Wish upon the Stars (Original Superhero cultivation sci fi litrpg)

[Malcolm Tent]

I stepped back smoothly, staff flicking up to deflect a swing at my head, then whirling back around to knock aside another with the other end. "CUT HIS HEAD OFF!" howled a gleeful voice from the stands. I rolled my eyes and stepped under a scything cut, sweeping my staff behind my opponents ankles to drop her flat on her back with cough of air as the wind was knocked out of her.

"You want to be next?" I demanded as I wheeled to glare at my sister. "Because I somehow doubt you're going to do quite as well as Callie has!"

Chelsea just snickered, and I rolled my eyes to turn and pull my wife up to her feet by one arm. "Nice workout," I grinned at her. "How's it feeling? Using your Domain like that?" My eyes flicked down to the twin greatswords in her hands.

Callie's Shadowvault ability let her make duplicates of the opposite alignment of any item she summoned out of it. Based on what I could tell, in fact, BOTH items were duplicates, with the real blade being safely tucked inside her Domain, but that wasn't important to her combat ability, so I didn't bring it up.

"Well, like your parents said, I'm avoiding projection," she said as she dismissed the blades. "Luckily, my Domain seems more normal than yours. I can access it in easy to digest ways like summoning the blades and calling for weapons. I'm just sad this place is so tiny, I've been dreaming about flying around above the heads of my enemies raining down weapon duplicates like a hail of terrible death."

Apparently, projecting your Domain fully out like I did to mine was dangerous for most people. My staff and demons made it feasible for me, but most Ascendants didn't have Domains like mine, so they avoided projection, leveraging their Domain in subtler ways. That was part of what I'd been leaning on the obstacle course in training, but it seemed like it was actually easier for Callie than doing it my way. Guess Gehenna wasn't ALL upside.

In response to her comment, I rolled my eyes. "Gossamer is the only B-rank item you have on you," I pointed out. "You're going to need to fill that vault up with more items if you want to take advantage of it." I grimaced, glancing down at my staff where small scuffs and nicks were visible. "Speaking of, my own gear is starting to fall behind now." I shot a glance over at Bethy. "How would you feel about brewing up a little wine for my staff? It shouldn't be too far from ranking up at this point."

The Ten Demons Tree was planted in my soul, and in my Domain. It was part of me, but also part of all my demons. All their growth, all their renown, it all fed the tree, which gave it a steady way to accrue power even beyond my own growth, which definitely fed it.

Bethy surged to her feet, clapping gleefully. "Oooh yes! I have the perfect brew! It's called Malevolent Muse, and it's made from special grapes that I've been growing with my own blood! Plants love it! Or explode. But only like…ten percent."

"Ten percent of the time it makes plants explode?" I asked warily.

She giggled. "Don't be silly, of course not. That would be terrible. One hundred percent of the time ten percent of the PLANT explodes."

"How is that useful?" I demanded with exasperation.

"Because the REST of the plant gets ten percent more powerful. Qualitatively," she grinned viciously. "I've been using it on my grape vines. Plus, it imbues them with vampiric powers, so they can drink blood directly!"

"I don't WANT it to drink blood," I said in exasperation. "And I don't need it to be ten percent stronger, I need it to be EXPONENTIALLY stronger, and I can accomplish that by ranking it up."

She pouted at me. "You have no heart for science."

"You don't DO science," I protested. "You just do random stuff over and over and see what works. And even if you DID do science, I wouldn't let you run experiments on the tree growing into my fucking SOUL!"

"She gets it," Callie snickered. "Calm down. Just Bethy being Bethy. It's vampire stuff."

"It is most certainly NOT 'vampire stuff'," Alara said primly from nearby. "Vampires do not drink wine."

Bethy glared at the older woman. "Don't YOU start. You're just a big fake. You're not a REAL vampire, and you don't get to tell me what to do. I'll totally kick your ass if you don't start being nicer to me!"

Callie sighed. "Bethy, my sister is S-rank, and at least a demigod. You can't beat her in a fight. I don't think your DAD could beat her in a fight." She must have seen Bethy's eyes narrow because she hastily added. "NOT that we want to see him try, so please don't mention that to him!"

"Alright," I said with a laugh, cutting them off. "We're all friends here. Bethy, you should get to know Alara better. She's Callie's sister and she knows a lot of stuff. She could probably teach you tons about being a vampire."

"Daddy taught me everything I need to know, thank you," she said primly. "I don't need advice from a fake old lady who stole my friend's face."

"It was MY face first," snapped Alara waspishly. "And I am NOT old. I was dead for most of the time after I reached S-rank. Chronologically I'm only a century or two old, if that. But fine," she stepped down from the stands gracefully, and as I watched, her Impact diminished in real time. I'd seen that before, Zeke had done it when I was starting out. This seemed more…real, though. Like she was actually becoming weaker. It must be some kind of advanced self suppression technique. "Let us see exactly how much your 'daddy' taught you about your powers, little girl."

My face drained of color. "Um, Alara, Bethy is our friend, we don't want her-"

"Peace, little brother," she said soothingly. "I shan't hurt the brat. Fledglings are unruly things, regardless of species. Sometimes they require correction. I'll maintain my power at the C-rank ceiling for the duration of this battle, and any unsealing of my abilities will be considered my loss."

Bethy's eyes began to glow. "You know what, fine. I don't believe some fake old lady can take me down at the same level. Even daddy wasn't as strong as me at C-rank. You've had your pointy nose in the air since you got here and I'm sick of it. Let's see what you can do. No Domains, obviously."

Smiling serenely, Alara nodded. "Of course. Should I win, I shall have you as my handmaid. I lack a proper attendant since arrival, and you would be…acceptable."

"And WHEN I kick your ass," Bethy hissed in annoyance. "You have to apologize and declare to the ENTIRE warfront that you're inferior to my dad and are an incompetent vampire. And then you have to do a dance. About rabbits. I'll write out the steps for you."

"I really don't think this is wise," I tried to interject feebly, but they both turned gleaming red eyes on me and I sighed, raising my hands in surrender. "Nevermind. Do you need a judge?"

The two of them flickered, appearing on the floor about twenty feet apart in the middle of the training room we'd been using. I sighed, sitting down next to Callie on the stands where they'd been watching. I turned to Chelsea with a raised eyebrow. "You couldn't have stopped this?" I asked dryly.

"She's just feeling insecure," my sister sighed. "Alara is old and strong. That's a hot button thing for vampires. Bethy has always been kind of…arrogant. Not in a mean way, but just in the way that she knows she's the best. Alara being here makes her doubt herself. She's experienced self doubt before, but never about THIS. Her power is the one thing she's always been sure of. And it doesn't help that Alara and Callie are sisters. She considers you two family, and she's feeling like she's been replaced."

"No one is REPLACING her," I protested. "She's our friend. Hell, she's a member of my cabinet. She's part of my damned ADMINISTRATION, what part of that makes her seem disposable?"

Chelsea shrugged. "I didn't say it was rational, I just said that's what she feels. Also, I think there's something else there. She seems more hostile to Alara than I expected, like there's some kind of natural instinct to defend her territory. It's possible Lark didn't JUST kill all the other vampires to make a name for himself. I think different lines of descent aggravate each other."

"Alara might not even be aware of it," I winced. "She hasn't had much practice at being a vampire. At least not around OTHER vampires. The individual mechanics she has a handle on, but interpersonal stuff…shit. Do you think she'll go overboard?"

Callie shook her head. "She's not the type. I don't think she's actually mad about Bethy's sniping. I think she just knows Bethy needs an outlet to get past all this drama. But if she offered her an olive branch, it would hurt her pride, and she still wouldn't be convinced. Alara wants to ease the tension by just ripping off the bandage. Besides, there's no world where Bethy is able to put enough pressure on my sister to force her to get serious, even at the same rank. She's not…even without the Impact, you know the differences in control and precision that come from understanding your abilities that deeply."

I conceded the point. Bethy was strong, but she was strong for a C-ranker. I wasn't sure I could take her in a straight fight with only a small gap between our stats, even at the next rank. But Alara? Alara was strong for an S-ranker. I didn't know if she could actually take Lark in a fight, but I did know that she had KILLED a god. Lark was universally recognized as the next best thing to invincible for having fought one to a draw, and Alara was a legitimate godslayer.

Of course, I knew better than anyone how easy it was for those stories to get out of hand. Technically CALLIE was a godslayer, so I wouldn't assume that Alara was untouchable, but I had to at least figure that she was competent. Her ability to shred through an army of Asura solo even when out of her mind with bloodlust made that point clear.

"It's fine," a casual voice said as my grandfather sat down beside me. "Moon and I are here if it gets out of hand. She might be dangerous, but we're strong enough to break things up if necessary."

I wasn't entirely sure that was true, but I knew bringing it up would just be pointlessly antagonistic. If Alara was stronger than Lark and went crazy here, no one besides one of the six was going to be able to stop her. At that point, I might as well just discount it as a possibility. It was like worrying about being in a crash when you were riding in a car. Thinking about it wasn't going to change anything.


"Alright," I called down to the two combatants. "I want a clean fight. No Domains, at least not projected. And no one is allowed to breach the threshold of C-rank. That means neither total stats nor Impact can exceed the limit. Similarly, if anyone surrenders, the fight will immediately cease, and anyone who continues will be considered to have automatically forfeited the match, even if they would otherwise have won. Is that understood?"

Both of them nodded, red eyes locked on each other with obvious intent to battle. I took one last look at my friend and sister in law and let out a long sigh. "Fine. Let the fight…begin." Both of them vanished, and the battle was on.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

It had been quite a while since I had seen Bethy fight. The last time had been a duel against Abel, if I remembered correctly, and it had been months ago. I knew she had reached the peak of C-rank, though she obviously hadn't ranked up. Still, given the relatively small gap between peak C and B-rank (aside from Impact), I had assumed she wouldn't be TOO much more powerful than I was in a straight fight.

I was wrong.

Bethy had clearly been refining her techniques during my trip to the Void. As my Master of Challenge, I knew that she'd had plenty of fights, but I hadn't realized how SERIOUSLY she was taking them. The way she moved, stepped, breathed, it was all different now. Smoother. More refined.

In my memory, Bethy was graceful and dangerous, but it was a natural grace. Like a deadly panther, she moved like liquid smoke and struck like a viper, but it was all predatory instinct and deadly talent.

As someone who had trained extensively in combat, both as myself and as multiple demons at this point, I could see through the flaws in that approach. For normal people, reflex fighting made you predictable and easy to counter. That was why martial arts and fighting styles existed. To overcome the limitations of human instinct.

