Chapter 10

What exactly was an Inheritance?

In the simplest of terms: It was a tomb. A grand, majestic tomb, guarded with strange magic and supernatural powers, often filled with esoteric knowledge or rare treasure. An Inheritance was this entire collection of things, from the meekest Inheritances built in mud huts to the grandest, golden castles hidden in the clouds.

The Fallen Deity’s Inheritance was not a light matter. Micheal had gleaned several important details about this place through his studies of the past, largely because of how interesting it was.

This site was a very obscure ruin in that very few people held any knowledge of it currently. There were thousands of similar ruins like this one, with almost all of them being valueless or of little worth. Most of the treasures left behind by the Tribes when they left this world had long since been looted.

The only ones that remained were ones that were extremely obscure or well hidden.

And as he had said before, opening up the stone gate that blocked off the entrance to the Inheritance Site required a living sacrifice.

More specifically, it required a sizable amount of life force, enough to rejuvenate the strange magic that controlled this area, offered in a very specific manner.

And thus, a couple of hours later, Micheal found himself sitting atop the large boulder that hid the cave-entrance to the Fallen Deity’s Inheritance, looking down at a writhing pit of large snakes.

“Careful! Slowly back now, slowly back!”

“Steady now, men!”

“Stay alert around the Boss!”

The Rury Group had come awake and alert, even in the middle of the night. They worked and functioned in clear and precise lines, with a group of Third Rate Warriors operating in a ring to protect Simone while she sat down in meditation, using her Silver Scaled Snake Type Ability to control more than 30 different snakes.

The rest of the warriors had formed a perimeter around the boulder, making sure that none of the snakes Simone was controlling could slip away. Everything was surprisingly orderly.

He could see some of them activate various tracking Abilities, keeping an eye on specific snakes, while others used physical-boosting Abilities to buff up their stats in preparation for anything going wrong.

‘They aren’t half bad.’ Micheal was suitably impressed by their level of discipline. The warriors didn’t question Simone’s orders and most of them didn’t even question why or who Micheal was.

The only ones that kept an eye on Micheal were two rather large men dressed in full sets of green and grey armor, with short brown hair and rough faces: Sub Leaders Biff and Thorin, Simone’s two officers. Both warriors were fierce fighters that had the Lesser Werewolf Type Ability and were pretty strong Third Rate Warriors.

Both of these two Sub Leaders stood right next to Simone, one of them keeping a wary eye on Micheal, while the other was the speaker, directing the group with loud orders. Exactly what they should be doing, in Micheal’s opinion.

Micheal watched everything unfold before him with keen interest.

The snakes were slowly piling into the cave entrance. Each one was roughly 3 meters long, but not powerful enough to be a Magic Beast. Hence, Micheal requested 30 of them, just to be safe.

Once the snakes moved into the cave, they slithered up to the stone door and then curled up and fell into a stupor. They weren’t asleep, but instead frozen, their minds dulled. Each creature was under Simone’s complete control, making this task an easy one.

Originally, this stone gate required a number of ‘intelligent’ living sacrifices, an especially cruel requirement. The Inheritance site was one created with harsh demands of any who wished to open it up and seek its rewards, with various magical locks and mechanisms controlling it.

This wasn’t entirely unexpected, given that this was the Inheritance of Yvvtal the Destroyer.

Yvvtal’s title was not a common one, nor was he a common Deity. He was a traitor to the Tribes of Deities, the meaning of the term ‘Fallen Deity,’ and an insane killer that preyed upon thousands of innocents in a mad gambit to seek immortality.

Even Deities were not immortal. While their bodies were vastly superior to that of a normal human, the chains of time tied down almost all races equally. The Tribes of Deities were no exception.

Micheal had what he saw as a very rational hatred for the Tribes of Deities. They had slaughtered humanity and caused his kind no end of grief, anger borne out of years of brutality. The arrogance of the leaders of the Deities was legendary, and their cruelty towards ‘lesser races’ even more so.

However, he also recognized that, just like how many humans were forced into this death game, even the Deities were forced to climb the Layers. While some lusted for blood, many others did not. He would not blame a random nation’s farmer for the pain inflicted by that nation’s General.

And thus, even if they were his enemies, he still despised people like Yvvtal, brutal killers that selfishly sought their own ends.

At least the Vile King was actually trying to help others, in his own mad way. Constantine was scum, but he was scum with standards. Beings like Yvvtal were the lowest of the low in Micheal’s eyes.

And with that in mind, Micheal made a mental promise to one day wipe Yvvtal’s Inheritance from existence.

“Alright, Legion! They’re all ready!” Simone called out to Micheal, using the name she now knew him by. Her face was covered with a sheen of sweat, but a determined glint could be seen in her eyes.

By this point, all of the snakes had successfully entered the cave, crammed forward right next to the door entrance. The cave sat ever-still, completely unaffected by the multitude of creatures that were now stacked within it.

The passage of time had damaged the Yvvtal’s Inheritance site in many ways that weren’t obvious to the naked eye. Some of that damage had affected the ‘intelligent sacrifice’ requirements.

In the records Micheal read, it was postulated that the original reason Yvvtal required ‘intelligent sacrifices’ was to ensure that whoever entered the Inheritance site was desperate for, or lusted after, power, and willing to make such a sacrifice. The designation of ‘intelligent’ was a bit arbitrary, eventually narrowed down to refer to any creature capable of cognizant communication.

Yvvtal had also likely left behind some trail of clues or hints that this was what needed to be done. Unfortunately for the Fallen Deity, it seemed those clues had long since been wiped out or some mishap had taken place, leading to no one ever actually opening up his Inheritance until long after the Deities had left this world.

That period of time ended up being tens of thousands of years long, stretching far beyond what Micheal could conceptualize. After so much time, the magic guiding these ruins had faded in many ways, leading to the situation they were in now.

The stone gate needed a large release of life force following a faded ritual, but as long as enough life force was used, intelligence or a lack thereof would no longer matter.

Given that the gate had to be reopened anytime someone wanted to use it, this was a blessing in disguise for any weaker intelligent beings.

“Alright! Everyone remain where you are.” Micheal stood up atop the boulder and tapped on his Spatial Ring. He withdrew a small, black grenade with a red button on its handle.

He then jumped over to the cave entrance, clutching the grenade in his hand. He peered into it, studying the unmoving snakes.

They were all sitting still peacefully by the stone entrance, just as planned. He sighed slightly when he saw this, mouthing a silent apology.

He then pressed the red button on the black grenade and lobbed it forward. An instant after, he flipped away from the entrance till he was back atop the boulder, out of direct line of sight.

A frigid couple of seconds passed as the various members of the Rury Group shifted about, but otherwise did nothing else.

Right after…

A quiet 'bang' rang out as a veil of black liquid splattered over all of the frozen snakes, layering them in viscous, flammable oil. The entire entrance to the cave was covered, staining the pale stone a mix of grey and black.

“Simone, are you ready?” Micheal’s voice was cool as he nodded over at the leader of the Rury Group.

She nodded stiffly back. Her eyes were centered on the still snakes, her forehead wrinkling in concentration.

With a bit of focus, she could deaden the nerves of all of these snakes here. This would numb their bodies and minds, preventing them from feeling anything that would happen next.

Micheal sighed as he stepped forward again. This time, he pulled out a small, red firecracker from his Spatial Ring, a normal firecracker from Earth.

Yvvtal’s Inheritance only accepted its sacrifices in a very specific way.

They had to burn to death.

If the sacrifices were knocked unconscious, no matter how much life force you offered, it would fail to activate the Fallen Deity’s Inheritance. They had to be awake and alive, consciously burning to death.

Micheal had managed to find a small loophole around that, using Simone’s powers to deaden the nerves of the snakes and send them into a relative stupor. He managed to assuage most of the cruelty of the requirement, though it still left a bad taste in his mouth. Things like this served no purpose.

Micheal took one last final glance around the hideout, ensuring that everyone was out of distance of the flammable black liquid. He then directly lit the firecracker and threw it, watching it flutter down.

The various guards all gripped their weapons tightly, some of them glowing as they activated various protective Abilities. Micheal noted all of that with a mild hint of amusement. At least they were proactive.

The moment the firecracker touched the black oil, a ‘whoosh’ rang out as it instantly blew up in flames. The fire rapidly sucked itself inside the cave, turning the insides into a glowing inferno. The screams of the blaze wracked the air as the snakes inside were annihilated, melted down to mere ash in a matter of heartbeats.

A torrent of smoke poured out of the cave entry, staining the already dark sky a shade darker. This smoke carried with it the smell of burnt meat and cracked bones, a pungent smell that made some of the nearby warriors gag. Micheal ignored it as it floated by, his attention focused down below him.

His powerful Soul stat gave him an edge as it helped him begin to sense what was happening. He was ready to up and flee at a moment’s notice, opting to not place his full faith in all of what history claimed.

After a tense pause, however, Micheal nodded grimly.

Shortly after the snakes went up in flames, he began to feel a warm, friendly blip of energy start to spread out. This energy felt incredibly comfortable and welcoming, as if one had been discovered by a long lost family member.

“Did it work?”

“Do you see anything?”

“Cough-cough… damned smoke.”

“Chan, are you okay? You don’t look so good.”

A multitude of voices echoed out as the curious members of the Rury Group leaned forward or back, depending on the state of their stomach. The explosion hadn’t been very powerful, more of a rapidly-developed fire that appeared and then vanished just as quickly.

Among the mire of confusion that swarmed the other warriors cut one voice in particular that sounded off clearly.

“I can see it… it really did change. Wait… can I feel it too?” Simone’s voice was awestruck as she looked at the stone gate, and then up to Micheal standing atop it, covered by a thin veneer of smoke. Her eyes seemed to be held tight, as if she was suffering from some sort of backlash due to the deaths of all the snakes she had controlled.

The smoke from the cave gradually faded and dissipated away, revealing Micheal’s calm figure resting atop the boulder and, below him inside the cave, a cool layer of yellow light shining forth from the stone doorway.

“I didn’t lie to you, Simone. The stone door’s been activated, enough to send everything into motion. And now, this whole site…” Micheal’s voice soared into the air crisply, his every word measured,

“It will open at dawn.”

Simone stared at him mutely for a few moments. Micheal looked down at her and then smiled slightly,

"Before we handle all of that, though, I happen to need a small favor from you and your snakes..."

.. .. .. .. .. ..

Micheal yawned as he rested in a small room that had been provided to him by Simone. This was one of several spare rooms that had been set aside for storage as it was needed. Spatial Rings were not yet scarce, and wouldn’t be for a while, but there were still things people preferred to store in one place.

The bed he lay on was top class, as was the mattress. If nothing else, this ‘bandit camp’ out in the wilderness didn’t skimp on furniture, something Micheal was quite grateful for. A lush, white blanket was wrapped around his body, casting away the cool night air of the forest.

As he lay there, preparing to sleep for a few hours before dawn arrived, he began to contemplate his future here on the Second.

Over the past couple of days, he’d gone over all the major points in his head, thinking things through carefully. He’d added up the small things as best he could, and the big things as well. All the clues he had and all the information he’d been able to scrounge up.

He’d done this before, back on the First Layer, but there was no harm in doing it again, to look over everything he reasonably could.

And as he had before, he’d reached the same conclusion.

On the Second Layer, there were three disasters that struck humanity.

The Darmaton Plague that weakened humanity as a whole, the Tree Conflict that almost caused the collapse of the Human Alliance and created a huge amount of internal discord, and the final Great Disaster where all of the races went to war with one another, causing horrific losses.

If Micheal could stop each of these incidents, then the future of humanity would almost certainly turn around for the better. With the security and stability of the First Layer virtually assured, Micheal was convinced that as long as he could cement the stability of the Second, the future was certain to change.

