Blue skies.

After a day spent deep beneath the earth it was a gift to see clouds and open air once again.

Nic grinned broadly as the sun beamed down on him, every bit content with the simple pleasure of gazing up into an open sky. The Eight-Eyed Mantle wasn’t warning him of anything nearby, so he happily flopped onto his back, spreading out his arms to make sand angels.

The island he’d emerged into hung in the sky above the desert. Enormous flocks of birds sailed through the air not far overhead. They landed among tropical palm trees and dove to chase fish in the water below.

The sky islands were threaded alongside a massive river that extended through the air like a weightless ribbon of water. In the sunlight it sparkled, creating strange reflections on its surface. In the distance Nic could just see the great temple that was the goal of this entire Dungeon.

The first person to sail a ship there through all the islands would have the pleasure of taking first crack at the boss.

For now though, Nic was far from rushing ahead. He relaxed, taking in the sight of the small island where he’d landed. Broad green ferns covered the earth, surrounding a sandstone shrine that extended up as the island’s only real feature, starting as an uncarved pillar of stone from which a statue of a goddess gradually emerged, with outstretched arms and flowing hair.

Little lizards scurried through the sand. Up here, where there was plenty of water, the land was still a desert - but it was unmistakable more alive. He let Redjaw, Sunfire, and Inkspur free from his tattoos, watching them chase along the ground hunting for tasty morsels.

The feeling in his heart was calm and contemplative.

He was glad he could still find easy moments of happiness like this. Killing turned some people into wild animals; he’d known too many would-be warriors who ended up that way back in City d23. They would get some small taste for violence and spend the rest of their days pacing about restlessly, starting stupid fights, never trusting anyone.

The irony was, they’d only killed two or three people. By now Nic had far more blood on his hands than any of those petty thugs.

But it didn’t change him in the same way. The difference was, those people had always been afraid once they discovered how easy violence was. Afraid someone would do the same to them in turn.

Nic…

Nic had already accepted he’d probably die in exactly that way. Some battle would go wrong, or he’d simply meet overwhelming force.

It didn’t fill him with any fear to think about. If there was anything he feared, it was wasting his life, being as small and insignificant as he’d felt back in that city. Endless days studying runes or working with the blade just in the hopes of being seen by the powers that be.

Endless nights spent knowing it might mean nothing.

Now that he had purpose in his life, a new horizon to chase, that fear was finally beginning to fade. The memories were still painful, but he could face them without flinching. It was like an old wound finally healing into a scar.

Right then, he felt light-hearted and free, able to think clearly about his past and his future…

It was almost too good. And Nic never trusted ‘too good’ to be true.

“Sofia? Is… something off here..?” He asked.

“You’re not in any danger.” She replied precisely. “But there is a spiritual environment here that’s affecting you. I’m glad you noticed on your own. It’s that statue, there.”

Instantly Nic rolled onto his belly and grinned up at the statue of the goddess. “Sooo… you’re saying if I pillage this shrine, I could feel this way anytime?” It was a good feeling. Like everything bad in the world was distant and toothless. He could still think clearly, in fact, he thought more clearly than ever; all the mental pressure that would blind him or cloud him up with anger was gone.

“No! That is…” He could feel Sofia’s annoyance. Just like she could feel his amusement. “You couldn’t take the whole statue even if you tried, so it’s a null point.”

“I don’t need to take the whole thing though, really. Look, I bet you the whole statue isn’t magic. There’s probably a smaller device hidden inside.”

“Oh? And you’d go breaking apart shrines like pinatas if I didn’t stop you, I imagine. As a matter of fact, the whole statue probably is magic. This isn’t the cultivation of the System, born of devices and treasures. It’s something older than that. Thousands of years of primitive worship building up to imbue the shrine with a Concept of divinity.”

“Iiinteresting.” Nic slid onto his feet and moved over to the statue, running his hand along the pedestal of sandstone and trying to feel the energy within. There was something there - but it wasn’t Essence. "So anything can become a god, if enough people believe in it?" He already knew Concepts demanded something between belief and understanding, a kind of iron convinction, but he'd assumed it had to be internal. If other people believing in you could lend you power...

"It would take millions of years or billions of people for you to gather enough Conceptual energy to ascend. And if you did, your devil heritage would consume the divine power and run rampant within you, likely turning you into a mad beast." She paused. "And, if that doesn't convince you, you should know that you'd need to believe in your own divinity for it to work. I don't think I've let your ego get that out of hand."

