Previously on My attributes are increasing infinitely...
Ethan, a clone of the main body, arrives at Gateway Station and reconnects with his main body through a dimensional link. They discuss their plans to grow stronger, find their imprisoned family, and kill the children of the god clan for practice. The clone is tasked with exploring the battlefield while the main body grinds levels. Ethan also encounters Erina, who doesn't remember him but feels a strange familiarity. Team Ragnarok assigns the clone to a supply route, but he insists he can be ready for combat in a week.
A level 2 monster met a messy end.
Ethan’s primary form stood over the fallen beast, a knife slick with dark ichor in his grip. The creature had been hideous, a mass of teeth, claws, and raw hunger, yet its movements were sluggish and hampered.
[Level 2 Monster Eliminated
Points Gained: 10]
Ten points. He had earned thirty for similar kills when he was level 1. This decrease should have been a source of vexation.
However, Ethan merely wiped his blade clean on the monster’s carcass and straightened up.
He had secured his initial points.
[Name: Ethan Hunt
Level: 2
Evolution Points: 10/15000]
If he remained idle, it would take eleven days to advance to the next stage. But the founder would continue to dispatch monsters his way, accelerating his progression.
---
Within the world designated as the battlefield, Ethan’s clone took a position at the periphery of the supply depot, observing the fiery spectacle on the horizon.
Artillery barrages illuminated the distant tree line with intermittent flashes. Somewhere in that inferno, Max was directing Team Ragnarok through another engagement. Erina was at his side, her silver hair likely matted with mud and blood by now, her rifle unleashing a torrent of death upon any adversary that ventured too near.
The clone’s hands clenched the railing of the observation platform, his knuckles turning white.
"I must grow stronger, swiftly."
This mantra had been his constant companion since his arrival. Yet, prudence had tempered his actions. A sudden disappearance into a temporal acceleration field might attract the attention of the god clan’s observers.
They might demand an accounting.
But the battlefield showed no regard for caution. Monsters were oblivious to stealth. And Ethan’s kin were out there, scattered across this world like windblown seeds, awaiting discovery.
"I am still merely level one," his main body had stated. "We have time."
Time.
Did they truly possess it?
Each passing day allowed the younger prodigies of the god clan to hone their strength. Each hour meant his family remained ensnared in bodies that held no memory of their true selves, living existences that were not their own.
The clone reached into his internal dimension, feeling the cool surface of the space cube.
This device, capable of manipulating time itself, could compress centuries into mere heartbeats. His primary self had entrusted it to him before venturing into Elysium, uncertain of the castle’s hidden depths. Now, his primary self desired its return, but only after the clone had utilized its power.
"Five hours," the clone murmured. "That is all I require."
Five hours in the external world. Within the cube, with the temporal field operating at maximum acceleration, five hours would transform into
He performed the calculation.
A millionfold acceleration. Five hours of external time equated to five million hours internally.
Five million hours.
Divided by the twenty-four hours in a day.
Divided by the three hundred sixty-five days in a year.
Five hundred seventy years.
Nearly six centuries of isolated training, condensed into a single afternoon on the battlefield.
The clone’s heart pounded against his ribs. Five hundred seventy years of solitude would render him invincible in this realm. It would fundamentally alter him, reshaping him into something utterly unrecognizable.
But that was the objective.
He cast one final glance at the horizon, witnessing the distant flashes of combat. He pictured Erina fighting desperately for her life while he remained here, inert with apprehension.
"No more delays."
He turned, departing the observation platform and navigating the station’s corridors until he discovered an unused cargo bay. The space was sufficiently vast, adequately concealed. No surveillance, no witnesses.
He activated the space cube.
The world dissolved around him.
---
Five hours later
The clone emerged from the space cube, stepping back into the cargo bay.
For him, five hundred seventy years had elapsed. For the station, merely five hours had passed. The artificial lighting still hummed. Faint echoes of combat still resonated through the corridors.
But every other aspect had undergone a profound transformation.
He examined his hands, beholding flesh that had been reforged countless times. He observed his reflection in the polished walls of the cargo bay, discerning eyes that had borne witness to centuries of solitude.
