The Fool's Freedom

The battle began without much fanfare. The human side was disorganized and chaotic, and Alan felt the turbulence of mana everywhere around as if millions of strands of energy were intertwining and passing by each other without interference.

For a moment he lost himself imagining what it would look like to see the flow of all the skills and all the lives that were present here. All the power.

Then the chaos took over and he joined the fray, preparing to use his last cast of shadowy armor if anything dangerous reached him. Or if anyone decided to get rid of him in the chaotic melee.

It was a possibility.

Then again, nothing made people forget their differences like a common enemy. It helped that the common enemy in question came in an alien package.

Alan threw a glance toward the one on the chair. As far as he could tell from the disgusting expression of the alien, he seemed bored and disappointed. Alan had expected a grand speech or something. An explanation or a call to join him as Emerson had done.

Nothing of the sort had happened. Whatever God that bastard served was probably not interested in a bunch of barely walking toddlers who had yet to understand the gravity of their situation and the opportunities before them.

Alan was pretty sure the alien was after the World Temple for some reason, and that the System would allow him to have it if it was won fair and square.

By killing us all.

Alan chased the questions away and focused on using his staff to spam shadow slashes left and right, aiming for the smaller spawn who were charging in droves, backed up by the bigger ones.

There was no strategy in the slaughter. Blood, chitin, and strange liquids flew everywhere, staining the grass and the rocks.

A man dressed in green was carefully creating and throwing balls of acid that seemed to eat away at the chitin quite fast, slowing the spawn and destroying them second by second. He seemed quite afraid to touch his own skill and Alan couldn’t imagine what he had gone through.

He also saw Socorro, the bodybuilder from the Elven Trunk. The man was all shiny and bronze. There were wounds on his body from all the blades, but they were shallow and closing fast enough to be seen by the naked eye. His punches were heavy but slow, denting the white armor covering them. The spawn were not interested in dodging making him almost a perfect opponent for them.

Many others showcased their arsenal of amazing skills. Most were using projectiles of different nature, but there were few who were using flashy skills.

The Top Rabbit whom Rosalyn had told him about was one of them. The young man in the rabbit mask was moving in flashes of lightning and touching the spawn, before jumping back to his original position or the next enemy. A few seconds later the ones he touched exploded in blue electric light. It didn’t do all that much, but it certainly did more than Alan’s slashes.

Alan moved with the backline, standing between the ones with the biggest range and those who needed to be in melee. He wanted to go for the main guy, but he didn’t want to do it alone.

This was a raid boss if he had ever seen one. And Emerson would probably also get involved. Alan wondered if there was a point in trying to save his former coworker. The little he knew from their interactions after they found each other was that he was a good guy. Even if he lived, the guilt would destroy him.

After all, his actions had led and were continuing to lead to a lot of unnecessary death and destruction.

I will cross that bridge when I get to it.

The energy counter was growing steadily once again. There were only a few of the centaur-like spawn, but they still stood behind, uncaring about the slaughter, forming a protective half-circle around the throne.

There were many casualties on the human side too. Those who could go toe to toe with the purespawn were few, and the front line was rapidly shrinking as people retreated with missing limbs and wounds that would kill a normal person.

At one point, Alan saw Socorro try to flee; the bronze shine on his body rapidly gave way to supple skin. Alan sent a few charged blades toward the large spawn trying to gut the large man and cast [Synaptic Failure] for the first time. The skills hit the spawn and made it freeze for less than two seconds before it continued chasing its prey with no hesitation or difficulty.

Good thing I didn’t rely on it earlier.

A barrage from the casters behind managed to give Socorro enough time to flee and take a rest. Another man with two swords and a woman with a bat took his place distracting the thing while its armor got chipped down ever so slowly.

Until Ashlyn came out of nowhere and landed on its back. Her blow made the hammer sink deep inside of the purespawn and her second ended it. Alan noticed her wild snarl. Her eyes were glowing red and her veins seemed to be bulging, pressed to her skin by her muscles.

