Apocalypse Healer - Path of Death-Chapter 71B1 - A God’s Scheme

It was clear Fortress wanted something more. That much was painfully obvious to David. He wasn’t interested in reclaiming the money or the Ray Nectar used on Torb’s sister. Fortress had another goal entirely, and it took a great deal of effort to get Torb to reveal the truth.

“Fortress wants me to become his Champion, but he said I don’t meet the requirements to gain such power,” Torb said, tapping his foot nervously. “He challenged me to create a Sanctuary—a Dwarven Sanctuary where Fortress and the other Dwarven Gods can take care of everyone.”

Melach gasped, echoing David’s shock. Becoming Fortress’s Champion seemed appealing to those who sought the power and title it brought. Torb, who had already accepted Fortress’s power and could be counted among his loyal subjects, was no exception. Becoming the god’s Champion was likely one of his dreams.

However, the challenge was steep, to put it lightly. Repaying Fortress with money or personally harvesting Ray Nectar from the Sun Palace sounded far easier than building a Sanctuary from scratch. That task would be astronomically expensive and arduous.

It also required immense power. Torb needed the strength to protect the Dwarven Sanctuary during construction and beyond.

What a sly bastard, David thought, his opinion of the Dwarven God of Protection sinking further.

Giving Torb a daunting challenge in exchange for the promise of becoming his Champion was one thing. Doing so after spending a priceless treasure on Torb’s family seemed manipulative.

A good Patron wouldn’t have attached strings to the Ray Nectar. Torb was already loyal and would have felt indebted to Fortress for everything he had done. Torb’s mission to build a Sanctuary for Fortress in the Earthen Union was commendable. But David didn’t like how the situation had unfolded.

Why would a Patron use such a priceless treasure for a subject’s family without ulterior motives?

There might be good people in the world, but gods weren’t among them—not on David’s list, at least.

His mind raced. He was missing something—a crucial piece to complete the puzzle. It felt as though he was supposed to know the answer, but it eluded him. He began piecing together what he did know.

Fortress was a Dwarven God. He wanted a Sanctuary for himself, his divine kin, and likely other dwarves. He was willing to use priceless resources to achieve this. But what if he and his fellow gods had told more subjects about this Sanctuary? What if they had invested more than just one Ray Nectar to see this goal through?

If that wasn’t the case, then what made Torb so special? On the other hand, was this even about Torb? David’s focus shifted.

Maybe the Champion’s reward isn’t the point. The challenge itself seems key. But why invest so much before even informing the recipient about the challenge?

David ruffled his hair, frustration mounting.

Why was constructing a Sanctuary in the Earthen Union so critical?

He pondered for a while, his thoughts drifting until Zachariah’s words resurfaced in his mind:

"If I were to tell you that an Aetherless planet transforms into one of the most aether-dense planets integrated into the Pantheon in the next decade, you wouldn’t believe me. Then again, you wouldn’t understand what that means—not unless you’re a Regressor. You haven’t seen anything yet.”

The regressor’s words echoed as vividly as the moment they were spoken.

If Zachariah truly was a regressor—a man who had returned from the future—who else might know the Earthen Union’s fate? The gods, of course.

David had no idea how time travel worked or who retained their memories of the future. His knowledge of magic and its laws was pitifully lacking. But he didn’t need expertise to hypothesize. Whether he could prove his theories or not didn’t matter—not right now.

If the gods remember everything, like Zachariah... If what he said is true…

A creeping headache interrupted his train of thought.

If the Earthen Union were destined to become one of the most aether-dense worlds in the Pantheon, then every power—including the gods—would want their share. Fortress was no exception.

"Two years to build a Sanctuary for your kin? That’s crazy," Melach laughed hysterically for a good moment. But the elf turned oddly silent once he was done. He cocked his head with a flat smile, "Then again, it doesn’t seem like a bad deal if you can become Fortress’ Champion in return."

Two years didn’t feel like much time, meaning Torb would have to start construction ‘soon’. That meant he was in dire need of land, power, connections, and money to build and manage a sanctuary.

David’s opinion of Fortress soured further as he noticed Torb’s sunken figure. The dwarf was clearly overwhelmed by the situation. He was desperate.

Fortress needs a beating. That’s another high-priority point on the to-do list, David grumbled internally. It would take time, but he was confident he could take on Fortress eventually, as confident as a mortal could be about the insurmountable task of whipping a god’s buttocks.

"Let’s put the thought of saving money aside for a moment. Or anything related to conquering the Wilderness to acquire land," Melach said in an even tone. David caught the elf glancing at him briefly before turning back to Torb. "You should focus on getting stronger first. Right now, what we need most as a team is power. A lot of it. The more, the better."

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Power would help with the conquest of the Wilderness and earn money quickly. The stronger they were, the easier their future steps would be.

"You need to research a lot about the construction of Sanctuaries, but you can do that while I research magic and David does... his thing. We grow stronger and reach the Silver Rank—Gold Rank would be even better, though I’m not sure if that’s feasible—in the next few months before we move to the next stage. In the meantime, we won’t set aside too much money. We invest it in our growth instead!"

"You… really want to help me?" Torb’s eyes widened.

Melach nodded, while David merely shrugged. "As long as I’m in Arc, I’ll help you. Just make sure you don’t let anyone fool you."

David caught the elf staring at him with a deepening frown but chose to ignore it.

"We’re a team. Don’t forget that."

