Alphonse's consciousness stood tall amidst the grandeur of the Akashic expanse.
The floor beneath his feet stretched as clear as a mirror of water, reflecting a mesmerizing vista of star clusters and galaxies spinning slowly beneath him.
White pillars of light pierced the boundless void. Thousands of radiant books with golden covers fluttered and orbited the pillars like a school of fish in an ocean of knowledge.
At the center of the chamber, a colossal Cosmic Mandala rotated lazily, awaiting a decree.
Alphonse gazed at the Mandala and began dictating the parameters of the kingdom he required to build the foundation of his reign.
"Seek a human kingdom where the populace suffers from famine, yet possesses an abundance of natural resources," Alphonse commanded.
He then added his variables. "Military loyalty must be at its lowest point. And ensure... there is no local entity present possessing power above Level 100."
Receiving the mandate, the Cosmic Mandala spun faster. Thousands of luminous threads wove a highly detailed, three-dimensional projection in the air.
The projection split into two contrasting sides of life.
On one side, richly dressed nobles celebrated a wine banquet, broad smiles adorning their flushed faces.
On the other, the projection displayed the visages of commoners draped in tattered rags. Their emaciated bodies were nothing but skin and bones, fighting over worn wooden bowls containing nothing but watered-down wheat porridge.
The projected image then shifted, unfurling a breathtaking geographical landscape.
From a coastline with crashing white waves, the view swept across lowlands blanketed by a golden forest that swayed gently, resembling a sea of gold in the wind.
Right at its border stood a lush, verdant forest, revealing glimpses of a dense canopy and the shadows of various wild beasts inhabiting it.
The splendid landscape concluded with the majesty of a towering mountain, where crevices in its deep rocks radiated veins of glowing blue minerals.
At another point, the projection displayed utter rot. Within a fortress, soldiers in mismatched, filthy uniforms were seen carousing in broad daylight.
Finally, the projection revealed a middle-aged, gold-crowned king seated upon his throne. The king's eyes widened with greed, staring directly at a plump merchant adorned in lavish jewelry who was presenting a chest overflowing with gold coins.
[Riviera Kingdom]
Alphonse smirked faintly at the promising projection. "A kingdom bordered by the sea, boasting fertile lands, abundant natural resources, and a chaotic government. I like it."
Yet, the smile of satisfaction did not last. Alphonse took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling at a slightly faster tempo.
Beads of cold sweat began to form on the temples of his avatar projection, dripping down his chin. Utilizing the [Tier EX - Akashic Terminal] to filter an entire continent evidently drained a massive portion of his mana reserves.
Enduring the piercing ache blooming at the back of his head, Alphonse issued his final search instruction.
"Display the coordinates of the peripheral city where the populace endures the greatest suffering in that kingdom."
The Mandala spun once more, focusing the image on a muddy, squalid street. Numerous emaciated bodies lay lifeless in the corners of narrow alleys, left to rot in the open.
On the outskirts of that wretched city, there lay a deeply peculiar plantation area.
The trees bore golden leaves and produced pomegranate-like fruits that also glowed with a golden hue.
Ironically, people in ragged clothes were seen wrapping the lower halves of their faces in tattered cloth. With heavy steps, they were forced to water the trees using wooden barrels filled with blood.
Meanwhile, others used sticks to beat back swarms of insects to prevent them from ruining a single leaf.
The sweat and blood of the residents dripped, soaking the plantation soil, which, in stark contrast, looked incredibly fertile and prosperous.
[City of Deeproot - Coordinates: 103.378, 7]
Alphonse's eyelids snapped open. The pull of consciousness dragged him back into his physical body, which was leaning back in a chair within the inn chamber.
He immediately raised the sleeve of his robe, wiping the cold sweat drenching his forehead and neck.
Turning to Vrischil, who was waiting calmly at the table, Alphonse nodded.
"Target found," he said, his breathing rhythm beginning to stabilize. "Let us depart."
Vrischil rose from her chair with a graceful movement. Alphonse stepped toward the bed and lightly kicked the wooden leg of the mattress until it creaked.
"Are you coming or not, Arcus?"
Arcus immediately rolled over from his stomach. He slammed his palm against the mattress.
"We must at least do something to that bastard who stole my stage today!" Arcus demanded, his face sour and his brows knitted.
