The Judgement Warhammer was heavy in Jack's grasp. He stood tall.
The Bone Wyvern was a heap of broken skeletal structure. The Horned Lion lay nearby. Its massive form lay still. Both were dead. He was the survivor.
A new sensation prickled through Jack's armored form. It was a hunger. Yet, different from the usual physical need. A metaphysical hunger.
It's the [Status Effect: Gluttonous (Target: Hostile Beast)] that he had in this form. He had to devour at least a hostile beast a month to satisfy it.
Just a couple of weeks ago he used it against the corpses of a group of Vicious Rats. During one of the simple missions he took. Cleaning an unused mine tunnel.
He gained nothing from the devour. Just completing the monthly requirement. To avoid getting reduced attributes penalty. It hadn't been close to a month after that. He shouldn't feel the hunger yet. Unless...
He focused his power. The passive trait [Devourer Physique] was automatically activated. A dark, swirling energy manifested around the two massive corpses.
The bone structure of the wyvern seemed to fade. Becoming less solid. The lion's fur dulled. Its muscles seemed to wither quickly. Soon, both carcasses disappeared. Devoured. The process was quick, brutal, and efficient.
Jack felt a subtle shift within himself. A slight increase in the core power of his Judge Jack form. The value of his physique and passion attributes should grow by a few number now.
The Gluttony power had worked. It wasn't a dramatic leap. But it was a noticeable improvement. He hadn't gained specific abilities. Just a general enhancement. It was enough.
He lowered the Warhammer. The adrenaline from the fight receded. Leaving him alert but no longer buzzing with combat frenzy.
He surveyed the scene. The campsite was a wreck. Tents were torn. Equipment was scattered. The ground was churned up.
And the bodies. Zombies. Undead. Bats. Humans... Many of the mercenaries lay where they had fallen. Lifeless forms on the bloody earth.
He could feel some mercenaries were just unconscious. Perhaps injured but still alive. He looked at them. And ignored them. In this form, he was a hulking monstrous rakshasa. He couldn't offer comfort or aid.
He might need to change forms. Judge Jack was good for direct combat against massive threats. But too conspicuous and impractical for investigation. Or maneuvering in a potentially populated area.
He could become Jack Night, the human engineer. Or Jack Mystery, the invisible specter. He started to consider where he could find a secluded spot. To make the transformation.
But then... he felt it.
A ripple in the energy field. Not the lingering dark energy of the undead. Or the raw power of the beasts he'd just consumed. This was different. More intense. More dangerous.
It emanated from the direction of the Mist Palace ruin. Uphill from the campsite. It was a powerful, unstable fluctuation. Hinting at something significant.
His internal radar screamed danger. But also, opportunity.
Transformation could wait. Investigation couldn't. If the five dark-karma individuals were involved, they might need to be stopped.
Jack moved. He didn't walk. He strode. A heavy, purposeful gait that covered ground quickly despite the rough terrain. The hill was steep and overgrown. But it was no obstacle to his armored bulk.
He climbed towards the ruin. The ancient stone buildings of the Mist Palace were looming through the perpetual mist of the place. The powerful energy signature grew stronger with every step.
He reached the ruin's edge. Massive blocks of stone. Weathered and green with moss. They lay scattered. Or stood still in fractured walls. He pushed through a gap where a gate should have been. And entered the core chamber.
The air inside was thick with residual energy. The dangerous signal was strongest here. In the center of the circular chamber was a large, cracked altar.
And above it... Shimmering and unstable. It was the source of the fluctuation. A spatial crack. It twisted and pulsed. A tear in reality revealing nothing but shifting colors and chaotic light.
On the stone floor were bodies. Scattered around like discarded dolls. Six of them. Jack's immediately identified two of them. Two of the five suspicious individuals with the dark karma. The nervous-looking porter. And one of the Count's personal servants.
Their dead bodies were contorted. Their expressions were frozen in fear or agony. The other four were large, muscular men. With uniformed armor. The Count's personal bodyguards.
It looked like they had died trying to protect their employer. Or perhaps, died because of whatever the Count himself had done. The Count was not here. Did he jump straight into the spatial crack?
Jack studied the crack. It was large enough for him to pass through. Even in his hulking form. It was tempting to step through immediately.
The source of the energy. The reason for the deaths. They likely lay on the other side. But he hesitated.
He remembered the Prehistoric Realm. He had entered that other dimension when he first got to Sapphire City. But the opened space crack disappeared when he was inside.
