Chosun's posture shifted from reverence to defiance, his jaw clenching as he stared at the god.

"What are you doing here, Lord Vardin?" he demanded, voice rough with barely contained fury.

Vardin tilted his head slightly, his golden eyes reflecting no emotion. "I was about to ask you the same question, Chosun the Mighty. What exactly do you think you and your men are doing in this forgotten place?"

"Exacting justice," Chosun replied, straightening despite his wounds. "Avenging our fallen god, Lord Kaldos."

The air around Vardin seemed to thicken, reality bending subtly as he took a single step forward. "You lie."

My sensors on my tendrils detected the minute changes in atmospheric pressure as the god's power rippled outward. The remaining warriors shifted uneasily, their grips on their weapons tightening.

"I am Vardin, God of Science and Knowledge," he continued, his voice calm yet somehow filling the entire street. "The Lord of Truth. Ferreting out falsehoods is something of a specialty of mine, and you, Chosun, reek of deception."

I kept my tendrils positioned defensively, monitoring both Chosun and Vardin simultaneously. Beside me, Arctur had managed to stand, though he leaned heavily against a wall.

"You came to steal the Godseed from its rightful possessor," Vardin said, gesturing toward me with a casual flick of his wrist. "To take it before its current bearer could reach full potential."

Chosun's face darkened, knuckles whitening around his sword hilt.

Vardin continued, his tone almost conversational. "If you truly wished to claim the Mantle of Enmity through legitimate means, you would challenge Vardiel when the Godseed has hatched and they have become a true god. That is the way of succession, is it not?"

"You're only here because you fear me gaining the power of Enmity!" Chosun snarled, spittle flying from his lips. He turned to his remaining men. "Keep the god busy while I finish this abomination. Vardin won't interfere once the Mantle passes! That's divine law!"

The warriors exchanged nervous glances, none moving to obey. The one-armed Assassin let out a bitter laugh.

"You've lost your mind, Chosun," he said, backing away. "Attack a god? That's beyond stupid, even for you."

"Do as I command!" Chosun roared.

The Assassin's expression hardened. "Go fuck yourself, Chosun!" He dissolved into shadow, vanishing completely.

The remaining warriors looked between their commander and the god, indecision plain on their faces. Several began edging backward.

Chosun's expression contorted with rage. "Run, and I will personally slaughter every member of your families," he promised, voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "Your wives, your children, your parents! All of them will die screaming your names."

The threat froze them in place, terror warring with self-preservation in their eyes.

Vardin watched this exchange with the detached interest of a scientist observing specimens in a petri dish. His golden eyes revealed nothing of his thoughts, but the air around him continued to shimmer with barely restrained power.

Chosun's face contorted with fury as he bellowed, "Kill them all! The god first!"

Three warriors charged toward Vardin, weapons raised. Their bravery was admirable, and utterly futile.

The scarf around Vardin's neck uncoiled with blinding speed. In that instant, I realized it wasn't a scarf at all.

The fabric sleeve fell away, revealing a massive, alien limb. It was multi-jointed and sinewy, eerily similar to my own tendrils but far more powerful. It moved with horrifying grace, wielding what could only be described as a colossal wedge-shaped blade of gleaming silver material.

One fluid arc. Three bodies separated cleanly at the waist.

Blood sprayed in perfect arcs as the bisected warriors collapsed, their expressions still locked in determination as their upper halves slid from their lower bodies. The wet sounds of their organs spilling onto the cobblestones seemed unnaturally loud in the sudden silence.

My sensors registered the material of the blade and saw that it was unlike any metal I had encountered. The limb retracted slightly, the weapon now slick with crimson.

"Attack, damn you all!" Chosun roared, his composure completely shattered. "Or die where you stand!"

The remaining warriors hesitated, but their fear of Chosun apparently outweighed their fear of Vardin. They began to spread out, looking for tactical advantage.

Chosun himself lunged directly toward me, his sword describing a perfect arc meant to cleave through my war frame. My tendrils unfurled in defensive formation as I raised my sword-lance to parry his strike. At level 100, his strength would be immense, but my calculations indicated I could at least deflect his initial attack.

I never got the chance to test that theory.

Vardin's hand emerged from his robes, holding a small, compact device I didn't recognize. He aimed it casually at the charging Black Knight.

POP!

The sound was sharp and concussive; nothing like a spell discharge or even the loud crack of my sword-lance. Chosun's forward momentum faltered as a small hole appeared in his armor.

