Simon awoke.

One split-second of real time had passed. He couldn't remember it. It wasn't that he'd blacked out – his consciousness just felt so overwhelmed that processing sensory input became momentarily impossible.

In that fraction of an instant, much had changed.

The Ancient One had paused its assault, the cavern dimming as walls of light abruptly vanished. A surprised "Ah." resounded within Simon's mind. For a creature as dead on the inside as it claimed, it may as well have been yelping in shock.

Simon couldn't even care. His body felt on fire, magma injected into his bloodstream, acid coating his skin, every last nerve ending set aflame at once.

Yet it was a glorious pain – a triumphant outcry reminding him that he was alive. It hurt, it agonized, but he never wanted it to stop. All active thought had been overwritten by the sheer sensations gripping him by the neck.

MP: 1000 / 1000

From 0 MP to 1000 in just a split-second. His new Class Advancement upgrade had helped with that, but the Ancient One was more to blame there. It possessed such an absurd quantity of mana that draining any amount was dangerous. Like going for a sip of water and having a river force-fed down your throat.

MP: 2000 / 1000

Simon shivered as his Character Sheet expressed what he was feeling in the only way it could – with an impossibility. His MP couldn't go above its maximum, it had always capped out in the past...but he'd also never tried Harvesting a god before.

The river continued to pour down his throat, drowning him in mana.

MP: 3000 / 1000

It was too much. Most of the excess mana overflowed out of Simon, dissipating into the air, but some remained. He doubled over, his throat closing as his body strained to hold itself together, a cup filled to bursting. It was just too much.

MP: 5000 / 1000

It...it was...

MP: 10000 / 1000

Amazing.

For all his life, Simon had been a planner, laboriously considering what steps he should take next. Despite his self-admitted propensity for risk-taking, he never acted without forethought. How would Statement A affect Person B? How might Decision C influence Outcome D? Everything needed to be mapped out ahead of time – even the basic conversational responses that other people took for granted.

None of that mattered anymore. All traces of uncertainty had fled his mind. The future was no longer in doubt.

Because he had power.

Not the kind he'd gained from being a transmigrator. Compared to the mana inundating his body right now, Level 75 was like a child play-acting with flimsy cardboard toys. This was power transcendent. A glimpse into the realm of fully-formed divinity.

MP: 20000 / 1000

In that moment, Simon understood the intoxicating high of unfettered sovereignty that despots like Helmund chased.

There wasn't a single person in the universe who wouldn't get addicted to this feeling. With this power, he could do anything. Impose his will, slay his enemies, rebuild Valtia from the ground up. He could help so many people. He could–

System Alert: Extreme mana surplus detected! Combustion imminent!

Or maybe he could discharge the extra MP before his body literally exploded.

Regret already setting in, Simon raised his left arm up. Acting more on instinct than anything, he diverted the torrential flood of mana towards his hand, commanding it to leave. Preferably before his guts painted the walls.

A shining beam of light shot forth from his palm. It pierced straight through the rocky cavern ceiling, traveling all the way up to the surface, continuing on until it reached Valtia's clear blue sky.

The beam persisted, showing no signs of disappearing. It would probably keep going until Fell Harvest ended. Like a pipeline that transferred mana from the Ancient One to Simon to...somewhere else.

MP: 10000 / 1000

MP: 5000 / 1000

MP: 3000 / 1000

Simon exhaled with relief as the incredible strain on his body lessened. There was a sense of loss as well – the power had been right there – but boundless mana wasn't much use to a dead man.

Actually, now that he'd brought the influx of energy down to semi-reasonable levels, he was feeling even better than before he'd initiated Fell Harvest. His wounds weren't healing, and his HP hadn't increased, but he felt energized like he'd gotten the best night of sleep in his life.

...What if I...

Struck by inspiration, he diverted another smaller mana-stream towards Katarina. She gasped as she was infused with Valtia's lifeblood, her hair frizzing up as if shocked by static electricity.

