Fourteen years ago, soon after Jack entered the Space Monster World…
Sovereign Heavenly Spoon lay sprawled over a soft chair. His mouth was a hard line. Calculations flashed through his eyes. All across the windows surrounding him, endless stars twinkled, the heralds of tiny days in endless night. Their colors could awe any mortal mind. Yet, the Sovereign was lost in thought, the starry view all too familiar. The darkness in his mind was greater than that outside the starship.
“Hey, Spoon,” a voice interrupted his musings. He rose to his feet, fighting hard to regain his usual jovialty.
“Min Ling,” he said, looking at the door. “How many times must I ask you to address me as Elder?”
“Not doing it.”
He chuckled. “Well, that’s fine too. Any good news?”
“I wish.”
She plopped down on a chair, her leather armor sinking against the cushion. Her appearance and aura had changed over the past few years—she’d cut her long dark hair short, barely reaching her shoulders, while her body was covered in scars beneath the armor. She could mend them anytime she wished, but had vowed to only do it after the war was over. In her brown eyes, lightning played, oftentimes wrapped in fire.
She didn’t speak for a while, and neither did Spoon. They were comfortable in the silence. It let their facades wash away.
The Sovereign’s shoulders slumped, until he eventually collapsed back in his chair as well. “What happened this time?” he asked tiredly.“The Gods came back.”
“They did!?”
“Yeah. They barged into the battlefield, instantly destroying the opposition and saving Elder Boatman.”
Spoon chuckled. “Eleven Gods is hardly what you want to see mid-battle. Did the enemy receive heavy casualties?”
“If you want to call it that. They lost a few low-level Elders and an army of B-Grades. Hero was there too, but he managed to escape.”
“Of course he did. The man is a cockroach.”
Min Ling scratched her scalp. “I was thinking. You know how we keep sending assassins after him and he keeps narrowly surviving?”
“Yeah?”
“What if we’re just training him?”
Spoon considered it. “I guess we are. But, all it takes is one mistake, and then bam, no hero.”
“Yeah…” She fell silent for a moment. “Anyway. After wrapping up that battle, the Gods did not visit the New Cathedral. They charged straight into System space. Right at the Immortals.”
Spoon perked up. “And?” he asked.
“And came back a few hours later. Injured.”
“They injured the Gods?!”
“They did worse. Only ten Gods returned. The one of Mass didn’t. We intercepted some enemy communications; they call Elder Hero the God Killer.”
Spoon fell silent. Min Ling waited patiently until he was ready to speak. “I didn’t even know Gods could die,” he finally said.
“Everyone can. Apparently.”
“This is terrible.”
“Yeah.”
“How did they lose? You can’t expect me to believe Hero dueled one of them and won.”
“Of course not. Unfortunately, we don’t know the specifics. The Gods aren’t saying, at least as far as I can tell. My guess is they simply got swarmed. The Immortals command a bunch of Archons—rushing in after announcing their presence was just arrogant.”
“An arrogance they paid for.”
“Even Gods commit hubris.”
“And now what?”
“Now, we wait. Word is that the Gods retreated somewhere to tend to their wounds. When they’re ready, they’ll attack alongside the Church. A battle to judge the fate of the universe.”
Spoon nodded. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“That we should get some food?”
“That the Gods were humbled. One of them dying may have been good for us. They were arrogant and thoughtless before, uninvested. They thought they could come and go as they like. That’s not true anymore. They’ve tasted fear. They’ve seen one of them perish. They know the Immortals are worthy enemies, so they’ll work alongside us, even if they disparage us as mortals. In fact, I don’t even think they’ll retreat this time, as they did in the First Crusade. They’ll fight to the death.”
Min Ling considered it. “I disagree,” she said. “Those things were born divine. They’ve never tasted struggle. The moment things go south, they’ll run away, hiding at the edge of the universe and hoping the Immortals self-implode.”
“...Which isn’t that unreasonable, actually.”
“I know.”
