Taming the Protagonist

Volume 3

Chapter 13 : The Possibility of Truly God-Slaying

Anselm stood on a small hill, gazing at the boundless barren land, while also taking in the gathered adventurers in his view.

This was a wasteland about four kilometers away from Strife Fortress, still classifiable within the territory of Strife Fortress, and the reason Anselm came here was naturally the same as the reason the adventurers gathered here—a gate to the Zero Point Labyrinth was about to open.

The method to stably locate the entrances to the Zero Point Labyrinth had been developed as early as the Celestial Conquest Dynasty era.

Although not one in ten thousand of the Celestial Conquest Dynasty’s legacy survived after the Great Destruction, as time progressed, new positioning methods were also gradually perfected.

Except for those Labyrinth gates that were extremely random, opened for a very short time, and from which one could basically never return once entered, most gates could be confirmed three to five days in advance.

Adventurers would make corresponding preparations during this time, step into that infinite world, and risk the danger of being eternally lost to seek the possibility of going further.

Originally, according to the plan, Anselm should have already started preparing for the taming work targeting the remaining two protagonists.

But now, he had to focus his energy on another ambush that fate might have buried.

“Ivora, Ephithand...”

The young man, holding the sword hilt with one hand, murmured softly: “What exactly... is your function at your fingertips?”

Setting aside Ephithand who was extremely likely thrown into the Lost Sea, if Ivora, who was currently extremely likely to be the cause of the frequent opening of Labyrinth gates in the West Kingdom recently, really did not die, then how did she survive?

Fate, which pursued rationality, would not give the protagonists invincible blessings, nor would it drop a meteorite to crush Anselm, the biggest distortion point, to death.

Ivora, who did not occupy a major position in this story, was of course even less likely to be treated specially.

Then how exactly did she escape from Ephithand’s eternal burning?

Fate insisted on her survival; what did it intend to use her for?

The ether fluctuations on the vast wasteland became extremely violent and berserk without warning, just like a calm sea surface originally without ripples instantly stirring up waves ten thousand feet high in the next second.

“Advancing to this time, many things have become unrecognizable.”

Anselm sighed lightly, staring at the distorted space in the distance that began to twist violently, swallowing even the air and light, and his figure flickered forward.

The reason he had set that plan back then, besides possessing absolute dominance after becoming Tier 6, had a more important point—or rather, the matter of “hoping to possess absolute dominance” itself had this reason as its starting point.

That was, when Anselm’s protagonist's taming plan developed to this stage, the information of the predetermined future would have little value to him.

The future he was going to was already a mist; he must possess stronger power to confront fate. Although in the end, Anselm still lost the best opportunity.

But he did not regret it, only occasionally lamenting the irreversibility of fate.

Now, a new chess game was placed before Anselm’s eyes again.

Unlike before, he knew nothing about fate’s chess moves.

If the previous games were all strangling struggles with absolute preparation, then what Anselm could do now... was only to purely counter moves as they came.

Between a few flashes, Anselm had already arrived at the rear of the gathered adventurers.

He stared at the increasingly expanding twisted space, preparing to go to a certain place in the Labyrinth led to by this gate to search for Ivora’s traces.

According to Anselm’s deduction, after escaping into the Zero Point Labyrinth, Ivora might be unable to control her own power due to heavy injuries or other reasons.

She wanted to return to the primitive plane but had no way to stably prop open a gate, which led to the high-frequency opening of unstable Labyrinth gates.

With the gradual stabilization of the distortion, the space that seemed to be stripped from this world gradually formed a giant slit like a vertical pupil.

The adventurer closest to the entrance first threw something inside very cautiously, and after five minutes passed, he began to signal other adventurers to step into the crack.

And Anselm, who leisurely followed behind them, was stopped by someone before he had taken a few steps.

“Unfamiliar face.”

The man who stopped Anselm raised his eyebrows: “Exploration permit, bring it here.”

Adventurers had long had a very perfect exploration system—if it was a Labyrinth gate that had not been discovered and circled by any force in advance, then how much one could take, and whether one could return, depended on everyone’s own ability.