Especially if he could stop the Great Disaster.

No races were spared from that final battle. Even the Byrium Race, the powerful Byrens that were the clear rulers of this world at the moment, eventually fell, leaving only humanity as the victor.

Brutal, horrifying, bloody, the Great Disaster was akin to the World Wars of Earth. Wars that lived on in infamy, battles of enormous scale that spread without care.

While many parts of history were unclear to Micheal, still other parts were abundantly clear.

And of what he did know… he was going to try to rewrite it, to shift the wheels of fate to a track yet unknown.

For, after all of his thinking and planning, Micheal had come to realize something.

No matter how powerful he made humanity… in the end, he simply didn’t have enough time to prepare so many people for war. He could become strong, sure, and he could raise a few strong allies. But he didn’t have the time to get powerful enough to handle entire wars by himself. The sheer losses the human race would suffer if the war ran, even checked as much as possible by him, would be colossal.

‘How can I defeat him? How can I have humanity come out ahead?’ The Vile King seemed omnipresent, with various pawns spread across the entire planet, carrying out his bidding in real-time. Against such an enemy, even armed with knowledge of the future, stopping him seemed like a challenge of titanic proportions.

As those thoughts had plagued his mind, Micheal had gradually reached an inescapable conclusion.

The only way to win was to not fight at all.

He wasn’t going to stop the Great Disaster by making humanity super-ultra-unbeatable. That had been the first idea he came up with, to prepare humanity so well that they couldn’t possibly be defeated. That thought, however… it was simply unfeasible due to the scale and scope of such a mission. He lacked both the time and the resources to handle that.

No, if he wanted to stop the Great Disaster… he would need to prevent it before it could even take place.

He, a man who had only known war for the last dozen years, would have to spread peace.

Micheal raised up his hand and opened it as he looked at the roof above him. He then slowly clenched his hand into a closed fist, doing his best to give off a sense of confidence and stability.

“One step at a time. And it all starts tomorrow.”

The first step he would take to stop the Great Disaster…

It all began at dawn.

.

Chapter 11

Micheal rested peacefully, using the few hours he had to his advantage. Despite being in unknown territory with unsure, temporary allies, his sleep went perfectly well. He put off cultivation, choosing to focus purely on rest for now.

Being able to hunker down and maintain one’s body in conditions like this was a skill he’d picked up over the years. In this case, he’d picked out a few small bells from the Shop and set them up in a few spots around the room, creating a protective, and very hard to see, perimeter. Anyone coming in from any visible entrance would inadvertently ring one of these small bells.

That, combined with his powerful Soul stat that was passively spreading his senses, even in his sleep, made it possible to keep up a basic level of alertness even as his mind rested.

Waking up had proven simple, something he didn’t even have to plan for.

As soon as the dawn sunlight cracked the horizon, the world around Micheal had begun to tremble.

He instantly shot upright, his eyes clearing as he blinked and looked around his small hut. The rooftop above was shaking, as was his bed, the floor, and the walls around him, ringing the bell’s he’d set up. The sturdy build of the hidden camp prevented anything from collapsing, but the miniature earthquake itself lasted a full 20 seconds. Micheal took that time to collect the bells and silence them.

Micheal skipped over anything like breakfast as he immediately put on a long green robe and left his hut, emerging into the campsite proper. He fit his Silk Strider Glove as he left, making sure it was locked and loaded.

Very faint morning light was just starting to creep over the horizon, heralding the arrival of dawn. The campsite was just now starting to bustle as everyone woke up, the odd shaking putting everyone on high alert.

In no time at all, Micheal made his way over to the entrance of the Fallen Deity’s Inheritance. He was the first one to arrive there and promptly began to check the surroundings to see if anything was different.

From the outside, everything looked identical. The cave was still set in the large boulder, going into the ground. Nothing outside of it looked any different.

A few seconds after Micheal arrived, a voice caught his attention, calling out from behind him,

“So this is it, then?” Simone’s words were cool and slightly harried as she emerged from a stone house set very close to the cave entrance. She was wearing her customary scale-patterned armor, but this time with a set of black leather gear protecting the rest of her body, leaving no area exposed.

Behind her, men and women were rapidly forming up into lines, following barked orders by Simone’s two Sub-Leaders. The Rury Group was organizing themselves in a fast, disciplined fashion, as if they had been preparing for this for months.

Micheal glanced back at her and nodded, his face expressionless as he replied,

“Look for yourself.” He motioned towards the cave entrance.

Simone eyed him before taking a few steps forward and peering into the stone cave.

While the outside of the area was relatively unchanged, the insides of the cave had transformed.

The stone doorway that had been sealed shut was now glowing with white light, giving off an aura of power and might that drew the eye. Motes of light were constantly rising from the floor, glittering in gold and white sparkles. The entire entryway had become a sight that inspired a sense of awe, magical and majestic.

Micheal hadn’t warned them about this, or about the earthquake, largely because he hadn’t actually known that these things would happen. He knew about a lot of major stuff, but minor details like this weren’t recorded in the Second Layer’s fragmented history, not that he could find.

Still, as he observed everything, he had to hand it to Yvvtal. The Fallen Deity knew how to impress.

After a moment, his eyes flicked to the side as he looked at Simone, and then the rest of her group that was gathering behind him.

Now that they got the entrance open for him, he didn’t particularly need them to do anything else. The main thing he wanted them for was to provide manpower to speed up opening the doorway. With that done, he was largely free.

Still… he didn’t want to just leave them to deal with Yvvtal’s tomb on their own. They didn’t seem like bad people and, in addition to that, he’d found them to be surprisingly useful. They had extraordinary discipline and coordination, and the potential to be very useful, as long as they were polished suitably.

‘Shin and Sophia won’t be up here for at least a few weeks.’ It wasn’t a bad idea at all to put together a small, elite force he could control. He could both save their lives and efficiently work towards saving humanity at the same time.

Especially so if he could lead them through Yvvtal’s Inheritance. While this group was a bit too weak right now, they could rapidly transform to become much more powerful at this site here, as history had proven.

“Well then…” Micheal began, catching Simone’s attention with a casual wave,

“Let’s head in!”

.. .. .. .. .. ..

It took only a couple of minutes for Simone and her crew to fully prepare. Her two Sub-Leaders didn’t talk a lot, apart from ordering about the rest of the warriors, but they were reliable and got things done fast.

When they finally finished preparing, Micheal, Simone, and the Rury Group entered the Fallen Deity’s Inheritance.

The first thing Micheal felt he walked through the glowing stone doorway was an immeasurable sense of age.

The room he appeared in was a large entrance hall, with a raised ceiling that was at least 10 meters tall. Grand grey pillars rose off to the side, supporting the arching roof up above. The floor was colored a dark grey, with a faded white carpet that stretched all the way down the hall to a set of three doorways, about 80 meters distant.

The dimensions of this hall made no sense, given how small the cave and boulder that had hidden the cave had been. But, well, that was magic. It made little sense.

The hall was lit by several magical symbols inscribed into the pillars, glowing with soft blue light.

Everything in here felt extremely old. As Micheal looked around, he could see a thick layer of dust coating practically everything, causing several of the warriors behind him to cough with every step.

Indeed, as he took a step forward on the faded white carpet, it literally dissipated before his very eyes. His single step onto it caused a small chain reaction that destroyed half of the white carpet.

“Oh my.” Simone held a hand up to her mouth at this in surprise. Her two Sub-Leaders stood close behind her and merely grunted, their hands resting on the hilt of a huge axe that each one had strapped to their back. While the two were clearly not brothers, their bulky appearance and rough faces made them look akin in spirit, if not blood.

They walked down the ancient hall towards the ending pathway, causing the rest of the carpet to dissipate into dust. This area gave off a rather eerie feeling, making everything feel vaguely surreal.

This was the first truly ‘mystical’ place Micheal had seen in his second life. The pseudo-modern world of the First Layer and the ‘Ancient’ world of the Second Layer had two very different setups. This world did, after all, have a deep and rich history behind it.

Micheal tossed the thought from his mind as he looked at the three doors before them and, more importantly, the symbols carved onto each of the three doors.

Each door was made of an opaque crystal, with black letters cut into them. The letters were foreign to any known human language, exotic lines and scrawls that looped around in patterns.

The Shop automatically translated most spoken languages into something that could be understood by the listening human. This particular aspect of the Shop was incredibly useful for communicating with other races, especially because it could be applied in reverse. It didn't always work, especially if someone was speaking in a secret code, but it was handy most of the time.

The Shop could transmute what a human said and make the words be understood through their intent, even if the listener didn’t know any human languages. This made humans a prime target for enslavement by some races looking to find ways to communicate with other races.

However, when it came to ‘written words’, the Shop only applied this function to most human languages. If something was written down in a human language, the Shop could translate it to almost any other human language, with a few exceptions. If something was written down in any other race’s language, however…

The Shop proved useless in translating those things.

It could translate almost any human language to any other, and it could convey the meaning of one’s words or understanding the meaning of another person’s words automatically. But that was its limit. Fantastic, but not perfect.

Fortunately for Micheal, he recognized these symbols.

It was High Divine, the ‘formal’ language that Deities wrote in. A rich and complex style of writing that could convey deep meanings with subtleties that were difficult to grasp, and was often used in the magic creation of things meant to last for very long periods of time. Micheal wasn't sure when the Toren race discovered the language, but that discovery likely helped lead them to ascend and become a true Deity Tribe.

Micheal was no expert, but in his studies of the past, the future, and the present, he had picked up on how to read a number of alien languages. High Divine was one of the ones he could get by on, enough to understand how to read certain manuals or instructions.

‘Knight, Lord, King.’ Each door had a different distinction on it, one that had a very clear progression in Micheal’s eyes. He nodded his head slightly when he saw this.

This matched everything he knew about this place from his first life.

Micheal turned around after spending a moment to study the doors, looking over at Simone again. She was currently talking to her two Sub-Leaders while motioning at the door. A third person had joined her group and was also engaged in the discussion.

This speaker was a middle-aged man with a rather reedy appearance. He was Asian, with short brown hair and of rather short stature. His face was animated as he pointed from door to door, nodding his head in an excited manner.

According to Simone, this was Han, a man that possessed the Magic Librarian Type Ability. It was a unique power that allowed Han to glean information from the environment or objects around him, seeing deeper into things than just what was available on the surface.

According to Simone, his power had proven a great boon in locating this particular forest, and the hidden tomb here within it.

Micheal began to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“…but I’m not sure if we can safely move through each door.” Han had just finished speaking, his eyes wide.

“So there is a certain level of danger?” Simone responded, crossing her arms with a frown.

“Yes, I can see that. Each door, no matter what, has something dangerous behind it. The moment you try to use the door, you will leave here, somehow. It’s not very clear.” Han’s voice as full of frustration.

Micheal realized, then, a bit how this must’ve gone in the original timeline. Han’s power must’ve eventually clued them in on how to get the door open, perhaps he observed something that took him a while to see. Her Group then must have progressed through the tomb cautiously, focusing on trying to either find a cure or grow strong enough to fight against Baron Rex.

‘They probably wasted a huge amount of time in their first life.’ It did make sense. The Rury Gang didn’t publicly appear for several months from now, if Micheal’s memory was correct. Which it was, given that he had a perfect memory at the moment thanks to his Unceasing Mind Ability. Convenient, that.

‘This time is as good as any.’ Micheal walked up to her and her men.

The moment he did so, the two Sub-Leaders immediately turned their full attention towards him, shifting slightly as they prepared to attack at a moment’s notice. Simone’s eyes flashed as she noticed this and turned to look at Micheal.

