The Stubborn Skill-Grinder In A Time Loop

The drawer in his kitchen still contained all his old cleaning supplies.

Most important of which, was the familiar dirty rag he used to dust his home.

Orodan had missed this.

He never thought he’d enjoy cleaning so much, but here he was, giving validation to everyone who’d made fun of him in his first life for having a Cleaning related title.

The dirty rag was used to methodically and studiously wipe down all the surfaces and countertops, ridding them of dust. His bedside table was wiped down, his bed was made presentable, and he took the rugs outside to give them a good beating to rid them of dust and debris.

He almost damaged the rug, forgetting his newfound strength for a brief instant, but moderated himself in time.

Finally, the cobblestone pathway leading to his hovel was thoroughly cleaned with a broom to sweep the loose rocks to the side.

The familiar neighborhood well which he hadn’t seen for so long was then used to draw water to wet a separate rag. And Orodan got to work furiously scrubbing the floors and surfaces of his home.

He even went a step further today and decided to wipe down the very stones that composed the rocky path leading to his abode.

[Cleaning 40 → Cleaning 41]

Quadruple action increases and his high-level physical skills meant that the task was completed with ridiculous speed. Only slowed by the risk of going fast enough to damage the material he was cleaning.

If he chose, he could be the greatest household cleaner in the county. The maids and butlers of noble houses stood no chance against Orodan Wainwright.

It felt incredible.

This was what he was missing. The feeling of stubborn discipline and routine toil.

The emotions from ending the last loop were still on his mind, so he decided to work through them by further focusing on the one skill that was a constant in his life before the loops.

He had finished cleaning his own home… but what stopped him from going further?

The small box underneath a floorboard was brought out and Orodan pulled out a paltry three hundred silver. His current savings, accrued throughout his time in the county militia.

Scrounged together from his salary of a single gold coin a year, it was pitiful. Especially when he dealt in sums of over a thousand gold in the past loop. But Orodan felt it’d more than suffice for what he was intending.

Two blocks over was his destination.

‘Fodgarton’s General Goods’. That was the name of the shop before him. It held all manner of basic daily necessities, such as bread, groceries, travel rations, basic clothes and tools… and most importantly, cleaning supplies.

The moon was still high in the sky, thus the shop was naturally closed. But, the door wasn’t an obstacle for someone who could shatter mountains, and Orodan gently pulled it off the hinges and made way for the counter.

He placed the sack containing three hundred silver pieces onto Fodgarton’s counter and began perusing the store.

Orodan had always found actual cleaning supplies such as cleansing solution to be a waste of his money, but now his outlook had changed. If he really wanted to further the skill, he’d have to take into account each and every little thing that contributed to the process of Cleaning.

It was strange, but Orodan truly enjoyed cleaning. His other crafting skills were fine and well, but at heart something about the Cleaning skill spoke to him. Which was why it had high levels even before he began the time loops.

He looked throughout the shelves and found sturdy mops and brooms, heavy-duty barrels meant to hold prodigious amounts of water, large jugs of cleaning solution and entire stacks of rags and soap bars. He also grabbed a few bottles of polishing powder and even took a set of small tools used by craftsmen to thoroughly clean their nooks and crannies of their workstations and products.

Orodan shoved all of this into multiple large sacks and strapped them across his shoulders, the weight being nothing to him. The total value of the merchandise was under two hundred silver pieces, and Orodan had left three hundred on the counter. The remainder should pay for the door he dismantled and then some.

He then made for his hovel once more, new equipment and supplies in hand.

A do-over was called for. Orodan was eager to see just how far the Cleaning skill could be pushed, and how much it was impacted by the equipment and material factor.

The floor had yet to dry, so Orodan decided to speed it up by casting the beginnings of a small Draconic Fireball in his hand and waving it over the damp parts of the floor. The heat caused the wet floor to quickly dry and Orodan put the spell out lest he obliterate the entire neighborhood by accident.

He then got to brooming.

The horse hair broom he wielded made an immediate difference when he tested it. His own in comparison had bristles composed merely of cheap straw, and it was also worn. Although, Orodan had to admit, he could make a far superior broom handle with his current Woodworking skill if he so desired.

Still, the new broom caught much more of the small bits of dust that remained, and Orodan felt that his do-over of the floor was now far better than his initial attempt with an inferior tool. His Tool Mastery, which was a general amplifier for tool usage, also contributed greatly.

Next came the process of mopping the floor with his newly purchased tool and cleaning solution.

He headed to the nearby well and brought the oversized barrel with him. Using the bucket and chain would take too long, so he simply jumped down the well with the barrel and leapt back up after filling it. Wealthier towns had magical wells, but Ogdenborough was too poor for that.

It would’ve appeared ridiculous to anyone watching. But such a feat was something even an Adept-level martial specialist could perform.

He had purchased neutral cleaning solution rather than an acidic one. Chiefly because an acidic solution would potentially wear or damage the wood and stone surfaces he would be cleaning. The advantage of loosening dirt and grime that it provided was covered by Orodan’s own strength. He wasn’t an infirm old grandmother struggling to get grime off the floor, but a warrior, who would attack the foul detritus and eradicate it. Anything that refused to come off, his brute strength would handle.