Would it help? Who the hell knew at this point. However, Simon didn't think that Kat could survive long enough to reach a healer – not after being jostled around like a piece of poorly-secured cargo as he dodged the Ancient's onslaught. He was willing to throw solutions at the wall and see what stuck.

A curious intersection of abilities.

Dozens of bloodshot eyes grew on the Ancient One's body, their unblinking gazes fixated on the two humans below. I should be impervious to Fell mana absorption. To see it integrated with our counterparts' transmigrator system...you are a true anomaly, Simon.

Stolen essence writhed beneath the Ancient's skin as it fought against Fell Harvest's immobilization effect. Mana-spears appeared in the air, surrounding Simon from all directions, their sharpened tips aimed straight at him. The ground vibrated as a destructive pillar of light began to form underneath.

Your potential must be cut short here. Realities tremble when an anomaly is allowed to flourish.

A weaker offensive than before, Simon noted, his thoughts racing so quickly that it felt like he was overclocking his brain. Fell Harvest is inhibiting how many attacks the Ancient can send at me.

Doesn't mean much when my options are so limited. If I disengage the Harvest to dodge, it'll return to full power. If I don't disengage the Harvest, then I'm fish in a barrel.

Spears of mana shot towards him. Can't move. Have to make a stand. Barrier. Cover as much space as I can...

Searing light burnt the soles of his feet. No. Multicasting is limited to two spells. Two Barriers. Maybe three if I'm okay with frying my neurons. Still can't cover all angles with just three shields.

What else do I have to work with?

Mana, mostly. More than he knew what to do with. More than his body could even handle.

And when you had a hammer this big, every problem started looking like a nail.

Simon shoved a frankly outrageous amount of MP into Channel Essence. There was no finesse to it. If someone had asked, he couldn't have explained what exactly he was doing.

He just knew that Barrier wasn't cutting it right now. Against the all-encompassing wrath of the Ancient One, flat rectangular shields were mildly outclassed. This was an apocalypse given flesh – the fantasy equivalent of nukes falling from the sky.

You didn't protect yourself from nuclear winter by holding a sheet of plaster above your head and praying for the best. He needed...more. Something impenetrable, unbreakable. Something that could wait out the end of the world. A bunker. A shelter.

A Sanctuary.

Simon's teeth chattered violently as he used the Ancient's mana to brute force a new spell into existence. The Sanctuary immediately took shape around him and Katarina – a translucent, intangible sphere large enough to encompass them completely.

It shone with a soothing warmth that stoked the waning embers of their hope. Like gentle fingers caressing their cheeks, assuring them that everything would be alright.

Just for a moment, Simon imagined that he was back at home, his parents embracing him with the only love he had ever known.

This was it. The core essence of protection, distilled to its purest form. Nothing could enter or leave except by his will. Within his Sanctuary, he and Katarina were untouchable.

It also came at a high price – nearly 1000 MP per second to achieve perfect inviolability. Under normal circumstances, it would have instantly wiped out Simon's mana reserves.

Good thing he was hooked up to a battery that wasn't running dry anytime soon.

Spears crashed down, and the pillar detonated underneath. Both were casually turned aside by the Sanctuary's refuge of warmth. Simon and Katarina didn't even feel shaken by the residual impact of spells exploding around them, as if they'd been placed in a bubble isolating them from the woes of the world.

The Ancient One was quiet. More bloodshot eyes grew on its side, hundreds of them, all swiveling down to stare at the transmigrator. Its gargantuan body seemed to lean closer, scrutinizing him intently as Fell Harvest continued to drain an endless deluge of mana.

You did not know this magic before. A hint of emotion crept into its voice, so subtle that it was borderline imperceptible. You...

Fleshy tendrils sprouted from the Ancient One. They stretched outwards, poking and prodding at the Sanctuary. Their tips glowed with an inky darkness that hurt to look at – a stark inversion of light.

