“So you had a Transcendence-rank skill the entire time or what?” Ratgul blurted out.
“Well, sometimes even I get just a tiny bit lucky.” Thalion grinned. “So, Lyrian, could you upgrade Acquire Form and Shapeshift?”
Those two were undoubtedly the best possible choices. Even if the rarity got partially downgraded after evolving to D-grade, the upgrades would still be absurdly valuable.
“Eh… yes.” Lyrian shook himself out of his stupor. “I’m honestly not even sure if that’s possible, but let’s try.”
The next moment they all appeared inside another massive chamber. Every wall was covered with giant murals portraying Lyrian in dramatically different poses. Some depicted him wielding a spear, others showed him overlooking armies or standing atop mountains with flowing white robes.
“Ehm…” Lyrian cleared his throat awkwardly before immediately slipping back into his theatrical demeanor. “Now then, mortal, as you desire, I shall grant you the two skill upgrades.”
The elf god placed one hand on Thalion’s shoulder.
All three other gods stared at him strangely, but Thalion quickly became distracted by the system notifications flooding his mind.
Sadly, the upgrades stopped at Divine rarity rather than Transcendence, but the changes were still incredible.
Shapeshift had become significantly faster and now included a form of temporary damage immunity while transitioning between forms. At least the wording strongly implied that parts of his body briefly phased in and out of existence during the transformation.
A very solid Divine-rank upgrade.
The changes to Acquire Form, however, were vastly more interesting.
First, the maximum number of stored forms had increased to thirty. That alone was already ridiculous.
But the truly insane changes started afterward.
His acquired forms would now automatically be elevated above the original beast’s rarity. That enhancement applied to both racial potential and skills.
The system specifically mentioned that acquired forms would become improved variants of the original creatures.
To Thalion, that sentence sounded like pure music.
And it only got better from there.
He could now acquire forms from living creatures even if they were at full health.
That one honestly felt stupid considering how terrifying his human form already was.
A single drop of blood was also enough now, and the age of the corpse no longer mattered. Even ancient remains could potentially provide forms.
The final line, however, was the most mysterious one of all.
All outliers may now be acquired.
Thalion had absolutely no idea what that meant.
But he definitely intended to find out.
Back on New Earth he likely wouldn’t have much time for crafting or experimentation anyway. Searching for powerful forms with these upgraded abilities would simply be far more rewarding.
“Huh. Looks like the upgrades cap at Divine rarity.” Lyrian crossed his arms thoughtfully. “Probably to stop noble brats from stacking Transcendence skills through easy system events.”
That immediately reminded Thalion of something else entirely.
Namely, that he had a lot of things he wanted to say about this “easy” system event.
“Since we’re already talking about limitations and design choices…” Thalion slowly began while crossing his arms. “What exactly were you thinking when you created this event?”
That instantly caught the elf god off guard.
“There were barely any beasts to level from. At first you encourage hiding and stealth, but then you give the hunters the ability to reveal exact locations nonstop. And D-grades in an early-to-mid E-grade event?”
Thalion’s voice grew sharper with every sentence.
“How exactly was a normal participant supposed to survive that?”
For a brief moment, Thalion almost felt bad when he saw the expression in Lyrian’s eyes.
Then he remembered the endless tunnels, the hunters, the impossible bosses, and the constant feeling of imminent death.
Any sympathy immediately vanished again.
“Ehh… Ehh…” Lyrian merely stammered in response.
Honestly, he looked like someone had just ripped his heart out.
“I actually think this was one of Lyrian’s better trials,” R-87 explained while casually eating another spoonful of cake. “And he does have a point. Right now you’re protected by your current level of power, but integrated space has no safety measures. If you’re unlucky enough to encounter a higher-grade enemy, experience with hopeless situations becomes very important.”
The rocky god suddenly brightened up.
“Oh! And you haven’t participated in one of my system events yet. I can already tell you that I cooked up a real masterpiece for this era. I’m very confident you’ll enjoy it.”