[Cleaning 41 → Cleaning 42]

Such a focused and introspective effort at Cleaning was truly doing wonders for his gains in the skill. Body Tempering and Physical Fitness provided benefits to his sight as well. His eyes were far sharper now than the last time he’d cleaned. He could truly see the smallest particles of dirt by focusing in with his naturally powerful vision.

As he worked, he ruminated. And Orodan fell into a trance.

What was Cleaning?

To remove dirt and debris from an object?

That conception sounded too basic to Orodan. It was also limited to merely dirt and debris.

As he dipped the mop in cleaning solution and swept, he dwelled more on what exactly cleaning was. Certain things were a failure and undesirable when it came to the act. Such as scrubbing hard enough to shave material off. Yes, technically the wooden floorboard looked clean on the surface, but he hadn’t actually cleaned it properly… he’d merely accepted the sub-par result of taking material off with the unwanted detritus.

Orodan then came to understand, that much like other skills could have a perfect result, a desired outcome. So too, could Cleaning.

He stopped his broad strokes with the mop, and instead knelt down upon the floor, staring very closely at an individual floorboard. This was the floorboard at the leftmost corner of his bedroom.

To the untrained and naked eye, the floorboard looked squeaky clean. A product of someone with over 40 Cleaning working at it.

But, to his profound eyes… there was still dirt on it. Some of it was almost fused into the wood, within its grain. And some was in the small cracks and dents in the dilapidated floorboard. The dents and cracks were a separate matter and the purview of Woodworking and the Repair skill. But even if he had a perfect wooden board, it could still be dirty. Damage and cleanliness weren’t mutually exclusive.

What use was performing broad sweeping strokes with his mop if he couldn’t get the result correct on this individual floorboard?

If he couldn’t do it right… why do it at all?

He took a wet rag in his hand and dipped it in the cleaning solution. The liquid was heated to a warm temperature with an uncast charge of Draconic Fireball. Orodan then knelt down, and scrubbed. His target wasn’t the entire floor, but this individual floorboard at the leftmost corner of his bedroom.

His goal? To clean this single wooden floorboard perfectly.

[Cleaning 42 → Cleaning 43]

His technique was rudimentary. Many particles of the wood simply flaked off as he scrubbed the dirt off. Four of him came into being and worked with raw focus.

The set of fine tools and brushes were brought out and all four of Orodan got to work. His main body scrubbed the floorboard, while the other three followed up by putting the small tools and brushes to use in targeting the tiny cracks and crevices, the uneven bumps and dents.

[Cleaning 43 → Cleaning 44]

Orodan Wainwright did not accept sub-par results.

Every single particle of this floorboard would be cleaned before he moved onto any others.

Five minutes passed, and finally Orodan could say he was somewhat satisfied.

[Cleaning 44 → Cleaning 45]

The floorboard had a little less material than it originally started with, but for a single instant of time, one side of it was clean. And then… dust naturally landed upon it.

But that was acceptable for now, as the ability to eliminate dust and particles of unwanted matter altogether was a future goal.

Tools were delicately used, and Orodan pried the floorboard out entirely without causing more than a minute amount of damage.

He had only cleaned one side of it. The other side and the edges all remained to be properly cleaned.

This was what Cleaning was really about.

The maids and butlers who did this for a living weren’t truly passionate about cleaning. Their skill levels were the mere byproduct of doing the deed. But which of them could say they focused on ensuring the deed was done right?

Another five minutes passed as Orodan fully cleansed this individual floorboard.

[Cleaning 45 → Cleaning 46]

He then skillfully slotted it back in, and moved onto the next floorboard in his bedroom.

This would take a while, but Orodan was genuinely enjoying himself.

Three more hours passed as Orodan diligently worked at cleaning.

With each floorboard he cleaned, he got faster at it, so it didn’t take as long altogether.

Upon cleaning the tenth floorboard, Orodan realized that the foundation underneath his hovel was also dirty. So all floorboards were pried off and the entirety of the foundation was given a good cleaning. Pests were eradicated with a localized usage of Vitality Black Hole, and thus the very foundation was scoured of all dirt, debris and dust.

All floorboards were placed back in their positions after being cleaned. The rest of his house was given a truly thorough clean, and Orodan took one more pass at the rocky cobbled pathway leading to his house. Each stone was cleaned gently but thoroughly, and was even polished with powder obtained from Fodgarton's.

Upon polishing the last rock, Orodan received one final message.

[Cleaning 47 → Cleaning 48]

Eight skill levels gained in a little over three hours of work. He truly was a monstrous talent in the art of cleaning if he put his mind to it.

As he dragged the barrel of cleaning solution out onto the road, Orodan heard the chime of Volarbury County’s dawn bell.

There was one bell tower for all of Volarbury County, and once upon a time Orodan wondered who ran the tower and what their qualifications were. No longer.

Bell towers were a rather common invention across the nations; staffed by wind mages who specialized in amplifying sounds to reach across vast distances. The towers themselves were enchanted and held various items and devices meant to help the wind mages crewing it in this endeavor. Furthermore, it wasn’t an especially prestigious position.

Retired or non-combatant mages often took up ancillary jobs relevant to their talents. Such as pyromancers staffing magical forges, geomancers working on a mining operation’s survey team or druidic mages working farms and forest preserves. Similarly, wind mages who weren’t interested in combat would work on a county’s bell tower.

