Sam and Jacob exited a portal, entering into orbit around the moon for a few moments before they steadied themselves with their Authority. A few hundred miles away, the titanic forms of the Grakoth Ancestors loomed, half cast in shadow as the Moon blocked out the light of the Sun.

  Sam teleported normally, appearing in front of the Ancestors. They looked down at him as imperiously as a king addressing a beggar. Then again, he was the size of an ant in comparison to them.

  “So you are Sam Atlas,” one of the Ancestors said in a surprisingly feminine voice. She was covered in iridescent scales, and her eyes were aflame with the light of a nebula. “I am Anrya, Queen of the Heavens. One of the Triumvirate of the Grakoth Empire, and eldest amongst the Ancestors.”

  Sam did not answer, instead trying to understand the strange aura billowing around the three immense Grakoth. It was that of a G Ranker, but magnified to the level of a D Ranker. Filled with power that did not entirely match that of the System. Power enough that Sam felt wary, even with all of his strength.

  “Answer us when we talk to you, boy!” another of the Ancestors boomed. He was covered in steely scales, with four arms. The two lowest arms ended in razor sharp blades of bone. “We did not come here to be judged. We are the judges!”

  Sam frowned. “Generally negotiations start a bit more cordially. My faction is already allied with yours. As an equal. Not as a subordinate.”

  “There are no equals to us,” the steel-scaled Grakoth boomed, every word filled with mockery. “Even the System agrees. That is why we were locked away until this universe was fit to hold us. I ought to demonstrate my strength this very moment.”

  Before Sam could say anything, a fist of red light slammed into the side of the belligerent Ancestor’s chin, cracking the scales. The Grakoth looked down at Jacob in disbelief, a trickle of blood running down the side of his face.

  “You dare?” he roared, drawing back one of his sword arms to strike. The light of a tiny sun burned from within the bone, tethered not to the power of the Dao, but to something unique to the Grakoth. Space around the titan burned, no matter that that was impossible. Flames of silver and chrome rampaged across the void, racing towards Jacob.

  The last of the Ancestors, who had been silent until now, finally spoke. His scales were the molten orange of lava. One hand ended in a hammer of bone. “I agree with you,” he said softly, though his words were filled with the ringing surety of a master smith’s hammerblows. “Eglas is always quick to posture. It seems you have an ally of your own who is similar in that regard.”

  Anrya narrowed her eyes at her compatriot, but said nothing to rebuke him.

  “My name is Karamodo,” he continued. “I represent the affinity of the Grakoth to forging. The fires of civilization burn within me, but it is tempered with the cool oil of age and experience. Just because you are a millionth of our age does not mean that your power counts for nothing.”

  Sam smiled. “I’m glad you seem more reasonable than… Eglas, you said his name was?”

  Karamodo nodded. “The three of us are shaped by our natures far more than most living beings. Even before the System and the Dao arrived in this universe, we tapped into something similar. It is how we came to your planet in a matter of days.”

  “Right. Manarox said your civilization lived in the Andromeda Galaxy. You would have to move far faster than light to get here, or have some sort of incredibly powerful portal skill.”

  Karamodo opened his mouth, but was interrupted by Anrya. “Do not tell the boy all of our secrets, Karamodo. I know you are fond of spreading knowledge, but not at our detriment.”

  “Why not?” Karamodo replied. “Sam Atlas is to be one of our allies. One of our Chosen saw the potential in him. Do you not feel his power, or that of his fellow?”

  Both of the Ancestors glanced at Eglas, still fighting with Jacob. The Grakoth Ancestor was clearly stronger, but was hindered somewhat by his immense form.

  “Perhaps we should find a better place to talk while our more hot-headed companions fight?” Karamodo suggested. Then, to Sam’s surprise, he shrunk a thousand fold in an instant, suddenly the size of a regular Grakoth. “This form should be more conducive towards conversation.”

  “Right,” Sam replied, surprised. “I can use my Authority to create somewhere to sit. Unless you also possess that ability?”

  Karamodo snapped his fingers, his claws scraping against one another. Steel started to flow from cracks in reality, warping and bending like liquid. The scaffolding of a large building quickly came together, followed by walls and an arched roof. It soon became clear to Sam that it was some sort of temple, as depictions of the three Grakoth Ancestors covered the outside.

