A Novel Concept - He Who Eludes Death-Chapter 321: The Juggernaut’s Quintuple Tribulation

Charls dal Sallan turned toward the window as thunder rumbled in the distance. No lightning was visible on the horizon, but a cloud was rapidly rising from the ground to meet the sky. The Dal Cal Tower was collapsing, its foundation obliterated by several tons of explosives.

“It begins,” he said. Despite the defeat, the Baron stood tall, his demeanor unyielding. Turning to his son, he continued, “Time is short. You must leave.”

“Father, must I truly abandon the city?”

“As a Tier 3, I am bound here. If I do not survive the coming hours…” Charls gestured at the swarm of winged titans devouring every poorly hidden Arkanian in sight, “…I will not allow our lineage to perish alongside me.”

“But our bombs, our army—”

“These creatures are impervious to bullets. Our lasers and kinetic weapons are too scarce, and I won’t insult your intelligence by explaining why detonating nuclear bombs in the heart of our city is folly.”

“Then let us hide!” His son stepped closer, a pleading expression on his face. “Let’s lock ourselves in the bunkers like everyone else and wait for these creatures to lose interest.”

The evacuation sirens howled through the streets, urging citizens to rush to the nearest shelters. They were useful only to the blind; everyone else had already begun fleeing at the sight of undead monstrosities scouring the skies for fresh meat.

“Our private bunkers, at full capacity, have a week’s supply of water,” the Baron revealed. “After that, we’ll have to tap into the public reserves. Unfortunately, Dal Cal’s death has triggered his failsafes. Right now, our water supply is being contaminated with deadly drugs.” Charls felt a wave of exhaustion as he said those words—a side effect of defeat. “That worm has held us hostage with this plan for decades. His life in exchange for billions of our citizens. Integration into this new universe was our chance to thwart him. To that end, all Barons secretly stockpiled rainwater for months, but…”

Charls turned back to the window. Outside, a crimson drizzle was falling from the sky, tainting their rainwater reserves. The Baron didn’t need his scientists to confirm that the rain was likely more lethal than Dal Cal’s poison. Pedestrians touched by the droplets writhed in agony before rising in a frenzy. Charls watched as one unfortunate soul lunged at a child, tearing her face off with feral teeth. A nearby guard shot the attacker in the head, but it was too late for the child. “All that planning… wasted. What a travesty.”

“What will you do?” Leopol asked, seeing his father lost in thought.

“I will join a public bunker to guide our people. When the potable water runs out in a week, we’ll emerge. If fortune favors us, these creatures will have moved on, and we’ll rebuild.”

As he spoke, Charls felt helplessness seep into his bones. His enhanced instincts, bolstered by his racial Talent [MKX Flair], screamed that this chaos was just the beginning. Some players still had cards to play—among them, the Champions. No other notifications… Despite the Guild’s assurance, Cassandra had failed.

“Father—”

The Baron cut him off. “Andrey has gathered our most loyal subordinates. He will help you lead them.” Near the door, the family’s butler bowed in acknowledgment of the command. “I will send new instructions as soon as I am able. Now go. Survive, no matter the cost.”

Leopol swallowed hard, bowed deeply, and left, leaving the Baron alone with his thoughts. Once he sensed the last spirit departing the building, Charls sat at his desk, opened a drawer, and retrieved ink, a quill, and paper.

“To King Prometheus,” he began to write.

If the corrupted army chose to stay, Arkana would fall. It was Charls’ duty to ensure his civilization did not vanish entirely.

Priam dodged a pterodactyl-like beast, then weaved through a swarm of bat-like creatures, each the size of a minivan. Some enemies were too fast or too numerous to avoid entirely. Promesse pierced two giant eagles, while Pyro incinerated a cloud of insects, clearing the way.

A vast gray expanse loomed ahead: the cumulonimbus hovering above the city. Priam plunged into the cloud, using his control over the dense mist to lose his pursuers. Most peeled off quickly, turning their attention to prey that wasn’t flying at Mach 3.

Priam’s sheer speed was staggering. At such velocities, even a minor turn would knock an untrained pilot unconscious. Behind him lay the remnants of the sound barrier shattered in his wake.

A kilometer per second—still far insufficient to escape Proxima’s grasp. His add-on had calculated the local escape velocity at over twenty kilometers per second. In the planet’s atmosphere, Priam struggled to reach even half that. Unlike a bullet, he could accelerate continuously, but even then, he fell short of reaching the first space velocity.

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High in the atmosphere, new problems emerged. The Champion could no longer siphon thermal energy from the surrounding gases with his kinetic mastery to fuel his propulsion. Unwilling to burn through his aether reserves by powering [Phoenix Wings], Priam had been forced to abandon his dream of triggering his Tribulations in space.

“Next time,” he grinned, continuing his ascent.

Leaving dark shapes and shadows behind, the young man finally emerged from the cloud. A blue sky stretched endlessly above him, and he continued to climb. The feeling of leaving the madness of war behind made him laugh as, deep down, he knew he was about to unleash even greater havoc.

