The Fool's Freedom

“Oh, oh!” the gnome exclaimed. Various fruits, some of which looked almost dangerous to eat littered the small table between them. “Let me introduce myself, dear boy. My name is Wilbis Boombelch, a proud member of the Exploding Library and a passionate researcher. My expertise is wide, and my interests can blot out the skies. I like wine, cheese, and learning. As long as you don’t do anything to threaten the balance in the Outpost I am currently acting Master of, you have nothing to worry about from me.”

There was a pregnant pause, in which Wilbis’s eyes and smile only grew wider.

“Nice to meet you, Mr…. Boombelch? I’m Alan… and you seem to know the rest.” Alan felt somewhat nervous. He was in the middle of the unknown and was about to have his first clash with the bureaucracy of the universe. If it was anything similar to Earth’s, then he soon going to wish he had killed himself under the influence of the Deathless Plate. Wilbis Boombelch didn’t look like a person – gnome – that cared much about that though, which was a small relief.

“Oh, yes. I know a lot; I see a lot. Don’t worry, all is safe with me!” He knocked on his bald head with a finger, “You should learn to hide yourself better though, you are like an open book. Anyway, I am sure you are very curious and have many questions. Don’t worry, as I have many answers! Ha! First things first, yes. We will have a conversation and at the end of it, I will bestow you a title depending on some choices and my impression. I don’t think we have anything to worry about, you seem like a stand-up guy, eh?”

Oh, fuck me dead. I’m so screwed. Alan gulped and gave what he assumed was a sincere-looking smile to the gnome.

“Now, I will try to calm down and let you answer. First, how did you come to this place? Don’t worry. You are not the first and won’t be the last. Bandits, vagrants, and other untoward folk have occasionally found ways to enter the fractals, but you don’t strike me as one of them. Especially considering you are from a new world. Hmm, curious. Please do enlighten me.”

Alan nodded. It felt like in each meeting he had with some of the powerful folk he was forced to tell a story and share a lot. Not that he had much of a choice. And so far, it had worked in his favor. It took him a while to explain the invasion and how he got whisked away after Emerson was punished. Wilbis just nodded along, while sipping on a gilded goblet of wine that had appeared out of nowhere and didn’t seem to end. Alan noted how much the gnome liked snacking on cheese.

“Mhm, mhm. Quite the story. Integrations are always so dramatic! Let me give you a piece of advice. Your friend? Forget about him. It’s sad but true. No one can help him, but his perseverance. It’s just how it is. If his mind survives, he will come out as a force worthy of respect. The Second Throne is heavy-handed, but it often offers choices and your friend has made his.”

“May I ask, what exactly are… those thrones I keep hearing about?” Alan carefully asked. He wasn’t about to blindly sacrifice himself for Emerson, but he kept hearing about the Thrones.

Wilbis grew serious and took a small sip of wine. “The Rulers of this Realm. All existences in the Realm bow to them and exist because they allow it. With few exceptions, of course; there are always exceptions! Ah, but you didn’t hear that from me!” He winked, “They slay errand Gods and destroy worlds so we can live our pitiful little lives and keep growing, hoping that one day we will stand among them. Of course, all factions are in one way or another connected to the Thrones, as all serve them, but interpersonal conflict and wars are allowed so long as no major rules are broken. The Thrones don’t care for the petty conflicts of mortals, empires, or even smaller pantheons. Well, apart from the Dragon Throne… dragons are few and rare, and each bloodline is sacred to them. Hence the unique situation we’re having with the Deathless Plate.”

Alan had the feeling that Wilbis was not too pleased, but the gnome didn’t show it in the slightest.

“They are existences you should not think much about,” Wilbis added.

Alan nodded. No point looking at the top while he was struggling beneath the dirt.

“Now,” the gnome slapped his knee with his free hand, “Tell me about your world. And just so you don’t think I’m taking advantage of you, I will share some things that you will find useful along the way too. What’s the wildlife like? What do you do there? How’s the food?”

Alan shared some information about the kobolds and their cheese, the beasts he could remember, the wailers and the echidnas, the few classes he knew of, and eventually the dungeon. The latter seemed to be of large interest to Wilbis. The gnome asked many questions and even wrote down some of the information in a tiny book he pulled out of thin air.

Alan hesitated but told him about the pale werewolf and its blood too, and the oath he had made as well.

“Oaths are dangerous. You should fulfill yours and never give one lightly unless you find a God or a Patron that is capable of protecting you from the consequences. Few could. All are subject to the System, even if some would wish we thought differently.”

That last sentence stuck out to Alan. Maybe not everyone was as happy with the ultimate rulers of the Universe. A thought about the power of the Deathless Plate sent a shudder down his spine. Happiness didn’t matter in front of absolute power.

“So… what I am most interested in first… do you happen to carry some of that kobold cheese?” Wilbis’ eyes shone like small dark gemstones. Alan nodded a produced some of it, hoping that the shadow space had kept it from spoiling.

Like a connoisseur of cheese, Mr. Wilbis took a small piece of cheese with a long implement that had appeared soundlessly in his hand. Then, he put on brass glasses and started a long process of examination. Alan used the opportunity to partake in some of the fruit and wine and as he did he wished he had done so sooner.

The wine was delicious and unlike any he had tried. A small ball of heat traveled throughout his body, adjusting pains and knots, before settling just below his chest and above his stomach.

Is that mana?!

The few pieces of fruit he tried had a similar if much less pronounced effect. With surprise, Alan realized that his mana pool had grown. It was an insignificant improvement, but he had also barely tasted the offered foods and wine. What would happen if he ate all of it?