  “I do not possess this Authority that you speak of,” Karamodo explained, “but I have my own ability that is similar. My Intrinsic Domain. Most of the old gods of this universe hold such a power.”

  Karamodo floated through the door, and after a brief pause, Sam followed. The structure was gargantuan, almost a mile high. Despite this, the carvings of the Ancestors were smaller than their actual forms. It was almost underwhelming.

  The interior of the temple was lined with row after row of strangely shaped seats. They were fitted to the contours of a Grakoth body, and much larger than a normal chair on Earth would be. At the end of the room were three pulpits, each carved into the shape of one of the Ancestors.

  “A bit on the nose,” Sam said as he looked around. “Did you design all of this?”

  Karamodo chuckled. “I would not be… that arrogant. It came into being this way. Anrya and Eglas have similar temples.”

  Sam heard a sigh come from outside of the temple, and a moment later, Anrya entered, now in a shrunken form like Karamodo.

  Karamodo gestured towards a nearby chair. “Sit, will you? You said that you wanted to talk. So do we. There is a lot that we would like to learn, and I am sure that the same is true for you.”

  Sam sat, adjusting himself to make it more comfortable. It felt strange, with curves that did not fit the human form. Karamodo noticed his discomfort and waved a hand. The chair shrunk and became flatter, more like the ones Sam was used to.

  Sam leaned forward, and looked Karamodo directly in his flaming eyes. “So, why did you come here? Just to meet me? Or to scout out a new province of the Grakoth Empire?”

  Karamodo and Anrya sat opposite to Sam. It was Anrya who answered. “Manarox told us about you in great detail. The System informed us that our Empire had allied with yours during our absence. We wanted to find out who exactly Sam Atlas, the man found worthy of a privilege never before granted, was. If you know anything about our people, we do not easily ally ourselves with others.”

  “I do. From my understanding, Manarox was impressed by my strength. Your people are a very martial society, right?”

  Anrya and Karamodo shared a glance. “That we are,” Anrya replied. “As you can see from Eglas, some of us are extremely prone to violence. His followers are the most common among the Grakoth, though not the most powerful faction.”

  “Which is?”

  “That is complicated,” Karamodo answered. “Smiths are rare among the Grakoth, but are venerated above most others. Female Grakoth are in a similar position. In general our species works together well. Manarox and Elvaron are effective leaders.”

  “I think Manarox said female Grakoth have telekinesis?" Sam questioned. “It was kind of unclear.”

  “Many of the species of the wider universe have special abilities,” Anrya said. “To our knowledge, you humans are one of the few who have no defining features. At least, physically. Something can be said about your mental fortitude, given how far you have reached.”

  “Are there others like you out there?” Sam asked. “Beings at your level of power.”

  “That is part of the reason that we came here,” Anrya confirmed. “The Universal Tournament is some time away, but the current standings of universal factions says a lot about how it will go. There are nine other species who have members on par with us. One of them we knew of before the System came.”

  “Which is?” Sam prompted.

  “Our galaxy is split between two major factions. The Grakoth and the Lycanthi. We are at an impasse, given our comparable strength. I believe that the Grakoth could defeat them, if we went all out, but it would cripple our species for generations to come.”

  “The Lycanthi…” Sam mused. “I think I saw them mentioned back when the System first arrived. What exactly are they?”

  “A hive mind civilization,” Karamodo said, speaking for the first time since he sat down. “They… are hard to describe. Like a mix between an amoeba and a human. Pink flesh, but entirely amorphous. Individually they are weak, but they can merge to increase their power. Their leader, called the Godhead, is essentially the entire will of the Lycanthi, fused into one mind.”

  Anrya chimed in. “If every member of the Lycanthi fused into one, the results would be terrifying. There are more of them in existence than stars in the sky. Who knows how strong they are with the System’s coming?”

  “How strong were they before?” Sam asked.

  “Fusion between Lycanthi destroys half of the fused bodies every minute they remain connected. It is why the Godhead has not amalgamated its entire species and conquered the universe. If it ever did so, however, I believe its strength would be what the System considers C Rank. Other than that, an average Lycanthi varied from the level of a toddler to a low E Ranker.”

  “The System must have empowered them somehow, right?” Sam asked. “If they are as much of a threat as you say, why haven’t I heard of them yet?”

