After a long, thoughtful stare into Dante's eyes, I gave him a wry grin. I understood exactly what he meant.
"There's no easy way to break the chains of mortal fear," I said, tone measured. "If I were to put it bluntly... I'd say it's impossible for any of you to ascend. Not to godhood. Not to transcendence."
"What?" Vex stood, startled. "How come? We watched you split the sky, tear a hole in the atmosphere, and cleave the moon in half! If you can do that, how can we not become exalted?!"
"Because the only way to become an exalted being—" I lifted my right hand, letting the light catch the old bandages, "—is through sacrifice. And extreme luck. You need to be born with the capacity for it."
The weight of silence pressed in around the group. Vex sank back down, and I could feel Sathuna's angry gaze stabbing into the back of my neck.
I brushed it off and shifted tactics.
"However," I continued, "it's not impossible for mortals to fight exalted beings. Plenty of myths across the connected galaxies speak of men who stole power from their gods—of heroes who broke their chains. It usually takes divine blessings, artifacts, tricks... but it can be done."
"Which are you?" Quinella asked suddenly. She turned to face me, her voice quivering under the weight of restrained tears. "God... or transcendent?"
I leaned back in my obsidian chair of ice, half-wondering if this was meant as a test.
"I was a god for a while. Fifteen years, maybe." I glanced at my bandaged arm again. "Then I tore the divinity out of myself, willingly. Became a transcendent for a little while. Pretty sure I stopped being that, too, after hitting rock bottom enough times." A hollow grin tugged at my mouth as I stared at the bandages. "Funny, isn't it? Once upon a time I nearly sacrificed myself for that flame."
I started unwrapping my right arm, peeling the linen away slowly.
The gasps that followed were poetic in their revulsion.
My right arm—reddened and warped by scar tissue—was a mess of deep, angry reds and wrinkled, blistered flesh. Scabs clung like rot, interlaced with strange silver tissue, glowing faintly where [Sephiwrath]'s sigils and veins pulsed beneath. The scars ran from fingertips to forearm, a grotesque reminder of what I once gave up.
"No matter how many times this arm gets severed... it always comes back like this. The scars weren't always this bad either. Quitting godhood made them permanent." I began rewrapping the bandages as the others sat in stunned silence. "All in all, just me falling for my partner's taunts. That sassy bastard knows how to get under anyone's skin."
"Still," Falice asked, voice raised, "how can you act so relaxed around such a serious wound? Aren't you... upset, at least?"
I tilted my head slightly, confused. Then I understood. She was speaking like a normal person. Not an exalted or the semi-immortals I spent so much time with.
"I don't have the luxury nor ability for sorrow," I said softly. "But outrage? That, I'm still good at that if you haven't noticed."
I leaned forward, raising my bandaged finger to point at each of them.
"Vex. Stop hiding from the past.
Dante. Embrace the new you.
Quinella. Understand who you really are.
Falice. Realize your faults.
And Ben... someone tell him he's an idiot when he wakes up."
"You're talking like you know us better than we know ourselves," Dante muttered, his voice dipped in quiet pain.
"I'm the Kralscell of Sentience." My voice was low, certain. "I can hear the dark thoughts you don't even say out loud swirling in your head. Makes me a damn good therapist. Despite my... emotionally unavailable or mental instability. Either works, honestly."
From somewhere far behind, Thorn gave a smug mental thumbs-up, listening in as Wukong, Heru, Sifo Ren, and the rest worked out escape routes.
I turned back to the crew.
"All any of you can do now... is move forward. Improve. Maybe even find a way to rival gods, transcendent beings, or worse—Primordials."
"Primordials?" Quinella repeated, brow furrowing.
"You're not ready for that," I said quickly. "They're as bad as the Empyrean I just fought in the Sound Dimension." With a flick of my hand, I called the group's focus back. "Right now, you need to get stronger. Because you were seen fighting a Zorain of
Vex scoffed. "As if we can afford to vanish. How long is a 'little while' to you? Five hundred years? A thousand? We have dreams that can't wait centuries!"
I stared at him, the look I gave communicating enough slurs to fill a phones whole memory.
"Two years," I said at last. "Index calendar time. That's twelve years on most CGA-aligned planets, give or take. In that time, train. Adapt. Reinvent yourselves. Then return to the light."
As I stared, I noticed a distinct fresh cut across Vex's arm. A familiar mark—one left by a very particular robot's blade. I would have to go find them after this to find out what they were after.
Muttering softly, Quinella added, "The Traveler might be onto something. Time flows differently in other systems. Sometimes it's just months. Sometimes eons pass in the blink of an eye. It's why the CGA has its own strange calendar to keep things sane within the Untamed Domain. This plan... might just work."
"As if we could do that," Dante scoffed, disapproval cutting through his words. "The entire weight of the Connected Galaxies Alliance is bearing down on us. Where exactly are we supposed to find a place—or someone—willing to train us with that kind of heat on our backs?"
"You're forgetting who you're acquainted with now, mercenary." I pointed a thumb over my shoulder at the figures huddled in quiet conversation behind me. "With the Empyrean secured, we can leave the planet. We've got time. A lot of it. Could be fifty years before the next one stirs—and that's me being generous."
