Maike wandered through Thalion's base, marveling at how it had grown into a bustling city of thousands. It was hard to believe how far things had co. In the beginning, she had thought they'd made a huge mistake by asking him to return after Kael and the others had left.
Thalion had barely cared about the base then, his attention fixed on his cultivation. But things had taken a sharp turn when he seized the credits of nearly everyone there, sparing only Lucan, Kaldrek, herself, and the guards Kaldrek had vouched for.
Naturally, this sparked fury. At least ten groups plotted to kill him. Before any of them could act, Garrick and Michael launched an attack on the tower, bringing a swarm of fighters. That was the mont Maike considered fleeing.
If either Garrick or Michael survived, they would have control of the slave cuffs, draining the people’s credits endlessly. But then, the unthinkable happened. Thalion obliterated most of their fighters and, after a relentless chase, killed Michael. Garrick escaped only by taking a hostage, hoping Kaldrek and the others wouldn’t strike him down.
Maike would never forget the sight of Thalion descending from the sky, utterly composed as if slaughtering the base’s finest warriors hadn’t fazed him. His decision to spare the woman and let Garrick go turned out to be brilliant. The groups plotting his death scattered—so no longer felt strong enough, while others saw no reason to oppose him.
True to his word, Thalion poured resources into the city, preparing it for the looming war against the undead. People were starting to see him not just as a leader but as a legend.
Rumors of his feats spread like wildfire: saving Kael, Sylas, and Kai; liberating slaves from the Blue Robes; and even helping two of them rise to beco elite warriors in Kael’s base. Then there were the tales of Evelyn, the little girl he rescued, and Kargul, the orc whose life he’d changed.
The most famous story, however, was his annihilation of the shapeshifters—wiping them out in one swift stroke. That wasn’t even the pinnacle of his power; his solo defeat of the attackers’ elite warriors cented his reputation as unmatched.
Though the public adored Thalion, murders within the base still plagued Maike’s mind. She and Kaldrek suspected one of the E-grade warriors—soone who believed they could challenge Thalion once they grew stronger.
Lucan and Kaldrek, both newly ascended to E-grade, frequently discussed the incredible leaps in power each level brought compared to F-grade. They theorized that soone confident in their progress might think themselves superior. Yet Maike doubted any of them truly understood how far Thalion’s body-tempering had taken him.
Among the suspects, she focused on those blessed by gods. Such individuals often amassed followers under their divine banner, exploiting the ignorance of those who didn’t even understand what “blessed” ant.
The gods, she had to admit, chose their representatives well—arrogant, ruthless, and more than willing to sacrifice others for their gain. In this harsh new world, such traits thrived disturbingly well.
This city had far too many high-level blessed individuals, each carving out their own sects. To Maike, it felt inevitable that they would eventually attempt to eliminate Thalion and seize control. What baffled her most was how Thalion seed to ignore the threat entirely. Did he genuinely believe himself to be so far above them? Maybe. But Maike doubted it. Thalion wasn’t reckless; he was a scher. He always seed to have a plan, and his decisions, more often than not, had solid reasoning behind them.
She thought back to the day he seized nearly everyone’s credits and killed Michael when their group attacked. That, she was convinced, had been calculated from the start. Now, the question lood: which of these little sects should she investigate first?
So sects wielded fire, others commanded plants, and more boasted exotic abilities. Over thirty such groups existed, each led by soone with a potent blessing. The most peculiar, in Maike’s eyes, were the won whose beauty was almost unnatural. Rumors swirled about their power to enthrall n and won alike, and though accusations of mind control surfaced frequently, they always had convenient excuses ready.
Their body-tempering, she noticed, seed tailored to accentuate their physical allure. In this new universe, people already looked fitter and more striking than they had on Earth—obesity was nearly nonexistent. But even among such a populace, these won stood out. It was unsettling how people gravitated toward them after just a few encounters, showering them with gifts that undoubtedly enriched their cultivation.
Maike couldn’t fathom how they leveled up. For crafters, it made sense—they gained experience with every item they created, the rarity of the object influencing their progress. But these won never hunted, and their class remained a mystery. Their establishnts—a few inns, bars, and restaurants—seed too mundane to justify their rapid rise. Even stranger, their goddess only seed to bless won, which added another layer of intrigue.
At first, Maike had been fascinated by these won, drawn in by the mystery of their power. Now, she feared them. They were cunning, targeting the vulnerable—those who had lost family or were uncertain if their loved ones had survived the tutorial. It was a brilliant strategy, as nearly everyone in the city fit that description.
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With their numbers growing, they no longer needed to be subtle. Now, they were moving on council mbers—especially Kaldrek. Maike liked him; all she knew about his life on Earth was that he had no wife or children, but he had a loving and supportive family. It was that love that drove him to push himself so hard. Tragically, it also made him the perfect target for these witches.
Maike had no idea if other council mbers had been approached, but she was growing desperate to call an ergency eting and share her suspicions. The only thing stopping her was the lack of evidence. She vowed to raise the issue at the next eting—unless, of course, the other cities coming for "negotiations" caused too much chaos.
