Reincarnated as a Duck: A beast progression litrpg isekai-Chapter 289 - 280: Judgment

The world spun when Razmund evaluated the current state of this life. He watched a high priestess of Order, but it felt more like a joke. There was nothing great about her. It was useless until he wondered if her world was also spinning wrong.

His did, and it felt as if it was quicker than usual, or it was his mind playing tricks on him. Insensible eyes wondered about new threads, rather than old tracks. After all, nobody here was courting death like him. Nobody was worth it, or so some childish bastards would say.

He would laugh at their faces, not even batting an eye.

Ceila was also looking at him, towering over him, and crouched aside. "What will you do is the following," she said, her voice full of control, "Leave this place. Make sure to remember us, me, and learn about my student, and bet on the heavens that you won't, because it won't end up fine otherwise."

"What of before?" Razmund whimpered, spitting facts and blood. "You won't deny me this hunt. You don't want that, so… what is it about? You… should get lost."

"That's true. I almost forgot you are insane," Ceila nodded and pressed her hand against his Token. "These things are precious, aren't they? What would happen if I crack it? Would you lose everything precious to you, or would you try to be wild, sorry, or begging?"

Razmund didn't respond and looked even more annoyed, so she turned to Lint, who wasn't sure if his words had a speck of authority left.

Lookish was also gone, so this was turning out to be very unappealing indeed, and nothing about Levandis was changing this either, which was odd. Didn't she care about this place or its secrets? Why would she ever allow this group anywhere near it!?

"You..." Lint clattered his teeth. "This is enough, isn't it? Stop wasting time with unnecessary troubles. You might regret it! Seriously! Where do you think you are standing?"

"Yeah. Stop it." Razmund said and chuckled, picking his Token with his left hand. Pink hue flew, and Dice almost dropped from his palm. It didn't like Ceila being so close, yet it didn't even make a sound.

"See this?" Razmund pulled his left arm towards his face and watched the Dice with entertainment. It wasn't a show meant for Ceila, who didn't care about Fate too much. Anyone who did was either a pure fool or a complete idiot to be led by its nose.

It wasn't for her. Still, she could do many things right now, and Razmund expected the worst, so he held the position of stupidity rather than control.

"For your student, I can consider that idea. Now, why that Side? Is that it? It is not about mine, no? You are far too watchful of this Dice and my steps. You already got involved, haven't you?"

"Yours stinks, that's why," Ceila said simply and analyzed her choices.

Razmund had no voice left. He accepted being a tool for yet another God. How many in total were there? He couldn't remember, but this one was the roughest and most stupid of them all, for sure.

This world was so full of those jokes calling themselves all-mighty that Razmund felt he should laugh until his lungs would break again.

Ceila invaded this place as if it belonged to her, along with presumable ideas behind yet another God, who forced Levandis to bend a knee and play fires blazing against the void and insanity.

It was a guess that turned into facts with little background in his eyes.

"Why are you laughing?" One paladin asked, stepping forward. This one sounded old. Too old, yet so heavy, wide, and bulky, he didn't look his age.

Ceila looked at him. "Not now. He is just delirious, soldier."

"Makes us wonder," the paladin said, "if that is a reasonable point for this business. It should be more prudent and dealt with. And… Sorry. I shouldn't question you, m'lady."

At that moment, Ceila definitely looked a bit menacing at the man.

"Oy, this is not right! Not right!" Lint went between them, hurried to Razmund, and hovered above his head. "You sickos. I am done with you."

Such a warring and daring mess hadn't happened in this place for centuries. It was a true Holy Party! Invasion! It didn't matter how many other names it had or how far he should denounce it.

It was not as exquisite as a proclamation of Divine War or a straight-up Divine Invasion derived from pushing Divine Kingdoms against one another.

Lint feared both facts at his mindful capacity, though he knew his Lady was powerful and wouldn't do anything poorly, yet… what the fuck was this? Lint couldn't believe an owner of her own Hell would let this slide right below her nose.

One thing was the politics of gods, but this involved even advanced Paladins of the Sky! Even if it sounded terrible, what could they lose? No Hell was a simple place, and most Gods knew how to stick their hands into it or walk around it with care.

If not, the painful clash of Gods never let any proper winners, so Lint believed even if this place got out of the box, would it hurt this Hell, or his Lady, too much? Maybe it was fine, timed well, or it was at a point where Levandis accepted everything. That... might be amusing and something Lind hadn't thought of.

Some places would never decline unless an incredible, remarkable change came. Like prospects from outer space, whispering courses of the Endless Skies, or forfeited the deeds of this world further, or behind more hidden ideas. Betrayals, pantheons, and changes of people or eras were part of the charm, after all.

Leaving it be was also wonderful, as demise wasn't always an option, just as tricks caused by many Gods surrounding this planet.

Vermillion seized an opportunity for herself, and that could have hidden costs or very obvious repercussions, and who could blame her? Lint did not. But Levandis should not have made it easy!

