Max ignored the booming laughter that came from the demon that filled the kaleidoscope space. Bob had flown him to eye level, almost two miles above the ground beneath them. A single pulsing red eye blinked once as Max hovered there, weapons drawn. “Put those tiny things away,” the demon boomed. “I didn’t know what you were then, but I do now. It’s not foolish enough to try to fight me. Not even a black skill is that hungry or thirsty to risk certain death.” Max felt his whole body trembling; the anger and rage he felt were overwhelming his reason and logic. This isn’t what I expected! Where is Gykewotik! Why didn’t he come?! I would assume that it is because one of the Nine came instead. Focus, Max. We’re here for Miranna. You chose this option to gain time, think, and call in your favor from that demon if needed. Instead, it appears we have been ambushed. Max’s head ached as he struggled to listen to Bob. Every part of him wanted nothing more than to rush forward, driving the weapon built from Wekime’s tooth into the oversized eye. Yet the mention of his daughter’s name steadied Max slightly. It eased the struggle just enough that he could push back the desire to attack. Dying here, breaking what potential contract might be enforced, gave Max a small glimmer of hope. He took deep breaths, ignoring the smell and taste of rotting flesh that he noticed permeated the very air. After seven of them, Max felt himself letting go of the rage that threatened to consume him. He stored his weapons and glared at the demon before him. “So, who are you? What is your name?” A massive head shook back and forth, its eye never taking its gaze off of Max. “You are not worthy to know my name, nor will I share it. Many know me by a different name. Surely you know what I am. To reach the power you have means there is a flicker of intelligence within.” Max knew Bob was right. Finally able to focus, he could sense an aura that seemed to radiate from the god. Had he charged forward, trying to attack the demon who stood before him, Max wasn’t sure he could have made his way through what he now felt. So… how do we deal with him? We can’t fight him, and I doubt we can injure him even if I tried. This presence… It’s far more than what we faced in that dungeon. System rules and limits? New ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄhapters are published on 𝔫𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔩~𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢~𝔫𝔢𝔱 Most likely. If that is the case, I can only wonder what Wekime must be like outside of those boundaries. Perhaps that is the only reason we were able to draw a single drop of blood. “I sense… a conversation… Two minds. That is impossible,” the demon growled. “How can this be? I heard rumors, watched the battles you fought in. Surely you can’t—” As the demon had been speaking, its gigantic clawed hand had reached for them. Like clouds covering the sun, darkness had begun to surround Max, and then its palm and fingers stopped when an aura of red energy covered Max like a giant ball. “NOOO!” Max’s head vibrated from the booming roar of the demon as it pulled its hand back, smoke rising from it. His hand, the one that bore the mark of Wekime, radiated a golden glow. “HE MARKED YOU! IMPOSSIBLE!” Max flew backward away from the demon as the black and purple aura surrounding the god began to radiate and expand further from its body. The god continued to roar, waves of pressure shaking the kaleidoscope walls and ground. Pain ran up and down Max’s arm as the symbol that had been burned into his hand glowed brighter. His flesh didn’t melt or vanish, but it felt almost as painful as the Wildfire spell had when it devoured his arm. Can we break this summoning spell and get out of here? Possibly, but then what? We might escape, but then we’re back in that room with Miranna and the others. We’ll have no answers. Even if I reset the cooldown on the summoning ability, there is no guarantee this one won’t come again. Max endured the noise as the god of Death continued to show his displeasure at whatever had happened to his hand. The demon stared at the injury, focused upon the red, molten blood that was dripping from where its skin had come in contact with the red ball of magic. Each splatter on the ground turned into a cloud of black and purple that slowly spread from the area of impact. A few moments passed, and the demon’s focus turned from its injured hand to Max, its red eye narrowing as eyelids appeared around it. “You… cannot be. This is not how it should be!” Max chuckled. It came out, unexpected at first. And then he started to laugh even harder. His heart ached because once again, someone he loved was caught in whatever game the gods had been playing. Here he was, standing before another of the Nine, somehow defying whatever expected outcomes had been in place, still unsure why he had even been given a black skill at all. Laughter echoed inside as Bob joined him in this moment. That’s what I’ve always enjoyed about you, Max. No one ever gets from you what they expect. Not even myself. Now then, go ahead and ask the question I know is on the tip of your tongue. Max steadied himself and waited as Bob slowly flew them toward the god, who was glowering at him. “What did you expect? A crazed, murder filled, mindless being? Something you could control?” Its eye narrowed even more, less than an eighth of it showing now. Slowly, the God of Death raised a single finger, pointed it at Max, yet did not move it toward him. “You do not realize what will happen to you. I shall get my revenge on that day. You owe me for what took place in my dungeon and for the pain you brought upon me for revealing what had happened within. I will get my revenge, and you, Max Hoste, shall suffer for it.” Do all the gods talk ? “You’re not the first to say that, and all those before you have