Trying to do it without drawing attention Alan kept drinking and nibbling at the fruits, enjoying the new way of progress very much.

“Your body will get used to it very soon, and the benefits will stop coming. Take your time, this food is not a treasure. You may find similar quality in each shop around the Outpost.” Wilbis suddenly said, making heat rush toward Alan’s face. He didn’t stop though.

“Thanks.”

“This is fascinating. This cheese is a product of a very rudimentary technology and not an ounce of mana had been used to achieve it. It is, I believe, made from the so-called ‘milk ants’, a rare and very sought-after species. They have mostly gone extinct and only the richest can afford to find products made from them. And even then, the process involves mana and spells that speed it up at the very least. This here has suffered no such indignity! You say simple kobolds made this?!”

Ants?! Cheese made of fucking ants?! Alan couldn’t get over the fact. It was not like he had a particularly sensitive disposition when it came to food, but ants were a whole different matter.

“Took it from their camp.”

“Oh, so I assume they are dead? That’s a tragedy. Here it goes.” With passion Alan had never seen between a person and a piece of cheese, the gnome finally tasted it. He shuddered, smiled, frowned, seemed thoughtful, fell in his chair, and stood up again. Finally, he took out a notebook and started writing while holding a pencil-like implement. He wrote fast, his small hand a blur while Alan continued eating.

“Treasure! Absolute treasure!” The gnome suddenly exclaimed. “Thank you, outworlder Alan, thank you!”

“You’re welcome?” Alan hesitated.

“Now!” the gnome slapped the table, making Alan jump up, “We have so much to think about! I know you will be very sought out once news of this cheese leaves this room, but hear me out first! I can offer you lots of connections and my expertise. Sure, I may not be the strongest or the richest, but I am smart and business is my middle name. Well, technically it's Boom, but that’s details.”

Wilbis Boom Boombelch? What a name…

The gnome continued excitedly waving his hands, his eyes on the piece of cheese. “I won’t bore you with the details, you have a lot to learn. Just know that I will not take advantage of you. If you can find a good source of this cheese once you go back to your world, and we find a way to get it to me, I can handle the rest and make us both filthy rich! What say you?”

That was unexpected. Alan frowned at the piece of cheese. He remembered the nasty creatures and the slaughter of their camp. He felt a bit guilty now. After all, wasn’t civilization’s advancement judged by the quality of their cheese?

Oh, fuck. It’s contagious!

Alan rubbed his eyes to clear his thoughts and nodded. What was there to lose?

“We can talk about it; I don’t see why not. I’ll see what can be done with the kobolds.”

Planning to exploit a sentient species for profit. Ah, look at me, making humanity proud. Future lord of a cheese empire. Ha!

Wilbis blinded him with a radiant smile and Alan decided to push his luck. In a whirl of shadows that the gnome fully ignored he produced a small amount of the dried-out herbs.

“This is also from said kobolds. I’ve… ingested them once, although they didn’t look like this. It was a strange experience, but they helped with my fatigue and even healed me a little bit.”

Wilbis took the herbs, sniffed them, then licked them. “I will need time. But if it’s valuable I will let you know. Consider keeping this information private. Everyone is looking for profits.”

Alan nodded. It was funny what a long way a bit of good cheese went. He decided to ask a question that had been bothering him, “I’ve been meaning to ask somebody about that. If leveling is how you get stronger… then what’s the point of everything else? Why are you here instead of being outside, fighting? I know there are classes like [Enchanters] and all that, but it just seems… like a waste.”

“Hm,” Wilbis once again grew serious as he took out a bunch of crackers and laid them out on the table, “May I?” he pointed at the piece of kobold cheese.

“Of course,” Alan said and watched as the gnome carefully put a bit of it on a cracker and set it before Alan, before preparing one for himself.

“While fighting to level is the fastest way, it is also the most dangerous. I’m sure you understand that not everyone wants to risk their life for a pipe dream of eternal life or power. It is different in a newly integrated world, but reaching the top of tier one, or level 100, is impossible for most. Good classes are hard to come by for those that had spent generations in the System and most are held by the various powers flourishing around the Realm. Sure, it is possible to go out and rack up achievements that will give you a good class, but most simply choose a non-combat one and do the best with it. It is safer, and it can also lead to developments that can rival even some of the stronger combat-oriented classes. In the end, it all comes down to the individual.” Wilbis took a bite of the cracker and closed his eyes in delight.

“Plus, only leveling without paying attention to your skills and understanding them is bound to bring you to a wall. There are those stuck at level 99 who have killed thousands of enemies and never managed to take that one last step. Killing is not everything, not at all. Sharing information about the tier-up process is generally frowned upon as it is different for everyone, but I will give you a piece of advice that everyone knows. Focus on your skills. Develop them, combine them, mold them to your liking, and they will serve you well and bring benefits few can imagine. The levels will come, especially in a place like the fractal battlefields or your home world.”

This made sense. Alan hadn’t considered combining his skills… although why not? He could try it later. [Mana Zap] was something he wanted to develop fast. In its current condition, the skill was useless.

“Thank you. This is very useful to me,” Alan said. He had learned a lot since coming here, and even some of the anger he held against the weird witch girl was gone. She didn’t know how much she had helped him. She was still on his kill list though.

“Oh, it will only serve me well if my new business partner grows to be powerful. We don’t want you dying. Now, while there are many things I want to ask you about your world, time is pressing and I have other duties. I can only clone myself so many times. I feel like I’ve judged your character enough. We have one more urgent thing to do before you can walk freely around the outpost,” the gnome grinned, “It’s time to choose your job!”