A Novel Concept - A death a day, MC will live anyway!

The fog retreated, but the arena remained concealed, as if the Colosseum itself was reminding Priam that the run wasn’t over. He smirked slightly.

“As if I’d leave now.”

He had eleven hours left to push as far as he could through the waves and wasn’t about to waste another minute on idle chatter. Now that he was shielded from view by his new gate, he could finally play some of his trump cards.

Just as he prepared to resume the run, his body started to tremble. Priam frowned. With his dexterity and [Micro], this was impossible. Was this some kind of payback? He had just banished billions of spies and figured some wouldn’t take kindly to it.

Feeling blood drip from his nose, Priam searched for an explanation. When he found it, he cursed. His brain was bleeding. Most people would have panicked at the thought of a cerebral hemorrhage, but not Priam. With [He Who Eludes Death] primed, he knew he would survive. Instead of fear, frustration knotted his gut. The lack of response from his resistances signaled that the problem was exotic. This had to be connected to his temperance.

Was the issue tied to his new gate? It made no sense—he had done everything right! He had even overclocked his add-on to ensure he fully understood the instructions from Heavenly Dragon. The gate’s creation had gone flawlessly. If there had been a runic issue, the structure would have exploded.

As he fell to his knees, blood now streaming from his ears, Priam tried to figure it out. Was there a conflict between his body and the tempering method? The die he had stolen from Kazuki tailored the process to its user. Since his first trip to Valaryth, Priam had upgraded his race to Homo Elysian. Could Heavenly Dragon’s method be outdated? Or maybe it was a curse from the second Terror? The Prince still existed in this timeline, and its core was the twin of his gate’s trophy.

Ideas clashed in his mind until the System offered a clue.

[Chimera - Gold] is ready for evolution. Presence of a catalyst detected.

“...Fuck,” he muttered, reading the first part of the message. “FUCK!” he barked when he saw the price Concepts demanded for their assistance. Tourists get fleeced less in souvenir shops. The System was milking him dry.

Focus! he scolded himself as his vision blurred. Think!

Originally, [Chimera] allowed his body to adapt to opposing elements. As it evolved, this trait had intensified. Thanks to the message, Priam could narrow down the possibilities. His stomach clenched, and he spat blood onto the arena sand. Wiping his mouth, he realized blood was leaking from every orifice. This was bad.

Closing his eyes, Priam forced himself to stay calm. Ignoring the spasms wracking his frame, he focused inward. IfDomain was a sphere of perception and authority, Micro was the perfect tool to understand his body. Concentrating on the Supremacy, Priam recognized that his body was breaking down. His cells were self-destructing en masse, a raging fever was sapping his strength, and the spasms had become uncontrollable. The pain was sharp, like acid flooding his veins, but that was an old friend by now. Humans could get used to anything—even agony.

What worried him was how fast the phenomenon was spreading. Starting from his head, it was quickly engulfing his entire body. A parallel thought found a possible explanation. His physical tempering had triggered changes in his status.

Bloodlines:

• Phoenix: 2%

• Dragon: 1%

According to Heavenly Dragon, each gate purified his draconic bloodline. Until now, Priam had thought that was a good thing. Then he remembered the phoenix’s warning: starting his physical tempering would accelerate [Chimera]’s evolution. A Talent designed to help my body handle conflicting elements. Bloodlines too?

Kneeling, Priam endured a violent convulsion, understanding why most people only cultivated one bloodline at a time. Inside him, a dragon and a phoenix were warring, and he wasn’t strong enough to break them up.

[Chimera - Gold] is ready for evolution. Presence of a catalyst detected.

Use 8 159 POT to trigger evolution?

“Ah.” His bloodstained mouth curved into a grin. The System wasn’t offering him any discounts; it was his own body syncing with [Chimera]. Where others needed Potential to bridge reality with a possible future, [Homo Elysian Obsession] was doing it on its own.

Priam just had to hold out long enough. Collapsing onto the arena floor, he closed his eyes and concentrated on his body. With any luck, this forced shutdown would teach him something.

[Chimera - Gold] is evolving…

[Chimera - Legendary] - Your body and mind can cope better with the simultaneous presence of opposing elements and bloodlines. Your biological and spiritual systems will adapt to many changes.

Priam cracked open a dull eye. He closed it again when he realized he was blind. It didn’t matter. The destruction of his body had stopped.

"...No, it’s just slowed," he rasped. Better than nothing. Especially since I can push [Chimera] to the seraphic level.

