“In summary, you don’t know how long this world of ice and snow will ice, nor do you know when your consciousness will give out and you’ll return to dreaming in eternity again.” Risti folded her arms. “That right?”

“Essentially, yes. Therefore, whatever we do, we must ensure that you and the future of humanity has a way forward that does not depend on me,” Claud replied. “Humanity must inherit part of the Aeon Span and the Cosmic Egg, and—”

Claud felt his head throb as he said those words. He couldn’t remember what this Aeon Span or the Cosmic Egg was, but he knew that it was the final key to something important. The Fourth Godsfall would be complete once something happened to it, but as to what that something was, he had no idea.

“You alright?” Risti asked.

“Yeah. Just…we might not have much time left.” Claud shook his head. “Who’s the strongest folder we have, barring me?”

“I’m a hexa-folder,” Risti replied. “There’s a whole bunch of hexa-folders too, but that’s pretty much it. None of us have completed our seventh mana circuit, and we’re using our lifespan to help the younger ones.”

“Using their lifespan?” Claud asked, curious. “Why would they do such a thing?”

“To pass the torch. The ones in my generation, like Daybreak, have restricted themselves to the last one hundred years of their life. Most of their lifeforce has been passed down to the most qualified person in their family,” Risti replied. “To the people who still had the will to struggle and fight. It is an implicit rule that the moment someone loses the will to fight outside the city, they are to pass down the bulk of their lifespan and enter long-term hibernation.”

“…How do they pass down their lifespan?” Claud asked, glancing at his status.

“There’s something that extracts one’s lifeforce and channels it to other people,” Risti replied. “Sadly, it’s incapable of bringing back the dead, so don’t think about wasting your lifespan on something like that. You probably only have a century or so left, after all.”

“Point,” said Claud. “One thing, though. I actually have nearly a million years of lifespan.”

“I knew it…wait. Sorry. Did you say a million years?” Risti eyed him, patting her ears at the same time. “I thought you said something as outlandish as a million years—”

“Yeah, it’s actually nearly a million. To be exactly, it’s 998395 years,” Claud replied.

“How is that possible?” Risti asked. “Nearly a million years…why, someone from the First Godsfall could persist all the way to the present era with more than enough to spare! What did you eat? Or did you come across some super-big lifestone that had so much lifeforce in it?”

“I’ve no idea how that’s possible, but maybe I took in free lifespan from the other Bearers of Destiny,” Claud replied. “Remember I lost my memory, alright? I’m sure it has something to do with the Bearers of Destiny, though.”

“Bearers of Destiny, huh.” Risti had a nostalgic look on her face. “I haven’t heard about them ever since the great battle above Rimestar. It’s…so nostalgic.

“What happened?” Claud asked. “I thought they would be more active.”

“The surviving Bearers of Destiny vanished from the face of the world. The Moons and the Dark’s Bearers of Destiny disappeared long before that, even…and the ones belonging to the Coloured Gods were wiped out by you,” Risti replied. “If the rest died, it would all be over, right?”

Claud pondered. If he were to rush out now and off the remaining Bearers of Destiny, that would also complete his quest, right?

A spike of pain ran through his face as a primordial will surged out from his chest, and Claud grimaced. The Frozen Emperor — the him who had lived two hundred years in mourning and in pain — had taken a fancy to the bloody plan that he’d thought about for a moment. Cautiousness, fear, planning…all this was nothing compared to the raw feeling of bloody vengeance for a loved one killed.

Claud wrestled with that primordial will, but the instant he came into contact with the Frozen Emperor’s desire, he knew that overcoming the Claud hardened by two centuries of sorrow and bitterness was impossible. His mind raced madly, and Claud muttered, “First, we don’t know where the enemies. Second, they’ve had two centuries to shore up their defences. Third, you can’t be the only one who had the idea, but the other three sides haven’t made a move. Fourth, even if we strike, we’ll only be able to take out one side at most before the others are prepared.”

The raging storm in his heart abated of its own will, but not before leaving a desire for vengeance behind.

“Claud?”

“I’m fine.” Claud grimaced. “These two hundred years have created a personality that hungered for violence. That’s all.”

