The soothing tea worked wonders, erasing the metallic aftertaste of well-aged blood as it slowly trickled down the landlord’s ancient gullet.

With eyes closed and surrounded by quiet, a familiar sense of calm spread from deep within. It made the suffocating silence barely bearable for the seer. An emotional and spiritual refuge for him, this imaginative world.

Mikaantyar’s stumpy, twitching wings on his upper lip bemoaned a sad reality. Besides his own perception, he had no control over anything else. And even that required the help of drugs, most of the time.

At least he felt good now; he’d got company after all. Two newcomers, an all-time record. “Uuhhh~...” The downside was the absence of a beloved rocker whose wreckage lay inconsolable in a corner.

Despite the passing of time, the old friend did not appear to be on the road to recovery. Not on its own. Mikaantyar sighed as he had done so often in the last few hours, pumping out a bit more energy that wasn’t just a smokescreen to frighten the latecomers.

In order to heal the wooden wounds completely, he needed premium merchandise, which he sorely lacked. A steady flow of energy would help twist reality and the rocker might become one someday.

‘I wonder how long it takes this time...’ The noise he made was accompanied by a miniature window-like hole emerging and remaining open long enough for a tiny squirrel to bolt through.

The fourth breathing addition to the room gracefully somersaulted five times, using its inertia to dart across the room, disrupting a game of tag and crushing a mock fight outright.

From one side to the other, it flew. Ultimately, the furry creature landed on the table displaying a cheesy victory pose like a devilish performer awaiting applause from the angry crowd.

Following its audience’s incapability to applaud, the cute pink furball immediately proceeded to lick its prized fur and examine it for any possible blemishes.

Having finished grooming, the vivacious animal sat on its hind legs and pulled faces at the young man sitting in his seat unmoving like an idiot frozen in time. Despite trying so hard to garner attention, the squirrel received no responses to its actions, nobody cared even slightly about what it planned to do. As a result, the squirrel quickly became bored.

At the same time, participants of the ongoing tournament took a timely break to swagger their athletic handles towards the weeping colleague.

Out of sight, out of mind. The group then diligently set about cleaning up the messy splinters and countless plumes, attempting to restore what had once been haughty and glorious.

Midway through the project, a messy tangle of yarn and pins met the dedicated workers, providing expert advice and an infusion of passionate energy.

Uncle shovel even temporarily abandoned his watch over the naughty kids to help shovel heap after heap of materials to those who had the expertise to handle them.

The pink furball soon grabbed an unlucky nut and proceeded to torture it with gusto. Seer Mikaantyar grinned lovingly and let it be, merely suggesting the naughty squirrel better follow certain rules it conveniently seemed to often forget.

“Don’t raven all nuts. I’d like for some to remain.” As the minutes passed and his well-intended warning fell on deaf ears, his tone and expression changed noticeably. “Rascal, if I are to find too few nuts you will be driven out the window again. By the broom.”

This sentence sent the lazy broom arduously growing thick, rusty iron spikes and making its brushwood into glowing snakes that eyed their prey with menacing eyes, ready to comply.

Yet it was never called to action. “Czzk, ziggrigg?!” “…that terrible? According to my observation, the pup only ran away out of fear--no sufficient reason to claim emotional damages.”

“Kkzzg. Okzg, zzigggkkk!!” “I should have guessed you wouldn’t sit still if a cheapskate you crossed half of the Forbidden Realm to meet dripped spittle down your distinguished face.

Do I need to add that chasing him that far off the opposite, deadly path required my immediate intervention, which makes your already terrible character look even more awful? As usual, I had to clean up your mess!

Again. In what way do you remind me you are about thirty-seven times the pup’s age??” “Kkkkkkkzzzzzkkkkkggg!!” “...your anger is no excuse for shredding the innocent bowl.

See, the gloomy carnassial thinks so too. Moreover, to claim that this small dent in your ego, which one would need a quadrilloniscope to discover, is sufficient to trigger your foul tooth, is hogwash.”

Seer Mikaantyar then remembered something he’d put off for a long time now and huffed in frustration. “Ah, forget that darn tooth-marked bowl, bring me the shaking leaf adjacent to it instead.

You scared the living daylights out of our small torpid beauty. Sure you’re no sadist?” “…czzzkkk…” “Hm? You claim to have forgotten to rein in your presence? That’s so just like you.”

