The tutorial was nearing its end, and every faction that had conquered its trial was now in a frenzy to prepare for the new world awaiting them. Most bore the blessings of gods who sharpened them like weapons, ready for all-out war and conquest. Not all were as fortunate as the humans of Earth, who faced only three other planets. The majority shared their tutorials with five, sotis even ten worlds.
This did not necessarily an their path was harder than Earth’s. Those massive worlds, compared to the small planet that Earth would soon rge into, were far richer in natural treasures. The power required to fuse such colossal spheres often seeped into the soil and flora, leaving behind relics of creation, plants glowing with hidden essence, stones heavy with condensed life-force, treasures that could hurl a cultivator forward as if caught in a roaring flood. By multiversal standards, these massive planets were worth far more than New Earth.
The early stages of such worlds were usually gentler, especially with fewer incursions to endure, but after a century they would inevitably ignite into endless battlefields, factions clashing over unique treasures like wolves tearing at a single carcass.
While most factions were completing their final preparations, smaller groups lurked in the shadows, ambushing stragglers to weaken their rivals. One such predator in Thalion’s tutorial was Thorwald. For days he had preyed on the hunting parties that dared stray from the safety of Thalion’s base. He had even dispatched spies to slip into the city, gathering whispers and maps like spiders spinning invisible threads.
He had learned that Thalion had only recently lost his first comrades. The mory of the man’s grief painted a wide grin across Thorwald’s face. The pain was an appetizer, the true feast would co later. His patron was pleased with how the tutorial had unfolded, and Thorwald would soon march alongside his god’s chosen army on New Earth. Officially, his patron had no interest in Thalion, but Thorwald did not care. For safety, he had already planted one of his n inside Thalion’s base to mark its location.
Even if the gods had no desire for vengeance, Thorwald would take Thalion’s head himself.
Of course, he needed more strength first. He admitted as much. But there was a bright side. He had carefully watched Thalion’s duel with the female elf and seen the truth: the man had no technique. Thalion’s spells were sloppy, like a drunken painter flinging colors against a wall, and his refusal to wield a weapon left him vulnerable. Thorwald, on the other hand, had honed his axe through endless slaughter, training his reflexes against the weak hunting parties he ambushed. His skill was sharper, his movents more disciplined. With a few more power-ups after the special quest, he would be ready.
Thorwald’s path was clear: stay by his patron’s chosen, just as he had once stood beside Steven, and reap the rewards that trickled down. His future glead before him, bright as a rising star piercing the night sky.
But for now, frustration gnawed at him. He had hoped to slay so of the more valuable mbers of Thalion’s base, yet their hunting parties moved too quickly, or avoided his traps entirely. It was infuriating. Worse still, Thalion did not even react to the disappearances of his weaker followers. The man seed indifferent, neither hunting Thorwald personally nor sending generals to respond. Thorwald felt like a wolf howling at empty woods, his prey refusing to acknowledge his presence.
The raids yielded little profit. No rare materials, no treasures worth the effort. Thorwald began to feel that his ti was being wasted. He could be hunting stronger beasts, but instead he lingered here, hoping to annoy Thalion. Yes, the city brimd with life, but if too many went missing, sooner or later questions would rise. Why had Thalion not dealt with the murderers at his doorstep?
“Thorwald, you need to see this!”
The voice of Joe, his most loyal follower, snapped him from his thoughts. The man ca running, breathless, waving sothing in his hand. Thorwald’s eyes narrowed. One of the spy crystals? Perhaps the Raha scouts had finally found sothing of value. Greed surged in his chest.
He snatched the crystal from Joe’s hand, ignoring the man’s confusion, and instantly linked his vision to the other half. These were not ordinary spy stones. They had been painstakingly modified to reveal flows of power and the glow of mana signatures. Their price was astronomical and so far they had brought no worthy discoveries.
Perhaps this ti fortune would smile. A hunter carrying so priceless light-infused treasure, the perfect complent to Thorwald’s strong light affinity, that would be ideal.
But when his vision opened, it was not turned toward the hunting grounds at all. Instead, it gazed upon the city itself.
The protective do no longer shimred above it.
Now the aura within the city was visible to Thorwald. It looked as if a tide of shadow was rising from its heart, like smoke billowing from a burning abyss. Whatever it was, the aura terrified him. It dwarfed even the strongest guards who patrolled the walls; their presence was snuffed out like candles by strong wind.
Thorwald was a warrior, and he refused to let his fear, or the cold sweat running down his spine show on his face.
“What am I supposed to see?” he bluffed, his voice harsh, as if mocking the very fear gnawing at him. Joe looked at him, perplexed. The scout had probably expected sothing like “That looks terrifying” or at least a grunt of acknowledgnt. But not from Thorwald. He would never show weakness.
Yes, whatever creature or force radiated this aura was lucky he couldn’t enter the city and fight it. Otherwise, Thorwald told himself, he would cut it down within monts. The monster inside was fortunate, fortunate to be caged away from him.
“That super-powerful, dark, evil aura rising from the middle. Are you not scared?” Joe asked, surprised, uncertain if he had sohow misspoken.
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“Why should I be scared?” Thorwald snorted, shoving the crystal back into Joe’s hands. “Call when you find soone strong actually leaving the base.” Without another word, he turned, chest puffed out as if armored in pride, and walked back toward camp.
Only when he passed beyond Joe’s line of sight did his hands begin to tremble uncontrollably. He was grateful no one had seen. The aura had struck deeper than he had expected. Why weren’t the people inside the city fleeing in terror? Living there must be like breathing in hell itself.
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