THEOS

When Luke came to, he was back in his room in Cyzicus’s castle. In the same clothes he had fallen unconscious in.

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he immediately shot to his feet a moment later, a protective talisman appearing in his hands and encased him in a golden bubble. His heart thumped in his chest in panic as he reconciled the last thing he remembered to his current situation.

It was only upon seeing the familiar surroundings that he gradually began calming down. He took a deep breath, just taking a moment to bask in the magnitude of what had happened.

“Holy shit,” he whispered.

A grin slowly formed on his face.

He had killed a Hero, avenged Sophia, upgraded his sword, and to top it all off– earned hundreds of stat points. In the span of a couple of days, taking him from the beginning of the Warrior-tier to around a quarter of the way through.

Not bad at all. He thought to himself approvingly. Super dangerous, but when everything works out that well, I can’t really complain. No risk, no reward and all that. He clenched and unclenched his hand. Taking a moment to just bask in his new found strength.

A single stat point in the Warrior-tier, went much further than one in the Mortal-tier. With a ratio of one to one-hundred, he had known that intellectually, but feeling it only made that more real, and left him eager to test his strength.

Soon. He affirmed to himself, already planning on challenging every Warrior he could think of. From Clite, to Nel, and even Heracles. He wanted a true measure of his abilities.

The prospect made him both excited and nervous. He was impressed and satisfied with how much he had grown, but knowing the distance he had covered, and what still remained… Well, it was hard not to feel insignificant in the face of powers so much greater than him.

Even so, he was happy with what he had. The gains he had made were nothing short of astronomical, and cultivation was a marathon, not a sprint– mostly.

Let’s see… He felt for the Seed planted in his soul, and went to open his status.

Instead, a glint of gold caught his eyes, and his gaze immediately locked onto his sword– Maximus, resting on a polished wooden rack on the other side of the room. Almost in a trance, he flew towards it.

It looked different.

Since he had bought it in the Luminous Sky Society, Luke had lost count over how many hours he had spent staring at the beautiful blade. He was intimately familiar with every nook, edge, and bend it had. Then once he had killed his first Sky Serpent with Nel over a month ago, he had right away noticed the thin blue line that ran down the groove in the center of it.

The changes this time were much more significant.

The blade had gained a foot in length, and looked both graceful and menacing– where that extra length came from, he didn’t know. Considering all the other ridiculousness he had borne witness to since he arrived on Theos however, the added mass didn’t concern him too much. Chalking it up to another mystery of mana to be looked into at a later date, he resumed his inspection of his upgraded blade, while making a mental note to start keeping a journal full of his questions, lest he begin forgetting all the questions he needed an answer to.

The gem encrusted in its pommel shimmered a little brighter than he remembered, and the blue line in its groove appeared to have deepened a little. As if the color had sunk a little further into the blade.

It looks like an entirely different sword. He nodded to himself, feeling a tad relieved.

He didn’t expect to run into anyone from Carim or maybe one of the handful of people from the Society who might recognize the sword. Nor were blades made out of gold uncommon among cultivators, but it was something he had been concerned about in the past. Not enough to never use his sword again, but enough to give him minor bursts of anxiety at night when on the rare occasion he didn’t exhaust himself enough to fall asleep the second his head hit his pillow.

I probably should have changed my name when I got here though. He sighed deeply. It is what it is. Luke is a fairly common name, so it’s not like anyone will be able to track me just based on that. Moreover, I look completely different, and now with my sword looking nothing like it used to… I’m even more in the clear.

But did I really tell everyone my full name… and that I was a Paragon. He slapped his forehead in irritation. He knew instinctively, especially after having almost died, that there was more that he had achieved by naming his sword than met the eye, and that the words he had spoken, had to be said, but even still, doing so left him feeling more exposed than he would have liked.

Couldn’t she have just died when I stabbed her in bed. Instead… He shook his head clear of the what ifs, while he ruminated over the rest of what happened.

Cybele’s intervention, the pomegranate seed, suddenly maxed out mana– It all felt so alien and bizarre to him now. As if the whole thing had been a fever dream, but the sword sitting before him was all the evidence he needed. It really had happened, and he would need to deal with the fallout. Whatever that looked like.

Still not the end of the world. Not great… but not the end of the world either. Luke or Lukas King, it doesn’t really matter. It’s also not like ‘King’ means anything in this world's language… unless it does? I haven’t heard the word used, but – hmm. Another thought sprung to his mind.

But then… don’t a lot of English words have Greek origins? The language I’m speaking isn’t actually Greek… but Zeus is as Greek of a name, as names gets. Maybe.

I never thought about it before, but were Arke and Aeolus speaking in English when he abducted my soul? I could understand everything they said, but I didn’t get Max’s memories of the language until I took over his body. Hell, I didn’t even have the Seed in my soul at that point, so I can’t even lean on that for an explanation. Could the other souls understand what they were saying too, or was it just me?

