The Harvester-Chapter 459: Haunted Departure

Arvis stomped on the trodden ground of the castle hall. After nearly fifteen minutes of fighting, their direct surroundings had been thoroughly ruined. With a rageful cry, he swung his sword at Rakna, carrying explosive spells along its edge.

The werewolf laughed lightly and unhesitatingly met it head-on. As soon as they clashed, a burst of dark mana erupted to release the spells, but before it could, a maw of violet light swallowed it.

The two forces mutually erased themselves and an attack that should have leveled down half the castle was snuffed out without struggle. As per Arvis’ frustrated growl, this hadn’t been the first time.

To make things worse, the section of the floor that had been damaged was a perfect circle drawn by Rakna’s initiative. Even when Arvis had tried to breach it out of spite, the only outcome he got was a prompt change of scenery; lying flat on the ground in the center of the circle.

"Damn it...!" Arvis gnashed his teeth until they made noise. He built up mana inside his muscles instead of casting and punched Rakna with his free hand. The werewolf reacted in kind and countered fist to fist.

The transformed dark mage lost his arm once again.

But unlike at the start where the violet light had practically sliced it into pieces fainter than dust, this time, it was much more graphic in nature. It was torn apart, with bits and pieces flying away.

"What is that magic?" Arvis growled, trying to deflect Sonata’s next strike only for the light to once again carve into his body; his regeneration was failing to catch up.

"Is it not magic," Rakna replied calmly, briefly using his polearm as a pivot to spin a kick into his opponent’s side. His leg was wrapped in the same violet blur. When it collided with Arvis’ flesh, a ripple spread out from the point impact and then repeated the same gory process.

"Agh...!" Arvis coughed blood as a quarter of his torso was crushed to bits. He stepped back once and then fell on his knee panting.

Rakna lowered his leg and shouldered Sonata. "It’s Intent," he continued. "My Embodiment gives starlight to my Internal Art. It ripples outward, ruptures matter, enters the gaps, and combusts, discharging a given type of Intent," he explained.

"What kind... of nonsense...?" Arvis uttered as his body slowly healed.

"True, you probably don’t know what Intent is," Rakna hummed. "Shortly said, what just crushed your arm and guts is Fist Intent. Though with kicks, well... I don’t know actually," he blinked in thought. "Foot Intent...? That sounds weird."

The werewolf waved his hand, banishing the thought away. "Anyway. Basically, this starlight will carry my Intent. If I use Sonata; Glaive Intent will slice you a thousand times over from the inside out. If I use Fist Intent, your flesh and bones will be crushed by blunt force in the same way."

Rakna stretched his neck as he talked, "Same thing with your spells. At the end of the day, even energy can be cut if a slash is powerful enough. Multiply it, and it all just disperses."

"You monster..."

"I don’t want to hear that from you," Rakna deadpanned. "You’re the ugliest one here."

"..."

Meanwhile, the gallery spectating the fight was hopelessly docile. Even the two mighty paladins of the Church could only stand as shields for their Pope. Of course, they did pay attention to the battle, but under their armor, they paled at the werewolf’s strength.

To them, he was like a storm. They had never even heard of such a creature until a week ago and here they witnessed firsthand its unmatched prowess. Furthermore, an individual with similarly unknown origins had visited their Church recently, somehow convincing the Pope to attend this specific event.

They felt like something only explicable by God was occurring at this moment.

In contrast, Dominicus’ eyes were shining as he watched Rakna. "Fascinating..."

Not far, Fia rubbed her own arms to chase away the chill. This wasn’t a world where she could be weak enough to faint at violence, but such bloody injuries were not something she was normally exposed to.

"Darius... how strong is he?" She asked her butler who diligently protected her with a small-scale barrier. He was staring at the werewolf as if trying to unravel all its secrets.

"...the strength he is displaying here is not what scares most of the people here," he responded a few seconds after the question was voiced. He glanced at several people in the hall who were not much weaker than himself and they were all frozen stiff.

"Huh?" Fia exclaimed. "What do you mean?"

