"Seems like I overdid it." Muria muttered softly as he gazed at the beast below, its consciousness seemingly shattered.
To a being with an almost infinite lifespan like Muria, his time as an Epic was still relatively short, almost negligible. As a result, he had only theoretical knowledge of the capabilities possessed by beings of his rank and limited practical experience using them.
For instance, the degree to which an Epic's presence can corrode and assimilate their surrounding environment and other creatures. As Auston had mentioned earlier, mortals who utter an Epic's true name risk bodily collapse or immediate transformation into a monstrous entity. Most cases end in the former.
The likelihood of this diminishes as the power of the individual increases. For instance, beings who have reached extraordinary levels of power can resist bodily collapse when speaking an Epic's true name, but they would still be assimilated.
At the Legendary level, things are somewhat different. A Legendary being—provided they don't fear attracting the Epic's attention—can recite an Epic's name without much consequence. However, direct interaction with an Epic, such as viewing their true form or engaging in dialogue, still carries a high risk of assimilation, an irreversible process.
The deeper the contact with an Epic, the greater the risk of assimilation. Even a peak-level Legendary being interacting with a newly ascended Epic is at considerable risk of being overtaken.
However, once someone ascends to become an Epic, even the weakest among them no longer has to worry about being assimilated by others, regardless of contact.
Now, the beast below Muria had suffered precisely because it came into contact with him. Its strength was utterly insufficient to withstand even this brief exchange.
Notably, Muria hadn't actually done much to it—just drawn a sliver of his true self's gaze. Yet even this faint contact proved too much for the beast to bear.
But the creature's shattered consciousness didn't trouble Muria much. Despite the mental collapse, the physical transformation he had intended was still taking place.
The beast's bony scales and fur were shedding in large patches, its body writhing and contorting. Pale golden scales began to grow over its skin, replacing the fallen ones. On its back, two massive bulges swelled ominously.
Rip!
The bulges burst open, and a pair of skeletal, spiked wings unfurled dramatically. Though jagged and fierce in appearance, they added a certain regal quality to the creature that it had lacked before.
"Not bad," Muria remarked with approval as he observed the now-transformed beast.
What lay before him was far better than he had anticipated. Initially, he had only intended to find a creature to serve as a new material source for the humans' God Machines. The newly converted beast was perfect for the role.
The creature, formerly known as the "Father Beast," had lost its mind during the brief contact, but its body remained alive and had undergone a complete transformation. As a result, it now served as an ideal material source—powerful, resilient, and infinitely regenerating.
"The source material issue is resolved," Muria said as he stepped down from the containment structure, turning toward the stunned human leaders. "Now, draft a detailed plan for replacing all of your existing God Machines with new ones using this creature as the core material."
"Understood, Your Excellency. We will proceed immediately," one of the human leaders replied with a bow, his tone a mixture of awe and reverence.
…
"Lord Muria, what is the point of helping these humans?" Auston asked after returning from carrying out Muria's orders. The dragon seemed genuinely perplexed by Muria's actions.
"Do you think this is pointless?" Muria asked back, his tone laced with amusement as he observed the ancient red dragon.
"Of course not!" Auston quickly refuted, shaking his head. "I'm not foolish. I know that every action of an Epic has a purpose, even if it's beyond my understanding."
Muria nodded approvingly at Auston's response, his demeanor calm and composed. "Good attitude. If you can maintain this mindset, you might one day become a Dragon King."
Auston's eyes gleamed at the praise, but Muria continued before he could respond.
"My actions have a purpose, as you guessed. The world's will has awakened. It is watching us closely, observing our every move."
"Ah…" Auston stiffened at this revelation and instinctively prepared to cast a spell to shield their surroundings from prying eyes.
"Relax," Muria said, his tone reassuring. "The world's will observes what we do for its benefit. It does not care about our conversations, nor would it understand them even if it could listen. Besides, any spell you cast to block its senses would be futile. We are inside its body, after all."
"But couldn't you block it, Your Excellency?"
"I could, but there's no need," Muria replied with a faint smile. "Everything I do for the humans is to win the favor of the world's will while simultaneously strengthening it."
"I see." Auston nodded thoughtfully, though his expression still carried a trace of confusion.
"You say you understand, but do you really?" Muria asked with a raised brow, clearly unconvinced.
"Well… the world's will is essentially the collective consciousness of all living things within it, right? That includes humans, animals, plants, and even microorganisms.
"But in this world, after the god-beast invasion, there's been a mass extinction. Most remaining life is human. So by helping humans, you're directly influencing the will of the world."
"Not bad. Looks like you've been reading the right books," Muria said with a chuckle.
"Thank you, Your Excellency." Auston's chest puffed with pride at the praise, but his expression soon turned serious again. "But what's the point of gaining the world's favor? This place is so far gone. How could it possibly assist you in your fight against the god-beast's master?"
"The help it provides will be negligible, as you guessed," Muria admitted, his gaze fixed on the barren wasteland stretching before them. "I have no expectations of it helping in the battle."
"Then why go to such lengths?"
"I'm not preparing for the fight itself. I'm planning for what comes after."
"After?"
"You've lived over a thousand years, Auston. Stop thinking so short-term," Muria said with a soft sigh, shaking his head.
"I still don't understand," Auston confessed, frustration creeping into his tone despite his best efforts to stay composed.
"This small world has no extraordinary power. Its intelligent species rely solely on technological advancements. Because of this, its energy level is among the lowest of all worlds. That's why the god-beast chose it as a target."
Muria's explanation was calm and patient, but Auston still struggled to connect the dots.
"If I defeat the god-beast and its master, what state do you think this world will be in?" Muria asked after a moment of silence.
"At the very least, it will be even more damaged than it is now," Auston replied hesitantly. "It would take an incredibly long time to recover—if it even could."
"Exactly. And even if I fend off the god-beast, the world's natural cycles have already collapsed beyond repair. Without external intervention, its destruction is inevitable."
Auston's eyes widened in sudden understanding, his thoughts racing as the pieces finally clicked together.
"You plan to…"
"Don't say it," Muria interrupted, cutting him off with a sharp glance. Auston immediately shut his mouth, nodding silently.
"Now, let's focus on the task at hand. I'll give you a new mission."
"Please instruct me, Your Excellency."
"Don't you think this wasteland is rather unsightly? It's nothing but barren rock and sand—completely lifeless. Doesn't it offend your eyes?"
"Yes, it's quite unpleasant."
"Good. Then your task is to plant trees. Gather the dragons and begin planting immediately. Use the seeds I've cultivated in my demi-plane."
"I won't disappoint you," Auston said solemnly, fully understanding the significance of this seemingly trivial task.
"The more trees you plant, the better. I want this wasteland covered in greenery within a year."
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