As Luc approached the silver double doors of the Mercenaries' Casino, he straightened up. With his sun-kissed tan, blond hair, and eyes as blue as a summer sky, he looked every bit the surfer. It was purely coincidental; Luc couldn't even swim.

Raising his wrist, he rolled up his shirt sleeve to reveal a gold bracelet engraved with the name of the Champion of Humanity.

“Priam would hate your lucky charm,” sighed Maya beside him. “Why don't you kiss it while you’re at it?”

“Does it bring good luck?” Luc quipped.

Maya rolled her eyes and pushed the heavy doors open. Luc hesitated for a moment, then kissed the bracelet discreetly before following his captain.

The building had no antechamber: guests arrived directly into a hall the size of a city. Luc had never been to Las Vegas but felt like an ant facing the Caesars Palace. Just looking at the edifice made it clear it was built with techniques unknown to humanity.

Birds flew beneath the five-hundred-meter ceiling, and the far end of the hall faded into a golden mist. In this titanic space, different biomes—aquatic, magmatic, desert, and even swamp—allowed mercenaries to party in the best conditions. After all, the primary purpose of the place was to let warriors relax between perilous missions.

The casino wasn't the largest on Gaia, but it was undoubtedly the most chaotic.

Walking up the red carpet, Luc and Maya made their way toward the center of the room. Glances turned their way, and the young man puffed out his chest.

“You’re the one who bet on a Mythic Achievement.”

Luc stopped to avoid colliding with the stranger who had appeared before them. A giant with an alligator head stared him down, ignoring Maya. His heavy, slightly open golden fur cape revealed a medallion depicting a shield topped with four swords. A Tier 4.

“I bet and won,” Luc clarified. The Mercenaries were pretty lax, and nothing obligated him to respond despite the Tier difference. But there was no rule against being friendly.

“You must have won a lot…” Coming from a three-meter-tall, one-ton alien, the phrase could sound menacing. Luc just smiled.

“Over ten million.”

“That’s what I earn in ten years.”

“Maybe I’ll lose it all today.”

“You’re betting again?” The alligator’s interest was piqued.

“Almost all of it. If you want to play against me, now’s your chance.”

The alligator tilted his head to the side before grinning, revealing an impressive array of teeth. “I thought you were a jammy beggar, but you got balls. I’m in.”

With a Tier 4 on their heels, Luc and Maya continued up the central aisle to the reception. Having heard the young man’s response, other mercenaries left various gambling tables to follow them. Five minutes later, he flashed a radiant smile at the hostess, a horde of warriors behind him.

“Luc Fortune, under Captain Maya’s command. I’m here to withdraw some of our contribution points and bet the rest,” he told an elf. Dressed in a black and gold outfit as revealing as it was futuristic, she had bluish hair that seemed to have a life of its own. A red cape that accentuated her eyes completed the ensemble. She was both gorgeous, strange, and deadly.

“This is the fifth time you’ve introduced yourself; is that a human custom?”

“I just want to make sure you remember my name, Lasha,” Luc grinned. “It’s the least I can do before asking you out.”

Lasha stifled an amused smile. “Are you sure you want to date a woman who could break you in two during a passionate night?”

“I’d be willing to risk it,” growled the alligator.

“Start by washing your mouth; your breath could kill an undead,” retorted the elf, prompting laughter from the nearby mercenaries.

More than just a receptionist, Lasha was the Casino's manager and a Tier 5. To avoid theft issues, she used clones to fill all the Casino's positions. Some whispered it was training for her, but Luc had no idea what Concept she was pursuing.

“I brushed my teeth this morning,” Luc smiled.

“I’d kiss you to check, but I’m on duty,” the elf replied with a teasing wink. “Business first: how much are you withdrawing?”

“One million eight hundred twelve thousand contribution points,” Luc stated.

Several whistles rose behind him. “You could reach Tier 2 with that many points,” the bookmaker remarked.

Luc shook his head. “I’ll stick with Tier 1. If Priam taught me anything, it’s that a solid foundation is important.”

“Well said!” the alligator agreed. “Take advantage of being Tier 0 and use your points to accumulate as many Titles as possible; it’ll help with your Tribulations.”

Contribution points could be exchanged with other mercenaries for their services. Luc had already found healers among the Mercenaries who would help him unlock several dangerous Titles.

“He’d be better off buying resources or Tokens to boost his affinities,” suggested a Tier 4 hanging from the ceiling. The spider-man gave Luc a thumbs-up.

“With that many points, he could try to unlock [Ace]!” exclaimed another Mercenary.

“We’re not really supposed to talk about that in public, are we?”

“We’re not in public, idiot.”