But if a certain gate had already been booked in advance, then other guilds, forces, or individuals who wanted a share of the pie had to get an exploration permit from the Zero Point Explorers and promise to hand over a portion of the exploration gains to the guild or force controlling this gate.

The higher the handed-over share, the more help one could receive from the gate controller.

And among the adventurer group participating in the exploration, a small portion would be stationed near the Labyrinth gate, waiting for the return of the adventurers who entered to explore.

So regardless of whether you wanted help or not, a base of twenty percent had to be handed over; this counted as a protection fee for the controller to stabilize the anchor point and the return journey.

And did our legendary Mr. Faust need to pay such a protection fee?

The answer was natural...

“Minimum share?”

The man who took the permit looked at the rectangular thin crystal chip handed over by Anselm, then looked up at him, “You are just one person.”

“Is it not allowed?”

The man shrugged: “Up to you, don’t blame our legion for being unkind when something happens, Mr. Lone Wolf.”

He handed the crystal chip back to Anselm and turned sideways to make way.

Anselm put away the exploration permit Nailan applied for and joined the queue quite dutifully.

Adventurers respected strength.

Anselm of course had the ability not to abide by this rule; even if he wanted to, kicking all the adventurers back to Strife Fortress and ordering them not to step half a step closer to this gate was not impossible.

Really pursuing it, when Faust confronted other Tier 5 adventurers, they wouldn’t say much either.

But Anselm had no interest in breaking rules—as long as this rule was reasonable.

Since the exploration of the Zero Point Labyrinth was the fundamental factor for the existence of adventurers, the series of exploration rules related to it, after hundreds of years of development, were very reasonable from the current perspective.

The young Hydra had no intention of trampling on such rules.

In his eyes, if it was for some reason, it was fine, but if one trampled on rules purely out of enthusiasm, the person who could gain pleasure from this matter was an evil fellow more dangerous than him.

However... This exploration permit reminded Anselm of other things.

“If Marina knew that Nailan had long bypassed her to do many things... she should be both angry and sad.”

Anselm agreeing to Marina’s request did not mean he would be partial to Marina.

A secretary, in the final analysis, was just a job.

Because Marina had the ability to do it well and also showed ambition that was appreciated, Anselm did not mind giving this position to her.

But did this mean Anselm would forcefully order Nailan, order other members of Shadow Swamp, that matters must be handed over to Marina?

Of course that was also impossible; what Anselm Hydra looked at in the end was, after all, only who could do things better.

That kind of unconditional partiality was a gentle selfishness irrelevant to interests and rights or wrongs, reserved only for a very few people.

Thinking of the conversation between Marina and Nailan at that time, Anselm, standing before the fissure, could not help but chuckle.

He shook his head, his figure disappearing into the propped-open void fissure.

I don't know what Marina will do by the time I return.

If Hit knows I treated her sister like this, she will definitely be so angry she’ll bite me.

Thinking like this, when he opened his eyes again, he was falling from the sky.

Beside his ears, apart from the whistling of wind, were screams of panic of various kinds.

“Damn it, this gate opening really has standards! Floating scrolls, floating scrolls! And water prison scrolls!”

The adventurers’ panicked shouting naturally had a reason; after all, below them... was a rolling lava field with no end in sight.

“Fuck, the ether wave rate here is even more outrageous than predicted! The difference is too much! The duration of the scrolls is very short!”

Some were cursing, some were screaming in panic, and some didn't even think, plunging headfirst directly into the magma.

“About two thousand five hundred degrees!”

The person who entered the gate earlier and jumped into the magma raised his head and shouted: “The people coming have basically specialized in fire elements, right! Just jump in boldly!”

Anselm’s figure had already landed on the magma in a few flashes.

Just stepping on the magma like this, he looked up at the volcano not far away that seemed to be spewing lava forever, his expression thoughtful.

“The elements related to fire here... are abnormally active.”

The young Hydra half-narrowed his eyes. The overly surging and active fire-type elements, [Burning], [High Temperature], [Flame], etc... under his perception, should not be the original appearance of this Labyrinth.

Something catalyzed the fire elements here; it looked like Ivora had indeed been here.

Anselm of course couldn’t run personally to every Labyrinth gate.

