The New World - Chapter 370: Words Uttered, Laws Made

A dark blue aura enveloped the room, saturating everything.

“When you signed that contract with Shalahora, you sold your soul to an Old One.”

The emanation pulled me down as Schema said, “I will give you this opportunity out of grace. Answer me.”

Schema’s voice hardened.

“Why shouldn’t I kill you?”

I smiled, “Can you?”

I pressed out with my dimensional wake, pushing Schema’s aura back.

“I will warp you into the center of a black hole where time will be stretched to infinity. It is a kind of death and easily done.”

I stood tall.

“Alright, enough messing around then.”

I cracked my knuckles, each pop like a grenade detonating in mercury.

“I’m probably harder to break than you imagine. Try me.”

“Do you believe your status and skills will save you from an inevitable failure? Do you think your success in a fistfight can determine the outcome of the Old Ones? You are a fool. A prideful, arrogant, and ignorant fool.”

“Try me.”

Schema’s voice oppressed the room but not me.

“Then you will be taught a lesson. Dwell on it for eternity.”

The tugging sensation passed over me. My surroundings blurred before I let go of my physical form. It fell into some unknown place, likely Leviathan or some other blackhole.

Schema murmured, “It is a shame.”

I materialized from the ether.

“It is?”

I stood the way I had before my body was sent away. Schema and I faced off for a moment.

The AI said, “You have learned incorporeal recomposition. Was that learned before the lottery as well?”

I pointed a thumb at myself, “Schema…I’m not the same scared boy that escaped from Bloodhollow. I’ve changed.”

“That is evident.”

“But not with how you’re treating me. Yeah, I signed that contract with Shalahora. You wanna know why?”

I scowled as Schema’s aura pressed from all angles. I pushed it further back.

“I signed it for survival and because I know what’s coming. If anyone else knows, it’s you. You’re holding an entire society together. Of course, you know they’re coming. If I survive for 30,000 years, I think I stand a chance to pull us the hell out of this situation. If I can’t by then, I won’t be able to. Ever.”

“The Old Ones cannot be destroyed. You have given them another powerful avatar. 30,000 years may seem like an eternity to you, but it is a moment to them. It is a moment to me.”

I narrowed my eyes.

“And I was told that Yawm couldn’t be killed. That Lehsion was an unconquerable god. Hell, people told me Valgus was invincible because an Old One made it so.”

I grimaced.

“I killed him. I can kill them too.”

Schema’s aura maintained its pressure, pushing onto mine. I peered around.

“If you’re going to oppress someone, you must condense this. It’s too disparate. I’m like a ball of iron in an ocean. Wrap around me all you want; it won’t make me budge.”

Schema ceased applying pressure.

“You genuinely believe in your chances?”

“Believe? Who cares what I believe? What other options do I have?”

“Hm. None. A position I understand all too well.”

A screen notification appeared in the corner of my vision.

“I will send the purging team to Mt. Verner to inspect your personnel. Leviathan-7 is your planet, and you will be granted 3 days of uncompressed time to go there, 4 months total of your planet’s time yearly. I will personally ensure future system bugs are no longer an issue for you.”

I put my hands on my hips.

“Ah man, thanks-”

“I am not finished, Harbinger. You will be rewarded with 5,000 levels to your cap and current total. You will be granted a legendary skill compendium and sovereignty over the Solus solar system. Your guild, the Harbinger’s Legion, has been elevated to empire status and gains the rights of such.”

I nearly fell back.

“Do not disappoint me.”

I collected myself and spread my hands.

“Of course not. You know me. I’ve got no problem with a little overtime.”

“That will be the minimum. I anticipate your progress. However, there is one last condition you must accept.”

“Oh, come on now. What does it involve this time?”

“You have shown a willingness to sign contracts that warp the fabric of reality. Here is another.”

In front of me, a black page burned into existence, along with a quill floating with white ink.

“Read the cipheric contract and sign it.”

I pulled the page out of the air, reading the cipheric runes. It took about an hour to parse the legal jargon, but Targask’s lessons on legal mumbo jumbo saved me. I could almost see the guy grinning at me with satisfaction, and that burned. I shook that off before peering up.

“So you want me to sign a self-expungement clause under certain conditions?”

“Yes. It is the only way I can be certain.”

I shook my head.

“This is ridiculous.”

I signed the contract, and it disappeared.

Schema said, “If you believe it is absurd, why did you sign it?”

I rolled my shoulders.

“I’m no pawn. I’d rather die.”

“Hm. Noble. Good luck with your cosmic goals, Harbinger.”

I grinned.

“Hah. Same to you.”

A similar sensation of being warped pressed over me, but I condensed my wake to its utmost, slowing down the pull.

“Naw, you’ll need to have a Sentinel or Overseer warp me from now on. I want to see where I’m going.”

I could almost hear a laugh.

“Such is to be expected after my threats. Maintain that vigilance, would you?”

I smiled.

“Of course.”

A few seconds later, a Sentinel tore through the fabric of reality. I helped pull apart the dimensional fabric, and it stepped through. It tilted its head at me.

“You wish to return to Earth, correct?”

I nodded.

“Aw man, more than anything.”

The Sentinel sliced through the veil, and I approached a tiny circle showing Earth. I gazed down at Mt. Verner before I gave the Sentinel a two-finger salute.

“Till next time.”