“I happen to know a little bit about these doors here.” Micheal began, talking in a friendly manner. He ignored the two Sub-Leaders and instead nodded over at Han and Simone,

“They represent 3 different levels of challenges.”

“Challenges?” Simone frowned slightly.

“Yes, something like that. If you can complete one of these challenges, you will get a reward for doing so and can move deeper into this cave. However, you can only complete a single door of the three, and no more.” Micheal explained exactly what he knew in clear terms.

Thousands of years ago, there used to exist magical servants that would explain these doors to anyone that appeared in the tomb. At least, this was what had been surmised through research once the Fallen Deity’s Inheritance gained its infamy.

However, through the winding sands of time, these servants had eventually broken down and vanished. They were simple energy constructs that couldn’t last such a long period.

Thus, Simone’s group had likely been forced to test everything manually in Micheal’s first life.

Simone tactfully didn’t question how Micheal knew this, but instead glanced at Han to see what he thought. The reedy looking man paused quietly after hearing Micheal’s words and seemed to be thinking intensely as he looked at the three doors.

After a few seconds, Han looked away and nodded.

“That could make sense. It is something that could match what I see.” The man’s voice sounded unsure, but it was better than nothing.

“And so these challenges, they relate to the cure to our… condition, then?” Simone’s voice was pointed as she looked at Micheal, pursing her lips.

“Yes but also no.” Micheal replied with a shrug. He held up a hand as Simone was about to angrily retort back, continuing,

“I know what poison you are suffering from. It’s called Withering Snow Poison.” Micheal actually did recognize this fact.

The Withering Snow Poison was, originally, a secret weapon created by one of the Inner Elders of the Divine Might Sect used to help control a target and force them to do your bidding. It was incredibly potent and could not be cured by any normal means, nor by most magical means.

The symptoms Simone and her allies were suffering from were very minimal right now. However, they all felt a sense of impending doom, knowing that they would die in the future, and could physically sense this poison afflicting them.

This matched what Withering Snow Poison felt like to the exact description.

Micheal would know… after all, he himself had been poisoned with Withering Snow Poison before. His faced wrinkled slightly for a split second as a memory tried to flare up.

He quickly suppressed it and continued to speak,

“This is a very difficult poison to cleanse. However, I can tell you with certainty that the cure to your condition exists within this tomb.” He looked back at the three doors and then slowly raised his hand, pointing at the one with the ‘King’ condition.

“In fact… it’s bound to be right behind that door.” Micheal smiled.

Simone’s eyes lit up as she turned to look at the door. Before she could do anything, however, Micheal spoke again,

“But I wouldn’t try it yourself, Simone.” His voice held a hint of caution.

“Watch your tongue, fool, or I’ll take it from you.” One of Simone’s Sub-Leaders broke in, his voice full of unrestrained anger as he glared at Micheal.

“Calm down, Thorin.” Simone’s voice was cool as she looked at Micheal,

“Why not, Legion?” She tilted her head back slightly.

“Because you’ll die. In fact…” Micheal looked from the two Sub-Leaders to Han to the various members of Simone’s team that were milling about in the back of the hall, waiting for orders. He turned back to face Simone with a casual shrug,

“Everyone here that tries that door will die. Except me, that is.” He wasn’t lying. They really would stand a high chance of perishing if they tried to take on the challenge of the ‘King’ door. Even if they did manage to escape with their life, there was no chance anyone in the Rury Group could complete it.

Simone paused, looking rather uncertain as she turned to stare at the door. After a moment’s hesitation, she turned to look at her assistant.

Han wiped a sheen of sweat from his forehead as he looked at the third door for several moments. Those moments dragged into longer moments, and then into minutes as Han stood there, silently focusing.

Micheal remained quiet throughout this, waiting patiently.

Finally, after nearly 4 minutes, Han looked away from the door his eyes wide. His hands trembled as he gulped and nodded his head repeatedly.

“Th-th-th,” He stuttered a few times before he took a deep breath and continued,

“The door has something dangerous behind it. Extremely, extremely dangerous!” The poor man was even shaking, as if he couldn’t bear remembering what he had seen.

Simone sighed as she heard that and then rubbed at her forehead. She then grit her teeth and turned to look back over at Micheal.

Micheal looked back at her with a serious expression, trying his best to convey a sense of honesty. He wanted to look as believable as possible, to gain their trust as quickly as possible.

Simone studied him for a moment before asking what Micheal wanted to hear.

“What do you want from us, Legion?” Micheal smiled internally.

“It’s simple.” Micheal began as he pointed at Simone, and then waved his hand at her Rury Group members,

“I need manpower to work on a project of mine. This project will be somewhat dangerous, but if you follow my orders, you and your men will walk away from it better than how you started.” He finished his short speech, studying Simone’s expression to gauge her reaction.

Simone’s eyes opened a bit wider when she heard what he had to say,

“You want us to… serve as your subordinates?” Her voice held a hint of incredulity.

“Something like that. And to ensure that it all goes well, I will require you to sign a Contract.” Micheal emphasized the last word.

“A contract?” Simone frowned, her forehead wrinkling in confusion.

“A Magic Contract, something that will bind our Souls and prevent either of us from breaking it. We can get one here.” Micheal smiled slightly,

“In return for saving your lives, you and your men will help me complete a mission. I can assure you that it will involve nothing evil, and will only benefit all of humanity. In fact, you and your men should grow to be much stronger as a result of this mission, becoming true elites.”

Micheal’s words were incredibly convincing. He spoke in a commanding tone, standing tall and raising his head to give off an authoritative air. His gaze held the pride of a lion, giving off a sense of complete confidence.

Simone bit her lip as she considered this, taking a moment to look back at her team. Her mouth twisted as thoughts flickered through her mind, adding things up and examining the situation.

Micheal sighed internally as he saw this. He didn’t like using this sort of method. But there was no other way he would be able to form a team of his own on such short notice, and if he wanted to get things done here, he needed people to work with.

Finally, after thinking for several moments, Simone turned her gaze back to Micheal. She grit her teeth as she looked at him.

“What would you have us do?”

.

Chapter 12

A cool, soothing sensation enveloped Micheal, as if he had just jumped into a pool of slightly chilled water. This feeling washed into his mind, refreshing and relaxing him in a way that was difficult to describe in words. His eyes were closed and he was no longer breathing, yet his body felt healthy and hale.

As Micheal felt all of this, he kept his mind alert, examining each and every detail that he encountered. It was a very strange sensation, as if he was entering into a dream-like state.

Just moments later, that cool sensation vanished and his breathing came back. The world returned to normal as his feet hit a solid surface, causing him to stumble slightly before catching himself.

Micheal blinked as he cleared his vision, looking around at where he had landed.

He was at the base of a mountain. A large, grassy plain spread out around this large mountain, dotted with a few trees on occasion. Warm sunlight beat down overhead, the mid-morning light falling upon Micheal’s eyes.

The mountain itself was decently large, at least as tall as some of the biggest mountains of Earth. Micheal could see a faint ring of clouds surrounding the top of the mountain, giving it a kind of ethereal quality, as if Gods lived there.

On this mountain, Micheal could faintly make out a collection of buildings built up into the face of the mountain. A long, straight path of stairs led up to these buildings, scaling halfway up the mountain. Hundreds of figures were currently moving up this stair path in the distance, scurrying upwards in a hurry.

Just a few minutes before this, Micheal had taken Simone to the side to have an in-depth conversation, one where he explained what he needed of her and how everything would work. Eventually, she’d agreed to his plans, but only on the condition that he cured her and her men of their debilitating condition first.

It was a reasonable demand. They had only known each other a brief amount of time, gaining anyone’s trust was bound to be difficult in such a short period. In addition, their relationship had started off with Micheal being prepared to kill her if need be, not exactly the best impression.

Micheal had no reason to deny her demand, and so their agreement was struck.

It was a relationship based on equal exchange. Unlike Micheal’s friendship with Shin and Sophia, his alliance with Simone was strictly business. Apart from her current misfortune, Simone didn’t have a tragic backstory or a secret past that plagued her. She was calculating, but honest, and made her stance clear to Micheal, with no surprises.

Now, all Micheal needed to do was find some Contract Seals and find a way to cure the still-secret Withering Snow Poison. After that, with a little bit more guidance from him, he would be well on his way to creating the elite proxy force that he would need later.

Conveniently enough, and the entire reason Micheal had proposed this plan in the first place, both of those things could be found here in the Fallen Deity's Inheritance.

And after that conversation, one thing led to another. Micheal gave Simone and her crew some detailed instructions on what the three doorways meant, and what the challenges behind the ‘Knight’ door would be. The tips he gave were invaluable, clues picked up from the future that would save Simone and her team an immense amount of time and effort.

And while the Rury Group was making their preparations to challenge the ‘Knight’ door in various waves, Micheal moved all the way over past the ‘Lord’ door to the ‘King’ door.

And then, without any dramatic flair, he challenged it immediately. He rested his hand directly on the glowing symbol and injected some of his ‘Ki’ into it, activating the ancient Inheritance ground.

And that was how he ended up here.

“Panho! We gotta hurry!” A boy’s voice called out from behind Micheal, catching his attention. Micheal turned around, his eyes narrowing slightly.

A teenager was jogging over towards Micheal, waving frantically. He looked to be around 15 or 16 years old, a few years younger than Micheal’s physical age. He was wearing a simple leather tunic and a plain shirt, with a longsword strapped to his waist.

At first glance, he looked very ordinary, like a human from before the modern era, where people fought with swords and not guns. However, when Micheal looked closer…

Golden skin that shined with a bronze hue, silver hair that glowed faintly, a handsome, strong appearance boosted by a naturally muscular body despite his younger age…

As he saw this, Micheal realized something that made his face twitch, involuntary rage forcing its way into his heart.

This teenager was not a human.

Nor was he a Farian, a Byren, or any of the other races that inhabited the Second Layer.

He was a Deity.

Specifically, a Toren, of the Toren Tribe, one of the 12 Tribes of Deities.

The 12 Tribes of Deities all looked different, based on which Tribe each Deity was from. The Tribe that had wiped out humanity, in the end, were the blue-skinned Morians that, while humanoid, looked very different compared to a regular human. Torens, on the other hand, looked very similar to normal humans.

Each Toren was naturally strong, born with strength that vastly surpassed a regular human. Of all of the 12 Tribes, the Torens were the Tribe that was most physically resilient, born with skin that could easily block bullets. Each and every member of the Toren Tribe was basically a superhuman that could live for thousands of years without any training whatsoever.

As with all of the Tribes, one of the major ‘downsides’ to their species was the difficulty Torens faced in conceiving offspring. As a result of that, despite their longevity, the population of their race was very limited in scope.

This was the first Deity Micheal had seen since he came back to the past.

Killing intent flowed in Micheal’s body and Soul, a colossal wave of pure animosity that threatened to jump out from his body and slam into the teenager in a heartbeat. These feelings were built into the very fiber of his being, borne from the blood shed by those he cared for, offered up at the altar of war in sacrifices to stop the rampage of Gods.

‘Control.’ A single thought reined in Micheal’s overwhelming emotions as he swept back that killing intent with the mastered discipline of a Swordmaster.

In the meantime, the teenager flinched backwards and almost fell down, his eyes widening in surprisingly realistic shock. After a few seconds, however, he blinked and looked around in confusion, as if he wasn’t quite sure what had happened.

He quickly recovered as he turned his focus back to Micheal, renewing his earlier speech.

“The Disciple Selection Test is about to begin! Come on, Panho! I’m going up ahead!” The teenager rushed off, his short silver hair ruffling as he began to sprint up the stairs that led up the mountain.

Micheal watched him go, blinking slowly as he took a couple of seconds to calm down.

