Glimpse of Eternity [A Reincarnation Isekai Fantasy]

‘How in the fuck can I not find a single one…!?’

About eighteen hours since he arrived in the sanctuary, Reivan had explored innumerable hexagons, encountered countless spirit beasts, and tried all sorts of things to coax them into forming a contract on their own.

Yet, he couldn’t find another human to steal from. Nor could he find a spirit beast that wanted to volunteer as his partner. And frustratingly enough, he also couldn't find a spirit beast of the [Light] element, which was already low on his list of priorities.

Plenty of spirit beasts seemed too dumb to realize how strong he was and attacked him though, so that was certainly something.

Reivan was just about ready to lose his mind, clenching his fists while resisting the urge to pull at his hair. He had wasted hours upon hours of time with nothing to show for it. What's worst was that it wasn't even his fault.

He was simply unlucky.

'Well, at least I know a little more about spirit beasts and the sanctuary now...'

While gallivanting around, he discovered that having the same affinity as a spirit beast had an immediate effect on said spirit beast’s interest in someone. If he forcefully added [Light] to his elemental affinities using [Reality Falsification], he would be much more appealing to spirit beasts of that attribute.

But before that, he had to actually find one.

Anyone who saw Reivan could tell he wasn't doing too well on that last part though.

“Man, fuck this shit… Fuck this world!” he yelled to nobody in particular as he sat on a nearby rock. Somehow, he had ended up in yet another forest-like region, which wasn’t hard to fathom since about seventy percent of the hexagons he entered were forested.

The possibility he was somehow going around in some distorted circle popped into his head, but he was pretty sure he had never entered the same hexagon twice.

‘Maybe I should just accept it. Maybe this is a higher being giving me a sign — a sign that I should go for a [Wind] or [Earth] attribute one instead.’

There were still six hours left, but in other words, there were only six hours left.

“No… No. Haste makes waste. Let's calm down for a minute.” Reivan breathed in and out, trying to beat his impatience down. Thinking that perhaps a bit of food would help, he took out a few of the rations he was given and took a bite, grimacing as soon as it touched his tongue. “This… This tastes horrible. What the hell."

'Couldn't they have given out better stuff considering it didn't need to be preserved for so long?'

With how strong he was, Reivan didn’t have a problem with how hard the jerky was. But it was a bit too salty for his taste — or anyone's taste, for that matter. He tossed it to the ground so some woodland creature could snack on it later, though he wasn't sure if they would deign to eat such salty food.

After grappling with the innate guilt of littering and throwing away food, Reivan took out some of the personal rations he usually kept inside his long-bodied friend’s stomach. With some decent food in hand, he idly began to eat as he sunk back into contemplation.

‘Hm. Yeah. [Wind] and [Earth] aren’t bad elements. Let’s just go for them, instead. No need to be so hung up about [Light]. Totally overrated element. Fuck [Light]. Nobody likes that guy anyway.’

And when he really thought about it, obtaining the [Wind] attribute meant he would have plenty of excuses to spend time with Helen, since he could have her teach him a thing or two. They already sparred and trained against each other a lot though, so it was questionable if he even needed to increase it at all. But more excuses to spend time with his beloved was never a bad thing.

As for [Earth], there was Gwen. Heck, there was even Sir Bob — his father’s old guardian knight from back when he wasn’t a king yet. He wasn't quite sure what that guy was up to these days, so perhaps it wasn't good to count on taking the unusually stealthy knight away from his covert duties.

‘Yeah… Taking [Light] actually limits the number of teachers I can approach, huh?’

Thinking about it, the only people with the [Light] attribute in his vicinity were Gwen and Roland. While the former could be a good teacher, she was also extremely busy and had better uses for her time than teaching a knucklehead like him. As for the latter… well, Roland wasn’t a combatant anyway. Nobody expected him to be that good at fighting. The current king of Aizen's strengths lay in his administrative skills.

Then there was Sir Lancelot, the knight at the top of the so-called Twelve Helms — but that one was busy too, apparently working on something in the continent to the far south.

Reivan could ask some other knight with the attribute to teach him, but all the good ones were probably busy with other duties. So in the end, he would probably fall back to self-study, stuck inside a fragment of eternity for years.

‘Yep. I’ve decided. I’ll give up on [Light]. Time to switch to Plan B, then... or was it C now?’

“Hm?”

As he was enjoying his modest snack, Reivan suddenly noticed a blob-like creature wrapped in black fur hop out of the bushes before bouncing harmlessly toward him. Two bead-like red eyes placed a little too far from each other stared at the discarded jerky at his feet.

Eventually, it stopped right in front of the Reivan and the food he'd abandoned. The creature didn’t try to eat the jerky though, nor did it seem ready to snatch it away — it just stared at the jerky with what was obviously desire. From time to time though, its eyes seemed to dart toward Reivan, as if unsure if he minded.

