***

Malik wasn’t planning anything.

He was doing.

The Will that poured out of him was nothing close to what he had produced before.

This was much stronger. Purer. It was a Will far above his newly unlocked Class—Class Nine, Veil of the World.

It was an Angel’s Will.

Ding!

—

╔═════════════╗

║UNLOCKED CLASS!║

╚═════════════╝

[You Have Stepped Closer To Your Truth.]

—

Perhaps that was a natural expectation considering that his very makeup was becoming closer to his Truth...

As the system liked to always say.

This time, the changes he felt were very painful.

It was as if his body was killing what was and regrowing itself anew.

His bones ached, his muscles burned, and his blood felt like it was boiling in his veins.

Whatever scars he had faded.

Angelhood was painful.

Yet he showed none of that pain.

He remained still on the throne, his back straight and his face calm.

His right fist rested on the armrest while his golden eyes stared straight ahead.

The only sign of his suffering was the sweat that beaded on his forehead and the slight tremor in his jaw.

Ding!

—

╔════════════╗

║UNLOCKED RUNE!║

╚════════════╝

[Scorpion’s Sting]

[Rune Description: This Rune reflects the strike of the desert.]

—

Indeed, Malik had unlocked the next Class, gaining access to a new Rune.

Though once again, the description was vague; he instantly understood the Rune.

Knowledge had poured into him along with the power, filling the gaps in his understanding.

And it was strong...

At least when in tandem with other Runes.

With Scorpion’s Sting, Malik could turn his fire even deadlier by adding a near-never-ending devouring quality to it, like poison.

A flame that slowly devoured the enemy upon contact, burning through flesh, bone, and Rukh alike.

It allowed for a lingering death meant to punish.

The Rune also provided incredible and sudden boosts of strength upon attacking.

With enough Rukh, even in this weakened state, Malik could cut something of a small ravine into the ground.

Again, this was a supporting Rune; using it alone seemed to be far from ideal.

Unfortunately, for his current needs at least, it didn’t seem to be all that useful.

It was far from bad news, however.

Malik had expected this alone to take a month.

The jump from Class Ten to Class Nine felt monumental, a wall that required weeks of effort to scale.

Instead, it hadn’t taken even days.

Though interestingly and surprisingly, he didn’t gain any memories this time.

He had waited in a mental brace, prepared to face the flood of forgotten moments and the weight of a crown he’d only just begun carrying.

Nothing came.

Only the pain of Ascension.

A pain that eventually passed.

Sighing out loud, Malik gripped his left hand into a fist a few times, feeling the new strength coiled in his muscles, then turned back to his system.

—

╔════════╗

║Fear System║

╚════════╝

{Class: 9 (Veil of the World)}

{Unlocking Class (8): 0 / 1,544}

{Fear Points: 678 → 18}

{Soul Glyphs: Ember’s Touch (Peak) x 1, Shifting Ground (Single) x 1, Goliath’s Fall (Peak)}

{Invaders Fear}

[Order (Class One) — 16 % Increasing!]

[Southern Cross (Class Three) — 22 % Increasing!]

[Owls Faction (Class Five) — 38 % Increasing!]

[Walkers Faction (Class Six) — 45 % Increasing!]

[Maharajah Faction (Class Seven) — 49 % Increasing!]

{Items}

[Holy Relic — Stranger’s Ring]

[Holy Relic — Golden Throne]

[Holy Relic — Spine Splitter]

[Holy Relic — Stranger’s Necklace]

{Runes}

[Ember’s Touch — Rank 5]

[Goliath’s Fall — Rank 5] 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

[Scorpion’s Sting — Rank 5]

{Traits}

[Wielder Of Spine Breaker]

[Sultan of Blood and Fire]

[Misunderstood Villain]

[Bane Of Corruption]

[Lifter Of The Gate]

[Flipper Of Armies]

[Second Sun]

["Stranger"]

{Quests}

{Shop}

[Soul Glyphs]

[Embers Touch — 16 FP (Single) | 64 FP (Peak)]

