Primordial Awakening: I Can Evolve My Skills Infinitely

[Pale Monarch]

[Level: 90]

[Skills: Void Control, Eyes of the Void, Void Nullification…]

[Description: One of the five "monarchs", beings above the "Forsaken Lords" in the hierarchy, the ones that seem to have a hold on the "Upper" realm.]

[Hell-Mode Analysis: Ah shit, more of these guys.]

---

Sam's eyes narrowed as the status panel unfolded before him, casting a faint glow against the endless void.

The name that appeared at the top made his chest tighten.

[Pale Monarch].

His gaze lingered on the description, his jaw clenching the longer he read.

'Five monarchs,' Sam thought, his eyes narrowing even further.

'God damn it.'

The panel confirmed what he had already feared.

The Forsaken Lords had not been the peak.

They had spoken about others above them, and now Sam had proof that their words hadn't been empty.

They hadn't lied when they warned that even if one Lord fell, others would rise, stronger, crueler, unrelenting.

There was always someone waiting to step forward and crush him.

'How many more are there?'

His thoughts churned as he remained restrained by the void, forced to stare at the colossal being that loomed in front of him.

A monarch.

Not just stronger than the Forsaken Lords, but something that sat higher on the chain, something that ruled over the very void itself.

Sam exhaled slowly.

'Oh well.'

[9 minutes 47 seconds left.]

The timer burned in the corner of his vision like a curse.

Every second mattered.

'Gotta deal with him quickly.'

The Pale Monarch's mask shifted, its carved eyes glowing faintly as a voice seeped into the void.

[We have an endless amount of time in here. No one will ever disturb us.]

The sound was playful, almost mocking, yet it carried the weight of inevitability.

The Monarch's body twisted in the void, nothing more than an amorphous mass shaped like a serpent, its mask resting at the tip.

It wasn't even humanoid.

It was wrong, disturbing, as if its very form was an insult to the concept of flesh.

Sam's stomach churned at the sight.

Were all monarchs like this?

If this was only one of them, then what did the other four look like?

What kind of monsters were waiting above?

The thought lingered, but he pushed it aside.

Right now, he only had one problem in front of him.

[Your sheer presence in my "void" stirs more than it ever has before.]

A long fissure cracked open across the Monarch's mask, stretching into a crooked smile.

[But you do not know anything. You wander blindly, pushing forward with fantasies that you will one day win.]

"…."

[Those fantasies carried you all the way here.]

[But in my void… there is no escape.]

Sam ground his teeth.

'Holy yapping,' he thought.

'If only I could get out of this.'

His body was partially free—his head and torso exposed—but his arms and legs were still sunk deep into the consuming substance.

No matter how hard he pushed or strained, the void swallowed everything, keeping him bound.

Still, being this close to the Monarch gave him a chance.

He had his skills.

And his primordial sword, clenched tightly in his grip, a lifeline that he would never let go of, no matter how many times he died.

His skills had evolved fully.

He could sense it in his bones.

Even this thing could be killed.

The Monarch's control over this place was absolute, but if Sam could carve out even a fragment of power for himself, if he could break through for just a moment, then he could tip the scales.

But he only had nine minutes left.

Nine minutes to escape or die forever.

[You seem stressed about something.]

The Monarch's voice grew amused, playful.

[Perhaps… you are waiting for something? Or is time slipping away?]

Sam inhaled sharply and steadied his voice.

"I can stay here for as long as I need—"

Crush! Revive!

His eyes snapped open, his body reforming in the same dark void.

"Seriously?"

[Had to see if your determination hadn't faltered yet.]

Sam's breath caught for a moment.

The Monarch wasn't even surprised.

That meant he already knew. He had seen this before.

Others like Sam, other Primordials, had been here, trapped just like this.

And every single one of them had failed.

[Your confused face is beautiful…]

"…?!"

Sam's eyes widened.

[Hell-Mode Analysis: Don't let this guy hold us any longer =(]

Crush! Revive!

The Monarch's mask tilted as if studying him.

[But the face you will make when you realize how hopeless your situation is will be even better.]

Crush! Revive!

The void repeated its cycle, killing him, reviving him, grinding down his will with each rotation.

[You are only as determined as you are because you are blind.]

Crush! Revive!

[Ignorance is bliss, after all.]

Sam's eyes flared red as he glared back.

'Keep talking.'

[So let's end this quickly, before you waste the rest of eternity listening to me.]

The Monarch raised a massive hand from the void and snapped its fingers.

