The Fool's Freedom

Tim opened his mouth to answer when Cole raised his hand.

“Is that what this is about? You kill one of our own by catching him unprepared, and you think that will help you save a murderer?” Cole spat.

When you put it that way…

“Yes?” Alan smiled innocently, which only made Cole grow redder in the face.

“You are just a fool. And you will die like one, no matter how high your level is!” Cole’s eyes roamed around the crowd, stopping on Ashlyn, then Turtle who had yet to move from his original position, and finally on Rosalyn and her people.

He was about to turn and walk away, unwilling to fight before the time limit was even open.

“Wait!”

“What?” Cole asked.

“Can you give up?” Alan asked. There was a commotion starting on the other side of the square and Alan even noticed a flash of magic. Some of the people turned to watch the new fight, having lost interest in the dick measuring. It sounded like there were more than two participants. Alan didn’t blame them. This was not turning into what he had imagined after following his impulsive idea.

He suddenly had a realization. Apart from Walter and Ashlyn, no one knew what he could do and that was scary to those who cared. He was scary to them, the people who had made it a custom to introduce oneself with one’s class. A person who had survived alone out there, only to go out again and return as if nothing had happened.

“Give up? I’ve worked hard to bring peace to the people.” There was booing, which Cole promptly ignored. Alan noticed some of those behind him move toward the source.

“Listen, you… ah, fuck it. All I’m saying is that if you take the leadership, I will kill you for it. You can’t stop me and neither can your people.”

I hope.

“And if you don’t let Emerson go, then I will kill you too. We aren’t that close, but I owe the guy and the loss of human life doesn’t seem to affect me the same anymore. Must be the class,” Alan shrugged and gave his best maniacal smile.

The role of an unhinged asshole was known to him; it had been his type of humor back when he battled with staircases and acted like eventually burning the building was all that kept him going. What was new was having the power to back it up. Now it didn’t sound like a silly joke in poor taste.

Did Cole have anyone who could tell that he was not fully confident? Could someone like Rosalyn feel his uncertainty? Alan didn’t believe he was overestimating himself or Ashlyn, despite everything. The grain of doubt was tinier than ever.

He was sure that, even if he was not the weirdest or strongest, he might as well be one of the hardest to kill. [Monochrome Armor] was simply a great skill, and coupled with mana boosting his movements, he was both fast and well-protected.

Still, skills were many and he was sure some could bring him down.

But he had decided to stir some shit up of his own, instead of only reacting.

“You are threatening me?” Cole asked almost in disbelief.

What was so strange about that?

“I mean… I just killed your dog in front of you? Was I not clear enough?”

There was silence, broken only by the sounds of yet another fight on the other side of the crowd around them.

“He is slow… in the head.” Someone said. The voice sounded bored and tired, and Alan with surprise noticed that it had come from Turtle.

He burst out laughing and so did many others, making Cole’s grimace twist even further. He was quite gifted in that regard.

“I will give you your murderer friend,” Cole relented, but looked like the words physically hurt to say. That was a surprising amount of self-control and honestly made the man that much more dangerous. Alan had hoped for a quick scrap in which to kill Cole by using [True Edge’s] ability to bypass whatever defenses he had.

“I am waiting,” Alan said.

It took only minutes for a group of Cole’s lackeys to bring the tied-up Emerson to the front. The large man looked fine, even if there were some bags under his eyes.

He smiled and broke the symbolic restraints around his hands as if they were nothing, surprising the two men leading him. Alan raised an eyebrow. Had Em been waiting for someone to come for him? And how had they caught him without getting their skulls bashed in?

Emerson walked confidently, each step more ominous than the last, and his smile only grew wider when he saw Alan. He then looked around in wonder at the gathered crowd.

“Alan, you know? Did you gather all these people? Did She reach you too?”

Oh, no. Oh for fuck’s sake.

“Uh, hi Em. The people are gathered because we will vote for a Sanctuary Leader in a couple of hours, and there’s gonna be a massacre.”

