A Novel Concept - A death a day, MC will live anyway!

The three rivals stopped at the top of a tree on the edge of a cliff. This landmark overlooked a valley teeming with monsters. The only time Priam had seen so many beings united in fury was during a protest. The French sure knew how to go on a strike.

“According to the coordinates Laepa and Vysharratchmo... Hum, Vysharratjekto gave me, the tribes’ camp is less than twenty kilometers away,” Priam said.

“I don’t even know how you can pronounce his name,” sighed Jasmine. “What a mouthful.”

“Dexterity,” grinned Priam.

“Mmh. Are we going to destroy these corrupted creatures?”

“I don't think that's the best use of our time,” Kazuki replied.

Priam nodded. “It's paradoxical, but the more time we have, the better we must use it.”

Back in Time was a compromise between surviving his Tribulations and saving his loved ones. Deep down, the Champion knew he could progress incredibly if he used his reward well. To do that, he couldn't waste a single second.

“If the tribes are attacked during our discussions, it’ll be good if we help them,” Kazuki pointed out.

“Then we just pass through... and maybe stir them up a bit.”

The assassin merged with his shadow as Priam leaped into the void. Two wings of fire spread from his back, charged with aether. His skin covered itself in spectral scales as he broke the sound barrier, diving toward the army of the dead.

Less than a second later, a wingbeat adjusted his course, allowing him to skim the heads of the necromantic creatures. Smiling, Priam burst into laughter as the servants of the Necromoon screamed and turned towards him. The fiery trail left by his [Phoenix Wings] was particularly visible in the dark sky.

As a clamor rose beneath him, with the corrupted creatures trampling each other to get to him, Priam called upon Pyro. The Concept responded, overloading his wings and expanding their span to that of a troop transport aircraft.

With a thought, Priam disconnected the feathers created by his skill, letting them fall. A new wingbeat propelled him forward as the flaming feathers hit the ground.

A dozen simultaneous explosions ravaged the ranks of the undead army, plunging it into chaos. The flames created by Pyro were hard to extinguish, consuming bone, flesh, fur, and even the air to spread. As the abominations tried to move away, a gust of wind pushed the flames towards them; Kazuki was fanning the fire.

Event: Necromoon.

Banishment of a corrupted (Tier 0 - common) - Sun point +1

Banishment of a corrupted (Tier 0 - common) - Sun point +1

…

Lvl Up: [Phoenix Wings] lvl 15

META(Focus) +2

META(Endurance) +1

A chorus of cawing made Priam look up. Above him, a murder of crows descended. As he prepared to unleash his Domain and kinetic mastery to crush them, the birds passed into the shadow of a cloud and disappeared.

“Leave me some points,” Jasmine said.

“Every man for himself,” Priam replied, directing his aether to his phoenix wings. The skill absorbed the energy to create new feathers, allowing the Champion to continue his bombardment.

Without a Tier 3 to command it, the army was powerless against the alliance of the three rivals.

The tribes' camp was divided into three parts. The Snaherts to the east and the Gaeserts to the west were separated by a wide road leading to the northern quarter of the Aelbes. At the road's origin, the camp's only entrance faced south.

“It’s well guarded,” Kazuki remarked, observing the entrance.

“Too well guarded just to repel mindless corrupted,” Jasmine murmured. “They’re noting entries and exits and searching every hunter-gatherer. Someone's expecting betrayal.”

“The three tribes were allies of convenience,” Priam confirmed. “Could you infiltrate those defenses?”

Jasmine nodded. “If I disguise myself, I could pass as a huntress and get into the camp, but when the real deal returns, they'll realize the trick.”

Priam was surprised. “Can't you just slip through the shadows?”

“Hard to say,” the assassin grimaced. “The wooden palisades look easy to jump, but it’s like our rampart: there’s an invisible magical barrier surrounding the camp. Since I see few patrols on the guard path, I deduce that their Tier 4s are confident in their enchantments. As I can’t sense the shadows in the camp, I guess they aren’t overconfident.”

