“So how does the System work with the monsters, though?” Leonidas asked after several minutes’ silence. “They don’t interact, I’d imagine.”

“Some of them are just mutated flora and fauna affected by the introduced mana in the atmosphere,” Tarnys said with what Leonidas was beginning to discern was a scholarly interest in such matter. “Others are taken from different worlds, and integrated into the System to use as fodder for Incursions. Goblinoids, Kobolds, Insectoids, Lizardmen, and other new creatures you’ll see populating this Terra of yours are all nurtured by the System and then ejected en masse when a new Incursion happens.”

“Doesn’t that kill off a large chunk of the populace it needs, though?” Leonidas objected with a growing realization of how horrific the first months of the Incursion must have been. No wonder the System had given him his Cataclysm Core. He’d indirectly created a mass genocide.

“It usually erodes about a third of the global population, from what we’ve managed to glean, though that is negligible in the grand scheme.” Tarnys gestured around them grandly, as if encompassing all the trees and plains in his explanation while they walked. “The System enhances everything in those that interact with it, and the survivors—helped by greater health and fertility—usually recoup and exceed the lost population by a small order of magnitude within the first five hundred years or so of Integration.”

“You keep saying Incursion, now you say Integration.” Leonidas pointed out thoughtfully. “My—” he caught himself “—the others on the Hilltop were the same. I called it an Incursion out of anger, but what about you?”

“The same, really. Incursion is just a malicious way of re-interpreting the Integration. It’s a universal constant, Leonidas, and everyone does it. The System may be an accepted part of reality, and even a fun one at times; but nobody ever forgets the cost of its appearance. No one ever forgets the oceans of blood it spills.”

“Well that’s morbid.” Leonidas murmured.

“It is,” Tarnys agreed. “It’s also why organizations like the Adventurers’ Guild are so interesting. They’ve turned the Incursions into positive affairs, at least for their members. Each new guild location is composed of people that chose to come over during an Incursion, and did so while already being members of the branch that transmigrated.”

“I take it they’re tolerated because they also help with keeping the local monster populace controlled?”

“That is a huge part of it,” Tarnys confirmed with a nod. “This world’s wildlife has been particularly vicious since Integration, actually. It’s been beneficial to allow Adventurers to tackle them for us in many cases. Even people that grow up with the System don’t always want to take advantage of its more brutal elements. The vast majority of Dawnhaven’s population will never go past level 20, and that’s perfectly normal.”

“Should you really be telling me that?” Leonidas asked in surprise.

Tarnys just laughed at him.

“Again, is it something you can’t find out just by asking around?”

“Fair enough,” Leonidas conceded. “And what about your leadership, then? Can you tell me about that?”

“Certainly,” Tarnys replied with another laugh. “It’s the talk of the Thronehold, recently. The Prince and Princess have yet to complete their Rites of Ascension. We have not yet found a Dungeon, nor a beast, suitable for it. It’s one of the main tasks the Adventurers’ Guild has been hired to help with.”

The Rite of Ascension, as well? The parallels were beginning to become absurd. Everything Tarnys said and did, from his mannerisms to his attitude, were near-to-identical for what Leonidas recalled of Melredor and the Haelfenn of Elatra. Only some things were purely identical, but it was far too much of a coincidence.

Elatra had been a trial, but what did that mean for Leonidas? Had Elatra been real, or a construct? It was infuriating and depressing all at once to think he’d spent five years in a glorified video game, instead of forging real bonds.

“Okay,” he said as much to distract himself as to get more answers. “So the Adventurers’ guild…”

“Yes?”

“How does that work? What’s the process there? Can anyone just sign up to be an Adventurer?”

“Interesting question, and the answer is both yes and no. In your particular case, you need to be cleared by the Dusk-Lord before you’re even permitted to stay in our territory, and after that you’ll need to apply for Residency or Citizenship if you want to become a permanent part of Dawnhaven.”

“Which is the Thronehold?”

“And the nascent Kingdom, yes.” Tarnys confirmed.

“Okay, and how does that tie into the Guild?”This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“Well,” the elf continued with remarkable patience, “the Guild is a good way for you to acquire residency. All full members of the guild Bronze rank or higher are awarded honorary residency, and any of them above Gold rank that apply for it are given both citizenship, and a place in the Dawnguard or Duskguard, if they desire it. The Royal Guard is also an option, though they will almost always turn away anybody below Platinum rating, and you need to be at least Mithril to stand a real chance.”

“I take it the Royal Guard are a small group?”

“Somewhat.” Tarnys said with a more careful look at Leonidas, and a more guarded tone when he continued. “The minimum requirement is third tier, and the average is around fourth tier. Once you hit fifth tier, progression takes a sharp nosedive, so it’s very rare to see anyone above fifth tier on worlds this young. The System won’t actually allow anyone sixth tier or above to transmigrate.”

