It was a choice that would define the rest of this life.

Hellfire. He’d heard of this Law long before, had fought against fierce wielders of it—mostly Dark Phoenixes and the like. Its description didn’t do it justice. Fighting a wielder of Hellfire felt like having an anvil dropped on your head. Short and very painful. Sure, hellfire wielders burned out fast; you only needed to survive the moment of impact. But few ever did.

Then there was Eruption. This one was the most balanced of the bunch. It brought the rage of fire but also the subtle blight of ash. Poison and darkness and fire made for a uniquely noxious concoction. It could vanquish one foe or blast through a dozen. It could blot out the skies and make the ground too molten to tread. A popular Law among the Gods of Hell. Often chosen, seldom mastered.

Last, Eclipse! This one he had little experience with. He suspected it was a specialty Law, something privy to a select few Bloodlines. ‘A Law to smother the stars. This Law snuffs out qi and chokes off breath—a law to end all hope. More Dark than Fire.’… Vague. But it was Dark primary, Fire secondary, which matched his Dark Star and Fire Planet best. Usually these Laws were either utter duds or hidden gems. No in-between.

Hmm…

He mulled it over for all of, oh, thirty seconds? Oh, who am I kidding? In truth he knew the moment he saw the three pop up.

[Law Chosen!]

[Great Law of the Eclipse]

Requirements:

[Darkness Law Grade: Medium]

[Fire Law Grade: Medium]

[Description: A Law to smother the sun and moon. A perversion of light. More Dark than Fire.]

He’d chosen Hellfire before. He’d played around with Eruption. But here... here was something new. It tickled him. He knew, at an intellectual level, that speedrunning had drilled some biases into him. The attitude that lives were disposable, that risk was illusory, that high-risk really meant high-reward.

But he still couldn’t kick the habit! Was it the right choice, or did it just feel right? Either way… he grinned. I’ve got a good feeling about you, Eclipse. Let’s have some fun together, eh?

Then he felt like his soul had been dunked in a warm broth. He shivered, eyelids fluttering, his hairs standing up on their ends.

[Consolidating…]

[Level-up!]

[Great Law of the Eclipse]

[Grade: Medium]

[Saturation] 0%

[Rank-up!]

[Demigod -> God]

There was no great explosion of qi within him. Nor did he grow three new horns. An advancement of Dao made very little fuss on the exterior. But inside his soul felt as though it’d gained a new dimension, gone from a line to a plane, or more—a new world opened up within him, a vast Darkness edged with shining silver.

Once he got to the Kingdom of Ur, got his hands on some potent Technique manuals, he could tease out the full extent of his new powers.

For now, though… he opened his eyes. Each advancement of Law, he saw the world anew. In the plane of Law it was like he’d put on glasses that only admitted one color. The reds in Sun’s kiln stood out to him. The darknesses of shadow likewise. But they seemed to him somehow empty, incomplete, like single halves of a yin-yang.

What did it mean to eclipse? It was a perversion of light, an unnatural intermingling of light and dark—or, in his case, the Laws of Fire and Darkness. A solar eclipse left a black sphere streaming white light at the edges. A lunar eclipse was a red moon which gave off no light at all.

He reached out a hand to the kiln. On instinct, snapped his fingers.

The fire went out. No—that wasn’t right. It melted into Darkness. Solar eclipse.

Now he stretched out his hands to the shadows pooling about his feet, to the shadows cast by boughs of trees. Snapped his fingers.

It was like all the world was aflame—flame licking his feet, flames scaling the trees, flames roaring up branches and seething in the garden. He suddenly stood amid a raging forest fire. Lunar eclipse.

Meng burst out the door. “What—?!”

But when she blinked there was nothing there. Darkness just like before, albeit flavored with a tinge of smoke. If you looked closely you could see it sloshing about like spilled ink before it settled.

“What?” said Dorian innocently.

“Oh, don’t you ‘what’ me! I felt that,” she snapped. “Faff about in my garden some more and I will spank you so mightily your brother will feel it!”

“Noted! No faffing in Meng’s garden.”

“That’s right.” Snorting, she went back in.

He grinned down at his hands. What an intriguing Law this was. The possibilities were already popping to mind like firecrackers. He’d need to refine his whole Technique set with this in mind. This would pair nicely with his Yama’s Chains. Ah, Yama’s Chains! A Technique he’d spun up on a whim as a mortal. Not once did he think he’d make and remake it all the way up to Hell.

Imagine if I can convert Darkness Chains to whips of Fire instantly—and back again! Grappling and striking melded in one. And what about my Fist Techniques? Heavy as the night on one blow, a flare blitz the next? Dark for swallowing Techniques whole, dark for dragging foes down, dark thick and heavy and impenetrable. Fire for explosions, bright and furious and lighter than air…

He glanced about at Meng’s cute little garden. So much to test! But it was probably wise to save the experimenting for later. After he got some reference material from the Kingdom of Ur. Not here, at any rate.

Sun, meanwhile, was in some kind of drooling trance. He snapped his fingers in front of her eyes. She frowned at him blearily. “Heh?”

“So? How goes it?”

She blinked. Her pupils contracted. She shook her head like a wet dog, swallowed, grinned. “Tastes delicious!”

“I meant the Dao, child.”

“Oh. I think I got to Godhood. There was this box…” She yawned. “I could really do with a nap…”

“Wait—Godhood?”

