Tree of Aeons

Chapter 365. Hero

Year 343 (continued)

Erasian Core Worlds

"Do not gaze at the Lord Reviver's body!" The Descendants declared, but the entirety of the five core worlds were in panic. The streets were empty as the dwarves tried to stay under covered roofs and beneath skyless tunnels.

But now the entirety of five dwarven worlds were filled with rumors. The reality of Lord Reviver's body was a truth so real that the Descendants' mind alteration could not hide any longer. Together, with the rumors of a traitor within the Descendants and propaganda that the Descendants had been falsifying their faith for the past few millennia, large populations of dwarven thinkers, warriors, and crafters questioned their beliefs. 

 With the help of newly freed Erasian priests, these dwarves helped spread new thoughts and the truth. 

After all, how could that monstrous creature in the sky be their god? It didn't look anything like the gods described in those false scriptures.

So, while Jorkun and the rebels helped win over the dwarven populace on the other four core worlds, my trees stalked the Descendants in their homes, and I observed them discuss the matter. Things that they wanted to keep close to their hearts. 

"Has our forefathers' plans failed?" Some asked the domain holders. The domain holders like Zam-Zaqa had no real answer, so they misdirected.

"No. This is part of the plan." Zam-Zaqa answered, but even the most loyal of Descendants could tell he was not truthful. 

The paranoid became more paranoid. 

“Why are we not immune to the Lord Reviver’s abilities!” More than one of the Descendants countered, and there was a growing suspicion that perhaps they too, were just pawns in a great game of the old gods. 

To their credit, most of the Descendants recovered from the curse’s effects within a few days, and the Descendant Priests were quick to realize how the dwarves healed their fellow dwarves and used similar faith-based abilities to help their own.

Even so, doubt was such an insidious thing.

"But I thought the Lord Reviver will only return when it is fully awake. Why has the great void mass dispersed?" A medium ranked Descendant who was supposedly around level 120 to 140 according to DoDa estimates, challenged Zam-Zaqa during an internal discussion.

“We will look into it.” Zam-Zaqa answered, but it was a response that satisfied no one. Zam-Zaqa ruled with an iron fist, when the fist didn’t have a good response, things would slip through the gaps. 

"Our ancient foes are coming for us! They have found a way to destroy the barrier! They will invade us soon!" The uncertainty sowed doubt. Doubt festered into worries and fears, which spawned a flood of rumors. 

Some Descendants drowned in their fears, and behaved erratically.

In numerous meetings behind closed doors, Zam-Zaqa stood amongst his so-called peers and servants, and yet he had no real answer. 

After a few meetings where his attempts to paper over those fears went nowhere, he eventually resorted to force. "There is nothing wrong. We will overcome this. Anyone who disagrees and does not believe in Lord Reviver and our ancestor's plan can come and see me, and I shall deliver an education."

I could tell that the Descendants begrudgingly accepted their leader’s answer, but the murmurs continued. 

There was no faith in their leader, or their god.

Not when the dwarves around them began to see them differently. Not when even the regular Descendants crumbled at the sight of their so-called god. For all the power they claimed to have, regular Descendants also could not withstand the giant leviathan's powerful aura.

Thus, the Descendants themselves split into a schism. 

Those that wanted to follow the old plans set out by their predecessors. Those who believed that this current issue was nothing more than a distraction. That they just needed to stick to the plan. ȓÁＮȰꞖЁ𝒮

Then, there were those amongst the Descendants who believed that the winds were changing. That Lord Reviver's return would also consume them, and they did not want to be on the losing side. 

A schism Ally and the rest of us would happily exploit.

***

Every now and then, a ludicrous idea emerged.

Alka stopped as he digested the proposal that came from Allana.

"You thought of this?" Alka stared at the woman and her team. They were all part of the group working on the bomb, and they must have had a night of very heavy drinking. Or psychedelic sap mixtures. She shook her head and pointed at someone else. That someone else pointed back at her. No one admitted it, and yet somehow, a proposal still emerged.

"We were drunk, and it was something we were just talking about. So, I don't think I can claim to be the source of this idea. But it sort of emerged while we were all talking shit together" Allana said. "It is something of an alternative, or perhaps an idea to be used together with the soul fragments of Lausanne and Stella. But we looked up some energy statistics released by past heroes, and we believe it to be very possible. The hero class could be the catalyst we need to create the bomb on par, if not exceeding that of the old gods."

