I sit in a pitch-black, sealed chamber, holding a freshly concocted potion. Its murky hue swirls with faint vortexes, emitting eerie whispers that beckon the listener. Closing my eyes, I place a small gem on the floor as a symbolic "medium" for the ritual.
"The Lord of Dimensions;"
A sudden gale erupts, unnatural in this chamber sealed by walls of spirituality. A mystical connection bridges the mortal world and the starry skies. My true form, the High-Dimensional Overseer, casts its gaze, preparing to bestow a characteristic upon my avatar. Ripples spread across the spiritual walls, threatening their collapse.
"The Eye Overlooking the Mortal Realm; The Source of All Illusions; The Creator of the Painting World;"
"The Source of All Fantasies."
An ethereal characteristic takes shape where the gem once lay, imbued with the void-like essence of the cosmos. After reciting my honorific name, I stride forward, swallowing the characteristic without hesitation. Before my body can begin digesting it, I raise the Listener potion and gulp it down.
A surge of violent energy pulses from the nearby Storm Cathedral. I wrap the Listener's characteristic around the outer god characteristic fusing with my original Sequence 9 trait, exuding the aura of a True Creator devotee. Lightning crackles in the clouds above, thunder rumbling ominously.
Far in the astral realm, Leodero, the Storm Lord, strokes His scepter, sensing a faint disturbance in His domain. His mind churns, detecting a hated and feared presence fleetingly near His cathedral. Without hesitation, He issues an oracle to His church's leaders: "Seek the favored one bearing the True Creator's divinity."
Sensing the storm's divine fury subside, I separate my characteristic from the Listener's, merging it with my current body. Of the two pathways I, the High-Dimensional Overseer, command, one is the "Dimension" pathway, symbolizing space and finality; the other is the "Overlook" pathway, tied to omniscience and creation.
To thrive on Earth while upholding my outer god dignity, I chose the "Overlook" pathway after careful consideration. Its combat prowess is weaker, but its foresight, observation, and eerie abilities suit my needs. The Dimension pathway neighbors the "Door" pathway, tainted by my dear neighbor, the Fallen Mother Goddess. Worse, the Door's adjacent pathway includes Amon, the "Blasphemer," a nightmare for low-sequence Beyonders.
—By "low-sequence," I mean anything below Sequence 3. I don't fear Amon parasitizing my avatar, but an unexpected issue could alert Adam, triggering a divine onslaught. I know neither of my current true god allies would lift a finger to help, given my identity.
The "Overlook" pathway begins at Sequence 9, "Scholar." Unlike the similar-sounding "Polymath" or "Reader," it's distinct, warped by my outer god influence. Under my pathway eons-long corruption, this Sequence 9 is now truly named "Starlight Scholar."
My presence makes the Starlight Scholar potion lethal. Most who drink it perish upon absorbing its knowledge, rewritten when I became pathway. It enhances learning potential without boosting ability directly, offering knowledge—mostly perilous cosmic secrets, like outer gods' honorific names or source matter descriptions.
After scrutiny, I realized the "Scholar" Sequence 9 had become a death trap under my influence. Guiltily, I shifted my focus elsewhere on Earth.
Yet, upon advancing to Sequence 8, the "Overlook" pathway's "Scholar" transforms into something seemingly unrelated, much like a Seer becoming a Clown: "Ranger."
The Ranger's characteristic vastly enhances physical prowess, especially speed, outpacing other Sequence 8 Extraordinaries. Other attributes improve less dramatically. Upon consuming the Ranger potion, knowledge amassed as a Scholar becomes combat techniques, etched into the Extraordinary's subconscious, granting rudimentary fighting ability. Thus, the digestion of the Scholar stage and the type of knowledge learned shape each Ranger's combat strength.
I cloak my Ranger characteristic in the Listener's, masking my identity from potential high-sequence threats. In Backlund, you never know if you'll bump into an Amon or Adam on the street. Emerging from the chamber with a relaxed expression, I attune to the True Creator's now-clearer ravings, discerning a nostalgic lullaby from His homeland in a dreamlike murmur. No wonder the Aurora Order members outside seem so serene… ahem, quiet.
"Hey, my dear True Creator?" I prod His inverted head. His expression flattens as He turns to face me. Adjusting my avatar, I socket the Hidden Sage's increasingly sluggish eyes into it, addressing Him. "Change the tune, will you? I've got a literary salon in Backlund to attend. Sure, a 'painter' there is odd, but it's part of the plan. Tell your followers to stop dozing, yeah?"
"You… heard that?" His face twists, like a youth caught with his browsing history exposed. I nod earnestly, recalling how long I listened. "Yeah, after becoming a Listener. You're not bad, honestly. No surprise the Sun pathway has a 'Bard' sequence. Want me to sing for you? It's been ages since I—"
"Cyka blyat."
Mr. A clutches his head as a sudden pain spikes. The soothing lullaby turns chaotic, and the familiar, maddening ravings return, reminding him of the True Creator's burden of insanity and suffering, deepening his awe of His greatness.
Spotting me emerge with a smile, he hurries over. "Your Excellency, your advancement is complete?"
"Thanks to the Lord, I'm fortunate," I say, tracing an upright cross over my chest, smiling at Mr. A. Pausing, I continue, "Prepare a carriage; I'm heading home. Mr. A, I'm attending a literary salon in a few days. Care to join me?"
"…A literary salon?" Mr. A nearly refuses outright but pauses, sensing deeper intent. "What are your plans, Your Excellency?"
Good, he's not jumping to violence like before… Seems the True Creator's recovery is curing the Aurora Order's madness too, I muse, smirking inwardly. Outwardly, I explain, "It's for the Aurora Order's future. Our preaching targets the lower classes, and even the middle class misunderstands us—severely. That's detrimental to our growth."
I emphasize "misunderstand," but Mr. A listens intently, oblivious to the irony. Listeners, honed by their sequence, are exceptional at making speakers feel heard, sparking subconscious pleasure.
"If we only preach to the lower classes, a disaster or small war could wipe out the Lord's followers. We need to spread our teachings to the upper, or at least middle, classes. This literary salon is a perfect entry point."
"I understand," Mr. A declares righteously. "I'll fulfill the Lord's task. I excel at literature—no one in the Aurora Order sings His praises better. I'll use my abilities to convert everyone at the salon into His lambs…"
The True Creator's followers are still a mess.
I take a deep breath, rubbing my forehead. "Go borrow How to Win Friends and Influence People from Mr. Z. If you're not up to par by tomorrow, you're not coming."
"!"
"And remember, until the first phase of our 'plan' is complete, never reveal your faith. If asked, say you worship the Sun God. The Lord was once called the Ancient Sun God. No one will notice the difference; they'll just think you follow the Eternal Blazing Sun."
"Also, you must bear the burden of secrecy for the Lord. Never expose your identity!"
(End of Chapter)
Translator's Note: Cyks blyat is Disrespectful, hateful, obscene according to amazon, it's a swear used by russians similar to F word we use.