‘What is wrong with me?’ He frowned as he began to jog after the teenager, his mouth drawn into a thin line. To show bloodlust to a clearly innocent teenager, even if that boy was a member of a race that had caused him unending pain…

It was very unlike him, even if that teenager was a fake 'dream' creation.

His emotions had become more and more volatile ever since he arrived here on the Second Layer. He found it difficult to keep his mental state, feeling as if he wasn’t in complete control of himself. Not to the point where it would result in any serious lapse… but to the point where it was noticeable to him.

Feelings like this were something he had not felt in a very, very long time.

He knew the reason, of course. He wasn’t an idiot. Even if he didn’t want to face the issue head-on, the fact that his heart ached told him the truth of the situation.

It had to be because of her.

Isabelle Solara.

She was alive once more.

He sighed and shook his head, focusing back on the immediate present.

His arrival at the base of a mountain, the fact that he had been greeted by a young Toren, everything thus far had occurred exactly how Micheal had heard it should. This meant, for certain, that he was successfully taking the King’s Challenge.

The Knight’s Challenge, the Lord’s Challenge, and the King’s Challenge. Each of these three ‘Challenges’ were locked behind a different door. Once you completed one challenge, you were never allowed to complete another one.

In their own way, these Challenges served as the ‘filters’ that Yvvtal had placed into his Inheritance.

The Knight’s Challenge was very difficult to complete. Even with the in-depth tips and tricks Micheal gave to Simone, things that practically laid out every hard part of the Challenge, it would take weeks, at the minimum, for her entire group to pass it, and the risk of death was still present.

Even for Simone, the most talented of her group, it should take her, at the bare minimum, several days and might come out injured. The power she and her group had the potential to gain was great, but the risks, even with Micheal’s help, were still there.

If they hadn’t had the secrets Micheal knew to make everything easier, it would take her months to complete and many of her warriors would almost certainly die.

Completing it would provide one with ample rewards, enough to greatly boost an average human's strength.

Past the Knight’s Challenge was the Lord’s Challenge.

The Lord’s Challenge was vastly more difficult than the Knight’s Challenge, and provided vastly better rewards. However, even with Micheal’s guidance and help, he had no confidence that anyone from Simone’s group would be able to complete the Challenge.

He wasn’t knocking them, not entirely. Simone did seem to be pretty talented and strong-willed, definitely within the upper echelon of humanity.

However, these Challenges… they weren’t designed for humans.

They were designed for Deities.

Taking the Lord’s Challenge would’ve been suicide for Simone.

And as for the King’s Challenge…

It was unfathomably difficult for a human being to complete.

In fact, there were only two other humans that Micheal knew of that managed to barely complete the King’s Challenge.

Part of this was because many of the supremely talented First Wavers had already moved past the Second Layer before the Fallen Deity’s Inheritance appeared. The First Wave was famed for the disproportionate number of super experts found within it. In addition, the Fallen Deity’s Inheritance wasn’t open long enough to allow for billions of humans to try it.

Still… hundreds of thousands of humans, if not millions, did manage to make the trip here, all in an attempt to pass these infamous Challenges.

And of those huge swathes of talented warriors, a mere two humans passed the King’s Challenge.

Baron Fortuna of the Four Barons and the Nirvana Saint of the Purgatory Church.

No one else.

Plenty of people died trying to attempt it, eventually leading to the King’s Challenge becoming a taboo that was avoided, until the eventual disappearance of the Fallen Deity’s Inheritance. But other than those two souls, no one else ever passed, not that was publicly known.

Micheal didn’t find that very surprising. He snorted at the thought as he began to sprint up the stairs, his eyes studying the surroundings.

The first part of the King’s Challenge was as he’d heard.

You were transported to a mountain and forced to take part in a Disciple Selection Test. If you managed to complete the Disciple Selection Test, you would be transported to a ‘Newcomer’s Tournament,’ where you would compete with other new disciples for victory.

That was the complete ‘Challenge.’

All in all, it was a fairly standard occurrence for the Second Layer.

This was an entire planet dominated by martial arts. Martial art fighting competitions were a dime a dozen, and there were actual ‘Disciple Selection Tests’ all the time, though they often went by different names.

Micheal had, thus far, managed to avoid interacting with the mainstream society of the Second Layer. He’d spoke with some humans and had contact with a single Camp, but nothing else beyond that. The only Byren he’d seen was one of the guards stationed to work with (and possibly spy on) humanity.

As such, his first real welcome to the society of the Second Layer was happening in a place where it wasn’t even real.

Micheal’s lungs burned as he continued to sprint up the stairs, racing after the Toren. He now moved as quickly as possible behind the teenager, flashing up the stairs in an instant. Each step felt rough beneath his feet, the enhanced gravity of the Second Layer ever-present here, even in this dreamworld Challenge.

This was all part of the test, according to what he knew. He needed to show an eagerness to take the test, to show a thirst for power, for whatever reasons he might have, and a refusal to give up or show weakness.

And, given his rather driving mission in this life, it wasn’t hard to come up with all of that.

As he scaled the mountain, he passed by dozens of figures. He could vaguely make out blips of golden skin or flashes of silver hair, clueing him in to the fact that he was sprinting past dozens of Torens.

He didn’t let that distract him as he continued to race forward.

His body, here in the King’s Challenge, was not the exact same as his normal body. There were certain subtle differences to it, but at the same time, many similarities.

For example, his Silk Strider Glove was nowhere to be seen. However, his body and face still had the slightly leaner build he’d gained ever since he’d appeared on the Second Layer, showing that his build and body were still the same.

A sheen of sweat covered his forehead as he continued to struggle upwards. He was about a quarter of the way up the mountain, and roughly halfway to his final destination. If he wanted to, he could bring out his Life Orbs and use them to fly up, still able to sense the connection with those tools.

Doing that, however, would obviously defeat the purpose of the challenge.

Thus, Micheal continued to persevere. The pain and exhaustion that tried to sweep past his mind bounced off a stiff wall of determination that even the fiercest cannons could not shatter. Pain like this was nothing to Micheal but a shadow of his own future practice.

Finally, after several long moments of frantic running, cool mountain air wafted over his body, bringing with it the scents of nature and the woodlands, a refreshing smell that cleared Micheal’s mind. He had almost reached the location of the Disciple Selection Test and the midway point up the mountain, the ‘Main Courtyard.’

“We’re almost there, Panho! Come on!” The nameless teenager needlessly reminded Micheal of what he already knew as he raced up a couple more sets of stairs, just barely leaving Micheal’s sight. No matter how fast Micheal ran, he had been completely unable to pass by the teenager.

Several stern-looking Toren guards glanced at Micheal, standing watch on the top of the stairs as he emerged. They were dressed in relaxed leather armor and wielded large spears or blades in their hands rather casually.

Behind them, a set of grand courtyards and large buildings spread out, built into the rocky face of the mountain. Micheal’s eyes flicked up to them, and then back behind him for a split moment as he realized something.

The groups of Torens moving up and down the stairs below looked more like NPC’s in a video game than anything else, moving rather aimlessly, as if they had just been placed there to fill the space.

‘They probably had, actually.’ Micheal thought, nodding slightly. This entire dreamworld vision was, after all, fabricated with some strange type of magic. Perhaps those groups had been intended to add a feeling of pressure.

He didn’t hesitate as he followed right after the nameless teenager, headed towards the biggest courtyard in sight. As he followed, he mentally began to prepare himself.

For what came next, he needed to do everything exactly how he had planned it out in his head. A single mistake could cost him dearly.

For, Yvvtal’s Inheritance had a singular purpose.

And it was that singular purpose that Micheal was going to take advantage of and use to absolutely rob the Fallen Deity blind.

Yvvtal wished to find a new vessel in which to reincarnate his Spirit Body.

In simpler terms:

He wanted to come back to life by taking over someone else’s body.

The fact that he created an entire Inheritance Ground, stocked full of ‘Challenges’ and valuable rewards, built up over decades of effort, might seem excessive at first. And, indeed it was.

However, in the time that Yvvtal and the Deities lived on this world, things like Inheritance sites held certain expectations. They were designated areas to train one’s descendants and to pass on one’s teachings, while rewarding those that were talented.

Yvvtal created this Inheritance site as a backup should he ever perish. It was his last resort, should he ever need to use it.

With that in mind, he needed to make it extremely convincing. Deities, in his era, were extremely perceptive beings. If his Inheritance site didn’t look and function like a proper Inheritance site, it would get ignored or worse, destroyed.

Yvvtal could create a convincing Inheritance Grounds while also, at the same time, use that to filter out beings that he couldn’t fully reincarnate into. His standards for a body were both extremely high and unique, meaning not just anyone would do.

And with that in mind, a glint of determination flashed in Micheal’s eyes as he readied himself.

He needed to do what even Baron Fortuna and the Nirvana Saint had failed.

Not only did he need to complete the King’s Challenge…

He needed to complete it perfectly, earning himself several great, and very specific, rewards.

And then, after all of that effort, he would achieve the final reward for perfect completion of the King’s Challenge.

Involuntary bodily possession by Yvvtal the Destroyer.

“Perfect.”

.

Chapter 13

.

‘Status.’

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— - Status — -

Name: Micheal Care

Points: 200

Race: Human

Age: 18

Physique: 1 Star

Soul Quality: 3 Star

Strength - 80

Endurance - 56

Recovery - 55

Soul - 36

Abilities - (5/7)

Life Orb Master

Ki Cultivator (Earth Tier - Early)

Grandmaster Sword Mastery (1/5)

Impact Release

Ceaseless Mind

.

Micheal checked his status out of habit as he walked into the grand courtyard, noting that all of his stats and Abilities remained identical and that he could still access the Shop. Even his Points total was the same.

Despite that, he was very aware that this was not the real world.

As Micheal emerged into the open courtyard, he spotted groups of Torens milling about near the center. They were a mix of ages, some that looked roughly 15 to 16 years old while others that could be in their mid-30s.

Four older Torens could be seen on the far end of the courtyard talking to each other. These warriors were dressed in long white robes, unlike the leather-garbed guards. In fact, these robes looked very similar to a type of robe Micheal recognized from Earth’s past, a Greek chiton.

This was the ‘formal’ wear of the Torens, as Micheal had come to learn. It was the garb of choice when participating in a type of formal state meeting, a formal ceremony, anything of that nature.

The moment Micheal entered the courtyard, it was as if a switch had been flipped. The four Instructors at the end of the courtyard finished talking among each other and turned their focus over to the milling Torens.

“Alright, you mongrels!” One of the instructors, a heftier Toren with hair that was cut short, yelled out loud, his voice booming. The words he spoke gave off a physical feeling of pressure, even to Micheal who was on the opposite end of the courtyard.

“Group up by age! Child, Half-Grown, Full-Grown!” As he named each age group, he pointed to one of the three other instructors. He gave off a sense that he brooked zero argument and would obliterate anyone who went against him.

Quickly, the milling Torens began to split up into the different lines. Micheal’s eyes flicked from side to side as he walked towards the group of ‘Half-Grown’ Torens.

He recognized these age groups, thankfully, one of the stray facts his perfect memory could recall with ease. The ‘Child’ group was for those aged 0 to 14, ‘Half-Grown’ was for those aged 15 to 25, and ‘Full-Grown’ was for anyone older than 25.

Torens grew slightly slower than humans, not entering into full maturity till 25. Their longevity, however, even without Ki Cultivation, could exceed hundreds of years.

In short order, Micheal found himself waiting in the correct line. Every Toren in the group was quiet and tense, facing forward silently as the Instructors watched. Before, there had been a bit of a relaxed feel as everyone waited. Now, however, Micheal could only sense a foreboding nervousness.

