The rest of the night was a blur of celebration. Moyo watched from a distance, amused by the bustling festivities and the awe-struck citizens of Bastion trying to catch a glimpse of him. Their cheers and joy resonated in the air, but he stayed detached, quietly observing the thriving city he had helped build.
When he retired to his quarters in the inner sanctum, an overly enthusiastic ascender escorted him. The young man peppered him with flattering and borderline ridiculous questions, which Moyo indulged with faint amusement. Finally, alone in his quarters, he took in the vastness of the space. It was spartan, bare of decoration or furniture, with a glass wall offering a panoramic view of Bastion's sprawling lights.
"Aje," he called softly, sensing her presence before she even manifested.
The construct appeared behind him; her form more defined than he remembered. She smiled warmly, her voice carrying an edge of mirth. "It is good to see you again, Lord Titan Blade."
Moyo turned to face her, raising an eyebrow. "I see my form surprises you," she said, noting his reaction.
"It's... different," he admitted.
Aje frowned slightly, waving her hand. "This space does not befit the strongest ascender in C-102."
The room rippled, and before Moyo's eyes, chairs, a table, and a grand bed materialized, filling the empty space.
"Bit presumptuous to assume I'm the strongest ascender on the planet, don't you think?" he said, crossing his arms.
"No," Aje replied with calm certainty. "It is a known fact. You have reached the peak of the Advocate rank. The next strongest are at the peak of Acolyte—leaders of other factions and your own companions. Even the yellow zone remains uncontested, producing more tier 2 dungeons than ascenders can clear."
"Wouldn't that be a problem in the long run?" Moyo asked, a flicker of concern crossing his features.
Aje shook her head. "Dungeon breaks are not an issue. The zones act as self-contained areas. At worst, they overflow into the green zones, requiring ascenders from various factions to intervene. However, the resources within these zones grow more valuable with time."
Moyo sighed, sitting in one of the newly formed chairs. "So, we're sitting on untapped riches."
"In a manner of speaking," Aje acknowledged. "With the Syndicate's presence now firmly entrenched in Bastion, trade with the Archailect itself is possible. Valuable items can be bought and sold."
"The Syndicate..." Moyo murmured, his curiosity piqued.
A map of Bastion appeared before him, revealing the settlement's astonishing growth.
"More than half the green zone is Bastion?" he asked, astonished.
"Indeed. Smaller settlements unable to stand on their own have been absorbed into Bastion willingly. We are the wall against the aberrants of the yellow and red zones. The Stormsinger, Sentinel, Warlord, and Empress have ensured the safety of our borders."
Moyo leaned forward, studying the map intently. "What about these other powers you've mentioned?"
The map shifted, expanding to reveal the newly reorganized world. Moyo immediately noticed the differences—landmasses had grown, and the planet itself seemed to have ballooned to an immense size, dwarfing its old dimensions. Their continent was now the nexus, surrounded by four others.
"There are six new continents on your improved world," Aje began.
"Improved," Moyo muttered, not liking the term. "There was nothing wrong with my old world."
"You currently see five," Aje continued, ignoring his grumble. "A sixth will manifest when your world ascends to a tier 4 realm. It will serve as a testing ground for the strongest ascenders—a prison for the most dangerous aberrants."
"And we're in the middle of all this," Moyo said, gesturing to their continent.
"Correct. To the west lies the Union, remnants of the Western powers. They are the second strongest faction after Bastion but cannot match us in strength. However, their ability to create intent and aura ascenders in large numbers is troubling."
Moyo's jaw tightened. "Figures. They'd cling to superiority just like the old days."
"To the north, the frozen wastelands are home to the Iron Federation, remnants of the Eastern powers. They appear unaware of the Union, but Lady Martha believes their old rivalries will resurface if they discover each other's existence."
"If they're foolish enough to carry on those feuds, they'll doom us all," Moyo muttered darkly. "Earth's last need is division."
"Bastion could become a unifying force," Aje suggested. "But our rapid growth has already drawn resentment. The Jade Empire is outright hostile, and the Bharat Empire remains undecided."
Moyo leaned back, letting out a slow breath. "Martha's handling it?"