In the end, he was the one dealing with this shit, and cleaning it wasn't an option but a hidden crap to deal with.

Ceila wasn't even alone. There were two incidents revolving around this land in recent days. Ceila and her group were a minor one, as that demanding, crazy voice that echoed when Murai was in his Resonance was much worse.

Well, those and the entire knock of those little steps and Razmund's were also included. Then, they were also typical Challengers. If one forgot the Encounter, most issues about them were acceptable, including the Hell Party. Ceila, not so much, but many invasive properties came to this temple regardless of the Centralis Kingdom.

That Will… That Mother was eerie, if not special enough to warrant a briefing among Hell Gods! It spoke of thousands of reasons, with few virtuous answers. Few had a guess at what she wanted, but only one was obvious to those who were aware.

At last, it found Murai, and that statement could lead to a whole new level of problems this group of Paladins couldn't compare with. Alas, this idea wasn't under every head and soul, so that was at least good news because who could point out that angry voice to the rest of the problems? Many should think of it as an angry God, or maybe even a thing of Void and Chaos Space.

Lint didn't dare think about it and rather considered what exactly Vermillion wanted out of this. Did it aim at Murai, mixed with this temple, or was it a general clash against Lordis, Levandis, or… Centralis? One thing was sure: there were reasons for everything, while helping herself sounded like the most viable possibility.

So, yeah, he got the hang of the issue and realized the worst was yet to come.

Ceila eyed Razmund on the ground. "Disappear for all I care about, and remember my words. Not the reasons. We move on to the next Gate, so if your little Party has its validation, we shall discuss this and talk about it later, and trial it, not as yourself, but as me. So, what's it going to be?"

Razmund frowned and clutched his Token and claymore. "Spiteful."

"Regretful," one of the paladins said. The rest finally snapped the remaining plates back together, feeling whole and no longer leaking light.

Ceila turned to them, hoping they would listen and let this slide. In any case, it was possible for a sheep to ram the shepherd.

"Well, more depth or tools won't crash someone like me, sun," Razmund sighed and turned his face to Lint. "Mind you, we are all tools, so what are we doing again?"

Lint wished to slap him himself. "Few tools know what is good for them, or where they should stop, and what is a brilliant point about them surrounds this idea. You know nothing, Razmund Dietrich."

"Oh, full name too? What a rubbish… Fuck me," Razmund got to his feet, figuring that any slap was easily scrubbed off. After a few minutes, the physique had done its deeds, and Ceila didn't worsen it too much.

He had time. Little time. Maybe no time whatsoever when he thought about it.

Razmund posed with his Token again. "Sent me anywhere, Mindarch. Do Protocol X10 or whatever that brings me out of here,"

Lint heard it and chuckled. "You lunatic. Listen carefully to everything and everyone I've seen. What it meant is nothing. I consent, however. This random Chaos Shift will reduce half of your HP."

"Shut up and do it," Razmund argued, heard heavy steps, and looked into Ceila's eyes. She might change her mind again, so he had to hurry.

Before addressing a vast choice, the Token glowed and trembled, and Mindarch authorized a working under his specific Token. It was heavy on prose, hidden under layers of obscurity and secrets, and most of it was utterly meaningless to first-timers, serving as cool saving graces and systems.

Last resort fleeing wasn't stupid under suitable circumstances, and Razmund couldn't be bothered by leaving these mines on his own feet. He certainly didn't plan to go all the way up or visit Ip'ur City ever again.

"I will remember this, Ceila. Some of it. Not everything." He said to her before accepting the fog that soon grabbed him into the Chaos Space. It was like a coffin grabbing him and snatching him through thick mist. In a flash, cracks spread in midair, and he completely disappeared from this fucked up chamber.

It was questionable why Ceila and the group kept up this pace. They should have left on the spot and quickly found or forced their way into Paradise. Perhaps Ceila herself wanted to do it, but neglected how dealing with Blessed was always annoying and nasty in prose.

They always felt right, greedy, haughty, and like heroes bathed by a second chance in life. Perhaps that was to be expected. Maybe they were the main characters of their stories, and in such a case, there was no space for righteous fools or heroes.

Exposed to emotions and memories of the past life, this world would break them, change them, and then kill them.

It was no surprise. They were unnatural, if not fake. Nobody should have more than one set of memories of their name. It was only right, but here, this false claim turned treacherous in the face of this world, or the Divides deemed it so.

"Well," Lint clasped his single arm to his dreary ribs. "What to do with you all?" He eyed Ceila, David, and Ultium.

"Do you wonder, Guide?" She asked. "About the Reason? About us?"

"That's not my place." Lint shook his head. "My Challenger is a Blessed with enough problems and stupidity for all of us. Mindarch was curious about some matters, however. Very curious. Voices clinch to trues, too, if I recall, and many Gods can become very dreadful, really freaking quick."

