The death of a transcendent is rarer than the rise of one. Beings who reach the pinnacle remain functionally immortal, with many losing the need for sustenance, sleep, and other factors which are usually essential for life to prosper. However, deeper studies show that the mind of a transcendent is not as resilient as their bodies. After a certain point, many decay and eventually wish for an all-encompassing end to their existence or go insane. Some theorize that this is due to every living being's subconscious instinct of returning to an inorganic state. The first Idil Emperor was a battle-crazed transcendent who established the dominant superpower during a tumultuous era, and after three centuries, committed suicide by engaging in a final battle against Dracule Rose. Many accounts state that the man grew increasingly desperate and gradually lost his sanity after handing the throne to the second Emperor, to which his son responded by saying 'he had done all there was to do. '

~ An End to the Strong, by Qually Weeder

"Mark, headed to the Eldenshot tunnel? The blockage there's only been getting worse."

The bald dwarf wore the signature brown leather suit, with a multitude of tools hooked to the belt on his hip. Mark glanced at the other dwarf, who opened the gate leading into the tunnels below the city.

"Yeah, Boss. I'm on it. How're the kids?"

"Good, good. Gunther made it to Arber's Academy. Got the letter this morning " 'Boss' puffed up his chest, proudly mentioning his son's achievement as he fiddled with the lock on the metal grates. Mark's feet were already dipped into the murky sewer water, slowly zipping his hood up to his neck.

"Really?! What an absolute mad lad! He's got a bright future ahead of him, doesn't he? Congratulations."

The conversation continued, with none of the dwarves noticing the subtle ripples forming on the water headed towards the entrance. Going further ahead, it slipped away deeper into the tunnels without any suspicions being cast.

'It's just water. Chunky, gross, not drinkable water.' Chester thought to himself quietly. He kept up his Invisibility spell, knowing that there was a good chance of encountering other sewer workers when inside the underground tunnels.

It was dank, humid, and left the human feeling as though he needed a long shower. He tried to put off the fact that he was wading in bodily fluids and various other unpleasant substances, doing his best to remind himself about the reward at the end of all his hardships.

'A massive stash of Attainium. Think of all the things I can do with it!"

Chester's self-imposed brainwashing techniques worked, and he pushed forward with less hesitation than before. The main tunnel had several signs along with decent lighting, but he quickly noted how dark the branching paths were. Looking up at the signs, he tried to remember the notable streets which were on the way to the palace.

"This one was definitely on the way." He turned just to make sure nobody was around, before casting Improved Minor Illusion just above the surface of the water. A dome of light provided enough illumination for him to see as he navigated through the most disgusting labyrinth ever designed.

The tunnel he explored didn't have any workers inside, and he did his best to distinguish any noises that were coming his way. Trekking through hundreds of meters of sewer waste, he used the markers along the sewer grates above to tell if he was going the correct way. Occasionally he cursed upon realizing he went the wrong way, but it didn't occur often. The illusionist had taken large efforts to realize major streets and intersections along the shortest route from the sewer facility to the palace.

"Duliani Avenue...? Shit! That's where the residential district is."

But his memory wasn't infallible. Another obstacle along his path was a blocked entrance. Similar to the entrance where the dwarves were conversing, it was sealed off under lock and key. It didn't pose any problems to the master criminal, using the Attainium and molding itself to fit perfectly inside of the simple lock. He didn't even need to use his lock-picking skills when he had the ultimate magic metal to do it for him.

"There's probably a bathhouse somewhere here, right? Hopefully, it's open by the time I get out of here..."

As he traversed down the dark, murky, water, something began to bubble up along the surface. Chester took the initiative and transformed the iridescent metal in his hand into a trident, stabbing into the water where the bubbles were forming.

He felt a slight resistance, and for a moment he thought that he had overreacted and stabbed a dense chunk of feces or some other garbage, but panicked when a slimy, green, mucus began wrapping around the Attainium.

"Mana Blast!" He yelled out, pulling his weapon away from the moving glob as it was hit by arcane energy. It seemed to do damage, recoiling after the strike and attempting to get closer to him again. "Fucking slime bastard!"

He transformed it from a trident into his favorite weapon; the flail. The spiked end walloped the sentient blob in the middle and splattered it across the tunnel walls, leaving Chester panting in the dark.

