Chương 267: Chapter 264 - The Creator

Normally when you experienced a skill orb you would be placed in the body of the person that you were supposed to learn from. You could feel their physical sensation, their emotions and most of all, the way they used their skills. There was none of that here. As far as Ryan could tell, he was not in the body of a living thing. No limbs, no emotions, no physiological phenomena. Only the most basic of perception. Sight, smell and sound.

Whatever perspective he was taking, it was stationary, angled upwards, as if he was hovering off the ground. As a living breathing thing, suddenly not having limbs or anything physical was not a comfortable thing at all. It took a few seconds but he finally focused on the surrounding at hand. They were within a workshop that defied reality. There were two figures within, one sitting away from Ryan, their backs turned to him. He looked masculine and human, with long light brown hair.

Another figure was standing with her–at least it looked feminine to Ryan— she had all four of her arms crossed and was mostly humanoid. A proud position with dark purple skin and three midnight black eyes. The hunched over man with his back turned to him tinkered away on a bench that seemingly seemed to blur in and out of reality. Ryan could still use his skills here and the [Conceptual Neophyte] in him told him that the workbench was constantly changing its nature—its concepts. Though… [Spellweave Perception].

Ryan's mind went blank and he quickly turned off the skill as his mind overloaded from the sheer complexity of magical runes within the table. It wasn't just concepts. That workbench alone was probably worth more than… well there probably wasn't a number to put on it. The man with light brown hair chuckled. He plucked something out of himself and looked intensely at it. Ryan caught a bit of— something but he could not see the face of the man, not from where he was.

Then the being then held the something in midair and started to gently pull away strands away from it with what looked like tweezers. Concepts, Ryan realized. The man was doing surgery on his own concepts, pulling what he didn't want out of the ball of concepts. The light brown hair turned lighter, quickly to white as wrinkles started to form on the hands. A change in age to match the concepts that he was creating.

When he was satisfied, the figure placed it ever so gently onto the workbench, then carefully, he lifted his hands and held them far away from the workbench. One second, two seconds and— Crack!

"Ah—shoot!" The hair turned to a vibrant brown, his wrinkles gone as the figure slammed his fist down on the table. It vibrated to take the blow and Ryan was certain that impact could kill—well anything. But not the table, for what good workbench could not withstand the fury of a crafter having failed a delicate operation?

"Damned pantheons and hellspawns both! Jule'Vark did you not see the 'do not disturb' sign on my door?" The name hit Ryan like a punch to the gut. Before the outburst these two had felt like people… no presence behind them." I saw. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't urgent." The now much younger figure put his hands through his hair. As the hair waved about a scent filled the room, like sawdust and coffee. It was surprisingly pleasant. Both of them were beings beyond ascendants, beyond Legends.

True Gods, if the stage beyond ascendants were such things. They played with reality and concepts like they were shifting objects around. The man aged himself forward, back to a more light brown in hair. He went back to pull at the concepts from himself as he responded to Jule'Vark.

"What is it?" The purple skinned four armed lady glared at Ryan and he suddenly had the overwhelming feeling that he was going to die. It was like when he had met the Witch Tyrant all over again. Some part of him even wanted to kneel. Not that he could or ever would. Not to the creators of the Trial System.

"Does that thing have to be recording us?"

"It records everything, Jule'Vark. How else are the conditions going to be fulfilled?" Jule'Vark hissed, her annoyance was a palpable thing. Even if she wasn't emitting anything sort of energy Ryan recognized, just her enraged presence made Ryan believe she could wipe out stars with a wave of the hand.

"Stop using my name." The man with brown hair—the crafter was not repentant at all. He was back to working on the concepts once more, talking to her like they were just coworkers at an office cubicle.

"You wished to become a moderator, did you not? Multiple imprints are safer, more permanent."" I did not want to be here." Jule'Vark paused as she realized he was no longer focused on her again. She slammed her hands on the workbench. The crafter held the orb of concepts away from her as she shouted at him." You and your hellborn obsession! They— we want results. I am here to shut you down if you can't give me something more than pretty baubles." This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent.

Report any appearances on Amazon. The light brown hair of the crafter turned a shade whiter.

"Shut me down? What? Are they mad? Do they not see what we're creating here?"" I know. They don't understand" The Creator suddenly seemed distraught.

"This… this is the future. How—how could they not see? You said you'd be able to handle it." Jule'Vark stared into her old friend's face. Her eyes were not that of humans at all. He could not see the reflection of the Creator in her eyes. Jule'Vark sighed.

"They're old, I've told you this before. You do not know what it is like for those that have never been mortal in the first place." The man's light brown hair changed, or rather, his age did. Changing to a dark brown—younger, then aging all the way to pure white. When he was satisfied with the perspective, he sighed. Voice turning raspy with the weariness of time.

"Yes… yes, we have. We did not create the system to instantiate early. But—it will be ready to produce ascendants at the very least. But what a waste. What a waste. Can you not delay them further? If I just had more time—" Jule'Vark shook her head.

"No. The Reciprocal faction called on the pacts of old to bring the three civilizations together. They're saying this recent incursion requires it." She scoffed and shook her head, her middle eye doing something similar to an eyeroll.

"When that happens, they'll sweep the hellspawn in a mortal lifespan. If you don't have results by then, it won't matter what I say. You know how it goes. The end of war brings scrutiny on all things… and we have spent too much resources and have broken far too many rules to come out unscathed." The great old crafter listened to her words like a mortal would. Then he sighed, just like a mortal would.

