The Fool's Freedom

There was no treasure, just endless blackness.

Only Zirida’s glowing red eyes chased some of the darkness away. It was not that bad. It almost felt calming in a way, and Alan found out with surprise that he could see through the infinite black curtain around him. Just a bit, but it was something. Were his eyes better? Which attribute was that? Or was it something else?

The exhaustion made him stay silent, although he kept wondering why Zirida wasn’t flying them out. Sure, there was a collapse above but it was nothing the two of them couldn’t handle. Alan was certain he could climb out using his daggers and current physical attributes, and he was even more certain the [Red Cleric] was much stronger than him both magically and physically. She could carry him up with no problems. What she had done to these dolls…

Alan checked the system messages that had popped up.

You have slain: Void Tree Temple Doll (78)

You have slain: Void Tree Temple Doll (83)

Level up!

You have reached level 34 in [Warlock]!

+ 3 Attribute Points

+ 1 Mind, Will, and Magic

…

Level up!

You have reached level 39 in [Warlock]!

+ 3 Attribute Points

+ 1 Mind, Will, and Magic

A lot of levels, but not quite enough to satisfy him.

Don’t I deserve some extra you shitty System, huh? Always throwing me in the middle of bullshit.

[Sacrificial Attack] was an insane skill. He wondered what it would look like in the hands of someone who specialized in Vitality. Or maybe someone with 100 Vitality wouldn’t produce the same effect by sacrificing only two? The sacrifice was proportionally much more insignificant when there was abundance left over. That was interesting to ponder.

Their fall had slowed down considerably under Zirida’s strange blood skill that was acting almost like a parachute. That was one way to use ultimate blood powers. If he could achieve something similar with his shadows…

“You are something else. That skill was insane! Good job. You could take that weird God-worshipping bitch too now, she’s exhausted; with such power, no one can stop you.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake Xil. Stop whispering like a little cartoon devil in my ear. I’m not taking out anyone. She fucking helped me!”

“You cannot trust divine bitches! Did you see what happened in the Sanctuary?! That’s what listening to Gods leads to!”

“Says the demon.”

“Hey, I haven’t razed any settlements since we’ve met. Probably before that too. And I will have you know I have a strict anti-worship policy. No matter how my fans want to, I disallow it. Admiration is all right though.”

“Fuck off.”

“I tell you now, mark my words, Gods are cunts, their followers are cunts, and you will be a sorry cunt for trusting one.”

It’s not like Xil didn’t make sense. Alan wasn’t a fan of generalizations but what were the chances of something all-powerful and immortal actually holding on to morals that could apply to the tiny human existence? Or any existence so far below it. Alan didn’t give ants a second thought before he stomped on the ground with his two feet and a cane, walking toward a job that probably did more harm than good in the grand scheme of things.

Unless, of course, ants became a source of power. Would he treat them the same if each contributed a bit toward his rise in the power rankings of a universe filled with monsters? Assuming that Gods needed belief and were not just another rank given by the System or a name used for the beings on top.

However, there was also the issue that there were powers out there capable of allowing Gods to exist in the realm. What happened to those that were… not allowed? Who or what was kicking god asses around? That would be an amazing sight to see.

They finally touched solid ground and Zirida let go of him with a sigh. Alan barely managed to stabilize himself on his trembling feet and only succeeded by taking out the staff from his inventory and using it as a crutch. After that, he took out two candlestones from his shadow inventory and made sure the floor was safe, before slumping on the ground.

“Are you hurt? Can you move?” Zirida asked. She sounded tense.

“Depends on how you quantify movement,” Alan mumbled. Even his mouth was a bit numb. “I could go to the store for milk if the path slopes enough so I could roll down. Returning would be an impossible feat for me.”

The fuck am I saying? It was as if his mouth was moving without listening to the brain. Xil laughed in his mind.

Zirida looked at him weirdly. “I need to meditate. Urgently. Are you well enough to keep watch?” A scar suddenly burst open startling Alan. The blood flowed freely with no sign that Zirida was exerting any control over it. “My blood gets agitated when I go overboard. It will rampage in my body and weaken me until I eventually die.”

“Yeah, I will manage. If not, the voices in my head will.”

Zirida took a moment, then nodded in silent acceptance.

Alan looked around. They were underground alright. Everything was smooth and shiny and the reflected light of the candlestones made for quite the sight. The floor was of black stone, the walls were of black stone, and the path ahead was dark and hidden but he had an idea of what they might find if they followed it. It was much different than the mountains outside. Thankfully, there was no sign of any parasites, treants, or dolls. Alan wasn’t sure he could cast even a [Mana Zap] in his current state. His body was simply disconnected from his mind.

Is this what [Synaptic Failure] feels like?

The wall shook as Zirida dug into it with a sword of blood that cut through the stone like it would a ripe mango. She made a shallow but wide alcove before grabbing Alan under the armpit and helping him there. He didn’t protest. She helped him sit on one side, then took the other.

Up close her body looked even more ripped and Alan found himself ogling her with admiration. Her skimpy outfit was quite the sight, although if she had to open the tens of wounds covering her to summon the blood for efficiency, it was a legitimate combat choice and not just a fashion statement. The abs were kind of mesmerizing though.

“I will be unresponsive for a time. Try and call me if something happens. Wake me slowly and prepare to defend if you do. I might… not be myself. If something attacks us, run.” She said and didn’t wait for an answer as she closed her eyes.

