Chapter 104: Chapter 104

“Zealot. Long have I waited for this moment,” Orodan said, floating forward in the void with his sword and shield drawn. “I see you are changed in mind and soul.”

“Time looper. Your comrade’s profound abilities in artistry have allowed me to see the truth of what must occur. I must thank that man when I get to meet him,” the bipedal Fallen Void Archon spoke. “For too long was I blinded by the madness of the truth. My own mind too weak to see clearly what provenance wants. But now… I see. Our benefactor who shelters us does not want its essence ruining the beauty of all life within its sanctuary. The glory of it vision must be preserved, and in my maniacal devotion I had forgotten to pay heed to this. I now realize my error. I have retracted our saviour’s loving but harmful touch from as many corners of the cosmos as I could. And with that skill of yours… I see now why our lord has chosen you, Orodan Wainwright. Come. I have secured the borders of the sanctuary we all dwell in using the power of the Mantle.

Orodan’s face ran through a dozen different expressions before finally settling upon confusion.

“Have you lost your wits at last? Has all that preaching of the truth finally looped around to turn you good?” Orodan asked. “What are you asking?”

What in the hells had Edrosic’s drawing done?

“Do not be so surprised, time looper. Having seen the intent of what my lord desires, I am emboldened and empowered, my mind clear of unnecessary worries and weakness thanks to your ally. Together, we may work to purge the entirety of the System space of my lord’s harmful power. That we might all live in genuine harmony.”

Only now did Orodan understand what Edrosic had really done. All those loops the militia man had spent working alongside Balastion Novar and Alovardo Balmento, and how Balastion himself had acquired Eldritch Mastery.

Long, long ago, he had told Balastion that the key to overcoming the madness of the Eldritch was in remembering who you really were. But those were mere words, and Orodan was not capable of making people see things the way some could.

And although Balastion had spoken very little of the process of how he had acquired the Eldritch Mastery, the man’s eyes had been possessed of a wisdom and clarity that he had never seen before. At the time he’d merely chalked it up to insights… but how had the first emperor acquired that insight?

How had the Prophet, an Administrator, suddenly been freed of the maddening influence of the taint?

The answer was simple.

The profound artist had not only been working with Balastion, but he had also worked with Alovardo Balmento, one of the few people who retained his own mind and agency despite the corruption. The connection drew itself.

Parthus must have gotten the insights which allowed him to reclaim someone’s mind by working alongside that nutcase.

And here and now, Orodan had never felt more guilty for harboring a hateful desire to murder someone before.

The Prophet, for all intents and purposes, was now an entirely normal and reasonable being. The former zealot’s words sounded almost benevolent! It simply wanted the same thing the Eldritch Boundless One did, which was for all the inhabitants of System space to live without fear of corruption.

It was entirely normal.

Orodan should have agreed with it. And he did.

But he also intended to break something the Prophet had reinforced.

So it was with the utmost guilt in his heart that Orodan pointed his sword at the Administrator anyways.

“It seems that Edrosic’s abilities are so profound that they can redeem even you. Though reformed you may be, you and I are still at odds with one another.”

“Have you gone mad? Have you forsaken your duty as the time looper? Or does your past enmity with me from prior loops blind you to what needs to be done for the greater good?” it calmly and icily said, no rage in its voice.

“I have forsaken nothing, for I agreed to nothing in the first place. These loops were thrust upon me without accord or explanation,” Orodan fired back. “And although I mistrust you even now, it is not our past battles and enmity which drive me. It is the fact that I need to breach the boundaries of System space.”

“…I see. You are one of the enemy’s champions then. One who wishes naught but destruction upon those who shelter under the grace and guidance of provenance?”

“That thing outside System space?” Orodan spat. “I have tasted its wrath and found it wanting. I’ll kill it too when the time comes. No… this is for purely selfish reasons. This is because I need to bring someone back. And you and that Mantle are standing in the way.”

He felt the rippling of the dimensional boundary around him, a final act from Talricto, Almyra, Alagameth and Destartes to separate the two of them and place them in a dimension as far from the material plane as possible. Good. Now Orodan had no qualms about causing senseless collateral damage.

They were in some desolate and abandoned plane of existence. There was no energy here whatsoever. No matter at all besides a pitch void. Hells, it couldn’t even be called a void, for even that had something in it. A darkness, or an absence of light and matter. This place was of a color that couldn’t be described with word and made the human part of his mind gag, as though it wanted to recoil and run away. A realm of utter non-existence whose dimensional boundaries bordered other energy-rich planes, making it very sturdy, yet one which had nothing in it whatsoever.

The perfect battleground.

The purple-gray armor wrapped around the Administrator pulsed ominously. Its control over the Eldritch seemed far superior to what he remembered facing even in the last long loop upon Lonvoron. As did its control over the dimension of light which was no longer tainted by Eldritch. The Mantle it bore, the scepter it wielded, all of them looked far deadlier now that the madness was gone from its eyes.

Edrosic had taken an already difficult foe and turned it into an almost insurmountable mountain for him.

He had trained long and hard for the past five loops, but that had been under the expectation of facing the Prophet at its regular strength. Here and now, even with all the gains he’d accrued, could he truly do it?

The hardest battle of all Orodan’s loops was before him.

Man against empowered Administrator. Human against a divine merged with an elemental plane itself.

“I cannot allow you to do this. That invading monstrosity would see us all crushed, bound to its horrible planes of torture and drained of all joy and emotion for eternity,” the Prophet resolutely declared. “Have you ever seen how life is upon its wicked body? How the tormented souls continualy cry out for salvation? And how the broken ones are aberrations which should not exist? I cannot allow such a foul thing into our reality.”

“I will not let it come to that,” Orodan countered. “But I see you and I are at odds and neither of us will budge. Come then, Prophet… show me the depths of your resolve!”

His Celestial skill wouldn’t be as effective either when it had that Mantle which seemed a direct font to the energy of the Eldritch Boundless One.

This would be a fight which took everything he had, and perhaps even some more.

This was no opponent he could play around with. Immediately, he sank into the trance of Combat Mastery, and called Logistics to the fore to do its work.

It dragged a whole slew of skills into a huddle to work together. The mighty power of a Burst Cast Draconic Fireball, using both Fire Mastery and Fire Magic Mastery came together to fuel his Elemental Living Enchanting. Furthermore, a Lightning Bolt worked to form defensive enchantments upon his skin, meant to make him tougher. And it was all unleashed with a Smite of Abrupt Deliverance, pointing his sword towards the Prophet in a deadly thrust which would have destroyed hundreds of star systems.

[Burst Casting 74 → Burst Casting 76]

[Draconic Fireball 97 → Draconic Fireball 98]

[Fire Mastery 43 → Fire Mastery 44]

[Fire Magic Mastery 78 → Fire Magic Mastery 79]

[Elemental Living Enchantment 55 → Elemental Living Enchantment 57]

[Lightning Bolt 60 → Lightning Bolt 61]

[Smite of Abrupt Deliverance 99 → Smite of Abrupt Deliverance 100]

All his skills had grown tremedously over the course of this singular extended battle of titanic proportions. He was a Time Grandmaster now, which made the Time Compression aspect of his Smite of Abrupt Deliverance far stronger too. He was a Physical Transcendent, with a far sturdier form thanks to Iron Body and had made many advancements in Body Tempering. And his flames were more powerful too.

It was not unreasonable to assume that if he had already dealt Kharadun Voidfortress a fatal blow while weaker, this should have been a dire blow to take for the Prophet who was stronger than the King of Kings but not by too much.

Unfortunately, that reason did not hold up under the power of an Administrator’s Mantle wielded by a Prophet who was whole of mind and body and wielding its power with determination.

