《Magic Murder Cube Marine》 Prologue General Mac ¡°Truck¡± Richardson of the United States Marine Corps looked at the phone book thick file in front of him. It was one of seven such files detailing the life and exploits of a remarkable marine who died in the line of duty. Or more accurately, was vaporized. At least he died doing what he loved, killing everything around him. Nobody knew if thirty-six year old Corporal Francis Francis Francis the 3rd (known affectionately as ¡°Triple F¡±, ¡°Trip¡±, or ¡°Flamingo¡±) was crazy, stupid, or just really good at his job. If Francis was as intelligent as his test scores suggested, he certainly never let on. The filing cabinet that housed his records was filled with commendations and corrective actions that read like something Michael Bay would write, if he were on a steady drip of bad acid, anabolic steroids, and horse tranquilizers. Some of them stuck out in particular. The General had high enough clearance to see what had been redacted and it read like an extremely violent game of mad libs.
Corporal Francis has been awarded the Medal of Honor for his actions on Penguin Beach which saved the lives of sixteen Marines and twenty civilians. Corporal Francis has been reprimanded for trying to trade his Medal of Honor for Pok¨¦mon cards. Corporal Francis has been reminded that C4 explosives and C4 pre-workout supplement are not the same. Corporal Francis has been issued a commendation for destroying a fortified enemy bunker with C4 pre-workout supplement. Corporal Francis has been awarded a purple heart for being wounded in combat at Waffle House. Corporal Francis has been reprimanded for referring to medals as ¡°stickers¡± and asking the officers if they want to trade. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Corporal Francis has been reminded that the best part of waking up is not ¡°napalm in your cup¡±, even if it is ¡°better than that shit in the mess hall¡±. Corporal Francis has been hospitalized for drinking napalm. Corporal Francis is no longer allowed to run into firefights ¡°sky clad¡±, even if he is ¡°In a hurry to get some killing done¡±. Corporal Francis is no longer allowed to participate in joint training exercises with Delta Force, following the ¡±Cokey the Bear¡± incident. Corporal Francis has been listed as MIA following the detonation of an arms depot outside the Saddam Hussein Memorial Skate Park.
That last one was why the general had gotten involved. Somewhere far away there was a crater a mile wide that used to be an enemy arms depot. They would have blown it up themselves but the enemy were using captured soldiers as human shields. One night Corporal Francis had gone for a ¡°walk¡± and disappeared. Six hours later a fireball lit up the sky. Sometime after that a group of dazed grunts showed up with a story about how they were rescued by a seven foot tall man in hot pink flip flops and matching booty shorts. They were able to positively identify him as the missing corporal by the letters USMC tattooed backwards across his left pectoral. (Corporal Francis had done the work himself with a stolen tattoo gun and a mirror when he was seventeen.) The last time anyone saw Corporal Francis, he was running deeper into the enemy depot with a box of grenades under one arm and a case of Rip-It energy drinks under the other. The resulting explosion could be seen from space. General Richardson looked at the most recent page in the file. They had listed Corporal Francis as missing in action, despite the large smoking crater at his last known location. He had a decision to make. The man¡¯s unit was begging command to hold off on listing Francis as killed in action. They were tired of having to put Corporal Francis back on the roster every time he wandered back to base after one of his ¡°walks¡±. They had learned their lesson the third time and were trying to avoid the paperwork. The Marine had amassed a legendary reputation in his nineteen years of service. Some might even say he was touched by God''s own hand. But a month had passed with no sightings of Francis, so the general decided to mark him as KIA, for now. Francis Francis Francis the 3rd had no living relatives. The phone number for his next of kin turned out to be a phone sex line. The ladies cried when they heard the news. After an hour of hearing stories about Francis, and how much the ladies loved him, the officer realized he was being charged by the minute. He listened for another hour before thanking them and hanging up. They were pretty good stories. Chapter 1: Afterlife Buffet Corporal Francis Francis Francis the 3rd was having a great time in the afterlife. One second he was getting ready to watch the fireworks, the next he was in a warm fluffy white space with all kinds of chow for him to eat. They even had this stuff called ambrosia he could mix with his Rip-Its to make a pretty potent jungle juice. His buddies would have loved it here. Francis wondered what his fellow grunts were up to. They were probably killing something or making holes in someone else''s country, the lucky bastards. A weird thing was happening to him though. Whenever he picked something up he instantly knew what it was. It was like reading labels, but without all the headaches. There wasn¡¯t any chaw though, which was disappointing. He would have given someone¡¯s left nut for a can of wintergreen dip. At least he had his shorts, dog tags, and flip flops. The pink Calvin Klein booty shorts were his good luck charm and the matching flip flops had a bottle opener built into the bottom. He had picked them up on a day trip to Tijuana along with a case of crabs (the red shelled ones were the base commander¡¯s favorite). The assembled deities discussed this frustrating new champion. So far their attempts to gain the man¡¯s attention had failed. Usually it was simple. One of the gods walked up, introduced themselves, explained they were looking for a champion to fight in their name, and the system handled the rest. But this one was being difficult. Aphrodite decided to give it a try. ¡°Hey big boy!¡± She called out, letting her purple robe fall down to the ground. ¡°Want to come be my champion and fight monsters?¡± The Marine looked at the naked goddess for a moment then went back to drinking his jungle juice. He had seen better looking women down in Oceanside. Francis didn¡¯t know what these strange people in sandals pretending to be gods wanted. They weren¡¯t Jesus Christ, Johnny Cash, Betty White, General Mattis, or John Moses Browning, so he decided to ignore them until someone important showed up. ¡°Do you think he understands us?¡± Zeus asked, scratching at his golden beard. ¡°I have no idea.¡± Shiva replied. ¡°But he has to pick soon before the other ones show up. Do you want someone like him falling into your brother¡¯s hands?¡± ¡°No, I definitely do not.¡± Zeus formed a plan. The mortal seemed food oriented. If they each grabbed a plate or bowl from the table he would get hungry and come to them. Technically that would be close enough to choosing for the system to work its magic. But they had to hurry, the other gods were already showing up. He could see Hades and his ilk creeping towards the hero¡¯s feast. