Ding
[System Notice]
[Ownership Registration Complete]
[Luvarne has been assigned to User: Reoloy Damser]
"...Reoloy Damser?" he muttered, his vision still black except for the grey screen in front of him. "Damser was a surname?"
Reoloy groaned.
"This guy sure loved his mysteries," he said sarcastically. "Even his friends didn't know... It's for sure a noble family name, but from where? I've never heard of it before."
The screen also displayed a few other basic details, and he would've combed through them further—but his instincts told him he didn't have that luxury right now.
"...Well, here goes nothing," he muttered. "Initiate conversion: mana…"
The darkness receded, giving way to the central room once more. Below him, the guardian remained—still, restless in a restrained sort of way, as if it was enduring some sort of admonishment.
"To casis."
A grey light beamed around him, lifting his feet from the ground as he felt the mana in his heart condense into a tight orb. A thin stream of it then peeled away, breaking down into raw element.
Then his mind was flooded with a sensation of deep calm, like everything was within the palm of his hand and nothing could harm him, and a budding energy flickered into existence within his brain.
As his green eyes glowed with power, the phenomenon abruptly cut off.
'What?' he questioned, dropping back onto his feet. 'What's going on?'
[Notice]
[The relic, Luvarne, rejects Reoloy Damser as a full owner]
"Huh?!"
[Access to Master Control and its extended faculties is hereby revoked until further notice]
Reoloy willed the grey screen to shift visuals to whatever was happening with his power conversion.
Staring at it, his heart sank as he saw a progress bar moving at such a glacial pace it might as well have been motionless.
"What even, man...?"
Quickly, he changed the display again to his stats screen.
[Casis: 5] [Hourly Accumulation: 0.05]
"You cannot be serious!" he snapped, swinging at the screen to no avail. "How much mana is there to even go through?!"
His eyes drifted further down—and froze at the number.
[Mana: 999,995]
"This guy was a monster..." he muttered, chuckling dryly. "A million points worth of mana? I don't think even Lucinea had that much..."
The teen shook his head, clearing his thoughts.
"Why am I rejected?" he asked, forcing a smile, as if politeness might somehow change the outcome. "And why are you talking like you aren't Luvarne?"
[This is the default fallback in case of system failure]
[The main ego of Luvarne remains largely dormant until further notice]
"And?"
[The active portion concluded that you do not meet its standards]
'This bastard!'
[It should be noted that the trial will now resume until a satisfactory result is reached]
Suddenly, space wrapped around him again, and he had to fight the urge to groan. The guardian dragged him back to the lower section, stepping forward with glaring blue mana trailing from his eyes under the visor.
Reoloy slowly struggled to his feet, wincing before immediately hopping onto one leg as blistering pain shot through him the moment he put weight on the other.
"Goal reached," he muttered. "Hardships persisting."
He threw himself out of the way as a transparent blade extended from the butler's knife hand—a sword of condensed space protruding from his fingertips.
The guardian settled into a stance, coating the weapon in crackling purple lightning before thrusting it forward.
True to its nature, the attack paid no heed to distance.
The strike reached him only a second after it had already been unleashed.
Managing to absorb the brunt of it through the sheer sturdiness of his deactivated glove Regalia, he rolled behind one of the consoles, fumbled for the small pack attached to his hip, and downed three potions all at once.
He didn't even have time to feel the effects begin to settle.
A downward stab forced him to roll away instantly. He scrambled back to his feet and retreated toward the corner where this entire skirmish had started, backpedalling as the guardian closed the gap without pause.
Despite his grievances with the situation, he had to admit this was an entirely different fight from before.
Thin grey lines, patterned like whirring gears, revolved within his eyes, a four-pointed star resting at the centre of each pupil. Information that had been invisible to him earlier now laid itself bare.
And in Reoloy's philosophy, where skill fell short, knowledge made for a workable substitute.
"His mana value is 5000... but it's capped at 700?" he muttered incredulously. "He's been moving like this while nerfed?"
A marker appeared—a stylised grey reticle with crooked crosshairs jutting from its four corners—above the guardian's left hand, and with it, Reoloy got a good three seconds of warning to sprint forward and slide between his legs.
The boy rushed up the steps, narrowly evading further distance-defying stabs as the servant followed close behind—this time unhindered from ascending.
He reached the upper level and scanned quickly, searching for anything that could provide cover long enough to get a decent plan off.
His eyes locked onto a single point—an object with an unusual description panel hovering beside it. He didn't know how he had missed it before, and for a brief moment, he wondered whether the gamble was even worth it.
Reoloy glanced back.
The guardian had already reached the top.
A floating info prompt flickered beside it, shifting from hesitant to impatient.
He sighed, then full sent it.
