Chapter 11 - chapter 6: time for action(1)

In one of the bustling trading divide of Moltier City, I found myself engrossed in the activity of purchasing a wide variety of metals. This was necessary because, during the previous fight, I had used up a significant amount of metal, which had dissolved in the process. As a result, I was diligently gathering different types of metals to replenish my supplies and ensure I was well-prepared for any future encounters. The district was alive with the sounds of merchants haggling, the clinking of coins, and the vibrant displays of goods, making it an ideal place to fulfill my needs. 

I couldn't help but feel a profound sense of accomplishment and pride as I reached the prestigious peak rank 3 stage yesterday. This achievement marks a significant milestone in my journey, reflecting the hard work, dedication, and strategic skills I have honed over time. However, this success comes with a challenge, as I find myself with most of my rings depleted. These rings are crucial for maintaining my performance and advancing further, 

so I will need to recharge them with magic energy. This process is not only time-consuming but also requires careful planning and resource management to ensure that I can replenish my energy efficiently. Despite the temporary setback, I am determined to overcome this obstacle and continue my pursuit of excellence. 

However, I discovered new methods to ascend more easily and effectively, using alchemist potions and special ingredients.

I slipped through the shimmering banner of the alchemist's tent, my bones making a faint clatter, like the whisper of a bell that only I could hear. Inside, mist coiled and drifted, thick with the scent of ground roots and the metallic tang of magic. My sockets flickered dimly as I traced each detail in silence: the shelves groaning under rune-engraved metals humming soft notes, potion bottles swelling and swirling as if each contained its own tiny heart.

At the center of it all stood the alchemist monster, bright-eyed and restless, rocking in his chair as he fussed with a potion breeder. Tubes twisted like snakes, and a flask of liquid gold pulsed in his claws. He noticed me instantly. "Hey there, welcome to my tent. What would you like to buy, sir?"

I said nothing, only shifting my gaze to the unstable glow in his flask. My thoughts circled, precise and unspoken until I decided it was better to tell this lad his mistake. "Too much nature energy to balance them. This will end up slowing down progress."

He stopped moving and looked at me in surprise, then nodded as he slowly extracted nature energy using his magic energy forward eagerly. "Hmm… wait, this is working."

I moved toward the potion breeder. As I went, I got holia metal that got into a sand-like state. Then, the moment I reached the potion, I poured them at an extremely precise volume into the bottle, which started to glow.

The potion's heartbeat steadied, and a golden spiral formed cleanly and true. "Wait, what? How is this—ahh, I understand now! It needed stabilization to get fused, and with nature energy in less density, it will speed up the process. What a genius method!"

Gradually, I drifted past the rows of metal racks, my fingers lightly brushing against the surface of the humming alloy. This particular metal was infused with dragon nickel, a rare and potent combination that resonated with a unique energy. The vibrations emitted by the alloy were perfectly suited for runic resonance, a technique I was well-versed in.

Before my regression, I had spent 40 years as a renowned grand alchemist, known for my unconventional approach to discovering new methods and occasionally making significant discoveries of potions. However, I eventually abandoned these practices as they no longer served my purposes. Despite this, my memory of the techniques and my innate talent remained intact, allowing me to effortlessly recall the intricacies of alchemical processes.

My mind buzzed with thoughts and possibilities. Behind me, the alchemist, clearly excited by my presence, hurried to my side. "Do you like that one? I crafted it after discovering comet ore! It emits a hum when it's content. Isn't it impressive?"

I gave a faint nod in response. His joy was immediate and unfiltered. "Really? He smiled as he dragged me deeper into the tent, showing me his creation. However, there were flaws, so I explained them and how to fix them. He took everything in, as if he were a student learning in a way he is quite young, only 18 years old."

I smiled as I continued to teach him my hand around the alloy, silently but confidently. Yes, knowledge should be shared, and curiosity deserves a teacher. So, for a moment, I became his teacher. 

Shortly after, I completed the process of gathering all the necessary components. I then proceeded to carefully select the specific quantities for each ingredient and metal that I intended to use. Once I had made my selections, I presented the chosen ingredients and metals, ensuring that everything was in order and ready for the next step. 

"That will be 12.5 Tana, sir," the young monster said politely, extending his hand to receive the payment. His demeanor was respectful and earnest, which brought a smile to my face. "Thank you for teaching me those methods," he continued, his voice filled with gratitude. He then bowed deeply, a gesture that was both formal and sincere, causing me to chuckle softly. 

The action stirred memories of my past life, a time when I was known as Clownchaos, the most feared monster in the realm. Back then, respect was a common reaction to my presence, and it was often quite amusing to witness. With a warm and affectionate pat on his head, I looked at him encouragingly and said, "Well, don't stop trying. I want to see you succeed, so don't break my trust." My words carried a mix of encouragement and a gentle warning, underscoring my desire for his continued growth and success.

After diligently completing all my assigned tasks, I proceed to the headquarter mansion, which serves as my residence. Upon entering the mansion, I am consistently met with expressions of astonishment from the staff and personnel. They are amazed by the remarkable transformation I have experienced in such a short period. In just a single day, I have made a significant leap from an average stage to reaching a peak stage . I fully comprehend their surprise, considering the substantial improvement in my capabilities and the noticeable change in my overall rank. 

As I strolled leisurely through the lively and bustling corridors of the mansion, I was taken aback by an unexpected encounter with the guild manager, Marliris. As I approached him, I noticed that his gaze seemed to pass over me as if I were merely a shadow in the room, unnoticed and intangible. This reaction was not unexpected, given my situation of having wall between soul and body have given me talent for blending effortlessly into my environment. My numerous ascension with significant enhancements or boosts that alter my presence only heightened the probability of such an oversight. Under these circumstances, it was entirely understandable for him to appear startled or surprised by my sudden and seemingly unexpected appearance.

Marliris then spoke, his voice laced with a mix of disbelief and curiosity, "I… still don't understand how you can exist. I mean, even my rank 6 senses can't perceive you. But we will talk about it later. Right now, we need to discuss something."

I paused in my tracks and turned to face him, my curiosity thoroughly piqued. "What is it, manager? Is there something wrong?" I inquired, eager to understand the urgency in his tone.

He responded in a calm and composed voice, "No, nothing is wrong, but me. I want to test your strength. Only then can I present you to my higher-ups." Despite his outwardly composed demeanor, I couldn't shake the feeling that he harbored hidden motives beneath his calm exterior. He was clearly eager to assess my abilities, driven by a desire to comprehend why his extraordinary senses failed to detect my presence. 

He believed that by engaging in a duel with me, he might unravel the mystery surrounding my unique abilities. His intentions were transparent; he sought comprehensive information about every guild member. This knowledge would empower him to suggest suitable candidates whenever the higher-ups made their requests, effectively achieving two objectives with a single action. 

With a resigned sigh, I nodded in agreement, and together we made our way to the training ground, where we were set to engage in a duel. My mind wasn't heavily focused on the outcome of the duel, as it wasn't about securing a victory. Instead, it was about demonstrating my potential and determination. I know that in the future, I would achieve a breakthrough to rank 4, at which point all the current statistics and rankings would become irrelevant. In essence, this duel was structured as a win-win situation, benefiting both parties involved. 

"I really want to sleep you know reaching peak rank 3 stage really wore me down you know" I groaned little 

Marliris' voice rumbled like distant yet clear. "Don't worry, I'll be rank 3 as well. Using the restrictions, I won't be able to release more than the peak rank 3 stage strength, so don't worry."

"I see but try going soft on me please" I replied, and let my sockets flicker with anticipations.as I raise wooden sword and used sharpening technique on it 

Marliris initiated the duel with a swift, almost imperceptible movement, his form dissolving into a blur before completely disappearing. In the blink of an eye, the ground beneath me shattered with a thunderous crack, sending a shockwave rippling outward. My body reacted instinctively, twisting and straining as I narrowly escaped the devastating force of his sword—a blow that would have instantly concluded the match. I landed in a low crouch, my fingertips grazing the cold stone to channel a thread of ambient magic into my rings, feeling the faint hum of power return to my fingertips.

