By the time they’d reached the centre, the creatures’ levels had climbed steadily, teetering near 900. If these ones were the same—or more likely, even higher—Alex would need to get creative and play to his strengths.

  He dumped all of his free stats into 'Dexterity.' Sixteen points, gone. Barely a drop in the ocean, and it likely wouldn't be enough.

  But he would have to make it enough.

  [Strength: 2875 (1797)

  Dexterity: 3690 (2306)

  Endurance: 1477 (923)

  Intelligence: 3474 (2171)

  Wisdom: 1298 (811)

  Qi: 1621 (1013)]

  Alex glanced at the numbers displayed on his interface: just over 14,300 total stats. That put him, unbuffed, somewhere near the strength of a mid-level 500 rare-class warrior—closer to level 600 or 700 for a common class. Without his Qi to cushion the blow of mana burn, using it now would be fatal. Not an option, he thought, forcing himself to focus. The Dao and allocation remained his strongest cards, but he would hold back on using either—because he would need both of them when he faced that thing on the throne.

  Liora’s breath hitched the moment her eyes landed on the thing sitting on the throne.

  Her fingers twitched, her grip tightening around nothing before snapping to her halberd. The metal shuddered under her grip, a tremor running through her hands, her knuckles going white.

  “…I—is that?”

  The words barely left her lips, caught between a whisper and something hoarse, like her throat had locked up before she could finish.

  Osric didn’t look at her. His eyes stayed on it, locked in quiet, steady recognition. His jaw shifted, a slow, heavy swallow moving down his throat.

  He nodded once.

  "It's too powerful... I-its mana's insane..."

  To Alex, the words barely registered. Power didn’t mean control. Victory did. Control wasn’t given, and it wasn’t taken by titles or thrones. Control belonged to whoever understood the fight better, and whoever saw the next move before it happened. Alex didn’t care what ruled this place. It didn’t rule him.

  Most of the warriors didn’t move. A few shifted slightly, adjusting their footing, but their focus was indifferent, detached. Some didn’t bother looking, their attention elsewhere, like nothing standing before them was worth immediate notice. One rose.

  Its body was shaped for war, muscle-dense and compact, built for explosive speed without excess weight. On one hand, it lifted an organic shield, a fusion of hardened bone and crystallized metal, its surface smooth where reinforced, jagged where past breaks had regrown stronger. It carried it with ease, positioning it with the practised movement of something that had fought with it for years.

  Its other hand flexed, thick layers of keratin sharpened into hooked claws, curved to rip through flesh and slide between armour plates.

  It moved without tension, each step smooth, refined through generations of adaptation. As it walked, it reached down, wrapping its fingers around a long, curved weapon still buried in the chest of a fallen hunter. A quick pull freed it, the metal slick with old blood. It turned the blade once, rolling its wrist, testing the balance, then approached them at a steady, casual pace, shield raised, weapon loose in its grip.

  They're underestimating us.

  But there wasn’t time. Every second here was a second stolen by someone else. They weren’t the only ones hunting the God of Creation’s legacy. Others were coming—rivals, enemies, people who would kill for this chance. One mistake, one hesitation, and they’d be too late, or worse, dead. Liora and Osric wouldn’t get another shot if this went wrong. Maybe he wouldn’t either. The hunters, the heroes, the two heads of House Dremoore, these creatures. And that madman, Magnus. All of them were coming. Alex didn't want to find himself attacked from all angles. Even if he somehow survived, his pathways were destroyed and his Qi was all but useless—he wouldn't come out unscathed.

  He looked past the approaching warrior goblin, and observed the thing on the throne, at the way it ate, the way its body refined itself mid-bite, the way its food turned to magic before it even fully swallowed, and he wondered how many years it had been doing that. Then he looked back to the approaching warrior. If I don’t move fast enough, I won’t get to move at all.

  Abyssal Swordsmen.

  The air ruptured, space folding into itself as the executioners struck all at once. Blades tore through flesh, armour, and bone in a single instant, giving the creature no time to react, no time to resist. The ground split as the air howled, and stone was cut apart. Its body collapsed in pieces.

