Sovereign of the Karmic System

Chapter 643 By The Skin Of His Teeth

The body of the Golden Peak Mountain sect's patriarch was in pieces. His broken limbs barely hanging by the most obstinate bounds of muscle, while the deep gashes that covered his skin leaked copious amounts of blackened blood and foreign immortal essences. The complete lack of strength had left his mouth agape, and his eyes devoid of focus.

All he could distinguish from that which lay in front of him, was the gradual disappearance of the elemental nebula, as well as the presence of a familiar silhouette.

Within the now broken core of the elemental formation, Roley stood still. On his left shoulder the cold and heavy feeling of his companion's gauntlet had awakened him from the rage which had fueled the recent onslaught.

"Wait, stop." Der's words were barely more than a whisper, and yet they resounded cleanly, for the hell Roley had unleashed, other than lacking the solidity of space and the flow of time, also lacked the essence of sound.

As the ray of light and elemental nebula dissipated, the figure of two individuals became clear in Roley's eyes. One resembling a human, while the other not so much. The latter, of course, belonged to the mangled and broken body of the sect's patriarch, now busy with gathering as many last breaths as he could muster, while the former, belonged to a woman who appeared to be in her late thirties.

This woman, kind in appearance yet serious and professional, stood quietly in front of the hurt giant, as if shielding him from the attack. "She isn't one of them." Der claimed before quietly floating past his companion, and towards the now visibly relieved woman.

Der's eyes had not failed him. The woman, who now looked as if she had escaped a close encounter with death, was brushing her long red hair nervously, combing them past her bosom and in front of a fitting white and gold tunic. Her heartbeat was irregular, a detail that could not escape the developed ears of cultivators.

Despite her disheveled and anxious appearance, the woman was extremely powerful. So much so that her immortal essence carried the same weight as that of the Golden Peak Mountain sect's patriarch. While seemingly as powerful, however, she lacks any semblance of martial prowess, and gave the impression that her cultivation was purely aimed at prolonging her life, rather than increase her strength.

After a few long seconds, the woman managed to regain her composure. From her hidden left hand she secretly released a thread of pure white power which quietly burrowed into the deepest of the patriarch's wounds. At the same time, a silvery voice emerged from in between her pair of purplish lips.

"I am Sonya, the head merchant of the Prism Utopia." She introduced herself with an elegant courtesy bow.

At the mention of the Prism Utopia, Roley relaxed. He had once encountered a member of such a faction, an old and jovial traveling merchant who, after learning of his mission to create a safe living conditions for the elementals, had decided to immediately stop his dealings in blood treasures, name which was used to indicate essence treasures that were not gathered, but obtained through the extermination of living elementals. He had also promised that, after his return home, he would push a motion to his association for the ban of purchase and sale of this type of relics.

While this had happened centuries ago, the memory of that encounter was still vivid in Roley's mind, for it was one of the very few times when his desire to save the race of the elementals had not been mocked, but encouraged. It was truly out of luck that Der had stopped him, for he would have detested the idea of hurting the man's associates by mistake.

Der immediately noticed the change in Roley's behavior-A change which he could not explain, so he decided to maintain his careful and attentive attitude. "A pleasure to meet you, lady Sonya." He responded while bowing faintly in response, "May we know why you are interfering?"

The questioning did not catch the woman by surprise, for she had already had an answer prepared. "Many lives were taken here, today. I simply believe there has been enough death.. The day is already yours."

"Woman, move over.." A grave tone resounded from behind her as an enormous hand landed against her side, and pushed her away. The hand belonged to the patriarch who, after receiving the lady's healing grace, had managed to recover his enormous humanoid figure.

*SPA* The woman's hand flung to her side, and landed onto the back of the large burly hand with a crisp slap. "Be quiet Nathan, you have done enough damage!" She said in what looked like an anger that was uncharacteristic of her appearance. An anger that, in truth, was motherly in nature, for she looked more like a mother apologizing for her child's naughty behavior, rather than a warrior ready to fight to the death to save her companion.

Feeling this faint slap land onto his hand, the large man felt ashamed. It wasn't often that a powerful warrior such as him would need to be defended.. And yet, knowing the woman's character, he was not surprised.

The Prism Utopia was one of the independent factions that lived within the shared universes, and that like the Golden Peak Mountain sect, worked alongside the other factions to maintain a balance of existential powers in hope to avoid that one would gain higher influence over another. That was how they had maintained this universe free from domains or their masters.

While the two powers were similar in importance, however, their nature could not be more different, as while the sect's ultimate goal was to maintain a stable production of the powers of war, death and authority, the Prism Utopia had the task to uphold different powers of a more peaceful nature.

