Chapter 88: The World We Live In

  Envidius’s question echoed through the white stone hall. The finalists exchanged wary glances, unwilling to show any sign of weakness before their opponents. Finally, Ivan from the 63rd dimension spoke up cautiously.

  "Is it because of its long tradition?"

  The Observer smiled thinly.

  "The so-called Great Order established by the celestials has a far longer tradition."

  Though he spoke casually, the faces of those present immediately paled. Was it not sacrilege to utter such words within the ancient temple of the Ruler of Hells? Envidius, however, seemed entirely unconcerned.

  "Anyone else?"

  His gaze drifted toward Svarticus, the only one among them who had mastered one of the Devil Virtues. The adept reflected for a moment before suggesting a completely different direction.

  "It is about the casting off of doubt—the sacrifice of internal energy to transform it into true power."

  The Observer considered this, then nodded slowly. While the young adept’s perspective was incomplete, it possessed a solid foundation. Yet, it still missed the heart of the matter.

  "Soul Stones allow for the cultivation of any character—traits like courage or a thirst for battle. And yet, among such virtues, as well as various levels of nonsense..." here his gaze fell upon Justinian, a fact noted by the other adepts, "...cultivation bases built upon the Devil Virtues are the most desired. Why?"

  The only answer was silence. Envidius smiled, a flicker of contempt hidden in his eyes.

  "Watch closely."

  The devil raised his right hand, letting his sleeve fall to his elbow. His lips moved slightly as he uttered a whisper inaudible to the rest. The air in the hall grew heavy; every breath became a labor of pain.

  Then, it happened.

  Black smoke began to rise from the hand, and darkness swallowed them all! Justinian felt something pulling him downward, but the gloom was so impenetrable he couldn't even see his own body. He immediately strained his senses, trying to grasp his surroundings, but the effort only brought a searing pain.

  'What is this strange darkness?'

  In the backlash he just felt, there was a sense of profound disdain—as if the world itself was insulted that he dared to act without a command. He had no time to ponder it, however.

  Within seconds, the darkness became a memory, replaced by a blinding, white radiance. Still falling, Justinian felt a violent wind lash against his face as other presences manifested nearby.

  Only after a moment, as if muffled by the surrounding world, did he recognize them as the auras of the other adepts. Above them, flying with a dignified grace and showing no sign of being controlled, was Envidius. He was the only one who remained in physical form.

  Justinian managed a glance toward Septima’s aura just as they plunged into a layer of massive clouds. Similar to when they first entered the 60th dimension, a vast land spread out beneath them. The problem was that the adepts were given no time to admire it; less than half a second later, a desperate groan echoed in each of their souls.

  "What is this... where is this pain coming from?!"

  What they felt was a colossal weight crushing their souls, as if the entire sky had been placed upon the shoulders of a single wretch. Justinian focused every ounce of his mental strength just to keep from losing his mind—to keep from screaming like one of the adepts had moments ago. Then, a dismissive snort rang out.

  "Hmph... weaklings."

  The voice in their souls belonged to Envidius. It carried a peculiar power that made the pressure slightly more bearable. A few seconds later, the panic of the disembodied adepts subsided, replaced by disbelief and confusion. Something in their collective consciousness felt different—vastly broader than before.

  One, two, then dozens, hundreds, thousands, and millions. Countless presences—some alone, some in groups—all of them alive! It was as if... they could feel the entire world beneath them. But the experience wasn't over.

  "You had better focus."

  The Observer continued to shield them with his strange power as they accelerated sharply toward the magnificent land. They came to a halt several kilometers above the ground, where the auras of a dozen animals inhabiting the area became clearer than the rest.

  It was a pack of young wolves hunting together, struggling to survive. In their incorporeal state, the adepts saw time as a series of passing images; sometimes a whole day flashed by in a second. As the group grew, a leader naturally emerged—the strongest wolf, characterized by his courage and massive fangs. Under his rule, the pack prospered, soon swelling into a great horde.

  But the souls watching could see something else. Svarticus’s voice echoed in the adepts' minds.

  "Honorable Observer, what are these colors?"

