The Fool's Freedom

They hurried their pace, moving toward the Sanctuary at a decent tempo. From time to time the elves used their skills to hide and blend in, but Alan still saw them as bright as lightbulbs. Nothing attacked them despite the paranoia. Whatever danger they were worried about was perhaps too afraid of Alan’s own presence, which he made sure to project all around and deter any incidents.

The talk with the few elves had proven interesting. After he mentioned some further details of his former traits and how crippling they were, the elves latched unto him like they were best friends. Even the rude one had become open to sharing all he knew of the world in its current state.

Elven society from before the System seemed built on mutual destruction. Feeding on their own was a curse, but some had embraced it as part of their heritage and reveled in the glory of the hunt and kill of those like them. Apparently, unlike normal elves, those were quite adept at producing offspring, which somewhat explained why the curse hadn’t led to extinction. Plus, each needed only a small amount of meat every few days, and there were severe consequences to consuming more than needed.

Alan found that detail interesting. He speculated that the ‘curse’, if it was even that, had something to do with greed or taking more than was necessary. Was it someone from a System world that had done it to them long before the time of integration had come, or were there powers operating outside of the System? He knew of the Myriad Realm and its boundaries, but he didn’t know if there were other realms, with different rules, rules, and gods.

The elves were pretty set in their warrior ways, claiming that while the System was powerful, relying on what it gave rather than developing one’s power personally was foolish. Alan saw some reason in that, as advancing his skills himself was very fun and a great plus to him, but without the base of the System, it would’ve been impossible. And he wasn’t sure what they meant. They still had to pick skills and classes and level up. Did that mean that they simply didn’t look for a higher meaning in things or insights?

Not that he had. His insights had come mostly due to how things had progressed through time and he still understood very little about them. Flow combined with Emptiness allowed him to attune his mind to the movement of mana, to sense gaps and concentration, and to see nuances. It was a great thing, but hardly a game-changer. He was sure there were perception skills that could do much better work than that.

They reached the Sanctuary in a couple of hours, and the [Scouts] went off to report to Derzid before Alan approached the chief. He gave them enough time to say whatever it was they wanted to, while he looked around and smiled at those daring enough to glare at him. Their number had lessened significantly, especially after he casually took out the head of the Earthbark Trihorn and examined it in full view of the elves.

“It seems we have underestimated you,” the chief simply noted as he stepped closer, eyeing the bloody proof. Alan quickly made the head disappear in his inventory before the elf got any ideas. There was no astonishment nor newfound respect seeping through Derzid’s cold features. It was a bit disappointing, considering what Alan had achieved, but he wasn’t about to care how elves showed their emotions.

“Yes. Now can I see Reyvalur?”

“You’ll be disappointed. Follow me and we can talk on the way,” Derzid said.

The two, accompanied by at least ten other elves went deeper into the Sanctuary. It was many times larger than the human one, especially after the latter had forcibly shrunk into a strange fortress to defend itself after the barrier had fallen. Since they had lost their protection as well, perhaps the elves had simply decided to take more of the forest for their own.

They passed by the World Temple which was very similar to the one Alan knew. Nevertheless, he found it fascinating now that he could better sense some of the intricacies of it.

Finally, they reached a cluster of wideset wooden houses that were half buried in the ground and walked into one of them. Crude wooden stairs led them deeper underground. There was some sort of glowing moss covering most of the walls, giving off gentle light. It was quite beautiful, but at the end of the path, all thoughts of aesthetics left Alan’s mind.

Rooms with bars made of iron-like wood stood separated from one another. They were large and well furnished – as well as they could be in the apocalypse. The elves inside stood still, eyes closed. They were mostly naked.

Alan and his entourage stopped in front of one of the cages and the bars started slowly moving under the guidance of one of the elves – a rare mage.

Isn’t this a sacred role? Why are they caged like that?

“Before the System,” Derzid spoke as if having read Alan’s thoughts, “those who gave their flesh to us would often go insane and the curse would… give them strength unlike anything we had seen then. Everyone has different… hunger and needs. I know the ones I sent have told you some things, and I don’t blame them. Your power is astonishing, and perhaps you can assist us. To learn you’ve suffered from traits,” the word seemed almost dirty as he said it, “is a surprise. We often thought of humans as ones blessed by the Earth and given adaptability few could match.”

“We all have our struggles,” Alan replied. His gaze was locked on the large warrior before him. The man was much the same as he had been in the Dungeon; after all, it was not that much time that had passed. However, there was no edge of danger to him anymore. His flesh was lighter in places, and one of his hands was bandaged loosely.

Is the regeneration slow?

“Do you have enchanters?[Potion makers] or [Alchemists]?” Alan suddenly asked.

“It is not that simple,” Derzid said.

“What do you mean it’s not simple? You’ve left them here to heal on their own! You’ve got healers! I’ve seen what they can do.”