Priam frowned, realizing he couldn’t perceive the campfires they saw beyond the defenses. Normally, he would have been able to share the perception of the flames and teleport to them.

“When there’s no obvious gap, it’s faster to count on the mediocrity of the guards than to try to breach the defenses of a zealous architect,” Jasmine concluded.

“In any case, we’re not here to hide,” Priam said, standing up. “At least not for now.”

The three rivals crossed the forest edge, leaving the shelter of the trees. Less than three hundred meters from the giant camp, the wood had been cleared to prevent a stealthy approach by necromantic forces.

The hairs on Priam's arms stood up as his draconic instinct sensed the attention of multiple Tier 3s. Without flinching, he walked up to the gate, waiting his turn behind a group of Gaesert warriors who eyed them with surprise.

When the deer carcass they brought back was declared free from the necro curse, Priam, Kazuki, and Jasmine stepped forward.

“Who are you?” one of the guards asked. From the tattoos covering his face, Priam recognized an Aelbes.

“Emissaries from Oasis,” Priam smiled, turning to the pairs of Snahert and Gaesert warriors also guarding the gate. “I hope Laepa and Vysharratjekto have validated our alliance?”

One of the Gaesert warriors stepped forward, smiling. “Cloudy eyes, fiery hair, misty clothes… Priam the arm ripper, I presume?”

Jasmine let out a snicker as Priam held back a sigh. My reputation is shot.

“That’s me.”

“I’m Gadrick. We haven’t sent the supply convoys yet, if that's why you're here.”

Priam shook his head. “I’m here for something else. Is it possible to speak with Laepa?”

The first adjective that came to Priam's mind to describe the Gaesert camp was “lively.” Their group weaved between tents arranged in a logic that eluded him. The first time Gadrick jumped over a pavilion, Priam thought it was a shortcut. The native corrected him: it was the normal path.

“Watch out!”

A ball flew towards the Tier 3, who stopped it with a chest control and grabbed it. Moments later, two teenagers came running.

“That’s out of bounds, the point is ours,” declared the first.

“No, Gadrick caught it before it touched the ground, it’s still in play!” exclaimed the second, trying to grab the ball tucked under the warrior’s arm.

“Are you kidding me? He wasn’t even playing!”

“Exactly, it’s like a tree stopped it, so it doesn’t count.”

“Did you just compare me to a tree?” Gadrick asked. The question was lost as the two boys were too busy shouting to listen.

Sighing, Gadrick shot the ball into the air. With the power of a Tier 3, the ball reached a hundred meters in seconds. “First one to catch it wins.”

He had barely finished speaking when the two teenagers ran off towards the likely point of impact.

“They don’t seem afraid of you,” Priam smiled.

“Why should they be?” Gadrick seemed surprised.

“You’re a Tier 3? When Laepa, Vysharratjekto, and Eleha came, the teens looked like they were walking on eggshells.”

The warrior let out a grunt. “Gabrielle is always like that. As for the other tribes... Eleha is insane and the Snaherts have a strict hierarchy: your Soul Tier, or at least your power, decides your position in the clan. We Gaeserts don’t care about that; we’re one big family.”

Priam nodded, masking a grimace. He admired that mindset, but it was because of it that Ève had chosen the Gaeserts for her attack. For this tribe, it wasn't just a matter of honor; every death was a tragedy.

A few minutes later, they arrived at a rectangle of packed earth the size of a tennis court. Laepa was there with a dozen young people training.

“Broli, move your elbow! You don’t want to cut off his breath, you want to cut off the carotid’s blood flow!”

The nearest teenager grumbled, correcting his position. Moments later, his opponent’s body went limp, and Laepa smiled.

“That was better. Wake up Timmy and switch roles.” She turned to the rivals and smiled. “Hey guys.”

Priam shook his head as he watched the victor slap his unconscious opponent to wake him up. They were no older than sixteen, yet their training was incredibly harsh.

“Hey Laepa. They’re training hard.”

At their age, Priam would never have accepted being strangled every minute.

