The Fool's Freedom

The elven body, if it could be called that, was mangled beyond recognition. A single eye peeked from a piece of remnant flesh that remained attached to a bloody skull. It was cold and cloudy, whatever emotions the owner of it had experienced at the time of his death long washed away.

The rest was mostly a broken skeleton with strips of skin, intestines, and squashed organs hanging from ribs or staining the grass. There was not much flesh remaining, probably having been eaten by whatever roamed these parts of the forest.

Or taken by his own to serve as sustenance. Cannibal elves…, I still can’t wrap my head around that one. Alan stepped closer, unbothered by the cruel scene. He wondered what Feyrith would think. They hadn’t spoken about the cannibal elves, had they? Only a mention or so.

Alan extended a finger and briefly touched a piece of the skull that was cleaner than the rest. It was dangerous to utilize such a skill out in the open, but he trusted that both [Mortal Peril] and his sense of mana would warn him if something came.

It was his first time using [Will of the Dead] and he felt his heart take a leap as the skill took effect. He quickly tried to lessen the impact of emotions – feeling what a cannibal alien felt was not one of his priority experiences.

The skill went off, but Alan remained present. It was different than his time with Isind in the Bazaar, and what the previous iterations of the skill had done. The world around him grew darker, and he suddenly felt as if death was all around, waiting in the shadows or hiding behind the trees. His own whispering shadows became quieter as if their voices were coming from far away despite the fact that their constant buzzing was contained to his mind.

There were paths he could take with the skill and it was as if he was to make a choice. Let’s see how their life was before the System, then.

His vision shifted. He saw glimpses of a life in a dark world filled with suffering. It was many times worse than even the fractal he had come back from. Not a single memory contained light or even the thought of sun or warmth. He saw a society built on consumption of their own, and what that led to. Wars, battles, slavery, castes – a life of constant fear and constant suffering, and hunting parties treating other tribes as prey and food. It was unlike anything he had known on Earth. He felt the hunger that was foreign and consuming and made him want to vomit. The emotions that washed over him at the first bite of meat that had not been jerky made from the dead, but from ‘prey’, disgusted him to the core of his bones. So foreign, so savage and brutal that what had happened with Bonez seemed trivial in comparison.

He willed the skill to skip through that. There would be time to explore different cultures without putting his sanity at risk, especially in the middle of a forest. This was not what he wanted to know.

The visions disappeared and Alan found himself back in the forest, but the corpse was gone. He stood up, confused. A group of elves walked out of the darkness that surrounded the clearing as if they had materialized from the darkness. He quickly realized they were memories, unreal and untouchable. A scouting party, perhaps. They were arguing about classes and food and the situation seemed to be quickly devolving. Alan could feel the indignation and anger radiating from them but the emotions were mercifully restricted to their owners. It was a good change that lessened the impact of the skill somewhat. Still, a sort of pressure was thumping outside of his mind.

Soon their arguing stopped and their eyes widened. Something came at them. Fast. Something dangerous and smaller than a humanoid, but as big as a smaller wolf. The world grew still and Alan grinned as he saw the creature freeze mid-leap as if he had pressed pause. This was a great skill! He felt like a detective as he neared the thing and examined each last detail of it. A beast similar to a wild cat with its body covered by shifting darkness not unlike Alan’s own shadows. That piqued his curiosity. The shadowy mane was bleeding from behind its ears like smoke and what could be seen of the fur below was sleek and shiny.

Another interesting detail was the thing’s tail which ended in a small crystal that shone with dark-blue light. Whatever effect it wasn’t affecting Alan, who was just an observer. It felt off though. Out of place almost.

He resumed the passage of events as he felt himself close to the limits of the skill and watched at least two more of the creatures assault the elves. The battle was gruesome and lasted a while. The elves seemed focused mostly on physical skills and traits. Their weapons were glowing with different elements and lights. Their movements were adept, not like those of the humans back in Alan’s Sanctuary. Few knew how to fight properly before the System, and it was a slow process to learn it all despite the availability of skills.

The elves were trained warriors having lived their lives in constant battle for survival. Now the System had only made them better at that. Still, one of theirs fell wounded by the end. It was a simple bite that had mangled his forearm, but Alan noticed something spreading – a dark blue patch of skin. The elf reacted quickly and used his sword to cut the limb off below the elbow without uttering a sound. The rest of the elves managed to kill two of the creatures but the rest fled in the darkness.

The group regrouped and they inspected themselves. The one without the arm knelt on the ground, a wild look on his face.

Then the attack resumed. More of the creatures swarmed them, their eyes gleaming with suicidal madness as the elves were slowly overwhelmed. The group still held their own but there was certainly something wrong. The elven attacks started missing, and for all their strength and speed that eclipsed even the tier two Alan, the elves had lost all their grace and skill.