Flustered, the squirrel gave the snake a good smack with its tail–––hurling it into the air, where it was caught halfway by an exasperated Mikaantyar–––before it returned to gnaw on three nuts simultaneously, making its cheek pouch swell cutely.

He watched the puffed out cheeks and his warm smile overshadowed the earlier disastrous backlash for good measure. “Do excuse that unruly, spoiled brat.

Well, it’s mostly my merit, but I assure you that when Shelia doesn’t play punk, she’s a good girl. Mostly. But that happens less and less…”

The seer trailed off, staring at something only he could see before finally concluding, “has to do with late puberty.” A nut was hurled his way, the force behind enough to shatter mountains.

Upon reaching the seer, the missile simply faded out of existence. Mikaantyar ignored this episode completely, thought for a while, twiddled his stumpy wings, then chuckled softly.

“Still hungry?” He asked, glaring at the naughty creature receiving resounding slaps on its equally pink buttocks by an enraged nut bowl’s adamantine languet.

In fact, he didn’t even see it below him to cheer it on like a young fan would his superhero. Then he turned his attention to the shaky snake again.

“Stupid question of mine, right? After recently hatching somewhere that dangerous and meeting a psycho,” he added pensively, turning his head once again towards the pleasing scene on the table. An angry rug had come as backup.

“Can’t tell if you’re lucky or the extreme opposite, really. Here, it’s on the house. But only this time. If you want more, you have to pay just like everybody else.”

Mikaantyar closed his shrivelled hands. By the time he opened them again, a couple dozen sausages were hanging from them. “Archdragon sausages.

Even that cheapskate didn’t get them. I wonder what face he would make if he knew that kingly meal and whatnot I had in stock was of the lowest grade.”

Mikaantyar’s heart still bled over the painful loss. However, he consoled himself with the thought that somebody far more worthy would get the sausages instead of a psychotic tramp chosen by that sadistic piece of shit.

But even that unwelcome memory was powerless in the face of his warm, ethereal smile. Due to his unintentionally revealed well-meaning display of grandfatherly love, he just changed the future and rewrote the script. Many would come to pay dearly for that.

With its belly full, the expression of goodwill, closeness and affection was burned in the snake’s memory, forever to remain. “I can tell… you look highly upon the pup.”

Mikaantyar added, not entirely sure if omitting some trivial things and adding spicier stuff that wasn't part of normal due diligence was the right decision.

After all, he knew a lot more than he let on. It was one thing to know, another to be prohibited from conveying his pearls of wisdom, and lack of time the real crux of the issue.

Not for the lack of trying, but there were simply no holes for misuse in the oaths. The hut, his prison… the old seer sighed profoundly.

Until recently, that is. Then, like a lightning strike on a sunny day, an idea came to him like a lifebelt to a drowning man; devious, ingenious, perhaps without equal as far as he was concerned.

A truly dangerous chuckle escaped his throat for the first time in millennia. As a wisp of former glory flashed before his turbid eyes, the ancient man felt his blood rush through dry veins, an immense force of will awaken, and his power increase.

It was all momentary, but he didn’t care at all. Maybe the snake was the key? A variable in the grand scheme of things he could influence subtly without breaking any troublesome oaths?

The old man’s hands caressed the baby reptile’s head even fonder, as his mind entered deeper into an underdeveloped yet budding world of instinct and chaos so full of unrealised potential, ready to leave behind a gargantuan present.

He held his only hope in place with shackles, then a divine seal was applied, which could be broken only once certain requirements were met.

Last but not least, another round of ingenious concealments made his intervention even more unlikely to be discovered. Forbidden from speaking, as well as doing anything out of the ordinary to the Children of the Stars, that he was…

Yet no clause in his accursed contract, in the numerous oaths he’d been forced to utter, stipulated clearly that he was to refrain from meddling with the barbarous lot’s eventual companions.

For now, this loophole had barely any impact, but in the distant future, it would be quite another story! One, he put all his hopes on. By the time the reptile grew up and broke its bloodline shackles, the seal would do the same and today’s matters would surely reach the grown-up pup’s ears.

Moreover, doing things in that way would take care of another pressing issue as well! Truth be told, Mikaantyar feared our protagonist’s speedily descent into madness with that highly volatile type of energy as his foundation.

He had also kept an eye on Linlin since he emerged from the smouldering pit, which only served to deepen his concerns. Yet no amount of fear or hope could change the fact his hands were truly tied.

As a mass murderer, renowned assassin, or simply the easily forgotten fool gone bonkers, he had seen an awful lot of cretins over the years. Yet all he could do was take note, grin foolishly, and let destiny take its wretched course.