Alphonse covered part of his face with his hand, letting out a long sigh at his friend's stubborn behavior. "We shall merely appear before him briefly before leaving. Is that not enough to frighten him?"
Arcus crossed his arms over his chest, entirely unsatisfied with the half-hearted solution. "No! I want to strike him down at least once!"
"Denied," Alphonse cut in, his tone carrying the sharp edge of a leader who brooked no argument. "It is a waste of time and holds no meaning. We have an empire to build. Do not let your ego obstruct our plans."
Hearing Alphonse's firmness, Arcus's shoulders slumped. The man in the maroon suit clicked his tongue in annoyance and stood up.
"Tch, then you had better set a grand stage for me later," Arcus grumbled, demanding justice.
The afternoon wind swept through the cemetery, carrying with it a lingering air of sorrow. The breeze shook the branches of the oak trees, sending dried leaves drifting down to kiss the earth.
Amidst the rows of freshly dug graves, Li Bai stood as steadfast and unyielding as a stone statue.
The young man, clad in a Wuxia robe patterned with red clouds, crossed his arms, cradling a sheathed Jian sword against his chest.
He stood in silence, accompanying Aeliana, who was kneeling and sobbing uncontrollably before a simple wooden headstone that had just been planted.
Carved neatly into the wooden surface was a name: Lorien Caldwell.
The Elf girl traced the carved name on the wooden cross with violently trembling fingers.
"Captain..." Aeliana sobbed bitterly, her voice hoarse and quivering. "You promised me... you promised to take me out of the forest and travel this world together."
Tears fell, seeping into the grave dirt. "How could you leave me so soon? Did you not always tell me you were a strong adventurer? What am I supposed to do out there alone now...?"
Hearing the wails of despair, Li Bai gazed at the mound of dirt before him with an impassive expression.
"The weak die in regret, but the strong die leaving behind a legacy," Li Bai spoke, breaking the silence, his voice flowing calmly to wash over the Elf's sobs.
"The breath you take right now... is his greatest legacy."
Li Bai lowered his gaze, looking at Aeliana's trembling shoulders.
"No amount of tears will bring him back from beneath the earth," the swordsman continued. "But your two feet can still walk to carry his resolve. Do not let his tale of adventure end at this mound of dirt."
"Did your captain not promise to take you around the world? Then rise... and travel this world for him. I can accompany you."
Aeliana fell silent at the philosophy. She slowly turned her head to her right, staring at another headstone standing beside it. The grave bore the name Zareth Caldris.
"They all... died protecting me," Aeliana whispered softly.
The Elf girl bowed her head deeply. Slowly, her hands moved to grasp the grave dirt.
She clenched it so tightly that her knuckles turned white. The friction from the sharp pebbles tore at her palms, dripping fresh blood that merged with the earth.
Yet, she paid the stinging pain no mind. She was sick of feeling powerless. She hated being a burden whose cost was paid with the lives of those who showed her kindness.
"I do not want to see you die protecting me one day as well," Aeliana said, her voice now carrying a different cadence.
Hearing the concern, Li Bai smirked faintly—a condescending smile directed at the world itself. Within the depths of his mind, his arrogance as a Transmigrator spoke.
Die protecting you? What manner of jest is this. My power stands at the pinnacle of this world. With a drawn sword in my hand, who possesses the capability to threaten my life?
However, Li Bai masked his internal hubris. He replied with a serene tone.
"Protection is a necessity only for the weak. If you do not wish to be protected by anyone, then become strong and protect others. That choice is always open, and it rests in your hands."
Driven by a desperation that refused to remain a victim, Aeliana looked up at Li Bai. Her puffy emerald eyes now sparked with a newborn resolve.
"Mister Li Bai..." Aeliana pleaded, her raspy voice trembling. "Can you make me strong?"
Li Bai smirked with brimming confidence. "Naturally."
However, exactly one second after those words of affirmation left his lips, a lethal warning detonated inside the swordsman's head.
Li Bai's instincts suddenly screamed, warning him of a fatal danger. This was the first time he had felt a blood-freezing tremor of terror since arriving in this world.
SNAP!
A soft snap of fingers echoed from the sky above.
The townsfolk passing by in the distance, the guards, and even Aeliana nearby were completely oblivious to the subtle sound.
But to Li Bai's sharp hearing, it rang like a death knell. He felt as though he were being stared down by a pack of apex predators.