Simon's heart skipped a beat. The Sanctuary had flickered, disappearing for a brief moment. He pushed more MP into its formation, feeling a drain on his resources despite the ridiculous quantity of MP he was Harvesting with every passing second.

The Ancient let out a booming roar of muted satisfaction. Rather than the display of overwhelming force Simon had anticipated, it attacked with surgical precision, each tendril a scalpel. It pulled at the threads of the Sanctuary's construction, destabilizing its construction, pulling blocks out of a wobbling Jenga tower.

It couldn't breach his defenses – so it would unmake them instead.

I don't have an answer to this.

The thought came with a jolt of morbid realization as Simon funneled even more MP into his Sanctuary. This wasn't a battlefield he had ever fought on before.

He lacked knowledge of the finer details of magical theory. Channel Essence was a blunt instrument propped up by the system, favoring practicality over in-depth comprehension. He'd been casting spells for all of one month, and Sanctuary for all of twenty seconds.

And he didn't have the faintest idea of how to stop the Ancient One from doing...whatever this was. His limited experience couldn't compare to an ageless deity which had seen the fall of who knows how many civilizations.

He could only expend more and more and more MP, hastily reinforcing cracks in the Sanctuary's crumbling infrastructure. Simon was barely managing to tread water there, staying a half-step ahead of the Ancient's sabotage.

It wasn't sustainable. Eventually, the amount of mana he would need to divert would exceed what his body was capable of handling. He could already feel the fire from before returning, his nerve endings crying out in agony. Nor could he outlast the Ancient, kill it before it killed him – Fell Harvest was draining as quickly as possible, but it was like trying to empty an ocean with a straw.

Can't just play defense. Need to hit back.

Simon launched a supercharged Kill – his strongest yet. It collided with a tendril, erasing only half of the appendage's flesh. A replacement tendril had grown before his spell even faded.

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Striking the Ancient directly fared little better. Its colossal body didn't so much as flinch. The Kill imbued with over 1000 MP had been less noticeable than a slap on the wrist. He tried a supercharged Landmine next, but the staggeringly destructive blast went entirely ignored.

It's too resistant to Fell mana. Even if Simon wasn't a typical Demon, system integration only went so far. Trying to kill the Ancient One with Kill or Landmine was like trying to douse a wildfire with matchsticks.

The Sanctuary flickered again. He was losing this race, and he still didn't have an answer.

Simon took a long moment to consider his options once more. He assessed his resources, re-examined his biases, flipped his perspective around, went mining for gems of inspiration.

Create new offensive spell? No dice. With the Class path he'd chosen, he could only channel Fell essence. The Ancient would brush off any spell attack he attempted.

Refine Sanctuary to cost less mana? Wasn't happening. That would require magical expertise far beyond what Simon knew. He couldn't even fully explain how he'd made this version of Sanctuary, let alone figure out the steps needed to improve it.

What about my other Skills? Anything useful in Inventory? No, and no. Abilities like Power Smash and Grappling weren't up to par anymore. Non-combat Skills such as Eavesdrop and Sin Scry would be actively detrimental. And his Inventory was barren, having been emptied to make room for the mana-bomb container.

I...

I've got nothing left.

Simon had squeezed all the water he could from a dry stone. He'd selected a Class Advancement specifically to fit this scenario, nearly died dozens of times just to reach the Ancient One, subjected himself to an overbearing Fell Harvest that was tearing him apart, invented a new defensive spell on-the-fly...

But he wasn't even close to winning. Two minutes of death-defying valor couldn't overcome centuries of stockpiled energy.

Whether his soul burnt out or the Sanctuary fell, his defeat was guaranteed.

You should have accepted my offer. The Ancient wasn't gloating – merely observing. It would have been a kinder end.