The system displayed his newly acquired attributes:
[Master: Ethan Hunt]
Physique: Primordial
Spirit: Primordial
Talent: Infinite Comprehension]
No numerical values. No levels. Such rudimentary metrics were no longer necessary.
He now occupied the apex of this world’s hierarchy.
"I trust that once I conclude this world's assignment, the main body will attain level one hundred through the cube's use," the clone mused.
With that thought, he turned and proceeded toward the battlefield.
---
The Front Line
The conflict was unfolding unfavorably.
Ethan’s clone reached the edge of the combat zone and perceived everything with absolute clarity. Not merely the surface-level details—the charging monsters, the firing soldiers, the bodies strewn across the blood-soaked earth—but also the underlying currents of power dictating the engagement's flow.
The monstrous entities were creatures of star-tier, each possessing the might to rip apart a squad of regular soldiers. Facing them, the human defenders found themselves outnumbered three to one, their ammunition dwindling critically, their courage beginning to fracture.
Max held the pivotal center of the battle line, his formidable energy techniques blazing as he severed the lives of monster after monster. Yet, even his strength was starting to wane. Blood trickled from a fresh gash upon his brow. The earlier precision in his movements had visibly diminished.
Mira fought valiantly at his side, her twin daggers a blur of motion, but her left arm hung in a deeply unnatural, broken angle.
Kael had been forced back to the stacks of supply crates, his heavy weapon unleashing desperate, sporadic bursts. Dorian's whereabouts were unknown; he might have met his end, or perhaps he was simply concealed.
And Erina.
Ethan’s clone located her at the furthest extremity of their defensive line, grievously surrounded by three monsters that had successfully breached the perimeter. Her rifle emitted a final, empty click. She swiftly drew her sidearm and fired, felling one attacker, yet the remaining two pressed relentlessly onward.
Her demise seemed imminent.
The clone advanced a single, deliberate step.
The entire battlefield became suddenly, utterly still.
Not a mere slowing, nor a temporal stasis effect as sometimes achieved through time manipulation. It was a complete cessation. Every monster, every soldier, every single falling leaf and spiraling bullet hung suspended in mid-air, as though the very fabric of the universe had commanded a pause.
Ethan’s clone traversed the frozen tableau of chaos, his hands clasped behind his back. His footsteps produced no sound. His mere presence failed to disturb the profound stillness.
He reached the very heart of the battlefield and halted.
His gaze swept over the multitude of monsters, numbering in the thousands, each caught mid-lunge, their claws extended, their rows of teeth bared in silent snarls. They were beings forged for slaughter, engineered for war, imbued with potent dark energies.
In this moment, they amounted to nothing.
The clone took a second step forward.
Every single monster across the entire battlefield disintegrated into ethereal cosmic particles.
They did not explode; they were not incinerated. Their forms simply unraveled, separating into their constituent atoms, then further resolving into the fundamental particles that form all existence, and then dissolving into utter non-existence.
No screams were uttered. No pain was felt. They simply ceased to be.
The assembled soldiers could only stare at the empty space where their terrifying enemies had been moments before. Weapons slipped from slackened fingers. Mouths hung open in disbelief. Eyes widened in pure astonishment.
Max stood rooted, the energy technique still wreathed around his clenched fist, his intended target completely vanished. He frantically looked around, desperate to comprehend the impossible event that had just transpired.
"Did anyone see..." he stammered, his voice rough.
No one had.
Mira was tending to her fractured arm, her face rendered ashen with shock. Kael had ceased firing, his heavy weapon emitting wisps of smoke in the abrupt, deafening silence. And Erina...
Erina remained at the line's edge, her empty sidearm still pointed forward, her silvery hair disheveled and framing her stunned expression. She had been mere inches from death. She had foreseen her end, had resigned herself to it, had squeezed the trigger knowing it would be insufficient.
And then, abruptly, the monsters were gone.
"What..." she breathed, a whisper of utter bewilderment. "What just happened?"
Ethan’s clone observed from the fringe of the tree line, maintaining his guise as an errand boy, still appearing as no more than a terrified civilian who had stumbled into a war zone.
He offered a slight shake of his head, a faint smile playing on his lips.
Not yet, he mused internally. It is not time for my unveiling. It is not time to reveal that I have spent five centuries ascending to divinity while you have fought for your lives for merely five hours.
