The sound of the hammer on metal echoed dully in Ash's ears. Impassively, he looked the half-finished blade over before tossing it into the pile beside him.

  On any other day he'd have spent the rest of the evening sharpening and polishing his stack of rough blades, but today wasn't ordinary.

  Today's the day I rid myself of this shackle.

  He was about to gather the unfinished weapons in his arms and move to the building across the street when he heard the door crash open.

  "Where is he? I want to see the wretch that's producing nothing but failures!" A loud and obnoxious voice yelled into the smithy. Several of the other slaves around Ash flinched in fear, but Ash only sighed in resignation.

  A pair of hands grabbed the collar of his raggedy shirt and lifted him into the air.

  [Morion Vain - Level 7]

  Ash's disdain for the portly man grew every time he was forced to lay eyes on the fat pig. But he didn't dare express that hatred, as he knew it would only result in a beating. Or worse.

  "Is something the matter, honorable master?" He asked, using every sliver of willpower he had to keep himself from spitting on the disgusting face next to his own.

  "I want to know why the Rare crafter I paid for is only producing garbage!"

  "I'm sorry, sir. I never learned how to make anything complicated-" He didn't get to finish his statement before he was thrown into his anvil.

  As he winced in pain and steadied himself against the iron lump Morion spat on him, "You have a Rare class. That should be more than enough to produce quality!"

  I can only produce junk when all you give me is junk, you fatass pig!

  Despite spending a large sum of money on a slave with a Rare crafting class, Morion Vain was too stupid to realize that the quality of a crafted item was tied more to the quality of the materials used to make it than the rarity of the crafter's class. And the worst part was that he was far too arrogant to ever take a slave's words to heart.

  "I'm sorry sir. I'll try harder."

  "Hmph. What a waste of money. I can't believe I let that bandit rip me off like this. Last time I trust unruly filth…" Morion walked out of the workshop, and Ash couldn't help but feel his eyes gravitate toward the pouch at his waist.

  The key to Ash's freedom was in that pouch. He'd heard the fat pig boasting of it one night when he'd been forced to serve dinner to a guest.

  No, don't get distracted. Don't allow yourself to seem like you want anything. If they suspect something it'll all be over.

  Ash took a minute to catch his breath and check his condition. Morion didn't bother pulling his punches with anyone, so Ash needed to be sure the buffoon hadn't accidentally cracked or broken one of his ribs. Despite the oaf not having worked for a single one of his levels, he was still 5 levels higher than Ash. And being thrown into an anvil hurt.

  Ten minutes later he felt like he was ready to get back to work. He picked up his blades and headed for the door.

  His plan for the night was simple. He'd discovered a gap in the camp's defenses that he could exploit. All he had to do was get to Morion at night and nab the key to his escape and he'd been good to go.

  Maybe I can stick the pig too while I'm at it.

  Pushing the door open with his shoulder, Ash stepped out into the pathway between ramshackle huts. He tried to push his way into the line of slaves but stopped when he realized the line was standing motionless.

  "Excuse me," Ash tried asking the slave next to him to move. He didn't care for another beating on such an important day.

  "Look," The malnourished slave said, pointing to the dark evening sky.

  Ash looked as instructed, though he didn't expect anything particularly noteworthy. Slaves tended to be wowed by the most inconsequential things.

  Except the thing in the sky wasn't inconsequential. It was Death, and none of the poor fools around him knew it.

  No. Not again. How could it possibly have found me?

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  What looked like a red comet streaked through the sky, leaving a dazzling trail of what looked like dazzling crimson fireflies in its wake. But unlike a comet it didn't follow a straight path. It veered at sharp angles like a hinge, following a guidance nobody on the ground understood.

  But with every second that passed the light of the comet grew brighter, closer.

  Ash forced himself to turn away from the impending doom in the sky. He'd come too far, experienced too much sadness and suffering to simply give up now. He survived before, he'd survive again. This time without anybody to help him.

  He bent down and jiggled the weighted shackle that kept him and every other slave from being able to get very far if they ran. Something clicked on the inside and it fell away, leaving him free of its weight.

  If I hadn't already been prepared… No, don't think about that. Move.

  He grabbed the slave next to him and shouted, "The master! Where did the master go?"

  The slave dumbly pointed down the pathway toward the fat pig's residence. Ash released him and started sprinting. He ran as hard as he could, desperate to catch up to the only chance he had of survival.

  He turned a corner and saw the fat man, evidently too slow to have gotten home, staring dumbly at the sky like the slaves around him. Ash tried to make a break for the man, but the comet fell from heaven at that moment.

  The light of the fading sun was still barely visible in the west. The comet fell to the east, and when it impacted the earth below it created a red glow as bright as three sunrises.