According to current Labyrinth detection methods, targeting sufficiently stable gates, although it wouldn't go as far as knowing the world on the ot

Just as Anselm was pondering where to start looking for Ivora’s traces, a bald man paddled his arms all the way and swam to Anselm’s feet.

“Can freely manipulate spells with such chaotic ether wave rate... amazing friend.” He waved enthusiastically at Anselm, “Haven’t seen a warlock of your level for a long time.”

Why exactly did Transcendents of the warrior type exist?

Warlocks analyzed the transcendent, sought truth, and could turn transcendent power into infinite magical uses.

What warriors could do, warlocks could do most of, and what warlocks couldn’t do, warriors basically couldn’t do either.

Then... Did this kind of Transcendent who couldn’t use ether as an extension of themselves to manipulate the world, and could only “manage themselves well”, have a necessity to exist?

The answer was right here, right inside the Zero Point Labyrinth.

The infinite Labyrinth contained endless worlds.

Although every world definitely had ether, and even the Labyrinth itself was filled with ether, the way ether flowed and the frequency of fluctuation could not be the same as the primitive plane.

Warlocks’ spellcasting abilities would be inconceivably weakened in the Zero Point Labyrinth; even alchemical instruments, special items, and even spellcasting scrolls would be affected.

Only warriors who reinforced their flesh with the transcendent and constructed the internal would not be overly affected.

They were the mainstream of the adventurer group.

Aside from that, hmm... basically they could only act as high-level thugs.

Of course, there was another reason. her side like the back of one’s hand, detecting what element was dominant was still no problem.

The adventurers entering this gate were obviously also screened; they had more or less researched fire elements.

Although it didn't go as far as not using their brains at all, compared to the talent and endowment required by warlocks, warriors indeed didn't use their brains much, at least.

Anselm ignored the bald man, but it didn’t hinder this guy from continuing to chatter endlessly: “I am Riley of Dragon Devouring City, a Tier 4 Scepter. With just this temperature, I have no problem swimming all the way to the bottom, but swimming like this consumes too much energy. This world is so rich in fire elements definitely has...”

His clamor and Anselm floating on the magma like a crane among chickens soon attracted the attention of other adventurers. Gradually, more and more people swam over here, drawing close to Anselm.

A warlock who could maintain normal spellcasting standards in chaotic ether wave rates was a hot commodity among adventurers; who wouldn’t want their teammate to be an all-rounder?

“Hey, friend! Give a hand, help give a hand! I can withstand it, but my clothes can’t withstand it, I don’t want to skinny dip in the magma at all!”

“Just create some stones to give a foothold!”

The gathered adventurers shouted. At the same time, some people realized that no one could chat with Anselm, which meant this warlock was likely a lone wolf warlock.

A lone wolf warlock who could cast spells normally in this kind of chaotic ether wave rate! If they could rope him in, perhaps it would be more valuable than finding something in this exploration.

A part of the adventurers who realized this point became even more eager.

“Handsome guy, handsome guy, make a friend! You know Grand Puppeteer Ovilica, right? She is my...”

“Brother, I have rich experience in getting beaten. If there is any battle next, I guarantee you won’t need to lift a finger...”

“I am a senior cadre of the Whistling Legion... Friend, after this exploration ends, are you interested in being a guest at Strife Fortress?”

A large group of muscular men swimming in the magma surrounded a young man standing above the magma three layers inside and three layers outside, clamoring and issuing invitations as if surrounding some peerless beauty; this scene was quite interesting.

It was just that Anselm, who seemed to be wandering in his thoughts, looked as if he hadn’t listened to their words at all.

“Friend... friend? At least say a name, don’t just stand there dazing!”

After calling for so long, Anselm didn’t give a response either.

Some people left very tactfully, while others continued to try to communicate with Anselm patiently.

“I am following the boss’s meaning, coming here to find a piece of high-purity Sky Fire Crystal. You are a warlock, you definitely know how precious this thing is, right? If we search together, how about I split forty percent of the remuneration to you then? Uh, half is not impossible either...”

Someone started talking about why they came for this exploration journey, how precious the treasure they were looking for was, giving Anselm this and that promise.