Bethy, however, was NOT human, and neither were her instincts. Her natural gift for violence was beyond what I'd seen in almost anyone except maybe Dayna, and her absurd physical parameters made up for even that slight lack. Beyond that, Bethy was exceptionally gifted at mental manipulation and hypnotism, to the extent that even in her family, where such powers were an inborn part of their trait, she was considered to be a prodigy.

All this was to say that Bethy had been dangerous and terrifying in a fight before, but that danger and terror stemmed from prodigious natural gifts.

Now though, her style had changed. She still fought in a graceful, sort of formless dance of instinctive violence, but there was…polish on it. Her combat abilities hadn't been improved so much as they'd been honed, and I knew exactly how. Combat. This was what happened when you took someone with absurd natural talent and seasoned that talent with EXPERIENCE.

Bethy the last time I'd seen her fight was a panther, a deadly, graceful beast, but now she fought more like a ballerina. Her movements were light and graceful and deceptively flowing. I had thought before that even at B-rank I wasn't sure I could take her, and now I knew without a doubt that I absolutely couldn't. The way she moved, the intensity of her attacks, they were beyond what I thought possible for a C-ranker.

And they were doing absolutely NOTHING.

Claws struck, kicks scythed, fangs snapped, she was a tornado of terror, a symphony of slaughter, and she unleashed every ounce of latent ferocity and rage on her opponent. Bethy freed the beast inside her, but for the first time, she reigned it in enough that she could think. Reason. She was at her peak, fighting with both the power and technique that she could usually only use interchangeably, and she was getting fucking DEMOLISHED.

It wasn't like Alara was beating her. There were no punishing blows or brutal slashes. Instead, the other vampire seemed to engage her in her deadly dance as a partner. Spinning and flowing and swirling around the younger vampire in a macabre foxtrot, Alara was so overwhelmingly skilled that she wasn't just beating Bethy. She was LEADING her.

I couldn't imagine it. Being so far ahead of someone like Bethy that you could turn their most explosive attacks into a choreographed dance.

But that was what she was doing. Every slash, every step, every kick, it all looked harmless. Wherever Bethy was, Alara wasn't, and vice versa. It wasn't mocking, or derisive, it wasn't even malicious. Alara wasn't even paying ATTENTION to her. Bethy was set dressing. Background. She was the lighting on the stage, and it was so much worse than any insult or curse I could have imagined.

My friend began to lose her composure. Her eyes started to glint, her lips peeled back, and her movements became faster and sharper. I could see it in real time, the bloodlust overtaking her, and I started to stand up, calling for Zagan as I prepared to intervene.

An arm blocked my way, and I looked down to see my Grandfather barring me from approaching. "Not unless she surrenders," he said quietly.

"She's losing it," I snapped. "I need to go help her. She'll never forgive herself if something happens!"

He shook his head sadly. "It's not your place. Not yet. But don't worry. Even with the bloodlust fueling her, she has no chance at seriously harming Alara. In fact, I suspect she was looking for this exact outcome. She wouldn't have baited Bethany into that state if she didn't have some kind of countermeasure prepared."

Gritting my teeth, I sat back down, my eyes fixed on my friend as she continued her descent into madness. It was infuriating. Bethy HATED being like this. She wouldn't want us to leave her in this state, no matter how much she disliked Alara, not to mention it wasn't working.

Alara danced around her almost lazily, but as Bethy became more aggressive, her focus sharpened. Not in the sense that she seemed to need more effort, but in the sense that she was clearly invested in the fight now. "Shameful," she said casually as they blurred back and forth. "Is this the vampirism your father taught you? Rabid blood madness? You had so much promise a moment ago. Now you're just an animal. A warrior vampire may have given me pause, but I need no special effort to outthink a beast."

Bethy's eyes brightened, the glow becoming a more intense red as she snarled and redoubled her attack. Alara just sighed, and for the first time in the entire fight, went on the offensive. Her hands blurred, claws flickering, and a few thin lines of blood appeared on Bethy's pale skin. The scent of her own blood seemed to drive her even deeper into frenzy, and she got even faster, screaming in wordless hate and rage as her body became a blur.

I expected more taunting, but to my surprise, Alara didn't look smug. She looked sad. "Look what you've done to yourself, girl," she said in a voice that all but dripped compassion. "So afraid of your own nature you'd rather drive yourself to death like a monster than face that it's a part of you."

As she spoke, she continued to attack, claws laying open Bethy's flesh in a hundred places. As Bethy lost herself more, her wounds began to close at a faster rate, the bloodlust somehow increasing her regeneration, but no matter how she attacked or how angry she got, she couldn't touch the older woman at all.

"Stop it!" I heard from beside me. I turned to see Chelsea on her feet, tears in her eyes and fists clenched so hard blood dripped down her fingers. As the drops splattered to the ground beneath her though, Bethy just…stopped. Her eyes, still red and unblinking, never left Alara, but she didn't move another inch. "Please stop," Chelsea said softly. "You're killing yourself."

Bethy blinked. Then again. And each blink was like hitting the dimmer switch on a light. The red faded from her eyes. Slowly. Gradually. She was left swaying on her feet. "You wanted me to come out the other side?" she asked Alara in confusion, her voice hoarse.

"There is nothing to fear but fear itself," the older vampire said kindly. "It's not a monster, Bethany. It's part of you. It's only a beast because you treat it like one."

"Maybe yours is," Bethy said sadly. "But I'm different. I'm not just a vampire."

"I know," Alara nodded. "But you were still almost through it, weren't you? You were almost at the bottom. Do you think it was enough?"

My friend shook her head. "I don't. I don't think it would have been either way. But…thank you. For trying. That isn't a solution for me. But it might be part of one. Maybe given how much progress I've made, I can learn to embrace it."

"If you don't, you can always count on others to pull you back," Alara smiled. "Love is a powerful force. In all its many forms. Friends. Soulmates. Family. You're a powerful woman, Bethany."

I knew from the way she said that she wasn't talking about physical strength or technique. Bethy just beamed at her, face lighting up with a billion megawatt smile so blinding it almost left spots on the back of my eyelids. "I know," she said warmly. "I'm pretty lucky, too." She winked at the ancient vampire with luck powers, and Alara tipped back her head and laughed boisterously at the younger girl.

"Agreed," she said as she approached. Reaching down, she cut her finger as her Impact came flooding back. The energy that flowed into her returned to all of her at once, but it seemed to drain partly into the blood drop on her thumb. She flicked the ruby droplet off her thumb and it shot into Bethy's mouth. The energy infused Bethy, seeming to almost reinflate her body from where it had started to flag under the blood loss.

Bethy was so thrown she barely had time to catch my sister and Gabe as the two of them tackled her from either side, clinging to her in fear. Gabe hadn't yelled for the fight to stop, but I knew he never would. My sister was more concerned about Bethy's safety than anything, but Gabe was an adamant. He knew what a loss could cost.

"I don't know what you just did," my sister hissed. "But if you hurt her in any way that doesn't heal, I'm going to carve out your tongue and nail it to your forehead. I don't care how long it takes me to reach your rank."

Bethy giggled. "It's FINE babe," she assured my sister. "She was helping me. It was…I needed that. I didn't even know how much." She nodded to Alara. "I'll be your handmaid or whatever, it's cool. I owe you one."

Alara grinned wickedly. "Apologies, but I'm afraid this was a draw. I used my full power to infuse that drop of blood before the battle had been officially declared. Given your state, I can't in good conscience consider that a victory, but I definitely didn't win. We'll have to call it a tie I'm afraid, and schedule another fight some other time to decide the victor."

Everyone just blinked, staring at her in complete disbelief as we considered everything that had just happened. Bethy stared at her in shock for a few seconds, then all but doubled over laughing, relying on Gabe and Chelsea to hold her up. "Th-thats…" she gasped as she tried to regain her breath. "Oh my gods, that's brilliant." She beamed up at Alara. "I changed my mind. You're pretty damned awesome. I'm super jealous of Callie now. I wish I had a sister like you."

Alara smiled warmly, then brought a claw to her mouth and licked it daintily. "You've tasted my blood and I yours. In a way, that makes us blood sisters, no?"

Bethy squealed excitedly, bouncing up and down a bit. "Oh my gods we totally ARE!" She darted forward, grabbing the older girl by an arm and dragging her towards the stands. "Callie, we're totally sisters now! Come on! We can go out to celebrate, we just have to stop at my place to pick you guys outfits!"

My wife's face, which had been fixed in a soft smile, froze, blood draining from her cheeks, but Bethy was already there and grabbing her. She shot me a pleading look as our friend dragged her off to play dress up doll, but I looked away, deliberately not seeing anything. It helped hide the huge grin on my face too.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

The next day started just like any other. Another run through the obstacle course, this time with the difficulty turned up even higher. Every time I'd get used to it my parents would increase the difficulty. Speed up the swinging blades, destabilize the balance points, remove handholds from the climbing walls. It seemed like they could tell exactly how far to push me to take the difficulty JUST beyond what I could comfortably achieve.

After my fifteenth run of the day, I collapsed onto my side, gasping for breath. No matter how often I went through it, the course never ceased to make me feel like I was dying. "You look rough," Zeke said as he lounged nearby, sipping a colorful drink from a wide bottomed glass. He was sitting on a long chair like you see on beaches, and had, for some reason, chosen to wear a woven straw hat, sunglasses, and a smidge of sunscreen on his nose.

"I hate you," I wheezed. "So much."

"It's not my fault you're out of shape," he said far too gleefully. He took a long, loud slurp of his drink as he grinned down at me.

I glared up at him pointlessly. "I am wearing FULL plate armor," I hissed. "Speaking of which, have the materials for my upgrade come in yet?" Despite access to more than a few powerful Wish users, I unfortunately lacked the means to PAY for the materials to craft my upgraded armor. I'd decided to buy them with the points left over from the succession war, but I couldn't use them as direct payment for the wish because no one who was powerful enough to get me those materials NEEDED the damned things.

Still, they were currency, and I was able to redeem them for the metals that I required, I just had to wait until the damned things showed up.

Zeke smirked. "Nope. You just have to be patient. You're still waiting on Bethany to finish that new wine recipe anyway, right? Personally, I think her first offer was pretty neat, vampire trees sound awesome."