They still fought bravely, but the more Alan watched the more he realized something very interesting. They seemed to be stuck in their ways without realizing the possibilities of the System. A single area of attack skill like some of those he had seen against the fight versus the god spawn would’ve been a game changer. It didn’t have to be strong as the dead creatures had proven they were easy to kill once someone managed to pin them down. However, there was no trace of some normal, destructive magic. The elves seemed insistent on using their swords and bows, and while they had the skills… it was disappointing to look at.

Still, the group seemed to have a preference for self-buff and they once again managed to win against the dark feline monsters. Few were poisoned, but that didn’t seem to bother them as it had the one-armed one. Strange. Alan finally noticed a brown armband on the one-armed elf's arm. The rest had red ones. Was that part of it? Factions? Or perhaps classes? It was too difficult to say exactly what classes and skills they had. There was certainly no healer around.

Without a word the largest of the elves suddenly moved and stabbed the one-armed one, his sword leaving a large hole in his chest. The vision shook but Alan willed it to continue past the death of who he assumed was the target of [Will of the Dead].

What followed was brutal dismemberment that left little to no meat on the body. Not to the state, Alan had found it in, but that was probably the wild beast's contribution to the situation.

Then the skill finally ended. It was much better than his previous attempts but he had felt pressure through the whole experience, as if something was trying to enter his mind and wiggle itself inside. Perhaps the sliver of will?

He pulled up the skill’s description just in case.

Will of the Dead (Ancient)

You walk with the dead. Shadows of memories long forgotten by all whisper in your mind and help you down the path you’ve chosen. The dead hold no secrets from the one who wears the past as a second skin.

Witness their lives and remember their deeds. Learn and grow and in time their wills might join the crusade you’ve embarked on.

You can see the lives, and feel the pain of the dead. You can ask questions, and seek the buried knowledge. The level of control you can exert depends on your Will and Mind attributes.

Beware the remnants of will that can corrupt your mind if you’re not ready.

Be wary of the anger of the departed but do not fear it.

Use this skill sparingly.

So, perhaps it was the will of the one who had died struggling against the invasion. Too bad. His (Ancient) rank [Shadow Mind] was an impenetrable wall. He read further down and almost facepalmed. He had forgotten about a particular detail and had instead just used the skill as he had used it the previous times in the Bazaar.

Questions? He hadn’t asked questions although his sense of control had been much larger. He sighed and eyed the last warning. What could go wrong?

With a thought, he tried to cast it again but focused on his desire to ask questions. Again, the world grew dimmer and he found himself face to face with a blank-faced copy of the dead elf. There was only silence around them. Alan looked around and he felt the skill start to pull back.

“Where’s your Sanctuary?” he asked quickly. That seemed to stabilize things. The pressure on his mind also returned, stronger than before.

The elf didn’t speak, rather information entered Alan’s mind. Hazy sense of direction. It was enough.

“Why were you executed?”

“Foooood,” the elf responded, his voice ethereal and unwilling. Then slowly showed his armband. So, it has significance after all? The pressure grew too, after the second question.

Alan thought for a bit and just as the skill weakened again, asked a third question.

“How strong is the strongest in your Sanctuary?”

The elf remained silent, then shook his head.

After that he was gone, and so was the skill. Alan felt one last push at his mind before whatever had tried to worm in disappeared as well. He stood up and frowned. This was a skill that would take some getting used to.

Perhaps making a visit to the elves will be a good thing. We can trade some information, and create a channel so I can help Rosie and the rest. Why not?

There was one thing to do first though. Many small dots of concentrated mana were slowly creeping around him. Alan grinned as his own thoughts had given birth to an idea. It was time to put some of his new attributes to the test and see how far his control of shadows extended.

The creatures seemed hesitant, probably because they could sense parts of his strength and his overwhelming superiority. Still, they didn’t pull back. Maybe that was part of the reason he hadn’t met many beasts on his way. Was he too dangerous?

He didn’t give them time to consider things as he pushed [Shadow Creation] to its limit. Slashing with his weapon had been a requirement before, but shadow slash was now an expression of a better skill, and that skill didn’t share the same requirements. Improvement was in the small details, after all.

The darkness churned at his feet like a lake of shadows, and as he felt the circle tighten, he unleashed the shadows burning with mana in a circle all around himself

Threes were instantly cut in half and screeches took over the silent forest.

You have slain: Bluepoison Felin (74)

You have slain: Bluepoison Felin (72)

You have slain: Bluepoison Felin (78)

You have slain: Bluepoison Felin (71)

…

No levels came, but Alan still grinned as he dodged a falling tree. They were surprisingly easy to cut through, but they were still titanic in size compared to anything from the old Earth.

The surviving monsters scattered in a frenzy, and Alan sighed. Perhaps waiting to see what they could do would’ve been for the better. He was still curious about the crystals on their tails. Maybe Mr. Muge would appreciate them?

Alan looked around surveying the destruction of his new ‘sub-skill’ he had decided to name Shadow Nova, just because it sounded cool, and started looking for the corpses of the Dark Cats.