The Stubborn Skill-Grinder In A Time Loop

Chapter 43: Answers In The Lunar Depths & Four Months

The very first thing Orodan did was barge off to a more private area so he could ensure his book companion was alright. He tapped into his spatial ring and drew her out.

She was motionless.

“Hey… hey! Are you alright? The spatial ring was trembling quite violently,” Orodan said as he shook her.

He was on the verge of telling Destartes to call a return so he could make way for Alastaia and acquire a soul specialist when she decided to suddenly fly up and smack him in the face.

“Very funny, you dusty old hag,” Orodan said, an unamused expression on his face.

“But you should’ve seen the look on your face! I haven’t seen you that concerned for anyone before!” she teased. “Does the mighty Orodan Wainwright actually care about me? How adorab- guk!”

She could deal with being tossed at a wall.

“Now isn’t the time for jokes,” Orodan reprimanded. “You said before that you were undergoing a soul meld when I fought that dwarf… but if I specifically recall, it was when that dwarven God Varkir showed up. And here the ring trembled rather forcefully again, are you beginning to remember anything?”

To her credit, she did stop playing around and actually took a moment before answering.

“I… do not remember much,” she said slowly. “My soul underwent an extreme amount of pain, and I think I remember fragments of certain memories, and I recall being in settlements with similar architecture to this one, but the environment outside was far different. Fields of rolling green instead of the lifeless rock we stand upon.”

“I doubt the moon has always had a desolate and airless atmosphere,” Orodan replied. “Not if civilization used to thrive here. But, more importantly, do you remember anything about who you are? The eyes of the woman in that carving…”

“Yes, I’m aware,” she said. “I’m not stupid enough to dismiss the coincidence of the mismatched eyes. And while I’m only recalling fragments, they aren’t anything pleasant and are too disjointed to make out. Orodan… if the people who did this to me are still around… then I’m not sure it’s safe for-”

“Don’t even finish that line of thought. Do you think I’d ever back down from a fight?” Orodan asked. “If you’re too senile to deal with your problems, then I’ll just have to deal with them for you. I don’t know if we’ll acquire all the answers in this loop… but I will find out what happened to you and who you are someday.”

“You really are a fool, Orodan Wainwright,” she said. And Orodan would dare think there might’ve been a hint of fondness in that tone.

The two remained for a moment simply standing in silence before Orodan broke it.

“Anyhow, we have some leads, and this expedition isn’t over yet,” he said. “Where do you think we should look next? Do the fragments you’re beginning to remember point you anywhere?”

“Yes actually. One thing I’m starting to remember is a citadel of epic proportions,” she said as her pages fluttered. “It was situated between two gigantic mountains.”

“Well, that’s certainly a lead we can work with,” Orodan said as he beckoned her into his spatial ring and made way back towards Destartes.

“Mister Wainwright, any discoveries?” the space mage asked. “You went off for a bit there.”

“Yes, I had to resolve certain issues with my friend,” Orodan spoke, hoping the space mage would take the hint. Destartes had seen his book companion before but respected her privacy. “I have a selfish request to make.”

“Ah, of course!” Destartes said, realization upon his face. “And if you need something please don’t hesitate to ask; this expedition would not be here today if not for you.”

“Well then… I was hoping we could head for a particular location; a citadel between two looming mountains,” Orodan said. “I understand this is a bit sudden of a request, but I’m glad to venture there myself if n-”

“Nonsense! A citadel upon the moon sounds like an absolutely grand site to survey!” Destartes retorted. “We’ll put the scouts to work and see if such a thing is visible from our scans. The good thing about having a teleporter to and from Alastaia is that we can survey and capture images of the moon from our world and scout out terrain in that manner.”

In good news, finding the citadel between two mountains wasn’t an issue. Astronomers from Alastaia had easily corresponded and located it, and the scouts and cartographers subsequently confirmed its location.

He’d gained two more levels in Pathfinding from the trek. While Spatial Fold would’ve been a quick way to get there, the expedition was too passionate about seeing all the moon had to offer and Orodan didn’t have the heart to deprive them of the experience.

As a matter of fact, the citadel was one of the sites that the expedition had considered landing near given its historical significance; astronomers had always wondered what it was. Of course, given that Orodan was the reason they could get to the moon they’d left the decision to him, but otherwise it might’ve been a contender for a spot to land upon.

The bad news, however, was that the citadel was in utter ruin. Whoever assaulted it clearly hadn’t left much of it to go through, and the expedition would be lucky if they could even get past the main gates, since everything was in utter ruin.

“Hmm… this is no good. It’ll take our laborers a while to clear this mess,” Destartes spoke. But Orodan wasn’t too concerned as his destination wasn’t the citadel itself but what lay underneath it.

“Destartes… I’m seeing extensive tunnels beneath the citadel,” Orodan said as his Vision of Purity mapped things out. “As a matter of fact, very extensive.”

“How deep?” the space mage asked.

“They extend beyond the range of Vision of Purity, at least five miles below. If this was our world, down to the wild depths at least,” Orodan said. “The tunnels seem constructed too.”

“Reaching them will be troublesome, but we can get the laborers to-”

“No, that’s alright,” Orodan said. “In fact, I have a feeling this’ll be rather dangerous for them since I can detect multiple signatures. I propose I head in, clear the way, and the expedition can come in after.”

Destartes looked like he wanted to argue it but decided against it. Orodan felt slightly bad for denying the space mage his chance to see the depths of the moon with his own eyes, but it genuinely would be dangerous inside. Vision of Purity picked up multiple monsters within, and they ranged from dual to triple-Grandmasters. Even Destartes would simply get in Orodan’s way while fighting in such close quarters.