Reivan eyed it curiously before letting an amused chuckle escape his lips. He kicked the jerky toward the surprisingly considerate creature and gestured for it to go ahead.

"Wee!" After a cute cry and an equally adorable hop of happiness, a long wide slit — that definitely wasn’t there before — opened up just below its eyes, revealing multiple layers of horrifyingly sharp teeth. Then, a long red tongue extended out of its gaping mouth, scooping up the jerky before retreating back inside.

The creature then happily chewed before releasing a belch that was far too loud for how little it ate.

‘It’s… Kinda cute. In a nightmare fuel kind of way. I don't think it belongs in a forest full of woodland creatures though...’

“You liked that, little guy?” Reivan reached down and gave the creature a little pat, surprised at how meaty it felt on his hand. He had initially thought it would be more similar to slime with fur, but actually, the creature was most definitely made of flesh and skin.

"Wee...?" The creature had eyed his hand with caution at first but ultimately let him do as he pleased. When he stopped, it even deflated a little, perhaps in disappointment.

‘Heh. He likes it.’

The feeling of fur in his palm felt not unlike the dogs he used to take care of a long time ago, back when he was strong enough to worry about touching them too hard. His nose suddenly felt a bit stuffy when he nostalgically remembered the dogs that stayed with him until their last day, so he hid his feelings by taking out more of the rations he didn’t plan to eat.

“Want some more, boy?" Reivan snorted and wiped a stray tear that almost fell from his right eye. "I’m not really a big fan of these.”

"Wee!"

After receiving what was probably an affirmative, Reivan threw down the rest of the rations he was handed earlier, grinning at the creature’s obvious elation. Once the creature finished the rest of the jerky, it once again belched before it hopped right next to the rock Reivan sat on. A couple of seconds later, it deflated significantly, seemingly falling asleep.

Reivan smiled warmly at it, slightly exasperated at how it let its guard down around someone it had just met. “Hey, hey, don't just fall asleep next the the scary human, boy... You're gonna learn that the hard way, one of these days.”

Whatever the black furry blob was, it really reminded him of a dog. Furry, questionably adorable depending on who looked at them, and stupidly trusting. He couldn’t resist the urge to stroke its fur as it slept.

Still, he couldn’t stay there forever.

Having spent enough time on this unexpected distraction, he quietly got up and prepared to leave.

"Wee...? Wee! Wee! Wee!" Surprisingly, the little eldritch beast woke up and quickly realized his absence, hastily bouncing after him.

“Ah, no, I don’t think I can take you with me…”

"Wee! Wee!" Though he tried to walk away, the blob kept on hopping in pursuit, determined not to let him go.

Of course, he could have just run away, but his heart ached with the very notion.

‘Should I catch it with the orb? It’s probably a dark element spirit beast…’

He already had the attribute, so forming a contract with the little guy felt like a waste. But then again, he also felt bad about just leaving it there when it had somehow grown so attached to him.

‘Ah. I was too distracted. I didn’t even look at what this thing is.’

Reivan frowned and held his head for a moment, confused at how unusually lax he was when it came to this adorable creature. Then he gazed down at the blob and used [Supreme Insight].

“Stay still, boy. Let’s take a look at just what you are…”

 

 

'Why does your name sound like you come from the Cthulhu mythos...? Anyway, it doesn't even have a single affinity. Though it does have extra skills I’ve never seen before...’

Reivan reached down and gave its fur a few more strokes, which it unmistakably enjoyed quite a bit. While he was at it, he decided to check them one by one.

 

 

“This… seems like it’ll be OP. Or it may also not. How should I know...” Reivan raised a brow, unable to decide how to feel about the skill. He then moved on to the next one.

 

 

“Oh, this is definitely overpowered, what the fuck…” Reivan frowned, suddenly realizing why he seemed oddly attached to the creature for no apparent reason. He looked down at it with a questioning gaze. “Did you get me with some hypnotic bullshit?”

The blob was weak enough that Reivan could kill it by accidentally breathing too hard, so he was an absolute threat as far as the blob was concerned — far above that of an S-class threat. That meant the skill's activation chance was more than guaranteed.

"Wee...?" The furry blob with a species name he couldn’t make sense of stared up at him with what appeared to be confusion. "Wee wee?"

Reivan squinted and tried to intimidate the creature, which made it tremble in fear immediately — which then, in turn, made Reivan feel guilty.

And this, in turn, made him even more impressed with the skill.

‘It’s crazy how being aware of the skill doesn’t help much. I can’t feel hostile at all… It's kind of fucked up. Wow... Just, wow...’

Reivan knew that he could theoretically still kill the little blob though. One didn’t need malice to end someone’s life — sometimes, logic or the call of duty provided enough of a push.

‘Logically though, this little thing isn’t a threat to me. And it hardly affects my mission and desires in any way.’

