The Fool's Freedom

Alan had a good sleep after he returned to his room.

It was dreamless and relaxing and when he woke up, he felt as if his body and mind had been rebuilt from the ground up.

Without a clock or a window to see the position of the sun from, he had no idea how long he had slept.

However, he still had the quest timer for choosing a leader, which showed that there was a little more than a day. Now, if he had looked at it before going to bed too…

He dressed and stretched. The events of last night were fresh in his mind, but they didn’t bother him in the slightest now. It was him or her. He could’ve always shown mercy, leaving her with her life, but then he would just have another reason to be paranoid.

He didn’t want to be paranoid, so he would not leave any possibilities for retaliation. If someone wanted him dead, he simply had to kill them and all that would seek revenge in their name first.

Cruel, but true. The System world was one of constant danger, where death was as common as trees. There was no place for mercy now.

Maybe one day, when they manage to rebuild a semblance of a normal society like the myriad of other worlds subject to the System. The Bazaar was proof it was possible. That day was far, though, and Old Greyheart’s words still echoed in his mind. There would be some who would look upon their world as a treasure trove, ripe for the picking.

Humanity be damned, but Alan planned to be a tough meatball to swallow.

He felt the resolve clearer than ever and took a deep, slow, refreshing breath.

Killing Nadia in the dumbest of scenarios had shown him what he had to do.

Congratulations. Your trait has advanced.

Really? All it took was a bit of murder and deciding to be a selfish piece of shit?

Survivor’s Will has become Broken One’s Will

That… did not sound very right. He was doing much better, nothing was broken. Especially not his… well the moral compass was already dust, but his mind was there. Maybe not as stable as he would have liked it to be, and maybe not as clear on what was going on.

Hmm.

Trait: Broken One’s Will (Epic)

You persevere through hardship and pain, dancing between life, death, and disappointment and holding on only due to your strong will to live. Your path has left you scarred and broken, but you do not succumb. Wear your scars as weapons.

+20% to your Will attribute.

Mental attacks affect you less the closer you are to death.

It takes more to kill you than it would a regular human.

You gain the ability to manifest your Will – an ability that is unique to whoever wields it. Project one’s true self upon the world.

Broken One… Like the monk class I passed on?

It was only a slight change in mindset, yet he had an (Epic) trait. And it was insane. A twenty percent boost was a lot.

The biggest change in the trait though, apart from the percentage bonus and the text, was the skill… was it even a skill? It didn’t appear in his skill tab.

It didn’t feel like he had a new skill, and no new knowledge appeared in his mind as it typically happened. Try as it may, it simply did not work.

What did it even mean to project one’s will upon the world?

Like telekinesis? Fucking System… explain things better!

He flexed a few times, tried to reach deep down, and even went into a deep focus state in which he could feel the flow of energy around him. Nothing seemed to work.

Alan grunted and dressed himself, donning the beaten-up leather armor. It was still holding up, despite the trials and hardship it had suffered.

The wound left by Nadia’s dagger still hurt when he moved his shoulder; he was able to use [Warlock’s Body Mastery] redirection of mana and stamina toward healing even while asleep, so it was already a bit better.

Is this what having higher Vitality would be like?

The wound was doing good. He was thankful she hadn’t owned a poison dagger, as was traditional for assassins.

Then again, she had been an assassin using light skills. A curiosity case for sure.

Alan exited the room and knocked on Ashlyn’s door. He waited for a minute but didn’t hear any sounds nor did the door open, so he shrugged and went downstairs.

The great hall of the tavern was in the same state he had last left it in. People were drinking and playing, the shadowy corner had a few people acting all mysterious and dangerous, and the musician was… sleeping on the bar, hugging his stringed instrument and a bottle.

Alan saw Ashlyn chatting with some man and went over with an expectant smile. It was rare for her to talk to strangers like that. The man was one of the most physically defined human beings Alan had ever seen, suddenly making him aware of his own body. It had gotten better, but he was still way too skinny for his height.

“Oh, hey sleeping beauty. How are you feeling?” Ashlyn asked with a smile.

“Like a million rats suddenly screamed and died at once.”

