The infinite white expanse reset itself.

Goddess Liora's galactic eyes filled with gentle and kind pity as she looked at the hero before her.

The memory of what had just happened, the entire conversation about the memory erasure skill had been plucked from her mind.

She was a god trapped in a ten-minute loop.

And Dante was the master of her eternity.

She went back to ten minutes earlier, to the moment where she'd been impressed with his selfless wish for peace.

"Your heart is truly that of a hero, Dante," she said, her voice full of warmth she hadn't shown before. She was completely unaware she was speaking to the man who had just played her perfectly. "To have endured so much, only to wish for a power of peace. Very well. I will grant it."

She raised her hand. Golden light of creation began forming in her palm.

The game continued.

His body was whole, his mana was limitless, his healing was absolute. Now it was time to build his arsenal.

"I have changed my mind, Goddess," he said, his voice carefully humble.

She paused, looking at him with concern.

"A power of peace is a noble goal, but I was a fool to think I could afford it," he continued. "In the new world, there will be enemies. I need the ability to move, to escape, to protect my team by repositioning them quickly."

He looked up at her with desperate eyes. "I wish for the power of teleportation."

Liora's kind expression tightened slightly. "To move freely through space and time is a power that unravels the very fabric of reality. It is forbidden magic. I cannot grant such a thing."

"I do not wish to unravel reality," he countered, his voice taking on a pleading edge. "I only wish to protect my friends."

"What if I am cornered? What if they are? A simple leap, a short jump to a location I can see with my own eyes. Is that truly so much to ask? A power not of aggression, but of escape?"

His framing was perfect. It was not a request for god-like power. It was the desperate plea of a man trying to shield others.

Her expression softened. "A movement limited by your own line of sight... that is far more reasonable. It is a high-tier skill, but your selfless reasoning is sound."

"Very well. I will grant you Void Step. Focus on a location you can see, and you will be there instantly. But be warned frequent use will drain your stamina significantly."

The golden light flowed into him. It was a cool, tingling sensation, like his body was momentarily dissolving into a thousand points of light and then reassembling. The knowledge of how to fold space, to take a single impossible step, settled into his mind.

"Thank you, Goddess," he breathed, his voice full of weary gratitude.

And then he reset the board.

"Lethe's Veil."

---

[Ten Minutes Earlier]

A faint cosmic flicker. A momentary sense of déjà vu, as fleeting as a dying star.

Liora looked upon the hero, her heart full of deep admiration for his noble spirit. He had endured so much, yet he asked for so little.

"Your compassion is a beacon in the darkness, Dante," she said, her voice full of deeper respect. "To wish for a power of peace is a testament to your character. Very well. I will grant it."

"I have changed my mind, Goddess," he said, his voice now holding tactical urgency. He looked at her with a commander's pained responsibility in his eyes. "I wish for the ability to swap places with any of my summons."

"It is a power of tactical retreat," he explained. "A way to preserve my forces and, by extension, the lives of my team."

"To move not just yourself, but your creations... a complex and powerful request," she mused, her brow furrowed in thought. "But your logic is sound."

"A commander who cares for his soldiers is a true leader. To preserve your shield so that it may guard others is a noble cause."

"Very well," she declared. "I will grant you Shadow Swap. You may instantly exchange your position with any one of your active summons, no matter the distance."

"It is a power of strategic repositioning, and you have proven yourself worthy of it."

The golden light that washed over him this time felt different—a strange dual sensation of being in two places at once. The tethers to his spectral army, which had once been simple lines of command, now felt like tangible, two-way paths he could travel along.

And then he reset the board again.

"Lethe's Veil."

---

[Ten Minutes Earlier]

"Your compassion is a beacon in the darkness, Dante," she said, her voice full of deeper respect. "To wish for a power of peace is a testament to your character. Very well. I will grant it."

"I have changed my mind, Goddess," he said, his voice full of grim warrior's resolve. "My magic is powerful, but against a foe like Veyrion, it can be sealed completely."

"I need another path. I need to master the blade. Grant me the skills of a sword god, so that I may be a better shield for my comrades."

"A worthy pursuit," she mused. "To seek mastery not just in the arcane, but in the physical arts as well. Your dedication to protecting your flock is truly admirable."

"I will grant you Asura's Insight. The knowledge of every sword form, every parry, every stance will become as natural to you as breathing."

"You will see the lines of battle, the flaws in your opponent's defense, as if they were etched in light before your eyes."

The golden light that entered him this time was sharp and precise—a billion points of tactical data and muscle memory flooding his mind at once. He felt his grip on Soul-Drinker change, his stance shift, his body instinctively aligning itself into a perfect, flawless combat form.

'It is not enough," he would say in the next loop, after erasing her memory once more. "This knowledge is a shield, but I need a real sword thing.'

So he did it again

"Lethe's Veil."

"I need a technique to end battles quickly, to prevent my friends from being caught in prolonged, bloody engagements."

"Your desire to protect them is a fire that never dims," she would reply, her voice full of awe. "I will grant you Void-Rending Waltz."

"It is a sword art of impossible speed and precision—a dance of a thousand cuts that can dismantle an opponent before they can even register the attack."

The knowledge that flowed into him then was dizzying, beautiful, and utterly lethal. A symphony of movement and death that made his very soul sing with dark satisfaction.

The plundering continued.

A relentless, systematic stripping of heaven's armory. He was a patient, meticulous thief, and the god before him was a vault with a key that reset every ten minutes.

