Pills. In bamboo vials, they smelled fragrant and sweet. There were dozens of different vials, each labeled in the same tidy script. The bug must have had some talent alchemy, because there were simple tools as well, a mortar and pestle alongside a small cauldron furnace covered in runes that shrank and expanded it.

Then there were weapons. The bug hadn’t just carried the paintbrush as a killing tool - there was a wicked sickle, its chipped inner edge lined with a greasy, mossy natural venom. A harpoon covered in runes of binding and seeking.

Nic ran his fingers over them, using Archive Recall. Both were E-Class.

Next were the defensive tools. A set of brass bells that could be used to set up an array, shielding those inside against attacks coming from outside. Good for long distance combat. A small set of paper dolls, which made Nic shiver and remember the origami realm. They were each inscribed with characters of binding and seeking; once activated they’d plaster themselves to the enemy’s skin and restrict their aura.

Fantastic little things, really. The bug had been a collector.

Next were raw materials. Set in boxes of preserving wood, there was a slab of ancient ginseng, the color of moonlight with faint streaks of green. A pair of near-black cherries. A fragrant piece of red bark, written with natural runes.

Finally, there was the painting. It was beautiful. Strange yellow trees surrounded a mountain of rising pink stone, terminating in a white gazebo temple atop the peak.

“I want the painting, the ginseng, and the cherries. Oh, and a bottle of pills.” Nic said instantly.

Tarquin glared at him with suspicion. “Oh, just those, huh? And why those, in particular?”

“Okay, tell you what.” Nic grinned. “You take those, and I’ll take the rest…”

“Oh no. No no. I’m not getting tricked that way…” Tarquin immediately backpedaled. “And don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing.”

“You have no idea what any of these do.” Nic reminded him cheerily.

“And I’m damned if I do, damned if I don’t…” Tarquin groaned.

“Yeeep.” Nic taunted.

“Fine, fine. Take the damn stuff, just feel ashamed. Ashamed for tricking your only friend so cruelly.” Tarquin acceded, bitterly.

“Only friend, huh? Guess I’ve got none now.” Nic eagerly yanked up the portrait, the ginseng, the cherries- his hand hovering for a second over the bottles before grabbing his favorite, the most potent-smelling batch.

“You always were a rat bastard and I’ve always said as much.” Tarquin said, groaning as he saw which bottle Nic had plucked.

“Hey, I earned this treasure fair and square-”

“And I saved your life.”

“A little bit. I would’ve pieced myself back together from that fall, you know. Would’ve sucked, but I would’ve done it.”

“And ruin your perfect record of never, ever getting beaten to a pulp?” Tarquin snapped back.

Nic just shrugged and acceded the argument. He was too engrossed in greedily accounting his gains, popping open the top of the wax-sealed vial to smell the medicine inside.

Eight-Color Coral Resin Pills. E-Class // Medicine. A coral reef is a monument to the dead, formed from the petrifying generations of small, polypous life-forms. These pills contain that samsara, life and death, using it to temper the body and advance Physical Strength beyond normal limits.

Delicious. And precisely what he needed to keep perfecting his body.

Aged Philosopher Ginseng. E-Class // Natural Treasure. A crooked root, twisted like an old man. Rich with the gentle energies of the land, this precious herbal remedy can be steeped out into alcohol to draw forth its purifying potential.

Soul Prison Obsidian Cherries. E-Class // Natural Treasure. Grown from the trees of an ancient battlefield, these fruits are a deadly poison for the soul, plunging it into an abyss of swirling, tormented souls. Eating one is deadly - but the second will purge the first’s effects. The longer it can be endured and the darker the cherry, the more potent the benefits to the soul.

The smell of these treasures was beyond fragrant. Sweet, enticing, the aroma almost seemed to carry memories- Nic could hear the screams of the battlefield and the peace of the dark soil, contrasting one another as he looked between the two.

But it was undoubtedly the painting that drew Nic's attention the most. While it was seemingly simple on the surface, a landscape drawn without much skill, the individual swirls and strokes the paintbrush had left behind were hypnotizing. In the patterns of grainy paint, Nic could almost make out runic patterns. With every moment it felt like he was falling deeper into the landscape, and a subtle pressure began to build, constricting his mind and aura until he was forced to pull his eyes away and break the spell.

Portrait of Mount Aikon. E-Class // Astral. Created by an ancient master over the Concept of Painting, this fragile scroll contains his mastery, transmitting it to worthy souls throughout the ages. Meditating upon his works will benefit the soul.

