Keeper of Totality [Time-Travel LitRPG]

A dark-haired man expressionlessly watched the planar intruders head towards one spot on the hill, discussing their encounter. One hand gripped his staff, the wood creaking under the strain. After a sharp crack, thin lines outspread from his clenched fist.

Archwizard Peros glanced at his cracked staff with disapproval, clicking his tongue. The staff broke in two and he tossed it aside, summoning a new one from his dimensional space.

The sound of muffled groaning from behind made him turn around, his expression still cold.

"Urgh.... Where..." The two light wizards blearily awakened, one of the two sitting upright. Her unfocused gaze landed on the Archwizard before them. "Sir Peros...? Ah!" Her eyes widened. "Sir Peros! There were intruders who attacked us in the facility! Please, for the sake of the Athenaeum, we must.... must..." Her brow furrowed. "Facility? Were we at a facility? I recall we fought something... or did we?"

"Poor, ignorant child of light." Archwizard Peros smiled gently at them. "It seems your mind has been irrevocable altered by undeathly influences. I must put you out of your misery... dear witnesses."

The woman wizard blinked, not understanding, while the other woke up just in time to let out a choked gasp as a ring of dark mana formed around their necks... barbs facing inwards.

Archwizard Peros swept his hand across the air and ruthlessly clenched it into a fist, shrinking the immaterial shackles. The wizards went blue and the veins on their faces bulged under pressure.

The Archwizard turned around as the sickening sound of their end echoed behind him. He dusted off his immaculate robes, and then pulled out the Necronomicon he had obtained from an outpost of the Institute located in the Wight-affected wastelands.

He gained a cruel smile. "With this, my Ascendency to Seat of the Council is nearly certain. First Supreme Seat from the Dark Tower... since the assimilation of the Tower."

But the Necronomicon wasn't the only item of value he obtained from the Sundown Continent plane shard. He had obtained something from Ground Zero several months prior, but had yet to understand what it did. He only knew that it was valuable.

Sindelar Peros assumed that it was himself the little mage of the Count's entourage had discovered visiting Ground Zero, during that party's prior misadventures on the plane. He had intended to kill the party after he defeated the Wight and re-sealed it into the Necronomicon used as its cage in the Institute outpost, so as to erase any possible leads, yet he had been dissuaded from that in the meantime.

He had to devise an alternative method of permanently killing them that could slip under their sponsor's radar. It wouldn't do for him to ruin the burgeoning relationship between him and the Count before he could obtain what he needed from her.

...the two mages and mercenaries still needed to die soon, however. But as for the object he obtained those months ago...

He reached into his dimensional space and clasped around what felt like empty air, yet he knew held the item in question. When his hand returned, a shimmering illusion of white interlocking cuboid lines revealed itself. The only thing he knew about this was that it was the core that controlled the largest mechanism in the Institute, within the control panel tabletop. Its only label was in an unidentified language not of the plane, yet when he grabbed it, a name was imprinted in his mind: Conduit.

A conduit of what, exactly? He didn't know. The only thing he was sure of was that irrespective of the desires of those blight-born ancient fools in the Athenaeum Council, Olden would remain ignorant of what occurred on the Sundown Continent.

Sindelar Peros smirked and returned the Conduit to his dimensional space. Lucille Goldcroft may yet be a valuable tool to him. He only needed to disturb Olden's influence and bring her under his private control. Olden was the best faction for him to be part of as of now, but he never planned to be under the thumb of the powerful figures without making himself known.

With a sweep of his staff, the bodies of the light wizards desiccated, becoming shrunken, shrivelled skeletons. They clambered up, re-animated as his weapons – until he swung his staff and shattered the cadavers. Ghostly sighs escaped from them as they left the Mystical Realm to enter their new home of the dead.

It was to his benefit that light-element individuals made terrible undead. That meant they would have barely any memories, if any at all, and no intelligence until they became an Undead Lord of some kind. But that may only happen long after his own death.

Sindelar Peros didn't intend to die, however. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at the enormous, permanent tear in the planar exosphere, stars and astral bodies where only clouds and the azure of the atmosphere should be. Remnants of a Primarch's power.

The Paladin from the Citadel of Fate may be a problem... but he believed the man would know what's best for him and his wards.

He had finished everything that needed to be done on the plane shard. Even the Institute had already been destroyed before he had to do it himself. The only thing left... was to return to All-Aeon Athenaeum and build up his faction until he's ready to reveal his power.

...

"Lucyyyyy...!"

Lucille froze up and blinked at the blonde-haired girl who was sobbing as she hugged her arm.

"Lucy! Are you okay?! Did he hurt you?" Annaliese sniffed. "I was so scared you would be hurt!"