For that reason, these two factions worked together more closely than others.

Der and Roley were unbothered by the woman's appearance. After all, she was not an enemy. However, they still had a goal to achieve. "That man tried to enslave my people, and demanded for the elementals under his command to be handed over for use, like cheap items. Give us a good reason to stop now." Der said, growing increasingly angrier the more he spoke.

The woman's eyes softened. Her disappointed expression was poking holes at the wounded large man, and yet, she did not admonish him. She knew what his role was within this universe. It was not one he was happy to do, but one that he was required to fulfill.

"We need him." She responded with her silvery voice. "Without him, the other powers would be forced to put an end to their work, at least until a new power similar to the Golden Peak Mountain sect arises.. And by that point, the influence of aspects that go beyond the control of mortals will have taken over the universe, and we will all lose our home."

"I ask you again.. Seize the victory, claim your prize, and please, leave this universe. This much damage the other groups can handle, but his death will cause damage beyond repair to us, more than him."

As she finished speaking, Der and Roley felt the presence of several more entities, each as powerful as the patriarch and the head merchant of the Prism Utopia, appear in the distance. They were staring from a distance, unwilling to take part in the confrontation but ready to, for if the woman's request was refused, they would have no choice.

Der looked around with alertness. He did not feel threatened by the presence of so many powerful warriors, after all, the most violent of them was already out of commission. He was ready to join the battle at any moment, and yet, he let Roley decide. After all, he was the one who had been offended the most, and if he decided to outright kill the sect leader, he would support him in his decision.

When he turned to look at Roley, however, Der noticed that the hostility had abandoned his face. In its place there was a sympathetic expression, with a hint of cordiality to match.

"Is old Khan still a member of your faction?" Roley asked with audible expectations.

The mention of this name left the woman dumbfounded. "I haven't thought of that name in.. quite a long time." She muttered to herself as she delved into a pensive state of mind. One from which she awoke soon after, "How do you know that name?"

"I met him before, not too long ago.. He-" Roley's lips curved into a kind smile as he recounted the time his army, and the old man had crossed paths. "..he made me that promise, then we said our goodbyes. I was wondering if he is still wandering the multiverse, or if he has retired, and come back home."

Hearing the brief story brought tears to the woman's eyes, which she immediately caught with her baggy sleeves before they could ruin her make-up. "Mhh.. The man you met was my grandfather.." She said with a short-lived sense of pride, soon to be replaced by a hint of sadness. "Unfortunately, he passed away a few decades back. He wandered too close to the domain of Horror, and did not survive."

"Oh.." Roley muttered in response. He still remembered that jovial old man, and how sympathetic he had been to his cause. They had only traveled together for a few weeks, but he was still someone he had come to consider a friend. To know that he had died, possibly of an unspeakable death, was nothing but depressing news.

As Roley delved into this moment of sadness, however, the woman's voice resounded in his ears once more time, now filled with newfound pride and fondness. "He never forgot that promise. He came back one day, and gave all our high merchants an earful about how dealing in the corpses of elementals did not fit the nature of our organization. It was out of the blue, but he was so passionate about it…"

Hearing this brought a smile to Roley's face. A smile that stayed for only a few moments, after which his inhuman eyes once again landed on the figure of the sect's patriarch. "Alright. We will let him live." He said while staring at the man. "Give me what I have asked."

The man let out a deep sigh. He had no intention of arguing, he was only glad that the monster he had tried to fight had chosen to spare not only himself, but the surviving members of his faction, as well as the goals and efforts of an entire universe.

Without saying a word, the man opened his palm, on top of which was a drop of crystalized blood. "Thoren, eighty-fourth in line for the patriarch position, and my great grandson. This will bring you to him." He said before retracting his hand, and leaving the reddish crystal to float in space. As the small item took off in Roley's direction, he added, "If possible, do not kill him.. I gave him no reason to want to come back, so I would like to do something right for him."

Roley did not answer. He cared little for the man, and even less for his offspring, whom he knew to have become part of Sacrifice's domain. All he cared about was repaying a favor, and leaving this universe.. To find friends he cared for much more than the old merchant, and whom he had not seen for a much longer time.

As Roley turned to leave, leaving behind relieved faces and calmer spirits, he gave a nod to his armored companion, who responded by picking a bead out of one of his armor's many hidden pockets. The bead was casually thrown towards the woman, alongside a few words, "These are the schematics of our formation. I trust that with your connections you'll eventually be able to set it in place. By then, you won't need to have factions of death and war within your universe."

After leaving these few words behind, Roley and Der turned into flashes of light, and in a moment, they disappeared.