Avery frowned, noticing his cultivation was being greatly slowed down by the inner turmoil in his heart. He was growing increasingly worried at how acceptable he kept finding the tyrannical actions of the Sil'piceus and the utter disdain they showed for anything they considered below them.

However, his doubts did not last. The Sil'piceus truly were the protagonist of his world, and such behavior was their right. It was possible they occasionally went a tiny bit overboard in their relentless path of slaughter, but was peace and biodiversity really so important?

Indeed, if you truly thought about it, the Sil'piceus were all the world needed, and everything else just existed to serve them. What was the use of a barren rock if no creatures existed on it? What was the use of plants if there was nobody to eat them? What was the use of having a beautiful world if there was no intelligent life to appreciate it?

Their powers gave them the supreme right to rule, and what kind of overlord would prioritize the god of unrelated creatures over the advancement of its own race? They were demigods, so why should they follow mortal rules? Especially those coming from another world?

Then again, power did nothing to avoid the rules of morality. Each of them had so much death on their conscience it was ridiculous. The only reason every other species on the planet had not gone extinct was that they had leaders with great foresight, who carefully regulated who and what was to be hunted, in order to maximize the current rewards while minimizing the impact on future hunts.

In fact, the animal kingdom was currently thriving. The Sil’piceus was doing everything they could to help animals grow, and never hunted young ones before they had the chance to breed, to make sure to maintain an everlasting source of blood. They might not live long or particularly fulfilling lives, but the overall population thrived, and their deaths were given meaning through the noble pursuit of godhood.

Sure there was a lot of death, but nature wasn’t kind, and chances were they were being spared a more painful demise in the wild. You were killing creatures that would have died anyway, so that others could escape death forever. On a global scale, was this not a net positive?

Another thing that added to the complexity of this matter was that they did not hunt for sport or cruelty, they hunted for their growth and well being. What was the difference between this and others eating more than the bare minimum they needed to eat so that they grew healthy and strong, besides the scale? Could the Sil’piceus truly be blamed for their unending appetite for blood? Should he really expect them to halt their growth and cease their pursuit of immortality because some inferior creature had to pay the price?

Did morality even exist? Was it really worse to kill an animal when compared to a human? Was killing evil in the first place? Did being evil matter?

Avery just couldn't or come to any conclusion, flipping back and forth in what he considered acceptable, unable to determine which thoughts truly came from him and which were coming from his inner world. Internal biases were an insidious enemy, and no matter how much he tried to be objective and logical, he could not ascertain how he should feel.

The worst thing was, no matter what he ended up deciding, there was nothing he could do. He was a powerless observer, and he could not even control how he felt about what was happening, much less do anything to stop it.

Seeing his confusion getting steadily worse, Avery decided he needed to take one more break. He momentarily paused his cultivation, tuned out his perception of his mental world, and turned his attention to another problem, one for which he had a solution.

Gently waving his arm, his extended finger flowing in a captivating pattern, and stroke by stroke, an ethereal rune appeared in the air.

Ding, Congratulations, you have completed a Clear rune. +50 Points

The rune shone dimly but consistently, hovering in place while resisting the erosion of dragon power. Its light was slowly diminishing, but it fought to fulfill its purpose, and in its center, a minuscule flame was lit.

This triumph only lasted a split second before the nascent fire was ruthlessly snuffed out, and with its disappearance came the decay of its mother rune. An instant so brief it was insignificant, but an instant during which the laws of reality had bent to Avery's will.

This was the culmination of an untold number of years spent pursuing the Supreme Truth, the only evidence of uncountable years of tireless study that were lost to the inconsistent timeline of his inner world.

He no longer had any need for material to engrave upon, having completely abandoned any semblance of being a blacksmith. His runes did not aim to alter or elevate an object, they would affect the very world, acting as spells to enforce his will upon reality.

He was reaching the very peak of this level of runes, and he only needed to take a step further to officially wield immortal runes and ascend. Then, this abyss would trap him no longer, and he would have a multitude of options available to him.

Even if the legends were false and immortals were not innately capable of flight, He had learned many runes that could easily carry him out. He knew of one that could temporarily lessen the effect gravity had on him, another that let the winds carry him and one that provided a simple but consistent unidirectional force on something. If for some reason he did not wish to fly, which he absolutely did, he could make his hands and feet sticky, and simply climb the cliff.

Even if immortal-level runes were still not able to completely withstand the oppression of dragon power, it would be only a matter of chaining a few runes together, and they would surely be able to last long enough for him to make his escape.

This was a certainty in his heart. The day he broke through the next level of runes was the day he would become immortal, and the day he would be free.

Yet, as he was growing closer and closer to immortality, the accompanying tribulation was also getting clearer and clearer. It was no longer an illusory threat, looming in the distance, but a seemingly insurmountable obstacle that denied him hope of realizing any of his ambitions.