The Fool's Freedom

He jumped down from the ruin and rolled, ending on his feet. His shadow merged with his body and he felt the world slow down. The darkness parted before his eyes. A weird sense of satisfaction washed over him as [Monochrome Armor] manifested.

His daggers were in his hands, covered in writhing shadows.

But there was no enemy in sight. The pain in his shoulder was thumping, and there was a bit of a smell of seared flesh. An enchanted weapon?

“Where are they?” Alan mentally asked the demon. Xil was good at these things.

“Here somewhere. I know they are. But I cannot find them. I can… speak to them though.”

“Wait and distract them when there is an opportunity.”

Alan carefully walked around the ruin, ready to move in an instant. His eyes seemed to see farther and better in the darkness now than they had before.

Shadows are my friends. Whoever thinks they can hide from me…

Alan tried to focus without closing his eyes. The strands of energy that was his body were instantly clear to him. As clear as an insanely complicated weave was to the uninitiated. It also seemed difficult to extend his perception without a state of deeper focus.

He didn’t want to remain blind though. The previous attack had been too close, despite the many warnings. Whoever he was up against, they were fast. Not faster than him in [Monochrome Armor].

What the would-be assassin didn’t know though, was that he was not alone. He hadn’t spoken a single word, only talking with Xil’Garoth with his mind all evening.

“To the left of you, there was a shimmer. The grass is also moving. They are not truly invisible, just bending the light.”

Was that not what all invisibility was? Florence’s ring probably functioned similarly. He knew little about chameleons or light.

Alan pretended his eyes were roaming, but he noticed what Xil had pointed out. A glimmer of reflection, a pair of feet displacing the grass, crushing it.

Alan crept closer ever so slightly.

“Show yourself,” he yelled, turning to the other side.

With a boost of mana, his speed exploded and a [Shadow Slash] flew toward the shimmering figure. There was a yelp as someone clumsily dodged to the side. A few drops of blood flew and fell among the strands of grass.

Just a scratch. Fuck.

The movement revealed a dark-clad figure. It was a thin woman. Her features were covered with a shawl wrapped around her mouth and hair. Only her eyes were left bare.

“Who the fuck are you? Can’t I catch a break? Is this so fucking much to ask?” Alan started complaining, there was a flash of confusion in the woman’s eyes.

“You—”

He burst in motion as soon as the first letter left the assassin’s mouth and sent two shadow slashes to each side of her while continuing his forward charge. He prepared to cast another as soon as his blade touched her, but with a flash of light, she disappeared.

[First Pathfinder] tingled.

A spatial skill. Fuck me.

He felt the energy at his back and instantly spun on his heel and sliced with one dagger while holding the other at the ready-to-block. The assassin stopped her attack mid-strike and with impossible speed blocked his strike, leaving his arm numb. She threw his dagger off easily by raising her arm.

She’s stronger. Of course.

It didn’t matter. [Synaptic Failure] had not failed him against a human yet, but just as the skill went off her whole person shimmered with light and the skill lost its target. Alan felt the mana disappear but the skill didn’t connect at all.

Her attacks came rapidly, and he could keep up only due to [Monochrome Armor]. Her speed grew faster and faster but her attacks seemed to become lighter. She was unknowingly giving up her biggest advantage, trying to become faster than him.

She had no technique or skill; it was just a flurry of simple stabs and slashing attacks. Alan figured he could do better after all the fighting he had been through. His opponent seemed greener than him in that area at least.

Still, it was very hard to counterattack in his current position. He was not in a hurry though, the attacks landed harmlessly on his oversized daggers and he finally felt the heat coming from one of her blades.

His shoulder was aching from where she had wounded him, but the pain only made him sharper. He figured if he had something like Florence’s [Battle Focus] the fight would already have been over.

But he didn’t, so he continued to tank the flurry. He barely felt the strikes anymore and the assassin must’ve sensed it. He felt another spatial disturbance as his attacker disappeared mid-swing and reappeared behind him.