"She has initiated discussions," Aje confirmed.
"Good. Politics isn't my thing. I trust her to deal with whatever power plays come our way."
Aje nodded and handed him a glowing construct. "The Syndicate representative left a message for you upon your awakening."
Moyo read the message in silence, his gaze flickering with thought. After a moment, he nodded. "Inform the trade master that I'll visit tomorrow."
"As you wish," Aje said before vanishing, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
***
Moyo spent the remainder of the night absorbed in his Hud, contemplating the absurd 900 points he had accumulated. A quick query to Aje had revealed the intricacies of the Archailect's point system, outlined neatly in a chart:
Rank
Level Range
Points per Level
Total Points per Rank
Fledgling
1-25
3
75
Initiate
26-50
5
125
Acolyte
51-100
8
400
Advocate
101-200
12
1,200
Expert
201-500
15
4,500
Exarch
501-1000
20
10,000
Monarch
1001+
25
Infinite Potential
Moyo chuckled softly to himself as he reviewed the information. By system standards, he was far ahead of the curve, his progress bolstered by title bonuses and the cascade of first-time achievements he'd earned. He studied the chart for a while, a thought forming. A risky experiment brewed in his mind, and with a shrug, he decided to give it a try.
"Nothing ventured, nothing gained," he muttered.
With a single thought, he allocated enough points to push his Strength to a staggering 1000.
The transformation was immediate. His body rippled with power as his muscles and bones grew denser, more compact. Notifications flooded his Hud.
[Congratulations, you are the first ascender to hit the 1000 threshold in an attribute!]
[Strength attribute has increased the durability of your body; you are immune to damage from ascenders below level 150!]
[Skill: Endure Agony has evolved into Rare Rank!]
[Skill: Balogun's Domain has gained an attribute of the Titan: Those below the level of the Titan struggle under his domain should he will it.]
Moyo smiled as he examined his newly transformed body. His stature had increased, both taller and broader, his frame now radiating sheer dominance. A glance at the floor beneath him revealed faint cracks where his weight and newfound strength had pressed down.
"Damn," he muttered, a mix of pride and concern in his tone.
Returning his gaze to the Hud, he eyed the remaining points thoughtfully. This might be a unique opportunity, perhaps the only time he'd have such an abundance of points at his disposal. If one attribute crossing the 1000 threshold yielded such benefits, what would happen if he pushed another?
The decision came quickly. Vitality had been his cornerstone during countless battles, keeping him alive in the direst moments. He poured points into the attribute, watching it soar past the 1000 mark.
His body responded immediately, another wave of transformation rippling through him. Power coursed through his veins, a sensation unlike anything he'd experienced before. It was as if his very essence had been reforged.
[Vitality attribute has increased the potency and longevity of your body! Few toxins, venoms, or other substances can harm you now!]
[Vitality attribute has evolved skill: Titan's Vitality into Rare Skill: Oshun's Aegis!]
[Oshun's Aegis (R): You have embraced a path of resilience, refusing death despite the bloodied road you tread. Your body defies destruction, standing again no matter the damage. Few can harm you now, though those few are as vast as the cosmos itself.]
Moyo sat down heavily, the combined effects of the upgrades both exhilarating and grounding. The raw energy coursing through him felt infinite, like a wildfire barely contained. Yet, he knew better than to let it overwhelm him.
He allocated the remaining 32 points into Endurance, deciding that balance would serve him best moving forward. With that, he exhaled deeply, letting the adrenaline fade as his body adjusted to its new power.
Tomorrow would be a long day, and now he was ready to face it.
**********
As the twin suns began to rise, Moyo was already awake, preparing for the day ahead. After a quick cleanup in the modest bathroom attached to his quarters, he found a neatly folded set of robes outside his door. A smile tugged at his lips as he admired the thoughtful gesture. Standing guard outside were two large, imposing ascenders who snapped to attention at his appearance.
"Who might you two be?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at their rigid postures.
"Sentinels sent by Lord Sentinel Joshua," one of them replied, their tone flat but respectful.
Moyo's eyes drifted to the steel hammers strapped across their backs.