Not only was its clear mind a boon to it in combat. But its old mad zealotry had now converted to a righteous determination to prevent Orodan from allowing a dangerous foreign Boundless One into System space. Which meant that unlike last time where its resolve was weak, this time it fought like a being possessed.

[Warrior’s Reciprocity 98 → Warrior’s Reciprocity 99]

The lightning-based defensive enchantments coursing through his flesh were the only thing which saved him from complete annihilation. His attack was blown backwards and Orodan sent flying like a beam of light through the expanse of oblivion that was this freakish plane. He was a burning pile husk of flesh, charred and with crackling light and System energy lingering off his form. Thankfully not reduced to a handful of cells like he often found himself, but still utterly overpowered.

Despite all his advancements, he had felt it during that clash. He had only matched a fourth of the Prophet’s newfound power.

Ridiculous. But it was a challenge which had his blood boiling for battle and his heart yearning for war. For where else would Orodan Wainwright be truly satisfied if not a battle where he was the inferior?

“Tch! You are powerful… you might have defeated me when I was yet under the grips of that madness, but no longer. Think, Orodan Wainwright. There has never been a time looper of your power, and still you insist on this course of action? With your power all the world cores of our cosmos could be purged, a new golden age ushered in!” the Prophet shouted, attempting to get through to him with logic. “I have kept the others from approaching us for a while now, but even I cannot delay them forever. The Mage would see you killed, his hatred of our beneficial lives under the System is well-concealed but apparent to the wise. The Reject would kill you on principle of being too useful to our savior. And the Warrior would execute you for all the mayhem and loss of life you have caused.”

Little wonder why nobody else had shown up. The feeling of guilt for having to cross blades with someone genuinely reformed and trying to work with him for a righteous cause stung just a bit deeper at that. But being so close to his goal, Orodan would not relent. The Prophet’s mind was clear and focused on achieving harmony for all of System space, but its goals were not entirely identical to his.

For Orodan, the System was an oppressive force which kept God locked in their roles as servants. Corrupted world cores and everything eventually. Yes, thanks to Edrosic both he and the zealot now had the same end goal which was to ensure everyone lived in peace, but the Prophet ignored the divines who would still suffer under the System’s yoke.

And having come as far as he had, he was not willing to compromise on even the smallest thing.

And with that, a furious melee began.

Orodan used Endless Blitz in tandem with all of his melee skill. Yet still it wasn’t enough.

The Prophet’s Mantle allowed it to channel a frankly terrifying amount of power, a tap directly leading to the Eldritch Boundless One itself. A tool which could process and then unleash the raw energy of that unfathomable being at the user’s will. His only saving grace otherwise would have been the fact that Administrators typically didn’t want to use the Mantle excessively lest the item suffer overload and fail to purify the energy, leading to corruption.

Of course, for the Prophet whose corruption had begun in the first place due to excessive use of the Mantle… it mattered not. Not when it now retained its mind wholly and clearly despite the taint.

Futhermore, as he received blow after blow he realized that despite being the more skilled melee fighter and physically stronger than this Administrator now, he was still being overwhelmed due to the simple fact that it was fighting far smarter and maintaining range from him while peppering Orodan with blasts from its Mantle, beams of light and glowing golden eyes indicating the use of fate reading to predict his next moves.

And given how he was being outmaneuvered and his moves responded to three steps ahead of time, the Prophet was a monstrous fate reader when its mind was devoid of distractions

It also didn’t want to kill him, but imprison him, given the number of attempts at forming cages of light or System energy around him.

“Does your power have no limit? You and that entire world you come from are unnatural! To produce a Celestial talent, an artist who can peer right into peoples’ very beings and a time looper such as yourself,” the Prophet remarked, pausing the fight for a moment. “Once I have you under heel, I shall have to look closer at your planet. If you will not cooperate… then perhaps someone else from there can be guided into becoming the next time looper.”

The Prophet didn’t know yet that Orodan had taken over the loops and empowered them himself. But he didn’t care.

All he could think when the Administrator spoke of guiding someone from Alastaia…

For as Orodan watched, entirely too calm in the real world as his parents were slain. So too did the three-month-old Orodan in the past watch, not an emotion visible upon his face. Even as the blood of his parents spattered upon him.

…was how the Custodian had orchestrated the death of his mother and father and set Orodan upon the course he was on today.

How Fenton’s mother had been stricken with an incurable disease due to the very Prophet before him. Like how Almyra began each loop with the exact same curse due to no fault of her own.

Would Edrosic be next? Was the man’s suffering in an alternate timeline not enough? Would it be Aliya? Zukelmux? Wainroach?

Orodan was done with the System and the manipulative players who sought to use or counter its time loops.

“Guided into becoming the next time looper?” he asked, voice low and dangerous, something hot and ugly rearing its head within him. “Like how you ruined Fenton and Almyra’s lives?”

“I know not the names of these two who-”

“Almyra was anointed before me. And Fenton was meant to be the next,” Orodan sharply cut off, rage and a strange feeling bubbling around him. “Your fate manipulations were successful. You cursed both people related to the time loops. Is that how you intend to guide the next looper?”

“I will bear my sins while maddened for the rest of my existence. But you cannot deny that such manipulations are but a trifle when compared to the cosmic harmony at stake. After all… the Custodian’s manipulations created you.”

So it seemed that the Prophet did know more about him after all. Likely from inquiries made after their encounter at Lonvoron.

“I had thought you reformed. Redeemed. But it seems a mad zealot will always remain a mad zealot, even if the mask of it changes,” Orodan spat, raising his weapons in defiance, the aura of violence beginning to form around him. “And a violent street rat will always remain a violent street rat no matter how many time loops he goes through. Come, Prophet, let me show you the monster your ilk have successfully made.”

Orodan rushed forward, only to be sent flying right into a cage of light once more. He broke out easily enough, but the Prophet merely snorted.

“You are arrogant. Do you think me without recourse? I read the portents and your destiny with every passing instant. Do not think I am unaware of the mangled nature of your soul, and how it lacks the touch of provenance. I would have slain you on the spot for being a champion of the enemy if not for the signs of anointment upon you,” the Administrator explained all too calmly. “For long have I defended our sanctuary against the foreign invader’s champions. Do not think your trick of removing yourself from the System’s tapestry of fate will avail you against me. Even without the tapestry, many champions of the outsiders have fallen before me.”

“And now you shall learn why relying upon the tapestry against me is a bad idea.”

As Orodan said, a zealot would always be a zealot.

Similarly, he would always be a street rat.

One who was born of and defined by one thing…

So he called upon that exceedingly odd power, although calling upon it would have been the wrong term. It was as though he was it. Something that had always been inside of him, slowly developed and honed through all the conflict he’d been in throughout his life.

And with a mad gleam in his eyes, Orodan punched outward, nowhere near the Prophet. yet still managing to strike the Administrator.

Not upon its face or body…

[Unarmed Combat Mastery 113 → Unarmed Combat Mastery 114]

[Combat Mastery 148 → Combat Mastery 149]

…but upon its very sight within the tapestry of fate itself.

A horrid wail echoed out, the first true cry of pain the Prophet had let out since the battle began.

“How?! What foul trick is this?!”

It was no trick. It was simple violence. Something he begrudgingly had to give credit to Agathor for inspiring in him. Yet he had taken it a step beyond what the Inuanan God of War could ever hope to.

He had targeted nothing physical. What he had instead done was feel and aim for the very metaphysical notion of sight that the Administrator held within the tapestry of fate, effectively giving it a black eye.

And as anyone who had been in a brawl knew, catching a stiff punch to the eye could make it swell up quite a bit.

But the Prophet was no weak-willed fool, not since Edrosic had awakened something powerful within it. The Administrator gritted its teeth and simply powered through, resuming its sight upon the tapestry of fate. It was ready now, reading not just Orodan’s direct attacks against it, but also his actions in the metaphysical domain.

