–—- ??? —---

  Hot wind whipped past Wilbur as he walked along the dune ridge. His gaze swept across the endless dunes that glittered and shone in the midday sun. Years ago, when he had arrived in Vlanoris, he wouldn’t have considered this place worth visiting. But now?

  The Glittering Expanse was home.

  With its endless sunlight, wind, and burning temperatures, it was definitely a hard place to live. At least for most people. Which is why Wilbur loved it. He had to admit there was something enchanting about how the sand reflected Vlanoris’s twin suns.

  Wilbur bent over and scooped up a handful of the crystalline sand. It shimmered as it shifted in his hands. From his research, the glittering effect of the silica came from a rock only found in this part of the world.

  He had dug deep into the world and unearthed solid samples of it. The stone was tough. Like, insanely tough. Wilbur had difficulties breaking it down to replicate the Glittering Expanse’s native sand.

  Wilbur crested a ridge and looked out over the miles of desert. The twin suns beat down on the desert, and iridescent brilliance exploded across the dunes. As if someone had crushed millions of crystal chandeliers and then filled an ocean with the dust.

  With a wave of his hand, his favorite recliner appeared and hovered above the dune. He sat and stared out over the searing heat and light.

  The dunes were something else. Wilbur could barely see the distant valley of the colossal sand wave he sat atop. He’d measured them once. The highest he had found towered at over five hundred feet.

  Wilbur glanced back to where he’d come from. Even he couldn’t see his concealed lab and home through the enchantments he’d set up. Wilbur could still sense his connection to it. The arcane magic called to him, like invisible threads leading him home.

  He sighed.

  Wilbur read the change the system had made to the quest.

  - Reward: Chronomancy. Fundamental knowledge and skills.

  Of course, he’d been suspicious, immediately demanding that it clarify. It obliged.

  - Chronomancy impossible without quest completion.

  Wilbur sighed again.

  There were many things he could say about the glitchy “system” of Vlanoris. But the one thing that had always been true: it didn’t lie.

  Sure, it would obscure the truth, offer rewards as if it were designed to imitate a monkey’s paw. But lying? Not something he had observed in his many years on this world.

  The worst part was when it said something was impossible. The little jerk would make it reality. Like. Literally change the fundamental rules of the universe. Or so it seemed that way to Wilbur.

  Wilbur held out his hand, and a tall glass appeared. Purple liquid bubbled from the bottom of the glass, filling it in seconds. Frost formed on it, and vapor drifted from its surface at the temperature difference between the liquid and the air.

  He drank the ice-cold drink and pondered.

  The last time Wilbur had butted heads with the system had been over teleportation magic. Mainly reverse engineering planar magic from the few scraps of knowledge he could find.

  He smiled at the memory. That had been a very different Wilbur. He was so young.

  Wilbur rolled his eyes. Not that he looked much older.

  But he’d done it.

  The memory was a bit painful. It had been decades of research, leveling, and mad magical “science.” His early designs of magical arrays would have made Jackson Pollock proud.

  When it was all said and done, he’d waved, clapped, and vanished from Vlanoris. Finally, on his way home.

  A few jumps through the planes, and he was back on Earth.

  What was left of it.

  He shuddered at the memory and steadied his breath. Hot, dry air filled his lungs as he closed his eyes, the arid tang of the wind a balm to his darkening thoughts.

  Earth was gone. Or at least the Earth he knew, anyway. Wilbur had appeared above the exosphere and smiled. At level 473, dealing with the vacuum of space was simple.

  Wilbur had descended back to his home planet. If he hadn’t learned an abundance of caution on Vlanoris, he wasn’t sure what would have happened. The first sign that something was wrong was when his magical barriers pulled on his mana reserves. Radiation had swept over him, but he’d been protected.

  Wilbur had searched the surface but feared the worst. Every discovery made him question just what the hell had happened to Earth.

  Nuclear war? That was something he could imagine. Humanity didn’t have the greatest track record, that’s for sure. But massive empty voids pocking the surface of the planet? Just what weapon had people designed to cause that?

  There was a distinct lack of life on Earth. It was eerie. He’d expected that since the radiation had hit him, but it still didn’t make sense.

  Where was the life on the planet? Corpses? Bodies?

  It was all missing.

  Everywhere that used to have any form of intelligent life was just… gone.

  As if someone had reached down and dug out entire sections of the planet with a cosmic-sized ice cream scoop.

  Nothing made sense.

