The Fool's Freedom

The climb up was not as humiliating as Alan had assumed. She simply tied him to herself with ropes of blood and let him climb on his own. Alan was silently thankful that this time around she had shown some consideration for his manly ego, although the blood still felt weird. It was more effective than a regular rope because of the absolute control she had over it, but it was creepy.

At the very least this solution put an end to Xil’s mocking.

Alan found it quite difficult but also somewhat fun. Rock climbing had never been something he had tried back on Earth. His new physique was allowing him to do things that were probably impossible for most regular human beings. Finding the right support was quite the challenge and he slipped and fell a few times, only for the blood wrapped around him to gently stop him from becoming a splatter. Zirida didn’t seem like it posed any trouble to her as she deftly if somewhat slowly crawled up using her claws of blood and newly created spikes that were protruding from her shins and feet.

“So what happened back there?” Zirida suddenly asked from above.

Alan struggled to get a grip on a protruding rock and finally did with a sigh of relief as he pulled himself up. “What do you mean?”

“Why did they hear us?” She had stopped climbing a few meters above and was waiting for him to catch up.

“The skill has a range. The rock fell beyond that range so…”

“Ah. Then you canceled it just in time to see if there would be sound? Nice reaction. Things would have been much more difficult if we didn’t know they had sensed us.”

“Yeah… Got lucky,” Alan finally closed on Zirida’s position and she kept climbing with ease.

“Don’t take credit for my amazing work you scumbag! You humans are all the same, you –”

“You are right, sorry. I will tell the cleric of an unknown blood god that it was all the work of a trapped demon I carry in my bag. The world needs to know about how amazing you are. Maybe they won’t exorcise you or chop off your head? What happens to demons in the hands of religious nuts again? You mentioned something but I need a refresher.”

There was a pause.

“Maybe I’ll forgive you… this time.” Xil mumbled.

“That’s what I thought.”

It took them about an hour to reach a wide enough ledge on which Alan laid down. His body was burning yet again and mana wasn’t doing anything to help. A small gulp from the curse did alleviate some exhaustion. He focused on the connection and saw the river of energy that was the life of the large parasite. It was almost half gone, which was bound to affect the monster on some level. Probably. He didn’t know much about the physiology of the parasites.

I have to create more marks and curse stuff. Imagine if I could get at that dragon.

The thought was insane and Alan wasn’t sure the skill would even work on something like that. There was resistance even when he had used it on the large parasite, and something so much stronger than anything on the fractal was bound to be impossible. And drinking such energy was most likely going to be the end of him.

While he was resting Zirida was using the candlestone to look around. Nothing much had changed, and there was a lot more climbing to be done, although the passage was becoming narrower. She created a long thin spear out of blood. It was barely thicker than a pencil, yet it still went into the stone walls as if they were made of butter. She poked a few times, letting the spear sink deep.

Finally, she sighed. “Up we go.”

“Of course.”

They kept at it for a while longer until Alan felt his arms would fall off. His fingers had bled a few times and he had even tried to apply [Shadow Weapon] to them and create gloves or something similar with mediocre success. The skill fell apart soon after he stopped exerting his will upon the shadowy mana.

The walls became duller and duller the higher they climbed, which also reduced the light the candlestone was giving them. There were few places where they felt a breeze coming from crevices and dark holes much too small for anything to go through. At least anything human.

As they reached the next place suitable for a short rest Zirida repeated the exercise and finally smiled. She started cutting into the mountainside and pulling off large chunks of the stone wall. Alan noticed that her sword was becoming hooked at the end, meaning it could freely change its shape while cutting into the stone as if it was not even there.

“How are you doing that?” he asked.

Zirida looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Cutting the stone like it’s made of kobold cheese.” That reminded him he still had some in his inventory. Damn, it would have gone great with some of the fruit in the Sanctuary.

“Kobold cheese…?” She seemed thoughtful for a moment, “Well… that’s a question that would reveal too much about my abilities, although anyone of a higher level could probably tell. Let’s just say that I’ve touched upon some… laws of the universe.”

Huh. Is it that simple? No, it was not simple at all. Alan understood that the ‘Flow’ he had gained insight about allowed him to kind of see the patterns of some skills and mana movements, although much more basic than what Zirida was referring to. Laws? Was it like physics or something different? There was much to gain from understanding anything related to that, especially if it boosted the overall effectiveness of skills. She had mentioned cutting into the mountain took a lot and it was tiring, but not how or why.

Alan patiently waited for her to be done and finally, he felt a large bout of fresh and cold air burst into the hollow mountain. Zirida smiled crouched into the hole she had dug, and Alan followed. It led them to a sloping terrace on what appeared to be a not very high hill. Calling it a mountain would be generous.

Considering how much they had climbed this was a surprise.

“Oh, that’s lucky. We’re very close. And unlucky, because we’re very close.”

Alan gaped at what he saw and somehow understood her words. There was a massive plain in front of them. He could not see its end that disappeared before him, but he saw the two sides that were making use of it.

On the right side was a chasm or something that Alan dubbed ‘the end of the world’. It was as if the earth had been cut off and thrown away along with the atmosphere that separated it from the starry space. Small colorful dots glittered in the distant, endless void that was the chasm. And at the very edge of the hole were tens and thousands of creatures, constantly crawling out in waves. Parasites of various sizes, treant shifters, wolf-like wooden abominations that spewed balls of darkness, and giant four-legged insectoid things that marched slowly forward, uncaring that they were decimating their own with each step.

