The veiled woman nodded.
"Yes, His Highness has finally found the ruins of death. He wishes for you and the other two to accompany him."
Amon raised a brow in surprise.
"All three of us? At once?"
Understanding his surprise, she nodded in confirmation.
"Yes, His Highness does not want to risk anything. He's bringing you three out and summoning his twelve royal guards. We'll be setting off in a few hours."
Amon nodded without much care.
"Have you brought me—"
Before he could finish his words, three floating black spears appeared in front of him, radiating a terrifying light.
They were all identical, with long black poles etched with designs of golden clouds, each having a single-sided sharp blade with a dark red edge that reeked of blood and destruction.
All over the pole, magnificent runes of white and green danced.
Seeing this, Amon nodded once more and took these spears, tearing off a part of his pants to strap them to his back using the fabric.
'Status.'
~~~
[Name: Amon Celekria Thanakree]
[Titles: Dungeon Diver, <•••••>, <•••••>, Son of <•••••>, <••••••>, Beginner's Curse, Master, Survivor, Iron Forged Star, Indomitable, Limit Breaker]
• Aether Mark Quality: N/A
{Physical Stats: 0.1~>1}
{Soul Stats: 0.3~>1}
{Aether Stats: 0.9~>1}
{Core Stats: 0.1~>1}
{Affinity Stats: 1.9~>1}
[Status: Healthy, calm]
~~~
Using aether, the system of power was complex yet incredibly simple.
By killing other living beings, humanoid or not, one would gather pure origin aether, the equivalent of experience within games on Earth.
Then, using this experience, one had to form aether marks—these marks represented an elevation of power and an addition of stats.
Usually, one aether mark equaled one regular stat, but this stat varied from person to person. Even then, the quality of the aether mark varied depending on the foundation built.
The first full stat represented the peak of one's natural potential without aether. Obviously, it wouldn't be the same for a Titan and a Human.
But it became more complicated when the grade of the aether mark was factored in, because depending on the grade, the aether mark either became additive, multiplicative, or both.
The former meant they'd simply get a +1 on all their stats whenever they formed their marks. The second meant they'd get a x2 or more to their stats whenever they formed their marks, and the latter meant they'd get both.
Aether marks were divided into thirteen grades, and there was a simple way to form a high-tier aether mark.
They had to gather as much pure origin aether to form their first mark, as it would set their grade and standard.
The first aether mark usually cost the most for those who sought to set monstrous foundations, but after that, the cost of aether to form a mark became equal for all, giving a terrifying advantage to those who'd formed high-tier marks.
Essentially, they were getting godly power from every mark at the price of scraps.
So the question was, why hadn't Amon advanced? With all the people he'd been forced to kill in the last century, surely he should've gotten enough to form a high-tier mark?
Well, the answer was simple. Thanks to his growth gift, after reaching his original stat limit of one, he noticed that he still kept getting more and more powerful, as somehow, his body absorbed atmospheric aether to empower and elevate itself.
His gift was essentially breaking the limits of the possible.
While he was still without any marks, currently, he'd long since surpassed the limits of humanity and could currently contend with very high-tier upper-marked cultivators as he waited and accumulated origin aether.
The first three realms of aether ascension were called Awakener, Acolyte, and Initiate, but even then, he had no trouble stepping over them all in the last hundred years.
So far, after surpassing the limits of human potential, he'd encountered fourteen walls that limited him, and he suspected that after he shattered the barrier of the fifteenth, he'd finally have reached the limits of the possible, thus allowing him to both have a terrifying fundamental stat value and to also form a high-tier aether mark to complement this.
It was only a matter of months before this happened.
As Amon lost himself within his thoughts for a moment, a blue sheen of oppressive light enveloped him, forcing the woman to her knees.
"My apologies. I lost focus."
In the next instant, the pressure vanished, and he helped the woman up.
"Let us go."
***
In the skies, a grand carriage was being carried through the harsh winds by a dozen winged horses that moved at speeds surpassing those of planes.
Within the carriage, Kuwan, twelve fully armored warriors, and three strange figures could be seen.
The twelve armored warriors, Prince Kuwan's Royal Guards, wore armors fully gilded, resembling bodysuits more than regular armor. Their faces were covered by metallic plates, the only thing felt from them being terrifying power.
In another corner of the carriage, Amon and the other two 'toys' sat.
One was an old man wearing luxurious robes of white and grey, his features rather refined for a man in his late sixties. He emitted an aura of pure mastery and skill, with three katanas visible at his hip.
The light within his cold brown eyes seemed able to sunder anything apart, and his short slicked-back white hair and beard were just as sharply groomed as his aura.
The other was a young woman—no, a child. She seemed to be barely ten years old, yet the aura that oozed off of her reeked of ancientness and vicissitude.
Unlike the two, her weapons were atypical. Atop her head, two encased chakrams could be seen, spinning akin to an angel's halo.
Her long red hair perfectly complemented her deep draconic golden pupils as she sat with her arms crossed, her gaze stern.
Just like the old man, she wore robes of utter luxury.
Suddenly, Amato, the old man, looked at Amon and spoke.
"You still won't listen, eh?"