"I'm... perfectly fine," Lucy replied, shaking her head and stepping back. "I was lucky that it was that Archwizard, however."

"...is he someone you know?" Vincent asked carefully.

Everyone watched her for a response, all mentally thinking the same question: did she know him from her past?

Lucille looked at them all. "I've never met him in my entire life." She looked over her shoulder at the distant devastated landscape. "Maybe I saw him at my Seat conference ceremony, but a low-ranked 12th Seat of the Illusion Order would never have much to do with the 13th Seat of the High Council."

"13th??" Vincent asked incredulously. "Lucille, people at that level of Council Seat are... nearly as old as the Empire itself!"

"Sindelar Peros was an anomaly. He was also very talented. Or... is very talented," she informed him. "My issues aren't with his status. He's at least 27,000 years old right now, so he's 'old enough' in my books. My issues are with the fact that he never obtained a Necronomicon in the past... and I don't know what might've caused this change."

Additionally, with this plane having far too many connections to End... I don't like this in the slightest. There has to be some anomaly with this timeline that I'm not aware of... maybe the Authorizer can enlighten me as to if this was a perfect reset or not. I haven't felt this anxious since the past timeline.

The others exchanged looks with eyebrows raised. For those who didn't have her knowledge of the 'past future', such a drastic change this early into the timeline was hardly a major cause for concern.

Eventually, Marellen adjusted his gold-framed glasses and stepped forward. "I can't pretend to know what it's like for you to see these changes, but... I believe you already have a plan in mind for that Archwizard, correct?" The navy-haired mage hesitated for a moment. "I don't believe you're the... ah... benevolent type to those who threaten you, Lucille."

She stared at him before her face split into a wide smile that made him flinch back. "Whatever gave you that impression? I'm the spitting image of benevolence and... forgiveness. And I certainly didn't just gain a back entry to his soul through my Origin Skill because he voluntarily touched me first." Lucy waved the others off before they could ask about the questionable nature of the Simulacrum Realm brand. "Relax. I have no way of actually reading the minds of those connected to my Origin Skill. I have... many methods of communication available to me through it, however."

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

So... I now have a future High Council member connected the Simulacrum, and he wants to keep valuable knowledge a secret from Olden for his own personal gain. When he begins to oversee the Dusky Undercroft Dungeon, his attempts to keep the secrets hidden will only make more people curious.

Her expression cooled. That didn't mean he wasn't an enemy, however. Even without Scytale's message about the briefly, quickly hidden killing intent, she knew he had malicious intent towards several of her friends.

She turned away from the others to keep leading the way. "I believe this ordeal has been a learning experience for me. I... have been far too passive. When it comes to engaging in higher politics, or leading the Aurelian Commission as a whole. I can't bide my time under the pretence of being a 'puppet leader' forever."

Vincent walked up to her. "Then your plans are?"

"For the meantime?" Lucille glanced at him for a brief moment but continued on. "Investigate my extreme weakness to death mana and remedy it. Then..." She smiled coldly. "Complete a purge of the Commission."

And make Olden think twice before attacking me again.

Awkward silence reigned as they finished their walk back to where they first emerged onto the plane. Lucy never stopped smiling, and it only grew brighter as she took out her suitcase and opened up for them all.

"Time to hop back in," she announced cheerily. "I think we all need to take a rest and recover."

Roa winced and rubbed her back. "Yes, I... would like to request permission to take a healing potion. Or several."

"I hope when the main plane shard gets opened up that it won't be as dangerous as this one," Marellen absentmindedly replied.

Lucille froze on the spot, her expression fixed in a tight smile. "Main... plane... shard?"

Scytale gave her an odd look. "I don't remember this but... did you of all people forget?"

Lucy stared at him. "No." She buried her head in her hands. "I can't forget anything, especially something I was never, ever told!" She looked up and glared at Marellen. "When did you discover that the Athenaeum knew the coordinates for the main plane shard?!"

He shied away and tried to hide behind Trisroa, who gave him a withering look. "I-it was in the briefing booklet! About the facility and everything too! This was only a branch of the facility... "

She gazed wearily at him. "I really, truly hope I'll be proved wrong... but I have a feeling this experience may repeat itself in some way within the coming years."

...

Marellen safely took them through the Athenaeum's equivalent of customs, and they were finally back in Gilded Seat. They entered the Black Lily, which was where Jasten Albrecht gave Lucy a parting salute.

She tilted her head. "So... why did Radical need you and the Prophetess to be present on the plane in the first place?"