failed,” Max replied. “If you’ve learned one thing watching my fights, I offer mercy to those who deserve it, and you do not.” This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. A loud grunt came from the demon as it waved its giant hand at him. “Threats from a godling like you mean nothing. You are not the first to be different. Some have pretended to be unchanged. They played the part of a marionette. But strings break, and the creature that controls them always takes over. Perhaps you are different , but either way, I’m tired of this game. The toy before me is broken, and that shall be your undoing. Had you been the tool I desired, I would have shown you the way to be used, but now…” The demon tsked, a large black tongue appearing and rubbing the outer edges of its maw. “You will suffer as all the rest before.” Power began to radiate again from the god as it took a step back. A loud, booming explosion came again, and the kaleidoscope room shook. Seconds passed as the strain upon them seemed ready to shatter them all, yet none gave way. “NO! It cannot!” the demon shouted. This spell! The system’s rules! Caught in its own snare. A giant eye came toward him, the demon leaning forward as it glared. “Release me! Now!” “Or what?” Max asked, shrugging his shoulders. “Do not play a game with me!” it roared. “DO you—” Max held up a hand. He was slightly surprised when the demon stopped its tirade. “The rules of the spell cannot be changed, and it would appear you have fallen to it. Tell me, did Gykewotik seek you out and tell you about me? Did he tell you what happened to him?” Two rows of teeth clamped down on each other, and a noise like mountains crashing into each other filled the space. Max chuckled and smiled. “It would appear that he might have left that part out. I think you’re in the same position he found himself. Unable to leave, and if I’m right, the one who marked me will protect me from whatever you send my way. It seems we’re both stuck here for some time.” Purple flames sprang up around a fist the demon brought up near its face. “You would be a fool to think you can hold me. I will give you this one chance. Release me now, or face the consequences.” Max felt a ball of anger grow inside himself, knowing what was coming next. “Yes, I can see it,” the demon replied, smiling. “The truth is displayed in your eyes. You know what I’m speaking about, Max Hoste. Your child… she is” “Don’t!” Max shouted. “You cannot threaten me! Her life is in my hands. If I desire, she will die! Only I can free her!” A hint of worry flooded him as Bob spoke. He might be speaking the truth. Miranna’s day of awakening… the timing, the sequence of all these events. We’re… just as stuck as he is. Max’s hands became fists that shook, and he closed both of his eyes. She can’t help or hear you here. None of them can. It is just you and me. Then what do we do, Bob? What can I do? How do I stop a god ? How do I save my daughter?! A stone wall appeared beneath Max, floating in the air just an inch away. Bob lowered him until his feet touched, and then a chair appeared behind Max from his dimensional storage. Sit. We’ll play this game. Against a god who has been around since the beginning of it all?! We’re going to wait him out?! Do not forget how the game played out when we had no power. There was nothing we could do against Ezreal when he took us prisoner. Your tenacity, stubbornness, and willpower not to give in then provided us with the opportunity to survive. That is what we did and more. Now you must show that same fortitude. In here, time is different. I cannot promise you that no time is passing where Tanila and Miranna are. I have no idea how long this spell might last with a being this strong. If you and I have learned anything about the system, it is this: It has rules and they must be followed. Breaking those rules has consequences. As someone who has broken them, I have faced those moments. And that god over there, he has as well. Max took a few seconds to consider Bob’s words and then sat. A second later, a book on cooking appeared in his hand, followed by a small table beside his chair. Laughter came from the god who towered above him. “You must be—” Max held up his hand, setting the book down with his other hand and summoned a flask of water. “Here are my demands if you want to be free from this prison,” Max stated. “Release my daughter so that she returns to me the moment this spell ends, alive, well, and changed only in the way of how the Archons might wish. You will also swear never to do anything that threatens her life again, or be punished by the system for breaking an oath. You will then—” Max sighed, waiting for the echo to go away as the demon pointed a black and purple finger at him again. “You will also swear to not act against me, my friends, or my worlds.” Max took a drink and stored the water. He didn’t need to drink. It was all for show. “Then we shall wait. Just know you will violate the rules of this summoning. May the system know you have broken it, attacked me, and—” “I will hunt down those you love,” the demon whispered, yet each word carried the same force as a raging storm. “You will never find rest until the day your soul—” Max stored his book and pulled out two small pieces of cork. “When you’re ready to talk, and play by the system’s rules, show me your palm. Until then, each word you speak and moment we spend here stands as an attack against me and the rules of the system.” Max then stuck the cork pieces in his ear and retrieved his book. For the first time in a long time, he deactivated his sonar skill. He could still feel the vibrations of the demon’s words as it shouted at him, but Max didn’t care. If Batrire were here, she’d need a lot of soap to deal with that mouth. A chuckle resonated in his head as Max heard Bob laugh. I’m not sure there’s enough soap in all the worlds for this one.