"Or so I've heard myself." Ceila sighed. "But the Encounter has its priority, and so do we."

Razmund was the root of this Encounter, and if the rules prevailed, it would give birth to variables and new paths. Further changes in these Parts often led to new roots emerging if the first one died or proved to be useless or unfit for the said Part.

Anything could rise instead of him and push against Murai in whatever capacity the Gods wanted to, or the situation would happen against their wishes. After all, Murai was also a partial Origin and Reason for everything, and his destruction might be even more sensitive.

How it would go onward was outside of mortal visions. Usually, that is. Ceila knew this was a chaotic case, yet also not quite without new beliefs or saves. The worst matter was the unkempt flow surrounding the world. Not just Murai.

Too many abnormal shifts were happening because of Centralis Kingdom, so she bet Timmy and Iris became entangled without a single clear rule in sight. Why? Ceila bet it was just an option, and it was so minor that much worse causes overshadowed it.

They were a variable, as Razmund had described, and were kidnapped under no rules, restrictions, or excuses.

It was a very vicious play, and Ceila figured out this plot must be running very deep indeed. So much so that her Lady didn't even care much about it.

That was fair, even if it was vicious and terrible for Ceila. Grudge followed it, and nobody could refute the pain or the hustling politics, except those who were hurt because of it.

Ceila didn't like it for sure, yet could she change it? Was her Lady even in a bad spot because of those kids, or was Murai the worst part? Maybe she no longer cared about those kids.

Unfortunately, Ceila couldn't go against her and did what she could do.

Without much thought or consideration of the consequences, Vermillion tested handling a rock of countless reasons and voices, and it helped with a couple of things, while the rest remained unchanged or even harmful.

Determining constant compromises was suitable for Ceila, as anything was for Vermillion. She followed her and lived for her, and that was the sole motive for her steps.

In the end, what of the deaths and mayhem in the Hellscape? What was it compared to what went on the Surface, or soon to be... in this world?

This is nothing against my trust in you, my Lady. I trust you, even if that man needs to taste his peace. He is too broken. Too insane. He needs a break like many others, Ceila thought, which was regarded in a bad light by Ultium.

His Transformation was dwindling, yet his face alternated between unhappiness over Razmund and satisfaction at being close to her.

And David? He had unknown thoughts in all of this, though he was giving everyone considerable attention, so who knew what he was thinking. He knew Vermillion and how this group had interesting fangs and thoughts about her former mistress, or that scary duck.

They had the power to wipe the floor with Razmund, yet they let him go. Why the fuck would they not do it? Why speak to him like a bunch of rotten idiots? The Reason or Origin was behind it, and killing that madman didn't bring prestige or a brand-new rising for any of them. It would have nasty outcomes, sure, but he was also a Helper and not a dog following Ceila or Vermillion around.

But he felt like one, and he was fine with it.

That was a different cause from Ceila, who shouldn't be so involved in any of this.

Once, she even tested one of the Judges. That wasn't just about anyone. It was a supreme link to the rules of the Sky, and how this world operated for thousands of years shouldn't change overnight.

But not only did it change, but it literally shattered. How many people knew about that Judge? Uzbek, and unknown amounts of curious eyes scattered around this land, desert, or Sky. Maybe the depths of the temple were the same since the descent of a Judge wasn't a simple meeting between fools and a God.

Out of respect for saving Bagus, David sighed, patted Ultium again, and whispered something to him.

Ceila was talking to Lint as if trying to extrapolate a way forward. Then they moved closer to her and looked at the huge portal up close.

Fuck me. This reeks of so much that I don't know what to make of it. What is it, really? Such big things must be known, yet the very few must do it, eh? Not me. Not us, yet... we are here right now. And they're gone inside?! David wondered to himself when he arrived by her side.

"I am thankful for Bagus," he said, "but that topic and rolling about Razmund may be a colossal mistake, even if I abide by your reasons, dear lady. It doesn't need hope or privileges. It sounds like mistaken hope."

"Hope?" Ceila said, eyeing him without turning to him. "More like a kick in the nuts. In hell, I would ever trust a Blessed like that. No Oath. No Chain. No reason. He will do its course like me, and you, and everyone here better watch out for their little lives, because what this is about isn't about silly wars. Want to hear what is right? Lint can guess it, right?"

"Nope!" Lint shouted, waving a hand before him.

"Then I am all ears," David urged.

"There are many things that are yet to be arranged and effective. They are moving, while I gathered we can't do every single thing right now. Perhaps it was a mistake, but what isn't a mistake? For you, it is. For me, it is, or is it yet to be that, so what's next? I let Razmund go even if it pains me and troubles us. I don't doubt his target would agree, but he would hate it too. He is a hateful little thing."

"A mistake with Razmund, you mean?" David said, giving Ceila a meaningful look. "That he is needed? Plot and all, we could've killed him and created something new. That isn't a fear. It is how the Encounters run and mature, and I am sure you have lived through at least ten of them!"