His swordsmanship was a mesmerizing and intricate dance, a symphony of movements that showcased mastery beyond ordinary understanding. Each step, each precise cut, was imbued with intent and purpose. I couldn't help but admire the depth and complexity of his abilities. However, when we were both of the same rank, his dazzling technique became less significant. In this arena of equals, the margin for victory was razor-thin. It was strategy and preparation, not mere skill, that would determine the victor.

But my purpose here was not to win. It was to prove myself.

I advanced toward Marliris, who met my gaze with an air of unimpressed indifference, his stance shifting into a defensive posture. I did not charge recklessly. Instead, I established a steady rhythm of sword swings, gradually increasing my speed. Each movement was deliberate: step, pivot, slash—my feet never still, my balance unwavering. Momentum built like a gathering storm, the air whistling under my blade, my arms thrumming with raw, untapped power.

At the peak of my speed, I unleashed a final, deadly swing. Marliris braced himself, determined to confront my strength head-on. Without hesitation, I pivoted the arc into a piercing thrust, effortlessly transforming momentum into focused force, maintaining my momentum throughout. The impact reverberated through the training ground, a sharp, metallic bang resonating against the stone walls.

He intercepted at the last possible moment, the collision driving him five steps back, his boots scraping across the ground as his body swayed to maintain balance. Surprise flickered across his face. I pressed forward, my blade an unyielding blur, each strike faster than the last, the air howling with every cut. Yet Marliris met every attack with flawless defense, his wooden sword intercepting mine in a storm of clashes. Each impact rang like thunder, reverberating up my arms and filling the hall with echoes. Dust trembled from the ceiling beams, and the cool air churned into swirling eddies carrying the scent of wood and metal.

Recognizing the stalemate, I abruptly changed tactics. With a burst of motion, I lunged and delivered a powerful kick to his chest, creating the distance I needed. Marliris's eyes narrowed, his frown deepening—he took the act as a rude. He responded with a headlong charge, his sword slicing up from the lower left with a menacing hiss. I leaned left, narrowly dodging, feeling the breath of air as the weapon passed by. In one fluid motion, I spun on my heel, using the momentum to drive a precise kick into his sword. The blow sent it spinning, arcing through the air before clattering far beyond his reach.

Even at Rank 4 speed, renowned for its agility, he hadn't anticipated it.

Without hesitation, Marliris bring out another wooden sword, don't ask how the hell did he pull wooden sword without any usage of magic this is kinda logic breaking but whenever, his eyes burning with renewed resolve, and we clashed again. I dominated most exchanges, my reflexes honed to a razor's edge, yet he still managed a sudden strike that nearly caught me—forcing me to sidestep just in time. The duel stretched beyond its intended thirty minutes into two relentless hours, a grueling test of endurance and willpower.

Then, silence.

Marliris vanished once more. The stone beneath me cracked with a resounding boom, the shockwave rattling my bones. I leapt, twisting midair, and drew in another thin stream of magic. His sword emerged like a streak of lightning, and I met it with a wooden blade. The collision rang like a bell, vibrations stinging through my arms.

I smiled.

With each swing, the air howled, my strikes flowing faster, sharper, harder. The final slash came down in a single, decisive arc—crack!—splintering Marliris's wooden sword clean in half.

I stood victorious, my chest rising and falling with the rhythm of excitement. The thrill felt both old and new, like the first leaf of spring.

"You may be Rank 3," Marliris said, his voice carrying genuine respect, "but your skill rivals those far beyond. I think I understand now why even my senses cannot fully grasp you."

I nodded, a faint smile tugging at my lips. "Then I've passed your test."

He inclined his head solemnly. "Indeed. Perhaps… I have things to learn from you."

The duel ended, but the memory of steel, speed, and willpower lingered in the quiet hall long after the echoes faded.

After the duel, Marliris bid me farewell and departed, while I made my way to my room. 

I have a single plan for today. Soon, I'll reach my room. It's exactly as I left it, just like the moment Espresmory's memories began to form their own will. I don't have much time, so let's get into my plan immediately. 

I begin by conducting a meticulous inspection of the room, scrutinizing every corner, crevice, and potential entry point. I ensure that all windows are tightly sealed, doors are securely locked, and any small gaps or cracks are addressed to prevent any possibility of entry or exit. Only after confirming the room's complete security do I move on to the next phase of my plan.

I then take out a thin piece of iron, which I have chosen for its resemblance to a strand of hair. With great care and precision, I straighten the iron, ensuring it is perfectly aligned. I position it strategically along the door frame and the adjacent wall, creating a delicate setup designed to detect any intrusion. This ingenious mechanism is sensitive enough that when someone enters the room, they will inadvertently bend the iron, leaving behind a clear and undeniable physical trace of their presence.

To further bolster the effectiveness of this security measure, I poured my magic abilities. I carefully sprinkle a fine layer of dust on the window plate, a surface that I have imbued with my magic energy. And my magic energy is will of magic, which granting figure the ability to function as a vigilant guardian. The dust, under the influence of my magic, forms an acts as a watchful sentinel. This magic sentinel is always on alert, ready to notify me of any unauthorized entry into the room.

The purpose of these elaborate and intricate precautions is to maintain the utmost secrecy of my activities. While I am away, there is a possibility that someone might enter my room and find it unoccupied. Such an occurrence would be detrimental to my plans, as it is crucial that my actions remain undiscovered. 

By securing the room and setting up these magic defenses, I can confidently assert that I did not leave the room while I was gone. In the event that someone does manage to enter, I can fabricate a plausible story, claiming that I had left for another location. These comprehensive measures provide me with the necessary protection and flexibility to carry out my plans without any interference or unwanted discovery. 

I carefully remove my teleportation device from my backpack. The device is sleek and black, resembling a panel with intricate designs etched into its surface. To achieve my goal of ascending to rank 4, I must travel to inheritance , a renowned location ideal for this purpose. inheritance is celebrated for its abundant concentration of pure magic energy, which is essential for effectively advancing to rank 4. Additionally, I recall that the last time I assessed my status, I had accumulated 3500 clouds, indicating that I have surpassed the peak stage significantly. 

With a deep and weary sigh, I activated the teleportation device, feeling the familiar sensation i felt when using teleportation. I see inheritance envelop me like a comforting embrace. The journey was brief yet disorienting, marked by a few nauseating moments as I traversed through the ethereal plane, a realm of swirling colors and shifting shapes that seemed to defy the very laws of physics. Upon arrival, I was greeted by a breathtaking sight: golds shimmered in every direction, casting a warm, radiant glow that seemed to pulse with life. Pure magic energy coursed through the air like a mighty river, its vibrant essence palpable and invigorating, filling my body with a sense of vitality and purpose.

I took a deep, contemplative look around, my senses attuned to the subtle fluctuations in the magic energy that danced around me like invisible flames. My goal was clear: to ascend to a higher rank and first I need find the perfect location, one with the ideal density of pure magic energy to fuel my breakthrough. This location would serve as the crucible for my metamorphosis, a place where I could harness the raw power of magic to achieve new heights of strength and capability. After a thorough search, exploring countless realms and dimensions, I finally settled on a spot that resonated with my intentions, its energy density perfectly balanced to support my aspirations and provide the stability I needed for my breakthrough.

With my chosen location secured, I settled into a meditation, dedicating the entire day to this profound moments. The meditation was intense, far surpassing the time I had spent reaching rank 3. I pushed myself to the limits, employing special methods and rare ingredients that I had meticulously gathered over time, each one a testament to my dedication and perseverance. These elements were crucial in facilitating a breakthrough that was not only more efficient but also significantly more powerful than usual, a breakthrough that would mark a turning point in my journey.

As a result of my efforts, my peak rank 3 stage was on par with the average true rank 4 stage, a testament to the effectiveness of my approach and the precision with which I had executed my plan. Now, armed with these methods, factors, and the unique advantages of having figure, I was poised to make an even more formidable breakthrough, one that would propel me to the rank 5 level. However, I was acutely aware of the potential downside: a stronger breakthrough would inevitably make the next one more challenging, a reality I was prepared to face with determination and resolve, knowing that each step forward was a step closer to my ultimate goal. 

