It was an exclusive camp. Every top-200 World Ranker got an invite. So did the bigwigs of every major Faction. Reina had a full list—it was a who's who of the most powerful humans alive.
They chose a big ice sheet in the middle of nowhere for the same reason scientists chose an empty desert to test nuclear bombs. It was a lot of nowhere. Lots of room for bad mess-ups.
Reina also liked how it looked. The endless stretches of ice gave her a bittersweet feeling. Like melancholy, she said to him. She got in weird moods sometimes. She liked watching the sunsets here. Evan advocated for it too, in case they came across any other penguins. Reina pointed out that penguins don't live in the Arctic. But Evan said maybe the Change changed things. He clung onto hope.
So they were here now. No one wore anything special—especially after they got their new bloodlines, the sub-zero chill might as well be room temperature. And there were no Monsters here either. The North Pole was made up of enormous A-rank Safe Zones controlled by a joint task force. A task force made up of World Rankers from two regional hegemons: Valgard Shieldbearers of Scandinavia and the Queensland Guard of Canada. It was called the Arctic Alliance. Jarl Erik of Valgard had come to pick Zane's crew up—he greeted Zane with hearty slaps on the back. He'd dispatched a handsome longship to bear them to the training grounds. The crew were all very friendly.
They were happy to host the event. Their World Rankers wanted in on the workshop too. It wasn't every day Zane Walker hosted a lecture, they said.
Actually Zane was pretty sure this was his first time teaching. Outside of his little morning sessions, that was—and wasn't sure he could count those. He wondered if this was the best idea.
He had to be realistic. He knew he was not great at expressing himself. But Reina said she would help him out, which gave him some reassurance. It was often quite hard for others to get him, but Reina understood him very easily—sometimes just by glancing at him. If she was helping with the communicating, they'd be just fine. She had this magical power to make everyone listen to her and understand her and like her. Sometimes he could swear it was some kind of soul Skill. But no. She was just that woman.
***
It would take place in the evening. The reception took place on a miles-long float of ice, where a sumptuous meal was laid out – Reina's chefs had been hard at work, making meals out of A-grade Monster flesh drops. They spanned long rows buffet-style tables. Foods from every cuisine you could think of. Dozens of mouthwatering scents mingled in the air.
Evan and Avery went out searching for penguins.
Soon they started rolling in—starting in the early morning. Reina was out there being a good host, all winning smiles, welcoming everyone like they were old friends. Zane was just kind of there. Being there.
Zane was surprised how many came. Half of them came on longships and galleons, supplied by the Canadians. The other half on the backs of giant tamed whales—mostly Europeans. Valgard had fleets of them.
***
He saw lots of familiar faces. The first to arrive was Vanessa Volkova, at dawn. Her mind felt different to him than last time. Somehow colder, gone to ice. It wasn't just toward him—it was in general. She was very polite though. She gifted him a hunk of spirit steel—S-Grade, which Reina graciously accepted. It seemed the norm these days. She gave him a curtsy and a long complex look—then drifted away with her bear-cloaked retinue.
Then came some more Europeans. Nova Roma's representatives, a suave mustached bunch, clasped Zane's hands—they seemed very excited to be there. Excited to meet him. They brought some choice sweets for him and Reina—which doubled as rich essence treasures.
Behind them was the new French #1, Maxime Legrande, a Light Mage who came draped in an expensive-looking purple robe. He gave Zane a deep bow too. His gift was an S-ranked rune treasure that'd briefly severely buff the durability of anything, given sufficient essence. It was for Zane's training rooms—to help them withstand his power. As a matter of fact Zane had been in need of this.
Reina hadn't told anyone to bring gifts of course. But it seemed like everyone felt they had to show their respect to him.
Then a lot of the Asian Factions arrived—the Korean #1, World Rank #27, Jin Seo, a Level 184 tall, long-haired archer. Supposedly the best Wind fighter in the world, and the second-fastest behind Evan. He could nail the wings of a fly from hundreds of miles away. He brought Zane a gift too—an S-grade Meteorite Ore. Everyone knew he wanted Steel now apparently. He smiled, thanked Zane graciously for inviting him, and went off hunting whales with his troupe. He'd be back before the evening session began.
Lots of familiar faces followed. Brazil's Cristina Dos Santos, China's Jian Shi Ming. They brought him S-ranked essence treasures and metals. The hegemon of Southeast Asia, Somsak Srisuwon, who wielded wicked curved moon knives, gave him a vial of Nüwa's Tears—an S-ranked treasure that would help Zane recover from soul fatigue faster.
Lots of useful stuff.
Soon chatter spilled over the ice floats. After paying their respects one by one, the World Rankers spread out. They talked over shared wines, talked amiably—there was a general mood of lightness. Folks were still basking in the relief of avoiding impending doom. He saw Yuki the Sky Painter—who had gifted him a bushel of S-rank True Dragonfruit—sweet-talking a blushing South African girl ranked in the mid-30s.
Eze soon got there too. Zane was relieved. Neither of them were particularly chatty or social people. But with each other, they were comfortable going back and forth in short clipped phrases, sometimes grunts, sometimes long silences, and that was fine. He clapped Zane on the back and strode off. But not before gifting something for Reina. An S-rank rune that would strongly buff any armors she wore. Zane was quite grateful.
