The Fool's Freedom

Jay started to struggle but Alan held his own. He had never used [Shadow Creation] in such a way before, but it seemed like a good way to hold down weaker opponents. Perhaps smaller monsters if he ever decided to try and catch them alive. Who knew what way his path would lead him?

Making money and seeking food and shelter seemed like unnecessary things. For all he knew, he could spend eternity in his own Spirit Domain, living a boring life of safety. Sure, he had to adapt as Enid had warned him, but the option was not attractive either way. What point was eternity, without some excitement?

It was like he was countering the man’s physical strength with his mind. The pressure created by Jay was pushing on flesh that was both part of him and not his own. The shadows felt like an extension of his psyche. A strange sensation not guided by the limitations and function of typical skill usage. Perhaps enough practice with [Shadow Creation] would allow him to do much more than shape intangible shadows into tangible objects. He still found some of that difficult.

He hoped it would.

Still, the way Jay resisted was surprising. Alan had expected a bit more, but either the man’s skillset was very limited in what it could do, or he was holding back. The calmness in his eyes never retreated, although there were hints of surprise here and there.

Alan couldn’t help but worry that he had revealed a lot more than his opponent during the fight. None of his trump cards, but still… All Jay had done was try to intimidate him and then try to punch him by utilizing his movement skills.

Nothing more.

The struggle suddenly stopped and Jay looked at Alan. The shadows wiggled around, but since they were not carrying Alan’s destructive Will inside of them, they didn’t do damage to the man.

Alan’s newly recharged passive shield suddenly shook and broke and he barely dodged an illusory fist that continued for a few moments and disappeared. It had come out of thin air, which was somewhat surprising at the very least.

Another struck him from behind, but the shadows once again managed to block it. It was not as strong as the man’s actual fist, but to someone with Alan’s physique, it would certainly do damage.

“Are you not giving up?” Alan asked as he avoided a third. The fists were not too fast or difficult to see, but they came without warning. There was no spatial shenanigans from what he could sense. It was something else. Illusions made real?

The man didn’t reply.

Just as a fourth fist appeared shadows from the cocoon covering Jay’s body covered the top half of his head like a hood and obstructed his vision.

The fist missed with a lot to spare.

Alan smiled to himself. Finding a skill’s weakness in the midst of combat was very rewarding. It made him feel competent. How could the bastard aim ghostly punches when he couldn’t see?

“Do you give up now?” Alan asked. The tension on the shadowy prison grew, but he had four anchors holding on to the chains of darkness and while they were not the living servants that could do things on their own and damage his enemies, they were still a bit stronger than what was made by [Shadow Creation].

Whatever Jay was doing it was straining it all though. He was like a fountain of endless Strength that kept pushing and pushing. And then suddenly all of the tension slackened. The shadow chains fell to the ground and the block collapsed in itself driven by the slight pressure Alan had made it exude upon the man.

What?

Jay rushed from the side, having randomly appeared there, panting and sweaty. Was his hair wet?! He suddenly sped up and avoided the chains Alan sent his way. He was a bit slower than earlier, but his movements were more erratic as if led by pure instinct rather than guidance from the mind. Whatever skill had been used to allow him to escape his situation was draining enough to affect the man in a very strange manner.

Alan was deeply curious about it. He hadn’t sensed anything concerning space, and yet… here they were, his prison and his chains made worthless by the escape.

A rain of real and illusory punches followed Alan during his retreat. Some extended far from the man's fists and made the air tremble with the force hiding in them. Alan was sure he would suffer if one landed.

Next, Jay seemed to split into three, as if he had created clones that behaved the same as him.

It was a bit of a strange scene, but it didn’t stop Alan from sending shadow slash after shadow slash. All were dodged, even the wide and thick shadow novas. Jay was moving like a ghost through the barrage while managing to keep up his attack. Alan’s shadows blocked whatever went through but he was stuck constantly raising barriers to stop the fists from reaching his body.

When it come to the physical side of things, he had no chance. If a single one of the hits struck him, things would be dire.

Was Jay angry? Was his pride hurt? Did he want to turn this into something much worse than a simple sparring?

Alan could sense the growing pressure. They were far away from the initial tunnel where they had met, rushing through the maze and running circles around each other. Jay’s companions were long out of sight and mind.

Alan’s wild attacks finally made Jay retreat a few times, but the man’s eyes were glazed and he acted as if he was obsessed.

There was no rest, no stop.

Finally, Alan grew tired and anxious of the situation. He focused on the flow of the fists, trying to see through their rhythm as Jay’s copies appeared and disappeared like far-away echoes that came close just to annoy. Their attacks were weaker than the original’s, but they traveled further and still promised a world of pain if they landed.

It was strange thinking of the rain of fists as a ‘flow’ but it was what it was. No one had said that ‘flow’ could refer only to mana. If Alan could apply to more things, like he had done a few times by sensing the life force of creatures, then the potential was limitless.

The new realization made Alan grin and he started pushing his luck. The fists came closer and closer to hitting him and a few grazed him, making his cheek and shoulder bleed. The only thing that had allowed him to keep up was his passive speed. Jay seemed to have quite a few bonuses to his own speed, or at the very least he had focused heavily on Dexterity. It was impressive.