“As you say Mister Wainwright,” the space mage replied. “We shall await your return at Wainwright’s Land then.”

Orodan tried to ignore the embarrassment at having a point of land named after him and bade Destartes farewell as the space mage teleported the expedition back to the outpost.

Once they were all gone, his book companion came out of his spatial ring.

“From my memories, the citadel should’ve been towering past the clouds, with rolling green fields surrounding it all… I’m not entirely sure what happened, but we should delve deeper, something in me says the answer will lie below.”

“I concur… if this truly was a world in the past… then should there not be gates deeper in its depths? Something has felt off about the moon ever since we’ve set foot here,” Orodan said. “Grandmaster-level monsters wander the surface freely, there’s no intelligent life in sight… none of these things would occur on Alastaia.”

His companion hummed in agreement, and a Spatial Fold took them all the way down to the beginning of the constructed tunnels leading downward. A little destructive when casting Spatial Fold through rock to reach a point underground, but it came with benefits as he had to make modifications to the spell.

[Spatial Fold 14 → Spatial Fold 15]

[Space Mastery 11 → Space Mastery 12]

He stepped through the fold in space, and the first thing to greet him were the chittering mandibles of a group of Grandmaster soul devouring centipedes. They fled before he could give them a thrashing.

“Grandmaster-level monsters right at the entrance? A little odd, but then again, the surface had plenty too,” Orodan said as the two of them continued downwards.

An hour passed as Orodan made his way down, and the depths of the moon were quite extensive. Most strangely, none of the monsters were territorial like they would be in the depths of Alastaia. No snarling, no begrudging retreats in the face of his superior power, just an incredibly quick escape with no second thoughts about it.

In fact, now that he thought about it…

“If this were Alastaia, we’d be at the very bottom of the deep depths, yet I notice no changes in the durability of the rock, nor do I see much, if any, plant life,” Orodan said. “Something’s a bit off around these parts.”

“Yes… I detect no world energy whatsoever,” his companion said as she flew about his head. “Little wonder then that everything was happy to flee. There’s no benefit to be gained in staying and defending their spot.”

It might also explain the sheer abundance of ‘soul devouring’ type creatures on the moon. In the absence of world energy, what else could they feed upon to grow and survive? The creatures they’d encountered thus far almost exclusively consisted of soul devouring monsters and decaying golems whose power was dwindling.

And if there was world energy and the deep depths upon the moon, then it only stood to reason that there would be further elements similar to Alastaia deeper down. As Orodan entered the abyssal depths of the moon, he noticed the complete lack of light, similar to the abyss of Alastaia, however Vision of Purity couldn’t pick up anything living for miles.

“How eerie… it’s as though nothing lives here at all,” Orodan said. “I would’ve expected to see at least something around here. Instead, it’s almost like a world in reverse, with the stronger monsters congregating upon the surface with nothing in the abyssal depths.”

“Odd. Keep your guard up,” his companion said. “Who knows what we’ll encounter down here. I feel such a strange sense of melancholy as we go down these halls…”

He could understand why. His soul energy lighting the way meant that the ornately carved halls were visible, and they spoke of a culture or a civilization that had pacified the entire way down to the abyssal depths. Seeing everything abandoned set a tragic mood.

Ten more minutes of travel, and Orodan finally saw something he recognized from Alastaia. It was quite similar in many aspects, from the glyphs of the System, to the rock which looked different from the surroundings. Yet there were obvious differences due to the ravages of time. Unlike the one he’d seen in the abyss at Ranmere’s Folly, the glyphs weren’t glowing, and the stone had lost all energy and consequently, its exceptional durability.

Before him, lay a broken first gate. It was a world gate, on the moon.

“As though it’s run out of power,” Orodan said. “The one I saw in our world was functional with its System glyphs glowing. It also had gate guardians ready to defend it… what happened here?”

A screech of pain echoed out from his companion, and Orodan gently caught the book in his arms before she could fall, a look of concern upon his face.

“I’m fine… I think I’m beginning to remember more now that we’re here,” she said.

“We don’t have to advance if you don’t want to,” he said. “I know from first-hand experience that healing the soul is painful, but it’s your choice as to whether we continue.”

“I want to press on,” she answered. “The gates should have their source of power deeper within… come, I’m beginning to remember which way we might get answers.”

Orodan nodded… and stepped past the threshold of the moon’s shattered first world gate.

There was no System message declaring him the Subject of a Quest like last time. Rather, it was almost hauntingly quiet within. Naught but Orodan, his companion, and the ruins of a civilization long-gone.

“It was similar past the first gate of Alastaia as well. A city filled with monsters…” Orodan muttered. “Although, with a guardian who immediately slew me.”

“I suspect the guardian of this place is long gone… much like the civilization is,” his companion said.

Walking through the deserted ruins of a fallen city made for a rather sombre tone. There weren’t even any corpses around, just dust and debris. Some of the buildings looked as though they’d fallen apart from the ravages of time, while others looked as though they’d received some titanic assault. The signs of an ancient battle were apparent.

Who had done this? Orodan found himself considering the question as they walked onward.

Five more minutes of travel through the abandoned husk of civilization led them to another descending grand hallway which seemed to go down forever.

An extreme distance away Orodan’s sharp eyes could see an end, but he’d have to go closer to investigate. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say the distance of this descending hallway was thousands of miles. If they were on Inuan, this would be the distance between the Dokuhan Mountains in the south and the Republic in the north. Only the lack of air allowed him to clearly see so far down the hallway.

