Hikma fell asleep inside his room in the Black Mercy.

After an evening of reading books, Hikma finally fell by the page of an ancient saga. His consciousness faded after absorbing the prelude to the foundation of a legendary dynasty on the moon of Saturn. It was a fable inherited throughout the generation before being recorded in a small book sold to a young enthusiast. Years later, after many transactions, the text finally discovered its home.

It was the sleep the would forever change the face of magical combat.

…

Hikma De Darwin found himself in the middle of a grey desert. He didn’t know how long he stood there. It was like a cut from a movie. One moment there was nothing, and now he was witnessing the brutal brawn between two men.

The two men look similar. So similar they could be brothers. The men were exchanging punches and kicks. Finally, one brother emerged as a victor. He held himself up and yelled toward the sky. But the dynasty wouldn’t be created by him.

Hikma knew how it ended. He read it.

The fallen brother grabbed his sibling by the foot and bit into his ankle. Enraged, the victorious man stomp on the face of his brothers. Neither of them noticed the change in the air, the warping of air and space. Suddenly, the cosmic force unleashed, repulsing the two brothers into the sky. As if mandated by the heaven, rock and dirt flew against gravity, slamming into the bickering men and encasing them inside a prison of earth.

In the end, Hikma found himself staring at the moon.

It was the punishment for the bickering brothers who became the moon-- a foundation for worthier men.

The moral of the story: be a dick, and you will lose everything.

‘Remember, Hikma.’

Hikma’s heart leaped out of his chest. He spun to see a woman in white standing beside him. Hikma instantly knew who she was. Rem and Cytortia talked about her many times, and their description was always the same.

“Satholia.”

'Remember this feeling,' she commanded. 'This sentiment is how the Astral Consciousness recorded an event. Often times, realities are the sums of memories. And with the right catalyst, any memory can be recalled.'

A light flashed, signifying the dawning of time. Behind Satholia, multiple circlets of light materialized. Hikma couldn’t say the word. He knew those seals better than anything. It was a power that symbolized his worthlessness--totally useless in combat and barely helpful in enchanting.

In some way, it was the very symbolization of him.

[Conceptual Seal]

“Hikma, you are the only one who can stop the summoning of a Primordial,” Satholia waved her hand, and one of the seals glowed like stars. “You must master the true potential of these diamonds in the rough. You must master the secret of the Arcane.”

Satholia tapped him in the head.

“Now,” She whispered. “Wake.”

…

As the capital of the Grand Empire, Venistalis stood tall as its beacon. An earthen color metropolis that shone like gold in the dawn. Its circular outer wall piled tall above even the highest of the four Mage Tower. At the center, the golden royal palace towered over all the city quarters like an invincible guardian. Rising high from above the ground, at the height of 1.45-Kilometer-tall and 3-Kilometer-wide in diameter, the royal palace was a multistories city in itself that housed the royal families and their nobles. It was a megastructure only made possible by the combination of Phantasia’s super-material and magical reinforcement. Four ramparts at South, North, East, and West stretched from palace to the wall, separating the city into four quarters of Fire, Water, Earth, and Wind.

Out of these four-quarters, Rem chose the Wind to hold his meeting. While the Earth-quarter, being the center of housing and shops, would make a perfect place to blende the meeting out of suspicion because of its population and traffic. Rem decided to forego the obvious option and chose something less obvious. A quarter used for storage and manufacturing would fit his criteria for a secret meeting location, especially if the meeting took place in the middle of the night.

Rem, sporting a dark hood, a black jacket, pants, and his white mask, waited with paranoia. He waited for thirty-minutes in the shadow. Did Marley crack the code he gave him?

That was when a man arrived with a cracked in space.

Marley looked around annoyingly before reciting a Haiku.

‘Beneath the moon, I waited.

At the Might of Sky, we meet.

Where City’s Blood laid.’

Marley groaned.

“Is it too much to say you want to meet at the Wind-quarter’s water storage tank beneath the moon?” Marley said. “You sent me a poem for god sake.”

Rem stepped out from the shadow.

“The Grand Empire would want our head on the pike if they know who we are and what we are planning,” Rem said. “We are right in the middle of our worst enemy stronghold, using a cryptic wording is a no brainer. To be honest, I believe the code is too easy.”

“Kid, that code is too easy for anyone, but the Seven Continental Alliance,” Marley said. “The Alliance never intercept your code. If they do, they would already fortify the central bank in the Water-quarter.”