After dedicating the entire day to the inheritance, I finally experienced a breakthrough. However, there was a significant issue that arose.

"Are you serious?" I exclaimed, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My height had increased noticeably, and my bones had grown larger, transforming me into a completely different being. I understood that breakthroughs often lead to physical changes for a monster, but the extent of my transformation was far beyond my expectations. Despite the fact that the external forces I employed shouldn't have caused such drastic alterations, I found myself unable to look away from my new view, which is so horrifying that even I find myself scared for seconds, but that fear quickly fades away.

After a moment of contemplation, I concluded that it would be more practical to use clothing to conceal my altered appearance. My current look was intimidating, but this transformation was a testament to the success of my breakthrough. It demonstrated the remarkable progress I had made.

Then I looked at myself in the mirror, and I was pleasantly surprised. I didn't have many clothes, so I used some of the clothes from this inheritance. Although I thought I would look ridiculous, I was pleasantly surprised to see that I actually look cool. 

My clothing design is defined by its sharp, aggressive angles, creating a striking and memorable aesthetic. The tall, pointed Medici collar stands out as a bold feature, while the stiletto-toed boots add an element of danger and elegance. Every edge of the ensemble exudes a sense of lethal and refined sophistication, making it both intimidating and captivating.

The high-waisted vest and wide-flaring coat contribute to a dramatic silhouette that is reminiscent of high-fashion formal wear. However, this silhouette is infused with an unnatural, spindly grace, setting it apart from traditional designs. The combination of these elements creates a unique and unsettling visual impact.

Thin, ink-dripping strands extend from the shoulders and hem, enhancing the sense of predatory, arachnid-like presence. These strands add a dynamic and eerie quality to the my clothes.

The mask is an essential piece, as my breakthrough drastically altered my appearance, necessitating its use. It features stylized, hollow eye sockets and a wide, static grin reminiscent of the theatrical tragedy or comedy masks of ancient drama. The absence of a nose, ears, or skin texture gives the mask the appearance of a puppet or vessel, rather than a living being, enhancing its enigmatic and otherworldly appearance.

One of my favorite elements is the Royal Gothic Palette, which includes Obsidian Black and Crimson Red. This classic villain or anti-hero color scheme signifies power, blood, and mystery, perfectly complementing the overall theme of the design. The use of these colors enhances the sense of drama and intensity.

Another remarkable aspect of the coat is its geometric patterning. It features a striking red diamond-lattice pattern that infuses the design with a chaotic and trickster-like element, which I particularly relish. The hem and sleeves of the coat appear to be melting or disintegrating into black liquid, creating an inky effect reminiscent of shadow mage monsters. This effect, which I was drawn to before regression, symbolizes shadows, the void, or corruption. It adds depth and complexity to the design, further emphasizing its connection to the dark and mysterious.

Overall, this design exudes the vibe of a Gentle Monster, communicating sophistication, theatricality, and eldritch corruption. It is the perfect design for a Master of Ceremonies in a deadly way, just the way I like it. 

I put on a large red hoodie. The hood has a sharp, pointed shape like a bird's beak, which is stiff to keep its form. This makes a shadow over my head, leaving only my face visible. The top of the hood curves back in a sleek shape, ending in a long tail that seems to float.

Inside, the hood is lined with bright red fabric. This red border outlines the "mouth" of the hood, contrasting with the dark outside and the white mask inside. The mask is set deep in the red lining, making my head look hollow.

The hood is part of a stiff, high collar that flares out at the sides. Both the bottom of the hood and the collar have jagged, triangular edges, called dagging, which match the "sharp point" theme of the outfit.

The outer material is dark charcoal with fine, light-gray vertical pinstripes that run parallel to the hood's curve, highlighting its elongated form. The red border of the hood has a subtle, dark geometric pattern or embroidery, adding intricate detail to the structural edges.

I can't help but feel like I've become my first decade as Clownchaos just by wearing this suit! If I were to strut around in my natural state, even a rank 9 beast might flee in terror, clutching its eyes and exclaiming, "What in world did I just witness?!" Haha, perhaps I should add this to my list of skills and techniques. Who needs clothes when you have confidence and a menacing appearance that could even horrify a great lord? 

Having said that, I used teleportation to return to the mansion, and I was greeted with the same welcoming sensation. I miss my own innate trait of teleportation.

I rise from the ground, feeling the familiar sensation of grounding myself with the earth. I take a moment to carefully survey my surroundings, ensuring everything is as it was before I left. The room is silent, and the air is still, giving me a sense of calm. I walk purposefully to the door, my footsteps light and deliberate. I reach out to check the thin iron, a simple yet effective history of whenever someone enters or not.

And iron wasn't bended with a sense of satisfaction, I turn my attention to the dust, where I left my magic energy to leave the figure. But as I approach, I notice something amiss. "Someone has been here while I was gone," I mutter to myself, my voice barely above a whisper. The dust on the window plate is disturbingly clear, devoid of any traces of my magic energy. This absence is significant, as it indicates that whoever entered my room was no ordinary monster. They must have been an extraordinary monster, possibly Marliris or someone of similar power.

Despite the unsettling discovery, I find myself smiling beneath my mask. The thin iron serves a dual purpose, and I am pleased with its effectiveness. If the intruder had been a regular monster, they would have likely overlooked it. However, if they were an extraordinary monster, their heightened senses would have detected it. The purpose of the trap is that if a figure discovered who had entered my room was an extraordinary monster, they were supposed to destroy themselves, and indeed, they did, regardless of the circumstances. This mechanism ensures that as long as someone enters my room, I would be alerted and able to determine whether they were an extraordinary monster or not. 

This meticulous approach was my strategic safeguard to prevent any errors. Ever since I experienced regression, I have borne the consequences of my previous impulsiveness. However, moving forward, I am resolute in ensuring that things will transform for the better. 

After double-checking room one, I stepped out. As I walked, I encountered other monsters who stared at me in disbelief. Soon, one of them, whom I'm quite close to, approached me. 

"Who are you, sir? I have never seen you before," he stammered, his voice trembling with barely concealed fear. His eyes widened as they scanned my masked face and towering figure, the sharp angles of my attire casting predatory shadows across the corridor walls. Every instinct in him screamed to flee, but curiosity and terror held him rooted in place.

I paused, letting the silence stretch, my presence filling the space like a suffocating fog. The soft rustle of the hood's daggered edges and the faint drip of inky strands from my coat seemed louder than my own breath. My mask's hollow sockets and static grin reflected in his frightened eyes, turning me into a distorted nightmare staring back at him.

"Who I am," I said slowly, my voice low and resonant beneath the mask, "just your friendly pal that breakthrough to rank 4 do you remember me now." I let the words hang like a blade over his head, watching as he shivered. 

He swallowed hard, breaking eye contact as his fear overwhelmed him, and he took an uncertain step back. I tilted my head slightly, allowing the shadow of my hood to swallow my face entirely. Though my new form was horrifying even to myself, in this moment I realized the strategic brilliance of my disguise—it was no longer just a shield for my altered body, but a weapon of intimidation.

Satisfied, I chuckled softly and removed my black gloves, revealing my skeleton hand. He stared at my hand for a few moments before turning to me and asking, "Are you Sans?"

I nodded slowly, the motion deliberate and measured, and he exhaled in visible relief, shoulders sagging as the tension bled out of him. His trembling hands eased to his sides, though his wide eyes still darted between my mask and the skeletal fingers I had revealed. Without another word, he gave a hesitant bow before turning to retreat down the corridor, his hurried steps echoing against the cold stone walls. 

I lingered a moment longer, watching his form disappear into the mansion's depths, satisfied that my new presence was both intimidating and effective. With my hood casting long shadows over the mask's static grin, I turned away, letting the silence of the hall swallow me as I returned to my solitary path. 

The front yard stretched before me like a serene, deliberate stage, setting the mood long before the mansion revealed itself. A grand path of dark slate slabs cut straight from the ornate gate, flanked by hedges sculpted into elegant, graceful forms. Between these lush green sentinels, lanterns glowed softly, their warm light reflecting off the wet stone from the recent drizzle. The damp earth carried a scent of fresh moss and cool stone, and every shadow seemed to guide the path, welcoming.