  [You have defeated level 1010 Hob-Goblin Knightkin - Evolved Variant - Unfinished (D). Bonus experience due to level difference. Bonus experience due to ‘Hero’ feat.]

  [Level 246 - 249]

  [Strength +12, Dexterity+12, intelligence+18, unassigned stats +12]

  The diced remains writhed, transforming, muscles stretching into something unnatural—then the cracks took them, leaving no trace of the creature behind.

  Some of the goblins turned their heads, their deep-set golden eyes focusing on Alex for the first time. Their previously still forms shifted, a few adjusting their stances, others glancing at each other. Low, harsh voices began muttering in their guttural tongue, the strange, grinding syllables carrying a sense of uneasy acknowledgement. Where they had been indifferent, now their movements were sharp, their attention drawn completely to the figure who had just executed the devastating attack.

  Alex raised his blade, the steel twisting as two towering figures emerged—one burning with molten lines of red heat, the other cold, dark, and sharp as obsidian. They matched the hobgoblins in size, their forms rippling with power as they stood ready. He pointed at the green-skinned warriors. “Support my companions.”

  “Support them and kill the green ones.”

  Osric’s hand stretched out, and the air cracked as a massive warbow appeared in his grasp, the weapon’s string pulling taut with a ballista-sized bolt. Liora’s halberd flared red, its edge glowing with coursing blood magic, the jagged blade gleaming with violent energy. Alex reached into his Inventory, drawing a blade that lengthened as it settled into his hand. The three of them charged, followed by two demons. Osric broke to the side, loosing the siege bolt with a deafening thrum, the shockwave rippling through the battlefield as the bolt slammed into the green-skinned warriors.

  The creature wheezed, claws digging into its chest as it tore the massive bolt free, metallic skin shifting and thickening, wounds cracking and regrowing in real-time, its body slowly adapting and recovering before their eyes.

  Alex lunged forward, feet pivoting smoothly as his blade connected with a goblin’s side. The strike didn’t pierce; instead, it cracked the dark green skin, leaving a jagged line that steamed faintly. He ducked low, fist snapping upward into another’s jaw, then twisted, elbow connecting with the creature’s exposed ribs. The green-skinned warrior stumbled back, its balance faltering. Alex stepped through its guard, blade flashing again to send the creature staggering. He moved on before it could recover.

  How the hell is their skin tougher than that cut? If his stats didnt work, he would have to rely on his skills.

  No matter, he had already seen one die. "Abyssal swordsmen"

  Behind him, the world split as hooded figures diced it to nothing.

  His mana dipped prodigiously.

  [You have defeated level 1212 Hob-Goblin Knightkin - Evolved Variant - Unfinished (D). Bonus experience due to level difference. Bonus experience due to ‘Hero’ feat.]

  [Level 249 - 254]

  [Strength +12, Dexterity+12, intelligence+18, unassigned stats +12]

  [Class milestone x2 reached. Class milestone skills availa—.]

  Alex dismissed the notification as the remaining creatures moved in a blur. There was no time, and the creatures were too fast.

  He needed to buy himself a second. Just one.

  Another panel sprung into place.

  [Please make select—]

  He dismissed it. His demons were already moving. One wreathed in molten steel crashed forward, fists splitting the ground. The other struck like a blade, cutting at the nearest hob with cold, perfect control.

  Liora’s halberd carved a red streak low and fast, its edge dragging through the air as blood magic surged through the weapon. Osric’s siege bow groaned as it fired, the ballista bolt tearing through space and sound, its impact a sharp, concussive explosion.

  All-Knowing Cut.

  Alex barely needed to move. His blade rose. A line of searing white cut through the battlefield—a single stroke, clean, absolute. The creature in front of him collapsed mid-lunge, a line of plasma and blood burning into its writhing form before it had the chance to hit the ground.