“It's necessary for their future survival. One works on technique and anatomy, the other on endurance, then they switch. With the tournament approaching, they’re overexcited.”

Dozens of grunts reached them, and Priam broke into a wry smile. “Yeah, it's glaringly obvious. I just thought the instructors would be Tier 2s.”

“I come when I have time. Training the youth is important.”

“And it strengthens your own foundations,” Kazuki added.

Laepa looked at him before nodding. “True. I didn’t expect to see you here before the tournament.”

Priam grimaced. “There’s a change of plans.”

“Do you have a problem?”

“We have a problem,” Priam corrected. “There’s a Fallen near here. A hostile Tier 4.”

Laepa tensed before exchanging a glance with Gadrick.

“I’ll warn the Chief and the Shaman,” the warrior said before leaping. He reached the top of the protective dome in an instant, using it as a springboard to jump towards another part of the camp.

“As if the necro forces weren't problematic enough… Follow me, please.”

Laepa pulled back the flap of the brown-and-white tent, gesturing for the rivals to enter. Inside, a fur carpet covered the ground, and the mouthwatering aroma of roasting meat wafted from a poultry leg cooking over the campfire. Slowly turning the spit was a true colossus of a man who didn’t acknowledge the newcomers. Behind him, a woman was drinking straight from a jug of wine. The first two words that came to Priam's mind to describe her were "tiny" and "ancient."

Once she emptied the jug, she set it down, belched, and nodded at Priam. "Thanks for letting Gabrielle use the Auction. The herbs she bought saved many of our sons and daughters."

Despite the commanding tone of a woman used to being obeyed, Priam sensed her sincerity. He nodded.

“I'm glad to hear that. It's always a pleasure to help those who deserve it.”

“And to make the others regret their actions,” Jasmine muttered.

“I heard about what you did to Eleha. Not sure she learned her lesson,” growled the giant as he turned his meat. “Braato, chief of the Gaeserts. The old woman behind me is Mama Apo. Speak loud so she can hear you.”

“Repeat that if you dare?"

“See? Deaf as a post.” Braato tilted his head to dodge the wine jug that shattered on the carpet. "Sit wherever you like, kids."

Priam glanced around before sitting on the ground. Kazuki followed suit while Jasmine leaned against one of the tent's poles.

“So, there's an ancient god in the area?” Braato continued. “I knew settling here was a bad idea; the tribes are nomadic for a reason.”

“As if we had a choice.” The cold voice came from behind them, and Priam turned. His draconic bloodline growled as a man with chiseled features entered. His midnight blue hair seemed almost alive, and his deep eyes scrutinized the Champions.

“Ophis, Chief of the Snaherts,” he introduced himself. “Happy to meet our neighbors.”

“Likewise,” Priam replied, using [Acting] and Micro to control his voice. The draconic bloodline of this Tier 4 was so pure it pressurized his own. Worse, while Braato and the old woman were invisible to his senses, the newcomer exerted a spiritual pressure that weighed on his soul. It was undoubtedly a test, but Priam remained unflinching; ever since he had pissed on a god's statue, he found it easier to resist the spiritual auras of powerhouses.

Silence settled over the tent until Jasmine yawned. “What are we waiting for?”

“The Aelbes,” sighed Mama Apo. “They like to keep us waiting.”

With that, the tent flap opened again to let in an elderly woman and a young man.

“What's this nonsense about a Fallen?” snapped the old woman.

Priam raised an eyebrow. “And you are?”

“Gryphe, a Shaman, and you?”

Lvl Up: [Revelation Resilience] lvl 51

MEM +3

META (Affinity) +3

META (Authority) +3

Why ask if you're just going to do that?

Given the shaman's grimace, she clearly hadn't seen what she wanted.

“Priam, Lord of Oasis,” smirked the Champion.

“Ah, the one who ripped off Eleha's arms!”

“She deserved it. I hate rude people.” Usually Priam would have shown more respect to someone capable of killing him in an instant, but this was too good an opportunity. He intended to use this time rewind to gauge the tribes' and their leaders' attitudes.

