Hours later…

  Zane sat cross-legged in the bone-white zone and meditated, feeling the war raging through his body. The uncanny ominous winds blasting him full-force, hour after hour.

  He’d begun to enjoy it, strangely.

  The fallen star core sat not a dozen steps away.

  One heartbeat, two, three…

  His eyes snapped open, and something in his dark eyes seemed to shine.

  He was still swamped in radiation—but it flowed around him now, not through him. Like a white-water river crashing around a stone.

  He stood and strode straight for the core.

  Those fierce winds kept blasting him, stronger and stronger the closer he got, howling in the astral plane. And Zane heard in that sound an element of Destruction. A faint whisper of it—but it was there.

  Still, its power couldn’t seem to touch him.

  It was almost as though it didn’t dare. The way a hound knows not to bite its master.

  Soon he was standing right in front of it. He reached out a hand.

  His skin shivered and cracked as he did, but he frowned and did not stop. He pushed through until he made contact with the stone.

  At that moment, he felt a jolt run through his body, his soul. Something electric.

  A single note rang out in the Astral Plane, like the chime of a gong.

  And it was done.

  Concept Comprehended!

  The Concept of Radiation

  He let out a deep breath, pleased.

  Held out a hand and summoned a hint of Solar Flare. A new aura flowed around it, leaving little cascading cracks in the air, mesmerizing; faint and warbling and mysterious, like an aurora. He knew most of its power came subtly, invisibly, blasting in the Astral Plane.

  Skill evolved!

  Heavenly Solar Flare [Mythic+ (Heaven)] -> Heavenly Solar Flare [Common (Primordial)]

  He closed his fist.

  He turned his gaze toward the ground and let a bit of his domain out.

  Turned his intent toward it.

  Instantly he saw new fissures running through it.

  He knelt down. Gave the biggest seam a tap.

  The ground collapsed in an instant. Disintegrating to ash—and when the shaking settled, it looked like some god had scooped out a canyon of pale earth. You could see how deep the radiation struck—the stone changed as it went deeper and deeper, hollowing out the plate, striking into bubbling bursts of magma thousands of feet down—and beyond.

  He crossed his arms as he examined it.

  He nodded.

  If he could do that with a tap now… he was imagining what he’d do with a full-powered fist. He figured only a handful of Minor Gods alive—maybe a handful who’d ever existed—could stand against him now.

  Nice.

  He shut off his domain. Clamped down the lid, sealing off the worst of the Radiation.

  He would only see its true power in battle. But he’d have plenty of chances to test it once he was out on safari with the Barbarian Sage, braving the Desolate Wastes to get his Sacred Bone. And that’d come pretty soon. His heart beat a little faster just thinking about it.

  It was almost time to return.

  Before that, though, he had just one last errand to run.

  ***

  That night he ate a hearty feast to celebrate—plasma eels and rice bowls and a nearly million-year-old wine Reina had sent him off with, made of some heaven-grade grape treasures—all quite sweet and delicious. He slept well that night.

  The next morning, he made for a garden in his manor. A simple stone garden with a single dais at the center. A place for him to meditate. The runes lining the walls made the space one of the most essence-rich places on Stormhaven. They blocked out all outside fluctuations in the Astral Plane, the way certain sealed-off rooms ensured silence.

  It was made for him to find focus.

  He remembered seeing that one True God Elder carried out on a stretcher earlier, crippled with soul winds. Remembered his Ragnos run, and how those ice monkeys, and that lich wizard, had broken through his soul defenses.

  That didn’t sit right with him.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  It was time for a long-due tune-up.

  He crossed his legs, took a deep breath, and called up the Red Moon Pagoda.

  Its blurry shape appeared in his mind, rapidly solidifying…

  It wasn’t long before he sank into the vision.

  ---

  The Spirit of the Pagoda yawned. Its entire figure was translucent and tinged the crimson of the Red Moon Pagoda. Its form was that of a little old man rubbing its eyes. It hopped off its cot. Rubbed its eyes.

  Ah, it sighed. He’s back.

  It girded itself for the meeting.

  Truth be told, the Spirit had been having a fiendishly hard time coming to grips with its new Master. He’d found Zane to be… something else.

  It’d decided to try a new tack with the man.

  He might be a big brute who seemed quite oblivious to a number of basic things. The value of the treasure he possessed, for one. Or just how unusual he was. The last time he’d come, he’d walked through Emperor’s Might—a Skill that was meant to be hellishly hard to master—in about half a day’s time.

  The Spirit had sat there for a few hours after, wondering if it was the crazy one.

  But now it had some dealings with Zane, it felt it had some grasp of him. It could work with him.

  In some ways, it was a lucky thing the Red Moon Pagoda had fallen into his hands, the Spirit told itself. Sure, he could be rather rough around the edges. But if he was guided right—if he took the Pagoda seriously, and mastered all its powers—he could unlock its full potential. Even take it to greater heights.

  Its legend in the Dragonspire Galaxy could rise again!

  The Spirit brightened.

  Yes—it was plainly obvious that Zane had a… rather mind-boggling… amount of potential in matters of the soul. He could become an unparalleled master of all manner of soul-skills, if he wished.

  The Spirit’s face twitched.

  …If only he weren’t so fixated on that punching business.

  The Spirit wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry sometimes, thinking about it. Why had the Heavens chosen to endow such a massive soul to him, of all men? It was akin to awarding a legendary sword to a man, just to have him use it exclusively for chopping turnips.

  It sighed.