Soon a surprise guest came. D'Angelo Hall. Reina was dithering on whether to invite the Empire Faction or not—but they represented such a huge swathe of America and had tons of World Rankers in their ranks. It would be good for humanity. But she looked to Zane. Zane shrugged. So she sent it. They didn't think he would actually come.
D'Angelo was greeted with silence from everyone else. They all remembered the few who didn't show up to humanity's last stand. But if the man cared, he didn't show it. He shrugged, sought out some caviar and wine, and ate alone. It wasn't truly fair—it was Jason who made the decision to stay home and barricade themselves in. Look out for themselves. But that was Jason for you, and D'Angelo didn't care much either way. So he went along with it.
D'Angelo was quietly World Rank #3. It was Jason who did most of the fighting, but out of the two of them, Reina said, it was hard to tell who was truly stronger. D'Angelo fought weird—his Signature Title was 'Fourth Dimension.' When he threw his shots, you could never see them coming—they hit you out of nowhere at all. Basically unblockable.
But he seemed a nice enough guy. He kept Jason in check. And he was very polite when he greeted Zane and Reina.
By late afternoon the Pacific Islanders, Aussies, and Kiwis, North Africans started showing up—the float was getting crowded. By then it was almost easier to name people on the World Rankings who weren't there. Even those who were 20 or 30 Levels away from Core would find this useful. And they could share it with their Factions too.
Cain Hastings and a bunch of other Europeans had drifted off to another float. They started playing fireball soccer against a squad composed chiefly of South Americans. Cristina Dos Santos captained the other team. She almost got into a fistfight with German #1, Gunther Schwartz, after a bad foul—Reina had to run in to break it up.
A few stray World Rankers showed up too. World Rankers without a Faction, who struck out alone. World Rank #24, Leonidas Makris, had been one of Nova Roma's leaders—but he'd split off after some internal squabbling. He was a delicate-looking man who wielded a harp as his Spirit Weapon. There was World Rank #16, Lucia the Beast Queen, who had cracked the Top 20 only recently but had a meteoric rise. She lived on her own private island off the coast of Argentina; she flew a dragon to get over. She was accompanied by a small nest of the creatures. All kinds of dragons. Some long-necked and small-winged, some fat and big-winged, some snorting frost, some smoke.
All the best of humanity, in all their varieties, had come to hear him speak. Zane was just surprised by how he was received. Even the proudest of them—and these were World Rankers, very few lacked for pride—bowed to him, or inclined their heads, and made their offerings.
It was like the greatest summit of World Leaders there were, summoned by his call. Reina observed that you could see how everyone stood—the hierarchy—by the way they looked at each other. Some, like Eze, got a lot more reverence than others. If humanity was a kingdom, and this was a royal ball, these were the nobles. He and Reina were kept busy that whole time—folk just kept coming up to them, making conversation. Reina handled most of it with grace.
She looked to Zane from time to time. She didn't need to say anything. She just stroked his arm gently. She was proud to be queen. And everyone knew who the king was.
They had all come to pay tribute. Zane had accumulated nearly a hundred A-grade treasures, and nearly forty S-grade treasures, by the end of it.
***
Evening had come. It was time for Zane to speak. All the chatter had died down—everyone was turning to him.
They all gathered before him, ranged in a wide grid. Reina had set it up this way—she'd marked out their spots with mats. "Please sit," she asked, and they did. Hundreds of gazes looked to him burning with eagerness, with curiosity.
"Today's subject," said Reina, voice clear and bright. "Is the formation of the Seamless Core. It's what gives Zane his uniquely powerful essence. Essence that he used to vanquish the Monster Knight."
You couldn't get more rapt attention then this.
"It takes a huge amount of practice, and soul Skill. I want to set expectations. Zane's soul is special. It's unlikely you'll be able to achieve the exact grade of Core he has—yes, even you, who are the most talented in the world. But. Even getting close to that grade will make a world of difference. It'll make your essence, pound-for-pound, as strong as that Minotaur's. If not stronger."
Lots of murmurings at that.
Reina waited for it to calm down. "First," she said. "Zane would like to lead us through a hands-on exercise. It'll help us understand the Core Formation process. Zane, if you will?"
Zane nodded.
There was actually another reason they selected the North Pole.
He sat down on the mat, in front of all these world leaders. Pinched together some snow. And started rubbing it together. The snow here was from an A-ranked dungeon—laced through with Laws of Ice. It wouldn't shatter easily and held together well.
Baffled silence.
Soon he had a ball.
"Today," he said. "We are going to make a snowman."
Those top World Rankers—stately, dignified folk—looked at one another, wondering if he was joking.
But it was clear he was not. He kept packing on snow. Diligently, layer after layer. All peaceful.
It said something about the kind of regard they held him in that in the end, not a single one of them questioned him.
Soon everyone started doing it. Two hundred world leaders—everyone from Emeka Eze to Vanessa Volkova—just sat there. Studiously rolling up balls of snow.