They traversed the hallway swiftly, but it still took the better part of three hours to make it to where the end was close enough that Orodan could see it.

Another strange and broken wall lined with faded System symbols lacking power. Above the gate, was a display. The corpse of something rather vicious and terrifying looking. Even though the eight-armed beast was dead, mounted upon the wall as a trophy; Orodan got a vague sense that it was as strong in life as the Void Horror that had come charging at him once he passed the world gate on Alastaia.

“A second gate… with the gate guardian displayed as a trophy,” Orodan muttered. “And it’s broken just like the first one was.”

Another horrid screech of agony came from his companion, and while Orodan was concerned, he respected her decision to go on. He waited till she was settled and had recovered.

“I… I don’t know if you’ll like what you find within,” she quietly said. “There is only pain and the reminder of loss beyond this door for me.”

“We can leave now if-”

“No, we continue,” she said. “I need to remember my identity, and this is the final step. Going forward, in future loops you’ll know the answer.”

“As you say…”

The shattered remnants of the second world gate were stepped past, and Orodan’s eyes widened in wonder as he turned the corner of the hallway to find himself standing within the most gigantic subterranean cavern he’d ever seen.

Before him, was a broken throne. To the sides of which were walls with carvings. But behind the throne was an open wall which gave Orodan a nice overlooking view of a grand structure.

A shattered orb of titanic proportions, System glyphs covered its surface, but they’d lost their power long ago, and the structure was shattered into hundreds of thousands of pieces, with only one significant chunk being intact.

This was…

“The core of a world… my world…” his companion uttered, and then promptly began screaming in pain as she violently shook in his hands.

Orodan kept a hold of her as she rode out the pain of her disjointed soul melding together, and as she did, he couldn’t help but have a closer look at the carvings on the wall.

A noble queen, uplifting an oppressed race of hybrid half-dragons from their misery. A war against the enraged dragons who sought to stop them; a victory which led to the oppressed becoming rulers and the former ruling dragons going into hiding as rebels… and the queen delving into the heart of the world itself, slaying an eight-armed beast and reaching the core to bring it under her thumb.

The final carving showed this queen ascending to a higher realm of power, only for something to come down upon her head once she did.

The details of what exactly came down were incomplete, as though they were carved hastily. And upon a carved plinth the words were translated by the System as Orodan read them.

‘Defier of dragons, defender of the oppressed, ruler of our world, soon to ascend beyond the level of Grandmasters.’

And beneath that, on a final plinth was the identity of this individual.

‘Our monarch and guardian…’

“Zaessythra, World-Queen of Vylrystia,” Orodan read out loud.

A glow of successful soul melding enveloped the book.

The moon expedition had gone shockingly well, and Wainright’s Land now held a permanent teleporter to and from the moon. Of course, Orodan had to do some extensive work in clearing monster populations in the surrounding ten miles lest they be attracted to the outpost and its inhabitants.

The ‘moon rush’, as scholars and historians were calling it, would have far-reaching economic and academic consequences for Inuan. The Republic and Novarria both butted heads over access to the teleporter, but both sides agreed to work together on the matter out of respect for Orodan’s assistance in enabling it all in the first place.

The market exploded with demand for the corpses of ‘lunar monsters’ and ‘lunar materials’, but if Orodan was being honest there really wasn’t a lot of good material on the moon due to the complete lack of world energy. Not that it stopped ‘lunar materials’ from being sold at exorbitant prices by the royal traders of the Republic and Novarria. If people wanted to pay unreasonable sums of gold for sub-par things, who was Orodan to stop them?

Officially, he was lauded as a prodigious space mage who’d broken a critical barrier and innovated a new method of travel. The public at least, accepted that part, even if Orodan took some slight issue with being called a mage. Unofficially of course, the higher echelons of society knew that he was an international powerhouse who’d bullied the dwarves and forced the elves to reconsider any thoughts of a more aggressive stance towards the human nations of Inuan. That he had Divine Resistance was also a fact going around national intelligence circles.

It was with all this as a backdrop that he sat before Balastion Novar, giving a report of all that had occurred.

“I’m told your moon expedition went without any issues. The economic impacts on our end have been felt keenly enough,” the first emperor said. “I wish I could say the same for our meeting with the elves, but that bridge has been burnt down.”

“Perhaps, but at the very least they won’t be thinking of attacking us anytime soon,” Orodan replied. “The knowledge that I’m in a time loop makes them rather cautious.”

“I suppose… anyhow, tell me more about your descent into the depths of the lunar core,” Balastion asked. “There was a shattered world core there… what’s the story behind that?”

“Yes, there was a shattered world core. But as for the story…” Orodan trailed off. “It’s not my place to say.”

Balastion gave him a long look for a moment, but then backed off.

“I see. I will not pry in this matter,” the first emperor said. “I suspect it has to do with a friend of yours, does it not?”

Orodan remained silent and would not answer. He had yet to really broach the subject with his companion herself.

“I do not mean to put undue pressure on you to answer,” Balastion said. “Let us move onto a different topic; the future.”

“Yes, with the expedition concluded we have four months left till the descent of the Eldritch,” Orodan said. “And shortly before that, the Inter-Academy Tournament where Othorion Evertree will be present. If they even allow him to attend given their fear that I might free Faraine.”

“Maybe they will, maybe they won’t,” Balastion said. “But what the elves are not aware of… is your ability to harm Gods directly through Warrior’s Reciprocity. Otherwise, they must have faith in whatever shackles they have upon Faraine in the divine realm. They aren’t expecting you to be capable of crossing the dimensional boundary to strike at her directly.”