He dashed forward and leapt straight into a uniquely silver chair.
The butler went stiff, all forms of attacks he had conjured disappearing into thin air.
"The Master's Seat," Reoloy said, locking eyes with the guardian. "It has to mean something to you, right?"
The sentiment indicator shifted.
Nostalgic.
"Yeah, that's right," Reoloy pressed, leaning forward, fingers interlocked. "It's not just Luvarne that matters. I'm here too."
[Description: The ruling seat of the Master of masters. All his creations and their offshoots bow to him.]
'What a lore drop... there's no way it wouldn't make him pause.'
Now he had time while the guardian was lost in his reverie.
He knew three things.
One: he could no longer use the claw.
Two: explosives were worthless against this opponent.
Three: his only probable shot... was using casis.
'It can't be that hard,' he mused. 'I've already coached one person into grasping its basics. I should manage as well.'
Of course, practical application was a completely different ball game from memorising some game lines.
'Okay then,' Reoloy thought, feeling for the energy in his brain.
It really was tiny.
At best, he only had one shot. His control was unlikely to be decent enough to ration its use properly.
He frowned. 'No choice.'
Earlier, he had noticed something on his detailed stat screen—something that confirmed a theory and opened an entirely different can of worms.
Summoning the grey screen, he sighed.
[Traits]
Potential | Madness | Deceiver
[Bloodline Traits]
Rogue Dominion
Reoloy hovered a finger over the final entry, then willed it open for further explanation.
As expected, it was nothing but scrambled letters and blurs.
All except for one word—elevate.
"The clichés never stop..."
His voice slipped out louder than intended, and stirred the butler into awareness again. He cursed himself for forgetting to keep it all in his thoughts.
Just as he braced for an incoming attack, the guardian fell to his knee before him.
"...What?"
Two people's worth of shock flooded his system—something Reoloy didn't miss but filed for later.
The artificial being then began gesturing, scrambling to convey a message without possessing the privilege of a voice.
"What is it you're trying to say...?" Reoloy asked, carefully shuffling forward on the seat. "Umm... are you trying to—?"
The guardian nodded emphatically, making a stabbing motion over his chest with his hand. He then straightened his back and let his arms fall loosely to the side as if saying, "Here's the target."
Reoloy was perplexed.
Had the chair really influenced that much?
He was always going to look into it later, but now, after this ridiculousness, it couldn't wait long.
"Master of masters..." he muttered. "Who is that?"
The servant, without hesitation, pointed at him.
"Ah..." Reoloy smacked his forehead. "I'm sitting in the chair, so you think it's me... right..."
The reincarnator watched as he tilted his head in confusion, realising that this being was more child-like than he'd bothered to notice.
"I have to kill you to end the trial?"
The guardian nodded.
"There's no other way?"
Another nod.
"I see..." Reoloy paused and looked upwards. "Okay. Give me some time."
The guardian once again watched as Reoloy disassociated.
'I can't damage him with anything I have. With the claw, it would be possible with some effort, but...'
His thoughts flickered back through three separate moments—each one marked by that same strange phenomenon.
'When I awakened my senses, the battle in the forest, and then against the Royal Stag... Each time, I received some kind of boost and those words carved into my mind—soundless but impossible to ignore.'
The game had never described how traits worked, how they were activated, or any sort of useful information he could use for reverse engineering.
'Rogue Dominion... If I'm not wrong, it has to be that, and if it is and it does what I think it does, I should be able to pull this off.'
He reached deep, deep enough to almost fall into his mind realm, but he grounded himself.
Slowly but surely, a trickle of vibration tingled in his spirit. The world seemed to come to a crawl, and his senses sharpened.
Reoloy felt the element roar—a completely new experience. It was almost as if it was rejoicing over the advent of a new beginning.
And in some way, Reoloy began feeling that way, too.
Extend your world.
The reincarnator fell to his knees, alarming the guardian as he rose and rushed to his side.
But Reoloy paid him no mind, clutching his chest, agonising pain flaring as whatever he had just activated greedily and stubbornly demanded to align with the mana in his heart.
'Oi... this isn't... how it happened... before...' He coughed up a globule of blood, but grit his teeth and let out a scream. 'You. Listen. To. Me!'
A green aura surged around Reoloy, hurling the guardian backwards.
Like Lavere's, it looked and felt like a scream tearing against the world—but unlike hers, his was threaded with faint specks of other colours, like embers scattered through a raging blaze.
He stood, quietly patting himself on the back for managing to sync this mysterious ability with his casis on his first try manually activating it.
He felt a lot of things, but narrowing in on his energy, it was like sand in a cup, and he was aware of each and every grain.
"This level of control should do it," he said, testing a small burst of casis and confirming the energy loss.