“Ah. Good. This is good. But we need to go to my house, but not too close. The System will not allow Her Divinity to descend to a newly integrated world, but a messenger can slip through the cracks, facing fairly bearable repercussions. I have not been blessed with the details.”

“What the fuck are you on about?” As soon as the question left his mouth, Alan started dreading the answer. Was everyone from their original group losing their mind? Was it Florence’s game that had made them unable to bear the weight of power?

“You will see!” Emerson’s face and tone were beaming with anticipation and Alan gaped after the large man he had thought needed saving, as the latter walked away with wide strides.

The people parted to let him through, but Alan was focusing on something else. The very energy around Emerson was different. His very presence had been a bit oppressive when he had stood close.

Alan turned with a large sigh, ready to curse, when he saw Ashlyn’s questioning gaze.

“Where is he going?”

“Home. And I think we might have another problem…”

“Guy… is not right,” said a lazy voice from his other side. Alan hadn’t even noticed Turtle get closer. “I would know… I am similar.”

Alan groaned. Why did things always have to be so complicated?

“What do you mean, Turtle?”

“A god… speaks to me,” he said. “Mine is… lazy though. Does not… care about the world.”

Of course, I will pick up the only other crazy wacko that is connected to an alien god.

“Are you saying that you are in active communication with an actual God? How do you know it’s not a skill or your class fucking with you?”

Turtle was silent for a few seconds, then shrugged. “You would know too.”

Great.

He led Ashlyn and the new friend he had made on a whim toward Rosalyn’s group. She didn’t seem very happy at how things had happened, and Alan wasn’t very happy with how Emerson had just said some weird shit and left.

Overall, no one was happy with anything. There would be time to deal with that.

Can it be true?

The possibility was there. He had met the spirit and he had been to the Transient Bazaar. He was sure his limited by the human experience mind couldn’t comprehend the full extent of the different existences that had walked the streets alongside him.

If it was true, then that was a problem. Who could stop someone powerful enough to mess with the System?

Or were gods under the System too? Most likely. It made sense for that to be the case for some reason. He couldn’t imagine what a god would be like though.

“Your little show didn’t seem to have the effect you wanted?” Rosalyn’s words sounded like both an accusation and a question.

“Em is free. And honestly? I was just letting off some steam. I don’t even want to know how many other people are vying for the leadership. I obviously can’t kill them all, but I can sure as fuck put some pressure on Cole.”

“And on yourself and those around you,” Rosalyn added.

“In a world like this one, pressure is how one grows. I firmly believe stagnation will mean a fate worse than death.”

“Hmm. You’ve changed since yesterday. Does it have something to do with the assassin?”

“Maybe. Or maybe I’ve just accepted the path before me.”

He sure hoped that was it. He felt like himself, but more. With the bonus penchant for drama.

“This is Turtle, by the way.”

Turtle was standing uncomfortably close to Alan, and his eyes were closed. His rhythmic breathing almost made him appear asleep.

“We have met. He ignored me last time.”

A hard feat indeed.

“You know… a lot. But… I like lying,” Turtle slowly said, not bothering to open his eyes. “And I can’t kill. I need… friends who can.”

Alan laughed. “Now that is someone I can trust.”

Rosalyn raised an eyebrow and waved off Arley who was busy offering everyone bottles from a large leather bag.

“For all it’s worth, he lied about liking lying, but I understand that people want to have the option. Did you have to execute someone in cold blood like that?”

“Yes. Times are different. I would rather explore the world outside of this shit forest, but all I can do is struggle to survive here for now. It’s better to remove the dangers. And the System has given me the means to do it, so I will.”

“And you?” Rosalyn turned to Ashlyn.

“I agree with him. I don’t necessarily care about this place. I think I can do fine outside, but it is also good to have access to the Temple and all the non-combat classes have to offer.”

Rosalyn nodded. “I see.”

Alan put his hand on the woman’s shoulder, making her eyes go wide. “Don’t be too down, Rosalyn. I will still help you murder the one who takes on the leadership role. I want to see what will happen. Who knows, there might be a title in for the taking or something.”