Oh, Ash.

Alan felt a quick pang of terror that quickly passed.

She didn’t go for the humans as he expected her, instead focusing on another unlucky purespawn. She quickly became focal in destroying the creatures, one by one. Alan did his best to assist, but he was saving his strength for the bored humanoid still sitting with its wide mouth half open in a chuckle.

Emerson hadn’t moved at all during this time.

Alan lost Ashlyn from sight as she rampaged like a wild beast with the hammer in hand. Someone else drew his attention though.

A man in black clothes sporting a billowing cape and tight bodysuit. Not a cloak, but an actual cape.

Superguy?

He was hovering in the air in front of the being on the improvised throne.

Alan was impressed both by the fact that someone could already fly and that this someone was stupid enough to confront the ‘boss’ alone and dress like he was dressed.

Is he talking to it?

The being seemed unamused and the battlefield was momentarily washed in the strange aura. The alien raised a lazy finger and pointed toward the flying person.

There was a bright flash as a spear of pure white appeared for an instant, before crashing into the shield protecting the World Temple far behind them. The sound was deafening, but the shield seemed to hold.

The same could not be said of the flying person, who dropped down from the sky screaming and missing half of his torso. He fell near the centaur spawn but none of them moved to finish the job, letting him scream for a whole minute until eventually, he lost the strength to continue.

The horrifying scene didn’t stop the humans from exploding with anger-fueled strength, pushing back the wall of purespawn between the throne and them.

Alan made sure to tag as many creatures as possible and most of the time he received a message for the kill. Contributing was important. He was sure he would not pass someone like Ashlyn, but if leadership went to her, it would still be considered a success.

The man on the throne did not move again and no one else dared to try and attack him alone.

Alan had briefly felt jealous of the flying man, but that passed the moment his fate became certain. Now he wondered what it would be like to command such power as the alien

His thoughts were washed away as a voice rumbled through them.

“Ah, this is enough. Why are you all so weak? Polluting such a ripe world… trash.”

The man stood up and the throne warped to create chitinous footholds beneath his bare clawed feet. He took a few steps making the white structure shift. Then raised both of his hands and Alan felt the air become heavier.

The still-living purespawn retreated as one, uncaring that stopping their attack alleviated a lot of the pressure the humans were under and allowed the latter to let out their anger unimpeded. It soon didn’t matter.

“In the name of the Szirsaxal the All-Pure, the Cleanser of Worlds, the one to whom I will gift this treasure trove of a world, I say to you worms… suffer!”

Small spheres of pure white shot out from the man’s mouth and hung in the air like balloons. They reminded Alan of the [Light Ball] spell, but they were certainly not the same.

[Mortal Peril] screamed in his head as the spheres started dropping and he cast [Monochrome Armor] in a panic. He carefully weaved between the falling orbs of death. Many tried to tank them or shoot them out of the air, while few even ignored them, trusting their defenses.

Few brushed against his shadow armor, making it melt from the force behind the slow fall. Alan felt the holes appear and quickly willed his mana to recharge the armor.

The spheres did not explode but splattered on the ground only for spikes to shoot out and skewer anyone who had remained too close a second later. The battlefield was once again filled with moans of pain and death, as it became a labyrinth of pure white sea urchin shells.

A large woman in front of Alan took one of the spheres head-on, and her body seemed to cave in even before it had reached her. Her head popped like a ripe watermelon, then the rest followed. Alan was pretty used to the gore already, but the sight terrified him to the bone.

He managed to avoid almost all until one of the spheres he had just dodged reached the ground and turned into a mess of spikes a bit too close. He didn’t manage to dodge in time and one broke through the shadow armor in an instant before cutting deeply into his calf.

Thankfully that was all it seemed to do.

Alan barely managed to avoid being skewered by another few, until finally, he found himself on the other side of the newly created danger zone of spikes and death.

