“Is it even possible to stack the Decrees?” Percy asked, though he struggled to suppress his greed.

  “How should I know?” Metatron spat, lifting a pair of tentacles up helplessly. “Nobody has ever attempted this before – for obvious reasons.”

  Percy nodded. The Void Hand would never allow the Moirai – their most hated enemies – to so much as step foot in the tournament, let alone claim its ultimate prize. This was uncharted territory.

  “But I already have a second core in my abdomen. Wouldn’t the new Decree attempt to plant one there, only to fail?” he asked in protest.

  “It all depends on how the Decree actually works,” Metatron replied. “I’ve never seen it in action, but I have carefully observed what happens to your hosts when you pass them the Moirais’ Decree, so I think there’s a chance.”

  “Care to spell it out for me?”

  Percy knew that he’d already grilled the titan a lot more than usual today, though Metatron had opted to humour him instead of telling him to buzz off – as he would have probably done under different circumstances. Clearly, the god wanted him to agree to this mission. He must’ve also realized that there was no way that Percy would jump into something this dangerous without having his questions answered.

  “The Decree doesn’t target your abdomen directly – it only ends up there. You have to remember that not every living being in the universe even has the same body structure as you. Take me for example – I have nothing remotely similar to an abdomen, but I’m pretty sure that you could have still granted a new core to a mortal of my species if they hadn’t gone extinct,” Metatron explained.

  “Okay. But every race with a similar body structure as the Moirai that I’ve ever possessed always had their new cores take root in the same spot. Surely it can’t be a complete coincidence,” Percy pointed out.

  This even included birds and insects like Micky and Nephthys.

  “It’s not,” Metatron said, before elaborating. “The Decree looks for a natural mana centre – a spot where your channels would be densest. Of course, you don’t actually develop those mana channels until after you awaken the core, but that’s irrelevant. The perfect locations are pretty much universal. I suppose you haven’t noticed that your Decree always tries to plant the seed in your sternum first. It only moves to the next best spot after finding the first one occupied,” he explained, tapping the tip of his tentacle on Gabe’s abdomen, pointing to the light brown dust core pulsating beneath the man’s transparent skin.

  Percy’s eyes widened. As a matter of fact, he hadn’t known that. This probably happened within fractions of a second of him possessing a new host. By the time he was done convening with them and stitching up their spectral wounds, the Moirais’ Decree had likely already taken root.

  What Metatron hoped for was clearly that the Void Decree would also attempt to plant a new core in his sternum first, move to his abdomen after failing, only to be forced to relocate a second time to the next suitable body part.

  Percy had no idea where that would be for a human, but that was beside the point. If this worked, he would become the universe’s first three-cored mage!

  If the stars aligned, he might even acquire the ability to pass both Decrees to his future hosts, which was clearly what the god was betting on. If that happened, Remior and the Vault would instantly gain the means to surpass both the Moirai and the Void Hand – in due time!

  “You’re making a lot of assumptions though, aren’t you?” Percy couldn’t help but point out. “If it worked like you claim, then wouldn’t the Moirai or the Void Hand have tried to stack their own Decrees multiple times?”

  “I’m sure that they have, and that it didn’t work, otherwise we would have long seen some pretty monstrous mortals with multiple cores,” Metatron admitted. “However, even two seemingly overlapping Decrees can approach a problem in completely different ways. Just because the Decrees don’t stack with themselves, it doesn’t mean that they are incompatible with one another. We can’t know for sure until someone tests this.”

  “What if it kills me? Or if we get found out by the tournament’s organizers? Hell, even if it all goes smoothly, it might just be Kassorith who gets the new core, or I might also obtain one but not the ability to pass it to other people.”

  Obviously, the Blue Thess’kalan was also one of Metatron’s assets at the moment, so the titan wouldn’t end up entirely empty-handed in that case. However, Percy doubted that the titan would be satisfied with just that, otherwise he could have had Kassorith enter the tournament by himself.

  In fact, he could have even had one of the Vault’s natives participate in the regional tournament of their home world a long time ago – had he been interested in a single two-cored specimen.

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  Going to such lengths just to empower one mortal clearly wasn’t worth his time. The mission would only truly succeed from the god’s perspective if the new Decree could spread as easily as the other one, giving him an endless supply of three-cored specimens.

  “It’s as you say,” Metatron replied, not denying any of Percy’s concerns. “I still think that it’s worth a shot. Keep in mind that you’re not going to be the only one invested heavily in the mission. I fully expect my spy’s cover to be blown – if not immediately, then certainly within a few years of your participation. I’m still willing to pay the price, and you should be too. In this world we live in, there is no reward without risk. Besides, weren’t you looking for ways to extend your lifespan more than any other Red-born in the universe? Becoming the first three-cored mage sounds to me like the kind of opportunity that you can’t afford to miss out on.”