Wiping the dried blood from his eyes and nose, he reread the updated description of his Talent. The System had highlighted ‘bloodline.’ The addition was welcome, but Priam wasn’t fooled for a second. The legendary Talent didn’t let him wield two bloodlines. Not yet, anyway. For now, it just stopped them from tearing him apart. That’s something, at least.

Reviewing his status, Priam realized how lucky he was that his phoenix and draconic bloodlines were still so weak. Otherwise, his body would’ve been ripped apart by their conflict. Still, he wasn’t about to leave things as they were. The obvious solution was to improve [Chimera] further, in hopes of reconciling them—or at least suppressing their war.

As useful as the legendary upgrade was, it was merely a stepping stone to something truly exceptional. Priam drew out the Seraphic Token he had earned from defeating Sumstreh in the erased timeline. Before he could use it, the System intervened once more.

[Chimera - Legendary] is ready for evolution. Presence of a catalyst detected.

Use 21 709 POT to trigger evolution?

“Absolutely not!” Priam laughed, stopping mid-gesture. There was little chance he would get enough Potential to upgrade [Chimera] to seraphic rarity, but if his legendary adaptation could catalyze the Talent’s evolution by itself, he saw no reason to interfere. It would be an interesting event to observe and study, offering insight into his own abilities. That was how he had upgraded [Three-Headed Hydra], and it might just provide the inspiration to replicate that success.

Speaking of my Hydra Title… His body was a wreck, and Priam made the call to burn some of his lifespan to heal quickly. One of the Colosseum’s rewards being a Token that could restore his youth, he could afford the expensive healing.

A few minutes later, Priam stood, fully regenerated. Despite the bloodlines warring within him, he smiled. [Chimera] had evolved, his resistances—sealed by his Potential to avoid triggering new Tribulations—had improved, and his draconic bloodline had been purified. Sure, he had suffered, but suffering was par for the course by now.

“It’s strange the System hasn’t offered me [Pain Resistance] yet. Either it thinks I’m a masochist, or it considers it redundant with Micro…”

Since the Supremacy only governed physical suffering, the second hypothesis seemed unlikely. Smiling, Priam accepted that he didn’t want to lose his connection to pain. Maybe it was stupid, but the sensation made him feel worthy of the rewards he earned. And if I ever run into someone wielding the Pain Concept, they’ll be in for a nasty surprise…

Jasmine Kaldwin (83) asks to spectate you.

Kazuki Arashi (83) asks to spectate you.

Raising an eyebrow, Priam approved the demands. If Esmée had made the same request, he would have probably refused, but he had nothing to hide from his two friends.

The fog remained dense, and for a moment, he wondered if the spectators could even see what was happening. Shrugging it off, Priam resumed his run.

A crack of thunder announced the arrival of the monster. When a massive greatsword sliced through the mist, heading straight for him, Priam realized the Colosseum’s format shifted after wave eighty. The days of small fry softening up the gladiator for the boss were over. From now on, every wave would bring an elite. Better that way.

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Priam ducked under the blade, barely avoiding decapitation by a hair’s breadth. At the same time, he summoned an ice spear, launching it at his opponent. It hit hard, though it didn’t seem to cause any damage. Still, it gave Priam the chance to retreat and size up his foe.

Standing before him was a colossus—three times his height, with arms the size of tree trunks and eyes that gleamed blood-red. Its horns, skeletal grimace, and that massive greatsword were disturbingly familiar.

[Identification]

[Zelgius the Apocryphal - Tier 0 - Duke] - The clone of a great warrior at the start of his journey.

The massacre of his village hadn’t gone unnoticed, and Zelgius was hunted by investigators, police, and eventually soldiers. After an entire regiment was lost, the army of his homeworld called in the Mercenary Guild. For the first time, Zelgius faced opponents stronger than him.

Mortally wounded, he was left for dead in a reeking ditch. The sun set, but Zelgius clung to life. His desire for revenge burned hotter than death itself.

He spent his eighteenth birthday holding his guts inside his belly.

This is his clone at the time of those events.

“A kindred spirit,” Priam smirked.

A blink nearly cost him his life. His opponent had seemingly teleported, the greatsword now so close that Priam didn’t have time to dodge. The enemy’s Weapon Mastery promised to slice through even his mist form. Without Promesse to block, Priam had no choice but to rely on his bare hands.

The impact rattled his bones, his joints screaming in protest. Shocked that he was still alive, Priam was even more surprised to discover that he had stopped the attack. Neither the sharp blade nor its deadly momentum had cut through his hands. Yet, a similar strike had gutted him only hours earlier, and this Zelgius was no weaker than his younger clone.

