inside the fireball created by the atomic blast, the temperature hovered around six thousand degrees Celsius, comparable to the surface of the sun. That was more than enough to kill him several times over. Still, what hadn't killed him instantly had little chance of finishing the job as the temperature began to drop and his body adapted.

As the initial fireball transformed into a firestorm—the forest trees made for excellent fuel—Priam focused on the final weapon of this calamity.

It was time to acquire radiation resistance.

Esmée gradually managed to calm her racing heart. The explosion had been so violent, so sudden, that she hadn't even had time to react. The blast and thermal wave were on par with Empyrean strategic weapons, and her shield had nearly given out. She had to team up with the Guardian and the Terminator just to survive. Even then, they had been blasted back hundreds of meters.

As soon as possible, she opened her grimoire and let out a sigh of relief when she saw that Priam was still alive.

“The First faced that technological bane with no protection, and they call me crazy,” Seth fumed.

“I tried to talk him out of it at least ten times, but he refused every single time,” Jasmine chimed in.

“The First isn’t like us,” Arnold cut in.

“What’s dangerous for us is just a game to him,” Esmée smiled.

As the flames began to die down, she turned to her shadow.

“How many?”

The bombs were items, so they didn’t yield Sun points, but that wasn’t what their rivals were after.

“... A little over six million souls.”

Esmée grimaced, and Seth grunted. “That’s not gonna be enough.”

The fire finally faded, revealing a wasteland of ashes. Far ahead, Priam's silhouette stood out against the cliffside. Nude, his bronzed skin covered powerful muscles. Esmée's gaze lingered on the flames that formed a crown around him before drifting down to his muscular buttocks. Her cheeks reddened, and the princess almost looked away before she reminded herself: I can't lose sight of him... just in case he needs me.

Reassured by her excuse, she refocused on the scene before her. The conquering Champion appeared to challenge the atomic mushroom cloud rising in the background.

Suddenly, Esmée’s pupils contracted. Reaching into a portal, Priam pulled out a second sphere.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Jasmine groaned. Seth had demanded ten million souls, and her boss would deliver them.

With a shout of joy, a nude Priam hurled the second nuke.

[4 hours 49 minutes before optimal activation of Back in Time.]

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