"This is untested." Alka said, but that wasn't really a problem. "And hero Chung's [hero] seed is dangerously unstable."

"Everything about this project is rather untested. As for the hero class, our preference would be Lord Sawabesarulars' hero seed? I have not seen data on that [hero] seed’s qualities, but it should be more stable than Chung’s [hero] seed."

"We'll have to convince him to part with it." Alka twirled his drawing pen and then tapped on the paper. He reread the entire proposal over again. “He won’t part with it easily.” 

Allana shrugged. "That's kinda why we are here. You're the domain holder with procurement authority."

Alka eyed the craftsmaster and rolled his eyes. "All of you will have to come with me."

***

Tropicsworld was buzzing, and the place was a factory. Not to the same level as the Core Worlds, but Tropicsworld was widely regarded as a second tier world, just below the Core Worlds in development. 

The Order resettled Tropicsworld way back in Year 225; and now more than a hundred years later Tropicsworld was a prosperous world that was safer, more developed, and more populated than the rest of the peripheral worlds.

Tropicsworld was also one of the most racially diverse worlds, home to the Ularans, Canari, and migrants from many more races, and was widely seen as a world with space for all new races to build their own preferred town and city, in a land where war is regulated by the Order.

More than a century of investment had created a world with large Ularan cities and Canari cities in the still rather underpopulated world, though both Ularan and Canari presence within the Order was still fairly limited, though growing with every passing year.

The nation of the New Ularan's and their capital, Newden, was home to almost a million Ularans, and the total number of Ularans on Tropicsworld already far outnumbered those on old Ulara by many times.

And yet, the two worlds remained separate, and Ulara remained a place where they continue to live under the shadow of demons. 

As a result, the cultures of the Ularans turned into a gigantic schism. The Ularans that continued to hide and pretend that their way of life was normal and correct, and the New Ularans who refused to be associated with the foolish, ancient old Ularans. There was no helping those that did not want to be helped, and the old Ularan Den Lords had too much to lose for changing their ways. 

The chambers and dens of Newden were small. Ularans, on average, were small creatures, only half as tall as the average human and as such they didn't need much space. But while they were small, they were incredibly fast and could slither through such tunnels and holes quickly. 

It also made them a little more difficult to invade. 

Alka visited the place maybe once or twice per year, mainly to check on the various industrial developments on Tropicsworld.

But he eventually made his way into one of the few larger meeting areas. Areas designed to receive guests like Alka and the larger sized folks. Alka's presence was rare. Exceptionally so. He could count the times he visited Newden on his two calloused hands. 

"Lord Alka of the Order." One of the New Ularan leaders named Kobrason, flanked by nine other Ularans, greeted him, there to receive him and his entourage. The leader promptly and accurately rattled off greetings for each of the alchemists and crafters after him. "What brings you here?"

"I wish to meet Sawabesarulars. There is a proposal for him." 

"The Hero's Warden does not take visitors." Another Ularan Lord countered.

Alka merely stared, and Kobrason relented. "I will bring the news that you wish to see him."

***

Snek. Sawabesarulars. Once upon a time, he was councillor and advisor to a hero, and he was known as the one who successfully dislodged a hero class from a willing hero donor.

Today, he coiled up in his home, located high up on a tower. A tower, because it was the mental opposite of living in underground dens. He hated that his old people still refused to embrace their own past. 

That they were comfortable living in underground dens even when the demons above were no longer threats.

The New Ularans over the past century produced many great warriors. There are now at least thirty level 100 Ularans since their grand experiment began so many years ago.

Yet the old Ulara remained in their dens. 

They do not see what they lost.

They do not care how high others could reach. 

Despite his great success at what he set out to do, the old society, the old world that he left behind remained something that he felt was his greatest failure.

He understood that he could not force society to go in the direction he wanted. He understood that even though he was a great and well respected member of the New Ularans, he was also nothing more than a long forgotten individual of the old Ularans. They never preserved his tale. They never preserved how the Ularans of his era struggled to turn the tide. How they refused to accept their fate.

Snek felt proud of the New Ularans, but the tale of those who lived in the depths and underground dens continued to be a scar in his soul.

Something he wished he could solve. 

He told himself that creating New Ulara was the right thing. The best way forward. He could not force his own people to go where they did not want to go.

Maybe this was how he made peace with that. 

