Nic arrived back at the temple atop the tree near nightfall. His strength and the boon of Day-Into-Night were truly becoming apparent as he blazed past his previous record, climbing like a madman. He was pleased to see the spiders moving back into their nest- under the watchful eye of a black Myrmidon standing guard.

Huge predatory hummingbirds with long, spiked tongues briefly hovered around him, wondering if he was prey. A single blast of Poison Mist was enough to convince the survivors he was not.

He arrived back on top to find the mantis-guard staring at him, speaking amongst themselves. It was odd. They usually seemed like they wanted to strangle him just for existing near their Lady- and now they were actively trying to do it with their eyes.

Captain Cegan stepped forward. His mantis-arms were almost twitching with anger, while his human fists were curled. The difference between the two limbs- one set covered in green, hard carapace, the other in bronzed skin- was striking.

“The Lady Nylea wishes for you to join her honor guard, and gain our rituals. As such…” He grinned. It wasn’t a smile that boded well for Nic. “I invite you to spar tomorrow morning, so that I can judge whether you qualify for the test.”

Nic froze, trying to quickly see the angles on this. Cegan was simply angry because this brought him closer to Nylea and likely stole some of Cegan’s authority away. The Lady Nylea had phrased this like she’d be giving Nic a gift, and that was likely partially true, there was almost definitely some benefits to be gained.

‘Gain our rituals’ suggested these chumps actually had cultivation methods hidden away.

But he knew that even if Nylea liked him, she wouldn’t offer something so precious for free. Becoming an honor guard might impose real restrictions or binding oaths on him.

But Nic just grinned. “Alright, see you then, champ.”

After all- if he found out the restrictions would be too binding, he could always bow out, or throw the fight intentionally.

Proceeding into the temple, Nic eagerly approached the Saturnalia. As always, the sea of little people had raised entire cities in the time he’d been gone, the tiny world moving through years in minutes and days in the blink of an eye.

Redjaw’s poison forest sprawled across a continent, with humanity relegated to the thin beaches of golden sand where the trees and flowers couldn’t spread. They lived in huts extending across the shallow waves on bamboo docks and stilts, with huge cities floating on rafts and wooden platforms. Each house was its own little barge pushing through the waters. Peering down closely Nic saw that many of the smaller ships were made of shed carapace from Redjaw’s spawn, and that centipede statues carved from granite pillars lined the shore in tribute. His greedy little companion beast had become a venerated god.

In the center of the continent titans fought and brawled. The dark soil of the poison jungle had given rise to constant warfare between titanic creatures, and Nic watched as Redjaw struggled with a pair of contenders for his throne.

A brilliant orange-shelled dragonfly dove from above, stabbing at him with bladed limbs. A fiery-skinned lizard spat tongues of green flame and reared up, hissing, trying to bite down against Redjaw’s endless slithering waves of legs. It was two against one, but they were wild beasts. They had no idea how to work together.

Redjaw destroyed them. His long, poisoned antenna whipped out and caught the dragonfly as it tried to escape into the sky after a diving attack. With a twist of his head, he threw the delicate insect against the lizard. They both crashed back into the jungle, uprooting tiny trees and sending thousands of birds no larger than grains of sand fleeing up into the air.

Redjaw bore down, an oncoming train of legs bearing bright red mandibles at its front. The dragonfly almost made it up into the air but Redjaw reared up, chasing it above the treeline as countless legs lifted from the earth. His mandibles snapped down and caught the prey- and his long body swung it down and smashed it against the earth, crushing down until it was split into two.

The lizard had crawled onto his back and was desperately trying to cut through the centipede’s black, slimy armor with a searing blaze of green flame.

Redjaw turned back and surged up around the unfortunate reptile, wrapping coil after coil around its chest to squeeze away all life and breath. As the flame-lizard went limp, Redjaw dragged it back towards his lair to feast.

Nic reached down and petted the beast’s head in appreciation.

“Hey little guy.” He whispered through the mental link. “Enjoying your time as a god?”

“I eat well. The strong contest my place atop them, and the weak bow and sing to me. It is good. I am almost ready.” Its long, whip-thin antenna wove around his fingers and he felt a faint tingling. Anyone else would be screaming in pain from the venom within. “But I need something. Something I cannot find. A stone of power.”

Nic nodded. A Shard.

He wasn’t the only one at the edge of a breakthrough. Redjaw just needed to absorb a Shard to advance through to F-Class and likely to evolve in the same moment.

Reaching into his bag, he pulled out the Primary Shards he’d acquired. His selection was still small, but both were potent options for expanding Redjaw’s role. Poison Mist would allow Redjaw to apply his deadly, Essence-destroying venom from afar. Frostbind would directly strengthen those capabilities.

And Nic intended to eventually give him both. But…

“Sofia? Shards influence the path of evolution, right?”

“Absolutely. The primary influences on evolution are how far you’ve cultivated the three core abilities, which Shards and Concepts you’ve grasped, and what bloodlines reside in your current form. Treasures and techniques can enhance these routes, but very few can supplant them.”