"My lady, remember... this is just one," he said. "Just one of the colors uncovered by that bell."

* * *

After an additional five minutes of Rakna continuously manifesting his Intent in various shapes, sizes, speeds, and intensities, he finally stopped. Allowing Arvis, who was more blood than flesh at that point, a breather.

"This has gone on long enough," Rakna struck the ground with the butt of his polearm. "I cannot say in good faith that I enjoy torturing a defenseless man," he scoffed. "How about I give you one last chance? Would you like to surrender and snitch on your little dark friends for us?"

"Ha... Haha..." The mangled figure of Arvis shook as he cackled. "How absurd..." He rasped out and straightened his spine almost forcefully. With his eyes narrowed to slits, he threw his sword away like some junk. "Your ultimatum is wildly insolent, don’t you think?"

"I appreciate the compliment."

"..." The dark mage silently conjured a sphere of dark magic in his hand, before immediately swallowing it. The energy diffused into his body, burning his insides. "Argh...!" He clawed at his own throat as ominous smoke came out of his mouth.

Rakna frowned at that, genuinely wary. "...idiot. Not only using your organs as receptacles for magic but also burning your life force in the process...it’s a doubly stupid idea. You’ve shaved off half your life already just by starting this."

"Hahaha... to wipe out this kingdom... there is nothing I forbid myself," Arvis declared, his physique mutating from the influx of magic. "You’ve never met him, have you? That repulsive dog of a father who dragged my mother to suicide. Fate was too kind to him; a deathbed isn’t a proper penance."

Filiana quietly hung her head low while the werewolf’s eyes indifferently stared at him. "Stories like that are a dime a dozen," he retorted. "Do you seek pity from me when all you can do is steer your misery toward the innocent?"

"Hahaha," Arvis laughed good-naturedly. "Why not? Pity is misery’s currency. I could always have more."

"..."

"You misunderstand the point, beast," he added and flexed his muscles. "I have fallen. I lost everything years ago. There is no path forward available to me. So... I will fall more. The speed at which I reach the bottom is irrelevant. This is not a sacrifice."

The transformed mage kicked the ground and whipped the air into a tornado. He appeared right in front of Rakna and punched forward with all his strength. A mud-like aura of darkness veiled his body as he hit Sonata’s shaft raised in defense.

The impact caused a shockwave that rattled the entire castle. Arvis passively acknowledged the yelp coming from his ’sister’ in the crowd whilst staring at the werewolf with a smirk. The latter had actually been pushed back by a meter from this attack.

"...a highway to hell, it is," Rakna blankly said after a short silence and kneed Arvis’ stomach. The dark mage gasped but this time, his body did not break apart from the Ghost Intent. But that did not worry the werewolf in the slightest.

He callously shoved his opponent away and swiped Sonata with his left hand whilst his right one closed into a fist. He retaliated with a punch of his own, containing more power and Intent than before. "[Fist of Rupture.]"

Arvis crossed his arms in response and the violet light made the air vibrate. He was knocked off his feet for a brief moment but he caught himself with a smirk; his limbs intact.

"...I see. The method you’re using has tightened the gaps in your molecules," Rakna commented. "A good counter to my Intent. Though it nonetheless doesn’t defend you from frontal shocks. The ripples may not penetrate you, but they will still spread on the surface of your body."

"It does not matter," Arvis snapped back and shook off the numbness in his arms. "There is no hope of survival in me. I rejoice in the small victories," he sneered.

Rakna huffed and wordlessly lodged Sonata in the ground. He cracked his knuckles and adopted a CQC stance. "Come on, fool. Let’s see how far your folly can carry you."

Arvis lunged forward and what followed was a lightning-fast exchange of blows. Each blow that landed caused the castle to quake and the spectators to cover their faces from the wind.

Barely anybody could follow the fighters with their eyes, but those that could, did not doubt who was winning. As far as physical strength went, they seemed equal, but there couldn’t have been a greater gap in skill.