"Right," he drawled, still trying to process their presence. "And your job is to…?"
"To protect you," the other sentinel answered cautiously, as though unsure of how their response would be received.
Moyo sighed, shaking his head. "Fine. Thank you for your service. As you were."
The sentinels beamed with pride, and Moyo closed the door behind him. He donned the black robe with purple trimmings, pairing it with surprisingly well-made thick jeans. As he stared out of his window at the vast expanse of Bastion, he made a decision.
With one leap, he vaulted off the balcony, landing lightly on the ground far below. A second later, he vanished using Titan Walk, moving swiftly past the capital and the inner sanctum. Another step brought him to the towering walls of Bastion, and the third placed him at the edge of the green zone, overlooking the chaotic yellow zone where monsters roamed freely.
Ida gleamed in his hand as he surveyed the zone, its surface teeming with dungeon gates.
"Scary, isn't it?" a voice came from behind him.
Moyo turned to see Martha, clad in thick furs and holding a steaming cup of what looked like tea.
"Not to me," he replied with a shrug, prompting a soft chuckle from Martha.
"And who are the ascenders behind you, thinking they're invisible?" he asked, his tone mildly amused.
Martha smiled. "Impressive. I wanted to see if you'd notice them."
With a snap of her fingers, the shroud concealing two figures dissolved, revealing masked individuals kneeling before Moyo.
"My lord," Martha began, gesturing toward them, "meet the first and second fingers of the Hands of Anansi—or, as those in the know call them, the Spiders."
Moyo examined the duo. Both were peak initiates, their faces hidden by blank masks with narrow slits for eyes. He turned back to Martha, his expression demanding an explanation.
"Following your victory against the necromancer and that other... entity, the leaders of Bastion, including myself, received rewards as your loyal subordinates," she explained.
Moyo nodded slowly, accepting the cup she offered him.
"Our paths have been elevated to titles—sobriquets, if you will—that we can bestow upon those loyal to us. These individuals, by extension, are loyal to you. They gain some benefits of our paths while retaining their original abilities."
"So, they're Webweavers like you?"
Martha shook her head. "Not exactly. They don't possess the core of my abilities, but they can remain undetected and utilize webs that can cut through steel."
"Assassins," Moyo said grimly, his tone betraying his distaste.
Martha inclined her head, pausing before responding. "Do you know how many rebellions and plots I've had to put down since Bastion was a simple town?"
Moyo frowned. "Why would they rebel?"
"To your kind and protective mind, it makes no sense," she said. "But you forget the power and influence Bastion wields. Twelve rebellions, to be exact, not including spies from other factions. It's been a full-time job for me, and a necessary one."
"I don't like the idea of spying on our people," Moyo said, his expression dark.
"Nor do I," Martha replied softly. "But if we are to protect what Bastion has become, we need precautions. I understand your fears, and I promise you this: I will not become the thing you fear most."
Moyo nodded, still uneasy. "What's this about a sample?"
At her signal, the Spiders produced a bound man, his body encased in thick, steel-like webs.
"This is Mr. Assad," Martha began, her tone calm. "A self-styled merchant dealing in spices and fabrics, slowly becoming successful."
Assad stared at Moyo; terror etched on his face.
"But we've discovered he's been communicating with the Union," Martha continued. "Paid handsomely to smuggle in infiltrators and sow chaos within Bastion."
Moyo crouched before the trembling man. "Can you contact your people?"
Assad nodded frantically.
"Good," Moyo said, standing. "And the infiltrators?"
"Rounded up and in custody," Martha answered.
"Send them back," Moyo said firmly, "along with Mr. Assad once a meeting has been set. I want to speak directly to whoever runs this Union—and the other powers, if possible."
"You'd really set them free?" Martha asked, surprised.
"They get one chance," Moyo replied. "If they try this again, I'll deal with them myself."
Martha nodded, a faint smile playing on her lips.
"Now," Moyo said, "where's the Syndicate's base?"
