"Hm..."
Plop. Plop. Plop.
Beads of crimson blood dripped without end on the hot desert. An eerie silence overtook the crowd of onlookers.
A body, a famous Tomb Raider with a constitution stronger than diamonds, laid on the floor. He was sprawled like a fish, holding his own throat with both hands, eyes as wide as saucers.
He was bleeding but not in drops, he was bleeding in rivulets. The beads of crimson that dripped on the desert originated from another person—or to be clear, his hand.
Those fair hands dripped crimson.
Drip.
Drip.
And the owner of the hand was a young man. His hair was dark, as if it devoured light, and a unique pair of deep golden eyes gleamed against a stunningly handsome face.
He was naked, holding out his bloody hand, and stood ramrod straight with his sculpted physique.
He had a light smile on his face, gentle and pure.
The young man then turned to the next person closest to him. A young woman who was on her knees, also naked, just a few inches away from his body. Her mouth was wide open, indecent liquid smearing her lips.
As he looked at her, a crushing despair washed over her as flashes of distant memories and recent moments flooded her mind, blending into an unbearable tide.
She looked at the male corpse beside her.
Their first meeting appeared in her mind. On that fated night during a sand storm, she had met him. He was a person who seemed born to rebel against the order. He had relied on himself, growing stronger and stronger by raiding Tombs.
And he had acquired new allies everywhere he went—even gaining the Ghost Emperor's support. She had fallen for his ideals, beginning to believe they could topple the Empire and become its new rulers.
It felt as if everything had led to that moment. In his embrace, she had been alive, radiant with joy.
But then, the nightmare began.
The fate of the ambitious who were not capable. That was theirs. A powerful subordinate of the emperor, a woman stronger than men, found out their rebellious thoughts. Without suspense, the revolutionary resources were taken, and her allies were killed, captured, or escaped for their lives. She and the Rebel Leader Resse, her lover, escaped after the collapse of their headquarters.
He had slaughtered several pursuers, escaped the pursuit for days, and survived. Until…
Her eyes traced towards the young man. His black hair was long and chaotic, full, and lively. He had glistening golden eyes that pushed away the mundaneness of the world.
This young man was the current Emperor, successor to his mother, and he had captured their entire army in a single swoop.
With her captured, her fate was no longer her own. The price of losing, the weight of weakness—and she knew she would experience the cruel reality of being a woman.
But even as despair loomed, she clung to a single, unshakable truth: with all her heart and soul, she believed Resse would defy fate itself to save them.
She had seen this too many times.
He always defied undefiable odds.
And just like she had thought, her Resse had transformed into a monstrous, ghost-like form.
He was going to save her. And she, despite her current actions and position, had felt a blossoming strand of warmth and happiness.
Then, all it took was a swipe of a hand.
The neck had been severed.
That was the Emperor.
The current Pharaoh.
Sett Ramses.
Son of Neilara the Blind Saint, disciple of Ismera the Rat of Uncrackable Tombs.
The young man smiled, looking at her as if he had not claimed her lover's life.
"Have you stopped?"
His words sent a shiver down her spine as the bitter taste returned to her mouth. Memories surged like a flood, drowning her in the past.
To survive, she had to stall—had to buy as much time as possible. Even if it meant doing the unpleasant. Resse was gathering power, his Axiom needed every second to grow stronger. He just needed time. She had to get him that time.
Hatred flared in her eyes. A cruel, unyielding killing intent burned within them.
A desire to fight to the death was born in her heart.
However, when the golden eyes met her gaze, her courage crumbled like shattered glass. Reality crashed down on her. With her useless Axiom, her frail Tomb Raider physique, and her lacking strength, the only thing she could do was die a dog's death.
Then, her eyes settled on the young man's length—thick, heavy, and almost unreal, like something sculpted by the heavens themselves. Any man would wear it like a badge of honor.
Her anger wavered for a moment.
What was she so mad about again?
Her hatred began to cool down.
She should just change her lover if the first one was useless.
"Please," she begged, pressing her face into the sand, hiding her body with her hands. "I will do even more! PLEASE! Don't you have so many wives? Aren't you a lustful emperor, please! I will become your loyal subordinate! Your slave!"
Some onlookers jeered in amusement, while others averted their eyes. Such a gentle-looking woman—yet here she was, all because she dared to betray the Empire.
