Many things were capable of numbing pain. If Nil were to be believed, a strong enough mind was all that was necessary to allow a person to get beyond one’s physical limitations. Since he was a mage, that probably was true. In Dallion’s case, though, the best solution was adrenalin, and currently he was getting lots of it.

The number of wounds that covered his body were more than he had his entire life. The stinging was barely noticeable. If it wasn’t for the smell of blood, Dallion would have thought he was covered in sweat. The greater concern right now was stamina. Even with the fight turning in Dallion’s favor, it had taken him a lot more effort than he had planned. Already he had resorted to several more point attacks to reduce the manticore. Fighting using spark vibrations alone had proved to be too slow. If Dallion had continued along that route, he would have needed hours to defeat the creature, and that was beyond his time window.

With every successful attack, the manticore got smaller. Void matter had stopped pouring from the floors above, suggesting that the Star was short on it. More than likely, he was keeping the rest for himself. That was one of the things that kept not making sense. If the roles were reversed, Dallion would have swooped down to join the fight just after the manticore had formed. Nil kept insisting it was due to Moon imposed restrictions, but Dallion was no longer sure.

The manticore leapt through the gaps in the beams, making sure not to come in contact with the metal. Wounds had caused it to shrink to the size of a normal lion. Its abilities, on the other hand, were just as potent.

Leaping up, Dallion slashed at it with a vibrating harpsisword. Before he could hit the creature, scales emerged from its body, blocking the attack. Due to the spark’s effect, the scales shattered, though not before the rest of the manticore had detached itself from them, escaping a safe distance away.

I could still deal with it, Aether suggested. It and the fight that follows.

Wiping the sweat off his forehead, Dallion split into half a dozen instances. All of them chased after the manticore. It was tempting to have them do point attacks, but as he had found out a while ago, point attacks required energy, even if done in instances.

Aware that they had entered a war of attrition, the manticore ran to the other side of the pyramid. It didn’t tire, so it had the option of continuing the fight indefinitely. Like the Star, it had become the defender, one that Dallion couldn’t just ignore.

I can take him, Nox said. The crackling had calmed down significantly now that so much of the void matter had been purged.

I don’t want to lose you, buddy, Dallion replied, attempting to corner the manticore again with instances.

Then don’t miss.

It was a gamble in the best of circumstances, but it had also given Dallion an idea. In half of his instances, he got into a position of a long ranged attack, then threw the Nox dagger. The manticore leapt to the side, letting the dagger hit one of the sky steel rods. However, that was Dallion’s goal to begin with. The moment he saw the creature change direction, he split again. Two of his instances dashed straight at the manticore. Then, when he was a foot away, he performed his final attack.

Scales covered the whole of its body same as before, but this time Dallion didn’t follow up with s standard spark attack, but went all out with a point attack as well.

The scales shattered like thin ice. Moments later, the force punched through the rest of the manticore’s body, causing it to pop into a cloud of spray. Minuscule black droplets flew in all directions, quickly evaporating under the power of the spark.

Finally, Dallioon said to himself.

Breathing heavily, he went to retrieve his dagger. He didn’t pause—he couldn’t afford to. The moment the adrenaline was gone, pain and exhaustion would hit him like a ton of bricks. He had to reach the star before that could happen.

“Well played,” Arthurows said. “Tool you long enough. If you were one of my followers, you’d have been elevated to second in charge—that would be my representation in the world. People have killed each other for millennia to achieve that rank. Not all that many managed to make it.”

Not bothering to reply, Dallion leaped up along the rebars. There were no ladders or even openings in the seventh floor ceiling, but that only meant that Dallion was going to have to make one.

“I can still grant you that,” the star added. “It’s more than anyone else could offer you. Even if you release the phoenix, you’ll only get some spellcrafting skills. I can give you so much more.”

“Spark,” Dallion whispered, thrusting the harpsisword forward.

The section of void matter melted at contact, allowing him to leap through to the floor above.

There were many things that Dallion expected from the final two floors. What he didn’t expect was to find himself in an eighties arcade lounge. Low round tables, egg-like chairs, pinball and arcade machines… even a wall of box-like televisions were there, covering a section of the wall. There were no metal rods, no internal walls, just one vast space.

This isn’t supposed to be here, Dallion thought.

To make it even stranger, all the technology wasn’t made of void matter, or even local materials. The faint shimmering surrounding everything made it clear that everything had come from Earth itself.

Splitting into a dozen instances, Dallion walked forward. A bar section was visible in the distant part of the room. To little surprise, the Star was there, sitting calmly on a tall bar-stool made entirely of plastic.

“So, you made it,” Arthurows said, taking a sip from a large glass. The liquid inside had the appearance of cola, but Dallion could tell that it was liquid void. “Most react like that the first time they get here. Though, as I said, the vast majority don't. You may say that this is the interview section of the job. Everyone who’s proved to have the skills earns a one-on-one with me, during which we discuss their future role.”