Rem bit back his retort. He felt insulted. First, Albert Starling’s unwarranted arrogance and now this? What type of ignorance led to someone prioritizing banking above water? Sure, a financial collapse might be disastrous, but people would survive. Without water, it would be mass panic in a day and riot on the next.

“What brings you here?” Marley asked. “Where is Scathach hiding anyway?”

“I need to know if there is anything weird going on this last few months,” Rem said. “I know you won’t come here alone. Come on, introduce me to your redundancies. I guess there is a long-range attacker with me on his scope on either three or six-o’clock. I will give you some credit and say he can do a hard shot from three. Am I right? ”

Silence.

Scathach flickered onto the tank in a mist of shadow. Meanwhile, a grappling hook hit the railing as a young woman in her twenty arrive. Both of them looked annoyed.

“You always too smart for your good, Marley,” Scathach said.

“Sorry, boss,” said the woman. “He spots me.”

Marley nodded. He didn’t feel a flicker of anger toward his subordinate. She didn’t commit any mistake. Rem was just too paranoid.

“Yes, she is at three o’clock. How do you work it out?”

“I know you know I will bring Scathach. Her skills rule out all the mid-range and melee leverage you have. There are only two sniping spots with a line of sight to get me before her intervention: right at my back or three o’clock clockwise. The back is too predictable. That left the next best option: three o’clock.”

“Glad to see you are as fast as ever, kid,” Marley sighed. “You know, under another circumstance, I think you will make an excellent right-hand.” Marley turned serious. “Let get to business. What is happening?”

“I guess something is happening,” Rem said. “Come on, say it.”

“Don’t play dumb, kid,” Marley said. “Shuang Tianshang completely lost control of the X-cution. Tai Hua lost her unstoppable momentum. Frisnia is in utter chaos. The Royal Consort is whipping her factions to the frenzy after Lord Migras fell into a coma.”

That one shocked Scathach.

“Migras is in a coma!?” The badger was horrified. “Shit!”

“He is important?” Rem said.

“Kid, Migras is the Frisnia’s emperor closest and sanest advisor. His influence and popularity kept the backstabbers in court in check. If he went down without any replacement, then it would only be up to an emperor in his hundred-eighty with one foot in the grave to keep things together.”

“Sir, he was afoot in the grave,” Marley’s subordinate spoke up. “The emperor is dead. Migras’ incapacitation forced every able-body in the court to take sides. The royal guards decided to switch and allowed the emperor to get assassinated.”

“Thank you, Sasha,” Marley commented with a sour face. “I have never seen this mess before. The royal families are murdering each other for the throne. And the only person with enough clout to keep the order is the Royal Consort.”

“Good luck with that when she is on the warpath,” Scathach said. “Shit, this left only the adolescence queen of Centurion can keep the Tengen Continent together.”

Rem must admit the situation wasn’t looking good.

“So why aren’t Tai Hua attacking,” Rem spoke up. “She could exploit the chaos, right?”

“She couldn’t,” Marley hesitated to say the next part. “Her army is meeting a food shortage problem after the setback. The area she controls also suffered a political upheaval and abuse of power. Many ministers she appointed is..."

“Terrible for the job,” Rem finished for him. “Her military merit system is good and all, but appointing someone with little or no experience is the recipe to get cheated. Plus, allowing a criminal protect by meritocracy to run around without any lawful restriction is sure going to lead to pretty intense power abuse.”

Marley, Scathach, and Sasha suddenly realized something about Rem’s inherent sadism.

“You knew this would happen to Starland,” Scathach accused. “You know Tai Hua would screw up from the start.”

“How did you see this far?” Marley said. “The entire continent, no, the entire Phantasia even, fully believe Tai Hua will roll the continent with no hiccup.”

Rem let out a snort of disdain.

“The reason you guys can't see the weakness that sits in front of you because you are fixating on strength,” Rem sounded furious. “You care so much ability to blew up a planet that you ignore something significantly more powerful! You forget about the people!”

Scathach was surprised by Rem’s outburst. It was a side of Rem she never saw. Most of the time, Rem kept to himself and only shared his thought when he had too. Contrary to the expectation, Rem was a closet worrywart. He considered the worse possibility of the situation and tended to snap when he had to sit in a high-risk waiting game for with no countermeasure. It was an anxiety disorder with a mix of paranoia. Most of the time, such complex made him an incredible planner, but when the pressure get too high, he snapped.

