Chương 37: Winds of Change

On World Ranked 31, Corel rode through the Ageless Moss Vale, the steady rhythm of her mount's hooves echoing against the quiet valley. The southern lands had once belonged to her family before the arrival of the system and Multiversal Integration. Now, they were little more than a painful reminder of all she had lost. She despised this new path her life had taken. Her father, her brothers, gone. Taken from her so cruelly.

It had all begun with the Tutorial Gates, the defining moment of their World's journey towards Integration. At first, everything had gone smoothly. Her Clan had been the first to clear their Gate, and Valedra, her brother, had even claimed the top spot on the tutorial leaderboard. Their success had elevated Clan Relashra to prominence. They went on to clear fifteen Tutorial Gates, leading their world in dominance. By the end, five of their Clan members occupied the top ten ranking spots.

Valedra, as the top-ranked individual, had been given the first choice when the mentor system began. Their world had received only one C-grade mentor, and her brother had claimed him. From there, his dominance never wavered. For over a year, he remained the highest-ranked individual on the planet, the first to reach level one hundred, the first to attain E-grade. Their world had soared to eleventh in the multiversal rankings, on the brink of breaking into the top ten.

They had only needed to maintain their momentum. Then disaster struck. Three months ago, her brother had been competing in a routine Multiversal team event, a standard competition for acquiring points. But unknown to him, they had been marked. Three of the top ten ranked Worlds had conspired against them, setting a carefully planned ambush. In a single day, her brother, his entire team, and every individual within their World's top twenty had been slaughtered. That loss had set off a devastating chain reaction.

With the Clan's strongest gone, rival Clans descended upon them, seeking to claim whatever power remained. Her parents had been among the first to die. One by one, her people fell. Now, she was all that remained of Clan Relashra's main family. She should have died with them, and she would have, if not for one Voldura, Pathfinder, the new mysterious head of Clan Ghoyusiffiy. His Clan had been unknown until one month after her brother and Clanmates perished.

But now, the Ghoyusiffiy ruled their World with an iron fist, claiming all Gates and deciding who could enter and level up. Pathfinder himself had reached level one hundred and twenty-five, an impossible feat she had thought. Internally, she questioned his sudden appearance and subsequent power grab. Who was he really? What was also equally as shocking was that he had a close contingent of Voldura, all of whom had surpassed level one hundred and twenty. They had all overcome the Profession bottleneck.

She questioned everything about his existence and his rise to power. But there was nothing she could do alone. She cursed them and everything they stood for. She cursed her wretched luck because the only reason she was still alive was because of Pathfinder. He had set his sights on her. He wanted her chained to him in a rite of bonds, a ceremony that would tie her to his side for life. The thought made her stomach churn.

"Gate sighted!" A voice to her left drew her from her depressing thoughts. Gef'genny, her unwanted companion, was a head shorter than her, bearing their race's customary green skin and purple hair of the Voldura. Two dark brown horns curled from his forehead, a common trait among their people. Corel, however, was slightly different. She possessed a few peculiar rarities for her race that set her apart. Sparkling purple eyes and a birthmark covering her entire back. She was also unusually tall for a female Voldura.

Her athletic build and overly curvaceous body had been nothing but an annoyance to her. Garnering much unwanted attention from males who sought her favour. That was no longer a problem since she had been claimed by Pathfinder, which in itself was the worst possible outcome. She did take pride in her eyes, though. The Voldura had an ancient tale about the arrival of the purple-eyed seeker. A mere folktale, a story passed down through generations to lull children to sleep.

But when the system arrived, Corel had been bestowed the Class 'Seeker'. Very few remembered the old tale. Unfortunately for her, Pathfinder did. And now, he had decided to interject himself into her life. She had, of course, refused him. He had slaughtered so many of her people, crushed entire families, and forced her into servitude. She had reached her breaking point, teetering on the edge of despair, ready to submit and just bring an end to these months of pain, when a new quest screen appeared before her.

System Message You have been given a new quest! He Who Comes: This is an event quest. A being of unknown origin will arrive on your world in two hundred and forty Multiversal days. He will herald a change that will affect everyone. As the Seeker, you have been tasked with guiding the being of unknown origin. Only you can prevent the destruction of your race. Guide the being of unknown origin to lead your people to greatness, or fail and watch as your entire world is annihilated. This is a mandatory event quest.