"I suppose we are ready for some sort of a Trial run. A budding Legend—though flawed—should be possible given the right conditions." Jule'Vark snorted.

"Do that and you'll have all the support you'll need." And then she disappeared. One moment the being was there, the next she was just gone. For a moment there was silence as the old crafter sat there on his workbench. Then he shook his head, his tone was less wandering than before." Politics. I had hoped reaching this realm would mean I would be free of it. A childish dream I suppose." The Creator went back to working away at the orb. Ryan tried to watch every detail but it was far, far too much.

If Ryan was a [Neophyte] then this old crafter was a [Grandmaster], weaving every single esoteric power around the basis of concepts. They moved all of it like it was as easy as breathing. What Ryan did understand was that the crafter was trying to take the personal concepts out of himself. Make it as perfectly blank as possible until he had something like a class orb in his hands. Did every single class orb originate from this crafter? Surely not. As the minutes went by Ryan finally realized what was going on.

The crafter in front of him was showing the Trial System how to create classes. Every single moment, every single detail that needed to be was being recorded. But there was nothing to learn for him. This was too complicated, too detailed, it was like going up to him while he was working at a Manaburger then suddenly telling him to pay attention to a neurosurgeon performing surgery. A hundred and fifty attempts at observing this orb wouldn't be enough.

The crafter lifted the final product and then gently placed it on the workbench again. His hair suddenly turned a dark brown as he clapped in celebration. He laughed and laughed, then lifted the orb into the air, marveling at it." Oh Jule'Vark. It is you that has become too old. You have seen the same thing happen over and over again and you have fallen into accepting those patterns. No, nothing will be the same again. For it never is and it never has been."

The crafter stood up from the workbench, his chair sliding backwards. He lifted the orb into the air. A ball of concepts with a light layer of illusion and fate on top. A class orb. He turned around and Ryan beheld the face of the true Creator of the Trial System. A chill went down his nonexistent spine. For there was no face. It was glitched out—like someone had taken the recording and ripped apart where his face should have been.

The crafter, the Creator of the Trial System walked slowly towards him—towards the nascent form of the Trial System. He presented the class orb to the Trial System. Ryan could barely just barely see the smile underneath the glitched out face.

"My precious creation, if one day you gain sapience. If you survive for countless eons, never fall into that trap of believing everything will stay the same. For if you do, it may be too late to adapt by then." And the Creator let the Trial System absorb the class. And Ryan was kicked out and back into the time chamber. Ryan just sat there, dazed. Two of the most powerful beings that Ryan had seen or even heard of. The creators of the Trial System, or rather, its one true Creator.

The creation of classes, the Trial System and…

"Is the Trial System sapient?" Pop. Pop. No. Ryan let out a breath. That was… almost a relief. But its Creator had thought that it might develop a sapience. Though if it hadn't so far then the Trial System wasn't going to develop one anytime soon. Hopefully. Ryan shook his head.

"Is the Creator of the Trial System dead?" Pop. pop… pop. Maybe, or uncertain. Ryan continued to sit for a while. Again, he had gotten used to reveals that blew the mind but this one was quite literally out of this world. He stared at the cost in days to experience it. 1. 0 One day to experience it. The smallest amount possible for a skill orb. Ridiculous … Until you thought about it from the Trial System's point of view. Ryan was watching the creation of classes not from the user but from a third party.

Normally skill orbs had experiences from the people using the skill directly. You could experience other skills related to it and even find out unique and creative ways to use the skill. In regards to the [Class Change] skill, this experience was practically useless. Ryan could spend a lifetime watching it and not understand a single part of what the Creator had done. Not only that, he experienced no other skills because the Trial System didn't use anything he could detect.

It was only there because the Trial System did not have the minimum three class orbs to show him. Ryan was still dazed. Gods. Creation. Change. The Trial System had gone out of control but he hadn't realized it was a black box project. Funded by what sounded like a cold war situation between the Great Civilizations. At least until they decided to call upon a pact and sweep an incursion of hellspawn together. At least, that was how he understood it.

It was why the Trial System was so biased towards combat despite clearly having potential for more. The crafter, the Creator had always wanted more out of his creation but hadn't been given enough time. It had then gone out of control… or maybe…

"Did the Creator unleash the Trial System on purpose?" Pop. pop… pop. Uncertain again.

"Fu–" Pop. Ryan took a breath and sighed. Then he swore multiple times in quick succession, ignoring the pops attempting to interrupt him each time.

"Why was the Creator's face blanked out?" Pop!

"Ah f—" Pop. It wasn't a yes or no question. The loud pop was to call him an idiot.

"Fine, do you know why his face has been blanked out?" Pop. Yes.

"Did he do it himself?" Pop. pop.

"Did you do it?" Pop. pop. Pop!" Goddam—" Pop." That's not even a swear word!" Ryan had the feeling the loud pops were the Manager calling him an idiot. The entity was saying no and calling him an idiot for asking if the Manager had removed the Creator's face.

"You know what fu–" Pop.

"-ck this, we'll talk about this when I hit the tenth realm. Wash your neck and wait for me." Pop! With that of the way, Ryan turned to the biggest orb he'd ever seen or heard of. A giant skill orb floating in front of him. Nearly twenty five days cost to experience it. Sixth realms with B-minus grade achievements would end up spending all of their allotted time here.

"Though seriously, when I experienced the [Resource Overdrive] orb I saw a massive war, a cultivator attempting to ascend and One-Eyed Rick fighting off the Tyrants. Twenty five days and you start in a bar? Really? It's a little disappointing, right?" Pop! He reached out—and regretted what came next.