Great as it was, he couldn't keep this going forever, though.
Turning to the guardian, a frown crossed his lips as he shook his head.
"Sorry for the trouble... but I don't like your original idea."
He pointed at the dark-clad butler.
"Let's finish this with one more go!" he declared, a manic grin splitting his face. "I want to win properly!"
The guardian stiffened—just slightly, as if genuinely caught off guard—then stood and stepped forward.
Lightning burst into the air, trailing off his frame as he got into his stance.
They remained still for only a few seconds, but those moments stretched into what felt like an eternity.
'There's only one move that would be best applied here,' Reoloy thought, his expression hardening. 'Rather than spreading it out, I'll condense it and pour everything I've got!'
They stared.
And stared.
And stared some more.
Then the guardian twitched.
Both erupted forward.
The artificial being struck first, compressing space around its fist before launching it forward in a single, decisive step.
Reoloy's prediction system caught it instantly.
He twisted aside just before the attack was even fully realised, slipping into the guardian's range and throwing his own punch—
'Of the skill branches available to the casis build, telekinesis is the most basic and the fundamental starting point for anyone hoping to become anything. The three techniques available to even the most green of newbies are: Crash, Shatter, and Break.'
As the teen's fist cut through the air, the guardian reacted—triggering its spatial ability and slipping backwards unnaturally, as if pulled through invisible layers of space itself.
Reoloy's widened, but he didn't falter.
So long as the path aligned, the distance didn't matter.
"Telekinesis Level One: Break!"
A fist-sized wave erupted forward, slamming into the guardian's chest.
Impossibly, the butler sealed off space just before impact, blocking the invisible strike at the threshold of contact.
But Reoloy was already pressing in.
Blood flowed from his eyes as he forced more output through. A second impact followed. Then a third. Then a fourth. Each one grinding against the guardian's defences and pushing the barrier closer to collapse.
Then the reincarnator opened his fist, clutched his wrist with his other hand and closed it again.
The force exploded, ripping through the barrier and punching a small hole into the guardian's chest—piercing his core.
Reoloy fell limply on his face while his opponent collapsed onto a knee.
"You're really too much..."
Purple arcs crackled and raged, sheer mana pressure filling the room as he stood up.
He took a step—and stopped.
"Romas the Benevolent..." Reoloy said, smiling, his face covered in sweat and blood. "Even your final moments... gave off such a destructive presence."
[Congratulations on completing the trial! Rewards have been granted!]
"Oh, it's you..." he mumbled, genuinely beyond exhaustion. "I think... I'm just going... to take a nap..."
---
Across Cardana, a reaction ignited on the evening of the fifth day of the week. In the local village especially, the air buzzed with disbelief, excitement, hope, apprehension, and anticipation.
"He actually did it…" Amali muttered, her cold treat slipping from her fingers. "He really went and did it!"
Avron, despite his best efforts, couldn't help but gawk at the far-off sight while Roy quietly smirked, chewing on a strand of straw.
---
Edam and Edren stared blankly, their father approaching dotingly behind them before he paused to acknowledge the spectacle.
"That brat is crazier than I thought."
---
Elsewhere, Gordoi, Meyer and Leno sat in an office.
They looked outside the window, taking in the visual and the sounds from the streets beyond.
"It happened," Gordoi said, taking a sip. "The new age starts now. Like the old records in the ruins foretold."
Meyer scoffed. "I'm struggling to wrap my mind around the fact that it's real."
"Did you think my predecessors and I were lying?"
"Of course not," the redhead replied. "This is just more significant an event than anything we've dealt with before."
Gordoi understood the sentiment.
Even for him, it made his heart beat faster—he reasoned it was just the natural human instinct against the unknown.
"Leno," he called, looking back at the man who sat furthest. "What's our next move?"
The chieftain remained silent, his expression unreadable as he observed the scene in the distance.
---
Lastly, Lavere stood atop the home she shared with her father, her violet eyes reflecting distant silver light.
She hadn't been able to look away from the pillar beaming into the sky—tearing through the clouds as if signalling to all that the world order had changed.
She sat down.
And closed her eyes with a small smile.
"Congratulations, Reoloy."
---
Across the waves and the heavens, the winds and waters surged—the realm noticing a miracle had occurred.
It was the first time since a good few centuries ago that two of the Great Four were claimed in the same period.
Whether it marked the ushering in of a prosperous age or a destructive one… only time would tell.
But the legend was now cemented.
Reoloy Damser.
At fourteen years old, he had crossed the perilous southern sea, surmounted countless walls, arrived at the feet of ancient supremacy, and climbed all the way to the top.
His next steps would soon rock the world.
But for this night—
He rested.