The werewolf, somewhat contradictory to his appearance, was nothing short of masterful in his movements. The ghost-like movements were entrancing, as much as they were heavy. He could deflect Arvis’ fists with but a nudge of his fingers or the back of his hand.

Darius himself knew one other fact; the wolf was controlling the damage they caused. The truth was that every swing from Arvis should have blasted holes through the walls. But each time, no matter how powerful, the opposing forces always canceled out.

Once again... it was a terrifying sight.

Rakna tilted his head as a fist grazed his chin. His arm blurred and in the blink of an eye, he had dislocated the dark mage’s shoulder. Yet, the latter put it back in place by flexing his muscles and immediately tried to bust the werewolf’s eardrums in retaliation.

"You’re tenacious," Rakna commented as he stomped and destabilized the man before driving a claw of Intent into his chest. "[Coiling Exodus,]" he intoned, a spiral of violet light sticking to his hand as he twirled his wrist.

Arvis grunted as his body helplessly rotated like clockwork. He punched the ground before he hit his head and dug his hand into the ground. He roared as he unearthed a huge chunk of concrete foundations coated in his mana.

Rakna raised an eyebrow and swiped it away with a brush of his fingers. The ripples rammed it straight down, crashing into a cloud of dust. But behind it, a hideous-looking mass of mana had glued itself to Arvis’ arm, forming some kind of fleshy demonic form.

Its raw presence warped the air as it approached Rakna.

"[Soaring Exodus,]" the werewolf whispered as he thrust his palm from below. The violet Intent splashed like water, barely contending with Arvis’ attack until it managed to veer upward.

The ceiling promptly exploded open, carrying with it a sound similar to a sonic boom. The roof of the hall was ejected into the sky and the shockwave spread across the city.

Rakna quietly glanced at his trembling hand. "You’ve reached it. Your body is stronger than mine now," he eventually said. He was not lying; there was simply nothing admirable in trying to bring Obsidian Blood into the picture.

"Hah," Arvis slowly lowered his fuming arm. "But it’s not enough..."

"No, it isn’t," the werewolf calmly said and extended his hand. At his behest, Sonata flew into his grasp and he pointed the blade forward. Tendrils of Spiritual Intent crawled on the weapon and coalesced at the tip in the shape of a small violet star.

"[Haunted Sun,]" Rakna uttered and the miniature star inflated like a balloon, emitting rhythmic pulses and continuously alternating between different levels of opacity. The flames on its surface licked at the air menacingly.

Its effects were instantaneous; the debris on the ground turned to dust from exposure to its light and Arvis, bathed in it, haplessly collapsed on his knees, blood flowing from his eyes, nose, ears, and mouth.

He screamed in pain as the ’light’ assaulted his body. Despite his identity, everyone in the room grimaced at the sight, some looking away.

The violet star continued to emit pulses, shrinking with each of them, until it exhausted itself and naturally disappeared. Rakna grunted when it was done, gazing at the kneeling dark mage with a hint of respect.

Unlike how it appeared, he had invested a ludicrous amount of Intent into that star. It was to the point that Eye of Symphony had issued a warning. It was a technique that he had developed in order to attain a War Crest, after all. Somewhat still a prototype, it had a heavy toll.

It was his second-strongest technique; the first being Ghost Star of Rupture, which he had first unleashed on Tarnished Death’s Pasqat. He refrained from using that against Arvis for obvious reasons. For one, he still wasn’t capable of handling it properly and most pertinently, he did not want to obliterate the country he was trying to save.

"Any last words?" Rakna asked as he raised Sonata.

"...how futile this has all been," Arvis whispered bitterly and closed his eyes.

After a beat of silence, a flash cleaved the dark mage in half. It was then that Sonata granted him the honor of Clear Death; a vision that crossed the boundaries of victory and defeat. It was how death shone beautifully in Rakna’s eyes.

Forged deep within the earth’s embrace; pure and brilliant; as timeworn as stars; it glimmers in the eyes of the beholder; a treasure of nature born of temperance.