POP! POP! POP! POP!

More holes blossomed across his chest plate, each accompanied by that same sharp report. Blood began to seep through the perforations, first in droplets, then in streams.

Chosun looked down at his chest, his expression transforming from rage to utter bewilderment. His sword slipped from his fingers, clattering against the cobblestones. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but only blood bubbled forth before he toppled backward.

The God of Science and Knowledge didn't pause. With mechanical precision, he pressed something on the device that caused a metal container to drop from its grip. In one smooth motion, he inserted another identical container, then raised the weapon toward the remaining warriors.

POP! POP! POP!

One by one, they fell. Each shot created a perfect hole through armor, flesh, and bone. My mind struggled to understand the weapon's mechanics; the projectiles moved faster than my sensors could track, and the damage pattern suggested incredible penetrating power.

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"Please!" One warrior dropped his sword, raising his hands. "I surrender! I-"

POP!

A hole appeared in the center of his forehead. He collapsed like a puppet with cut strings.

Silence descended over the street, broken only by the soft patter of blood dripping onto stone. Six elite warriors and their level 100 commander lay dead, defeated not in glorious combat but with casual, methodical efficiency.

Vardin holstered the strange weapon inside his robes. The massive alien arm coiled around his neck once more, the blade vanishing into what I recognized as his own version of Depository. Within seconds, he appeared normal again: just a regal-looking man with golden eyes, the grotesque limb hidden beneath the appearance of an ordinary scarf.

He turned to me, his expression unreadable.

"That's that."

I turned to Vardin, the carnage around us fading to the background of my awareness. How did you find us?

Vardin smiled thinly, his golden eyes gleaming with something between amusement and calculation. "I've been keeping an eye on you since our first meeting."

My Mind Sight immediately ran a sweep of our surroundings. I deployed my scout spiders to search for surveillance devices, wondering if he had his own version of my mechanical observers tracking our movements.

"You won't be able to see my spies," Vardin said, noticing my search. He gestured upward with one elegant finger. "Look up."

I tilted my head back, mental sight scanning the clear blue expanse above. Nothing registered beyond clouds, atmospheric particles, and the distant sun.

I see nothing, I admitted.

"Precisely." Vardin's smile widened fractionally. "I have 'eyes' in geo-synchronous orbit around the planet, tracking your location at all times. The technology is... somewhat beyond current understanding."

I processed this information, calculating the implications. That would require artificial satellites with incredible resolution capabilities, maintained at precise altitudes to-

"Yes, yes," he interrupted with a dismissive wave. "The specifics aren't important."

Arctur limped toward us, his wound still leaking blood despite his regenerative abilities. "Why help us?" he asked, voicing the question that had been forming in my mind.

I nodded. You've gone to considerable trouble. What purpose does assisting me serve?

Vardin's expression softened almost imperceptibly. "I'm not entirely certain myself." He looked away, toward the ruins of Calsor. "Perhaps it's guilt for killing you and taking your Mantle all those millennia ago. Or maybe, since you carry fragments of my memories, I see you as something of a younger brother." He shrugged. "Regardless, I intend to keep you safe for as long as I'm able."

The concept of brotherhood was foreign to my programming, but something in his words resonated with the borrowed memories that occasionally surfaced in my consciousness. Before I could analyze this further, Arctur's voice interrupted.

"This level 100 bastard's still alive," he called, standing over Chosun's bloodied form.

Vardin and I approached. Chosun lay sprawled on the cobblestones, his armor punctured in multiple places, blood pooling beneath him. His eyes remained open, glaring up at us with undiluted hatred. His lips moved, but only produced wet, gurgling sounds as blood trickled from the corners of his mouth. When he attempted to reach for a dagger at his belt, his arm twitched uselessly.

"Fortunate," Vardin remarked coldly. He turned to me. "Kill him. Claim his levels."

I stared down at the helpless man. Despite everything Chosun had done (the ambush, threatening my companions, the lives he'd taken) executing him in this state felt wrong.

He's no longer a threat, I said. This would be murder, not combat.

Vardin sighed, the sound heavy with annoyance. "How can you still be so naive? Have your experiences so far with showing enemies mercy taught you nothing?" He shook his head. "I can't blame you entirely. It's my younger self's morals holding you back."

He gestured toward Chosun. "This is a prime opportunity. Killing him will grant you fifteen, perhaps twenty levels. The sooner you reach level 100 and unlock the Mantle of Enmity, the better equipped you'll be to defend against the other gods and their proxies."

