Nate had taken to painting a new wall within his room. The delay of one hour before they would gather to talk had been extended after Kiri sensed Evindal approaching the city. With that delay, everyone had taken up various tasks to keep themselves busy and Kiri had gone to find Evindal. Deverell had disappeared to go see reactions within the Capital to their rescue of the Guildies. Ameera and Karim had elected to leave and return to Gashana with Luc escorting the pair out of the city. Frick was still building two new rooms—one would be Null’s and the other was for Kiri since Britt would be staying with Nate. Jacque and the apprentices were still asleep, which was fair given it was the middle of the night. Finally, Aisling was catching Britt and Null up on everything that had happened.

  Nate recognised he could have gone and joined Aisling’s explanation to offer his support to Britt. In truth, he felt like a bit of an ass by not being there with her. But, at this moment, he wanted to be alone with his thoughts, because Bordain’s words had cut deeper than he was willing to admit. His beliefs that Bordain’s Path—a Path that was built on slavery and corpses, where only those with power had a future—was morally wrong and repugnant to Nate. That didn’t change the fact that he could see how such a Path would work. It was easy to try and make comparisons to Earth and its cultures, but mana and magic changed everything. Even on Earth, they had begun to automate some jobs and tasks before he had been thrown across the multiverse. With magic on Galle, a single reasonably skilled Farmer could grow enough food to feed thousands. Coupled with a mage to control weather or one to deal with pests, you could have a handful of people who could feed a small nation. And a small but powerful nation was what Bordain seemed to want: a nation of Elites.

  There was fear in Nate’s chest. He could recognise it. Not fear of Bordain, though perhaps he should be afraid of the man. The purported King of Etrua was a Mythic Class holder. He had not been at all shy about revealing that fact. Potential peers. That was what he had called Nate and Kiri. The meaning had been abundantly clear, just as Bordain had intended. The mountain of a man with his oppressive presence was past his second evolution and held a Mythic Class, a reason he looked down on his family. Nate had seen Morgane’s Classes. She had a Legendary Class after her second evolution. If she’d had a Legendary Class before her second evolution, then she had failed to evolve up a tier. A crime, it seemed, in Bordain’s eyes. Nate laughed at the idea, though there was no mirth in it. Even if he and Kiri failed to evolve up a tier, Bordain would still consider them his peers. The idea was absurd to Nate, that this man, this megalomaniac, would view them favourably even as he advocated for what effectively amounted to genocide.

  No, Nate had no intention of agreeing to help Bordain. And the fear he felt was for something entirely different. Was this what the rest of the multiverse was like? He truly hoped it was not the case, but still the fear lingered. With a part of his mind focused on his painting and another arguing with itself about the nature of societies in the multiverse, he finally caved and looked at the notifications he had been ignoring. Ignoring because, in part, they represented some truth to Bordain’s belief, that you could rise by removing others. Still, just because he was angry at the idea didn’t mean he could ignore the truth that violence and conflict were a part of this new world he found himself in. He ignored the voice that said it had been a part of his old world as well and that he had just been too busy or too naive to see it.

  The first notifications were for his level. He’d killed two High-Golds and it was enough to push his level up.

  Accrued Mana applied to Secondary Class.

  Level up…

  Stats adjusted: +1 Magic Power, +4 Magic Control, +2 Channelling Speed, +2 Mana Reserve, +1 Mana Absorption, +5 Free Stats

  His Intellect was over five hundred now, and while he doubted he could manage a second Stat at that level before his evolution, he was willing to try. With that in mind, he invested his Free Stats into Creativity. Who knew, maybe with a Skill evolution or two and some more Stat Orbs he could manage to drive it to that height and get another Achievement. Perception would have been a better choice, but it also wasn’t integral to his Path like Creativity was. With that in mind he chose the long shot option of getting Creativity to five-hundred. An Achievement was, in the end, worth less to him than his Path.

  Next were his Skill improvements.