Execution was justice, but watching it unfold still left a bitter taste. Especially when the condemned was both capable and beautiful.
A pair of strong hands cupped her face gently.
She looked up, hope flickering in her eyes.
"Traitors are funny, you know why?" he asked, grinning.
She shook her head.
"Because if given the chance, you'd stab me in the back without hesitation. Your little rebellion could have cost me my life—my kin's lives."
His grip tightened. Bone crunched. Her skull caved like a brittle clay pot.
In death, the beautiful and ugly became the same.
The blood pooled around Sett's feet, but before it could stain his skin, inky tendrils rose from his shadow, weaving into a form-fitting armor that covered him from neck to toe.
It was his cousin, Shephe Ramses, who had transformed into a shadow.
Axiom of Shadows—Shadow Body.
"Why the heck did you let that woman go that far?" Shephe hissed in his mind. "That was so disgusting."
"I was curious how far she would go." He said, rubbing the back of his head. "It's interesting human nature."
She tightened around him, nearly stifling his entire body.
"I'll show you human nature, you bitch," she said. "Should I crush that thing you are so proud of?"
Her shadows tightened around his manliness.
Oh no.
"If it's with your legs, and gently," he said with a strained smirk. "I won't mind it."
"Oh the desert gods, I hate you sometimes."
"But you love me more times."
Sett vanished from the desert like a blur. And as soon as he did, the crowd began to speak in hushed tones about what Sett had just done.
"Even if it was a traitor, the Pharaoh didn't have to disgrace her that much…"
"Are you questioning the emperor?!"
"Uh… no-no but wasn't that a bit morally…"
"The traitor tried to seduce him but he wasn't seduced, he was too mighty to fall for it! Nothing more!"
…
Sett flew through the air like a shadow to reach his palace, supported by Shephe's Axiom and his own powerful physical body. By the time he arrived, it was already night. And as soon as he reached there, Shephe slid out of his body and moved away in her shadow form, not letting him catch her.
"The people there were whispering about you, by the way," she said. "I forgot to mention that."
"It does not matter."
He shook his head.
After having dealt with the traitors, Sett didn't plan to see the wild chaos he left behind for the populace. Whatever he did, the people working for him would make his actions look bold instead of anything else.
He had long put such people to work.
That was the power of propaganda.
Even now, the commoners who were talking the most loudly about his actions were his own people. That was how the words of others would manipulate public perception. And he, the emperor, decided what the others spoke most loudly.
That was the power of an emperor.
He could decide what was good and what was evil. Traitors would get no mercy even if they did the same thing as an emperor, while the emperor would receive no public hatred even if they betrayed the populace. Unless it went too overboard, that is.
For the populace, this execution would also act as both a warning and a punishment.
Shephe nodded, then her shadow began moving away. "I can't talk much—I am in my periods…"
Oh…
Sett blinked. Her periods were a bit special.
He then stretched himself, walking to the bedroom where his wife must be.
He fumbled into the room, his royal robes hanging off one shoulder, his pant buttons undone. He commanded the Axiom-designed lights to flicker on with his mind, illuminating the mess of his room.
Scattered across the floor of Sett's bedroom were warning letters imbued with Axiom-powered messages.
His golden eyes scanned the reports.
"My Pharaoh, the Ghost Emperor's forces have crossed the border. They're moving faster than we anticipated. We need your orders—"
"Ghosts are everywhere! The Empire is ruined!"
Sett's frown deepened.
A long minute passed as he considered the implications.
A whisper of movement caught his eye. His gaze shifted to the silken sheets of his bed, draped over a lithe form. Moonlight caressed the smooth expanse of bare legs peeking from beneath the fabric, their curves accentuated by the soft glow.
Emerald-green eyes peeked out from the sheets.
Beautiful, enchantingly adorable.
Zainah's playful gaze brightened when she saw him.
Sett smirked. The parchment crumpled under his fingers, forgotten, as he let his pants drop. There was no need to care about the Empire. Not today. After all, today was the last day of his reign.
Blushing, Zainah waved her hand, and the lights turned off.
…
Sunlight crept into Sett's bedroom, painting the room in a golden haze. Though already awake, he remained beneath the silken sheets, letting the warmth kiss his skin.