“Shut up!” someone shouted. “The best move is to create a Tier 3 race to space out the Tribulation thresholds.”

As the present Mercenaries began to argue, Lasha snapped her fingers. The atmosphere vanished, and the noise stopped.

“Guys, I know you want to help, but you’re being annoying. Luc has ten million points left to bet, and I want to know what he has in mind. I suppose you’re not betting on a Legendary Achievement, are you?” she asked, turning to the young man.

With ten million points, betting on a Legendary Achievement would barely double his starting amount. Everyone was beginning to understand that the Champion of Humanity was a monster, and the odds were dropping daily. Few were willing to bet against someone capable of jumping three Soul Tiers.

Of course, some took the risk, hoping the Tribulations would kill him quickly.

“We have a saying on Earth: go big or go home,” Luc winked. “I’m going for another Mythic: a quintuple Tribulation.”

“A quintuple after a quadruple? Impossible,” the alligator said.

“With the current odds, that would push you to fifty million if you win,” Lasha informed him.

Whispers spread behind Luc. Some seemed tempted to bet with him, while others hesitated to bet against.

The young man shook his head with a smile. “I’m thinking of a parlay.”

The murmurs behind Luc fell silent. A parlay meant several linked bets. If even one was wrong, Luc would lose everything. But if all were correct, the odds would multiply.

Lasha narrowed her eyes. “I’m listening.”

“He’ll defeat the ninety-fifth wave of the Colosseum before our second Reunion.” His captain, Maya, had ties with a merchant named Mercury. According to him, Priam would attempt the ninety-fifth wave.

The alligator whistled. “At Tier 0… Isn’t that the image of Prince Keltan’h which has been guarding that wave for nearly five hundred years?”

“His name is banned,” Lasha reminded him, and the alligator coughed. The elf consulted her tablet before nodding. “He's been gatekeeping the Colosseum for half a millennium. The odds are ten to one.”

“Ten million times five times ten, that’s a potential gain of five hundred million,” calculated a mercenary.

“He’d be richer than some Tier 5s…”

“If you win, I’d be willing to be your girlfriend,” an ogress behind Luc offered.

“Me too,” added the alligator.

“He’s mine,” Lasha smiled, silencing the gold diggers. “Who else wants to bet?”

“Me,” said Maya. “I’m following Luc with an all-in.” She didn’t have as much as her subordinate, but multiplying her contribution points by fifty interested the captain.

“Captain, if you lose everything, I don’t want to be held responsible,” warned Luc.

“Don’t worry, I’ll strangle Priam.”

“He’ll already be dead,” Lasha noted.

“...Then I’ll strangle Luc.”

Luc gave a thumbs-up. “Priam is a sure bet!”

“You’re completely nuts… Lasha, I’m betting against them,” said the alligator. “No hard feelings,” he added, facing Luc, who masked a satisfied smile. For there to be winners, there had to be losers. Behind the young man, various Mercenaries also started placing their bets, most against the two humans. They knew Prince Keltan’h by reputation and doubted Priam’s chances. If no Tier 0 in Sector Hope had beaten him in half a millennium, it was for a good reason.

As the odds fluctuated in real-time—the Tier 4s and 3s betting injected considerable sums—Luc took a deep breath. He had long hesitated to take the plunge, but he refused to remain weak.

“I want to make one last bet,” Luc declared. If Priam had taught him a second thing, it was to always push his limits. Maya shot him a surprised look. He hadn’t discussed this with his captain.

“I’m listening,” said the elf.

When Luc announced his bet, a deadly silence fell over the casino. A few hours later, a new rumor spread among the Mercenaries. Everyone whispered that humans were insane.

Lvl Up: [Revelation Resilience] lvl 38, 39MEM +6META (Affinity) +6META (Authority) +6This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.Lvl Up: [High Aether Manipulation] lvl 2, 3META (Affinity) +6META (Focus) +6META (Endurance) +6Lvl Up: [Ideal Aether Perception] lvl 14META (Affinity) +3META (Perception) +6

In the training room of Log-a-rhythm, Jasmine's shadows drowned both the light and Priam's Concepts. Neither his flames, his mist, nor even the clash of weapons could pierce the darkness.

As a blade sliced into his abdomen, Priam roared and struck back blindly. Propelled by his powerful muscles, Promesse slashed through the air with enough force to shatter a concrete wall. The lack of resistance told him he had missed his target.

Priam assessed the wound he had sustained before refocusing on the duel. The gash was just the latest in a long line of injuries. His constitution and vitality were the MVPs of the fight. Jasmine could hurt him, but her attacks struggled to truly cripple him.

