LOTM: Traveling between epoch

In an instant, Elaria Moonfest nearly crushed the golden goblet in her hand. Ordinary elves wouldn't dare to act so irreverently before her. She could ignore the nonsense spoken by other races, but among the elves, there happened to be an Eli Walker.

"Really."

"If you don't believe me, you can ask the Goddess of Luck."

"There are plenty who've become Angels."

"Perhaps in a thousand years, even a dog could become a Saint."

"Hmm, I didn't say the Goddess of Luck got there by luck; I only meant that lucky individuals really do exist…"

Eli Walker watched as the Elf Queen's breathing grew heavier, as though she were suppressing something primal. He wisely shut his mouth.

Among the elves, social interaction was straightforward and direct. Given that most elves couldn't beat him, Eli had nearly forgotten that, despite her composed demeanor, Queen Elaria was still an Angel of the Tyrant Pathway. She could indeed strike someone if provoked.

Seeing him obedient, Elaria snorted coldly and temporarily suppressed her anger.

"What you just said, I understand better than you."

"In certain eras, with enough fortune, becoming an Angel isn't an unreachable goal."

"But how many Angels exist today? Which of those who survived the Cataclysm aren't blessed with additional abilities?"

"Flegrea, Gregary… many of their descendants were born Angels. And how many of them are still alive?"

"I know you may have your own plans, but you've experienced too little. You're still young. You lack the battle tempering of even many mid-Sequence elves. You don't possess the kind of killing intent that ensures one's enemies are permanently dealt with."

"Forget killing intent—tell me, when you face the Lord of Storms, do you feel absolute hostility toward him?"

Her words were clinical, dissecting his soul with surgical precision. Eli had no rebuttal—they were all truths.

Elves were creatures of purity. Even if they couldn't defy the Tyrant, they still bore absolute enmity toward Leodero, the thief who seized the Storm authority.

Eli lacked such fervent hatred. Perhaps because he knew too much: that Leodero had become a deity largely through luck, that he was little more than an egg before the Mother Goddess of Depravity, and that seizing authority was, cosmologically, rather ordinary.

His upbringing had been relatively comfortable. He simply didn't carry those kinds of strong emotional convictions.

"I just don't have that instinctive, righteous fury that 'Justice' has toward evil," Eli admitted quietly. "That doesn't mean I won't resort to underhanded means if the need arises."

"You're right. I don't feel the urgency to blow anyone up in a fit of passion. If there's a chance, I'll stab. If not, I'll cause a little trouble. I'm still on the elves' side—same face, same blood, same culture."

He didn't know how else to explain it.

Perhaps it was a symptom of the divine perspective. Sometimes he felt like he was role-playing life rather than living it. Was Roselle like this too? Are we all just simulating our way through existence?

How had Klein managed to integrate so quickly?

"You need to leave," Elaria said again.

"You can't stay holed up in elven sanctuaries, only speaking with elves or sea-folk."

She found his condition problematic. He wasn't devoid of divinity, nor lacking in humanity—but neither quality was strong. No overwhelming love, no consuming hatred. A diluted state.

He restrained himself, but wouldn't admit it. He performed adaptability like a mask, trying too hard to look like he belonged.

"Alright," Eli muttered, patting his own cheek to wake himself up. "I'll be ready. Call on me if you need anything."

What other choice did he have?

He could remain in the Rorsted Archipelago, but that was unnecessary. His original goal had been to hunt for higher Sequence characteristics.

"Where is your Calamity characteristic?"

"Take it out. I'll seal it into your body. This way, you won't have to advance yet, but you'll be able to wield Calamity's power in advance."

Elaria spoke with rare softness. She had expectations for Eli—whether prophecy or intuition, she could not say.

Perhaps… this elf could become a god?

"You had this ability all along and never told me? Since when do elves play these mind games?" Eli exclaimed. "Is this a Dragon Pathway trick, or does this come from the White Tower?"

"I meant to tell you last time," Elaria said calmly. "Who left in a hurry?"

Eli flushed. "One moment, I'll be right back."

With a rush of wind, he vanished from Elaria's palace.

Back in his residence, he stood before Arrodes.

"Arrodes, give me the Calamity characteristic. Elaria wants to seal it in my body. As long as I don't formally advance, the Lord of Storms shouldn't be able to interfere."

He tapped the surface of the magic mirror, instructing his virtual self:

"Continue scanning for ownerless Uniquenesses and Sequence 1 characteristics. Prioritize hidden or unclaimed ones—don't just chase after the five complete pathways or the three exploitable ones. If it's empty, we want it. We can't afford to be picky anymore."

His mirror clone obediently returned to work.

Arrodes released the Calamity characteristic from its pocket dimension.

"Will you bring me with you this time?" the mirror asked.

"Not yet. I'm worried a true god might snatch you. We'll maintain Spirit World contact instead."

"I'm not in a rush to leave."

With the Calamity characteristic in hand, Eli returned to Elaria's palace.

This time, he didn't see any of the elf attendants, but thought little of it. He didn't suspect Elaria of scheming for the Calamity trait. That would be absurd.

"Queen, how do we begin?"

He tossed the Beyonder characteristic toward her with anticipation. This was an opportunity to learn something rare.

He had also consumed low-level White Tower characteristics.

"Turn around," Elaria commanded, catching the Calamity trait. Lightning flared across her back, the characteristic's volatile power subdued by her aura.

"Turn around?" Eli blinked. "Not… from the front?"

Why did this feel like getting vaccinated?

"You or me?" he asked nervously.

Electric currents coiled around Elaria, forming a lightning-forged dagger.

"Should I have expected anything else from elven sealing?" Eli grumbled.

He took the dagger, applied a hypnotic suggestion to dull the pain, and sliced open the right side of his chest.

Blood welled up but floated, arrested midair by an unseen force.

Frowning, Eli muttered, "That hurts more than a shot. Done?"

Elaria gave a slight nod. Raising one hand, she gripped the trait. Lightning gathered behind her and surged into the Calamity characteristic. The deep blue essence burrowed into Eli's wound like a second heart and anchored itself in his body.

"That's it?"

He examined himself. His body hadn't begun to merge with the Calamity trait yet. Though Elaria's "surgery" was crude, the effect was undeniably effective.

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