…only to helplessly eat another punch right to its metaphysical vision.

It doubled over in pain but instinctually channeled its Mantle, drawing copious amounts of power through it to unleash.

Simply for Orodan tofinally close the distance successfully, holding the Mantle… and then snapping the neck of the very connection between Mantle and Eldritch Boundless One fueling it.

The power of violence… was as absurd as it was strong.

The Prophet gasped as he and Orodan tumbled through the air of this eerie dimension, locked in a grapple with one another. The Mantle it held was fine visually, but provided no power for a moment, which shocked it as Orodan pummelled the Administrator with his now superior physical strength.

However he had yet to properly consolidate all the insights he had been honing over the past many loops of grinding. This wouldn’t be enough.

Already he could see the connection between the Mantle and Boundless reforming, the result of not having properly tapped into this conceptual power of his fully. And he could see the Prophet’s vision over the tapestry returning as well.

Furthermore, it was actively summoning light beam after light beam upon him. Having felt the danger of continuing to try and capture him alive, it had decided that death was the easier option.

Multiple wormholes to outside of System space tore open, the Administrator attempting to shove Orodan into at least one of them and end his life.

Despite his strength, despite the violence… he felt that this still wouldn’t be enough. The Prophet was tough when it had access to the System and wasn’t damaged by a quantity of lethal acid which could obliterate star systems. Sooner or later, one of these wormholes would catch him, like a fish hitting a net, and then the Administrator would see fit to end him, thinking the loops no longer applying.

But even if Orodan returned to Ogdenborough, even if the Prophet failed in the end… he had come so far! He was so close!

He refused to fail here. This loop, he had to win, even if it was against a full-power Administrator who had received an upgrade strengthening it further.

The insights he had gathered and been working on would not be enough. Not against this empowered foe.

And so he, with his newly acquired Time Grandmastery aiding him, and the full power of his soul behind it…

…Orodan threw his all into exploring alternate timelines in the tapestry of fate.

Specifically, different versions of himself.

[Fate Mastery 38 → Fate Mastery 45]

[Reality Alteration 90 → Reality Alteration 91]

His consciousness entered the river of time. That grand thing which affected everyone and everything within System space. Including himself.

He had done it once before, going seventeen years back. So it wasn’t difficult when he reached the point in the timeline where the Custodian intervened and arranged for his parents to die. A day which had shaped him into the warrior he was today.

Ovuru World-Drinker had barely a moment to think before the power of violence separated his head from his shoulders, and Orodan, in tandem with Time Reversal and Fate Mastery, explored the different timelines from this point onward.

Ones where his mother and father both lived.

He had been to almost all of these before. The first was simple enough, a time where his parents both moved to Velestok, his mother Valburga joining the Simarji house guard and becoming a respected Elite-level warrior while his father Hathradan became a skilled herbalist who worked their forest preserves.

Under the familial kinship of the warm House Simarji, Orodan grew up loved, cherished and with family, home and needs met.

A martial prodigy whose talents were recognized early on, the young man was quickly groomed to be a talent from a young age. But besides that, besides beating Claridin Rockwood in the semifinals of the Inter-Academy Tournament and then losing to the divine-channeling Othorion Evertree. Besides the fact that this Orodan had failed and died in the end during his first fight against the Eldritch Avatar, becoming corrupted and stripped of the loops…

…one habit this one had, was that he enjoyed taking walks with Adeltaj Simarji every morning. Long hikes through the Aenechean Forest where disciple and master conversed at length about the meaning of life and the martial path.

It was sweet. And it was exactly where the real Orodan tore a path open into, his fist and the concept of violence intruding upon this odd hypothetical place. With Reality Alteration bringing temporary existence to this alternate time, he entered.

The alternate Adeltaj’s halberd immediately unfurled, the old Simarji taking a protective stance and ushering the other Orodan behind him. Personally, he thought it incredibly weak that this Orodan would allow another to step in front of him when battle came. Yes, he was being judgemental, but this other fool bore the name Orodan Wainwright and had their shared reputation to maintain!

“Who are you?” Adeltaj calmly asked.

“Master Adeltaj, please allow me to-”

“No! I sense it, this man is monstrous, and… by the Gods… he wears your face… such anger! A demon of rage?”

Orodan frowned at that. Just because the alternate Orodan didn’t have a perpetually angry-looking face like the real him did didn’t mean Adeltaj got to judge.

“Old man, step aside. I come for your student,” the real Orodan spoke, looking his alternate self up and down with a scrutinizing look. “Soft and coddled. But I suppose you cannot be blamed for that when you never went through the things I did… or we do, in the real world.”

“The real… world? What do you mean? Why do you wear my face?” the alternate Wainwright asked.

“I am you from the real timeline. Where both our mother and father are slain by a Guzuharan raid during their caravan journey to Velestok,” Orodan explained. “And while your… gentle upbringing has led to certain deficiencies, so too has my rough and uneducated life caused some shortcomings.”

Adeltaj kep his halberd protectively raised, but did not look as though he was about to attack now that hostility seemed less likely.

“A world without mother and father… can it be? I sense it, stranger. You are strong. Stronger than I ever thought possible…” the other Orodan said.

“Do not think too hard on it. This is after we enter the time loops.”

“As I said, do not think too hard on it. It is confusing and will only become more so once you die for the first time,” the real Orodan explained. “Now, although this will sound quite unlike me to recommend, I shall say it anyhow. You are not me. Once you enter the time loops, do not fight the Eldritch directly. As much as this plagues me to say… you may need to… may need to… strategize.”

The alternate Orodan had not a clue what he was saying nor the reason why he struggled so much in getting that final word out.

The joys of a regular upbringing.

“I see… but why have you come here? Is it perhaps, to train me?” the other Wainwright asked.

“No. And I doubt it would matter since this is a false reality anyhow, a mere conjuration of the power of my soul. Instead… I have come to learn from you. Will you teach me how to walk?”

The other Wainwright must have thought it a joke. A version of himself strong enough to contend with an Administrator, and he was asking the Elite-level Orodan how to walk?

But it was no joke. For the real Orodan never had leisure in his steps or a joy for walking the way this one did. He had only picked up the skill thanks to Old Man Hannegan and being forced to engage in deeper introspection about it. Prior to that, fighting advancement and fixing the problems which came his way were too much of a priority to ever allow himself a relaxing walk to clear the mind.

So, as flummoxed as the other Wainwright seemed, the prodigy of House Simarji taught him. And they simply walked. And as they walked, Orodan felt a resonance within his soul.

Different as the other was, it was still him in a sense. Something which allowed him to pick up the levels shockingly fast. He used the burgeoning concept of violence too, literally wrangling insights and instructions delivered from the other’s mouth into his own mind. A display which horrified the alternate Orodan and Adeltaj.

And by the end of it, he received a final message.

[Walking 69 → Walking 70]

With that, Orodan moved on, searching for the next alternate timeline while reading through the tapestry of fate from the moment of his parents’ survival.

[Fate Mastery 45 → Fate Mastery 47]

[Fate Reading 64 → Fate Reading 65]

He perused various other timelines. Many of them tragic, where he failed to reach his true potential, others just disappointing and embarrassing, where he became a drunk, criminal or a womanizer. Yet, much to his embarrassment and utter horror, it was the alternate Orodan in a timeline where he did naught but chase skirts who had the skill he needed.

The Orodan of this timeline had not been mentored under House Simarji, but House Firesword. Valburga had joined with them instead of the Simarjis and that had led to her son becoming a spoiled by power, privilege and luxury once his talents were noticed.

Worst of all, this Orodan would often get into trouble and be forced into punitive duties by House Firesword as a measure of keeping him reined in.

Thus, it was in Trumbetton’s fanciest tavern that the real Orodan tore his way into this false alternate reality.