You have slain Sludge Slime (level 3)

During the ensuing chaos, he wasn't able to keep the focus of his illusion and had it dispelled, leaving him engulfed in darkness.

"I haven't seen a slime in a minute...Those fuckers spawn down here? Great. At least they're not strong."

He cursed and turned invisible once more after hearing voices calling out from above, who undoubtedly heard the commotion in the sewer system. The man hastily made his way through the tunnels, relying only on the scant trails of light coming from the grates until he felt he was in the clear.

"Poor bastards. They have to come down here every day, soaked in shit and piss. And they also have to worry about sludge monsters attacking them? Whatever they're getting paid, it's not enough."

Being stuck in the long-winding tunnels of Welton's sewer system was grating on his nerves. The illusionist's only sign that he was making progress was whenever he recognized the streets which led closer and closer to the palace.

"Malway Crescent, fuck, I'm almost there!" He whispered to himself, speeding up in anticipation of getting out of here and marking his progress down. He devoted most of his brainpower to memorizing his route, so he could have many ways of entering the underground tunnels and reaching the palace.

In his eagerness, he didn't realize the currents of the water getting stronger and stronger. His breath was heavy, fogging up the transparent hood which allowed him to see what was in front of him. No other sludge monsters had bothered him, making the progress even faster.

"If I take this right, then I should be"

Turning the corner, the rush of water got faster and stronger. He noticed a bright light up ahead and went closer, doing his best to balance himself properly and making his way to the mysterious source of light. The glare made it hard for him to discern what was up ahead until he was only a few meters away from where the rushing current led to.

"Oh. This leads to the hole." He said simply. Looking down, he could see the bridges far away which led to the underbelly of Welton's Furnace where the massive flame was being fuelled by multiple workers. By a stroke of unfortunate luck, his foot slipped and he fell face-first into the sewer wastage. "OH FUCK, THIS LEADS TO THE HOLE!!"

Scrambling for something to grab onto, he reached onto the uneven sides of the tunnel wall but quickly found himself losing grip due to how the suit was designed. Chester cursed, getting the idea of forming a hook-shaped weapon with the Attainium and latching himself onto the wall. Desperately grabbing on and supporting his body weight against the rapid currents with one hand, he readied his off-hand and swung as hard as he could at the tunnel walls.

It pierced through the concrete with ease, and he allowed himself a chance to take a few deep breaths as he got himself together. Using his main hand, he slowly rose and took care not to slip again.

A squelching noise alerted him and the illusionist looked up to see another sludge beast, crawling slowly towards the iridescent hook. He stood still for a moment, glaring so hard at the monster that it was a wonder it didn't spontaneously combust.

"We can be friends, right?"

The sentient blob gurgled and made its way onto the Attainium, either unaware or ignoring the man's words. He pleaded his case to the monster but no avail, switching to threats very quickly. Chester cycled through the stages of grief several times in under ten seconds.

"Don't do something you'll regret, you hear me? I'll find you. Where you live, who you love, and anybody you've ever had an attachment towards. Think carefully. Come on, there's no benefit to you."

It paused for a brief moment, and Chester believed that his threat had worked. Instead, it leaped forward and smashed itself right into his face, trying to suffocate him.

His hands fell to his face, and in a stroke of complete panic, the man blasted himself in the face with energy. It did the job, forcing the monster off his face and he felt the heat of his attack heat up the surface of his thick leather suit. Unfortunately, nothing was keeping him from falling into the massive hole which was several thousand meters deep.

Just as his feet began to slip off, Chester grabbed onto the edge of the sewer wall with both hands, knowing that there was an absolute zero percent chance of him surviving such a great fall. He felt a slight tug at his feet, looking down to reveal the sludge monster wrapping itself around his legs. With half of his body hanging off a ledge, the man's thoughts were a whirlwind of panic and curses aimed at the blob of sewage clinging to his lower half.

Several precious seconds passed, and he fought to keep his wild heartbeat down as he slowly pulled himself up and into the more stable ground. Using sheer brute strength and the disgusting rapids, the blob fell down the stream, never to return. It reminded the man when he rinsed snot off his hand using warm water, watching as it slowly deattached off his legs. Collecting his Attainium, which was still lodged on the tunnel wall, the man got adjusted to the strong current and learned how to keep his footing despite the powerful rapids.

"At this point, I've suffered too far to stop, no?"