"You do NOT think that," I snapped. "Nobody thinks that except Bethy, because it's ridiculous. And don't say it in front of her, because she'll probably try to get Alyssa to help her make a bunch to keep in her Domain, and those poor animals have suffered enough." I slumped onto my back with a groan. "Gods I'm sore." I whimpered. "I'm just glad nobody has used this method on me in combat." I paused for a moment. "Actually why DON'T people use Impact suppression in combat?"

He shrugged. "It doesn't work. Impact is the manifestation of reality. Reality itself is the only reasonable way of suppressing it for long. Basically, the reason some planets suppress Impact is a natural phenomena. It's been studied, and replicated, but never actually reproduced. Suppression like that isn't REAL suppression, it's just simulated pressure. In the same way you can suppress your own Impact voluntarily to look weaker, you can project it outward too, and even a brief flare of that breaks the suppression."

I hadn't noticed that, actually, but it made sense. Sadly, it wouldn't be of much use to me since I was willingly participating in this madness, but it was nice to know how it worked at least.

After a minute or two, I was recovered enough to stand. Once I was out of the course, my life nova regeneration and triple Vitality kicked in nicely, and my flagging energy and sore muscles melted away like ice cream in the hot sun. It was like getting a good night's sleep in the span of two minutes, and honestly felt so nice it ALMOST made the training worth it on its own. Almost.

Popping to my feet, I felt almost ready to take on the world, but my nascent plans of global domination were interrupted by a pulse through the bond. I blinked and looked up and across the room, eyes fixed on a point on the wall through which my wife was waiting. "Something's happening," I said to Zeke immediately. "Let's go." I bolted for the door, aiming for where Callie was waiting for me at what felt like the front entrance of the palace.

Zeke kept pace effortlessly, easily matching my steps without any sign of hurry or rush. We arrived at the palace entrance in about ten minutes, and I found Callie there waiting. I stopped next to her, threading my fingers through hers as I took up position on her left side. Callie was right handed, so I made sure to leave that one open for her to summon her blade if needed.

"What's going on?" I asked as I stared out into the blackness of space. The building was sat atop a huge chunk of black stone, and past the edge was just the endless expanse of the gaps between the stars. I tried not to look down.

The most terrifying thing about outer space, and the one that no one ever mentions to you when describing it, is that space is not a SHEET. It's a sphere, and that means the endless expanse of darkness doesn't just expand outwards, it also expands DOWN, and even with no gravity to enforce the drop, there's something viscerally terrifying about looking over a cliff to see a drop that goes on for eternity.

Luckily, I wasn't doing that now, because my attention was being drawn in the exact opposite direction. I'd asked what was happening, but that question turned out to be unnecessary to answer, because one look up at the sky made it obvious.

Above our heads, cracks were forming. Like the starry sky was a sheet of glass struck with a mallet, lines of blazing light were expanding from a single point, radiating out from a spot that looked like the center of a shattered vase. Through the cracks, I could see a strange multicolored riot of cascading strangeness. A familiar multicolored riot. It reminded me vaguely of the Chaos Chasm.

Then, with a piercing howl, the air shook, and the cracks widened as a massive shape punched right through, burst out into the lower world in a shower of radiant spatial shards, all of which dissolved into soap bubbles of strange energy as soon as they got far enough from the opening they spawned from.

"What the hell is THAT?" I asked in awe. The object was…immense. Not the physical size, more like the power, I could feel a tremendous Impact from it, far beyond what I'd sensed from my grandmother's ship, the Acheron. Which could only mean-

"It's a Divine warship," came the disgusted voice of Alara from behind us. "And one I recognize. That's the Bloodraven."

I blinked, then spun to stare at her. "What? But you said they wouldn't send gods!"

"I doubt they did," she said with a sigh. "No reason to bother dispatching a ship that powerful if you have a god onboard. I'd imagine he gave it to his heirs as protection. He always was annoyingly cautious."

"He who?" I asked slowly. "It's been a long time since you were alive, I assume whoever this person is was a god when you knew them?"

She nodded. "A contemporary of my father's, a thief god named Selwyn. They were on passingly good terms. Selwyn was slippery and hard to pin down, and he did his best to stay out of everyone's way. Not surprising he survived this long. I suppose he Ascended personally. Seems he's done well for himself up there."

"So I take it Divine materials don't count towards the limits of the Universe in terms of Ascension?" I asked worriedly. I was still stuck on the fact that someone had built a fucking SHIP out of god ranked mats. The Acheron was one of the few S-ranked vessels I was aware of, and it was unspeakably valuable. I didn't even know divine materials existed. Was it forged from melted down artifacts or something?

Alara shook her head. "It doesn't. Materials are…complicated. Divine ranked artifacts aren't really godly. They're just naturally occurring items that have passed the thousand point threshold. They don't possess inherent world connection like a god does. Without an imbued Domain seed, their power is pretty much hollow. They have god bark but not god bite, so to speak."

"So it can't hurt us?" I asked hopefully, knowing the answer before I said it.

"Oh it can DEFINITELY hurt us," she warned. "I told you, it's got a thousand Impact. A heavy ball rolling off a table and landing on an insect might not have the same force or intention as a human foot stomping on one, but it'll be just as dead either way."

I winced, staring up at the massive ship in trepidation. But it wasn't over. The destroyed space behind the ship had started to mend, but it was once again forced open as something else shoved its way through. This one was only S-ranked, and it wasn't a ship, but a flying city made of red glass. From behind that emerged a colossal wooden horse, and then a floating spinning wheel the size of a small moon.

It took me a moment to really process the scope of what I was seeing, given the distance, but the size of every single entrant was bigger than most cities I'd visited. "Don't suppose those are ALSO old friends of yours?" I asked hopefully.

She shook her head. "No idea. Selwyn's presence is already quite a coincidence, though hopefully a lucky one. I was never a fan, but he and my father had a rapport. Bloodraven being the only Divine ranked vehicle is also a potential benefit for us. Assuming it wasn't taken from him by force and is now filled with his enemies, of course."

"Of course," I said dryly. "But maybe let's not borrow trouble when we already have so much. If they're enemies we'll find out soon enough. Doesn't hurt to have a little hope."

"It can actually hurt quite a bit to have hope, little or otherwise," my sister in law said dryly. "But I find it refreshing that you have such a positive outlook. It speaks well of your character. You are an adequate husband for my little sister."

Callie sighed. "Ali, sweetheart, do you remember that talk we had about the way you phrase things? You said you wanted to be more accessible, right?"

"Yes," she agreed. "And you said that my demeanor is often condescending or patronizing. You said it is poor form to act like I know better than everyone. But I DO know better than everyone, and they often ask me to share my wisdom, so I'm not sure what I should do about it."

"Yeah," my wife sighed. "We'll work on it. As of right now though, we have bigger problems than you being a little aloof. We have no clue what the protocols are for interacting with forces like this. If you know the people on the Bloodraven can you act as a point of contact?" her eyes flicked to me. "Unless you were planning to send a diplomat?"

I shook my head. "I mean, Harrison might be an effective negotiator, but he has no leverage here. Even a tangential connection to one of the factions is better than nothing. Are you willing to make contact for us, Alara?"

"I would be happy to do so," she nodded gracefully. "I am fascinated to learn more of these higher beings. The forces they come from may represent Overgods or even Worldgods. It might even make up for my disappointment at missing the legacy trial. Now, how are we to get their attention?"

She stared out across the vast distance consideringly, but finally decided to just go for it. Closing her eyes, she focused on…something, and there was a ripple in the space. Above us, a massive manifestation of Alara appeared in space, staring across the void. "I seek a meeting with the captain of the Bloodraven," she intoned in a voice composed of intent rather than sound. There was a brief pause, and then the ship began to move. Apparently they'd heard her, and now they were coming. Here's hoping they were friendly.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

It didn't take long for the ambassador from the ship to show up. I assumed, based on Alara's request, the S-ranker who showed up was the captain, though I had no way to be sure. He came like the wind, stepping on starlight, and arrived in the time it took me to blink twice. Alara dissolved her manifestation, stepping forward to meet him calmly, clearly not even remotely worried about any violence, despite the super weapon behind him.

"Greetings," said the man warily. "I am Seth, captain of the Bloodraven. I confess, we were led to believe that none in the lower world remembered our father or his legend. How is it that you recognize his personal vessel on sight?"

"Who wouldn't know the story of the Bloodraven," Alara said politely. "A great warship built from the stolen wealth of a thousand divine kingdoms. A magnificent vessel that vanished among the stars one day, never to be seen again. Of course, I've seen it before in person, those many eons ago when it was still new."

Seth's eyes narrowed warily. "You claim to be as ancient as a Divine vessel? Are you a devolved god of some kind? Perhaps you've undergone a sundering?"

"Nothing so pedestrian," grinned Alara wolfishly. "I simply died."

That seemed to intrigue the man. "An S-rank resurrection. Fascinating. They're so rare. While many S-rankers have Mirror Souls, I'm sure you're aware that before passing the Divine watershed, the soul is fragile. It can be done, of course, especially with expedience, but shattering a soul at S-rank is dangerous indeed. May I ask your esteemed name, lady? I can feel your power even from here, I doubt one such as yourself was unknown even in those ancient days where gods outnumbered stars. My father has told me quite a few stories of his youth, perhaps I know of you."

Alara gave an elegant curtsy. "I am Alara Atlas, daughter of the Heretic God. In my day, they called me many things. The Star of Misfortune, the Skyripper, and the Heretic Princess."

His face went pale. "The Skyripper? The S-ranker who murdered the sky god Deltora?"

"Even so," my sister in law said with her most charming smile. "It's lovely to hear that my reputation precedes me. I always did like Selwyn. He used to tell me such wonderful stories as a child. He and my father were fast friends, you see. I consider myself quite lucky you decided to grace us with your presence."

The way she said that implied heavily that it was HER fault it had happened. Which, come to think of it, it might have been. I wasn't sure about the limits of Alara's luck power, but it was significant enough that Atlas thought it was noteworthy, and it had already created several nearly impossible situations to allow her to navigate danger. Exactly how much any of us were affected by it was anyone's guess, but taking credit for it was a good way to inflate her reputation either way.

"I heard many stories of my father's friendship with Adam Atlas," Seth said respectfully. "He was a mighty god, and my father was greatly saddened to hear of his passing."

"Then he'll be overjoyed to hear of his return," Alara said brightly.

The man froze. "A-Adam Atlas is alive?" he all but squeaked. "That's…wonderful news. I'm so happy."

