Arcane: Begging for Help in a Parallel Universe!

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"A new email!"

The notification that popped up in front of Link made his eyebrows shoot up, and he nearly lost control of his expression.

Where was this reply from?

Another timeline branching off from the world of Piltover and Zaun? Or perhaps a completely different parallel universe?

His heart, which had been beating steadily, suddenly quickened, and his breathing grew restless.

This restlessness caused Pride to let out a suppressed growl, steam hissing from its mouth.

As Link's creation, Pride's soul was deeply connected to his. At close range, it was easily influenced by Link's emotions.

"Father—" Pride's low rumble snapped Link out of his thoughts. He blinked, dismissing the notification from his vision.

"It's fine, don't worry."

Link turned to Pride with a reassuring smile, then stood up, leaning on the table. He addressed Lucian, who was looking at him in confusion.

"Since we've reached an agreement, I'll have someone contact you about the next steps."

Link pulled out a Ferros family emblem and placed it on the table. "Take this to the airship dock at the port. Show it to the agents there, and they'll provide you with a safe place to rest. I'll notify you of further details once I return."

Lucian had keenly noticed the shift in Link's demeanor. It was hard to imagine what could cause such a drastic change in the young man's mood.

The intense gleam in his eyes, the slight contraction of his pupils, and the overwhelming aura he exuded all pointed to one thing: excitement, exhilaration, and a barely contained fervor.

After a moment of silence, Lucian picked up the emblem.

Although this was a partnership, he was clearly at a disadvantage in this transaction.

In a way, this young man was now his employer. So, it was best not to pry.

"Understood. I'll head to the port later."

"Good," Link nodded, then left the tavern with Pride and Neeko in tow, ignoring the fearful gazes of the patrons.

He hoped to find a nice spot by the sea to cool his overheated mind.

Once the trio—a human, a mechanical construct, and a Vastaya—left, the tavern erupted into chatter. Some patrons even glanced nervously at Lucian.

"What was that?" someone asked, trembling as they relived the fear.

"A god-warrior! It must be a god-warrior!"

A gold-digger from Shurima who had settled in Bilgewater was shaking uncontrollably, whether from excitement or fear.

"That inhuman figure, that commanding presence, that overwhelming aura—only the god-warriors from ancient myths could possess such power! He must be a god-warrior who has survived since ancient times!"

"Hey, hey, how many drinks have you scammed with your hometown fairy tales? Still spouting nonsense?"

"I'm not lying! My homeland really had god-warriors! They were the celestial warriors of the Sun Empire!"

"Yeah, yeah, sure—"

The chatter around him made Lucian even more silent.

A god-warrior?

Such beings no longer existed in the world.

Reports from his Sentinel comrades in Shurima had mentioned that the glory of the ancient Shuriman Empire had long faded, leaving behind only the remnants of history that refused to die.

They called those remnants the Baccai—immortal, deformed, chaotic, and ignorant.

They were nothing compared to the steel behemoth he had just seen, let alone the fact that its heart pulsed with magic.

Link, who could create such a being and command its reverence, might truly be able to help him achieve his goal.

Lucian stared at his guns on the table, then at the emblem. He picked up the glass of strong liquor and downed it in one gulp.

"Wait for me, Senna."

"Who dares mess with Neeko now!!!"

Neeko stood on Pride's shoulder, hands on her hips, looking incredibly pleased with herself.

Pride's draconic eyes reflected Neeko's figure as it suppressed the urge to toss her into the sea and evaporate her.

If it weren't for Father's fondness for this little creature, she'd be gone in an instant.

Link led Pride and Neeko to a relatively clean dock—though "clean" was a stretch, given the layer of oil floating on the water.

The city's sea beast slaughter industry had utterly destroyed the island's coastal ecosystem.

"Pride, table and chairs," Link said casually.

Pride nodded, and pristine blue crystal structures rose from the ground, forming an elegant table and chairs.

After realizing its ability to create high-strength crystals, Pride had taken the time to study design and craftsmanship.

Of course, its "grandmother" had intervened during the learning process. Though her teachings were excellent, Pride was convinced it was unmatched.

After all, it was Father's creation—meant to be powerful, perfect, and unrivaled.

Link sat on the crystal chair, crossing his legs and summoning a tea set with a wave of his hand.

"Brew some tea," Link said, then sniffed the air and frowned. "Never mind, it's too smelly. I've lost the mood."

Pride retracted its hand from the tea set and returned to its position behind Link.

"As you wish, Father."

"Now, let's see who this letter is from."

Link opened the email, and a line of text caught his eye.

**[Hello, Link Star.

I am Irelia, one of the forsaken living in the wastelands outside the city.]**

At this, Link jumped out of his chair.

Project... Project Irelia!!!

His letter had reached the Project universe's Irelia!

How did he know it was the Project universe?

First, the sender directly introduced herself, confirming her identity. Second, she mentioned her location, which almost certainly revealed the universe she was from.

Among the various skin universes, the Project universe stood out for its fragmented yet vivid world-building.

It was fragmented because the official lore only expanded with each new skin release, revealing small pieces of the universe each time.

Yet it was vivid because each skin update added depth to the setting.

The Project universe was a highly advanced cyberpunk world ruled by megacorporations. In this world, heroes either underwent cybernetic enhancements to become tools of the corporations or awakened to their own will and rebelled against them.

As one of the most popular skin lines among players, the Project universe had clear faction divisions. However, due to the slow pace of skin updates, it also felt somewhat incomplete.

But one thing was certain: this universe had the technology, knowledge, and resources Link desperately needed!

Link calmed himself and sat back down to continue reading.

**[After receiving your letter, I ran multiple module checks and mental diagnostics on myself.

I also had a trusted hacker examine me several times, but no anomalies were found.

This letter was sent a month after I received yours, as I truly have no other options left.

The wastelands have no laws, no order, no society—only the brutal law of the jungle, where the strong prey on the weak, and survival is never guaranteed.

The constant purges by the Project and the infighting among the forsaken have made life unbearable.

Our camp has lost even the most basic supplies, which is why I'm reaching out to you.

So, please, help us!

We only need the most basic survival supplies. If you're willing to lend a hand, I'm ready to pay any price.

Whether it's my own weapons or even my core.

I just hope you can help us!]**

Reading this, Link clicked his tongue.

So, he was being begged for help now?

The irony wasn't lost on him.

Note: So far this story is published up to chapter 156 on my patreon, go check it out and remember that if we reach the goal of 310 power stones I will publish the next chapter.