Even with Quinella's earlier support, hesitation lingered on their faces like frost refusing to melt. Understandable. They'd each have to go their separate ways, their own paths, isolated in their own disciplines. And right now, words weren't enough to convince them.
So I opted for proof.
"Water swordsman," I called out, slapping my thigh as I met Vex's gaze. "Let's have a hypothetical duel. I'll only use the first chapter of the Heavenly Sea Swordsmanship Manual. I'm no Teuxer with the blade, but I can play chess with imagination."
Vex blinked. "Heavenly Sea Swordsmanship? How do you—"
"How do I know the name?" I cut in with a grin. "I had the honour of meeting its original creator. Dan Youngsun. Ocean-obsessed, sky-worshipping lunatic. Brilliant man. Now. Let's begin."
[Skill: Horizon Chain — Constructs an illusion.]
With a snap of my fingers, golden-orange chains slithered into the sky and looped down, enclosing us in a cubic dreamscape of shifting dusk light. Five of us were pulled inside—and between Vex and I now stood two mannequins. The two of them wielding a katana and a pallasch broadsword. Just like the pair Vex carried on his waist.
Shock cracked Vex's usual calm like ice underfoot. I now stood what appeared to be twenty feet away from him, separated by the puppets.
"You... met the creator?" he muttered, reverence softening his tone. "Then... does that mean you've seen the original manuscript?"
With a flourish, a worn, leather-bound tome appeared in my left hand—its surface etched with sea-salt marks and sword oil stains. "He gave me his first copy. Said it belonged with someone who might actually use it." My grin twisted. "He cut mountains in half. Slayed dragons for testing stances. Hell of a guy."
Vex's eyes gleamed like a match to kindling.
A guess came to me. He'd found a half-destroyed copy, hadn't he? That he'd made it this far using a broken version was almost commendable—especially considering the fate of those who walked this sword path.
"So here's the deal," I said, holding the manual between two fingers. "Survive more than three turns against me... in three attempts. And it's yours."
Falice's voice pierced in behind Vex. "And if he loses?"
Thorn whispered something devilish through our link—and I chuckled. "Hehe. He scrubs Wukong's entire palace... using only a ragged brush."
The colour drained from Quinella's face. "Wait—Vex! Don't! Sun Wukong is the Monkey King! The scourge of the pantheon! His castle is cursed with centuries of monkey mischief!"
Vex didn't waver. "I don't care. I need that manual."
He stepped forward and took his seat opposite me.
"Good," I said. "We'll follow the orthodox rulebook. You get the first move."
The mannequins took their stances—mirroring the poised, deadly art of real duellists. Katana pointed forward. Pallasch angled over the shoulder.
Vex nodded. "Earthquake Quickstep. Then... Thundering Hailstone Strikes."
His mannequin moved in a blur, zig-zagging with seismic bursts before it spun into a flurry, slicing both blades toward my puppet's neck.
"Heh. Feather Rain Defence." I watched Vex flinch. "Redirecting force. Followed by... Meteor Whale Kick."
My mannequin angled its blade, parrying the twin strikes effortlessly, ducked, and launched upward with a brutal kick that slammed Vex's puppet into the dreamscape floor. The duel was over in less than a heartbeat.
Vex cursed and straightened. "Again."
The illusion reset.
"Lightning Steps. Combined with Wave Rush Thrust!"
His mannequin burst forth, blades drawn like charging horns.
"Cloud Jump." I barely raised a hand.
My puppet vaulted over the assault, forcing Vex to adapt mid-air.
"Twisting Mountain! Dragon Path!"
He redirected, pivoting on a dime.
"Lock swords. Heavenly Drop." My puppet caught the charge, binding the blades before cleaving down in a decisive execution.
"Again," I intoned, and the illusion spun back.
Vex's brow was soaked with sweat now. Gritting his teeth.
"Earthquake Step. Crossed Waves."
The opening repeat. Good. He was testing the variables.
"Heavenly Drop." My puppet met him again.
"Tornado Assault Rain!"
His puppet spiralled like a storm, hammering away until it knocked my mannequin off-balance.
"Wave Rush Thrust!" Vex roared, sensing his opportunity.
"Reverse Thundercloud," I whispered. My mannequin twisted the pallasch behind its back—catching the dual thrust on the flat of the blade. Then, I ordered, "Horizon Wind."
My puppet spun, kicking Vex's mannequin mid-air and slicing through it in one seamless horizontal arc.
[Skill: Horizon Chain — ends a dream.]
Chains dissolved. The illusion shattered. We were back on the hill. The spaceship behind us. The fire in Vex's eyes gone cold.
I rose and tossed the manual into his lap. "Read it properly."
He stared, stunned. "What?..." Flipping through the pages, disbelief turned to laughter—and then to rage. "...take it back." The book sailed through the air and struck my back. "I said take it back!" Vex shouted.
I turned, face unreadable, silver eyes dim with light while the book landed at my feet.
"I'll earn it," he growled. "I won't take your pity. I'll clean that damned castle—and then I'm coming back for it!"
Now that was the warrior I knew he was.
I smiled beneath my breath. "The warrior's spirit still burns.."
The book hovered into my waiting palm.
Then I turned to Heru. "Everything settled up there?"
I waited, the wind brushing past like a herald of what came next.