The Fool's Freedom

Alan didn’t know how much time passed. He didn’t react when bronze constructs similar to the ones they had fought came in and started cleaning the mess under the direction of the Doctor. Bodies of experiments and werewolves were carried away, while the blood splatters were sprayed with a strange dust which removed them in seconds.

He also didn’t care when the Doctor healed his bleeding hands and asked what was to be done to his comrades' bodies. The boss seemed reluctant to take them without permission anyway. There was a distant possibility of the man using them in some fashion for his experiments, but Alan let the thought pass through.

His mind was a mess. Strange connections and memories swap up constantly replaced by another. He was questioning everything that had happened until now. If Florence had such power, then she could have orchestrated a lot more than that last fight. But what? He couldn’t recall doing anything of importance or anything that could have consequences.

Maybe she had fucked around in the Sanctuary, leaving sleeping agents everywhere. No, that was absurd and bordering on insane.

Was he free of her influence now that she was dead though? It was logical that skills ended once the person who used them died, but then again there were also probably skills that had a much more lasting effect. Like the curse of the elves.

How could he be sure? Maybe it was all another illusion, and she was behind him, waiting to slit his throat. Was it Ashlyn’s corpse lying there, while Florence had taken her place?

He felt the beginning pangs of a headache.

Alan shuddered and shook his head. No. She couldn’t fake System messages. Florence was simply a person who let their class guide their actions. She became what the class demanded of her, as Old Greyheart had warned.

In the next moment, Ashlyn stirred and Alan quickly chased away all the useless and crazy thoughts hounding his mind. An immediate relief followed by a new wave of worry washed over him adding to the jumbled mess of emotions.

“Ash.” He carefully helped her rise to a sitting position.

“What… happened?”

Alan tried to answer, but the words became stuck in his throat.

What do I even say?

The first words to escape made all the tension and stress he had buried until now come to the surface. Ashlyn seemed aware something was going on. She knew him better than everyone and she had seen him at his lowest when his family refused to be there.

“She tried to kill you, Ash. I… I thought you were dead. I had to…”

The hug she gave him made him almost break down.

“You can tell me later. It’s okay.”

They spent some time in silence. Thankfully the crazy Doctor once again showed a surprising level of understanding and left them alone. Alan couldn’t trust the bastard. He wasn’t sure he could trust anyone but Ash.

Alan tried focusing on the flow of his breaths and the breathing of Ashlyn. It worked like magic as he suddenly felt like he could exhale all of the tension and center himself.

He did just that.

Sharing was still hard and he had to repeat the exercise a few times, but he managed. He didn’t know what to feel about everything that had happened and it showed during his narration of the events. Was he feeling responsible for what had happened or guilty for not being able to prevent it?

He was most certainly angry. At Florence, at the Dungeon, the world and the System.

“You couldn’t have known,” Ashlyn said.

“I haven’t felt this weak in a while…”Alan sighed and suddenly remembered the elf.

Reyvalur was sitting now, obviously awake. He was leaning on the wall and looking toward the corpse of Jaerdra.

Alan stood up and his hand almost reached for a dagger. Was the warrior going to blame him? Lash out?

However, all he saw was a passing sadness that lasted for but a moment, before the elf steeled his expression and stood up.

His steps were hesitant but solid, and he stopped only a few meters away from Alan and Ashlyn.

“I heard everything. Thank you for saving my life.”

“I didn’t –”

“You most certainly did.”

Alan was about to argue when Ashlyn stopped him with a hand on the shoulder and a shake of her head.

He sighed. The only reason the elf was alive was because he had been too far and too unconscious for Florence to care.

“Yeah,” he relented “Let’s get out of here, shall we?”

“Just give me a couple of minutes,” Reyvalur said and knelt near the corpse of Jaerdra. Knowing about their curse now made Alan and Ashlyn turn away, anticipating what was about to happen.

The Doctor chose that moment to return.

“Oh, good. I hope you are done. So, you are leaving now?”

“I guess. We need to do something about…”

“Great, great. I have a passage here that will lead you out. Next time you come you will be transported directly to the entrance of the Upper parts, so we won’t meet again. All I can tell you is that you shouldn’t attempt it before you have at least fifty more levels on you at the minimum.”

“Right.”

“I also got those items from your comrades. You can divide them as you see fit.”

