An hour later he came out of his room half-awake, feet bare on the floor, shoulders still heavy with sleep. Tomas was gone. The house was empty. He reached for the delivery drop. The panel slid open at his touch. Inside sat a small box, light enough to lift with one hand.
He tore the paper seam with his thumb and tipped the contents into his palm. Brass spectacles. Cool. Heavier than they looked.
In the mirror, he settled them onto his nose. Round lenses. Thin wire frames that curved tight behind his ears. Old enough to belong.
A smile crept in.
He shoved his curls back and leaned closer to the glass. His gaze locked in. Green. Sharp. He pulled in his cheeks, set his jaw, held still. Tried on seriousness. It didn’t hold. A short laugh slipped out.
The scan and connect took a minute. He waited through the boot, the installs, the quiet progress bars. When his apps were in place and his music finished loading, he reached for the rest of his gear.
One more daily pass.
Thursday, Challenge Four, Day 3, 3:12 PM.
Start of second run.
Objective is to clear the remaining lakebed grooves, then attempt to isolate the time differential once fully accelerated.
I should have enough time inside to settle on a clear plan for how to exploit this challenge.
Thursday, Challenge Four, Day 3, 3:23 PM.
Clearing both grooves took the full duration. The longer, straighter groove required most of the effort, so I handled it first. The shorter, angled groove took four days once I shifted focus.
Twelve days inside, thirteen minutes outside.
Acceleration is still difficult to measure due to variability in the sphere’s position over extended runs. Next run I’ll stay for exactly one day. That should give a cleaner comparison at maximum speed, even if it’s only relative. I still can’t determine the length of a full day-night cycle. Subjectively, it feels shorter than twenty-four hours.
Still unsure what the second sphere does. On the bent line the sphere always comes to rest at the bend. You can push it up either left or right, but letting go and the sphere rolls back to the middle. More testing needed.
Spending twelve days inside clarified several things.
Essence accumulation will not be a limiting factor. I could feel steady passive buildup across the duration. Based on that rate, I was already over halfway to level five before merging potions up to level four.
That was my only merge goal for this run. Now I’ll shift to selling level four potions.
As long as I’m willing to remain in Challenge Four for extended periods, I should be able to perform merges without restriction. The open question is whether leveling up inside the challenge would trigger ejection. Rough estimates suggest I could accumulate enough essence to level in around twenty days. That would make it feasible for the next run, but I won’t attempt it yet. Being forced out before securing useful skills or titles would waste this challenge.
Swimming reached level seven. I also acquired Freediving. Neither is likely to matter going forward.
I’m not pursuing skills for their own sake. That path creates the illusion of progress without delivering real capability. A high swimming or climbing skill won’t matter in a duel.
I spent days thinking about what to do with this level. How to make the most of it. Pressure. That’s what this level is. Pressure. It’s too open-ended. Too many possibilities. I can do anything. It’s paralyzing.
So instead of letting this level break me mentally and force me to focus I’ve decided to take a different route.
My biggest advantage has become clear over the first few challenges. Merge. I wasn’t sure about it at first. But it breaks normal rules. I need to master it. But that's not all I am. There’s so much about how this world works and how merge works that I don’t know.
This challenge is the best chance I’ll get to figure stuff out. Experiments. With all this time I’ll finally be able to explore some of the things I haven’t had time to. I’ll finally get to go through all my journals and run all the experiments.
If I find anything promising I’ll pursue that. I’ve got plenty of time and plenty of whatever resource I need.
I think this will work out just fine for me. Glad I’m not with anyone else. Wouldn’t be free to pursue my interests.
My biggest concern is stats.
I’ll try upleveling and merging the Elixir and see if that work. We’ll see.
Food is becoming an issue. I need something other than hard-tack and smoked meat.
Overall assessment: Challenge Four remains highly favorable.
Stepping into the locker with his arms full, Rem set the duplication crate down carefully. Metal rang once, then settled. He was halfway out of his cold-weather gear when a cheerful voice echoed through the space.
“You’re back, sir,” Iru said. The amber eye turned and fixed on him. “I have a number of negotiated rewards for you. Sending the notices now.”
Rem had just shrugged his heavy coat off his shoulders when the first system message appeared.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Your kindness in providing the people of Madarox Outpost a momentary respite has been noticed by The Amarein Chorus, The Seluntha Concord, and Vorathi Observants. They have collaborated to reward you. This reward is offered without conditions.
You have received your first legendary reward.
A box shimmered into existence on the rewards bench. Inspect.
Ring of Pane
Level 5
Grade: Legendary
Traits: Unique. Paronomastic. Concealed.
Reach through a previously created pane to access the space beyond it. This item is balanced by its paronomastic trait.
Rem stepped over and opened the box. Inside lay a plain band of dark metal. More silver than gold. Dull, almost worn-looking, as if it had been handled for years. It didn’t draw the eye.
“A reward without strings,” Rem said. “What’s the catch?”
He slid the ring onto his index finger. It tightened immediately, a brief pinch of pressure, then settled flush against his skin.
“I can’t say, sir,” Iru replied, swiveling slightly.
Another message cut in.
The Rodthi Conglomerate has witnessed your achievements and offers a reward of essence. This reward is offered without conditions.
The essence hit him before he finished reading.
His breath caught hard in his chest. Not pain — pressure. Sudden, dense, filling every gap at once. His skin prickled, then went cold. His heart thudded unevenly, each beat heavier than the last.
“No—” Rem snapped, already moving.
