Damian had watched the final moments of 'Humanities army' fall, with emotionless eyes betraying no hint of satisfaction or remorse. He had observed the battle unfold from start to finish, so imagine his surprise when Elijah, one of his 'Master's' key targets, marked for early elimination and who was meant to be incinerated, was now once again moving about, his body unscathed of any injuries yet devoid of any equipment.
"Master… it seems we have a problem," Damian spoke, his voice devoid of emotion. He was also known by his title 'Blood Lord,' and delivered the news to his 'Master' with chilling detachment.
"Explain." The single, stone-like word reverberated in Damian's mind through the patronage connection he had with his 'Master'. The voice that he heard was a cacophony of noise, as if many people were speaking simultaneously, their tones layered over one another. Nevertheless, upon receiving his master's order, Damian quickly and concisely summarised what he had witnessed.
"Elijah Thompson is alive…" Damian paused, letting the weight of his words sink in.
"Hm… interesting." His master's voice returned, laced with intrigue, but he added nothing more.
The apostles were players who pledged allegiance to each of the Seven Supremes of this world, and Damian similarly served a denizen of this world. However, unlike the apostles, his master was not a Supreme. Unlike those transcendent beings, his master was merely an ascended.
However, where the Supremes wielded power and ruled with tyrannical force, Damian's master was insidious and cunning. This entire plan, this elaborate scheme, had come to fruition due to his master's meticulous planning.
Though his master might not possess overwhelming strength, he was devilishly cunning and had cultivated a loyal network of minions within all the major organisations. Even if Damian had not been aware of the current forces at play, his master had orchestrated his placement here with calculated precision.
His master appeared to be a begrudging servant of the Supremes, bound not by authority but by a servitude rooted in power. Disobedience meant destruction, and thus, the Supremes had decreed that the humans must be stopped here, in this layer of hell.
Damian had long ago made a deal with the literal devil, seeking vengeance against the humans who had killed his sister. In exchange for his soul, he had become an instrument of his master's will, and within him resided one of his master's 'parasitic pieces'. Even if a flicker of humanity attempted to resurface within him, that piece swiftly suppressed it, ensuring he remained an emotionless piece, an ideal tool for his master's nefarious plans.
Damian had been ordered to infiltrate 'Humanities army' and work alongside 'Humanities Sword' until this inevitable betrayal.
His master had secured aid from the Supremes of this world, leading to the deployment of two apostles to this battlefield. His master's strategy was also straightforward. Observe and sacrifice his minions as necessary but refrain from directly engaging in the battle.
Instead, Damian was to deal with any stragglers or any survivor who tried to break free and escape. 'Humanities Sword' made commendable efforts to assist a unit of his comrades in breaking free, but Damian had already handled them.
After the death of 'The Gourmet', Francois, and the chaotic departure of 'The Apocalypse', Liament, the mentally broken apostle of Satan who was now looking for the next thing to blow up, Damian was left with the spoils of this battle, free to claim any remaining loot and items for himself and, of course, his master.
Damian's 'master's' plan was clear and insidious. Sacrifice others and then reap the rewards. It was expected from such a cunning demon. After this ordeal, Damian would return to Earth, under the guise of a pained leader who had lost many of his own underlings and tried his best to aid 'Humanities army' all before preparing for another of his master's schemes.
"Should I strike?" Damian asked, his voice steady and emotionless.
"No. As mentioned before, a wounded beast is dangerous, especially if it's a player. Wait and watch for now. Afterall… Nobody is coming to this battlefield now."
"Understood!" Damian replied, his voice steady as he resumed his watch over Elijah. Every subtle movement of the wounded hero was meticulously observed, each flicker of emotion or shift in posture relayed back to his master in vivid detail.
Every ounce of information was invaluable, feeding into his master's grand scheme. The blood-red landscape, littered with the remnants of battle, became a canvas upon which Damian painted his observations, ensuring that nothing escaped his notice.
Elijah gazed upon the lifeless body of his dear friend, a profound sense of self-doubt gnawing at him.
"If only I had been stronger," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath.
Elijah could not escape the bitter regret that clung to him. He had been part of a tightly knit party led by his best friend Kenji, and Elijah had the role of a tank. Elijah's purpose was to shield those behind him and be the unyielding bulwark that stood between his friends and danger, providing them with those precious moments they needed in the heat of battle.
Yet, at the very beginning of their last battle. No, not a battle. A well-planned ambush! Elijah had been caught in a trap, an explosive assault of such ferocity that it eviscerated him before the battle truly began. Sure, it wasn't his fault, and there was nothing he could do, but still, he wished if only he could have been there to help his comrades fight; maybe then Kenji would have survived.
Surveying the battlefield, Elijah's gaze fell upon the fallen forms of his comrades. They had fought valiantly, and their loss weighed heavily on his chest. Over the many years, he had grown accustomed to death's grim presence, having seen friends, family, and loved ones perish in the unforgiving Ascension Trails.
