The Fool's Freedom

What had been a somewhat calm process of farming the ceaseless streams of dolls, parasites, shifters, and now prowlers, became a massacre.

The aura coming from the battle was like a drug injected straight into Alan’s veins. He could feel the mana fueling countless strange skills rumbling around. The world was washed in all colors. After a short word to Zirida, he rejoined the fight. The shadows around him were smoke streaming off his pores and shrouding his form seemingly incensed by his stimulated mood.

He ran uncaring through the raging waves of skill and narrowly dodged a few eliciting curses and warnings from their users. Friendly fire didn’t seem to be a concern for the various arrogant bastards around the battlefield though and he passed scuffles between fellow outpost members quite a few times.

It was strange to fight amidst a battlefield filled with death and danger, but most seemed to treat all that was happening like a game.

He cared little about that. His ears were ringing with the sounds of battle and he could feel his thirst to be in the midst of it grow by the second. With a silent roar only he and the shadows around could hear Alan jumped unto a nearby parasite like a hound seeking the death of its prey. His hands reformed into claws supported by his raging will that tore into the bark covering the monster and ripped it apart before roughly tearing at its chest.

The core was in Alan’s hands a moment later and he crushed it with glee, uncaring of the waste. He felt better than ever. He felt good.

Three prowlers jumped as one on him and Alan threw his body back on instinct, his hands curving widely as blades formed on them. Moments later two shadow slashes tore into the prowlers who were just landing. They didn’t cut deep but the wounds soon made the wood around crack and shatter.

It was ironically funny. Give the broken guy the ability to break things better. He laughed and finished the two hurt prowlers with two more shadow blades while dodging the attack of the last one. Why were they becoming slower? They were, weren’t they? Everyone was slower.

He dodged another attack – a random beam of sickly green as his mind sped up even further.

It would be an interesting experiment to see how his will would affect the living. The thought made him shiver in anticipation. He imagined soft flesh breaking as if it was porcelain or blood raining like crystals. Did the physical state of his targets matter? What if he fought an elemental again, like the one from the dungeon?

Zirida would like to go there, probably. He decided to ask her about it at some point. She and Ash would get along.

Ducking under an arrow that carried along billowing smoke he stabbed at a random shifter that had appeared on his path. There was little resistance, as the creature hadn’t managed to dig itself a shell.

He ignored the system messages that came. The shadows raged as he pushed from the ground and met the last prowler that was still chasing after him, head-on, narrowly dodging its jaws. He charged a shadow blade and then thought better of it as he sensed the strengthened tingling of [First Pathfinder].

[Mortal Peril] didn’t activate but the tingling of spatial disturbances was enough for him to know things were dangerous.

He narrowly dodged as a hole in space took a bite from the shadows steaming out of him. He felt it then – a chuck of his mana was gone. It was not exactly painful but it created discomfort and more importantly, hurt his pride. A sense of rage overtook him and the trembling shadow blade flew toward the new offender – a regular parasite.

The blade flew further than ever before. It broke through the monster’s bark with little loss in power and made the black body shatter into fine dust similar to what the first outburst of his will had done with the young parasites.

Alan bared his teeth as if he were a predator that had just won against someone encroaching on his territory. The prowler that still lived chose that moment to attack and rammed into him sending both of them tumbling. It tried to take a bite of his neck but the shadows stopped it.

Alan roared back and covered his right hand in thick darkness. He poured mana into them recklessly until his hand didn’t look like a limb anymore. Sharp spikes protruded everywhere before he pushed it deep into the prowler’s throat and elongated the shadows.

Spikes of darkness then burst from the inside out of the prowler showering everything in thick gooey liquid and wood. Alan jumped back as the creature slumped on the ground and succumbed to its multiple wounds shortly after. His attack seemed to have crushed its core too as there was no sign of it.

Alan stood up, panting. The experience had brought a brief spark of clarity back to his mind, but it was nowhere near enough to extinguish the fire raging inside of him. He thirsted for battle like he didn’t believe possible.

His mana reserves were brimming and he had more than enough left to continue his reckless rampage for a while more. Each breath filled him with energy as if someone was pouring it straight into his body. He hadn’t used [Warlock’s Body Mastery] or [One Mind, One Body] in a while. He didn’t feel the need to draw from the curse either.

For a brief moment, he allowed his eyes to peek into the flow of mana around. There were dark spots, devoid of anything littering the space overhead, but the raging battle brought along a storm of different colors that overwhelmed him and made his head thump in protest. Around him was darkness. His own mana was akin to thin shadows. However, some felt foreign although they still belonged. They were different, stranger, distant. As if a memory of something long gone was given a second life.

He quickly closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The thoughts were spiraling in his mind and he felt that something was missing. Something small but very significant. Alan felt his body grow agitated similar to his mind and breathed even deeper, allowing both oxygen and mana to pour inside of him and give him more life. It felt amazing.