He had an education now and knew such things.

As the dawn bell rang, people awoke and began their morning routines in preparation for going to work. Some began preparing breakfast, some did chores, and some came out their front doors to get some fresh air.

Where they saw Orodan’s hovel at 13 Briar Court. An almost glowing structure which looked pristine to the point that it was unnatural. He hadn’t even touched it with Woodworking, Repair or Maintenance. It was purely Cleaning.

“Orodan… what in the world?” asked one of his neighbors, a laborer. “How in the hells does your hovel look like that?”

“I cleaned it,” Orodan replied as he then began cleaning the very road of Briar Court itself. It was dirty, and it was a good way to grind skill levels. “Please move, there’s a stubborn bit of dirt under your feet.”

“T-this is…!” the man said as he nearly stumbled backwards. Too surprised to protest Orodan’s gentle shove as he was awe-struck by the abnormally clean hovel in his neighborhood.

Given the poverty of Ogdenborough, Orodan’s street of Briar Court was understandably a mere dirt road. The main roads of town which saw caravan and rider traffic were of course paved stone, as were the commercial areas such as Eversong Plaza. But only the mayor’s residential area had paved stone roads.

Thus, actually cleaning a road composed of loose dirt was a bit of a difficult task. But Orodan accepted the challenge all the same.

His cleaning solution wouldn’t exactly work, but the horse hair broom wasn’t a bad idea.

It was after the fifteenth minute of him sweeping the hard rocks and pebbles to the side that a man he’d seen very long ago approached him. It had been a while since Orodan had needed to eat, so Fodgarton the owner of the general store was an old face.

“Erm… Orodan, can we speak?” the man asked, nervously fidgeting about. He then took in the sight of Orodan’s hovel, and his jaw dropped at the nearly glowing sight.

“Go ahead, I’m not interrupting my work though,” Orodan said. “Unless of course, you have something in that store of yours that can clean a dirt road? Hmm… maybe a shovel to help smooth it out…”

“How in the world does your hovel look like that? Who did the work on it?” Fodgarton asked. “I don’t think old Westwater has the skill to make it look like that.”

“It wasn’t the carpenter,” Orodan replied as he continued clearing the road. “I simply cleaned it. Anyhow, what’d you want to talk about?”

As he broomed, he held back on using his action increases for the moment, if only to avoid frightening the poor shopkeeper. Yes, he was a member of the county militia, and the people in town knew the old Orodan as somewhat talented and the second strongest militia member after Sergeant Woodgard in Ogdenborough. But Fodgarton would still freak out if he saw three extra Orodans appear and simultaneously broom the dirt road.

These people lived in a world where Adepts were the top of their social hierarchy and most had never seen an Elite directly.

In the interest of swiftly acquiring what he wanted from the man, Orodan held back. At least until he could acquire a shovel and some more cleaning supplies.

Fodgarton brought himself under control. Even the old Orodan was someone who the shopkeeper tried to remain on good terms with. “Ah yes, a sack of three hundred silver was left on the counter of my shop and the door was politely removed,” the shopkeeper spoke. “And now the militia’s night patrols tell me you’ve been cleaning since midnight using supplies that look similar to what would be among my wares.”

“I apologize if I inconvenienced you, but I hope the silver was enough to cover it,” Orodan replied. “Did you perhaps need more? Give me some time and I’ll repay you.”

“No! No… that wasn’t why I came here. Far from it in fact,” Fodgarton spoke. “Rather, you overpaid me by a decent amount and I was simply checking in to ensure you didn’t want anything else. As it stands, you have a hefty amount of store credit. At least a hundred silvers worth.”

It felt strange to Orodan, to hear a hundred silvers spoken of as though it was a big sum. He truly had spent too much time in the loops and become accustomed to all the wealth he was surrounded by.

Either way, it was awfully nice of Fodgarton to check in on him. Orodan vaguely recalled the shopkeeper attempting to get into his good graces before the loops too. Which made sense given that Fodgarton wasn’t one of House Argon’s sanctioned merchants who had dispensation to trade in Eversong Plaza. The man was an unconnected merchant who was operating on the bottom rung of society, in the poorest town in the Republic.

Of course he’d try and make connections with Orodan who was a member of the county militia.

“Well, if you have a shovel and woodworking tools I’d appreciate it. Alongside some more cleaning supplies too,” Orodan answered. The shovel would be used to smooth out the dirt road and maybe add some levels to his Maintenance skill in the process. “You can pocket the difference after this. Consider it payment for delivering the items to me.”

Fodgarton happily agreed and went to go fetch the items. The difference even after all that must’ve been substantial, and the man wasn’t wealthy enough to look down on such a sum.

Fodgarton delivered the items, and another hour passed as Orodan continued working on cleaning and smoothing out the dirt road all the way in a straight path till 4 Ale Road.

[Cleaning 48 → Cleaning 49]

[Maintenance 21 → Maintenance 23]

Cleaning and smoothing out such a long stretch of dirt road was good for his Cleaning skill, and it gave him two levels in Maintenance as well.

Additionally, people who saw gave him a wide berth as four of him were working upon the road. People who knew Orodan undoubtedly ran to the militia to inform them of his new ‘magical’ ability. But most people simply kept a healthy distance and gawked in wonder at what was likely the first display of anything magical they’d ever seen.

