Sovereign of the Karmic System



"You go free." Roley said with a shrug of his shoulders. His arm rose up to his stomach as his hand lazily pointed at the depths of space. His fingers promised as big a chance of survival as his words had.

Around him, thousands of cultivators from the Immortal Armada had descended onto the planet-size platform, ready to spend the following minutes giving what they had hoped would be a brief yet satisfactory explanation, as well as an offer of temporary asylum.

The beautiful woman still trapped within her six transparent walls did not seem bothered by their actions, as the majority of her attention was fixated on the young man that stood in front of her. The remaining fraction of it had been aiding her in her constant struggle in preventing her blue eyes from darting up, where the gold bell had been floating undisturbed.

"Promises mean nothing among our kind." She scoffed. "Why should I trust you? I at least know you won't kill me as long as I do not help you."

Roley agreed with a nod. "That is true. Your kind is untrustworthy. I should know something about that." He muttered absentmindedly in a low yet clear tone. His memories of the Elementalist's betrayal, still fresh, played out in his mind. 

Few knew that, in the past two thousand years Roley had avoided human contact altogether. Sometimes for centuries at a time. Not out of choice, but as a consequence of the many times he had approached human civilizations alongside his inhuman companions. These civilizations would often welcome him and his followers with open arms, hiding their infinite greed behind friendly smiles. Encounters that would never end well. 

This lack of human contact had, eventually, led him to foolishly form a kinship with his oldest enemy. He would occasionally visit the elementalist with questions about mana, and control of the elements, hiding in a cold demeanor his true motive. To have what could pass as a human conversation. 

These talks, while usually hostile, would still satisfy his need for interaction-And while their conversations would always quickly remind him of the nature of the other party, sometimes, he could not help but think that maybe the Elementalist would not betray him, given a chance.

But, alas, he was wrong.

The actions of the champion of Destiny could not exactly be called a betrayal, but their memory were surely a reminder to Roley. A reminder that Iewah's spawn were not human. They were consciousnesses of pure selfishness and narcissism. Some more than others, but all of them nonetheless.

Soon the bitter memories dissipated, cast back to the deepest corners of his mind with a shrug of his shoulders. His lips moved, "But as you have said, I am not a member of your kind. I could have killed you at any point, but refused to, because it would put my people at risk. The objective that brought me here is ensuring the safety of my friends. Your presence here is useful, while your death brings me no benefit. Do what I say, and I won't need to kill you."

The woman's pale arms tightened around her stomach in a show of nervousness, but her heart rejoiced. Her eyes had caught sight of a storm of elementals, each of them either diving into the entrance of the archives, or coming out of it, carrying treasures and various resources.

All around them, the cultivators of the immortal armada had managed to bring a semblance of order to the chaotic crowd, earning enough trust to convince the still terrified creatures to cross the massive portals that would lead them to Roley's planet. A garden world of primordial elements that had once lacked shape, sound and a flow time, giving it a beautiful yet unrealistic look, like an abstract painting.

Now, thanks to the primordial treasure of spatial essence, this world possessed solidity. The trees were trees, the light shone warmly on the skin, and the earth could be stood on. The lack of sounds was somewhat concerning, but luckily, few paid it mind over the constant chatter that came from all directions.

Not all the recently freed devotees agreed, however. Some of the most capable cultivators, used to space travel, had graciously rejected the offer of asylum, choosing to take a risk with the dangers that they knew instead. None of those who chose to leave were stopped. After all, neither Roley nor Der owed them any further explanation or help. They were not the types to force help onto those who did not want it.

Back on the nearly evacuated platform, Roley waited for an answer. He could still see the doubt in the girl's eyes. Whether it was real or an act, it didn't matter. "I could let you out of there, as a show of trust." He added while taking a step forward, bringing his modest stature right up to the transparent wall. Close enough to, had there been no separation between them, smell each other's scent.

"You better." She retorted. "Because I won't be able to do what you want unless you let me out of here."

Roley's odd eyes narrowed gently as his lips curved into a satisfied smile. His left hand reached forward a few inches, coming in contact with the barrier only moments later. Upon touch, the barrier acted as a bubble, too feeble to bear touch, and exploded into shards of invisible glass. The young woman felt a faint sense of dizziness rise, as the little space that had surrounded her reattached itself into the rest of the universe, like the last piece of the puzzle a clumsy player was struggling to fit in place.

The dizziness lasted only a moment, after which the woman's senses immediately darted to the sky. She reached for the bell, solid and stable, hoping to reconnect with it and regain control of the situation, but she was soon disappointed. Her senses had crashed against a second wall, identical to the one that had kept her trapped.

"Oh, before I forget.." Roley said as his smile turned into a cocky grin. His outstretched hand rose up to his shoulder, index finger straightened and pointed up to the enormous golden bell, "I will keep your toy as collateral."

The woman's bright blue eyes shook in surprise. Her best attempts at not letting her fear show failed miserably, but thankfully, it did not seem that Roley had noticed her intentions. Roley could not have seen her will, and the connection she had tried to make with the bell could have easily been mistaken for her system automatically trying to reconnect with a lost part of itself. "He didn't notice. I should be safe." she told herself in an attempt to ease her mind.