In the end, it was up to Linlin to decide if he would choose the challenging road to greatness. Or, he could take its alluring twin, the quick road to hell and oblivion.

Once again, Mikaantyar clearly recognised his dangerous potential; there was a substantial probability Linlin would transform into Destroyer Incarnate, a mindless monster whipped on by the love for annihilation and devastation.

Yet the alternative also had a non-zero chance of succeeding. It was only a matter of time for the snake’s cultivation to reach the threshold if it kept following the tormented man, as long as his sanity was intact, he cared for it, was not greedy with the resources, and viewed it as a precious companion rather than a disposable tool.

The longer Seer Mikaantyar thought about it, the wider his grin became. Suddenly, an eerie breeze swept through the hut, causing a foul wind heavy with resentment to blow against Mikaantyar’s face, furious yet powerless at his unilateral intervention.

“That’s not how life works. You cannot control everything, System.” It was really a beautiful day.

Gradually, calm returned to the room, the tempest over, half the nuts eaten, and so many fingers twiddled that the seer’s hands were hopelessly entangled. Mikaantyar tapped his temple, his pondering face strained and rather rigid from the permanent frown he suffered from.

The reason? Linlin still roamed the Illusory Library. Nothing to actually worry about–––normally, that is. But what could be considered normal when it came to our protagonist?

Normal circumstances would not permit a time-lapse between the pre and post rite of inheritance, or in the seer’s own words, the visit to the library.

His residence occupied an overly chaotic plane of existence where natural laws were at best twisted, at a minimum flawed, or simply matters of the dusty past. As a result, time was not an accurate ally.

Regardless, staying over yonder longer than a kettle takes to boil elsewhere was not exactly conducive to the soul. And most importantly, it also ate away at the restrictive time limit he might have forgotten to properly hammer home.

It wasn’t entirely the seer’s fault, to be honest, since no Child of the Stars had ever shown interest in enduring that long. They were all too arrogant, too self-important once they understood he had no power at all.

Few, if any, took him and his words seriously. Some had even been so paranoid as to refuse the trip to the Illusory Library. Mikaantyar chuckled, remembering their ill fate. They didn’t last long.

Linlin failed to return. After minutes passed, no changes occurred. Another very curious streak. However, this was of scant consolation to the prisoner.

Soon, it would be one full day since Linlin arrived at the Forbidden Realm. Soon, nothing in the universe had the power to save him from a fate similar to the seer’s own.

As if to mock Mikaantya’s endless worries, the pet snake leaned its head toward the table and scurried across in a hurry, a smile adorning its reptilian jaw as far as its overly serpentine features permitted interpretation.

“Uurgh...” A short time later, its companion’s body began shaking, starting with the fingertips, moving to the feet, torso and finally the head.

Bang!

Linlin unconsciously knocked a heavy fruit bowl off the table, causing both his head and the bowl to furiously complain. Yet that wasn’t all there was to his blunder.

Yes, the pain made sleep disappear, but sharpened reflexes kicked in as well. His body rose without the need of proper command, tense and ready to fight.

Even so, what should’ve protected him in case of a sudden ambush–––something that occurred so often both on the drill grounds and in our protagonist’s everyday life that it wasn’t even funny–––was but an unwanted marriage between a flawed idea and a pain in the neck.

Linlin’s head hit the roof while his left shin remained painfully tangled up with the table bars, calling for another couple of bruises and the table’s unhappy humming.

“Wide awake, pup? As is the rest of us, if we ever closed an eye,” snorted Mikaantyar while hardly reining in his creepy laughter. In spite of this, the person addressed was not nearly ready to listen to the old seer, for Linlin found himself wondering how one could hit the head on the vast universe above.

Seer Mikaantyar laughed nastily as if amused by the bad joke. “I failed to tell you that we actually have a ceiling here, didn’t I? Well… my bad. Why else would I call this place a prison, dear pup?”

His smile widened, totally unconcerned by the evil eye his ramblings had earned him. Mikaantyar also remained unaware that he failed to mention any prison to Linlin out of fear of breaching his oath.

Missing Existential Fragment Found Warning! Warning! Warning! System Auto-Upgrade to new Version in: 3 2 1 Begin Merger…............... Task Completed Integrity Check…......................... Task Completed Upgrade to Version 1 Successful!