She was nodding off. Dorian snapped his fingers. Twice, and harder this time. She jerked back awake. “Eh?”

“Focus! You’re a God now? Which Law did you choose?”

“Err…” She frowned at him. It looked like she was trying, and failing, to see the tip of her nose. A pause. “Not sure.”

Dorian was incredulous. “How in Hell can are you not sure?”

“Who cares?” Sun waved breezily. She burped. “Man… Another few pies like that one and I can die happy…”

“Not yet,” sighed Dorian. “I’ve still got some use for you. Come on, monkey-girl! On your feet.”

Just then, her pan began to glow. They both stared at it.

“Please don’t tell me it’s about to explode,” said Dorian.

“I sure hope not!” But Sun looked concerningly concerned. Then her eyes lit up. “Oh, right! It means I’m unlocking new Jingu Bang powers! It’s been so long… must be tied to my Dao.”

It grew, flattening, thinning, lengthening, shining brighter by the second—not with light, but qi. And a familiar Bloodline aura pulsed out of it. Haughty. Fierce. A champion’s persona. It felt like the Jingu Bang was thumbing its nose at the Multiverse.

This was its original form: a stick of pure red steel, capped gold at either end. Gold etchings ran along its center in a language Dorian didn’t read. Knowing Wukong it was some pretentious poem. Or more likely, now that Dorian thought about it, an ode to himself.

The light vanished as soon as it’d come. Then it started to fill again, from the bottom up. It got past the gold cap, surged a quarter of the way up the red body, and came to a rest.

“No way. It got up to the twenty-sixth Transformation?” whispered Sun. Then her eyes bulged in horror. “Ah, shit—”

She dropped to her knees. Her eyes rolled back, eyelids fluttering, reddening fast. She groaned, frothing a little, flopped fishlike. It looked like she was having a severe allergic reaction.

Dorian prodded her with a toe. “You okay down there?”

“Techniques—Unlocking—” She got out. Then she resumed her flopping.

“Oh, my!” Meng had come out of her hut with a basket of strawberries. She soaked in the scene. “How many Transformations did she jump?”

Dorian searched his memory. A figure floated in the murk, said back when they’d first met—“Sixteen?”

“Where’s she at now?”

“Twenty-six.”

“Hmm.” Meng scratched her chin. “Then I expect she’ll be down there an hour or two. She’s getting Techniques’ worth of ancestral knowledge crammed up her brain.” “So that’s how the Bang works…” Dorian’s eyes shone.

“Only for those of the Stone Monkey lineage!” snapped Meng.

“Woah! Where’s this coming from?”

“I’ve seen that look in your eyes, you little rascal…”

“Oh, relax! I’ve sworn a soul contract.”

“Good. Besides—even if you had the Bloodline you couldn’t wield it.”

“And pray tell—why not?”

“The Bang has a mind of its own. It only serves those it thinks are worthy of it.”

Another intriguing nugget, largely because Dorian struggled to grasp it. The girl was no fighter. Did it fall to her by default, since it had no other living heirs? Likely not. He’d heard tales of other such legendary soul weapons before; they were proud. They’d rather go ownerless than settle.

Curious…

“Strawberry?” Meng held one out.

“Sure. Thanks. Say—you wouldn’t happen to know how the Bang selects its wielder, would you? Is it a test of character? Purity of heart?” Seemed plausible. And the likeliest answer.

Meng snorted. “Of course not. Prowess matters too! And where prowess is lacking, substitute potential. It’s the same with all these weapons. The Staff of Exandria. Buddha’s gourd. Hells—your brother’s Overbow too. All the same.”

“Hmm.” He swallowed. Seedy little thing. Potential, you say…

So he and the stick were in agreement. Perhaps it was as simple as that. Though what he saw was mostly mental, perhaps there was a support fighter to be made of the frothing creature at his feet.

She’d need some molding. And a hearty serving of self-belief. But maybe, just maybe—

“What.”

Meng’s face went blank. Her eyes unfocused, flitting between unseen things in the far distance. Then she snapped back to herself. And there wasn’t the faintest sign of her jovial demeanor now. Her face was a blank cold slab. A Warlord’s mask. Then she sighed, the faintest touch of sympathy leaking through some invisible seam.

“Oh, Dorian dear…” she said. “Who have you pissed off this time?”

“Why? What’s the matter?”

In the far, far distance, an explosion, followed by a ripple of qi. Dorian didn’t think much of it—for all of half a second. Then he realized what it meant.

This didn’t come from within this Island pocket dimension. It sounded far too distant for that. But the aftershocks spread through the portal, to here. Outside it must’ve been orders of magnitude more powerful. Far more than what any mere God could generate.

And more—to set off such explosive attacks within the Swamp of the Damned?! Another one rang out—closer this time. Its owner crossed a great swathe of distance in mere leaps.

Only two kinds of creatures did such a thing.

Suicidal creatures, and creatures so powerful they didn’t have to give a shit.

If Dorian’s sick hunch was right, those Princes of Ur hadn’t been the only bounty hunters Jez sent…

He glanced down at the girl curled in the fetal position at his feet. They had to go. She didn’t look anywhere near ready to so much as stand.

Which was quite the quandary, since he really needed her cloaking abilities—especially whichever new ones she was dredging up—right about now.