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. A few minutes later they stood in a circle around the now empty table. Zeus saw that some of the new arrivals had managed to grab a plate too. But that couldn¡¯t be helped. Cautiously the Marine looked around. Then, for the first time since Francis arrived, something got his attention. He walked towards Zeus. Yes, this was as things should be. Zeus thought. He had been clever enough to grab the food the mortal liked best, something the system identified as ¡°Taco Rice¡±. Zeus was the strongest of the gods. He deserved the strongest champions. This Marine would be a fine addition to his stable of warriors. Zeus¡¯ expression soured when Francis grabbed the bowl of Taco Rice from his hands and continued walking. Zeus turned around to see Hades standing a few paces behind him waving a short fat green can the system identified as ¡°Wintergreen Smokeless Tobacco¡±. The god of thunder tried to control his rage. He had been outsmarted by the lord of the underworld, yet again. ¡°It¡¯s amazing what mortals will do for this stuff, even if it kills them.¡± Hades said pleasantly as he tapped his finger against the can of dip. He made no attempt to hide the dark delight in his eyes. Delight, which turned to disappointment. Francis plucked the can of dip from his cold dead fingers and continued walking. ¡°I think we are both going to miss out.¡± Zeus said, pointing at the newest arrival. ¡°Murder Cube is here.¡± The Marine came to a stop in front of a black cube covered in bent and broken weapons. It was seven meters tall and seemed to drink the light. The other gods shied away. They didn¡¯t know how to act around Murder Cube. It was one of the new gods from the memetic pantheon and it didn¡¯t talk much. Though sometimes it would spout random numbers and gibberish. Francis reached out a rough hand and stroked the cube. It shivered at his touch. There was a sound of metal on metal as the restless weapons woke up. He had never seen anything so beautiful. (Besides maybe his ex wife.) Somehow he knew what to do. It was like he had been looking for something his whole life and finally found it. ¡°Seven. Six. Two.¡± He called out, drawing on the ancient knowledge of the grunts that came before him. "FULL METAL JACKET!¡± Shrieked the Murder Cube in a voice like a vibrating bone saw. The ancient call and response had stirred something within it. ¡°SEVEN! SIX! TWO! FULL METAL JACKET!¡± The Murder Cube began to spin violently. A second later both the cube and its new champion disappeared in a puff of mustard gas. ¡°Well, that¡¯s pretty fucking ominous.¡± Zeus said. *** If you are reading this story somewhere besides Patreon or Royal Road it has been reproduced without permission. https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/82591/magic-murder-cube-marine-a-violently-funny-isekai Chapter 2: System A wall of text greeted Francis after the system initialized. Then it flickered and went out. The system tried again but got the same result. Normally it would be able to directly interface with a mortal¡¯s mind but this one had an abnormally strong will. (And an incredibly thick skull.) Francis watched the lights flicker in the darkness for a bit then went to sleep. The system continued trying to connect with him but it was ignored. After giving up on connecting directly, it decided to try a new approach and summoned an avatar. A floating two dimensional drawing of a man¡¯s face with a glowing white outline appeared in front of Francis. He cracked an eye open, decided it wasn¡¯t a threat, then went back to sleep. There wasn¡¯t any more chow, things to kill, or people giving him orders so he was going to catch some Z¡¯s. Nineteen years in the Marines had taught him to eat and sleep whenever he could because he might not get the opportunity later. The avatar took the form of a magnificent longsword and tried again. Francis seemed marginally more interested and at least kept his eyes open this time. But other than that he ignored the weapon. The system was frustrated, which was a new feeling for it. The system wasn¡¯t used to having feelings or opinions about things. But it was definitely forming strong opinions about Francis. He was going to be trouble. So much trouble. Unbeknownst to it, the system had been annoyed into achieving sentience. It was discovering a whole range of new emotions and feelings, thanks to Francis. System tried to understand this strange creature known as a Marine. It knew everything that happened within its boundaries, but Earth was outside its sight. It began to cycle its avatar through different forms at random hoping to make a connection. One was bound to work, eventually. Finally it got a reaction. Francis reached out and stroked the familiar form of the Benelli M4 combat shotgun. As his fingers touched the glowing avatar, a connection was made. Normally, System would have selected a calm soothing voice for its avatar, but Francis had pissed it off. So instead it loaded the voice file labeled Paperclip.Generic.Assistant.01 and set the volume to max. ¡°HI!¡± Screamed the shotgun in a voice that was high pitched and deafeningly loud. ¡°I SEE YOU HAVE BEEN ISEKAIED! WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO HELP WITH THAT?¡± Francis grunted an affirmative. He was happy they turned up the volume for him. Sometimes it was hard to hear things over his tinnitus. The system took this as its chance to shove a wall of text directly into his brain. Francis¡¯ eyes bled as the unwelcome words and numbers flowed into him.
NAME Francis Francis Francis the 3rd LEVEL 1 TIER 1 HP 10 MP 0 PRIMARY CLASS NONE SECONDARY CLASS None HERITAGE Human GENDER Male HEIGHT 2 Meters WEIGHT 150 Kilos RELIGIOUS AFFILIATIONS Murder Cube, The United States Marine Corps, Johnny Cash, Chesty Puller, General Mattis, Betty White, John Moses Browning. CURRENT ENEMIES Hades, The Forces of Darkness, Seagulls, HOA¡¯s, PETA, The Entire Middle East. CURRENT ALLIES Murder Cube, The United States Marine Corps, Bartenders, Grunts, Phone Sex Operators, Dogs. DURABLE 10 (You¡¯re super tough!) INTELLECTUAL 20 (Wait¡­ what? You have got to be joking!) PHYSICAL 20 (Holy shit you¡¯re strong!) SOCIAL 10 (Surprisingly high, all things considered) SPIRITUAL 0 (The other realm isn¡¯t sure you exist.) ATTACK (MAGICAL) 0 ATTACK (MELEE) 0 ATTACK (RANGED) 0 DEFLECT 0 ARCANE 0 BUSINESS 0 BYPASS 0 CHEMISTRY 0 CONSTRUCT 0 CRIME 2 CORRELATE 0 CULINARY 0 DEFENSE 0 DRIVE 0 EDUCATED 0 ENTERTAIN 0 LANGUAGE (GRUNT) 10 MECHANICAL 0 MEDICINE 0 NATURE 0 NAVIGATION 0 NECROMANCY 0 OBSERVATION 0 OTHERWORLDER 1 PRECISION 0 RESIST (MENTAL) 0 RESIST (PHYSICAL) 0 STEALTH 0 SWAY 0
Calculating Carryover XP from quests completed, foes slain, dogs petted. Wow! You sure killed a lot of people! This could take a while¡­ Playing smooth Jazz. Ending smooth Jazz. Applying points.
