Not long after getting all his answers, Kyralon stops , “This will be your last question and I won’t be asking any more of you.”
“This has co out of nowhere.”
“Yes. I’ve changed my mind, and I would appreciate it if you didn’t ask why. I won’t ask anything of you either and you can spend the rest of your Beyond Quest here in the tower or seated in that spot you seem to like or on the stairs outside of the tower. Nowhere else.”
There are plenty of questions I want to ask, especially why and what could have made him change his mind.
I replay my past answers and behavior, and I don’t think I have done anything to offend him. But it’s not like I can force an Absolute to do what I want, no matter how disappointed I feel.
Sure, I may have decided not to ask him anything about my training because I want to grow my own way, and the cockroach will probably be more of a help than he will. But there is only so much information I can gather by myself.
Pairings, Earth’s awakening, the system, coalitions, what is black mana, questions about so of my other skills, eternal fragnts. Questions about the different races and their origins after all I already know that the vyssari are rumored to have been created by one of the Rulers. Then there’s the Last Elf he ntioned, the Magi he ntioned. Where I can get a Spatial Cache of my own, subclasses, and the influence they have. What causes pairing, the world-devouring wolf Biscuit’s disciple ntioned, how to beco a Champion or an Absolute, and more.
Many more.
There is no way he doesn’t know that, and we’re still just over a day into my five-day stay.
Surprisingly, there is a part of that is annoyed at myself for being disappointed that he won’t be serving these answers on a silver platter. But there is a strong impulse I feel, my frustration straining to show through.
He knows I’m annoyed, but I’m not so toy he can just do whatever he wants with.
Fuck this guy.
“Thank you. I have no more questions for you.”
These few words make him freeze for a mont, his eyes widening the tiniest bit in surprise before he regains control, wiping away that minuscule, barely noticeable break in his expression.
“I understand. You still have so ti remaining, so you can ask later if…”
“There is no need.”
“Are you su… I understand. I will be here then.”
“Got it.”
After a mont of hesitation, he stands up and leaves.
Day after day, I sequester myself away in my own ntal space, sitting on the stairs within their strange energy suppressing field. However, I also take monts to watch the night sky peeking through the fragnts of the moon from the loggia. I follow the rules, never leaving the tower and avoiding prolonged looks at the items around , knowing they would only fuel my curiosity, with no way to ask questions or inspect them.
Within my mind, I build my array and dedicate parts of my mind to keep them active while also working as much as possible to keep Fracture from simply breaking out.
There are no questions asked, no answers delivered. And when the day cos to leave, Kyralon, for the last ti, opens his mouth to say sothing before he shakes his head and smiles at , changing his mind.
“It was a pleasure eting you, Nathaniel. Thank you for answering my questions.”
He’s clearly prodding to ask my remaining question. But I do not ask.
“I understand. Thank you for answering mine. We might see each other after I leave the tutorial. One day.” I say.
“That… that would be an interesting eting.” He smiles and reaches his huge hand toward . He grabs mine while shaking it. “Is this not how you greet each other on Earth?”
“Yes, but don’t squeeze so hard; you broke sothing.”
“I apologize.”
“It’s fine. It will heal… slowly. See you then.”
“Farewell.”
Turning around, I open the door that appeared just monts ago, and pass through once again, reappearing in my handler’s office.
As always, she is sitting behind her desk and imdiately asks, “Satisfied?”
“It could’ve been better.”
“Absolute Kyralon can be like that,” she smiles, “Since my allowance of information is nonexistent now, there is no need to hold you here any longer. Don’t die on , attendee Nathaniel.”
I just give her a nod and keep looking at her, even as I feel the pull of the 7th floor. She watches in return, amusent flickering across her face.
Then the cold, chilling wind and snow gnaws away at once more.
POV Warden of the Parallax Eyes, Kyralon
Kyralon spends a mont staring at the spot where the young attendee once stood before letting out a long, frustrated sigh. It had been a long ti since soone so much weaker than him had treated him that way, carefully skirting the line between reward and punishnt.
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He waits for a minute before heading toward the loggia where a young woman is already waiting, seated in one of the free chairs—long red hair, and yellow eyes, laced through with an array of strange patterns.
“Lady Greed,” Kyralon greets her carefully.
“Please sit,” she states, gesturing to him like she were in her own ho rather than his.
The atmosphere hums with a slight tension as Kyralon pulls two glasses from his pouch, along with a transparent bottle of golden liquid that swirls like a living whirlpool. He pours a serving into both glasses, whereupon the liquid resus its motion, and they drink in silence.
In the end, it’s Kyralon who breaks the silence first, “He left without asking the question he had every right to ask. It’s the first ti that’s happened. He decided he’d rather annoy than receive an answer to one of the many questions he must have had.”
The red-haired woman laughs shortly and sips, “The great all-knowing Kyralon, treated like an annoying grandpa. I’m glad I lived to experience it.”
“That human is petty beyond belief. He decided to waste a question for such a silly reason. From , of all people—Warden of the Parallax Eyes, the last of my bloodline and one of the oldest Absolutes in the system! Who does that?!” His voice ramps up as he complains, putting his disbelief at the situation on full display.
“What could you have done to set him off like that?”
“I decided to end our ga of questions prematurely.”
“Why would you do such a thing, dear Kyralon?”
The huge velnar settles into his chair and takes a long sip, watching the golden liquid swirl in his glass. “I didn’t want to stain him, to feed him all the answers, even if they would help him, or make him stronger... or keep him from making our mistakes.”
Taking the bottle and pouring herself another drink, the red-haired woman takes her seat once more, “And what do you think? Would he be able to serve as the weapon we need?”