“Last time when I caused the body enchantments binding Othorion to shatter, the Avatars of Cithrel and Athandelu descended immediately and cast rune magic to restrain her once more,” Orodan recounted. “I’m not sure how to prevent them from simply re-sealing her again. Without an open battle against them that is.”

“Vespidia has a plan for that… speak to her about the issue and you’ll find a solution,” Balastion said. “Once you free Faraine and it’s permanent, I think you’ll find the elven Gods’ desire to do battle with you fading as they’ll have bigger concerns at that point.”

Orodan accepted the explanation as it made sense. If he could somehow free the imprisoned Goddess permanently… dealing with her would occupy the elves more than wanting to battle him. As long as he didn’t attack them afterward, they might grudgingly leave as a battle would be costly for them.

If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

The two spoke for a while longer on various matters before Orodan left.

He made way for his residential tower and entered a private area before deciding to finally draw upon his spatial ring.

His book companion fluttered out, or should he say…

“Zaessythra. That’s your name, isn’t it?” Orodan asked. “You flew back into my ring on the moon and refused to speak of the matter, but now that we’re back, I feel it’s a good time to talk.”

“I didn’t mean to give you the cold shoulder back there,” Zaessythra spoke. “Once my soul successfully melded, I remembered a great number of things at once. I needed time to collect myself. We can speak now.”

“So… World-Queen of Vylrystia? The moon used to have its own core?” Orodan asked. “I fought an Arch-Devil with the World Conqueror title once… you must have the same, no?”

“Yes, Vylrystia was its own world over two hundred millennia ago. A world my people and I shed much blood to take from the hands of those arrogant blood-purist dragons,” Zaessythra answered. “I was its queen and the first World-Conqueror in our star system as well.”

“And your skill levels? The plinth said you were going beyond the level of Grandmasters, you must’ve exceeded level one hundred then,” Orodan said. “What does your Status say?”

“I… I cannot access my Status,” she replied, causing Orodan’s eyes to sharpen. “Whatever those ‘crusaders’ did in their final assault reached into my soul core to damage something important. Attempting to access my Status causes me great pain.”

A foe so powerful that they could assault the soul core, damaging it to the point that System access was hindered? A frightening prospect, and if he wasn’t careful, one that could harm him greatly despite the time loops.

The manic smile on his face at the thought of facing them must’ve unsettled his companion though.

“I see, but do you remember going past level one hundred at least?” Orodan asked. “Were you then… a God?”

“No… I still do not remember what exactly I was; but it wasn’t a Goddess,” she replied. “I ascended past the Grandmaster-level to become something more, but it wasn’t Godhood. In fact, I think this is what caused my misfortunes to begin with. I don’t remember the process or what happened; in fact, I suspect the System naturally erases the knowledge of what occurs upon going past Grandmastery, for no Gods I ever met could tell me.”

This lined up with Orodan’s own experiences. Throughout the time loops no Gods he had asked were able to tell him just what the process for reaching Godhood was. He wasn’t short-sighted enough to dismiss the possibility that, in time, he too would surpass the Grandmaster-level. Given his rate of advancement and the abilities he held, it was almost a certainty. What came after that however… was something he’d heard nothing of. But something he’d have to confront all the same.

“Interesting… and it was after this ascension that enemies came for you?”

“Yes. After I ascended, multiple foes came for me and Vylrystia. I recall becoming the Subject of a Quest whose details I do not remember. Our world core was destroyed in the ensuing battles, and I was killed and had my soul shattered by an attack I’m certain was a war crime per divine law. In my final moments I staked my all upon a mad gamble to reach out anywhere. My soul hurtled through the void and reached our sister world, and I found myself in soul combat against a lich whose phylactery I intruded upon. Needless to say, I won the battle…”

“And you consequently ousted Exus Baldrimon, taking the place of his soul in the phylactery built by him,” Orodan finished. It was intriguing to him but would be horrifying to any lich to hear that their phylactery could essentially be broken into by wandering souls of sufficient power who needed a home.

“Not quite. Remember, this was over two hundred-thousand years ago,” Zaessythra explained. “The ancient lich, Exus Baldrimon, only ended up finding me fifteen-thousand years ago, and he was the most recent and renowned wielder. I admit to allowing him to parade me about for a while out of boredom, but he soon fell, and I was sealed away in a warded vault. I have had many wielders since my death and change, and I don’t recall who the original lich whose soul I ousted even was.”

An incredibly long history. Well before the time of the Void Horror’s ascent, before the Hasmathorian Empire, and quite possibly even before the elves of Eldiron. The history of the universe was ancient, and Orodan was humbled by the knowledge that Alastaia had such monumental events occur over two hundred millennia ago.

This being he spoke to, his book companion… was ancient beyond measure.

“From the carvings I saw in that rebel settlement, the dragons and dwarves helped these new enemies usurp you then?” Orodan asked. “No wonder my ring trembled when Varkir was near.”

“The dragons are a bunch of foul blood-purists. They hated us when we were created, and they hate any being with draconic blood that isn’t a pure dragon,” she elaborated. “The dwarves are rather greedy, although they were more of a mercenary force than a true enemy. We often employed them ourselves prior to my ascension.”

“Who was it then, that did this to you?” Orodan asked. “You seem to know Varkir, and in one of my earlier loops you mentioned a Hegemony.”