  The rest of the green-skinned beings surged toward him. Speed blurred their shapes, their bodies moving so fast their figures appeared to stretch across the clearing, muscle and instinct throwing them forward in an instant.

  Alex exhaled and the world froze, his domain collapsed to to hold only him, Osric, and Liora.

  Time collapsed inward, stretching each movement until he stood in a world of statues— but he noticed with concern, that some of the creatures still moved.

  Then another panel sprung to life.

  [System Message: Choose Two of 4 Milestone Skills]

  [System Message: Sub-Class Acquired — Milestone has been influenced by your classes and achievements]

  He had failed to make a choice the last time he was presented with a Class milestone skill and had thought he had lost at least one of his milestones forever, only to now realise that it carried over for the next fifty levels, stacking into the next one.

  But now, there was no time.

  The world turned black as five creatures surged towards him.

  He would have to choose quickly.

  [D-Grade Class Milestone skill 1: Sovereign Cruci??????ble — (Active, Cool-down: 5 minutes, Duration: 5 minutes): Upon activation, the user designates a small ten-foot radius. All beings within are instantly pulled into a sealed pocket dimensional space drastically and temporarily evolved from the user's primary spatial skill, designation 'Inventory,' forcibly severing external life support, healing links, buffs, or reinforcements from summons and allies. Within the Crucible, all regenerative or healing effects are drastically weakened. Should any beings die in the crucible space, a small portion of their strength will be temporarily transferred to the user as a boost for a period equivalent to the crucible's maximum duration limit. Higher levels of mastery will allow the user to enlarge the radius and lead to increased or varied effects. This skill is heavily dependent on the 'Inventory' skill. Loss of the 'Inventory' skill will result in the loss of this skill.]

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  Alex quickly assessed the skill with hurried thoughts. Five minutes of isolation, no outside support. No reinforcements. No healing.

  Perfect for isolating. Even better if I'm outnumbered.

  [D-Grade Class Milestone skill 2: Blade Form — (Active, Cool-down: 5 minutes, Duration: 5 minutes): Upon activation, The user’s body fractures into countless thin blade fragments, still under their control. The user becomes invulnerable to any attacks not aimed at the single core blade fragment, which becomes especially fragile and can result in instant death. Damage dealt and the user's speed in this state will be multiplied by five-fold of the user's stats at the time of activation, and the durability of non-core blade fragments will be decreased tenfold. Higher levels of mastery allows for increased numbers of non-core blade fragments and more possibilities.]

  Invulnerability, he thought hurriedly, unaware of the world outside the panel. Five times faster, ten times weaker. If someone's stronger? One mistake, instant death.

  Not worth it.

  [D-Grade Class Milestone skill 3: Ascendant Surge — (Active, Cool-down: 1 Month): This skill is minimally derived from a Qi technique created by non-system entity designation 'S???????????????ca?????????????rle????????t De??????mon,' A warrior who condensed 7 years of Qi into one dying strike to split oceans and bisect continents. This skill allows the user to store Qi in an unstable system-maintained artificial dantian for the sole purpose of instantaneous release. Once charged sufficiently, the user can unleash a reconstruction of the original technique unleashing a potent shockwave or concentrated strike. Currently limited to one month period of storage. Higher levels of mastery will lead to greater possibilities. Attempts to utilise this additional Qi for additional purposes will result in catastrophic failure.]

  Powerful. Too powerful. One shot. One month gone. If it doesn't land, I still have my own Qi. But it's unstable.

  Unusable right now.

  A future advantage doesn’t win a fight that’s already happening.

  [D-Grade Class Milestone skill 4: Spirit Forge — (Active, Cool-down: 1 Week): This skill is minimally derived from non-system entity designation 'Q??????i?????? S?????a???g?????e??????,' from the remnants of a pre-imperial war, where the designated entities dying offensive application refined his Qi so densely that his final strike burned through terrain and left energy permanently fused into stone. Your Qi is continually refined by a specialized “Spirit-Forge” process. With each cycle of cultivation, a portion of your Qi becomes denser, sharper, and more potent. Over time, the user's spirit root increases in rank, power and potency, with the possibility to evolve, causing unpredictable and otherwise unachievable combinations of Qi elements, and allowing each unit of Qi to hit far harder than that of typical cultivators of the same cultivation stage level. Higher mastery will lead to greater more varied possibilities]

  Stronger Qi. Denser. Sharper. But not now. Not yet.