Nodding, he selected the Poison Mist Shard. It would give Redjaw - hopefully - paths that focused on his strengths, rather than drawing him away towards new ice-focused ones.

Redjaw had already chewed the dead lizard down to bones, and gladly abandoned the carcass as Nic offered him the Poison Mist Shard. The centipede curled over the dark purple shard, which was scarred with veins of black, and sparks began to drift away as it absorbed the stone.

As he was searching through his collection of Shards, Nic noticed he’d actually ended up with a fair amount of dusted and broken fragments. He didn’t know if they had any value, but he did know they were made of nearly pure Essence, imbued with certain Concepts.

Digging small holes in the earth surrounding a small town in a distant, unremarkable island chain, Nic let a sparkle of crystalline dust fall into the soil.

“You really enjoy watching the world grow, don’t you?” Nylea had crept up beside him.

Inkspur manifested on his shoulder, eagerly scrambling onto Nylea’s hand as she held it out for him. Nic noticed the grey scars on her skin had retreated slightly, leaving the back of her hand and shrinking down along her arm.

“It’s fun. You never quite know what’s going to happen. The world just keeps growing.” He was turning his attention towards Sunfire.

The volcanic maelstrom that grew from the buckshot had solidified, becoming a rich volcanic island. Verdant jungle grew from the black soil and a range of fire-tipped mountains curled around the western shore.

Sunfire was asleep. The natives - a race of horned people with jet-black skin like volcanic rock - sung to him, placated him with food, weaving magic. Doing everything they could to keep him snoring.

“And you have new armor, I see. You seem to be rushing ahead into this world of cultivation.” She sighed. “I’ll admit, I was never very talented. I didn’t feel the thrill of growing stronger, only the frustration of days spent restlessly sitting at meditation, failing to make any headway. Alchemy was interesting to me…”

“Alchemy, if you followed the rules you were promised a result. It made a certain amount of sense. You couldn’t be bad at alchemy- only inattentive or sloppy.”

Nic nodded. He had felt the same way about runework, when he began. He had fallen away from the way of the sword after Tawley’s death, and runes had seemed simple, reliable, a way he could channel his talents to living in the world.

“So, you want me to be an honor guard?” He asked.

“Let’s call it a formalization of our relationship. You’ve been very helpful, and there are certain ways I can help you if you agree.” She smiled. It was a heart-stopping smile, but Nic wasn’t going to be enchanted by that alone.“The only requirement is you help defend me. In exchange, I can pass on certain useful secrets. For instance…”

She laid her hand on the side of the Saturnalia. “There’s a skin inscription my guards have all received that increases their base cultivation rate.” If she had Nic’s interest before, now he was hanging on to every word. “If that- somehow- isn’t something you need, we also have body cultivation techniques, sword manuals, all F-Class of course but…” Nylea waved a hand. It was all frivolous to her. She couldn’t cultivate, after all.

They might have been precious secrets to her clan- but to her, they were only ways of getting stronger guardians. It was natural to bargain them

Especially because things with her and Cegan seemed increasingly tense.

“Tell ya what. I’m starting a Settlement, as soon as I can clear out the nearest Dungeon. If you’re willing to join me, I’m willing to join you.” Nic proposed.

She nodded, slowly at first, and then again with a smile. “I wondered if you might be planning that. Your whole aura changed when you bound the Saturnalia. It grew more dense and turbulent, like a storm, and when you returned, I saw it had evolved again.”

“Yes, that works perfectly. Seeing the Settlements open nearby, well, for a small faction like mine it’s nerve-wracking. Sooner or later we were bound to be assimilated. Making a deal with you- it’s preferable to dealing with the devil we don’t know.”

“Then it’s a deal.” Easily enough, Nic had swept up the first faction and one of Nodes for his city. His meandering path had brought him into contact with nearly a half-dozen factions now, and even among the hostile Natives, he’d been able to plant a few solid relationships.

As Nylea drifted off to watch the clouds and the world below from her balcony, Nic seated himself on the meditation mat. There was still work to do on his Bloodline Gate for the Scion Ascension scroll, but more than that, it was time to examine the notes on runeworking and greensinging the elves had gifted him.

The notes were scattered and confusing for the most part. They clearly weren’t meant to teach someone to greensing, but rather, to allow somebody who already knew the basics to develop and expand their powers. At several points old entries had been crossed out and replaced by new ones, as the writer came into a greater understanding of their own talents.

At its core greensinging seemed to work by harmonizing your Essence with that of the plant, and then interweaving the two, allowing you to possess and control its growth. But how Nic would go about taking the first step was totally absent.

The runes, he understood better. They were complex, snowflake-like expanses of multiple designs woven together, each feeding back into the last and the next to avoid any inefficiency. The goal seemed to be to complete a total cycle and create a living, breathing design, one that could grow more powerful over time.

Nic didn’t even know the core effects of half of the runes, but he could find out by testing them.

Taking out the theoretical quill and a stack of paper, Nic began.