Meanwhile, in the topmost hidden floor of the Sect of Hedon.
Ashahell stood in front of a window like always, looking out over the expanse of Angaria while thinking about how this beautiful continent had been laid waste by the greedy Big 4.
However, now, he had to deal with the knowledge that there was someone watching him 24/7, trying to catch him in the middle of 'activities' that might incriminate him.
He was a Peak Champion, and if it weren't for a very special trinket that had been given to him the moment he had colluded with the Church, he wouldn't even have been able to detect those sets of eyes on him which were a level above him.
Recently, his life had been completely dreary, and he hadn't been able to help but curse that seer, even though she couldn't really be blamed completely for getting the vision that had foiled his plan.
Occasionally, he also thought about the King of Lanthanor, and their little talk and his peek into his memories.
With nothing else to do, he would even imagine how it would have been if that King had joined him. He had always longed for someone to share his passion, but it seemed that fate had decreed that he would be alone in his pursuit of justice for the continent that had given birth to him, and named him its 'savior'.
Suddenly, he felt that something had changed.
That set of eyes were gone! No one was currently observing him!
Wait…why was no one observing him? Had they taken some decision regarding him? Or had the Church somehow advanced their date of purging despite the failure of his efforts?
As numerous questions surged through his mind, he heard a knock on the door.
Quickly running to it, he opened it to see a server holding a tray with a glass of chilled wine.
Without thinking, he first took the glass and was about to close the door before happening upon a very crucial question.
He was in the topmost floor of the Central Tower where entry was forbidden to all but a select few! How the hell had a waiter appeared here!
Even as this question flashed across his mind, the server cracked a smile before taking back the glass, setting the tray to the side and taking a sip from it.
"How have you been, Ashahell? Is it fun being watched even when you're in the loo?"
Finally, his Peak Exalted Champion level senses picked up on the dissonance in the brain waves of the server.
Usually, he would have noticed this right away, but the skill of the one who was causing this was so high that it had escaped his level of detection.
The only reason he even saw it now was that the one who was really behind this had allowed it to be seen.
Conjuring a chair, the server sat down before taking two more sips and frowning.
"Where I come from, each sip of wine transports one to a land of pleasure and bliss from which one wishes there is no return. Compared to that, its as if I'm drinking horsepiss. Now, sit down. We don't have long. We need to talk."
Nodding, Ashahell also conjured a chair before sitting in front of the server and saying, "I trust you have been well, Koleos. How are you doing this? Aren't you on the same level as those watching me?"
Chuckling with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, the server replied, "Of course. But a man wielding sticks and stones is incomparable to one who has forged sharp weapons of steel for himself. I'm using a special trinket made by the grace of one beyond the Hero-level, but even then, this can only last for a few minutes before they notice that something is off. I came here to give you a message."
The-the level beyond Hero-level?!
So far, Ashahell had only heard empty words and claims about how the man in front of him, who was the member of Church that was positioned here, was associated with those of that level.
It was only now that he was seeing hard proof, and this made Ashahell's eyes blaze with a longing for strength.
If his primary goal was to save Angaria, then his secondary one was to go as far as possible on the Path to Power.
It was not because he lusted for power, or because he reveled in the feeling of having more strength than others.
No, it was just pure curiosity.
Curiosity about what lay at the end, and whether he could reach it.
Yet, this wasn't the time nor the place to ask about it.
So, Ashahell just said "Speak," and folded his hands, after which the servant smiled and said.
"Sit tight."
"Sit tight?"
"Sit tight."
"That's it?"
"Yeah, just sit tight."
Frowning, Ashahell wondered whether there was any hidden meaning, but the servant just chuckled and said, "Don't think too much into it. Sit tight. Things have changed. You'll know how soon enough. Suffice it to say that the one in charge of the expedition to Angaria has changed, and she wants it to happen faster. Thus, she's in the process of siphoning more resources and personnel here, after which you will be better equipped to help us. Until then, just don't try anything that will get you caught. Just sit tight. Got it?"