"Who ever heard of Encounter's main events dying in the First Part?" Ceila asked a good question, knowing that many had tried it before and failed. In Somalis, anyway.

There were far too many serious and difficult Gods overlooking every little thing all the freaking time. Now was no different, yet their blissful pieces were breaking, and it wasn't over just because they got furious.

It was the people who suffered the most, and they realized the status quo was changing, so lands and politics could crumble or waver like houses made of cards. All because their little hopeful piece got stolen, making them realize it could stop forever.

Whatever it is, change is fit when the time is right. When it isn't... Ceila frowned and pointed at Lint. "I was mistaken, but it was our Will. No need to regret it when he is still a broken man who has no clue what he is bearing with," she mumbled before shaking her head. "Can you lead us out or right to Paradise?"

"Paradise?" Lint scowled. "You want to push this invasion even further with your shitty group, eh? Are you prepared to face the consequences of your invasion messing with that place and Hell Party that I am sure you know?"

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"Not as if I am a regular Challenger." She argued, pointing to the rest of her team. "The last time I checked, I had accomplished few penalties. Wait. No. Scratch that. You did. Also, I got denizens and Helpers of the one who had gone there himself. Can't I follow them like shadows?"

Lint looked at that huge portal. "Hm. Whatever. That thing is no Paradise."

"Or so I've heard."

Lint perked up upon hearing her meaningful words, and his eyes swirled like storms. "HOW!? Don't be that! No! Don't! This place and Levandis are separate! Don't step on that!"

"I already did." She said coldly. "Forcefully so, or our little friend did."

Lint scratched his chin and heard dull sounds aside. Mindarch poked his little ghostly face out of a boulder, looking stealthy.

Ceila saw him immediately. "Look who shows up when everything is over? What a coward."

[G-greetings.] Mindarch waved at them with a little fingerless stud. [I can allow them to move through that preset and affected Chaos Space. Go. Gone with you! However, I don't warrant the time or safety of this route. It is old, so you'd better not get lost!]

Ceila shrugged. "As long as it is a proper one, getting us down is what's important. What is our portal anyway?" She asked her paladins, who all shrugged, not remembering it either, or perhaps they had forgotten that they could use any one of them in this entire Gate.

Lint gladly sent them off. One by one, the group disappeared into the large portal, well older than the Old World itself.

The privilege behind the Encounter wasn't over. It was still there, waiting and failing. Nobody should've come here anyway, which was evident by a lurking shadow at the entrance.

Lookish frowned at Lint, waving at the one who remained. "Gone?"

"Gone," Lint nodded.

[Gone...] Mindarch chirped. [Anyway, that was terrific. Back to Levandis. Cheers, you fools!] He disappeared before Lint gave him a single word or glance.

Lookish would stomp the spirit if he could, since he watched the destruction and mess around this room that was his fault. He shed a single tear when he walked forward, his red clock thinning and disappearing into a thin mist.

"So much work wasted. So much restoration wasted. Old things gone. I will die, I feel."

"Don't jest yourself, Lookish," Lint said as he turned to him. "Your work and time will be rewarded two-fold!"

Lookish glanced at him, his eyes sparkling with blood. "Just two?! Mindarch promised eight!"

"Anyway," Lint waved a hand. "Solve it all. I am leaving to find that moron who dropped who knows where. I hope he won't trouble this further. In fact, I darn hope this entire Encounter will drop dead or disappear to obscurity."

That was impossible.

Lint moved on, leaving Lookish to observe the arena. That one disordered pillar was one thing, but the other was the golem with a hole and its missing core.

Where is it? What did I miss? he wondered. Well, I had so much fun. Whatever. It's her loss.

He started cleaning this chamber when he realized he had left the pot on the stove. He hurried away, hoping he wasn't late.

***

Beyond this arena, Bagus was still in the pool of his blood, touched by a trustworthy friend. He almost wished to know the rest of his friends who ditched him.

His complexion was better than before, thanks to the divine light spell surrounding him, which lifted the dullness of his fading life. It was better when Itrosh finished half of her expected treatment, which involved rather harsh and large cuts and a ton of careful stitches.

The worst part was working with his sick head, size, and difficult feathers. One wound was quite ominous, weaving around his side and looking as big as her legs.

Bagus was moaning in fake pain and almost cried. "Be gentle," he whispered. "It feels so wrong to cut into me like this and make me feel nothing. What a fun time. It feels so wrong, yet like noth--."

"Shush," she hissed. "He did it, so why can't I? This sort of anesthesia should've made you mute as well. So much for my guilt and tears. Feels like a waste."

"Hey, I almost met my End, and you are like this? What guilt is there to be said? We talked about it. Fleeing the dreams, this room, or cave, or... whatever. I mean, I like Murai. That guy is a sorry soul, truly. You don't realize that."