His golden eyes rested on the dark-haired woman tangled in his arms. Zainah. The woman who had been with him since he was barely five. She clung to him like a lifeline, one leg hooked over his, her arm locked around his waist.
Her face was buried in the crook of his neck, soft breaths tickling his skin—along with the faint warmth of drool seeping onto his shoulder.
Sett huffed a quiet chuckle, absently running his fingers down her spine. She nibbled at his shoulder in her sleep, murmuring something incoherent before tightening her grip around him.
But soon, his mind drifted somewhere else. His gaze moved to the hourglass on the wall. The last grain of sand had fallen to the bottom.
His time was up.
Licking his lips, Sett sighed. He needed to get up.
As he rolled out of bed, the woman beside him stirred. Her hand blindly reached for him, fingers grasping at empty sheets.
"Sett," she moaned, voice thick with sleep. "Where are you going? Come back."
"Sleep, Zain," he said with a sigh.
Zainah's eyes fluttered open, her emerald gaze locking onto him, brimming with grievance.
With a slow, deliberate motion, she pushed aside the silken sheets, revealing the full allure of her full figure—soft curves bathed in the golden morning light. She knew his weaknesses well.
Normally, he wouldn't have been able to resist.
"Still won't come back?" she teased, a smirk tugging at her lips. She stretched, arching slightly, watching him. "Come on, I regret letting you fool around with other girls, you know? You're rarely with me anymore… at least spoil me when you are."
Sett smirked, his composure wavering—but he didn't move toward the bed. Instead, he simply stood there, watching her.
Zainah pouted before sticking out her tongue. "Come here, and you can have a bite!"
Sett simply shook his head.
She blinked, confused for a moment.
He closed his eyes. Then, his senses expanded. His mind stretched across the vast expanse of his domain—his Territory, claimed in the name of the prosperous lands of Ehyut.
Pyramids rose beneath a blazing sun, their ancient grandeur untouched by time. Tombs, hidden and waiting, whispered secrets of the past. Tomb Raiders moved like shadows, chasing treasure and power. And beyond them all, Axiom Holders wielded their magic, reshaping the world in ways once thought impossible.
Working men toiled under the sun, their bodies glistening with sweat. Women labored alongside them, their brows damp as they hauled goods and shaped the land. Caravans moved steadily across the sands, camels trudging beneath heavy loads, their handlers guiding them with practiced ease.
Compared to the towering machines and gleaming cities of the advanced Tomb Worlds, his empire seemed almost ancient—like a relic of a bygone era. Yet, to Sett, it was grander. Not because of its scale, but because it was his. A land carved by blood, sweat, and will.
This was the empire that his ancestors had built up from nothing. The one that his mother had made prosperous. This was the empire that generations of the Ramses family had inherited like flames passed on from one man to the other.
This was Ehyut.
He manifested the hologram map of the entire land infront of him, surprising Zainah.
"Oh, your map manifestation is already much bigger than your mother's," Zainah said in interest. "You conquered so much more territory already…"
Sett pointed at a specific point in the manifestation.
He wasn't as casual as usual today.
She had noticed it too.
"Look, it's time," he said. "I will try it today."
Zainah's adorable face became rigid, gaze locked in on the manifested map. It was filled with red dots on all sides and they were all moving towards the capital.
"..."
She became speechless, her hand immediately clasping his nearby organ by instinct.
Sett looked at her seriously.
She coughed and patted his manhood. "Sorry, it was just too sudden."
It hadn't hurt at all, but Sett still scoffed at her.
He draped himself in a towel and walked towards the bathroom.
As the cool water from a tub cleansed him, he spoke: "My Axiom is already energized and working—and everybody I consider precious has been marked."
Sitting beside the tub now, Zainah looked at her left wrist—there was a crimson flower marking there. A flower that symbolized death and reincarnation in Ehyut.
"So what will happen?" she asked curiously.
"If I succeed today, nothing will happen and I will be back in this bed and you will bear me another child."
She hit him gently on his head.
He smirked. "If I fail, things will be trickier. Everyone I marked will die with me, but well, you know what my Axiom can do."
It was nearly useless in combat, much worse than his mother's or even Shephe's Axiom, but it had one signature use.
Zainah nodded.
Soon, Sett left the bath and dressed himself up. Then left the room. His usual playfulness was nowhere to be seen, only a face full of determination remained.