Perhaps that was why he couldn’t kill the blob — because he had no need to. If he was going to kill it, the only possible reason would be because he just felt like it or he disliked something about the spirit beast.

Which wasn't the case.

'Wait... Am I thinking this way because of the skill or is it really me thinking all this...?'

Reivan licked his lips and, after a moment of thought, decided to leave the spirit beast alone. The little blob simply didn't match what he was looking for, so he couldn't take it with him in the first place.

“Anyway…" Reivan smiled sadly at it. "I have to go now, boy. I really do want to take you with me... but I can't.”

Since it didn’t have any of the affinities he wanted, using the contract orb would be a complete waste. It was also incredibly weak, so he couldn’t even consider giving it to Elsa.

She would be long dead by the time this blob ascended. And that defeated the entire purpose of bringing her a spirit beast at all. He may as well gift her a coffin.

‘On that note, I really have to find a strong one.’

Sadly, he hadn’t met anything above 500 Might in his travels in this strange world. Everything was far too weak for his goals.

Reivan took out three whole chickens and left them on the ground in front of the blob. Marinated in special sauce before it was roasted to perfection by the palace chef, its quality could even satisfy Reivan’s picky mouth.

Perfect bait for a voracious little eldritch blob.

“Here you go, boy. A parting gift.” Reivan gave its head another pat before turning around to leave.

He really did want to bring the blob with him, but he didn’t have any extra orbs. Having not met a single person despite exploring innumerable hexagons, he wasn’t even sure he could get another one. At the rate things were developing, he would have to choose between his initial mission and giving Elsa a possible ticket to longevity.

Taking along the blob for an insignificant and selfish reason such as “Because I wanted to” was irresponsible and foolish, considering everything that was on the line.

Sure, the blob’s extra skills were interesting, but they weren't enough to change his mind.

“Hm?” Reivan stopped just as he was bracing in preparation for a mad dash to the area border. Looking down, he saw the blob biting his pant leg and ignoring the juicy meal he had left behind. “Hey, boy… you're making this hard for me too.”

He easily pried it off because of how weak it was, but he ended up ripping a potion of his pants off. Not that he minded, since he had multiple pairs and more personal wealth than he knew what to do with.

“Just stay here and—”

 

 

Reivan shut his mouth as the notification popped into his vision. He blinked a few times and doubted his eyes for a few moments before looking down at the blob and the surprising determination in its gaze.

‘Huh.’

Since there was no button, Reivan just willed acceptance, and that seemed to be enough. Who would say no to a free spirit beast?

 

 

“Hm.” Reivan dumbly grunted to himself, still not getting over what was happening. "That was easy..."

‘I guess it’s true what they say about food and conquering men through their stomachs.’

 

---

Ever since the White King could remember, he had towered above everyone with his superiority.

Wherever he went, winter followed. And where winter was, he was invincible. With his power, it didn't take long to dominate his pack by defeating the alpha and taking his rightful place at the top.

A pack was only as strong as its alpha, and a pack without him as the alpha would never be the strongest. He was bigger, stronger, and his claws were sharper. Even his fur looked better, attracting more mates than the other males. And while he could shrug off the previous alpha's chill like it was nothing, the freezing cold he brought down affected all.

But ruling his pack wasn't enough.

The White King turned his attention outward — to the other creatures who competed for prey against his pack. With cunning and followers under his command, nothing stood in his way. Even the beasts that plagued his pack for years fell quickly one after the other.

Eventually, the White King didn’t even need his pack anymore.

So he separated and scattered them, leaving them to fend for themselves in the hopes of raising each one into an alpha of their own. Many would not come back, he was sure. The unforgiving tundras had a tendency to filter out the weak.

But the ones who remained may prove worthy of joining him in another hunt — or perhaps serve as his next challenge in the future.

At the time though, they were useless. Deadweight, even.

Sure, he still had the ability to summon them any time he wished, but he no longer felt the need to do so. They only served to hold him back once he started hunting bigger game.

Something that could provide a real challenge.

The White King could feel it in his bones — that there were stronger foes out there, beyond the veil of sleet and frost.

And he wanted to hunt them.

So he did.

There were many different kinds of places outside his previous hunting ground, and strangely enough, calling forth winter's chill became much more difficult the farther he went. Especially in places where it was hot or melted snow constantly fell from the darkened skies.

But he triumphed anyway.

Always.

Not even the giant fire-breathing lizard he fought for days could best him, its scales crushed under the force of his bite.

The battle was legendary, and the White King savored that victory for countless cycles. Such was the pleasure of defeating a worthy opponent, a creature that would make one work for the kill.

For centuries after that fateful day, there was nothing his claws could not shred, nothing his fangs could not penetrate, and nothing his tails could not crush. Defeat was a foreign concept and he was unrivaled in the world. Nobody challenged him anymore.

