Combat Slave Harem-Chapter 55: Third Order
[ Name: Egon Novos ]
[ Species: Human ]
[ True Name: He Who Devours The Reality ]
[ Rank: Walker ]
[ Soul Cores: Gaizar (2nd Order) ]
[ Main Skills: Soul Binder (lv-3), Heart Of Balance (lv1) ]
[ Auxiliary Skills: Overlord’s Martial Style ]
[ Unique Skills: Authority of The Taboo One.
[ Traits: Envy, The Omniscient Viewpoint ]
[ Luck Points: 3,550 ]
---
While looking at his stats, Egon went to his study, alone.
The study room was quiet sanctuary.
Beyond the estate walls, the muffled thunder of the siege and the rhythmic clatter of steel against bone persisted, but within these four walls, the air was calm.
A single lamp burned on the desk, its wick flickering as it cast long, dancing shadows over the maps of the fractured continent.
Egon closed the door behind him with a definitive click. He stood there for a long moment, allowing the silence to press against his ears, grounding himself after the frantic energy of the reunion..
His eyes suddenly sharpened with a predatory focus.
"Let’s begin," he whispered to the empty room.
He raised his right hand, his palm facing inward as he channeled the cold, hollow resonance of the Eternal Void.
The system responded with an immediate, crystalline chime. A crimson interface bled into his vision, unfurling like a curtain of digital blood.
[ Dimensional Merchant Activated ]
The space in front of the desk began to warp. A ripple moved through the air, distorting the light like heat rising from a summer road.
From that distortion, a silhouette materialized. It was an old man, his form hunched and draped in a cloak woven from shifting shadows. His face remained a mystery, hidden beneath a deep hood, but his presence felt ancient and heavy with the weight of countless worlds.
"So, You are the one who has caused such a stir," the silhouette spoke.
Egon narrowed his eyes, his posture tensed but not fearful. "You’re the Merchant?"
A faint, rattling chuckle echoed through the room. "Among many names, that is the one you may use for our transactions."
Egon crossed his arms. "You don’t look particularly trustworthy."
"Ha ha, Trust is a luxury for the weak, young Walker. Power, however, is a necessity. You have Luck Points. You have the access. So speak. What do you seek in this dying world?"
Egon didn’t hesitate. The time for caution had passed when the first rift opened.
"Strength," he said, the word coming out like a shard of ice. "I need power, and I need it fast."
The Merchant tilted his head, his hooded gaze seemingly piercing through Egon’s chest.
"Ah, desperation. I can smell it on your breath. It is a potent motivator."
"Call it whatever you want," Egon snapped. "Just show me the inventory."
The space around them shifted instantly. Countless rows of items flooded Egon’s vision, categorized into neat, shimmering lists. Weapons that sang with celestial light, potions that glowed with toxic brilliance, and forbidden artifacts that seemed to whisper in the back of his mind. Each carried a price in the currency of fate.
"Choose wisely, Walker. Luck Points are the blood of destiny. They are not easily earned."
Egon ignored the advice, his eyes scanning the lists with mechanical efficiency. He had no interest in flashy trinkets or long-term investments. He needed to raise his baseline immediately to survive the coming dawn. His eyes locked onto a specific section.
"Body Strengthening Elixir," Egon muttered.
Immedietly, a small vial manifested in the air before him, containing a thick, glowing crimson liquid that swirled with its own internal current.
"What is the price?"
"150 Luck Points per unit," the Merchant replied.
Egon did the math in a heartbeat. "Give me five."
The silhouette flickered, perhaps surprised by the decisive nature of the purchase.
"A wise choice. Building the foundation before reaching for the stars."
Five vials materialized on the desk with a series of soft thuds. Egon didn’t reach for them yet. He continued his search, his eyes moving toward the energy supplements.
"Mana Orbs. D-grade. I need ten of them."
"One hundred each," the Merchant said.
The ten small spheres joined the elixirs, each glowing with a condensed, blue energy. Egon paused then, his gaze shifting toward a different category altogether.
"I need something else. For my women."
The Merchant seemed genuinely amused now. "Oh? Our Rising Walker is looking to provide for his flock?"
Egon ignored the mockery. "This. I need A Soul Awakening Potion.."
Following his wish, Aanew bottle appeared, its contents shimmering with an iridescent light that seemed to pulse like a heartbeat.
"500 Luck Points," the Merchant stated, smiling
Egon didn’t even flinch.
"I’ll take it. And one more thing. I need a weapon suitable for a shadow-user."
"Very well."
The Merchant raised a spectral hand, and a blade formed out of thin air. It was sleek, dark, and utterly silent. It didn’t reflect the lamp light; it seemed to drink it, leaving a small void where it hung.
"Its the Shadow Sword, C grade. 30 Luck Points."
Egon smirked. It was perfect for her. "Done. Total it up."
"Your total comes to 2,550 points," the Merchant said.
Egon nodded, checking his internal balance. "That leaves me with an even thousand for emergencies."
"Correct," the Merchant replied. He leaned forward slightly, the darkness of his hood looming closer. "Spend your remaining days carefully, lad. The deeper you venture into this fractured narrative, the more expensive survival becomes."
Egon waved a dismissive hand. "I’ll manage. I’ve rewritten the script this far."
The silhouette began to dissolve into the shadows of the room.
"Of course you will. Until the Overseers decide to take the pen back."
The space collapsed, the interface vanished, and the room returned to its natural state.
Egon looked at the array of items on the desk. Five elixirs, ten mana orbs, the awakening potion, and the dark sword.
He exhaled a long, shaky breath, the weight of the coming battle settling on his shoulders.
"No time to waste," he whispered.
He grabbed the first elixir, uncorked it, and downed the contents in a single gulp. The moment the liquid hit his stomach, a violent surge of heat exploded through his system. His muscles tightened so hard he thought they might snap. His bones creaked under the sudden, forced density.
He gritted his teeth, his vision blurring, but he didn’t stop. He downed the second, then the third, stacking the effects until his body felt like it was being forged in a furnace.
By the fifth vial, veins were bulging beneath his skin, and his breathing was a series of ragged, pained gasps.
"Is that all?" he challenged the air.
He reached for the mana orbs, crushing them one by one in his palm. The blue energy burst outward in waves, but before it could dissipate, the vacuum of his Void Physique sucked it in. One. Three. Seven. Ten. Each orb fed the core at the center of his being, fueling the evolution that was already screaming to be finished.
His Soul Core pulsed with a violent, rhythmic throb. The air in the study began to vibrate, and the glass on the lamp cracked under the sudden pressure.
[ Soul Core Evolving... ]
Egon’s body froze. Every nerve ending flared with white-hot intensity. Then, a silent explosion of pressure rippled outward, snuffing out the lamp and sending the maps flying off the desk.
[ You have advanced to 3rd Order Soul Evolver ]
[ Your Main Skill: Soul Binder evolved to...
