The Fool's Freedom

“We have a few options, considering your… disposition. We can enlist you as a guard, or a soldier. You will be tied to a chain of command and you will have certain obligations relating to that. The benefits are quite nice, including resources and personalized training by an excellent [Class Trainer]. I think a newly integrated and patronless [Warlock] like you would appreciate such a thing. However, in doing so you will not see your world for a while, and your freedom will be greatly limited. There are countless untamed fractals ripe with resources.”

“The second option is to register you as a mercenary or as they often call themselves, adventurer. You will be free to take on tasks, but I will still issue a guard to escort you, at least at first, since this is your first fractal battlefield. This option is good as it gives you freedom to choose when, where, and if to work. There will be no additional resources, and all you acquire will be won by your own effort.”

“The third, and in your case final, is for you to go back to your world via the System Pillar which functions similarly to a World Temple. You got one of those, right? I will sponsor you the cost, and you will be back where you came from, ready to start creating a cheese supply chain. Unless, of course, you have a valuable non-combat skill you can offer toward the betterment of the Outpost?”

Wilbis stopped talking and picked up another cracker, letting Alan think. It was almost a no-brainer but Alan still felt tempted by the possibility of going back to the Sanctuary. Ash was there, and so were many people he wanted to get even with. However, in doing so he would be throwing away an excellent opportunity to learn a whole lot more, to adapt his skillset, and to level up like crazy. He also wanted to find a way to talk with Emerson, or at least know that he was holding on.

“Mercenary,” Alan said. This was the best choice.

Wilbis nodded, probably having expected that. “Good. You will be issued a room near the Mercenary Hall. It is one low-grade core a day, of any variety. Tier one, of course.”

“Will this do?” Alan took out the doll core Zirida had let him keep.

Wilbis’ eyes lit up. “That’s a high-grade core. It is worth 100 low-grade cores, or 10 medium-grade cores.” Wilbis produced a pouch and small cores dropped into it from his empty palm until he was satisfied. He then handed it to Alan and with a deft hand took the high-grade core from him.

“There are 50 low-grade cores and 5 mid-grade cores in there. That will last you for a while. The first week is free so don’t worry about it. As for the language rune you’ve gotten, it will have to do for now. I will try to find a solution for you but it will cost, and the [Rune Mage] is away for a while. One of his disciples was badly hurt.”

Alan nodded. Having some funds was good, although he was still confused about what actually was the main currency of the Universe. So far it seemed that there were a few main ones, and it was mostly centered around energy. He had to thank Zirida again for giving the doll core to him. It was also tragic that the other two cores had been lost.

Wilbis took out a small metal card, looked at it for a few moments, swiped a finger, and threw it to Alan.

“Don’t lose this. You are registered in the Tower Registry, and every fractal with an Outpost will be aware of who you are and what you do, so situations similar to the one with the Deathless Plate will not repeat. Infuse some of your personal mana into it and put a drop of blood. This is the lowest rank at F, so for now all it does is alert the powers that be of your presence and designation.”

Alan did as he was told, using a dagger to poke a hole in his finger and smearing some blood on the plate. It was quickly absorbed, followed by a small amount of mana. He didn’t feel any different.

“I heard there’s a [Warlock] in the Outpost?” Alan asked. He was curious about it. A ding from the System surprised him and he quickly read the message.

You have been granted a new title: Mercenary (F)

Title: Mercenary (F)

A warrior with no cause, you go where you please, or where the profit is greatest.

You can now access the Fractal System and take on tasks and missions issued by the many powers interested in the Fractals.

Another thing to care about. Neat.

“Hm? Might be, might be. Ask around, I don’t keep track of everyone, even if I can. The towers give me far-reaching powers, but the brain in this body is limited to early tier two, so I have to make cuts. Oh, don’t mind me. I suggest you take a few days to adjust yourself to life here before heading out. You’re now registered as a Mercenary so no one will cause problems for you. Fighting in the Outpost is strictly forbidden and all that break that rule will be punished. However, outside of it, people can kill each other as much as they want. Now, let me call someone to show you around, hm, let's see,” the gnome responded. His gaze grew distant for a moment.

This body? Does he have more bodies? It was in the realm of possibility. After all, if people could be prevented from dying, no matter how severe the damage, then what was impossible? Did the System hold dominion over life, death, and existence itself? So far it seemed to be the closest thing to an omnipotent force, although those ‘thrones’ sounded powerful. Then again, for all its omnipotence the System was very… passive. It was used as a tool and Alan had already seen that some beings were able to manipulate and use it. Thorn for once.

Something in his peripheral vision made Alan look up. The elf from earlier was sitting there, bored. Alan frowned. Though his encounter with the elf was brief, Alan was not in the mood to associate with anyone who was able to control his emotions.

“This is Feyrith, you’ve met. He will show you around, and also tag along once you take on your first mission. Consider this a chance to learn.” Wilbis said as the elf stood smiling.

“No offense, but I have some… issues… with anyone who can manipulate emotions,” Alan said. It was risky to offend anyone in his position, but it was riskier to expose himself to a second Florence. Not before he was sure such things did not affect him.

“Oh?” Wilbis exclaimed.

“No worry, little friend. What I did to you is a buff skill called [Enrage]. It does make you angry, but it also highly increases your physical capabilities. Something you didn’t manage to notice in your condition and with Byrr holding you. I have no other ways to affect your mind whatsoever,” the elf explained helpfully.

Wilbis clapped his hands from his desk. Alan hadn’t noticed the gnome move at all, but he noticed very little in this place. “Then it’s decided! Off you go!””