His instincts screamed at him to duck, and Priam obeyed, but his right eye exploded as it met the assassin's dagger. Jasmine’s [Homo Elysian Predation] had deceived his draconic instincts. Clenching his teeth, Priam searched the darkness for the wrist holding the weapon and grabbed it. An instant later, his hand closed on nothing but shadows.

Using the power of the hydra, Priam restored his eye before resuming a defensive stance. If he could use his aether, he would employ [Echolocalization] to locate the assailant or [Kinetic Control] to defend himself. That was currently impossible: his second parallel thought was busy employing [High Aether Manipulation] to reorganize his meridians.

A sense of foreboding washed over Priam just as a dart lodged itself in his shoulder. He yanked it out, using his hot blood to burn the toxins. His resistance to poison was formidable, and Priam resumed his defensive stance.

Fighting the assassin was as valuable as it was exasperating. Jasmine always had the upper hand, and none of his counterattacks had yet managed to wound her.

Eyes wide open, Priam continued to scan the spectrum of light available to him, but no light, visible or invisible, could penetrate the darkness. His Domain was equally useless, and his instinct was misguided. Frustrated, Priam concentrated on Pyro. As the Shadow Champion, Jasmine could drown his Concepts, but it cost her willpower and aether. The young warrior had reserves far greater than those of the assassin.

“You’ll run out of resources eventually,” he taunted. The silence that followed was his only answer.

Suddenly, Priam felt something touch the back of his right ankle. Spinning around, he slashed with his spear, swiping about a meter off the ground. A cry echoed, and Priam lunged forward. Only his left leg responded, and he fell. She cut my Achilles tendon!

Breaking his fall with a roll, Priam was almost surprised when his eyes detected light. The shadows had gathered into a massive claymore, hovering above his chest. Before Priam could react, it descended, piercing his human heart.

Micro allowed him to ignore the pain and shock, and Priam took advantage of the absence of shadows to project his mist. Riding his Concept, he reappeared in front of Jasmine. The young woman smiled, and Priam cursed as her face distorted. His body vanished into the mist.

An explosion shook Log-a-rhythm, sending dozens of metal shards into its wooden frame.

Ten seconds later, Priam emerged from his mist and looked around. He was alone in the training room. Scanning his add-on, he sighed, realizing the assassin was in the Shadow Domain, out of reach.

“There’s no point in continuing,” he declared as Log-a-rhythm absorbed the shrapnel.

Jasmine appeared in front of him, a grimace on her lips. “My attacks were ineffective,” she said, examining the dozens of superficial wounds covering Priam’s body. Only the shadow claymore had a real effect—his Achilles' heel had already been regenerated by the hydra Merit.

“At least you could hit me,” he replied. “Your shadow domain is terrifying; I had no way to detect you.”

“In a real situation, you could have easily fled. My shadow chains are too weak to stop you.”

Neither rival was satisfied with the outcome of the duel.

Priam shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll find a solution. The shadow that exploded… It really looked like you. I thought shadows were varying shades of black?”

“[A Shadow of my former Self]. Since I reached Unity, I’ve realized the Shadow Concept is more than just the counterpart of light. Chasing shadows, fear your own shadow… All those expressions hold some truth. Why limit myself to playing with darkness?”

Priam nodded thoughtfully. Jasmine had an acute understanding of her Shadow Concept. She was even holding back its evolution to avoid triggering a High Tribulation. I stopped progressing after reaching Unity with my Fire Concept, and it seems I'm missing a lot.

Thinking of his Concepts as more than mere elements… Priam sighed. He had so much to work on and so little time.

“Anyway, you got me,” he acknowledged, pointing to the hole in his chest. Flexing his heart Merit, he regenerated the organ in a fraction of a second before letting his vitality take over. The wound was still severe—he had a hole in his left lung and was missing several ribs—but his physical attributes and resistances would keep him alive.

“Thinking of your Breath, I realized I also needed an ultimate move,” Jasmine said, observing his injury. “[Shadow of Death] gathers my shadows to deliver a fatal blow. I could’ve aimed for your head, but the more severe the injury I try to inflict, the harder it is to deceive your instincts.”

“After tricking me twice, I was starting to lose faith in them. You might have got me,” Priam said, opening a portal to the top of Log-a-rhythm. Jasmine followed him.

“Then you would’ve resurrected, as fresh as a daisy, and I would’ve had to flee. My ultimate consumes all my aether and willpower; I wouldn’t be able to fight anymore.”

Priam shrugged, handing Jasmine a mug of sap before sitting on a branch. “Still, given my recent progress, I’m surprised you gave me such a hard time.”

“You’re building a solid foundation while I’m sharpening my blade,” Jasmine replied, sitting beside him. Priam's latest advancements didn't make him deadlier, but they paved the way to the Zenith. “By the way, how’s your tempering coming along?”