‘Probably another purposeful addition.’ Yvvtal’s requirements for his Inheritor really were quite high.

Time passed by quickly as Micheal’s line moved forward. Despite his powerful body and keen senses, he couldn’t hear any of what each candidate said to the Instructor at the front of the line.

This was because of the powerful Aura each Instructor was releasing. A physical manifestation of energy that could affect reality itself, Auras came about through either high concentrations of Ki used in a specific way or through unique Physiques.

As Micheal waited patiently in line, ignoring the pressure and nerve-wracking atmosphere, he mentally reflected on what he knew about the Torens.

Among the Tribes of Deities, there were some that were born at high levels of Ki Cultivation, given an inherent advantage from the very start. The Toren Tribe, however, never saw such an occurrence take place.

No matter how prestigious one’s parents, every Toren came into existence starting with no Ki Cultivation at all, unlike humans who could pass on some degree of their Ki Cultivation and powers to their offspring. It was only through constant practice and dedication that they could reach high levels of Ki Cultivation and grow their power significantly.

Compared to humans, Torens had both an easier and a harder time in their Ki Cultivation. The concept may seem contradictory, and it was at first glance. However, if one dived deeper, everything made sense.

Most Torens were born with the ‘Heavenly Gold Physique.’ This gifted them inborn strength and defensive prowess that vastly outstripped normal humans. It also enhanced the gains they made in their ‘Ki Cultivation’ and allowed them to grow in strength at a rapid speed.

However, it wasn’t all sunshine and daisies for Torens. They did have a notable disadvantage.

And that had to do with their ‘comprehension’ ability.

The more powerful a being grew, the more important it was for them to be able to grasp certain concepts in order to keep growing. Sword Mastery was a clear example of this.

It took Micheal constant years of focus to reach where he was, carried forward by his indomitable will to grow stronger and earned talent for Sword Mastery. While Sword Mastery, as a concept, was relatively easy to grasp at lower levels, the higher up you went, the more and more difficult it was to progress.

It was magical, in its own way. The fact that you just needed to ‘understand’ something with your mind and Soul in order to use it was a rather miraculous thing. As long as your Soul was able to sense and control the concept, the energy inherent within it, you could use it, to varying degrees of success.

Torens might be physically powerful monsters, but in terms of comprehension, their Physiques put them at a natural disadvantage.

If comprehending the Basic Tier of Sword Mastery for a human took 1 point of effort, it might take a Toren 10 points of effort to grasp the same thing. It could be more or less, but it was a certain fact that Torens comprehensive capabilities were rather low.

They weren’t dumb. Merely, their capacity to sense mystical concepts like ‘Sword Energy’ was rather low.

This meant that most Torens relied on physical attacks and martial arts to defend themselves, creating vast schools of warriors all competing with different techniques.

In fact, the entire society here on the Second Layer was built on what the Torens left behind. Their martial legacies, any and all remnants that they abandoned when they left this world thousands and thousands of years ago.

The Byrens had been one of the original, intelligent species of the Ancient World. The Torens invaded this planet long ago and took it for themselves, enslaving the Byrium Race. After some years, the Toren race as a whole moved on, seeking out different planets and realms of existence.

Micheal didn’t know exactly how the Torens left. But it was a fact that many of the Tribes of Deities had the power to ‘hop’ between worlds, a power that was thankfully greatly hampered in the 7 Layers.

Still, with their unique Heavenly Gold Physique, even the weakest normal Toren had at least a 5 Star Physique rating, letting them maximize and increase the potential of their body, their natural talent.

Actually reaching one’s maximum potential became significantly harder as one progressed. While a powerful Physique made it easier to progress in general, what was most sought after were the new limits you could reach.

Finally, Micheal reached the second spot in line, just one person behind the current testee. From here, he got a decent view of what was happening before him.

One of the four Instructors, a Toren with curly white hair and a stern expression on his face, was glancing over a much younger Toren, one that appeared to be around Micheal’s age. In the Instructor’s right hand was a large, glowing blue rock. The Instructor was currently waving this rock over the younger Toren’s head.

He then spoke a few words and waved for the Toren to step a few meters behind him. All of the Torens that had been tested had moved on to these groups and were currently waiting patiently, at the back of the courtyard.

‘It’s still the same.’ Micheal mentally sighed in relief as he saw this.

This was the first ‘Test’ Yvvtal had set for those trying to inherit his powers, as well as to weed out his full Inheritor that he would use to reincarnate.

It was a test that had two parts. One that was obvious, and one that was hidden.

The obvious part was rather apparent.

The rock the Instructor was holding was called a ‘Physique Gauging Stone.’ It would give the Instructor a basic understanding of a being’s Physique through a collection of feelings. Over time, the Torens had streamlined these Gauging Stones to narrow down what each sensation meant.

It could distinguish between a normal, for a Toren, 5 Star Physique, a weaker 4 Star Physique, or an abnormally powerful 6 Star Physique with ease, helping find any hidden talents among the Toren race.

The only time it wouldn’t work was if it faced something completely out of the ordinary.

For example: Micheal’s comparatively much, much weaker Physique.

Micheal was aware of all of this. He knew that, compared to a Toren, his body held nowhere near as much potential. Some things couldn’t be accounted for simply with normal training. He did know of a way to raise his Physique to 2 Star here on the Second, but he obviously couldn’t do that right now, nor would that make a significant difference.

“Alright, alright! Next! You there, with the weird hair!” The Instructor waved at him, the man’s voice sounding off in Micheal’s ears out of nowhere. Micheal immediately took several steps forward, his eyes gleaming faintly with energy.

At the end of the day, he wasn’t a Toren.

However… There was no rule that said Yvvtal wouldn’t be interested in reincarnating into a human.

After all, in Micheal’s original timeline, Yvvtal eventually reincarnated into a Byren, causing no end of trouble for humanity during the Great Disaster before he found a new host and left the Second Layer. While this particular Byren never recounted how he was chosen, some interested researchers had managed to scry this Byren’s memories after he was abandoned and perished.

And it was from here that Micheal had based his entire plan, and why he had come here in the first place.

Yvvtal didn’t care how powerful his host’s body was.

After all, in the past, the powerful warrior had lived for years and years focused on nothing except growing stronger. Eventually, however, he hit a wall in power that he could not break past. As a result of this, he went on to experiment on thousands and gained his notorious name, killing reprehensible numbers of innocents as he tried to figure out ways to surpass his limits.

He didn’t desire a physically powerful Physique.

What he desired was a strong-willed host with a Physique that boosted their comprehensive capabilities.

It didn’t matter if they were a Toren, a Farian, or even a human.

All that mattered is that they met Yvvtal’s expectations.

“Alright, first of all, how old are you?” The Instructor looked at Micheal with a slightly bored expression. Despite that, the pressure the Toren gave off was immense, enough to nearly send Micheal to his knees. A sheen of sweat formed on Micheal’s forehead as he resisted it.

“I am 18 years old.” The Torens used a calendar that was close enough in length to humanity’s to mean he was the same age. They only had 4 ‘months’ but each one was very long.

He answered honestly for a reason.

Yvvtal could tell if he was lying.

This entire test was mired in undercurrents designed to let Yvvtal filter out any unwanted elements. Any time someone lied during one of his tests, Yvvtal would automatically know what they lied about.

Micheal was well aware of this and plotted his answers out carefully as a result.

“I see, I see.” The Instructor raised the Gauging Stone up above Micheal’s head. The stone slowly began to glow, blue light shimmering off it in waves.

After a few seconds, the Instructor frowned.

“Do you have anything unique about your Physique or body type?” Like clockwork, the Toren asked exactly the question Micheal had been waiting for.

When it came to his body, there were still things Micheal wasn’t sure about.

Micheal still wasn’t entirely certain what all his Soul Quality stat meant. He had a general understanding that it boosted the power of his Abilities and allowed him to enhance his comprehension of them.

However, his Soul right now was far too weak to handle comprehending Grandmaster Tier Sword Mastery, nor were his other Abilities ones that required any comprehension. He had yet to truly experience the full effects of a 3 Star Soul Quality stat.

His physical stats were nothing special compared to a Toren, leaving him with a potentially mildly interesting Physique at most. The best he could hope for, given what he had right now, was to be ignored by Yvvtal completely.

So if his body wasn’t powerful enough and there wasn’t anything he was certain would draw Yvvtal’s attention, then that meant there was only one thing left to do…

And it was what Micheal did best...

"Yes, there is something unique about my body."

...Shamelessly cheat.

“It has inherited the memories and powers of a man who has killed a Dragon.”

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Chapter 14 There were many dangerous creatures that could be found throughout the 7 Layers. Mythical Phoenixes that burned with overwhelming fire, gargantuan World Apes that ravaged anything in their paths, blinding White Lions that had manes formed from pure light.

However, among all the beasts in all of the 7 Layers, there was one breed that reigned supreme. The legends among the legends, the absolute powers that were hailed as the most powerful non-Humanoids to exist.

Dragons.

There were many different breeds of Dragons, from the Colored Species representing various elements, to the Transcendent Dragons that embodied certain concepts, to the extremely rare Colossal variants. One and all, however, were extremely powerful.

Even the 12 Tribes of Deities trod carefully around Dragons of all kinds, knowing that they were among the fiercest of enemies to make.

Of all the species that had been forced to compete in this horrific death game, only the humanoid Dragonkin had any natural relations to Dragons. Apart from that, every other species would interact with them only when they couldn’t avoid it. Only humanoid species were competing in the battle of the 7 Layers, despite there being many intelligent non-humanoid species in existence.

The Toren Tribe that Yvvtal was part of had some history with various breeds of Dragons.

At the time that the Torens lived on the Ancient World, they weren’t considered a full ‘Tribe’ in the Tribes of Deities. That title was an earned one based around some very specific and complex requirements, explaining why each Tribe looked so very different.

Back thousands of years ago, the Ancient World was dominated by three species, back when the Byrens were a quiet, unimportant breed.

The Torens, a species that came to the Ancient World because of its heavier restrictions and the benefits to those restrictions when it came to physical training.

The Dark Wraiths, a ghostly natural species that came about from the mystical energy that serenaded the Ancient World. They were very powerful but small in number and, despite their ominous name, mostly herbivorous.

And finally, the last of the three species…

The Blue Drakes.

Blue Drakes were a sub-species of the Draconic Race, one that didn’t hold the true power of a full-blooded Dragon.

Despite that, however, each and every Blue Drake was a leviathan of extreme might here on the Second. Just through their own natural growth, every Blue Drake would reach the Sky Tier of Ki Cultivation naturally, without putting forth any effort at all. This, combined with their 4 meters tall and 13 meters long body turned them into overwhelming killing machines.

Tough azure scales that easily blocked all kinds of weapons, deadly claws that could shear through most metals, razor-sharp teeth that cut through flesh like it was butter…

They couldn’t breathe out any type of magical flame or energy attack, but just based on the power of their body and natural growth, Blue Drakes were the true rulers of the Ancient World. The only real thing limiting them was their minute numbers. At their prime, there were less than 100 Blue Drakes in existence.

The history of the Blue Drakes, the Dark Wraiths, and the Torens was a fractured, unclear one. Micheal knew from history that the three races battled very often, instigated over territorial disputes, colonization attempts, border conflicts, and a whole host of issues.

None of these races were ‘evil,’ but rather, their own complex political ecosystems divided along various lines.

What Micheal did know was that, at some point in time, only the Torens were left, of the three dominant species. History never determined what exactly went down, beyond a few vague hints. Micheal had looked into this quite a bit back in his past life, one of the few times he did his own research and theorizing.