The armor absorbed the two lightning-fast strikes without breaking, and Alan grinned as the woman cursed, then quickly looked around in confusion, her eyes wide. He turned toward her at that very moment and another [Synaptic Failure] went off, finally connecting.

Another flash of light and the woman was about five meters away, struggling to stay upright. She had managed to cast the skill in time? Or did it somehow circumvent the effects of [Synaptic Failure] Alan boosted himself and reached her in a second.

He felt his dagger break the skin and pushed it deep into her flesh, while his other hand dropped the second dagger and held on to her forearm. She was stronger for sure, but she would be hard-pressed to escape with a dagger going all the way through her abdomen.

He could see his blade exit her back. The shadows were unmarred by the blood quickly spreading around the wound.

“Who are you? Hm?”

In response, her free hand tried to stab at him, but she had no strength, and the shadows protecting him easily stopped her attack. He put his leg behind her knee and pushed her down on the handle of his dagger until she fell backward.

He knelt next to her never letting go of the blade in her stomach. The hand he had grabbed was free of a weapon; she had probably dropped it when he rammed into her. However, she still clutched the heated blade in her left arm.

Alan watched how it singed the grass for a moment. Then he quickly changed hands and took it from her, holding it to her neck. The enchanted heat quickly started burning at the shawl and she screamed as it licked at her skin. He removed it and then stabbed it into the ground next to her. Then pulled at the cloth obscuring her features. He was curious.

A familiar face

“Nadia? The fuck?”

“Hey, Alan,” She tried to smile and seem confident. She was very far from that. He saw her lip quivering, and the budding tears in her eyes.

“Why are you trying to kill me, Nadia?” Was it Cole? Was it Tim? And more curiously, how had she ended up as a light-based assassin? The System never ceased to amaze him.

“I thought…” a cough interrupted her. There was a speck of blood on her lips now, but Alan was sure she would be fine. People with classes were resilient. Sometimes.

“I thought it would be fun,” she finally got out and tried to smile.

Fun? Of all things?

“Why would it be fun to kill me, Nadia?”

Has she lost her mind to her class? Is everyone going to end like that?

She coughed again, and then spoke, “I never… liked you. Never. Always so… arrogant. You thought you were better… than everyone. I killed many… I am strong now. Ah. Tim was next… he tried to use me.”

Yep, she’s lost it. Shame.

Alan sighed and pulled out the dagger from her stomach. He did it carelessly and she screamed as the blade cut more flesh. He ignored her and stood up.

“That bitch is gone. I might have heard of something like this… probably. You know my memory is hazy. Your kind must’ve had absolutely zero magic, huh?”

“Yeah.”

He watched as Nadia tried to reach her fallen dagger, turning over and crawling towards it. Why was she doing this? Did she think she could still fight? She must’ve stalked him for quite a while, and saw her perfect chance now, that he was alone.

“What will you do if I help you, Nadia? Will you leave me alone” Alan asked. His dagger felt very comfortable in his hand. He felt calm now.

“Yes… I promise. I will kill… Tim.”

He sighed. “But you see, I don’t believe you. And I don’t care about Tim, or Cole, or any of you motherfuckers. I just want to see how far I can go. And that entails killing a lot of humans, that much is certain. It shouldn’t be that different from killing anything else, but it is.”

Nadia struggled to stand up and Alan let her. There was a flash of light and she appeared a few meters away and crumbled on the grass. He easily shortened the distance by taking a few steps.

“Why run? Isn’t it as fun as you envisioned?”

She suddenly screamed and clutched at her head, “What is this voice?! Stop mocking me!”

Huh?

“Xil?”

“Sorry man, demon stuff.”

Alan stopped and watched the woman try to run. The blood loss was getting to her. The wound was wide and went all the way through. He didn’t know enough about anatomy to know what exactly he had damaged, but he was sure a normal person wouldn’t have struggled as long.

I shouldn’t torture her like this.

“Sorry, Nadia. I didn’t even know you existed before the System came. I was a bad coworker, going through the motions.” He once again quickly shortened the distance between the two, leaving shadows in his path. “And soon I will forget all about you once again. We are all changing too fast to cling to a past that no longer serves us. Goodbye.”