"Ah..." The Paladin sighed. "To... lower the validity of the Light Tower's testimonies. To the Citadel's knowledge, I was still at the estate on Aeternus. This is to force the Citadel to cut the Light Tower off... although..." He grimaced. "There are no witnesses left to muddle the testimonies of. Only evidence in the form of a very large tear in the atmosphere. I am... unsure where things will be heading from here on."

Lucy pondered this explanation, but ultimately shrugged. "We're both wrapped up in this now. If I go down..." She sliced a hand across her neck and mimicked the sound of dying. "We're going down together."

"I can confidently say that in my entire career, I have lost more hair in this year alone than all the others combined," Jasten stated flatly.

She grinned and spun around, walking towards the exit. "Soon Annaliese won't be so wrong to call you 'middle-aged'."

Lucille opened the door in front of her and walked into the next room where the others were waiting. She planted her hands on her hips. "Now, Annaliese, Raegan." She hesitated for a moment, before sighing. "I... was wrong to exclude you from this originally. You were both essential to helping retrieve Sedric and helping all of us. Thank you for coming."

The room was silent. The two siblings looked at each other until...

Annaliese's eyes began to water. "Don't die, Lucille!"

Lucy stared at her. "...what?"

The girl sniffed. "Normal Lucy would never say that sort of thing! It's a death flag! You can't die now, we just got Sedric back!"

Dumfounded, Lucy could only keep staring at the girl. "I-I'm... what? What do you think of me?!"

The others chuckled, and then Annaliese stopped crying nearly as soon as Lucy said that. The Citadel's Prophetess cupped her face and grinned. "I know. I was joking. What do you think of my fake tears? Would they fool the Sages when they ask questions about today?"

"...Lucy, you might've created something terrible," Scytale replied with a smirk.

Lucille sighed and pressed a hand to her temples. "Moving on... Vincent, Scytale and I must go to Alichanteu on the Aeternus plane due to factional politics. As such, I think it's time for you to go-"

"Uh, before they do..." Sedric held up a hand, looking awkward. He shifted under their gazes. "I, er... wanted to say something."

Lucy raised an eyebrow, but gestured for him to speak.

Sedric scratched his neck and mustered up the courage. "...thanks everyone. For... everything. Coming to get me and all that." He hesitantly nodded at Lucy. "Especially you, Lucy, for organising all this to come get me in person."

Everyone, a bit surprised at how polite he had been, blinked and looked at each other. Sedric went somewhat pink, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

Luckily, someone was always there to ruin the mood. "Sedric, blushing is cute on a girl, but you're a guy, and it's really grossing me out," Raegan said with distain.

This time, Sedric turned bright red in mortification and anger. "I- Raegan! I was trying to say the right thing there and... show my gratitude and stuff! Don't make fun of me for it!" He whipped out a miscellaneous rope-like magical item he hand in his belt and dashed toward the kid, but Raegan was too quick and slipped out the door after poking his tongue out.

Scytale paused and held up a finger. "Wait... was that the first time Sedric called Lucy by her nickname?"

The Paladin in the room gave the two a flat look over his shoulder, then nodded to the rest as he held out his arm for Annaliese to escort her. "That would be our cue to leave. We will meet you all again, if the Primarch of Fa-" The words died in his mouth as he recognized the uselessness of saying such a pleasantry for a lot of the people there. He coughed lightly and continued – "If the Realms' design is such."

Annaliese waved goodbye to them all. "See you all in a while! And Lucy!" She pointed at Lucy and smiled. "Don't worry! I've had lots of practice pretending to cry a lot for the Sages! They're not getting anything out of me!"

Lucille gazed at her with mild bemusement. "I can't say I was particularly worried about that-"

They walked out, leaving Vincent, Marellen, Scytale, Larena, Roa and Garthe inside. The two mercenary siblings glanced at each other.

"I'd like to announce something too," Larena began solemnly.

Lucille watched her for a moment and then walked over to a chair to sit down. "It would be lie to say that I didn't expect this, but... maybe not this fast. Was the events of the Institute the final nail in the coffin? Or... perhaps me?"

"I had already made my decision before the Wight," Larena refuted. She looked around and dipped her head at everyone. "I have enjoyed this commission, and it will definitely be one of, if not my most memorable. But my true family is with the Shadow Blade division of the Black Hand," she informed them all calmly. "I'm honoured you placed trust in me as a friend and colleague, but I... want to return to the ones I've known my whole life." She smiled and put her hands on her hips. "I grew up with the Guild, you know? They're my sisters and brothers, if not by blood."

Lucille nodded. Roa and Marellen didn't look as surprised as she had expected. Maybe the mercenaries had already told them they never planned on staying permanently. Lucy looked at Garthe. "It seems like Larena hasn't chosen for you. Will you stay or return?" She smirked and took a coin out of her pocket. "If anything, I can afford any price."