Another round of silence passed. “Think they’re actually licking their wounds?” Min Ling asked, letting her head drop back in resignation. Her real feelings, those of fear and muted hope, resurfaced. “Or did they already escape?”
“I have no way to tell. I suppose they’re considering it. What did our communications say?”
“That the Gods gave a decree. They will recuperate for a few years. Then, we strike, and we destroy the Immortals once and for all.”
“...Is it weird that I got hyped up?”
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“No. I got too.”
“Now I only have one more question.”
“Shoot.”
“If I’m here, and you’re here… Who’s steering the damn starship?”
She burst out with laughter. “The Sage’s routes are accurate. But, alright, I’ll go. Can you cook up something?”
“I could just conjure it.”
“I know, but I want you to work for it.”
“Fine. How’s pasta and tea?”
“Can we not have tea for once?”
“Tea is the quintessence of life.”
Min Ling sighed. “I knew we should have gotten more people.”
“No,” Spoon replied sharply. “More people means more liabilities. It’s better this way. If we fail this mission, only we die.”
She gave him a long stare but didn’t say anything. She slipped into the helm room, guiding their ship while Sovereign Heavenly Spoon busied himself in the kitchen.
The small starship crossed the emptiness between galaxies.
***
Brock had been meditating in the Dao room. As soon as he sensed the commotion of the next room settle down, however, he quickly rushed out. The main chamber remained messy—the door to the cultivation chamber was firmly shut.
The brorilla had heard’s Jack request to close the door. He’d been in shallow meditation at the time, thankfully. What happened afterward left him stumped. A tremendous storm of energy whipped up in Jack’s room, so intense that even the seventh floor’s protection mechanisms failed to contain it completely. Beams of pure energy radiated from where the door met the wall, creating a unique kind of light show, while Jack’s Dao seemed so miniscule compared to the overall energy it was barely detectable. Brock had almost rushed in to save his bro.
However, while Jack’s Dao seemed tiny, it was stable. It was not waning with time. Instead, the rampant energy was slowly dying down, as if something was absorbing it.
A day after the incident, Brock returned to the Dao room, keeping his perception spread in case Jack needed him. A year later, the energy storm fell to a constant low level. Another three years, and Brock sensed the door of the room open, at which point he bolted out.
“Bro!” he exclaimed. As he saw Jack, however, he paused.
“Hey Brock,” Jack said, a calm smile on his face. “How are you doing?”
Brock did not respond, eyes glued on his brother. His appearance had reverted to the human one, his Double Devil disguise wiped off. He’d also broken into the A-Grade, just like Brock, which was expected.
However, his aura… Brock couldn’t comprehend it. Staring at Jack, it felt like looking at the open sky, the endless stars of a starry night. There was an almost metaphysical tingle to it, something which even Brock, with his A-Grade cultivation, couldn’t quite grasp. A deep sense of reverence rose from his soul, filling him with so much awe he could barely speak.
“Oh, sorry, am I releasing my aura?” Jack said, noticing Brock’s stare. “I’m still getting used to this. How about now?”
Before Brock could respond, Jack’s aura had completely disappeared. If he wasn’t looking at his big brother, he would have thought he left the room. His aura was completely restrained inside his body, just like a common mortal, yet a faint sense of awe persisted, existing at the back of Brock’s mind as a whisper only the most attentive would notice.
“What?” was all Brock could ask. For the first time, the big bro in front of him was completely unfathomable. Unreadable. His strength reached unknown depths, and Brock had no idea how this was even possible. It was like Jack had completely transformed.
All Brock knew was that, whatever had happened to his big bro, he’d grown massively stronger. It was an increase far greater than what breaking into the A-Grade would justify. Brock could feel it in his bones—if they tried to spar right now, he wouldn’t even pose a challenge. A dozen Brocks at a time would still lose. The strength hiding in Jack’s body was apocalyptic.
Or divine, he realized.
Jack laughed with joy at Brock’s reaction, but he wasn’t one to leave his bro hanging. He explained everything, about his Universe of the Body, his breakthrough, how he’d almost misstepped before utilizing all those resources at once.
