Stygon
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Chapter 154
🕑 Added 2025-07-21 16:07:53 +0000 UTCHe’d met up with Inyuden shortly before his meeting with all the people who wanted to see if he actually had a Mythic Profession. Because Inyuden, or Captain Toria, was responsible for safeguarding the knowledge of the quarantine. Dei’s plan involved partially telling people about the quarantine and luring more people in there, but he seemed to have forgotten that it wasn’t public knowledge. Universe travel in general was only known to the upper-middle class, but knowledge of the quarantine? That was for the top brass alone.
He understood why of course. If terrorists, other demons, or really anyone who wanted to cause havoc found out about the quarantine, they’d do everything they could to tear it apart. Nobody knowing where it was could be considered the first line of defense.
When he’d told Inyuden his plan and gotten the Captain in, the man simply rolled his eyes and agreed to go along with it.
“It’s a good plan, and it’ll beat back the demon even more, but fuck I’m gonna have to make an entire new department to handle the paperwork alone.”
*
The meeting to reveal Dei’s Profession went about as well as anyone could’ve planned, surrounded by hundreds that burst out into raucous shouting when presented with a literal impossibility.
“HOW?!” Was one of the biggest questions people asked, “HOW did you get a Mythic Profession, believed to be impossible, as your very first Profession?!”
“It says it right there in the description. I scared the System pretty badly by telling it some piece of information before I’d ever picked a Profession.”
“What’d you say?” was the next most common, really he was just going by who could shout the loudest based on what he answered. There was an effort to quiet the crowd and make it more organized, but the guards backed off when the researchers started getting violent after being told to calm down.
“I can’t tell you what I said, The System wouldn’t want me to.”
“Is The System alive?”
“As far as I’m aware, a part of The System has consciousness, yes. Most of it doesn’t though.”
The confusion got to be too much for him after that, his Soul affinity starting to wake up and deal damage to him with how uncomfortable this social situation was making him.
“If you want to see the Profession options I have now which are also Mythic, I need you all to quiet down. I’m attuned to Soul, and if I start taking damage, I’m leaving.”
There was an effort after that to alleviate the damage with Skills or enchantments, but he resisted the effort, saying “No, if you can’t calm down, I’m just leaving.”
They decided to call a brief recess.
*
Like before, the little researchers had split into a few different groups, each selecting a spokesman, and it went much more easily after that.
They asked everything they could about his current Profession, all the Skills, and what the stat distribution was. After that, they moved on to his options for the next evolution, which simply opened up an even longer round of questioning.
It was a lot calmer, so his attunement didn’t hurt as much, but they still had to stop after four or so hours, with promises to meet back up again in eight more.
*
It took three days to go through all their questions about his Mythic Professions alone; in that time, Iten went into more detail about the nature of the deal. Dei ended up taking a few naps during this time, despite not really needing to anymore, because of how mentally exhausted it made him.
The arrangements made for his reputation weren’t too complicated; He’d tell them stuff about Mythical grade, and in exchange Dei had a ton of contracts with big media companies to cover his story. He was basically doing a series of press conferences, and there were even competitions around the city with “Ask one question of Dei Grrata, the Mythic holder” as the reward. Iten covered all the deals with the media companies, but it was completely assured that his name would resound through the multiverse, as spreading that information was the payment he exacted.
It was a bit odd for sure, but it seemed that the research section of the city worked in tandem with the entertainment section to get what they wanted.
When, after three days, the questions about his Profession and its options were exhausted, they finally went to move on to his Class.
“What rank was your first Class, and what was it?”
That was a simple answer, but he shocked them when he said it was an Uncommon Prodigal Detector. Not because it was amazing, but because it was so bland. Their reactions gave him a pretty good chuckle.
Next, he told them about his second Class, Watchful Slaughterer, which was Epic rarity. He told them about his Slaughterer Achievement, and how it artificially bumped his Class upwards by one grade, making it better. Apparently, Slaughterers were completely unheard of outside the quarantine, which broke off into another tangent as he tried to explain what they were.
Most of the people there were, understandably, horrified.
“How would that affect the way they act? Are they… normal?” one asked.
“As far as everyone I’ve met tells me, I’m the most coherent and stable Slaughterer around.”
“How do you contain them? If they are so powerful, who enforces laws on them?”
“Honestly? I think it’s more of an ‘appeasement’ thing, where the governments just let them do what they want in exchange for help against our enemy. When one goes too far though, I believe there are people called Elite who put them down.”
“What’s the enemy?”
“Can’t say, but I can say it’d be an apocalypse if not for the Slaughterers, hence the slack they receive.”
“Why can’t you say?”
“Any further questions about the enemy in my home universe should be directed towards Captain Toria.”
As one, the crowd turned to look at the man standing off to the side, who just shrugged, “Finish the conference first.”