If you believe that, you’ll believe anything, Aether laughed.

In a way, he was right. After everything experienced in the awakening world, one could indeed start believing anything. In this case, though, the phoenix probably meant something else.

Curiously, Dallion made his way towards the bar section of the room, blood dripping on the carpet as he walked. He had almost reached his goal. The most important thing was not to mess it up now.

“Like the tech?” the Star asked casually. “It’s all functional, powered by magic. There used to be a lot more of it in the south, but you already know how that turned out. If all this wasn’t in an item, it would have been overlooked.”

Dallion didn’t stop.

“There used to be a lot of echoes as well, making it a really wild place. Those all vanished when it was brought into the real world. I tried to use chainlings to create a similar effect, but somehow could never get the proper feel.”

“You’re just copying the Moons,” Dallion hissed.

“Am I?” Arthurows stood up from his seat. “Or did they copy me? You’ve seen them several times by now. Do you think they can create anything on their own? That’s the whole point we’re dragged here, to do the work for them.”

That was a rather interesting approach. Thanks to the aetherbird, Dallion’s senses had become heightened to the extent that he could feel the Star’s lies, like faint static in the background of his voice. There was no denying, though, that his explanation was in part true. The technology level of this world was low and by what Dallion had seen, based on otherworlder knowledge. One could almost call it organic, though only when it came to small things. Massive changes, similar to those the Star had attempted to achieve, were non-existent, almost as if the world itself was suppressing the knowledge. Dallion had constantly felt that his imagination was becoming more limited with each day. It always took a fright or traumatic experience to shove him to think out of the box again.

“So, you’ll create a new world?” Dallion asked. “A better world, right?”

“Nope.” The annoying smile vanished from Arthurows’ face. “If I do that, the world will be destroyed and everything will have to start from scratch. However, there are ways of bending the rules without breaking them.”

“The skill gem.”

“Always looking at the small picture.” The Star shook his head. “The gem is a means. The only real way to push things forward is to be able to set the rules. As long as the Moons oversee things, it’ll always be the same. Whenever we get close, they’ll smack us down. Some thought that the way to achieve this is by creating so many innovations that they inevitably copy one of them. Make use of their boredom. My way is better.”

One of Dallion’s instances rushed forward. Faster than the pling of the eye, he combined his spark with a point attack aimed straight at the Star’s chest. As he did, the void matter that formed the carpet rose up, creating a defensive cube in front of Arthurows. The destructive wave tore through it, like a flame torch through biscuits, yet even so was unable to reach the other end.

“Was that necessary?” The Star sighed. As Dallion suspected, in this room, he was overwhelmingly stronger. Had the attack not been an instance, but occurred in reality, it would no doubt have been followed by a counterattack, one that Dallion wasn’t prepared to stop. “I really don’t want to mess up this room. Things from Earth are hard to get.”

Instinctively, Dallion split again and did a line arrack. Void matter cubes emerged all around him, protecting the furniture and arcade machines.

“You don’t listen, do you?” A sharp edge was felt in the Star’s tone. And still he didn’t attack.

“Won’t be the first time you’d lied.” Dallion took a step back. “What’s next? Will you offer me a Xbox if I join you?”

“No. You either join me or I’ll kill you. That’s the deal.” Armor of void matter formed over his casual clothes. This means he was serious, but also that he was afraid. “The Moons still have some dominion over me, so to kill you, I must follow the rules. Offering you a way out is part of the rules.”

Aether, if I release you, can you kill him? Dallion asked.

Easily, the aetherbird replied. All the void matter is just for show.

Can I?

No way. Even if you didn’t get any wounds getting here, you’ll be squished.

Why let me come here, then?

Because only this way you’ll believe me, you have no other choice than releasing me.

“He’s tempting you, isn’t he?” Arthurows frowned. “I bet he’s going on and on about how he can make everything right if you just release him back into the world. Did he start promising things yet?”

Dallion’s expression stiffened.

“What did he promise? Teaching you magic? Having you take my place?”

“Getting Gleam back,” Dallion said.

“Your shardfly? It was inevitable. The species is violent and territorial. How else did you think they survived in the wilderness?”

“You could have stopped the other one. You chose not to.”

“Maybe I could have.” There was a grain of doubt in his voice. Dallion heard it clearly. “Is that what it would have taken for you to join me?”

“It might have.”

“I guess we’ll never know.” A gunblade emerged in each of Arthurow’s hands. Now that he was in his own domain, the weapons were a lot more finely crafted with immaculate details, and no doubt much more accurate and deadly.

Drawing the Nox dagger, Dallion tapped the Harpsisword in his leg. Just then, a rectangle appeared.