Sensing that Tarnys was unwilling to go into exact details about individual strength or equipment, which he had to admit made sense; Leonidas changed tactics and focused on what he’d said at the end of his explanation.

“I take it the transmigration limitation is a form of power control?”

“Yes.” Tarnys said with a nod, and a subtle relaxing of his held tension at the change in topic. “When you start entering the higher tiers, each one becomes a new classification of strength. By the time you hit Ninth tier, every level is essentially a new category of power.”

“And I take it Adventurers are the ones most likely to hit the higher tiers quickly?”

“Also correct,” Tarnys said with a nod. “It’s often encouraged to have promising soldiers or citizens join the Guild to gain power more quickly. Their costs are usually sponsored by whatever nation they represent, too, if they have a rare enough class or traits and titles. Power is the only true absolute in the System Nexus, and that’s true across every world.”

“How vast is the gap between people above level 90?” Leonidas asked with genuine curiosity.

Tarnys laughed.

“The difference between a level 92 and a level 91 is like the difference between a fifth tier and second tier, Leonidas. At that point, you’re in the realm of demi-gods. Very few worlds have Cultivators of that level, and the ones that achieve that level of strength are usually the ones that claim the world.”

“Tell me about that. I’ve seen this ‘Unclaimed Sector’ and ‘Unclaimed World’ thing several times.”

“It’s exactly what it sounds like,” Tarnys said with a shrug. “Each settlement, sector, province, territory, continent, and world can be claimed in that order. It just comes down to who has the most strength, and the largest Dominion.”

“Dominion?”

“It’s how the System classifies everything,” Tarnys explained. “That’s why we need a King or Queen, and quickly. The moment one of the royals passes the Rite of Ascension, the System will mark them for a Dominion Trial. Once they achieve all the metrics, they can undertake the trial. If they succeed, then this Sector—117, as the System calls it—will be recognized as part of their Dominion.”

“And Sector 117 is part of a Province?”

“Province 7, yes, which is part of Territory 26.”

“Territory 26…” Leonidas said. “Wait. Are we in Michigan?”

“That’s what the locals kept calling it.” Tarnys confirmed. “Somewhere called Twin Lakes, by their reckoning. We of course didn’t let them maintain that delusion. This is Dawnhaven, now, but the name was certainly illuminating.”

“Twin Lakes… I haven’t heard of it.” Leonidas admitted. “I wonder how far we are from Lake Superior…”

“Ah. That’s apparently fifteen or so miles to the far north-west, according to the locals.”

“You use miles?” Leonidas asked in surprise.

“We started after we realized all the signage in this world used them,” Tarnys said with a shrug. “Measuring one took a bit of communication, but we’ve grown used to the terminology. Some things aren’t worth changing. You have too much infrastructure here that guides on that measurement, and introducing a new one would be foolish.”

“That makes sense. It’s forward-thinking, too.” Leonidas agreed while eyeing the approaching walls of Dawnhaven in the distance. The massive castle at the heart of the settlement had become clearer as they’d walked, and he could make out the white stone and soaring parapets in the pre-dawn light.

Red pennants flew from the towers of the castle, and the outer bailey was clearly discerned encircling the construction. He estimated it to be close to 200 feet high at its tallest point—marking it as larger, in theory, than the Chateau de Cacy; the largest human castle ever built on Earth.

The castle was easily twice as wide as it was tall, and as they closed in on the slope to the town, Leonidas could see that the walls surrounding the structure bordered the edges of the two lakes the town had evidently been named for. The castle itself was positioned between them, on the stretch of land that ran through both bodies of water.

The town of Dawnhaven, or Thronehold as Tarnys had called it, expanded outward from the castle along the shores of the lakes, and across the land abutting them to the north-west and south-east.

It may have once been a small town, given its location, but that was a thing of the past. Buildings of Haelfenn style—what Leonidas would have called a foundation of medieval european, with imperial roman and greek accents—expanded out across the area in a riotous display of colonization.

Magic was vibrant within the air while they approached, and Leonidas could see what looked like a formation of soldiers flying gryphons—chimeric creatures with massive wings, the bodies of lions, and the heads of eagles—in a patrol path across the Thronehold and its surrounds.

The entire town was vibrant with life, and brought back memories of his time in Elatra.

Memories of hope, and adventure, and his celebrated status as a Hero.

Memories of a false world, he was beginning to realize, and the last warnings of the one creature that had perhaps known what was to come.

“You are sentencing your earth to cataclysm.”

Once again Azrageth’s words came back to haunt him.

Leonidas looked at the elves around him, and felt his heart harden.

It was too late for regrets.