“Thanks for—”

Alan was outside in front of the tower with Feyrith next to him. There had been no transition. One second he was about to thank the Outpost Master, and in the next, he was out.

“You get used to it after a while. Come,” the elf patted his shoulder and started walking.

Alan tentatively followed, paying much closer attention to the surroundings. There were no stalls at all and he noticed only a few actual shops on the way, which dealt mostly with food. There were few smithies, and he vaguely remembered seeing much more variety closer to the wall facing the battlefield. He wondered why that was. The proprietors he saw still often wore weapons and armor and looked like they would take off your head if you so much as touched an apple without permission.

The more they progressed through the twisting roads of the Outpost, the more places that looked like taverns or the fantasy equivalent of coffee shops appeared. And they were brimming with life. Various dishes and drinks were constantly changing hands on terraces and out-of-place gardens filled with strange vegetation.

Feyrith led him confidently and Alan finally decided to look toward the towers they were circling. They were tall and wide, much larger than he had assumed they were from the outside. The Deathless Plate hung between them like an omen of something bad. He felt nothing now, after spending some time and getting the title of a mercenary. It was a strange thing how quickly things had changed and how quickly the gnome had accepted him. Maybe it was the cheese, maybe the gnome had a skill that showed him all he needed to know about Alan. Or maybe he simply didn’t care because Alan was weak.

They circled until they came to rows of small identical buildings. The road had been littered with very individualized architecture, and each building had been unique in some way – strange religious fetishes, markings, colors, style. The ones in front of him were simple, square, and looked like something out of a dystopian future. Few were sporting sigils depicting strange creatures, symbols, or places.

Feyrith led him to one in the corner and pointed toward a glowing mark.

“Place the card here, and then show it to me,” the elf said.

Alan followed his instructions and felt the card try to draw some mana from him. He let it, as the amount was truly insignificant and the wall before him indented and slid to the side, becoming a door.

The inside was bare, but clean and quite spacious.

“Show me your identification card,” the elf repeated, making Alan turn away from the room. Alan did and Feyrith took out a metal card that was similar, yet different. He gently touched it to Alan’s and then smiled. “When you pick up a job, I will have to come with. So, simply focus on my mana signature and I will come. Considering this is an order from the Outpost Master, any other duty I have will be relegated to some other unfortunate soul. Don’t take too long alright?”

Alan nodded. “Sure. I will see what I can do.” He was not against having someone more experienced along for the ride. It would certainly make life much easier. He did want to meet Zirida again soon. She was the one he trusted the most.

“You can practice your skills in this room and any furnishings you need you have to bring along or buy. Any damage you do to the walls can be fixed with a medium-grade core. There is a small hole in the wall there for that purpose. Other than that, if you want to look at the weird sky use your plate to make the roof transparent. It’s one way so don’t worry about peeping eyes. Once the first week is over you will have to deposit a low-grade core each day, mid for ten days, or high for a hundred days. Just place them here,” he pointed at the marking where Alan had used his card. “What else, what else? I’m sure you will figure it out.”

“Thanks for the help, sorry if I was rude earlier.”

“No worries, no worries. You might tell me some more about those cannibal elves you met over a drink sometimes. I got to run now, though.”

“Sure. One last thing… Do you know where I can find the [Warlock]?”

“Oh, Bonez? Yeah. It’s not a commonly seen class considering all the bullshit patrons famously put them through, so it’s probably Bonez you are looking for.”

“Bonez?”

The elf shrugged, “Don’t know his name. He uses lots of bones and does weird shit, so… the nickname. He has a place near the back wall, and runs some kind of business I hear.”

Ah, I keep getting lucky. A [Warlock] specializing in bone magic, whatever that was, sounded like a person Alan wanted to squeeze dry of knowledge and advice. Most encounters with intelligent life had gone surprisingly well so far. Something he hadn’t expected. Maybe the Universe wasn’t as cutthroat as Earth? Maybe with great power came decent morals…? He almost laughed out loud.

“Alright. Thanks.”

The elf smiled and walked away leaving him in the new place.

Alan entered and willed the door closed. Two glowing spheres provided soft warm light. There was no bed and no toilet. The cleansing charms did remove the need to use one, but he had hoped that there would at least be a shower or something. It would probably feel like bliss to feel the warm water cascading down his body. Maybe he could buy one?

The Outpost economy was strictly tied to the monster cores, which meant that anyone who could go out and kill them had a pretty decent haul. He had forgotten to ask what exactly was their use, but he was in no hurry. Currently, the thing he wanted to do most was rest and then practice some of his skills. Visiting the [Warlock] was also a priority.

Alan chose a corner and fiddled with the card for a bit. It allowed him quite a few options, mostly concerning the personalization of the living space. He didn’t care about that for now. He also briefly considered taking out Xil for a chat, but there would be time for that later too. The silence in the room was oddly comforting. No sound of the bustling Outpost outside could reach the inside at all. All he could hear was his own heart and breath.

Without realizing he closed his eyes and sank into a state of meditation, observing the constant flow of energy all around. He could feel it then, the moving mana. Each breath and each tiny movement were a catalyst for hundreds of changes.

This time, he focused on his internal world. Starting with his fingertips, he began feeling each of the enchanted bones, looking at the engravings, at the way flesh covered them. The blood vessels and the muscles just beneath the skin.

Alan’s consciousness drifted along the energy circling his body, following invisible paths he hadn’t noticed before, and fueling his very existence.

Something stirred deep inside…