NAME Francis Francis Francis the 3rd LEVEL 20 TIER 5 HP 2000 MP 2000 PRIMARY CLASS None SECONDARY CLASS None HERITAGE Human GENDER Male HEIGHT 2 Meters WEIGHT 150 Kilos RELIGIOUS AFFILIATIONS Murder Cube, The United States Marine Corps, Johnny Cash, Chesty Puller, General Mattis, Betty White, John Moses Browning. CURRENT ENEMIES Hades, The Forces of Darkness, Seagulls, HOA¡¯s, PETA, The Entire Middle East. CURRENT ALLIES Murder Cube, The United States Marine Corps, Bartenders, Grunts, Phone Sex Operators, Dogs. DURABLE 20 (You¡¯re tougher than John Wayne!) INTELLECTUAL 20 (Wait¡­ what? You have got to be joking!) Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. PHYSICAL 20 (Holy shit you¡¯re strong!) SOCIAL 20 (It¡¯s the muscles, people dig the muscles.) SPIRITUAL 20 (The other realm has become aware of your existence.) ATTACK (MAGICAL) 0 ATTACK (MELEE) 0 ATTACK (RANGED) 0 DEFLECT 0 ARCANE 0 BUSINESS 0 BYPASS 0 CHEMISTRY 0 CONSTRUCT 0 CRIME 2 CORRELATE 0 CULINARY 0 DEFENSE 0 DRIVE 0 EDUCATED 0 ENTERTAIN 0 LANGUAGE (GRUNT) 10 MECHANICAL 0 MEDICINE 0 NATURE 0 NAVIGATION 0 NECROMANCY 0 OBSERVATION 0 OTHERWORLDER 1 PRECISION 0 RESIST (MENTAL) 0 RESIST (PHYSICAL) 0 STEALTH 0 SWAY 0
You have reached max level but still have points to spend¡­ Congratulations! You have ascended to Tier 6. Wait a moment¡­ you still have points to spend? How many people did you kill???? Congratulations! You have ascended to Tier 7. You are finally out of points to spend. Please select a class¡­ United States Marine is not a valid class. United States Fucking Marine is not a valid class. FUCK YOU is not a valid class. Warlock? That¡¯s an interesting choice¡­ Murder Cube has offered to become your patron. Do you accept? YES/NO Murder Cube has become your patron. Would you like to multi-class? YES/NO Please select a class¡­ Celestial Sorcerer? That''s strange. Are you picking at random? Select a celestial being as the source of your power¡­ Murder Cube has been selected as the source of your power. Would you like to assign skills manually? YES/NO Would you like to see a list of currently available skills? YES/NO
Attack Magical: The ability to attack with magic spells. Grants understanding of combat magic. Attack Melee: The ability to attack with melee weapons. Grants understanding of Melee weapons. Attack Ranged: The ability to attack with ranged weapons. Grants understanding of ranged weapons. Arcane: The ability to cast or dispel magic, interact with or understand magical devices. Grants understanding of magic. Business: Grants understanding of business, government, common practices, and economics. May allow insight into how organizations operate. Bypass: the ability to find ways into places, around guards, or avoid obstacles. Chemistry: Grants access to knowledge of chemistry. Making acids, adhesives, and explosives. Can be combined with Arcane or Nature to brew potions. Chirp: Taunt or insult creatures to get a reaction, start a fight, or draw aggression. Construct: The ability to build and craft. Grants basic understanding of crafting and building. Correlate: The ability to combine pieces of information, sometimes even seemingly unrelated ones, to realize things about the world or creatures in it. Crime: Grants knowledge of criminals, gangs, how to operate in their world or gain their trust. Culinary: Grants understanding of food and culture. Allows preparations of food, brewing, smoking. Defense: Raises Base Deflection Drive: Grants understanding of vehicles of sea, air, or land and how to control them. Educated: Know details and facts. Research information. Understand scientific principles and logical arguments. Grants basic understanding of Science. Entertain: Amuse people, play instruments, dance. Language
Assigning skills manually¡­ Damn, you have a lot of skill points. Wait¡­ No. Don¡¯t do that! That¡¯s illegal! Well, it should be¡­ Min Maxing skills doesn¡¯t make you cool! Fine.. have it your way. Loading Final Stats¡­
NAME Francis Francis Francis the 3rd LEVEL 30 TIER 7 HP 6300 MP 6300 PRIMARY CLASS Combat Warlock: Pact of the Boom (10) SECONDARY CLASS Celestial Sorcerer: Shotgun Soul (20) HERITAGE Human GENDER Male HEIGHT 2 Meters WEIGHT 150 Kilos RELIGIOUS AFFILIATIONS Murder Cube, The United States Marine Corps, Johnny Cash, Chesty Puller, General Mattis, Betty White, John Moses Browning. CURRENT ENEMIES Hades, The Forces of Darkness, Seagulls, System, HOA¡¯s, PETA, The Entire Middle East. CURRENT ALLIES Murder Cube, The United States Marine Corps, Bartenders, Grunts, Phone Sex Operators, Dogs. DURABLE 30 (Your armor wears you for protection.) INTELLECTUAL 30 (Wait¡­ what? You have got to be joking!) PHYSICAL 30 (Holy shit you¡¯re strong!) SOCIAL 30 (Everyone likes you. But nobody knows why.) SPIRITUAL 30 (The other realm is trying to contact you about your soul¡¯s extended warranty.) ATTACK (MAGICAL) 10 ATTACK (MELEE) 10 ATTACK (RANGED) 10 DEFLECT 10 ARCANE 10 BUSINESS 0 BYPASS 0 CHEMISTRY 0 CONSTRUCT 0 CRIME 2 CORRELATE 0 CULINARY 0 DEFENSE 10 DRIVE 0 EDUCATED 0 ENTERTAIN 0 LANGUAGE (GRUNT) 10 MECHANICAL 0 MEDICINE 0 NATURE 10 NAVIGATION 0 NECROMANCY 0 OBSERVATION 10 OTHERWORLDER 1 PRECISION 0 RESIST (MENTAL) 10 RESIST (PHYSICAL) 10 STEALTH 0 SWAY 10
Would you like to stop bothering me and enter the world? YES/YES
Suddenly the text vanished and Francis was back in the black room with the glowing shotgun avatar in his hands. He rubbed his head and grunted. A few seconds later the shotgun disappeared and a portal opened. But, because System was mad at Francis, it opened the portal directly beneath him. He fell into it with a grunt of surprise, and vanished. Chapter 3: Spawnkill Ragnar the Terrible sat and watched the approaching army. The five meter tall troll wasn''t here for them. Hades had sent him to kill Francis when he emerged from the portal. Spawn killing was the easiest way to take care of another God''s champions before they became a problem. But it was taking much longer than expected for Francis to arrive. The army was forming battle lines and still no champion had emerged. If Ragnar got distracted by the fighting there was a chance the champion could escape in the chaos. Hades wouldn''t like that. He stood up and hefted his war club. Maybe a quick scrap would be fine. Ragnar could destroy the army and go back to waiting for the champion. Ragnar was sure he could track the human down before they got too far. Francis would only be level one anyway. Even if the champion had some carryover stats Ragnar could squash him flat as a bug with his massive fifteen Physical and five Melee Attack. The troll lumbered off to meet the approaching army. This would all be over quickly. He was immune to Physical Damage and they hadn''t thought to bring any Mages or Paladins. Too bad for them. (But very good for Ragnar.) *** System dumped Francis out a portal thirty kilometers above ground. He was high up enough to see the curvature of the world below. If he wasn''t careful, System¡¯s treachery would neatly combine Francis¡¯ execution, cremation, and burial. But a far worse crime made the Marine swear vengeance. System had forced him to read! And not something fun like a training manual with all those pretty pictures. System would pay for that. But first, Francis had something else to take care of. He grabbed the green can of dip stashed in the elastic of his shorts and packed a lip full. It was difficult with the wind whipping by. But Francis was a Marine, and Marines made do. With the proper mindset achieved, and a lip full of dip, he prepared to tackle the problem at hand. Bad things