The place was so packed and noisy that virtually nobody noticed, drunk or engaged in revelry as they were.

“Barkeep! Another! We can’t leave these new friends of mine without drink in their mugs!”

“Of course my lord, another round for Volarbury County’s greatest prodigy,” the barkeep said, and then muttered under his breath. “Damned blue-blood…”

He could see why too, for this Orodan had his arm around the barkeeper’s daughter, who should have been working. And the positioning was beyond inappropriate for a mere ‘friend’. That the lecher also had his other arm around a giggling half-elf didn’t help matters.

Frankly, it disgusted him more than it should have. Coming from the utter lack of anything good that the real Orodan had, the sight of a version of him being spoiled and entitled caused something bitter to brew within. Miserable as it sounded, in that moment a part of him was grateful for the poverty and struggle of being an orphaned street rat.

Better that than turn out waste of skin.

Even Zaessythra was more than a little repulsed at the sight of this other Wainwright sitting at a tavern’s counter, numerous empty bottles nearby while he sweet talked two women into joining him at his personal manor. He couldn’t care less about the man’s personal affairs, but the sheer arrogance and disregard for others that this version of him walked around with, that indulgent look of hedonism… it sickened him in a way even the Eldritch could not.

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Then, the tavern doors swung open, and the sight of a most enraged woman almost as tall as he, caused everyone to still.

The real Orodan’s heart wrenched at the sight of his mother. Alive, healthy, and an Elite. But also exceedingly angry.

“Orodan Wainwright!” she roared, her voice then calmed to a dangerously saccharine tone. “My dear boy. Might I ask why you have missed your training with elder Arvayne?”

“Erm… that is…” the pathetic fool stuttered. “I was hoping to explore additional avenues of training?”

Valburga’s fury was a vicious thing. And he had to wonder if his natural violence in combat had its roots from there.

The woman had the lecherous imposter—for in no way could this disgusting fop be worthy of bearing the name of Orodan Wainwright—dragged out by the collar and towards a work site. The real Orodan silently followed, Valburga too angry to notice him yet. Within minutes, she practically threw the false Wainwright towards someone whose identity surprised him.

“Mister Hannegan. Put this wastrel to work immediately please,” Valburga demanded as politely as she could.

Whether mere chance or genuine fate, it seemed the old man was fated to be in Orodan’s life somehow. Perhaps those with Celestial potential gravitated towards one another?

“Right. Same duty as always boy, go tow those carts. Who else in the county can say their Towing skill is at the Elite-level?”

“Only one who’s forced into the same duty almost every day like he is,” Valburga angrily added, icily overseeing the training.

That was… until she finally noticed Orodan looming over her.

“What the- who’re you? Can’t just sneak up on me like that, might deck you… what in the hells? Orodan?”

“Y-yes mother?” the imposter called out.

“Not you! Back to work, boy!” she scolded and then turned back.

The woman had to look back and forth between the wastrel of this timeline and the real him. Her eyes narrowed and she was about to draw her sword thinking him some manner of demon when he instead interrupted all of that by pulling the woman into a hug.

“Forgive me mother,” Orodan spoke, his voice full of longing and pain. “But I cannot bring you back. Not yet. Not when I have so much to do.”

“Y-you… I should be giving you a beating here and now! But you sound so much like my son…”

“I am him. And he… unfortunate as his spoiled upbringing has made him… is me. And I have come to learn from him,” Orodan said, finally pulling away. “Wastrel. Will you teach me Towing?”

“M-me? And who do you dare to call a wastrel?! I am Volarbury County’s greatest prodigy, the cream of the crop! Burgher Ignatius and elder Arvayne themselves-”

Orodan’s fist knocked the air out of the weakling, making the man bend over and fall to his knees.

“Soft; getting forced to your knees by a mere Adept-level strike. Retaining breath despite an impact is a fundamental martial skill. You have been skipping your training. If you truly sparred regularly with Arvayne Firesword I know he would not allow you to be so deficient. I should know, he trained me after all.”

The other Orodan took great gulps of air, but was angered at his scathing truths.

“What the hells would you know? That old monster drives me into the ground!” the man barked out from below. “And why do you wear my face? Are you a demon? The Cathedral will see you exorcised for this!”

“A demon? No. I am you from a time where there is no Hathradan and Valburga and we grow up an orphaned street rat in Ogdenborough,” he calmly said, watching the man’s face go through multiple stages of processing that revelation. “And you complain about an opportunity which would help cure these shortcomings you have. Talent is no excuse to avoid hard work. You are deficient in mindset and toughness… but I am deficient in Towing.”

“You are from an alternate time then? That sounds preposterous… it cannot be real.”

“Unfortunately, it is as real as the time loops you are anointed for shall be.”

“Do not worry about that. Come, let me tow these carts of stone and lumber alongside you. Perhaps I may yet learn something from a wastrel.”

Thus, Orodan soundlessly joined the womanizing version of him. And it was a bit surprising to see how good the man was at pulling carts. Not just physicality, but sheer laziness ensured that the man knew the ins-and-outs of how to most effectively handle a punitive duty he was regularly assigned.

They towed carts, the real Orodan absorbed the insights with utterly shocking speed and he also pounded the insights into his own mind with the concept of violence.

[Towing 74 → Towing 76]

That timeline he moved on from eventually as well.

Now, the furious and determined tendrils of the Prophet’s own Fate Mastery were wisping through the path Orodan had created to the past. The Administrator saw what he was doing and seemed hells-bent on stopping him.

Which meant he only had enough time for one more alternate timeline.

It would have to be enough, and it needed to be a timeline where the Orodan knew more about the skills he had then the real him did.

[Fate Mastery 47 → Fate Mastery 49]

[Fate Reading 65 → Fate Reading 68]

Searching for a specific timeline where he had certain skills was difficult. Still, he was the same individual with the same propensity towards certain things. Nurture mattered, but so too did nature. So eventually, with copious amounts of searching, he managed to find a timeline where the Orodan Wainwright had the skills he was looking for.

A timeline where the young man had found not fighting or Cleaning early on…

This Orodan had picked up a hammer and chisel before ever picking up a sword. And Hathradan had of course encouraged him throughout his youth, and although Valburga thought learning some manner of fighting was important she didn’t disapprove of him going down the route of a crafter.

It was… exceedingly alien to see a timeline where he didn’t fight at all. In fact, every other timeline he’d seen, Orodan was still schooled in some manner of combat. Be it sword, spear, halberd, club or fist. Fighting was what he did.

But watching this Orodan, not schooled or ready for combat at all was a surprising feeling.

Yet not a disappointing one.

The craftsman’s hammer hit the rock over and over, his muscles aching with exertion and sweat pouring off him in droplets. Yet this crafter Orodan simply kept going. In his eyes, determination.

This Orodan, despite being a craftsman, was a hard worker.

And said hard worker was laboring under instruction from Old Man Hannegan and a young woman he’d not seen before. The lot of them were toiling to construct a grand castle. And it was the alternate Orodan’s stonework that was contributing to the majority of its quality. Quality which was honestly approaching that of Varnok Grimbreaker.

“Alright, now keep shaping that section and bring it in line with the archway! Good job Orodan!” Old Man Hannegan praised, looking satisfied.

Father…?! Hells, even the old foreman’s face turned red and a tear came to his eye when that word had been uttered by the other Wainwright.

“Orodan…” an exceedingly soft and gentle voice called out. It belonged to the young woman. “You cannot just openly call him father… it will cause him to go light-headed my love.”

“Of course, but I see the man as another father, what is the shame in it?”

“You… Orodan…” Old Man Hannegan stuttered. “Ugh… who would have thought marrying my daughter off to you would lead to such trouble for me? You are too sentimental and kind-hearted, lad!”

Although with the way the old man said it, he didn’t consider either of those to be bad traits.

