Jonathan stared at the reward, shocked. This was one of the best boons he had ever received from the System. It was a means to shatter his limits, and find power beyond that of his level. Jonathan wasn’t sure what the two lines of question marks represented, but he assumed that they stood for rarities that he hadn’t found yet. In any case, that was fine. He had a good idea where he was going to use the upgrade.
You have chosen to upgrade Nascent God: Transcendent!
Nascent God: Transcendent->Lesser God: Godly
Error!
You do not possess the requisite godly abilities to utilize this title! You must acquire them, or else this title upgrade will kill you.
Transporting to the Trial of Divinity…
Stand by for Ascension.
Epilogue
Edgar and the others waited outside of the dungeon for Jonathan’s emergence. Most of them had been there for a while, having left after the trial of Mediocrity. A few had elected to challenge the Trial of the Unknown, Arkanon, Edgar and Hushar. Luckily for them, the trial had been far different than Jonathan’s. Instead of being the playground of an outer god, their trial had instead been a dark maze, filled with all manner of stealthy monsters, sneaking around in a gloom so dense that even Tier 4 eyes could not see through it.
The rewards were good, however, and the skills that the three had gained would be useful going forwards. Each had received one aligned with the conceptual natures of their element, allowing them to use a greater fraction of its strength at a level beyond their own.
As a result, the challenge had been far quicker than Jonathan’s, leaving the group waiting out beyond the cavern’s mouth for their leader to return. Only, it had been a few days already.
“Do you think something happened to him?” Eliza asked, as she sat by a crackling fire. None of them needed the heat, but it was comforting nonetheless.
Arkanon shook his head. “To Jonathan? I doubt it. He probably challenged the final trial. I have faith.”
“So do I,” Eliza replied, “but it’s that faith that’s making me nervous. Surely he would have finished by now?”
Arkanon sighed. “What can we do but wait? Let’s give it some time. If he is truly dead, then we must take on his quest. Gather resources, grow stronger, and break the Hells in his place.”
Edgar sat quietly nearby, but at this, he looked up. “Do you think we have what it takes? Remember, the circle lords can separate us during battle. I actually think we might have a chance as a group, once we reach the peak of Tier 4. But individually?” Edgar shook his head. “Not a chance.”
“We’re all assuming the worst here,” Hushar interjected. “I think Jonathan will return eventually. He’s always succeeded.”
Arkanon gazed at the cavern mouth. “I certainly hope so. I certainly hope so…”
In Cessation
The Stillborn Hegemon had roamed the wastelands of his realm for weeks, without any sight of his quarry. It was as if Jonathan Harlowe had vanished from the face of Cessation. Hordes of undead patrolled the land alongside him, combing it tirelessly for traces of the living. However, there were none. Instead, all that remained was dust, bones, and the drab, dry world that was the third circle of Hell. A sense of creeping dread, something that the Stillborn Hegemon often engendered in other people, was now filling his psyche. He was not fond of the sensation, to say the least.
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He was currently completing his final patrol of the realm, but it was looking hopeless. A faint inkling of the reason behind Jonathan’s disappearance was that the man had somehow gained access to Tartarus. The only other option was that the man had returned to the previous realm, having given up. The Hegemon would have liked that to be the case, but he doubted that a man who had already killed two circle lords would give up that easily. As a being who had never experienced defeat or fear, the sudden appearance of that emotion had sent the Hegemon’s mind into turmoil.
A few days passed, and he eventually convinced himself of the truth. He was going to die soon, and there was only one thing that he could do to stop that. Sighing, the Stillborn Hegemon used an ability that few circle lords had ever used before. He challenged the lord of the next circle to a battle for the ascension of his realm. Only, the Hegemon had a different plan in mind.
Reality around him warped, the grey sands of Cessation turning into a nondescript disc of rock, extending out for dozens of miles in every direction. Before him stood a titanic, stone skinned centaur, covered in bulging muscles and wielding a massive obsidian club. Faint presences ringed the arena, the gazes of the other circle lords focused on the two fighters with lazer-like intensity. They were invisible to the Hegemon and the centaur, but there nonetheless. The Hegemon smiled. This detail would make his plan even easier.
“Hegemon. Why did you call me here?” Ashokan, Stone King of the Labyrinth, boomed. “Do you really think you can defeat me?”
The Hegemon would have smiled, if he could. Instead, his parchment thin lips peeled back in a terrifying facsimile of joy. “I have a different proposition. Have you heard of Jonathan Harlowe?”
Ashokan snorted. “The man who would be Hellbreaker? I have. Why?”
“He’s already killed Granath and Slothari. He’s coming for me, and then you next,” the Hegemon explained.
A booming laugh escaped the titanic centaur. “You truly have gone soft, Hegemon. Scared of a mortal? So he has promise. So what? Even if he makes it past you-”
“He has access to Tartarus,” the Hegemon interrupted. “He’s just as strong as one of us, if not more. At least, in terms of potential.”
Immediately, Ashokan froze, a sneer half formed on his face. “What?”
The Hegemon sighed. “I can’t kill him before he’s ready. He could be anywhere in Tartarus, and in my corresponding circle, there’s a Tier 5 hovering around. Some bastard named Alonak. No doubt assisting Harlowe.”
“So what would you have me do? I don’t see what coming here has to do with anything,” Ashokan replied.
“The rules of this place are very clear. If the challenger wins, they, and their realm will ascend to the place of the challenged. If the challenger loses, they cannot issue another challenge for a million years.” The Hegemon paused. “See what I’m getting at here? Why I have been talking rather than fighting?”
“I do not-” Ashokan began. Then understanding dawned on him. “Oh.” The sound escaped him like wind from a bellows. “Why has nobody thought of that before?”
“There wasn’t any need. I think there is one now, though. To return the Hells to their original status. When there were nine circles, instead of a hundred.” The Hegemon grinned, forcing his recalcitrant flesh into what was more like a grimace than anything else. “Do you agree to a tie, Ashokan? Are you ready to make history?”
The stone centaur paused in thought, before nodding. “I do.”
A notification scrolled across the screens of every System user in the Hells at that moment.
The Stillborn Hegemon and Ashokan, King of the Labyrinth, have agreed to a truce. Lord Arkanon commends you on your ingenuity. Cessation and the Labyrinth have now been merged into one realm, with the mana concentration of the higher one.
Both of the circle lords were teleported back to their realms. Only, there was no Cessation, or Labyrinth anymore. A strange fusion of both remained in their place, twisting spires of warped rock creating canyons and pathways across the desolate sands of the land.
Ashokan and the Hegemon stood on the top of a monolithic tower, the fusion of their citadels, looking over their new domain. Expressions of satisfaction glowed on their faces.
“To the dawn of a new era,” the Hegemon said.
Ashokan nodded once as the bleak sun rose high above the horizon. “To a new era.”