Good Luck. The moment she read it, everything changed. She had been ready to surrender, but fate had intervened, reigniting her will to fight. This quest had become her purpose, her salvation. And so, she endured. She would resist Pathfinder's demands, delaying him as much as she could, refusing the rite of bonds, refusing to break. She would bide her time, waiting for the arrival of the unknown being.

She had no idea who or what he was, but she would do everything in her power to ensure his coming did not bring ruin to her people. She would shape his path, guide him toward greatness, and in doing so, restore her World's position in the Multiversal rankings. She would see her people free and integrated into the multiverse. That was now her mission. And she would let no one stand in her way.

__ Rose Terravignion sat on top of a mountain on World p3x49, one of the countless uninhabited worlds on the outer fringes of the Eludian empire. Like all worlds with the P3 designation, it was devoid of civilization, a wild and untamed place. But it had one crucial quality: it was rich in water-affinity mana, making it the perfect environment for her Spellbinder Class.

She had been here for weeks, deep in seclusion, working toward the same goal as all D-grade powerhouses before reaching level two hundred and fifty, skill fusion. At long last, she felt it. The final threads of her abilities intertwined, binding together as one. A surge of power rippled through as her last two skills successfully fused.

"Congratulations, Shanshara," Daisy said. Rose let out a dramatic groan, stretching out her stiff limbs.

"Oh, Daisy, that was soooo boring." She had been in meditation for far too long, completely still and focused. Now, her entire body ached.

"We should start heading back; we have only six standard weeks before the banquet," Daisy reminded her. Rose made a face.

"Great." She was not looking forward to that. Lately, she had grown tired of all these expectations weighing down on her. She just wanted to run away, disappear, go on some grand adventure. But no, she was the daughter of Catalina Terravignion. A noble of her standing had responsibilities. That meant endless social gatherings, tiresome political games, and, of course, banquets. At least she wasn't the heir apparent. That unfortunate burden belonged to her brother.

The demands on his time made hers look like child's play.

"Poor Alk," She muttered.

"Shanshara?" Daisy asked.

"Nothing, I'm just talking to myself," Rose waved her off. She exhaled another deep sigh, rubbing her temples.

"Remind me again, who is this banquet for?"

"Lucius Von Brave the forty-ninth," Daisy replied.

"He recently achieved D-grade and had a notable performance in the tower."

"Oh, right. Another Von Brave," Rose grumbled. She hated that family. Their father, the so-called God of War, was a warmongering lunatic, and all his children were just as battle-obsessed as he was. She rubbed her face again.

"I'm sure the banquet won't have any unexpected fights at all," she muttered, sarcasm dripping from her voice. Every. Single banquet that involved the Von Brave family ended in a challenge, a duel, or an outright brawl. Every. Single. Time. She just hoped that, for once, this one would at least be somewhat enjoyable. As she stared out over the vast, untouched horizon, she absentmindedly raised a hand to her chest. Her fingers traced over the tattoo hidden beneath her clothing, the bond of Fate.

It was warm to the touch. Her lips pursed slightly. Why am I so unlucky? Stolen novel; please report. __ Joseph Caldwell, Progenitor of World 43, stood in the middle of Ibrox Stadium in Glasgow, exalting in pure joy. He was finally back. Well, not entirely back, he was in Scotland, not England. But this was the closest he had been to home since leaving France.

His excitement boiled over, and with a sudden burst of energy, he jumped out of the stadium and took off running south at a speed that rivalled a bullet train. The wind howled past his ears, the cityscape blurring around him as his enhanced Agility propelled him forward. It was exhilarating. His stats had skyrocketed after the Resource Grab: his Strength, his Agility, his mana reserves, everything. He had just hit level 49 in his Class, and he could feel level 50 was within reach.

His Class evolution was just around the corner. This was the perfect time to finally review his status, which had changed significantly over the past week. Status Name: Joseph Caldwell Age: 28 Race: High Human (Grade E - Rank 0) Alignment: High Human (World 43) Class: Farmer (Unique) Level 49, N/A Professions: Nature's Guardian(Legendary) Level 52 Bloodline: Light of the Eternal Spark (Grade E) Titles: World 43 Progenitor; Skills General Skills; Mana Focus(Passive). Aura Shout. Multiversal Translator.