“You should be a Tier 4 Warlock, right? Looking so effortless, almost becoming a Tier 5 big shot? Want me to introduce you to our boss? Our boss is an old-brand Tier 5 powerhouse, you know Whistling Strife Bayebop! One of the most capable generals under the Lapis Lazuli Grand Duke! The famous powerful warri— in the West Kingdom”

Before the words were finished, Anselm had already taken a step forward, simultaneously placing his hand on the hilt of the pitch-black blade at his waist.

“Make way.”

The black-haired young man raised his chin slightly toward the adventurers in front of him, his expression arrogant.

Without waiting for the adventurers to make any movement, an invisible force pulled them, moving them away from in front of this strange warlock.

And Anselm had already undone Gleipnir’s suspension clasp, raising this blade that perfectly combined violence and elegance high up with one hand, then slashing down appearing to have no strength, soft and light.

Because the adventurer who hadn’t received a response all along muttered: “What is a warlock pretending for, even waving a sword around, what are you waving—”

BOOM!!!

In this instant, all the adventurers who descended into this world thought that the volcano had exploded directly.

But in fact, it hadn’t. Although that volcano was still occasionally roaring and spewing magma, compared to the current scene, it was too insignificant.

At the instant that pitch-black blade slashed down, a magma giant wave hundreds of meters... or even thousands of meters high shot into the sky!

Obscuring everything in the adventurers’ eyes.

The rolling black smoke spewed by the volcano, the scalding lava sprayed into the sky, were all obscured by the two monstrous waves of magma slapped toward the left and right sides.

Before this monster, that seemingly boundless endless sea of magma had actually been split into two; one could completely see the crust covered in cracks, ceaselessly gushing out magma!

“Wrapped in fire elements of such high concentration, really not easy to find.”

Anselm hung the blade at his waist, his figure flashing and landing on the crust that was being recovered by magma.

There... was a cluster of flame, a tiny, weak, but in any case inextinguishable flame.

And what was wrapped by that flame was a... hand bone that was completely charred.

Even Anselm did not reach out to touch that cluster of fire.

He just stood in front of that cluster of flame, frowning slightly, staring as it was gradually swallowed by the magma again, whispering in confusion:

“Since the flame has not dissipated, that means Ephithand did not die... How can she survive under the burning of Source Flame?”

The current Ephithand and the Ephithand in that future, although both thrown into the Lost Sea, had completely different personal situations.

The Ephithand in the predetermined future was also approaching her end, but not like this Ephithand, who was forced to madness under Anselm’s design, attracting the burning of Source Flame.

“You want her to deal with me? But how did you save her under ‘reasonable’ circumstances?”

This abnormal fact led to another abnormal fact—Ephithand did not die, which meant her flame was still burning Ivora.

Then why did Ivora not die?

However, compared to Ephithand being able to live even under the burning of Source Flame, Ivora not dying was conversely not so surprising.

But no matter what, these two statuses were absolutely unreasonable.

Anselm did not believe fate would violate its own principles in this kind of place.

It had too many times where it could have toyed Anselm to death by violating principles, but It had never done so even once.

So... how exactly did fate preserve these two people’s lives while maintaining “rationality”?

The sea of magma split by Anselm rolled and restored.

Anselm gazed at that charred metacarpal bone about to be completely swallowed by magma yet still being scorched for a long time, and collected it into the independent spatial ring from a distance.

“One piece of bad news, one piece of good news.”

He muttered to himself thus, and under the completely sluggish gazes of the adventurers, flew straight toward that gate in the sky.

The bad news was, whether it was Ephithand or Ivora, there was a high probability neither died.

The good news was, whether it was Ephithand or Ivora, they should both be in an unprecedentedly weak state now.

Ivora naturally needless to say, and Ephithand... her flame could not even burn Ivora to death.

Let alone burning to death, even the limb cut off by Ivora could not be burned to ashes, allowing Ivora to last for so long, still struggling now, attempting to return to the primitive plane.

Which meant, as long as the efficiency was high enough—

The corners of the young Hydra’s mouth rose slightly, the ferocity and wildness of a chaotic abyss demon sweeping past his sea-blue eyes.

Perhaps, he would achieve an act of... God-Slaying in the true sense, unprecedented.