Finally, he arrived before the construction site at 4 Ale Road.

It was as he remembered, a half-built warehouse. Old man Hannegan was the foreman, and Vilia Coventor was the architect of the construction project.

As for the old man himself, he was barking orders at laborers and directing them to work as needed. Upon seeing Orodan, old man Hannegan approached.

“You’re late,” the old man said. “You missed your usual morning routine of unloading the cart.”

“I was preoccupied with cleaning my area,” Orodan replied. “Your laborers couldn’t help you unload it? You have at least ten pairs of hands working for you.”

“These lazy louts? None of them are anywhere near level 20 Physical Fitness like you are Orodan,” old man Hannegan replied and Orodan wondered how long it’d been since he actually was at such a low level of Physical Fitness. “But yes, I’ve been hearing whispers about town that you know magic and are obsessively cleaning and setting the road for some reason. Is this why you’ve missed your shift today?”

“Partially,” Orodan answered. “The main reason is, I just wanted to train my Cleaning skill. Now then, do you need a hand with this construction project or what?”

“Do I need a hand?! Orodan… I can’t just take you on as a mere laborer if the rumors about you knowing magic are true,” old man Hannegan spoke. “At least a dozen people have walked by and told me about it, and I have no doubt that the Burgher’s men will be coming to investigate the rumors once the local barracks hears about it. I’ll get in trouble if I officially hire you when you’re somebody who should be serving the county in a better position. What was it anyways, Bloodline? Blessing?”

“Neither,” Orodan answered. “Anyways, you don’t need to pay me, but I do insist on helping you.”

“I admit, cleaning up the work site would be a nice thing,” the old man said, accepting the non-answer. “But apart from that you want to help us in the Laboring part of the job?”

“More than that old man,” Orodan replied, causing the man to frown at being called old. “I know Woodworking and Blacksmithing. Let’s see if we can’t spruce this warehouse up a bit after I clean it up.”

The old man could only sigh and shake his head at what antics were about to befall his work site.

Two hours.

This was how long it took Orodan to fully construct the entire building from its state of partial construction, to finish.

In the interest of not causing crime to befall the owners, Orodan didn’t empower the wood using Wood Communion. Well, he didn’t do it much anyways. But, even without empowered wood, he was plenty good enough to make the warehouse impressive by himself.

His Woodworking was at the Adept-level, thus all manner of tasks involving wood were completed with swift expertise beyond anything most of the laborers had ever seen. Beams and planks were expertly sawed, things were skillfully put together, and his tools were employed judiciously to amplify his effectiveness via Tool Mastery. Additionally, the metallic parts of the warehouse were shaped and topped up a bit as Orodan used an uncast charge of Draconic Fireball to heat the metal and mold things into shape with a blacksmith’s hammer that was laying around. Both Woodworking and Blacksmithing had gained a level each from the joint project and practical application of them.

His Physical Fitness and action increases meant that he alone could contribute the manpower of thousands of laborers.

Finally, the work site was cleaned immaculately, alongside the entire warehouse. Something that had pushed his Cleaning to level 50.

He had decided long ago that he would help Old Man Hannegan and Vilia Coventor with building this warehouse. This was Orodan keeping that promise now and in whichever loops he could moving forward.

“Orodan… this is… how did you even do this? How have you become capable of all this?” old man Hannegan said in disbelief. “And your Physical Fitness, it’s at least 40 isn’t it?”

“I may have been studying in my spare time,” Orodan answered with a smile. The studying being a six month loop at the Bluefire Academy. “And I haven’t neglected my training overly much either.”

His Physical Fitness was at level 85 of course. But not like old man Hannegan could tell the difference. And Orodan wasn’t about to show off by throwing a mountain.

Vilia Coventor then approached him. The ragged girl with a reserved demeanor profusedly thanked him, and the three of them exchanged pleasantries for a bit as Orodan cleaned up the final bits of the construction mess.

“So… what do you intend to do now Orodan? I assume you’ll be reporting your new abilities to the militia?” the old man asked. “Whether it’s a Bloodline or a Blessing, Burgher Ignatius will have a place for you at his side in Trumbetton.”

What did Orodan intend to do?

From the get-go he’d done nothing but focus on his Cleaning skill and subsequently helping Vilia and the old man build the warehouse. But now? He had time ahead of him, and he needed to decide what to do with it.

The Bluefire Academy was immediately ruled out. As were other academies for the moment. He’d had enough of Bluefire, and seeing certain people would make him dwell on the fact that they’d forgotten everything. This wasn’t to say that academies were ruled out altogether, as he did want to explore Goldleaf and the Novar’s Peak Academy eventually. But for now, academies weren’t suitable.

Chiefly however, he didn’t know how easily he could be detected by the three enemy Gods through the unwanted Blessings he now held. Orodan suspected that being around any powerful faithful of theirs might cause him to be discovered, at which point they might descend unto him in order to figure the matter out.

And while Orodan was confident in fighting them off again, he wasn’t as confident about not causing mass civilian casualties in the process as he ramped up Eternal Soul Reactor.

Academies and centers of power were thus ruled out. As a matter of fact, Orodan felt that even being in Ogdenborough wasn’t entirely safe. At least some of the Elites and Masters in Eversong Plaza and beneath Mount Castarian likely held Blessings. And while he had Fate Disconnect, at least some people could peer past the Blessing of Ozgaric he held through Blessings of their own, which would lead to him being discovered if he ever ventured near powerful diviners.