That statement immediately made Thalion reconsider whether joining one of R-87’s future system events would actually qualify as suicide.
The last event had already been far beyond “a little difficult,” and there was absolutely no telling what a mentally unstable elemental rock god considered entertaining.
Since Lyrian still looked emotionally devastated, Thalion decided it was probably wiser to let the rest of his complaints go for now.
Instead, the conversation gradually shifted toward stats, skills, and the system itself.
“I think the general opinion regarding stats is that they’re merely one variable among many,” Lyrian explained, clearly relieved to no longer discuss his trial.
“Very similar to body tempering. A high strength stat means you’re strong, yes, but there are countless other methods of increasing physical power that never appear in the status screen.”
The elf god leaned back thoughtfully.
“Personally, I believe it’s because the system itself is still incomplete in many aspects.”
He pointed upward dramatically.
“The best example would be boosting skills. Some directly state they increase your stats, yet the actual numbers in your status never change. Sometimes evolutions later compensate for it, but even that isn’t guaranteed.”
Lyrian shrugged lightly.
“So overall, you could say high stats are valuable… but far from everything.”
To Thalion, that explanation made perfect sense and matched much of what he had personally experienced.
Especially regarding outsiders.
It was honestly becoming increasingly tempting to ask the gods whether any of them had ever traveled beyond the system itself, but Thalion forced himself to remain silent.
Who knew what would happen if the Voice of the System discovered him openly discussing forbidden subjects?
The golden statue had already broken its own rules once, yet it had also specifically forbidden Thalion from revealing anything.
And right now things were actually going remarkably well for him.
Another system event victory.
A growing faction waiting for him back on New Earth.
Friends and allies he could potentially recruit permanently.
And, most importantly, a possible path toward learning more about outsiders once he secured the teleportation formations leading into integrated space.
The discussion between the four continued for quite a while afterward.
At one point R-87 passionately attempted to explain why all stats were secretly different forms of rocks before Lyrian finally interrupted him.
“I think time is running out,” the elf god announced. “It’s time to send Thalion back. I suppose I’ll see you in the next trial.”
Apparently they were already past the allowed time limit because Thalion didn’t even get the opportunity to say goodbye before the world around him twisted violently.
The next moment he reappeared exactly where he had originally entered the system event.
Ricarda and Pikar were already standing there mid-conversation.
Apparently time inside the gods’ domain had moved slightly differently, causing him to return a few seconds later than the others.
Not that it mattered much.
“Really? Place one thousand five hundred because we did exactly what the stupid creator of the trial wanted us to do?” Pikar ranted furiously before abruptly stopping when he noticed Thalion appear.
“Oh. Hey, Thalion.”
“Ricarda is currently relaying everything that happened during the event to her patron and the other gods of the faction,” Pikar explained with visible annoyance.
“I genuinely hope they somehow manage to give whoever created that trial the beating of his life.”
Thalion knew perfectly well that attacking Lyrian directly was impossible. The elf god worked for the System itself and was effectively untouchable.
Still, he had to admit he was very interested in hearing exactly how Ricarda planned to describe the event to the gods.
<--
The gods had their own problems to deal with as well.
Integrated space itself had undergone massive changes during the trial, and now even the transmissions was lagging.
Solan, Nyssa, and Ferniel currently sat within a massive chamber while watching the memories Ricarda continuously transmitted to her patron goddess.
The problem wasn’t that Ricarda sent the memories.
The problem was that she was clearly traumatized.
Every few seconds the transmission glitched as her emotions surged, causing the memory stream to violently jump to certain moments before snapping back again.
Unfortunately for the gods, those “certain moments” almost always involved the strongest E-grade Eclipsari they had ever seen brutally carving apart a screaming little girl.
It was obvious Ricarda was desperately trying to maintain control over the transmission, but the repeated emotional slips made the viewing experience incredibly unpleasant.