His eyes flicked around the locker. Bench. Shelf. Anything. He grabbed two cores without checking what they were and tore open his merge domain.
Too slow.
The pressure surged outward. Cold drove down his arms, into his legs, along his spine. His knees bent under him. His jaw locked, teeth grinding as his hands went numb. For a moment, he couldn’t feel where his body ended.
Then it locked into place.
Something inside him shifted. Not added — rearranged. Space claimed without permission.
He knew before the confirmation arrived.
He’d leveled.
“Stop the rewards!” Rem shouted.
The words cracked off the walls and came back at him flat and sharp.
He yanked up his status screen.
Name: Rembrandt de Vries
Level: 5 (0/1600 XP)
Class: Error, No Class
Passes: 0
Five.
“I just leveled to five,” Rem said. His voice came out low and tight.
“Congratulations, sir,” Iru replied.
Rem turned on the spot. “What do you mean, congratulations? I was maximizing Challenge Four. That was the whole point. How am I supposed to do that now?”
He crossed the locker in long strides and slammed his hand onto the destination glyph.
Select Destination
- Alchemy Workshop
- Babylon
- Oldetown (origin)
- Babylon
No challenge destination.
No passes. He couldn’t verify he’d outleveled it until tomorrow.
“Someone just dumped enough essence on me to outlevel the challenge,” Rem said. “Are they trying to mess me up?”
“Determining a benefactor’s motivations is beyond the scope of my functions, sir,” Iru replied. “I only assess whether a reward may be beneficial.”
“Do I have any other essence rewards pending?”
Rem dropped onto the locker floor, his back against the wall, boots planted wide.
“Yes, sir. Essence is a popular reward for early ascenders.”
“I don’t want them,” Rem said immediately. “I’m not rushing my early levels. Hold all essence rewards until I tell you otherwise. Anything else?”
“Several factions have sent communication devices so you may contact them.”
“Refuse all of those,” Rem said. “Anything that can track me, identify me, or put me on a leash — get rid of it.”
His gaze dropped to the ring on his finger. Dark. Quiet.
“This thing has a unique trait,” he said. “That a problem?”
“Only if you trade or sell it,” Iru replied. “If it appears on a market, its location could be inferred within a general area.”
Rem exhaled through his nose.
“Then eliminate anything else that can identify me, and pause anything with conditions. What’s left?”
“Only the essence rewards, sir.”
Rem pushed himself up and paced the length of the locker. Wall to bench. Turn. Back. His boots scuffed the floor, the sound sharp in the small space.
Level five.
He stopped. Stood still. Drew in a breath and let it out slow. The pressure from the essence was gone, but the feel of it wasn’t. He could feel himself larger. Expansive. Space that hadn’t been there before. Space he hadn’t chosen.
“No,” he said quietly.
The amber eye tracked him. It didn’t speak.
Rem rolled his shoulders once, then again. His gaze moved to the shelves lining the locker. Cores. Components. Raw material. Things meant to be spent.
Leveling was supposed to be deliberate. Timed. Controlled. He’d planned around it. Built everything around it. This wasn’t growth. This was being pushed.
He ignored it and pulled two level four cores from the shelf, setting them on the bench with care.
“I’m not adapting to this,” Rem muttered, and opened his merge domain.
The first merge went clean. Familiar compression. Release. Essence drained without resistance.
He didn’t stop.
Another pair. Then another. He worked in a steady rhythm, feeding the domain whatever would take. With each merge, something inside him thinned. Not pain—absence. A pressure behind his eyes that grew sharper the longer he went. He felt empty. He pressed on.
Rem wiped his nose with the back of his hand. Wet. He glanced down. Blood streaked across his skin.
He kept going.
The locker went quiet except for his breathing and the low hum of the domain. His hands started to shake as the merges slowed. Essence didn’t want to move now. Each pull dragged. He pulled open his journal, jotting notes down, marking the experience. Blood splattered against the pages as he leaned over paper.
His ears rang, a tight, high sound that didn’t fade. He tasted iron when he breathed.
He pulled another set of cores and kept merging.
He braced himself on the bench, shoulders hunched, breath coming in short pulls. Blood ran freely now, dripping from his nose to the floor.
Still level five.
A short, broken laugh tore out of him.
“Already am,” Rem said, and grabbed two more cores.
The domain resisted as he forced it open again. This wasn’t pressure anymore. It was friction. His vision narrowed. The world dimmed at the edges.
The merge finished.
His legs gave out. He dropped to one knee, one hand slapping the floor to keep from falling. His stomach clenched. He gagged, sharp and dry.
This was the bottom. He knew it without checking. No reserve. No buffer. Just emptiness.
Rem shook his head once, slow and deliberate.
“No.”
He reached again.
The domain flickered, thin and unstable.
“I know.”
He forced essence into a space that had none.
Pain detonated behind his eyes. His vision went white, then dark. Something burst wet and hot. Blood flooded his ears. His scream ripped out of him before he could stop it.
The merge tore itself together.
The domain collapsed.
Rem hit the floor on his side and lay there, gasping, fingers clawing weakly at the metal. Blood spread beneath his face, warm and slick.
Time passed without shape.
When the ringing in his ears finally thinned enough for thought to return, he dragged up his status screen with a trembling hand.
Level: 4.
He sagged and let out a breath that turned into a cough. His body shook hard, every muscle hollowed out and raw.
Worth it.
He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, chest heaving, eyes burning. The pain settled into something dull and survivable.
When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse and thin.
“Iru,” Rem said. “Never do that again.”
Rem closed his eyes. The room went black around him.