“This unmatched feeling of anxiety sizing your body is quite a nasty experience, isn’t it? Don’t worry, it’s the same for everyone experiencing separation of body and soul for the first time. It will get easier.”

The upgrade slid by virtually unnoticed, and Linlin chose to keep it that way. As he felt funny, our protagonist rubbed his bump without saying a word and glanced down at his injured shin. “Ahh, don’t give me the cold shoulder.

Not again! I assure you I’ve seen it all. Hopeless screams, nerve-wracking nagging, mental breakdowns, really unpleasant stains all over my lovely–”

Mikaantyar had not finished his impressive recollection by the time Linlin fell on one knee and... the bowl of nuts that’d had the misfortune to shift to where he was bending over degraded soon as a container for fermented compote.

System Version 1 Is Henceforth At Your Disposal

“Thank you very much for your very generous gift. Still, I’ll likely do fine without this… excellent soup.” Mikaantyar’s twitching face showed a smile that was far from genuine as he gazed wearily at the nuts floating in the greenish-yellow broth. “Shelia, you nut-lover, this bowl is on the house!”

“Cccccrrrrrrzztttttttzzzzzzzttttt!!”

Linlin’s ears rung from a fusillade of bitter screeches coming from another corner he actually did understand the gist of. Somewhat. Yet why did that small thing remind him of a nightmare…?

The answer seemed to be so close. And literally at that. “Boy, boy... that hurt. So be it, you ungrateful critter. Let these old bones have a try at the washing trough. But later.”

And after another troubled peek he added gingerly: “much, much later.” Meanwhile, the baby snake had meandered over the table leg and was gently rubbing its head against the young man’s cheek.

Linlin was unsure what to do with it, so he couldn’t help but cast a glance at the self-proclaimed seer, whose cheeky grin returned as he came to his rescue.

“In human terms, Sweety is a newborn. Four, maybe ten days old.” Mikaantyar’s eyes held some sort of… encouragement in them?

Thus, Linlin now knew even less what to do, and bewilderment emanated from his abyssal black eyes due to his overworked brain. “…as an analogy,” the seer cursed under his breath as he worded his phrases much plainer, “can you remember your parents after more or less a week in their sweet embrace? I have my doubts.”

A second strange glance was directed at the needy snake showing tender affection. He wasn’t even remotely certain what kind of attitude would be appropriate in such a situation.

In addition, due to his paranoia, his body tensed up as if he had encountered a mighty enemy just as the seer mentioned a sweet keyword: Family.

And his parents as a model? Something told him the seer didn’t want him to take a page out of their nefarious books. Not one bit. Then, which idea remained?

To kill? That didn’t seem right for whatever reason. Ignoring like one would painful punishment? He couldn’t relate his current situation to that feeling in any way.

To speak? Would the snake even understand formal speech? What else was there to choose from? He didn’t know. “Gods above and Devils below! A cuddle here, a ruffle there, if a kiss turns out to be beyond you.

What is your problem? Enlighten me!” ‘Of all lifeforms out there, why has it to be you playing nanny to an apex predator…’ Mikaantyar’s face was etched for a moment with an expression of deep concern for the universe’s bleak future.

‘Forget it, that’s not my problem. I highly doubt anyone knows of my involvement other than the System. And that one’s lips are shut tight.’

Linlin picked up the snake hesitantly and ran his sweating palm down its back, as if he were picking up nitro-glycerine rather than a baby snake, a choice that rewarded him with happy squeals.

“As you can see, it’s far from difficult.” “…” “…?” The old seer shook his head in vexation once he’d read our protagonist’s twisted thoughts, deciding to no longer bother with the duo’s affairs for fear of his deteriorating health.

“What now?” Linlin inquired after some pet time. “Up to you? Bye-bye~” “?” “That clueless face… you’re scramming away of course, what else?” “…ks?” Linlin mumbled, blushing. “Weeell?

Was that a word of–” “thanks,” our protagonist blurted out at long last, his stiff, apathetic facial features lost to awkwardness incarnate, and a cute blush totally out of place.

Never before had this magical word come from his heart like now, nor had it ever been so difficult to utter. The truth was certainly mind-bogglingly heavy.

“…let me give you one last piece of advice, pup,” the carpet below started to undulate dangerously and the four walls vibrated in unison, “work on your social skills. Few people are adept at reading minds, and those who are spell danger. Shoo,” and gone were both.

After Seer Mikaantyar’s sweeping motion, they fell through the gaping hole that once upon a time colourful carpets had brilliantly covered.

End of Part II