Arvis’ body did not bleed. It was immortalized in stone... a gleaming stone of pale blue, reflecting light from its edges. The elegance of Clear Death is found within a shell of carbon.

Thus, Rakna admired the diamond statue.

"Yes... this does make sense, doesn’t it?" He snorted to himself and without delay, Sonata began to glow. The diamond peacefully dissolved into a stream of light, more white than blue, and was absorbed through the Guandao’s sharp edge.

❮ ◈ ❯

Equation of Clear Death has successfully resolved.

Cardinal Sonata’s Attack will slightly increase for the next 14 minutes.

The Host’s Dark Magic Resistance will slightly increase for the next 4 minutes.

---

Dead Men Tell has synergized with the Perk.

The skill has been triggered automatically.

❮ ◈ ❯

Rakna didn’t even blink as the memories flooded in. Even without Eye of Symphony, memories capable of destabilizing Arch Madness were practically an impossibility.

At that moment, someone in the hall clapped. The werewolf turned around.

Dominicus smiled at him. "Beautiful," the man of God praised with genuine emotion. "You wield wondrous might, my friend. Furthermore, I thank you for showing me such an enchanting rite of burial. It was both a poignant and gentle spectacle."

"Burial..." Rakna repeated before smiling. "Right, that sounds rather accurate," he remarked and walked back to Filiana. At the same time, he snapped his fingers and gasps sounded as the roof and floor repaired themselves as if nothing had happened.

Once the werewolf returned to his spot behind her, the Queen took a deep breath, recomposing herself after what she had just seen. Frankly, she was also a bit annoyed. Toying with the hostile dark mage so close to potential victims could undermine her ’control’ over him in their eyes.

She groaned internally but spoke up nobly, "As you can see... while facilitated by my actions, this situation is a revelation of a risk we never considered before. Arvis may have very well ascended to the throne by harming my daughter, and we would have had a dark mage as king."

Several nobles scowled, wondering what she was leading with that statement.

"Which is why, I would like to take this occasion to consult all of you," she narrowed her eyes at the crowd. "For the safety of the current and future generations, amendments must be discussed on the matter of succession."

Silence blanketed the hall as the sharpest minds present slowly apprehended the meaning of her words. Even if they felt like they lacked a few details, the end result was obvious.

"...I agree," after a short while, a duke by the name of Rosch raised his voice. His peers looked at him in surprise. As one of the oldest people present, he stood proudly and firmly. "The rigidity of the succession laws has caused more harm than good. It is time we changed it."

Filiana’s expression loosened a bit, taken aback by the vote of confidence. While Rakna had told her to expect support, he also said that it would not matter. However, Rosch was one of the three most prominent dukes of their nation; his voice carried more weight than most.

"I-I am also of the same mind," Fia stuttered out, clearing her throat. She was oddly stiff but most people right now would have easily chalked it up to Rakna’s overwhelming presence. "It is secret to no one that my succession rights only have caused me troubles."

A few people furtively rolled their eyes. Of course, they knew; it also caused them trouble.

Filiana nodded. "That is why, I would like to propose an initiative here and now," she announced and flipped the mood once again. It wasn’t a hard concept to understand; what she was doing at the moment was subverting the authority that the king should have. But because he is dead, only the nobility and wealthy common folk can stop her.

On the other hand... it also meant that if they decided to cooperate, they could effectively change the law. The question was, did they have a choice?

"For this matter, I would like to consult His Holiness," Filiana turned toward Dominicus, whose eyes flashed mysteriously. "A trusted advisor suggested an idea. The power of royalty should not be carelessly wielded by human hands; it is a duty meant for the good of the people. As such, one can never rely on those who are led astray by mortal desires."

Dominicus smiled thinly. "That is a very insightful opinion, Your Majesty, I commend the wisdom of your advisor. But what would you require of me in that case?"

"I believe the crown to be a sacred power," Filiana mirrored his smile, albeit more subdued. "And there should be no better guide than God’s voice. That is why... I encourage the Church to be in charge of coronations and to dictate the crown in times when it shall better serve the people. In this way, we can also guarantee that no dark mage will ever rise to power."

