High up, thousands of miles above Haadran’s atmosphere, for the first time in centuries, the Queen of Blood was at a loss for words. She’d just been robbed, her magic assimilated into the ritual. It was such a preposterous thing—people bent over backwards, gifted her entire stellar systems just on the off-chance she might learn their names—and here she’d been robbed by a man who hadn’t yet reached his third decade.

  Lantris was so shocked she didn’t know how to react. Was she supposed to be angry, or impressed? Duncan, at least, knew how he was feeling. The ice-elf was enraged, the veins on his temples throbbing. Lantris was forced to spend a considerable amount of energy to keep her blood in a liquid state. Any more of this and Duncan would seriously mess up the weather patterns in Haadran.

  “That…that upstart, snivelling little brat. Did he, did he really—”

  “Use your magic to enhance his ritual, yes.” Lantris finished for him. “You need to get a handle on your emotions. I don’t think your current vessel was prepared properly.”

  Duncan seemed about to retort, but he told his tongue. It wasn't wise to ignore the advice of a woman like Lantris. He ran some diagnostic magic through his current body, and his skin rapidly paled.

  “You're right. This vessel has a 37% rejection rate. Let me check the records.” Duncan’s frown steadily deepened over the next few seconds, though this time, Lantris could tell the anger actually came from the man himself.

  “Prisoner 103,” Duncan finally said. “Charged for murdering his wife and daughter in a bout of rage. He resisted arrest and killed a further eight empire agents and eleven innocent bystanders.”

  Duncan rubbed his temples. “This was a terrible lack of professionalism on all ends. Terrible policing and the Doctor who discharged him despite the warnings of concept deviation on his medical records.”

  Now it was Lantris’ turn to look confused. She’d sensed something off with Duncan’s vessel almost immediately, but this was a level of negligence approaching betrayal. Criminals slated for execution who were of an appropriate power level were chosen for vessel training—the final use Duncan could get from his subjects who’d crossed the line of no return—but that didn’t mean just anyone could do the job.

  “Wait, Lantris. Did I kill that girl?” Duncan interrupted her musings.

  The Queen of Blood sighed. "If by that, you mean Sleyca, then no, but it was a close thing. Had I arrived a few seconds later, she’d be dead. As things are, it’ll be a few weeks before she’s moving again.”

  “That's some good news at least. It looks like someone's been taking me for a fool. Betrayal… no, this is too amateurish for that, and it's not damaging me in the grand scheme of things. No, this has The Weaver's fingerprints all over it.”

  “Yeah, this does seem like her usual operation. But why? Why choose to get involved? What does she want out of this?”

  “With that witch, it can be anything. Maybe she feels threatened by his pet spider. Or she wanted me to make a really poor impression on the kid. She might be targeting Ezrial's daughter, too. She always did have a problem with the girl. Or maybe she thought I’d get cold feet and spare the boy, and this was her way of getting insurance.”

  “And will you?”

  Duncan considered the questions for a second. “No, my decision there remains the same. Arthur Ward is too dangerous to keep alive, especially with whatever experiments he’s now running with corruption. Though I won't blind myself to other options anymore. Perhaps The Weaver was trying to help him, actually. With my defective vessel, his survival chances have gone up to half a percent in our fight.”

  Lantris rolled her eyes. “I never knew you to be a liar, Duncan. We both know things aren’t going to be so simple.”

  Down below, Arthur’s ritual was nearing completion. The ether density on Haadran had noticeably increased by a few percent, truly absurd when you realised it was merely the by-product of a ritual. It had pushed the planet’s ascension to tier 3 ahead by a few hundred years.

  “How was he able to pull this off on a tier 1 planet?” Duncan asked. “The realm barrier would’ve collapsed.”

  “I guess we’ll have to ask him. I think The Council's holding another meeting as we speak. He's showing unprecedented feat after unprecedented feat. It's no longer something that can be ignored. As much as we may deny it, scholars of the future will write about this day as a realm-defining moment. For good, or for ill.”