Simon put on the most carefree grin he could muster. "How quaint. You actually think you've backed me into a corner. Now, your last Contract was insulting, but I'm feeling generous, so here's a counter-offer: grant me half of your mana, permanently, and I'll allow you to leave Valtia with your skin intact."

Bravado suits you. Humans can accomplish surprising feats when they lie to themselves. Your month in this world was spent well. If you'd been given more time to prepare for my rebirth, perhaps–

"Simon."

Both he and the Ancient turned to stare at Katarina. With herculean effort, the Arcane Rogue had managed to sit up. Her voice was feeble, scarcely even a whisper–

Yet her gaze was fierce, not an ounce of weakness to be found. Her eyes shimmered with a strange glow, like pools of water reflecting moonlight.

"Keep sending me mana," she said, raising her hands.

An outpouring cascade of flames filled the air.

It was utterly immense, extending well past Simon's peripheral vision. Beads of sweat formed on his brow from the sharp rise in heat. The inferno engulfed the Ancient's tendrils, incinerating them like vengeful hellfire.

How? That was all he could think as Katarina's wall of fire slammed into the Ancient One, scouring misshapen flesh. She doesn't have magic this strong. Even if I'm keeping her topped up on MP, she shouldn't be able to–

The answer came to him in a flash. Wild laughter burst out of Simon – closer to an adrenaline-fueled scream than a noise any sane person should make.

Kat picked a new Class Advancement too.

Free from the Ancient's sabotage, Sanctuary gradually began to stabilize and repair itself. Scorching flames burnt away any further attempts to disrupt it. Fell Harvest gave Simon and Katarina all the MP they could possibly need to maintain their spells. Whatever mana they didn't use was sent skyward, piercing through the cavern ceiling.

They hadn't scored a decisive victory just yet. The Ancient One was easily regenerating its wounds, and the vast hoard of mana inside its body still beggared belief. But its momentum had been completely halted – it couldn't harm them in the slightest.

If nothing changed, it would succumb to death by a million cuts.

You are not an anomaly. The Ancient One gazed at Katarina, its myriad eyes purged by her flames, then regrowing to continue staring at her. Yet this behavior...is akin to one.

Half of its eyes turned to peer at Simon. And you. You have forged a new spell. Retained mana beyond your means. Honed your skills in the crucible of combat.

These are not natural developments. They came from grasping at slim odds of survival. Pushing yourself to overcome an insurmountable challenge. This...

It trailed off, a tremor sweeping through its body. When it spoke again, the concern in its voice was evident.

I am accelerating your growth.

Simon recoiled as a pulse of pressure swept by him. Something had shifted. He didn't know what, but–

An augur of catastrophe has risen. The Ancient One sounded disturbed. The worst outcome cannot be permitted to transpire. Chances still low – yet they were lower before, and have been progressively rising since.

Adjust focus. Victory or defeat is immaterial. Prioritize loss mitigation, preventative measures.

Concentrated mana surrounded the Ancient's body, feeling similar to when Simon teleported from Caelryn to Springwater. It was a twisted joke when you thought of Helmund as an aberration. Your future shall be wrought with devastating change, transmigrator. All that was and all that is will be left unrecognizable.

It is a storm I refuse to weather. This world is yours.

Do what you will with it.

The Ancient One vanished.

Simon stumbled, his Fell Harvest grip no longer supported by the Ancient's weight. It took him and Kat a full second to comprehend what had happened. Where there had once been a titanic flesh-egg of immeasurable power, now there was nothing.

Nothing except an enormous cloud of mana. So dense that it looked solid, and so astonishing that it rendered them speechless. Beautiful, wondrous, awe-inspiring – like the most breathtaking sunset they'd ever set eyes upon.

Valtia's stolen essence. The Ancient One had left it all behind.

An explosion of life and energy knocked Simon and Katarina flat on their backs. As if eager to be free, the mass of mana raced upwards and smashed through the ceiling, streaming out until not a trace remained.