Benefit the soul...

It was a training-type treasure, one that would let Nic speed up the progression of the most core part of his cultivation, the soul. It was another tool in his collection, and even if the benefits weren't instant, Nic was confident they'd be rich over the course of time. Rolling up the painting scroll, he wrapped it carefully and placed it in his bag.

At that moment...

Light burst into the air. Across the horizon, a chiming sound echoed, like the chant of a thousand voices in perfect harmony. Pillars of blue, radiant energy rose from the forest in all directions- Nic counted sixteen from horizon to horizon.

"What..." Tarquin had begun to say.

Half the dining table was already reaching for their weapons.

But Sofia flickered into view, a shining hologram. "Hold steady." She said, and Nic could hear her voice as she repeated the command over every house, every gathering. She was everywhere in the city. "There's nothing to panic about. It's only the System. The Second Wave is beginning."

It was ‘only’ the System…

Only the force that uprooted worlds and turned men into animals.

Nic had to smile bitterly at that.

Slowly, from the pillars of light, runes began to emerge. They broke away like sparks from a bonfire, settling down into the forest. Catching on the treetops. Sinking into the earth.

As he watched one landed nearby, sinking into the earth. Instantly, up grew a twisting shoot of green. A nascent sacred herb - probably something even better than had grown in the first days of the System. It was protected by a pearly barrier, keeping anyone from plucking or trampling it prematurely.

Nic could taste the rich, pure Essence of the world in that moment. He took a single breath and his cultivation base surged powerfully.

The voice of the System filled the sky.

People of Earth

The Second Wave Begins

You have walked far on the starry path and conquered many obstacles, but now the path grows narrower, the woods beside more perilous. Those who follow the way will have to fight and strive ever harder not to lose their footing.

From this moment on, redouble your efforts.

In three days, the First Wave Bounty board will close. At that time, Training will become available in its place. Each native denizen of this world will receive a single free opportunity for training - but beware. The most valuable options are also the most difficult and lethal.

Beast hordes will now appear in the wilds. They will amass and lash out at cities, fighting tooth and nail.

Those beasts at G-Class or below are offered a chance at advancement. Once they accumulate 10,000 Essence, they will be allowed to form a Shard.

Monuments have been placed across your territory, marked by the beacons you just saw. Each one carries a Trial to test your mettle, and rewards aplenty for their defeat. Completing Trials within your own Domain will award the city as well as the individual.

The options available to Settlements have increased, allowing them to summon workers from those Earthlings not found worthy, and harvest the richness of nature.

This Second Wave will last until fully fifty percent of the population has been culled.

Fear not.

Only the weak shall be lost.

In each Settlement, a temple to the gods Pathos and Logos shall bloom. If this news shakes your heart, seek solace there.

Nic’s fists clenched. He heard the rumbling, and up from the water rose two temples, one decorated in flowers and bright murals, the other drab and gray and guarded by pillars like a mausoleum.

The System had set foot in his territory.

Sofia appeared beside him, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Relax, Nicolas. They’re harmless. The servants can’t leave the temples, they can only preach to those who are willing to listen. And Winterhome shares your…”

She smiled gently.

“Unruly nature.”

Nic could only hope. Sofia might still have faith in Pathos, but Nic’s heart surged with bitter brine whenever he thought of either of them. Were they even…

He knew Pathos had died, long ago, and only her remnant spirit survived.

But was even that true?

He had seen servant after servant of the gods, but never a sign the real things existed behind those hands.

“Have you ever met Pathos?” He asked Sofia suddenly.

She paused, taken aback by the question. “Only once.” She admitted. “Before her death.”

Nic nodded slowly.

Perhaps she really was dead, and nothing remained.

Perhaps Logos was likewise, buried beneath the earth.

Maybe there was nothing to fear at all.

He turned his head up towards the sky and watched as the pillars shrank down to the earth, collapsing like the flame of candles, going soft and misshapen and breaking apart into wisps of flame that faded into smoke. Soon nothing was left but the last of the settling runes.

Tarquin turned to him with excitement shining in his eyes.

“C’mon, Nic. Let’s go see what we can see.”

Nic couldn’t help but share a little of the enthusiasm, even through his sense of dread, his certainty this would endanger them all…

Because it was fun.

Despite everything - the worries stacked high on his plate, the strange ominous feeling that had ridden him since entering the origami realm - he still loved the excitement.

The fury.

Even the almost-dying.

And Tarquin, his brother, always had the power to remind him of that.

“Yeah, let’s go see.” He agreed.