“The Hegemony… do not make an enemy of them Orodan, they are dangerous beyond anything you’ve seen,” Zaessythra warned. “The universe has a long history and there have been many Gods who’ve ascended. Gods of greater power than the fledgling ones who are limited to just this world. The divine realm has its own politics as a consequence, and the Hegemony rule our section of creation with an iron fist. They have influence enough that they used Varkir as one of their hired mercenaries in the battle against me. I don’t remember what I did to earn their ire, but it was doubtlessly tied to ascending past the Grandmaster-level and not becoming a Goddess. My world was descended upon by their ‘crusaders’ shortly after. Avoid these beings, they will be your ruin. Even if you’re a time looper your soul core being breached will leave you a hollow shell, like I was.”

Orodan carefully absorbed all Zaessythra told him and pondered on the thought of making new and powerful enemies in his loops. True, currently they’d done nothing to him, and in all likelihood this ‘Hegemony’ didn’t even know Orodan Wainwright existed. Whatever had been done to Zaessythra was long past, and who knew if the same people held the same motivations, and what those motivations even were.

In other words, it would be beyond stupid for him to think of setting a goal of finding and picking a fight with this unseen and powerful organization of Gods and their crusaders.

So why then, was Orodan Wainwright thinking of doing exactly that?

“Orodan…” Zaessythra warned. “I can see that look on your face. You know not the forces you would be making an enemy of. I am grateful to you for helping me remember my identity… I truly am. And with that gratitude in mind, I do not wish to see my savior turned into an amnesiac husk like myself, spending her day to day struggling to grasp the past. Having your soul core breached and damaged isn’t the same as whatever soul assaults you’ve experienced thus far… it could permanently ruin your access to the System and your skill levels. That you’ve gotten me this far at all is enough, please, just let it go.”

“Let it go? They descended unto your world and destroyed both you and Vylrystia,” Orodan said. “I’m not about to proclaim my enmity for them this instant; but if you think I’ll forget about this, you don’t know me well enough.”

If Orodan was stubborn enough to make the dwarves’ maltreatment of their enemies his problem, then making an enemy of multiple powerful Gods was simply a matter of scale. Who he was at core hadn’t changed. If he saw a problem he didn’t like, he would make it his problem.

“Foolish boy, I’ve come to understand your bull-headed ways well,” she reprimanded. “And it’s because I know you that I’m doing my best to warn you against this course of action. What happens when you’re stuck in a mindless stupor for many millennia as the loops go on around you? What if you forget who you are entirely? What if you can’t access your System any longer? I don’t wish to see you harmed in such a way. I’ve accepted my fate, just please… don’t add another person to the list of those who’ve paid the price for my ambitions…”

“It wasn’t your ambition that got you in this mess, it was the Hegemony and their tyranny,” Orodan corrected. “Stop blaming yourself. If my soul is destroyed, I’ll simply find a way to heal it. If my access to the System is curtailed, then I’ll simply find a way to restore it.”

And if he was crippled permanently? Then so be it. It was a risk he accepted.

From his very first loop Orodan accepted the fact that he was a fool meant to die in the initial charge of a battle. Why would that stop now? The knowledge of some all-powerful coalition of hostile Gods who ruled over his section of the universe with tyranny wouldn’t be enough to dissuade him.

Those who knew him often said his stubborn nature and lack of risk aversion were flaws. But not in this case. Here and now, they were his strengths. Facets of his personality that made him willing to offend unfathomable foes.

“Tch… do as you will,” Zaessythra spat, refusing to speak on the topic any longer.

Orodan planned on it.

It was a long way away, and nowhere near his primary goal in the long run. After all, he had the Eldritch Avatar to deal with, then he had a grudge to settle with certain Gods upon Alastaia who’d done him wrong.

And beyond even that… the prospect of ascending past the Grandmaster-level but not becoming a God? How did that even work? Orodan wasn’t sure, but the thought of it appealed greatly to him, even if Zaessythra knew nothing of the process.

In short, he had many goals, both short term and long term, and dealing with this Hegemony was beyond even the farthest of them at the moment.

Yet, it was kept in the back of his mind all the same.

For now, though, many months of training, teaching and experimentation lay ahead of him. Working with spatiomancy, learning new skills, and refining his existing Spatial Fold. Honing his crafts, teaching his students and Vespidia, working on his soul skills, cooking, tasting fine food, honing his physical skills, and of course, cleaning.

He also wanted to work on acquiring Time Mastery, although who knew how far he’d get before the Inter-Academy Tournament less than four months away.

A great number of things would come to a head there.

His student competing, his plan to free Faraine, and the inevitable conflict that would occur if he succeeded. Vespidia supposedly had a plan for it, and only time would tell if it all worked out.

And beyond that, the familiar descending foe.

Like that, almost four months had passed.

Not much occurred politically. The elves had kept to their predicted response and not bothered Novarria since their meeting. The moon rush had simmered down a bit, but research teams led by Grandmasters were finding new things on a regular basis in the various ruins dotting the fallen world of Vylrystia.

Orodan had kept Zaessythra’s current state and full story to himself, but had allowed researchers into the world core, allowing them to record her name and some of the history of the former world.

Chiefly however, there were lots of gains made, even if the pace wasn’t as quick as he’d like in some higher-level skills due to the lack of life and death battles.

To begin with, spatiomancy had made some excellent gains and Orodan had truly shored up his foundations in that field. Space Mastery had gained twenty-five levels and gone from 12 to 37. Orodan Wainwright was now a Space Apprentice, and while he would never introduce himself with that title… his bias against mages and magical fields was greatly muted nowadays. That spatiomancy was incredibly convenient was a factor in that opinion shift. At the Apprentice-level of Space Mastery he could control the flows of space, lock it down and do other ludicrous feats when combined with his raw power.