  Percy frowned.

  Had this been a few years ago, he would have indeed jumped excitedly at the titan’s offer. However, he now had a good reason to believe that he would be able to solve his lifespan problems with his artificial advancement and the royal jelly – on top of the Aurora Dew and the second-generation leaf that he had already consumed.

  Undertaking such a risky mission was unwise. A lot could go wrong, and he didn’t even need it. Of course, Metatron didn’t know about most of that, though Percy was hesitant to agree to the titan’s proposal just to trick him.

  ‘No, I’m thinking about this all wrong…’ he corrected himself.

  Complacent mortals didn’t become gods.

  Countless Green-borns across the universe comfortably reached the Clear grade with dozens of thousands of years to spare, only to fail in the end. Percy needed every second of lifespan that he could get his hands on to maximize his odds. If he played his cards well, he would not only get a new core, but also a first-generation leaf from the tournament.

  Moreover, his lifespan wasn’t the only concern.

  Even if he could guarantee his ascension to divinity with his current means, why would he stop aiming higher? His unreasonable ambition had brought him this far, hadn’t it? Was he satisfied with merely becoming another deity among millions?

  Zoris had once told him that the essence of divinity was always striving for the impossible – a mentality that resonated with Percy deeply. So what if he had solved his lifespan problem?

  The universe had made things harder for him from the start by cursing him with a Red core, but it had also provided him with a unique opportunity to make up for his shortcomings and climb higher than anyone before him: his bloodline.

  If he stopped trying the moment he crossed the tipping point, wouldn’t he be squandering his greatest gift?

  “Alright,” Percy reluctantly spat after thinking it over for a while. “I make no promises, but I’m willing to at least entertain your proposal. I’ll need to hear a very detailed plan that deals with all the potential pitfalls before I go through with it though. I’ll also need a lot of time to prepare.”

  There were naturally several problems to solve before they even attempted the mission. Kassorith had demonstrated many suspicious abilities in the previous tournament – the worst being the Vault’s magiscript.

  Percy and his host hadn’t been called out at the time, but news of their activities could have easily reached the ears of the alliance since then. Even if they hadn’t, the organizers of the void tournament were bound to be more knowledgeable than the Thess’kalans.

  Consequently, on top of coming up with a good excuse for why Kassorith would be escorted by a god from Tauros instead of one of his own people, they would need an explanation for everything else.

  Furthermore, the Blue’s previous strength wouldn’t cut it. Percy and Kassorith had barely eked out a victory last time, and the void tournament’s standards were much higher. They couldn’t reveal Circulation or his second core either – for obvious reasons.

  “Very well. It’s not like we’re in a rush,” Metatron agreed. “The tournament takes place frequently, the Decree is always offered to the top contestants, and your ticket can be used whenever you want. I’ll perfect our cover story and do my best to prepare Kassorith before your next visit. I suggest that you also put some thought into strengthening your host, however. There’s a limit to what I can do, and you’ll be the one fighting alongside him.”

  Percy nodded. This arrangement worked for him as well. He’d already earned too much during this trip, so his priority was to return to Remior and spend the next few years digesting his gains. The infiltration would still probably have to happen before he advanced – be it naturally or artificially – as he didn’t want to show up in the Vault with Green cores centuries sooner than expected. However, he still had some time before that happened to come up with a few additional tricks.

  Before he left the artificial world, the divine pentapus passed a black ring to Gabe – one that was intended for the jellyfish-person himself, not his spectral guest. To Percy’s shock, the unassuming artifact was one of the Vault’s four Rings of Sacrilege: the one containing an earth-affinity blessing. Unlike Zoris’s eternal prison, this one didn’t seem to possess a will of its own.

  Percy was as surprised by the god’s unexpected generosity as he was tempted to snatch the magical object and vanish from the Vault forever, though he probably should have been neither.

  Gabe was swiftly becoming quite a powerhouse. He’d recently completed combat challenges of a difficulty roughly two whole grades above his own – albeit with Percy’s help. Once he mastered his new composite affinities and acquired a second blessing, he would become one of the Vault’s most talented mortals, so it wasn’t that strange that Metatron had started investing into him directly.

  As for stealing the ring from under the titan’s gaze?

  Yeah… Percy wasn’t dumb enough to try. He doubted that he’d even succeed, and there was no point in backstabbing the pentapus right now. Bidding his friends farewell, he filled up his spatial seals with as many books as they could fit, before finally leaving the Vault with all of his clones.

  Evidently, he was going to return to the artificial world a lot sooner than he had originally planned, the ambitious mission to infiltrate one of the universe’s peak factions filling him with as much dread as it did anticipation.

  However, this was ultimately a project for later. Thinking about processing his recent gains, an ethereal grin formed on its non-existent lips as he drifted through the soul plane.

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