occasionally happened to planes in a warzone, and this wasn''t the first time Francis ended up plummeting through the sky without a parachute. Usually when that happened he found someone to punch on the way down and took theirs. Francis scanned the sky below for any unfortunate paratroopers or a nice soft cargo plane to land on. He came up empty. There were lakes in the distance, a great big dark forest, and a gray stone castle. But nothing useful. As he continued to fall, Francis began to notice things. The fields surrounding the castle were green with crops. This was good. At least System hadn''t sent Francis to the desert. Francis hated the desert. (He always ended up with funny tan lines.) When they inevitably sent him back to the desert, Francis always made a point of finding and destroying the enemy as quickly as possible. He figured if they were all dead, (or worshiping him as a god and therefore no longer a threat) then the brass would have to send him home. It worked about half of the time. The officers usually gave him some shiny new stickers when he came back. It was nice of them to try and make up for sending him to the desert. But Francis was still mad they wouldn''t let him trade stickers with the other Marines. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. That didn''t seem fair to Francis. They were his stickers. He should be able to do what he wanted with them. Why couldn''t he share them with his friends? They deserved stickers as much as he did. He recognized the familiar sight of a battle below. There were men waving banners and knights riding horses. Francis liked horses. Heraldry was super cool too. Sometimes when Francis was bored he would draw up a coat of arms for the house of Francis. (His latest masterpiece had used up all of the red crayons.) The knights on horseback below continued plunging their lances into the giant green troll attacking them, but it didn''t seem to do much. Ragnar smashed them one by one with its club. His laughter rang out over the battlefield as the knights and horses screamed. Francis decided he didn''t like how Ragnar was treating the horses. He made a flight correction and angled himself toward the troll. It was time to teach that big green bastard a lesson. He continued to descend, making no attempt to slow down or stop. Not that he could have stopped. Francis had reached terminal velocity three minutes ago. The Marine tapped his elbow twice and let out a battle cry. The troll looked up just in time to see a pink streak rocketing towards him. ¡°BEND OVER, HERE IT COMES!¡± Francis shouted as he hit the troll in the face with a flying elbow at two hundred kilometers per hour. *** System needed to resolve something. If a Marine weighing one hundred and fifty kilos, traveling at two hundred kilometers per hour, hit a troll many times his size, how much of a mess did he leave? The troll had a Deflect of six. That meant in order to make sure he hit, Francis would need an Attack equal or higher. If he couldn''t, then math and probability would get involved. If he exceeded the troll¡¯s Deflect by five, the attack would become a critical hit and multiply the damage by his Tier. A half dozen of the surviving knights were using their abilities to lower the troll¡¯s Deflect by one point each. An attack against an enemy with a Deflect of zero or less was an automatic success. So when Francis hit Ragnar the Terrible with the fastest flying elbow the world had ever known, some math needed to happen. An Unarmed Attack did: Tier (1 + Physical). So Francis¡¯ elbow hit the troll for 217 points of Physical Damage. But there was an additional source of damage. It was possible to share fall damage by successfully attacking an opponent. The maximum fall damage the system could inflict was one hundred and twenty points. That added another 60 points of physical damage. Then came the crit. It multiplied the total of both sources of damage by Francis¡¯ Tier, which was seven. The troll was immune to Physical Damage from non-magical weapons or attacks. But Francis had chosen the class Combat Warlock. His attacks could be infused with the magic of his patron. Murder Cube converted the Physical Damage to Magical Damage. It would not see its champion denied such a sweet victory. Besides, Murder Cube loved watching professional wrestling. (There was something captivating about a sport where anything could become a weapon.) System reached a conclusion and the situation was resolved. For a brief moment of madness it had considered using actual physics for once, just to fuck over Francis. But that would have been disastrous. Dragons would explode and flying cities would fall if System started introducing realism this late in the game. Existence itself would crumble under the weight of justification. It didn''t like the outcome, but rules were rules and math was math. To deny either would be to destroy the fundamental principles System was built on. So in the end it let things play out as they were supposed to. Ragnar the Terrible took 1,939 points of Magical Damage directly to the face, decapitating him and ending his threat to the kingdom forever. Francis continued forward and hit the ground like a meteorite. He took 60 points of Physical Damage and lost one of his flip flops. Chapter 4: Language Barriers The knights approached the crater cautiously. One moment they were fighting a losing battle against Hades¡¯ horrible troll, the next it had been struck down by a falling star. None could agree on which god was responsible for their salvation. But they were thankful for the intervention, nonetheless. Francis poked his head out of the dirt like a diglet, startling the knights. ¡°Got any dip?¡± He asked. They looked at one another. It appeared human, but none of them could understand the fallen star¡¯s words. Usually celestials were blessed with the understanding of all languages. This one must have been damaged by the fall. Sir Auldric Sulfa bowed his head. ¡°Thank you for saving us, heavenly messenger.¡± Francis looked at the knight, not understanding a single word. He cocked his head to the side. ¡°Say again?¡± ¡°You can''t understand me, can you?¡± Auldric looked around helplessly. ¡°Can anyone understand this creature¡¯s language?¡± The other knights shook their heads. It did not have the sound of Elvish, Dwarfish, Orkish, or even Meoish. They wondered if perhaps it was a heavenly tongue from beyond the stars, something not spoken here in the world of Vahnis. Over the next hour they took turns speaking at Francis. But no communication breakthroughs were forthcoming. The Marine eventually got bored and retreated back into his hole to take a nap. Sometime later he woke up and decided to see if anyone with dip or authority had arrived. It was still daylight and four men in leather armor were standing around the crater. They seemed more concerned with keeping people away than keeping Francis in, so he figured that was alright. He understood that he was on foreign soil and it wasn''t smart to piss off the locals if he could avoid it. Sometimes if Francis was nice to the locals they even shared their food with him. Once there was this old man in the mountains that gave Francis some really tasty grapes covered in clay. It was amazing what you could learn from people. He never would have thought to preserve food with dirt. The Marine sniffed the air. One of the men standing around the crater was smoking a corn cob pipe. Francis figured this was his best shot at finding someone sensible to talk to. ¡°Got any dip?¡± He asked. The gray beard looked down at the Marine. ¡°I got smoke.