Beyond the hedges, patches of velvety dark grass spread in precise parcels, interrupted by majestic trees with arching branches that reached toward the walkway. At the center of the yard, a black marble fountain rippled with gentle reflections, the hollow, robed figure atop it raising outstretched hands in serene welcome. The water's soft trickle and the gentle hum of the lanterns gave the space a peaceful, anticipatory silence.

Only after crossing half the yard did the mansion fully reveal itself. Its black stone walls rose with polished sheen, spires and sharp gables cutting against the dimming sky. Crimson banners fluttered gently in the breeze, and each arch and corner seemed etched with a precise, artistic intent. The structure radiated the quiet elegance of a sacred space, a place that embraced anyone who dared to walk the path.

As I advanced, boots tapping against slate, I felt the symmetry of the yard and the welcoming shadow of the mansion converge. Every hedge, lantern, and ripple of water seemed part of a silent harmony, and I knew at once that this was not merely a home, but a celebration of who I had become.

as I sit upon this chair in the front yard, I find myself contemplating the precious moments of my free time. Soon, the 12th squad shall grace us with their presence, and thus, I must ensure that all my rings are fully recharged and that everything is in readiness. Time the my dear companion, is a fleeting treasure, and I shall not let it slip through my fingers in vain. 

As I attempted to recall anything useful which now wasn't as hazy, I already possess memories of 10 years into future, which extend beyond the time when I became a slave in the 9th region. Consequently, my knowledge of the 10th region is complete, but this also implies that I have low time before those memories surpass my memory capacity. 

Despite having meticulously mapped out my future, where I vividly imagine a consistent and swift climb to success, I find myself confronted with unexpected challenges that continue to arise. These obstacles create a sense of desperation within me, as they threaten to derail my carefully laid plans. However, I am unwavering in my resolve and determination to surmount these difficulties. I am committed to pushing through these setbacks and ultimately realizing my aspirations, no matter how daunting the journey may be. 

Suddenly, a memory struck me with idea and urgency. "Wait, now that I think about it, there's a hidden inheritance in the Central City divide that has remained undiscovered until now. This inheritance is of great significance because it was left behind by the first monster who founded Moltier City. The collection consists of a full array of arcane artifacts, each possessing unique and powerful properties. It was only during our squad's expedition to the Forger of the Forest that noble monsters stumbled upon this remarkable inheritance. The knowledge of its existence is still a secret, and it holds immense potential for my future endeavors."

In this moment, a torrent of plans and ideas floods my mind with relentless intensity. It's as if a storm erupts within my thoughts, where vibrant ideas and vivid memories intertwine and flicker like a wild, untamed fire. Each thought is a spark, igniting a cascade of possibilities and recollections, creating a dynamic and ever evolving landscape of imagination and nostalgia.

Having finally identified the optimal path to securing my inheritance, I am meticulously devising a comprehensive strategy to ensure its successful execution.

To strengthen my plan, I'm considering several strategic approaches. First, I conduct a comprehensive reconnaissance of the clandestine tunnel. This involves thoroughly understanding its intricate layout, identifying any potential hazards, and examining the security measures in place. A detailed analysis allows me to navigate the central city divide, but the tunnel unknown to most. This is my way to the central city divide, it is both safety and efficiency.

Given the formidable concentration of magic energy in the central city divide, I determine that a methodical approach is paramount. I intend to meditate to blend within environments and ascend in stages, employing this method to endure the challenging environments while simultaneously utilizing them to my advantage. This dual-purpose strategy not only addresses multiple challenges simultaneously but also enables me to seamlessly integrate into the environment, thus avoiding detection.

I meticulously outline a clear and structured plan for my ascension. If I stay at this stage for 20 hours, I will be able to reach true stage most of the time. This detailed plan ensures that I maintain steady progress and stay prepared to seize every opportunity that comes my way, even in the face of unforeseen challenges in the future. As I mentioned earlier, my fear of danger stems from a lack of strength to solve problems. Therefore, I need to strengthen myself as much as possible in the next three years. If possible, I want to reach rank 9 by the end of my second year.

And leveraging my extensive knowledge and analytical mind, I deduce the potential locations of the inheritance. This analysis narrows down the possibilities to a singular area that is underground of the tournament arena. By analyzing historical records and conducting a thorough design analysis, I identify the most probable spots. It is evident why this inheritance has remained undiscovered for so long.

In anticipation of unexpected scenarios, I prepare contingency plans. This involves identifying potential obstacles and devising alternative strategies. Such preparedness ensures that I remain flexible and responsive to any changes in the situation, thereby enhancing my capability to adapt and succeed.

Furthermore, there is the figure who has already infiltrated the server, making it feasible for him to establish a communication network that provides accurate information. This network enables me to receive timely updates, gather critical information, and coordinate efforts as necessary, thereby significantly enhancing the efficacy of my plan.

In that same day I decided to pause, to reflect deeply, and to prepare meticulously for the journey ahead. This moment of introspection isn't just about stopping; it's about engaging with the essence of what I'm going to do and who I will become, contemplating the myriad paths before me, each with its own challenges and opportunities.

I'm acutely aware of the potential hurdles, having an intimate understanding of my nature, strengths, and vulnerabilities. My experiences in previous timelines have taught me a profound lesson even the most carefully crafted plans, woven with the finest threads of intention and foresight, aren't immune to fate's whims. The probability of failure is a constant shadow, reminding me of life's inherent uncertainty. Yet, within this shadow lies a glimmer of hope, a testament to my agency and the power I hold to diminish its presence through deliberate action and thoughtful preparation.

I must embrace the truth that as long as there's a chance for failure, there will be failure and consequences, but also a chance for success. These opposing forces are two sides of the same coin, intricately connected in life's grand dance. Failure, with its sting and lessons, isn't just an end but a catalyst for growth, a stepping stone to wisdom. Success, with its triumphs and accolades, isn't just a destination but a continuation of the journey, an opportunity to refine and expand my understanding of the world and my place within it.

In this eternity, I chase solace and my purpose. It's through the interplay of failure and success that I evolve, transcend past limitations, and embrace the boundless potential of my future. Thus, I stand poised on the precipice of what's to come, ready to navigate life's complexities with courage, resilience, and an unwavering commitment to growth and wisdom. 

…

Following two day I created perfect excuse of going to magic divide to in reality I was going to steampunk divide however I need to get in center of this city divide 

Traveling into the heart of Moltier's Steampunk Divide is, well, just another day for me. The lines between will and coded minds blur here, creating a lively mix of innovation and creativity. The journey kicks off at the lower industrial levels, a bustling hub with streets made of blackened steel and titanium inlays. These inlays have faint runes that pulse softly, like a heartbeat, adding a touch of mysticism to the industrial scene. Towering cargo structures with massive frames and detailed brass joints move along the metal roads, releasing steam hisses that punctuate the air. Meanwhile, spiderlike service crawlers, equipped with various tools, scuttle along the street edges. These tireless machines polish pipes and lubricate gears with precision, keeping the city's mechanical core running smoothly.

As i move upward toward the city's center, things change a bit. Boarding one of the elevated cog-rail carriages, I'm surrounded by glass walls and iron frames that vibrate gently with the hum of magnetic rails. This mode of transport offers a view of the metropolis, revealing layer upon layer of architectural wonders. Below, broad boulevards are filled with clockwork creatures, their movements synchronized in a dance of metal and steam. Mid-tier bridges arch gracefully between monumental towers, each structure a testament to the city's engineering expertise. Above, aerial platforms glide with an elegant inevitability, their paths tracing the sky like celestial highways. Every structure is adorned with bioluminescent planters and lanterns, swaying in harmony with the city's rhythmic pulses, casting a soft, ethereal glow over the urban landscape.

As the carriage nears the central district, the Grand Mechanism becomes a prominent feature of the skyline. This colossal building is a palace of living metal, a cathedral to the art of engineering where enormous gears mesh in silent grace, and interlocking rings rotate with celestial precision. At its top, the Orrery Dome spins with elegant poise, aligning with the stars and sending harmonic pulses that ripple through the city. These pulses stabilize every bridge, platform, and rail, ensuring the city's structural integrity and harmony.

