They weren't rewards for the tutorial; they were a head start, a massive and potentially overwhelming boost for the true challenge that lay ahead in Euloria.
The war was not over. It had simply entered a new, far more terrifying phase.
Aelion stood in the silent throne room, his mind reeling from the implications of the "tutorial" and the bound rewards that promised power in a world called Euloria.
He was deep in contemplation, trying to piece together what this all meant for his real-world conflict, when a new, system-generated prompt interrupted his thoughts.
[Checking Achievements...]
[Calculating points...]
Before the calculation could finish, Samuel cleared his throat, the sound unnaturally loud in the tense silence. Aelion looked at him, his expression guarded. The being who called himself a comrade now wore a look of intense seriousness.
"What do you know about the Ascension?" Samuel asked, his voice low and deliberate.
Aelion tilted his head in genuine confusion. The term meant nothing to him. "What is Ascension?"
Samuel's eyes sharpened, their ancient depth seeming to pierce right through Aelion's digital avatar.
"Then, how did you come here?" he demanded, his tone shifting from curious to urgent.
The question seemed absurdly simple.
"I am currently using a kind of machine to be connected here..." Aelion began, explaining the common VR pod technology that was a staple of his world.
He never finished his sentence.
A wave of pure, unadulterated bloodlust erupted from Samuel, so thick and heavy it felt like the air itself had turned to lead.
The very light in the throne room dimmed. Samuel slowly spoke, each word dripping with a chilling certainty.
"Aelion. In six months, you and your loved ones will be in grave danger."
Sharpness flooded Aelion's eyes, his own instincts flaring in response to the threat. "Why is that?"
As if triggered by his revelation, ethereal chains of golden light materialized out of the void, snapping around Samuel's limbs and torso, attempting to silence him.
With a dismissive glare, Samuel flexed his will, and the constricting chains shattered into motes of fading light.
He took a steadying breath, his expression grim.
"Galaxies, at random, are selected for Ascension," he explained, his voice now a forced calm.
"Before the true event, the people of the selected world are given a preview, a teaser version to acclimate them. What you have just experienced—this entire game, 'Myth of Dungeons'—is that teaser. It is a preparatory simulation for the real Euloria."
Aelion's eyes constricted. The scale of it was unimaginable. This wasn't a game; it was an interstellar aptitude test.
Samuel continued, his words coming faster now.
"The tutorial's design is delegated to the representatives of the world. That means your world's leaders—this Council you speak of—chose this dungeon-crawler path. The fact that they did not inform the populace about the Ascension means they were likely planning to hide this information and hoard the benefits for themselves."
He leaned forward, his gaze intense. "The drawback of this method is catastrophic.
Once the true summoning to Euloria begins, the unprepared masses will be transported to a deadly, unfamiliar world.
Millions if not billions will die—not from monsters, but from sheer panic, confusion, and a complete lack of understanding of the new rules governing their existence."
Aelion's mind raced, his thoughts growing colder and sharper with each passing second.
He now understood the source of Samuel's earlier bloodlust.
The deception was monstrous.
The Council, the great families—they were sacrificing countless innocent lives to maintain their head start, to consolidate their power in this new, terrifying reality.
It was beyond corrupt; it was a form of species-wide betrayal.
His voice was like ice when he spoke again. "How are resources given to a world?"
"Based on the population at the time the Ascension began," Samuel answered flatly.
"And how are the top powers chosen?"
"Based on power. Raw, measurable power within the system of Euloria."
Aelion felt a horrible, clarifying click in his mind.
He finally understood the Council's edict against real-world conflict.
It wasn't for the preservation of life out of any moral conviction.
It was to preserve the population count—the resource pool—until the moment of Ascension.
He understood why the Velthane family, and others like them, had been so desperate to climb the ranks.
They were jockeying for position in a cosmic leaderboard.
And he understood with painful clarity why he and Celastine had been cast out.
They were not just inconvenient; in this new context, they were expendable variables, not worth the resources to inform or prepare.
A cold, building fury began to boil within him, a pressure cooker of rage and betrayal.
He turned his head away from Samuel, his fists clenching so tightly his knuckles turned white.
He could feel it—the anger, the desire for retribution—threatening to spill over and consume him.
He needed to control it, to channel it, or he would lose himself completely.
And that was the precise moment the system finished its calculations.
The system's chime cut through the suffocating atmosphere of betrayal and rising fury. [Points have been calculated].
The words hung in the air, a stark, digital counterpoint to the cosmic conspiracy Aelion had just uncovered.
His gaze, which had been turned inward upon a storm of cold rage, shifted outward, focusing on the new prompt with forced discipline.
He needed data. He needed leverage. This points system was the first tangible resource he had encountered since learning the terrible truth.
He looked at the total, and his breath caught in his throat.
[Current points: 7,000,000]
Aelion stood utterly stunned. Seven million.
The number was incomprehensibly large.
What metric could possibly quantify five years of struggle into such a figure? Was it for clearing the tutorial? For being the first? For the specific way he had overcome the final trial?
The sheer scale of it hinted at the immense value the system placed on his achievement. This was not a paltry reward; it was a war chest.
Acting on instinct, he navigated to the shop interface.
A complex holographic menu materialized before him, titled [Points Shop].
His eyes scanned the listings, each one more staggering than the last.
[Time Extending Ticket - Sublimation Realm (1 month)]
[Cost: 1,000,000 Points]
[Talent Enhancement Stone (Bound)]
[Cost: 1,000,000 Points]
The list continued, filled with items whose names and descriptions spoke of power far beyond the game he had just left: elixirs that promised to reconstitute one's very essence, manuals for arts that manipulated fundamental laws, and armaments that seemed to be forged from concepts rather than metal.
But it was the first item that seized his attention completely. The "Sublimation Realm." It was a term that resonated with a profound, unknown significance.
He raised his head, his eyes, now clear and sharp with purpose, locking directly onto Samuel.
The being watched him, having observed Aelion's stunned reaction to his points with a knowing expression.
"What," Aelion asked, his voice low and intent, "is the Sublimation Realm?"