Vikram's body convulsed. For a moment, he thought he was ascending. But then the truth revealed itself in a cruel twist, his flesh turned into a black hole. The Blood Essence he had fought tooth and nail to acquire was devoured cleanly, hungrily, without hesitation. When that was gone, his body didn't stop. It gnawed at his vitality, draining him hollow, until the last spark of life slipped away.
[You have been slain.]
The system's cold message faded, but Vikram's mind clung to a single thought: his body was refusing to ascend without being properly fed. It had gotten a taste, and now it demanded more, an endless supply of Asura Blood Essence.
"An appetite with no bottom," Vikram muttered, staggering to his quarters after respawning. He spent the entire night with Akk, poring over manuals, mixing concoctions, scrawling desperate calculations. Mostly it was Akk's hands that crafted, but Vikram's stubbornness fueled the work.
The result was a modified medicinal bath. Richer in energy than anything he had ever dared attempt.
He sank into the steaming waters, raising the heat until his own skin flushed crimson. "I can't tell if I'm ascending… or cooking myself medium rare," he gritted through his teeth.
But still, he failed.
When the steam cleared and his body lay limply against the rim of the bath, a bitter truth settled in his chest. Without a limitless source of Asura Blood Essence, his path ended here. No phase. No stage. No future.
Vikram's eyes reddened as he clutched at his temples, wracking his mind until exhaustion blurred his vision. He was ready to give up. Ready to admit defeat.
And then… a word echoed.
Endless.
He froze. His lips mouthed the syllables again. "Endless…"
What had he been given endlessly since arriving here?
Life. Or rather… death.
Respawns. Infinite respawns.
Vikram's pulse thundered. His despair ignited into wild exhilaration. He shot to his feet, scattering notes, smashing his writing board against the wall, hurling books across the floor.
"Endless!" he roared. "That's the answer!"
Closing his eyes, he willed himself back into the Room of Statue. His soul slipped into the hulking [Barbarian] body. He marched straight to the Sanctuary where the great Asura boss waited.
Ravaan still lingered there, monstrous and daunting, now in its second phase. Yet Vikram knew, after the first kill, something about it had changed. The fight was easier. Too easy, as though the beast remained only to serve a purpose beyond the obvious.
Vikram's lips curled into a sharp grin. His eyes gleamed with the madness of discovery.
This was it. His infinite key.
Vikram moved instantly, throwing himself into battle with the hulking Boss once again. Yet something about the fight felt… wrong. The creature no longer radiated that oppressive vitality. Its movements were dull, sluggish, almost mechanical, as though it were simply going through the motions of combat.
What happened to you? Vikram thought as he ducked under a lazy swing. You were a nightmare before. Now you're just… empty.
It made the fight almost pitiful, but Vikram did not hesitate. He struck, dodged, and countered, his body moving with practiced precision. This time, it barely felt like work.
A notification flickered in front of his eyes:
[You have received {Blood Revenant}][You have received {Blood Resentment}][You have received {Blood Essence of Asura}]
Vikram's lips curled into a faint smile. "So the rewards don't diminish," he muttered, relief washing through him. That's what I was counting on.
He quickly cycled through his other incarnations. With the [Mage] Class, he obtained the [Crimson Asura Soul]. With the [Knight] Class, he pulled forth the [Sanguine Heart of Asura]. Each one pulsed with dark energy, a reminder that he wasn't simply farming scraps, these were building blocks for something greater.
But he didn't stop there. Greed, or maybe desperation, drove him. He repeated the process again and again, his body enduring each respawn and battle like clockwork. By the time twelve hours had passed, he had slain the Boss ten times, enough to amass a small treasury of Asura essence and remnants.
When he finally stepped back into the Sanctuary, the sight of his other selves waiting for him sent a strange chill down his spine. The [Knight], [Mage], [Barbarian], and even Akk, all turned toward him in unison, nodding. It was eerie, but also grounding. For once, he didn't feel alone.
The Cauldron was already blazing, heat rippling off its surface. The medicinal fragrance was thick in the air, laced with a metallic tang. Akk had worked tirelessly, adjusting the recipe until it brimmed with violent energy, almost daring Vikram's cursed body to consume it.
"For hours," Vikram thought bitterly, staring at the glowing concoction, "we've tried everything. Bath after bath, energy after energy… and every single time, my damn body sucked me dry like a starving parasite." He clenched his fists. How much longer do I have to gamble before it kills me with despair?
The [Barbarian] stepped forward, silent and resolute. He dipped into the Cauldron without a splash, as if the liquid itself hungrily swallowed him whole. Vikram's body immediately reacted, pulling at every thread of energy it could find.
It was like a black hole. A cursed hunger. An endless drain.
But this time, Vikram gritted his teeth, narrowing his eyes. Not everything. You can't take everything at once, can you? You need time. And time… His lips twisted into a maddened grin. Time is all I need.
"Now!"
At his signal, Akk, the [Knight], and the [Mage] heaved the chains.
The Sanctuary shuddered as nine massive corpses of Ravaan, the Asura, were dragged into position. Their grotesque bodies were arranged in a precise formation, each one aligned to form a grotesque circle around the Cauldron. Blood-red runes flared to life beneath them, spreading outward in jagged lines.
Akk's face was solemn, his usually sharp tongue silenced. He understood the gravity of what they were attempting.
The headless corpses began to bleed, but not like corpses should. Thick streams of blood poured unnaturally from their torn necks, weaving themselves through the runic patterns until they converged above the Cauldron. The air stank of iron and rot, yet the condensed crimson sphere that began to form was vibrant, alive, pulsating with a terrible rhythm.
Vikram's heart pounded. Sweat dripped from his brow, though whether from the heat of the Cauldron or the enormity of what they were doing, he couldn't tell.
"This is it," he whispered to himself underwater. Either I ascend here… or... or I don't know...
And the ritual pressed forward.