The crowd put that aside for the moment, asking “Are the Elite you spoke of the same as those who are granted the ‘Elite’ Achievement? The adaptable one.”
Confirming that, he got gasps, and found out it was actually illegal to produce Elites in the wider multiverse. They had an, at minimum, twenty percent fatality rate for the training. Any training course with less than twenty percent fatality did not qualify for Elite training.
Among the survivors, ninety five percent recorded permanent trauma. The success rate wasn’t even that high either, usually sitting between 0.02% or, at the high end, 0.04% for a weaker version of the Achievement.
Meaning if you took a crowd of 5,000 people, you would have to kill at least 1,000 of them, then traumatize 3,800 of them, to end up with exactly 1 Elite.
Very illegal.
The questions went on, and eventually turned from questions about him to Avium itself or, apparently, his Avium.
It was rather funny to find that this world was also called Avium for some reason. He didn’t think it was a coincidence, but in between conferences, he couldn’t find an actual reason why.
“Around thirty percent of planets in the multiverse are called Avium. Others are usually some variant of dirt, stone, or earth. It’s believed that Avium is the name for earth or dirt in some ancient language nobody can remember, and it’s just spread far and wide because of its age.”
With Dei’s insider knowledge, he guessed that the old “Super universe” was likely named Avium, or something of the sort, and many of its fragments inherited that.
Finally, it got to the fun part when they, at last, asked what his Class options were.
“Well, apparently the Slaughterer Achievement will make any grade go upwards by one. For my most recent Classes, I actually managed to get Mythic as well, which my Slaughterer Achievement upgraded again.”
There was no explosion of shouting or anything, as it seemed they’d learned their lessons. They just sat on the edge of their seats, and Dei went on, saying “It’s called Impossible, and I will share the screen with everyone in the room now,” sending it out to everyone and hearing furious scribbling.
“So what are your Class options?” one brave reporter asked.
Dei sent them the screen of his options, as well as the description and Skills of the only Mythic grade Class he had.
“Sir, I don’t think anyone cares about the Mythic,” another told him, getting a laugh from the room, “What are the Impossible Grade options?! What do they do? Father of Slaughter? Slaughterer of the Sundered Realm? What do they do?”
“Well, therein lies the end of the deal! I’m afraid you’re all only entitled to my Mythic grade options, not my Impossible options. I’m under no obligation at all to tell ya! I’ll give you a freebie though. Impossible grade is completely unique, and breaks the standard for stats and Skills given by normal Classes. How? Who’s to say!”
Dei spoke enthusiastically, rather enjoying how he’d finally gotten to the funny part. He felt like something of a showman doing a presentation, and he drew amusement from the dawning horror of their faces.
The deafening silence stretched on for several seconds, and Dei heard the familiar voice of Iten quietly whisper “No…” before the room erupted into shouts, and likely a few jeers, along with copious begging.
“I might tell you though!” he cut through the noise, bringing them back into silence, “But not here! You see, the enemy that my world faces is quite terrible. Despite all our efforts, we are losing. Not quickly, but the war front is bleak. I will not hide what my Classes do indefinitely, but if you want to know, you’ll have to follow me. Those who enter the war will not be allowed to back out, so if you’re willing to go to my home planet, you will have to take a vow to stay there, until the apocalypse is vanquished. It is a brutal stipulation, yes, but that is what I’m choosing to do.
“The enemy I intend to face is so dangerous, I’ve discovered, that anyone even existing on the same planet as it receives a massive EXP and grade boost to all their Classes, Professions, and Skills. You think my Mythic grade is impressive? I’d heard about three others back on my planet alone. This is one of the reasons why I was able to achieve Impossible in the first place. I won’t say everyone will get the options I do, but I’ve coordinated with Captain Toria. He will be taking applications to enter my homeworld after I am gone, for any who wish to follow me and sate their curiosity, or to become significantly stronger than anyone they’ve ever known. If you’re a warrior who wants to test their mettle or a researcher who wants to find my secrets, you’ll find a place on my home planet. If you’re not willing to spend the rest of your days on a prison planet though? Frankly, I don’t blame you. See ya!” he said, then walked off stage.
There was loud murmuring, but nobody tried to stop him.
*
He ended up teleporting to his apartment. The city streets were just too crowded at this point as many people tried to ask him questions.
When he arrived, he raised an eyebrow as he saw a tiny old lady sitting at his table.
“Mr. Grrata?” she said politely.
“Yea, that’s me. You are?”
“Someone of import. I’m aware of the entire situation, the quarantine and all. I came here long ago to retire, and I have, but I find myself quite curious. I ask you to make an exception.”
“Of?”
“Your Classes, boy! I want to know!”
Dei laughed, “You and everyone else. Alright Mrs. Import, who are you?”