Florence’s ring and wand were there, and so were Davis’s new gloves.

“Can we… burn the corpses? I don’t trust you won’t do something weird.” Alan said and stared at the boss.

“And you shouldn’t,” the Doctor winked. “I can start a fire hot enough for that quite easily. You can’t believe how many bodies I dispose of on the regular. Hold on.”

It took only minutes until constructs put the covered bodies of Davis and Florence in an empty corner. Soon after Reyvalur carried Jaerdra’s corpse and set it next to them.

The magical fire the Doctor produced was strong and left only black ash soon after. There was a strange lack of smell and smoke. Alan was still unsure about the man’s capabilities or true motives, but anyone trying to earn their freedom would probably be as malleable as he was acting.

There were six levels worth of points to distribute, and a quest reward to choose.

The class guide was very attractive but he advised Ashlyn and Reyvalur against picking it, sharing some of the words of Old Greyheart. Reyvalur thanked him for the advice but still picked the guide as a means to help his people, along with himself. It came in a flash of magic; a simple crystal tablet a bit bigger than a playing card.

Alan had no such altruistic motives. He instantly chose the item option. The offered list of items was surprising and somewhat lifted his mood.

Sword of Frostbite (Rare)

Passive: Causes frostbite on the wounds inflicted by it, making healing them harder.

Passive: Increases the potency of any skill effect applied directly to it by 25%

Fiery Mane (Rare)

Active: Become ablaze with the red flames of Rhun Hounds. The wearer is immune to the flames.

Passive: Keeps you warm.

Staff of Vel’Noir (Rare)

Passive: Adds +40% to the speed and range of projectiles.

Passive: Can serve as a focus and aid mana regeneration outside of combat.

Items having rarity was expected. The monocle used to show only the bare bones of information and Alan enjoyed seeing more. Finding a way to identify things would be important for the future.

For now, he focused on the items themselves and their effects. He ruled out the sword. It was great and could go very well with his [Shadow Weapon], but Alan preferred his daggers, and possibly a longer weapon too. Swords were badass, but not for him.

The Fiery Mane was very interesting. It was the only item with an active effect too. He didn’t know what Rhun Hounds were but it would make a lot of sense if they were some breed of fire dogs. The passive of the Fiery mane was the worst of all of them, probably to offset the strength of the active effect. That made Alan consider it for a brief moment.

In the end, a new spear in the form of a wizard’s staff and an out-of-combat mana focus won though. His path so far had led him toward a more melee-focused caster, but that would probably change in the future. And why not start now?

The 40% range boost was not that great considering the already short range of his [Shadow Slash], but it was still a massive boost. Coupled with the fact that the range counter from the point where the skill was released, a long weapon such as the staff gave further boost, compared to his daggers.

The staff appeared in his hand much in the same way as everything did – in a flash of magic. [First Pathfinder] remained silent, despite the obvious spatial shenanigans of the System.

The weapon, if it could be called that, was a simple midnight black twisted staff that was a bit thicker at the top, forming a cylindrical head. Nothing fancy. Alan quite liked how it felt in his hand.

[Shadow Weapon] quickly coated it, and it was hard to tell where the shadows began and the staff ended. Alan formed a scythe and smiled as it happened much smoother than it had with the spear. This was much better.

Ashlyn had a new weapon too – a one-handed axe that looked like something out of a Viking reenactment. Ashlyn had the speed and strength down with her [Imitate Predator] but she lacked ways to hurt her enemies if they were of a stranger sort.

With that done Alan took a minute to mull over his newly gained levels. The Dungeon had propelled him forward with unimaginable speed, something that would have taken weeks or months to do in the forest alone, lest they found a bunch of Echidnas and survived the fight against them.

Six whole levels gave him 18 free points and he split them between Will and Mind. It was easier to notice the boost of his physical body, than his mental faculties, but it was there. Slight as it was, his control over his skills was growing, and he could start seeing different nuances in the way energy was utilized by the System given skills.

Maybe in a couple hundred levels, every skill would feel just like an extension of himself. He didn’t feel much smarter than before, although his mind rarely grew tired now, despite all the new information it and the constant state of vigilance.

With a nod toward the Dungeon boss who waved happily at them, they took the passage. Soon they were in the entrance hall, exiting from a door that had not been there when they first came in.