Stepping onto the central terrace, the atmosphere is filled with energy and anticipation. Bridges extend like skeletal arms toward the Core, their retractable platforms shifting seamlessly underfoot, adapting to the needs of the city's inhabitants. Kinetic fountains of molten metal and luminous water defy gravity, spiraling into intricate geometric shapes sustained by magnetic fields before cascading into turbines below. The air is thick with the scent of oil, steam, and polished brass, a unique perfume that encapsulates the essence of mechanical life.

Sentinel machines patrol the plaza, their multi-limbed forms gleaming under the filtered sunlight, ever vigilant in their duty to maintain order. Phantom constructs of vapor drift overhead, carrying the whispers of the city's will, a reminder of the unseen forces that guide its operations. Every sound—gear, piston, hiss, and chime—blends into a mechanical symphony, a harmonious reminder that this metropolis is not just built; it is alive, breathing with the rhythm of its mechanical heart.

Even the streets were bustling with monsters, which was quite problematic because they seemed to perceive me as strange in a way that I was. 

I finally reached the Great Wall today, and words feel so small against its immensity. Standing before it, I felt as though I had stumbled into the ribs of some titanic, slumbering machine that both watched and judged me. Its surface gleamed with a dark, liquid sheen, blackened steel and silver alloys rippling with faint reflections of the sky. As I approached, I could hear it breathing—not with air, but with the deep hum of synchronized mechanisms.

I pressed my hand to the wall. The cold was immediate, aching, and yet there was a pulse beneath the metal, a slow rhythm like a heart responding to distant ley lines. Streams of light ran across the panels in veins of blue, gold, and crimson, etching runes that mutated fluidly into spiraling glyphs. Each pulse seemed to whisper calculations, scanning my presence, determining whether I belonged.

Above me, I watched the wall shift in subtle, hypnotic motions, its plates sliding and rotating on hidden tracks. They aligned themselves with invisible currents in the air, like the sails of a ship catching an unseen wind. Every movement resonated with a soft, metallic chime. I

The gate was an enigmatic structure, suspended in the air as a collection of fragmented pieces. Each segment was a chain of metal, intricately linked and orbiting silently around one another, creating a mesmerizing dance of motion. As the gate neared the entrance, the individual metal walls seemed to come alive, shifting and rearranging themselves with a fluid grace. This movement formed a temporary passageway, a gateway that appeared to pulse with a life of its own. Yet, despite this dynamic transformation, the gate never achieved a state of permanence or stability when I was near. It was as if the gate possessed an innate awareness, recognizing my lack of lineage from the noble monster family. This recognition was evident in its behavior, as the wall would remain in a state of flux, refusing to solidify and grant me passage.

Sentinel constructs patrolled the ridges, their sleek bodies glinting under the pale glow of the runes. They moved without sound, but I could feel the weight of their attention, as if the Wall itself was peering through their eyes. The air here smells faintly of scorched iron and ozone, and each exhale of steam from the Wall's vents leaves a taste of copper on my tongue.

I did not knock. I did not dare.

I lingered instead, documenting every sight, sound, and vibration, committing the pulse of this living fortification to memory. It is not a wall for keeping things out—it is a wall that decides who may step forward into the realm it protects. And today, it chose silence.

However, I have developed methods ever since Figure infiltrated all the servers within the city. This infiltration granted him the capability to exert control over every aspect of the city's infrastructure. As I had anticipated, Figure's influence extends to the Great Wall, allowing him to manage and manipulate its operations as well. 

Boon boon boon boon boon

I walked into the open passage, feeling the Great Wall's hum through my boots, as if it recognized my courage. The metal chains of the gateway moved in a captivating dance, locking just long enough for me to pass. Cool, metallic air surrounded me, smelling of oil and ozone, as if the wall exhaled before closing off the world behind me.

As soon as I crossed the threshold, I felt a slight change in gravity, gently pulling me deeper into the corridor. The metal beneath me vibrated like a giant instrument, each step sending a small tremor down the passage. Behind me, the wall's outer plates slid back into place with a loud clang that shook me. Quickly, the blue, gold, and crimson lines on the wall aligned again, and the entrance disappeared, as if it had never been there.

I stopped and looked back. The Great Wall stood silent and massive, its surface calm and mysterious. There was no sign of the passage I had used. I knew, with a chilling certainty, that no one else had followed me—not without permission.

A quiet settled over the corridor. Only the soft sound of hidden mechanisms and the steady pulse of ley-line energy guided me forward into the unknown depths beyond the wall.

As I approach the other side, an unexpected surge of magic energy envelops me, suppressing me to average rank 3 stage. This occurrence was anticipated, as noble monsters are typically governed by such formidable entities. The cause of my suppression lies in the noble monsters as they all possession different a special nature within souls, which nearly attains the level of a grade 2 soul. This extraordinary characteristic makes newborn noble monsters a considerable danger to ordinary monsters. In response to this potential threat, scientists ingeniously altered the properties of magic energy to counteract any form of magic energy, including my own. 

I step forward cautiously, my boots crunching against the frost-laden ground, each step sending a small cloud of icy breath into the crisp air. The world ahead opens into a breathtaking cathedral of green ice trees, their translucent emerald crystal forms lining the path like sentinels. These trees, with their branches bending elegantly, seem to bow in welcome, creating a serene and majestic entrance. Each trunk pulses faintly with a verdant glow, as if infused with a gentle heartbeat, and threads of nature energy in them move like living veins, pulsating with vitality.

The air is sharp and cold, carrying the invigorating scent of raw vitality, and every breath I take feels like inhaling liquid life itself, filling my sensations with a sense of renewal and energy. The quantity of nature energy here is immense, almost overwhelming, a powerful force that seems to permeate every aspect of the environment. I can feel its activeness, the wind seeping into my bones, whispering in a language older than time, a language that speaks to the very essence of existence.

Yet within this embrace of nature energy lies a quiet tension, a delicate balance that must be maintained. Although having ice trees around monsters is dangerous, there is a reason behind it. By pouring magic energy into the surrounding nature energy, the two forces rival each other, yet remain bound in a delicate dance. One surges where the other yields, creating a dynamic interplay of power. One shields where the other strikes, forming a protective barrier that safeguards the grove. By modifying and changing some of these conditions, we can alter the nature of magic energy, using nature energy to make suppress monsters safely. This is why ice trees cannot harm monsters; they are too busy maintaining this equilibrium.

I allow my fingers to brush the surface of a nearby ice tree, and the sensation is both numbing and invigorating. The ice feels alive, humming with an ancient rhythm that resonates deep within me. My own magic energy recoils instinctively, wary of the vast nature energy that presses against me, 

This made me smile little as I decided to use methods I just developed for this 

The this entire suppression thing is a sophisticated form of magic energy, meticulously crafted to exert dominance over all external magic energy. Its primary function is to apply pressure, nullify, and control any magic that does not originate from its own source. However, this formidable barrier has a critical vulnerability: it relies on detection. If I remain undetected, the suppression cannot take effect. Recognizing this loophole, I have developed a strategic approach to exploit it. By carefully controlling my core, I can inhale and exhale the those surrounding magic energy, allowing it to be absorbed into my core and integrated into my very being. This temporary transformation renders the external magic energy a part of me, effectively bypassing the suppression.

This method, while ingenious, carries inherent risks. The magic that forms the essence of our monstrous bodies is inherently resistant to such absorption. This resistance stems from the fact that our bodies are physical manifestations of our will, and any external magic would clash with this intrinsic force. Consequently, monsters are unable to absorb existing magic to fill gap in stages during their ascension stages. Their inherent will creates a conflict with any foreign magic, preventing such integration.

Despite these challenges, I am driven by a compelling reason to pursue this course of action. I have the figure the cheat code of mine who can modify the magic that constitutes my body. This ally can alter its properties, making it compatible with the external magic energies I seek to absorb. With this advantage, I am able to navigate the complexities of this suppression and make them my own source of magic energy but in long term this is suicide, ultimately achieving my objectives.

And this method is already underway. I sense my body transforming while retaining its original shape. I perceive them entering me and circulating within me. I proceeded toward a colossal castle, the dwelling place of noble monsters. 