There could only be one explanation: the spectral scales he had instinctively summoned had saved him. Draconic scales...

Ignoring Priam’s musings, the beastman grunted, trying to wrench his weapon free. His massive muscles struggled against Priam’s kinetic control—and failed. The greatsword was stuck in the Champion’s grip.

Priam could have ended the fight right then by summoning a thousand ice spears to shred his opponent, but he had another idea. If his scales had grown stronger after his bloodline's purification, perhaps his other draconic talents had improved as well?

Summoning two ice spears, he pinned his opponent’s feet to the ground, then opened his mouth and inhaled. In a split second, the ambient aether rushed into his spiritual lung, compacting.

Zelgius roared, throwing a wild hook at Priam’s face. Forewarned by his sharpened instincts, Priam dodged, unleashing his Breath to engulf the beastman.

When the blinding flash faded, all that remained of the giant were his feet, still trapped by the ice spears.

“That’s just bullshit,” Jasmine muttered. “Even a complete moron could become a Duke with that kind of power.”

“That’s a bit harsh on Priam,” Kazuki said, inspecting his spear. Zelgius’s last attack had bent it out of shape.

“That’s not what I meant!”

The hoplite grinned and pointed at Priam in the center of the arena. Their friend couldn’t see them, likely surrounded by thick fog, but neither Kazuki nor Jasmine had any trouble watching him. “How far do you think he’ll go?”

Jasmine fell silent for a moment, her gray eyes studying their leader. Despite her admiration for Priam, her training forced her to remain objective. An assassin without critical thinking didn’t last long. “I’m not sure. The fifth Zelgius is a real monster. Did you kill him?”

“No. However, I could have taken him down with Knightmare.”

“And I could catch Priam off guard if I fought him naked. Doesn’t mean it’d be a real victory.”

Kazuki grunted but didn’t dignify her with a response. Deep down, he knew she was right. If he needed anything other than a spear to win, it wasn’t a clean victory.

A whisper urged Priam to lift his leg, and he obeyed. A fraction of a second later, the fist of the wave eighty-two boss slammed into the same spot. His draconic scales buckled but held firm. Beneath them, his flesh compressed painfully, yet [Sun Steel Body] held. Still, he would have a nasty bruise in a few minutes. Goddamn monster.

The colossus’s effective strength had to be over five thousand. How it was still Tier 0 was a mystery. That this version of Zelgius was considered a weak Duke made even less sense.

Priam leapt backward, dodging the incoming greatsword as it sliced through the air with a shriek. He fired three supersonic ice darts at his opponent, but they shattered against its skin without leaving a mark. The enemy’s hide could have shrugged off missiles.

Grimacing, the young warrior began summoning an ice spear, reinforcing it with Spear Mastery. Against such a high-level tank, he realized that, except for his Breath, his offensive abilities were limited. Pyro would normally work, but the beastman’s Fear Concept kept his flames at bay.

Darting forward, Priam imagined striking at the beastman’s back. Confused, the colossus glanced behind him, only to earn a slash across his leg for his trouble. Priam’s smile turned wicked. His improved draconic instinct now allowed him to manipulate [Homo Elysian Predation], albeit crudely. He was nowhere near Jasmine’s level but could at least mess with the beastman’s elemental instinct.

Staying close to his opponent to limit his movements, Priam began to dance around him. He dodged the giant’s blows with lightning-fast bursts of speed, courtesy of [Kinetic Control], disrupted his instincts whenever possible, and kept drawing blood.

Twenty minutes later, the ground trembled. Wiping the sweat from his brow, Priam surveyed his fallen opponent, a thousand cuts marking its defeat.

“I really need to upgrade Promesse…”

Against serious foes, his lack of raw offensive power was becoming glaringly obvious. Reforging his bound weapon seemed like the best way to close that gap in the short term.

Glancing at his notifications, Priam frowned. The coma from evolving [Chimera] had cost him precious time. Less than an hour remained before he had to return to Elysium. He had achieved his main objectives, but the upcoming rewards were still too tempting to pass up, especially with his Tribulations approaching. Resolving not to waste any more time, Priam annihilated the next version of Zelgius with a single Breath.

The gong rang again, introducing the fifth version of the beastman. This one stood silent, as though the fire of youth had left him. His steady grip on his greatsword, however, betrayed the sharpened edge of his martial mastery.

[Identification]

[Zelgius the Apocryphal - Tier 0 - Duke] - The clone of a great warrior at the zenith of his journey.