"No," she shook and stabbed him with her finger, making him moan in fake distress. "And I don't need to. Souls and bodies are one thing, after all. We ought to have it all, yet who is he to us? Just a tool, some would say. Of course I don't. I liked him as I should."

"I knew it!" Bagus laughed.

"No kidding." She patted him and turned his wing around for even more stitching. "You are in pieces. So happy too, for a dying, wrecked monster."

"I went all out against Razmund! Why would I not be a little bit proud of that?"

"Because of our purpose, yes? Hopes? Not dying is a valid concern, by the way. Means nothing otherwise; it is no tale, history, or legend. You would just die and rot in this place, and nobody would remember it. You are nothing." Itrosh felt that she was forgetting something, but was too busy stitching.

The medallion resting on Bagus's head was still working its magic, yet in her mind, hurring to fuck off was slowly turning up a notch. It had fantastic effects for as long as the target wasn't moving, though one could move him instead if it were viable.

Itrosh couldn't do it, so...

The worst option happened.

A grim reality hit her until it screamed at her instincts.

"S-shouldn't we, like, move away? Flee? Hunters! I forgot! They could be..."

Steps and noises reverberated in the shaft when a bunch of Hunters found their way, returned, or remained in their pursuits, even with possible dreadful consequences of breaching a no-go zone. It didn't matter to them if Mindarch forbade their entrance to this land or described a very high sin was coming to claim their lives.

Hundreds of them stormed the same shaft from which Ceila and others had come, looking angry, wild, armed, and filled with ready techniques.

Orcuns looked enraged, grinding weapons against one another and grunting in war cries. Their Classes surged in slaughtering intent, while a few Totemists guided mana and empowered the rest with various items and runic chunks of metal and floating pillars.

An army of them had many styles, and Orcuns were large and burly, and they were coming.

Devils were also present, looking to be in the minority and less wild, as they appeared somewhat normal compared to the rest. Their skin varied in color, as did their angled horns and clothes. Most had uniforms in many styles and family crests. No Lurr was there—just subsidiary families or rogue devils who wouldn't accept no for answers.

The rest were a bunch of demonic Hunters who were here for blood and nothing else.

And they found a lot of it before them, almost waiting and trembling in their wake.

Bagus looked at them and thought of getting to his feet and ditching that medallion.

"They..." Itrosh hesitated. "I wasn't thinking straight! Why was I not thinking? They… She? That priestess hadn't killed them?! What about David and Ultium?! Fuckers… they left us here…"

"No matter what, they are here. Can you flee for me, so you would hiss about a great Grifhard who defied his fate?!" Bagus said sternly. "It sounds like a nice tale. I will hold them off for you."

Itrosh halted her voice like her arms, holding a needle and wet strips of thread.

War Cries echoed, shuddering the grounds and people and letting mana surge like waves of energy and rising suns.

Bagus grew nothing. He had nothing. A simple swing of his wing won't do much against such a group.

Anyway, he slammed Itrosh aside, who panicked, screeamed, and felt stupid and helpless. Then he tossed his medallion aside, turned it to smoke, and felt the time resume.

He accepted his blood flowing and churning once more. Many wounds reopened, but thanks to time and her care, he wasn't in immediate danger of falling or dying right away.

Not anymore.

The Hunters came instead, and his head looked straight at every one of them.

Then they halted, dropped techniques like their emotional faces, and every weapon wavered. Cold sweat spread around their bodies, their hands quivered, and then they fled like a bunch of pussies faced with a dragon. Fleeing for their lives, moaning, kicking, and crashing into each other, some even left their weapons behind.

Bagus watched them in astonishment, similar to Itrosh, who tumbled away before stopping and watching the same thing as him. She stopped by a wall and looked aside, where a single figure stood.

He walked, hunching and looking around. It was Lookish who came over, scratching his head with one hand and nodding to himself. He walked from the unknown, either missing his living quarters and offices, and passed Itrosh, and then stopped before Bagus.

"Oh, that is... what is it? Where is it?" He asked, confused. "Mind you, where have I left my stove, beast?"

Bagus turned, eyed this devil, and shook his head, uncertain what to tell. But one thing was cleaner: his blood had stopped bleeding. Instead, it was quivering and feeling as if it wanted to go deeper and hide forever. Then, his instincts kicked in, and he felt a surge of fear. An intense, crisp fear.

He didn't show it. He didn't have to since he felt so touched by his previous mindset, so this one felt like an incomprehensible sky. He was so in the mercy of this devil after his clash and everything, he would accept even God's Wrath coming at his head and not fear it in the slightest.

"Don't know?" Lookish asked and frowned. "Well... so be it. Ah, what to do!? I have so much to work with. What to do... Where… How…" he struggled and walked around and kept scratching whatever he could find and kicked any rock he saw.

Then, he stopped, slammed his palms together, and turned to Bagus.