"Lethe's Veil."

"Your selflessness is a thing of beauty, hero..."

"I wish for a body that can better withstand the blows meant for my friends. Grant me a body of that the peakest toughness you can give."

She sighed and muttered "Aegis Flesh."

"Lethe's Veil."

"Your concern for your team is bottomless..."

"I wish for the stamina to stand guard while they rest, to be their eternal, sleepless protector. Grant me Unending Vigor."

"Lethe's Veil."

"You are truly the shepherd of your flock, Dante..."

"I wish for a way to carry more supplies, more healing elixir, to ensure their survival on the long road ahead. Grant me Rift Storage."

With every loop, her admiration for him grew. He was no longer just a hero in her eyes. He was a saint, a paragon of selfless virtue, the very embodiment of the ideal she had hoped to find in this cruel, endless cycle of trials.

And with every loop, he grew stronger. His arsenal of divine gifts becoming a pantheon of personal power.

Then came the physical reinforcement.

Ten times, he asked her to triple his physical strength.

The process was brutal. Agonizing. It felt like his bones were being systematically broken and reforged in the heart of a star. His muscles torn to shreds and rewoven with threads of divine power.

The pain was absolute—a physical torment that would have killed his old self a hundred times over.

But he had his Anodyne State. With a single silent thought, the pain would simply cease. His body would still be undergoing the brutal transformation, but he was a numb, detached observer watching it happen.

And with his Somatic Flow, the damage of the process would be instantly, perfectly healed as it occurred.

He endured the unendurable ten times over.

And emerged a physical god.

"Lethe's Veil."

"Your dedication to becoming the ultimate shield is breathtaking."

"Goddess, my necromancy is a power of darkness. I have seen that some foes are resistant to it. I need a new weapon in my arsenal, a fundamental power to counter those my shadows cannot touch."

"I wish for a core affinity for the mess ahead. Grant me lightning as my ally."

Her galactic eyes widened. "An affinity is not a skill, hero. It is a fundamental alteration of your soul's nature itself."

"To grant you a second affinity, to weave the chaos of the storm into your already dark-aligned soul... it is a dangerous, volatile combination. The two elements could conflict and tear you apart."

"The danger is mine to bear," he said nobly. "If it will grant me the power to protect them, I will accept any risk."

"Your courage knows no bounds," she breathed, her voice full of reverence. "Very well. I will grant you the Storm-Lord's Soul."

"The lightning will answer your call. The thunder will be your voice. You will be a child of the storm."

A bolt of pure white-gold lightning descended from the infinite expanse and struck him directly.

It was not a painful sensation, but one of exhilarating, chaotic power. He felt the new crackling energy intertwine with the cold darkness of his core—a perfect, beautiful, and utterly deadly harmony.

And then it was time for the final, most important piece of the puzzle.

The key to his immortality.

"Lethe's Veil."

---

[Ten Minutes Earlier]

Liora looked at the hero before her, and her ancient, cosmic heart was filled with profound, overwhelming pride. He was the one. The one she had been waiting for through countless, weary cycles. The one who truly understood the meaning of sacrifice.

"Your spirit is the brightest I have ever witnessed, Dante," she said, her voice full of reverence she rarely showed mortals. "To ask for a power of peace after all you have endured... Very well. I will grant it."

He fell to his knees, his face showing profound tragic resolve.

"I have changed my mind, Goddess," he said, his voice a low broken whisper. "There is one last thing I must ask for. One final tool I need to protect my team, not with force, but with deception."

"Ask, and it shall be given," she replied, her voice a soft benevolent promise.

"My face is known, Goddess," he said, voice full of false foresight. "After the battles we have fought, our enemies in the new world will surely learn of me."

"They will hunt me. They will use me as a target to draw out my friends. My very existence puts my team in danger."

He looked up at her, eyes shining with the light of a martyr. "I wish for the ability to hide, to become a ghost in the crowd."

"A skill that will allow me to change my appearance, to become someone else entirely. Not to fight, not to deceive for my own gain, but to draw the attention of our enemies away from my friends."

"I can become a decoy. I can lead them on a false trail while my team moves to safety. It is a power of misdirection, a tool to protect the ones I care for. Please, Goddess. Grant me the power to erase myself, so that they may live without fear."

It was his masterpiece.

He had taken the ultimate tool of infiltration and assassination and framed it as a noble act of selfless, sacrificial protection.

Liora's galactic eyes glistened with an unshed divine tear.

"Of all the wishes I have heard," she said, her voice a hushed reverent whisper, "yours is the most selfless and the most cunning."

"To choose the lonely path of the decoy, to sacrifice your own identity for the sake of others... you are not just a hero, Dante. You are a true guardian."

"A power to alter your physical form is divine art," she continued, her voice ringing with power. "But for a cause so noble, I will make an exception."

"I will grant you Visage of the Faceless. You will be able to alter your form into any appearance you can imagine but only one appearance for the entire life of yours. You can maintain this form for as long as your will holds, and you may revert to your true self at any time."

The golden light that flowed into him this time was strange and ephemeral—a feeling of his own physical form becoming untethered from reality, a key turning in a lock he had never known was there.

He stood up slowly.

The power of a god. The arsenal of a demon. The key to his own eternal life—all now his to command.

He looked at the Goddess, at this beautiful, benevolent, and utterly naive being of light.

The con was over. The plundering was complete.

A slow, cold, and utterly devilish smile spread across his face.

It is time to become immortal.

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