Based on the terrified crack in his voice, he definitely wasn't, but it was kind of funny watching an S-ranker try not to piss himself in fear. "Of course," purred Alara, her red eyes gleaming in a predatory way that had nothing to do with drinking blood and everything to do with smelling it in the metaphorical water. "I'm sure he would be thrilled to make your acquaintance as well, Seth. I just know our families strong alliance will weather the sands of time and extend into the present generation. I believe we will be great friends."

That, to my surprise, didn't seem to terrify him as much as the Atlas talk. In fact, he looked a little intrigued. I very decidedly did not choose to think about my sister in law's romantic life, focusing instead on the moment. I cleared my throat, and Alara glanced at me for a moment before putting a hand on my shoulder and pushing me forward. "Ah, how rude of me. Seth, this is my new little brother, Solomon. He married my sister not long ago, and they're very happy together, so treat him well for me, won't you?"

Seth straightened, looking me over. "A strapping young man," he said approvingly. "And already B-rank at such a young age. Such talent is rare." He held out his hand. "Greetings, Solomon, I am Seth, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. As a visitor to your lands, I'll be relying on you to help me get the lay of the land."

"Of course," I said enthusiastically. "You'll be our guests during your stay!"

He froze. "O-our?" he said quickly, having just realized something was off. His eyes flicked to Alara, who was smiling beatifically.

"Oh yes," my sister in law said in a saccharine voice. "My little brother is quite the up and comer in these parts. He's the current head of one of the six major divine factions that are currently extant in realspace."

He flinched. "Ah," he said as he released my hand. "How wonderful." His voice sounded more annoyed than anything else, and it wasn't hard to figure out why. I was a B-ranker, and therefore, a nobody. As a random footsoldier, a request to be a tour guide was a favor to Alara, taking care of her kid brother when it was convenient.

However, I was the Wishmaster, and I represented a Divine faction. As the current leader of HIS faction on this plane, Seth presumably had decision making power in regards to the formation of alliances and treaties. Guest rights were an old concept, but still very much honored among those of political power. By offering to let me host and being claimed by me as a guest, Seth had essentially agreed to an alliance with the WCP.

It was clear he hadn't intended to do that, though he didn't seem upset enough to imply he had bad intentions. He was just obviously unhappy that he'd been tricked so cleanly and quickly. I could see his mind trying to pick apart the interaction and figure out how much of it was Alara's ability influencing things in her favor and how much was her just outsmarting him. Hell, I was trying to pick that apart.

I could see now why Atlas was so impressed with Alara's abilities. They were so…insidious. Luck was such a nebulous concept, and it was possible to make your own, in a way. Alara was clearly a master as manipulating situations to her advantage, and capitalizing on not only her ability but her own innate skills and intelligence to expand her reputation. I could see why they'd called her The Star of Misfortune.

Seth was a professional, of course. He looked annoyed for a moment but quickly moved past it. "Well, I suppose I should take advantage of your hospitality if it's offered," he said smoothly. "Is this your base of operations?" His eyes flicked up to the palace, though he seemed mostly underwhelmed by the display.

"It is," I said cheerfully. "I welcome yourself and your traveling companions to my home. Please, enjoy your stay. I'm afraid we don't have anywhere you can park your ship. I suspect our hangars have neither the size nor the Impact to withstand an entry from such a powerful machine."

"Of course," he said proudly. "The Bloodraven nests wherever she might lie. None can threaten her."

I made the correct noises of awe and appreciation, but gestured to the other arrivals. "And the others? If we're to be allies, I would love to hear more about our new arrivals. I'm sure you're well informed about any number of powerful forces. You're all here for the legacy trial, yes?"

He immediately latched onto the last question, obviously pleased to be on expected ground. "Very much so. This particular inheritance belongs to an exceptionally well traveled Overgod who called himself The Hourglass Bodach." At our obvious disappointment, he laughed. "You suspected a Worldgod inheritance? I can understand the error, but don't be disappointed too fast. While the Bodach wasn't a Worldgod, he traveled for many years through many planes. Overgods, Worldgods, he visited legacies and ruins from any number of great powers, collecting techniques and materials unseen in the modern world."

His eyes locked on the clocktower in the distance, shining with fanatical avarice. "The secrets to Overgod and even Worldgod reside in that tower." His gaze flicked to Alara and I. "As fellow natives of this plane, I'm not against working together, if you have that ability. I would need proof of your capability before I could commit to anything indepth, you understand."

I nodded. An alliance like the one we made before was mostly a non-agression pact. He'd essentially been tricked into agreeing to play nice, but that didn't mean he was actually willing to work with us in the legacy. Now though, he was open to hearing us out. I wasn't sure why, honestly. Maybe he saw something in me like he said, or more likely, maybe Alara was so scary the rest of us became monsters by association. Whatever the case, I wouldn't waste the opportunity.

Diplomacy wasn't a natural game for me, but I had people for that. And more importantly, I didn't believe anyone would be unmoved by the wish power. My family had depended on the power of the wish to maintain a monopoly in this universe for millennia. These people might not know what wishes were capable of, but when they saw the manifestation of the ultimate support power there was no way they'd be unmoved.

Seth made a hand gesture, and the ship behind him flickered. There was a sudden curtain of darkness falling over us, and when I looked up, I was unsurprised to see the Bloodraven hovering above the palace. Behind it, the other arrival vessels appeared to retreat slightly, taking up a holding pattern as they no doubt attempted to figure out what was happening on this plane. I imagined the other factions would be attempting to make contact, but without a ringer like Alara to smooth things over, I suspected it would be a drawn out and complicated process of bribery and courtship.

"If you wouldn't mind," Seth said politely. "I'd like to bring some of my juniors down off the ship. Just the ones who will be entering the legacy with you. You ARE going to be attending in person, aren't you?"

"We wouldn't mind at all," I said. "And yes, we will be attempting the trial. Wouldn't miss it for a world. Or two. Maybe for three, but we'd need to haggle on rank."

He laughed, making another gesture. There was a shift and suddenly, a small crowd of people appeared behind Seth. They all wore dark cloaks with hoods (Ascendants LOVED hoods, they were very dramatic and made people curious about your face) and there was about twelve of them. I nodded to them politely, then gestured for everyone to follow me inside.

Callie squeezed my hand as we headed into the base. I squeezed back. She hadn't wanted to intrude on the negotiations aloud, though I'd received a few bursts of emotion through the body giving her opinion on the proceedings. My wife wasn't the type to just keep quiet and let other people do her talking, but she didn't feel the need to make her contribution known either. She was happy to advise in the background, even if I didn't always take that advice.

I glanced back over my shoulder surreptitiously. Seth and the others being here was a good sign, and we owed Alara and Atlas for it, but we still had to stick the landing. We had information to get out of them, and if we wanted an active alliance with their trial takers, we needed to fight for one. I hoped Crell had his negotiating pants on, because this was going to be a doozy.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

I sat in silence. Or almost. Drips of water, the tick of the clock, slight brushes on the ground. There was sound, but it wasn't exclusive of quietude. It was more…encompassed. The sound was part of the silence. Like seasoning in food. It added depth. Flavor. It made the silence more complete.

Outside, people bustled, politics raged, treaties were negotiated, but I was just here, alone with the quiet. I had excused myself while my cabinet dealt with Seth and company. I had things to consider.

Power. I had ruminated on its nature so many times, and so many times I came to new conclusions, new realizations. Power was like the proverbial elephant, and I was the blind men feeling along its surface. A snake, a rope, a tree. Power was all of these things and none of them. Power encompassed the entirety of creation, but was simultaneously missing from all things.

I felt it now. That lack. I had climbed so high, reached a goal that should have been unattainable, and yet, here I was back at the bottom. Once again I numbered among the weak.

And it was…exhilirating. It felt so freeing, being unburdened of the great destiny. My responsibility was still there, but at the same time I felt so weightless. Knowing there were so many above me, that even the old man was just an ant in the grand scheme of things was a breath of fresh air.

I had become so complacent with my goals. After reaching Wishmaster status, I needed to reach godhood. And then…I'd be done. I'd have completed everything I set out to do and…what? I'd just live out forever bored. That was what happened to the old man. To Black Sorrow. I could see it clearer and clearer as I climbed. Nothing mattered to them anymore because there was nowhere else to go. They stopped dreaming. Stopped caring. Stopped living.

All this time I assumed it was the power that made them so inhuman. It wasn't. It was its ABSENCE. They dedicated their whole lives to progress, to growth, and then, suddenly, it was gone. Like being on an endless staircase and getting to the top only to realize there's no next floor, just a bottomless chasm and no further to climb.

It had been happening to me too. Not quickly, or even severely. But it had been happening. With my whole path mapped out and my big milestone achieved, everything seemed so monotonous. I had achieved my dream, and now all that was left was living it, and how much did THAT suck?

But now I could see further. Beyond the old man, beyond godhood. Overgod, Worldgod, maybe further, who knew?

The fire in my gut was back, ignited again by the spark of humility, and it was roaring up for nourishment. It cried out for me to swallow down adventure and danger so it could refine a destiny fit for a god. I found myself standing, moving, and I realized before long that I was practicing the Cosmic Phoenix chapter of the Nine Phoenix Reincarnation Art. The movements were almost instinctive, building off the epiphany I'd just had. Nothing spurs growth like seeing the immensity of the universe. Nothing makes you want to push yourself like seeing the gap between you and the strong,.

I withdrew the ember from my ring, not wielding it, just inserting it into the ground as I moved, letting the fire spit forth and envelop me as the pattern of the skill wound its way through my body.

Pain washed through me, but it wasn't limiting. It was invigorating. The burn of a good workout, only very literal. As I moved, I considered my path forward. My destiny had been written before this. It wasn't complete, but I had seen the horizon, glimpsed the shore, whatever metaphor you liked for viewing my final destination, and it had robbed me. I'd lost my drive, my need to grow. Somewhere along the way, my advancement had become an inevitability instead of a vague possibility, and I had lost my motivation to fight.

My movements became sharper. Fiercer. This template was different than the last one. The Life Nova was easy because of Archie. I could tap into his nature, and life wasn't a tough thing to envision anyway. I had been Zagan a thousand times, I'd even incarnated him. And more than that, all things lived. The template was just kind of…neutral.

This one though, this one was different. The Cosmic Phoenix Template had a mind of its own. It had a nature, and I had stumbled ass backwards into the right mindset to pour on the gas. Fire blazed through me, consuming and expanding as it poured out of the ember. It had formed a sort of connection with my template, and the rotation was acting like a vortex, siphoning fire from the glowing blade and pulling it into my body faster and faster.