As I strolled, I started preparing a casting spell of shadow magic. I had no intention of getting caught or resorting to talking my way out. My goal was to go unnoticed. However, as I continued walking, I heard footsteps that weren't mine. I glanced around, trying to find the source of the sound, but I kept walking. 

"Millia, you better hide well!" A monster voice reaches me, causing me to halt in my tracks. I scan my surroundings, attempting to identify the source of the sound.

"Who are you?" the child monster voice echoes from behind me.

I turn to face the child monster, but his face is filled with discomfort. Without uttering a word, I walk away. There's no need for conversation or persuading.

"Hey, I'm talking to you, uh, *inhale* I command you to say your name."

I felt a slight tingle in my body, but that was all. It seems he's trying to use noble authority, but it would have worked if I had my soul. Well, since it's not the case, it has no effect on me.

"Wait, you are noble monster too," the child's voice was filled with shock, but I paid no attention.

"Hey, at least talk to me, weirdo. Why are you wearing those strange clothes? I don't remember any noble house having this traditional dress."

I walk without saying anything. If I say anything it might create a loophole or something to give me away, and I don't want to take a chance, I won't say anything.

"Hey," the child exclaimed, his small feet pattering as he circled around me, his eyes a mix of curiosity and irritation. Yet, I remained unfazed. I had made a decision to halt his approach. With a focused mind, I harnessed the magic energy that permeated the air, bending it to my will to manipulate the environment. The child's confusion was palpable as he glanced around, bewildered by the sudden change.

With a deliberate motion of my hand, I summoned the air to obey my command, and the child was propelled away, seemingly by an invisible force, without a single touch. "What the hey," he scream, his voice trailing off as he gradually vanished into the distant horizon. Undeterred by this minor interruption, I pressed on with my journey, eventually arriving at the castle. It was a magnificent structure, towering and expansive, yet in that moment, its grandeur seemed trivial. I had finally put into practice the shadow magic. The magic category that monsterkind wields, a potent force that channels magic energy to fill the gaps between stages.

The intricacies of magic energy usage are deceptively simple until one reaches rank 6. At that level, monsters hone their reflexes and develop a unique theme from their very bodies, granting them the ability to cast magic. Essentially, they begin to encode magic energy into forms capable of producing a myriad of effects, each categorized into thousands of distinct types.

Shadow magic, in particular, involves channeling vast amounts of magic energy into shadows and manipulating them with precision. However, my approach was distinct. At rank 10, the pinnacle of power that an extreme harbinger monster can achieve, I was no exception. Yet, I possessed a crucial advantage: the figure, a being capable of executing these complex tasks on my behalf.

In a previous timeline, I had acquired shadow magic only after reaching rank 14, and it proved to be the most invaluable magic I could have ever sought. One of the spells I was currently employing was particularly perilous. As soon as I infused shadow with magic energy which applied the precise magic formula, my shadow, now brimming with magic energy, began to envelop me from the outside, penetrating deeper, filling the spaces between the magic that constituted my body. In doing so, I became one with the shadow, dissolving into the ground as a mere shadow. As my shadow expanded, I became more of myself as a shadow. However, the further it stretched, the more transparent it became, threatening to cause me to fade away entirely. If I were not vigilant, I risked regressing from my current stage back to my original stage. But I trusted that the figure would not allow such a mistake to occur.

Thus, I began my journey through the castle, moving with the fluidity of the wind, and soon found myself in the underground chambers. I traversed countless rooms, encountering numerous monsters, yet they remained blissfully unaware of my presence.

I then proceeded to reconstruct my body, despite the relative simplicity of its mechanics. When I employed shadow magic, I disassembled the atoms of my clothing and stored them within the shadow, reassembling them in their original configuration. For my body, I followed a similar process, but instead of atoms, I utilized the magic that formed my body. This is why it was so perilous if I mishandled the design of my body and reassembled it incorrectly; it would result in a significant setback. However, the figure served as an essential backup, possessing the blueprint of my body and the precise positions of the magic within it. Thus, it was as if I had undergone no change at all.

Soon I saw the hallway that stretched endlessly, a forgotten vein in the heart of the castle. Dust clung to every surface like the whispers of time itself. The air was damp and heavy, filled with the scent of stone and rusted iron. Even the torches here burned weakly, their orange light trembling as if it was in brink of fading. 

Yet I walked alone, each footstep echoing in the emptiness. No one used this path anymore. No guards, no servants—only the cold silence of abandonment. My sockets flickered once, scanning the floor, and finally, I saw it: a faint disturbance in the dust, the slightest hollow in the stone. A hidden sign.

"Found you." My voice was barely a murmur, instantly swallowed by the hallway. 

I knelt, pressing my skeletal fingers against the stone. A ripple of shadow responded beneath my touch, like a heartbeat beneath the floor. This was the spot. The corner of my mouth curved beneath the mask, and without hesitation, I called upon my shadow magic.

Darkness surged from my feet, spreading in tendrils that licked the floor like living ink. My body melted into the black, dissolving into a fluid silhouette. The torchlight dimmed as though the hallway itself feared my presence, and in the next breath, I was gone. My shadow slid between the cracks of stone, silent and unseen.

The world shifted. I emerged into a narrow tunnel beneath the hallway, cloaked in darkness and moisture. The air was thick with the smell of old iron, and the slow drip of water echoed endlessly. I reformed my body from the shadow, bone and cloth knitting together with perfect precision, leaving no trace of my passage.

This was quite smooth I thought there will be problems but no and that is perfect except that kid well it is not like he be trouble. Although I do not possess a comprehensive understanding of the place, I am familiar with the fundamental information and rumors. Initially, I spent some time contemplating them, but eventually, I managed to come to conclusion. 

So here is my conclusion 

When Moltier City was being built, a group of architectural monsters managed the design and construction of its base, walls, and complex pathways. Among them one architecture monster, renowned for their expertise in underground design. This monster had carefully crafted a sophisticated system of concealed tunnels and rooms intended to provide structural support and discreet escape routes beneath the city.

However I believe in early construction process, a something happened my best guess is beast attacked and killed this architect creature, leaving behind no physical evidence, documentation, or plans of their work. Which means their demise was sudden and complete, wiping out any concrete record of their involvement in the tunnel systems. The remaining architectural team, unfamiliar with the complexities of their designs, was unaware of the hidden passageways' existence or layout.

Consequently, the tunnels stayed undiscovered and forgotten. With no one to share their locations or purpose, the monsters who continued the city's development built above them unknowingly. Eventually, one of Moltier's most impressive structures the towering noble castle was constructed directly over these unseen tunnels.

Knowing that this tunnel connected to the city's central divide, I believe it was intended for transportation or a similar purpose. However, I might be mistaken because this conclusion was based on a rumor. The rumors that based on children finding them, but rest was based on the city's design, which gives the story of an architectural monster. Although I believe I'm right, I can't blindly believe it.

With a sigh, I walk forward. I don't like unsolved mysteries and the possibility of being wrong, but what can I do about it? 

For an hour, I walked until I reached an immense corridor that sloped downward. The walls were adorned with passageways, and I came out from one of them. Without hesitation, I used shadow magic again, rising to the ceiling and navigating through openings until I arrived in a room filled with books. 

This took me by surprise. After all, why create secret tunnels for this library? Before I could wonder more, I noticed a door behind me opening. I used shadow magic once again, fading away and manifesting in the celling. 

"My lord, it seems that the young heirs of noble houses are preparing for tournaments, but unfortunately, it has become troublesome due to the storm."

I looked down and saw two monsters. One was clearly a butler, while the other was the head of a noble house, clearly rank 7. However, I don't know who he is. 

"I understand, but the tournament must continue regardless of the storm. For countless youth, this has been a lifelong goal. It would be cruel to cancel it. Besides, the first-place reward is a choice of any arcane artifact from our storage."

(…arcane artifact, hmm, that sounds like something I want to hear. Arcane artifact, although I have no intention of using them now, but I can use it another way.)