A cup shattered on the floor as its owner stumbled in disbelief amidst the crowd. They weren’t alone. Several people paled at the implication of her words.

Only Dominicus seemed delighted. "Oh my, quite the honor you are offering us," he said. "I do not know what to do with myself after hearing it. Hm... but I am unsure," he rubbed his chin. "This is rather unfair to your country, isn’t it? How about this instead; a bloodline consecration."

Rakna raised an eyebrow, unnoticed. ’That’s something I didn’t hear about.’

"Let me explain further," the Pope added as if he had heard his thoughts. "With a Holy Ritual, we shall engrave a blessing onto the blood of a chosen one. As such, their descendants will share the approval of God. However, the Church shall reserve the right to revoke it in case the royal family is judged to be acting irresponsibly toward the common folk."

Filiana silently breathed in; that sounded even better than what Rakna had promised her.

"What do you think?" Dominicus asked smilingly. "Acceptable?"

"That... is more than acceptable."

"Wonderful," he nodded. "In that case, let’s convene together, ladies and gentlemen," he spoke to the crowd. "Does this arrangement satisfy you? And whom would you think is most appropriate to bear the mark of God?"

His voice sounded innocent. His wording was incisive. His tone was incurious.

Those three things made the tongues of the nobility sting. Already, the guests of lower class, such as barons, merchants, and spellblades carrying medals of honor, were stepping back.

Everybody knew what was going on here now. And the first person who spoke would—

"I-I recommend my mother!" Fia shyly raised her voice.

—determine the conclusion of the conversation.

* * *

In the end, nobody could stop it.

Dominicus had been publicly agreeable toward Filiana from the start. Her daughter, who was the only existing key to succession prior to this, strongly praised her mother’s competence, arguing it was politically correct for the Queen to hold power.

And it was also then that many people realized; Filiana had never said the word ’king’ during her proposal. She had skirted around it with words like ’royalty’ and ’crown’.

Furthermore, what could anyone say in opposition?

The Church was not just an immense force. Religion was such that its power crossed the borders of countries. It was present everywhere. They had their own armies and headquarters to go with it. The Pope stood at the summit of that pyramid; disputing him was irrational.

And he was blatantly showing favoritism. Consecrating royalty meant that the Church’s influence would only increase. They would become de-facto monarchs behind a figurehead, who is merely allowed to wield their power. He had no reason not to support it.

He even negotiated down because he knew that full responsibility over whoever was chosen as ruler would be potentially harmful to the Church’s reputation.

Then, what else could be done? Argue Filiana’s competency?

It was even more foolish.

Not only did the Pope endorse her, but she also claimed credit for unmasking Arvis right in front of them. Nobody could ignore it, gloss it over, or undercut it. Especially when she flaunted one of her most desirable traits; absolute military strength in the form of the beast by her side.

In the end, when Duke Rosch decided to pitch in his vote of approval, everything snowballed.

"And that is how you make a theocracy," Rakna smirked as he marched across a meadow. "It was pretty easy, all things considered. This Dream didn’t have that concept figured out, but all of the pieces were in place for it to happen. Half of the solution was violence."

"{It is as they say. It’s a question, and the answer is yes,}" Fray chuckled.

{My maker would agree,} Bhumi commented with a hum.

"Correction, the old man would agree on anything that blows up," the werewolf deadpanned and stopped at the edge of a vast and rocky valley filled with yellow vegetation. "We’re here."

He looked up at the hills and forests nestled in between. Arvis’ memories had led him here; some rural area within the neighboring landmass.

To quell his perfectionist whims, Rakna had decided to get rid of the secondary threat supposed to befall Elvador. With Filiana at the helm, the quest was officially over, but he could stay for the remaining time allocated to him.

In fact, if he had to be honest, the current theocracy he had crafted in this Dream was shaky. The fact that the country wouldn’t fall apart was true. But since he forced the issue, who knows what kind of political strife the next leaders of the Church and Eldor will instigate.