“Ah, you've got balls, kid,” laughed Gryphe after a few seconds. “Too bad I’m too old to check for real.”

Her young companion sighed as Priam widened his eyes.

“I'm Rohan. On behalf of all the Aelbes, I apologize for Eleha's behavior. We're already searching for a gift to smooth relations between our factions.”

His brain forced itself to forget the old woman and focus on Rohan's words. According to Laepa, the young master of the Aelbes was a prodigy who had survived at least nine Tribulations... And her information was old. Rohan had forfeited Ace II by staying at Tier 0 longer than necessary to maximize his Achievements.

“He'll be your main rival in the tournament.”

Jasmine didn't respond to the message but kept her gray eyes fixed on Rohan.

“I don't intend to judge all the Aelbes by Eleha's performance…” Priam reassured, letting the sentence hang. The implication was clear: it was up to the Aelbes to make a good impression now.

“If you're done stuffing your words with veiled threats, maybe we can start this meeting,” grumbled Braato, inspecting his grilled meat. He seemed satisfied and devoured it in a few bites while the assembly settled in.

“There's a Fallen nearby,” Priam declared once he had their full attention. “A being born from a fragment of a dead god's soul. Hidden in their pseudo-Divine Kingdom, they’re plotting their Apotheosis.”

“And how do you know that?” Gryphe asked.

Priam smiled at her. “They made the same mistake as Eleha; they underestimated the Champions.”

Ophis leaned forward. “What can you tell us about them?”

“I know their name, hideout, agents, and even some of their plans. One of them is to create a schism between your tribes to avoid being discovered.”

Ophis narrowed his eyes. "The recent attack on the Gaeserts…”

“If you're talking about the poisoning, they’re the culprit,” confirmed Priam, keeping Ève's existence a secret. His rival was too valuable to be thrown to the tribes just yet; she was currently exploiting the absence of the Tier 4s to search their tents for anything useful.

A sharp crack startled the audience. Braato, the chief of the Gaeserts, had crushed his stone spit into dust. His anger manifested physically; the air, fire, and even the earth seemed to shy away from him.

“That filthy coward, a Depths-corrupted sow’s spawn... Where are they?”

“Before I tell you—”

Braato roared, and the soundwave crashed into Priam with the force of a speeding train. His eyes and eardrums burst as the warrior rose. When his regeneration healed him, Priam saw the Tier 4 towering over him.

“TALK!” Braato shouted. He was holding Kazuki's spear barehanded and ignored Jasmine's dagger against his left eye.

Priam felt his body break into a sweat for the first time in a long while, an instinctive response to a visceral, primal fear that crept into him. The aura of the Tier 4 was so overwhelming that it eclipsed Micro, leaving him as nothing more than a mere human facing a giant.

He clenched his teeth, summoning his defiance. The emotion slammed into his fear and overturned it. He refused to be intimidated. He would bow to neither god nor foe, no matter how formidable.

As the other Tier 4s stood ready to intervene, Priam raised his hand.

“Gadrick told me the Gaeserts are a big family. As Chief, you're responsible for them just as I'm responsible for mine. Sphinx is my family, and she's a prisoner of the Fallen. If you do anything rash, she'll die. I'm far more afraid of that than of you.” Priam's voice was calm but firm.

The Tier 4's enraged features trembled. The standoff lasted a few seconds before the giant sat down, teeth clenched. Kazuki and Jasmine resumed their positions, visibly annoyed by the situation.

There was no apology, but Priam didn't mind. He preferred a straightforward Braato, protective of his own, to an Ophis who seemed to dominate his emotions. The event, however, reminded him of a key point. Though the clans resembled humans, they were anything but. The men and women before him were aliens, with their own customs and laws. The first of these was Elysium’s law: power commanded respect.

“Where is Sphinx?” Mama Apo asked before the silence became too heavy.

“In their Divine Kingdom—their internal world."