The deeper I got, the more I saw. I was glimpsing the universe through the eyes of the phoenix. I saw a million worlds like grains of sand in a vast desert, like drops of water in an endless ocean of shining stars. Cosmic waves too vast to even be perceived by the mortal mind whipped and raged across the face of reality, unseen tides that steered us all without us even knowing.

And above it all, a phoenix. A noble, majestic bird born from the first spark of creation when the universe was formed. A guardian beast that stood atop the plane and looked down on the forming universe like a proud mother.

Behind the bird, I saw another form, too vast and grand too even contemplate. All I could make out was a human shape, but I knew, knew in my BONES who it was. The Worldgod who had created this universe. The Cosmic Phoenix had been his. Not THIS Cosmic Phoenix, obviously. The one from my vision had a wingspan that stretched over galaxies. Its smallest feather would be bigger than this star system. But A Cosmic Phoenix. The first. The founder of the bloodline.

And then the vision ended, and I collapsed. I was on the ground, wheezing, blood leaking from my eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. I coughed wetly, and I was pretty sure my lungs had collapsed. My bones felt broken, my brain scoured nearly clean. My soul was strained, though not too severely. My Domain was covered in cracks that I hadn't even felt happening.

But my lips were peeled back in a triumphant smile. I needed to keep that. Needed to nurture it. That experience was foundational to my path forward. And I knew an easy way to do that. I closed my eyes and focused into my Domain, into the castle and into my throne room where my Chronicle sat on a pedestal.

Focusing on the experience I just had, I started to inscribe it. Binding the visions to a page would keep them accessible and fresh, and HAVING them was a huge and earthshaking achievement in itself. It was the perfect solution. I described it all, pouring not just words but images and sounds and emotion into the binding. One page. Two. They kept filling, and I was starting to get worried about whether I could actually DO this. If I tried to bind too many at once it could backlash and hurt me.

Finally, it stopped at eight. Eight pages bound into my Chronicle, all of them anchored to the Nine Phoenix Reincarnation Art.

Beyond that, I saw that the art itself was up to EIGHT drops. I was only one away from completing the template. I grinned weakly. That was a staggering amount of progress for one training session. And I knew it wasn't over. I could refer back to my Chronicle and read those pages for inspiration. The last drop wouldn't be EASY, but it wouldn't take months like they had been.

Next came the rough part. I pushed my consciousness into my Domain, manifesting inside to check on my demons and assess the damage. The palace was fine. Still in one piece if a little banged up. Cracks covered the ground across the plains and the walls of the building. Deep inside them though, I could see something new when I knelt down to check. Fire. A very special and familiar type of fire.

The vision had deeply injured my body and soul, but it also carried little bits of Cosmic Phoenix fire deeper within me. I realized that this was a test. Destruction preceded creation. The advancement of my skill and the power seeping into my Domain wouldn't be possible without the damage that had happened. The phoenix was a creature of rebirth, and that carried certain meaning, especially for someone like me who had already condensed one of the nine templates.

I checked on my demons, and they all seemed perfectly fine, if somewhat disgruntled. Apparently there had been an earthquake in the Domain, and since there was no EARTH in here to quake, they hadn't been prepared for that. Which was fair.

As I emerged from the Domain, I reached out to pull myself up, forcing my body upright to a sitting position. I had just made it when the door to my room burst open and a terrified Callie blurred inside, eyes raking over the room to find me. "SHANE!" she screamed when she saw me.

I realized a bit late that I was leaning tiredly against a wall in a sitting position in my room, covered in blood that had been pouring out of my head. "Hey Cal," I croaked sheepishly. "I did a thing."

She hit me like a bulldozer, shoulder crashing into me as she wrapped her arms tight around my body. "You absolute moron!" she sobbed. "I felt like you were dying. It was like something…ate you. The other end of the bond went completely dead. What the hell were you thinking? I'm so glad you're ok."

"Alright, this one wasn't my fault," I argued. "It was an epiphany. Like the one you had about the abyss back in the day. I was training and I just…saw. I can't explain it. Even if I could I probably wouldn't because I'm afraid your brain might leak out your ears. Still, I'm fine, and the results were great." I tried to give her a reassuring smile, and realized that my mask was in the way. I took it off so she could see, but I'd forgotten all the blood on my face, and that kind of just made it worse.

I didn't try to explain further, or talk her out of her panic. I understood how upset she was, and I knew it wouldn't go away just because I said so. I just held her and let her cling to me like I might vanish if she let go. I just lay there and let her feel my presence. I knew that was what she needed most right then, and honestly, it wasn't exactly hurting my state of mind either.

Once she was feeling centered we got up and walked to the bed. My triple Vitality and regeneration fixed up the physical injuries easy enough, even if the soul damage would probably take all night. I pulled off my armor and slumped into my bed, and she covered me with a blanket. As I fell asleep, I saw her between my fluttering eyelids, sitting in a chair beside the bed, watching over me, and I couldn't help but smile.

I drifted off, and my dreams were full of huge majestic birds and a sea of endless planets. It was funny, seeing that unceasing horizon would have terrified me before, back when I had no dreams left to push me onwards. Now though, all I could see in the neverending universe was an endless expanse of possibility. It was one of the best dreams I'd ever had.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

The next morning I awoke with a long, slow stretch. I felt…transcendent. The eight hours of sleep had been more than enough to heal the cracks in my soul and Domain apparently. That wasn't exactly normal, but neither had the damage been, and considering Genesis Burst lived in the Domain, I suspected I'd had some help from my court with the cleanup.

Either way, I felt like I could take on the whole universe with one hand behind my back. Ten more scrolls joined my count, and I felt almost smug about the round number thirty on my stat sheet. The constantly shifting uneven numbers there before had been far more annoying than I had let myself dwell on, and seeing multiples of ten constantly was weirdly soothing. Hopping out of bed, I stepped into my armor, slipped on my mask, and prepared to head out to talk to my uncle.

The materials for my armor and the wine to grow my staff should be here, or at least there should be some progress. I was excited to see exactly what my gear would look like once it took the next step.

I ran my fingers over the armor, examining the smooth lines. Solomon's Seal was a unique set of gear hand forged by Donovan Redfellow, founder of the Hall of Steel and Fade's martial uncle. He was technically at B-rank, but he was a Mythical blacksmith, and he was MUCH deeper into the rank than I was. In terms of crafting seniority, he was probably the most skilled craftsman I had ever met.

He hadn't come with us this time, but considering the legacy trial, I had sent for him not long ago. He was traveling with my materials, and I was sure he'd have plenty of fascinating options for what to do with my armor when he arrived.

"Must you make so much noise in the morning," groaned my rumpled wife from where she lay curled up in the chair next to the bed. She looked…well, flawless, as always, but tired. I frowned and leaned down, lifting her easily and carrying her to the bed, she pouted but didn't resist as I tucked her in.

"You look tired," I said gently. "Thank you for staying up to watch over me. Get some rest, ok? I'll make sure no one disturbs you."

She rolled her eyes. "I don't need you to baby m-" her sentence was cut off by an expansive yawn. "Also shut up. But fine. I'll sleep. But I expect breakfast when I wake up. No matter how late it is. I want fritatas. And hashbrowns. And fresh squeezed orange juice."

I leaned down, pulling off my mask to brush her forehead with a quick kiss. "As my lady desires. Now rest."

She snorted, but her lips quirked up in a smile as she snuggled under the covers. I turned and stepped out of the room, careful to close the door carefully so as not to disturb her. I was surprised to find Benny outside, leaning against the wall. "If these rooms weren't soundproofed that would be super creepy," I informed him bluntly.

He rolled his eyes. "Sure, because I'm positive you two were getting busy after she ran in there panicked like you were being murdered. I just wanted to check in, make sure you weren't dead. You're going to be my best man, and I expect a bachelor party as great as the one I threw you. Your death would deeply inconvenience me. And I guess it would be a little sad."

"Someday, someone will give you what you deserve," I told him acidly. "And on that day, I will laugh, and point, and call you mean names while it happens."

He sniffed loftily. "Sounds like you, always letting everyone else do all the work."

"Die in a hole," I said with an eye roll. "I have no idea why I put up with you, dick. And thanks for checking on me, I appreciate it."

I set off at a brisk walk down a random hallway. It took me about ten minutes to realize I had no destination, and another five for Benny to notice the same thing. He stopped where he'd been trailing behind me. "You have no idea where you're going, do you?"

"All within the palace belongs to the Wishmaster," I said pompously. "Any destination would be acceptable."

"That's not what I asked," he snickered. "You got a place in mind?"

I sighed. "Looking for Zeke, and then Bethy, in that order. Planning to get my gear upgraded while the politicos handle the politicking. I am SO glad I have a Master of Treaties, because negotiating with those overworlders sounds exhausting. Now, where the hell is my uncle, I need to check in about my armor?"

"He was in the loading bay last I saw." He sighed. "Some kind of shipment came in, and NO I don't know what kind or if it was your stuff. What did you get anyway?"

I shrugged. "I let Donovan pick. He knows what kind of upgrades would work best for my armor better than I do. I made sure to fill him in on the details of Gehenna, but other than that it's out of my hands. If there's one thing being Wishmaster has taught me it's not to micromanage talented subordinates. I only have to ride herd on incompetent idiots…and friends, like you."

My comment was as blithe and neutral as possible, but Benny knew me well enough to catch the dig and rolled his eyes. He led me off to one side and down a hallway. We took a few turns before arriving at a pair of small doors set into a pair of much bigger doors. We pushed them open, heading inside to find Zeke poring over some kind of clipboard. "No, no, no," he snapped. "I asked for twenty pounds of Astrellan Star Wood and TEN pounds of Daryan Bog Pine. You CHARGED me for those values, despite bringing me the inverse. Bog Pine is worth a fifth what Star Wood is. I'm not paying for this. And why the hell are my Cave Demon Blood Paints all in abyssal black? I'm an artist not a calligrapher, you don't think I'd like some variance? I told them I'd accept black as a substitute but I didn't want ALL black paint."

The poor guy standing opposite him appeared to be getting smaller and smaller as my uncle talked, and I was starting to worry he might melt into a terrified puddle if it went on much longer. "I think he gets it," I said as I ambled up. "I'm sure this nice gentleman will be happy to make note of all your grievances and contact his employers for a refund. Won't you?"

"Of course," the terrified man squeaked. "Right away sir," and then he scurried off into the loading bay.

"Must you ruin my fun," Zeke sighed in annoyance. "That little twit isn't as innocent as he looks. I KNOW they sent at least a bottle of blue ink, and it's not listed. I'm positive the little troll stole it. I'd have beaten it out of him, but his uncle is relatively high up in the merchant's guild."