He had been lucky. He had placed an anchor point for teleportation in the outskirt of Sapphire City beforehand.
But the experience had taught him a vital lesson. Spatial distortions could disappear. They could close. They could shift. Getting trapped in another dimension without a reliable way back was a serious risk.
He had his Nine-Anchor Portal Ring though. It allowed him to set anchor points and teleport to their locations. He had two anchors set already. One in the Prehistoric Realm. Another one just outside Sapphire City on Vestrose Island.
But, they were far. He needed a local fallback. Besides, there were several places here that he wanted to explore in the future.
Jack turned away from the ominous spatial tear. And the dead men. He needed a third anchor point. On this island. Somewhere stable. Somewhere discreet. Somewhere he could return to, if things went wrong on the other side of that crack.
He moved back out of the ruin. His heavy steps echoed slightly in the misty air. His objective was singular... secure a retreat point. He circled the ruin. Keeping within sight of it but moving deeper. Into the overgrown, less disturbed sections of the hill.
He pushed through thick bushes. Stepped over ancient, moss-covered stones. He was looking for a place that felt relatively undisturbed. Stable. And unlikely to be stumbled upon by the surviving expedition members. Or anyone else venturing into this part of the island.
He found a small, sheltered hollow between two large, ancient rocks. It was partially hidden by thick vines. It felt right. Still, quiet.
He focused on the ring on his finger. Focusing his will, he channeled energy into the ring. Designating the specific location as the third Anchor Point.
The ring pulsed brighter for a moment. A silent confirmation. The anchor was set. A stable link to this secluded spot on Tideless Island was now established.
With the fallback secured, Jack turned back towards the ruin. His steps were just as purposeful. But now carried a touch more determination.
He re-entered the core chamber. The spatial crack still pulsed above the altar. The bodies still lay where they were. He gave them a final glance.
He approached the altar. The air around the crack was charged. Making the hairs on his armored arms prickle. He didn't hesitate this time. This was the logical next step. This was where the trail led.
Judge Jack stepped through the shimmering, unstable portal.
The transition was instantaneous and jarring. The swirling colors and light resolved into a clear, sharp image. He was no longer in the damp, misty ruined chamber.
He was standing on packed earth. Firm and dry. Beneath a vast, blue open sky. Different world. Different time of the day.
He was in an arena.
It was colossal. Layers of tiered seating rose impossibly high around a vast circular battlefield. The stands were currently empty. Silent. Yet their sheer scale felt oppressive.
Massive stone pillars. Intricately carved with depictions of powerful beings and celestial events. They ringed the arena floor. This was clearly built for conflict. For spectacle.
A voice, resonant and booming, resounded. It didn't just enter his ears. It vibrated directly in his mind. It was masculine, ancient, and spoke with absolute authority.
"Inheritance Trial for the Great Cloudfather."
The words hung in the air. Echoing only within his consciousness. Jack swore. Another trial of the deity? Just like in the Webmother's Temple? What the hell?
And the name... Cloudfather? He knew the name. It was a god from the same pantheon as the Webmother. God of Freedom. Emperor of Fog.
"Phase 1. Strength Trial."
Another pronouncement. A trial. This was similar to the previous case in Webmother Temple. It was likely the reason for the spatial crack.
The deaths. The energy fluctuation. Someone had triggered this. Probably Count Bellcroft and his cronies. Trying to claim some ancient power or treasure.
"Objective. Defeat nine rounds of random opponents."
Nine rounds. A test of combat prowess and endurance. Random opponents. A trial by combat. He was glad he entered as Judge Jack. This suited him perfectly.
"Round 1 commencing."
The voice finished its announcement. The vast arena remained silent. Expectant. Jack settled his stance. The Judgement Warhammer held ready. Where would the opponents appear? From the pillars? The ground?
The answer came immediately. From the edges of the arena floor, near a towering pillar, a huge portal shimmered into existence.
Not the unstable spatial crack he had just passed through. But a controlled gateway of swirling ice and frost. Bitter cold air spilled out. And from it, figures emerged.
Twenty-one of them.
Wolves. But not ordinary wolves. Their fur was the color of snow, their eyes gleamed with a chilling, icy blue light. Frost crystals clung to their muzzles and paws.
They moved with unnatural speed and silence. Low to the ground. Their breath exuded mist in the warm arena air like tiny clouds of ice. Frost Wolves.