Chapter 129: Time for the Third Battle
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Virgil sat in a large chair designed for his body at the edge of Walker’s bed. Use of the Continuum strand had consistently caused great harm to his body, Primordial or not. He simply wasn’t designed for sudden and dramatic growth. Tanking hits from close to a hundred giants had only exacerbated the problem.

Thus, he was stuck in that position as he communicated with the members of his preparatory teams for the third battle. He thought the task would be easy to manage, but was proven right again in that life has a way of messing with the greatest of plans.

“Fucking Runner,” He remarked for the third time since lying down.

“Language,” Athena said for the third time as well, sitting up beside him with her back against the wall. Their physical closeness was only a recent change in their lives. Following Walker’s return from the Grand Auction, the Godeater system seemed almost to be dormant; its physical manifestations, visually seen in the change to Walker’s hair, were muted-seemingly weakened for the time being. With the return of Walker’s brown locks, so too did his control of the parasite within. But that wasn’t what he was having trouble with right now.

 

Time remaining until the next battle: 8 minutes.

 

Walker pulled up the most recent chat he’d been having issues with.

One-Hundred Man Cohort: Third Battle Prepatory Army

 

Runner Grove: Why don’t you cry about it?

Karen Gold: But we could die! He has no right to ask this of us.

Lucy Reed: He created us, Karen. He has every right.

Chipper Guardian: Can we please stop with this chat? I am trying to mentally prepare myself for the forthcoming battle.

Runner Grove: Sorry Chipper

Lucy Reed: I apologize, Friend Chipper.

Karen Gold: But we could die!

Walker closed the chat again, the back of his hand resting on his forehead, “I don’t know whose worse. Karen or Runner.”

“When you select them, they will not have a choice,” Virgil replied, staring straight ahead as he worked on something.

“That is rather heartless, Virgil.” Athena replied softly, “You have to think about what they’re going through, Walker. They’re about to be thrust into an impossible battle against creatures we can never truly prepare for. A little empathy, if not sympathy, could go a long way.”

“Hearts do not win battles,” Virgil countered.

“They might,” Walker replied wistfully, “I ever tell you about the magic soda can and the battle of Kwaja Kinte?”

“No?” Athena said questioningly.

“That was not heart, Walker. That was adrenaline.”

“Sometimes a little bit of courage can take you further than you ever dreamed.” Walker replied with a smile at his betrothed as the countdown entered the last seconds. “Wish me luck, babe.”

“More than luck,” Athena replied with a different sound to her voice. Inching closer, she wrapped Walker’s arm around her, placing a hand on his chest, “When you get back, maybe we can finally have a little fun?”

“What kind of fun?” Walker said, now suddenly very interested in the battle being far away.

“The kind that only has you and me in it,” She replied with a telling look at the ten-foot black squirrel in the corner of the room.

“Walk-”

Whatever Virgil was about to say went out the window as Walker felt everything freeze around him.

 

Congratulations Dante! You've made it to the third battle!

Translocation in

5.

4.

3.

2.

1.

 

Walker grimaced as the pleasant surroundings and soft feelings faded away. What faded in its place was something entirely unexpected.

In the first two battles, his opponent had always been on a stage, far but not too far in the distance. In the third battle, that seems to not be the case, as only ten feet away stood a white and blue creature looking right back at him.

 

Battle!

Dante vs. Mirail

- - -

Rules:

Stage: System-based: Temporal.

Entities allowed: None.

Rounds: Three.

Battle Type: Creation.

Evolution possible: Yes.

Weapons allowed: No.

Extenuating Circumstance: The battle, as decided by the Alpha Protocol Council, will be a focus on the Temporal Subsystem and its uses. You have five minutes to prepare yourselves.

- - -

Reward for the winner: All of the losing Creator's resources. A copy of the losing Creator’s genera. One ability by choice.

Reward for the loser: Survival and placement back into their universe at the time of their removal.

- - -

Battle begins in 5 minutes.

System notice for both participants: Creator Dante has access to the Betting system!

Activating the Betting system now…

 

Welcome Creator Dante!

The Betting system is unique in that it can only activate at the beginning of a battle.

While you have unlocked the system, your opponent, Creator Mirail, will have access to it as well.

Please bare in mind that all bets, when finalized, cannot be revoked.

The following are your optio-

 

Walker stopped reading at an odd hollow sound coming from his opponent.

“What luck!” The creature said, looking at his screen, “To think my opponent would have access to the powerful Betting system. Well crack my icy behind.” He looked over at Walker, pale blue orbs floating within a crystal-covered skull, “I mean, I was told I’d have great odds against…Dante…Dante…where have I heard that name before?”

Walker mentally braced for what he knew would come. The moment the screen had hit his eyes, his memory had flashed back to a certain chatroom, where a certain asshole had conversed with him, among others.

“Wait a moment,” The icy blue creature said. “You’re the moron who created that creature who rampaged all across the Rendition, aren’t you?”

And there it was. Walker knew from the chatroom what kind of person this was. In his world, he’d be called a cyber bully. One of those who like to hide in the shadows, poking at others insecurities in order to make themselves feel better.

The hollow sound returned, Walker now recognizing it for laughter, “I should really thank you, fool. Because of your ill-created entity, several lesser forms were removed from this rendition, elevating the rest of us. Ah, my luck once again rises to meet the mark. And because I now know just how stupid you truly are, that makes the next step so very easy.”

 

System notice:

Creator Mirail has bet the following:

 

His Genera in full with no restrictions.

All abilities, excluding one: Recovery

All entities

All landmasses.

All resources.

All titles.

Special circumstance: Should Creator Mirail win the battle, Creator Dante will become enslaved to the needs of Creator Mirail.