Spatial Fold had gone from 15 to 41, an increase of twenty-six levels over the many months of constantly practicing with it. He had too much to lose in this loop and didn’t want to risk getting lost in the void… but in tandem with his increased Space Mastery, he suspected he could shoot farther than just the moon now.

In addition, he’d acquired the Rare rarity Teleportation skill after much study, and it sat at level 11 from his practice with it. According to Balastion himself after he teleported into his chamber, Orodan’s ability to bypass any anti-teleportation wards through brute force made him a frighteningly effective assassin. He still needed to acquire the Spatial Sense skill to truly teleport across the world at will, but as it currently stood Orodan could teleport anywhere he’d been to, and no wards were capable of stopping him.

Not everything went smoothly though, as his Dimensionalism skill had gained only five levels and sat at level 6 despite four months of time dilation aided study. It truly was a difficult skill to make gains in, and his repeated attempts to study and take apart spatial rings and other dimensional storages hadn’t gotten him very far. Still, once he made progress, Orodan felt he could even leverage his expertise to perform ridiculous feats. As it stood, he could currently create large dimensions with is raw power, but they decayed rather quickly due to his low level in the skill.

Spatiomancy aside, his studies in pyromancy went rather well.

Fire Magic Mastery had jumped from 16 to 34, and Orodan was now a Fire Magic Apprentice. If he were the old Orodan Wainwright of the county militia, he’d have been re-assigned to a mage academy upon discovery of this fact. Pyromancers could work mundane jobs at magical forges or alongside other crafters, but they were quite valued as bombardment specialists capable of bringing great devastation on command. A Fire Magic Apprentice would be a prized student to be cultivated into something more.

Draconic Fireball had gained twelve levels, going from 32 to 44, and Orodan suspected he could destroy entire cities with it now, especially when used alongside Draconic Mana Channelling which went from 51 to 54. Flare, a low rarity skill meant to provide a mere light show, could likely kill a Master and blind an entire city of people with its brightness. It went from 44 to 52, crossing into the Adept-level.

Alongside all this, his Mana Manipulation went from 55 to 58, increasing the ease with which he could use mana.

On the matter of his soul, his soul skills had experienced decent gains over the months. Absolute Soul Dominion in particular was used to great effect. His efforts in using soul energy to empower his spatiomancy and his efforts in granting permanent increases to the mana generation rates of people had pushed the Mythical skill from 72 to 76. It slowed down past the level 75 bottleneck, but it was still excellent progress. As a result of all his work with the soul, Soul Mastery had gone from 63 to 71, and Orodan could call himself a Soul Elite.

His honing of his body hadn’t fallen to the wayside either. Novarria was wealthy and had all manner of exotic treasures and goods, and one of the things Orodan had repurposed to fit his Body Tempering needs was a box of orbs found in the abyssal depths during Balastion’s venture there which expelled gravitational force outwards. Of course… what if Orodan ate one and tried to keep his body intact as the force attempted to explode him from the inside?

That was his thought process, and it’d led to gains in Body Tempering as the skill went from 44 to 56. He’d was now at the level where he’d taken to swallowing two orbs at once. His body felt even more powerful than before, and he felt as though he could shatter a county of the Republic with a downward punch, aided by naught but his Physical Fitness. Each level of Physical Fitness went further the higher his Body Tempering was. It was why a dragon for example, would be stronger than a human of the same Physical Fitness. Body Tempering allowed Orodan to also possess such an advantage and be far stronger than his species and Physical Fitness would suggest.

And physicality aside, his crafts had all progressed quite wonderfully.

Woodworking had gone from 62 to 67, getting rather close to the Elite-level, and Wood Communion had increased from 50 to 56. Taken together, Orodan could consider himself in the upper ten percent of the world’s Woodworkers. Even near-Adept Woodworkers could open their own shop, and Orodan was now a near-Elite Woodworker with a Legendary rarity skill to commune with wood. Demosthenos had told Orodan that Novarria’s top Woodworking Grandmaster had approached him to ask whether he’d be interested in a mentorship opportunity as his direct disciple on the side.

Appealing as it would be, the Inter-Academy Tournament and the descent of the Eldritch were too close, and Orodan had too many other things to do this loop than spend time as the disciple to a Woodworker. Another loop, perhaps just crafting didn’t sound like a bad idea.

Alchemy had increased from 60 to 64, and it was primarily due to Orodan’s experimentation with random ingredients that led to the gain. Following textbook curriculum wasn’t cutting it anymore, and he’d more or less become familiar with the current academic foundations behind the Imperial tradition of alchemy. A loop spent in the Eastern Kingdoms might help, or perhaps one in Eldiron. Experimenting by himself using random ingredients was possible, but time consuming and involved copious amounts of theory and guess work. Additionally, Orodan knew that certain prized alchemists had skills which allowed them to see exactly what types of energies and effects an ingredient had and what it would do. Those were the alchemists who synthesized new recipes and made breakthroughs in the field. Without first acquiring such a skill, experimentation was harder than Orodan thought it’d be.

Enchanting, however, had made some fantastic gains thanks to his focused studies of the runic enchanted dagger he’d taken from the treasuries of the dwarves. Thavri thought it a trick when Orodan wanted one of the cheapest and least valuable runic enchanted items they had, but it was far from one. Rather, compared to all the priceless treasures in the dwarven vaults, this basic dagger was invaluable as a learning tool. The runic enchantment upon it was so basic that Orodan could clearly see how he could improve upon his own.

Even if Runic Enchanting was a different skill altogether, it had enough similarities to regular Enchanting that Orodan was able to acquire massive benefits from studying the dagger. His Enchanting had gone from 47 to 59 over the months of study; crossing into the Adept-level and making Orodan capable of some rather decent work if he said so himself. He now felt more than qualified to begin learning soul energy enchantments, and when that day came… he would finally enchant his loyal sword and shield.