Nobody could challenge him anymore.

Except, of course, the creatures called humans.

Those unfair weaklings somehow received the protection of the world — the world that belonged to the White King.

The world that he dominated.

Of course, he had his pride. He would not hunt such weaklings. But when he saw a few lesser beasts try to fight them, only to be rebuffed by some unknown force he couldn’t fathom, the White King grew interested in humans.

Interested in hunting them.

With such protection, who could call these humans weak? Such an unfair advantage invoked rage in the king, as if the strength he'd accumulated was a trivial thing — something that couldn't even penetrate a weakling's skin.

It was, he believed, an affront to the laws of nature itself.

Whenever the White King hunted something, he was also putting himself on the line. Every time he lunged forward, fang and claw bared, he knew it might be his last. It was, for him, a form of respect for his opponents, who would lose their lives to nourish his own.

But what about the humans then?

They waved around their sticks, unafraid of the consequences. Territorial markings everywhere were ignored as they went where they pleased without fear of retaliation. And sometimes, they would one-sidedly beat beasts much weaker than themselves just to steal their freedom.

The White King hated it.

He loathed humans.

But then came the problem: how could he hunt them if he could not hurt them? Though he had never tried and no human had ever laid eyes on him, he knew, instinctively, that he couldn't — that he simply could not do anything against the force protecting those weaklings.

And so, he thought. And thought. And thought again.

For a very long time.

He was no fool. The trick to hunting was to know what you were hunting. Too many cubs lost their lives going after prey that was too strong for them.

If you knew nothing, then you probably weren’t hunting at all.

Rather, you were the one being hunted.

That was why the White King eventually took a step back and observed the humans whenever he chanced upon them. And he was right to do so, because his years of observation allowed him to see patterns he would have missed.

Like how the humans always had strange sticks in their hands whenever they used those peculiar powers he couldn't understand. And when they had it hidden away, they couldn’t use those powers until they took it out again.

The White King had also discovered a pattern as to when they arrived.

On one particular day of every third mating cycle, the world as he knew it would change. Strange walls would separate certain areas from the other, and even more strangely, trying to cross those walls would transport you to a completely different part of the world. Whenever this happened, all beasts understood that it was best to stay where they were to avoid getting lost.

But the White King was different.

He was the king. The alpha of alphas. And so, he would go where he pleased.

And where he pleased to go was wherever the hated humans were.

Even before he discovered his hatred for humans, the White King was already very thankful for this bizarre phenomenon. Being unable to choose or even know where you would end up was inconvenient, but if he was lucky, a strong foe would be waiting for him — like the red dragon, his strongest adversary to date.

He had the event that brought them together to thank for that meeting.

And when the White King realized that it also heralded the arrival of humans, he felt even more thankful for the mysterious event.

No matter how hard he tried, he could not find any humans most of the time — and the only exception was the day the walls appeared. It would then be a game of luck if he managed to see a human. But there was at least a chance for him to meet one on that particular day.

And today was that day.

The day the walls appear once again.

After decades of observing how humans acted, the White King now felt ready to hunt them. If all went according to plan, he didn't even need to show himself. Those hapless humans would never know what killed them.

The protection surrounding these weaklings prevented creatures who weren't humans from harming them, but the White King deduced that there were other ways to inflict harm.

Such as the ground beneath them caving in. Or simply launching a tree into the air and having it coincidentally fall on them. An avalanche was yet another way too.

There were many ways, and the White King planned to try them all.

"P-please, no...!" One human squealed as it stumbled onto the dirt, too tired to continue running. "I d-don't know who's doing this, but stop it! Th-this is treason against the republic!"

The White King stalked it from afar, observing the human with shorter fur on its head than the other two it had just killed a moment ago. These ones seemed to be the males of their species, but it hardly mattered, since all humans were weak. He tried to think of a new way to slay this one, all while the hapless fool's terrified whining served as music to his ears.

Because of the unpredictable nature of the barriers, the White King was sometimes unlucky enough not to meet a single human. It had made observing them very difficult, so it had taken the White King a truly long time to gather a satisfactory amount of information about them.

Today seemed different though, since he was able to encounter quite a lot of them. He managed to find the group of three this human belonged to, but before that, he had found a grand total of nine humans.

Encountering twelve humans in just a single day was unheard of. In previous years, the most he'd ever seen in a day was two.

Perhaps it was proof that even the world didn't want these pests scurrying around in it.

"No... No! NO! Help! Someone! I don't want to die! Some cunt's trying to kill me! Help! Anyone!"

The White King's large golden eyes sadistically watched the human wallow in its own fear. Playing with one's food was bad and he used to beat it out of his pack's younglings as soon as possible, but these disgusting humans deserved it for their disrespectful desecration of nature.

He would not give them peace that easily.

This was his world. And they could not do as they pleased here.