 

“So, fool, how confident are you?” Mirail said with another hollow laugh, “Are you willing to bet everything you have that your control of Temporal energy is better than mine?”

“Fucking slavery?” Walker said after reading the screen. Then, another notice hit him.

System notice:

 

Creator Dante, you may accept all of Creator Mirail’s bets as they are, or make modifications as you deem fit.

 

Warning due to recognition of special circumstances: If you accept all bets and lose the battle, you will not be remanded back to your planet at the time of your translocation.

 

Instead, you will be granted to Creator Mirail with full rights to do with you as he wishes. Any attempts to violate any orders given by Creator Mirail will be accompanied by harsh judgment from the system.

 

Any and all modifications to the current bet will remove the special circumstance applied by the opposing Creator.

 

A series of options presented themselves to Walker. He could remove some of the bets, modify them, or accept Mirail’s bet. The system explicitly, and for once, helpfully, told him that if he changed the bet at all, the slavery contract would go away.

As the hollow sound of laughter echoed in front of him, Walker went with his gut and chose to accept the bet as is, inputting the one ability he would save as the first one he ever received. His assistant and friend, Virgil.

The laughter stopped.

“You chose to save your worthless assistant? He said you were stupid, but he never said this stupid. Wow.” He laughed again, “Okay, Dante. Let's see how it goes for you! The only thing I can guarantee is disappointment!”

Both Creators have submitted their bets and the allotted time is soon to end.

 

In a short time, the first round will begin.

Each round will present the Creators with different challenges. Each will require forethought, decisive action, and ingenuity.

Modified response: Upon completion of this battle and due to special circumstances, the losing Creator will be translocated to the position of the winning Creator’s planet of operations.

All abilities, entities, landmasses, titles and resources will go to the Winner. The loser will be indentured to the winning Creator until they are optionally released or perish.

 

Final and only warning:

The death of a Creator will immediately fail the survivor, acting as a loss for all intents and purposes.

 

The translocation of materials for the first round will begin in three seconds.

3.
2.
1.


Begin

 

The space between Walker and his opponent shifted, the ground under their feet moving until they stood fifty feet apart. Instantly, he began to wonder why they were placed face to face at the beginning, but he didn’t have time to consider it for long as multiple things happened simultaneously.

First, his overlay updated yet again. Naturally, it was something Virgil warned would happen.

 

Alpha Protocol Council changes detected…

 

Then, the sky overhead, once a black pit of darkness without even stars to light the way, now peeled back to reveal something wholly unexpected. Row after row of screaming people appeared, sitting in stands as far up as he could see. A holographic projection appeared on opposing sides of the now exposed arena, Mirail on one, with Walker on the other. Both of their names were stamped upon the top of the screen, only where Walker’s simply said Dante, Mirails had a title that came before it.

Just as he was starting to adjust to the difference in noise, a new sound accompanied it, bouncing around the entirety of the area.

“Here we have it citizens of the Multiverse! The one you’ve all heard of! Dante the Human Creator! Dante the Inventor! Dante, the one to watch!”

On one side, where people were greatly clumped together, the cheering was subdued. On the other, where Walker’s enhanced eyes found a large group of separated cabanas, cheers exploded out.

“Make me one of your special bags, Dante! I’ll pay!

“Get that frozen bastard!”

“I’ll have your babies if you grant me your evolution!”

The broadcaster waited until the cheers subsided before speaking again, “His opponent. A titled Scion of the Cerulean rendition. A member of the third branch of the Evolvers, and owner of ten planets across the multiverse, including the gambling haven of Luck’s Refuge. Lord Mirail the Creator!”

The cheers were even more split this time. Nobody from what Walker assumed was the cheap seats made a sound, whereas, on the wealthier side, some outright booed.

“Wipe him out, Dante! He’s a real piece of shit!”

“I want my house back, Mirail! That wheel was rigged!”

“For the Ceruleans!”

While all of this occurred, Walker fixed his eyes on the creature across from him. When the cheers had first started, Walker getting the lay of the land visually, his opponent had sneered at him. But when the announcer shifted toward Mirail himself, that sneer had turned to smiles and waves for all of a few seconds. That had only lasted long enough for him to hear the shouting and heckling. Slowly at first, his blue-toned figure began to glow a soft red. By the time the murmurs had died down, a soft rose color emitted from across his icy body.

“You cannot win!” He yelled across the way, the arena broadcast picking up his words, “I’ll not allow some peasant from a backwater rendition to claim dominion over what’s mine! Even if I have to kill you, I’ll make sure the story of Dante the Creator ends here.”

Walker looked back at the crowd, noting how those in the clumped seating took his words. What had once been silence now became a hissing, jeering sound as they stomped in their seats, powerful enough that Walker could feel it so far below them. He also surreptitiously noted that the wealthier side was less than a tenth the size of them.

“Interesting,” Walker said with a smile.

“What’s interesting, fool?”

“Nothing at all.” He replied, still holding his smile as the broadcaster began the next part.

“The decided battle, set forth by the illustrious Alpha Protocol Council, will be a focus on the use of Temporal energy! One of the newest discovered strands in the Multiverse!” He waited for the crowd to calm down before continuing, “Every word the Creators say, every move they make will be shown to you on the new Holographic projectors donated by the Lamda Council. Lamda, inventing better ways for all to live. Now, let us start the first round!”

Walker squared up his body before turning slightly, one leg in front of the other. Mirail’s hollow sound drifted back as the ground opened up yet again, a small box appearing before him. He clicked on the only button present, and a series of projections appeared, showing several options with notes attached to them, large bold writing splashed just above.

 

Choose your Summon!

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