Chester wanted to go to sleep. He wanted a nice, long twelve-hour deep soak in a bathtub. He was tired, grimy, and covered in undesirable bodily fluids. But the sheer spite and having gone through so much, he wanted to follow through with his plan.

"Do or die." He told himself, walking away from the sewer waterfall, getting back on track, and finding the direction to the kingdom's palace. With animosity and spite fuelling him, the criminal illusionist went into his task with laser focus. A couple of minutes later, he received a notification, signaling that the accursed slime had reached the bottom of the hole.

You have slain Sludge Slime (level 4)

After almost thirty minutes of careful navigation, he recognized the street marker which validated all of his efforts.

"Dondas Avenue...Finally."

His shoulders sagged in exhaustion. The smell of human waste permeated every pore of his skin, showing that he hadn't sown the suit together perfectly. Seeing that he reached his goal, made him want to turn in for the night

"That should be good. I made good progress today. Although..."

Chester knew that going through the route was possible but very tedious. Even without making any mistakes, navigating the sewers took at least an hour minimum. With that in mind, he resolved to find a nearby sewer grate that allowed for easy access. He wondered if he could've just done that instead of exploring the entirety of the kingdom's public sewer system, but decided not to dwell on that.

'To be fair, I'll need to exit through the main tunnels every time because of the footprints I'd create. So I can only use the shortcut for coming in.'

He tried his best to remember any spots which could suffice as an entry point but knew that it was going to be difficult to do so without knowing what was aboveground. With that in mind, he carefully made his way back to the sewer treatment facility with the intent of rewarding himself for all the hard work he had done today.

It didn't take very long, and once he reached the entrance he quickly found himself locked out. The two dwarves he had seen previously were gone. Reaching behind the bars and using his Attainium, he picked it open and quickly closed the gate before anyone could notice. Going into the locker room area, he washed while remaining invisible. Most of the workers were gone, although he remained vigilant as some were still roaming the facility.

Invisibility has reached level 4.

The prolonged use had garnered him a level-up, which he gratefully appreciated. He wanted to see the next stage of the skill, knowing that his class skills were important to upgrade. Chester wanted to see what Darkness could offer as well, knowing he didn't use it as often as he should have. He promised to himself that he would dedicate his next few nights to using his Dream spell, an under-utilized skill he couldn't be bothered to use.

After finishing the shower, he turned the water off before any worker could come in and noticed one of the stalls being used without anybody inside. He reappeared well away from the facility and walked out of an alley, letting out the breath he didn't know he was holding. It was already nighttime, having taken the rest of the day after lunch with Alda to traverse through the sewers. Looking at the streets, he quickly familiarized himself with where he was and began heading closer to the center of the large dwarven kingdom.

Remembering his promise, he headed to the tavern close to Welton's Furnace, knowing that Jerry Sharpax would be there.

'Come to think of it, Alda's headed there as well. It's her day off.'

So he went. Into the tavern, a large and lively atmosphere filled with dwarves ready to get wasted after a hard day's work. The human was no exception. True to his promise, he paid for Jerry's drinks and they chatted amicably with the rest of the pub. It hadn't taken long for them to warm up to the boisterous and charismatic illusionist. No longer known as 'Prince Damien's servant', he had climbed up and made himself known as a skilled adventurer with good interpersonal skills. The man was certain nobody had an inkling of his class, not even Alda. Under the disguise of his hood, he took the time to test out his Alter Self skill while under the influence of alcohol.

"And then I said-Oh, Alda! About time! I've been waiting. Here, have a seat." He pulled down an empty stool and set it beside him, but the woman had a half-lidded look in her eye and urgency in her movements. Seeing how she came from the upper floor and had a flushed face, he assumed that she had gotten here before him.

The female warrior pulled him down by the collar and whispered in his ear.

"Why don't you and I go back to my bedroom? I'm feeling a bit...frisky."

The curly-haired man didn't even spare a glance before standing up and plastering a stupid grin on his face. He turned to Jerry, giving him a quick farewell along with another round of ale before carrying the drunken woman out of the tavern and into the night, enjoying each other's company while the sounds of whoops and hollers followed their exit.

'A perfect ending to a horrible day. I'll look for the shortcut tomorrow.' Chester thought to himself quietly, humming a quiet tune as Alda kissed him along the neck as he carried her like a princess.