  Wilbur had hoped that time moved differently on Vlanoris. That had been wrong. But the fate of Earth made no sense. Something had happened, and no matter how long or carefully he searched, he found no trace of what happened.

  He’d even pulled on a hunch from sci-fi and shifted out to the stars. He’d looked back on Earth, but… it was as if light itself had vanished.

  No trace. No signs. Just gone.

  Wilbur shook himself from the memory. Those realizations meant he only had one choice: return to Vlanoris.

  For years, he had been depressed, mindlessly wandering the world. Wilbur hadn’t reconnected with those he knew in this world. He still felt a little bad about that. But he was in no mood to laugh, celebrate his victories, or hear stories about him fighting a Demonlord.

  It all seemed pointless.

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  Then his life’s work had begun.

  It had all started with a simple spell. He was mindlessly reading a basic spellcraft theory book, mechanically consuming a meat stew, when he flipped to the next page.

  He read the spell array.

  [Haste]

  Enchantment.

  Accelerates the user’s perception, reflexes, and other attributes through mana reinforcement. Has vast and varied uses.

  The concept was simple enough. The spell operated by forcing the body into an artificially accelerated state. Muscles, neurological signals, and cognitive speed were all enhanced. It allowed the caster to operate faster than their natural limits allowed through the infusion of mana.

  Wilbur had used the spell and its variations through the years. It was fantastic in battle and great for travel. Assuming you had the mana.

  It was a way to move faster, fight faster, think faster. That was what all the magic users of Vlanoris agreed on. Even Wilbur agreed.

  But the effect when under haste was odd. You moved faster, yet it didn’t feel like that. It felt like the world moved more slowly.

  He’d paid for his stew, then rushed out of the tavern in the small, remote mountain village. The patrons hadn’t stopped staring at the strange man, despite the owner’s protest. For the tavern, anyone who paid serious coin was always welcome.

  Wilbur didn’t care.

  A mad idea brewed in his mind as he walked and started taking notes. He cast haste, then took more notes. It was weeks later when he realized he had been speed-walking across the world. The only thing that broke him from his thoughts had been the wet feeling on his toes as he walked into an ocean.

  If time were an absolute, then how come you moved through it at different speeds? Even with the strange rules of this world, why couldn’t that be something?

  Pretty much every magical mind he visited over the next few decades looked at his designs with horror.

  But once again, Wilbur didn’t care.

  He took [Haste] and turned it into an abomination. His own personal, wonderful, magical monster of an array. Wilbur wondered if the strange noises coming from his early attempts were magic itself screaming at his audacity.

  Eh.

  Should have just let him use temporal magic. Not his fault it was deficient.

  But even with years of research, every step forward brought new problems. Those took even longer to fix. The compounding issues stacked on one another, and Wilbur had to solve each and every one.

  Wilbur smiled to himself. He wished he could have shown Aytod the Powerful just how silly he was. The scaled monster had gone through endless lengths to become immortal.

  Wilbur had done it to solve a rounding error in an array.

  Centuries had drifted by as he worked. After one too many interactions with fanatics, pompous nobles, and the like, he had decided to move his home.

  He had spent a year searching the world at blistering pace and found the Glittering Expanse. A place where few living beings ever tread. Perfect for his purposes.

  When he had run into problems powering his experiments, he had leveled.

  Wilbur glanced at his status, then grimaced.

  - Status: Wilbur the Wizard

  - Level: 1999

  “Why couldn’t the level cap be a round number?” he grumbled. He absolutely hated it. But what could you do…

  “Stupid system.”

  Ding!

  Wilbur frowned.

  “Ughhhh, why are you still listening in? I told you I’d consider the quest.” Wilbur gestured around to his chair and the glittering dunes. “What exactly do you think I’m doing out here?”

  Well, if he was honest, he was kind of falling into memories from his past. But it didn’t need to know that.

  To the best of his knowledge, the glitchy little thing still didn’t know how to read his thoughts.

  Right? Dumb-ass system?

  No response.

  I’m never accepting this quest.

  Still nothing. Just like the countless times he had checked over the years. It was always good to be careful. Never knew when the little shit would learn a new trick.

  Wilbur was stalling.

  After hundreds of years of ignoring the system, he was seriously considering taking the quest. The damn thing knew just what to use to tempt him.

  He looked back over the requirements.

  Teach the magically attuned to become spell-crafters? That bothered him. Why weren’t people practicing spellcraft? Even if he didn’t accept the quest, he still needed to investigate that.

  If he was going to have to interact with people again, he might as well get all the benefits he could.