Zainah left to tell the other girls the news.
Sett was going to try and transcend mortality—become a God. Today. She wanted to speak to Sett's mother, Neilara, before anything.
That wise woman would know what to do.
On the other hand, Sett didn't go to ask anyone for advice, not to his many wives, not to his mother or advisors. He had been planning for this day since ages ago, and he already had strategies, contingencies, and even last resorts planned.
The fish had taken the bait, there was no longer any need for indecision or hesitation.
A shadow flickered through the royal corridor and draped itself over Sett's sculpted body.
"You smell like Zainah," she complained. "And it's my fucking cologne in the mix. Did she steal it?"
Sett's figure blurred, smiling and not answering such a dangerous question.
Soon, he stood at the top of his palace, standing above a golden dome-like structure on the palace roof. His clothes flapped in the wind, his golden eyes staring into the capital city with a gaze filled with emotion.
He could feel two auras of equal strength as his own in the capital.
Sett narrowed his eyes.
His Axiom wasn't built for direct combat, but theirs were. If he fought them head-on, he would likely lose. But this was his city. His Territory. And in Axiom Battles, home-ground advantage was half the battle won.
Usually, they wouldn't have dared to enter his Territory so boldly.
Now, they were here to force his hand. Allied together to make him take the first step toward Godhood. To watch, to study—so they could see the outcome before daring to attempt it themselves.
"We will not interrupt your attempt," an eerie voice said softly by his ear. "You are weaker than us in a battle, but you are also the one with the highest chance at godhood. If possible, show us a way ahead."
The Ghost Emperor, Sett sneered inwardly.
He smiled.
"Sure… but…"
He knew they wouldn't attack. If he succeeded, they might even be willing to become his subordinates. But if he lost? Heh. His Territory would become hot commodity. Had he ever let it be like that?
Sett saw all his women looking at him from a palace window, their faces stern.
He looked at his mother amidst them.
Neilara had her eyes closed, but she still smiled when he looked at her.
That beautiful smile was enough motivation.
A cold, callous smirk crept up on Sett's face, his golden eyes expanding as he began laughing. His aura billowed like an avalanche around him—it changed from a family man to the emperor who ruled with an iron fist.
"Ghost Emperor, Divine Scion, you two sure came in uninvited!"
The enemies both sneered, releasing their auras together to intimidate him. Sett used the aura of his entire Territory to fight back. But as he did, the Ghost Emperor used the collective aura of all his ghosts to push Sett back even more.
They had come prepared.
Sett's smile became sinister and he spread his arms wide open.
Wind buffeted against him, a clock of shadow rising like a war banner.
Enemies, my enemies, come.
"Your ghosts! I like them—I've been waiting for you to invade since so, so long."
His voice was a whisper but it echoed loud and cold. And as he said that, Sett began using an ability he had kept hidden all these years.
One that he had kept a secret.
His Axiom stirred.
Axiom of Reincarnation.
The axiom that made him weaker in combat. The one that made people believe he could never become a strong Emperor.
Axiom of Reincarnation—
Ability.
Death Begets Life.
All the ghosts inside Ehyut, including the Ghost Emperor, suddenly started to feel something. It felt as if something within them was stirring. It was a bit draining at the start, but soon, they began to visibly become translucent.
Their energy was being sucked.
This was the ability to turn things he killed into his own body's vitality, energy. He hadn't killed the Ghost Emperor, nor had he killed the guy's ghost army. But the moment his army entered Sett's territory, the man's fate was sealed.
There was a poison in the empire's very air. A poison that can make dead things believe they were killed by Sett himself from their very cells.
It was made with years of effort—using the help of hundreds of Axiom Holders and their combined abilities.
And the Ghost Emperor was a ghost.
A dead thing.
He was the single target of the trap.
His body, for now, believed that he had been murdered by Sett—that meant he was easy pickings. No matter how strong he may be—he had become the target of Sett's hidden ability.
"Wh–WHAT?"
Soon, all that energy moved towards Sett, becoming a wave of vitality for him. And it made his physical body temporarily reach a new peak of strength.
"NOOO!"
A dark form moved towards Sett like a blur.
A sword made of shadow appeared in Sett's grip.
Axiom of Shadows—Shadow Sword.