After sinking into deep thought for a few moments, Ashahell nodded, after which the server got up, took back the tray, and placed the wine glass on it again.
Nodding at Ashahell, he opened the door and left, after which Asahahell couldn't sense him anymore.
The server wouldn't be remembering anything, and he would be left wondering who might have consumed the wine which he must have been taking for someone else.
As soon as AShahell took his typical position again, the feeling of being watched resumed, which made him understand that whatever the Hero from the Church had done, it had stopped.
So he just had to sit tight? He could do that.
Resolving not to plan anything actively and just wait, Ashahell closed his eyes.
Unless someone specifically targeted him, nothing would make him move.
And who could be capable or daring enough to target him in this entire Sect?
….
Meanwhile, in a private training room in the vast underground area of the Lanthanor Kingdom.
Recently, a close friend and confidant of the King, whom apparently the King used to call as his own brother, had taken up a room here, and whenever a servant passed it while going on their way to get something, they would always hear loud thumps, as if someone was in the middle of a fight.
None of them would enter, but if they did, they would have been shocked to see the sight of two people, who looked exactly the same, fighting each other.
If two people looked the same, one would expect them to be equals, but instead, in this case, one side seemed to have a definite advantage, whether it be in terms of skill or strength.
The other side was bruised and bloody, with blood even streaming down their fists where the skin had been cut to expose bones.
The other figure, who looked fine except for a few small patches of dirt and blood on their clothes, was standing with an expression of slight vexation and arrogance on their face.
"Stand up, boy. Or do you want to bend your ego and beg? When you found me in the woods, I was hopeful, thinking that I had finally found someone talented enough to take forward my legacy as one of the few pure Fighters who reached the Hero level. I even saved you from the mutated bear that was about to maul you to death! If I had known that you would turn out to be so worthless, I would have-"
"YAAARGHHH!"
Before the figure could complete his sentence, the bloody one shot forward and launched a punch, which impacted on the chest of the other figure.
Strangely, at the point of impact, a small balloon seemed to have formed, which burst the clothes open, but there was no damage to the underlying skin.
"Not bad. Your Hidden Kill Fist is progressing well! You can even use it when you're close to death! But that's not enough. If you don't feel like you 'need' power, then nothing is enough. Get up! Fight! Kill me or be killed, dammit!"
After the punch, the bloody figure had fallen to the ground unmoving, and even though the other figure screamed in this way, there was no movement.
Sighing, the figure was about to disperse its own figure, but it heard a low whimpering coming from the body lying on the floor.
Walking forward, the figure bent, but it suddenly went flying as a fist had just impacted its jaw.
Standing up like a spring, the bloody figure shuffled on two legs before saying with an exasperated tone, "'Need' this, 'need' that, what's so important about this 'need' anyway? Huh? Why does nothing hurt anymore? And why did you fly when I hit you? Was it to encourage me?"
Massaging its jaw, the other figure got up and grumbled for a bit before shouting, "THAT'S BECAUSE YOU JUST BECAME A WARRIOR, YOU NINCOMPOOP! THIS IS A HUMAN LEVEL CLONE, SO OF COURSE I WAS SENT FLYING! WHO WANTS TO ENCOURAGE YOU, EH?!"
"I-I'm a Warrior?!"
No matter how much the other figure shouted, the bloody figure seemed fixated on this statement, as he repeatedly looked at his arms with an expression of disbelief on his face.
Finally exhausting himself and noticing that it was all useless, the other figure panted for a while before grudgingly saying something, which lit up the eyes of the other one.
"Yes, you're a Warrior. Now, you can finally begin training in my true legacy, and not these parlor tricks. But prepare yourself. This will be painful. Nobody ever got power by twiddling their thumbs. But you-you will reach the lowest depths of hell, but when we are done, no Fighter on this continent will be able to face you and live to tell the tale."