  Light illuminated both ends of the sky, an unnatural occurrence that heralded the descent of something this world could not possibly bear the brunt of.

  The divine beast Ixhalda had come to play.

  At the beast's impact the world lurched out from under Ash before coming back up to slam into him. He tried to get back to his feet, but the intense rumbling of the earth beneath made it nearly impossible.

  A wave of sound shattered the windows of the compound and burst Ash's eardrums as Ixhalda's shriek rolled over the world.

  Glass rained down on him as he desperately tried to stand, but a flare of light from the east distracted him. In that space between breaths he accepted that had was about to die.

  A burst of crimson energy plowed through the compound faster than an arrow released from a bowstring.

  It took a few seconds for Ash to return to his senses and realize he wasn't dead. The burst of energy had missed him by a hair's breadth.

  Only meters away from him the world was a burning wasteland. Half of the compound was simply gone, reduced to flame and ash in an instant.

  Ash felt despair grip his heart. Though he'd survived, the blast of energy had evaporated Morion Vain and the street upon which he'd stood.

  Then amid the red flames, black charred wood, and white ash and bone, he saw a tiny flash of blue. And he felt he could see the thread that could maybe, just maybe, save him from this cruel fate.

  With reckless abandon, he got to his feet as best he could and pushed himself forward. Into the fiery hellscape he leapt, and even as the fires of damnation burned away his skin he ran.

  The small glimmer of azure light sat next to the obliterated remains of what Ash could only assume had been Morion Vain. Even as the scent of burned flesh, both his own and his former master's, filled his nose he held up the key to survival.

  [Rift Seed]

  The dormant seed of a rift. Saturate with mana to cause the seed to germinate.

  Mana absorbed: 0/1500000

  Ash felt his heart drop. Nobody had told him the seed required so much mana, only its wondrous uses.

  He felt a tear roll down his cheek before it evaporated to steam in the hellish environment around him. Pushing the little mana he had into the small orb, he prayed upon a miracle.

  [Notice]

  Mana absorbed: 150/1500000

  Rift seed saturation incomplete. Risk of instability: Extreme.

  Approximate time before rift dematerializes if allowed to germinate in this state: 14 seconds.

  Germinate the seed? (Yes/No)

  He'd wanted a gateway to another world, but his insufficient mana made that an impossibility. What use would a rift that collapsed almost instantly be? There would be nothing of value, no other gateways to flee to and escape this living nightmare.

  A memory returned to him unbidden.

  'Be careful not to fall off. Those who fall into a rift's abyss are usually ground to mincemeat and tossed into space.'

  'Usually?'

  'You catch onto everything, don't you? These are only rumors, mind you, but I've heard stories that people very rarely survive the ordeal, and that those who do find themselves trapped in a place halfway between this life and the next. A place of lost souls, shattered dreams, and broken worlds.'

  Germinate the seed? (Yes/No)

  Yes.

  The seed shattered into motes of light that coalesced into a gateway beside him. He took one last look towards the crimson horizon.

  Ash almost thought he could see the form of that living calamity, the astral dragon's black scales and seven burning eyes. The hallmarks of desolation. But no, he could not possibly see the divine beast from this distance. It was simply another memory returning to him unbidden.

  A gathering of energy on the eastern horizon signaled Ash that it was past time to step through the gate. Taking a deep breath, he stepped through the shimmering portal into the unknown.

  He found himself in a void of hazy light blue matter on all sides. Behind him was the gate, still shimmering as though it would sputter out at any second.

  Ash looked down and realized the only solid feature in the entire rift was the small platform he was standing on, barely large enough to fit both of his feet. All he had to do was step forward.

  It took a great deal of willpower to steel himself, even knowing he only had one choice. Back through the gate was certain death. Waiting would cause the rift to collapse in on him, which meant certain death. And taking a step forward was almost certain death.

  Even knowing his will likely made little difference, he resolved himself to survive.

  Ash took a step forward and fell into the space between dimensions, leaving the world of Vorillion IV to be wiped from the sky.

  Divine Beast profile: Ixhalda.

  Tier 9 Calamity Class.

  A black dragon which burns all that invoke its ire to cinders.

  Ixhalda has seven eyes, three on each side of its head with one in the direct center. It propels itself forward with flame exhausts located along its rear legs, spine, and tail. It is said it soars across the sea of stars on its obsidion wings with as much ease as other dragons soar across the sky.

  Perhaps the most notorious divine beast of the modern era, Ixhalda is called the planet-scourge on account of its destruction of the planet Ascadion, less than a decade ago. The underlying factors of this incident are still unknown, but it is believed that something happened to drive the dragon insane.