Snowy plains
Two towering figures clashed endlessly in a battle of unparalleled might, their vast forms locked in close combat. The fight had been going on for centuries, their sheer power reshaping the region into an unrecognizable wasteland. Once vibrant with lush green forests teeming with life had been transformed into snowy plains that now stretched for millions of miles, their stark whiteness bearing the scars of unrelenting conflict.
Glacethor, the embodiment of ice, stood in the midst of the frozen expanse. Frost clung to his crystalline form, and every step he took turned the ground beneath him into solid ice. His breaths came slower now, exhaustion evident after centuries of relentless combat against Atherion, the radiant Primordial of Light. Yet, his stance remained steady, his resolve as unyielding as the ice he commanded.
Atherion hovered a few miles away, glowing with an aura of divine radiance. Around him, the snow and ice melted in a widening radius, leaving a trail of glistening water. But the land, loyal to Glacethor's dominion, fought back—tendrils of frost snaking toward the pools, freezing them solid again, inch by inch, as if trying to entomb him in ice.
Breaking the silence, Atherion's voice rang out, resonating with power and self-assuredness. "This herb radiates the brilliance of light itself—pure, untouchable, and divine. It was made for someone of my caliber, Glacethor, so do yourself a favor and step aside."
Glacethor stood motionless, his icy gaze locked onto Atherion. His voice was calm and frigid, like the cold winds of a blizzard. "What resides within my territory is mine by every right. You stand on my domain, attempting to claim what is not yours. Tell me, on what basis do you act as though this treasure belongs to you?"
Their words hung heavy in the air, their opposing forces—frost and light—clashing invisibly even as they spoke.
Before Atherion could answer Glacethor's challenge, a sudden message echoed in his mind. It spoke of the Monolith of Time, a treasure whose mere mention sent a shiver of anticipation through his radiant form. Atherion's expression flickered briefly, betraying his surprise, but he quickly masked it.
Glacethor caught the momentary flicker. Though he too received the same message, his cold, detached demeanor gave nothing away. His frozen features and the air of stillness around him concealed his thoughts.
Atherion glanced at Glacethor, trying to discern if he had also heard the summons, but seeing his unchanging expression, he dismissed the possibility. "Is it a trap? Should I go? Do I abandon this herb for a chance at something far greater?" His mind raced with conflicting thoughts.
Moments later, resolve overtook him. The allure of the Monolith of Time was too great to ignore. "If I get it, my strength will soar. My light beam attacks will become unimaginably fast… no one will rival me. Only someone of my caliber deserves such power." Atherion's aura flared with excitement, and without hesitation, he transformed into a brilliant beam of light and darted toward the Monolith's location, disappearing into the horizon.
Glacethor stood still, watching as Atherion vanished at blinding speed. He lowered himself onto the frozen ground, sitting with an air of calm. Slowly, he began to recharge his energy, the cold around him intensifying as frost spread outward in steady pulses.
"Hmm… should I go?" he muttered to himself, his voice low and contemplative. After a moment, he shook his head. "No. Going there now is no different from walking into chaos. The Monolith will draw every ambitious fool in the divine realm like moths to a flame." His icy gaze turned toward the frozen plains. "How many will survive such a gathering? And how many will succumb to their greed?"
Pushing the thought aside, Glacethor stood and made his way toward the crystalline herb—a translucent, luminous plant nestled amidst the frost. Its crystalline leaves refracted light into shimmering rainbows, glowing faintly with warmth even in the biting cold. Glacethor sat down near it, his aura settling. He would not abandon his treasure for the allure of another. Patience was his strength, and he would wait until the herb fully matured.
...
Vyrinox sat cross-legged in the dark cave, his eyes locked onto the incomplete monolith before him. The shimmering fragment of space law emanated faint pulses of energy, filling the confined space with a faint hum. He studied it with awe, his expression a mixture of reverence and regret.
"Without this…" he muttered, shaking his head, "I would've never reached the fourth rank of space laws." His voice carried a hint of exhaustion and wonder. From the incomplete monolith, he had pieced together a vital understanding: all laws, not just space, were divided into nine ranks. Each rank contained different numbers of primary aspects and countless sub-aspects, most of which were still shrouded in mystery.
Comprehending even a single rank was a monumental task, one that demanded endless time and effort.To have reached the fourth rank in such a short period felt like a miracle. Normally, it would have required centuries of relentless comprehension and training. But with the incomplete monolith, he had bypassed years of toil. Yet, the fragment's incompleteness gnawed at him. He sighed deeply, his hand running along the cold, smooth surface of the monolith.
"I should've taken the whole thing," he admitted to himself, his tone bitter tinged with faint regret. "But… this is enough for now."as he looked at the incomplete monolith. He clenched his fist as anxiety crept into his mind. "I'll need it to secure my life. But the real question is…can I even outrun Vastoth?"
The thought of the space-wielding primordial sent a shiver down his spine. Vastoth's mastery of space laws surpassed his own, and even with deception laws at his disposal, Vyrinox knew he was at a disadvantage. His fear was tangible, a sharp reminder of how close he had come to death.
"The only way I can survive his pursuit," Vyrinox muttered, his voice low and tense, "is by fully mastering my deception law." His gaze darkened as he mulled over his next steps. "But to do that, I would need a monolith with my law," he said, his mind racing on where could he find such a thing? The divine realm was unimaginably vast, and the risks of running into Vastoth again were high.
Just the thought of it made his brows furrow tightly. "If I come face to face with him again…" He shook his head, his resolve hardening. "I'll die."
Suddenly, a thought struck him. "Time…" he whispered, the word lingering on his tongue. "Yes, time is what I'm missing." His expression shifted, determination lighting up his eyes. He stood, the weight of his decision steadying him. If he stayed in the divine realm, he would eventually be found. But if he left… if he hid in another realm where Vastoth couldn't follow, he could buy the time he needed to strengthen himself.
"Vastoth would never expect me to leave the divine realm," Vyrinox said with newfound confidence. Relief washed over him as he made up his mind.
But just as he prepared to depart, a sudden, piercing message echoed in his mind. It was a summons, clear and impossible to ignore. The voice carried a gravity that made him halt mid-step. His brow furrowed deeply, and his eyes instinctively turned eastward.
His jaw tightened as uncertainty gripped him. The summons came from the eastern part of the divine realm, the most volatile place where danger thrived. He hovered in the air, indecision plastered across his face.
"This…" he whispered, the words sticking in his throat. He stood still for hours, weighing the odds, his mind a battlefield of hesitation and ambition. Finally, he spoke again, his voice resolute despite the fear in his heart.
"Ninety percent chance of death… but ten percent is still a chance. Better than nothing. If I turn away now, I'll live, but I'll be constantly hiding. Mediocre. Forgotten." His fists clenched as he forced himself to confront the truth. "This is the only way to break free,the only path to what I deserve."
He exhaled sharply, his eyes narrowing with fierce determination. "Fear won't change the odds, and hesitation will only waste time. I've gambled with less before. This time, the stakes are worth it."
He immediately darted towards the east, a blur of motion as his mind raced to account for every possible variable.`If I'm smart enough… if I plan this right… I'll turn that ten percent into a hundred.'