The Fool's Freedom

Walter scowled in frustration. A Sanctuary had been destroyed and the news didn’t lead to anything good for the finicky balance achieved in theirs. Alan and the girls were still gone, probably dead or fighting God knows what.

He was both grateful he was not in their place and worried he might be dead before they returned if they returned at all.

The gangs were moving and clashes had become a normal occurrence. Even some of the classless children were recruited, like some sort of child soldiers in a revolutionary war. It was disgusting the lows humans could fall to for power.

Walter blamed the System. The new quest had started it all.

Sanctuary-wide Quest: Choose a Leader.

A strong society needs a strong leader, especially when it is brand new. Simply choose who you support while in the vicinity of the World temple.

Only a Leader can represent the Sanctuary.

The Leaders can assign other managerial positions and choose their levels of authority.

There are no bonuses for being a Leader.

If a chosen leader is killed, the killer can take on the role, until enough people vote against them.

Reward: Access to Sanctuary upgrade system

Time Left: 3 Days 2 Hours

Why would it specify the last part? Did it want a fucking slaughter?!

Walter grumbled some more and took a swig of the beer in his hand. It was passable for something made out of alien ingredients and created by a magical drunkard. Fuck, this world was making less sense the more one learned.

He looked around the room. The few people who had chosen to follow him and remain neutral were sullenly cradling their cups. Most people in the Sanctuary just made the best of it and tried to live a semi-normal life, not caring about who was on top. But that was a problem too. It was politics all over again! Not caring and staying on the sidelines was as good as being on the wrong side according to Walter.

There was a scream somewhere deep in the Sanctuary and an explosion. He sighed.

“Cole will take it all in the end, eh?” A young man named Victor said. He had a pair of round copper framed glasses, courtesy of the newest optometry clinic in the Sanctuary—a combination of a budding [Glass Maker] and one of the many [Blacksmiths]. The young man had another worthless class according to Walter—an [Architect]. What good was that?

Walter himself had picked [Firestarter]. A class specialized in fast offense, movement, and strangely, barbeque. The cooking skill had been there so he had picked it. It was good to have the skills to fight in times of war, but it was also good to have the skills to grill in times of peace.

“I don’t know about Cole, but some snakes are lurking around the shadows. We don’t have to fear those in the spotlight as much. Cole has a great class for leading, but he is arrogant and he surrounds himself with fools,” said another of those present – Leela. A woman in her fifties, [Brewer] and creator of the substitute beer in everyone’s glasses. There were other [Brewers] out there that did it better. But hers was free.

Her husband, a hefty fellow that made Walter feel like a supermodel shared her class and nodded sagely from her side.

“Then what do we do?” asked Walter. The people he had gathered here all had some pull, sans the useless [Architect] but they were also not daring enough to get on any of the gangs’ bad side.

“We wait.” Someone said and Walter cursed under his breath.

“To hell with waiting. All we do is wait. For what? Someone to come and save us? Children are fighting on the streets for God’s sake.”

“There is no God,” said the [Architect]. “At least not as we know it. There is the System, and it won’t do anything to help.”

“Emerson has found a God.” Someone said.

“Emerson is going to be executed in a matter of days, once they are sure he is insane and not an actual chosen of an alien God that will seek vengeance.”

Walter sighed. This was the third day they had led the same conversation. It was a pity for Emerson, but there was nothing they could do. He sincerely hoped that the God the boy had found had good aim if there was going to be smiting. Emerson had killed too many—going out and hunting after the gangs left him alone. Their corpses were buried to create strange patterns and perform even stranger rituals.

In their small group, only Walter’s class was suitable for combat, but the man himself wasn’t. He was not a fighter, no matter how much he tried to be.

Trying to help during the first wave of new wailers had crashed into the barrier and had left him unable to sleep for days. There was going to be a second attack any day now. Few were allowed outside to hunt, not that there wasn’t desire. All the nearby hunting grounds were taken by the gangs, and now the food distribution was also in their hands.

Some people could grow food with the wave of a hand, but many needed and wanted meat. It was simply another way to control the population.

Walter sighed. He needed the reach and level to search for his family, not that there was a chance for him to visit other Sanctuaries or ask around. The task seemed more and more impossible with each passing day.

Things were looking quite hopeless.

***

Tim laughed at Cole’s joke as if it was the funniest thing. Then laughed some more when the man proposed a purge of the smaller gangs.

There were a few that were giving them problems, but most had decided to join The Future and become subservient to it. After all, Cole was the only [Chief] around, and who better to lead them to new heights?

The few crazy ones like those in the Enchanter’s Edge or the Elven Trunk, a newly opened tavern belonging to a scary woman with a class no one understood, would have to be dealt with at some point too if they didn’t fall in line.

Thankfully all they cared about was for no one to bother them. Both establishments had chosen secluded spots located in a less used zone of the Sanctuary, near the northern barrier. If they didn’t join the war for the leadership position, they wouldn’t have to clash with them.

Even Tim was worried about the influence that Mongolian [Enchanter] was gaining. He was a leading force when it came to innovations and strange enchantments. It seemed like his skills grew by the day. The only issue was that he vehemently refused to trade with anyone from the gangs. How Mr. Muge knew who belonged to which gang was a mystery, but Tim suspected he had someone with an information-based class close to him.

The biggest issue remained the execution of Emerson. Tim was very against it, but it was not in character for the good dog to oppose the decisions of the leader. He was certain this new reality of theirs had actual Gods, and fucking with one was the dumbest thing.