Orodan took a moment and pondered. After which he identified his four immediate goals.

Orodan had four priorities for the loops moving forward then.

First, to get away from civilization, lest he eradicate whatever town or city he was in by battling the possession attempts from the Gods. He was no stranger to death, but as time went on and he acquired more power, he felt a sense of dishonor against allowing the massacre of the weak and innocent. It wasn’t the warrior’s way. He’d rather fight divine possession attempts far away from bystanders. This part hopefully wouldn’t be too complicated, as Ogdenborough was right next to the Novarrian border south across the mountain, but once one passed the mountain, to the west was wilderness.

Second, he had to increase the level on Fate Disconnect so that it could truly conceal everything about him. Orodan had the skill on from the instant the loop began, however he still felt that his soul resonated strangely and let out some very minor ripples into the tapestry since he was now a Chosen of Agathor. His Fate Disconnect skill wasn’t yet strong enough to completely block these from being emitted, and he’d undoubtedly be discovered the moment he met a faithful of the War God face to face. These ripples bypassed his Blessing from Ozgaric, and without Fate Disconnect would’ve lead to Avatars descending upon his location to investigate.

Third, he needed to find a way to tear these unwanted Blessings out of his soul. Admittedly, he wasn’t too sure on where to start looking for answers in that regard, but thought that Vespidia with her strange ability to sever a divine connection was a good start. But to do that, he’d need to train Fate Disconnect to a high enough level where he could safely enter civilization. Which necessitated getting into situations where Eternal Soul Reactor was flaring hard enough to strain and develop Fate Disconnect.

This all tied into his fourth, and arguably most important goal. To find powerful opponents to die against.

Yes, it was time for an extended period of death loops once more.

To go away from civilization, to train Fate Disconnect and to find powerful foes to die against all so he could eventually seek a method of getting rid of the divine influences within him.

What better place was there to do all this than the abyssal depths?

In fact, his old mentor Arvayne Firesword had taken him to a good location for it in his last loop.

It was time to return to Ranmere’s Folly by himself.

But before that, he had the matter of an ancient machine to settle

Cold winds whipped his hair about and Orodan had to occasionally frown to scare off a species of predatory bird he saw circling the mountain. They were merely at the Adept-level and wisely fled once they instinctively sensed his power.

The peak of Mount Castarian wasn’t occupied by any cataclysmic monster. It was next to the borders of both the Republic of Aden and the Empire of Novarria. They wouldn’t tolerate anything of substantial power deciding to roost atop the mountain.

A shame, for the view was quite magnificent.

Orodan could vaguely see the High Spire of Karilsgard a great distance away. He had a good view of Trumbetton and Adeltaj’s town of Velestok, and the sprawling Aenechean Forest past that. And on the other side of the mountain he could see some of the closer Novarrian towns.

Getting up here hadn’t been too hard. For someone of his capabilities anyhow.

For Orodan, the challenge wasn’t the climb, but the multiple Imperial and Republican watchers that lined the way up the mountain. It made perfect sense given how important the object beneath the mountain was that numerous people would be tasked with maintaining watch above it too.

They worked in pairs, and Orodan was certain they had the standard fail-safe methods of communications at certain intervals, life detector amulets and the like. Which was why he’d simply blitzed to the peak of the mountain in a flash of speed quick enough that none of the Adept-level watchers detected it.

Orodan could slaughter Grandmasters like chickens now. These watchers didn’t have eyes fast enough to spot him.

Time passed, and soon, the announcement came on.

“To the brave and hard-working citizens of the glorious Republic of Aden, I High-Burgher Sarvaan Ilsuan Arslan, leader of your elected council speak to you today in celebration and comm-”

Orodan tuned it out. He’d heard it enough times throughout his loops.

He didn’t have a clear line of sight to Eversong Plaza below, but he figured the battle must’ve been raging.

However, the beating wings of a dragon interrupted his thoughts.

“Enjoying the view up here are we?”

It was a man atop a green scaled dragon, wearing silver robes and with a lance in his right hand. Orodan personally thought that the pegasus knights he’d seen pulled the flying lancer look off better.

“It’s not bad. I can see Karilsgard from here,” Orodan conversationally replied. “I wonder if a wind mage could alter the weather to allow for even farther sight.”

“Altering the weather on such a large scale would require a Grandmaster of wind magic. I don’t think they’re on hand to provide a good viewing for you,” the dragon rider replied. “But that’s besides the point. Might I ask what you’re doing here?”

“Would you accept it if I said I was enjoying the view?” Orodan asked in turn.

“I would not. You’ve made it to the top of the mountain without triggering any alert from the watchers, which suggests that you’re at least a high-Elite,” the man spoke. “And you’re awfully casual about the presence of a dragon. You do know that Ulrusdun here is a Master-level dragon, correct?”

“I recall reading something about that,” Orodan replied. “You’re something of a celebrity then? That sounds quite impressive, albeit exhausting. Anyways, how did you find me?”

Fame could sometimes become a bother as he’d learned in the last loop.