"How about working for me? I need workers by now, you see. I didn't get any before. Something about rules and confidentiality, or so that busty lady thinks: but guess what?! Levandis owes me for this shitty invasion and guests coming over unannounced, and I hate these freaking prison-like conditions. Not that I hate it. I hate it. Yes. Let's go with it. I will establish a construction company in mind, though this is a little sensitive arena. You will work for free, of course. Curtesy is not dead, but Karma is. Anyway, let's get this going. We got a lot of work to do."

Bagus didn't reply; he just started and didn't know what to think. It was Itrosh who came over, shivering but closing on this devil with steady steps.

"W-who are you?" She asked.

Lookish turned to look at her, frowned, and then seized her neck until she screamed and couldn't breathe. She felt every hair on her body shiver, and her mind stopped thinking as her heart stopped and her blood felt seized. This aura was far too savage.

Up and down, Lookish regarded her with fewer intentions than Bagus.

"Hm. This one is… light. Not much is there, too, but that can change since a whole lot of things changed in this one. Yeah. Growing can be tough, young lady, and you have done a lot of shit to your body. Can you cook?"

She was confused but nodded.

Lookish dropped her, chuckled, clapped, and walked back to the opening. "Come on then. Work awaits."

Bagus looked behind him and helped Itrosh back to her feet, as he felt as if every injury had become old and inconsequential. Not a single Hunter remained.

"Is... this a good fortune, or have we got ourselves into big league troubles the moment we met Murai?" he asked Itrosh.

"I... would rather not think. Thanks."

Bagus thought about it more. In ways, more than he should. His instincts screamed and stopped, giving his Griffin Bloodline a loud thud. What was that devil? He wasn't healed, yet the blood no longer wanted to escape and run out.

Bagus also didn't die, albeit if he was a couple of moments late, maybe the Death would eat him whole. The same could be said about Itrosh and Ceila, who both helped him even though they didn't have to.

"No End today," Bagus cocked his head away, and felt a part of him die today.

Itrosh stood still, inspecting the departing Lookish, and grunted in helplessness.

"You're kidding me. Fine…" she uttered and slapped her neck if it was still there. She still felt that judgment and felt how that devil cut her apart with his gaze. "I think this is the safe route, but a devil is…. well, unless..."

"Want to go to Paradise, or back to Hellscape? Back... home? Do we have one?" Bagus asked quicker than she did.

"Fuck no!" she replied.

"Following dreams isn't that bad," Bagus mumbled and walked towards Lookish. "Life before End. Common sense before reasons. Our paths are yet to be over, but we can get lost and either weaken or become stronger. I am vulnerable."

"Screw them all and screw you for trying to move the immovable," Itrosh stomped the ground and walked to Lookish as well while supporting Bagus's wing. Whatever was behind her was no longer meaningful. Not when David didn't even look at her, and Ultium left like a foolish kid he was.

"Yet you came back," Bagus said, and felt a bunch of weapons poking him on his side.

"Everyone is an idiot. Truly. Myself included," she earned quite a few pokes before she calmed down and helped Bagus reach the mysterious area down below, where their lives would change forever.

***

At distinct drops of earth and Gates, things haven't been the best for the weirdly named spirit called Mindarch, who wasn't taking any breaks. He couldn't do them. He couldn't decide to sleep it off and call it the rest, let alone a beauty sleep. Being artificial wasn't a problem for him, as he never felt that way.

It was weird. He had memories, feelings, and even emotions, as well as an attachment to history and things to do and touch. He even found some enjoyment in all of that, which was both weird and amusing. It was great to be immortal, empowered by the planet itself, and assembled and formed by the former Sun God himself.

It wasn't right for him to sleep and act around immoral actions, so when the mess, like never before, came knocking on his door, he wasn't sure how far it would go. Perhaps it wasn't crazy at all, considering the history and all that jazz with Gods and Epochs that he knew of.

Though he was also liable for lies, lives, and kind of tricking it down to nonsense reasons and excuses, he didn't want it gone. Being alone wasn't fine. It gets boring really fucking fast, and that was annoying.

Still, maybe he didn't give a shit about any of this. Life was cheap, while being mischievous felt appropriate, given all the silly Gods and years that had passed since the Old World had passed.

He was unbound, almost masterless, and like tales of ronins that Blessed and Wicked had described in stories, or rewards, he wished to be called better. But no; the Mindarch was his name, bound to him and him alone.

It was an old name, evident by his many little bits, which had been looking at this land for a very long time. He also knew his shit, all sorts of places around the Death Valley, and this temple was even larger and full of mysterious and great stuff. It was fun overall.

It was about his home, and it attached everything, including his boundaries, which couldn't go too far. Levandis set them up, but today, things have changed.

A ridiculous Will came over and slapped it all down. He was still the mastermind. Its brain. Levandis couldn't tame him completely, nor bind him to see and do whatever she desired on the Surface.

He was the master here! He was the captain of this sunken ship.