He moved as if to attack, but just as the enemy was about to crash into him—he dodged, much faster than the ghost.
The Ghost Emperor tried to use his own powerful Battle Axiom, but as he did, his focus was thwarted.
From the windows of Sett's palace, a woman waved at the ghost. When in enemy territory, be wary of the enemy's allies.
It was Zainah. And there was Neilara too, leaning against the window sill with a smile. They were using their Axioms. And they were strong in their own right.
It was not easy to not be distracted.
The Ghost Emperor wanted to fight back, but the moment he was distracted, Sett's sharp sword pierced into his shadow, and just as he did, his real chest began bleeding. Immediately, the energy draining away from him intensified by a thousand times.
"How… long have you…
"planned this…"
He became motes of dark light that entered Sett's body.
Sett spat on the floor, looking toward the distance where another aura was retreating frantically. "Did you think you could do whatever you want in my territory, you twerps?"
Soon, the aura was nowhere to be seen.
The Ghost Emperor and most of his ghosts were now Sett's own energy, his stamina.
And that meant it was time.
Before this temporary energy vanishes, Sett began his attempt at Godhood.
"HAHAHAH!"
And just as soon, his bloodied body crashed into the ground. His neck was broken, his eyes were poking out, and his brain juices were leaking.
His lips twitched.
What had hit him, he didn't know. All he saw was a pair of eyes. Deep, crimson, and indifferent. It had made him fail with just a simple glance.
All he knew was—he had overestimated himself.
Becoming a god?
He was still too weak!
The shadow around him slowly dissipated, Shephe's soft body falling limp on him. All his women, who had been watching everything from the window, closed their eyes.
Most of them couldn't bear the sight and began crying, but some of them took a deep breath. They clenched their fists.
Zainah was one of them. Neilara was one of them. They didn't cry. No matter what their expression however, they were all ready. He had warned them years ago, after all.
A long, bloody tear leaked out of Sett's own eyes.
"Sett…" Shephe murmured.
He raised his broken arms to pet her head. "Tell me."
She spoke weakly: "What will you do in your next life, will you reclaim your throne, will you become strong, will you come find each of us?"
Sett chuckled.
Some people are born rich. Some are born handsome. Some are born to sit on a throne, just like him.
Meanwhile, most people die trying to become what some are born as.
And Sett, born an Empress' son, was no different. Others thought he had it all, while he thought he had nothing as his own.
Anything he had could be taken away by death.
And thus, he wanted to become a God. A thing that some were born as while others could only watch from an infinite distance. He wanted to give eternal life to his loved ones. Live carefreely and with freedom across the vast expanse.
"Next time, Shephe, there won't be a failure next time!" His voice was hoarse, but his words were laced with determination.
Shephe nodded, placing her forehead against his lips. "Make sure of it. I will be waiting for you in the future…"
Her body slowly transformed into—not deep darkness of the shadow—but the brightness of light and dissipated into the air.
Sett's body began following her soon after.
He saw his hand crumple into light.
Axiom of Reincarnation—
Ability.
River of Reincarnation.
Crimson flowers lit up in the other women's wrists and along with Sett, they all began vanishing as well.
This was Sett's signature ability. He could help people reincarnate with all their memories, bodies, Axiom abilities, and even souls intact.
The ability only worked once a year, but Sett had already marked all his family and everyone precious in the past few years. Sett had always expected this failure. But as he died, he couldn't help but be bitter.
His Axiom had been too weak in combat. If he had a powerful battle-oriented Axiom, he might have stood a chance. In fact, if it were his mother who had tried this, with as much Territory as him, she might have stood a chance with her Axiom.
Sett gritted his teeth.
Ah! How hateful!
So much preparation. So much struggle. Only to fail in attaining something that others were born as.
Next time! Next time!
He hoped his next life would be different. That he would have a different Axiom—some lucky Reincarnates he created got a second Axiom even.
He hoped he would be one of those.
But even if not, he swore to himself that he wouldn't fail again.
What he didn't notice as his world darkened, however, was a sheen of divine brilliance that had appeared between his brows.
A touch of something divine.
[Tzzz~]
[Limitless%^^%\%]
[Tzz]
Then, his consciousness stopped working. For the first time in years, his restless mind became empty of thoughts.
He died.