Wandering the ruins of his world, Zelgius’s rest was only disturbed by the arrival of Mercenaries hunting his bounty. Scarred from countless battles, he tempered his body through combat while honing his Supremacies. Refusing to be baptized by aether, he tormented the Tier 0s of Sector Hope foolish enough to track him.

Then, at the zenith of his journey, he ennobled his mind. For the first time since his birth, the rage left his eyes, and vengeance left his heart.

Zelgius looked at his bloody hands and wept.

At dusk, he cursed the world for his own mistakes. In return, the world cursed him back.

This is his clone at the time of those events.

The boss of wave eighty-four was undoubtedly the final version of Zelgius before he became an Apocryphal. Priam reread the description several times, his instincts telling him the System was trying to convey something.

“Tempered his body, ennobled his mind, baptized his soul… Cursed by the world, he became Apocryphal?”

“I curse the Concepts, not the world,” a gravelly voice said.

“You can talk?” Priam asked, startled. The beastman raised an eyebrow, and Priam added. “Your other selves weren’t chatty.”

“En garde,” the boss replied simply.

“Wait! What does it mean to ennoble one’s mind?”

The beastman attacked without more warning. Priam almost blocked with his hand, but his instincts screamed at him not to. This was the ultimate Zelgius and a true Duke.

Instead, the Champion stepped back, diverting the attack with his ice spear. The beastman’s greatsword sliced clean through the summoned weapon. As Priam glanced at the opponent’s aura, recognition dawned—it was the same as Kazuki's Spear Mastery II. The Duke in front of him wielded a Supremacy that should have been far beyond a Tier 0.

Shit. One hit, and it’s game over.

Priam conjured ice plates beneath the Duke’s hooves, hoping to slow him down, but the beastman remained firmly planted, steady as a mountain goat. Even trying to manipulate his opponent’s instincts was a bust. The bastard was unnervingly calm. Forced to retreat, Priam began riding his mist to dodge the beastman’s aggressive lunges, burning through his energy reserves with each evasion.

While he dodged, Priam studied his adversary. Zelgius wasn’t just swinging his greatsword like a brute anymore; now he wielded it like a master. His stats were clearly through the roof, and his Concept was canceling out Pyro on contact. Without a weapon, Priam’s options were limited. He conjured dozens of supersonic ice spears, but Zelgius deflected every single one with ease. Gritting his teeth, Priam poured his Spear Mastery into one of the spears, imbuing it with a terrifying amount of kinetic energy. His meridians trembled as the weapon shot forward at hypersonic speed.

With a deft flick of his wrist, Zelgius managed to deflect the spear, but a shard nicked his arm, drawing blood. He glanced at the wound in mild surprise, watching the crimson liquid trickle down.

“I don’t like the way you fight,” Zelgius grumbled.

“Tough luck,” Priam shot back, summoning another spear. His plan hit a snag when Zelgius' scars began to glow. They formed a series of horrific runes that resonated with something deep within his body. A core? A fulcrum?

The ritual engraved on Zelgius’ skin activated, and Priam felt a lock clamp down on his Concepts and aether. His mist responded sluggishly, and Pyro was reduced to a pathetic flicker. The ice spear in his hand began to crack, so Priam tossed it aside in disgust. The ground trembled—Zelgius had leapt straight at him.

Priam grunted, activating Micro to overclock his muscles, dodging the incoming strike while opening his mouth. He hated to spam this ability, but right now, it was his only shot at victory. A bitter pill to swallow, but Priam couldn’t ignore the truth.

His draconic lung expanded, and the air around him shuddered. The aether, momentarily frozen by the ritual, hesitated before being drawn into Priam’s throat. The Duke’s spell shattered, crushed beneath the weight of draconic authority. A fraction of a second later, Priam unleashed his Breath.

Light spear, infernal pillar, destructive beam, annihilating laser—the draconic attack was all of these and so much more. Heralding the apocalypse, the Breath erased everything in its path.

The flash of light was blinding, and the shockwave scattered the mist, making Priam’s ears ring. It was as if a nuke had just gone off. When the brightness faded to tolerable levels, the Champion surveyed his opponent. Zelgius, arms flayed and bleeding, was barely standing, using his greatsword as a crutch. The blade itself glowed red and was riddled with cracks. Still, the beastman’s eyes gleamed with pride.

“A draconic Breath... I, Zelgius, blocked it!” he roared.

“Famous last words,” Priam smirked before opening his mouth wide again.

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