And marrying off his daughter? So this was the old man’s child who he kept secret all this time? What an odd timeline indeed.

It was this odd time and place that Orodan tore his way into.

The other Wainwright, though not ready for a fight, stood protectively between him and Old Man Hannegan’s daughter. And the old foreman himself had a Mana Bolt in his hands, utterly basic magic, but still ready to defend his family.

“At ease. I have not come to harm anyone,” Orodan spoke, looking particularly at his alternate self.

Despite being the same person, there were differences. To start, the other Orodan was less physically imposing and even two inches shorter than he. The man’s face also had a serene and almost gentle aura to it; nowhere was the look of perpetual anger to be found. Furthermore, the thought of entering a fight looked as though it worried him. Something the real Orodan couldn’t relate to.

This craftsman’s wife however, was practically clinging onto her husband, hiding behind him. Her eyes widened innocently and fearfully at the mere sight of the sword on his hip and the shield across his back.

“H-he has a w-weapon…!” she pitifully whimpered.

Understanding dawned upon him, and Orodan put both his implements of war away and into his dimensional ring for now.

“Who the hells are you?!” the old foreman demanded. “We have a strict no-weapons policy on my site!”

The alternate Orodan however, stepped forward, protective of the old man.

“Father, please let me talk to this man. He looks… related to me? Are you some sibling of mine that I do not know of?”

The other Wainwright ushered the two of them to step off to the side so that they were not overheard. More sense than the real Orodan would display.

“No, Orodan. I am you. From a different time, a more violent time where our mother and father were slaughtered and we were raised by the streets and a failing orphanage which never quite provided enough.”

This version of him had a very gentle countenance, a kind nature which lacked that brutal edge of violence which the real Orodan had grown up with.

“You are harsh to yourself. Despite your temperament I have never known you to be cruel,” Zaessythra reminded.

Still, kind as the man was, there seemed to be a real intellect behind his eyes.

“You do not look to be the sort of man who would play a practical jest, and you somehow tore through space to appear here. And… you also share my eyes,” the other Wainwright spoke. “If you really are from another time… is any of this real?”

“Then… are my wife and father-in-law safe in your time?”

“They certainly are, although I’ve never met your wife before in all my loops.”

“I see… I will not ask you to repeat it then,” the other Wainwright said, every bit the practical man of action that the real him was. “What have you come here for?”

“Hmm… you certainly have the bearing of a warrior. Your life must have been a truly brutal one. But I can see it in your eyes, while proficient in the crafts, they are not truly you. Not…”

“Not the way they are for you. I know. War is my way, the crafts are yours. That is why I am here. I need to combine my skills into something greater, but many of the ancillary ones for that are too low… it will be enough to overcome the foe I fight perhaps… but not enough for the endeavor ahead of me.”

“And this enemy… they threaten everything you, we, hold dear?”

“Once it kills me the loop will reset. But it does intend to stop me from fixing things. And from bringing back someone I care for.”

“Care for? Your eyes do not lie, Orodan Wainwright.” his alternate self spoke. “I pity you… growing up as you have, you’ve never known it. But let me tell you… I know that look very well for it is a look I see in the mirror every day when I think of my wife. That person you care for? You love her.”

This… was not the time for such revelations. What did the label on such a thing matter? Orodan had never known such a feeling in his life, and Zaessythra certainly made him feel a very odd thing which went beyond the mere desires of the flesh.

“We are getting distracted. I thought you a huntsman but now I see you are a worker of stone. I have come to learn. Butchering, Skinning and anything else you can teach me. Please.”

“You are quite direct and straightforward, Orodan Wainwright,” his alternate self said with a smile.

“And you are quite wise and handy, Orodan Wainwright,” Orodan himself returned with a smile.

And the other Orodan said nothing else as they began working together.

Old Man Hannegan grumbled but accepted his inclusion, and the old foreman’s daughter mostly hid behind his alternate self while helping, trying to avoid Orodan.

And by the end of it all, Orodan received a plethora of messages. His alternate self knew more skills than he’d expected. And at a higher level than he would have thought.

They shaped stone, put it together, and worked at helping build this castle that would fortify Jerestir against any possible Novarrian incursions. Throughout it all, even as he wrestled the insights and rapidly gained levels due to the strange synchronicity between their souls, Orodan had a growing feeling of sorrow within his heart.

The other Orodan was even kind enough to skin, butcher and prepare an amazing feast for him. The man was the superior cook by a mile, just a step below Zukelmux.

And at the end of it all, he surveyed his level gain messages.

[Stonecutting 75 → Stonecutting 76]

[Masonry 44 → Masonry 45]

[Butchering 45 → Butchering 46]

[Skinning 53 → Skinning 55]

[Cooking 64 → Cooking 65]

[New Title → Stonecutting Elite]

[New Title → Masonry Apprentice]

And despite having everything he needed, the guilt and burden upon his heart was no less.

The real Orodan watched as the other Wainwright delicately kissed Old Man Hannegan’s daughter, embraced his father-in-law and then finally walked towards him.

“You did not tell them, did you?” Orodan asked.

“That would have been cruel,” his alternate self replied.

“Unlike you, I am unable to keep my mouth shut. You… are a better man than I,” Orodan spoke, the weight of what he was doing now settling upon his shoulders. “Listen. I am s-”

“Do not be. I have memories of this life, of my mother and father loving me, of growing up under the patronage and tutelage of House Stenguard, of falling in love and getting married a year ago to my wife. I was in fact supposed to start at Bluefire this year, a few days from now in fact,” the other Wainwright spoke. “But I suppose everything is as good as it can be right now. The fact that this has happened at all, that I loved her and experienced this life. It’s enough.”

Orodan’s fists clenched. His frustration, the guilt and sorrow within, it all came to a head. He could clench his fists hard enough to create black holes, but that would end this alternate time far too soon.

This… this was his doing.

Carelessly, he had assumed that using Reality Alteration in combination with Time Reversal and Fate Mastery would go as it normally had. He would simply see these outcomes. But the truth was that he needed to physically make real and enter them to learn. And unlike Edrosic from another time who had lost it all and whose memories could only go someplace better. Unlike the prior Orodan Wainwrights who hadn’t really evoked it in him.

This one, the Orodan Wainwright who was a husband and a son-in-law, did. This was no mere alternate self, but a living, breathing, thinking… feeling man. One who had taught the real him what that strange feeling he experienced towards Zaessythra was.

One who would face oblivion.

“I… I’ll return. I swear it!”

“Do not. I can see it in your eyes that such a thing would be next-to-impossible. I would rather not become real once more only to discover that it shall end once you depart,”the other Wainwright spoke. In the metaphysical tapestry, the Prophet’s tendrils of fate manipulation grew nearer, signaling that their time together was nearing its end. “Listen. You look as though a great burden is upon you. Just… just keep my wife and Gregory safe, won’t you?”

Orodan grimly nodded. In his heart, resolve forming as he added one more goal to his already long list of utterly impossible and mad things to achieve.

“I will. I promise. Thank you… Orodan Wainwright.”

“You are welcome, Orodan Wainwright,” his alternate self said with a kind smile. And though the man had not fought or bled the way he had, the life he had led had given him wisdom in different ways which Orodan himself could not comprehend. “And do tell that special someone you love them. Life is far too short not to.”

He did not want to leave. But necessity demanded that he do.

So when Orodan’s eyes opened and he found himself back in that dimension of oblivion, he found himself understanding the strange nothingness better. For it was what he had just consigned a man with a loving family to.

And as the added responsibility of that added onto his already loaded shoulders, he bore it gladly. The insights acquired from that delve into the river of time and the tapestry of fate finalizing.

“Wicked monster. And you would accuse me of sin when you would make and abandon entire realities to oblivion,” the Prophet spat.

“It is a weight I shall bear forever. And I fully intend to bring them back. All of them,” Orodan grimly spoke.