Basic Cooking. Party. Natural Identify. Mana-Sight. Mana-Manipulation. ManaBlast. Class Skills; Diabolical Quarterstaffmanship. Basic Farming. Seed Flick, Seeds Will Grow. Mana-Coating. Rapid Strike. Mana Wave. Profession Skills; Nature's Barding. Nature's Guidance. Nature's Paradise. Nature's Keeper(Passive). Nature's Touch(Passive). Nature's Step. Nature's Alchemy. Nature's Flourish. Nature's Grace Basic Form. Nature's Harmony. Bloodline Skills; Eternal Moment. Light of Uriel. Light Affinity. Space Affinity.

Light's Guidance. Dao Sight. Stats Strength: 415 (50) Agility: 800 (140) Vitality: 443 (40) Endurance: 443 (40) Wisdom: 952 (80) Intelligence: 952 (80) Luck: 140 Hidden Stat: Dao Knowledge - 770 Free Points: 0 System Credits: 52, 943, 210 Joe looked over his stats and smiled. His Dao Knowledge stat no longer screamed in his mind to dump all his free points into it, so he had finally started investing in Agility instead. His speed was already absurd, but he wasn't about to complain about getting even faster.

Still, what really had him excited was his Class evolution. His Profession had granted him two new abilities when it evolved, and he couldn't help but wonder what kind of farming skills he would get this time?

"Maybe I'll get a skill for milking cows or raising chickens… Oooo, maybe an egg-launching skill," Joe mused with a grin. __ Kilch'Kitz Novo'Fara stared at the Integration Leaderboard screen before him. His name sat proudly at Rank 1 in his world, with twelve million, eight hundred thousand, and sixty-four Multiversal Integration points. His world, once formally known as Daro Prime Kovos IV, was now simply referred to as Corthenon, a far superior title in his opinion.

His beak snapped in irritation at the memory of those pre-system days, back when they were shackled to a meaningless name and an insignificant existence. The system had changed everything, elevating him and his race beyond their old limitations. Kilch'Kitz was a Corthegian, a human-avian hybrid with a beaked mouth, taloned feet, and a human-shaped body. Two enormous, feathered wings extended from his back, their brilliant yellow hue signifying his rank as the strongest among his people.

That had been true before the system, and it had only become an undisputed fact since his rise to power. His Class was already at level 140, his profession at level 100, both at the Rare rarity, ensuring he gained ten stat points per level at F-grade. Once he had reached E-grade at level 100, that stat gain had doubled. With his Profession's benefits, he had already amassed over a thousand stat points in E-Grade alone.

Reports were scattered around him, detailing the power levels of every top-tier powerhouse in the other top 20-ranked worlds. Anything below that? Not worth his time. In his eyes, those worlds were wasting the gift the system had granted them. Instead of clawing their way to power, they floundered, sinking deeper into the mire of mediocrity. He spat on the ground beside him in disgust. Kilch'Kitz loved stats. He lived for stats.

The only thing better than looking at his own status screen was basking in his absolute dominance over both leaderboards. His world had more than double the points of World Ranked 2, twenty-one million to their ten million. He alone had more points than entire worlds combined. This supremacy was no accident. He had single-handedly crushed every tournament and hunting-based event, racking up points at an unparalleled rate. He avoided team events, claiming that others needed those competitions to grow stronger.

The truth? He loathed social interactions. Kilch'Kitz was a loner. He hated almost everybody. He didn't need teammates or alliances; he needed only two things: his talons and his bow. Raising his hand, a bone-crafted longbow appeared in his palm. He ran his talons over its surface, admiring its lethal craftsmanship. Then, he withdrew a few vials of poison from his storage, his sharp eyes glinting. His Class, the Chironex Bowmaster, was an Agility-based, poison-focused path of destruction.

From the very first day, he had poured every free stat point into Agility. The result? Over a thousand points in raw speed. No one could keep up with him. With fluid precision, he tucked his gear back into his storage ring and returned his focus to the screen. The next Tournament Event was set to begin in one hundred Multiversal days. Kilch'Kitz smiled. It was soon time to remind the multiverse why he was Number One.

__ World Ranked 5 Zoop Xvvxix floated in place, his long, thin fins idly swaying as he regarded the two beings before him. Gool Xvvixi and Fodd Xvvivx, the top three rankers of their world, hovered in the deep chamber, their translucent bodies shimmering under the bioluminescent glow of the coral spires around them.

"Report on the Resource Grab shows a complete, total victory for the failed tutorial world, World 43," Gool reported before making a gargling noise. The noise was not unusual; it was simply how their species spoke. All three of them, like the rest of their kind, existed in the vast ocean depths of World Ranked 5, a fully aquatic planet. They were Grosii Xvv, an intelligent, long-bodied, fish-like species that propelled themselves with long, thin fins.