Alan nodded to himself. This was just how things were supposed to go. Weird vague explanations that only created more questions. So, if something came he would have to tickle her awake and then pray she would kill whatever had come, and not him. Sound strategy.

“Xil, can you warn me if something comes?”

“Yeah, yeah. Disregard the smartest demon in your head, then beg him for help.”

“You are the only demon in my head, Xil.”

“Ha! Sure, Mr. Mentally Stable.” the demon laughed. He had a point there.

Alan grunted and started thinking about all that had happened. It made little sense that they had been ambushed in such a stupid way unless the monsters had prepared in advance. However, the cave had been a group choice, and he doubted that any one of them could have predicted the dragon’s behavior.

He still couldn’t write off manipulations and intrigue. Not after existing in the same place and time as Florence. Who knew how many other scary classes were out there, playing chess with people’s minds?

Something else stood out and made him leave conspiracy theories for later. Zirida had said her blood would rampage, which was oddly similar to how the life force he drained was behaving if it had nothing to heal. Did she want to use him and his curse as an anchor in case her life force went out of control? Is that what she meant when she said he couldn’t drain all of her vitality? It wouldn’t work either way, as he wouldn’t simply agree to take in all the excess, especially if using the actual [Sacrificial Attack] left him feeling like he had fought the heavyweight champion while he was still in his cane-reliant state and the alternative was tumors.

He had wanted some more variety when it came to his fighting style, and he was getting it. But the price was too high at the moment. Asking Zirida about advancing his [Mana Zap] was probably a smart thing to do, once she woke up. They would have to figure out how to get out if flying was out of the question for one reason or another.

21 attribute points were waiting for him to put them into place. However, now that his body was disabled his mind was racing for some reason; he had many ideas for improvement.

Considering that he was in a place at least somewhat filled with people who had grown with the System… couldn’t he find many mana stones or substitutes? His mana pool was nowhere close enough to having enough for [Ritual: Enchanted Bones], and Alan wasn’t sure if doing it with his mana was feasible. It was not attributeless and ‘free’ even before he used it for his shadow-based skills.

Completing the enchantment of his whole skeleton would give him a massive boost to the Magic attribute, giving him a much larger mana pool to work with, much more control over mana, and it would strengthen his skills too. Plus, there was bound to be a change in the skill once he completed it. Would advancement continue under the same trajectory, or would it become something more suited to his subconscious desires and dreams as Reba had hinted at?

There was another facet to it too, one that he had ignored for a while. The ritual was very similar to the enchanting he had seen so far. Couldn’t he do it on others and profit off of that? The lack of mana sources had left the skill just sitting there, but it could turn into a large source of income. Be it items, resources, or anything he was yet to find out about, it would be a great contribution to his growth.

Another question for Zirida when she woke up. Alan was resolved to make the best of the strange situation he had found himself in and ask as many questions as possible.

She looked younger now, with her eyes closed. Early to mid-twenties at best. The scars combined with how she carried herself made her look almost savage when she was awake. Now, not so much. Her short red hair was messy in a nice way and looked more like the dancing flames of a hearth under the flickering light of the candlestones than a reminder of her blood abilities.

He concentrated for a second as he looked at her, trying to feel the mana and its movements. Flow was another thing he was very curious about, but apart from being another extra sense it hadn’t done much for him. How would the flow of mana affect skills? Could he make them faster?

Alan chased away the thoughts and tried to sense what was happening to Zirida. The mana around her was calmer than it was around him. For a moment he wondered if it was another Kalyntha situation going on because he couldn’t feel her signature at all. But it was there, under the scarred flesh. An energy rampaging like a pack of bulls. There was concentrated mana there too, trying to control that energy.

It wrapped around the weird energy and tried to guide it to follow certain patterns along invisible lines. It was certainly not the veins, even though the path often crossed with them. It was something else, something obscure he hadn’t heard of. He tried to memorize the path, but the rotation was hardly ever the same as the energy kept rampaging and going astray.

He lost track of time as he watched the strange movements. The bottom of the dark chasm disappeared along with all the discomfort in his body. All of him focused on a single thing. Alan unwittingly closed his eyes and let his consciousness become one with the process in Zirida’s body.

Ever so slowly the process became smoother and smoother. Each time the rampaging energy would become just a tiny bit more docile, just a tiny bit easier to control. Alan had no perception of time or space as he watched the mesmerizing movements, absorbing the information without meaning to.

He also started copying the process. However, there was nothing to guide but mana.

Something started weighing down on him, but he ignored it. It grew heavier and heavier until his eyes snapped open and he coughed before he gasped for air. He leaned on the rocks and tried not to scream as each muscle in his body seemed to cramp at the same time. It took a few minutes until the pain subsided. Something dripped down from the corner of his mouth but Alan had no strength to wipe it.

Blood or sweat it was all the same.

Alan barely forced himself to draw on some vitality from the curse. It was a small amount, just enough to start healing up whatever he had done to himself this time. The darkness started swimming as if it were a wavy sea. No, it was his vision. The fatigue was not going away, just changing. Alan felt himself drifting off.

“Xil, I might take a nap.”

The demon answered something, but Alan couldn’t hear register the words as his mind became emptier and his eyelids heavier. The intoxicating embrace of sleep took him.

Shadows walked in his dreams.