It took ten hours for Xavier to clear the extra waves that were on the planet. Once he could move through the void to hasten his travels around the planet, it became easier and easier to wipe them out. More waves kept teleporting down, but he dealt with them far faster than they appeared.
His little band of mind-controlled A Grade captains was slowly growing as well. He’d gained a few levels and been able to put some more attribute points into his Willpower stat. He’d also spent a bit of time strengthening his mind. Whenever he gained a level, he found that he could push a little more Refined Celestial Energy through his body. He’d hit a hard limit back when he’d been training with the others, trying as hard as he could to strengthen every inch of himself, a part of him thinking that he could just go on doing it forever.
That hadn’t been the case, but he had soon discovered, once he’d finally started gaining some levels on this floor, that once he did gain a level, he could refine his body, mind, and soul that little bit more. Somehow, he was restricted from doing that until those levels came. He wasn’t sure if that was something that the System had done, or if it was simply a limitation in his physiology that the level helped unlock.
Either way, he was glad for any extra gain in strength that he could manage.
Once Xavier had dealt with the final living wave—a full minute before the next one would arrive—he took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and gazed up at the armada above the planet.
Finally, he’d caught of on the waves. Finally, he could actually take a moment to take a breath. Without Void Wanderer and Locate Space allowing him to travel around the planet so quickly, he never would have been able to catch up.
Even then, catching up had taken its toll. In order to clear the waves faster than they appeared, he’d needed to use a little more Soul Energy and Reality Energy than he would have liked. It wasn’t as though he could retreat into a time dilation field to recover—he was already in a time dilation field.
It reminded him of the good old days, back when he fought the waves of the Endless Horde.
But the last wave had finally been cleared, and while he only had a minute to rest, a minute felt like a hell of a long time after all he’d just done. He should be able to recover a small amount of Reality Energy and Soul Energy in that time…
From where he stood, he couldn’t actually see the armada except for with The All-Seeing Eye. They were currently in orbit on the other side of Galadsea. Still, he imagined staring up at the ships as a thought entered his mind—one that had been constantly entering his mind since the very first wave.
Where the hell were the A Grade Champion parties? And when were they going to make their entrance?
Why wait so long?
~
Hahln Gallot stood in one of the Empire of Servitude’s ships, hands crossed behind his back, staring through the viewing screen down at the planet.
He’d seen this planet before, in the memories of the Champions who’d already cleared it. He’d watched thousands of different A Grade Champions clear this floor with ease. It wasn’t that it was necessarily easy. There were pitfalls one could fall into. Many a Champion had died on this floor because they’d grown complacent, just as many a Champion had died on every floor.
But it was, admittedly, one of the easiest floors in the entire tower to clear. Usually, the only challenge came when a Champion party were wanting to defeat a record—but Hahln wasn’t concerned with defeating records. Especially not anymore, now that the System had so abruptly changed the rules on everyone.
No, this floor should have been a breeze. In fact, he should have completed it by now. Never before had he ever heard of the waves taking this long to take over the planet below.
Then again, never before had he heard of a Champion siding with Galadsea. And this Champion was one he’d heard of before. Perhaps that shouldn’t have been a surprise. There were many lower grades out there that seemed to think every A Grade knew every other A Grade, as though they were a part of a club.
They were not a part of a club.
At least, if they were, it wasn’t one Hahln or his fellow party members had been invited to.
Hahln released a low growl in his throat. His wings twitched, spread out wide behind him. The A Grade captain of this ship gave him a wide berth whenever his wings were fully extended, thus Hahln’s wings were almost always fully extended. The last thing he could tolerate while he was deep in thought was an interruption. The A Grade captain had already experienced this and wasn’t apt to make the same mistake twice.
If it hadn’t gone against the goal of the floor, Hahln would have murdered the man on the spot.
Hahln was a dragonkin. And not just any dragonkin. He was the purest of pure blood dragonkin, a part of a dynasty that stretched all the way back to the moment the System had first come for his people.
Lesser informed beings might believe that all dragonkin stretched back that far. Hahln bared his teeth just thinking about it.
But no—there were imposters. Denizens out there who had become cheap imitations of dragonkin. Once they had been human, or elven, even dwarven—Hahln spat on the ground—then they’d become dragonkin themselves.
Changed by the traitorous System.
Dragonkin, the pure dragonkin that were his sect, were one of the few races out there in the Greater Universe who had an aversion to the System and what it did, an open aversion.
They had no problem with the conflict—it was other parts they had problems with.
Like sovereignty over their own autonomy. And above that, the purity of their race.
There were dragonkin out there who’d bred with these imposters the System had created. There were whole worlds that had been infected by them, where half-breeds were not killed nor even hunted, where the imposters were accepted.
Filth. The lot of them.
These were planets his sect was actively trying to exterminate, but as the less pure dragonkin were significantly less isolationist than his own people, they’d been able to garner alliances and gain protections from other species of Denizens.
Cowards can’t even protect themselves.
Then, Hahln had heard about Xavier Collins. A human-turned-dragonkin. An imposter.
A powerful one.
Never in his wildest dreams had Hahln imagined he would end up on the same Tower of Champions’ floor as this man, especially since, last he’d heard, the imposter was only C Grade—even if he was a C Grade punching far above his weight.
After observing what was happening down on the planet for so long, Hahln couldn’t help but wonder if that information had been incorrect. There was simply no way a C Grade could manage any of what this so-called dragonkin was able to manage.
