A Novel Concept - He Who Eludes Death-Chapter 309: The Perfect Gift

Maxime Lóthandorim listened to his generals' reports with a distracted air, most of his focus locked on the hologram hovering at the center of the war chamber. A lifelike projection of the supercontinent sprawled across the display, updated in real-time by hundreds of scryers. Every soldier, resource, and structure, whether ally or enemy, was marked with precision. To the King of the Empyreans, this was his faction’s true strength: mastery over information.

“Prometheus has recalled his main army, Your Majesty,” repeated a tall man with platinum-white hair and a sharp, aquiline nose—features that betrayed his kinship to the king. “The Arkanians aren’t pursuing; they can afford to play the long game. The emerging stalemate poses a dangerous threat to us.”

“What do you recommend?” asked a minister.

“I suggest assassinating some of humanity’s elites and framing the Arkanians. If the humans demand vengeance, their king will have no choice but to heed them and resume the attacks. Then, we need only wait for the two beasts to weaken each other before we strike!”

Two ministers nodded in approval, supporting the plan of the fool. Were his cousin not marginally useful, Maxime would have executed him long ago. As it stood, Alexandre served as the perfect bait to entrap those plotting a coup—powerful enough to be a pretender to the throne, but too stupid to have a real chance.

“An original plan, General Alexandre. I’m sure Prometheus would never see that coming,” mocked a man of slight stature, the only one in the room who didn’t look like a sculpted demigod.

“Care to share some constructive criticism, jester?” retorted the ridiculed general.

“On the strategy, perhaps. On the strategist? I fear that’s a lost cause.”

Alexandre took a menacing step forward. “The law forbids me from killing you, not from emasculating you. One day, you’ll dine with the women and the livestock.”

“Then I’ll break bread with your mother and father.”

The unmistakable sound of a sword being drawn rang out. Before the jester’s blood could stain the floor, the king intervened.

“Enough.”

With a single word, a heavy silence descended over the room. Maxime’s piercing gaze swept over the military council before he spoke again.

“Prometheus has used his Talent on all key members of his government. Even if an assassination succeeded—which I doubt, given his fortress-like palace—he would recognize our signature. As for his people’s opinion... While he has shown reluctance to manipulate it, his ministers are less scrupulous.”

“Though young, humanity has a startling mastery of propaganda,” a sycophant chimed in.

“So, what do we do?” demanded Alexandre. “If we wait for the second Reunion to play out, the Arkanians will become unstoppable with their Tier 3s.”

Maxime dismissed the argument. “Tier 3s who have spent most of their lives without the System should not concern us. With the ambient aether density, it will take them years to develop a Mythical skill—if they even survive their Tribulations. Their Concepts and Supremacies make them dangerous, but most are not warriors. We will focus on what we do best: guerrilla warfare. With our information, surgical strikes are possible,” the king declared, pointing to the map at the center of the room.

“Speaking of surgical strikes, the Arkanians seem to be on the operating table,” quipped the jester.

Maxime followed his gaze to a beach on the southern edge of the continent. Far from the Empyrean capital, deep within Arkanian territory, a group of warriors was being annihilated. Every second, several red dots disappeared, each marking a life extinguished.

“Strange, no paladin of Prometheus is supposed to be in this region,” observed a general.

With a wave of his hand, Maxime displayed a detailed list of the combatants. The main contributor to the slaughter appeared at the top.

[The Juggernaut - ?].

“Unless his mother named him ‘The,’ this is rather enigmatic,” the jester remarked.

Maxime frowned. Following a direct order, a dozen scryers were likely working to identify the enemy. Each was a distant member of the royal family, second- or third-degree cousins, trained and bioengineered for divination affinity. The individual’s name, rank, status, and even favorite color should have been displayed. Instead, all they had was a title.

“Has Prometheus managed to counter our intelligence network?”

A general’s murmured question reached the king’s ears, and he stood abruptly.

“Impossible!” Anger, astonishment, and concern roiled within him. If it were true, the war was lost.

Striding to the table beneath the map, Maxime placed a hand on its surface. The empire’s foremost scryer opened his personal grimoire and activated [Imperial Order: Revelation]. The Legendary skill connected to the map, then to the ritual prepared by the scryers. It traced the karmic threads back to the anonymous warrior who had single handedly obliterated an Arkanian company.

A terrifying resistance, beyond Legendary but shy of Mythical, pushed back against the probe. Maxime bore down, sharpening his will. Decades of experience, his Concept, the ritual, and the rank of his skill finally found a weak point. Exploiting the breach, he began siphoning information.