"Tempting, but..." Garthe gave her a sheepish grin. "Thanks everyone, but I get bored easily. I don't want to settle down with any one organisation yet. And besides..." He slung an arm across Larena's shoulder. "Who'll be there to annoy her if I'm not? A little brother's got to be good for something, right?"

Larena rolled her eyes and shrugged him off. "Get off me."

He clicked his tongue. "No sibling affection, whatsoever."

"If that's your decision." Lucille stood up and held out a gloved hand for them both to shake. "You performed above and beyond my expectations. It was enjoyable to meet you both again after so long. May you fare well in your ventures."

Garthe looked at her hand for a second, and instead of shaking it, he grabbed her wrist and raised her palm higher. Lucille quirked an eyebrow at his actions until Garthe grinned and slapped his palm against hers. "Hi-Five! Your bond taught me that one."

Scytale nodded proudly with his arms crossed. "You've learned all you can from me, my first disciple. Go out into the world and spread my teachings!"

"I see," Lucille replied dryly. She turned to the taller woman next to him and offered her hand again. "Then, Larena. It's been a pleasure."

"Yes, it certainly..." Larena grabbed her hand and yanked her forward, slamming her mana-imbued fist into Lucy's abdomen. "-has!"

Vincent started and jumped from his chair. Lucille stumbled, looking disorientated, then... she heaved her stomach's contents onto the floor.

The room was deadly silent as they waited for her response. Lucy wobbled slightly, wiped the back of her mouth, and slowly looked at her. "I..." She winced. "Probably deserved that, didn't I?"

"For stabbing me to the hilt without hesitation? Yes," Larena replied lightly, studying her nails.

Scytale came up to her to heal her, but Lucy swatted away his hand. "Don't bother." She wrapped her arms around her stomach and grimaced, then drew in a deep breath and straightened up. "If it makes it any better, I'll give you a 500% bonus on your workplace injury fee."

Larena gave her a deadpan look. "I'm not that cheap."

Although their conversation seemed strange and almost slightly disturbing for the onlookers, who were utterly appalled at Lucy's nonchalance to getting a sucker punch to the stomach and vomiting what little she had left in her onto the ground, another conversation was occurring through spiritual energy between them both.

'I gave you the window of opportunity. You could've dodged that.'

I could've, Lucy mentally agreed.

'...and you didn't, because?'

Lucille didn't answer Larena.

'Just letting someone take out their anger against you physically isn't how you keep relationships alive, Lucille. I suppose I don't really 'hate' you though. More annoyed you knew about one of my secrets and took advantage of it, truthfully.'

Larena sent her one last look and walked towards the door. "We'll hang around until you come back from Alichanteu, if you don't mind. We need to pack, anyway."

"...sure," Lucy wheezed, still in pain.

'Lucille Goldcroft, you're a fascinating and fun individual.' Larena's mental tone became slightly teasing. 'But the kind of fun I want to keep fifty planes away from me and watch from a distance until I'm at least Rank-5, you see. I don't feel like getting stabbed again any time soon.'

That's understandable. Lucy gave her a barely perceptible wink and then slowly walked back over to her chair. But we're not that dissimilar. Make sure to keep my out of Aeternus Duchy politics, okay, Larena Genest? That's above my qualifications, I'm afraid.

The mercenary stiffened up, and her pace increased slightly as she walked to the door. Larena shook her head wryly and was about to open it, when-

The door slammed open, to reveal a towering beast of a man, his blood-red hair wild and matted as it framed his savage face. Orange eyes glowed ominously through sticky hair, casting a vicious light onto his sanguine-splattered face. His formerly white shirt was a tie-dye creation of red fluids and stains, while his left hand gripped a ghastly spear tipped with red light. He breathed in and out as he just stared at everyone in the room.

A dark-haired man behind the first one stuck his head up to peak over the arm blocking the doorway. "Ah, Count Goldcroft, you're back! I see you have..." He took in Hargrave's fury and backed off with his hands held in a surrender. "I've chosen the wrong time, apparently. Please, discuss what you need and don't worry about me."

Count Ravimoux stepped back with a polite smile that widened when Lucy shot him a dirty look.

Then she gave Hargrave a weak smile and spread her arms. "You look like you've seen better days, Hargrave. Perhaps you'd like to come in for some tea to restore your energy?"

"Do I look like I want.... no. I'm not good with words, so I'll keep this short." He spun his spear and pointed at her. "I want to spar. I don't know where yet. I'm angry, and I feel like fighting. So take those weapons out and attack."

Lucy's fake smile faded somewhat and she gazed wearily at him. Calming down the future Plane Destroyer of Firebloom might be even harder than her fight with the Wight at this rate.