"Council Advisor Sawabesarulars, there are guests." One of his aides slithered through the door and spoke gently. He was well supported by a small group of aides and servants who were masters of helping him ignore those who wanted to use his influence.

"I do not receive guests." Snek answered without turning. He continued to pretend to be busy. 

"It is Lord Alka of the Order. One of the holders."

"Oh." Sawabesarulars paused. "Rare for a domain holder to see me. He must want something. Did he say what?"

"No, Advisor."

"Very well then. Send him in." Snek looked around his messy room and relooked at his form. Snel had regained many levels since those years ago, the wooden snake structure that hosted his soul gained incredible mobility and life-like features, he remained something of a possession spirit. 

The aides were quick to help him reset the room into something more presentable. Snek watched them use their skills and then the messy room reset itself right before a group of dwarves with the scent of steel, fire and burnt ash walked through his doors.

"Sawabesarulars, it has been a while. Am I intruding?" Alka said as he quickly found a place to sit. 

"I wouldn't dare say so. Even if I truly was busy, I would make space." Snek answered. "Now, what can I do for the Valtrian Order?"

"I will be blunt. I'd like to obtain the [hero] class still under your care."

Snek paused. "Long ago, I offered Aeon the class, in exchange for a node tree. That did not go through." 

Instead, transportation between Tropicsworld and the old Ulara continued to be facilitated by void mages and rift gates placed at both locations. 

These days, these void mages facilitated the migration of young Ularans to New Ulara.

Snek looked at Alka. "So what changed?"

"I am not Aeon." The alchemist of explosions answered. "But I am here to make a big bomb, and I believe the [hero] class, in its unused state, is one of the very likely ways we can make something truly powerful."

Though Snek served as the spiritual advisor to the New Ularans, an entity nominally allied to the Order, and supported by the Order, it was not a role with significant access to the Order's activities, especially those conducted by the elites. Thus, his involvement in the Order's highest and most complex affairs was minimal at best. "What kind of bomb?" 

"Details are limited, but conceptually, something that exploits the [hero] class's exceptional amplification and multiplier effects."

Snek stopped as he realized what likely led to that decision. The Ularan was a master of blood rituals and spiritual magics, though his skills had since been eclipsed by many other mages and spiritual researchers. "I understand the 'star mana' side. The hero class is fantastic for that aspect. But the [void] aspect?"

"It is not something I have the full details of, but conceptually you are quite close." Alka said. "So, the hero class?"

"Who is it for?"

"An old foe, and likely, the origin of the current generation of demons. Something, we hope, will end the war for good." 

The old Ularan spirit seemed tired and weary. "Do you think so? War never ends. Every weapon meant to end wars only led to new ones."

"Perhaps so. There are theoretical frameworks that posit that the [system] most likely would engineer something else to be the next 'demon', but the current demons are a blight to the world. We will deal with the consequences when it happens." 

"Give me a few days to think."

Alka nodded. "Granted, Sawabesarulars. I will return in five days."

***

Alka returned days later to find Snek with a box. "Here."

"Oh? This is a lot easier than I expected." Alka smiled. 

Snek looked out of his tower, and it overlooked the growing city of Newden, heart of the New Ularan nation. The Ularans now counted at least twenty cities, though Newden remained the largest amongst them. "All of this was not possible without Aeon's help. All of this is not something the [hero] class would ever be able to create. Consider it my payment, for helping me build this world, even if it is not the original goal I had in mind for my people."

The dwarf took the box, and the hero class was in the shape of a small golden sphere. "This form?"

"It formed naturally once I took it out. I believe letting Aeon hold it would be for the best, it should remain a lot more stable when secured within Aeon's [soul realm]." 

"I see. Thank you." Alka answered. "Let's go."

"Whatever that plan is, I believe you'll need two classes. Or at least, you should make a [void hero] equivalent." 

"We have two domain holders." Alka smiled and left it at that.

***

[Hero] class. 

What was it?

Was it a direct product of faith?

Yes and also not exactly. A hero was a creation of the [system], with features purchased and paid for with faith points. Alka set the [hero] class within the heart of the [Soul Forge]. The old Gods gave their parameters and requirements, and the system produced the heroes for them.

"Well, fire it up. Time to test out the theory. Can we reconfigure the [hero] class such that all the amplification and power is concentrated to a single moment, instead of through a series of steps?" Alka said. 

