CHAPTER 1165: WEIGHTS

Erend stiffened and his breath tightening as if a cold hand pressed against his lungs.

"I want to stop him... of course I do," he said. "But I don’t know how. Or why any of this even started. Zerathul absorbed Krono now so he has Time power. He’s been manipulating things from behind the scenes without anyone noticing until now. And now..." His throat closed. "Arty might be in danger because of that."

Veyrun remained silent for a moment. The shifting symbols across his body dimmed as if sharing Erend’s fear. Then he spoke softly.

"I am sorry for what has happened to you, for what has happened to all of this. But you must act, Erend. Zerathul will not stop until he reaches what he desires."

Erend steadied his breathing. "What does he actually want?"

Veyrun’s overlapping voices answered as one. "Based on what we know—what all fragments of the System understand—Zerathul seeks to spread his influence across many worlds. He intends to anchor his necromantic power into every plane, until all living beings are bound to him as slaves. His goal is dominion. Absolute dominion."

Horror moved through Erend’s body. It feels sharp and icy. He already knew Zerathul was dangerous but hearing it given shape and clear purpose now made his stomach twist.

He remembered the ruined world he had visited, the king he met there who had been twisted into a mass of flesh yet still conscious and still suffering endlessly.

His hands shook. "If he does that to all of them... to everyone I know..."

He couldn’t even imagine it. The worlds and people he loved twisted into grotesque remnants of life like the king...

"I understand how you feel," Veyrun said with a quieter tone that sounds almost human. "Worry and fear is part of your design. But right now, among all connected worlds, you are the only one with the capacity to act. We will aid you as much as possible but our capabilities have limits."

Erend shut his eyes for a moment and forced a deep breath into his lungs. If he let fear crush him, he would break.

He needed to focus, not on the weight of countless worlds at once, but on the next step he could take.

"Okay," he said, lifting his gaze. "What can you do for me?"

Veyrun nodded, and the symbols swirling across his form brightened, as though confirming Erend’s resolve.

"First, I will tell you the difference in power between you and him. Your current level is 970. That is already extraordinarily high."

Erend blinked. Shock flickered through him. He hadn’t checked his status window in so long that he hadn’t realized he had climbed so far.

"But," Veyrun continued, "Zerathul’s level is 1,550. If you fight him now, you cannot win alone."

The number hit Erend like a punch to the chest. The gap was enormous and absurd. Even with his full Dragon transformations, his powers and experience, it wasn’t enough.

"You cannot reach that level in time before Zerathul enacts his plan," Veyrun said. "So we will provide assistance."

Erend straightened. "What kind of assistance?"

"We will grant you a significant amount of bonus EXP. And more importantly..." The room darkened, symbols spiraling around them like a vortex. "We will open the Dungeon World for full access to you and your allies. You will be able to enter freely to train, grow, and prepare."

Erend’s eyes widened. "All of them? Even Captain Adrien and Billy and the others?"

"Yes. You will not face this alone. The Dungeon World will become your proving ground. Your battlefield of preparation."

Light flared behind Veyrun, and a new system prompt flickered into existence. Not just in Erend’s eyes but floating in the room.

[Dungeon World Large Access: Activated]

[Bonus EXP Distribution: Pending User Confirmation]

Veyrun’s voice lowered. "This will be the beginning of your and your allies’ rise."

Erend gritted his teeth. A part of him wanted to feel relieved because of that more EXP, full Dungeon World access for his friends, and that meant a chance to grow stronger together.

A few hours ago, he would have felt grateful. Maybe even excited.

But now... none of it felt like enough when Zerathul was that far ahead. Not when the gap between them was wide enough to swallow hope whole.

If Erend wanted to kill Zerathul, he would need far more than numbers. He would need power that could break that being.

He tightened his fists. He would have to work harder than ever before.

"Do you have any idea when he’ll take action again and what he will do?" Erend asked.

