"What is it?" Taryn asked.
"Normally, a planetary cosmic imprint—usually of the magnetic type—is used to allow a craft to shrink to pocket size and expand again. But your ship currently has one stellar core and two..." He paused, clearly avoiding the word dimensional. "Non-planetary cores."
"In theory, you could reverse summon the craft into your dimension instead of shrinking it, but that would consume your cosmic energy—and only you and Xara would be able to retrieve it that way."
Taryn nodded. “Can’t we just add a planetary imprint? I can cover the extra cost.”
Leo lit up. “Actually, I was considering doing that for free—upgrading it into a four-core elite model. But there's a catch. The planetary retainer core needs to be of a higher grade than the others to perform the compression technique. You’d need an S-Class planetary cosmic imprint.”
“Isn’t it the gravitational principle within planetary cosmic energy that causes the expansion and contraction?” Taryn asked.
Leo’s brows raised. “Exactly.”
“Then what if I use a powerful gravitational spell instead? One that contains those laws.”
Leo tilted his head. “In theory, yes. Cosmic imprints—sigils—are encrypted spells that grant access to laws. A pure spell could work the same. But something like that doesn’t exist in this world.”
Taryn turned to Lia. “Bring me a brush and cosmic array paper.”
She quickly complied.
Taryn closed his eyes and visualized the spell Imp had shown him. He drew it in smooth, confident strokes.
The room grew quiet.
Leo and Lia stared, slack-jawed. They couldn’t decipher the alien script—but the paper exuded a faint gravitational field. Even the ink shimmered with unnatural energy.
“You’ve opened my eyes today,” Leo whispered.
Taryn only smiled. Xara giggled in the corner. Only she remembered how slow Taryn had been in calligraphy back at the sect. Now? He looked like a master.
Leo clapped once. “Why not just make it a full elite model? We need one more retainer core. Even an E-Class commercial imprint would do—unless you’ve got another spell?”
“Give me until tomorrow,” Taryn said. “I’ll find something.”
Leo nodded. “And keep the papers with the imprints and spell schematics with you. I’d rather not even leave room for suspicion.”
Taryn waved his hand and absorbed the scrolls into his dimension.
“Let’s go,” he said to Xara.
They settled at a nearby inn. As always, Taryn reserved the best rooms. Eunuch stood guard outside.
“I’m going in,” Taryn said—a term dimensional cultivators used to describe projecting into their inner domain.
Xara smiled faintly. “I’ll do the same.”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
They sat beside each other, entering meditation. Both of their bodies fell still.
Inside Gehenom Valley
Taryn entered the palace court and took his seat upon the throne.
As always, Damion was the first to appear.
“My lord.”
“Where’s Imp?”
“I’m here, my lord!” she called, entering clumsily with a grin.
“Damion, leave us,” Taryn ordered.
He bowed and vanished.
“I need a new spell. Something like the gravitational one—but based on a different law.”
Imp blinked, surprised. “A request? Not a demand?”
“No games today, Imp.”
She adjusted her stance. “I do have a proposal.”
Taryn’s gaze darkened. “You’re bargaining with me?”
“It’s to benefit your cultivation,” she replied, kneeling. “Rather than simply giving you a spell, I wish to teach you to forge your own.”
“I’m listening.”
“Within you lie four laws,” she explained. “Space and fire—from your dimensional imprint. Death—from the Undead Sovereign’s blessing. And time—from the seal on your heart.”
Taryn was intrigued.
“How do I convert those into spells?”
“Spells are the devil’s language,” Imp said. “Enter your devil state. Meditate on a law. Its spell will manifest in that tongue. But it may take centuries to fully comprehend a single law. I recommend starting with the seal—it contains a fragment of the law of time.”
Taryn narrowed his eyes. “And what do you want in return?”
“I only ask to learn the spell with you,” Imp said. “Time is sacred to the heavens. Its secrets have never been given to us. Until now.”
Taryn was silent for a moment, then said, “I’ll agree—but only if you swear never to betray me.”
Imp laughed. “My lord, I deceive, lie, plunder, and kill—for you. Unlike the demons who hide their motives, I am what I am. And I will never betray you.”
Taryn stared into her eyes… then nodded.
“Deal.”
He stood. “I’m going to study the law now.”
“Do it far from Xara,” Imp warned. “You risk hurting her just by being near. Not that I’d mind.”
Taryn ignored her and vanished.
He opened his eyes.
Xara was still meditating beside him.
He stood quietly, instructed Eunuch to remain vigilant, then slipped out into the city.
He found an abandoned house—old, ruined, quiet.
“This’ll do.”
Inside, he locked the door, summoned a Fenrir hound for protection, and began to meditate.
He denied his heart. His horns emerged. His body shifted. The devil state took over.
Darkness filled the house.
“Welcome back, my lord,” Imp whispered through revelation.
“Guide me.”
And she did.
Through devil meditation, Taryn channeled soul energy into the seal—accessing its hidden law.
It burned. It clawed at his mind. But he endured.
After thirty minutes, he fell back, panting.
“It’s a fragment… but a real one,” Imp whispered before fading from his consciousness.
Taryn stood.
He inscribed the spell on the wall and activated it.
At first, nothing happened.
Then—he made a scratch on the floor.
And watched as it slowly reversed itself.
His eyes lit up.
“Time… is frozen in this room.”
It was weak. Objects returned to their previous state over time—but it was real. The spell locked the room into the past. With greater control, he could slow time… maybe even stop it.
“If I inscribe this into the craft, it would self-repair. If I place it on my body… I’ll age slower.”
He began removing the spell from the walls, satisfied.
Until—
“Hahahaha!”
Laughter.
A devil.
“Such an intriguing spell… I couldn’t help but reveal myself. But now that I’ve seen you—your soul will be mine!”
A shadowy figure materialized.
“An imp?” Taryn asked.
The entity lunged.
Taryn summoned Fenrir.
“Attack!”
But the hound’s bite passed through air.
The devil was incorporeal.
Taryn fired nether flames—effective. The creature retreated. But then, it struck from above.
Taryn rolled, barely dodging.
He couldn’t match it in close quarters. Fenrir couldn’t hurt it. His flame had limited effect.
Then he remembered.
Devils are born from resentful dead.
“Fenrir! Find the corpse this devil is tethered to!”
The hound sniffed and dashed away.
The devil panicked—its attacks grew wilder.
Furniture shattered. Debris flew.
Taryn dodged, but took a strike to the brow. Blood dripped into his eye.
“Keep going!” he ordered.
Fenrir leapt into a closet and lunged.
“Wait! Let’s make a deal!”
“No deal.”
Fenrir bit down, swallowing the corpse whole. The devil’s tether was broken.
Its soul was dragged into Gehenom Valley—screaming.
The room fell still.
Taryn exhaled.
The hound faded.
He stumbled out of the house—wounded, bloodied… and smiling.
He had a time spell now.
And soon, a ship worthy of a Sovereign.