Unbound

The Second through Fourth Layer proved no more challenging than the First. Felix tore through them with little effort—it had barely been more than a half hour since they had started. What’s more, there had been zero movement within his Sonata of Dominance. The Skill still stubbornly remained at level 124.

He and his friends had descended down the path, winding deeper into Mount Kestral with every step. Now they rested within another ward, Nymean statues upright and on guard. None of the Kept had managed to breach the ancient defenses, though that was mostly due to how few ever managed to escape Felix’s attention. Atar and Darius had been forced to employ a few attacks, but mostly they were silent watchers.

Mostly.

“How long is this going to take?” Atar muttered.

“Just be glad it’s going so fast.” Tern was seated, his notebooks spread out around him and his glowing, magic quill scratching out diagrams. “I’ve counted at least a dozen Tier VII monstrosities in that last Layer. I’d say I’m surprised he’s still able to fight at all, but the man did slay a goddess.”

Felix suspected they knew he could hear them, but that didn’t stop the whispering. He ignored them, anyway, and checked his core space once again.

Huh. He paused in surprise. So much.

Within him, Essence, Mana, and significance was packed tight within the bounds of his root-lattice. Though neither Hunger nor the Beast had yet stirred, Felix was leery about sending any of his potency into the dark abyss at his center. He feared strengthening it until he’d settled his Grandmaster Tier—and even then, he hesitated.

For now, his power was hung from the branches of his Divine Tree, filling it up like a dense canopy of leaves. It resembled nothing so much as an earthbound nebula, as ephemeral and colorful as a rainbow set with glittering stars. The results of all the Layers were there, shining within him, while his Sonata of Dominance hummed on down below. Unchanged, but perhaps not for long.