He gasped once, and then took a breath. Refocusing on the main point, Claud said, “I have nearly a million years of lifespan. Five thousand and five hundred years are needed to bring a non-folder up to their ninth circuit. How much lifespan do I need to give away?”

“It’s not that efficient. A fifth of the lifespan given through that machine would be disseminated into the surroundings. After some time, they’ll recondense as lifestones, but the purity would be far lesser,” Risti replied. “But for someone with this much lifespan…”

As she mused on, Claud found himself wondering about this entire tutorial and the way it was set up. This was supposed to be a trial; there was supposed to be something of difficulty included in it. Sure, his own trial was extremely irregular, but…this felt like the whole thing was handed to him on a platter.

The Omen has descended.

Claud thought about that single message that had popped up right before his trial began, and then checked his status once more. The original skill, Omen, had been upgraded to Omen of Entropy.

[Omniscience (False) has been forced into hibernation by the power of entropy.]

A slightly different message popped up this time when he looked at his other skills. Clearly, Omen of Entropy was the reason behind one of his other skills malfunctioning, and to make matters worse, he didn’t know what that skill did either. That said, he had never heard of a skill that actively disadvantaged its owner, but…

“Claud? You listening to me?” Risti asked.

“Yeah, I’m listening.” Claud folded his arms and nodded. “But are you sure you want the younger ones to take the trial instead? What if they fail to take on the Second Tutorial?”

Risti paused, and then smiled. “Claud, we can’t. Me and the others of the same generation…there’s a reason why we’re so feeble and why we’re passing down our lifespan to our successors.”

“What’s the reason?” Claud asked.

“We couldn’t get past the Third Tutorial,” Risti replied. “And that took a big chunk out of us. When one fails the Second Tutorial, they get to retry over and over again, but you only have one chance at the Third. Fail, and you’ll be shut out forever. At the same time, your lifeforce will be hollowed out.”

“Hollowed out?” Claud repeated, curious.

“I’m not sure how to describe it to you, but I’m essentially bedridden as a result,” Risti replied. “My soul is spent, and my lifeforce a flickering flame on a huge candle. My lifespan is there, but I force myself to wake up day in and day out.”

She paused. “Am I dying? That’s hard to say, to be honest. I’m not, but living is a chore, and I really just want to close my eyes and let it go.”

Risti repeated the last three words in a sing-song voice, before shaking her head. “I’m tired. It’s been a long time, and I’ve been struggling to keep the light burning.”

“Hang on a bit longer,” Claud whispered. “I’ll…no, we’ll set things right, the best way we can, and we can finally depart from this horrible life. I’m sure the others will welcome you when you cross over, and…”

“What about you?” Risti asked.

“Me? I’ll stay, until as such time my sorrow melts. I don’t know how long it’ll take, nor the outcomes of my actions.” Claud shook his head. “Maybe, when this bout of lucidness ends, I’ll return to my throne and watch over her for all eternity. After all, as long as I remain alive, the Aeon Span cannot be complete.”

“Bearer of Destiny…”

Claud nodded.

“What number are you anyway?” Risti asked. “Only the Fourth, the Ninth, the Twelfth and the Thirteenth remain, so you have to be one of them.”

Claud froze as that question echoed in his head over and over again. He checked his status, but unless there was a spelling error in the rendition of his Absolute Skill in his status, FiBoD, there was no way he was the Fourth.

“Fourteen Bearers of Destiny, but thirteen of them are bound to a divinity,” Claud muttered. “But what number am I?”

“What are you talking about?”

Claud looked around her room, and then decided to write on the air with his mana. “This is the skill as it is named on my status.”

FiBoD.

The two of them stared at the acronym for a moment, and Risti shook her head. “That’s odd. Maybe the Fifth’s the one that’s alive? Or the First? Never mind. I’ve forgotten, and none of us here are interested in keeping count. At any rate, this isn’t that important. We’ll need to get started on work…are you staying the night?”

“I suppose so.”

“I’ll get that Aurelia to lead you to your chambers, then. I’ll only wake after noon, so feel free to laze around until then,” Risti replied, a hint of dismissal in her words.

Claud nodded and turned to leave, only to pause a moment later. “Right. Did you ever find out what happened to Princess Dia?”

Risti looked back at him and shook her head.