Re: Tales of the Rune-Tech Sage

Chapter 354: Paradox of Interplanar Conquest

CH354 Paradox of Interplanar Conquest

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Like all laws, the Temporal Law—Time itself—was influenced by a realm’s distance from the centre of the universe.

The closer a realm was to that cosmic centre, the slower time flowed. Conversely, the further it was, the faster its time moved relative to those inner realms.

Using Pangea as a reference point, time in all realms further away from the centre flowed faster than it did in Pangea.

In fact, a realm’s time dilation ratio compared to Pangea was often used to gauge its strength. This ratio was one of the key parameters embedded within the Interplanar Eye, serving as a reliable method of determining a world’s Class and power ceiling.

However, whether this time dilation was considered a blessing or a curse depended entirely on perspective.

Time was absolute and indiscriminate. It flowed equally for all within its influence—whether one was a denizen of a lower realm, or a visitor from a higher plane.

If a being from a stronger world descended into a weaker one, they would still age according to the time flow of the realm they entered. And vice versa, if they ascended to a higher, slower world, their aging would slow as well.

In other words, while conquering a weaker world could bring immense profit to Pangea’s denizens, they always had to weigh that profit against the cost of time.

A truly weak world might experience time at a ratio of 1 to 10 relative to Pangea—one day in Pangea equating to ten in that lesser world.

That meant that if an expedition took one Pangean year to conquer such a world, the expeditionary force would have experienced a full ten years on the other side.

From Pangea’s perspective, a group of soldiers would have been gone for only five years—but they would return looking fifty years older. That was the hidden tax of time.

While higher cultivation could extend lifespan, there was a limit to how much could be replenished—and only after breakthroughs in rank. Thus, interplanar conquests were often a direct exchange of lifespan for resources, an exchange that the more powerful professionals were increasingly unwilling to make.

At lower levels, cultivation required only the absorption of energy. There were countless methods Pangeans used to elevate the quality of their absorbed energy even across planes.

But things changed drastically from the Saint Realm upward.

Beyond that threshold, the very quality of laws, rules, and concepts determined one’s strength. Those who grasped simpler, weaker concepts could never compare to those who comprehended purer, more complex laws.

Almost always, a lower-Class realm possessed weaker, diluted, or fragmented concepts, rules, and laws compared to higher-Class worlds.

This made it unwise for a Pangean expert to attempt a breakthrough from Sainthood while residing in such lesser realms. Doing so would effectively cripple their potential, anchoring them to an inferior law and cutting off their path to true mastery.

If that wasn’t already bad enough, the higher one climbed on the path of cultivation, the slower progress became. Each breakthrough demanded exponentially more time, resources, and enlightenment. And the longer one lingered at a bottleneck, the harder it became to replenish lifespan lost in the pursuit of power.

Thus, while an interplanar conquest—or prolonged stay—could serve as a boon for lower-ranked professionals, it was rarely beneficial for those of higher standing.

Time was the true currency of interplanar conquest.

This single truth shaped the strategy of Pangea’s nobility. It was why they so often chose to steamroll through lower realms with overwhelming force, crushing resistance in a single campaign rather than pursuing slower but more stable economic or technological takeovers.

It wasn’t about pride—it was mathematics. A cold equation balancing profit against lifespan.

Now, Alex faced the same decision.

What method should he use to approach the denizens of the realm he was heading into?

Personally, he leaned toward the economic and technological route. It was quieter, cleaner, and—if managed properly—mutually beneficial. It would allow for long-term sustainability and potentially greater profits with minimal bloodshed.

But there was one glaring cost.

Time.

Could he truly justify consuming decades—or even centuries—of his companions’ lifespans just to achieve a peaceful assimilation of a foreign realm?

The question gnawed at him.

Then, as always in moments of uncertainty, the deep, authoritative voice of Earl Drake Fury echoed within his mind.

---

”Never forget, Alex. Interplanar Conquest is not a game.”

Earl Drake’s voice echoed from memory—calm, and a bit prophetic.

”You are smart, yes, but never allow yourself to grow complacent. Define your goals and remain steadfast in them. The journey you are about to embark upon will test your very core—it will force you to reconsider who you are, and who you wish to become.

”To be born in this plane, in this era, is to be bound by fate to interplanar conquest. It is a path every true powerhouse must tread. In the books I’ve given you, you will find the accounts of countless campaigns. You will learn how cruel interplanar conquest truly is. Yet the truth remains—without the wealth plundered from weaker planes, the Virellian Empire, the Arun Continent, and even the greater Pangea plane itself would never have risen to such heights of power.

”When one truly begins to conquer worlds—when they see the reality of it all—they will inevitably reach one of two extremes.

”Some begin to question the point of it all—the endless deaths, the massacres, the suffering. They start to pity their enemies, forgetting that those from other planes, unless subjugated, will one day be the ones invading us.

”Others accept the killings as natural. They embrace the slaughter until they become numb to it.”

Earl Drake’s tone hardened.

”Contrary to what you might think now, the choice is not simple—not until you step through an interplanar gate yourself. If you do not wish to be changed against your will... if you don’t wish to look in the mirror one day and fail to recognise the man staring back, then you must be certain. Certain of who you are. Certain of what your goals are. And certain of how far you are willing to go.

”This... is the only way to survive the trial of interplanar conquest. Only then can one emerge as a true powerhouse.”

---

The words lingered in Alex’s mind—not just as a memory, but as a warning from a man who had already walked that path.

He hadn’t even stepped through an interplanar gate yet, and already, he stood at a crossroads—one that would define not just his own fate, but that of everyone who followed him... and those who lived in the world he was about to invade.

Would he become like the rest of Pangea’s nobility—like his father—choosing the quick, bloody path of conquest, plunging a realm into chaos simply because its lands were rich in resources... and weak?

Or would he uphold the ideals that built the Golden Palace?

Mutual benefit. Win-win. Progress through cooperation, not domination.

His gaze drifted to a polished metal jar on the table. Within its glossy surface, he caught his own reflection.

”Who am I?” he murmured. ”How far am I willing to go?”

The easy way... or the hard one? The obvious... or the obscure?

He didn’t know how long he stayed like that—staring, thinking, doubting.

Minutes turned to hours.

When he finally blinked, Alex let out a quiet, self-deprecating chuckle.

He’d never imagined that answering such obvious questions could be this difficult.

**(4/70)**