She scowled, “It’s Ms. Letia. I am… I was someone, quite long ago. I’ve seen a lot of the world. I know a lot, I am a lot. I hold power that most could only dream of, but I’ve never encountered any Impossible grade.”
“Still not really getting why I should tell you and nobody else,” he said, but he was lying. He had a pretty good idea of who he was talking with, or at least what kind of power she had.
“Don’t patronize me, boy. I can see the gleam of humor in your eye. I was your intended audience, wasn’t I?”
“No clue what you’re talking about,” Dei insisted.
“Mythical Classers! Mythic users, whatever you want to call them! I have a Mythic Class, I’ve done things that most would consider impossible, yet you have surpassed my grade somehow. How? And more importantly, what does it do? I will give you anything to know. Better, I could give you things you can’t even think of.”
Dei chuckled, as this had been his plan from the start. He wasn’t so conceited as to believe he was the only Mythic grade user in history outside of the quarantine, but the more he learned about the world, the more he realized why it was called Impossible grade. Anywhere outside of quarantine, Impossible grade would be just that, not possible. Metasystem upgrades did not come easily. So he’d cast his little net of curiosity.
People with a Mythic Class were going to be powerful, and he’d want their help with beating back the demon, but what could he offer them? Nothing. Nothing but his Impossible grade. So his plan was fairly simple: tell everyone what the grade was, then tell nobody what it did. Letia here was a good example of the possibilities. She was some kind of Mythic grade user, near the end of her life and probably with immense power. What if she just said “Screw it, I’m dying soon anyway, might as well get one last cosmic answer,” and agree to come help.
“No, thanks. I’ve found that anything in the quarantine is a hundred times better than anything out here.” he answered her previous question, watching her face fall. “Still, the offer stands. Go in, help us beat back the demon, maybe even level up a couple times off it with the EXP bonus, and I’ll let you grill me on everything about my Class that I can answer.”
Still, she scowled. “At my level, there’s no chance of leveling any further, but I will consider your offer.”
Dei shrugged, as that’s all he really wanted. He didn’t think it would stop at that though.
Most people slowly went up in grades as they evolved their Classes, so in any normal circumstance, someone would have to become very high leveled to reach Mythic. That meant they were likely to be old.
Old powers, such as Ms. Letia here, were so old that he couldn’t see them not running into others their age. Once you lived long enough, and met the same person millenia apart, you tended to figure out they were fairly strong as well. Dei was banking on Ms. Letia going to the other Mythic grade Classers and telling them her plan, then bringing everyone into the quarantine.
Just like that he would, hopefully, have a group of Mythic grade adventurers fighting back the demon.
Seeing her pondering her options, Dei asked “Could I get you anything to eat or drink? This place is stocked very well, and I don’t know what half of it even is.”
She looked at him assessingly, probably still irritated at his words, then nodded, saying “I wouldn’t turn down a cup of Jadic Tea.”
He looked through the drink cabinets and found what she was talking about, followed the instructions, and got them both a cup.
“Soooo,” he said, “Can I Identify you?”
She gave him a long look, “Without telling me anything about yourself, you want to know everything about me?”
“Not at all! It’s hardly fair that you get to know all my options and my level, but I don’t get to know any of yours. I just wanna know how long it usually takes to get Mythic grade. I’m curious! All your history books said it was impossible. Then I got Impossible.”
She let out something that sounded like a squeakish grunt. “Fine. But I’m not telling you my age.”
“I don’t mind, I’m more interested in the level.”
Sending out a Kindness Identify, he got the answer to what people usually had to do to reach Mythic.
[Giant - Level 801]
“Giant?” he asked incredulously, looking at the four foot tall woman while he was approximately eleven.
“Feh, it means I follow the path of Titans. You should know that, considering I smell Reaper on you.”
“I know, but I thought all Giants were… well… giant.”
“I can be,” she conceded, and they fell into silence for a few moments.
“...Where’d you get the one level?”
“Hm?”
“You’re level eight hundred and one. I’m sure there’s a story behind the one. Sure, I’m guessing it gets near impossible to level up past eight hundred, but that just makes me even more curious as to how you leveled up an eighth-evolution Mythic grade Class. It took me a lot of effort to level my zero-evolution Mythic grade Profession, I wanna know what it was like for you.”
She barked a laugh, “No answers for me, all of them for you, eh?”
“Hey lady, I’m just making small talk here. You broke into my house.”
She grinned, “Well if you must know…”
They continued to chat throughout the day, with her recounting tales of her journey through a much different multiverse, and Dei talking about the various secrets he’d found in turn. Over the course of their conversation, he found there were actually quite a few similarities.
Comments
Erebus Dread
Wonder if the system would reward him for intentionally bringing many mythic grades to help the quarantine. I mean, the quarantine is the System's work, it might have some protocols to reward entities that directly help it. Or the consciousness could counter the restrictions on favoritism better with that rational.