“True, you bypassed the watchers… but we have scrying eyes monitoring the mountain at all times,” the man spoke. “Did you think the sudden appearance of a man who bypassed all watchers and decided to just whimsically sit down at the peak would go unnoticed?”

Whoops. A minor oversight on Orodan’s part. He’d have to use Mana Black Hole to drain them dry next time, but even then their destruction would tip people off.

“No, but I was thinking the awakening of the machine below which will be used to destroy most of Volarbury County would be of greater concern,” Orodan answered. “As for what I’m doing? I’m here to stop it from destroying my home town.”

“You… who are you and how do you even know of this?” the man asked. “Besides, there’s no guarantee that the Novarrians will control the machine once the stage is set.”

“No guarantee… unless House Argon decided to play traitor and side with the enemy instead.”

“Tch… of course. I’d always suspected it,” the man remarked bitterly. “Those bastards have always stifled our attempts at getting intel in Ogdenborough and the plaza. Let me guess… Baron Viglas Argon is the traitor?”

“Yes, he’s working alongside a Master-level Guzuharan raider and the Novarrian Duke Arestos. Together they plan on overpowering the Republican team of researchers within the main control chamber,” Orodan answered. “Duke Arestos is also on the higher end of strength for a Master. I suspect your Republican force didn’t account for his might.”

“Damn it all to the hells…!” the dragon rider cursed. “Is this why you’re sitting atop the peak, waiting? Ulrusdun here has the instincts of a monster, he tells me you carry the aura of a Grandmaster. I don’t know who you are, but the pact forbids your interference lest you wish to risk the wrath of the Empire.”

“You’re correct, but there’s one detail you’re missing,” Orodan replied. “I don’t care about the wrath of the Empire.”

The conversation was cut short as the mountain erupted, and the ancient war machine rose from under Mount Castarian.

Orodan rose high into the sky as the peak he was sitting on soared far higher, used as a hat by the rising machine.

The metallic humanoid golem was surrounded by an aura of familiar red mana. Its core glowed dangerously, with enough raw power to devastate the whole county. Its red core giving off an ominous glow.

And then…

…Orodan used Mana Black Hole

It was now at level 79, and no longer the same skill which nearly killed him when he attempted to absorb the power of the machine’s mana core the first time.

The machine was gigantic. The distance between its core and the head where Orodan was… could be measured in miles.

Yet at level 79 of the skill, this distance wasn’t of any concern. Orodan hadn’t tested its range limits extensively, but he suspected he could drain every iota of mana for at least a few miles via Mana Black Hole. It was an incredibly strong skill now, and although he’d face more resistance from stronger individuals, the ability to essentially drain a town wide area of all mana was incredibly potent and opened up some tactical considerations. If he ever chose to become the overly tactical sort.

He’d be quite prized in sieges and warfare due to the ability to drain the entire enemy force’s soldiers, equipment, enchantments and wards of mana en masse. Mana Black Hole alone would make nations fight over the chance to recruit him, and send assassins if he was on the opposing side.

In regards to the machine’s core however, it stood no chance.

The ancient machine underneath Mount Castarian, which was undoubtedly meant to tear open a permanent passage to the hells. Which could only be activated once every two hundred years after gathering enough energy. Which could destroy an entire county.

Was disabled in an instant, as all its mana was sucked right out of its core and into Orodan’s reserve of Mana Black Hole. The machine stood completely inert, a symbol of today’s events for the future.

[Quest Completed → Battle of Ogdenborough - Ancient war machine disabled]

[Reward Granted → Permanent +1 Action Increase]

Orodan instinctively felt the ability to perform a quintuple action settle within his soul now. He had a vague estimate that he could afford one more action increase before his soul could accommodate no more at its current strength. Perhaps if he found a way to get rid of all his Blessings he’d be able to make room for more.

Frankly, the amount of mana required to destroy the entire county was now a paltry sum to Orodan. For he who could channel enough power to sink Guzuhar with some divine assistance while fighting the Eldritch Avatar, what was a mere ancient dimensional machine?

The amount of mana he drained from the machine wasn’t a problem. But the response to him doing so, was.

Previously, Orodan had only ever assaulted Eversong Plaza and stopped the machine in the dead of night. The response and the resistance he’d encountered then, wasn’t as heavy. Particularly because the time he’d assaulted the plaza in past loops was near the time the betrayal inside the chamber had occurred, and the Novarrians hadn’t wanted to tip anyone off by having too heavy a presence at the time.

But now it was afternoon, and the machine had already awoken. The Republican force inside the mountain was killed, and the Novarrians, House Argon and the raiders were already in control of the mountain. Which meant that they were more comfortable in having their Grandmasters hanging around the mountain at this time in the afternoon.

So when a javelin composed of lightning came his way, Orodan wasn’t surprised as he slapped it away. The shockwave from the collision shattered the entirety of the mountain peak atop the machine’s head. Although he did leap off the machine’s head and immediately begin creating distance. Moving away from Ogdenborough and civilization was his current priority.

The distance between him and his opponent was great, and Orodan had no doubt that he could outrun the enemy Grandmaster easily. But he didn’t want to risk a battle so close to a settlement full of civilians. Especially if the divine would sense him.

Ten seconds passed and Orodan gained enough distance from Ogdenborough and the nearby Novarrian towns that he now felt confident in making a stand against his pursuer. He was deep in the wild forests of Novarria now, and enemy reinforcements would undoubtedly be approaching.