The blade of shadows cleanly separated her head from her body and it rolled down the soft grass. A whiff of blood reached him but the wind quickly made it disappear, as if it was all a dream.

You have slain: Human [Assassin] (16)

Only level 16? She had been quite strong. He felt no danger after that initial attack though. Then again, the difference in level was only in the attributes. There were no extra skills after level 10.

Maybe it is different for different classes?

The shadows around him swirled much more violently as [Monochrome Armor] seemed to react to the use of his shadow inventory, but he didn’t care. The bottle appeared in his hand and he took a large sip, his eyes never leaving the fresh corpse.

Just a woman he had not known and who had seemed to dislike him. A woman who had lost someone dear to her, and then herself.

Her heated dagger was in the grass, and Alan asked Xil to help him locate the other one. The demon happily agreed. He was in a good mood, now. Violence made him happy.

It seemed only one of the daggers was enchanted. It was shorter than Alan’s and there were strange cracks and warps on the blade, but it still gave off heat.

He turned the body over and looked for any other items of note, but he found none.

With a sigh and a surge of movement, he widened the distance, then took out Florence’s wand and cast a fireball at the corpse, hoping that would be enough.

It looked like a cozy bonfire for a time.

***

Ashlyn sat on the bed, holding her knees. She wanted to sleep, she needed to sleep. To shut the call of the beast that had wormed inside of her head out. To find peace just for a moment.

It was fine when she was with Alan and they were doing things. Distractions felt amazing, but they were not a solution. Just that—distractions. She had used her [Imitate Predator] skill a lot more than any other. It felt good to fight with no restraint, to feel the wildness and the strength of a true predator coursing through her veins.

It was sublime.

She did not remember anything from the last fight in the Dungeon at first, but now memories were coming back. Like waking dreams, they raced through her mind, randomly popping up and making her aware of the power she had wielded.

Of the power, she could have again.

The beast wanted her and whispered in her blood. Using the skill again would not go without consequences, she was sure. If she used the pale werewolf blood, that is. This was not her path though. She was the hunter, and predators were her prey.

She would prevail like she always did. When her new bow was ready, she wouldn’t need to rely on [Imitate Predator] so much.

Ashlyn sighed and closed her eyes. Just for a moment, there was silence. Then the beast tried to entice her again, like a warm bed enticed one who was about to go to work on a winter Monday.

With a grunt, she stood up and put on her clothes. She needed company. And a stronger drink.

***

There was no light in his cell. It was more of a small room with no windows or light source than anything built with a purpose. The door was right there, he could see it as clear as day despite the darkness.

Emerson did not mind being held captive. He had already found purity and it resided deep inside of him. To be chosen by a real God had made him ecstatic. All of his life until this moment seemed meaningless; the struggles of a mortal who couldn’t see further than his next paycheck or the pretty girls around him. It was sad to think about.

He had done what had been asked of him. At first, he had felt bad. No matter who, killing was wrong. That’s what he had believed. The reality of the apocalypse had made him prepare himself; he knew how these things went.

Humans were not to be trusted in crisis. That’s what his father had always said, bless his soul. A firefighter would know those things, and Emerson made sure to listen each time.

It turned out he was right. Humans could not be trusted and sometimes a person had to do bad things for the good of everyone.

They were lost, like lambs without a shepherd. He had heard some preach the word of the old religions, but it had quickly died down. No divine help had come.

He was the exception. He was chosen to help everyone.

The first kill had been too easy, and even somewhat intriguing. He still had many questions, but the Goddess had answered only a select few. She guided his hand and his thoughts, and he was grateful.

First, they had to deal with the System barring Gods from influencing the world.

Everything had been prepared; the bodies were laid out in perfect symmetry and the holy words were spoken. Even from his cell, he could hear the scraps of divinity around the world gather in the array he had made.

He would not die here.

SHE would not let a [Novice Paladin] fall before the array activated.

It was a matter of time now.

A true Hierophant would descend, and all would rejoice.