“A mad endeavor. This is our only reality and even in creating a new one it would collapse without an anchoring pillar.”

“Then I shall become that pillar. I need simply rid the obstacle in the way. Come, zealot. Face me now.”

“Your ability is clever but still immature, and you caught me unawares in the past. No longer. My Mantle fully draws upon the power of provenance now, and you shall find no escape,” the Prophet announced.

And right it was. The Mantle was charged with such power now that nothing in his current toolset could stop it.

…for the Orodan Wainwrights of another time had given up much in order to add to his skills.

And as the Prophet’s beam of System energy bore down upon him, power enough to shatter most of a galaxy… he focused.

Valburga Wainwright’s birthing of him had been a violent affair. The grisly reality of having to push, and then pull him out while on a mercenary carriage. Right from the get-go he was born in an environment meant for violence. And then, his mother and father had been slaughtered in front of him, his infant face splattered with their blood.

And from there, he had been shipped off to Ogdenborough, raised upon its streets in a life of desperation, brutality and constant poverty where only the strong and the vicious got to eat and stay warm. Even in that life he had not just survived, but thrived. Beating all the other rats and orphans over the head and then challenging even the guards of House Argon who he stood no chance against in the pursuit of strength.

Which finally led to the time loops. A trial in which most were born anew or reforged into something else, but for Orodan… he had finally been cut loose. Allowed to be as violent and warlike as he was allowed.

Among the violent, Orodan had proved to be the most violent. At every opportunity he had had to violently struggle, to survive, to advance, to craft, to protect, to achieve any of these… involved violence. Perhaps not even of the fighting sort, but every advancement of his was a violent one all the same.

And now, bringing all the separate insights together across all his loops, he began to form something profound. A power which did not consume him like Cleanliness and Infinity did when he used it. A state of being that was simply… him.

The skills used were not too complex, but the profundity of their result was.

Warrior’s Reciprocity, that violent principle of hitting back no matter what.

His very words, roars really, brought in via Commandment of War. For all his life he had declared something many a time before doing it.

Combat Mastery, the very basis of it all and the core of the evolution about to take place. Alongside it, so many other masteries. Unarmed, Sword, Shield, Wrestling. Hells, even weapons he didn’t use as much came in, all part of that combat set. Halberds, spears, clubs.

And then came two important skills which helped finalize his insights.

Walking, for each step he took, each advancement he made, every goal achieved… was a violent struggle forward which required him to step along that path.

And Towing, for the weight of the responsibilities were ever-growing and the pressure of his enemies and external threats ever-mounting. Yet despite that, Orodan would not stop towing himself, those he cared for, and his very world along with him, with violence as the driving engine.

And in the end… certain skills which he never thought would have factored in. Yet their craft and advancement was certainly violent enough. Butchering, Skinning, Stonecutting, Mining and even Woodworking came in, for his foes were composed of more than just flesh on many an occasion.

And the impetus for that final set of skills had been the most peaceful and serene version of himself he had ever known. A man of peace. Yet Orodan had needed to meet that alternate version of himself. To see the contrast between the two.

For violence could not exist without peace. And in seeing that other side, it had finally brought it all together.

Orodan was the very personification of it. The ideal.

…Eidolon of Violence.

[Skill Combination - Warrior’s Reciprocity 99 + Commandment of War 62 + Combat Mastery 149 + Unarmed Combat Mastery 114 + Sword Mastery 100 + Shield Mastery 99 + Wrestling 93 + Halberd Mastery 65 + Spear Mastery 54 + Club Mastery 53 + Walking 70 + Towing 76 + Butchering 46 + Skinning 55 + Stonecutting 76 + Mining 60 + Woodworking 84 → Eidolon of Violence 79 (Celestial)]

[New Title → Violence Elite] Content orıginally comes from N0veI.Fiɾe.net

[New Title → Halberd Elite]

[New Title → Mining Elite]

[New Title → Club Elite]

Orodan’s first action was a fist which destroyed the very notion that an attack was being made.

His knuckles pulped the skull of the attack, killing it on the spot. The elimination of causality in a single blow through nothing but raw and overwhelming violence.

Even with this skill combination, he felt slightly dissatisfied. He was so close… so close to pushing into that level beyond even Celestial which did not exist in all System space. But for now, this would have to do.

The Prophet could only remain utterly frozen as it looked right at him. Its already unnaturally hybridized face, even paler. Its body, imperceptibly trembling.

“A… a triple Celestial… it cannot be…”

“ I don’t know what the significance of a triple-Celestial is, but you may want to school your awe. I’m going to kill you now. And I would feel quite dishonorable if I did it when you weren’t ready.”

The Prophet steeled itself, throwing everything it could into the attack, but it mattered not.

With an Endless Blitz, Orodan directed the Eidolon of Violence to strike against the oncoming beam. But he also targeted the very notion of an attack, the very space between Orodan and his foe which caused his punch to tear space and suddenly deposit him right next to the Administrator. And a final blow which struck the Prophet’s very soul.

[Eidolon of Violence 79 → Eidolon of Violence 81]

It was a savage and rage fueled thing, a strike so strong that it caused the bounds of this otherwise unnaturally durable dimension to crack and shatter as well. And while the overwhelming majority of the force had been absorbed by the odd dimension they were in, the boundary shattering meant they now had a clear path back to the material plane.

So Orodan’s fist, buried inside his foe’s chest, caused the both of them to fly right towards Vylrystia due to the momentum.

Mid-flight, with a free hand, he brutalized the spatial vectors which would have guided him to a random part of the planet and instead cracked their bones so that they would instead lead him right before the ancient machine.

The two of them, time looper and Administrator, hit the ground with a crash.

…the Prophet was dead.

Not just physically dead in the sense that its soul would be pulled back to the System. But dead to the point that its soul was utterly destroyed. A fate which had partially befallen Zaessythra when she’d been struck by the full power of the invading Boundless One from outside System space.

Only now, with his heart clear of anger and sorrow did he think clearly and even feel regret for how far he had gone. Today, had been a day full of him breaking things. One after another, his power had led to much suffering and death. Just as it could be used for good, so too could his strength lead to great ill.

But Orodan’s lamentations would have to wait. For with the Prophet gone and its Mantle now lying inert, the borders of System space were no longer as tough as they were.

And the remaining Administrators were coming.

Just in time too, as a wicked comet of power crashed right onto the green, grassy field in-between Zaessythra’s former palace and the transported Mount Castarian. And as the dust cleared, Orodan saw the grotesque form of the Reject, a straight sword in each hand and a maniacal smile upon its face.

“Oh my! You truly are a Wainwrighting Apprentice too! How exquisite!” the Reject exclaimed, mad joy upon its face.

“Uncommon actually, it’s not that high a rarity.”

“That wasn’t what I… oh! You got me good little Wainwright! Shall I twist you into a cart for telling such a fascinating joke?”

The aura of violence erupted outward, a feral grin upon his own face.

“Why don’t you come try?”

And for a moment, the fallen cultivator froze, taken aback by the intensity of it. Still, the monstrous man had not gotten to where he was today by being a coward. But that didn’t matter, for the Administrator simply sheathed his swords and gave Orodan a playful curtsey.

“Bravo! Bravo! Such strength you’ve acquired throughout these time loops. I can feel it… you really could give me a good fight now, couldn’t you?” the Reject asked. “But not yet. The Prophet, even with that ugly new form of its, isn’t quite in my league. Nor are you, my little Wainwright. Now run along before the Warrior and the Mage get here. You have chaos to cause, do you not? I see that giant crystal down there. Go on… be sure to give the Boundless One a most unpleasant hello for me.”