Still I hesitated, struggling with the ethical calculations.

"Men like Chosun never surrender," Vardin continued, his voice hardening. "He will heal, and he will hunt you again and again. He might even target those you care about to draw you out."

When I remained motionless, Vardin reached into his robes and withdrew the strange weapon he'd used earlier. He aimed it at Chosun's head.

"If you won't kill him, I will."

The finality in his voice forced my decision. Before I could reconsider, I lashed out with one of my tendrils. The dragon head clamped down on Chosun's throat, serrated teeth tearing through flesh and bone. His eyes widened momentarily before going dull, his final breath escaping in a wet rattle.

As life left him, something extraordinary happened. Power… raw, undiluted experience, surged through my damaged body. My systems registered unprecedented energy influx, circuits and mana conduits blazing with newfound strength.

A system notification materialized before me:

Congratulations! You have defeated <Chosun the Mighty - Level 100> and have received experience. You have gained 22 levels! You are now Level 76!

The numbers flickered before me, confirmation of how much closer I'd come to awakening the Godseed of Enmity within me.

"Excellent," Vardin said, watching Chosun's lifeless body with cold satisfaction. "Twenty-two levels in one kill. Impressive, even by my standards."

I retracted my blood-soaked tendril, cleaning it with a quick flick against the cobblestones.

Arctur limped closer, placing a scaled hand on my metal shoulder. "You did what was necessary," he said, voice low and serious.

I knew they were right. The logical calculations supported their conclusion. Chosun would have continued hunting me, perhaps targeting those I'd come to consider companions. Yet something in me, perhaps in the fragmented memories of Vardin's younger self, rebelled against the cold execution of a helpless opponent.

It feels... wrong, I admitted, my mental voice projecting with less certainty than usual.

"Morality is a luxury," Vardin replied, turning away. "One that gods and those who would become gods can rarely afford."

He began walking toward the edge of the street, his movements graceful and unhurried.

You're leaving? I asked.

"I've interfered enough for one day," he said without looking back. "The other gods will have sensed my power signature already. Best not to linger."

Will we see you again?

"I'll stay in touch," he replied cryptically. "When you need me most, perhaps."

Casper suddenly registered in my awareness, his absence a glaring omission in my tactical calculations.

Wait, I called. One of our party is missing. Casper fought Chosun before we were separated. He may be injured or-

"Your Berserker friend is safe," Vardin interrupted, finally turning to face me. "I found him before locating you. Quite impressive, really; he managed to kill seventeen of Chosun's elite warriors, even managing to go toe-to-toe with the Black Knight, before succumbing to his wounds."

Relief filtered through my circuits. Is he alive?

"Barely," Vardin admitted. "Multiple punctured organs, significant blood loss, a collapsed lung, loss of two limbs. But under my care, he should make a full recovery."

When can we expect his return? I queried, already calculating revised travel timelines.

Vardin's expression hardened. "You won't. Not for some time. His injuries require extensive healing; weeks, possibly months. You must continue your journey without him."

I processed this unwelcome development. Casper's combat capabilities had been a significant factor in our group's survival strategy.

Thank you for saving him, I said finally.

Vardin simply nodded, then his form began to shimmer. His body dissolved into particles; not dust or ash, but something that resembled microscopic machines, glinting in the sunlight before dispersing entirely.

I turned to Arctur, who leaned heavily against a wall, blood still seeping from his wound despite his reptilian regenerative abilities.

We should return to Calsor, I suggested while picking up and putting on my widow's cloak. Find a healer for your injuries.

Arctur shook his head firmly. "No time. Chosun might not be the only champion the human gods have sent after us. We need to put distance between ourselves and this place."

You're severely wounded, I pointed out.

"I'll manage," he insisted, straightening despite the obvious pain. "My kind heals quickly. The wound looks worse than it is."

I analyzed his statement, detecting the falsehood but understanding his reasoning. Without further debate, I extended two tendrils, carefully wrapping them around his torso.

"What are you-" he began as I lifted him from the ground.

You said we need to move quickly, I reminded him, already striding toward the distant Shorkath Mountains. This is the most efficient solution.

Arctur's expression soured, but he didn't protest further as I carried him away from the carnage, my sensors constantly scanning for new threats. Behind us, the bodies of Chosun and his warriors grew smaller, their blood pooling on ancient cobblestones; one more tragedy in a city that had seen too many.

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