While they could survive outside of water, they had to continuously coat themselves in mana to prevent their bodies from drying out. Because of this, all Grosii Xvv possessed magic-based Classes, their intelligence-focused abilities making them masters of reconnaissance and information gathering.

"Do we know how World 43's inhabitants became so powerful after failing the tutorial?" Zoop asked, his deep blue eyes narrowing.

"We have been in contact with the participants of World Ranked 48," Food replied, his shimmering body shifting in the current." They stated that World 43 had one confirmed E-Grade combatant, one unconfirmed. And a handful of very high-level F-grades." Zoop's fins stiffened at the mention of E-grade. How could a failed world possibly produce an E-grade combatant? It should have been impossible.

"Unconfirmed?" Zoop repeated.

"Yes," Food answered." The E-grade only fought in one battle against World Ranked 47. The opponent was Goros, a confirmed E-grade, who was defeated." Zoop swayed in the current, his long tail curling slightly.

"Puzzling," he murmured, lost in thought. Reintegration? He had thought it was laughable, a fairy tale, something that had never happened before. But now? What if they did it? What then? The very structure of the rankings could shift in unforeseen ways.

"Should we prepare a plan?" Gool asked. Zoop's mind raced. Survival was their greatest strength; it always had been. Adapt and survive. That was their way.

"Yes," he said at last.

"Prepare for World 43's appearance on the integration leaderboards." They would be ready. __ Murmurs spread across the worlds competing for Multiversal Integration. Most paid no mind to World 43, their focus consumed by survival as they struggled against the System Seeds that had reshaped their existence. Yet, some recognized that something monumental was unfolding. Across the Multiverse, eyes turned toward the current Integration Competition.

Every competition was broadcast throughout the Multiverse, watched by Decillions of beings. Fortunes were made and lost as bets flooded the Empire's connecting networks, gambling on outcomes, victories, and defeats. Some gamblers gained fame and riches, while most lost it all, swallowed by the tides of fate. But this time, it was not only the mortals who took notice. One God in particular was paying close attention to this current competition.

"All forty-nine races have been accounted for, Matriarch", a long-eared Vries Mortifi reported. His tone was clipped and precise.

"There are no reports of any human race among the competing worlds. We believe the only possible explanation is that World 43 is the world you are searching for." Catalina Terravignion clicked her tongue in annoyance. So that was why she had been unable to find any word of the man forcefully bonded to her daughter. He was currently vying for reintegration. Her mind was torn between relief and dismay.

"Thank you, Clarsari. You may go," Catalina said. The Mortifi bowed low and left immediately, leaving her alone in the grand chamber. Catalina let out a tired sigh. This was a problem. She had been seeking information on this Joseph Caldwell. His being stuck in reintegration meant he was out of reach, even more so than the other 49 worlds competing in the competition. Her mind returned to her daughter and other concerns. She tapped a well-manicured nail against the armrest of her chair.

She would need to find the perfect candidate to escort her daughter to the upcoming banquet. Someone who would demonstrate the importance of status and power, possibly even encourage her to be more active in Eludian affairs. Her daughter was growing too adventurous, straying too far towards her father's antics… For the briefest moment, Aqua's face appeared in her mind. He was stuck in the outer sectors, clearing out a small insurgency.

It grated at her that she missed him, her fourth or, was it, the fifth husband, she forgot. Her marriages had been more about the duty and the raising of an heir than love. Something she genuinely regretted. But she was too busy; leading an Empire was exhausting. Maybe when he returned, she would take him to some place fun. Maybe it was time for Rose to have a sister… She shook her head, grimacing. Her mind returned to that damn seedling and that ill-placed human. She hoped he died during the reintegration.

She hated the lack of control in her own daughter's life that he represented. But there was something else, something about him that spiked her curiosity. Why had the seedling done what it did? Was this perhaps an opportunity? She knew that the integration presented a slew of opportunities for those involved. Almost every single A grade powerhouse started out in an integration. She herself had been involved in the very first integration. Which led her to achieve Godhood.

Maybe this human wasn't a curse, but an opportunity. If only he wasn't tied to her favourite child. First, she would have to keep them apart. She knew Rose far too well. She loved adventure and excitement, something that came with integration competitors hand in hand. If, heaven forbid, he turned out to be another Alfstarter Firebrand, a shining star, destined for the peak of A-grade… She shuddered. She was getting carried away. There was no way he would even survive the integration… Surely…