  Over time, some of the wolves developed a silver aura. These individuals rarely picked fights, seldom ate more than their share, and patiently fulfilled their duties to the pack. Simultaneously, other auras appeared. Some were not satisfied with their rations; bit by bit, they grew bolder, stealing the portions of others. The strongest of these wolves who were surrounded by a red aura, watched the pack leader with hungry eyes.

  Envidius did not answer Svarticus’s question. Instead, the adepts watched as the story of the pack reached its end. One day, they encountered a rival horde. After a bloody battle in which the leader was heavily wounded, they succeeded in claiming new territory.

  But then, something shifted.

  The wounded leader was attacked by one of the red-aura males. The traitor made quick work of his weakened opponent. The following "days" showed the silver-aura animals working with their usual determination—even exerting themselves more than before—while the new leader and the other "reds" feasted on the fruits of their labor.

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  It didn't take long for the latter to become healthier than the rest. Eventually, the pack encountered an even stronger rival; in the ensuing slaughter, only the selfish "reds," who thought only of their own escape, survived. As the pack scattered, the adepts' souls were whisked away to another part of the planet.

  This time, they observed life in a devil village. It was a peculiar sight.

  "How can anything survive in such conditions?"

  At first glance, it was clear the harvests were failing. Everyone was on the brink of starvation. In this tableau of despair, two wealthy houses stood out. Just as before, their owners possessed two distinct aura colors.

  The Silver one approached his servants with compassion, sharing his reserves during the famine. The Red one, however, brutally punished anyone who dared ask for help. Within four seconds, the scene shifted violently, yet the adepts understood everything that occurred.

  Shortly after the supplies ran out, the devils went mad with hunger. Among the first to snap were the servants of the Silver owner—the ones he had fairly fed. They killed him, only to find he truly had nothing left. The situation was the opposite for the Red owner; through his brutality and lack of remorse, he had preserved enough strength to repel the attackers and outlive the rest of the village.

  The observations did not end there. The world accelerated. Over the span of a few minutes, the adepts experienced thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of stories from the lives of devils, humans, and animals. Though there were exceptions to the rule, the vast majority confirmed a specific pattern.

  "That is enough."

  As Envidius spoke, that entire vast world—all the auras and lives—vanished. The adepts found themselves back in the ancient hall of white stone. The devil noted with satisfaction that the presentation had worked as intended.

  'Even if the level of pressure they can withstand is pathetic...'

  Nearly all the Infernal representatives, and the human, were pale and barely able to stand. The sight of the latter was particularly heartening to the Observer. Envidius had no intention of explaining the Devil Virtues to these lower-tier beings in a more accessible way. They weren't worthy.

  However, chastising the arrogance of a creature attempting petty tricks in the presence of great beings from the higher hells? His lips curled into a small smile, making no effort to hide his mockery. He turned his gaze toward Justinian, who was still swaying on his feet, trying to regain his balance.

  "Do you see the flaws in your cultivation base now? These are not mere differences in belief or a matter of custom. Your pathetic 'justice' is like refusing to wear a hat in a blizzard just to spite someone’s good advice—you are simply freezing your own ears off."

  As he spoke of justice, he invisibly crossed two fingers inside his sleeve, careful not to draw the wrath of the dimension.

  "Witness great Devil mercy. I will allow you to become my personal servant, provided you commit to abandoning your ridiculous views."

  Ivan and Ihor exchanged surprised looks. The rest of the adepts were equally stunned—save for the unconscious devil with the elongated face. Only Septima looked at Justinian, who had been listening to Envidius’s speech with an air of curiosity.

  With a flick of his hand, the Observer sent a small, red flame of strange energy toward the unconscious devil from the 61st dimension.

  "Consider this a promise of the power you could reach."

  When the energy touched Svarticus’s subordinate, there was no immediate effect. But after a few seconds, something terrifying began to happen. The devil let out a roar of agonizing pain, and the air around him began to warp, forming a red aura identical to the ones they had seen in the vision!

  Then, to the shock of the assembly, the semi-conscious devil lunged at Justinian!

  "That is the Devilish Virtue of Wrath!"

  "Is it not even more powerful than Svarticus’s?"

  "How is this even possible?!"