Blacksmithing went from 42 to 49. Progress was truly slow. Or rather, it was one of the few skills where Orodan made gains at the speed of a student with below average talent. His endless energy and action increases didn’t give him too much benefit, and he just didn’t feel as connected to metal as he did wood. If his life’s focus was Blacksmithing, he’d have to swallow the bitter pill that he just wasn’t a natural talent in it. Yes, that many levels in almost four months was good, but nothing truly prodigious. Without additional insights, he saw himself facing a serious bottleneck at level 75 and might even struggle to pass into the Elite-level.

Orodan’s beloved sword and shield were provided by the Volarbury county militia, however the suppliers varied from town to town. The Ogdenborough barracks had their weapons smithed by a near-Adept blacksmith from Scarmorrow, and Orodan was now confident that he could at least smith a better sword and shield for himself than their original creator had.

Jewelcrafting had made some good gains, increasing from 36 to 48. Orodan’s ability to polish and empower jewels was approaching the Adept-level, and he’d begun producing precious gemstones usable in Enchanting and Magic Rituals. Employment in a jeweller’s shop was a possibility if he so desired.

Basic Healing had increased from 25 to 33, entering the Apprentice-level, and Orodan felt good about patching people up from most traumatic injuries.

Cooking gained twelve levels, and Gourmand gained five. The latter skill was difficult to level unless Orodan savored unique dishes with exotic tastes. But it made a difference as his body genuinely felt slightly better overall, as though each cell was nourished with just a bit more and he could appreciate life further. It was a weird method of gaining strength, and Aliya would agree as she hated seeing him and Zukelmux partake in the delicacies of goblin style cuisine.

And most importantly of all… Cleaning. It had sailed upwards without delay, going from 81 to 87. Orodan had cleaned every single building in the royal district and was halfway done cleaning the entirety of the noble district of Novar’s Peak. The nobility didn’t dare ask questions whenever Orodan showed up with cleaning supplies in tow. It was simply an accepted fact of life that Orodan Wainwright would clean your home down to the smallest smidge of dirt whenever he came by. His Cleaning skill really wasn’t facing any of the bottlenecks that came with going past level 75. At this pace, he wondered if it would even become his first Grandmaster-level skill.

Every time he cleaned, he also philosophized about what exactly Cleaning was, and his understanding of the concept was quite in-depth compared to most of his other skills.

Vision of Purity also advanced from 49 to 56, crossing into the Adept-level. As did Whirlpool Whirlwind as Orodan used it for fine applications of Cleaning. The skill went from 55 to 59.

The final skill that had made gains, was Teaching. It gained fifteen levels, and the results were apparent in the three individuals seated before him.

“So, I can actually come with you and watch the fights?” Aliya asked.

“Of course, it’ll be a good learning opportunity for you now that you’re halfway into the Apprentice-level,” Orodan replied. “Seeing how powerful Elite-level individuals fight will be good for you. The exposure to various weapons and styles of combat will broaden your horizons.”

The little girl whose family he had relocated from Scarmorrow had come quite far. Orodan was certain it wasn’t just the Teaching skill, but his insane methods of training which had given her such a head start for her age. Every time they delved somewhere he would impose restrictions upon her or give her difficult tasks to accomplish. Suffice to say, she was worked to the bone at all hours of the day and recovered via potions whenever she was too tired to continue.

She was without a doubt the strongest child of her age he’d ever met. If this was back in Ogdenborough, Orodan could actually see the current Aliya beating a weaker non-Adept guard or two from House Argon. Her Physical Fitness was high for her age, as was her Combat Mastery which Orodan had focused on through extensive spars and ‘surprise combat sessions.’

“Teacher… I will make you proud in this tournament,” Zukelmux said. “I’ll reach at least the semi-finals!”

“While I appreciate the sentiment, compete for yourself Zukelmux,” Orodan replied. “Much like Vespidia here, there’s a few contestants who can fight at the Grandmaster-level. I don’t expect you to face them and win. I’m proud of how far you’ve come regardless.”

His student nodded in assent, and then Orodan turned to Vespidia.

“What? You’re not about to give me some sentimental speech before we make way for Marasthus, are you?” she asked. “You’ve brutalized me every chance you’ve gotten, thrown me to foes beyond my ability to handle and given me some of the most ridiculous challenges and handicaps I’ve ever heard of.”

“Well… yes. But that was just proper training! I don’t see you complaining about all the skill levels you’ve gained,” Orodan retorted. “I’m reasonably confident you can get that elf to loosen the restraints and give control to Faraine now.”

“Reasonably confident? I’ve made more increases in skill levels in the past four months than I have in a hundred years,” she replied. “Your training methods are insane.”

Orodan didn’t see what she was whining about. Yes, it was unpleasant and sometimes rather dangerous, but he was supervising the entire time and would step in if things approached lethal levels. Admittedly, throwing Vespidia into melee combat against a Death Roach was a bit much, but if she couldn’t dare to approach superior enemies in combat, then how could she hope to confront Othorion Evertree and force him to bring Faraine to the fore?

They engaged in idle chatter for a bit longer before Aliya and Zukelmux had to leave to prepare for the journey to Marasthus.

“I hope your plan works,” Orodan said. “I’m confident in shattering the runes upon him through Warrior’s Reciprocity, but you’ll need to force him to that point. And as for dealing with the immediate response from the elven Avatars after… you’d better be quick enough to enact your part of the plan.”