“How can a human like him succeed where Master Lissandra has failed? That one who started in the Beyond would be a better choice, Lady Greed. Lyraen and Nyssa also show promise. Any of the three would make a better weapon if you absolutely insist on having soone from that particular tutorial. And that’s not even considering the many others already in the system or caught within their own tutorials. But the chances are slim to nonexistent for all of them. That man is too monstrous.”
“No ntion of a certain Absolute going rogue?”
“No matter what Master’s imitation does, she won’t make it out of the tutorial. There were versions that made it further, those closer to the original, with more of her incredible power. Yet all of them failed.”
“I see, you’re the sa as ever, letting your incredible sight blind you.” The red-haired woman nods, seemingly in agreent, despite the slight smile on her lips.
Right after, she stands up, “Thank you for indulging in this short discussion, dear Kyralon. We will see each other soon.”
She leaves as if she had never been there, and much like he did with his prior visitor, Kyralon watches the place where she disappeared.
POV Nathaniel
There are four “levels” of mimics on the 7th floor. The weakest are Lesser Mimics, then Mimic Spawns, Greater Mimics, and above that, Champion-grade Elder Mimics. Of course, there is one more level, the Absolute-grade Mimic, also called the Progenitor Mimic.
Lesser Mimics and Mimic Spawns are no problem at all. I could keep killing these guys for weeks. A Greater Mimic could cause a problem, especially the ones over level 350. In certain situations, or if more of them group up, things could beco… interesting. Especially if they found a host that made them stronger and more intelligent.
Well, it’s not like I have to worry about it now. The place I’ve appeared is incredibly full of mana radiation and none seem to be around. There are enormous holes in the ground, already filled by the never-ending falling snow. The floors or mountains that used to dot the landscape are gone. Kaput, evaporated.
On a whim, I delve into the area with the high mana radiation and rely on [Eclipse] and [Mana Domain] to keep safe. The experience from the 5th floor certainly helps as well.
While doing so, I quickly exchange ssages with Group 4, who don’t seem to be in anything resembling a good state after five days of fleeing the 2nd front and the battle between Champions that apparently took place here.
The Exoria Deploynt Outpost is gone, destroyed, along with most of the lumorans who hung back until the bitter end. Their Champion appeared only at the last mont and, according to Tess, utterly crushed two Mimic Champions, both with hosts.
Group 4, Hed’s group, and a few more are currently hiding after a lot of near-death situations and so mbers of the expedition have been poisoned by sothing that apparently isn’t quite as serious as whatever killed Ardenyx’s pilot despite being remarkably similar. Among the poisoned are Dennis and Maya. And then Sophie’s been unconscious for the past few days after controlling Ardenyx for an hour after the attack started, in an attempt to give everyone a chance to escape.
But those guys are scary in their own way, so I’m not really worried about them. Group 4 has survived worse dangers. What’s grabbed my interest for the mont is just a whisper of mana wavelength I recognize. My Mana Wavelength Iris spots it even within all the mana radiation surrounding and the ssed-up aftermath of the war.
It’s the signature of level 7 technician Leth.
So I head in that direction, avoiding any areas that seem too dangerous. For instance, there’s an area where the snow just doesn’t enter. A zone the size of a small city, and the snow swirls around it. Inside, patches of twisted, charred trees stand eerily still, and from their branches hang the corpses of lumorans and Mimics alike.
Another such area is a massive crater that lts any snow that falls within, there’s a pool of glowing lava at the bottom. And around its edges, lie more corpses, items, and scraps of tents. I even recognize parts of war armor, though I can’t tell which suits they ca from.
To my enhanced eyes at least, these places look about as inviting as a presentation in a class full of extroverts.
Though, perhaps they are a bit more inviting, if only because at least they’re interesting, and I can’t help but feel a strong tinge of curiosity, but I refuse to let it blind to the danger. Just the way mana moves and twists around them is enough to convince to avoid them.
Gradually, I am forced to use more and more mana to fight back the radiation in the area, but my body is topped off with mana, as is my crown. Even the damage caused by Fracture, which ssed up my mana pathways, and Fracture’s own rebellion pose no threat to my mind, supported by the effects of my mid-arcane passive.
Soon, I catch up and finally lay eyes on Leth. He’s wearing a suit of tal armor that covers the entirety of his body, likely to fight back the mana radiation that I doubt he could endure otherwise. He pushes against the wind, crawling through it at tis, each of his steps slow and tired.
Very slowly, he approaches a pile of snow and starts digging. I extend one of my [Ley Lines] and tie it to him. Though it’s more difficult than usual because of the state of the area, but with a bit more focus, I manage to do it.
Leth uncovers part of one of the white tents and enters, after which the snow he removed falls back, covering the entrance once more, hiding it from all my senses. To the point that I'm sure I’d never be able to locate it unless I stumbled on it by accident.
I teleport through the [Ley Line] and appear inside the mostly collapsed tent. The noises outside imdiately grow quiet, but it’s still very cold in here. I now stand in the remains of one of the larger tents, with a few parts of the workshop intact, along with a few sections of war armor I don’t recognize scattered about all around us. They have a black coating, and scars on their surface reveal the silver tal underneath. A bit farther away lies the damaged war armor on its back, its cockpit open.
Right away, I identify it as Exoria. Unlike Ardenyx, it’s ugly and it looks almost primitive. But the edges of my vision blur when I try to look too closely with my Mana Wavelength Iris.
Leth finally notices and still wearing his armor, he turns around, pulling a dagger from his waist that imdiately becos covered in pale blue mana. His hand is shaking, and showing just how weak he is.
Yet still he steps to the left, placing himself between and the unconscious body behind him.
The body of Feroy, the lumoran Champion.
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