“How strong are you now?” Brock asked.
Jack frowned in thought. He opened his status screen again, taking in the new changes.
Error! Inner World undetected. Unforeseen physical changes detected. Calculating.
Error! Calculations impossible. Using faulty stat translation protocol. Approximation mode activated.
Approximation results: Physical stats doubled. Further increases impossible.
Congratulations! B-Grade → A-Grade
Congratulations! You have successfully developed cultivators in your inner world, firmly stepping onto the path of godhood.
All stats +400
Free stat points per Level Up: 50 → 0. The Immortal System can no longer fuel your growth.
Level Up! You have reached Level 550.
Congratulations! The Bare Fist Brotherhood faction has reached the A-Grade. New functions unlocked in the faction screen.
Jack smiled again. No matter how times he read it, his joy didn’t change.
During his meditation session, he’d first risen from Level 513 to 549, investing all stat points into Physical. The result was a total of 14,330 points. Then, when he fused his inner world into his physical body, the System’s best approximation of what happened was a doubling of his Physical stats. He reached a staggering 28,660. After the extra points of the A-Grade breakthrough, he settled on 29,060 points. His Mental and Will stats, both at 2000, now looked puny in comparison.
Given that his body already had approached most Archons’ in intensity before, claiming the title of the physically strongest cultivator in existence right now wasn’t necessarily a stretch. He possessed the physical prowess of a small universe. His relative power to others was difficult to estimate.
Name: Jack Rust
Species: ???
Faction: Bare Fist Brotherhood (A)
Grade: A
Class: Paragon of Cultivation (Legendary)
Level: 550
Strength: 29,060
Dexterity: 29,060
Constitution: 29,060
Mental: 2000
Will: 2000
Dao Skills: Meteor Punch IV, Space Mastery IV, Death Mastery IV, Neutron Star Body IV, Black Hole IV, Iron Fist Style III, Brutalizing Aura III, Supernova III, Fist of Mortality III, Titan Taunt III, Immortal Commune I
Inner World size: ??? miles
Inner Cultivator Boundaries:
Highest: F-Grade
Average: F-Grade
Titles: Planetary Frontrunner (10), Planetary Torchbearer (1), Ninth Ring Conqueror, Planetary Leader (1), Grade Defier, Planet Destroyer, Challenger
Interestingly, his Class hadn’t changed. He had no idea why. Instead, his species had gone from human to question marks. Makes sense. Am I even human anymore?
He sighed, looking over his numbers again.
“Well?” Brock asked. “How strong are you?”
“I’m honestly not sure,” he replied. “I think I’m at least on par with anyone I’ve ever seen fight—Great Silver, Fiend King, Summer Noon. It’s hard to tell until I actually battle an Archon or two.”
Brock nodded. “I’m proud. I think my power is late to peak A-Grade.”
“Which is great. We’re both amazing, bro.”
“Damn right!” Brock replied, pumping a fist.
“How many years did I spend in there?” Jack asked.
“Around ten since we arrived at this seventh floor. Fifteen since your duel declaration to Elder Hero, so another fifteen until you need to fight. We have time.”
“Yes and no,” Jack replied, shaking his head. “We do have time, but our cultivations have risen sharply. We have the power to fight at the highest level now. I think we should leave this place early and go find the Church. We can still cultivate until the war’s climax if we’re there, but it would be a shame to miss it.”
“I had the same thought,” Brock agreed. “With your power, bro, we don’t need to be afraid of anything. Only the Gods are above you now.”
“Well, I think there are many Archons more powerful than me as well, but sure. In any case, leaving this world will not be a problem. Do you want to check out the final room before we go?”
“The Will one?” Brock asked, looking at the middle door they’d never opened. “But we can’t go in.”
Jack smiled. He touched his palm on the door—a flash of purple light spread out, illuminating so-far invisible runes and erasing them. The door creaked open. “We’re powerful now, Brock,” he said. “We can do anything we want.”
Brock laughed. “With you here, bro, I fear nothing. Let’s check it out.”
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