[Mortal Peril] sang in that moment and he threw himself to the side almost on instinct while his eyes were still in the process of opening. A mountain of a man crashed where he had been standing, creating a deep crater in the ground. It was the same giant covered in armor he had seen staring at the raging Kalyntha.

Was the fellow falling on him enough to kill him? Really? Was his weight greater than the danger of the void spots the parasites created or the jaws of the prowlers? The shock made whatever had taken hold of him take a back seat and retreat. It remained there, waiting for the missing piece of the puzzle. The whispering shadows became silent and distant and the sounds and sight around and before him took the forefront of his mind.

The giant stood up with a groan, his eyes never leaving his enemy. Alan followed his gaze to see a creature that was familiar yet very different – a doll. This one was different as it wore tattered green and white robes that had somehow stood the trials of time and change. Its wood flesh was vibrant green and the veins between the wood were filled with briming life energy.

What would it feel like to drink from that? The thought was light and it went as it came. Alan gave it no more attention as the newcomer spoke.

“How ‘bout some help, shadowy brother? This one’s a tough bastard,” the man’s voice rumbled.

Alan took a moment before he responded. His blood ignited once again at the sight of the very strong new enemy. The man’s presence agitated him too. A challenge. An adversary.

“As long as you don’t try to sit on me again,” he said. His voice sounded rough, resonant, and strangely arrogant. Most of it came from Alan, but he felt that the shadows around him speak alongside him, adding a strange quality to his words.

The shadowy whispers became stronger and more demanding, but Alan ignored them. He was the only one in control. And when he chose to give up control, it was because he chose so, not because something weird demanded it of him. Not anymore. He focused on the giant before him.

The man’s deep laughter rang throughout the battlefield making the new doll pause its steps as if confused. For some reason that action made Alan feel a sense of dread, which of course stoked the fires burning inside of him further.

“No promises. Try to support me from afar. Even with your speed, that thing is a menace,” the man said.

From afar? That’s right. I was supposed to be a goddamn mage. I’m once again deviating from the path I’ve chosen. Then again, it feels so good. No, no. I need to become versatile. I need to become capable of anything.

“I’ll try,” Alan said.

The man spoke no more as the doll was upon them. Alan barely followed their movements as the man’s large frame somehow matched the zealous speed of the monster. The staff appeared in his hand a moment later and Alan swung, charging a blade of shadows only to frown a moment later.

He let the mana dissipate. With how the fight was raging he couldn’t possibly aim precisely enough.

What to do, what to do?

The doll swung and Alan cast a [Mana Zap] just below its fist. The burst of mana came fast and did absolutely nothing to disrupt the attack. The man didn’t care as he met the fist with his own. The shockwave almost blew away the shadows swirling around Alan and he took a step back.

Well, shit. Time to experiment.

Alan changed his spot, moving alongside the ruins and widening the distance between himself and fighting monsters. The doll didn’t seem to react as he moved to stand behind it. Did it not take him for someone dangerous? Did it not think him capable of hurting it? Or was it just dumb and hadn’t noticed?

His newfound pride hurt at that, despite the latter being the highest possibility. However, this doll didn’t seem like the rest. Not at all. There was life inside of it, a life different than the one he drank from the parasite or the one in the other dolls.

Shadows once again poured into the next cast of [Mana Zap] and with them, some will. The burst of mana was darker, like a small black firework. The doll ignored it again and sent a jumping kick into the man’s crossed arm making him sink into the ground up to his knees. The man laughed at that. The two looked like an adult and a child locked in combat, however, the child currently had the upper hand and was thrashing the adult.

Alan smirked.

[Mana Zap] appeared again, and stayed there as a constant stream of exploding mana particles that slowly grew darker and darker. Alan’s now signature shadows soon covered the skill, molding it, turning it into darkness personified. Then, as if it was a living thing, dark bindings shot out like limbs from it and toward the doll. It broke the first few but more and more came as Alan grit his teeth and poured his mana into whatever was going on.

The chime of a System message came again, and he ignored that too. The doll was soon overwhelmed as dark bindings wrapped around its limbs, thickening and strengthening with each moment. Alan’s head thumped at the effort of holding it. It was like he had grown a hundred limbs and each was being stretched to the point of being broken.

The doll suddenly stopped moving and allowed itself to be covered in darkness. It was then that Alan let the shadows explode in a silent burst of thinning darkness. He felt the channeling of the skill end with relief and saw the doll fly back as the fist of the giant found it. Its body was littered with cracks and small parts of it were falling.

It held on though.

And its face turned toward Alan.

Two pure green eyes found his. Slits amid the blank face.

For some reason, Alan grinned at it.

The doll burst into movement even faster than before and Alan’s shadow-covered hand barely rose up to meet the strike. Shadows broke apart and something cracked as the strike tore through his defenses and sent him into a nearby building.

Alan grinned through the pain and debris falling all over him. At least his newly imagined pride was restored.