[Goliath’s Fall — 16 FP (Single) | 64 FP (Peak)]

[Scorpion’s Sting — 8 FP (Single) | 16 FP (Peak)]

[Devil’s Footsteps — 16 → 8 FP (Single) | 32 → 16 FP (Peak)]

[Zephyr’s Kiss — 32 → 16 FP (Single) | 64 → 32 FP (Peak)]

[Shifting Ground — 64 → 32 FP (Single) | 128 → 64 FP (Peak)]

[Eternal Life — 128 → 64 FP (Single) | 256 → 128 FP (Peak)]

[Thirst’s Quench — 256 → 128 FP (Single) | 512 → 256 FP (Peak)]

[Dust to Stone — 512 → 256 FP (Single) | 1024 → 512 FP (Peak)]

{Wheel Of Fortune}

[One Roll — 12 FP]

[Fate Points: None]

—

’Now then...’

Malik first noticed the incredible number of Fear Points required to reach the next class.

One thousand five hundred and forty-four. More than double what he had just spent.

The climb was getting steeper.

He wasn’t surprised this time.

The pattern was beyond clear now.

His focus shifted to what to spend his remaining Fear Points on.

Eighteen points, not enough for a peak Soul Glyph that was able to guarantee his victory.

Was he finally going to purchase Scorpion’s Sting? Or perhaps Devil’s Footsteps, since it had gotten cheap enough?

But no.

Malik’s eyes were on something else entirely.

—

{Wheel Of Fortune}

[One Roll — 12 FP]

[Fate Points: None]

—

Like earlier, he knew that he would be better off playing it safe.

He could buy a peak Soul Glyph, even if it were a supporting one, save the remaining points, and walk away with something useful.

The smart and responsible choice.

But he was just too curious.

What else could he get from this mysterious wheel?

His previous roll had given him Cyrus’s Diary, seemingly useless gossip about a dead Sultan’s personal affairs.

But this roll could be something way better.

Something that would help him way more than a mere supporting Rune!

Was he showing signs of a gambling addiction?

Perhaps.

Was he going to admit that?

No.

’I’m no addict. One roll.’

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick—

DING!

—

{Cyrus’s Diary (2/?)!}

—

"..."

"..."

"..."

Malik clasped his face with his hand.

His fingers pressed against his forehead, covering his eyes.

Only his golden irises remained visible, staring between his fingers, looking up at the ceiling.

’...Of course.’

It had to be the one thing he didn’t want.

***

Outside the Sultan’s Hall, Azeem and the two shadows kept struggling to stand.

They were utterly helpless, despite the fact that Malik’s Will had already passed.

It was an utterly hilarious sight.

But that didn’t mean that they had given up.

Tarek, joining Azeem, had managed to lift his chest a few inches off the floor.

"I... I can..."

His voice came out strained, each letter a battle.

"I can almost..."

No, he could not.

"Ugh!"

His arms gave out, and he collapsed back onto the stone with a loud grunt.

The other shadow, a woman whose name Azeem didn’t remember, tried a different approach.

"We... need..."

She rolled onto her side, then her stomach, and then tried to crawl towards the gate.

"We need... to..."

Her fingers scraped against the floor while her boots pushed against it, moving her an inch.

"Report..."

She moved another. Then another. Then her body flattened again, and she could not move further.

"We need to report this..."

Her voice was muffled by the floor.

"The assassin..."

Tarek turned his head towards her.

"Can’t... report... if... can’t... stand..."

Azeem lay between them, his face pressed against the marble.

’This... is... ridiculous.’

He had annihilated many millions of Demons, thousands of invaders, and traitors.

He stood on battlefields that would drive the greatest of men mad.

Azeem was the Sultan’s Right Hand!

’And I am... being... defeated by a... damned gate!’

No, that wouldn’t stand!

Eventually, and finally, he rose to his knees.

For a moment, he thought he had succeeded.

He was upright.

He was moving.

He was—

"Gah!"

Azeem slammed back onto the floor, spitting blood.

"Loooooord Azeeeem!"

Perhaps this report of theirs would never reach Malik.