Until then, she watched from the rooftop of one of the city’s larger buildings, her gaze fixed on one of their inns. She loathed admitting it, but their information network was likely more robust than hers.
Most of her insights ca from casual conversations and gossip. Asking openly about them would alert their network—sothing she couldn’t risk. A direct confrontation was even less appealing; she didn’t want one of them—or worse, their brainwashed followers—paying her a visit.
She sighed, leaning back against the rooftop’s edge, her eyes never leaving the inn’s entrance. For now, she’d keep observing. Hopefully, she’d uncover sothing tangible before the next council eting.
Kaldrek had too much on his plate to dedicate more ti to searching for the murderers. The task was daunting—there were simply too many people to investigate, and all he could do was question those who had been near the cri scenes. Unfortunately, every single one of them had an alibi.
This ant the murderer must have handed their identity token to soone else before committing the cris, killing the slaves, and stealing the cuffs. He also consulted Lucan and other smiths, but none of them reported noticing anyone tampering with the cuffs. Of course, they could have been lying, so Kaldrek stationed guards near the smiths to monitor their activities.
The odds of finding anything this way were slim, but he had no better ideas.
In his opinion, this base had far too many blessed individuals. He couldn’t help but wonder why no god had offered him a blessing. Sure, he wasn’t the strongest in the base, but others far weaker than him had been rewarded with blessings.
What was he lacking? Or was it sothing else entirely? After all, even Thalion—arguably the most promising individual in the base—hadn’t received a blessing yet.
Thalion’s obsession with growing stronger was unmatched. The man barely interacted with others, spending every mont cultivating in the tower.
It was a lifestyle Kaldrek knew he should emulate. As it stood, others in the base were growing alarmingly strong. Every day, multiple E-grades were erging. Most had low-rarity classes, and those who instant-evolved often reported their class rarity being downgraded—sotis drastically. So even claid they dropped from epic to common rarity.
In stark contrast, those blessed by gods managed to retain their class rarity and, in rare cases, even saw it upgraded.
Kaldrek considered himself fortunate. He had only suffered one downgrade, from exalted to epic class. But that didn’t change the fact that others were gaining power quickly—and many coveted his position.
Voices were growing louder, demanding a trial to determine whether he was still fit to lead the guards. Kaldrek didn’t think his role as leader stemd solely from his strength, but the thought of asking Thalion for support was humiliating. He wanted to avoid it at all costs.
Among the three guards who also served on the council, Kaldrek was confident he was the strongest. But that also put him—and the others—at risk.
Kaldrek’s determination to hold onto his position wasn’t just about pride; it was rooted in a deep, personal resolve. He wanted to grow stronger to protect his family—his siblings and their loved ones—when they finally reunited.
This ant dedicating more ti than ever to training and hunting. His recent advancent to E-grade had been a turning point. The transition was strange—his skills, once categorized by rarity, had all been reclassified as E-grade abilities. Though they functioned as before, the only tangible boost ca from his upgraded class itself.
Leveling at E-grade was grueling compared to F-grade, but the rewards were significant. Each level brought more than double the power of an F-grade advancent. The four levels he had gained over the past days were equivalent to nearly twelve in his previous state. Yet, even with this progress, Kaldrek couldn’t shake the unease gnawing at him.
He feared for Thalion’s life. Could he defend against soone who had gained even a few levels in E-grade? Kaldrek doubted it.
Two of the levels Kaldrek had gained had co from consuming rare natural treasures tied to his class. Such an opportunity wouldn’t co again anyti soon.
His thoughts turned to Lucan, the smith, who was already at level 87. It made Kaldrek wonder just how Lucan had leveled so quickly. Could it be the experience gained from working on the teleportation circle?
The implications of that circle were enormous. Once complete, it would allow for swift travel across vast distances, revolutionizing hunting and resource gathering.
Kaldrek’s mind drifted to the other human bases. Thalion had ntioned discovering two more, both powerful. Would this newfound connectivity bring alliances—or war?
If these bases had teleportation circles, they could start sending hunters into the jungles near Kaldrek’s base. Slowly but surely, they might begin an invasion.
This was a chilling prospect. Kaldrek’s base accepted everyone, provided they proved themselves useful. While newcors were initially confined to a separate area, they gained full access to the city once they contributed enough.
For Kaldrek, this was far too lenient, but he also understood the necessity of monitoring everyone. So far, murders had been rare, and the perpetrators were usually caught quickly. The slave murders were an exception.
Edrion, before his death during the skirmish with the sky ships, had suggested that the killers might be connected to the guard. Sadly, Kaldrek had to agree. How else would the culprits have known about features of the cuffs that even many guards were unaware of?
Sothing was festering within the base—sothing dangerous and unseen, growing under everyone’s noses.
Kaldrek’s experience told him that bloodshed was inevitable. He only hoped Thalion would be strong enough to handle it because Kaldrek wanted nothing to do with the coming storm of conflict.
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