There were splatters of blood and flesh that used to be humans coloring the white bone-like material. Many remained immobilized, held in place by the spear-like protrusions embedded in their flesh.

Alan frantically searched for Ashlyn and finally found her in the distance. She was still under the effect of [Imitate Predator] and the few bloody gashes on her body were healing rapidly. The effect seemed much stronger than before. She waved the large hammer to break spikes and free the people who still lived.

He didn’t have the time to be glad that she hadn’t lost her mind like last time as he suddenly realized where he was.

Oh, fuck me.

Most people had escaped back toward the Sanctuary and were on the other side of the forest of spikes. Many were stuck between the sharp chitin spears.

And he was on the other side, between the alien man and his army, and the barbed field. He could see Emerson a mere ten or so meters away. There was no time to think about him.

The being was studying Alan with a frown, as much as one with three eyes and a jagged row of teeth that separated almost his whole head could frown.

“Shadowless? Here?” the man spoke and Alan felt himself get ready to run. “No, no. You just borrow strength from them. Are you in a pact with one? It isn’t unheard of. It would be trouble for me and the church if we offended the shadowless. Answer me, puny one. Be pure in your words and you may yet be allowed to live.”

Alan’s mind swirled. The shadowless were mentioned in the description of his skill, but other than that he knew next to nothing about them. Should he lie and try to make the being retreat? Fuck, if Rosalyn could tell lies from the truth so easily, could this creature in front of him? It represented a God to some degree but its power was obviously not at its highest, otherwise there would be no need for all the battling and drama.

Fuck it. I say no I die. I lie and he knows, I die. I lie and it works, there’s a chance.

“Yes, I have a pact—”

“LIAR!” The being screamed. The white mass that had been a throne before warped and brought him down almost next to Alan with preternatural agility.

The staff was long put away in Alan’s shadow inventory and he was clutching a glowing ritual dagger in his hand.

“But there is something about you… you have left this world, hmm. Such a troublesome ant, but it’s good that you did not die against the spawn. Yes, it would be more trouble. I will cage you and examine you. Your flesh and your soul will tell me the truth.” The monster was talking more to itself than to Alan,

“Isn’t tampering with the soul… forbidden?” Alan asked and cursed internally at his big mouth, making the being open its jaw wide in a weird expression.

“You DARE speak… but yes, it is. Unfortunately for you, this world is still new and isolated by the System. The overlords of this galaxy will not care about a few ants, and while the System is all present it follows rules. And where there are rules, there are ways to go around them.” The alien thing giggled. “I will simply bring you beyond the border, into the domain of my Goddess. So do not worry. Death will not be the end for you. Who knows? You might be lucky and become pure… like me.”

Its strange hand reached toward Alan and he felt something encroach on his mind. It was like a steel chain much different than Florence’s or Rosalyn’s skills. He could not think clearly as [Shadow Mind] reacted and sent a counterattack that was simply… shrugged off. In the next instant, his mind was wide open and paralyzed by the aura that poured in.

Alan couldn’t move. He sensed weak spatial energy supported by something far stronger beginning to stir.

He managed to push through the stupor that had taken hold of him. [Synaptic Failure] went off, but the being didn’t even twitch.

FUCK! Not like this!

This was not how he would die. Especially to someone so much weaker than Thorn or Old Greyheart.

The thought thundered in his mind.

That was it. Why would the strength of someone like that freeze him? The monstrous man was… weak. Stronger than Alan but nothing special at all compared to the world outside.

The hand touched his shoulder just as the shadows around Alan exploded with newfound but fleeting strength.

Pure shadow-attributed mana poured out of Alan in waves.

The alien pulled back in surprise. Just then an arrow hit it straight into the middle eye and sank deep. Only the fletching was left sticking out in the middle of its head.

Alan grinned and slashed with his ritual dagger.

He would not die to a servant of some shitty god.