The Merchant's Guild was one of the major economic bodies in the universe. They possessed the ability to mint chits, coins of concentrated Creation that were useful for crafters and businessmen alike. They basically propped up the economy for the entire plane, which meant they had an inordinate amount of control over it.

Luckily, the WCP had access to methods of duplication that meant we were capable of eating into their market if they pushed it. As such, we were given priority treatment on shipping and first purchase rights on many unique goods in exchange for refusing any wishes that involved pure chit manifestation. We had a LOT of deals like that in place. The WCP was an economic powerhouse, and I was still scratching the surface of what that meant.

"Talk to Peter," I shrugged. "He can use it to leverage them into something juicy I'm sure. I have a Master of Banking for a reason."

He blinked. "I…could do that. I keep forgetting you're in charge. Being able to just…go talk to someone who can fix my problems is so weird. And I don't even need to schedule a meeting. Your cabinet members are all eager to get in my good books. Huh."

"Yes, congratulations on your newly discovered ability to abuse your power," I said dryly. "Now, does the clipboard have a certain bitter old smith on it?" I felt a twinge of Danger Sense and snapped quickly. "Donovan if you hit me with that fucking vegetable I'm going to have you assigned to the most remote outpost I can find, where you'll spend the next two hundred years making pipe fittings you will PERSONALLY install in every broken toilet in my territories."

A dry voice chuckled as I turned around to see the old smith, wire framed glasses over golden eyes, grinning at me. "No more idle threats for you, eh boy?"

Zeke raised an eyebrow. "Been a while since I saw an employee call the Wishmaster BOY. Last time someone did it was the first week of Aiden's rule. I think they've almost found the last piece of him."

Donovan snorted. "Don't mind me, sir. Just an old fool too long from his forge. If you want to kill this old man over an ill chosen phrase you just go ahead, won't bother me none. I'm sure you have other Mythic Blacksmiths on hand who can perfectly redesign the Lord's armor for him. We grow on trees, after all."

My uncle stared at the old red haired smith for a moment before barking out a laugh. "Oh I LIKE him. Fair enough, old man. If my nephew doesn't mind the mouthing off I won't bother with it either."

"Lovely, now that no one is going to be murdered, can we focus on my gear," I said impatiently. "Donovan, you picked out the materials, right? Show me what we're working with."

He nodded amiably. "Of course, brought some lovely specimens. I'll need to borrow a forge, but I'm sure someone here has a functional one." He led me across the dock to a contained loaded with a series of small boxes on plinths with plenty of room between them. There were a LOT of boxes.

"Seventy two main materials," he grinned. "Most of them not too expensive or rare, mostly there for the synergy. But if we're going to make what I plan to make we'll need them."

Zeke's eyes widened. "You're going to make him a Domain Anchor?" he gaped. "At B-rank?"

"It's not like it's that difficult," Donovan shrugged. "If you recognize what I'm doing I'm guessing you can make them too."

Zeke shook his head. "Not for a manifested Domain. I made him a proto Domain Anchor a few ranks ago to stabilize his soul from consistent pseudo Domain abuse, but that's not the same as a long term anchoring construct. Especially not for a Domain like his. It's completely unique. Stabilizing something like that would be…ambitious."

I finally caught up. I remembered the mask Zeke gave me ages ago that could act as a sort of stabilizer for my soul when I used my pseudo Domains. This was before I had a Chronicle and it had been dangerous to use them at all. The mask had helped me offset the strain.

Donovan looked smug. "Well, then it's a good thing I won't be working alone on this, isn't it. I hear you're a crafter of some repute yourself. How about it. Want to make something… ambitious?" He held out his hand to shake, eyes blazing with confidence and excitement. He was clearly looking forward to the effort.

Zeke stared down at the hand with interest, before finally nodding with a low chuckle. "Alright, fine. Let's make something earthshaking." And I could already tell they would.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

The first thing they had me do when we reached the forge was strip. I was wearing boxers, obviously, but it still wasn't a pleasant feeling being almost literally naked on an actual battlefront. At the very least, I wasn't cold or anything, because the heat from the forge was perfectly suitable for keeping me warm.

"Alright, so, you have seventy two materials here," I said slowly. "But how are these supposed to represent my demons exactly? I assume that's the goal. But you don't have a list of my demons and their abilities, so how were you able to choose materials to represent them?"

He walked over and opened a box. "I didn't," he clarified. "I got a few stable elements based on the obvious demons you've shown in public, but for the most part, these are unstable mutagenic reflectors." At my uncomprehending silence, he sighed. "It means they're reactive elements that reconfigure themselves to reflect the energetic properties of whatever they're exposed to."

I blinked. "Oh. That explains how you got so many of them with only a thousand points. I take it the actual materials would have been more expensive?"

"Depends on the material," he shrugged. "But for the most part. I trust you remember how this process goes?" His voice was sly and amused, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes. He didn't have to enjoy the impending pain so much.

"I do, but I'm not sure that we should do this here," I looked around, measuring the space mentally as I tried to figure out the best way to do this. "If I can bring this forge into my Domain, would you be able to do the crafting in there? I'm just getting this feeling that it would work better that way."

He blinked. "I…well yes, that would probably work perfectly. Assuming your Domain can withstand such a crafting at B-rank."

"Don't worry about that," I told him with a chuckle. "My Domain is sturdy as hell."

Zeke nodded. "He's right. It'll hold. He's not supporting it alone. And forging a Domain Anchor inside the Domain itself will strengthen the connection. Projecting it isn't a problem, but he's been running into problems with secondary manifestation. Trying to incarnate more than a few of those demons causes undue strain. Not to mention the reactive materials require reactions. Channeling them one by one is inefficient, if we bring him inside to work he can have the demons react with their materials internally."

"I take it you're a prop based crafter?" Donovan asked with interest.

Zeke waggled a hand, "I can do a fair bit with hand tools. But at higher levels, ritual is just more convenient, especially for larger projects." At my curious head tilt he explained. "At a certain level of proficiency, different crafting disciplines tend to bleed together. I've mentioned this to you before. My Voltomancy includes several subdisciplines, and one of those is formations. Working with souls is tricky and dangerous, and formation crafting is all about precision and setup. It minimizes risk."

"I'm guessing this is recent?" I asked curiously. "I remember you working on masks by hand when I was a kid."

"A-rank was when I started making changes," he acknowledged. "Mythic crafting skills are…complicated. Regardless, I think I can help improve this suit of armor. And more than that, I'm planning to create a new mask for you to complement and stabilize it."

I blinked at that. "Really? I thought this one would continue to upgrade as I did? You built it sealed right?"

"You haven't noticed yet?" he chuckled. "I guess I should be glad you don't get hit in the face much. I made that mask at B-rank, the same rank you're at now. It's long since reached the limitations of its growth. I never expected you to improve at such a staggering pace. Even for an Ascendant it's unbelievable."

I felt a rush of pride at that. It felt good to be acknowledged by someone as impressive as Zeke. "Alright, well then I'll bring this all inside. Give me a minute to get this setup."

Closing my eyes, I reached out for the forge and all the tools in the room and pulled them with me and the two crafters into Gehenna. We appeared in the throne room, in an empty space in the center, and I glanced around at my court as they watched from their places surrounding us, all clearly excited by the visitors.

Donovan looked around with interest. "Fascinating," he said slowly. "This place feels far more solid than it should. I've been in plenty of Domains, though I haven't condensed my own yet. This doesn't feel like the Domain of a B-ranker."

"He cheats," Zeke shrugged. "First of all, he formed the damned thing at C-rank, which means his B-rank Impact reinforced it when he ranked up. He also did something else I can't put my finger on. It's new. Besides, he has a soul weapon that helps prop the place up, that's it over there." He gestured toward the tree manifestation of my staff.

Donovan stared at it for a moment. "Some kind of hybrid reincarnation tree? Those are rare as hens teeth. The more time I spend around you the less sense you make, boy. I'm even more convinced you need an anchor for this now."

"It'll stabilize it exponentially better than the current setup, even after the tree ranks up," Zeke agreed excitedly. "Three points of stability will be more solid. I can't wait to see what you're capable of after both upgrades. Now, this armor is your creation, so why don't you take the lead. My mask crafting needs to be interwoven through your process, which means I'll need to piggyback on your session."

"Understood," Donovan said pensively. "In that case, line up the most powerful of the demons and have the rest set out the boxes of material at these points," he scribbled down a quick diagram and passed it to me, and I immediately passed it on to Dom.

The lesser demons started to spread out, carrying the boxes to specific places. Meanwhile, Donovan took out his blue leek and began smacking demons one by one, feeling out their energy as he had done to me all those months ago when he made the seal.

He got through them relatively fast, and as he finished checking each one he sent them to a specific box. Apparently the adaptive materials worked best for specific constitutions, because he was very exacting in their placement. Once that was done, he approached me and smacked me several times with the leek. I was pretty sure he didn't need to do it so much but, I wasn't going to complain if it got me a new set of gear.

As he was working, I saw Zeke kneel down and take out a bag I'd seen before. It was the black canvas bag he kept his masks in. He started digging around inside, pulling out bottles and pieces of wood and metal and glass. Finally, he stood up and walked briskly to a few of the boxes, setting thirteen materials on top of the thirteen boxes near the most powerful demons. When he was done, he nodded at Donovan, who walked over to the forge in the middle of the room and began to stoke it. He added my armor into it as he worked, piece by piece, and I couldn't see what happened to it as he did.

It took about fifteen minutes to bring it to temperature, though I wasn't sure if that was because it was a great forge or because of Donovan himself. Once it began, he walked over to the nearest demon, placed his hand on top of the box…and then stabbed him through the hand.

The demon, namely Dantalion, hissed as the knife punched through his palm and into the box. Donovan withdrew the knife, carried the box over to the forge, and then threw the whole thing inside. He tossed the knife to Dan. "Take this around the room and stab each of them the same way I stabbed you. Then have them step back."

Dan looked at me, and I nodded, so he hastened to obey. As he did, the forge flared ominously, black smoke billowing from the mouth of it. Donovan turned and tapped his leek on the side of it and then began conducting with it like he was directing an orchestra. As he moved, the black smoke swirled and funneled down, condensing into an image of me. As I watched, black metal flowed out of the forge to begin to cover the smoky figure.