So with curiosity I sits it on stone of celling using my all hearing to hear their conversation 

"I see but why are we here" butler monster ask 

"You know about legends of the extreme harbinger monster, right? Although it is unreliable since we don't know whether it is true or not, I believe it because this library is a collection of all information about them. I believe one of the extreme harbinger monsters created an inheritance at the beginning of Moltier City and how scats are getting out of hand. I believe I need to find this inheritance to prepare." 

(… Scats has getting out of hand now. That's something new. I wasn't in the 10th region for long. After two years, I was enslaved to humanity. But I heard that the apocalypse of scats killed humans so much that they created peace treaties with monsters and started supporting them against scats and by the end of it all. Most of monsterkind in this world was weakened beyond recovery, and humans suffered greatly. At that time, I reached a higher monster level and sealed the gate to the 10th region. Which scats helped me get strong by taking all humanity's attention and severely weakening them giving me opportunities to grow.)

"I see my lord so shall I take my leave" butler monster ask which head of noble house nodded and start to read book 

Right now, I'm filled with countless questions, but I'll address them later since I have time. This time, I used shadow magic, which is subtle. Why? Because extraordinary monsters have senses that are on another level. I need to be careful not to draw their attention, and that's quite easy when I have a wall between my soul and body, which allows me to remain undetected by their senses. I suppose it can be useful, but if I had my soul, I would have reached rank 6, so I guess it's not that great. 

After exiting the library, I head upwards to get out of the underground. Soon, I found myself on the street, which was empty, and I sighed with relief. I decided to take a step forward, but suddenly, unfamiliar magic energy started to pressure me. Of course, I knew that this was grade 2 magic energy. With a small laugh, I started to meditate using a figure that helped me to gain freedom to do anything while meditating. 

Grade 2 pure magic energy is the perfect magic energy for extraordinary monsters ascending, while dangerous for normal monsters. And even meditation is suicide, but the figure can refine them to safe while keeping them useful. As soon as meditation starts, I feel them filling my stages more perfectly, fitting between the magics. 

It wasn't long before my average stage of rank 4 filled within two minutes, and I reached the true stage, seeing this a laugh escape from me. Then, I got up and started walking. The street was like a steampunk divide, but it was more like a place based on magic, which is understandable. 

This city divide is vast as big city it has theme of technology that is not based on steampunk and mechanics like previous city divide and it has its technology fused with magic properties 

The central city divide, the center heart and head of all other divides, rises like a monument to authority and mastery. Unlike the bustling markets and vibrant commerce of the trading divide, this place is solemn, orderly, and absolute in its purpose. No merchants ply their trade here, no stalls or street vendors line the immaculate boulevards. Instead, towering structures of glass, crystal, and radiant metal dominate the landscape, each one a testament to the city's devotion to governance, knowledge, and control.

Rows upon rows of colossal academies and organizational halls form the city's backbone. These buildings are not merely schools; they are fortresses of learning and command, where the brightest minds and most disciplined talents are forged into the architects of Moltier City's future. Their facades are etched with runes of authority, glowing softly in rhythm with the ley-lines beneath the streets. Inside, vast atriums with floating lecture platforms host lessons on magic theory, tactical command, and law over the moltier's many city divides.

At the center rises the Grand Council Spire, a structure of glittering crystal interwoven with veins of pure magic energy. Its peak breaches the clouds, crowned with orbiting rings that pulse with power, serving as both a beacon and a nexus of city-wide communication. From this spire, the threads of control flow outward, connecting every district, every system, and every sentinel construct in the metropolis.

Surrounding the central spire are the halls of the great organizations: the Guild of Arcane Oversight, the Division of City Defense, the Bureau of Spatial Transportation, and the Academy of Monster Studies. Each building possesses its own unique design, yet all share a sense of authority and order—grand staircases, hovering walkways, and gates that respond only to the presence of registered magic signatures.

The streets are wide, almost ceremonial, built more for the movement of guardians, scholars, and official envoys than for everyday travel. Floating observation drones glide silently overhead, their crystalline eyes scanning for disturbances. Patrols of animated armor march in perfect synchrony, their footfalls echoing across the polished stone avenues. Between the institutions, carefully maintained plazas of white marble and enchanted gardens create spaces for meditation and reflection, offering calm to those who bear the weight of command.

Here, technology and magic reach their most refined form: communication spires transmit messages across divides in seconds, teleportation gates hum with readiness, and the very walls of the buildings can shift to accommodate strategic needs. This is not a place of trade or leisure—it is a city where order is crafted, where power is managed, and where the destiny of all other divides is decided.

I cautiously navigated through Central Divide, taking utmost care to remain unseen. I employed shadow magic as my primary mode of transportation, but excessive use proved challenging, as it drained my magic energy significantly. After a grueling journey, I finally arrived at the Arena, the venue where the tournament would commence. It was a gate that marked the entrance. 

Behind this gate lies a sub-dimension that is as vast as Moltier City itself. Although I have never been there, I know that once I enter the arena, I will encounter the soul space of Dead Monsters. I believe it is a Grade 3 soulland or something close to it. 

(This is more challenging than I anticipated. If not for Soulland's will, I wouldn't be able to enter, but I know there might be an inheritance in the underground. While getting here, I realized that inheritance is safest when it's between Soulland and the physical world, which means the only way in is through the arena.)

I walked to gate and thought for some time before one idea popped up 

(This is crazy this is gonna fail definitely but this will be effective)

…

Author's note: The narrative is about to shift its perspective, transitioning from a first-person viewpoint to a third-person narration. I apologize if this change causes any discomfort, acknowledging the challenges of altering the point of view. The upcoming chapter will revert to a third-person narrative of Sans. Writing in the first person has been particularly difficult for me lately, but I plan to return to this perspective by chapter nine.

"What the hey!" the child monster screamed as he was falling from the sky. But soon, he shifted his body, and blue weaves of energy emerged from his body, slowing him down until he landed safely on the ground. 

The young monster trudged along the cobbled path leading toward the towering castle, his small claws scraping against the stone with each reluctant step. His stubby tail twitched in irritation as he kicked at stray pebbles, the rhythm of his complaint echoing in the quiet air.

"Ughhh… why won't he talk to me?" he whined, his voice cracking like a winded flute. "I told him to say his name! I even used noble authority! What kind of weirdo doesn't answer a noble kid like me?"

He sniffled, his little horns glinting in the dim light as he stomped forward. The grand silhouette of the castle loomed ahead, its spires piercing the clouds, but instead of awe, he filled the path with his grumbles.

"It's so unfair. He just… walked off! All creepy and quiet, with that scary mask and those clothes. Who even dresses like that? Not any noble I know! He's not cool at all. He's just… weird."

The boy stopped to catch his breath, puffing his cheeks out. His eyes darted around, half-hoping Sans would materialize behind a tree to explain himself, half-dreading that he actually would.

"And why did he fling me like that? I wasn't gonna hurt him! I just wanted to know his name!" He stomped again, small sparks of magic energy flickering around his feet in his frustration.

The castle gates came into view, tall and ornate, guarded by towering sentinels who didn't even glance at the whining child. He straightened his back for a moment, puffing up his chest as if trying to reclaim some dignity, but his voice quickly slipped back into a mutter.

"Hmph… I'll tell my dad. Yeah, I'll tell him a weird masked noble threw me into the sky like a sack of potatoes… and he didn't even say sorry."

His footsteps echoed up the grand staircase, each step louder than the last as he clambered toward the doors, still grumbling, "Weird, scary, rude, masky weirdo…"

By the time he reached the entrance, his voice had dwindled to a sulky hum, but the castle swallowed his complaints like it always did, leaving only the faint sound of his pouting breaths in the great hall.

After that day, Millia, the child monster, told his father which turn out his father didn't know anything about it. He also mentioned that no one had been detected, leaving both Millia and his father equally confused.

Over the following days, the castle and its surrounding territories were subjected to an exhaustive security sweep. Every corridor, hidden passage, and courtyard was meticulously inspected, and the sentinels were instructed to monitor the area with heightened vigilance. Specialized detection wards were activated, and arrays designed to sense fluctuations in magic energy were deployed throughout the castle grounds. 