A figure appeared above the central hologram. The shadow of a muscular young man was discernible, but the resistance prevented a clear image… save for one notable detail: a pair of red boxers adorned with a die.

The generals exchanged puzzled glances. Why fixate on the enemy’s underwear instead of his physique? A vein pulsed on Maxime’s forehead. Did he really have to lower himself to dispel this misunderstanding?

After a few seconds, one of his divination probes reported an attempted countermeasure; the enemy had detected the scry and was retaliating. Maxime dismissed [Imperial Order: Revelation]. He hadn’t gleaned the full status he had hoped for, but what he had was enough.

“Priam Azura is here… I’m declaring a state of emergency,” he announced to his council. “Activate all defensive protocols at maximum level. He can’t stay here for long.”

Priam had not yet shown any hostility towards the Empyreans, but it could change.

“Your Majesty, must we truly cower here? This is an unprecedented chance to bring humanity to its knees in one strike!” protested Alexandre, greed glinting in his eyes.

“I won’t attack a target without understanding its capabilities,” the king rebuffed. “Let the Arkanians reveal them for us.”

“But… what if they kill him?”

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“Then one of them will gain his racial Talents and a Title. It’s irrelevant.”

If the Empyreans were to take down Priam, it would be with a long-range cannon. The king wasn’t foolish enough to come within ten kilometers of that calamity. If he couldn’t claim the rewards, better they fall to his enemies. He didn’t need a hero in his army; he would end up eyeing his throne.

With a gesture, Maxime displayed the full portion of the status he had acquired:

[Priam Azura - Tier 0 - Duke] - Champion of Humanity, Duke of Elysium’s Court, Duke of Valaryth, Lord of Oasis, Primogenitor of the Homo Elysian, Face of 2 Die 4, Death’s Obsession. A Juggernaut who has defied the impossible time and time again to rise.

[Ciphered]

Physique ~1,100, Mental ~750, Meta ~650.

Most of the information was unreadable, but the essentials were clear.

“Focusing on our defenses mustn’t stop us from preparing countermeasures for a possible attack. If anyone has relevant remarks based on this information, speak now.”

Silence was short-lived, broken by the jester’s laughter.

“I just counted: this Priam guy has more titles than Your Majesty.”

Perched on a cliff overlooking the ocean, a human with fiery hair meditated, striving to quell the violent emotions that had seized him earlier. The sadism of certain enemy soldiers and his helplessness in saving an innocent had filled him with rage.

Lvl Up: [Frozen Meditation] lvl 39

PERC +1

WILL +2

As his anger began to ebb, he turned his focus to his recent notifications.

Lvl Up: [Ciphered Record] lvl 2

MEM +6

META (Affinity) +6

META (Authority) +15

Lvl Up: [Divination Interception] lvl 30

META (Affinity) +2

META (Perception) +1

Lvl Up: [Shear Resistance] lvl 5

CONST +7

META (Endurance) +2

Lvl Up: [Intimidation] lvl 13, 14, 15

CHAR +9

META (Affinity) exceeds 1 000 points. Second milestone reached. Congratulations!

“I just gained three levels in [Intimidation],” Priam muttered, his gaze shifting to the beach below. Survivors were busy tending to their wounded comrades, while a few gathered futuristic weapons left behind by the Arkanians.

“Figures. That kid pissed himself,” his shadow quipped with a grimace. “Wonder if that counts as an ideal prerequisite...”

Priam growled. Leopol was their age but seemed utterly detached from reality.

“He acted like his life was more valuable than everyone else’s.”

“You know I love you, but you’re really not the best person to say that.”

Priam smirked. “I value my life more because it’s mine. Him… Did you see the way he looked at the carnage? He thought himself superior—not just to humans but to his own soldiers.”

“Ah.” Jasmine fell silent for a moment before letting out a sigh. “Classic Arkanian noble. I’m honestly surprised he didn’t complain about breathing the same air as the plebs.”

Her disdain for her world’s ruling class was palpable. Priam wondered how much of it was justified hatred and how much was personal bias. He shrugged, deciding the truth would surface soon enough.

“This isn’t as interesting as the fight. You wrapped that up quick.”

Priam winced. “It wasn’t that easy. His stats were slightly better than mine. I baited him by opening my guard—a shot to the neck in exchange for a hit to his torso. He fell for it. Without that, it could’ve dragged on.”

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“But you would’ve won.”

Priam snorted. “Of course.”

Laughter rang out beside him. “You’re so damn cocky. Oh, by the way, my shadows froze up near Gerald. Did you feel the same?”