The rushing sound of its ascent was a sigh of relief echoed by the world itself.

Then there truly was nothing. Just an empty cavern with a lingering scent of rot and corruption. Sunlight crept through the massive hole in the ceiling, almost hesitant to touch where an Ancient god had once resided.

As per usual, Simon wasn't given any time to process what he'd seen. No sooner had he collected his bearings than rocks began falling down, pieces breaking off from above. Apparently, damaging caves led to cave-ins. Who would've thought.

He scooped up Katarina and ran for the exit, the cavern collapsing around them. Neither of them looked back as they sprinted up the staircase and into the tunnel, leaving the Ancient's birthing grounds to become a tomb for an apocalypse averted.

--

"What was that?" Marlene demanded, as soon as they'd reached the surface. "We felt the ground shaking, then–"

Her mouth slammed shut when she saw the gaping wound in Katarina's chest. Simon hurriedly scanned the crowd of rebels, locating the healers who had survived fighting Helmund. With a blur of motion, he dashed over.

"Heal her." His voice brooked no argument – not that the healers needed extra motivation. As soon as they saw the horrifying state Katarina was in, they immediately got to work, using the last of their mana reserves to ensure that she lived.

And somehow, she would live. Kat seemed more surprised by that than anyone else, staring in disbelief as her flesh knit together.

Guess infusing her with tons of Ancient-mana was the right call, Simon blankly thought, his stress flowing out of him. The strange shimmering glow of her eyes had yet to fade, which was...interesting, but ultimately irrelevant. All that mattered was that she was alive.

They both were. In spite of the odds stacked against him, he had faced the Ancient One, a nascent god of Evil, the impending calamity of Valtia – and prevailed.

I was enough.

This time...I was enough.

Simon flopped to the ground, keeping an eye on Kat as the mages tended to her. It occurred to him then that he hadn't requested healing for himself. His body was visibly ravaged, and his HP was still low. A perfect opportunity for any would-be betrayers to strike.

If the Hurricane tried backstabbing him now, after everything he'd been through, he might just lose his shit.

Thankfully for everyone involved, Bastian was the first to approach him. "May I speak with you, Simon?" The Swordsman exhibited an impressive degree of tact considering the circumstances. "We have many questions. Perhaps you would be so kind as to illuminate us?"

"Sure." His response came out practically lifeless, like he'd run three marathons back-to-back. Physically, mentally, and emotionally, he was spent. "Ask away."

"Thank you." Bastian nodded. "Now, about the–"

A droplet of water fell onto his head.

Both men blinked. Simon reached up as a second drop fell onto his own head, its cold wetness feeling refreshing. More drops started descending from the sky, first splattering onto the street, then spreading out across the capital city...and then farther still.

The older rebels caught on quickly. Their mouths were agape, pictures of pure wonderment. Some were trembling, and others covered their faces to hide their tears.

The younger rebels just looked around at everyone else, confusion writ plain on their expressions. "What's going on?" a boy asked. "What is this?"

"Rain." Marlene's voice was hushed, reverential. "It's rain."

A drizzle became a downpour. People throughout the city slowly poked their heads outside, their self-preservation instincts overruled by the sight of rainfall gracing Valtia once again.

There was no great jubilation, no uproarious celebration. Aside from the soft pitter-patter of raindrops, not a sound could be heard.

It was the silence of a beaten animal suddenly given food and affection. When presented with an unambiguous good, the people of Valtia could only respond with quiet suspicion. As if allowing themselves to believe in a better future would be like springing a trap.

Yet their suspicion wouldn't last long. Soon, they would learn that Duke Helmund was dead. Soon, they would see the rain visit them anew.

Soon, they would realize that actual change had come to the Severed Isles.

Simon tiled his head up, letting rainfall coat his face. I did this. Me. I made a difference.

He seized that sensation like a lifeline, engraving it onto his psyche.

And I can do so much more.

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