Hell Difficulty Tutorial Chapter 599 – Freedom

All of us sit around one of my trademarked thermal cubes that, with the help of kinetic energy channeled through fine tuned internal spaces, emits a faint crackling noise, not unlike a campfire. The heat also fluctuates, radiating outward in waves similar to a real, crackling fire, rather than being a stable source of heat.

Tess lifts her eyes from the cards she is holding, “They really made collector cards for the higher ranked attendees.”

“Yup!” Dennis nods excitedly. “Aaron and I have probably the best collection out of Earth´s tutorial. We even have a shiny Noname!”

I lift my eyes off the orb I'm training with. Shiny what?

Dennis shows Tess the card, which features a drawn sketch of my face, which, for some reason, looks extremely punchable. The artist clearly has a talent for caricatures, since I'm pretty sure my face doesn't actually look like that.

Aside from that, beneath the face is a dense field of text, the same text I saw on my card earlier, with some new additions.

Even the alias "Noname" has been scratched out and replaced with the name Nathaniel Gwyn. The card itself is of much higher quality than the previous version. It’s been made from some sort of extremely light metal with edges and a back that shines with a golden, metallic finish.

I hate it.

Meanwhile, Dennis continues to blabber, “The creator apparently only had enough time to make five shiny Noname cards, so it's super rare! Besides that, I also got a Shiny Tacita and a Shiny Derick. Apart from that, I have all the normal ones for all the kings.”

“What?”

“Please never change. Anyway, I already heard a few things from the girls, but I will look over the cards, given that they seem to contain useful information. But… calling him a “Mana Daddy” might have been taking things a bit too far,” she giggles, “and what kind of "Note" is: ?”

“That one is very accurate!” Aaron quips, joining the conversation, “I heard the creator discussing it with a pair of experts from Hell difficulty.”

I turn away from the group and watch as Myrra begins to walk away from the group. She already said goodbye to everyone except one person, and now she’s just waiting for Lissandra to return and for this floor to end.

The sky is dark, but high up there, a pale blue color fluctuates through the sky, almost like polar lights. Once in a while, earthquakes tear through the ground, seeming to shake the planet to its core. There seems to be some sort of field protecting us, judging by the way entire mountains crumble and vegetation disappears under the influence of mana radiation mere miles from our position.

Holding Biscuit in my arms, I stand up and head towards Myrra.

As I walk, the corgi in my arms suddenly twitches and opens his eyes. Surprised by the unfamiliar surroundings, he startles and starts squirming to get out of my grip. Then he sniffs the arm I'm using to hold him. Almost instantly, he freezes, and I can practically see him processing the things he's smelling. After a moment, he closes his eyes again and goes still.

His breathing is different now, clearly showing he is awake and just pretending to sleep.

Damn it, Biscuit.

I don't say anything out loud and instead pull him closer to my chest, continuing to hold him while walking toward Myrra.

“Is this my goodbye gift?” she asks, glancing at Biscuit.

“Was the bag of deer jerky not enough?” I ask, and the two of us closely observe the corgi in my arms.

He twitches once, twice, and even his eyelids move as if he were about to open his eyes, and I sense the faintest attempt at telepathic communication, likely to call me an asshole or something worse. But in the end, he continues to pretend to be asleep.

While I watch her curiously swaying tail, I ask, “Listen, Myrra, among lynthari, what kind of gesture is pulling someone's tail, if you were to compare it to human customs?”

I don't tell her, but every time I see it, I get the feeling I need to pull on it. I think that's normal, totally normal. I just can't imagine anyone having a pet and not trying to pull its tail at least once. I pause my thoughts. Not that I think of Myrra as my pet, of course.

The tall lynthari tilts her head and smiles, “I think for a human it would be a gesture similar to this.”

She takes a step around me and then slaps my butt. It is a perfect slap that sends the sound throughout the area. For the briefest second, she leaves her hand on it and even gives it a squeeze before letting go and stepping back out in front of me.

There is no shame in her golden eyes.

“Did you just sexually harass me, Myrra?”

“Did I? Well, don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you look at my tail. But since we won’t be seeing each other for a few years, you can pull on it. I’ll allow it this time.”

“I’ve changed my mind.”

"It's for free."

"I'm not interested anymore."

“Come on, feral one.”

"I'm getting scared, please stop."

She laughs in her typical way, and I can tell she’s in a good mood by the way her fangs make themselves known in her smile.

But then a notification pops up to interrupt us.

Alert: Narrative irregularity confirmed. Progression has deviated from the floor’s designated parameters. Escalation exceeds acceptable thresholds.

The current scenario is no longer compatible with the floor’s intended structure. Recorded wave completions have surpassed all historical data. The competition rate exceeds statistical maximums. The floor has been cleared with total efficiency, exceeding the expected range of outcomes.

