I Level Up by Killing Gods-Chapter 47: Darkness and Allies.

The Null was not a place.

It was an absence.

A devourer.

Time did not flow there—it pooled, stagnant and thick, a tar that suffocated thought and memory.

Light, if it dared exist, fractured into whispers before dissolving. The void teemed with primordial entities older than gods, their forms indefinable: shifting masses of teeth and tendrils, galaxies compressed into serpents, sentient storms that sang in languages that unraveled sanity.

They did not hate. Did not love. They simply were, eternal and ravenous, pressing against the fragile membranes of reality.

Kael knew them. Intimately.

They had been his only companions during his centuries in the dark.

---

He woke screaming.

The inn room was pitch-black, his throat raw, sheets soaked with sweat. The Blight in his veins writhed like a nest of worms.

Aether’valis materialized instinctively, its blade casting blue shadows. The Null’s whispers lingered—*you belong here with us, killer of gods*—but softer now, diluted by the material world.

"Mad," Kael muttered, pressing his palms to his eyes. "I’m going mad."

The Blight pulsed in agreement.

He sat up, the cot groaning.

Outside, Sanctus Nexus was unnervingly quiet. No guild patrols, no Ravager screeches. Just the occasional drip of water from the eaves. His mind circled the same problems:

An A-Rank core. The Second Reach Trial. Black Haven Academy.

These were what plauged his thoughts.

To return to Earth, he needed a core potent enough to create a gateway—a luxury reserved for elites or high reach emissaries.

However he possessed the ability to use one at the price of a Ravager core.

The Trial, meanwhile, was suicide without allies. The Academy’s first-years would enter the Nexus soon, raw but moldable. Useful. But trusting them meant exposure.

However trusting the guilds meant death.

And then there were the Echoes.

He summoned them. Three objects materialized in the air, hovering like relics on an invisible altar:

The Crest: A circular medallion of tarnished silver, its surface etched with a nine-pointed star. The edges were rough, as if torn from something larger.

The Ring: A band of blackened bone, too large for any human finger. It hummed faintly, a sound that made Kael’s molars ache.

The Dagger: Serrated and cruel, its blade the color of a stormcloud. When Kael grasped it, his vision flickered—a flash of a temple collapsing, blood pooling around an altar.

*Idols of the Blind Gods*, the Trial’s message had called them. Kael didn’t know which gods, or why they were blind, but the dagger’s vision suggested they had a long story behind them.

Echoes were remnants of the Nexus’s capricious rewards.

Some held divine power; others were mere trinkets, valued only for their symbolism. The Crest could be a key to a forgotten vault. The Ring might be a noble house’s sigil. The Dagger... Kael set it down quickly.

He needed an appraiser. Someone who wouldn’t ask questions.

’Lira.’

The girl was a criminal, not a confidant, but she knew Sanctus’ well. She’d also stolen the Iron Pact’s map, which meant she had something useful.

He dismissed the Echoes, their forms dissolving into motes of light. Sleep was a lost cause. He dressed mechanically, the Blight’s ache a constant throb in his joints, and began to plan.

---

Black Haven crossed his mind again.

Perhaps it took entering the Nexus to understand.

The first-years would be as he was—naive, arrogant, eager to prove themselves. But they’d have resources. Connections. And if Kael could manipulate a few into aiding him, the Trial might be feasible.

But first, the A-Rank core.

Lira’s map could fetch 10,000 shards if the Iron Pact’s intel was genuine, that’s what she told him. Enough to buy a core from the Shroud Market’s less scrupulous dealers. Or hire a guild’s services.

Neither option appealed.

He lay back, the cot’s straw mattress prickling through his tunic. Sleep tugged at him, a riptide he couldn’t fight.

---

When he opened his eyes again, dawn bled through the room’s lone window. His body felt heavier, the Blight’s corruption having at his veins.

*Knock. Knock. Knock.*

Three sharp raps at the door.

Kael froze.

The innkeeper? No—he’d paid his debt. The Iron Pact? Possible. Or the Silver Vanguard, if Lira’s threat had backfired.

He summoned Aether’valis, the blade’s familiar hum steadying him.

*Knock. Knock. Knock.*

Louder. Insistent.

He approached the door, every sense taut. The floorboards creaked. A shadow shifted under the threshold—*two* figures.

"Kael." A woman’s voice, crisp and authoritative. "Open the door."

He knew that tone. Lightforged. Earthlings.

Aether’valis vanished as he unlatched the door.

Two figures stood in the hall.

The woman wore Black Haven Academy robes, her platinum hair braided into a crown. The man beside her was younger, his posture rigid, his hand resting on a holstered Etherion pistol.

"Cadet Kael," the woman said. "You’ve been recalled."

The woman’s gaze flicked to the still-hovering motes of the dismissed Echoes.

It’s been there for hours.

"The Earth Faction maintains outposts in every Reach beyond the First. Your... sudden dissaperance drew attention. We’ve had lookouts tracking you on earth since...a month ago an order was given to find you in the Nexus aswell, most thought it impossible you’d be here but we checked regardless...and look,"

Kael’s grip tightened on the doorframe.

"Why?"

"Because you had become quite an interesting topic back on earth after your combat with the deceased student...and then surveillance shows you suddenly dissapering into thin air...we thought you special, and the fact you are in the second reach proves that," the male enforcer said, his voice edged with forced neutrality.

"Come with us. The faction offers resources. Training. Protection from the guilds."

"Protection?" Kael snorted. "Or a leash?"

The woman’s expression didn’t waver. "The Nexus devours the solitary. You’ve seen it in your time here I’m sure."

’Allies.’

The word curdled in his throat.

"If I refuse?"

"You’re not a prisoner," she said, stepping back. "But consider this: the Second Reach Trial requires a team. The faction can provide one. Or you can die here, rotting in a pay-by-the-hour flophouse."

The enforcers left without waiting for a reply, their boots echoing down the hall. Kael stared after them, the offer coiling in his mind like smoke.

’A team.’ Faction-trained, loyal to Earth—or to whoever held their chains.

A floorboard creaked behind him.

"Earth faction, huh? Who could have guessed you were from that shitty place."

Lira sat cross-legged on his bed, peeling an apple with the stolen Pact dagger. How long had she been there? Her mismatched eyes glittered with mischief.

Kael didn’t register her entrance, that was weird.

"Heard they’ve got nice digs. Private baths. Real food. You gonna ditch me for a cushy bed?"

Kael shut the door. "You’re trespassing."

"You’re boring. Also, we’ve got bigger problems." She tossed her dagger; it stuck in the wall beside his head, quivering. "That other map we lifted from the innkeeper? It’s got coordinates for a vault westward. And the Pact’s already on my scent."

He yanked the blade free. "We’re not selling it."

"Who said sell?" She grinned. "Let’s rob it."

The source of this c𝐨ntent is fre𝒆w(e)bn(o)vel