The Fool's Freedom

The man seemed almost depressed as he hung limply in Alan’s hand. It was strange. He would’ve expected more of the leader of tier twos. To reach this level of strength required quite a bit of tenacity and a lot of suffering.

A lot of self-reflection too.

Yes. Something was wrong.

The body fell apart in the next moment, turning into chunks of corroded metal that tried to fight against Alan’s mana-coated arm.

“You’re strong,” his enemy said, and Alan turned. He was standing next to the screaming ‘Hunter’, and frowning. “Stronger than most I’ve met. Not all, but most. What’s your name?”

Now that’s interesting.

“Alan. How about yours?”

“Rust.”

Huh.

“Your parents were clairvoyant?” Alan asked.

Rust frowned. “I threw away my old name. You should too. Upon us is a new era, and humanity will perish in the clutches of the monsters seeking to conquer this rich new world, and enslave us.”

“Look man, I appreciate that righteous villain stuff you got going on, but I’m not interested. I’m trying to be a better—”

Sobbing interrupted Alan, and he turned to look at the ‘Immortal’. Screams joined the sad sounds once again as the ‘Hunter’ clawed at his eyes, drawing blood.

Shit, I’ve done it again. I didn’t do all that much though! Just took some points of Vitality and cursed this guy to get haunted by his biggest fears. Jeez.

“Just doing my best to become a good person… I know how this looks, but trust me. This is me trying,” Alan said.

“I see. A good person, huh? How can one be good while wielding the power to destroy men’s minds like you do? How can one be good when they can poison the blood, crush the flesh from the inside, and corrode the very spirit? There’s no good in this world. Only strength.”

Alan sighed.

“I get what you’re saying, but you came knocking and almost hurt my friends. So, an ass-kicking is in order. If you’re trying to make me join your cause or whatever, it isn’t going to work. If you’re trying to stall for time, so be it. I still have quite a few things I haven’t tried. I can sense those friends of yours watching from among the trees. I know that guy behind me is very strong, but I can wring him dry with a thought. As for this one—” he pointed at the screaming ‘Hunter’. There were a few wounds on his body now. Self-inflicted or a result of too real hallucinations, no one knew. “He’s dying a painful death. That attack he unleashed endangered people I like, and I don’t think he will be quite ready to be a good boy if I unravel the curse.”

Rust frowned. “I’ve not given up, Alan. This is just the start of this fight. Do you think I’m like them? Carried to tier two by those stronger than me? I took it all on my own. Your curses, your shadows, and tricks, have nothing against the pain I’ve had to endure! All to make this world better for us, humans!”

“I think I’ve heard that speech a few times before, you know? There were movies—”

‘Hunter’ screamed again, but this time it was not due to Alan’s curse. He could sense another thing wiggling inside. Then the body exploded with rusted spikes of metal, and Alan grimaced. He could feel his curse still at work, which meant the mind lived. However, something was twisting it, and his skill was changing along.

What’s happening?

He was more curious than scared. Inspiration was in all things, after all.

The spikes wiggled as if the previously cold corroded metal had grown alive. The Hunter was slowly transformed into something else. It didn’t look like any sort of monster Alan knew. It didn’t look human apart from the two disfigured legs.

Whatever equipment the hunter carried was broken in the process, and the mass of living rust slowly stood up. There were no scary screeches and no roars. Just a mass of wiggling post-human rust, that looked quite disgusting.

Alan sensed similar things happening in the forest. The brief screams were cut off as similarly grotesque monsters popped up. He noted one mana signature stayed unaffected and hidden, but everyone else was certainly dead. Good for that guy or gal, whoever they were.

There was no question that Rust was going to die after this display. Such powers were not to be left unchecked. He could infect the whole Sanctuary and turn them into… whatever this was. A blob of tentacled rust? Like a bacteria cell or something. Ew.

“Well, I thought we were all about saving humanity, but it seems your ego takes precedence, eh?”

Rust didn’t react. He had retreated further and watched the disfigured creatures swarm toward Alan. They were fast.

A shadow blade crashed into the first one—the tier two. Alan didn’t expect much but his new mana made quite the impact. The shadow crescent left a deep mark on the creature, which, unfortunately, revealed a center of actual living flesh. A pumping heart and other organs squished together into a ball.

He could sense the corrupted thing’s mana, and he didn’t like it. It was taking something akin to the process he had just undergone, and dirtying it.

A swarm of spikes came at him at the same time as the creatures’ bodies, and Alan moved. [Dark Step] allowed him to appear and disappear in a matter of a second, and he left more and more tiny slivers of shadow along the battlefield.

The creatures that had previously been simple tier-one humans were easy to dismantle. It took only two shadow blades to bisect them. However, even then they were a danger as their remains kept shooting their tendrils at him for a time. They simply couldn’t run after him like the bacteria from a stranger’s cough in the supermarket.

It soon became increasingly difficult to dodge all the attacks and he had to focus on using [Shadow Creation] for defense. His shadows intercepted whatever got through, but this was no way to win the fight. Thankfully, a single [Internal Mana Boost] allowed him to move even faster than he had before, and even without [Dark Step] he was a blur. It was fun to be so fast, however, his mind struggled to keep up despite its high numerical value.

Alan also used his daggers to deflect, created shields and even tendrils of his own that crashed against the attacks and weaved around the battlefield cutting everything apart. By the time that he was done, it was only the monstrous tier two and Rust left.