The large man chuckled, his deep voice revibrating through the air. Alan looked at him curiously and Ashlyn got the hint.

“This is Socorro. He used to be a bodybuilder and we were talking about potential exercises to organically increase attributes.”

“I’m Alan. Just tell me, did you get lots of bonuses for being jacked?” Alan asked. The question might’ve been a bit rude but the man did not indicate being offended.

Socorro nodded, a sweet smile on his face. “It did. I am quite fortunate that the hard work paid off in such a way when the world ended. Can I interest you in some breakfast? It is unconventional but very rich in protein.”

He offered Alan a bowl filled with nothing but meat. There were also a few rose apples and some other strange fruits on the table.

Alan realized he was surprisingly hungry and took the offer with much enthusiasm, gorging on the food. All the while he listened to Ashlyn and Socorro discuss the potential benefits of exercise in the System world.

It was reasonable to assume not everything amounted to attributes.

“Come to think of it,” Alan joined the conversation while still chewing, “I’ve gotten a few increases in my mental attributes here and there. Mostly by tolerating pain…”

“Really?” Socorro asked, “That’s great! I have managed to raise my physical attributes a bit, but not much. Only one or two points. Maybe someday we can try doing the same for you…? Ashlyn told me a bit about your condition and how you overcame it.”

Ashlyn looked toward Alan with some guilt, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. And I’ve had a similar thought before. I’m down, and I appreciate the offer. Hopefully, we won’t all die before we get the chance to do it. It’s gonna be a busy few days.”

Socorro seemed unsure whether to laugh or not, so he just nodded and took another piece of meat.

Alan continued eating until he was full and then some. His aided digestion would easily take care of everything. Bless the System.

It was not much later when Rosalyn joined them at their table. Socorro quickly excused himself. Even the sweet sculpted mass of muscles that he was showed discomfort when faced with her.

“What did you do to make them fear you like that?” Alan asked instead of greeting her. He was in no mood for fake pleasantries today.

“I forced a few troublemakers to share their deepest and most shameful secrets in front of a crowd of people. It did wonders for my image and the order here, but not much for my social life.”

Oh wow. That was one application of her skills that could be instrumental in building a society. People adored shaming other people.

“That’s harsh,” Ashlyn said, seemingly a bit more uncomfortable in the woman’s presence now.

“So, you can ask me something, and then force me to reply truthfully? Is it like a compulsion? Can you make people do anything else?” Alan asked, uncaring about the stare Ashlyn threw at him.

Rosalyn’s eyebrow shot up. She remained silent and thoughtful for a few seconds.

“I can only force people to answer truthfully,” she smiled mischievously, showing a bit of teeth. “Do you want to try?”

Alan nodded, “Sure! Not here, though. Don’t want everyone to know about my skill or my secrets.”

“Alan!” Ashlyn exclaimed from the side.

“What? It’s good to try stuff. Who knows what other skills are out there if every second person we meet can fuck with our heads.”

Rosalyn stood up. There was something else in her movements now, but Alan couldn’t quite detect it.

The three of them made their way toward the underground ‘office’. Ashlyn wanted to have no part in the little experiment, but still reluctantly agreed after Alan expended some effort convincing her that Rosalyn could very well be a murderer or a brain-eating maniac waiting for her chance.

Rosalyn took it all in stride and laughed along. She seemed thankful to have people who didn’t seem that insistent on avoiding her lie detection.

Alan sat down on the large couch and Rosalyn did the same, while Ashlyn remained standing and scowling.

“Let me warn you, my skill has a backlash effect. Do you want me to only take it, or do you want me to hit back?” Alan asked. The choice of words he had made seemed a bit weird when they left his mouth. Ashlyn groaned, and he cringed, feeling blood rush to his face.

Good job, myself. Fucking idiot.

“Hit me. I want to see what you are capable of,” Rosalyn shot back.

“Get to it,” Ashlyn barked impatiently. She was against experiments like this one.

“Here I go. Step back a bit further back, Ashlyn. While I can tell whenever someone lies, I need a combination of skills to force out the truth. One of them affects an area, so… just to be safe.”

“Sure thing.”

Ashlyn leaned on the far wall and kept watching. Alan noticed she was fiddling with the handle of her new enchanted hand-axe. What did it do again?

