Lissia sat before a screen, in her office way past her working hours as she reviewed the footage for the umpteenth time. Her finger pressed upon the panel, looping the same few scenes over and over.
Despite having seen it countless times, she could still barely believe it.
It wasn’t the power. Many in the empire had power. Power, she could understand. What escaped her was how the young man used it.
Ferocity. Determination. A willingness to take any trade if it meant coming out on top, without a single shred of hesitation. And skill. A raw, formless skill that felt like it would require decades of experience to acquire. What she saw before her was no fighter. It was a machine for killing, tuned through real action and honed at the very edge of life and death.
Freddy Stern was an anomaly.
Had Lady Narcisse Morleppe not personally vouched for his identity, Lissia would have refused to accept that he had been born a mere 25 years ago. With his talent, he could live forever without aging a day, so it wouldn’t be too far fetched for him to be a regressed four- or even five-star who had severed back at the beginning to give ascension another go.
Everything from the way he moved to the way his abilities worked simply defied common sense. But maybe that was why he was so powerful to begin with. Common sense wasn’t the best way forward for someone whose powers transcended common means.
Had he been put through any sort of education, it was likely that he would have been stuffed into a box with his thinking, and he never would have embraced his strengths so whole-heartedly.
Lissia looped the part where he accepted the bolt to the chest once more. The way his awakened soul construct-empowered sword screeched never failed to send chills down her spine. And the swing… the power behind that blow was something even a four-star couldn’t take lightly.
And yet, it wasn’t even the greatest attack he used in the fight.
She forwarded the footage.
The part where he charged at the ranger played out.
The timing with which he deflected the bolt was hard to believe. It was even more difficult to accept that he didn’t even flinch at having his eye blown out of his socket. And that kick…
It was empowered by the soul-construct, sure, but it was still nothing but a kick. No ability, no talent to back it, no equipment but a regular pair of shoes on his feet.
And it was precise and strong enough to instantly kill a high-level three-star.
An archhuman’s body grew more durable the higher up they progressed. And the nervous system grew disproportionately durable, far outpacing the growth of all other tissue. A strike to the chin was dangerous since it caused a great deal of torque on the brain, which could easily knock someone out, or even kill them.
But a high-level three-star’s brain wasn’t so fragile. It shouldn’t be. The dolls were tuned to closely resemble an average high-level three-star’s physique.
For a two-star without a physique-empowering talent to use an ability-free kick to kill a high-level three-star… The precision and power required was simply unbelievable.
She released a breath as she leaned back in her chair, the footage looping the kick over and over.
As a four-star, Lissia didn’t fear any two-star in a direct fight. Logic dictated that she had no reason to.
Oh, there were some who could certainly kill her if she was caught off-guard, but those were rare exceptions and unrealistic scenarios, usually involving the use of pricey spirit abilities.
Even against Freddy Stern, she would win.
But she could imagine losing.
If she fought on a bad day, in the wrong environment, and made a wrong move or two… There was a chance she could theoretically lose. It was not even a one percent chance, but the fact that a peak two-star could realistically come out on top against a high adjudicator—a Lord-level powerhouse—was simply absurd.
She had no doubt that he had contributed massively to the fight against Nahar, and had vouched as such. With the reward they had granted him, there was no doubt that he would break through the triple block if it was at all possible.
But while she had vouched for his prowess, she hadn’t shared this footage with anyone.
Lissia gulped heavily as her eyes drifted to a stand in the corner of her office.
When members of the imperial hierarchy reached a certain level, they got a chance to contact… her. It was not a privilege to be used lightly. But if one truly believed they had something worth her time, using it could be a ticket to a great reward.
Lissia yet again looked at the footage, and the immense talent Freddy Stern showcased in his evaluation.
This was an Overlord candidate. Without a doubt.
“I’m gonna do it,” she said as she grabbed the recording crystal and headed to the stand in the corner of the room, slotting it in, and sending it away.
***
“Honey, I’m home!” Freddy jokingly shouted into the empty space of his apartment. He threw his shoes off in a swift motion and then marched over to the living room, where he promptly crashed into the couch with the solidity and vigor of a wet sock. “I really gotta stop getting my ass sent to jail.”
It had been an exhausting two weeks, with the finale sapping what little spirit he had left.