“I’ll do my part,” she said. “I know you’d love nothing more than to engage in an extended battle against them, but I don’t plan on allowing it to that point. You might even manage to eventually kill one of their Avatars… but the collateral damage would be titanic and cause the Eastern Kingdoms to be drawn into the conflict.”

Which would be rather undesirable and a part of the reason why Orodan hadn’t wanted to advance past the first gate either. He was a killer who had killed and, in all likelihood, would continue to kill. But he didn’t enjoy slaughtering people for the sake of it. When his battles could wipe the smaller nations of the Eastern Kingdoms off the map through collateral damage… he felt at least some responsibility to ensure it didn’t come to that.

“Well, with that being said, I believe Balastion wanted to speak to us before we made way for Marasthus,” Orodan said. “Shall we?”

“You’re the one capable of Teleportation, go ahead and cast your fancy spell,” Vespidia said.

His soul energy manipulated the waves of space, and a blur of blue light enveloped them both. Before she knew it, in a blink, both he and Vespidia were within Balastion Novar’s chamber.

The first emperor of Novarria paused his ruminations on his crown and looked up.

“Orodan, Vespidia, I’ve been expecting you,” he said. “Are you both prepared for what we’ll soon face?”

“As ready as we’ll ever be your Majesty,” Vespidia replied.

“The bigger question is… how is your training with the crown going Balastion?” Orodan asked. “Do you think you’ll make a breakthrough in the middle of battle with the insights you’ve gathered?”

“I’m close… I feel it,” the first emperor replied. He said no more on the topic.

Orodan couldn’t help but have an ominous feeling in his heart. He had come to respect Balastion Novar as something of a friend, and not the worst ruler he’d seen. He knew that Balastion possessed the crown since his coronation nineteen-thousand years ago during the formation of the Empire of Novarria… but for him to ruminate on his crown for so long and still not be any closer to gaining Eldritch Resistance?

Certain skills just couldn’t be gained outside of battle, and Orodan would hope to whatever karmic force was out there, that Balastion passed his tribulation when the time came for him to actually face the Eldritch. Yes, the city of Novar’s Peak was set up to drain the Eldritch Avatar of its power, but no warding scheme or ritual was perfect, and Balastion himself admitted they would still face some of its Eldritch power.

“And what of our potential allies in the upcoming battle?” Orodan asked. “What did the World Guardians and the Gods of Guzuhar say about joining us?”

“A little skeptical, but they’ve agreed on the condition that you prove your feat of spatiomancy by actually drawing the enemy to Novar’s Peak first,” Balastion replied. “They will be waiting in the Valley of Spires, and once they see you’ve succeeded, I’ve made arrangements for them to be allowed teleportation to the heart of the city to join our battle. I’ve even convinced the Prime Five to join us as the battle is on their home continent. Thavri unfortunately has declined to partake…”

That came as no surprise to him given the note he and the under-mountain confederation had ended on. He didn’t hate them, but he would never agree with how they treated peaceful orc tribes and drow prisoners who were at their mercy.

“That’s fine. I’ll make up the difference,” Orodan replied. “Demosthenos informed me that the preparations for evacuating the city’s inhabitants to the Romnara Isles are underway.”

“Good, good,” Balastion replied. “With them gone, our battleground will be clear, and we can fight without concern. You have a grim look upon your face Orodan, why is that? We shall be victorious my friend! Do not doubt our odds.”

Orodan wanted to allow Balastion’s cheer and zeal to affect him, but alas, it couldn’t. Twice now the Eldritch Avatar had proven its might by surviving some incredibly heavy odds. If it were just a matter of fighting it, Orodan wouldn’t care one whit. After all, fighting was what he lived for.

The problem was all the lives that depended on their victory, and the consequences of defeat. Aliya, Zukelmux, Zaessythra who he’d come to grow close with and respect. Even Vespidia and Balastion…

…it would all disappear if he failed. And while Orodan feared not for himself. The thought of losing all these people, it disquieted him and brought back the sorrowful memories of his last battle and loop against the Eldritch Avatar.

“Damn… I’m coming to realize I might hate long loops,” Orodan thought to himself. “Life is so much easier when I don’t get close to people.”

He couldn’t lose… he refused.

Do and do not die. For death was not an option. He would have to defeat the Eldritch Avatar and complete the Quest in this loop.

How he would do it? He didn’t know. But Orodan hoped Balastion’s preparations and his own increased strength alongside their allies would be enough.

The Eldritch Avatar could be killed. He had done it in the last long loop even if he’d died to achieve it. His Warrior’s Reciprocity was stronger; he could survive more damage, and it was definitely doable even if he didn’t have the assistance of three Gods possessing his body.

Tomorrow, the events which would lead into calamity would begin.

The Inter-Academy Tournament in Marasthus where Orodan planned on intervening in Othorion Evertree’s match at the last moment in the hopes of freeing Faraine. An event which could very well spark an all-out war between Eldiron and Novarria, and which ran the risk of obliterating a good portion of the Eastern Kingdoms if Orodan fought the elven Avatars there and then. The lives of many would be counting on Vespidia.

And beyond that, two weeks after the Tournament, the descent of the familiar Eldritch Star.

A foe who Orodan had been preparing himself to fight for a very long time now. Unlike last loop, this time he planned on winning. No matter what stops he had to pull out and what breakthroughs he had to make.

To free a Goddess and break the Eldritch; the strength and will of one warrior against the might of elven supremacy and otherworldly horror.

Orodan Wainwright sought to stubbornly stand before all comers.

THIS CHAPTER UPLOAD FIRST AT NOVELBIN.COM