Chapter 329: Rulers (2/2)

Looking at all the ridiculous levels, I found Obolis staring into the starry abyss. He interlocked his hands behind himself, not speaking with his other elevator member. He turned and met my eye, his own widening. He raised a hand, and I did the same. I even got a nice slice of humble pie after peering at a few of the other rulers' titles.

Gorjah, the Alethic Constant | Level 28,901 | Guild: The Erudite Path | Class: Founder...

Mala-Jaysah, the Horizon Shatterer | Level 42,153 | Guild: World Cleansers | Class: Destroyer...

Biacknok, All Bringer | Level 34,238 | Guild: Way of Enlightenment | Class: Cultivator...

Shalahora's status dwarfed theirs, but they still owning imposing titles with no less impressive backings. Spear found me gawking, and he gestured to the starry abyss,

”You may think of yourself as a dimension, but this is what a pocket dimension can truly be. Schema crafted it using the same technology as his rings. It lacks the same restraints, and this is that might displayed in full.”

I smiled at the distant galaxies, none of them real, ”It is impressive, but this place lacks the size and scope of an actual dimension. This place is small, almost confining even.”

Shalahora misted up to the glass. It radiated out, ”And you know this...How, exactly?”

I shrugged, ”I'm a dimension.”

Shalahora murmured, ”It says...You are a multiverse.”

I raised my palms to the entity, ”Woah now, I do not recognize that title just yet. I'm just starting to get into the whole Harbinger of Cataclysm thing. A Multiverse? I'm not quite there yet.”

”Then I will call you...As such.”

Another quiet came as quickly as it shattered. Turning to the other elevators, I gazed at the shadowy figures in the distance. The metal trusses whirled by, blocking my view in a blur. My eyes adjusted, and I got another batch of statuses.

Even from just the titles over their heads, the levels alone averaged at absurd heights. The average range sat somewhere between 25 and 50 thousand. At least from a cursory glance, the highest leveled one was the purple blot of miasma beside me. The ephemeral creature took up the majority of its elevator despite its misty form.

It gazed out with pale blue eyes, its gaze carrying an empty coldness. It sighed before linking with me once more, ”Have you felt it?”

I shook my head, ”What is there to feel exactly?”

It peered up, and its voice cleared up some in my mind, ”This meeting...It's purpose. It will be...Drudgery. A nightmare. I despise these gatherings. Do you?”

I put my hands on my hips, trying to talk to the kind of horrifying thing.

”Yeah, I get that. I'm kind of trying to keep myself busy too. I mean, this was a real wrench in my plans.”

I sounded weird even to myself. Shalahora seethed, ”It is the war. Elysium. They've gained new planets.”

My eyes widened. They already conquered more territory. That meant our guild stopped them from expanding more than I imagined. In the end, I expected as much. Elysium used a giant nanomachine artifact from an alien world, reverse engineered an Old One, and created an eldritch Hybrid. Taking over a few planets acted like an un-noteworthy end to their killer resume when compared to that.

At the same time, being called here for Elysium sent warning bells off in my head. If Schema tried drafting our guild back into the war, I might be forced into service. That being said, it might be better to be cut off from Schema than forced to fight Elysium. The sheer number of possibilities for those two decisions burst in my mind like a mental volcano.

Shalahora cackled before thinking over, ”Fate will decide the outcome. Your belief that you may change it is simply an illusion.”

I raised a brow, ”I don't know. I think believing choice is an illusion is just a cop-out. I'm not exactly a philosopher, though, so take what I say with a grain of salt.”

The connection dimmed, and it turned away once more. It carried no emotion, an almost possessed creature. It stayed still as the elevator locked into the upper platform above us, the whirling, buzzing sound of raw mana flooding into our area. We hovered up slowly before closing into a position.

The energy within the area dimmed before the walls disintegrated away. They formed into the floor, revealing the other ruler classes around us both. Quite a few stared our way, many of them accustomed to this process. Shalahora was one of them. The miasma cloud peered up, and I followed suit.

Above us, an Overseer oversaw the area. Plated in dark armor, it showed a different model than the ordinarily bright blue of before. It pulsed red energy, reminding me of the Hybridized Overseer Elysium controlled. If I guessed right, this model used ascendant mana as the base, making it more of a war machine.

It spoke with blood in its voice, confirming my thoughts, ”You are all here. Good. Remain calm before Schema's arrival.”

In all directions, uplighting exposed venerable stonework. The cipher smothered it all, ancient and elegant writing used for all of it. An earthy scent floated off the rock, molding with the smell of stagnant air. It siphoned into the Overseer's palm as it echoed out,

”You have been called here for the 7,821st galactic council. 500 random ruling class members were called here. During this time, convey your concerns to Schema. Our savior will do what it can to rectify your complaints. However, understand time constraints and resource demands.”

Shalahora let out a haunting laugh before murmuring, ”That means it will do nothing.”

I crossed my arms, ”I figured as much.”

The Overseer whipped its arm that held the condensed air. It blew into the roof of the well-maintained ruins, and dirt scraped off every surface. Flaying the debris off the inscriptions, the Overseer's magic cleaned every inch of the entire expanse. By the time it finished, beams of red light had trickled into this domain. Seconds after, the cipher runes glowed on every surface, a primordial, dark blue mana coursing in.

It kept channeling for a few seconds before a strange precision crossed over the entire expanse. I looked around, feeling dissected, prodded, and peered through. It reminded me of Plazia's description of my primordial aura, but this originated from elsewhere. Booming from all directions, the source announced itself.

”I am Schema. This is the beginning of the 7,821st galactic council meeting. Now, for the first order of business.”

Schema radiated out from every direction,

”It's time for introductions. New ruling class members first.”