The old Grandmaster with a wild look in his eyes immediately caught up, although he refrained from throwing any more javelins at Orodan. He wielded a spear and a satchel of javelins across his back.

“Interferer! You’ve violated the grandmaster non-interference pact! Who are you? I do not recognize your face,” the man spoke. “To deflect my javelin so casually… you must be a dual-Grandmaster at the very least. Why have you done this?”

“First of all, I’m not a Grandmaster yet,” Orodan answered and the man’s eyes took on a range of emotions and then settled on becoming very serious. “And I can’t exactly allow you Novarrians to destroy my hometown with that machine of yours can I?”

“Powerful as you are, your hometown must’ve undoubtedly been shielded in preparation for whichever way this venture went, no?” the javelineering spearman asked. “Whichever side won, we even mutually agreed to leave certain towns out of the line of fire. At worst, only some hapless bumpkins would’ve died.”

Old man Hannegan was among the ‘hapless bumpkins’ this old fogey was happy to let die.

Orodan himself was a killer, but to hear such flagrant disregard for life was a bit much.

“I can’t say I’m a saint… but that mentality is rather dismissive of innocent lives isn’t it?” Orodan asked.

“Us Grandmasters are thousands of years old. Whatever Blessing or potion you used to look so youthful doesn’t erase the fact that you’re also undoubtedly ancient,” the man spoke. “When you’ve lived as long as I have… what do the lives of a few thousand or even a million Apprentice-level civilians matter? The land will grow again, the Cathedral will lend aid, and the world will go on. Why do you care so much?”

“Because I grew up in Ogdenborough as one of these Apprentice-level civilians. What kind of warrior engages in the death of so many innocents? No wonder you’re so weak if all you’ve done for your millennia of life is slaughter those beneath you,” Orodan fired back, causing the man’s face to slightly twist in anger. Although he did conceal it well. “If the deaths of innocent people due to them being ‘hapless bumpkins’ is acceptable to you, then you shouldn’t complain if someone stronger decides to slaughter you in in turn, right?”

Orodan activated Death Rage.

He initially hadn’t wanted to kill this old man. Rather, a beating would’ve sufficed.

But to learn that this Novarrian was so complicit in the intended destruction of Volarbury County? Orodan didn’t complain or feel outraged if he died fighting. It was his way of life, he was a warrior. He lived by the sword and wouldn’t raise a word of protest if he died by the sword.

Similarly, those who lived for slaughter, could die by slaughter.

A Flash Strike crossed the distance instantly and the man was almost overwhelmed by just this. He must’ve been a stronger single-Grandmaster, as he struggled for a little bit, but wasn’t as strong as Adeltaj. Plus, for anyone who wasn’t overwhelmingly stronger… fighting Orodan Wainwright in melee combat was a suicidal affair.

All-Strikes, Endless Blitz and action increases weren’t necessary for such a pitiful opponent. Orodan wasn’t threatened by an individual single-Grandmaster any longer. The sixth sword stroke slew the Novarrian spearman/javelineer and his headless body hit the ground.

In the distance, Orodan could hear trees being chaotically uprooted as something was rampaging towards him. Soon the offending three Grandmasters reached him. The leader among them had an outraged look upon his face at witnessing the headless corpse of his comrade.

“Konstantinos! You… you killed him!” the man roared.

The slain Grandmaster must’ve been a close friend of this man, as there were no words exchanged. A furious melee erupted immediately.

The leader, who was incensed, was a dual-Grandmaster who held spears in each hand. Not a fighting style Orodan saw often. The other two were single-Grandmasters although they were on the higher end of strength.

Three-on-one. Just how Orodan liked it.

The ensuing melee absolutely obliterated the land around them for miles. It was a good thing Orodan chose to get some distance from civilization, or else countless innocents would’ve died. Just the collateral damage of this fight alone was enough to destroy Volarbury County.

His three opponents fought him with synchronized lethality. They were used to working together.

But what did that matter in the face of true strength?

Orodan was a titan, an unstoppable juggernaut. One of the two single-Grandmasters quailed at being on the receiving end of a Death Rage using warrior of his caliber. Grandmasters could sometimes get complacent and lose the psychological edge that made them warriors. Being powerful and living in a society where you could act as an untouchable elder often led to some ancients forgetting the feeling of struggle against a real opponent. Especially one that was stronger than them.

The other two weren’t as effected, although Orodan could tell even the dual-Grandmaster was shaken by his ferocity.

Death Rage, Endless Blitz and his action increases were used. He didn’t need to use All-Strike or the new fifth action increase. Even three against one these foes simply weren’t enough.

Ten seconds passed. He took not a single blow.

Orodan killed the psychologically weak Grandmaster first. The man died with terror upon his face as Orodan singled him out for savaging during an opening in the melee.

The two others died quickly after without the pressure of a three-on-one. The dual-Grandmaster’s look of rage and desire for revenge never left even as his head came off.

He had won.

In the last loop, he could only beat his mentor Arvayne Firesword fairly by fighting at the peak of his power and when the man’s greatsword was shattered. Orodan now felt that he could replicate this feat even if Arvayne was at full power, but not drawing upon divine assistance. In other words, Orodan was now as strong as a triple-Grandmaster Chosen, as long as they didn’t call upon any divine power. And even then… could he perhaps outlast them?