Many would think the same, while many would laugh at him and call him a simple tool. The kind that they would never make, craft, find, or tame under any circumstances, so that was even more funny.

But Levandis did it, and by a large margin of work and stability, a long time ago.

The Sun God did the same thing even further back, and now, Levandis was trying to go even further, but couldn't. So she befriended the spirit instead, doing so in her own style, with contrast and compromises, while he had a choice.

He tackled this issue a bit better once Levandis formed a connection to his late master's inheritance. At least part of it was enough for him, and another fact was her sheer dedication to educating him, involving him, and giving him fun and little gifts.

Levandis would never go away, and who knew if she would ever receive the entire inheritance, so Mindarch grew accustomed to waiting and indulging in her large and mysterious ambitions.

She never left or weakened, which was often the case for many Gods who came to this world for the first time from the Skies Beyond.

He had never met such a land, though the complications that came with words weren't new to him. To see Endless Skies was even weirder, and Mindarch felt that name was silly, at best.

It was just a different perspective or a world set with new boundaries marked by a Third Epoch. Levandis kept living and kept her shit together, and that was commendable.

Now, tens of millennia later, Mindarch felt disturbed, aware, and learned a new thing every once in a while.

And after a long time, he felt the imminent change rapidly escalate, changing everything he had perceived for ages.

It wasn't much. He had seen enough history not to be impressed or be in anguish. Very few things would hurt him, frankly, and unless some nasty figures came and snatched him away, he would remain here forever.

They wouldn't bother with it, but who would be so sure of it? Not him. He didn't want to bet on his guesses anymore, for his former master was much better, unlike the current one.

He made connections, built relationships, and tried to reach out far away, only to have them reach back instead, with a dark history touching the rest of the voided memories.

Mindarch didn't mind this history. He was following Levandis behind like a shadow and followed her visions into one of the deepest and most secure trips under these lands. It wasn't closing at any Gate, path, cave, or place.

It was a simple dungeon seized and refurbished in a collapsed land, isolated from the rest of the world. This space was stable and worked quite well on its own. Levandis demanded it, as one managing what was within on her own accord. The rest of the connections, or this temple, were bound to her like a bough piece of a cabin.

Even Mindarch was reluctant to look at this cell—especially when she was here and looking totally vivid and seeping with raging Authority and Aspects of Hunger.

Whenever he entered behind her, coming here because he knew why, it often angered this goddess very much, but he still came over because it felt necessary. The other part was his trials to uncover the rest of the meaning and why this was so important to her. In a way, Mindarch couldn't understand it, as he was never truly alive.

It was essential, so how did it make sense? For a while, he observed, and nothing simple came out of it, and nothing ever left. That alone was unpleasant, and he knew what was bound to happen could spoil and change even more stuff.

He couldn't wait. It sounded far too fun to pass it as fake anyway.

[Seriously,] he said behind Levandis, who was in her usual attire consisting of a long silk robe, a lengthy scarf over her shoulders, with each end swaying behind her back.

Most of it was in duller colors, looking more grey with hints of soft redness, which was likely due to the place being quite dark, or her power. Not that it mattered; her vision, power, and hair were all striking in their own ways.

[Why are you doing this? Why left it, do it, and… come here? We've already discussed it with Kil, and it is not wrong. It is bizarre and—]

"Shush," she whispered as she walked.

[Fuck no! Why are you doing this!?] he asked her for the tenth time.

"Because," Levandis said stubbornly. "There is no point in watching these conflicts. In fact, you might just tell me how they go and call it a day since the outcome won't mistake me. Not anymore. I call it efficient, as I trust the process and as someone who shan't move, so speak to me like that, and I will do it back."

[I call it a nuisance, Levandis. It is your reason that troubles me. Cause as well. Cut into reputation, and we've put ourselves in a naughty corner. Add the mind, and I don't even know what to follow. What else is there? Do you have a conscience? What is conscience, you may ask?]

"Says a spirit following me like a dog," she scoffed at him and followed through a dark, veiled room, looking straight out of nightmares, before engaging with the seventh barrier that no other god should enter. Light behind ceased to exist, yet Life touched the Dread, and Dread became Life, and then the Death did something else.

It was eating, looking miserable, and her curtains of Hunger followed like endlessly revolving stomachs of dragons and monsters lost in the past.

Like a curse, moving shadows—the Void—snapped at her, resembling an enormous mouth with multiple claws, devouring anyone who would dare to approach.

Levandis flicked her finger, creating a hole the size of a mountain, and walked into a cozy, yet dark-looking room.

Many constructs surrounded the sides, working with machines, cables, screens, liquids, darkness, and soft light scattered in subtle hues. The ambiance was a bit better, but it still looked like a wild and dark laboratory.

Mindarch went after her, not distracted by those aspects or the Void. [I am not following you for nothing! What about Vermillion? Ravine? Old Ones? Razmund clashed against that Holy Party, Helpers, and you are here chasing a ghost!]