However, Elijah knew he could not waver now. His mind had been forged in the crucible of countless perilous battles, and he could not afford to let his emotions consume him. The promises he had made and the responsibilities he bore demanded that he carry on. If he faltered, if he allowed his raging emotions to take control, what hope remained for the surviving humans in this merciless new world?
No! Elijah would regroup and regather those who had survived, even if it granted humanity but a fleeting respite. Despite the looming futility, he refused to yield, to kneel and allow everything to crumble into oblivion.
"Damn it, Kenji! You've left me here with all this mess!"
With a resigned sigh, Elijah shifted his attention to the enigmatic, egg-shaped object. His only functioning hand cradled the object, drawing it closer for careful examination. Kenji, his closest friend and his brother had left it behind for a reason, and Elijah was determined to uncover its purpose.
Unable to channel enough mana to use a skill. Instead, Elijah took a deep breath and carefully retrieved the 'spatial ring' from Kenji's finger and sent a small sliver of his mana into the item 'mana binding' the epic ranked 'spatial ring'. As he searched through the ring's contents, he swiftly found a one-time-use scroll, a rare rank 'Analyse Scroll', and without hesitation, he tore the scroll apart, activating it.
Scrolls weren't particularly expensive, and they did not take mana to use as a one-time use item. Instead, they contained stored mana that simply needed to be ripped open to function.
As he tore the scroll, an azure, ethereal screen materialised before his eyes, revealing the item's information.
Item: Unknown
Rank: Unknown
Enchantments: Unknown
Description:
In the realm where time drifts like an ethereal river, a relentless undertow forever beckons the chance of reversal. A titan, driven to madness by the insatiable hunger to devour his own progeny, sought to alter that river's course, to defy the inevitable. Yet, his ambition met its end, and his dominion over time was severed. His potency, once two, where separated. One cast away to the far reaches of space whilst the other remained.
Elijah, though momentarily vexed by the lack of information, resigned himself to the fact that the mere 'rare' rank 'Analyse scroll' had its limits, especially when confronting more formidable items. If anything, the mysterious nature of the egg-shaped item only deepened his intrigue.
"How am I supposed to use this? Damn it, Kenji, you could have given me a clue," Elijah grumbled.
In response to Elijah's frustration, another ethereal screen materialised before him.
System Notification:
Would you like to use this Item?
Y/N
Warning! If used, this item will have a significant impact on time. Time will be reversed. Mortals will forget, but the Ascended will always remember.
Warning! ...
As the system notification cascaded down, a flood of cautionary notifications followed. However, Elijah's focus remained fixated on a particular segment.
"Time will be reversed. Unbelievable!"
Elijah's gaze shifted back to his fallen friend, his eyes ablaze with anger before he sighed, his tone sombre.
"Kenji, you stubborn fool. Why didn't you use it?"
After a moment of contemplation, Elijah's eyes took on a resolute gleam as he regarded Kenji's lifeless form.
"If you had this much faith in me, I'll go back! I'll do it again, and this time, I'll save everyone!"
With fervour fuelled by his emotions, Elijah's eyes returned to the ethereal screen, and he firmly pressed the 'Yes' button.
And with that declaration, the Ascension Trial came to a standstill. The entire third dimension plunged into darkness as the threads of fate reversed their course, winding back further and further in time.
Outside the third dimension, in the fourth, where the purpose of the trials was known to beings possessing far greater souls. To these beings inhabiting diverse worlds, a different system notification appeared before them.
Their blood-red ethereal screens displayed an alternative notification.
System Notification:
Spatial distortion detected. Time and fate have rewound. A divine-ranked item has been used.
Warning! The Ascension Trials will temporarily pause. The planet designated as Earth will travel back through the river of time, returning the Ascension Trials to a previous stage.
Warning! The divine item's energy is rewinding the flow of time to an unknown focal destination.
Time since Ascension Trial: 30Years, 11 Days, 10 Hours, 24 Minutes, 46 Seconds → 29 Years, 10 Days, 10 Hours, 19 Minutes, 30 Seconds → 28 Years, 4 Days, 10 Hours, 7 Minutes, 58 Seconds
As the notification unfolded, time continued its relentless rewind.
However, while time rewound for the mortals of Earth, the pitiful humans caught in the throes of the Ascension Trials, it flowed unabated for other, far mightier beings.
On a planet uncannily reminiscent of the one recently beset by the Earthlings' battles, deep beneath the surface, meandering the caverns and layers of hell, the demon world unfurled in all its unrelenting harshness and desolation.
A harsh, unforgiving landscape stretched out, devoid of life and teeming with jagged, obsidian formations. Windswept plains of jagged stone extended as far as the eye could see, marred only by the occasional burst of crimson-hued geysers that erupted with malevolent intent.
Within this chaotic landscape, snaking its way underground and moving between the layers of hell, a large dark brown worm-like creature effortlessly moved through the thick rock. Its jaws and green acid made quick work of the thick earth before it, and its angled armour-plated body moved all the loose earth from in front to around its body and behind it.