Despite the comprehensive measures, the investigation yielded no tangible traces of the intruder. No residual magic energy lingered in the air, no physical footprints or disturbances marred the corridors—nothing to suggest that anyone had trespassed. This complete absence of evidence led the investigators to a startling conclusion: the mysterious figure they sought, which was Sans, must have employed some form of advanced illusion or concealment magic of the highest order. It explained why the entity had never spoken, as even a voice could have risked detection or broken the illusion's delicate weave.

The theory of illusion magic gained credibility, but one aspect continued to perplex both the investigators and the noble family. statements from Millia, the young heir, included the undeniable fact that the silent figure had hurled him skyward an action that required immense physical force or magical intervention. Yet, if the figure had been an illusion, such an act should have been impossible. No known illusion magic could directly affect physically in that manner, creating an unsolved paradox.

This singular inconsistency became the focus of long deliberations among the noble scholars and guards. They speculated whether the assailant possessed hybrid abilities perhaps combining advanced illusionary techniques with subtle telekinetic forces or if there was an entirely unknown branch of magic at play. Regardless, the enigma of how Sans had physically thrown Millia without leaving a single trace gnawed at them all. The mystery lingered like a shadow over the castle, a silent challenge that none could yet answer.

Millia's frustration simmered like a pot on the brink of boiling over. His small claws curled into fists as he stormed into the grand training hall. The wide chamber resonated with the quiet hum of enchanted mechanisms and the faint whisper of magic energy coursing through the walls. High ceilings arched above, adorned with rune-etched beams, and banners of noble houses swayed gently in the draft. The air carried a faint scent of metal and polished stone, a reminder of discipline and battle.

With a sharp stomp, he activated the holographic training array. Blue and silver light flickered, forming illusory opponents that twisted into shape—phantom warriors clad in sleek armor, their featureless faces staring silently at the young monster. Alongside these projections, the floor shifted as the artificial terra system rumbled to life. Segments of stone rose and fell, creating uneven terrain, ridges, and obstacles to mimic a real battlefield. The air filled with the low hum of shifting platforms, transforming the hall into a veritable war zone.

Millia drew his training sword a weightless metal blade that glimmered faintly with protective enchantments and lunged forward with a snarl. His first strike cleaved through a phantom's chest, scattering it into shards of blue light. He gritted his teeth, anger flaring. "I won't let my family be humiliated again!"

A second hologram lunged at him. He pivoted sharply, ducking beneath its swing, then jabbed upward, piercing its glowing core. The illusion shattered, and he felt a sting of pride mixed with frustration. "I won't let down my family!"

He sprinted toward a cluster of enemies, leaping over a rising stone slab. Midair, he flipped and brought his blade down in a vicious arc, splitting two holograms at once. Landing with a heavy thud, he gasped, his chest heaving. "I won't fall those tricks again…!"

A spinning spear aimed at his face. He twisted aside, parrying it with a metallic clang that reverberated through the hall. Sparks flew, and he felt the jolt in his arms. "He won't ignore me next time if we meet. I'll make sure he can't!"

He slid across the floor, spinning on one knee as he swiftly struck three times into a phantom's torso, disintegrating it into misty fragments. His horns glistened with sweat, and his magic flickered along his arms like restless lightning. "If I had been wise enough, I would have stopped him and captured him to prevent him from humiliating my family in that manner!"

Finally, he darted beneath a lunging hologram, driving his sword upward as he passed. The illusion burst into light, and Millia collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath. His small shoulders shook as he gripped his sword tightly with both hands, fire burning in his eyes.

Looking back, the whole incident was much less dramatic than Millia made it out to be. In reality, Sans's silent stroll through the noble house's domain was little more than a curious anomaly a brief moment of surprise that made the household pause and tighten its security for a few days. No rival noble houses mocked them, no officials came knocking, and nothing in their grand halls truly changed. For the family, it was a peculiar story to share over dinner, a cautionary tale to remind the guards to remain vigilant.

But for Millia? It was an epic tragedy of operatic proportions. In his mind, he had singlehandedly shamed his house, allowed a mysterious masked figure to throw him like a toy, and doomed their reputation for all time. Each glance from a servant felt like silent judgment, each sigh from his father a whispered accusation. He trained furiously, sulked dramatically, and replayed the event in his head as though he were the fallen hero of some grand tale.

Meanwhile, the adults had already moved on, chuckling quietly whenever the young heir stomped down the halls, muttering about honor and vengeance. The truth was simple: the incident barely scratched the surface of their lives. But in Millia's imagination, it was the stuff of legend an unforgettable humiliation that only he could feel with such intensity.

Millia's father gazed at his son with a sense of regret and concern. "I need to talk with him, or else he might hurt himself," he expressed, his voice tinged with worry.

Millia's mother turned to her husband, her expression a mix of anger and calm. "And whose fault is this again, husband?" she questioned, her eyes fixed on him.

The father sighed, acknowledging his role in the situation. "I mean, yeah, it is my fault that he is taking this seriously," he admitted, speaking with a hint of authority, though it was evident he recognized his own culpability.

The mother, her voice soft and gentle, looked at the hologram of their child in front of her. "My poor child, still too inexperienced to see things," she murmured, her gaze then shifting to her husband, waiting for his response.

The father hesitated, then spoke slowly, "I mean, it's my fault that I told him those stories repeatedly, but… no, it is my fault. I will talk to him."

Reflecting on Millia's past, when he was much younger, he exhibited daring and carefree behavior, often getting into trouble. To instill caution in Millia, his father implemented a plan of reading to him stories every night, sharing stories that highlighted the values of responsibility, social interaction, and honor. Initially, this method was successful; Millia became highly responsible and strictly followed rules and laws. However, over time, his behavior became excessive, leading to a loss of childlike innocence and an overly serious demeanor. This shift began to concern his parents, contributing to their current worry.

Sans's unexpected arrival added a layer of responsibility and feeling of being one in fault tensed him, making Millia feel a deep sense of anger and anxiety.

"Oh, when is the tournament again?" Millia's mother suddenly asked, her voice tinged with a hint of panic as the memory resurfaced.

Her father turned to her with a reassuring smile. "It's in three days," he replied calmly, trying to ease her worries.

"I see," she replied, swallowing hard. "I'm okay, just a few moments," she added, taking a seat on a chair. Her belly was noticeably expanded, clearly indicating her advanced pregnancy.

Concerned, father approached her and gently massaged her shoulder. "Oh, are you okay, honey? I think you need some rest," he suggested softly.

"I'm okay, honey. The baby is kicking; I think I'm going to give birth in a few months," she sighed, feeling exhausted. It wasn't just physical fatigue; her soul was constantly channeling magic energy to her child, leaving her with limited energy for anything else.

To replenish her magic energy, she extended her hand towards a nearby dessert and took a bite. The sweetness dissolved in her mouth, instantly filling her with renewed energy. The transformation was palpable as she felt invigorated once more. 

"Please, go speak to Millia and convince him to rest, my dear," her voice trembled with concern, eyes glistening with worry. "He's been training tirelessly for years for this tournament, and I fear he might push himself too hard. If he exhausts himself now, he could end up losing in the first round, and that would only make him feel worse. As his mother, my heart aches at the thought of him being so disappointed after all his hard work and dedication. I just want him to be well and to give it his best shot without risking his health." 

Father nodded and walked away to meet his child, engaging in a conversation with him. He managed to convince Millia to rest. Although Millia did rest because his father insisted, he was acutely aware of the mental pressure he faced. He understood that to win in the tournament, he needed to be in the best possible shape. The thought of losing a round and bringing shame to his family weighed heavily on his mind. After careful consideration, he logically concluded that resting was the best course of action to ensure he could perform at his peak. 

Over the next few days, he dedicated himself to meditation, focusing on reaching the peak stage of rank 3. Although he had the opportunity to advance to the next rank, he understood that this would be a poor decision. Each time a breakthrough occurs, innate traits are reset to their lowest level and begin to develop alongside other innate traits. Essentially, each stage is capable of utilizing one level of innate traits but cannot access or perform higher-level innate traits, regardless of whether the rank is lower or higher. Therefore, he concluded that it was in his best interest to concentrate on achieving the peak stage, as it was already quite fulfilling. 

As time goes day of tournament finally arrives