The woman’s face was permanently frozen in an unimpressed expression, so Freddy wasn’t exactly sure how impressed the judge had been when he beat those puppets. But he’d clearly demonstrated beyond reasonable doubt that he was more than capable of kicking ass well above his level, given what happened afterwards.
He slowly dragged himself back to his feet, a profound weakness washing over him. Slowly, he made his way over to the window wall of his apartment, watching over the city of Starhold.
It was nighttime, with the customary flashing lights dominating the cityscape, be it below or above him. Especially above him. With each passing day, more and more floating properties got built up in the sky above the city, below the dome. If they kept going at this pace, there would come a day when the false sunlight no longer reached the ground.
His eyes drifted down, not to the city below, but the dome on the border of the city. There was a patch of flashing lights that didn’t look quite as fun as the ones surrounding it.
Freddy's expression darkened as he spotted a massive gash in the dome on the other end of the city, buildings leveled around it. There were countless lights sparkling as numerous workers combed through the rubble, either searching for survivors or fixing the damage.
Starhold got attacked on a practically daily basis. It was somewhat rare for the city to suffer this much damage in an attack, but it wasn’t unheard of. Usually, the empress took care of anything big enough to cause this sort of harm, but there were moments where more than one large threat appeared at once. This had likely been one such case.
Freddy sighed, his fatigue aching something fierce. There were countless four-stars in Starhold. And yet, its safety ultimately rested on the shoulders of a handful of five-stars.
It was no wonder that the Starhold Expansion Project was doing so bloody poorly. Without five-stars at the head, how could a settlement possibly protect itself from something capable of causing that much damage?
There were methods, of course. Large groups of fighters with the right kinds of powers, sophisticated traps, expensive weapons, and so on. But the cost and logistical challenges were massive. Meanwhile, a five-star just had to walk up and kill whatever was causing trouble. There was nothing more reliable than the sheer power of an individual.
Freddy turned back, leaning against the window as he pulled a cigarette out of his storage ring. He tried his best not to think about what else was in there.
Earlier that day, he had finally gone on trial to settle the dispute around his merit in taking down Nahar. They had concluded that he was indeed capable of significant contribution.
He extracted his shiny new special-rank badge from his storage ring. It depicted him standing before Nahar—stylized, of course—in shiny white metal, a large S engraved at the bottom. It was a special-ranked Guardian medal, granted for impressive feats of fighting back against superior forces. The medal itself wasn’t just for the fight against Nahar, but for the defense of Repentawa in general.
That wasn’t the only badge he was given, actually. He had also earned a special-ranked Entrepreneur badge, apparently, and he just never realized since he hadn’t visited the bank. Earning like a bajillion dollars as an independent two-star was pretty impressive, it seemed. Who would have thought?
The audit also turned up a badge that he was supposed to get had it not been lost in the mess of Starhold bureaucracy: a fourth-ranked Adventurer badge, granted for delving and completing over 150 unique dungeons.
With his collection of achievements fully accounted for, they had also delivered on their promise. 560 elite project managers and over ten thousand workers would be sent to the Northern Belt, spearheading the development of the region from every angle imaginable.
Admittedly, given the apparent magnitude of all that he’d achieved, Freddy felt mildly disappointed that this was all that they would do, but once they explained in greater detail what this meant, he understood that this would be no small aid package.
Elite project managers were seniors who would be desired even by top companies, and the thousands of workers would be two-stars, at the very least. These people would develop infrastructure and train new workers in the Northern Belt, kickstarting the process of turning the region into a proper barrier against the Frozen Wastes.
On top of the workers, the empire would also dispatch 70 watchdogs to help weed out the criminal underground. Imperial watchdogs were basically just the three-star equivalent of the four-star imperial adjudicator. In a region like the Northern Belt, where four-stars weren’t allowed to reside, they would make for an incredibly efficient and lethal anti-crime force.
The Northern Belt was about to change. The people there had been toughened by the invasion. With the new wave of support from the empire, they would flourish.
But more than the help the empire was sending, it was the message that would be the true herald of change. The people would notice where the wind was blowing, and with the empire’s changing stance on the Northern Belt, there would no doubt be an influx of outside forces looking to settle.