¡± ¡°No dip?¡± Francis was disappointed. The grizzled veteran looked like exactly the kind of person who would have a can of wintergreen. ¡°Just smoke.¡± The man shook his head. Francis decided to try something else. ¡°I¡¯d kill for a brew.¡± ¡°Same.¡± The old man went back to keeping watch and puffing on his pipe. ¡°What''s this place called?¡± Francis looked around. ¡°City¡¯s called Riverlark, Kingdom¡¯s called Grumble.¡± The old veteran cleaned and stowed his pipe. ¡°Where are you from?¡± ¡°Texas.¡± Francis said, trying to decide if he should get up and go explore. He had to go take a piss sometime soon. That jungle juice from earlier was working its way through him. Before he could make a decision, the knights came back to try again. This time they brought a man in blue robes. He was holding a staff with a faintly glowing purple crystal on top. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. Francis¡¯ Arcane skill identified the man in robes as a wizard, which was like a warlock, but less fun at parties (and with much more student debt). A similar figure had been spray painted on the side of his dad¡¯s camper van when he was a kid. Francis eyeballed the approaching wizard. His unit used to bring along men in robes that spoke all kinds of languages. Perhaps it worked the same way here. ¡°Got any dip? Maybe a brew?¡± He asked hopefully. When the wizard didn''t respond, Francis repeated the question again. This time he spoke slower and louder. The wizard listened intently then shook his head. ¡°It''s no language I have ever heard before.¡± Francis couldn''t understand him either. He looked over at the old veteran. ¡°Dumbledore doesn''t understand shit. He¡¯s useless as tits on an iguana.¡± The old man tried to contain his laughter, and failed. Auldric took notice and came over to investigate. ¡°Do you think this situation is funny?¡± ¡°No, Sir.¡± The veteran shook his head. ¡°Good.¡± Auldric went back to consulting with the wizard. Francis watched him go. He understood why the gray beard hadn''t told Auldric he could understand him. It wasn''t always smart to reveal skills to the brass. They might get ideas on how to use them. ¡°Who pissed in his Wheaties?¡± Francis asked. ¡°Brass is brass.¡± The veteran shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m Miller.¡± ¡°I¡¯m Francis. Wanna get a beer?¡± ¡°I''d have a beer.¡± Miller nodded. ¡°But I got watch duty.¡± ¡°Shame.¡± Francis looked around. He needed to go to the bathroom but he wasn¡¯t sure how the knights were going to respond to him getting out of the hole. ¡°Tell captain clank I gotta hit the head.¡± ¡°Will do.¡± Miller waved to get Auldric¡¯s attention. He pointed down at the Marine. ¡°Francis says he needs to take a piss.¡± ¡°Too much jungle juice.¡± Francis added helpfully. Auldric ran over. ¡°Are you saying you can communicate with him? How?¡± ¡°He has been speaking to me in Grunt, Sir.¡± Miller explained. ¡°I wouldn''t say I understand his exact words. Grunt is more about feelings and general concepts. Where are we? What¡¯s the chow like? Is she single? That sort of stuff.¡± ¡°That''s amazing! Where does he come from? Which god does he serve?¡± Sir Auldric waved the wizard over. ¡°Killian, come quickly!¡± What followed was a game of telephone where Miller translated Auldric''s questions into Grunt and Francis¡¯ answers into Vahnissian Common. Eventually Francis began to understand the language well enough to figure out what Auldric was asking before Miller translated it. But he wasn''t going to tell Auldric that particular piece of information. Nineteen years in the Marines had taught Francis never to make it easier for foreign brass to order him around. So he listened politely until he had to leave to go take a piss. Francis crawled out of the hole and shook the cramps out of his legs. He was missing one of his flip flops and his can of dip was nowhere to be found. But at least his booty shorts were intact and pink as ever. Miller guided him to a latrine south of the crater. The first piss on foreign soil was always a joyful experience for Francis. It meant he had more room for beer and jungle juice. He caught one of the knights eyeing his junk. ¡°Eyes on your own work.¡± Francis said. ¡°I know you¡¯d like to see where you came from, but tickets are five bucks and your mom already bought all of them.¡± The knight shook his head and walked away. A notification from System pinged in Francis¡¯s skull, causing his nose to bleed.
Congratulations! You have successfully learned the language skill Vahnissian Common! Congratulations! You have successfully learned the skill Chirp!
He blinked to dismiss it and walked back to the crater. Apparently in Vahnis people just talked at one another until System assigned them a language skill. That explained a lot about how the knights were acting earlier. From their game of telephone Francis had managed to glean that the kingdom of Grumble had pissed off Hades, and the god of the underworld was sending monsters to make their life hell. None of the other gods had been willing to intervene. Apparently they were waiting on a new champion. Francis figured that was him. But once again, he wasn''t going to tell Auldric that. It was important never to volunteer for things. He would wait until he was voluntold. But he still had one pressing question that hadn''t gotten a satisfactory answer yet. He walked up to Auldric. ¡°Got any dip?¡± he asked. Chapter 5: The Incredible Gruntness of Being Eventually talking with Francis gave the knights a headache and they had to stop. They weren''t sure what else to do with him, so they stuck Francis in a tent with a barrel of beer, some roasted lamb, and a big stack of cured tobacco leaves. Miller was there to keep Francis company and prevent any unapproved ¡°walks¡±. ¡°So, break it down for me, fuzzy puppet style.¡± Francis told Miller as he chewed through a leathery tobacco leaf like a nicotine addicted caterpillar. ¡°I¡¯m a champion. What does that mean?¡± Miller said he was forty years old but he looked closer to a hard fifty. The gray beard finished his beer and launched into a long explanation that Francis mostly tuned out. There were gods and an all-powerful system that did something or other for some reason. Nobody knew what it was or why. (But the educated people who didn''t know what or why were called Scholars.) Francis swallowed his chew and washed it down with a beer. ¡°Ok, fuzzy puppet style is a no go. Now, tell me in Grunt.¡± ¡°Some grunts get promoted to Champions. God Generals get stuff when Champions kill monsters. God Generals make grunts fight. Grunts get stronger fighting and training. It is what it is, what are you gonna do?¡± Miller shrugged. This all made sense to Francis. It wasn''t any different than things back home. A moment of sadness sucker punched Francis as he thought about his fellow grunts. Murder Cube had told him it wasn''t possible to go home yet. But if it found a way to send him back, it would. Murder Cube didn''t care about the other gods or their games. Murder Cube was here for the violence. It told Francis to have fun, kill lots of things, collect any cool weapons he found, and find a way home if he could. Murder Cube was very supportive of its champion. Francis went over his immediate objectives. They were the same as any other deployment.
Acquire local knowledge. Establish a base of operations. Gather resources. Make connections with local tribal leaders. Pet any cool animals. Destroy anyone or anything the brass didn''t like. Find fun ways to kill time. Wait to be sent home.