*****
The silver and gold structure of the Syndicate's building stood near Bastion's capital gates, a striking and imposing presence. Moyo moved purposefully through the bustling districts, drawing curious glances. He did his best to remain inconspicuous, even stooping slightly to diminish his towering height. The last thing he wanted was a crowd forming, recognizing him. However, he could sense Josh's presence trailing him from a safe distance, along with the sentinels stationed discreetly as Bastion's guards, doing a poor job of hiding their stares.
A chuckle escaped Moyo as he thought about the two sentinels he'd left behind in the inner sanctum. That thought faded as he approached the Syndicate's base. The air seemed subtly altered—the crowds grew sparse, a near-empty bubble of space surrounding the building as though people were being warded off. Two mechanical constructs, hulking and polished, flanked the building's entrance. Their glowing silver forms hummed faintly with latent energy; clearly advocate-ranked beings designed for defense.
Aether Sight activated almost instinctively. Moyo saw the faint web of an unseen force trying to repel him, but with a single thought, he crushed it. The constructs turned their glowing eyes to assess him.
[Level 200: Guard Silver Men]
Moyo stepped between the constructs, gripping their arms tightly. He applied pressure, feeling the resistance of their alloyed bodies, and prepared himself as energy began to gather within them.
"That won't be necessary, Lord Titan Blade," a voice called out.
The milling crowd stilled at the words, silence spreading like a wave. Moyo turned to see a figure dressed in flowing brown robes adorned with a golden brooch at the shoulder. His hair was stark white, his eyes a piercing yellow, and his skin possessed a faintly cream tone. The man bowed with a flourish.
"Greetings, I am Atreus, Trade Master of the Golden Syndicate for this planet, and I welcome you to my abode," he said smoothly, bowing once more.
Moyo released the constructs and stepped forward, his hood falling back to reveal his face. The murmurs in the crowd turned to reverent silence as Moyo inclined his head, following Atreus past the gleaming gates and through the shimmering barrier of the building's entrance. Aether swirled around him, and a notification chimed in his HUD.
[Notice: You are in the sanctuary of a Syndicate trade hub. The following rules are enforced:]
You cannot attack a member of the Syndicate. Severe penalties will apply.You cannot seize the Syndicate hub.The words of the Trade Master are law.Weapons and skills are restricted.
A sudden constriction gripped Moyo, a reminder that his formidable powers were now restrained. He grimaced, testing his raw attributes and finding them intact, though his skills were inert.
"It must be strange," Atreus remarked, glancing at Moyo, "to see your city in such a transformed state."
"For the better," Moyo replied, keeping his voice neutral.
"Indeed. You've adapted well to the system," Atreus said, studying him.
"The system brought pain and trouble to my people. I merely did what I had to."
"Adapt, grow, or die," Atreus said with a soft chuckle, "classic system rhetoric. But do not mistake my presence. I am not here as an emissary of the system."
"Are you not?" Moyo asked, arching a brow.
"Oh no, the Syndicate operates independently," Atreus said, gesturing grandly as they passed through a garden blooming with exotic yellow plants. "We exist to bring order to the chaos the system so often leaves in its wake. Nothing more."
They entered the building, and Moyo was struck by its cavernous interior. The space within was impossibly large, far exceeding the dimensions suggested by the exterior.
"Spatial rune techniques," Atreus said with a grin, noting Moyo's reaction. "Magic, as the people of your world call it. A charming term, don't you think? I might suggest it be added to the Archailect's terminology."
Moyo narrowed his eyes. "Why have you summoned me here?"
Atreus waved a hand dismissively. "All in due time. For now, I believe you'll find my other guest... intriguing."
He led Moyo to a grand chamber where a lone figure sat waiting, clad in robes of deep red and gold that resembled a military uniform. The aura around the figure was palpable, a weight of authority and power that made the air feel thicker. Moyo's instincts screamed at him—this was a being beyond his strength. Aether swirled around the man, heavy and unrelenting.
"Lord Titan Blade," Atreus said, his voice formal, "may I introduce the High Arbiter of your solar system, Zaren of the Vanguards."
Zaren's piercing gaze locked onto Moyo, and the tension in the room became suffocating. Moyo inclined his head, his mind racing as he studied the High Arbiter, knowing this was no ordinary meeting.