Donovan tapped again, and a line of smoke shot out of the figure, spearing into the bloody hole in the top of the nearest box. The smoke glowed orange as a blaze of heat poured down it, and another stream of smoke shot out. One by one, they connected, until seventy one streams of smoke connected every box in the room. Donovan swung the leek at the smoke, and with a blaze of blue electricity it was gone, replaced by that same long handled ballpeen hammer. He hauled back and struck the figure. Once. Twice. Three times. On the third strike the first box exploded, and a cloud of molten metal flowed down the smoke tendril to join the stuff beginning to coat the figure.

Before it could go much further, I heard Zeke begin to mutter. I couldn't understand what he was saying, but the light in the room flickered. Shadows danced and spun along the walls as all thirteen mask ingredients caught fire at the same time, the light from them exploding towards the head of the smoke mannequin.

Donovan sped up, striking faster, and the room became a blur of shadows and flames and smoke as the two crafters intertwined their process, blending and melding the ritual crafting to create something more than the sum of its parts.

My demons had fallen to their knees, faces pale, not from the stabbing but from whatever the materials had absorbed from them through the blood connection. Whatever it was, it wasn't something easily shrugged off.

Finally, after what felt like an hour, Donovan whirled his hammer one last time and smashed it into the back of the smoke figure. It exploded forward into a cloud of rushing smoke. The smoke consumed me, covering my body and face, wrapping me in a suffocating cocoon of stifling heat, and then, as quickly as it had started, it was over. I was fine. I couldn't even feel the mask on my face, though I could see the new armor adorning my body.

I triggered Double Trouble, turning to face the illusory copy of me, and froze. I looked…terrifying. A midnight black suit of intricately articulated plate armor gleamed across my body, traceries of gold, silver, and bronze worked through the plates in complicated traceries that reminded me of a cross between enchanting symbols and circuitry. Flickers of the various powers of my demons danced through the shining filigree like sparks over exposed wire, there one moment and gone the next.

The mask was a shining porcelain facial construct with no eyes or mouth, inscribed with almost microscopic black symbols that had been filled in with some kind of black resin. The designs were more artistic than magical from what I could tell (which wasn't much), but they looked fierce.

"It's done," my uncle said tiredly as he walked up to clap a hand on my shoulder. "Now we just need to see how it works. But before we put it through its paces, I think we should shore up the third leg of this tripod. I think it's time that we contact your Master of Challenge and ask her about the progress of that wine." I stared at my image for a few more seconds and then nodded. I couldn't wait to see exactly what my staff was going to become after its rank up. Only one more piece of the puzzle and then I would be ready. I couldn't wait to take that entrance trial. I would be ready for anything.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

Bethy, as it turned out, had been busy. After I gave her the assignment, she had wandered off, and I hadn't really heard anything from her. I had expected her to sort out her plants, maybe have a pot or two stashed away that she could hybridize for some results.

It turned out, she thought a LOT bigger than that. My jaw dropped as I stepped into the large open room where her orchard was planted. A huge, full sized orchard. That appeared to have been grown here. "Um…wow," I said slowly as I looked around. "Was this here a week ago? Because I feel like someone would have mentioned it."

"Shane!" Bethy shouted excitedly as she appeared in front of me. "You came to see me! I mean…greetings boss." She gave a sloppy salute, her face taking on a stoic, imperious expression before melting back into her usual exuberant grin. "You're here for the wine, right?"

I nodded as I looked around. That chamber was huge, and more importantly, it LOOKED even bigger. The walls were painted with scenes of endless sprawling fields and rolling hills from the countryside. There was a sun peeking over one of the hilltops, and whatever paint had been used for it was emitting actual sunlight that fell on the carefully curated vines dotting the field beside what looked like some kind of villa. "This is…a lot. How did you get all this here?"

"Hm?" she asked with interest. "Oh, I carry most of my vines around with me in my Domain. But you wanted me to do some tinkering so I just ordered a bunch of A-rankers to bring me the stuff I needed. Since I'm on your cabinet everybody has to do whatever I say, even if it doesn't make sense." She paused, her brow furrowing before she yelled over her shoulder. "Chelsea! Can you send someone to hallway sixty four to tell that guy to stop doing jumping jacks? I forgot!"

There was a weary sigh from the villa before my sister called back. "I already did! Please stop ordering people to do punitive workouts and forgetting about them. People have started avoiding us!"

"Well, good to see you're not abusing your power," I said wryly. "But since I'm here, why don't you show me around?"

She perked up. "Oh, that sounds amazing, come on!" she grabbed my arm, dragging me out towards the fields where rows of trellises held up winding vines covered with multi colored grapes. "So, I've been working on so many different varieties of wine," she confided as she pulled me towards the closest trellis. "Ever since I started working on my grapes I've realized how soothing it is. I love it so much. And I have this natural gift for it from my mom that just makes it so easy to find good combinations."

I stepped forward to squint at a vine nearby, reaching up to touch the silvery blue grapes hanging from it. "Ok, so…what are these?"

"Sword grapes," she said immediately. I blinked at her, and she smiled. "The iron in the soil comes from ground up sword shards imbued with sword power. I used the broken swords your Uncle Moon made training with Callie. He couldn't exactly spar with her using S-rank blades, and the C-ranked weapons he was using tended to…well, disintegrate."

"Sword energy?" I asked with interest as I sniffed a grape. "I didn't know you could harvest energy like that." Then I paused, my eyes widening. "Vampirism. You can siphon off mythology, not just stats."

She beamed and nodded. "Yup! Pretty cool, huh? It was a pain to learn how to do it, and I needed Alyssa's help to figure out how to get it into the plants. Usually I use my blood, but I've been experimenting with alternative methods, like the sword dust. I'm trying to bottle sword mythology for Callie, but so far it just tastes kind of sharp."

"Mind if I try one?" I asked, and she gestured for me to go ahead. I popped one in my mouth and winced. "That's…interesting," I said with a grimace. "Sharp is a good term. It's like sourness without the sour. The muscles in my face are buzzing."

Bethy giggled. "Yup, it's not done yet. But I have a bunch of different varietals cooking. I've been getting mythology from all over the place. For your grapes, I repurposed some I got from Nat and crossbred it with one I made from Killian's shadows. The ones he uses for soul stitching. I think they turned out well, but I wasn't able to REALLY nail the mixture until I mixed some dust from a use wish scroll into the soil."

"How did you make them GROW so fast?" I asked, impressed at her work ethic. "When you said you were planning to make a new strain of grapes for me I didn't realize quite how involved it all was."

"My vines are a part of me," she shrugged. "The vampiric vines I told you about internalized it the most, but they can all grow from absorbing my blood. Most of them just don't actually incorporate it into the fruit. I promise, no blood taste in the wine I make for your tree. It'll be the most delicious fertilizer ever."

I snorted at that. "When you say it that way I feel kind of stupid for being so weird about that. But also I don't, so let's continue the tour."

"Sure thing boss man," she saluted, skipping to the next trellis. "These are pretty cool. They're life grapes. Jessie helped me make them. Her lifestorm ursa powers are SUPER compatible with plants, as you might imagine. These are actually AMAZING. Try one."

I plucked a grape, shocked at how light and airy it was to hold, I popped it in my mouth and hummed in pleasure as I bit down. Grapes had always been a favorite food of mine, especially green grapes. There were very few things as delicious as a crisp, fresh grape. When they were at their peak it felt almost like cracking glass when you bit into them, minus the pain or discomfort. Just a rush of cold sweet flesh and delicious juice.

This particular grape was infused with life force that poured into my body when I swallowed, resonating with my Life Nova blood drops and filling me with a pleasant, happy warmth.

"Can I get some of these to bring back to Callie?" I asked brightly. "She'll love this. And I guess I want to reserve a bottle when you finally…wine it? Vint it? I have no idea whatsoever what the verb form of making wine is."

She shrugged. "I don't know. I have people for all that boring sciencey stuff. I just do grapes until it gets boozy."

Benny groaned from behind us, and I turned to raise an eyebrow. "What, you want a grape?"

"I mean…yes, but I was groaning because you two are weirdly similar sometimes, even if you don't want to admit it. You both have the subtlety of a ten ton hammer."

"Hey, I'm as subtle as a much smaller hammer than that," I protested. "One ton. Tops."

I turned back to my Master of Challenge. "So, where are the grapes we're using for the ritual? And do you need time to make the wine? I know it usually has to ferment and stuff, but you didn't seem to need to last time."

"Oh, nothing like that," she shrugged. "I just need to stomp on the grapes and then the wine happens. It's actually super fun."

I only vaguely remembered her process from last time but that sounded about right. Not to mention that was several ranks ago. Bethy had probably refined the whole thing since then, in her own Bethy way.

"So, do you want to get this out of the way now?" she chirped. "I can mix up the wine and we can get started on feeding your tree buddy." She looked down at my stomach, poking my armor with a finger. "Whose a hungry little plant being, you are, yes you are!" I stared down at her in complete perplexity.

"Bethy, why are you talking to my stomach? You know that isn't how Domains work." My voice was exasperated, but I couldn't help but be a bit amused.

She shrugged. "Your tree wasn't in your Domain to start with right? Anyway, come on, let's get started! I love catering parties. Oooh, maybe I can make your tree a hat. Do you think you could put a hat on that spiritual tree avatar in your Domain?"

"I do not, no," I sighed with a rueful chuckle. "But yes, we can get it out of the way, do you have everything ready?"

I had to admit I was excited. Not as excited as when I reached B-rank, but I knew the utility my staff could bring to bear. Having it at A-rank was going to be damned useful. Not least because it would restore my ability to rank up my skills temporarily, which I hadn't been able to use since I hit B-rank and achieved parity with the ten demons tree.

More than that though, the tree was a pillar of my fighting style and Domain, its silent support gave me the confidence to fight above my level and to face anything that came my way. It ALSO kept me from feeling the pinch from my demons ranking up, which while not a problem yet, I was worried about.

In fact, I suspected several of my lesser demon court members had been sandbagging so as not to unduly strain my Domain. Well, that and I was pretty sure some of them were hoping to get reincarnated. After Brad had joined the court, a lot of the weaker members seemed to find lots of reasons to express their openness to change, it was amusing, but a tad obvious. Regardless, with the tree at A-rank I could support a bunch of tier 9 demons if it became necessary, and any number of tier 8s would be child's play.

I followed Bethy along the rows until we reached a trellis that stood out from the others, mainly because it looked so new and unsullied. The vine wrapped around it was fresh and bright green and looked much more vital than the other, steadier plants. Bethy picked up a wooden bucket, passed it to me, then passed another to Benny. After grabbing a third she quickly and expertly plucked MANY more grapes than I had expected to be on the vine, filling the buckets with a pile of juicy looking black fruits that I had to resist the urge to try for myself.