But from what Micheal did know… Yvvtal the Destroyer would have been alive at the time where Blue Drakes still existed. And Yvvtal, as a man obsessed with growing more powerful, would have inadvertently clashed with a Blue Drake before.

And he would have lost.

Because, here on the Second, the Torens had yet to step into their full strength that would launch them up to the prestigious title of ‘Deity.’ And Blue Drakes might only be a sub-species of a Dragon… but they were still part Dragon. It was a qualitative and quantitative difference in strength.

For Yvvtal who had yet to even fully grasp the Master Tier of Sword Mastery, attempting to defeat a Blue Drake on his own was an exercise in futility.

The demise of the Blue Drakes on the Ancient World was a mystery, but it wasn’t one that could’ve been resolved through ordinary means.

The Instructor looked at Micheal with wide eyes. For a brief second, the man’s face went slack and a dazed look flashed within his gaze.

A microsecond later, that look vanished as if it had never been, everything returning back to a semblance of normalcy as the Instructor looked down at Micheal with a warm smile.

“Ah, how absolutely beyond the norm… Can you describe that in more detail? The more we can determine about your Physique, the higher your placement.” The man’s tone had shifted, ever so slightly. His voice sounded practically identical to how it had before. However, his way of speaking, the casual tilt of his head, the relaxed manner he’d adopted…

All of these were rather minor details that one wouldn’t normally notice changing, not when it was in someone that was a stranger. Micheal, however, noticed each and every one, not a single thing escaping his steady gaze.

‘Oh man.’ His heart rate bumped up ever so slightly as he realized something.

He was talking to Yvvtal, right here, right now.

The remnants of the Fallen Deity’s Soul controlled this Inheritance intimately, letting him jump to anywhere within it in an instant.

Micheal’s original plan was to first gain Yvvtal’s attention and slowly convince the Deity he was a perfect choice. However, he hadn’t fully realized how big a draw the information he’d offered would be to the Fallen Deity.

Anyone that had the power to kill a Dragon on their own… to Yvvtal, this was likely one of his ultimate goals. The fact that Micheal’s words were ‘true’ in a sense meant that only two options were left.

Either he was insane or he actually possessed the memories and powers of a being that had killed a Dragon. Either way, this was something Yvvtal attended to immediately, dropping any and everything else he might have been doing.

As it clicked in Micheal’s head how important this was to Yvvtal, he slightly adjusted his plans to account for that.

“Yes, of course, Instructor!” Micheal replied slowly. His voice was calm and didn’t betray even a hint of nervousness, as if he was completely oblivious to the fact that he was now talking to Yvvtal the Destroyer. He cupped his fists and bowed slightly as he spoke, following the cultural norms for a Toren. He always found it interesting how these ancient martial arts societies had so many cultural similarities that seemed to transcend species and worlds.

He shook the stray thought from his mind as he continued,

“It all started several months ago…” Micheal began to narrate a vague, but essentially accurate story of how he returned to the past, answering Yvvtal’s questions as they arrived. He also purposefully went by the name Legion, a name he truthfully considered one of his own.

Just a few months ago, he had been a regular, 18-year-old human, albeit one in the middle of apocalyptic disappearances that were sweeping over the world, month by month.

The arrival of the Shop, of his memories and the resurgence of his powers, and the gradual rise to strength as his journey began all unfolded from his lips. He kept plenty of things secret or said them in vague enough terms to hide what needed to be hidden, but he never directly lied.

As such, a completely true tale of someone who’s body gained great power over a very short period of time unfolded.

If one looked at his life in a vacuum, there was really only a single conclusion that could be drawn when all of the facts were added up.

His body had undergone an ‘Awakening’ of some sort and gained powers beyond the extraordinary, powers that took regular beings an enormous amount of effort and time to gain, in mere weeks. There was no other realistic explanation that any reasonable person would draw.

He was the very picture of a ‘Blessed Child,’ someone gifted with supernatural abilities far beyond the norm.

The exact image of what Yvvtal was seeking.

“What an incredible tale and journey you’ve been through, young warrior. Now that I’ve heard this, I can, indeed, sense something special about your Soul.” Yvvtal’s voice took on a musing one as he looked at Micheal, ancient eyes filled with the calmness of a steady sea, sizing him up as Micheal stood under the glowing Physique Gauging Stone.

Micheal’s body twitched unwillingly as Yvvtal’s gaze swept over him. It was a literally unwilling twitch, a result of some type of electrical energy sweeping through him. It wasn’t harmful, but likely intended to zero in on his powers in more detail.

“Hmm…” Yvvtal rubbed his chin, a small frown appearing on the Toren face he now possessed. He gave off a sense of being in deep thought.

Micheal assumed the man had discovered how physically weak Micheal was in comparison to everyone else present.

Despite several of these Torens being the same age, Micheal knew he was at least three to five times weaker in terms of physical strength. That was a racial gap that he couldn’t overcome yet, not without a great deal of effort and Physique modification.

A few moments passed as Micheal waited there patiently.

Finally, Yvvtal spoke up,

“I can see the potential you have, young warrior. However, if you want to continue to the Ranking Tournament, you will have to face a certain level of danger.” Yvvtal kept up the act of the dreamworld, nodding patiently at Micheal.

“With your special Physique, you might be able to do well, but your physical power is well below par.” He shook his head,

“It might be best if you take on a few challenges and then retire.”

Micheal’s eyes widened ever so slightly as his opinion of Yvvtal went up a notch.

The man wasn’t only a prolific murderer, he was also as sly as the devil.

Yvvtal didn’t give off even a single hint of his horrific true nature. Their entire conversation thus far had been completely genial. There was no evil glint in his eyes or diabolical smirk on his face. Instead, he seemed almost earnest and thoughtful, as if he genuinely cared.

If Micheal hadn’t known the full history of what happened here, these past few seconds where he formed his first impression might have even convinced him that the Fallen Deity wasn’t that bad.

“I would like to compete anyway, Instructor.” Micheal bowed his head again as he went on,

“I am confident in my current strength, even compared to those with more powerful bodies.” His voice brimmed with confidence, staying true to his words.

Yvvtal looked at Micheal for a second, a conflicted look appearing in his eyes. He gave off the image of a man struggling with a tough decision before he sighed and nodded his head,

“Very well, Legion. Prove to me your passion and strength. Show me the full extent of your newly awakened Physique.” The Fallen Deity smiled warmly as he reached out and patted Micheal on the shoulder.

“I’m sure you will have no problems entering into the Sect.” The Instructor’s attitude abruptly shifted once more. All of the subtle mannerisms of Yvvtal disappeared in a flash as the Toren returned back to his original state.

“Congratulations, disciple! You have what it takes to pass the first test. Please wait over there with the other disciples.” The Instructor spoke without missing a beat, as if he hadn’t skipped anything despite having his personality temporarily taken over by Yvvtal.

Upon second thought, Micheal realized this wasn’t abnormal. This entire world was a magical construct and these Torens were all ‘NPCs’ or perhaps artificial constructs, not actual living beings. They had probably been specifically created in a way to allow for Yvvtal’s manipulations without error.

“Yes, Instructor!” Micheal nodded stiffly and began to walk past the Instructor, heading towards the other Torens. As he walked, he mentally sighed.

He had failed.

If he had gained enough of Yvvtal’s interest, he wouldn’t be headed to the second part of this test, the ‘Ranking Tournament.’ Instead, he’d have been personally ‘taken in’ as a disciple by the Instructor, and made to go through a series of other tests, including answering many more detailed questions that would dive into his personality.

‘Perhaps my body really looked too weak.’ He couldn’t help the racial disadvantages humans had to bear.

Still, this was about what he had expected.

The Byren that had caught Yvvtal’s eye had a very abnormal Physique, one that allowed him to project his Soul outside of his body in a way that let him keenly sense the energy of reality around him. It worked in such a manner that vastly boosted his ability to comprehend different concepts, and the energies around those concepts, something that heavily drew Yvvtal’s interest.

Micheal’s story was a great one, but his body didn’t have anything overtly unique except for his somewhat strong Soul. Without actual proof of his powers, even if he believed he was speaking the truth, it wouldn’t be enough for Yvvtal.

Micheal took a deep breath as he looked at the various Torens that were standing and waiting. Each and every one gave off a feeling of solid power and natural grace, a sense that they were beings born to be worshipped and to rule. Humanoids destined to become Divine.

“Attention, disciples! The Ranking Tournament will officially begin in a few more moments. Please take this time to ready yourselves!” The four Instructors had finished going through all of the other disciples and returned back over to the waiting groups. The speaker was the heftier Toren, and the original speaker that had greeted the group. None of them had named themselves, forcing Micheal to label them by their body shape.

He’d talked the talk to Yvvtal as best he could.

Now it was time to walk the walk.

‘I can see a bit more than 200 Torens here, all of varying strength…’ He accurately counted out the total number of disciples-to-be that were present as everyone began to move away from this courtyard into another connecting one.

At the center of the neighboring courtyard, Micheal could see a large stone stage that had been set up in a rough square, stretching more than 30 meters across and far.

The group of Toren disciples was a motley collection, some that were only average in strength while there were a few that were overwhelmingly strong. He even recognized the ‘strongest’ disciple present, one that was recorded by those that had taken this challenge in his past.

A lean Toren that had completely shaved his head and wore a brown robe, white leather gloves, and thin, black sandals. The Ascetic Morkel, the elite final enemy that everyone that had taken this challenge had failed to overcome.

‘If I can’t get his attention through normal means, we will go with something a little more extreme.’

In the background, the Instructors explained how the Ranking Tournament worked. This was, ostensibly, to determine who the strongest among this lot of new disciples were, to help organize everyone into the correct classes and instructors they would need to follow to grow stronger.

The tournament would start off by allowing anyone to go up and challenge other Torens to battle. After each fight, the participants would be treated for any injuries and magically restored to full health. The results of each battle would be recorded and marked down, adding up to a tally for each individual.

This tournament was a staple of each new batch of disciples, a tradition that held true even for Byrens in the modern era. It was an introduction into the sect, a competition to encourage rivalries between disciples, as well as a test of bravery and decisiveness.

The Instructors finally finished their explanation after a couple of minutes of going over basic rules, like how one could fight to their heart’s extent and that the Instructors would prevent any deaths from occurring.

The instant they finished talking, and the first moment they declared the Ranking Tournament had begun, Micheal sprinted and threw himself onto the main stone stage, drawing the eyes of everyone present.

“I would like to announce my first challenge, Instructors.”

The group of four older Torens seemed slightly taken aback, something Micheal noted with mild amusement. It wasn’t an unexpected look.

After all, Micheal had just flipped the entire script of how this was supposed to go down.

In all of the recordings of the King’s Challenge, the people taking it had waited and were swiftly challenged right as the Ranking Tournament began. At first, weaker Torens challenged them, but as time went on, stronger and stronger ones came up to fight. This was the progressive difficulty curve, one that was used to gauge what reward the challengees should receive, if any.

“Very well, disciple. Take your choice of anyone here and remember: Cowardice is a crime worthy of death! Fight with all of your heart!” The hefty Toren’s voice boomed out loud as he went with Micheal’s plan, nodding at him gravely.

Micheal was the ‘Main Character’ of this dreamworld. It was only natural for things to follow the route he picked, even if it was an unorthodox one. As long as the challenges still proceeded, everything would still work out.

Micheal turned his gaze away from the Instructors to scan the crowd of Torens, his gaze piercing. After a few moments, his eyes returned to focus back in on the bulky leading Instructor.

“I have found my target, Instructor!” He cupped his hands together.

The Instructor nodded and waved for him to continue,

“Of those present, I, Legion, hereby challenge…” Micheal raised his right hand and then smiled slightly,

“Everyone.”

.