"Will I get it back after I fulfill my end of the bargain?" she asked in a casual, almost disinterested manner while gently reaching for the inner part of her robe. Her slender fingers brushed against the upper part of the chest, then dove out of sight for a few moments. When they re-emerged, they were clasped onto a ring.

The ring was quite simple. It was made completely out of gold, lacking any form of inscription or precious gem. A wedding band, most would have categorized it as, if not for the presence of a thread of blood that ran in its middle. However, it was not the color of the thread that told Roley that it was true blood, but the fact that it flowed into its minuscule carved be, like a tiny river that went on and on in a never ending circle.

"What do you want to know?" The woman asked, more aloof than ever.

Roley did not bother to ask about the function of the ring, for he would probably find out soon enough. What he was most curious about was the nature of the blood it contained. Pure and of existential nature, but far too powerful to belong to the woman. "It must be Sacrifice's blood." Roley mumbled to himself in a low voice.

"Aren't you the curious type?" The woman said with a tinge of sarcasm.

Roley shook his head dismissively, ignoring the woman's taunt. "I need to know the location of my friends. They should be somewhere under the domain of Sacrifice." 

The woman's eyes rolled in their sockets in a show of annoyance. "Names." She demanded.

"Try Heimart." He said after a few moments, recalling the large and muscular youth who, at the time, had led their little group through an event for martial and spiritual cultivators, back in their planet of origin.

As he thought of those memories, he failed to notice the faint smile that had appeared on his face. A warm one, happy. In his mind, he was back to that small cabin. Heimart and Ligart bent over a small table. Playing cards were in their hands, and Ligart was losing. On the top bed of the furthest bunk, a child-sized bump of slowly moving sheets he had later learned was called Alis. Finally, the teenager with dark hair and darker eyes who sharpened his sword while occasionally peeking through the one porthole in their cabin.. Daniel.

He had always wished there had been a fifth bed for him in that cabin in the past, but unfortunately, he had been limited to being a frequent visitor from another part of the ship. How fun it would have been.

"No one with that name." The woman said decisively. Not loudly, but loud enough for Roley to wake up from his dreams.

"What does that mean?" He asked.

The woman shrugged. "Other than the person not being held prisoner within Sacrifice's domain? That he was not considered important enough for his existence to be kept track of, or that he is dead."

Dead. Never had that word sounded so bitter and hateful in his ears. "Try Ligart, or Alis." Roley said.

Once again, the woman brought the ring to her mouth, then whispered a few words into it. A ritual that Roley had been too distracted to notice the first time around.

The process took a few seconds, after which the woman, slightly confused, answered in a similar fashion. "None with those names either."

Roley was shocked. Sure, two thousand years had passed, but he knew those people. They were resourceful, and smart. Alis had always been quiet and observant, to a point where a simple look at her crew mates had been enough for her to pinpoint the most powerful cultivator, and despite his tendency of cheating his cousin Ligart out of victory in card games, Heimart was a born leader. Even without the help of many more experienced cultivators, how could they have died like that?

"They can't be dead. My system.." he muttered just before a loud banging sound overpowered his voice. White colored pebbles darted out of white dust, bouncing off of the loose robes of both Roley and the young woman.

"Try Mea'hor. Rulin is her last name." Der said with a deep and powerful voice that, this time, betrayed a hint of worry.

Roley had fallen quiet.

At the mention of the fourth name the young woman sent out another command into the ring, which this time, responded. *poof* A cartoonish cluster of dust exploded a few inches over the woman's palm. It drifted, and seeped into the creases of the woman's clothes the way dust does, soon revealing a simple notebook in black leather tied closed by a string of leather that, much like the ring, was marked by a small river of blood dug into its length.

The appearance of this notebook came as a surprise for the young woman. A feeling she wasn't able to hide before the two men could take notice of it.

"What is it?" Der asked.

"This is one of Sacrifice's personal notebooks. I am afraid it cannot be opened." She quickly explained. "Only another power of existence can open this seal.. one at least as powerful as that of Sacrifice himself, if you are not too picky with how much of its contents you care to preserve. A stronger one, if you want to play it safe."

Der took a step forward. His deep set eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Convenient." He growled. "And I presume you have no way to confirm this diary contains the information we are looking for."

"It does." Roley answered, dismissing his friend's suspicion. A confirmation that was aimed at reassuring his old friend, but that also informed the young woman that she had upheld her part of the bargain.

A stunning smile grew on her delicate face as she tossed the notebook in their direction while saying, "Well then. If you remove the barrier, I'll take my bell and leave." 

Roley did not bother to argue. His right hand instinctively reached for notebook, while his mind drew his innate power of immortality from the spatial barrier, releasing its grip onto the bell. "Get lost." He said as his fingers drew lines onto the river of blood. His immortal essence was gently released against it in an attempt to fight its flow, but only managing to slow it briefly.

Just as uninterested about her presence, Der turned to look at the notebook with an expression of longing.

It was then, as they shared a brief moment of accomplishment, that the two heard what was now a very familiar sound. *DONG*

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