  Conceptual Insight 54 > 56

  Multi Conceptual Material Shaping 41 > 43

  Farsight of the Runic Artist 55 > 56

  Conceptual Runic Mastery 54 > 56

  Conceptual Spatial Manipulation 48 > 50

  Conceptual Amplified Magic 47 > 49

  Conceptual Automated Existence 33 > 36

  Conceptual Spatial Authority 32 > 36

  His Skills were all improving across the board due to the constantly shifting tasks he was undertaking, but it was Conceptual Insight, Farsight of the Runic Artist and Conceptual Runic Mastery he had his eyes on. All three were closing in on their next evolution. Farsight of the Runic Artist needed to be aligned with the rest of his Path and become tied to the idea of “Conceptual.” For the other two, he was more focused on pushing them beyond Mythic. He just needed to figure out how to do that.

  His basic idea remained the same as before: to touch upon that energy that made him feel more real and to try and funnel it into one of the Skills on his Class Core. He hadn’t been able to hold onto the energy, whatever it was, but maybe he could direct it as it rushed out of him to the Gods knew where.

  Stepping back, he looked at the painting he had been creating. The other painting in his room had been of Kiri, meant to reflect her Embodiment, or the one she hoped for, Reborn, Rebirth, or perhaps even Immortality. Reflecting on it, he felt her ideal was beautiful. The interpretations were many and they weren’t limited to the idea of life and death but more focused on the Concept of Change. He didn’t think Kiri was quite there yet, but he was confident that was the way she would go, changing and adapting to survive anything. Maybe he was just being whimsical and she would only ever be Reborn, focusing on the transition between life and death, but he doubted he was wrong.

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  If her Path was one of Rebirth, he thought perhaps his was one of discovery. Every time he had felt that rush, that energy within him, it was after he had learned something new about Concepts. Either by recognising the nature of a new Concept, in the case of realising that Princess Morgane’s Embodiment was Resonance, or by gaining an understanding of how Concepts could interact, like when he had seen the Concepts of Resonance and Sound interact in a perfect feedback loop, building on each other until they unleashed a force of destruction greater than the sum of their parts.

  Roving his eyes over his latest artwork, he felt a flutter in his chest. The image was like looking at his soul laid bare. The speed and accuracy with which he could paint still blew his mind, and coupled with his enchanted paintbrush, his most treasured gift from his sister, he could paint without pause. There was no need to clean his brush, no need to dip into new paints or mix them. It was as simple as using the enchantments as the colours flowed together or changed with a thought. His soul, he decided, while beautiful, was also apparently chaotic. He blamed his ability to split his mind and focus on that. His image decorated the middle of the painting, in his Legendary robe, the stars of the night sky upon its silky appearance contrasting against the dark blue that could have been the night sky.

  Around him was everything he loved. His image was creating a painting, a previous graffiti piece of his that detailed a chess board with the pieces being placed back in the box. Both Kings were already in the box. His mind had returned to that idea after the interaction with Bordain coupled with his reminiscing and comparing the world of Galle to Earth. There was also the factor that it was his only graffiti piece that had included his parents and he wanted them in this artwork. It was important to him. Around the painting was a room split both in contents and in nature. On one side was his workshop, scattered pages, diagrams, and materials upon a plain wooden table with a simple wooden chair with a pillow on the seat. Even in his paintings he apparently desired comfort.

  Next to the workshop was the image of a Dungeon, Kiri standing with arms raised in triumph as she stood upon the corpse of a griffin. He loved his sister and had nothing but fond memories of their times together in Dungeons. They had faced only a handful together and yet they had been some of the best times of his life, even when he hated them.

  The next scene was one of a table piled high with food with over a dozen people seated around it. It was not a scene that had ever happened in reality, as the images clearly included Jacque and the kids, his effective apprentices, along with the Britt and the other Guildies. He had even included Jorge and Rania. His friends and family or, at least, the family he had chosen.