Veyrun’s form flickered, symbols distorting for a moment as if struggling with incomplete fragments of data.

"Based on what he has done so far, we can form predictions," he answered, his voice layered and uncertain. "But predictions are not truth. What he will do next cannot be fully known. You must search for clues on your own."

Erend swallowed the frustration rising in his throat. He understood, he truly did. The System was no longer whole. Veyrun was only a piece of something greater that had been broken and scattered. Expecting perfect answers would be foolish.

Still... he wished things were different.

He exhaled slowly, forcing his thoughts back under control, dragging his mind away from spiraling worries. He didn’t have the luxury of drowning in that.

"Fine," he said curtly. "I just need to focus on this right now."

Veyrun remained still, waiting.

Erend lifted his head again. "Look, I’m going to need more than this. Sorry. I don’t mean to sound shameless, but I need more firepower if I’m going to strike down Zerathul."

"I understand," Veyrun replied. "But as I have said, our limits are real. The shards cannot create miracles. However..." The symbols on his form shifted into an emerald hue. "The Elves may be able to provide something."

Erend nodded slowly. "So they have something. Alright."

He hesitated before asking the next question. "What about other Dragonborn? Can you find them?"

"We cannot access or locate them for now," Veyrun said. "They have hidden themselves well. Without Krono’s power, our sight is restricted. Most worlds beyond this point are obscured."

Erend’s chest tightened at the mention of Krono. He forced himself to ask anyway. "Can we save Krono?"

Silence stretched for a beat before Veyrun answered. "It is not impossible. But it will be difficult. You must weaken Zerathul first. Only then can you attempt to separate Krono from him. That process will be dangerous."

At least there was hope. Thin, fragile, and nearly impossible, but it was hope.

"Alright," Erend said, stepping back. "Then I’ll go. We don’t have time to waste."

Veyrun nodded. "More information about the worlds and the greater structure will be revealed when the time comes."

"I don’t care about anything not connected to this problem right now," Erend said sharply. "The rest can wait."

Veyrun accepted this without argument. His form pulsed once, then dissolved into a cascade of symbols and light.

Reality warped around Erend again. Not like a portal he stepped into, but like a force sucking him outward through a tightening corridor.

In an instant, he was back.

The backyard of his home unfolded around him as if none of what had just happened had taken place.

Erend gritted his teeth again harder, as if the pressure alone could keep him from collapsing under everything he now carried.

The weight of the many worlds on his shoulder wasn’t metaphorical. It pressed on him with a terrifying clarity.

He couldn’t let his mind wander into useless thoughts. Fear, doubt, panic did not matter for now. What mattered was action.

Step by step. One thing at a time.

"Alright..." he muttered to himself, clenching and unclenching his fists. "First... I need to go home. I need to talk to Mom."

He couldn’t drag her into this war, but he couldn’t leave her in the dark either—not completely.

At the very least she needed to know he would be gone again and would not let anything happen to Arty.

He took a long breath, trying to calm the storm inside, then looked toward the house.

—

The next morning, after finally getting real sleep Erend woke with a strangely steady mind.

The dread was still there, lurking quietly, but his determination burned hotter.

He headed downstairs and the smell of his mother’s cooking filled the small house. Simple, comforting, and familiar.

His mother placed a plate in front of him and smiled.

"Eat first," she said. "Then you can go wherever you need to go."

Erend didn’t argue. He ate in silence, grounding himself in the warmth of home.

After he finished, he stood, then opened a small dimensional rift behind him.

"Mom," he said quietly, turning back to her. "I’ll be back soon and bring Arty here again."

She nodded. She didn’t ask questions. She just watched with quiet strength, just like always.

Erend stepped through the portal.

—

He emerged in the familiar dimness of his quarter at the military facility. The room was exactly as he left it.

Then he pushed the door open and walked down the corridor.

Erend kept walking until he reached the familiar office.

He reached for the door handle and pushed it open.

—