“I experienced a similar phenomenon with Pyro,” Priam admitted. “I couldn’t summon my flames in his presence. His Domain was weak, but backed by a strong soul, its sphere of authority prevented me from expressing my Concepts. I suppose a Tier 2 soul should have some advantages over ours.”

“Really? I’ve never felt that against the Necro elites.”

“The System, Elysium’s laws, or the Seven keep them in check—but we both know those shackles weaken every day. That said, I’ve experienced similar soul suppression fighting Sumstreh.”

“And here I thought I could assassinate Tier 2s and 3s with impunity,” Jasmine grumbled. “Guess Tiering up has its perks.”

Priam chuckled, then noticed several fingers pointing his way. “Looks like they’ve spotted us. Let’s go say hi.”

With that, he leapt.

“Thanks for saving us. I’m Sergeant Francis.”

“Are you the leader of this group?”

“Let’s just say I’m the highest-ranking officer still alive.”

“I’ll take that as a yes. I’m Priam.”

Francis nodded before freezing mid-motion. His eyes widened as recognition dawned.

“The Priam?”

“The one spamming your notifications with Achievements,” Priam confirmed with a grin.

His attempt to break the ice fell flat. Francis opened his mouth, then shut it. He repeated the motion a few times before Priam intervened.

“If you could just point me toward humanity’s capital…”

The sergeant, still gaping, raised an arm and gestured vaguely in one direction. Then he shut his mouth again.

“Thanks.”

The journey was uneventful, with temperate biomes blending together like a patchwork of parks and nature reserves. The scenery was lovely, but Priam had no time for sightseeing. Twice, he encountered some kind of low-altitude surveillance balloons. One resembled a cyberpunk airship, which he promptly stored in the Concepts Archipelago.

The continent was so vast it took him nearly three hours to reach his destination. One hundred eighty minutes of strategizing for his next Tribulation and honing his aether manipulation.

Lvl Up: [Smooth Scales] lvl 37

AGI +3

Lvl Up: [Phoenix Wings] lvl 39

META(Focus) +2

META(Endurance) +1

Lvl Up: [High Aether Manipulation] lvl 12, 13

META (Affinity) +6

META (Focus) +6

META (Endurance) +6

As the silhouette of a slumbering city came into view, Priam exhaled. “Finally. I need a teleportation skill…”

“That’d be handy. We’re late, though—the gates are closed. I guess we’re not waiting for tomorrow?”

Priam grinned, accelerating further. He flew over the city walls, zigzagged through lit streets at Mach 4, and didn’t slow until he landed in front of the castle’s double doors.

The ground cracked beneath his feet, the shockwave sending the six guards sprawling.

“Sorry. I’m here to see Prometheus.”

“…The king is asleep. State your name!” barked the bravest of the guards, his weapon leveled at a man whose skin was harder than the steel of his spear.

“I’m Priam Azura.”

The reaction was not what he had expected.

“You’re the fourth person today to claim that name,” one guard said.

“To be fair, you’re the most convincing. The others walked here,” added another.

“Either way, the king is asleep,” the first insisted. “Come back tomorrow.”

Considering Elysium’s laws would summon him before dawn, Priam decided to press the matter. His invisible mist had already seeped beneath the castle doors, homing in on a familiar aether signature.

Priam took a step forward and vanished under the guards’ astonished gaze. The alarm blared seconds later as he rounded a corner. Down the hall, two knights stood guard outside a door.

“That’s either the treasure room or the king’s chambers.”

“Hopefully the treasure room,” his shadow replied.

“Feel free to search for it, but don’t steal anything.”

“What’s the point?”

“I want an inventory. It’ll give us insight into Prometheus’s character,” Priam explained.

“... Fine. You’re the boss.”

His shadow vanished as Priam approached the knights. Swords drawn, they seemed ready to give their lives to stop him.

“Stop right here and state your business!”

Priam’s Domain crushed theirs, and [Kinetic Control] froze them like helpless children.

“Sorry guys, I’m in a hurry,” Priam apologized, pushing the door open.

The king turned as he pulled on a pair of pants. Behind him, an Empyrean woman was slipping into a flowing dress. Prometheus, Priam, and Eloïse exchanged a dumbfounded glance before the Champion cleared his throat.

“I’ll wait in the hallway,” Priam said, shutting the door behind him. Outside, he met the furious gaze of one irate knight. Shrugging, he offered a nonchalant smile. “Yeah, I probably should’ve knocked.”

Sphinx’s true form was colossal. Her sheer mass crushed the corrupted underfoot as she sauntered toward the lair of one of Priam’s rivals. The journey was relatively uneventful as only Tier 2 undead could pierce her fur. For now, they were still rare, and the dead were known to be terrible at riddles.

