onwards is the way.

Honestly, I find myself utterly lost at this point. The last thing I recall was being embroiled in a fierce battle against two formidable adversaries—one wielding the fury of thunder, and the other shrouded in shadow. Yet, here I am once more, in a kneeling position. It appears that I'm perpetually kneeling these days. Initially, it was before the imposing presence of a throne's owner, and now, I can't even muster the strength to lift my head and discern the nature of the entity before me. Fate does seem to have a rather twisted sense of humor, doesn't it?

You must be wondering about my current location and the unfolding events. Well, let me attempt to elucidate, in a somewhat peculiar manner. I've received information, from whatever enigmatic entity or force currently guiding my path, suggesting that I'm not necessarily their adversary. However, they hold the reins of control entirely. If they were so inclined, they could obliterate me, and I would remain oblivious to their identity. It appears that some form of briefing or explanation is presently transpiring.

Given my current mental state, it's reasonably safe to assume that I've reached a breaking point. It's almost as if I've grown indifferent to it all. Senility has crept in, I suppose. But can you truly blame me, considering the overwhelming solitude that has enveloped me?

Moving on, following the events of the previous chapter, I received an announcement—an acknowledgment that I had successfully completed my first ascent. Subsequently, the environment around me underwent a substantial transformation, transporting me to a place seemingly detached from the confines of any known realm. At the very least, it exists far removed from the netherworld. It's in this enigmatic setting that I once again hear the voice.

"Wake up, Blake," it implores. "You've triumphed in your inaugural ascent. Out of the 2 billion denizens hailing from your home planet, only a select few, including yourself, have emerged victorious. Regrettably, the remainder—6 billion souls—have met their end. Yet, you've been granted a slender opportunity. Time is of the essence, so pay heed. Your home planet teeters on the brink of an impending invasion by an entity known as the Wrath Bearers. Ascending offers you a chance to champion the cause of your world's liberation. That's the most we can offer. Return to your planet and endure the impending ordeal. Should you manage to survive, your planet shall receive a reprieve, and all ascenders currently present will be afforded the prospect of a second ascent. This, you will find, is not so much an option as a necessity. The universe is an unforgiving expanse, and your solar system amounts to little more than a speck of sand in the vast desert of existence, or perhaps even less. You have time to grow stronger, for, to those already entrenched in power, you hold little value. That encapsulates the essence of your briefing.

You may now be contemplating the whereabouts of the voice within your thoughts or the purpose it serves. You might inquire about the very nature of ascent. The elucidation is rather straightforward. Ascenders are entrusted with the task of confronting trials within a domain referred to as the Netherworld. Presently, you are encountering but a semblance of this realm, not the actual Netherworld, albeit it carries the essence thereof. Your inaugural ascent comprised relatively simple objectives—dispatching 100 creatures and ascertaining your affinity, both of which you've accomplished. Moreover, you were required to adapt to heightened senses, a task complicated by your human constitution's fragility in the face of such alterations. To aid you, a system was provided, along with some assistance, and over the two months you've spent here, it has seamlessly merged with your being. While you will be capable of detecting the presence of other ascenders, it is conceivable to conceal one's own presence, contingent on the discrepancy in strength.

This arrangement essentially boils down to a straightforward exchange—combatants vie for supremacy, with the victor absorbing the essence of the defeated. The ultimate aim is to produce a single warrior capable of vanquishing a hundred adversaries, rather than having a hundred warriors fall to one. It adheres to the principle of survival of the fittest, as your species often articulates it. As your journey unfolds, you shall gradually grasp that, despite the harshness of the Netherworld and the rigor of its trials, it is not inherently unjust. It extends the same opportunity to every individual, regardless of age, condition, stature, or aptitude, to sculpt their own destiny. Recall the oath you once made to the king? 'Onwards, Blake. Onwards is the path.'"

So, there you have it—a whirlwind of revelations from the voice residing in my consciousness. It feels as though I've been thrust into a cosmic game, and the rules are progressively unveiled. What are your thoughts? Are you as confounded as I am by this turn of events?