[You have successfully defeated the sons of Marar’bel and reached the Ainfidd Kingdom] [Your actions are being judged…] [You have been awarded 8 Incarnations Points for a splendid performance!] “What?” the Incarnate was stunned. However, in the name of caution, he quickly cast aside his curiosity and surveyed his surroundings. Getting distracted while in unfamiliar territory was a sure way to die a pathetic death in his experience. Thus, he prioritized studying his surroundings. To his surprise, he was standing around five meters away from a great slope that spotted both large, rough rocks and small bits of greenery like bushes and shrubs. All this was a little hard to see as the darkness of night was prevalent, making the Incarnate wonder if there was even a daytime in this place defined by daylight. It was starting to seem unlikely. The Incarnate had counted the days earlier by using the mechanics of the Hermetic Vault. When a new day began, he was able to add another five ite

“…” The Incarnate was shocked by all this information. It both eased the bloated, heavy bag of questions he had and made it heavier, as the number of questions he had also swelled. So much could be gleaned from this record, this diary. The first thing the Incarnate had latched onto was Marar’bel’s identity. Marar’bel was the Queen of the Ainfidd Kingdom and her husband was King Alabas, the man whose name this Floor identified. All of a sudden, the Incarnate felt that the name ‘Ruins of the Deserted King Alabas’ made much more sense now. It seemed that the Ainfidd Kingdom was a stalwart nation with a mighty force and a mighty King, one that had tasted many victories against great foes. Yet, it fell because of this woman, Marar’bel and her influence. She had harbored her own goals and ideals, but knowing that she couldn’t expose them to the King, she instead puppeteered the King’s Councilmen to steer his decisions. To push forth her own agenda. What stood out particularly to the

The darkness unraveled modestly before the Valiant Subject’s Ward. It peeled from the Incarnate like a layer of dirt, leaving him feeling as though the world was basted with hope again.The Demonling had underestimated just how suffocating the darkness was. He had thought that perhaps it was simply the absence of light fitted through the uncanny power known as Sorcery, disallowing Alabas and his people from leaving Ainfidd, but it was a lot more than that.If one was drowned in it, all their senses would be voided.They would be crippled of their ability to perceive the world around them, and such a thing, which most people relied on for the majority of their lives wasn’t essential to keeping their sanity.The darkness was designed to inspire despair and terror, and the Incarnate was ashamed to even think about what would have happened if his shield hadn’t mysteriously warded away the sinister effect of the all-encompassing black.Speaking of this mystery, after Incarnate ^8001 recall

The first thing the Incarnate had thought about when he felt the raging waves of power exploding from the figure on the throne, was what his experiences back in his old life had taught him to do when dealing with offended important officials. Whether it be a King, a Prince, or a nobleman, a foot soldier of no renown like him would have to bow and express an unreal degree of humility and make himself not look like anything worth punishing. This lesson from a past life was indispensable right now. The Incarnate had realized that the man seated on the throne was without a doubt King Alabas. Flying Reaper Sword. It had been an error on his part to not show a King the respect he deserved from the start, and thus why he begged to be forgiven. Unbeknownst to him, however, the simple gesture he did – planting himself low so meaningfully – eased the King’s fierce emotion, and he decided against doing him any harm. “Tell me. Who are you?” Alabas asked. “What manner of bravery or foolishne

The Demonling felt an intense, pulsing sting as blood poured from his face, neck and chest, but at the same time, a fiercely hot sensation ran through his body, empowering it tremendously even as he gasped in agony.The Incarnate, no, Arlosse had been blessed with 10 additional points to each of his physical attributes – which didn’t include his Spirit Essence – and his body, which had already been anomalous, took especially kindly to the overwhelming burst of power that surged in him.His bleeding slowed until it stopped, and then the wounds he had sustained, the torn skin from the first slash that had reached him, inched inward, attempting to mend themselves in real-time.Arlosse shook.He took long, deep breaths, attempting to relax himself, but his body refused to calm down. His instincts and nerves were rattled. Before the bliss that was the abundant strength in the form of attribute points, there had been the crippling fear brought on by sure and absolute death.The Incarnate ha