“Good gracious,” Solan groaned after enduring several minutes of it. “Could you perhaps tell your Chosen to breathe and focus for a moment? At this point she’s practically trying to tie my brain into a knot.”
Ferniel had become noticeably more confident around the older and vastly more powerful gods over the last months, though she was still far from calm herself.
Which probably didn’t help Ricarda in the slightest.
Watching the rest of the trial unfold turned into an outright horror show, and Solan honestly began feeling somewhat uneasy once he fully realized that Thalion was not merely an Eclipsari… but an absurdly powerful and equally insane one.
The sheer joy Thalion had displayed while torturing the corrupted girl was deeply concerning.
Then the leaderboard appeared.
And suddenly all of Solan’s concerns vanished.
Who cared if a few mortals died horribly?
Two hundred forty-five million points above the elven Chosen?
Now that was something he could work with. Most elven gods had already abandoned Solan.
The once-glorious cities surrounding the golden sun had largely turned into ghost towns.
Now nearly every elf gathered beneath Heliorax instead.
Solan had never liked that particular god.
The fact that Heliorax had ultimately become leader of the elven faction still felt like a dagger plunged directly into Solan’s chest.
The fellow was powerful, ruthless, and frighteningly competent.
Worst of all, Solan wasn’t even confident he could defeat him fairly anymore.
Especially since Heliorax’s bloodline had likely grown significantly stronger since their last direct confrontation.
Solan also hated the name.
Who in existence named their child something like Heliorax?
No wonder the idiot had a few screws loose.
Solan watched the leaderboard with growing satisfaction.
Naturally, this was merely one version of the second system event, and reports from countless other variants quickly arrived through divine communication channels.
At the moment it looked as though their mortal faction had thoroughly humiliated nearly every other major power in the new universe.
Over two hundred fifty million points ahead of everyone else. True, it was technically only Thalion carrying that achievement.
But who cared about the others? Only first place mattered.
And now Solan could finally begin applying pressure on the rival elven faction again.
They were currently attempting to form alliances with multiple powerful factions, but this result would undoubtedly complicate those negotiations considerably.
Of course, system-event performance alone wasn’t enough to determine divine alliances.
But if your mortals continuously got dominated in front of the entire universe, it was still an absolutely horrible look.
Especially because many gods possessed descendants themselves.
That meant factions needed strength across multiple grades, particularly for the truly difficult trials later on.
Losing your descendants over and over again in D-grade or C-grade events could eventually destroy even a god’s confidence in their own bloodline and path.
Some powerful gods might now even approach Solan directly and request Thalion’s assistance for their descendants in future special trials.
Naturally there still existed countless geniuses fully capable of matching or outright crushing Thalion at the moment.
But publicity mattered.
And right now Thalion’s fame had exploded beyond reason.
Solan’s own contacts had looked utterly bewildered when he recently instructed them to spread rumors about the “magnificent Thalion,” especially after those same contacts had spent months previously informing everyone that the human had supposedly died.
“One of his forms is a black-eyed Eclipsari,” Nyssa suddenly interrupted Solan’s thoughts. “Dear Solan… weren’t the Eclipsari asking you to send several of their descendants into the new universe?”
“Correct,” Solan replied coldly. “But once I lost leadership of the elven faction, they left me as well. Heliorax took over those negotiations.”
He snorted disdainfully.
“I heard they already held multiple meetings discussing how many Eclipsari descendants they should send into the new universe.”
A dangerous smile slowly spread across Solan’s lips.
“The idiot probably plans to throw enough of them at Thalion until one finally kills him.”
Nyssa tapped thoughtfully against the armrest of her throne.
“Maybe that won’t be such a bad thing,” she mused aloud.
“The Eclipsari only possess two descendants with black eyes, and both were pushed far too hard already. Sending either of them into the new universe should be impossible.”
A faint smile appeared on her face.
“And every other Eclipsari?”
Nyssa looked back toward the frozen image of Thalion smiling while drenched in black flames.
“They’ll probably just become food for the human.”