“I know of a guy that hunts titles! He knows of some easy ones to grab,” Arley said from the side. Alan chuckled. Titles had come to Alan on their own, without him actively seeking them. Would risking his life and doing extremely stupid things bring him more titles and bonuses?

A possibility worth exploring one day.

For now, he would wait and prepare for his still indeterminate role in all of this. There was anticipation bubbling inside of him. It was growing stronger each time he acted on his whims and did things that might seem ‘evil’ or ‘unhinged’. It screamed ‘more’.

Alan closed his eyes for a moment, but something made him snap to attention. Next to him, Rosalyn looked shocked, as if she had been told something unbelievable. An inconspicuous necklace Alan hadn’t even noticed started glowing on her neck.

“EVERYONE!” she spoke. Her voice carried over, drowning the sounds of combat coming from different places around the World Temple. It was not simply louder; it was overpowering and demanding attention. “PREPARE TO DEFEND THE SANCTUARY AND YOUR LIVES!”

A pillar of light fell from the sky and hit the golden barrier that kept them safe from the world and allowed them to murder one another in peace.

The barrier held for a few seconds before a small hole appeared. It did not break, but instead gave way to the light allowing it to pass and reach the Sanctuary beneath.

Oh no.

It fell exactly where Emerson’s place was.

***

Emerson walked to his dwelling, excited to fulfill his sacred duty. What was life without purpose? Empty, void of hope and meaning.

He still did not understand why the stars had spoken to him that night, but he knew that Gods were real and one had blessed him. All he could do was bring the joy of Her glory to the rest of the lost people in the Sanctuary.

He was sure it would lead to good.

The dreams in which he walked Her halls were the happiest moments of his life. His newfound power which promised to cleanse the world of evil was intoxicating. He knew who he was though, and he knew that he was only beginning.

The deaths had been necessary. He had been warned that trapping souls in their mortal shells was dangerous, but it was needed for the ritual to bypass the System’s protections. Gods were not allowed to directly interact with the newly integrated worlds, lest they drove their dwellers insane.

But the Goddess was gentle and pure. Emerson did not understand why the System would deprive them of her gifts.

One by one, those who wanted him to fail his holy quest, led by the unclean remnants of the old worlds, had come to him. He was grateful, as he did not want to hurt the good people trying to survive in the Sanctuary.

The Holy Voice had told him they were evil, so it was okay to kill them. He still felt bad, but it was better for a few rotten apples to fall and contribute to the wellness of everyone else.

Emerson grabbed his System-given mace and walked to the center of the formation he had created. He knelt, putting the head of the weapon in front of him.

And he began praying.

“Bringer of Purity, Cleanser of Worlds. Heed my call and grace this land with Your gaze. I offer these souls as a bridge between this world and the Holy Domain where those without sins may live forever. Allow us respite in Your Embrace, and purge the unholy from our lands. Deliver us from evil, and bring us peace.”

It was slow at first, but he sensed the energy around transforming into something similar to what fueled his few Holy skills. The air shimmered and the souls of the unclean screamed in terror as they were dragged out and torn apart to serve as fuel for what was to come.

There would be punishment for the use of souls, but it would be worth it.

Emerson turned his gaze to the skies and watched as space twisted and holy white light crashed into the System’s golden dome.

He once again wondered why was not something so pure and good allowed in.

It was not right.

The world shivered as the barrier gave way and the light struck the ground a mere few meters from Emerson. A form was slowly forming inside.

The promised Hierophant.

Emerson rejoiced and then became confused as many smaller forms flew out of the pillar and fell around the Sanctuary. He did not know of this. Would salvation for his people come in such a strange form? Were those gifts, perhaps?

***

The citizens of Sanctuary 142 watched as the pillar of white broke the barrier that had saved them from the horrors of the forest. Small beams of light flew out from it and fell, breaking many of the newly erected buildings as if the Sanctuary was under siege.

Stones of different sizes remained where the light had hit, and slowly uncurled into five-legged crab-like creatures. Each limb was a blade that promised violence.

Screams and chaos followed.

And death.