  Anrya smiled. “Because their greatest strength is also their greatest weakness. Without the Godhead to direct them, their intelligence is rudimentary at best, and nonexistent at worst. Their progress has stalled somewhat, with only the most bestial amalgamations gaining any measure of strength.”

  “I believe that leveling for the Lycanthi gives them far less power than any other species that I know of,” Karamodo added. “Mainly, it lets them fuse for longer amounts of time without suffering losses. Five seconds per level and a much larger boost per Rank.”

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “So by the time the tournament rolls around, I could be dealing with a nearly invulnerable fusion of half a galaxy’s worth of life forms without any real limits?”

  “No,” Karamodo replied confidently. “The Godhead is not a real creature. It is limited by the strength of the basic Lycanthi. None that we know of are stronger than F Rank.”

  “What about the others? You said you only knew about the Lycanthi before the System came. What about after?” Sam asked. “You said there were nine-” Before he could continue, the side of the temple broke apart as Eglas hammered Jacob’s brutalized body through the metal. The gargantuan Grakoth gazed down at Jacob with victory in his eyes, only to falter as the much smaller human rose to his feet, crimson lightning sparking around him. ‘

  “Eglas?” Anrya called out. “I think it is time that you came to talk like a normal person. You have tested the human enough. If he can stand against you for this long, he can stand for some more.”

  Eglas gritted his teeth, but followed Anrya’s command, shrinking until he was only three as tall as an average human. He still towered over the other two Grakoth, but did not seem any stronger for it.

  Jacob laughed long and loud, opening his mouth as if to say something rash. A stony glare from Sam dissuaded him.

  After a brief pause, Anrya answered Sam’s question. “Some we still do not really understand, but they were listed in a System notification. I will share it with you.”

  All limitations on the Pre-System strength of native races have been lifted!

  Beings affected:

  The Grakoth Ancestors

  The Stellar Tyrants

  The Lycanthi Godhead

  …

  7 more

  Sam quickly opened the rest of the notification.

  …

  Emperor Augeus

  The Deep Ones

  Valar’tin

  Pinnacle

  Eaugerthraxiselvayantis

  The Worldsouls

  The Gardener

  Sam scanned the list a few times, but had never heard of any of the beings on it other than the Ancestors and the Lycanthi. The eighth of them was especially strange. Sam didn’t even know how to pronounce it. “Eauger…” He quickly gave up.

  “Phonetically it is pronounced “Oger-thraxis-elva-yantis,” Karamodo explained, a small grin on his face. “Do not let the name confuse you, though. It is one of the most dangerous beings on that list.”

  “Why?”

  “Your people have a concept called cosmic horror. The fear of the unknown, of the vastness between the stars. That thing has existed since the beginning of time, drifting through the universe. It is that horror your species envisages. Whatever it touches turns to ash. Nobody knows what exactly it is, or how it is so powerful. Some believe it to be a force of nature, others a being from beyond our own cosmos. We shall find out during the Tournament.”

  “How do you know what my people have concepts for, and not?” Sam asked, suddenly suspicious. “You arrived here less than ten minutes ago. I certainly never told Manarox about cosmic horror of all things.”

  “Our powers diverge from the System norm,” Karamodo answered. “Explaining it would take quite some time.”

  Sam gave Karamodo a disbelieving look. “You can come all the way from the Andromeda galaxy in a few days, but can’t spare a few minutes to explain something to me?”

  “Tell him,” Anrya said, sighing. “We do not lose anything from it. With his power, he will most likely find out by himself within the next few years.”

  Jacob and Eglas drew closer, with the former anticipating something he could learn from, and the latter not wanting to let Jacob out of his sight.

  Karamodo took a deep breath, and spoke. “Most civilizations have gods, or at the very least, beings above themselves. Some gods live in truth, while others live solely in the mind.”

  The Grakoth raised his right hand, the one without the hammer on the end. Hazy orange light gathered around it, but to Sam’s surprise, it was neither elemental energy nor the power of the Dao.

  “Gods draw their power from a mechanism called the collective unconscious,” Karamodo continued. “They are empowered by the subconscious thoughts of their followers, and in many ways, shaped by them. Before the System came, we were so powerful because of this. It takes an egregious amount of energy to fuel such power, however, and the entirety of the Grakoth race, quadrillions of them, only could elevate three beings to the level of a D Ranker under the System.”