But, there were still foes that could give him trouble.

Space fluctuated, and one such foe came through a portal that opened fifty feet from him.

It was…

…Cruxamar Aetholion. The Chosen One of Eximus, the God of Time, and one of the enemy Gods who gave him an unwanted Blessing in the last loop.

An elderly face, with long flowing gray hair and a robe that looked utterly pristine as though it was freshly made.

“The Republic must want another war, for that can be the only reason why you’ve slain four of our Grandmasters so wantonly within our borders,” Cruxamar spoke. “You realize there is no negotiation or coming back from this point, yes? To kill four of our nation’s strongest is to deal us an irreparable blow which we must reciprocate. You-”

The Chosen’s words were interrupted as his eyes took on a frown. After a few seconds, they took on a subtle glow.

“I sense my Blessing upon you mortal… even through that shield you have conjured around your fate and soul. Yet strangely, I do not recall giving this to you.”

It was now Eximus, the God of Time, speaking.

“It’s a long story, one I have no intention of trusting you with any longer,” Orodan replied, challenge in his voice and defiance in his eyes.

“Your choice in the matter is irrelevant, for I sense the inklings of a Blessing upon you that I would only place upon one I needed to keep under close control. Come, let me descend unto you and see what has occurred.”

This was the moment.

Cruxamar’s eyes lost their glow, and he felt the full power of a God descend unto him.

But unlike last time…

…this time Orodan considered it to be the attack it was.

A roar of divine pain echoed for miles as the possession attempt was denied and the mental assault was returned almost fourfold. The eyes of Cruxamar Aetholion were glowing once more and Orodan made the interesting realization that Gods could only possess one Avatar at a time.

Were they perhaps limited to one consciousness themselves?

“Sacrilegious cur! To strike out against the divine… to defy my providence… you are the worst scum upon this world. You are a heathen! And your foul mythical skill will be examined in great detail once I capture and dissect your soul!”

Thus, the clash of man against divine began.

Orodan knew he was no match for a Chosen Avatar yet. He could likely best a Chosen One triple-Grandmaster now, but this was without them calling upon divine power.

To face the strongest form of a God upon the world, to face a Chosen Avatar, was lunacy.

It was… fun.

The first assault reduced him to a puddle. None of his defensive skills made a difference, although they might’ve saved him from being killed outright. A Chosen Avatar was far beyond the fledgling Othorion Evertree who he’d fought.

However, as Orodan learned from his fight against the elf in the last loop, Warrior’s Reciprocity could hurt Gods.

Especially when they took direct control of their Chosen like Eximus had.

The attacks were returned. Orodan reformed, and howls of divine pain continued ringing out as the Avatar of Eximus continued smiting Orodan where he stood.

Eternal Soul Reactor kept churning, and Orodan kept reforming through Harmony of Vitality.

“How long has it been since I’ve felt the sting of pain… what an unfathomable feeling,” Eximus spoke. “But that will be enough. I do not know which fell divinity empowers you, but I will not play its game any longer. This next strike will destroy every particle of your being.”

Eximus wasn’t lying.

A terrifying deluge of offensive power gathered in the form of a divine beam of chronomantic energy. This beam was amplified with enough energy that Cruxamar Aetholion’s body looked as though it would fall apart.

Which was then fired towards him.

And Orodan learned that despite Harmony of Vitality, he could still die if a singular attack of incredible potency hit him hard enough to destroy each and every bit of him. There was nothing left to reform from.

A keening wail ringing in the night sky awoke him.

His soul was hurt, but was now strong enough that he recovered the damage he took with a half hour of meditation and Soul Manipulation.

He then got to his feet and made way for ‘Fodgarton’s General Goods’. All the while, Orodan had a maniacal smile upon his face.

Sure, he hadn’t made it to the depths. But it was only his first try.

More importantly, he now saw the path before him. The consequences of stopping the machine during the day meant that Grandmasters would come after him, and when he killed them, a Chosen Avatar would descend upon him.

He needed to survive these obstacles if he wanted to reach Ranmere’s Folly and descend the depths there.

It was a return to the basics.

He would clean in an ever-expanding area until he reached the construction site, and after building the warehouse he would stop the war machine.

A time looper of intelligence and common sense would’ve perhaps bypassed the machine and headed for the depths for some safe training. Fighting on Republic territory so that their Chosen could get involved would’ve been the smart thing to do.

But who was Orodan Wainwright?

He would settle for no other way but the hard way.

He refused to let the matter of the machine go unsettled. And he would not take the easy way out by fleeing to the depths and avoiding the Novarrian Grandmasters.

This would be his new set of death loops.

To struggle against the force of every single Grandmaster and being of power the Novarrians could send his way on their territory. Once he’d bested them only then would Orodan allow himself to head for the abyssal depths at Ranmere’s Folly.

In his early death loops, his foes were Elites and Masters and the strongest he faced was Adeltaj Simarji.

But now he would be up against Grandmasters and Avatars. And when he surmounted that hurdle, who knew what horrors he’d encounter in the abyssal depths?

No matter how impossible the challenges, he would strain, struggle and gain skill levels along the way.

And he would die as many times as needed.

For Orodan Wainwright…

…was the stubborn skill-grinder in a time loop.