He knew this deranged madman wasn’t wrong. He had grown, well and truly. But even if he could give the Reject a good fight and possibly even win due to the fact that he was used to fighting uphill battles all his existence, it would still be a risk of death. Orodan was caught between wanting to test himself and having to fulfil his duty. In the end, humbled by all the failures of today, he backed down thinking of all those who were counting on him and all the other Orodan Wainwrights he had erased.

Though he had a singular question before departing.

“You’ve helped me before too… why?”

“Because I can see that same look in your eyes. That look of defiance which caused me to be stripped of the power of the time loops and thrown right into its cage for daring to defy it and the Custodian.”

So that was where all its scars and madness came from. Even the Prophet had outright said that it couldn’t survive direct contact with the Eldritch Boundless One, but clearly, the Reject had.

Saying nothing else, he winked into Mount Castarian’s bowels with a teleportation, just as the dimensional boundary tore and the Warrior and the Mage arrived.

The ancient machine was before him, but there was no more time. He had initially wanted to resurrect her first and then contend with the matter of the loops. But now, he decided that he needed to lump it all together.

Why not? Since when had Orodan ever been known for playing things safely or smartly?

He placed his hand upon the central control orb, and directed it to open a passageway into the very bowels of the System.

Immediately a giant rift opened up, and he could sense the Warrior above, desperate to smash the Reject aside and put a stop to whatever was occurring. But it was too late for any of them to stop it. For Orodan threw his own power into the small rift…

…and widened the entry way to the size of an entire planet.

Specifically large enough to accommodate all Vylrystia.

“You’re mad, Orodan!” Zaessythra exclaimed in fear.

[Spatial Shift 34 → Spatial Shift 45]

One moment Vylrystia was near Alastaia. And the next it was in a very strange and dark place full of Eldritch energy. Normally, this would already be of grave concern for the unfortunate world core he had dragged along. But to make matters worse, something very ancient, terrible and of true cosmic power was howling, shrieking in panic as its cage was pierced and utterly shattered by the power of the ancient machine which had broken a hole right into the bowels of System space.

Yet before it could react to murder Orodan on the spot for daring to commit such sacrilege, he switched the ancient machine’s coordinates for the next target.

The very boundaries of System space.

The Warrior and the Mage who guarded the borders of all System space, who had been dragged along for the ride into the System’s bowels, had only a moment to look on in utter fright as the crystal now attached to the ancient machine tore open a pathway directly outside their sanctuary.

And from there, summoned its maker.

“Brother of mine… willingly imprisoned all to be rid of me… return and embrace our union.”

Its voice was as horrid and terror-inducing as he remembered. And although he didn’t quite feel that instinctual fear towards it, Zaessythra still did. She was pleading, almost begging for him to stop, that she didn’t want this anymore.

The Eldritch Boundless recoiled in fear as well, quite repulsed by the sadistic Boundless One.

Like two colossal behemoths which lorded over reality itself, their conversation was not said in words any longer, but actions. And it was plain to see which was the weaker of the two of them.

“This is it Zaessythra. I had originally planned on reforging you with just the one who killed you, but two is better than one I suppose,” Orodan said as he guided Vylrystia, the world itself, to crash directly into the time loop mechanism.

No wonder the Eldritch Boundless One started every loop being so panicked. Orodan’s energy was fueling it, a steady thrum of endless power, containing the concept of Infinity itself. And the moment he laid hands upon it, Infinity immediately recognized its one and only master. The only being who had ever commanded it without even Embodying it yet.

The mere zone of lethality around both Boundless was utterly lethal. Anything remaining on Vylrystia slowly began dying despite Orodan’s best efforts to shield it with his own soul, wrapping it all around the planet.

The Administrators present had all fled as well, too terrified of the sadistic Boundless One themselves.

And finally, the two beings which threatened to unravel existence itself with their presence decided to greet one another with their respective full power.

The sadistic Boundless One aimed right for the time loop mechanism, and the Eldritch Boundless One aimed a beam at it to meet it halfway.

And Orodan, having spent the entirety of this loop detailing to Fenton what he had memorized of the time loop mechanism, had learned that its reset function could simply be shut off.

…and activated Balance Maker, with him, the mechanism, Zaessythra’s soul and Vylrystia in the middle.

[B an e M er 89 → Bal ce M er 145]

There was no other outcome that could have occurred.

If he had died attempting to force a balance between himself and the Boundless One, then attempting to force it between two Boundless, himself, the time loop mechanism and Zaessythra’s soul and Vylrystia in-between was pure madness.

He was nothing but a soul now. Just like he had been during that loop where he’d empowered the loops himself.

This was it. The ultimate gambit.

If he failed here there would be no more time loops, no more System space and no more of anything left at all. It would all become assimilated as part of the sadistic Boundless as everyone he knew would suffer for eternity.

The only reason he wasn’t back in Ogdenborough was because he had reached in and turned off the reset function.

And with no physical body… Orodan once more began calling upon the most frightening levels of soul energy he had ever mustered across the loops.

[In ence of Inf ty 150 → I pi ce of I fi ty 165]

Orodan could not, and would not fail.

As his power began spiralling upwards ever infinitely, even the Boundless Ones began to take notice. But so monstrously powerful was the grip he had upon their attacks with Balance Maker that they could not even stop letting loose their power.

And as he did, his soul wrapped around Vylrystia and Zaessythra, using Time Mastery and Time Reversal to draw upon every bit of memory and significance involving her.

From where she had been born. To where she grew up. Where she learned. Where she suffered. Where she killed.

And beyond even that, connected to the time loop mechanism he realized that it had the memory of all his loops past. Such a profound thing it was. He doubted the Custodian or even the Boundless had built it for it was a thing much more advanced than even they could hope to emulate.

Thus, Orodan channeled the power of time over even this, and brought all her significant memories across the loops to the fore.

Her very first meeting with him, their first loops together. Novarria and how she had died for him. And everything after that up until now.

However, the sheer strain, the pressure and concentration required to forcibly keep two Boundless attacking at once while resurrecting someone… it was too much. Orodan had only two hands. He needed to pull from more parts of Vylrystia, he needed more of him in order to combat these reality-devouring beings who were only now starting to realize what an anomaly he was.

So finally, the work he had been doing with the spider dragons all this time came into play. And the answers came from two places. The divine dimension… and that Boundless One he had seen within the elemental plane of lightning.

What was the divine dimension? Why did the Eldritch Boundless One need divinities to help filter its power?

The answer… was simple. Everything would shatter and break otherwise.

Action Increases and all System rewards in general were utilized by funneling the backlash of their activation into the divine realm. It was how the System and its distribution of knowledge worked as well. Whenever anyone gained a skill level, the System acted, channeling System energy to grant this knowledge. But this usage of the System’s power bore a cost, something which could have detrimental effects if not managed.

Gods bore the cost. And that was why there were gigantic veins of System energy within the divine realm.

And it was using this as a model, that Orodan grasped onto the connection between himself and the twelve newly empowered Gods he had helped out of their prior shackles.

He would not chain them again. But he would ask… request that they bear the backlash if only so everything didn’t shatter when he used Incipience of Infinity in that manner to do what he needed.

He sent a request to each.

And only three answered.

Ozgaric, Malzim and Faraine.

Orodan would not forget this. He would remember this debt forever. He would forevermore honor those three who stood by him when none other did.

And as they connected, bearing the backlash of his infinite soul and allowing the power to reverberate through their newly made dimensions…

…he finally unveiled the latest skill he had been working on. One, when used in tandem with the Soul Mastery aspect of Incipience of Infinity, would allow him to replicate a power he had lost long ago.

[New Skill → True Soul Weave 25 (Legendary)]

Something he would have never acquired here and now if he had not encountered that sleeping Boundless in the plane of lightning and seen how its very soul extended in arcs of primordial lightning. How even the farthest extension of it countless miles away, its weave, was just as much a part of its soul as its innermost core.