There was a change in the flow of energy. It was getting easier to tell. Alan recognized the telltale signs of a skill being cast, but he saw no other effects nor did he feel different.

“Let’s try this first,” Rosalyn said. “Lie to me after I ask you a question.”

“Sure.”

“Is Salla’s cooking tasty?”

Alan tried to speak, but nothing came out. He was trying to say ‘no’ because her cooking was very good considering the limited ingredients, she had access to. Alan tried to force his mouth to cooperate.

“This is my [Zone of Truth]. You can either stay silent or answer truthfully. So far, no one has managed to work around it. The longer you stay silent the more uncomfortable you will feel.”

It was weird, his [Shadow Mind] didn’t react at all. Maybe the skill wasn’t considered dangerous by the skill, or maybe it didn’t affect his mind directly.

“Yes, damn it. It’s delicious.” The relief was instant.

Rosalyn smiled, “Now for the fun part.”

“Do you find me attractive?”

That bitch… Alan felt a pang of anger but suppressed it.

“Answer!” she ordered.

Instantly he felt the reaction as something slammed into his mind. It was a force unlike anything he had ever experienced and it didn’t simply go away once it met an obstacle. Alan felt a different type of strain as the battle of skills went on.

Rosalyn looked perfectly fine. There was a hint of a smile on her face.

[Shadow Mind’s] backlash went off, and her eyes widened. Alan watched as she looked around and exhaled, then the smile returned to her face.

The fuck…

He felt his protection crack, but the force behind her compelling skill was gone too and it fizzled out just as his mouth opened against his will.

“Ye—,” he shut it with a clack of teeth, barely avoiding biting his tongue. His skill had failed, but it seemed he had managed to partly suppress the effect.

He glared. Rosalyn returned his gaze with a raised eyebrow.

“Should I leave the room?” Ashlyn asked. Alan coughed, and shook his head. It felt heavy as if he had just spent the past few hours solving impossible equations.

There is no shame in finding people attractive.

Rosalyn laughed. “I am just teasing. You have an interesting skill though. Unfortunately for you, it doesn’t work on me.”

“Why?”

“I can’t tell you all of my secrets, can I? What will you share in return?”

“How about,” Ashlyn interjected, “Where did you go last night?”

That caught him off guard, “You knew?”

“My senses are like that of a hungry house cat. Of course, I know. I just decided you might need a rest.”

“I did. And I feel much better. Nadia tried to kill me though, so she’s gone…” he said it as if it was nothing important. And it didn’t feel like it was.

“What?” “What?”

Both women were suddenly upon him. Rosalyn had released her skill, but Alan felt no need to hide anything or lie as he told them the full truth. He refused to show them the wound which the new shirt he had put on covered.

“I feel fine. It was kind of therapeutic,” he said.

“To kill a woman?” Rosalyn countered with a scowl.

“More like to survive an assassin. Don’t make it into something it doesn’t have to be.”

Rosalyn sighed. “You could’ve taken her alive, and I could have interrogated her. Did you think about that?”

“Well… no.” Damn, that would have been the smart and tactical thing, “But in my defense, I almost died…”

“I will kill you for that later. Now, hear me out Rosalyn,” Ashlyn interrupted, “Can’t you just use your skills to force those gang leaders to show the rest of the Sanctuary what bastards they are?”

“I could. Then what?”

Ashlyn seemed unsure, “Well, then they vote for you and all is good?”

“Ashlyn,” Alan said, “I don’t think there is a way out of this without a lot of bloodshed. Think about it. We vote as if we’re in a democracy, but then if someone managed to kill the elected Sanctuary Leader, they become it.

It’s meaningless. It’s all a ruse to show us that everything in a System world is about personal power and the sooner we learn that the better. Who cares what the people want? We will fall into a pattern of constant killings which will eventually lead to the end of this place if the one on top is not strong enough. Truth doesn’t matter.”

Ashlyn sullenly sat down, while Rosalyn gravely nodded. “Yes. And I think it is time we go unless we want to miss the execution and the... ensuing fun.”

Alan felt his fingers twitch. And what fun it will be.