Chapter 15

The sun beat down on Micheal’s forehead, a sheen of sweat coating it as he looked out at the arena around him. The air was surprisingly warm, considering how high they were up on a mountain. His gaze was calm and steady, not betraying even a hint of nervousness.

That fact, alone, was bound to impress given that he was currently surrounded by over 200 superhuman warriors, of which even the weakest had a more powerful body than he did.

After Micheal challenged literally every other disciple, a small hubbub had broken out. Several of the new disciples had thrown a flurry of insults at Micheal, while still others had angrily approached him, fists balled up and ready to throw. It had been a scene on the verge of chaos, just moments from a violent outbreak.

Before things got too out of hand, however, the Instructors forcibly settled things down.

Specifically, when Chief Instructor Borbo, Micheal finally learned the hefty Toren’s name, let out a veritable avalanche of pressure, a pulsing energy Aura that froze everyone in their tracks. Even Micheal was forced to stand still, his eyes widening ever so slightly when he felt it.

That Aura was a strong one indeed. It held enough pressure to give even First Rate Warriors pause and force Second Rate Warriors to freeze up, let alone Micheal whose body was that of a Third Rate Warrior. Not only did it hold the strength of a Sky Tier Ki Cultivator, it was also imbued with the natural power of the Toren Race.

“As long as I, Borbo, am Chief Instructor of the Mullan Sect, none of you are allowed to attack one another without my approval.” The Chief Instructor’s voice was nominally calm, but full of explosive undercurrents as his eyes visibly smoldered. If anyone so much as dared to talk back, it felt like be might even smite that poor fool down, then and there.

No one dared to speak up or reply, all of the Torens staring at Borbo mutely.

The tension of the situation vanished, just like that, as the Instructors reasserted control.

And, as Micheal expected, they accepted his challenge.

Was it realistic of them to allow something like that?

Not really.

This was supposed to be a Ranking Tournament for all of their new disciples, not just Micheal. But, in the end, Micheal was still the ‘Main Character’ of this dreamworld. Everything worked out, regardless of whether or not it logically made sense. The whole point of this place was to challenge Micheal and allow Yvvtal to see the extent of his talents and Physique, to gauge whether or not he would be a good target.

What Micheal asked for still fell within the guidelines of the King’s Challenge. He might be pushing the limits, and definitely toeing the line, but it was still within acceptable bounds.

And thus, here he was now. Standing on a stage that had just been expanded by several dozen meters in all directions, large enough now to accommodate 200+ other warriors.

“Prepare yourself, warriors! The first battle of the Ranking Tournament shall begin on my mark!” Chief Instructor Borbo’s voice boomed out loud as he called out from the sidelines. He and the other instructors had moved off to the four corners of the hastily expanded stage, preparing themselves to stop any fatal injuries, accurately reflecting what would happen in reality.

Micheal took a deep breath and rolled his wrists. One small wooden sword lay loosely in his right hand while his left hand remained free. The blade weighed a good amount, around 50 pounds, made of some type of ultra-durable wood that Micheal didn’t recognize. In his hands, the heavy blade felt light and flexible, his enhanced muscles wielding them with ease.

He adopted a posture that held his sword out to the side and his hand palm open. His shoulders relaxed and he leaned forward ever so slightly, hooking his knees down a few inches. He began to regulate his breathing as his eyes grew slightly unfocused, relying on his powerful Soul and all of his senses combined to sense the world around him.

“Ready!” Borbo’s voice echoed out as he continued,

“3…”

The various Toren warriors tensed up as they glared at Micheal, mindless juvenile anger and irritation painted on their faces.

“2…”

Muscles bulged in the veritable army of powerful warriors as all of the ones set close to Micheal readied themselves to charge into an immediate offensive.

“1…”

The tension between Micheal and the Torens reached a peak, a long pregnant pause forming as everyone froze, prepared to leap into motion.

“FIGHT!”

The Torens attacked.

The closest fighters to Micheal were all ones close to his age or younger. The Instructors had set the field up so that the first warriors to reach him would be in either the ‘Child’ or ‘Half-Grown’ grown stages, a small element of progressive fairness.

However, despite their relative youth, one and all still possessed the bodies of an eventual Deity-Class race.

Thus, Micheal opted to hold back nothing as a trio of male Torens that looked to be around 14 to 16 years old reached him.

“Die!” The first Toren shouted a line Micheal had heard all too many times as the fighter lunged forward with a long wooden spear. The attack was filled with explosive power, a very accurate and trained strike for someone so young.

The second Toren took advantage of that moment to lash out with a heavy broadsword from behind, aimed at Micheal’s back. This attack cut forward quickly and skillfully, with few wasted movements.

The third Toren wielded two large wooden axes. While the other two Torens were attacking from the front and back, he jumped up into the air and lashed down with the hatchets, aimed directly at Micheal’s head.

All three had coated their attacks with Basic Tier Sword Energy.

It was a vicious pincer attack right from the start, aimed at leaving Micheal with no time to plan. For warriors that were so young, they showed ample talent and thoughtful planning.

‘They really aren’t half bad.’ Micheal thought as he took a small step forward and leaned his body ever so slightly to the side. In the same movement, he raised his left hand and reached out towards the ferociously incoming spear.

The next moment, the impossible seemed to happen.

Micheal’s hand latched down onto the head of the spear with a vice-like grip. The head of the weapon was mere inches from piercing through his body when he grabbed ahold of it.

It was common knowledge that Sword Energy was ferociously sharp.

Torens had bodies that were practically divine, even down here on the Second, meaning they could take a hit from Basic Tier Sword Energy head-on and survive handily.

This was energy that could boost the sharpness of a sword such that it could cut into and harm Morenkai. Blocking it with one’s body meant one had either insane courage or insane defensive prowess.

In the case of the Toren Race, it was the latter. In Micheal’s case, however…

It was neither.

A gleam of red light flashed around Micheal’s fingers as he grasped firmly onto the wooden spearhead…

And then shattered it.

He obliterated the Basic Tier Sword Energy and the magical wood in a single motion, using his abnormally fine control of his Advanced Tier Sword Energy to empower his hand itself. Splinters of wood shot out into the air from the destroyed spear, coating the ground beneath Micheal in small wooden shavings as they fluttered down.

Micheal didn’t stop there, however. As soon as he destroyed the spear, he quickly stepped forward, ignoring the shocked expression of the spear-wielder. His unexpected movement brought him directly within range of the first Toren.

This quick advance also brought him just out of range of the broadsword-wielding Toren’s attack.

He then jutted his left elbow forward, his entire body aimed precisely as he targeted a specific point on the teenager’s chest. A loud ‘thud’ echoed out as the blow slammed directly into the Toren.

And half a second later, the Toren collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

The Toren Tribe was famed for their extremely powerful bodies. However, that didn’t mean that they had no weaknesses and were invincible.

Just like humans, Torens had their own unique set of pressure points. These points on a Toren, however, were part of the magical setup of their Physique.

On the face of it, these pressure points weren’t actually weaknesses at all. In fact, they functioned as a solid wall. Each pressure point had the power to magically resonate with the Ki in a Toren’s body, reinforcing any part of their skin that was severely stressed. This fast-acting reinforcement was a large part of why their natural defenses were so famed.

Micheal knew all of this extremely well. In fact, he knew a great deal about every single one of the 12 Tribes of Deities. From minor details about their Physiques to major knowledge about their Titles and techniques, Micheal had a vast store of knowledge when it came to any and all enemies the human race faced.

As a warrior that was constantly trying to catch up to the geniuses that had raced ahead in the First Wave, especially with their multi-year advantage, he had devoted much of his life in the 7 Layers to not only growing more powerful, but also to learning any and everything he could on how to take advantage of his foes.

And from that store of knowledge, Micheal knew a way to use a Toren’s Physique against them.

The moment his elbow made contact with the Toren teenager’s chest, Micheal’s entire arm vibrated for a split second. In that moment, he ran a tiny line of Ki Energy through his arm and, at the very end, exploded forth with a very small amount of Advanced Tier Sword Energy in a wave-like pattern.

The cumulative result was an extremely fine and precise impact. Despite his use of Sword Energy, the blow was not at all sharp. Micheal used the powerful energy to shred the small drop of Ki he sent through his arm, causing it to fracture and explode. The combination of extremely sharp Sword Energy and steady Earth Tier Ki knocked against one of the six ‘Core’ pressure points a Toren had.

This concussive ‘shock’ overloaded the Core pressure point and sent a wave of electrical signals surging in a Toren’s body. For the 14 or 15 year old Toren that had just taken the brunt of that attack, it was like an unstoppable meteor blasting into his brain. He simply wasn’t trained to deal with something like that and was instantly knocked unconscious.

This type of tactic was a lot like hitting a human on the chin, just right, in boxing. If you aimed it correctly, with the proper amount of force, your enemy's body would suffer from an impact that shocked their mind, causing them to collapse.

It was decently effective against weaker Torens. Against stronger Torens at the Lord or King Tier of Ki Cultivation, such a tactic was an exercise in futility. Their bodies were far too powerful, even considering these ‘vulnerable’ spots. As for humanity, given that humans didn't even have a Physique to empower their bodies in the first place, there was little need for Torens to focus on anything other than basic physiology.

Mortal, Earth, and Sky Tier Torens were those among their race had yet to fully experience the significant transition that happened when one reached the Lord Tier of Ki Cultivation. This weakness, in fact, was one of the main reasons they weren’t considered a ‘true’ member of the Tribes of Deities until later on.

And this weakness was something Micheal intended to take full advantage of.

In the same movement Micheal used to attack and take the first Toren down, he also swung his right hand upward, pulling the wooden sword he was using up towards the two wooden axes that were hurtling towards his head.

Instead of blocking them directly, while Micheal was simultaneously elbowing the first Toren, he used his blade to tap on each axe in a rapid-fire motion. Each time he hit one of the weapons, he stabbed into the hatchet with a sliver of Advanced Tier Sword Energy.

On here, instead of exploding a tidbit of Ki, Micheal simply sheared into the axes and destabilized their movements. As a result, the axe-wielding Toren stumbled as both of his blows swung wide.

For a single, split second, the axe-wielding Toren froze up at the unexpected result.

A tiny moment later, he collapsed on the ground face-forward after taking a rapid punch to the chest from Micheal, knocked unconscious just like the first Toren.

The third and final broadsword-wielding Toren had overextended himself on his missed swing. Micheal’s strikes against the first two Torens had finished so quickly that the last attacker had not yet had time to fully recover.

By the time the third Toren did manage to pull back his blade, the last thing he saw was a white hand sailing through the air to collide with his chest, and then a flash of white light and a wave of darkness as he fell to the floor, overwhelmed.

All of this took place in the span of less than two seconds. Three furious attacks, three calm deflections, and three young, fallen Toren warriors, all in a fraction of the time it took to take a single breath.

There was a startled pause from the rest of the young Toren warriors as they saw Micheal basically one-shot the first attackers with incredible ease. This bought Micheal a couple of seconds of respite, enough time to gauge the reactions of those around him.

The younger Torens now seemed much more uncertain, while the older ones seemed more cautious. There were several that looked more excited and exuded hints of bravado, while some that seemed to fade almost to the background as they changed their attack plans.

A veritable army of super-strong attackers stood still for a brief moment, acknowledging Micheal’s strength.

These warriors were by no means weak. They were powerful, stronger than most humans. Their techniques were well trained and even the youngest had a solid martial arts foundation.

But as Micheal looked out among them, his blood began to boil. Memories tugged at his consciousness as a feeling of raw excitement flooded his body, one that was no longer heavily constrained by minuscule physical stats. A type of excitement that he hadn’t felt ever since he came back to the past, emotions that filled his heart to the brim.