All Rulers assigned to this cycle of the tutorials have been notified.

Unregistered influence has been identified. Identity does not correspond to any system-approved entity. No matching designations found across current or archived cycles. Origin point obscured. Interference traces persistent across multiple sectors. Behavioral pattern inconsistent with allowable roles.

Primary reward output has been adjusted and significantly reduced.

Additional interference detected. Initiating further reward reduction sequence.

Unauthorized entity presence is confirmed. Trace patterns do not match any known or permitted variables.

Administrative Rulers have been notified.

Automatic response protocols have been initiated. A containment model is being generated. Observation priority elevated. System integrity remains intact. The current result has introduced instability into the cycle's progression metrics. An internal audit has been scheduled.

All further actions subject to direct Ruler oversight.

Notice: Despite irregularities, the main quest objectives for Floor 7 have been fulfilled. Completion is officially recognized.

Even more notifications appear after that, all in the same manner, which shows how crazy and unexpected it would be for an attendee to kill an Absolute. More checks run, and afterwards, even more appear. As if the tutorial system itself were confused by Lissandra. That also clearly confirms the things she’s told me before. It really does seem that her time is ticking away.

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Part of me wonders why she even bothered, knowing what would happen, but as I glance at the rewards, I think I understand.

The rewards are incredible. Even after all those reductions, they're still way too good. It’s probably her idea of a parting gift, maybe even a kind of apology. It’s strange because I’m sure she would still have killed anyone from group 4 if she thought she had to. I’m sure she would have let Tess die, just like she clearly told me before.

Maybe this is just how people work.

Another notification pops up.

Congratulations! You've successfully completed the 7th floor's main quest. An entrance to the eighth floor has been created.

The entrance appears, and behind it lies a grand room, lit by soft, diffused light reflecting off polished marble floors and high, mirrored ceilings. Every surface is covered in detail, the walls are lined with velvet drapes, and carved columns are lined in gold, and chandeliers hang from the ceiling, heavy with crystal.

Inscriptions run across the many surfaces in the space. The walls, the windows. The furniture itself is oversized and sculpted, lacquered and cushioned in rich fabrics. Tables hold decorative pieces with no clear function: vases, jeweled relics, and small statues carved from gemstone. Each item is expensive if only for the sake of being expensive.

“I have to go now, feral one,” Myrra says to me, and I follow her gaze to where Lissandra has appeared and is standing, waiting.

Before Myrra can walk away, I call, “It would suck if you just died now.”

She stops for a moment and looks at me, “See you later, Nathaniel.”

I nod, “See you later.”

I then sense Biscuit connecting with her and also sending a message, which makes her chuckle for a moment. With a few nimble steps, she reaches Lissandra and puts her hand on the silver-haired woman's shoulder.

The Absolute doesn't even look my way anymore, and both of them disappear, entering Beyond.

I turn away to group 4, who are already beginning to stand. The barrier Lissandra has put around the area starts crumbling, and the mana radiation that fills the continent, or perhaps even the rest of the planet, begins seeping through.

Looking at me, Tess nods, and together with everyone else, she steps through the portal. Then I do the same and find myself in the same room I observed through it.

Just before I take a moment to reread the notification.

Welcome to the 8th floor: The Academy

For completing the 7th floor, you have acquired:

What incredibly ridiculous rewards. I wonder what they would’ve been like if we had managed to kill an Absolute on our own and the rewards hadn’t been reduced.

After confirming that everyone’s here and that we’re currently alone in the room, I open up the new floor quest. I'm eager to see what this floor, called The Academy, contains.

Floor Quest:

Locate and protect the Ruler Candidate

Rewards:

POV Warden of the Parallax Eyes, Kyralon

One of the oldest velnar in the system straightens without warning. His black eyes, shimmering with starlight, drift across unseen paths as he rises from the low table. Passing by, he selects a single oval-shaped mana stone from the countless others arranged on the shelves and walks toward the balcony.

There, he sits in his chair, as the mana stone in his hand unfolds, expanding into the shape of a transparent blue book. He reaches into a hidden pouch with the faint symbol of a black palm on its side, and draws out a wooden pen that otherwise looks entirely mundane.

If any knowledgeable Absolute were to see it, they would recognize it instantly. They would realize that it’s been made from wood of a remarkable tree that no longer exists. The pen itself holds enough value to be traded for a smaller planet.

Kyralon comes to a halt. A layered field unfolds around him, enhancing the precision of his trait. His gaze remains fixed on the sky above.

Then he begins to write.

At that moment, Kyralon pauses. The pen nearly slips from his fingers. A flicker of shock crosses his face. His eyes remain wide as they stare into what to everyone else would only be a starry sky.

Then he begins to write again.

Kyralon looks to the sky once more. The anger surfaces. For a moment, it seems like he may stop writing entirely, but in the end, he continues with a clenched hand.