The temperature dropped as oxygen grew scarce. Priam continued to extract heat from the molecules within his Domain to fly higher. When the sky turned pitch-black, he finally stopped. Beneath him, clouds looked like weather charts, and rivers resembled blue ribbons.

Priam took a moment to observe his surroundings. Nearly a thousand kilometers up, he was at the edge of Proxima’s atmosphere—the exosphere. A few rare gas particles drifted lazily within his sphere of authority, just enough to keep him stationary without expending aether. Breathing was impossible, and he could feel his cells fighting against the radiation from the star around which the planet orbited.

A grin spread across his face as his hearts beat with exhilaration. Moments like this justified everything—the sacrifices, the pain, the endless battles. That was why Priam wasn’t hating the Concepts and the forced integration of his civilization.

How many humans, both young and old, had dreamed of the stars? Humanity’s passion had driven them to conquer space as early as the mid-20th century, despite the lack of practical benefits. If Priam wasn’t the first human to journey into this vastness, he was the first to do so unaided. The first to commune directly with infinity, without a spacesuit.

Pyro’s spark, inside the soul of the Juggernaut, was alight with joy. Right here, right now, Priam Azura was not just a warrior, a mage, or a survivor. He was an explorer.

[He Who Eludes Death] charge: PRIMED.

The System’s notification seized his attention. It’s time.

His safety belt was operational again; the break was over. Soon, Elysium’s laws would reclaim him—assuming he survived his quintuple Tribulation.

Priam cast a final glance at the world below. Somewhere far beneath him, Jasmine was pursuing her own quest, and the Arkanians were grappling with catastrophe. To his right, a continent loomed in the distance. Over there, Kazuki and Hyshana were likely rallying their people against the Var Elegis, leading them in the battle. Across Proxima, millions were struggling to survive. How many of them were even aware that an event poised to shape their lives was unfolding above their heads?

Thanks to [Ciphered Record], the answer was precious few. That suited Priam just fine. Among those who knew, even fewer had the means to interfere with his Tribulations. That was half the reason for his current isolation.

The other half stemmed from the nature of the Tribulations themselves. Thanks to Back in Time, an amazing survival reward, Priam had caught a glimpse of the coming ordeal and had spent entire days devising ways to triumph. One strategy had crystallized: he needed to place himself in an environment so hostile that the physical aspects of the Tribulations would struggle to unleash their full arsenal here. Contrary to what an observer might assume, initiating them in space wasn’t just some whimsical stunt.

The ocean depths would’ve been my first choice, but with the Necromoon around, that’s asking for trouble. Priam tried to take a steadying breath and failed due to the lack of air. Well, no point in dragging this out.

Opening Concepts Archipelago to draw a final deep breath, Priam retrieved two items. The first was a Mythic Gift, once used during the erased timeline to shield Sphinx from Sumstreh’s fury. The second was half the core of the Fallen, infused by Thaal with the essence of a High Tribulation and tailored to his soul. An ideal trophy to temper one of his gates with Heavenly Dragon.

“Good luck,” his phoenix mentor said.

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Priam simply smiled as he closed the rift. He had spent over a thousand hours training for this quintuple Tribulation. The moment was upon him, and to the warrior’s surprise, fear had deserted his hearts. All that remained was exhilaration—a primal thrill to defy his rivals and shake the world to its core.

Deep within, Priam harbored no modest ambitions. He knew his potential to ascend to the Zenith and intended to seize it—or die trying. His thirst for freedom and adventure demanded nothing less.

Driven by his competitive spirit and unshakable self-belief, Priam opened his menu.

[Tribulation]: Tribulations are coming.

Time: 132 days 0 hour 28 minutes 25 seconds.

Would you like to trigger your Tribulations?

Yes!

The universe froze, as though an omnipotent force had hit pause. Just like in the erased timeline, the System was descending to test him. Unlike the last time, Priam was ready.

Reality exhaled as a figure materialized less than ten meters away. The Juggernaut observed the one the Concepts had summoned to defeat him. Kazuki had had Taishi; Priam now faced his own nemesis.

The Champion grinned at the sight of his familiar adversary gasping for air.

“I’m coming,” Priam vowed, summoning a dozen protective runes. Drawing inspiration from his battle against Clock, he crafted a defensive cage around himself, tethering it directly to his vast reserves of aether.

As a powerful illusion captured his mind, Priam activated his Mythic Gift. While the first two Tribulations summoned a mental demon to obliterate his sense of self, a mythical shield materialized to safeguard his body. The two defenses overlapped, coalescing to form a bulwark capable of repelling even a fully powered Breath.

Priam had learned from his previous attempt. A simultaneous assault on his body and psyche wouldn’t succeed this time.

His nemesis studied the fortifications for a moment before shifting his attention to the planet’s surface.

“I’ll wait for you,” their lips whispered despite the lack of air.

Then, they dove toward Proxima.

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