“Sorry, but she's dead,” Gryphe bluntly stated. “You have access to the Colosseum, right? If she's a Tier 0, you should be able to resurrect her if you climb high enough.”

Priam glared at her. “I refuse to subject a child to the Wheels of Reincarnation.”

Gryphe shrugged. “It's not that bad.”

“Easy to say for a fossil who's about to see them up close,” Jasmine shot back.

The Aelbes shaman cackled with laughter.

“Do you have a plan to save her?” Mama Apo asked.

“I was counting on you. In exchange for all I know about this Fallen and even a diversion, I wanted you to save her.”

Gryphe, Ophis, and Mama Apo exchanged glances.

“Your information is important to us,” Ophis admitted. “We can't allow a hostile Fallen so close to our new land, and none of us will refuse the Achievement that comes with the kill. I'd like to help, but unfortunately, my build isn't suited for infiltrating a Divine Kingdom. If the Fallen resists, I'd have a hard time breaking in, let alone saving your friend before they kill her.”

Priam felt his hearts grow heavy. Despite the time rewind, if the Tier 4s couldn't help, then Sphinx...

“There must be a way?”

“... You mentioned a diversion. Could you get us into their Divine Kingdom?”

Priam turned to Braato, who had just spoken. “I'm sure of it.”

It was a lie, but Ève would find a solution—or die trying.

“I can temporarily protect someone by absorbing the damage meant for them,” Braato revealed. “But I need a visual. If their internal world is too big…”

“It's about two hundred meters in radius,” Priam said, suppressing his excitement. “A small forest full of... animals.”

If he mentioned the rabhorns and one of these idiots tried to locate it, Sphinx might die.

Mama Apo frowned. “A Divine Kingdom that size is too small.”

“They fused their Domain with a fragment of their former Divine Kingdom to stabilize it,” Priam said, quoting his phoenix mentor.

Gryphe shook her head. “What Mama Apo means is that even the smallest stable fragment is bigger than what you're describing. It's called a Divine Kingdom, not a divine garden; it's supposed to be vast. They must have destroyed part of their world to reduce the karma between them and their original, out of fear of their killer. They don't want to become the same god again; they want to create a new Divine Kingdom.”

Priam nodded. It was a plausible theory. If true, he could sell the existence of Sumstreh at the Auction, and his killer would likely come to finish the job. What held Priam back was Sphinx's presence: if a Tier 5 came to slay Bastard, there was little chance his friend would survive.

Ophis had a thoughtful expression. “If that's true, then they might possess fragments of their old Divine Kingdom.”

“They gave me a fragment of their former fulcrum to sell at the Auction,” Priam confirmed.

The Tier 4s flinched.

“Did you sell it?” Ophis asked.

A blind man could have seen the greed in the Snaherts chief's eyes. The other Tier 4s were more measured but seemed equally interested.

“I still have the fragment, and I'm willing to trade it.”

Priam summoned his best fake smile as the dragon within him roared at the prospect of amassing wealth for free. It was time to reap some of the benefits of the time rewind.

What could be better than buying ideal upgrades without spending one’s money?

“Anyone want to make an offer?”

Status:

PHYSICAL:

Strength 726

Constitution 1 179

Agility 897

Vitality 1 130

Perception 767

MENTAL:

Vivacity (D) 595

Dexterity 658

Memory 864 (+5)

Willpower 1 168

Charisma 692

META:

Meta-affinity 829 (+4)

Meta-focus 417 (+2)

Meta-endurance 710 (+2)

Meta-perception 346

Meta-chance 274

Meta-authority 228 (+3)

Potential: 14 140 (+3)

Tier 0

Sun points: 1 485 003 (+2200)

[He Who Eludes Death] charge: PRIMED

[Tribulation]: Five Tribulations pending.

Future Tribulations delayed until:

Time: 153 days 3 hours 20 minutes 39 seconds.

Next thresholds: 12 attributes > 600 / 6 attributes > 900 / 1 attribute > 1 200

This arc is already complete on Patreon if you're interested in finding out what happens next!

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