Finally, the combination of fear, anticipation, and guilt that he might accidentally give away a world domination plan to a psychopath cracked his Rem's facade and revealed a repressed entity.

“You guys are all idiots!” REM yelled. “I pity your ancestors for wasting their fucking DNA on you! Don’t you get it! That bitch is overextending her reaches for months. Did she ever stop to consolidate her power? Did she ever reflect? God no! No power in the world can magic out foods! Meritocracy? Really? Are you guys seriously buying that shit!? A warmonger is never a good stateman! When that little girl asked everyone to join her puny army, did she ever ask herself who would be farming when everyone beat the plow shed into a sword? Yeah, follow the bandwagon. Suck you, bitch. Good luck when all the employer flees your area. How is your burning economy doing, assholes!?”

“Kid,” Marley backed away. The killing intense was so immense Sasha hid behind him and shivered. “Calm down. You are-“

“Don’t calm down me, Marley,” REM glared at him. “You should have stopped Tai Hua before this happened. Don’t you get it? The Tengen continent is toasted. We lost an entire continent! And that happens because you guys are so power-hungry you don’t learn basic economics. Oh, trust me, Enma and Aurorin needed to go. But news flash, killing them won’t fix things. They control the trade, buddy. Took them down, and the ensuing chaos will make you wish you are dead! People won’t get oppressed. They will be starving! And good luck dealing with the crime rate!"

“Rem, please-“

“Shush, Scathach,” REM looked at her with the brutal power of Center Force. “As the top dog of this continent, the blame for all these debacles rests squarely on the gods' shoulder. Let ask an important question here. Do you know how to lead?”

Scathach withered under her glare. She knew the aura. Rem was funneling the Center Force and all her bravado worth zero before Satholia's glare.

“You lead by example,” Rem’s words were malicious. “And what example do you give? An example of the queen of heaven who failed so badly she let those donkeys into the world to make mass graves? An example of an incompetent beauty goddess who learns no fucking thing? An impotent fucking pantheon of disappointment.”

Scathach decided she shouldn’t put Rem under any more stress.

REM struggled with his emotions. He breathed in and out until he calmed down.

He turned toward the scare trio.

“Now, that I get this out of my system,” Rem said. “Let me continued.”

…

Hikma wasn’t fighting Luxinna this match. No, that would be too easy, tonight he needed to fight against someone with a different style.

“You are slow!”

Melody threw a tree in his direction. To most people, STR values were only to show, but that wasn’t Melody. Her raw physical strength was for real. If the top of E-Rank represents peak human condition, then Melody easily decupled that raw power. She hurled boulder, logs, and heavy objects like it were nothing.

Melody was loving the development. The [Dragon Manifestation] was much stronger than the Cultivation art she practiced. While some parts of her still regret that her [Demonic Blood Cultivation] and [Sky Dragon Bloodline] faded when she gained this power, the trade was more than worth it.

Most techniques only boosted her strength by a fraction. The highest-level spells only increased the stat by a fixed level. [Dragon Manifestation] was a lot more than that. It doubled her STR and END stats regardless of rank or level. In her dragon-mode, Melody's strength passed the realm of A-rank, throwing a five-tones object wouldn’t be hard for her.

Lately, Hikma became adept at dealing with a sword blow, but his raw stat was at best in its measly D-rank. He had no way in hell to bat away a projectile weight a ton.

Hikma dropped flat into the ground as a tree smashed into smithereens behind him. He was out of option. He needed a way to stop the projectile.

As Melody heaved up another tree, a particular memory from his dream resurfaced. Something inside Hikma shifted. A plane of a night sky. The fight between the two brothers. The waves of gravity undulating time and space. The bending of the attraction between masses of matters. The majestic creeping movement of it all. The rage of the brothers encased in the judgment of stars.

Slowly, like a cat experimenting with a pool of yarn, Hikma channeled the memory through him. He was so distracted by this feeling he forgot to dodge.

Luxinna, who spectated the training, was about to intervene when the massive tree deviated off course, flying upward as if an invisible hand lifted it away.

Hikma’s eyes blurred as he fainted from exhaustion. Meanwhile, Melody collapsed from a sudden migraine.

“What the hell is that?” Luxinna whispered.