  It just had to nurture him. Yes. Some patience—that was all it needed. It dared to hope.

  Soon enough, the big guy came through the front gates.

  Welcome!

  “I’m here for a tune-up,” said Zane.

  Right, right, said the Spirit brightly. Morning to you too. Shall we get started?

  ***

  The Spirit led him up a long flight of stairs, humming as it went.

  I see you’re nearly at Minor God now, said the Spirit. So you’ve hit Ascendant since we last met. Don’t tell me how long it’s been, I don’t want to know.

  The Spirit added that last bit hastily, and Zane nodded. “Sure.”

  This fellow seemed in a chipper mood today. Now you’re Ascendant, most of this Pagoda’s floors—and thus its unique Skills—are open to you! Shall I give you a tour?

  “Lead on.”

  And off they went.

  First stop was the third floor. Its walls were emblazoned with stylized golden eyes that seemed to watch Zane as he moved. Bit eerie.

  This floor contains one of the most powerful status attacks of its age, said the Spirit.

  May I introduce… the Red Moon’s Eye! boomed the Spirit. Its voice suddenly got a good deal deeper. A most formidable attack—feared the galaxy over. One which made the Red Moon Emperor an undefeated one-on-one duelist, in his time.

  “Huh,” said Zane. Sounded promising. “What does it do?”

  Once mastered, it has a 50% chance of paralyzing an enemy of the same power level. It was with this Skill that the Emperor froze the fearsome half-step True God, Elder Rai of Mount Thundercrest—the ‘Mountain Tiger’!

  The name floated right over Zane’s head.

  The Spirit flicked its sleeves, and a mirage shimmered into view.

  It showed a wizened Red Moon Emperor stepping on a sea of white clouds, dressed in fancy crimson robes, embroidered with gold; standing across from him, floating on a mass of thunderclouds, was a huffing tiger-kin man, grasping sizzling orange thunderbolts in clawed fists.

  Emperor Red Moon snorted—and a third eye opened over his forehead. The color of the Red Moon. He closed his eyes, held out his arms, furrowing his brow in full concentration.

  The air began to twist and tremble. The tiger-fellow looked alarmed.

  Enormous ghostly red chains flickered into being, shackling the tiger fellow in an instant. He tried bucking and roaring, but in seconds the chains had him up to the neck. The lightning-bolts, the thunderclouds, even the fellow’s eyes—they all froze there, mid-air.

  Terrifying, is it not? said the Spirit proudly. It admired the scene, hands behind its back. Even a hegemon like the Mountain Tiger lies helpless in its grasp! With this Skill, no Ascendant would dare challenge you in battle.

  Zane considered it.

  He was pretty sure no Ascendant would dare challenge him in battle already.

  It seemed like a lot of effort just to have a shot at paralyzing someone of his power level.

  It’d be easier to just smash them, he felt. He wasn’t sure what creature at his power level could stand against him anyway. He usually fought up.

  So. What do you think? Speak to me, kid. The Spirit studied his face. …Can’t tell if you’re unimpressed, or if that’s just your resting face.

  “Not for me,” he informed the Spirit.

  A pause.

  …Very well! The Spirit coughed. That’s fine. Totally alright. There’s plenty more Skills to come. The Red Moon Pagoda, might I remind you, is a treasure renowned in this Chaos Cycle. We’ll find something to your liking, I’m sure.

  The Pagoda’s fourth floor featured a technique called the ‘Palm of Crimson Fury’. It let him palm-strike someone right in the soul from up to a half a Galaxy away. Its main draw seemed to be its sneakiness and range.

  Master this one Skill, and you could dominate Minor Gods without lifting a finger!

  But Zane felt he was more of a face-to-face guy. And the learning curve, the Pagoda said, would be a thousand years.

  He was pretty sure it’d be somewhat less for him. But that was still a while. He figured he’d rather spend that time on his Concepts.

  …Alright! The Spirit’s beard twitched. It took a deep breath out of its nose. Tough customer. Fret not. The Fifth floor—

  Zane stopped the fellow there. “I’m here to tune up my shield.”

  Certainly, said the Spirit quickly. We can get to that. But there’s plenty of wondrous Skills yet to be explored. You’ve yet to see a tenth of the Pagoda’s true potential! The Fifth floor—

  “Is it a shield?”

  …No.

  “Please get me a shield. A bigger one.”

  A man only had so much time in a day. He was pretty sure spending it on things like Sacred Bones, or Radiation, made better use of his time.

  He appreciated the offer, though.

  A longer pause.

  If I may, Master, said the Spirit. I’ve stewarded this treasure for millennia. It can do so much more than the mere… shielding… you’re using it for! With its control powers, with its attacks, you could become one of the most powerful soul specialists—

  “I don’t care,” Zane informed the fellow amiably. “I want a shield.”

  The Pagoda did seem to be a neat treasure. But he liked his fighting style now, and sneaky soul attacks weren’t really his thing. He informed the Spirit that he mainly intended to use this thing whenever he got hit by a soul attack.

  …That’s it?

  “Pretty much.”

  The Spirit pinched its nose and muttered a few things under its breath. Zane caught snippets like ‘why do I even bother’ and ‘the Heavens are truly unfair,’ and something to do with turnips.

  He waited patiently for the fellow to finish. By the end of it, the Spirit looked rather deflated.

  Alright, Fine! It grumbled. This way. You’ll want the Sixth floor—home to the legendary peak Heaven-grade Skill, the ‘Aegis of Infinity.’