Filiana was a trustworthy and intelligent woman, and although Dominicus was a shrewd snake, he was a sincerely altruistic one. This generation was fine with them.

"...why the hell am I even worrying over the future of a dream?" Rakna clicked his tongue. "Let’s get this over with," he uttered and clawed at the air in front of him. "Off with it, bastards."

He swiped his hand and an ultra-scale magic formation peeled away at his command. In the blink of an eye, an entire town built inside the valley was revealed.

On cue, a dagger was driven into his throat. Rakna didn’t even bother to dodge. His eyes glanced at the owner of the weapon, some woman in dark clothing.

"This little thing won’t kill me," he said as if the metal in his throat meant nothing and before she could react, her neck snapped and she fell to the ground. The werewolf grunted and grabbed the dagger. He pulled it out and started fiddling with it.

At the same time, more presences began to rush toward him. Dark mages appeared on rooftops, from inside houses, shadows, and corners. One of them was in full-body black armor, abiding by a demonic theme with horns on the helmet.

"...Obsidian, Beast of The Queen," the man spoke through his helm.

Rakna raised an eyebrow. "I know I gave that name... but you already have a moniker? Are you my fan? Sorry, but I don’t do autographs."

"..."

A new mage in robes teleported in, floating above him. This one seemed even higher in rank. "Do you seek death?" The wrinkled elder man frowned darkly. "After ruining our plans, you have the gall to come here uninvited?" He spat and summoned a staff made purely of red energy. "You will not leave this place alive, beast. I’ll raise your corpse and use it to break your mistress."

"You don’t seem to understand your position," Rakna said and flipped the dagger one last time to hold it in reverse. "I am not here to play house," he scoffed and violet energy began to light up on his arms like dancing flames. Gradually, it entered his body and triggered the ’blur’.

"Attack!" The oldest dark mage shouted, not letting him continue.

More than a hundred magic circles filled the sky, but by that time, it was already too late.

"[Ghost Star of Rupture.]"

The world somehow screeched to a halt in Rakna’s eyes. His appearance was now like a mash-up of blurred colors vaguely forming a lupine shape.

As if tearing through tough leather, he very slowly dragged the dagger in his hands. It drew a line in the air that exhibited no light or power. Yet, the dimensions screeched and shrieked. It was as if a banshee was tearing out its own vocal cords.

Ghost Star of Rupture was not just any technique. It was the ultimate form of his Internal Art in all its splendor. When using it, he became Rupture itself. In this state, even one single millimeter of movement required untold amounts of effort.

The more he moved, the more devastating the rupture was.

Against the Pasqat, he had overclocked the technique with his transmutation. This time; not only were these small fry not resistant enough to warrant that alternative, but Ghost Star Intent gave him a preferable handle over the output and strain on his body.

By the time Rakna had finished tracing a line, the dagger had disintegrated. The line was barely ten centimeters long. It would have looked pathetic in any other circumstance.

"[Haunted Departure.]"

He intoned and the magic about to hit him simply vanished.

* * *

"Dad!"

Far from the valley, a middle-aged man was tending to his farm when his daughter excitedly ran up to him. "Woah!" He turned around just in time to catch her as she jumped in his arms. "Haha, I already told you that’s dangerous, sweetheart. What if I drop you?" He laughed.

"Dad will never do that!" The little girl puffed her cheeks in full confidence.

"Haha, if you say so. What is it you’re so excited about then?"

"Ah!" Her eyes sparkled. "I saw a really cool doggy earlier!"

Her father’s eyes blinked. "A doggy?"

"Yes, yes! He was big and nice with a scarf! He smiled at me!" She recounted happily.

The farmer blinked in confusion. First of all, dogs didn’t just live around here. At worst, it could be a wolf. Second of all... it smiled? That wasn’t an animal, but an intelligent creature.

"Livi, where was it going?" He hurriedly asked.

"Eh? Over there, I think," she pointed at the yellow valley in the distance.