Freddy couldn’t help but smile. “I wonder what that old fart would say if he saw all this…?”
His eyes drifted back to his storage ring. The bloody thing felt like it was burning hot on his finger, and he couldn’t help but gulp nervously as he slowly sank his attention into it.
The stuff with the Northern Belt was only part of the reward. Freddy had been promised a reward for his contribution against Nahar, and after proving himself, he’d gotten quite the reward, indeed.
Tucked deep in a corner where he would be least likely to take it out by accident was a small, sealed black box. Inside it, a shimmering white orb the size of a knuckle radiated endless power, enough that it would alert the entire neighborhood if he took it out.
It was a nameless pill of a secret origin.
An ascension elixir.
A true ascension elixir.
Stuff like the starfire mirror rose was already priceless, but it was basically just the equivalent of blowing hot air into a soul to make it expand. The latent aura it provided was blank, and it behaved as little more than energy to help push one’s growth along. Those who relied on such methods to go up a star usually faced pretty underwhelming results—there were even reports of extreme cases where one’s talent downgraded from elixir overuse.
The thing resting in Freddy’s storage ring was different. It wouldn’t just push him further along to ascension—it would also amplify the power of his evolution. He had been explicitly instructed to never take it out of his storage ring unless he was about to eat it and promptly ascend, and even then, he should preferably do it inside an instance dungeon where he was positive that nobody else was nearby.
This item was far too valuable to risk it being stolen.
The empire had gone above and beyond to push him to break through the triple block.
Of course, he didn’t actually need it. He could ascend as soon as he was done healing his soul. But he would be damned if he said no to a little extra juice, so he had kept his mouth shut and smiled as he received something almost anyone would be willing to kill him for.
As he finished a cigarette, he couldn’t help but look back out at the city. His eyes once more drifted up, all the way to the countless islands of super elites having their fun in the skies above.
Freddy could afford one of those properties. Kind of. They started at about 50 billion on the low end, but those were positively tiny, barely able to hold a small house on them. It just wasn’t worth it. He had better things to buy with his money.
And yet, it irked him for some reason.
He turned his gaze away, looking at the carpet flooring of his apartment instead.
There were days when Freddy couldn’t help but wonder what it was that drove him forward. Sure, he had things he wanted, and power was the only way to get them.
But didn’t that hold true for everyone?
The average person simply wanted comfort, a bit of luxury, and some respect. That was what the vast majority of archhumans fought for. And once they got to a point where they could live comfortably, afford some luxury, and get respect from others, their drive tended to evaporate, and their risk tolerance went way down.
Why hadn’t the same thing happened to him?
Back when he first became an archhuman, all he wanted was to get rich enough to enjoy his life and help others on the side. And frankly, he hadn’t even really been all that obsessed with the idea of helping others.
In hindsight, he could see some things a bit more clearly. He cared a little less about luxury, and a bit more about helping others. Somewhere deep down, there was something of a hero in the mass of “raging asshole” he embodied most of the time.
But none of that, not one thing, justified the sheer lengths he went to. He did things nobody sane would even consider doing.
A loud sound coming from the hallway tore his attention away. It sounded of metal being bent out of shape and concrete crushed to pieces. “What the…?” He rushed to his feet, essence ready to trigger the ring as he stayed close to the window, ready to break it and jump out.
Someone had just broken straight through his front doors.
Heavy footsteps made their way through the hallway.
Freddy gulped.
It wasn’t that he felt any sort of power. No, he felt nothing. Not even from his insanity sense. Whoever was coming, they had no doubt that they were doing anything out of the ordinary—or even mildly dangerous.
Just as he was about to break the window and run for it, a towering figure walked through the entryway, her large frame turning to face him.
She stood at over two meters tall, clad in a bright platinum suit covered by a black cape embroidered with imperial insignia. Her long, plain brown hair, covered by a military-style peaked cap, spread down across her broad back. Her face was that of a half-Asian woman, chiseled and hard, with lines so sharp she could cut diamonds with her jawline.
Her eyes were slitted so tight that they barely looked open, and her mouth spread wide open in a glorious grin. “Oh, you’re home? Sorry for the sudden intrusion, I was just curious to see the man who got the overpearl as a reward.”
Freddy’s face paled as hurried to take a knee. “Empress Kaiya…”