And with it, Orodan reached out, extending his soul and bringing three separate clones of himself into being.

[Incipience of Infinity 165 → Incipience of Infinity 167]

Not mirrors like Almyra’s were. Not illusions. But very much real things. Each one was his soul just as much as his own soul was. In better circumstances they would have fully formed bodies of flesh, blood and bone just as he did, however the impossible and overwhelming strain of keeping a Boundless One balanced meant that they were just as dead and in soul form as he was. Three Orodan Wainwrights just as powerful as the real one, just as capable of launching titanic energy.

Just as capable of exerting will. Kept functional by the burden the three most loyal divinities of Alastaia who Orodan forevermore swore a debt to. He would remember who stood by him in

The first reached out, using Balance Maker against the Eldritch Boundless.

The second reached out, using Balance Maker against the foreign invader.

And the third focused hard, pulling from all Vylrystia and the time loop mechanism, something which provided the fertile bed of significance necessary for the true soul genesis to begin.

Which left just Orodan himself with the hardest task. Bringing the ongoing clash between two Boundless Ones and aligning it perfectly over the center of Zaessythra’s tattered soul remains, and forcing the balance there.

[Balance Maker 145 → Balance Maker 150]

It was difficult. Not quite as mad as empowering the time loops, but enough that Infinity and Cleanliness began creeping in, visible at the edges of his perception and demanding they be allowed to enact his will.

[Eidolon of Violence 81 → Eidolon of Violence 85]

…the concept of violence, him, shot forth and brutalized them both into submission.

And as the glowing soul of Zaessythra—the World-Queen of Vylrystia and the half dragon woman he loved—began to visibly reforge under these conditions, Orodan’s formless eyes gleamed with raw determination and the endless will to see it all done.

But it still wasn’t enough? No… it was, but it would take too long.

And Orodan wasn’t sure how long the three divinities he owed his life and eternal friendship to would be able to hold out for. Already he could sense Malzim, desperate to repay all Orodan had done for him, beginning to weaken as his dimension of death began overloading with the backlash.

Worst of all, he could not accelerate the process of her soul’s recovery with any chronomancy either. Perhaps if he had an extra clone, but not when his full attention was devoted to managing the reality-destroying forces clashing and keeping her recovering soul centered.

“Damn it… damn it all! There has to be a way!”

With everything on the line, he could only pray, plea, for someone or something to answer.

Something small, green and rather weak floated towards him.

He… he recognized this! It had driven him away last time when he was meant to face the sadistic Boundless!

“You require time to forge life anew.”

“But… I do not have it. I cannot… I will not abandon her again. What can I do?” Orodan asked, desperate for an answer. For anything.

“You are strong… will you end the suffering of those within the cage of eternal torment?”

“I intend to kill that wicked beast one loop. But what will it matter here and now if I fail?”

“Then allow me to provide an alternative. You require time to forge life anew… or life itself.”

Life itself? Could he give his? But he was already dead.

“A soul… for a soul. Keep your bargain, time looper.”

And Orodan could only watch, shocked, as something he barely knew descended right into the slowly forging tattered remains of Zaessythra’s soul.

The moment it connected… genesis.

For a moment even the Boundless Ones slowed in their intensity of trying to resist him. Even they were shocked that new life could form from the collision of two of their kind fighting against one another.

The eyes were the first thing to return. Mismatched white and gold.

Her bones, flesh, blood and scales were next. Followed by her flowing silver hair and the horns which pointed forward.

Her wings came at the end, finishing their formation just as her first breaths came out.

And the first thing she did was wrap both arms around him and hold him oh so tenderly.

“I’ve wanted to do that for the longest time…”

Orodan was the farthest thing from sentimental, but he found himself feeling as though his heart had skipped more than a few beats and something had physically loosened in his chest.

And he didn’t even have a physical heart anymore.

“I wish I could stay for a while longer… but we cannot waste time,” Orodan cautioned. “Malzim is about to falter as we speak. Long has the noble God of Death held on for our sakes.”

“Then let us… Orodan?”

“I cannot move… if I do, one of those two clashing above will prevail over the other and destroy the time loop mechanism.”

“Then… although I cannot shoulder your charge, I can shoulder you.”

Which led to the sight of a ten foot tall half dragon pulling him along the ground all the way to the time loop mechanism and then, with her hands clasped around his, forcing them onto the device.

“Thank you… you should leave. This part will kill you and I’d rather not see that,” Orodan said.

“So eager to be rid of me now that we’ve finally reunited? You shall not find me so easy a shadow to shake off, Orodan Wainwright.”

He had no more time, or even the energy for anymore thought. Malzim had perhaps a minute of endurance left in him before he faltered and three clones became two. And with that, the balance would falter and Orodan could not do what he intended to.

So as two Boundless clashed around him, as reality itself shook and fell apart. Even as he sensed more Boundless from further beyond approach, curious about the most fascinating affair…

…Orodan Wainwright used all three Celestial skills at once.

[Domain of Perfect Cleaning 182 → Domain of Perfect Cleaning 190]

[Incipience of Infinity 167 → Incipience of Infinity 175]

[Eidolon of Violence 85 → Eidolon of Violence 89]

Infinity consumed him. As did Cleanliness.

Only for Violence to erupt and fight them both.

Orodan was Violence. The Eidolon of it.

He had permanently altered the timeline before, but this time it was on a scale grander than anything he had ever done before.

So he focused, and the concepts obeyed.

He recalled everyone who had done him a good turn. Everyone in his life and throughout his loops who had suffered harm and injustice. And he worked to clean not just dirt and filth… but pain and suffering. To set things right.

Right from the beginning, Baron Viglas Argon… the crooked noble partially responsible for destroying Volarbury County. Only in later loops did Orodan learn that the man’s entire family had died and his house been forgotten by the Republic despite their sacrifices.

His friends from Bluefire, Mahari and Altaj. Their mother had died and the transmigrated Akelrim Vedharna’s father had died in the process of trying to cure her.

This too, he cleaned.

His mentor Arvayne Firesword’s possession by Agathor, his love, Alcianne Rockwood’s possession by Halor. The imprisonment of Faraine, the death of Aliya’s brother, the murder of Zukelmux’s mother, the cursing of Fenton’s mother and Almyra, all of these…

And finally, Zaessythra’s death and unjust end at the hands of the Hegemony alongside the destruction of her world.

Alastaia, Thazrivin, Vylrystia and Lonvoron.

With the purging abilities of Cleanliness, the limitless power of Infinity and the guiding hand of Violence, their lack of inclusion in the time loops…

His mind was now focused, his three Celestial skills resonating most oddly with one another. It was as though Orodan was on the very precipice of becoming something more.

Something incredibly grand.

Yet at the last moment he realized he was not enough. Not yet.

There was so much more he would like to do. So much he would like to clean and restore. But his skills were not enough, his insights lacking.

To clean Xian, X2, Narictus and the Conclave. To clean the Administrators. To clean the Eldritch Boundless One, the invading Boundless… and the System itself. And to clean that being which had sacrificed itself when he needed it the most.

Orodan Wainwright would need to continue stubbornly skill grinding in a time loop.

And having achieved the the first part of his truly mad goal, as Malzim finally failed and the invading Boundless One growled in cosmos-destroying rage…

…he simply flipped the switch on the time loop mechanism once more, turning it back on.

The darkness took him.

A keening wail ringing in the night sky awoke him.

Yet he wasn’t exactly on his creaky bed. Not when a pair of warm and soft arms were wrapped around him.

Not with twelve new connections leading from his soul to separate dimensions existed.

And not when Alastaia no longer had a moon, but a vibrant green sister world.

It seemed he was no longer the only skill-grinder in a time loop, though he would ever be the most stubborn one.

And the pair of arms wrapped around him had something to say about how long they had missed certain things which came with having a physical form.