It wasn’t just the lure of battle and the draw of the fight.

It was back to challenging competent warriors, heavily trained fighters that outstripped him in strength. Facing down impossible challenges while surrounded by foes, battling against odds where he could rely on only two things.

His determination and his own skill.

The Torens resumed their charge, blocking out his vision as a swarm of mighty enemies blitzed him.

Micheal’s face lit up as his eyes glowed with energy, gazing upon the world around him. The muscles in his arms and legs bulged as he drew out every iota of strength his body had, pulling forth his full potential.

He could see it. Feel it. Sense it.

The flow of battle, dozens of bodies moving in complex patterns, shifting all around him in an ever-changing mire of war. The echoes of combat, the harsh screech of shattered stone, the rippling sensation of exploding energy. The feelings soared through his very Soul itself, a familiar call that had almost become a part of him.

A call of elegant control, of masterful design, of precise destruction…

An army of future Gods charged forth, bloodlust causing the air itself to tremble as the ground beneath them shattered.

And before that army stood a single man.

Alone.

Unbroken.

Defiant.

The world itself seemed to stand still as the Toren warriors crossed the arena, just instants from smashing into Micheal. Their charge cracked the stone floor, sending up shards of shattered stone and coating the air in a grey haze.

Micheal had returned to his original stance. His right hand held his sword off to the side, while his left hand faced outward, palm open. His body relaxed slightly, the tension within it fading as he leaned forward.

In the final moment before the first half dozen Torens reached him…

Micheal began to smile.

And when they finally did reach him...

He began to dance.

.

Chapter 16 “What a monster…” Instructor Borbo’s voice held a hint of shock and sounded so genuine, Micheal might have thought he was a real person, as the Toren looked upon the scene before him.

It was a veritable slaughter.

In the first second of the battle…

Micheal dodged a sword slash thrust towards his head by millimeters while simultaneously leaning just out of range of a smashing kick. In the same movement, he reached out and grabbed the back of the second Toren’s knee all while raising his blade in his other hand.

He twisted the second attacker’s leg in a throwing motion, using the Toren’s momentum against him as he flipped the man forward. In the meanwhile, his wooden sword snaked out and stabbed the first Toren attacker right in the chest, avoiding the man’s sword.

The first Toren immediately collapsed, his sword flying wide, while the second Toren slammed into two other Torens that had been just about to attack Micheal. Before the second Toren could get up, however, a stabbing pain ran through his chest and his eyes rolled up, falling unconscious as Micheal blasted through one of his pressure points.

The two Torens that Micheal had downed with the throw suffered similar fates as they tried to get up, both instantly knocked back down without a chance to resist.

In a single second, already four more enemies had been taken down with incredible ease. To the onrushing Torens, it simply made no sense. Even to the watching Instructor, everything Micheal did defied logic.

He knew, better than anyone else, that Micheal’s body was not comparable in terms of strength to these attacking Torens. Even more so, the defensive prowess of his body was even worse. Torens had skin so tough they could tank hits from Advanced Tier Sword Energy and keep going, while a simple touch of that energy would slice through Micheal like butter.

Lower level Torens had a weak spot, it was true. But that was only in the context of how incredibly tough they were.

If one compared a human wearing a full suit of nearly impenetrable armor with a human that was naked, the human with the set of nearly impenetrable armor would be vastly more powerful.

Was the armor perfect? No, it had a couple of very small holes. But compared to the human without armor, the number of weak spots was vastly smaller. Targeting them was no easy feat.

Add on tons of extra strength, regeneration prowess, and enhanced talent, and that was a good description of the Toren Race.

But despite all of that, Micheal was handing these attacking Torens like they were children.

10 more seconds passed.

The clashes of combat echoed forth, grunts of pain, thuds of weapons off of stone or flesh, cracking stone as powerful beings moved quickly.

In that time, 30 more Toren bodies were added to the pile, all knocked unconscious near the center of the arena.

Every movement Micheal made was full of grace. Instructor Borbo was at his wit’s end as he watched this, unable to reconcile what he was seeing.

Micheal made impossible dodges multiple times a second. He avoided death by the skin of his teeth over and over, causing attacks that seemed sure to hit him miss by a hair. He seemed to swim through the air itself, moving both slowly and quickly at times in fluid movements that could not be stopped.

His movements were a thing of beauty, delicate and strong in different ways. It was truly a dance, but one of death and destruction, guided forth by his seemingly omnipresent hand.

He was unstoppable.

Several times, groups of Toren fighters tried to surround him, attempting to use their overwhelming numbers to take him down in a mad rush. Each time this happened, Micheal would skillfully retreat, sometimes even flipping up through the air as he perfectly slipped through various gaps or creating his own openings with sheer skill. No matter how hard the crowd of Torens tried, they were unable to successfully keep him pinned down.

The Torens might be a powerful race, but they, just like the Byrens, were also a race obsessed with honor and the appearance of honor. The inexperience most of these Torens had when it came to group combat targeting a single skilled foe became very clear as the battle progressed. Some of them even seemed to be waiting almost in turn for Micheal to finish fighting each foe, something that caused Micheal to snort half in amusement, half in appreciation.

As the 40th Toren’s body hit the floor, there was a brief lull in the combat.

Micheal’s breath was cool and relaxed as he took advantage of this lull to take a closer look at the surrounding Torens, analyzing everything around him. He was exerting himself, especially in such a high-level fight, but his body was strong enough that he could hold his own for now.

With his powerful Soul and current capabilities, Micheal could innately sense anyone within 23 meters of him. When he zeroed in on his senses, putting his full focus and attention into the fight, that sensation evolved into one that let him sense his immediate surroundings within battle itself.

Not only could he feel the flow of battle, he also knew exactly where his opponent’s foot would land, he could tell exactly where an axe was going to hit him, where a sword would stab.

Part of this had to do with his vast experience as a Swordmaster and his own battle experience and talent. Micheal had never considered himself a genius in most regards. He was coldly neutral when it came to gauging his own talents.

He knew he was at least somewhat exceptional when it came to training his Sword Mastery, especially as he grew to understand it more and more.

His determination was also definitely exceptional when he compared it to other people, as were a few other quirks of his personality.

However, if there was one thing he knew he did better than almost anyone else, it would have to be in regards to fighting against many foes at once.

Facing a single enemy was a unique challenge in its own right. You had to focus purely on their talents, capabilities, Abilities, and the surroundings as you dueled them. In most situations, the end result of the battle would come about based on your individual capabilities versus theirs.

However, everything was thrown on its head when you fought multiple enemies.

You had to account for their coordination, you had to account for many different levels of Abilities, of tactics, of differing strengths and weaknesses. The entire feel for a duel against many enemies was completely different from that of a duel against a single foe. They were incomparable.

In Micheal’s head, however… a vast battle like this transformed into a simple puzzle in his mind, one that merely needed to be solved, step by step.

A dozen thoughts would flash into his mind every second, each one guided by his instincts built up over the years.

‘If I dodge this attack in this way, I’ll be slightly open here. However, if I use my opponent's strike to shift my body in this way, I can turn that opening into an attack here. Then I’ll lean forward slightly here and use that attack to strike against my next enemy, and then I can create an opening to knock them unconscious there. But then I’ll need to…”

All Micheal needed to do was bring the correct pieces of the puzzle together. Under his guiding hand, each piece fit together snugly, resulting in a masterful, but simplistic, crafting of a complex battle.

He didn’t pursue the appearance of grace or beauty in his battle movements. What he sought after were cold, logical strikes that achieved exactly what he needed. And it was those strikes that, somehow, ended up giving him this graceful and beautiful combat style, the most optimal route when it came to fighting large groups.

The lull in the battle vanished.

The Gods of tomorrow, arrayed in a fighting force that no human could easily match, began their attack anew. The various Toren warriors rushed forward in the dozens fearlessly, letting out blood-curdling battle calls.

And in the dozens they yet fell, conquered by a single man.

Micheal’s enemies were ones he placed at various skill levels. Some of them were well-trained beginners, while others were capable of giving him pause for a second or two, able to respond to his well-placed movements.

None of them, however, were anything close to what he considered an equal.

Still, a feeling of deep, rich enjoyment serenaded Micheal’s Soul as he fought against so many skilled enemies, enjoying this moment through to the very fabric of his existence.

100 Toren bodies hit the floor.

By now, Micheal’s breath had grown ragged. His body was superhumanly strong, but against so many enemies that all held near-divine bodies, even he couldn’t fight forever.

Still, he continued to fight adeptly, pulling out the maximum potential he could from his knowledge and experience.

He never directly blocked any attacks, instead preferring to use his enemy’s power against them, letting them throw their own forces into disarray. He danced between foes, knocking them unconscious with the speed of a slithering snake striking down her enemies.

A few times, some of the Torens had come up with more coordinated assault plans. However, all Micheal needed was a single chink in their planning, a single opening he could take advantage of.

It was after he took down the 122nd Toren that Micheal ran into the first real challenge of the battle.

Each wave of Torens was typically a haphazard rush of warriors. While their attacks came in well-disciplined, it was very clear that few of them had trained to fight in large groups, something Micheal took full advantage of. Only so many Torens could attack him at once, after all.

However, as the numbers were whittled down, one group of Torens rose to the challenge, one that caused Micheal to pause.

There were six Torens, about the maximum that could realistically attack Micheal at once. All of these Torens were of the ‘Grown’ age group, or adult Torens that had full mastery of their body.

These six Torens spread out around Micheal in a close-knit group. Instead of the mad rush that had dominated the last several seconds, these Torens forced those behind them to wait as they stalked forward.

‘Solid coordination.’ Micheal’s breath might be ragged due to strain, but he moved as graceful as he had before, keeping his attention split between all six.

All six of the Torens wielded two sets of swords, one in each hand. All of them were hunched slightly forward in a wide stance, their knees bent and their arms slightly raised. Their blades were held at perfectly equal heights and turned a little outward. Micheal’s eyes narrowed slightly when he saw this.

Among the Toren Race, there were three official ‘Schools’ of Swordsmanship that had earned themselves a certain level of prestige. The Fast Shadow Sword, the Sword Style of the Sun and Moon, and the Wavering Blade Style.

These six Torens had adopted the first stance of the Sword Style of the Sun and Moon, Rending Earth.

Micheal had always been a proponent of mixing up various techniques and styles in many different ways. He had never named his own style of swordcraft, because it wasn’t an individual style on its own. It combined hundreds of techniques and was ever-changing, adapting to any situation using his own mind.

This style of fighting was not the norm. Very few people could do what Micheal did, adapting to every battle in his own way, combining the study of thousands of different techniques and movements altogether in an instant, without hesitation.

Instead, most martial artists fought by studying a set number of techniques over and over, and incorporating them not only into their muscle memory but also into their mind. They then fell back on these techniques during battle, relying upon them to help counter their enemy and lead them to victory.

Not all warriors fought like that, but in general, a small number of techniques that a fighter practiced over and over were the bedrock of most warriors' fighting styles.

This particular stance was one built on stability, able to overcome a number of threats and react to them quickly. It would be tough to break through directly, especially when approached by six users of it. It was a solid defensive stance.

However, when Micheal saw this, the small smile on his face grew slightly wider. A feeling of anticipation filled his bones, his eyes alighting.

‘Excellent!’ This was exactly what he had been waiting for.

Micheal watched as the group steadily approached. The Torens moved step by step, keeping their full, undivided attention on Micheal. Their cautious movements gave Micheal a couple of seconds to catch his breath, something he had no intention of turning down.

Just moments before they reached him, Micheal let out a small ‘ah,’ an exclamation, as if he had just undergone a moment of inspiration.

A moment later…

He adopted the exact same stance, identical in every fashion.

.