Once we had them all collected, she gestured for us to follow and carried the buckets to a back room of the villa where another, larger wooden tub waited. She had us pour them all out before gesturing for me to take out the Ten Demons Tree and drive it into the pile in the center of the tub.

She slipped on a pair of shoes that looked like they were specially made, cleaned them off, and then jumped in and started stomping, holding up the staff as she did. The movements were…alien, almost painful to watch. I knew that it wasn't just normal steps. It was a dance. The dance of the maenad. With each crash of her foot the tides of dark juice changed slightly. I could smell the scent of ozone filling the room, like a storm was brewing.

Finally, after about twenty minutes, she lifted the staff and slammed it down again, driving it through the bottom of the tub and into the floor. As she stepped out of the tub she stumbled, my sister appearing to catch her, and we all watched as the staff began to absorb the wine directly, like tree roots drinking up fresh rain. But that was just the beginning, because inside my Domain, changes had already begun.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

I didn't bother with subtlety or asking permission. I projected my Domain immediately once I felt the alterations begin. In the blink of an eye we found ourselves standing in my throne room, at the base of the steps, staring up at my staff and the tree that represented it.

It looked…weird. The trunk was warping and bowing in odd ways, seemingly trying to tear itself open, and in the few places it succeeded I saw strange snapping mouths full of fangs. I was briefly concerned that vampirism had carried through the wine somehow, but between one moment and the next the mouths snapped shut, blinking back open as eyes that stared out around the room.

Seventy two eyes. I studied them intently, clearly picking out familiar irises, like the glowing green of Zagan and the black of Mephistopheles. I was briefly confused as to what was happening, but after thinking it through, I finally figured it out.

My soul. My Domain was part of me, as was the tree. As my soul weapon the tree grew as I grew, and that was how it had created Gehenna for me, but as I was changed by the tree so too must the tree have been changed by me. It had spent the last year or two internalizing my mythology, but moreso, internalizing the demons. Simulating their lives, living them. Becoming them.

All that growth was important. It was vital nutrients the plant had used to get stronger. Bethy's wine could help accelerate that growth, but it couldn't REPLACE it. The tree needed something to burn to fuel its growth, and what it had was the lives and experiences of seventy two powerful demons.

Azazel appeared at my side, looking tense. "My lord, I bid you welcome to your court. A small question, was this, perhaps, your doing?"

"Of course," I nodded confidently. "No need to worry, everything is fine."

"That's lovely," he said dryly. "But perhaps in the future it might behoove you to WARN us when you're planning multiple fundamental shifts in the foundation of the realm from which we draw our very existence?"

I paused. "Ok, so I would have done that…" I said slowly. "But I didn't think of it."

He chuckled. "I assumed as much. But it would be nice of you to remember that we are PEOPLE as well as demons. I realize this is your Domain, and I have no right to instruct you in its care, but it is also our home. We need no consideration beyond acknowledgement, my lord, and I hesitate-"

"No," I cut him off. "Don't hesitate. You're right. This involved you and I took that for granted. I needed to do this, but I could have spaced it out, let you in on things. Instead I just ran amok without letting you in the loop. I get so used to us acting as a single unit I forget that some measure of communication is necessary. It won't happen again."

He nodded, relieved. "Now, as you have no doubt surmised, the ten demons tree has begun a qualitative evolution. Beyond what would be represented by a rank up, I mean. It is becoming an entirely different tree. This is important because of exactly where the tree is ROOTED." He gestured at the writhing tree image, the roots of which squirmed deeper and deeper into…the ten demons TOME. My chronicle and the tree were deeply intertwined, hence their shared name.

My eyes widened. "Is that…will that be safe? I've never heard that Chronicles can do that."

"They can," Bethy chirped from nearby. I turned to find her sitting up on one of the stands, legs swinging in a carefree back and forth rhythm. "I mean, Chronicles are condensed from Solid Skills and Solid Skills can upgrade on a rank up, so why wouldn't a Chronicle. I mean I've never heard of it happening either, but it makes sense huh?"

Put that way it actually did. I mean, Path of the Demonbinder was intricately connected to my Chronicle and my ability, and it was going to rank up when I did. I was honestly kind of curious. I'd seen skills before and after rank up, and I'd FELT skills rank up, but I'd never SEEN it happen before. I wasn't sure anyone had, at least not in this specific way. I turned to stare at the changing tree. It would rank up, and change my Chronicle when it did. Obviously it wouldn't drag ME to A-rank, but I was fascinated to see what my ten demons tome would become, not to mention the staff itself.

A pulse rocked the room. I frowned up at the tree. That was…not ideal. Azazel noticed my face. "What's wrong?" he asked immediately.

"It's not enough," I grimaced. "It needs more. The tree is too far from A-rank, the wine didn't bridge the gap. It's been growing, but it's still a little short. The advancement is going to fail." And something was going to happen to my staff when it did. The tree COULD communicate with me. Had done so before. But not like this. This was sharp and urgent, very much not its style. It was afraid.

The only reason things weren't worse was because of the armor. I could feel it like a lodestone, anchoring the whole Domain with the sheer weight of its presence. This armor was a genuine A-ranked artifact and it was designed to hold this place together, which was taking a ton of pressure off the tree so it could work.

Closing my eyes, I ran through my options. I needed power. Immediately. Wine wouldn't work, it had started things off but it wouldn't carry us over. I needed something more substantial something weighty…something like stats.

I blinked up at the tree, sending it a question. The response was a jumble of enthusiasm and acceptance. I nodded. "Alright, I have a plan. It's been a few weeks since my last influx of stats, not to mention there was that whole big scene with me greeting the higher dimensional visitors in the middle of the war front. The tree needs to grow, which means it needs power, and the easiest way for me to get that is to process my stat points."

Benny nodded along. "Right, the mythology should act as nutrients right? I mean the thing is growing out of your Chronicle, which is a condensation of one of your abilities."

"That's the hope," I said wryly. "Not sure if it'll work but it's all we've got. Might as well give it a shot. Here's hoping it's enough to bridge the gap." I wasn't sure how many points I had coming. It hadn't been that long since my last update, and while I HAD done some impressive shit, I wasn't sure how well word had gotten out yet.

Either way, Benny was right. It was a viable plan. The tree had grown to this point on my mythology and used it to form Gehenna. So I closed my eyes and accepted the influx of stats.

I had never actually DONE this inside of my Domain before. Every time I processed stats I did it in a private out of the way place where I wouldn't be disturbed. As soon as I relaxed my soul, I felt the stats descend into me, washing over the domain. A foiling curtain of energy. Green, red, blue, gold, black, a myriad of shades each representing something different. I hadn't ever seen raw stats like this before. Not…physically? They didn't stick around, and honestly I couldn't tell if the colors were real or just my mind trying to process something unintelligible.

As each one hit, the tree shook, shedding the old leaves, and new ones grew in its place. Leaves of rainbow and shadow and fog. Seventy two branches of leaves, each one dedicated to a different demon. Some only had a single leaf, some had eight. But the leaves were all important, I could tell.

The ground shook as the power flooded in, and I felt it settle over me. It wasn't painful. It was a few million points, but it wasn't even thirty percent of the total. As it was absorbed by the tree, the flames and fog and all the forces represented roiled down through the roots and into my Chronicle, and the book…caught fire. I felt a flash of incredible force surge through me that drove me to my knees. Benny and Bethy caught me, helping me keep from falling over.

And then it was done, and I was looking at my stat screen. I ignored the majority of it, not needing to check on my demons, and focused specifically on my stats and the entries for my soul weapon.

Wishmaster status. B-rank. Ability: Legendary Wish- Ten times a day grant a Legendary wish in return for proper compensation. Wish must be feasibly achievable by the candidate's own efforts within a three day period with current statistics.

Legendary Path of the Demonbinder- The Domain of a Great King.

Might-3,125,421

Impact-215

Fantasy-2,433,568

Vitality-2,221,871 ()

Focus-2,124,853

Perception-1,641,640

Creation-1,981,143

Progress to next rank:13,528,711/100,000,000

Soul strength- Obsidian Soul Body

Body Forging: Nine Phoenix Reincarnation Art- 17/81 drops- First Layer (Life Nova) 9/9, Second Layer ( Cosmic Phoenix) 8/9

Chronicle: Myriad Demons Manual (pages bound:13- 4 Zagan, 1 Leviathan, 8 Nine Phoenix Reincarnation Art)

wish scrolls stockpiled: 30 (5 in the possession of friends to be used over time)

Bonded companion: Archimedes (Life Nova Phoenix)

Weapon: Pillar of Goetia

The shuddering stopped, and I felt a flood of Impact pour through the tree and into the Domain, strengthening it further in a way I'd only experienced one other time. Apparently the shared connection meant that the tree's rank up enhanced my Domain the same way mine did. I thought back to the Dryad homeworld, where I'd first found it, and the prediction that it could carry me to godhood. It was looking more likely by the day.

I checked my stats, happy to see the enhancement was decent. I wasn't even close to the end of B-rank, obviously, but a few million regularly dropping in was going to make the process faster than I had hoped. Sure enough, becoming the Wishmaster had its perks.

"Thirteen million points," murmured Azazel when I told him about my status. "What an auspicious number. What are the effects on your Chronicle?"

"Unknown," I admitted. "It feels…different. Not sure how different. My pages are intact and it's a stable core for this place again. The armor and the tree are working in perfect sync now, with only my lower rank dragging them down. Combined with the enhancement from its rank up, this place can support far more power being utilized in realspace. Not to mention it'll be MUCH less vulnerable during projection. I don't think anything short of an S-ranker is going to damage it the way Roland did."

Combined with all my recent training, my combat style was going to be just as flexible and even more precise. I wouldn't need to hamstring myself in fights like so many others did for fear of soul injury.

Finally, it was time for the last step. I reached out a hand and called to my staff. I thumped solidly into my palm, almost vibrating with power. Life and strength flooded into my from where I gripped it, and I could see seventy two sigils twisting themselves along the wood as I watched the grain. Like an optical illusion, there one moment, gone the next.

With a grin, I allowed my Domain to recede, and I was standing in the winery with Benny, Bethy, and Azazel. "I can't wait to find out what I can do now," I said with an eager smile. "And I know just how to do it, too. What better way to assess progress than a test. Put the word out. Tomorrow night, we enter the Legacy Trial. I want to see what kind of assessment that old Overgod left in his house." Because I didn't believe anything my level could stop me now.