Once James and Elaine finished arguing over the name of their new “operation,” the conversation drifted to other topics. Logistics of the raid. What supplies they still needed to gather. Who would lead the main squadrons, and other things like that.

  Most of it, however, went straight over Isaac’s head. Every other word blurred together with the next, and he had to fight just to keep his eyes open. Sure, the talk about killing the Sandworm had jolted him awake for a moment, but that second wind had vanished as quickly as it came.

  Elaine must have noticed at some point, because she stopped mid-sentence and forced him to climb one of the bunk beds. Too tired to argue, Isaac did as he was told and lay down, ignoring James’ quiet snickering. He would get him back for that later.

  For now, sleep was the only thing on his mind. Well, that and the promise he made to his friends. Now seemed like as good a time as any to keep it.

  Rakin. If you’re listening, we need to talk. And no, it can’t wait, Isaac thought, his eyes drifting shut. Darkness crept over his mind, and within seconds, sleep claimed him for the first time in a while. Rest at last.

  Just how long Isaac had been truly asleep, he had no idea. It could have been hours, or maybe seconds, before his eyes opened again to the familiar view of endless crimson plains. With a sigh, he pushed himself up and started walking, searching for the Overlord Chaos, who, for some reason, wasn’t waiting for him this time.

  For what felt like hours, he walked and walked, passing small hillocks and crimson trees that soon appeared in his path. For a moment, he wondered if this was just an ordinary dream—until he found the meadow.

  A few trees. Bushes dotted with scarlet blossoms. A small pond of crystal-clear red water. And beside it, Rakin, lounging in one of his trademark luxurious armchairs. Another stood next to him.

  “How nice of you to finally join me, kid,” the Overlord greeted, glancing up from the pond. “Come, sit. I heard your call. Let’s talk.”

  Isaac frowned. This was odd. What happened to their usual meetings in empty fields? Was it because he had initiated contact this time? It couldn’t be just that, right?

  Rakin rolled his eyes. “I can hear the rusty gears in your head turning. Don’t question it. I just felt like a change of scenery.”

  Okay then… Isaac thought, taking the empty seat. As comfortable as always. Now how to—

  A light chuckle from the Overlord cut off that thought. “Been busy, eh, kid? Organizing a full-scale invasion. Destroying an Unregulated Site. Planning to kill an Emperor. Not bad, if I do say so myself.”

  Isaac frowned. “Emperor?”

  Rakin smiled lightly. “That’s what we call the Sandworms. Nasty creatures. Even the babies infesting your little Battleworld are a nightmare for seasoned Hosts.”

  Babies? Isaac echoed in his head, incredulous. “Those things can get stronger?”

  The Overlord huffed. “Of course they can. Back in my day, I killed one that could wrap around your entire little planet. That was a beautiful battle. Bloody, but beautiful.”

  Right… For the sake of his sanity, Isaac decided not to question that further. “You know why I’m here.”

  Rakin sighed. “Straight to business, as always. So dull. You really need to loosen up, kid. Even a blood-bearer can’t go on forever like this.”

  “I will be fine.”

  “Sure you will,” Rakin said, amused. “But whatever… You need my help to kill an Emperor and make your little invasion work. I can do that… if you help me first. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. Hmm?”

  Already expecting this, Isaac nodded. “Another mission?”

  Rakin’s smile widened. “Oh no! Nothing so small. A simple mission wouldn’t be enough for a favor this big. No, I have something much better in mind.”

  A chill went down Isaac’s spine. He had a bad feeling about this.

  “And what would that be?” he asked, keeping his voice calm.

  Rakin chuckled. “You see, I have enemies—I know, surprising. Most are ants, not worth my time. Some, however, turn into annoyances I can’t ignore.”

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  The Overlord crossed one leg over the other, his smile fading. “I could crush them, yes, but that would only create a new set of problems I’m not willing to deal with. That’s where you come in, my dear little Host.”

  Isaac’s frown made a quick return. “I’m not following.”

  “Patience, kid. Patience. Let me finish.” Rakin cleared his throat. “The annoyance in this case is a certain family—nobles, by your definition. They have been stepping on my toes for far too long, thinking I won’t bite back. Why? Who knows. Maybe they’re stupid. Maybe they think their backers are powerful enough to stop me. Either way, I don’t care.”

  A bloodthirsty glint entered Rakin’s eyes. “Slaughter is fun, but you know what’s even better? Humiliation, and the idiocy that follows it.”

  Isaac opened his mouth to again ask how this even involved him, but a raised hand stopped him.