Derzid bared his sharp teeth, in what was a show of typical elven frustration. “Our curse is of a grade higher than yours were, human. It adapts. The more healing one receives from outside sources, the lesser effect it has. We keep that for combat, and while we have [Herbalists] and [Potion Apprentices], those lose effect even faster. We have developed a number of healing ointments and liquids, and there’s hope that each breakthrough will lead to stronger and better healing that will not use potency. However… so far there’s been no luck.”

Well damn. That sounds like some serious hate. To make a whole race suffer like this and take into account so many things… who could do something like that? I should look into figuring out more curses. They’re certainly not something I can develop on my own for now, but understanding them will be paramount. Such power…

The bars were finally out of the way and Alan stepped inside without waiting. “Reyvalur?” he called softly.

“I’ve just been cut,” the elf responded with a hoarse voice. “Do you need my flesh so soon?” His eyes opened slowly and there was some astonishment as he saw Alan.

“Alan,” he tested the word on his lips after a few tense moments. He looked toward the elves standing behind him and squinted his eyes. “What is the meaning of this?”

“The human desired to meet you. He did us a great favor for that honor,” Derzid replied.

“Leave us,” Alan said.

“That is not possible. He’s too valuable to be left alone with—”

The shadows moved dangerously and Alan felt his temper slip out of control for just a fraction of a second. It was enough to force back the next words that were about to come out of the elven chief’s mouth. The elf had proven he was not unreasonable, but he was also mostly used to having his wishes followed.

Alan didn’t care. As he saw it, he was doing them a favor by not bending to their bullshit or being soft-spoken.

“Go!” he said in a low voice.

The elves bared their teeth but did as they were told. He sensed them linger some ways off, close enough to react if whatever it was they feared Alan would do came to fruition. Just in case, Alan spread his will around and used [Shadow Creation] to close the door.

Reyvalur didn’t seem worried at all, which was a good thing.

“How have you been holding up, man?” Alan asked with a smile as if nothing strange had transpired.

The elf evaluated him for a few moments, then nodded. “Good.”

Good? You’re being cut apart and eaten! Is he eating himself too? No, that would be cheating. Should I ask?

“Listen, Rey, if you want to go, I’ll take you out. We were comrades for a time, and I owe you that much after what happened in the Dungeon…”

“Why would I want that?”

“Because you’re stuck here, being eaten by your own people?”

Reyvalur shook his head. “I chose that. I failed the warrior’s way and this is the best way for me to contribute. I appreciate you being here, but you wouldn’t understand.”

What kind of defeatist bullshit is this? Alan felt anger stir again but for a different reason. This type of attitude pissed him off now since it was reminiscent of how he had given up once. Now though, it was worse. The System offered limitless possibilities. Ways of growth and change that had only been possible in stories.

While his path was possibly fraud with danger due to the steps he had taken, and how unforgiving the universe seemed to be, it was many times better than anything from before.

“Listen,” he began, “The Universe is vast, and possibilities are endless. I’ve already met another elf – an elf without your curse.”

Reyvalur’s eyes shone. “On this world?” he asked.

“No. I got tangled in some bullshit and went off-planet for a while… It was enlightening, to say the least.”

“You do seem very different since our time in the Dungeon. Much stronger.”

“Funny, you’re the one who recognized me the fastest.”

Reyvalur smiled at that. “My eyes didn’t, but your presence is unmistakable. I’ve met a few humans, as you may know, but you’re quite… close to us in some ways.” He didn’t elaborate further, and Alan didn’t ask.

He knew himself more than ever now. There were depths of untold proportions resting beneath who he thought he was, and the System seemed to have filled them with monsters. While he had been mean before, he hadn’t been so quick to anger and explode.

“So that’s it? You’ll stay here to get eaten by your own, for eternity? You do realize that if you level enough you could still cut pieces off yourself, without having to stay closed like this?”

“It is tradition. The flesh needs to be clean,” the elf refuted. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Alan sighed. “I don’t. Traditions are dead and so is the world that gave birth to them. It became just a building block of what we see now, and closing yourself like you are has nothing to do with traditions or the good of the many. It is simply cowardice to my eyes,” Alan said calmly. The shadows around the door melted away and he moved to leave.

He sensed the note of anger in Reyvalur, but it was quickly hidden. Anger was good. If there was anger, there was pride, and pride made people act.

“You don’t know me, Alan.”

“I don’t, I just thought there was more to you. I came all this way to see someone who I thought could be a friend since we share quite the experience. I guess I was wrong.”

He left and headed for the group of elves looking at him with strange gazes. Ignoring them, Alan rushed back the way they had come and didn’t wait for Derzid or anyone else. The calmness that had followed him since his tier-up was completely gone, replaced by a strange itch.

Nothing some good old grinding couldn’t fix.