Watching him fight, a traitorous part of him wished this Xavier Collins was a pure-blood dragonkin. He would have no choice but to welcome him with open arms into his sect. With that kind of power, dragonkins could finally gain the respect that they deserved in the Greater Universe.
Maybe I can harness his power. Steal it. Whatever tricks this imposter has learnt could surely be learnt even more easily by a true, untainted dragonkin.
And it was more than just the fighting on the planet. Before Hahln had even chosen which side to fight for, Xavier Collins had taken out a thousand of the enemy ships.
His time dilation field. He has a way to cooldown his spells even inside it. And he seems to have an unending number of spells. There doesn’t appear to be anything he can’t do. The man’s a monster.
Hahln suppressed a shudder. Fear bubbled up inside him. But dragonkin were not ones to give into their fear. Not true dragonkin, anyway. His path had been set the moment he realised Xavier Collins was on this floor. Even if the Champion had chosen to fight for the Empire of Servitude alongside Hahln and his party, the choice would have been clear.
The imposter must die.
But maybe I can capture him first. Learn his ways…
As much as Hahln hated working with those outside his sect—and especially those outside his species—such a thing had become necessary. That was why none of the Champions had arrived on the planet yet.
He was keeping them at bay, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. Waiting for their enemy to be weakened enough before entering the fight.
He’d thought it would only take a few waves. A dozen, at a stretch. Then, when Xavier had locked himself in that Time Prison, and the waves had accumulated across the planet, he’d thought surely the time would come soon.
But the man hadn’t become vulnerable. He’d just kept adapting. And now all the excess waves had been cleared. Xavier Collins was back to facing the waves one at a time.
I should have acted before. I shouldn’t have waited so long.
But he wondered if that would have helped. Wondered if there was even a chance that he would be able to defeat this enemy. As much as he wasn’t about to give into his fear, that didn’t mean he was a fool. He wasn’t going to walk into a fight with someone he had no confidence whatsoever in defeating.
There was a noise behind him. The scuff of a boot. An intentional sound to politely grab his attention. Seaina could be silent as a ghost, after all.
Hahln tilted his chin up but didn’t turn to face his second. “What?”
“The other Champions grow restless.” Seaina was his voice, the one who talked to the other Champions who’d arrived on this floor. He wouldn’t sully himself by stooping that low.
“You have told me this before.” He clicked his tongue. “Is there a reason you repeat yourself?”
“If you wait any longer, they’ll move without us.”
Hahln turned, wings fluttering as he did. His claws elongated. “They wouldn’t dare!”
Seaina didn’t so much as flinch at his angry display. He would have been disappointed if she had.
“We are not the ultimate power here. They were willing to listen to you, as you are the most powerful Champion on this floor, but their patience has limits.”
Hahln ground his teeth. Most powerful Champion on this floor. She’d said the words with confidence, yet they both knew that wasn’t wholly true, and that was even without considering Xavier Collins. This floor had attracted a great many powerful A Grades, but the pride of a true dragonkin made it impossible for either of them to admit that.
If we move now, we might fail, Hahln almost said, but to do so would show his fear.
It was better to fight and fail, than cower in the ships for much longer. Yes, there were still many, many waves until the Empire of Servitude’s army was anywhere near being extinguished, but never had the Champions of this floor—not in any account he’d heard or experienced—ever taken this long to teleport down to the planet and enter the fight.
“The longer we wait…” Seaina trailed off.
Hahln faced the viewing screen once more. He couldn’t currently see where the imposter dragonkin was. The man had an incredibly powerful concealment. But he could see the damage Xavier Collins inflicted. The death and destruction. Even as they spoke, he was obliterating an entire wave, defeating every one of the Empire of Servitude’s soldiers, along with the A Grade captain, in less than a minute.
Hahln and his entire party wouldn’t be able to manage that.
“The stronger he becomes,” Hahln spat back.
It was the opposite of what everyone had expected. They’d thought they could just wait it out. That eventually, the man would run out of steam. They were all inside a time dilation field!
How could his spells never become exhausted? How could his power continue to grow?
“We might have to do it.”
Seaina was really speaking her mind now.
Hahln growled low in his throat, but he did not protest the woman’s words.
“The transformation might be the only way,” the woman continued. “Even if…”
Even if there’s no coming back from it.
It was a cost all dragonkin wondered if they would one day pay, and one most—if not all—secretly hoped they never would. A legacy power, something that had belonged to them long before the System came, and if the System disappeared, it would belong to them still. A power, deeply ingrained in their bodies.
Something an imposter dragonkin would know nothing about.
Only purebloods had this power.
Only they could take advantage of it.
Hahln released a sharp breath from his nose. Two trails of smoke snaked outward. “Have you spoken to the others? If it comes to this, are they ready?”
“They were born ready.”
Hahln inclined his head. “Give the order. We make for the planet. Every party. All at once. To descend upon the imposter dragonkin. Maybe if we overwhelm him…”
Seaina did not stop to mention that it wasn’t an order, so much as a suggestion. Hahln might have ripped her head off if she did—figuratively speaking, of course, in this day and age.
Seaina walked away, her boots not making a single sound.
He shut his eyes.
The transformation…
There were no other dragonkin parties on this floor. No true beings to stand witness to what they may have to do, if things came to it. And he supposed that wouldn’t matter if they lost.
And if they won? Well, they could tell the story themselves.
Assuming their minds were still intact afterward.