“Shit.”
Neil Prand clenched his fists. He clenched them so tightly that his nails pierced his skin and blood flowed. However, he himself didn’t even realise this. Mind numbing despair and a sense of shame masked the pain.
‘I couldn’t stop it...’
He knew in advance that something unusual was going to happen in the [Next Stage]. He’d come here to prevent that, but he couldn’t change anything.
It wasn’t an artificial island at all.
It was a gigantic aerial warship that could turn an entire area into powder... Shortly after he’d realised this fact, the massacre in Manjuri City took place.
“...you knew, didn’t you?”
Neil’s burning gaze turned towards his side.
Retip, who was reading a book with his chin in his hand, looked over at him with an annoyed expression.
“What?”
“About the massacre that was going to happen in this place.”
“Your words are gradually getting more impolite.”
Smiling, Retip closed his book.
“Right. I had a rough idea. But what about it? Does knowing in advance give me a reason to stop it?”
“...isn’t that why you accompanied me?”
“Not at all. I told you. You and I just have overlapping destinations.”
“...”
“More than that, I’m very displeased with your behaviour, Neil Prand. Why did it change so much? Looking at your actions, I can’t help but feel sick sometimes.”
Neil couldn’t help but ask back strangely.
“Roaming the world preventing conflicts among the various forces, gathering orphans, and eliminating war. Is there any part of this behaviour that can make you feel sick?”
“Are you trying to talk to me about human ethical beliefs?”
“...”
“I’m talking about change. It’s your changed attitude that is disgusting. Didn’t you decide to live only for Americans?”
Neil remained silent for a moment then opened his mouth.
“You said that we had overlapping destinations.”
Retip obediently accepted Neil’s change of subject.
“Right.”
“What is your goal?”
“That...”
Suddenly.
Retip turned to look out the window, put his book down, and stood to his feet.
“It seems I have to go.”
“Where?”
Retip smiled roughly.
“To where my master calls.”
* * *
“─I never expected to get such an opportunity.”
Smiling, Retip spread out his arms.
Boom! A bolt of lightning struck down from the sky before transforming into a spear and was caught in Retip’s hand.
Soul Weapon, Astrafe.
In the Lightning God’s residence [Thunder Planet].
Once every 100,000 years, the most ferocious bolt of lightning would strike, and the soul weapon [Astrafe] was formed after the Lightning God gathered one hundred of these lightning bolts and refined them into a weapon.
Feeling the electricity in his hand, Retip’s smile deepened.
“Has it been 300 years since I last brought this out?”
[...]
“Why aren’t you saying anything? Aren’t you the one that’s going to fight for your life from now on?”
[Make me fight for my life. Someone like you?]
Once again, Pale’s attitude was dry.
In the first place, there was only one being that could stop her from maintaining her demeanour as the Blue Knight.
She swung her drawn sword.
Clang!
Pale’s slash was blocked by a series of fierce lightning bolts from Astrafe. Feeling the heavy sensation in his hands, Retip almost burst into laughter.
‘If it wasn’t for Astrafe, my arm would have been blown off.’
However... that was not the answer.
While it might not be impossible, such a fusion would change the main principle.
Thunder would become the lead, and magic would be downgraded to an auxiliary role.
In other words, mixing Thunder with magic, the difference would be huge.
Of course, the destructive power would be tremendous. It would no doubt be great enough to deal effective damage to Pale.
But.
‘No.’
There had already been an ‘opportunity’ to do so.
Immediately after he’d accepted Thunder into his body, just as he’d been infected by the feeling of omnipotence, the moment he’d lost consciousness in the raging torrent.
At that moment, it was none other than the Lightning God who had slapped the near collapsed Lukas on the cheek.
The Lightning God didn’t want that option.
And he could now be sure. That the Lightning God’s restraint was for him.
‘The capacity of Thunder is not just destruction.’
He recalled.
In the imaginary world, how did the Lightning God fight?
He was the person who had observed battles with the Rulers the most. He hadn’t taken his eyes off for a moment, and analysed the Lightning God’s power. Then he’d realised.
‘This guy doesn’t fight in a fixed pattern.’
Different methods, different habits, different patterns.
The Lightning God’s fighting style was filled with countless habits, endless changes, and a near infinite number of things.
At first, he thought that every Ruler was like this, but that wasn’t the case. The Demon God didn’t have many changes. He knew this because he’d fought him personally.
In other words, the display of so many fighting styles was also a part of the Lightning God’s authority...
‘How?’
Was it because he’d lived too long? There wasn’t enough evidence. He had to think about it in relation to Thunder.
Disorganised words floated in his head without any connection, as if his thoughts had been broken and every piece had their own will.
Lukas let it be.
He randomly spread the disorganised information out and analysed them all at the same time.
Thunder, thunder and lightning, static, current, electricity, magnetism.
—Lukas’ thoughts came to a complete stop.
‘...electromagnetism?’
One of the most basic forces in the universe.
What if that was what Thunder was rooted in?
‘That force is the source of almost all the forces and phenomena that naturally occur.’
So if he could perfectly understand that concept, he might also be able to know the position and momentum of every atom. In theory, he would know ‘everything about the present’.
If he had the capacity and processing ability of a Ruler, it might even be possible to predict the future based on the acquired information.
‘In the imaginary world, the patterns of ‘Lukas’ are infinite.’
He knew this because he’d accepted every Lukas. All of them were the same, but at the same time different, being. Even if the root was Lukas, they all lived completely different lives, so inevitably, there were differences which eventually led to their own individuality.
The Lightning God must have known about that individuality even before the fight.
So the fight that followed was nothing more than a response to the information gained in advance.
The battle style that the Lightning God displayed, which Lukas mistakenly thought were infinite patterns, was nothing more than something ‘made as a result’.
If there was a hundred, there was a strategy for a hundred.
In the end, the patterns that one revealed during a fight usually occurred because there was no ‘perfect strategy’. After all, because of a lack of information about your opponent, you would have no choice but to fight in the method you were most confident in.
In other words, if you knew everything about your opponent before you even started, there would be no need to reveal your habits.
It was like reaching a stage of omniscience.
‘...haha.’
A laugh leaked out as goosebumps ran down his spine.
It wasn’t because of fear or terror.
It was because for the first time since obtaining Void, he had seen the path to the next level. At that moment, Lukas had a feeling of both achievement and excitement that numbed his brain.
Just a bit.
If he analysed just a little bit more, he thought that he could catch something. He knew he could.
—It was because of this that Lukas didn’t realise.
10 minutes.
The 10 minutes he’d talked about with the Lightning God.
Had already passed.