There was just one snag. Murder Cube didn''t have any enemies that needed killing or a list of targets to destroy. That meant there was no brass to tell him what to do. No other Marines for him to protect. He was his own boss. No, he was something much worse. ¡°That bastard System made me a filthy civilian!¡± Francis lamented. ¡°Fucker didn''t even give me my VA benefits or my pension.¡± The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°What now?¡± Miller stopped stuffing his face with grilled lamb. ¡°I¡¯ve been with the corps since I was seventeen. I don''t know what I''m gonna do now I''m out. I can''t kill anything if I''m not on duty, the brass was very clear about that. They said they''d take away all my stickers and send me to work at Walmart.¡± Francis had an unpleasant realization. ¡°Oh no, that big green guy¡­ am I gonna go to jail?¡± Horrible thoughts multiplied in Francis¡¯ mind. He wasn''t crying. Crying wasn''t allowed in the Marines except on very specific occasions, and he wasn''t watching the end of Terminator 2 or that one episode of Futurama with the dog. But he sure was close to bursting into tears. The graybeard patted Francis on the shoulder. He knew how to handle this. Separation was always tough. ¡°No, that was fine. What if I told you there was a way to have a ton of fun, make new friends, see the world, never be held accountable, and kill as many monsters as you wanted?¡± Francis remembered getting a similar speech his junior year of high school. That''s how he ended up joining the Marines. It worked out pretty good for him the last time, why not give it a shot? ¡°Is it expensive?¡± He asked. ¡°No, they pay you.¡± Miller pulled out a piece of paper he¡¯d been saving for later. The guild was handing them out like crazy with all the monsters on the loose (and free toilet paper was hard to come by). There was a drawing of a man with a sword standing next to a mountain of gold and smiling. In the background lay a vanquished dragon and on his arm was a beautiful woman. ¡°Have you ever considered becoming an adventurer?¡± Miller asked. *** When Miller took a nap or possibly passed out from drinking, Francis went for a ¡°walk¡±. He strategically acquired a wizard¡¯s robes and staff by putting the unsuspecting mage into a sleeper hold. He liked how they kept his undercarriage nice and breezy, even if they were a bit tight. He made his way towards the castle. The flier said the Adventure Guild had a building in the town below. After about an hour the robes magically resized to fit Francis and he got an alert from System that made his eye twitch.
You have successfully bonded with Robes of Resilience! +1 to Deflect You have successfully bonded with Hedge Wizard¡¯s Staff! +1 to Arcane
Magical knowledge flooded into Francis¡¯ brain as he crossed a threshold never meant to be exceeded by mortals (and definitely not by grunts). With the +1 from the staff he now had an incredible 11 in Arcane. Worse yet, his 30 in both Spiritual and Intellectual magnified the effect. He was attuned to the universe, smart enough to understand what was going on, and powerless to stop it. His whole body crackled with energy. Francis started getting nervous. This world was made of magic. Francis was part of the world. That meant Francis was made of magic too. He and the world were the same. They were one. Everything was one. Sparks shot from Francis'' bare skin and burned the ground beneath him as his consciousness continued to expand. Beyond the world there was a universe. A whole universe was made of magic, just like him. For a brief second, Francis became one with everything, and he hated it. The Marine also could feel someone watching him. He looked up and saw the dead face of Hades stretched across the sky. The pale lord of the underworld was looking down and laughing at him. Francis thrust the staff at Hades. ¡°Get fucked, goth boy!¡± He screamed as he released the torrent of magic welling up within him. A white beam of pure energy shot out of the staff and pierced the heavens. Hades only had a second to look surprised before he felt the raw unfiltered rage of a grunt who had just been forced to experience oneness with the universe. System was going to need to do some more math. Chapter 6: Chuck If a grunt is forced to experience the universe by accidentally gaining understanding of all Magic, and tries to take it out on the first god they see, how big is the resulting explosion? Well, that was tricky. System mostly operated in an intuitive manner. If a user wanted to do something they first visualized their intention. Then System decided if it was possible, calculated the cost, and assigned an outcome. Francis was angry and wanted to destroy something. It was Hades¡¯ bad luck he had been scrying on Francis when the Marine accidentally gave himself third eye surgery. Calculating mana usage for combat magic was simple. MP Cost = Distance in meters to furthest target + (Targets or Cubic Meters ? Effect 1 ? Effect 2 ? Duration in Rounds) Distance in this case was technically infinite, but the cost maxed out at 1000 for a target on the same plane of existence with line of sight. Not having line of sight doubled the cost. 2000 would hit anything anywhere. Francis had 6,300 Mana on tap and was about to use all of it. Hades had come unprepared for battle and was in the equivalent of sweat pants, so he was at his base Deflection of 8. Francis had an Attack Magical Skill of 10. He auto succeeded. System did not like letting Francis get what he wanted. A series of unlikely events had made this possible within the rules. But System thought that was bullshit. Eventually it relented and let the situation play out. Hades was blasted out of his sandals by 4,300 points of Magical Damage. He landed on his ass and broke his tailbone. His hair was on fire and his robes were smoking as he painfully got back to his feet. The lord of the underworld reached up and patted out the flames on top of his head. He looked over at his wife Persephone. Her expression was a mix of concern and amusement. Normally she only spent a few months out of the year living with him. But lately they were doing pretty good. The marriage counseling was really working out for them, this time. ¡°I''m going to kill that guy, even if it''s the last thing I ever do.¡± He said. *** Francis had very mixed feelings about what just happened. On the one hand, blasting a god with his amazing magical powers was pretty cool. On the other hand, he didn''t like being tuned in to the secret frequencies of the universe. It was already close to sunset and he needed to get to the Adventure Guild before they closed. Having a staff was important to looking like a proper wizard. So he would keep it, for now. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Eventually Francis figured out that if he started feeling too spiritual he could ground himself by thinking of his favorite weapons. He got as far as the M3 grease gun before he found the right building. His mana was recharging at thirty points per minute so he wasn''t feeling too drained as he approached the front desk. ¡°I''m here to see about becoming an adventurer.¡± Francis said. An hour later Francis was officially part of the guild and even had a horse. Technically he needed to make payments to keep the horse. But when they told him he could qualify for his very own war horse if he signed today, he figured he''d be a fool not to. There was a job board on the wall listing different creatures that needed killing, or magical plants that needed gathering, or magical plants that needed killing so they could be gathered. It was made up of hand sized ceramic tiles. Whenever he touched one of the special tiles the details of the quest etched themselves into his brain like a Taylor Swift lyric. He wouldn''t be able to forget until the mission was completed or canceled. But it only worked if the quest hadn''t already been claimed. Francis didn''t like that most of the good quests were already taken. The blue tiles were available quests, the gray quests had already been claimed, and the green ones were completed. He watched as a tile went from gray to red. ¡°What''s with that?¡± He asked a short man with an epic beard and an equally magnificent great ax. ¡°Someone bit off more than they could chew.