Another step and the fresh smell of the forest greeted them, making Alan take a deep breath. The stale smell of blood and age that permeated the Dungeon hadn’t been the worst experience in his life by far, but the smell of a forest was something else.

There was another nuance to it too, something he hadn’t smelled in years living in the dirty city. The slightly earthy and deeply satisfying smell of rain.

He heard Ashlyn take deep breaths next to him, and smiled.

The last time he had clean after-rain air like this had been during his childhood. Even heavy downpours had not been enough to wash away the smell of traffic and dust from the big city.

“This feels amazing,” Ashlyn sighed next to him.

“Yes, it does.” Alan turned and looked at the elf that had followed silently behind them, “Are you going back to your people Reyvalur?”

The elf nodded once, “Yes. We have lost much, but the guide will be worth it. Raising capable generations is our duty.” He bowed deeply one last time, “Thank you for everything Alan, Ashlyn. May whatever Gods you worship smile down upon you.”

Gods? If there are any out there they’re just as fucked as the world.

The elf didn’t wait long as he took a direction very different from theirs. He seemed to hesitate for a brief second, and threw a glance at them, before continuing in a slight jog. The forest swallowed any traces of him soon after.

Alan wondered how long it would take to reach the elf settlement and what it looked like. What were their ruins, what had they done to make them home? They were much more prepared than humanity.

You have completed: Unravel the Mystery of the Lower Buried Blood Fields

You have received answers and even more questions. You can’t help but wonder how much you have missed.

Reward: Two healing charms.

Healing charms? That was good, although a bit underwhelming. They were in the form of two golden papers inscribed with strange symbols. Alan tucked them away and saw Ashlyn do the same with the ones she had received.

Ashlyn grabbed his hand, “Come on, let’s see what has changed in the forest. I have to say that I missed it.”

Alan thought about it and decided that he had missed it too. It felt much better out here than being in the Dungeon.

“Just a second.”

Alan took out the demon cube and felt another burst of anxiety. Was he worried for the demon? “Xil? You there?”

There was a pause before a massive yawn made Alan smile.

“He just yawned in my head,” Ashlyn said.

“Wait what?”

“Both of you fucks can hear me? Great. I mean, not you Ashlyn, uh, I didn’t mean to insult you. It’s just that Alan brings out the worst in me.”

Alan smiled, “Yep. It’s my fault.”

“Noted.”

“So why couldn’t you speak in the Dungeon?”

“You were in a Dungeon? And you live? Ha! Must’ve been a crappy one. And how do you expect a Dungeon to function in a Dungeon?”

“What does that mean?” Ashlyn asked.

The demon’s tone instantly softened when Ash was involved, “Well, my prison is essentially a small one demon Dungeon. It is a space separated from the outside world by layers of protection and unlike a regular Dungeon, there is no door. When two unstable small pocket dimensions find themselves clashing, usually horrible things happen for all involved. Thankfully my prison is sophisticated enough to have protections that prevent that, but they also prevented me from communicating. It’s alright, I took a great nap. That shadow bag you have is awesome, by the way.”

“Thanks…”

With that out of the way, it was time to move. Alan turned to take a last look. The Dungeon entrance seemed to have sunk upon itself, barring anyone daring enough to try from the entrance. For now, at least.

Another step and he froze. A simple sentence in the form of a System message flashed in his mind.

Sanctuary 438 [Earth] has been destroyed.

“Ash…?”

“Yeah, I got it too.”

“Well, fuck.”

STATS

INFORMATION:

Name:

Alan Morgan

Race:

Human

Class:

Warlock

Level:

24

Insight:

Flow;

Titles:

First Pathfinder; Madcap; Slayer; Friend of the Spirit World; Enlightened

ATTRIBUTES:

Strength

47(OmOb + 26.7) +5 [15 base

Dexterity

47(OmOb + 26.7) + 5 [15 base

Vitality

5

Will

107(+17.8 from %) [89 base

Mind

103 (+5) (+8.9 from %) [89 base

Magic

110

TRAITS:

One Mind, One Body; Limited Vitality; Tongues of the four corners; Survivor’s will; Shadow Mind

SKILLS:

Warlock’s Body Mastery; Synaptic Failure; Shadow Weapon; Ritual: Enchanted Bones; Mortal Peril; Monochrome Armor

BODY ENHANCEMENTS:

Shadow Space;