  But if I fix my pathways?

  But it could win against whatever's inside.

  [Grade D Skill: Sovereign Cruci??????ble (Active) selected!]

  [Grade D Skill: Spirit Forge (Active) selected!]

  Alex’s eyes snapped open. Three giants filled his vision, muscle and metal-green skin moving as one, their charge relentless. The metallic sheen of their bodies swallowed the light, casting him in a shifting shadow.

  The closest was already swinging. A blade like a cleaver, wide enough to carve through a man in one stroke, was less than half a breath from cutting him in two.

  Sovereign Crucible.

  The world fractured, peeled away, and reformed as Alex instinctively selected himself, Liora, Osric, and the nearest green-skinned warrior. Reality blurred at the edges, the figures dragged with him as space twisted, pulling them somewhere else.

  Liora landed mid-step, halberd already swinging. Osric’s mana flared, body shifting into motion before his mind could process the change. The green warrior’s blade was still falling, attack unbroken, instincts carrying it forward.

  Without questioning where they were or how they got there, each reacted instantly.

  Osric pulled back his bowstring. Three ballista bolts formed, massive and jagged. He fired. The release shattered the sound barrier, a concussive crack as they tore forward. Liora’s halberd burned, blood magic raging. She hurled it, the weapon a red blur, barely under her control. It shot forward, a molten streak.

  Alex moved with them. All-Knowing Cut flared, his blade carving through space itself. Steel, blood, and magic struck at once. The hob exploded apart, its torso split open, limbs torn free, and armour ruptured. It collapsed in a ruined heap, unrecognizable.

  [You have defeated level 1217 Hob-Goblin Knightkin - Evolved Variant - Unfinished (D). Bonus experience due to ‘Hero’ feat.]

  [Level 254 - 256]

  [Strength +8, Dexterity+8, intelligence+12, unassigned stats +8]

  Alex cut the skill off instantly. The world lurched, snapping back like stretched wire. To the creatures and the being before the temple, the three intruders and one of their own vanished for less than a moment. A blink, a stuttering frame, a break in motion that snapped back too fast to track. Then, only three remained.

  [Buff ‘Sovereign Cruci??????ble’ has temporarily absorbed 1% of the defeated's stats, boosting the user—All stats +33 for five minutes.]

  Before entering the city, facing one of these creatures would have been a battle for survival. Now that each fight to the centre had sharpened him, every kill carved something stronger from what he was. Strength was momentum, refinement, a process that had no end—only improvement.

  Alex felt it in his stance, in the ease of movement, in the way his mind measured the battle without hesitation. The way his domain enhanced every movement, defying physics and gravity with every twitch. The creatures closest to them, the ones sent to battle first were at a level that posed a real challenge, but with his skills and experience, they were no longer something they couldn't overcome.

  The ones closest to them moved with precision, efficient but not overwhelming. They were strong, fast, and adapted for war, but not beyond reach. The real threats stood further back, watching, gauging the fight before stepping in.

  Let them watch. Let them study and plan. Alex knew his strength, knew his level of technique, and knew that if anything gave him an opening, there was nothing here he couldn't cut down.

  The metallic sword demons clashed with the hobgoblins, molten claws locking against hardened blades, black steel-like metal grinding against reinforced skin as they pushed for advantage, their bladed tails whipping through the melee, one empowered by a powerful soul absorbing its damage. Liora’s halberd struck against an oncoming weapon, her stance shifting as she met the force head-on. Osric’s siege-bow fired, the supersonic shot ripping through the melee, the force of impact sending weapons skidding across the ground. Alex weaved through the chaos, sword flashing between strikes, pressing forward as the battle turned into a blur of steel, flesh, and motion.