  “I still don’t know how that allows you to traverse millions of light years in days,” Sam said. “D Rankers can’t do that, at least as far as I know. Especially considering you don’t have the powerset to do such a thing under the System.”

  Karamodo smiled, his sharp teeth glinting in the light. “While the collective unconscious pales in comparison to the System, it does allow for things that a cultivator cannot accomplish at a similar level of power. Namely, anything our followers believe becomes true, to an extent. Our legends show us guiding the Grakoth by tapping into their collective will, so we can glean knowledge from the psychic profile of an entire species. They show us traversing the galaxy in minutes, so we can do that as well.”

  “And those legends? How did they begin in the first place, if you needed them to grow powerful?”

  “Propaganda,” Anrya said simply. “In the beginning we were simply unnaturally powerful Grakoth. My telekinesis was an order of magnitude above the norm. Eglas was as strong as ten warriors. Karamodo could forge weapons capable of shattering hills. As time went on, our legend grew.”

  The carvings in the temple seemed to shift, every glance from Sam casting them in a different light. Suggestions of ancient battles and dimly lit mountain forges glowed around the statues of Eglas and Karamodo, while Anrya’s statues glowed, the illusions of titanic boulders crashing into castle walls and enemy formations. Yet again, there was no hint of the Dao or elemental power within the illusions, simply the raw might of beings who had been godlike eons before the arrival of the System.

  “Now,” Karamodo said, “can we move on? We came here for more than simply conversing about the wider universe. You entered into an alliance with my empire. We need to establish a covenant. Especially considering the upcoming Universal Tournament.”

  “Alright,” Sam replied. “What did you have in mind?”

  “We have three terms we wish to discuss,” Anrya said. “Firstly, a mutual defense pact, effective immediately once your faction gains the means to travel to the Andromeda Galaxy. The Lycanthi scourge will only grow worse as time goes on.”

  Sam nodded slowly. “That sounds reasonable. But to my knowledge, there are few threats nearby Earth that come from our universe. As for invaders, their levels are limited enough that I can deal with them.”

  “Then perhaps we can extend certain concessions to you under the terms of our second request,” Anrya countered. “We wish to establish trade through the Interweb first, and through realspace channels later. We can provide you with goods impossible to attain in your sector of the galactic cluster.”

  “Such as?”

  “There is a certain ore that only forms on the core planets of the Grakoth Empire. We call it sunstone. It contains immense amounts of energy which can be used even now as it does not fall under the limits on technology provided by the System.”

  “What would you want in return, though?” Sam asked. “Earth isn’t exactly rich in extraordinary materials.”

  “Food, chiefly. My understanding is that your planet is mostly empty right now. The Grakoth worlds are heavily populated, even after the death of most of our species. There is little space to care for our young. We reproduce more quickly than your own species. An average brood consists of a dozen eggs.”

  “I can work with that,” Sam said. “We’ve already been running a small farming operation to sell on the Interweb. With our Planetary Core, we can set up farms all across the world. I don’t see Earth’s population growing beyond ten million for years. Even then it… it used to have billions.”

  Anrya caught the slight pause as Sam spoke. “It is hard, is it not? Seeing your cities empty and ruined, skies through which millions once flew. Fields left to burn away under the sun. Monsters roaming over all.”

  “It is,” Sam replied softly. “According to the System, we humans were the best off, relative to our population. It sure doesn't feel that way.”

  All five there shared a moment of silence, before Anrya continued. “As for the third request, we wanted to talk about the tournament. I assume that you would want the same thing that we do, in that we will agree to not kill one another, to the best of our ability.”

  “Yeah, that’s reasonable,” Sam replied. “I can go with that. Jacob?”

  Jacob nodded his agreement. “I see no need to kill any of you, though I will pay you back for this, Eglas. Prepare yourself. I won’t be this weak next time we fight.”

  Eglas let out a booming laugh. “You are an ant, Jacob Atlas. I am only G Rank at this moment. I will be far stronger than this by the tournament.”

  Jacob’s lips tightened, but he held his tongue.

  Sam snapped his fingers, remembering something. “Right. I have a special request for you, Karamodo. You are the greatest smith amongst your people. Could you make a hammer for me, one that suits my current strength? I’m willing to bargain for it.”