All my previous experiences with the [hero] class were after they were deployed into the respective heroes' souls. They'd taken the form of the jug of star mana, and the shimmering stones of their soul springs. 

But I did not want them to be the constant glow of a star any more.

For star mana, from heroes powered by divine will, to interact with void mana,.

Supernova. 

A power strong enough to annihilate suns and worlds.

At first, the golden sphere resisted.

Patreeck and the rest of my artificial minds hummed as I drew upon all my power to cut the [hero] class open.

I felt the shell of the hero class weave open, as it seemed to realize that I was more than strong enough to dabble with its contents. 

Energies weaved out of the hero class, and for once, my mind and the hero class connected.

***

I saw visions.

Ken's life. Ken walked in the streets, a kid in school. Reading and talking with his friends. His innate suspicions of those in power. How he tried to defy his teachers for attempting to cover up bullying in his school. How he, along with the rest of his batch, was in a school bus when he saw that thing barrel through the streets. 

Then the god he saw.

It was someone that resembled Mozart. One of the administrators. 

He was alone.

And then, he was not. 

He stood in front of an image of a goddess. A goddess that even Ken could not remember, and power was written into his soul. 

Ken was dead. He had been for decades. 

Yet I felt him here, looking at me. 

"Is it over?" He asked, his eyes felt like it retained a semblance of intellect of the man that died. 

"Not yet. But I hope so." 

The visions shifted again, back to that life on the street. Of the unfortunate accident. "Please. Let no more of us be summoned to fight these wars."

"Soon." I answered.

***

The hero class opened, unfurled into a gigantic bundle of strings made of gold. Threads of power. 

[You have successfully deconstructed a [hero] class to its underlying [systemic strands]. [Systemic Strands] will decay if not reshaped soon.]

[You've gained a Level. You are now Level 293]

[Soul Forge greatly upgraded] 

The strands of the system thrummed, and I felt my notifications shake. Something, a stone to be added to my soul spring, shook and was forcibly changed.

[Soul Forge - Collective Forging - forcibly unlocked. You may now connect with all your pantheon's domainholders and many others to collectively forge great objects]

I felt a strong urge, a spiritual calling. The strands themselves seemed to resonate, and in my visions, I saw Alka and Allana both glowed, surrounded by an illusion of those same strands. I saw tens of other of the alchemists nearby glowing with similar golden strands.

The strands hummed, and I knew I had to touch them.

My roots and vines reached out, and momentarily, we entered [dream academy] together in a trance.

It was strange as if we were then guided by the strands themselves. They hummed within my soul forge as the strands of the system began to reform and reshape. It unfurled, untangled itself, and began to stitch itself into a different shape.

All of us were in a trance. A dance. Our minds melded as if my soul forge needed their will and knowledge. Their collective understanding of magic. My artificial minds and clones throughout the multiverse glowed too as our collective mental abilities became a massive platform for the great project.

The strands hummed as if it was the medium, a sensation I felt surreal. 

I felt Allana, Alka, and the rest of the alchemists' thoughts and ideas formed into a temporary meld. They were whole. They were temporarily one. 

Allana’s, Alka’s, and the alchemists' collective minds reached out to grab the reins of the soul forge's spiritual tendrils, and I allowed it. 

Together, we reshaped the strands.

We worked. Together. For a time that felt like days. I felt the mind ask for resources, and through my artificial minds, I hunted the Core Worlds. Metals vanished. Crystals too. We would have to explain them later. 

Those resources melted and poured into the soul forge.

The giant bundle of strands reshaped itself into a massive object. 

After what felt like days and weeks, and resources taken from across my entire realm, a room-sized bomb stood at the heart of my soul forge. 

[Systemic strands] have been reshaped into the unique [Supernova Chassis and Void Torpedo].

[[Supernova Chassis and Void Torpedo] is incomplete. It still requires a payload of sufficiently strong void energies, and a payload of sufficiently strong star mana.]

[Dream Academy upgraded to Domain Ability: Collective Genius]

[Collective Genius allows the temporary melding and fusion of minds for a burst of intellectual brilliance. Excessive use will cause severe brain damage and soul fracture]

"Well. We have the start of one bomb." Allana said as I felt strange energies coming from her soul. She had been stuck at Level 149 for a while, and now, she might just need a little more to get there.

I whispered to Alka. "Help her finish the bomb. I think she is close to her moment."

Alka could sense it just as well as I did.