It could be a property of the Aether, or is it something else? Neither Arke or Aeolus seemed to think we wouldn’t understand them, Arke even gloated after killing him… She wouldn’t do that if we didn’t understand her…. Would she?

He shook his head, and added it to another list of questions he should probably find the answer too. He suspected though, that any questions that concerned the Aether, would have to wait until he was much stronger. Heracles meddling with it, had after all, drawn someone much more powerful than he could even begin to fathom to them.

Training his eyes back on the sword, he realized that the connection that had snapped into place when he named it still existed. It wasn’t obvious. Quiet, if he had to describe it, but noticeable when the blade was at the forefront of his mind.

Unconsciously he eased the hold he had on his mana, and like water winding down a river, it drifted down the path that existed between him and the newly named weapon.

The second it touched the sword, it began to glow an iridescent azure. Awareness blossomed in his mind.

He could feel Maximus. The same way he felt his own hands, and on instinct, he let his mana surge out from within the bounds of his sword, and commanded it to latch on to the space around it.

A grin came over his face as it rose into the air, and slowly began to glide the weapon to his waiting palm. He had seen other warriors telekinetically move objects about, and while he hadn’t had the time to test it for himself, he had an inkling of how it was actually done.

Feeling his sword in the air, he realized that what he was doing, while similar in result, was much more impressive than the standard brand of Warrior-tier telekinesis.

His sword had become a conduit for his mana. He didn’t know quite what that meant for him, but as the blade readily absorbed the resource and held it, and his own regeneration kicked in and began to fill his reserves, he couldn’t help but grow excited. It was like a battery, and something told him, he was just scratching the surface of what it was capable of, and as his mana filled it, an inkling of what it was began to emerge in his mind… a hunger, a desire to consume, and grow, and –

Someone knocked on his door and broke him out of his musing. Before he could answer one way or another, the handle turned, and a middle aged woman dressed in white robes confidently strode in, lugging a cart behind her.

“Hi?” Luke cocked his head to the side.

She rapidly grew pale, and her mouth opened and closed, her eyes darted from the sword in his hand, to where his feet hung a foot above the ground.

Clutching the side of her robes, she bowed with her spine parallel to the ground.

“Forgive me Elder. I thought you were asleep. I came to clean your r–”

“It’s fine.” Luke said awkwardly scratching the back of his head. “Would you mind coming back later, I want to rest for a little while longer.” He said evenly.

“Of course, Elder. I’ll inform the Emperor that you’ve awakened.” She said hurriedly, and then before he could respond, rapidly pulled the cart back, and disappeared down the corridor.

Shaking his head in amusement, he found a sheath for his blade, and strapping it on he slid the sword into it. He had plenty of time to learn of its new capabilities, especially with the tournament months away, but now wasn’t it.

Taking another deep breath, he looked around his room again, and touched down onto the ground. It was time to face the music. Striding towards the door, he rested his hand on the knob, before suddenly stopping in his tracks.

A single thought rang in his mind. The final part of the quest.

The Rebel’s storage ring.

Patting himself down, he reached into his pocket and sagging in relief, he pulled out two rings. One belonging to the Hero and the other to the Warrior he had killed.

Thanking whoever it was that had moved him for not taking them, he turned them both over in his hands. It was obvious which one belonged to who. Both were simple, unmarked bands of metal. One gold, and one silver.

The silver one belonged to the bald teen he had killed, while the gold one belonged to the Rebel– that was the real prize. Whether they belonged to a Warrior or a Hero though, both of them were dangerous. Booby-trapped if what he knew was right.

I guess I could just give them to Cyzicus or something, and see if he can get into them. It’s not like anything that’s in there is going to implicate me in any way.

But…

An unwilling expression spread across his face, before he shook it off.

I’ve been cautious so long that it’s becoming a habit… That’s not good. They left the rings with me, and I’m the one that killed her. I can’t really speak for every Argonaut, but I don’t think any of the people here would rob me anyway.

Besides… Cybele probably took the one thing of value that was in the ring anyway… Maybe even what the Seed wanted me to get. I wonder what that circlet was? A crown of some sort. She mentioned Clan Skyscar being descendants of Ouranos… which is wow… and then said something about him imprisoning his wife here. If I remember my myths right, that would be Gaia.

Gaia, a crown, and the descendant of a hopefully dead god, trying to rule over where another hopefully dead goddess was imprisoned eons ago.

Considering that the island is attacked by Earthborne… I doubt it’s a coincidence.

Is that the curse? He absently wondered, lightly rubbing his thumb over the ring, careful to keep his mana fully contained. Was the circlet something to do with the Island? Is that why the Rebel was trying so hard, and going so far to dethrone Cyzicus.

Resolving to bring up the issue with the man himself, he put the two rings back into his pocket, before stopping once again.

On a whim, he activated his inventory, and attempted to send both objects inside. Fully expecting to fail, like he had every other time.

Instead, they both went in.

Huh.