  “A hammer?” Karamodo frowned, looking Sam up and down. “You are somewhere around the low to mid end of D Rank in power. That will be a challenge.” He grinned. “One that I am happy to undertake. I will make it for you as a gesture of friendship. No need to bargain.”

  “What Karamodo actually means,” Anrya said snidely, “is that he is an addict when it comes to forging. He would forge a world for free if it could further his craft.”

  “As you would posture before your coven of priestesses to further your own nature,” Karamodo replied. “We are gods, sister. I am not just a smith. I am, to an extent, smithing itself.”

  Sam watched the exchange, a bit confused by what the Grakoth were saying. He still couldn’t really wrap his head around the whole collective unconscious thing. It was very different to his experiences with the System. He hadn’t known that there were alternative progression methods to the Dao and the System. Now that he did, it was a whole new paradigm that he had to grasp.

  “Just how powerful will you grow as you ascend the Ranks?” Sam asked. “Will there even be a point in a tournament if there are other beings like you. Why not just watch you all duke it out from the sidelines?”

  Eglas smiled. “That is my opinion of the matter as well. There is little point in having a tournament without any challenge present.”

  “You won’t be so confident when you have to face me,” Jacob declared. “I will defeat you. I swear it on my Dao.”

  A nova of scarlet light exploded out from him as he said those words, sealing his promise with the assurance of his supremacy. Eglas took a single step back as he was buffeted by the blast, his face twisting in anger as he realized what he had done.

  “I believe it is time we left,” Anrya quickly interjected. “The Lycanthi are beginning to encroach on our outer borders. The Godhead moves swiftly.”

  “I shall remain here for some time,” Karamodo said. “I can make Sam’s hammer with what I have on hand. He will need to be present for the binding process, however.”

  “Do what you will,” Anrya answered. “Eglas and myself are more than enough for the current threat. You will be needed soon, though. The flagship still needs to be completed. You have to be there for that.”

  A noise like thunder rippled through the temple. Anrya and Eglas seemed to stretch out, their spirits moving through time and space while their bodies lagged behind. With twinned booms, they broke through an invisible barrier, disappearing from sight. One moment they were there, the next they were gone.

  Karamodo turned to Sam, clapping his hands together. “I look forward to working with you. My understanding is that you are something of a smith yourself?”

  Sam waved his hand noncommittally. “Eh, I dabble. My mastery is nothing compared to someone like you.”

  “I’ll go back to Earth. We need at least one of us available for defence,” Jacob said. Before Sam or Karamodo could say anything, he teleported away.

  “That is an interesting companion you have there,” Karamodo observed, looking at where Jacob had stood. “What is he to you? A brother? A father? I can sense the familial ties.”

  “He’s my father,” Sam explained. “There are some… extenuating circumstances. He was cursed by an A Ranker. Part of some complicated game she was playing to develop my strength. I don’t fully understand it.”

  “An A Ranker. My understanding is that those are the beings who stand at the peak of existence, just behind the System?”

  “I’ve recently learned that might not be entirely true,” Sam admitted. “I’m not sure about that, though. To my knowledge, nobody in this Multiverse has seen anything beyond them. Other than the System’s agents.”

  “Really?” Karamodo asked, his eyes lighting up. “There is something beyond those who an entire Multiverse worship as deities? How unfathomably powerful would a being like that be?”

  “Powerful enough that-” a System message popped up in front of Sam.

  Do not continue down this line of conversation. This is your only warning. You will not enjoy the consequences of ignoring it.

  Pain started to burn within Sam’s head, quickly growing until he clapped his hands to his temple, groaning slightly. It vanished just as quickly, but the memory remained. That was a warning?

  “Perhaps we should continue with what we came here to do?” Karamodo suggested. “That hammer will not create itself.”

  “How long will it take?” Sam asked. “A few days?”

  “That is up to you. I do not work like a typical smith. My weapons, those I am proud of at least, are bonded to their wielder on a conceptual level. I have long since gone beyond the creation of such meagre things as swords or axes. I craft fleets of battleships that could scour a world to ashes in a matter of hours. Dyson Spheres and the like. Returning to my original craft will test me.”

  “In what way?”

  “In that my standards have become astronomically higher than they were before. Can I craft a weapon capable of standing amidst my greatest creations?” Karamodo’s fingers twitched, as if grasping for an invisible hammer. “That is what we must find out.”