Infinite Survival: My 10,000x Return System

The Grand Hall was locked in complete silence. Elder Vance’s headless corpse slumped forward as blood pooled around the polished mahogany table and dripped onto the marble floor.

At the head of the table, Arthur Sterling casually rested his mud stained boots inches from the severed head.

In his hand, the smooth black communication stone hummed violently. It projected a crisp blue hologram into the center of the room.

The figure was a young man with perfect features dressed in glowing silk. He looked down his nose with an expression of supreme arrogance.

"Elder Vance," the holographic Tristan sneered. "I assume you have secured the lower realm trash?"

Arthur leaned back in the ornate chair. He picked at a speck of blood on his fingernail and didn’t bother sitting up.

"Vance had a sudden drop in his life expectancy," Arthur said. "I am the new management. And as for your asset... she is no longer on the market."

Tristan’s perfect brows furrowed. The audacity of a mortal speaking to him in such a tone short circuited his brain.

"Who the fvck are you? Where is Sylvia Thorne? Listen to me, you mortal peasant. You will bring that runaway cauldron to the Vanguard Bastion ascension gate immediately, or I will personally descend and wipe your entire continent."

Arthur just smiled. It was a cold corporate smile like a shark smelling blood.

[Target Analysis: Tristan Blackwood.]

↳ Entity Type: Soul Projection.

↳ Cultivation: Peak Upper Realm Genius.

↳ Notice: The communication stone establishes a direct two way spiritual tether to the target.

[Would Host like to initiate a Proxy Bind?]

↳ Note: Proxy Bind allows the Host to temporarily siphon 1 percent of the target’s passive cultivation and insights.

"Bind him," Arthur commanded in his mind.

[Proxy Bind successful.]

[Siphoning 1 percent of target Tristan Blackwood passive cultivation...]

[10,000x ROI Multiplier Activated!]

Arthur’s breath hitched as a torrential flood of pure Apex Realm energy slammed into his Master Tier core.

His veins bulged and glowed with a faint gold beneath his skin. The newly formed Dimensional Breaker Physique hummed as it greedily devoured the excess energy. It densified his muscles and reinforced his skeletal structure to handle the absurd payload.

"Are you deaf, peasant?!" Tristan roared. His holographic face twisted into a mask of ugly rage. "I am Tristan of House Blackwood! I am a God to you! Bow your fvcking head when I speak!"

"God?" Arthur chuckled. "You are not a God, kid. You are a trust fund baby playing with daddy’s money. And right now? You are my personal battery."

Tristan’s eyes widened in absolute fury. No one in the Apex Realm dared speak to him this way, let alone a mortal from a livestock planet.

"Die, you piece of sh!t!"

Tristan thrust his hand forward. Even through a projection, the communication stone acted as a conduit.

A localized spear of spiritual energy shot out from the hologram, aiming directly for the center of Arthur’s forehead. It was an attack meant to instantly wipe a mortal’s consciousness from existence.

Arthur didn’t even blink. He didn’t draw the Ebonheart Sword. He just sat there.

As the attack connected, the crisp sound of the system chimed in his mind.

[Foreign Spiritual Attack detected.]

[Dimensional Breaker Physique passive activated: Absolute Reflection.]

"BOOM!"

The spiritual spear hit Arthur’s forehead and instantly shattered. It reversed its trajectory with twice the force and slammed back into the holographic projection, violently traveling up the tether.

On the other side of the connection, Tristan let out a bloodcurdling shriek.

The sound of bones snapping and a soul fracturing echoed through the hall before the communication stone in Arthur’s hand violently detonated and turned to fine black dust.

The projection blinked out of existence.

Arthur dusted off his hands entirely unbothered. "Meeting adjourned."

He looked down at the pile of ash left by the stone. Nestled in the center was a small glowing crystal pulsing with a faint spatial frequency.

[Item Acquired: Apex Coordinate Crystal.]

↳ Description: A spatial anchor dropped by a shattered Upper Realm tether. Can be used to track or open a gateway to the target origin point.

Arthur pocketed the crystal. Tristan wasn’t going to let this go.

A humiliated aristocrat with a fractured ego would throw a tantrum. He would send someone to wipe the planet clean just to soothe his pride.

’Let them come.’ Arthur thought. He needed the capital anyway.

He stood up and finally acknowledged the rest of the room.

The surviving Academy Elders were huddled in the corners of the Grand Hall, trembling like beaten dogs. They had just watched a man in beggar’s rags casually insult an Apex God, reflect a divine attack with his face, and shatter an artifact.

"Get out of my academy," Arthur said.

The elders scrambled over each other, slipping on Vance’s blood in their desperate rush to escape the hall. Within seconds, the massive room was empty save for Arthur and one other person.

Sylvia Thorne stepped out from the shadows near the grand double doors. Her silver combat uniform clung to her curves, and her glacial blue eyes were wide, fixed on Arthur.

She had watched the entire exchange. For centuries she had lived in absolute terror of the Apex Realm. Yet this man had just treated a Blackwood heir like a mildly annoying telemarketer.

Sylvia walked forward, her heels clicking softly against the marble. She didn’t stop until she was standing directly in front of him.

Slowly, the untouchable Arch-Mage of The Mortal Domain stepped closer. She felt an overwhelming urge to wrap her arms around him and seek the absolute safety of his embrace.

Instead, she stopped just inches away and gently grasped the fabric of his sleeve to anchor herself to him. She looked up into his eyes as her glacial blue gaze softened completely.

"Vanguard Commander," Sylvia whispered softly. "The Academy is yours to direct. I will follow your lead."

Arthur looked down at her hand on his arm and gave a calm nod.

"Good," Arthur said smoothly. "Keep the academy running. Keep the protagonist down there swinging his little wooden sword. I have a business trip to make."

"Where are you going?" Sylvia asked.

Arthur looked toward the massive windows. His gaze aimed far beyond the city limits toward the deadliest scar on the continent.

"I need a power spike before upper management arrives," Arthur smirked. "I am going to the Abyss."