"That ghost, dear Archie!" She sharply turned and pointed at his face. Her stern face was cute, with eyes squinting and a mouth pouting. He wished to tease her about it, but he knew this wasn't clever right now. Not many saw her like this. Not many would dare, frankly.

He could. He eavesdropped on her for so long that he was almost tired of it since she didn't care. Her level of shame was so small that it was hard to convince her to think like a regular God.

But she was rousingly good with her subjects and kind to those truly deserving it. She could afford it, since who knew if this temple allowed most of this generosity anyway?

True Godly Blessing wasn't a big deal. The world's Boosts were the true magic of this planet and what twisted and grew this land for as long as it was living.

It wasn't as if the Sky Gods wanted the Hells to flourish and get better, or turn balanced upside down. But it often happened, and they couldn't prevent it. In a way, they required it since there was no peace in conflict and certainly no hope in peace.

For Levandis, there wasn't a single land of peace besides this little room. She grew her forces and matched the other Hells for a reason, and there was no escaping the conflicts that came with that.

Levandis stopped staring at Mindarch and lowered her finger.

"I mean, what to tell? Razmund will go on. Why would he not? Vermillion looks for something. In all of this, what's the reason for every soul or step? Well, she is craftier than many give her credit for, and Razmund follows more troubles because that's what comes with his position, life, and Centralis. He is a fine tool and even better fool. Those are always the trickier, stricter, or more easily changed when their point is settled and spent. He will hit that wall, but our little friend won't. He won't stop until this world is spent. They are fools and tools afterwards, or they are that from the start. That man is manipulated."

[Do you want to bet on that?]

"Not in the slightest," she turned again, hands grabbing her hips. "I am more... shocked. Angry too. Angry at you and everyone, yet you are cheeky and pitiful. How to tell it otherwise? How many days have you wasted by not telling me about this earlier?"

[That isn't right because not every action is just. I thought of it. Thought of it very hard and well and decided against it because I wasn't so sure until I got Kil and you involved.]

"And if you hadn't, I wouldn't get it? This!?" She swayed her hips, turning around, before facing him again after showing off her intentions. "You know it in pieces, yet you know me more than I think, which makes me wonder… if I should let it slide. But you are my precious tool, so…. are you disposable?"

[I do... know you.]

"You kept it from me... yet woke me up without it. Old One is here. Right now. And not just that, of course. You missed my point."

[Not him. He doesn't know anything, and neither do I.]

"Doesn't matter to me. Not to me. Him, or... well, she. She does matter! A LOT, by the way." She turned and ignored Mindarch, rolling his foggy eyes.

Then, he wavered and flew over her, growing and pointing a stud for an arm at her. [It was for the betterment of the station. Don't dare to piss it off even more.]

"I won't." She promised.

Mindarch paused. [Wait... wait?]

"No point." Levandis shrugged and walked through him. "I will be patient. Was patient for fifty years. Was patient for a bunch of cycles, too, and even more eras. What is some life for me? What is time for you or me?! It is here, and things are about to change, but not in the way they expect. It came to me… because it had to. Things are wretched out there, by Gods and Sky and…. Lordis wants this death. Hmph! How funny. I can't allow it, yet…. can I do a lot about it?"

Mindarch lost his words. This wasn't like her usual self. What changed? Who was she?

He was close to flying through her again, but changed his mind. Rather than losing his wits, he watched how she approached the sole treasure of this room. The one she cherished the most out of anything in this temple, including him, or any treasure.

It was an enormous tube, glossy, wiped clean, and filled with a see-through liquid, but not water. Thin light came from it, aiming from the ceiling, adding more ambiance and mystery.

Walking toward it, Levandis hadn't been here for a long time. She loved how clean it was and how much of it was right. It felt right, yet did it feel like home? Not really.

She leaned into the big construct, head resting on the glass, and even her lips close to it. Her palms moved around the cold glass. She hugged it, even though it was bigger than her, and hiding a figure inside, both naked and dead.

Levandis kissed the glass and whispered. "Come back, my queen. I was and will be waiting. Always and forever."

Mindarch watched how the scene unfolded and felt really freaking awkward. Before Levandis, a succubus lived in her death, waiting for decay to come or for nothing. Her End was already over. It was complicated to suppress when it happened, but there was no escape from it.

Finding the anchor was impossible when it was too long ago, yet this sentiment prevailed like a long tail, soft hair, and closed eyes on a quiet, ferocious face and body, revealing the nature of her rest. It was a vigorous, stoic, yet dead succubus, and Mindarch always wondered where this led to.

Now, it seemed it would end someday. In a manner that he no longer wished to meet, but he certainly couldn't die like this. He needed to know! He HAD to know!

His other hope was that Levandis wouldn't break everything in her wake to dreams or eventual doom. [Jesus, I will have to clean this glass again. I hope Thar won't mind this because I sure as hell do.]

[End of Book Five: Hellscape.]