Li Bai looked up sharply at the sky. His eyes narrowed, piercing the layer of clouds.
There, hovering high in defiance of gravity, three mysterious figures gazed down at him.
In the center hovered a young man with pitch-black hair, clad in an elegant royal mantle. Above his open palm floated a pitch-black crystal that radiated the light of miniature stars, illuminating the space around it.
To his right hovered a silver-haired Elf in a deadly, asymmetrical combat suit. Her hand gripped a hilt without a blade, yet dozens of crystalline blade fragments could be seen orbiting around her.
To his left stood a young man with golden blonde hair, wearing a maroon suit. In his hand, a wooden bow carved with constellations was held casually.
The young man in the red suit, Arcus, stared at Li Bai from above the clouds as if looking at a tiny insect in the mud.
The Sagittarius made no cheap gestures. He did not raise his bow. He did not smile.
He simply scoffed softly, then deliberately unleashed a tiny fraction of his Killing Intent, locking it straight onto the swordsman.
The air around Li Bai suddenly felt immensely heavy, like the crushing pressure at the bottom of the ocean, forcing him to hold his breath reflexively.
He did not tremble in fear, but every muscle in his well-proportioned body locked rigidly, like forged steel pulled to its utmost limit.
The Jian sword in his arms hummed loudly in a high pitch. The blade vibrated violently within its scabbard, reacting to the lethal aura of threat from the sky.
Li Bai's pupils shrank sharply to the size of needlepoints. His brain worked at a frenzied pace.
He realized that a single wrong movement from him right now would instantly ignite a death match in this cemetery—one with no guarantee of victory.
Yet, the confrontation never occurred.
The mantled young man in the center snapped his fingers a second time.
A highly complex magic circle abruptly enveloped the three of them. In the blink of an eye, the trio vanished without a trace.
The invisible weight that had been crushing Li Bai's shoulders was instantly lifted. The air in the cemetery, previously thick and suffocating, flowed freely once more.
Li Bai let out a held breath. Cold sweat slowly dripped down his temples.
His eyes remained glued to the empty spot in the clouds where the three figures had been seconds ago. His mind began piecing together fragments of information from the game.
A black crystal radiating the light of a galaxy... Li Bai thought, matching the traits of the object with the entity that had just intimidated him.
"Mister Li Bai? What is it?" Aeliana asked in confusion, seeing her usually composed savior now frozen, staring at the empty clouds.
Completely ignoring the Elf girl's question, Li Bai muttered softly to himself. His voice no longer held a trace of arrogance; instead, it was brimming with high-level vigilance.
"That was... Stella Obscura," he murmured, piecing together the identities. "The King of Nexus, Sagittarius, Scorpio... The Pioneer Guild."
His arrogance from minutes prior—the conviction that he was the unrivaled, strongest entity on this continent—crumbled instantly into dust.
Li Bai tightened his grip on his sword hilt until his knuckles turned white.
"This world... is exceedingly dangerous."
In the eastern part of the main continent.
The light of teleportation magic slowly dimmed in the sky.
Alphonse, Vrischil, and Arcus appeared, hovering high above the land with their cloaks billowing in the wind.
A gust of humid air immediately slapped their faces, carrying a blend of earth and foliage scents.
From that altitude, the territory was laid bare beneath their feet. A city sat quietly amidst a vast, flat expanse, encircled by a belt of plantations that emitted a bizarre golden gleam.
Sweeping further outward from the golden expanse, a sea of trees from a dense green forest stood enclosing the territory like a natural fortress.
Far below their feet sprawled the City of Deeproot.
A peripheral city in a pitiable state. From above, the settlement looked filthy, built with chaotic urban planning, and plagued by suffocating poverty.
Alphonse closed his eyes for a moment. He took a deep breath, absorbing the air of the new locale.
He inhaled the scent of despair, the suffering of the people, and the rot of the bureaucratic system evaporating from the city below as if it were the most expensive, soothing perfume in the world.
An ambitious smile formed on his lips.
Alphonse opened his eyes, which flashed with a golden gleam. He spread his arms wide toward the land below, like a conductor preparing to lead an orchestra of ruin.
"A rotting city... a flawless stage," Alphonse declared, his voice echoing low, carried by the wind.
"The Riviera Kingdom, City of Deeproot. Let the flames of our revolution... begin here."