David didn’t know how long he would stay in Arc, but he would give his all to help the dwarf while they were a team. In fact, the thought of growing stronger together was to his liking. He’d consider their situation win-win if not for the ulterior motives of Torb’s Patron God.

"Thank you," Torb’s voice cracked, and he looked as though he might burst into tears.

"Whatever," David waved dismissively. "How about we figure out how we grow strong enough to build a Sanctuary from scratch?"

David barely noticed the time pass; before he knew it, night had fallen, and they parted ways with a few plans in mind.

Returning to his room, David did not waste time thinking about sleep. There was no need to sleep with so many things awaiting his attention.

He spread a towel on the floor and retrieved one of the few Kobold corpses they hadn’t sold from the spatial necklace. It was the body of an ordinary Kobold.

Once on the towel, David first checked the body for crimson motes. He materialized the Obsidian Blade, coated it in [Holy Touch], and rammed it into the Kobold’s chest. Shutting his eyes tightly, he focused solely on the crimson hue coating his soulbound weapon. Barely two seconds had passed when David discovered the first crimson motes.

They were dim and less prominent than the motes he had found in the bodies of the Aether Kobold Swordsman and the Grand Kobold Shaman, but David had expected this much.

He absorbed a few crimson motes before retrieving the Obsidian Blade. A moment later, the body disappeared back into the spatial necklace, preserving the carcass and the crimson motes within.

The next step on his to-do list was to inspect the transmutation and creation of Blood. His Source was nearly full, but he cast an overclocked [Blessing] on himself anyway. The upgraded version of [Bless] filled his body with power, just like the Skill Rune had at Tier-0. However, the Skill’s potency was much greater at the 1st Tier, augmenting him further. His senses perked up, unraveling details he had never suspected were within his range of perception.

It felt as though the Source and the letters engraved on it had gained clarity. David considered this a welcome surprise, one he exploited immediately as the carcass’ crimson motes entered his Source.

David perceived a sudden change in the motes’ behavior. They thrashed subtly as he circulated them through his body. He barely noticed at first, having assumed some resistance was natural when controlling and guiding foreign substances. But now, it made more sense.

The Source immediately removed the crimson motes' aggression as they entered the energy reservoir, transforming them in mere moments before absorbing them seamlessly.

So that’s how it is? David thought, his curiosity piqued.

He felt the crimson motes disassemble into more than a dozen fragments as the Source opened to absorb Aether. While the Source’s behavior was intriguing, the motes’ disassembly was even more attention-grabbing. The fragments seemed to pull naturally toward the Aether, attaching to it as they entered the Source. Slowly, they intertwined, staining the semi-translucent Aether crimson.

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Various changes occurred in the following seconds, though David barely took note of them. The dimly glowing letters etched on the Source intensified, distracting him. Equally distracting were the crimson motes stored in Deryadus’ Arm.

At first, David had been certain that Deryadus’ Arm could only strengthen Blood and improve its healing properties. It also appeared to serve as a decent storage for small amounts of Blood. However, his experiments revealed it could do much more.

He felt an unnatural pull from the crimson motes he had stored in the Relic before leaving the Kobold Nest. It had been part of a risky experiment—one that turned out to be a success. David theorized that the Relic didn’t just alter Aether and Blood; it might also affect crimson motes.

It seemed to strip their aggression and enhance their healing properties, though he wasn’t entirely certain yet. He knew he needed to research the relationship between the nature of energies and their effectiveness on specific Skill Runes, especially how aggression influenced the potency of Healing-type Skill Runes. That, however, was a task for later.

For now, David was relieved to learn how the Source made foreign crimson motes more malleable and less hazardous to his body. He was equally pleased to find that Deryadus’ Arm could achieve a similar effect, albeit less efficiently. The Relic couldn’t transform crimson motes instantaneously, but that wasn’t an issue. It wasn’t designed for that purpose.

This difference also explained why David could control the altered crimson motes. Once the Relic altered them, they lost their aggression and could be moved or stored elsewhere without risk. David doubted they would harm him if he stored them in his Energy Pathways. That was, of course, assuming his Energy Pathways could handle the strain of storing Essences. That was another problem he needed to address.

His Energy Pathways, though unlocked, stored only a modest amount of natural Aether. This amount wouldn’t be sufficient once he learned to replenish Blood mid-combat. Furthermore, he doubted his Pathways were durable enough to hold more than a few crimson motes scattered throughout them. This inefficiency was far from the standard David aspired to achieve.

Learning how to insert and extract Essences from the Source would simplify everything. Insertion was easy; the Source handled it seamlessly. Extraction, however, was a mystery—a significant challenge on his ever-growing to-do list.

David felt impatience welling up inside him. His to-do list seemed endless, and time was never on his side. Each passing day brought more snippets of intel, compounding his sense of urgency.

One god had already extended his influence into the Earthen Union. No, that wasn’t entirely accurate. David couldn’t shake the suspicion that three gods were meddling there. And if there were three, there had to be more. They were just the tip of the iceberg—he was certain of it.

“I need more than this,” he grumbled. “More power. More control.”

To others, David might seem powerful. He had played a key role in Arc’s defense and had slain a Behemoth Darkai less than two weeks into the integration. That was impressive, no doubt. But the Behemoth Darkai was merely a pawn in a much larger game.

The real threats were the players behind the scenes—the gods and their schemes.

Their interference felt like poison to his freedom, and David could not tolerate that.