  Wilbur sighed.

  After all these years, he had never solved the final problem with his spell. Something was still missing. He could rewind time, technically. Even saying he could do that was… well, it’s like saying, “Yeah! I can remove all the termites from your house.” Then you remove the owner of the house, ship in a new house, blow up the old one, and go, “Ta da! No more termites!”

  The explosion and ruins of the old house leave the backyard a mess. While you technically solved the problem, it’s not the same.

  There were limits, and Wilbur had found them. Unlike the ones before, he hadn’t been able to surpass this one.

  “Alright, fine,” he said, making up his mind. “I’ll do your stupid quest. You better not be lying to me,” Wilbur squinted, “because if you are, I will make it my new goal to figure out how to reboot you.”

  Pushing through the last of his hesitation, he mentally accepted the quest. Just how hard could it be?

  DING!

  — Quest Accepted! —

  Name: The Return of Spellcraft.

  Objective: Teach spellcraft to the magically attuned.

  Current Status: Incomplete — Requirements missing.

  Requirements: Train at least 70% of the Magically attuned. Current progress:

  General Spellcraft  — 0.001 / 50 %

  Advanced Spellcraft — 0.001 / 15 %

  Expert Spellcraft  — 0.001 / 4 %

  Master Spellcraft  — 0.0  / 1 %

  Train more members of the radiant races to achieve requirements.

  —— —— ——

  “Why do I feel like I am going to regret this?” Wilbur whispered. He chugged the last of his cold juice, then packed his things. His mind worked as he traced his steps back across the dune.

  It was time to go to work.

  He needed to make a list.

  –—- ??? —---

  In the ruined city of Golvan, the heroes had searched night and day for survivors. As they combed through city block after city block, their efforts had rarely been rewarded.

  Days of searching had resulted in two souls being saved. All others were dead, missing, or… worse.

  Jonathan had sighed in relief when the trumpet blasts had announced the arrival of his order. The adventurer Rugen had been invaluable. The charismatic man had appeared minutes after their fight. The heroes had immediately sent him to find whatever support he could and bring it to the city.

  Jonathan stood at attention and gave his report to the high priest. The old, spindly man with leathery skin had listened intently. His pure white and gold robes, devoid of dust, gave Jonathan a sense of calm.

  “And that’s my account of what occurred in this city.”

  There was a long silence in the white tent as the priest stared intently, his eyes watching from beneath his hood.

  “To clarify,” the man’s raspy voice filled the tent, “you found no trace of this… Wilbur?”

  “That is correct, High Priest Siles. After he used magic to resurrect Catherine Calogera, he left.”

  High Priest Siles frowned. “And none of you attempted to detain him?”

  Jonathan pursed his lips. He took a breath, then answered. “High Priest Siles, Darcy did attempt to approach him. However, he seems to be able to move across space seemingly instantly. At the time, we did not have a choice or option to detain him.”

  Siles shook his head. “Yet another failure of the heroes.”

  Jonathan was silent.

  “I suppose it cannot be helped. However, this will be reported to the central church.” Siles flicked his hand. “You are dismissed, Paladin Jonathan. Go find some use for yourself. Perhaps something you cannot fail.”

  Jonathan’s body went rigid. He breathed. Saluted. Then spun on his heel and marched from the tent.

  A few moments later, a voice hissed from the darkness in the tent.

  “Who… is this Wilbur…”

  “I do not know,” High Priest Siles muttered. “But based on that report, I assume he will be a problem.”

  Siles glanced back. “See that the central church is informed as quickly as possible.”

  “Understood.”

  Silence fell over the tent once again. It dragged on as the priest pondered this latest change. One thing bothered him.

  “What exactly…” he muttered. “Is a wizard?”

  –—- ??? —---

  One moment he’s dying in a warzone — next, he’s naked on a moon full of real cultivators.

  Jake Sullivan just woke up in the wrong body, on a moon called Verdis, inside a cultivation academy where failure means getting culled back to Earth to live as a powerless mortal—and probably die uselessly in the upcoming alien invasion.

  His memories are mostly gone, but his spirit’s intact. His classmates? Rich kids with qi crystals and family techniques. The school? Doesn’t give a damn. Let the strong survive. With enemy agents already on campus, Jake will need to out-cultivate, outfight, and outsmart everyone around him. He has only one year to become a real cultivator.

  No dying this time!

  Dark humor. Sharp dialogue. Flower picking, teeth flying. A fresh blend of sci-fi, xianxia, and LitRPG.