  Alex watched the battlefield shift, read the movements, the patterns, the threats. Nearly thirty of them, stronger, faster, built from centuries of survival. They wouldn’t be taken down one at a time. One mistake, one opening, and they would overwhelm them. But they weren’t fighting alone, and they weren’t fighting fair.

  Lies kill faster than swords.

  Alex read the battlefield—outnumbered, surrounded, but not without options. The dead littered the ground, weapons still clutched in broken hands, armour split from battles already lost. His mind processed the pattern, the sheer volume, the potential he hadn’t considered until now. The bodies weren’t an obstacle. They were a weapon.

  “Laceration Bloom.”

  The corpses shifted, muscle reknitting, sinew stretching into long, bladed constructs that lashed outward. The hobgoblins reacted, some stepping back, others raising their weapons to block attacks that weren’t coming for them. That hesitation was all they needed.

  Osric fired. A supersonic bolt slammed through a staggered warrior, forcing another to brace for impact. Liora lunged, her Blood Halberd drinking deep as she carved through a distracted enemy, her weapon thriving in the chaos. The sword demons struck next, molten claws and cold metal carving through hardened flesh.

  One fell.

  [You have defeated level 1211 Hob-Goblin Knightkin - Evolved Variant - Unfinished (D). Bonus experience due to ‘Hero’ feat.]

  [Level 256 - 258]

  [Strength +8, Dexterity+8, intelligence+12, unassigned stats +8]

  Alex moved, Phoenix Cascade igniting beneath his feet, launching him forward before their formation could recover. Their defence was cracking. They had to push before the others reinforced. His sword flashed, another construct forming in the air beside him, another feint, another deception. A blow caught his side, and he felt the remnants soul the damage transferred to tremble.

  “Laceration Bloom. Abyssal Swordsmen. "

  Another green-skinned enemy fell in pieces, swallowed without a trace by his strange new skill.

  He used the skill once more, a strange sensation squirming within, growing with each use.

  [You have defeated...]

  [You have defeated...]

  [Level 258 - 266]

  [Strength +32, Dexterity+32, intelligence+48, unassigned stats +32]

  Abyssal Swordsmen was a powerful skill, but it took away too much—much more than any of his other skills. He could feel it instinctively, despite his large reserves. Around six more uses, and his mana would dip beyond recovery.

  That was problematic but manageable.

  For now.

  Alex cut one down in a breath, but the next caught his blade, strength forcing him back. Liora’s halberd found a weak point, dropping one, but another stepped in, pressing her on the defensive. Osric’s shots shattered armour, staggering some, but the strongest barely slowed. The sword demons carved through flesh, yet some still stood, wounds sealing as they fought harder. Every kill took effort—every moment shifted between swift execution and brutal, grinding survival.

  Osric fired, reloading fast. “We’re not killing them fast enough.”

  Liora blocked a strike, gritting her teeth. “Then hit harder.”

  Alex ducked a blade, countering with a shallow cut. “Or last longer.”

  There were too many enemies. Too many angles, too many weapons. One mistake meant bleeding. Another meant dying. Defence alone wouldn't hold against the sheer force pressing down on them. His sword wasn't enough. He needed more.

  Alex held his ground, sword raised, senses stretched to their limit. His domain pulsed, reading movement, predicting attacks before they landed. He felt the edges of space within it—thin, pliable, waiting to be cut. He tested it, driving his blade forward, not at an enemy, but into the fabric of reality itself.

  The metal warped in his grip, adapting to his will, his domains sword attracting force in play. He altered the density, reshaped the edge, let his domain twist the path of his swing. The attack bent, deflecting a strike meant for Osric, then snapped back into place, carving through another.

  Liora lashed out, cutting a gap through the press of bodies. "Did you just—"

  "Yes," Alex cut her off, already moving. A second strike, sharper, faster, impossible for them to predict. He caught another incoming blow, redirected it, turned defence into an opening.

  Osric fired, arrows shattering armour. "Whatever it was, keep doing it." Osric exhaled. “That skill better hold.”