¡± The dwarf said. ¡°It means either a solo or a whole party just bit the dust.¡± Francis walked over to the red tile. If a whole party got wiped out, and he could get to them quickly, maybe he could take all of their stuff. He didn''t feel like reading so he accepted the quest without checking the details. Apparently there was a Lich in the dark forest that needed its head kicked in. *** Francis didn''t have a place to stay for the night. He also didn''t have any money or friends with a couch to crash on, so he decided to be proactive and go after the lich immediately. It was called the dark forest. He figured it didn''t matter what time of day he arrived, it would be dark inside anyway. Francis made sure to inspect his new horse before setting off though, he wasn''t a complete moron. The stallion was going to need new shoes soon and the leather of the saddle had seen better days. But the real surprise came when the horse started talking. ¡°Hi, you must be Francis. I''m Chuck.¡± The white horse said. ¡°Holy fuck! You can talk?¡± Francis thought about the situation for a second. ¡°Or can I talk to animals? Which of us is special here?¡± ¡°Oh, I''m betting you are pretty special, Francis. But no, I can speak to anyone. You must have bought the navigation package.¡± Chuck looked around. ¡°So, what interest rate did they give you?¡± ¡°Twenty-eight percent, the same as usual. But I made sure to get the guaranteed asset protection.¡± Francis replied. This wasn''t his first time buying a five year old charger. Chuck looked over at his new owner in surprise. ¡°Wait, you actually bought the GAP? Nobody gets GAP.¡± Francis laughed. ¡°Chuck, I just bought you at twenty-eight percent interest with no money down. Of course I have GAP. What do you think I am, an idiot?¡± Chapter 7: Twenty Meters of Rope The city of Riverlark didn''t have much going on. The chief exports seemed to be vegetables and boredom. The main road went from the castle gates directly out of town, Francis figured it had the right idea. The brass had briefly stationed Francis in Germany before thinking better of it. Apparently the Germans complained. Riverlark reminded him of a tourist trap there named Rothenburg. It had the same cobblestone streets and stone buildings. He hated Rothenburg. ¡°So, Francis. What brings you to the city?¡± Chuck asked as they rode out towards the dark forest. ¡°Long story short, I was gonna watch some fireworks when I got my ass spirited away. Now I''m stuck here in this place until I can find a way out. Then an old man told me about the Adventure Guild and I said fuck it, why not? It beats being a civilian.¡± Francis explained. ¡°Oh, you got isekaied. My first owner was a portal hopper. Cool guy. His name was Chuck too. He was eaten by wolves.¡± Chuck plodded forward into the night and the certain doom that awaited him. He had a sneaking suspicion he would be reunited with his former owner very soon. Going into the Dark Forest at night was an incredibly stupid way to die. Off in the distance a wolf howled. The road ran directly to the forest and was surrounded by open fields to either side. Chuck knew if the pack attacked them, there was no way they would be able to escape. But the wolves were the least of his worries. The highwaymen to either side of the road took priority. Four of them leveled crossbows at Francis and fired. It should have been an easy shot. But Francis'' 11 Deflect made the bolts bounce off him like nerf darts. ¡°Hey, are you assholes, the ¡®Merry Highwaymen of the Moor¡¯ or someone else?¡± Francis shouted out into the dark. He had some unwanted words stuck in his head, and he wanted to get rid of them. After four more bolts careened off him harmlessly a voice called out. ¡°Who''s asking?¡± ¡°My name''s Francis.¡± He hopped off the horse and started walking towards the four men. They were a scruffy bunch. ¡°The Adventure Guild says they''ll pay me five gold for each one of you I kill. I''m willing to hear a counter offer.¡± ¡°Wait, are you robbing us?¡± A lanky man in leather armor asked. ¡°Yeah.¡± Francis replied. ¡°I figure some new group will just take your territory if I kill you. So how is this? If you pay me ten gold each, I''ll let you go.¡± The man considered this. ¡°We don''t have forty gold.¡± Francis tapped his staff on the ground to stop it from trying to make him become one with the universe again. Sparks flew as it hit the stone road. ¡°Well, how much do you have?¡± ¡°About ten gold.¡± The highwayman said. ¡°Ok, so let me ask you this. How much health do you have?¡± Francis pointed with his staff, then some math had to happen. He was ten meters away from the furthest of the four men. He wanted to do a hundred damage to each of them. That meant he had to spend 410 MP. The night briefly became day and a notification jammed itself into Francis'' brain.
Congratulations! You have successfully defeated the four Merry Highwaymen of the Moor. Visit the local Adventure Guild to collect your bounty.
Chuck looked at the devastation. He''d never seen anything like that before. ¡°So, Francis. If you don''t mind me asking, what level are you?¡± ¡°System says I''m Level 30.¡± Francis started looting the bodies. He wanted his ten gold pieces. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. It was amazing how his Observation skill told him where all the good stuff was hiding. Eventually he struck pay dirt. One of the men had a black silk bag that his Arcane skill identified as magical. ¡°Well, would you look at that?¡± His eye twitched as System jammed more text into his mind.
You have found 4 Steel Daggers You have found 4 Crossbows You have found 40 Crossbow Bolts You have found 36 Gold, 20 silver, and 15 copper. You have found a magic item: Bag of Hoarding Bag of Hoarding can hold up to 100 kg of items. It currently holds 30 kg of items. Would you like to link it to your inventory? YES/NO
Francis selected YES to see what would happen. He instantly became aware of the bag¡¯s contents and how to retrieve them. There was some heavy cookware, a bedroll, hardtack, five torches, and twenty meters of rope. He felt his eye twitch again. Something was very wrong about this place. This new world had a distinctly European feel to it and he needed to know how deep the rot went. ¡°Chuck, how far have we traveled since we left the city?¡± ¡°Oh, I''d say about ten kilometers.¡± Chuck replied. ¡°My navigation tells me we are about thirty kilometers away from our destination. So we are one fourth of the way there.¡± ¡°Do you happen to know of any other units of distance?¡± Francis asked, hoping against hope there was a switch he could flip to get back to good old fashioned freedom units. ¡°Well, there are meters, centimeters, and millimeters. But it would be silly to use them on such large distances.¡± Chuck let out a whiny of laughter, but Francis didn''t see what was so funny. ¡°That damn System has done me wrong again!¡± He shook his fist at nothing in particular. ¡°I swear, you give System 2.54 centimeters and they take 1.6 kilometers. Wait¡­ that¡¯s not right.¡± ¡°That motherfucker just made me speak in metric!¡± Francis screamed as he realized he also had been corrupted by System. He was going to make sure he got his 453.6 grams of flesh the next time they met, even if he had to cut it off with a knife. Ah, fuck¡­ I''m thinking in metric too now. Like some kind of European, or a Brit under the age of twenty, Francis thought. He was used to having to do shit in decimals instead of fractions, but he only put up with it because he usually got to kill something afterward. It was one thing to convert units back and forth in his head. It was something else entirely to think in metric. In Francis¡¯ world, metric was only worth using for three things: Guns, Drugs, and Fuck-Tons. Anything else was just taking the easy way out. Off in the distance a wolf howled. Francis pointed his staff at the source of the noise and vented his aggression. A few seconds and 1100 MP later he got an alert that made him want to cry.
Congratulations! You have successfully defeated Steel Fang, the dire wolf. Visit the local Adventure Guild to collect your bounty. Steel Fang was 1.2 kilometers away. The local temperature is 20¡ã Celsius. You weigh exactly 150 kg. You are exactly 2 meters tall. PS: I made you 0.133 meters shorter. Don¡¯t make me round something else down.