  Duncan nodded. “Only time will tell.”

  ~~~

  Arthur watched with bated breath as his ritual neared completion. Unlike Wovan, who had begun life as ten tiny spiders, his new Soul Splinter was significantly larger, and the monster core at the centre of his ritual reflected that. It had grown massive now, the size of a small house, around fifteen meters across. Any minute now, it would hatch and reveal his new home in all its glory.

  The environment for dozens of miles around had already been affected, containing nether and ether at levels more commonly found in tier 3 corrupted worlds. If things were already looking like this, Arthur marvelled at how the completed product would look.

  “Vira, I want you to teleport back to Bastion. Anyone outside the city should return too.” Arthur said quietly. “Things are going to get hairy real soon, and it won't be safe for anyone to be around here.”

  “Viktor, if things go to shit, you’ll be the last line of defence. I don’t think they’ll stoop so low as to attack the city, but I have no idea. Do whatever must be done to survive.”

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  The core began to crack.

  “Now, Vira. Quickly,” Arthur shouted, his voice a little frantic.

  Thankfully, the old healer didn’t hesitate or ask questions, immediately teleporting away. Viktor followed a second later, and not a moment too late. The core cracked entirely and disintegrated into dust. Arthur gasped as he was overcome by a wave of energy, and a litany of System messages bombarded his vision.

  Arthur groaned. His body felt like it was twisting apart at the seams. And what did it mean that his new soul splinter didn’t have a level? Had he failed?

  Arthur was drenched in sweat. He’d failed to unlock a stat. That was incredibly disappointing, though in retrospect, it made sense that there was a limit to how many stats a soul could hold. But still, Dragon's pride. That sounds like it would’ve been incredibly useful. Going by the title he’d received, he was probably all but immune to anyone below level 150. That had been true before, too, but now it looked like it would stop weaker people from even thinking of going after him. What would high investments in Dragon’s Pride have look like?

  That was enough of that. It was time to look at the newest addition to the team. The House of the End didn’t look like much at first glance, akin to a nice detached house you’d find in the suburbs, only it was made entirely from a pitch black material. Oh yeah, and it was on fire. It was all very dramatic, perpetual black flames that looked straight out of hell, but besides that, it seemed a little underwhelming.

  Arthur tried to look at things a little more closely. He wanted to investigate a little more before he spoiled everything by looking at his notifications. Nothing popped out to him at first, but then he felt it. The House of the End was his home. It would never feel hostile to him, but it was there beneath the surface, a switch that could be turned on should he wish it. Keep things like that, Arthur ordered. I don’t want anyone to realise how deadly you are. Communicating with his new soul splinter was different to Wovan, but he received a vague sense of approval. Finally, he pulled up the profile for his new home.

  The house didn’t have stats like normal creatures, which was incredibly disappointing. He’d gained quite a bit from Wovan’s Titan’s constitution. Still, his house’s specs were nothing to scoff at. Peak tier 4 durability was far higher than he currently was, equivalent to the strongest of Titans. Calling his house indestructible wouldn’t be an exaggeration, at least within the Myopan realm, and on the off chance it was damaged, it would recover ludicrously fast. Nonetheless, Arthur hoped the house's traits would make up for its lacking attributes.

  That was... beyond broken, perhaps even beyond the benefits true Territory Lords possessed. And Arthur's was mobile and open to all, not just a specific species or magical affinity.

  Self-explanatory really.

  This was overkill. Just how much of his power could be linked back to a bowl he'd purchased from Ikea.

  Did that mean he hadn't truly summoned his Soul Splinter yet? Arthur checked his soul core, and true to his suspicions, there it was. Damn, I would have preferred it if it were closer to Bastion. It looked like he'd just have to increase his Territory's size until it reached all the way to the city. Finally, he came to the last thing on his Soul Splinter's status page.

  That was when Arthur felt it. The planet itself seemed to groan in pain as beings of immense power entered its atmosphere. Remember, you're just an ordinary house. Reveal nothing. No helping or hostility.

  It was time to finally meet his observers.

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