His expression fell. There were plenty of rumors about that valley. It never troubled him much, but what did it mean for a monster to go there so conspicuously?

"...we need to go to the town. Let’s get your mother!" He urged, but his wise decision nonetheless was unnecessary as he heard a noise that rooted him on the spot. It was ghastly.

This screech almost made his ears bleed. He swiftly put his daughter down and covered her ears with his hands. He looked at the source with a grimace; that valley. It was no coincidence.

But as he was about to run away, he saw a sight that he would never forget.

A muffled boom traversed the meadows and the valley swayed. It didn’t quake; it swayed. Like a flag in the wind. And without explanation, it began to blot and lose definition until it scattered in the wind; violet wisps carried away as if a ghost had just been exorcized to the afterlife.

And where there once was a valley as expansive as a country, only a fracture in space remained on the horizon, slowly closing as if sufficiently fed.

* * *

"...so, you’re leaving," Filiana said, sitting in her chambers.

"Aye," Rakna shrugged as he watched the countdown on the system window. "Well... to you, it might feel like I have never left," he added with a snort.

She scowled. "What... are you hiding from me?" She asked carefully. "Don’t think I didn’t notice. I know you’re a kinder person than you let on."

He raised an eyebrow.

"And I know guilt when I see it," she added with stern eyes.

The werewolf smirked lightly. "What is it with you mothers and your perception, I wonder?" He joked to himself. "Kara would like you."

Her expression softened. "Is it... over for me?"

"...you’re asking about something you can’t understand," Rakna replied. "Regardless, Filiana."

She lifted her head at his call, only to be pushed down as he patted her. She stiffened.

"See you soon," she heard him, unable to see his face. "Sleep tight."

And then the world froze and a System window popped up.

❮ ◈ ❯

100th Plateau: Simulation Trial Completed!

---

You have completed a Hidden Quest, Proclaimed, Victory Was Certain!

Identified All Threats: ✓

Neutralized Arvis Zaratia: ✓

Destroyed the Dark Covenant: ✓

Ensured Political Stability: ✓

Rallied Grandmasters: ✗

Allied Beast Kingdom: ✗

Saved Filiana & Fia Zaratia: ✓

Rewards: 100 000 Exp, 25 Volatile Points, 500 Attribute Points, 1 Skill Point, 100 000 000 Talys, 100 Ghama Stones, Skill Card – Blade Master, Excelled Skill Card – Flag of Promised Victory, Title – Queen’s Dearest Fate

---

The World Is My Cradle has doubled the experience.

---

You have leveled up! 46x

+20.7 STR, SPD, & INT!

---

You have gained the right to leave for the next Plateau.

Do you wish to exercise it now?

Yes/No

❮ ◈ ❯

"A Hidden Quest, huh? I haven’t seen that in a while. That’s a lot of levels," Rakna commented. He looked down at the frozen appearance of Filiana. He could already feel the Dream shutting down.

He wasn’t reckless enough to push his luck with Azathoth a second time. Without the Empress at his side, he might be robbed of far more this time around. He can’t just go whine to an Outer God every time he goes through a Simulation.

However... Azathoth had already given him the key he needed.

"Open up," Rakna ordered and an eldritch eye opened on his palm, surveying the surroundings and momentarily causing the space to rattle.

He couldn’t take this Dream from its creator. But it didn’t mean he couldn’t recreate it. This kind of ’world’... it had a seed, so to speak. Something that could even be dumbed down to numbers. As long as he retrieved it, one day, he should be able to make it sprout.

He had both Azathoth and Breksta to thank for this; The Sentinel’s Dream was what allowed him to extract the essence of this Dream and sustain it within himself until he was ready.

Soon enough, the eye on his palm began to spin and partially absorbed the matter around until it deemed it was enough to build a ’root’. Without ado, it promptly returned to its slumber.

Rakna clenched his hand and allowed the System to take him away. He looked at Filiana one last time as the world began to shatter. Calmly, he closed his eyes and disappeared.