Inside this 2m tall and 15m long creature, within a fleshy space far larger than the creature's outward appearance, another worm-like creature lay ensconced in immobility. This demon worm, no, not a worm, but a parasite, was not endowed with great size or power compared to its other demonic kind; instead, its form was more compact and bulging, almost squishy in appearance.
Its grotesque form, bereft of eyes, was draped in a sinister tapestry of smaller, subservient parasites that covered its body like a living shroud. These diminutive parasites served as loyal drones, executing their master's inscrutable commands. The main parasite's body was also painted with faintly red glowing markings, almost like tribal tattoos, which pulsed with the movement of the drones.
From the creature's perspective, it engaged with a multitude of screens, far too many for any ordinary being to fathom, yet it handled them all with seamless efficiency. That was because, unlike ordinary creatures, this creature's mind was fragmented. Fragmented yet also unified, allowing it to adeptly manage the numerous tasks it undertook with seamless ease.
On one of these screens, the creature observed the battle that had transpired in a replica of its own world. It witnessed humanity's futile struggle to defy fate through one of its pieces, the 'Bishop Piece' Damian, also titled 'Blood lord'. Damian was unaware that through the 'Parasitic piece', his master could also see the world through his eyes.
This being, connected through its grotesque brood, bore witness to all the major happenings of the human world. After all, it was both the hive mind and the mastermind behind the demonic organisation known as 'The Confluence.'
On a blood-red screen, the parasite observed an interaction that sparked an unusual emotion. The man it had identified as one of its prime targets, one that needed to be eliminated first, was once again alive and active. The creature was… Glad? Excitement was perhaps a more fitting term.
Humanity had played a pivotal role in its ascent to power. A calculated gamble had propelled it through the ranks of demons, allowing it to be at its current rank.
Yet, the power it currently possessed was not sufficient. It yearned for more, an insatiable thirst to ascend to the level of the Supremes or perhaps even surpass them. But alas, its own progression would stop here, along with the humans it had watched for so long.
The Supremes had issued orders to halt humanity's progress, as they had done with countless others on their path of ascension, culminating in their eventual eradication. Duty-bound, the parasite had no choice but to obey their command lest their anger turn on it instead.
Yet, within the depths of its being, it experienced a peculiar sense of unease—an emotion so human-like, an oddity in the demon's world, where such sentiments were considered obsolete and scorned. It contemplated the hypocrisy of the supreme beings, or princes as they called themselves, as they, too, were led by their sins.
As the human interacted with the egg-shaped object, a new screen materialised, alerting the creature to a change in the unfolding events. Initially confused, it quickly deduced that this shift was related to the enigmatic object.
The demonic creature's physical form was not its most potent asset, which was why it lurked in the darkest corners of hell's underground world, well beyond the reach of inquisitive gazes. Nevertheless, its intellect shone with unparalleled brilliance.
For it bore the name Malgrith and was titled 'The Hive,' a title befitting the mastermind behind 'The Confluence.'
As the Ascended being, known as Malgrith, saw the system notification, its fragmented minds, each having been working on separate tasks, now worked together to understand what had happened.
Malgrith scrutinised the object it assumed was at the root of this perplexing disturbance. Only a rare few things possessed the potency to influence the system to this extent, and given its widespread impact, Malgrith surmised that it must be of the 'Divine' rank, something the system notification only further proved.
Simultaneously, the implications of the system notification unravelled within Malgrith's thoughts. The Ascension Trials were being rewound. The third dimension was regressing along with its inhabitants. Yet, the object's influence did not extend to the fourth dimension, where Malgrith and the countless other beings dwelled.
"Could this be fate? Perhaps an opportunity!" Malgrith mused aloud. Its hoarse, deep voice caused its monstrous form to shudder, transmitting its vibrations through the cavern and eliciting a synchronised response from its smaller broods—the obedient drones.
The timeline was rewinding, and with it, the Ascension Trials. Malgrith's power, however, remained unaltered. The prospect of seizing greater power left it elated, causing its monstrous form to writhe and pulse with anticipation.
Yet, amidst its jubilation, the myriad minds within Malgrith contemplated how to exploit this situation fully. While harnessing the humans once more to accumulate even greater power was the obvious decision, it was reaching a point of diminishing returns. A precipice its current form could not surmount. Even with this newfound opportunity, further growth appeared challenging.
Malgrith's thoughts veered towards the Supremes that ruled this world, beings of unparalleled might who had transcended long before the Ascension Trials were conceived. Regardless of its efforts, bridging the chasm to their level, acquiring their power, or even emulating their skills seemed like an insurmountable task.
Yet, the relentless desire for power persisted within Malgrith, an intrinsic yearning that drove its demonic nature.
"The Ascension Trials... perhaps it's time for a different approach?"
Closing the system notification with a decisive gesture, Malgrith engaged with the myriad screens before it. It assessed its current resources and took stock of the items nestled within its inventory whilst meticulously planning its future course of action.
For when the time had stopped rewinding, and the trial reconvened, it would make its move.