On the other side in the distance, he could see massive walls and three rising towers in a style unlike any he had ever seen on Earth. They twisted and bent in strange angles. Stairs and ramps built on the outside reached for various doors scattered upon the length of the towers and some intersected, creating bridges between them. Below were the tops of various buildings, but the walls obscured most of them from view.

Beams of fiery light that could completely obliterate the Sanctuary he had come from would shoot out from the towers and destroy the largest of the crawling creatures and everything around them.

On top of the walls, various ballistae and other instruments of war sent what Alan assumed were grenades and bombs in a constant if a bit relaxed stream. The horde of creatures was slow and defenseless, but there didn’t seem to be an end to them.

In the middle of the plain humans, lisarni, and other races Alan hadn’t seen before met the monsters who had gotten through the bombardment coming from the Outpost. It was a slaughter as warriors ran around decimating everything they could reach, mages hurled elemental spells, and archers’ movements blurred as they sent arrows of all kinds toward the enemies.

It was a mesmerizing sight that sent his blood boiling and made him forget his exhaustion and troubles.

There was something else that soon drew his attention and held it like it was trapped in claws of steel and death.

A large black plate littered with various symbols and skulls hovered in place between the three towers. The little he felt from this distance made him wish he was not sensitive to the flow as it took his breath and for a brief moment, made him wish he was dead. It was a strange yet natural thought, as if death was not scary, but something to look forward to.

The pressure in his mind made [Shadow Mind] activate on its own and Alan felt it shatter under the aura of the black plate that only grew. Shadows rose from somewhere deep down and [Monochrome Armor] activated on its own only to wilt like a dying flower. Alan was unable to take a breath, until his mana and… something else broke through every pore and shrouded him in darkness. [Monochrome Armor] acted as if it had a mind as it became active once again and the world took on a different hue. It was different, adaptive, darker. His mana pool was going fast but he didn’t care.

He saw now the barely discernable ethereal chains coming out of the strange black plate. A thousand of them, or more, like writhing snakes, shot forward toward a group of people bearing similar armor – grey and black.

They fought recklessly against the incoming hordes of monsters, ignoring each attack that took an arm, or leg, or even the whole body. Skills went off and it was impossible to tell who was doing what. All that was certain was that death was not the end of the grey-clad fighters.

A warrior got decapitated by a skill Alan recognized as the parasite's ability only to stand up ten seconds later and charge back in waving a giant sword of bone.

A woman was torn to pieces by a treant shifter larger than any Alan had seen and soon she was returned to life, and blinked behind her killer.

A large parasite similar to the one Alan had cursed fought against a group of men and women with covered faces. It created rifts in space as large as a human and took many lives, but soon after the bodies rose, the limbs appeared and reattached, and the charge continued.

Who could win against such a force? Who could stop them?

Alan could not see their faces and was unsure if he wanted to. Experiencing death over and over, only to be stuck in an endless battle. What would it do to their minds?

Is that where Emerson is? Is it his punishment?

He tried to find Emerson in the crowd, but it was too far and all were chaotic ants from this distance. He was surprised he had seen as much as he had, as suddenly his eyes refused to focus. His mana was almost gone and the shadows covering him retracted.

Alan slumped on the ground as his attention was once again taken by the black plate. It was all that mattered and it looked like it was almost calling for him.

A hand touched his shoulder and helped him lean back on the cold rock. The feeling disappeared as Zirida blocked his line of sight. Mana flowed around her and wrapped around him too. There was pity in her eyes that made him want to scream.

Who was she to pity him? Who?!

But yes, he was pitiful… a wretch from a small world who didn’t know the vastness of the universe. Maybe death was the only correct choice? He almost summoned a dagger.

No. This is not me. What are those thoughts?!

“Alan, Alan!” Zirida called and he managed to look at her. His skin felt sticky and his mind was blurry.

Something warm came from her hand and into his body and he sighed as the weird thoughts went away.

“It’s the Deathless Plate. Don’t look at it. Without being registered in the Outpost you are not protected from its influence.”

“Deathless Plate? What is it? It’s terrifying,” he managed to mumble.

“Thelyra Dynasty’s way to punish those who had broken some of the laws of the Myriad Worlds Realm. And also, what fuels their legions. It binds souls and forbids them from dying. They hold the Second Throne or the so-called Throne of Death. Their armies are called the Deathless Legions and even one of their soldiers is said to have the ability to end a world. How do you stop what cannot die, after all?”

“Undead?”

Zirida shook her head. “No, undead are mostly subservient to the Dynasty, but they are separate races. It is a long story,” she sighed. “The Plate is only here due to a request from the Dragon Throne, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to witness one in thousands of years. The first time I saw it, moments after I was teleported here, I stabbed myself in the stomach. However, it is a great opportunity to witness it nonetheless.”

“I am eternally grateful. So, what do we do?” Alan groaned.

“We need to get you in the outpost. Only the first time you see it is as dangerous, although going closer to it might still be uncomfortable. Don’t listen to any depressive thoughts or voices that appear in your head. I will watch over you.”

“You got new voices in your head?” Xil suddenly spoke. “I’m jealous.”

The demon’s words somewhat alleviated some of the pressure Alan felt.

“You might want to put me away in the shadow inventory before we go. This place is dangerous.” Xil added.

“Yeah, I will.”

Of course, it was dangerous. Alan braced himself and stood up with the help of Zirida. It was time to mingle with aliens and weirdos. He felt like it was Sunday evening.

And Monday was coming fast.