  “Duels,” Rakin continued. “They’re a common way to settle matters in our world. The annoyances, of course, won’t accept a challenge from my underlings or me. But if you were to be my champion? They would have to answer the call or admit they’re terrified of a fresh Host.”

  “But if they agree, I’m basically signing my death warrant,” Isaac said. “What chances do I have against someone who has had years or more to hone their skills?”

  Rakin rolled his eyes. “Kid, you honestly think I would throw you to your death? Especially with my reputation on the line?” He scoffed. “There are rules to every formally sanctioned duel. Their champion must be of a similar level to yours.”

  “Only level?” Isaac pressed, his mind going to all his skills, ultimates, and other power-ups.

  “Only level,” the Overlord confirmed. “But no worries. You are a blood-bearer, aren’t you? You can win. It will take a few days to organize the duel anyway. You have time to prepare.”

  Isaac wanted to laugh. A few days? How were a few days of training supposed to help against someone who lived in the Integrated Universe their whole life? Sure, his blood boiled at the thought of fighting a Host like that, but he forced himself to be logical.

  This was no better than charging straight at the Emperor alone. A deathwish. He told the Overlord as much, earning another scoff.

  “Did I ever say the duel would be to the death? No. I will be very, very disappointed if you lose, but you will keep your life.”

  Isaac blinked, the fight draining out of him. “Sorry. I just assumed.”

  Rakin waved him off. “No matter. Just tell me if you’re in. A single duel for my assistance.”

  For a moment, Isaac’s eyes closed. When he first arrived here, he had expected to leave with another Patron mission. Something difficult, but also something he could complete in a few days, if not quicker. How wrong he was…

  A duel… against someone who isn’t even fighting in the Virus Wars.

  He couldn’t lie; it had him curious. And without the risk of dying, he couldn’t really find it in himself to refuse. The only real risk was losing Rakin’s support if he failed. Though that could also happen if he refused this offer.

  Ah, to hell with it, Isaac thought, meeting the Overlord’s eyes. “I will do it. Assuming you can actually help me with my plans.”

  Rakin laughed, clapping his hands together. “Wonderful! Truly wonderful. Oh, I can’t wait to see their faces when you beat their champion. I need to prepare my camera!”

  The laughter continued for a moment. Then, the Overlord’s expression hardened.

  “As for my part of the deal… tell me, have I ever underdelivered on my promises?”

  Isaac shook his head.

  “Exactly,” Rakin said, grinning. “So trust me when I say the gift I have prepared will help you not only in this round of the Fusion Wars, but in the next ones as well.”

  Isaac nodded. “Then I will do my best to win.”

  “I’m sure you will.” Rakin rose to his feet, his grin widening. “Ah! This is the beginning of a beautiful partnership, kid. Alas, while I wish we could talk longer, it seems you’re waking up. You shall hear from me soon.”

  Without a warning, darkness swallowed Isaac whole. Sleep followed soon after.

  Back in the lands of crimson, Rakin smiled as he watched ripples spread across the pond before him. He was about to leave when he sensed a presence behind him.

  “Narin,” he muttered. “What a surprise. You usually refuse to come here.”

  His right hand, the one he trusted most in this cursed universe, stopped next to him. Her expression, like always, remained calm and collected.

  “I know what you’re planning, sir,” she said, her eyes fixed on the distant crimson fields. “Is it really wise? To give him the Scar?”

  Rakin followed her gaze. “You tell me. Is it?”

  “The ripples this will cause... If he manages to awaken it…” she muttered. “Almost all your careful planning would be for nothing.”

  He hummed. “If the Scar awakens, my plans don’t matter anyway. Besides, the seals will break sooner or later anyway. The nature of the Mystical World cannot be restrained forever. This way, at least, we might have it on our side.”

  “It’s a gamble,” Narin said quietly. “Even for you, Rakin. What if it doesn’t work out? What if he uses the Scar to destroy us? Destroy everything you and the others have built?”

  Ah… using my name. You must really be worried, he thought, casting her a sidelong glance. Always trying to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.

  A sigh slipped past his lips, his gaze once more on the only view that still reminded him of home.

  “If that happens,” he began. “Then so be it. Every dynasty is fated to fall eventually. Just as we replaced those before us, the time will come when new blood replaces us, too.” He met her eyes and smiled faintly. “But I doubt it will happen. I have a really good feeling about that kid.”

  After that, silence followed as they stared at each other. Finally, though, Narin averted her gaze.

  “The others…” she whispered. “They will try to kill him before he can grow too strong.”

  She was right, of course. If a Scar were to awaken, Isaac would never know peace again. But was it really a problem? Rakin didn’t think so. Not for a blood-bearer at least.

  “Let them,” he said at last. “They will try… and they will fail.”

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