The man remained passive, watching on as if nothing of what was happening mattered. Alan thought of going for him, but he could sense the mana build-up around Rust. It reminded him of his rituals, only there were no chalk scribbles, nor anything else of the sort.

This was a ritual on a different scale. Or if not ritual, something very similar. Now this, was a true tier two.

I’ll deal with that after the monster.

No system messages were coming for when he cut up the mutants, which meant that whatever experience the humans were worth had gone to Rust. He had taken their lives after all, and what was left was simply the result of the horrible skill.

Not that I’m one to talk.

Alan dodged the forest of rusty limbs and spikes coming for him yet again and focused his attacks on the somehow increasingly growing tier-two monster. It moves slowly, absorbing all of the other pieces left in Alan’s rampage.

That didn’t bode well.

Alan got close to it and tried to place the one curse mark he had left, but it seemed impossible. There was no ‘vitality’ in the shell of rusted metal. His other curse was also useless since the thing obviously had no mind.

[Spirit Devour] was useless too, and although he tried to use it on Rust himself, it was too dangerous to get close to the man right now. Whatever he had created in such a short span could seriously hurt even to the current Alan.

Alan created some distance, then pointed a finger toward Rust, with a smile.

“You need to take this more seriously,” he said.

Dark orbs of [Consuming Dark] exploded one by one around Rust, forcing him to yell and move away. He blocked some with walls of swords and spikes, much like Alan was doing with [Shadow Creation]. They managed to hold off against the tiny black holes, but parts of them were still consumed.

The skill was dangerous, even if it was somewhat easy to evade for some of tier two. Alan kept dodging and bombarding, trying to get Rust away from the trap he had made, but the man was too smart for his own good.

Fine, be this way.

Alan used [Dark Step], but not to dodge. His target was the monstrous homunculus bombarding him with its tendrils and spikes. It had consumed most of the corpses around and grown to triple its size. Its power had grown too, and the ground was now like a desolate moonscape from all the attacks creating craters.

Alan’s appeared next to it and felt almost as if the world had slowed down. His dagger moved slowly, creating a line of space in the pure mana of the world just beside the body. [Severing Mana] was a dangerous skill and last time he had passed out.

Now though, it worked as intended. It was his own [Hateful Mist Cut]. Slower and weaker at this point, but still very destructive.

It took a moment, then a strange force seemed to create a vacuum that almost made Alan’s eardrums burst. A force split the space before him, passing through the creature and disappearing harmlessly ten meters away. The pressure was enormous and then it was gone. The creature fell, bisected, and opened like a cut-apart sea hedgehog.

Two [Consuming Dark] casts took care of the insides that continued to fuel the attacks of tendrils and spikes, and all signs of life disappeared with them, leaving only a rusted shell, frozen in time. It almost looked like a sculpture. Perhaps they could start a museum?

Rust’s grimace made Alan quite happy.

“So, anything else?” Alan asked. The circle of danger around Rust had intensified yet again. He was curious about what would happen if he actually took the plunge, but doing so was foolish.

I have a history of not valuing my own life. Ah, no, no. New chapter.

Rust forced a simple sword to form in his hand, then pointed it toward Alan dramatically.

“Come, let’s end this farce,” he said.

Alan tilted his head. The life force he had stolen from the so-called ‘immortal’—he had to get the dude’s real name because this was ridiculous—churned inside him. One last test. Why not?

“Yes, we’ll end it. Care to tell me what that trap you’ve laid does first, though?”

Rust’s expression changed, but Alan gave him no time. He pointed a lazy finger and used [Pilfered Life Ignition] to fuel his next [Dark Consumption]. He fed about twenty points worth of Vitality to it. Just to start.

A larger sphere of darkness, big as a basketball, intertwined with deep red burning lifeforce appeared in front of Rust and he screamed as almost half of him was ‘bitten’ off.

Still, he somehow fled as rust started forming over the wounds.

Alan appeared next to him, just as he stepped out of the trap, and waved goodbye before a charged shadow slash took the would-be king’s head off.

He frowned. No kill message came.

***

Rosalyn stared at the ‘prisoners’ before her. They had no way to suppress the use of skills, so the situation was quite tense. Still, the one Alan claimed was named ‘immortal’ was rocking in place, whispering ‘My life, my life, my life!’

What had Alan done to him?

The other was a younger man who was utterly terrified, but oddly calm at the same time. Weird how that worked. Alan’s presence on what appeared to be a high barstool made of the darkest shadows she had seen didn’t help the boy.

Still, at least they were safe now. Maybe… who knew if someone would follow to see what had happened. Were there others?

“You want me to do the interrogating?” Alan asked.

“No.”

“Yes, Master!” Mayra exclaimed from the side.

She was much more chipper now, despite her gloomy appearance. Her large sack of scrolls had been left unused, but she had still donated a few to the Sanctuary. As a tip from her master, she had said.

Rosalyn hated that.

“I can do it easily, and painlessly,” Rosalyn argued. She was the leader! She didn’t have to justify herself.

“Sure, sure. Go ahead, Rosey. I want to go see the city.”

“Aren’t you tired from the fight?”

“Nah, it was just a spar. Go on then, ask them.”

Well, wasn’t Alan enthusiastic?

Rosalyn clenched her teeth. The spar had ended up in two-tier twos losing their lives and about thirty others turning into grotesque disfigured monsters.

Good thing she had been nice to him at the start.