"Hey, what ego? I'm very humble. For instance, when I rule this planet, I won't make anyone call me highness or your majesty." Nic replied, grinning. So it was possible. Not likely, and from the sounds of it, dangerous.

But it wasn't necessarily becoming a god that was on his mind. "So if you have people relying on you - say a settlement - could that become a Concept?"

"Well spotted. Yes, it could, and you've shown a willingness to defend the weak that tells me your internal self is likely compatible with such a Concept. But, Nicolas, I hesitate to say more. Seeking internal Concepts is known to be tricky. If you actively chase a specific one, you might warp your self-image, becoming obsessed or despondent or confused. They're simply too tightly wound to the core of your being for you to pick and choose."

"If you want to expand your Concepts, look to the world outside yourself. Seek the nature of the elements and the land around you."

Nic nodded slowly, taking it in. Just to see if anything happened, while he was in a playful mood, he dug his fist into the sand and let it pour out between his fingers. Watching the ribbon of dust unfold, he tried to see something of deep and spiritual significance in the dust of a dead world.

There was nothing.

He sighed and threw it away. As the sand swirled through the air, it briefly caught in place, as if landing against something invisible. For a moment, the temples and towers of an ancient city materialized in the swirl of dust.

Nic blinked. “What was that?”

“The seed of something.” Sofia said. “But if you chase it too hard, you risk losing it.”

He shrugged. It seemed like all this spiritual stuff worked that way. If you knew precisely what you were looking for, you’d never find it.

Instead he settled down into the lotus position and closed his eyes.

As he began to practice the simple technique Sofia had taught him, conjuring a light of pure aura in his cupped palm, Nic considered the battle.

He hadn’t made any true errors that he could see. But all the same, he’d nearly died twice.

The first time was when the ape-like sand devil had surprised him with its teleportation trick. That had let the incredibly strong beast lock him in a grapple, and without the featherflight arrows, there would have been no escaping that grip.

His reaction time was fast enough that he didn’t think it was his speed that was lacking. Instead, Nic needed a better way to escape once he was caught.

The second time had been less one mistake and more a death of a thousand cuts. Letting the lantern lift from his hands and float above his shoulders, Nic rose to his feet and began to practice.

He swept the air with his foot and punched forward, shadow-boxing, and tried to replay the exact movements of the fight as he darted across the sand.

The second battle had opened with the Puppetmaster sand-devil distracted him from the queen and leading him on a chase. If he’d been able to catch up to the long-legged creature before it led him into the ambush, that would’ve changed everything.

But once he was surrounded by all three, he’d had to rely on the overpowering strength of his Warform.

They had simply been too good at fighting as a group, intercepting and deflecting his attacks before he could finish off any one of them. It had been a frustrating fight…

Movement. His weakness was movement. He had raw speed and agility, but nothing to help leverage them. The best he could do was infuse aura down into his legs and take off like a cannon shot.

Range. If he had better options for striking at a distance, he could play a very different game when confronted with multiple enemies. The bow the elves had made him did help a little…

But he was envisioning something different. He lifted a stone and flung it forward, making it ricochet off a nearby tree-trunk. Birds shot into the air as the tree shook back and forth.

A throwing knife. Simple, flexible, and he could draw it from his hip and throw in a single movement if he needed to extend his range.

The light was still hovering above his shoulder. He’d gotten better at creating and maintaining them. Lifting up his hand, Nic conjured another into the air, letting it drift above his palm. It was smaller and weaker than the first, but progress was progress.

The end goal of the training was to conjure a light for every acupoint in his body, and link them together until they formed a complete diagram of his meridian lines. That way, he could examine himself if his ability to conduct aura was ever damaged.

A simple training technique that could become a medical tool once its original purpose was done.

It was actually pretty ingenious how cultivators had refined every part of the process. Thousands of years of clever people making little innovations. Cultivating…

It was becoming a part of history, in a way. Taking on everything left by those who came before you and trying to carve your own way with it. Even all the graverobbing and looting, if you looked at it just right and relaxed your morals a smidge, was a form of learning from the past.

So why did the System try to hide the stories of those who’d fought and died to leave to a mark on the face of history?

He let out a sigh, unsatisfied, and threw himself back into the shadowboxing with redoubled strength. His blows made the air shake, his footsteps sending the sand exploding upwards. Nic was stronger than he’d ever been. Tomorrow, he’d be stronger still.

But he was still fighting to see the shape of the mountain he was climbing.