The Fool's Freedom

Unfortunately, the elf called his buddy over too and the three of them made their way out of what appeared to be the eastern gate of the outpost, once again moving toward the creepy Bonez’s house. Alan was not too excited about having one babysitter, much less two, but it was what it was.

For the most part, the Byrr and Feyrith seemed happy to get out, unceasingly chatting about mundane things like other annoying guards and how bored they had been holed up on gate duty for the past month.

“It’s not like the creatures give us levels anymore. Apart from the cores, there’s literally only danger out here for us. But it’s fun.” Feyrith said all this with a smile, which made the complaint sound very strange. Normal people didn’t complain with a gentle smile on, but the elf seemed almost unable to frown.

“Why do you stay here then?” Alan asked as they neared the looming wall. He felt almost itchy at the prospect of meeting Bonez again. Thankfully they were headed for the gates, which were not that close to the [Warlock’s] place.

It was the large greenish Byrr that responded in his booming voice. “We get resources and access to knowledge and skills we wouldn’t otherwise be able to find unless they were randomly offered by the System. We are both at level 99, without a specialization, so we’re amassing as many great skills, advancements, and insights as we can before taking that final step to tier 2. Plus this fractal is suited to our paths.”

It sounded reasonable.

“Does that improve the chances of a rarer class? And why no specialization?”

“It does. We like our classes, man, but we don’t get to have the support system of the larger families and nations. One path leads to strong skills and guaranteed options for the future. Specializations lock you in at least until the end of tier two.” Feyrith said.

“We’re solo, so versatility is our bread and butter. The stronger the class the better.” Byrr nodded.

“However, you may ask, what if you meet an opponent, you cannot defeat because of the way your chosen path functions? Bad compatibility and all that?” Feyrith continued, taking the question out of Alan’s mouth. He wanted as much information as possible, despite already receiving some from Zirida and her group.

Alan listened carefully. It’s what had happened against the godspawn that had attacked the sanctuary. His skill set was simply inadequate against them. He had his curse now, but there were many unknowns about it and it was not exactly good for combat. It seemed like the stronger a skill was the more surprises it hid. Maybe a few more combat-oriented curses would round him up? Or stepping on the path of mind skills again. [Synaptic Failure], although it seemed to function differently for each opponent, was one of the skills that had helped him survive as long as he had.

Byrr snorted. “Then, you have enchantments, body mods, cursed items, scrolls, and all kinds of weird shit to make up for that weakness. But it all comes down to having the backing to acquire them. And the connections.”

“You cannot simply go into a store and buy all of that,” Feyrith agreed. “The stronger one is, the less wealth matters. Cores are everywhere, enemies are everywhere. And if you have a good crafting class you would be sure to get into the good graces of a faction. Or, you can get a single desirable skill. Something you can use to trade for all you need.”

“Isn’t that the best choice, then? For people without backing?” Alan asked.

Byrr shook his head with dejections, “Only if you want to be a puppet your whole life. The stronger one gets the slower it goes. Usually, items that can offer insurance are beyond treasures. Sometimes they are more important than anything.”

“There are stories,” Feyrith’s smile seemed to falter for a second as he looked around, “of the slaughter of whole clans and factions by one single member, because of an heirloom treasure of some kind.”

Goddamn.

“Don’t fill his head with that bullshit, Fey, come on,” Byrr grumbled.

“I’m just saying it happens. You can’t deny it.”

“Doesn’t mean I want to think about it…”

The large greenish man didn’t seem to like violence or the talk of it. Which was strange, because he was a guard and he must’ve seen weird things in the line of duty. Alan wondered what his class was.

They passed the gates with no issues as the two guards nodded at their colleagues. The outside was much the same as Alan remembered it. Brown and red earth, stones, and rolling hills and mountains. He checked the map on his plate and grimaced. All looked the same to him, but at least it led him in the right direction, like a video game minimap.

“So, what would be some good non-combat skills to have?”

Byrr only exhaled with derision at the question. For some reason, the topic seemed to have brought the man’s mood down.

“For starters anything that can create consumables that give combat bonuses, any healing, anything that can give permanent bonuses or buffs in any shape or form, anything with lifeforce,” Feyrith answered. “While the three of us are young, and will reach tier two while we have fuel left inside, some can’t and don’t. No matter how rich, there are ailments, traits, and all kinds of nasty stuff that can reduce one's longevity or stop them from going past the tier barrier.”

Alan’s heart thumped louder. Could he monetize the curse? There was a lot to work on, but if he could bottle the drained lifeforce and sell it then he could arm himself with all sorts of treasures. The Bazaar was one such place where he was sure he could find clients and all sorts of oddities to help his journey and vitality issue.

It seemed like a much better option than simply selling the ritual skill he had, considering all Zirida had told him about the contracts and oaths and bullshit.

“It’s a slippery slope. Finding the right clients, making sure they won’t try to imprison you and use you for your skills.” Byrr said quietly from the side.

“Surely there are laws against that,” Alan said. He realized the stupidity of his statement as soon as the words left his mouth.

“Laws, ha! The only law is that the strong can do whatever the fuck they want, as long as it doesn’t step on stronger toes.”

The elf nodded and looked toward Byrr with a strange look that Alan couldn’t quite figure out. It was gone in the next moment.

There is a story here.

“Well then,” Alan said ready to change the topic for now, “What exactly is the value of the monster cores?”

“You don’t know even that?” Byrr frowned.