Fwish!

Panels exploded into existence all around Sam, glowing faintly, each one shifting with text and images.

Sam ignored them. Instead, he gripped his primordial sword tighter and focused.

He still had one chance. He had one plan left. He would strike, no matter what.

Primordial Barrage! Mode: Turret!

A turret of primordial energy burst into life above his head, ready to rain destruction upon the Monarch.

But—

[This won't do.]

The fissure-smile disappeared from the Monarch's mask, replaced by cold disapproval.

The void convulsed.

Fwish… BOOM!

An explosion of crushing darkness erupted, slamming into Sam's body and piercing deeper.

[Your soul has been inflicted with "Nullification."]

["Primordial Barrage" will be impossible to use until the effect wears off.]

Sam gasped as the turret above his head broke apart into glowing fragments.

His attack was gone.

'Damn it!'

It was the second time.

The Pale Monarch had done the same before, snuffing out his [Primordial Wings].

Sam quickly opened his mental panel.

He needed to see what he was up against.

---

[Fear → Terror → Doom]

[Confusion → ??? → ???]

[Suppression → ??? → Nullification]

---

He exhaled slowly.

"Hm."

The progression was clear.

Nullification sat at the end of suppression, its strongest form.

It didn't just weaken him, it completely locked his skills away, leaving him unable to act.

Even with his immunity to most status effects, the Monarch bypassed everything by striking directly at his soul.

Sam had no training to resist this kind of power.

That made him vulnerable. Still, he fought.

Primordial Tendrils! Primordial Hellscape!

He tried everything, unleashing attack after attack.

But the void swallowed it all. One by one, his skills were nullified. Nothing worked.

'I only have [Primordial Clone] left.'

Sam's expression darkened.

'But… I can't use it yet.'

A gut feeling told him that the timing wasn't right. If he wasted it now, he'd regret it.

[Are you finished?]

The Monarch's voice dripped with amusement.

[Have all your skills been stripped away?]

Crush! Revive!

[Good. Then I can continue.]

The panels that Sam had ignored surged back into his view, larger, brighter, impossible to shut out this time.

Text and images rippled across them.

[The Forsaken Lords you faced were the lowest tier of our order.]

Sam's eyes narrowed, though his expression stayed calm.

He had already expected as much.

[Above them are us—the Monarchs. Five in total. Each one as powerful as the last. Each one who has slain countless Primordials.]

The fissure-smile cracked open again, wider than before.

[How glorious it was to watch them fall, after reviving hundreds of times… just as you are doing now!]

Sam's chest tightened, but he kept silent.

Still, something inside him stirred. Hatred. Deep, boiling hatred.

Ding!

[You have summoned a "Star of Hatred."]

The notification pulsed in the corner of his vision.

Sam ignored it, keeping his focus locked on the Monarch.

The being continued, voice steady and cruel.

[The Forsaken Lords govern the "Lower" Realm. We Monarchs govern the "Upper" Realm.]

Panels shifted, and seven familiar silhouettes appeared, the Forsaken Lords he had fought.

Beside them, five massive figures flickered into view, dwarfing the rest, their appearances hidden in shadows: the monarchs.

[And above us… are the ten Colossals. Guardians of the last realm.]

"You won't tell me the—"

Crush! Revive!

"—Name of the last realm?"

Sam's words cut through the void as his eyes burned crimson.

Ding!

[You have summoned a "Star of Hatred."]

[No. There is no use. You will remain here with me forever.]

Sam cursed under his breath.

"Damn."

[Even we lack much knowledge of what is above.]

[Only the strongest may glimpse that realm. Only the strongest may survive there.]

[But there is one truth we know, the one who stands above all. The one we call King.]

[He watches always, ruling over the last realm, and over the others in secret.]

Sam's chest pounded.

Even if the Monarch pretended ignorance, those words carried too much weight.

The King. The one who had toyed with him. The one who had orchestrated everything.

'The Monarchs… the Colossals… and the King.'

Sam's teeth clenched, his hands trembling as a crimson haze flared from his eyes.

His hatred burned hotter than ever.

[I killed many Primordials. You should simply join your "family."]

[Seriously.]

Crush! Revive! Crush! Revive!

The Pale Monarch killed him again and again, trying to wear down his will.

But Sam's resolve only grew sharper. The timer in his vision flashed.

[5 minutes left.]

Ding!

[You have summoned a "Star of Hatred."]

Sam's eyes locked onto the Monarch.

This was it. He had enough. He was going to end it now.