He had whispered to those who listened, trying to reach people who Cole took advice from. Sadly, Cole wasn’t a fan of having smart people around. And while manipulating dumbasses was typically fairly easy, it was really hard to make them be smart for a change.

He had to weigh the success of his plans versus the potential destruction of the Sanctuary and everyone in it. Surely even the supposed Gods responded to the System?

The message that everyone had received had worried him though. How would a Sanctuary be destroyed like that? And it was one of Earth’s. Countless people were either left to fend off the dangers of the world, or dead.

He had planned to use Alan and Ashlyn and leverage what common people they knew, but there was no news from the pair after they had left more than a week ago.

It was a pity. He still had people waiting in the patrols that stopped anyone from exiting the Sanctuary without permission. It never hurt to be careful.

Nadia was getting crazier by the day. He never pegged her for someone as bloodthirsty, but apparently, her class had something to do with it. She had let slip that she had slit some guy’s throat just for fun one night, enjoying the levels and System messages. This was not good. Crazy was unpredictable.

Things were spinning out of control and for the first time, he regretted picking a [Healer]. His skills were invaluable, and he had managed to create a single offensive one, but he had no way to beat the pure fighters. It had been much easier to push people around on Earth.

***

Xil’Garoth was happy. The human male had proven much more resourceful than first anticipated. He kept surprising Xil with every passing day. The seal was weakened more than ever. Still strong, but now he could speak with everyone! Or at least two or three people at once. He could even see further.

Forcing the prison to activate its protections against spatial bullshit a few times had been an invaluable help. Xil hoped the humans would go straight to another Dungeon, but he knew there was a low chance. Dungeons were rare, and while the System might have made them easier for the newly integrated world, they were also deadly.

Very deadly. Or so Xil knew. He didn’t know where the knowledge came from and it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that there was a way out; his prison was not infallible.

Alan carried the cube in his bag, letting the demon chat with the duo on the way back. It was a nice gesture, although Xil hated nice. Ashlyn though, was prettier than ever. Maybe a bit too pretty now that he thought about it. He liked her air of danger, her savage aura, her strength. Now she felt subdued, almost as if she was restraining herself in some way.

No matter.

The two were moving quite fast for humans, and Xil noted that Alan had grown much stronger. He couldn’t fully sense him either anymore. That was good.

The Golden barrier of the Sanctuary as the humans called it soon entered Xil’s perception and sent an uncomfortable feeling down his currently non-physical body. It was a marvel how the System had so much energy to support so many worlds and all of its functions.

Xil had to admit that whoever had made it, was almost as smart as himself. Maybe even a bit smarter, which was only because whoever had made the System was probably not spending eternity closed in a cube prison of unknown origins.

There was a group of people waiting behind the barrier, having noticed his humans approaching.

Xil could sense fear and hostility in the other group. And desire for confrontation. Fools. They were weak maggots compared to his two humans.

“Stop!” A burly man called. He was big for a human and quite threatening. Alan and Ashlyn didn’t stop though, befitting of those who carried the great demon.

“I said STOP!” A sound wave, way too weak to threaten anybody came out of the big man. Xil cast [Soundless] for just an instant, drowning it in deafening silence.

“Who the fuck are you?” Alan asked the man. That’s right! Tell him!

The man seemed confused that his skill had failed. Ah, to be the hidden master among those who had just tasted power and were drunk with arrogance. Xil had the vague recollection that he had lived for that stuff once. Was he a young master? A young demon master? It made sense.

“By order of The Future, no one is allowed to exit or enter. You don’t look like members, I haven’t seen you!” the man said with a tone that demanded respect, without having actually done anything to receive it.

Those behind him nodded approvingly, taking pleasure in the perceived greatness of their weak leader.

“Oh, it’s you stupid fucks again. Should’ve known by the dumbass clothes and lack of brains.” The human Alan shot back. Good, he had learned well!

The man was once again stumped, probably no one but those above him had ever spoken to him like that. Without the System, he would have been an impressive specimen with his height and muscles, from what Xil knew of the so-called Earth.

Here though…

“You don’t know what you’re messing with, boy.” One of the older ones called from a safe distance, coming to the rescue of his braindead leader.

“I’ve killed one of you already, why don’t you run back to Cole and ask him?” the beautiful Ashlyn said with a threatening smile. Xil felt giddy.

“Shut your mouth whore!” The big one yelled. Xil grinned, non-physically speaking.

A blade of shadows shot out and took the man’s outstretched hand, cutting through the leather armor and the flesh all the same. The human Alan was finally shaping up to be deserving of being Xil’s… hm. What was he? Friend? Certainly not a servant, yet.

The large man looked at his missing arm confused, then looked at the ground where the rest of it had fallen, before screaming. A second later his body twitched and he stumbled, falling over.

“Another word from any of you scum and I will kill you all. I am done with the bullshit games. Done.”

Alan said with surprising sadness and anger. Huh, Xil had missed something important. The humans hadn’t talked about their experience there and he hadn’t asked much. Alan seemed changed, on the verge of blowing up and setting his temper loose on a bunch of helpless humans. Not that Xil minded, it just seemed out of character.

A fireball flew and Alan threw himself in front of Ashlyn. Fire and shadows exploded, obscuring Xil’s perception for a moment.

“Alan! No!” Ashlyn yelled, but it was too late.

A dark colorless shadow moved through the humans, leaving a trail of death in its wake.

Xil laughed in glee. The only thing that would made it better was if he was personally wielding the blade.