  Finally, the last scene was of that place between universes, where colours flowed like water. In that scene he floated facing forward, his own green eyes staring out of the picture back at him with a quiet intensity as various images that were meant to represent Concepts floated around him. An abstract geometric object was meant to represent Space. A flower growing upside down with multiple heads like a hydra represented Life. A perfect blue orb for Mana. A diamond split into four with each section representing a key element of Water, Earth, Fire and Wind. It was a simplistic view of the elements but a view nonetheless. A shield for Barrier, a black knife for Shadow, white armour shining with a sunburst for Light. All images meant to represent ideas, just like what Sigils were for Concepts. A section of the painting just for his Path, Conceptual.

  Stepping back to look at it, he cut off all his extraneous thoughts, all his divided attention, and focused on the painting before him. A painting meant to represent him, meant to represent the things he loved. His art, his crafting, his sister, his friends and family and his thirst for discovery. It wasn’t lost on him that while Britt was in one section, she had not warranted her own. He hated himself a little for that realisation. That somewhere inside himself he had already accepted that she wouldn’t be able to keep up with him. The understanding that whatever they had now would ultimately be coming to an end, sooner or later. Maybe he was wrong and gaining a Divine Class wouldn’t change that much, but he knew in his heart that he was just trying to maintain a semblance of hope. That, in the end, it would come down to a choice between staying with Britt or progressing on his Path. In that contest, the writing was quite literally on the wall. His painting showed that while he might love Britt, she didn’t warrant a space of her own, unlike his Path and his crafting.

  He didn’t bother to push his emotions down, letting a few tears trickle down his cheeks. Sometimes, there just weren’t good choices to be made. He suspected she would understand when the time came, but that didn’t make him feel less like an ass.

  Through his sphere of awareness, he could feel that the time to gather was approaching. Kiri had appeared with Evindal who was now locked in an embrace with Aisling. A mere single tier separated the two of them, something bridgeable, unlike the three tier gulf between himself and Britt. He pushed that thought down, along with the feeling of envy. It was unworthy of the situation, of his mentors and of Britt. Deverell was yet to appear but he doubted the man would be long and Luc was already back sans Ameera and Karim. The pair of talented Guildies were now hopefully on their way home to Gashana, a small success, a good thing done. He focused on that to get his mind away from his thoughts of self-pity. Grieving for something he hadn’t even lost yet, what a cliche he was.

  Tucking away his paintbrush, he cleaned himself up until he was confident he looked more like himself, before exiting the room and going to join the congregating group. He felt space shift within the teleportation chamber as Deverell appeared, broken chalk of one of Nate’s escape tokens in his hand. The Dagger Dancer joined him and they marched into the workshop taking their seats as everyone else joined them, only Jacque and the apprentices remaining asleep.

  Evindal’s amber eyes locked onto Nate’s and the elven lord smiled brightly.

  “We’ll talk after,” Evindal stated, the words a promise and Nate nodded his agreement before looking over the rest of the group.

  Kiri was covered in sweat and, while her workout with Deverell earlier had helped somewhat, his sister still looked angry. Her eyes shone like banked coals rather than a roaring fire but the heat was still there, simmering underneath. The threat against her parents had hit her hard, Nate decided, and that would mean it was going to be one of the topics of conversation in a moment. That, along with Bordain’s offer, Deverell’s findings and Morgane’s own thoughts. The Dagger Dancer had the communication tome open in front of him and Nate could see that words were appearing on the page. This discussion would likely define their plans for the future and so he gave it his full attention. Britt flashed Nate a smile from the seat next to him and reached beneath the table to squeeze his hand in comfort. Whether she knew his thoughts, he couldn’t tell, but he squeezed back in appreciation.

  Aisling, the woman who was teaching him how to lead, spoke loud enough to silence everyone present. Seven sets of eyes flickered to the amazonian Platinum and she nodded in appreciation.

  “You all heard King Bordain’s offer or have been informed of the contents. What are we going to do about it?”

  The question hung in the air, drawing all their attention. Then seven sets of voices all started speaking at once, trying to talk over each other. Chaos, Nate decided. He just hoped that wasn’t Bordain’s goal, but who knew the minds of men with such conviction. He didn’t, not yet at least. But he decided he would. For a Path could not be walked without belief in one’s self.

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