“Our boy is greener than you,” Feyrith joked, then continued. “The cores have many uses – reagents and catalysts for alchemy, rituals, and certain skills.”

“Power sources for most any place that uses formations to function,” Byrr added.

“Like your current home or most places in the outpost,” Fryrith said.

“Also,” Byrr spoke again, “If you have cores with the attribute you use, you can, theoretically, level up simply by drawing their energy into yourself and letting it grow yours. It is dangerous and not at all recommended, as the way the System handles leveling is much more efficient and safer.”

Alan couldn’t hide the surprise on his face. If he could bottle lifeforce, he could get some shadow cores from the Bazaar and level from the safety of his… well, he didn’t currently have a place to call home, although a base would be a good thing to establish once he got back to the Sanctuary. Maybe he could get some of those formations and set up his own thing.

“It is very dangerous. The will of slain creatures sometimes remains in the cores and if not handled carefully one could corrupt his very mind and soul and become an abomination. That’s why leveling in this way is frowned upon, although if you find a place of suitable enemies, you could double the leveling speed.” Feyrith said gravely. It sounded like a warning.

“And speed means nothing if you do not have the skills or understanding to go along with it. You will just get stuck at level 99.”

That made sense. Alan almost regretted not chatting with the guards sooner. They seemed to know their stuff and had no issue with sharing what they knew. Then again, to them, this was probably common knowledge for anyone born in a System world. For Alan, it was worth more than gold.

The outpost became a hazy silhouette in the distance before Alan could realize how far they had walked. Their pace was leisurely, but since there were no day cycles or changes in the light or weather, it felt like they had just left. The interesting conversation only made the walk smoother and Alan didn’t mind their presence as much anymore.

“Hey, I went and found that [Warlock] earlier, Bonez?” Alan said, deciding to make full use of the two nice guards.

“Oh? How was he?” Feyrith asked.

“Creepy. He gave me a bone. Can you take a look at it?”

“Sure. Byrr might be more helpful than me in this regard though. I don’t know much about the more… occult branches of magic.”

The large green man grumbled again, “Ugh, fine. But I won’t touch it!”

Alan was happy enough with that and produced the small carved bone. The tree stopped as he held up his palm.

Byrr let out some ‘hums’ and ‘ahs’ while he examined it closely. He took his time but Alan didn’t object. He felt deeply that the fellow [Warlock] was not to be trusted.

“This is beyond me. Strange magic, strange indeed,” he finally said, making Alan deflate. “However, I’m certain it won’t directly harm you. It might track your location and I doubt an interdimensional item or skill will stop its effect unless it’s very weird.” Byrr looked at Alan with a question in his eyes.

“I store my thing in my… left forearm. Enchanted bones.” He saw no reason to hide it from the two. He doubted he had anything worth taking, and the outpost Master had certainly valued his cheese and potential profit too highly, to have him killed in the middle of nowhere.

“So, you put his bone… in your bone?” Byrr raised an eyebrow.

“Said like that it sounds weird,” Alan responded.

“It is not unheard of, although bones with spatial attributes sound like a disaster waiting to happen. Or you’re on a path to becoming a force of nature. I wouldn’t know. Dimensional magic is insane, so be careful.”

“I told you he’s fun,” Feyrith said from the side.

Byrr sighed.

They entered the first rising hills. Alan started looking around and paying more attention to his surroundings. He wasn’t sure if the two guards were here just to stop him from dying or to help, but he hoped they would let him handle most dangers. They didn’t need the levels, while he did.

“Why are these tasks issued anyway?” Alan asked. His staff was already in his hand as he hoped to find some stragglers and test some [Mana Zap] ideas from a safe distance. With the staff’s ability to speed up the casting and the bonus range, he could probably bombard the shit out of anything. If he could somehow force the skill to do damage, things would be much better moving forward.

Feyrith was the one to respond first, “You’ve seen the chasms, right? Well, this whole fractal is built upon the remains of the Void Tree that tried to become a God. Supposedly. No one has gone down to check it out, but it is rumored that some parts of it still live there. It is hard to fully destroy a God, after all.”

“Especially a tree,” Byrr noted.

“The many creatures are born from the energy of the Void Tree and its resentment, anger, and remains. If left to grow and multiply freely, the parasites, treants, and whatnot can technically reach above tier two. This is their birthplace, and while unstable, the fractal will not fall apart because of it. At least, that’s the theory supported by the existence of the dragon. You’ve seen, or at least heard it, right?”

Alan nodded.

“There is no end to those creatures. Which is good, as they grow slowly and offer precious cores and sometimes other alchemical reagents and resources.”

“There is a temple in the depths of the fractal or remains of one. Some of the fallen and corrupted former followers of the Void Tree still exist there. They look like featureless dolls now. I’ve seen a few of them and it is not a pleasant experience. Weird, twisted things. Their energy is all wrong.” Byrr said.

“Yeah, I met a few,” Alan said.

The two guards looked at him.

“You’ve? You have to tell us some more about that!” The green man seemed more surprised than Feyrith.

“Right after you deal with this little thing ahead,” the elf smiled wider.

Alan looked up. Straight ahead a parasite on the larger side was crouching, tongue in the dirt.

“Why do they do that?” Alan whispered.

“Beats us. We kill them, not study them. Go now.”

Alan shrugged and stepped forward. He felt excited as his mana hummed to life.

[Mana Zap] was prepared, but he held it off as shadowy mana slowly started replacing each component of the skills, piece by piece. He was careful not to disrupt it, and it seemed almost too easy.

Hopefully, things would go better this time.