Priam checked his system before smiling. “I’ve reorganized about ten percent of my meridians. It takes time because I have two networks now, but it should be done in about ten days.”

“And then?” Jasmine asked, swinging her feet in the air.

Priam grimaced. “Then it gets complicated. I need to create seven aether gates that will anchor my meridians to build my fulcrum. Soon, I’ll need seven epic or legendary resistances—one for each gate. According to my add-on, a perfect gate requires an ideal resistance, a draconic trophy, and a violent tempering.”

If Priam could gather these ingredients, his resistances would receive a terrifying boost.

“I thought you were missing some ideal resistances?”

Gazing at the horizon, Priam replied, “I am. I have four ideal epic resistances and one alien. I’m short at least two, but I’m stuck with my attributes—my vitality, constitution, and willpower are approaching twelve hundred. I’ll have to start my tempering, survive my Tribulations, and then build my last gates.”

Jasmine froze. “You think you can endure a quintuple Tribulation with Heavenly Dragon being half-completed?”

Priam remained silent. According to the phoenix, Heavenly Dragon would elevate his draconic bloodline to an absurd level. Perfect tempering would allow him to approach the practical limits of Tier 0, step into Tier 1 without regret, and survive his Tribulations. But there’s a problem with my attributes…

Jasmine’s hand cupped Priam’s cheek, forcing him to look at her. “You’re going to survive. I—Sphinx needs you. Your father too. All of us.”

Surprised, Priam blinked and then smiled. The young woman was awkwardly trying to reassure him, and he found it touching. “I’m going to survive,” he said. As he spoke the words, he realized he believed them. His draconic instinct was confident, as if it knew Priam hadn’t yet figured everything out. “That's what I'm good at.”

Jasmine returned his smile. “So, what now? Do you want to finish reorganizing your meridians?”

Priam shook his head. “A stream of thought is already handling that. It’s time for a more active phase of my training. We’re going to hunt draconic trophies.”

Lvl Up: [High Aether Manipulation] lvl 4META (Affinity) +3META (Focus) +3META (Endurance) +3Lvl Up: [Ideal Aether Perception] lvl 15META (Affinity) +3META (Perception) +6

As Priam and Jasmine ventured into a world of ash, Priam linked up with Ève's clone subsystem. “How's it going on your end?”

The clone was supposed to infiltrate the tribes and manipulate them. The ultimate goal was for the rivals, the tribes, and the forces of the Necromoon to converge on Sumstreh simultaneously.

“I’ve started planting suggestions and latent false memories in the minds of most of the Tier 0s, 1s, and 2s connected to the Aelbes council. I’m currently working on the Tier 3s.”

Though Priam was already aware of this through his add-on, he couldn't help but shudder. Ève wasn’t the most formidable rival in direct combat, but her abilities were chilling. “Don't harm them.”

The Aelbes representative, Eleha, hadn’t left a good impression, but he refused to violate the consciousness of strangers.

“Why would I take that risk?”

Priam sighed. It wasn’t the best reason, but the important thing was that the clone left the innocent in peace.

“Did you need something?” the clone inquired.

“... Try to find information on tempering or the prerequisites for ideal skills.”

During the first Reunion, Priam had raided various factions. It hadn’t bothered him since those humans had renounced their humanity. Stealing knowledge from potential allies was different. But if it's that or die...

“Understood.”

With any luck, Ève would also find something for Jasmine and Kazuki. If not, the Auctions would have an answer.

Priam muted the connection and slowed as he reached a cenote. The last time he had been here, the Brood Mother's cave had been empty, but the rain had likely filled it.

At the center of the sinkhole, he saw the wild rift leading to Valaryth—the water world he had briefly explored upon his return to Elysium. Just beside the passage, a princess sat reading. She looked up, and when their eyes met, both young people smiled.

Status: PHYSICAL:Strength 707 Constitution 1 105Agility 614 Vitality 1 040 Perception 760 MENTAL:Vivacity (D) 552 Dexterity 622 Memory 792 (+11)Willpower 1 134Charisma 661 META:Meta-affinity 754 (+26)Meta-focus 403 (+9)Meta-endurance 608 (+14) Meta-perception 333 (+14)Meta-chance 274Meta-authority 189 (+6)Potential: 13 472 (+21)Tier 0Sun points: 682 017 (+542)[He Who Eludes Death] charge: PRIMED[Tribulation]: Five Tribulations pending.Future Tribulations delayed until:Time: 157 days 11 hours 46 minutes 29 seconds.

Next thresholds: 12 attributes > 600 / 6 attributes > 900 / 1 attribute > 1 200