  Envidius felt his contempt for the surrounding adepts grow as he listened to their chatter. Justinian, meanwhile, struggled to kick away the possessed devil. Only a wave of the Observer’s hand gave him a moment to breathe.

  Finally, Justinian looked the devil in the eye.

  "I wondered where all that business with the wolves and the famine-induced madness was going. It turns out the punchline is the supposed futility of my cultivation..."

  He shook his head with a bitter smile.

  "Even though I keep my convictions to myself, they still seem to cause trouble."

  Envidius raised an eyebrow, not expecting the matter to conclude so easily.

  "So..."

  "My cultivation is my business. I’m afraid, however, that I have lived as a human for far too long to start behaving like an animal."

  A shadow instantly fell over the Observer’s face. To such insolence from a creature of the pathetic 66th dimension, he had to react. He did so by unleashing the full fury of the energy-possessed devil.

  The semi-conscious attacker sprinted at Justinian, channeling energy into his palms for a strike, panting heavily. Grim Judge didn't even look at him. Instead, he addressed Envidius one last time.

  "Besides..."

  The Devil leaped, releasing the accumulated energy!

  "...I don't need that to be strong."

  At that exact moment, Justinian’s technique—Iron Hand of Law—struck the assailant with horrific force.

  The resulting shockwaves were so powerful they shook the very foundation of the ancient auditorium!

  The adepts shielded themselves in shock. A second later, the semi-conscious Devil crashed into the white stone walls, shattering the masonry and falling still.

  The consultations ended shortly thereafter. The atmosphere remained tense, but Envidius did not attack Justinian directly. The latter, under Septima’s relentless gaze, did not dare provoke anyone further.

  The ancient estate began to empty as the adepts departed for their respective residences. Some, like Ivan, Ihor, and Bahadyr, exchanged mysterious looks but took no action against the pair from the 66th dimension.

  As Justinian and Septima were about to leave, someone unexpected intervened.

  "Stop."

  Justinian turned, surprised to see Svarticus carrying his unconscious subordinate over his shoulders. Following the confrontation, the human was in a foul mood, and his relationship with the son of the 61st dimension's Voivode was already fraught. His response lacked enthusiasm.

  "What is it?"

  A strange shadow of curiosity flickered in Svarticus’s eyes—a look he hadn't shown until now.

  "He’s here, isn't he?"

  "Who?"

  The Devil looked at him with total confidence, as if he already knew the truth.

  "The madman who destroyed my father’s life."

  At the same time the consultations concluded, a Devil of the Foundation Stabilization rank appeared in the skies of the 60th dimension. His determined expression and rapid flight toward the only city in this lush, green land suggested a singular, urgent purpose.

  In reality, he was on a mission of vital importance. Ignoring the cost to his energy reserves, he pushed himself to his full potential to cut through the air and reach the city.

  At least, that was his plan until he lost all control over his body and plummeted to the earth with a heavy thud.

  "Hey! Are you alright?!"

  The shout reached him before he could even crawl out of the crater his impact had created.

  "What..."

  Before his eyes stood a middle-aged, bald Devil wearing distinctive trousers and sporting a curled mustache.

  "I was passing by when you just dropped out of the sky! What happened to you?"

  "I... I must..."

  The stranger leaned over him, shaking his head at the extent of his injuries, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

  "Easy now, friend. First, you need to rest."

  "Rudnic—"

  He never finished the sentence. A small shashka blade, sliding from the bald Devil’s sleeve, silenced him. For the last time.

  "Interesting that they sent such a messenger. Perhaps there really is something to what Ihor was saying."

  The newcomer searched the dead man’s pockets, only to let out a low whistle when he found a letter addressed to Nikodem Rudnicki. Smiling with interest, he immediately began to read. A few seconds later, the letter slipped fell from his hands.

  The Devil began to shake uncontrollably, his face turning deathly pale. This lasted for a long moment until he suddenly turned away and erupted into a loud, booming laugh! Still struggling to contain himself, he called out toward the nearby forest.

  "Brothers!"

  "Honorable Voivode?"

  "Prepare to leave this dimension immediately. We have business to attend to in the 66th dimension!"

  As he spoke those words, an unbridled greed ignited in his eyes.