  Alex merely grunted in response. He had no idea how long it would.

  They fought. They struggled.

  Osric and Liora stood back to back, weapons raised, magic flaring. Alex and his sword demons moved like shadows around them intercepting strikes, twisting through gaps, and working together to cut down anything that got too close.

  Until, finally, only five remained.

  [You have defeated...]

  [You have defeated...]

  [...]

  [Level 266 - 294]

  [Strength +152, Dexterity+152, intelligence +228, unassigned stats +152]

  Four of the strongest green-skinned warriors. And something else entirely.

  Just five. Four enemies that refused to fall to their blows, and one that hadn't even looked at them.

  It was then that the figure on the throne finally regarded them, one brow rising slightly, as if surprised they were still alive—and at the destruction they had collectively wrought.

  Bracelets and rings adorned its wrists and fingers, fused into its skin like relics embedded in flesh, each one humming with the residual energy of a god long forgotten.

  Jewelry adorned his wrists, neck, and fingers—golden rings shaped with designs too intricate to have been crafted by mortal hands, arm cuffs engraved with celestial inscriptions, a heavy sash at his waist, studded with gems that flickered like dying stars.

  The slight movements of its pupils suggested it saw more than just the present—it processed layers of reality at once, perceiving details unseen by lesser beings.

  The severed arm still hung from one clawed hand—now only a forearm—the limb of a hero, the last remnants of a battle that had ended before it had even begun.

  It bit down.

  Bone cracked between razor-edged teeth. Flesh was consumed in slow, methodical bites.

  And with every piece it swallowed, its muscles tightened, wings stretching imperceptibly with growth.

  The process was visible—cells adjusting, structure reinforcing, the act of consumption directly feeding into further adaptation.

  It was not eating for sustenance.

  It was eating for evolution.

  "A city built for gods, now reduced to a battlefield for the unworthy," it mumbled so low that only Alex's enhanced hearing heard it.

  Alex's eyes stayed on the figure. "What is that?"

  Osric swallowed hard. "A demigod. Or a Djinn. I’m not sure."

  Liora’s halberd trembled in her hands. She exhaled sharply, adjusting her grip, and raised it, standing firm.

  Then a blinding light flared at the gate behind them, reality twisting as Faelir and Vaylen stepped through. Their sleek, inhuman forms stood rigid, drenched in blood. Survivors stumbled behind them—beaten, weary, barely standing—but the two at the forefront looked anything but spent. Their eyes burned red, twin beacons that cut through the haze of battle.

  Their forms had changed—armor strained against swollen, unnatural muscle, flesh warped beyond human limits. Their weapons, dented and chipped, bore the scars of a battle fought inch by inch, their hands twisted into thick, clawed talons, their jaws no longer human but lined with rows of elongated fangs.

  All present saw them for what they truly were.

  The thing rose from its throne, wings unfurling as it took a step forward, flanked by its strongest—

  The light at the entrance flashed again,

  And when it faded?

  Magnus Thorne stood there.

  His boots crunched over bodies, but he didn’t look down. He was there, as if reality had adjusted itself to include him. His long coat hung heavy, fabric slick with fresh blood that hadn’t dried yet. A gun rested in his hand, but his fingers were loose on the grip, indifferent, holding it like an afterthought.

  His eyes swept the space. He took in the carnage, the destruction, the bodies. Then he grinned, tilting his head like he was working out a crick in his neck. Then he spoke.

  "Vault of Lives — Trade: One Million Souls."

  Something shifted as the words escaped him. Everyone felt it—not in space, but in existence itself. The weight of countless unseen lives collapsed inward, swallowed by a force with no shape.

  Magnus exhaled, slow, savouring the moment like a man sipping the best drink in the world. Then his grin sharpened.

  "You're all fucked."

  He moved to speak again, but this time, his voice warped, layered with something vast, something old, and something that had no right speaking through him. The sound crawled through the world, bending it at the seams.

  "Divine Skill — Deification: The God of Magic."

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