If Alan had been a pure caster, he would’ve stood no chance with his strange kit.

[Void Step] activated in a sudden reverse of movement, followed closely by a burst of [Synaptic Failure] that gave Alan a split second to do what he had decided to do. His hand touched Jay’s naked fist, and the world froze at the contact, before continuing as the two passed one another.

Alan felt the resistance as if he was pushing against a concrete wall, but his will became a drill that shattered it and sank beneath. His [Curse of Buried Shadows] nested into the man’s psyche, like an invisible scar. It was a pity to use such a skill in such a situation. He had been warned not to overdo it, although he wasn’t sure why.

There was a natural resistance, a subconscious effort to protect one's self against the strange curse, but nevertheless, the (Heritage) ability overcame it all.

Alan activated the curse with a thought, and Jay stopped mid-punch he tripped and crumbled to the ground. His eyes widened and he looked at Alan with the first signs of fear he had shown.

“What did you do?!” he asked.

“You were going a bit too hard at me there. I had to take you seriously,” Alan replied. He had released his hold on the curse, but the connection was there like a rope he could pull at any moment. He couldn’t sense the curse plaguing the [Warlock] witch back in the Sanctuary the same way, but she was far, and he had ‘told’ the curse what to do the moment he had used it and paid it no mind afterward.

Now, it was different. At any moment he could summon the darkest depths into Jay’s mind and turn them against him. He wouldn’t abuse that, but that was beside the point. It was insurance for the lone caster who had run into a group of strange adventurers delving into a dungeon.

The skill itself seemed to become what Alan desired of it at the moment, which was perhaps part of its nature as a Heritage.

Jay bared his teeth and his aura exploded, shattering the stone around him. It held a ghostly hue and a layer of something akin to white-grey miasma covered the man’s forearms.

The sensation it gave Alan was one of high danger – a skill that could destroy him.

So, he activated the curse, and it all fell apart as Jay screamed and his eyes rolled into his skull. There was still resistance, and it was not light, but whatever attributes or factors were being put against each other when it came to the [Curse of Buried Shadows], Alan’s won out.

He kept it going for thirty seconds or so, before allowing the man a breather. The ghostly miasma was gone, all that was left in the fighter’s expression was terror.

To his credit, Jay composed himself quickly and stood up.

“You win,” he said. His voice trembled for just a part of a second before he put his hand out for a handshake.

Alan hesitated. Was this a trick? The man’s abilities were still a question mark. It would be foolish to lower his guard like that and he knew best of everyone what a simple touch could do.

Jay seemed to sense the hesitation or the meaning behind the act. He rubbed the nape of his neck and lowered his hand.

“Right. Trust,” he mumbled. “I don’t blame you, considering what I’ve seen people become under the influence of the System. What you did to me… is it gone?”

Alan shook his head. “It lasts for a while. If I decide, I can make it more intense than the taste I gave you.”

Jay’s eyes widened at that and just the tiniest sliver of anger made his calm and cold eyes burn for an instant.

“I… see. An insurance?”

Alan shrugged. “You’re many. I’m alone.”

“That’s true. The other four won’t be a danger to you though.”

“Trust me, I’ve seen enough to know that surprises come in the strangest forms. I’ll not harm you, as long as you don’t harm me.”

And I hope you won’t do that. Alan liked Jay’s skillset. It was interesting and intriguing. Jay was the first tier-two Alan had properly fought against, and it made him realize that while he had quite a few advantages, a little slip would be enough to make them all worthless.

The world was dangerous, and he was not that special. However, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t become after some more hard work on his part. A sudden desire to awaken more of his bloodline, to explore the so-called legacy he was holding, and to understand the secret intricacies of the universe washed over Alan, making his blood boil.

Even Earth had become such a truly strange and unique place. It was fascinating… He wondered if perhaps any of his distant relatives still lived. Had one taken the world by storm? Thinking about them had never been at the forefront of his mind after the world’s end. It was like a distant echoing though, like everything that had existed before the System.

A grey, featureless world, with unimportant connections and lives.

Jay had proven there were people out there who could match him, and perhaps some who could kill him without breaking a sweat. Advantages were worthless when one didn’t build up on top of them after all.

Alan smiled, and Jay tried to follow suit. It looked pained and awkward and the man gave up, only making Alan smile wider.

“Want to go back to your companions?” Alan asked. “I won’t harm them, as long as you don’t try to sneak attack me.”

“We’re not monsters,” Jay said. He didn’t sound insulted. It was good to meet someone who had similar reasons to distrust people. “I brought them here as a favor. Our Sanctuary needs strong protectors if I leave.”

Ah, a good responsible guy. Not like me. “Are you the strongest there?” Alan asked.

“Yes!” Jay immediately answered. “Are you the strongest in yours?”

“I think so, I haven’t spent a lot of time there.”

“Have you explored a lot?”

“You could say that.” I’m certainly not going to tell you so soon. “Say… Do you want to kill that big guy with me?”

Finally, there was a genuine smile on Jay’s face. One Alan could somewhat relate to nowadays.

The smile of a man thirsty for challenges.