Humming cheerfully, Sphinx padded through the Osiris Forest until she reached an ancient, vine-covered temple.

“SETH!” she bellowed, her voice echoing like thunder through the ruins.

Silence.

After waiting a generous four seconds, Sphinx grew bored. Lifting a paw, she pressed down against the old structure. The stone groaned in protest. She pressed harder, and the main door collapsed in a satisfying crash.

With an innocent tilt of her head, the feline channeled every ounce of her inner childlike charm. She was the picture of blamelessness.

“Who did this?!” roared a voice from within.

Moments later, its owner appeared, brushing aside a curtain of vines. His fiery red eyes narrowed as he surveyed the damage.

Sphinx pointed east with a paw. “A cerberus. I saw it run that way.”

“It was you!”

She shrugged. “You have no proof. Anyway, I’m here for Priam’s birthday.”

The declaration caught the necromancer off guard. “What?”

“I need your help with a gift. I’ve got a special core and want you to use it as a fulcrum to create a necro-wyvern. A drake will do, but it needs to be at least Tier 2.”

The dead man’s laughter echoed through the ruins, low and mocking. “And why, pray tell, would I do that?”

Sphinx lazily licked a paw, her eyes gleaming with a dangerous light. “Because I weigh fifteen tons, and you weigh seventy kilos?”

“Bah! The last time we met, I beat you—even when you had the hoplite with you. Alone, do you really think you stand a chance?”

Rather than respond, Sphinx activated her karmic talent, reinforcing the connection between the necromancer and the Necromoon. For a moment, the undead rival’s free will vanished, swallowed by an apex entity. The conduit between the lich and its master was a critical weakness.

As the raw fury of the blight overtook Seth’s crimson gaze, Sphinx deftly loosened the bond. The necromancer collapsed, panting as he regained control over his body.

“Well?” she purred.

“I won’t forget this,” Seth spat, his pride wounded.

Sphinx shrugged again. She knew he would obsess over fortifying that weakness, but after weeks tinkering with the karma of Sumstreh, she wasn’t worried. “So, will you help?”

“...Yes.”

“Perfect!” she chirped, tossing him a radiant core and a few shimmering drops of blood. “Holy wyrm’s blood and the core of a courageous sphinx. She died protecting her friends, so treat it with respect!”

The child had made the ultimate sacrifice in an erased timeline, Jasmine had retrieved the evidence of the feat, and Priam had brought it back. Now, Sphinx had chosen to turn it into something useful. It needed draconic influence to qualify as an ideal trophy for body tempering, and Seth would provide that.

“This aura…” the necromancer murmured, examining the items with interest.

“What? You’re too weak for the job?”

“I’ll create a dragon powerful enough to kill Priam,” Seth swore, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he inspected the core. “It feels like it holds the echo of a System Tribulation.”

“Oh, it does,” Sphinx replied with a yawn. “Before its owner died, she summoned a septuple Tribulation. A remnant of it remains.”

Status:

PHYSICAL:

Strength 893

Constitution 1 431 (+9)

Agility 1 178 (+5)

Vitality 1 322

Perception 859 (+1)

MENTAL:

Vivacity (D) 599

Dexterity 752

Memory 902 (+11)

Willpower 1 015 (+3)

Charisma 670 (+17)

META:

Meta-affinity 1 016 (+17)

Meta-focus 568 (+9)

Meta-endurance 929 (+14)

Meta-perception 541 (+2)

Meta-chance 594

Meta-authority 452 (+23)

Potential: 27 648 (+27)

Tier 0

Sun points: 1 143 444

[He Who Eludes Death] charge: OFF. Reloaded in 5 hours 31 minutes 14 seconds.

Concepts:

Breath (T0): 100% / HarmonyFire (T0): 100% / UnityPyro (T1): 100% / Half-step UnityMist (T1): 100% / SymphonyBloodlines:

Phoenix: 3%Dragon: 1%Rewards standing:

Fusion Token - Skill (Epic) Evolution Token - Skill (Legendary)Affinity Token - Tier 1 (30%)Alien Concept fragment (7th Terror)Talent Token - Upgrade (Seraph)Revelation Token - Ideal Prerequisites (Epic)Colosseum VIP TokenReborn Token - Reset biological lifespan (Legendary) Minor skill EpiphanyHigh Tribulation essence (Soul Tailored - Sumstreh’s half core)Seed of PotentialTrophy Compass[Tribulation]: Five Tribulations pending.

Future Tribulations delayed until:

Time: 132 days 6 hours 0 minute 27 seconds.

Next thresholds: 12 attributes > 900 / 3 attributes > 1 200 / 1 attribute > 1 500

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