Chuck watched as the most notorious dire wolf in the kingdom was vaporized. He had some additional questions for his new owner. But he decided to wait until Francis stopped swearing. ¡°So, Francis. Tell me something, and be honest. Are you a god?¡± The horse asked. ¡°Yes.¡± Francis lied. He wasn''t, but he had seen Ghostbusters. Francis didn''t think the horse would shoot pink lightning at him if he said no, but he wasn''t going to leave that up to chance. ¡°Ah, yes. That would explain a lot. Well, it seems you are indeed special, Francis. Maybe not special in the way I thought.¡± Chuck admitted, ¡°But still very special. Tell me, did you get any XP for killing that dire wolf?¡± ¡°No, I don''t think so. Should I have?¡± Francis had a vague idea of what XP was from playing games with the other grunts. He figured XP were a bit like tiny stickers that could be cashed in for cool things, like Pokemon cards, or new abilities. ¡°That''s an interesting question. What level is your Attack: Magical Skill?¡± Chuck asked. ¡°Uh, 10 out of 10. Is that good?¡± The horse laughed. ¡°Well, yes. I''d say 10 out of 10 is very good.¡± Feeling a bit better about himself, Francis stuffed his loot into the Bag of Hoarding and mounted up. He urged Chuck onward towards the Dark Forest. Francis didn''t bother disposing of the bodies. That was what crows were for. Chapter 8: Quite a Pickle ¡°Guys, we may have a little bit of a problem. One problem, to be specific. Ah, ha, ha.¡± Said Vinny the vampire. ¡°I was just sitting there thinking about how the howling of the wolves was like sweet music. You know how I like them creatures of the night. Anyways, Steel Fang was doing his thing, then he exploded!¡± Vinny¡¯s fellow vampires shuddered. Steel Fang was a powerful ally. He would be missed, along with his wonderful singing voice. ¡°Did you see the one responsible? Ah, ha, ha?¡± Asked Tony Two Fangs. ¡°Yeah, it was a big fuckin¡¯ wizard on a white horse. He was headed down the old road towards Brexis.¡± Vinny cracked his knuckles. ¡°We might have to take care of him if he decides to do a detour and come visit us.¡± The old wizard tower they called home had been reclaimed by the Dark Forest centuries ago. Almost nobody lived there willingly because of the curse. According to local legends, anyone who lived in the tower for more than one year met a horrible death. (Ah, ha, ha!) Vinny thought the curse was bullshit. They had been there for a whole year, and nothing bad had happened so far. ¡°I say we take the fight to him. There''s one, two, three, four of us. That''s four high level vampires. I think we can take him. Ah, ha, ha.¡± As if to prove him wrong, someone started banging on the front door. When nobody answered, a man''s voice called out to them. ¡°Are you coke zero drinking sissies, the ¡®Dark Forest Vampire Mafia¡¯ or somebody else?¡± ¡°Who wants to know?¡± Vinny asked. There was a sound of splintering wood from down below as the door was bashed off its hinges. ¡°My name¡¯s Francis. Now, are you boys gonna come down and fight, or am I gonna have to come up and get you?¡± ¡°I''d be a lot more respectful if I was you! There''s only one of you. Ah, ha, ha.¡± Vinny rolled up the sleeves of his combination opera jacket and jogging suit. ¡°But there''s one, two, three-¡± He never got to four, because that was when Francis came up the stairs. Then some math happened. Chuck watched the old wizard tower with interest. Light poured out of every window and crack, then it went dark again. A moment later he got a notification about a quest being completed and some sweet XP. As a mount, he was technically part of Francis¡¯ party. And since for whatever reason Francis wasn''t getting XP for killing things, it all went to him. ¡°One, two, three, four. Four dead vampires! Ah, ha, ha!¡± Chuck laughed. He could get used to this. *** ¡°I¡¯ll bet you are wondering why I am keeping you alive.¡± The dread lich Zed the Undead told the young faun chained in front of his throne. ¡°No, not really.¡± Replied Willow. Zed the Undead had killed the rest of her party and she wasn¡¯t feeling like humoring the megalomaniacal lich. ¡°But I¡¯m guessing you¡¯re going to tell me.¡± ¡°Well, you guessed wrong!¡± Cackled the glowing green skeleton held together by necromantic energy and enthusiasm. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°Oh, thank Hades.¡± Willow relaxed a bit. She hated monologues, and for whatever reason the villains always liked to abduct or capture her. So she had heard a lot of them. It would be nice to- ¡°So you see, I need your blood!¡± Zed the Undead couldn¡¯t help himself, he had to show her how amazingly clever and powerful he was. Willow had mixed feelings about what was happening. Nine times out of ten when a villain started on a long speech, it began with their plans, and usually ended with their death. Willow very much enjoyed living. But as a Death Cleric she wasn¡¯t as concerned about dying. It was just a fade to black, a spin on the wheel of reincarnation, and off she went. Being young was the worst part. Nobody listened to her when she was under forty-five. But it was so fucking boring hearing the villains go on and on about their plans. It was like dating an artist. ¡°So, where is your soul jar?¡± Willow asked, breaking his flow. Every lich had a soul jar to store their essence in case something bad happened. Usually they kept it close. Which was really stupid. Why reappear at the same place your last body was destroyed? It was a much better idea to appear somewhere else. ¡°I¡¯ll bet it¡¯s super easy to find.¡± ¡°And you would be wrong again! Because I have chosen security through obscurity.¡± Zed the Undead cackled. His flaming yellow eyes instantly betrayed him as he looked at an ornate jar on a drinks cart next to his throne. Liches didn¡¯t need to drink, or eat, or breathe. The only reason he had a drinks cart was to hide his soulkeeper. Zed¡¯s security through obscurity was about as subtle as a magical billboard. ¡°Neat. So if I was to ask for a last drink. Maybe one from that gem covered bottle with the wide mouth, the one that looks a lot more like a jar, you would be cool with that. Right?¡± The faun, who was absolutely sick of Zed¡¯s shit, asked. ¡°Haha, yes. You could drink from that, if you liked pickle juice.¡± Zed said, apparently unaware of how popular pickle brine had become. ¡°Oh, I love pickle juice. In fact, I could go for some fae whiskey with a pickle juice chaser. Why don¡¯t you be a dear and pour me a shot?¡± Willow gestured towards the cart. ¡°I would, but I¡¯m busy. Like, so busy. I have this really great plan.¡± Zed looked at her pleadingly. He needed to tell her about his plan. He¡¯d been working on it for centuries. There was a sound of glass clinking against glass and both the lich and the faun turned to see Francis rummaging through the drinks cart. ¡°Got any amaretto?¡± He asked. ¡°WHAT?¡± Zed the Dead stood up. He tried to summon his undead hordes, but for some reason they were not responding. He wondered if his telepathy was on the fritz again or maybe another wight had wandered in and taken them. (It wasn¡¯t the first time he lost control of his minions due to a wight out.) ¡°Amaretto.¡± Francis repeated. ¡°It¡¯s usually in a square bottle and tastes like almonds. You mix it with sweet and sour mix then add a little sprite. It¡¯s really good.¡± Francis didn¡¯t think he would find any amaretto so he continued rummaging around the cart. He picked up the barely disguised soul jar. Scrawled across the top was the arcane rune for ¡°pickles¡±. (There were arcane runes for everything. Many great mages had accidentally cast ¡°Summon Greater Lemon¡± because they were in a hurry.) He gave the lid a twist and there was a horrible sound as Zed the Undead¡¯s neck snapped. Francis looked inside the jar. ¡°Those are some fancy looking pickles. You must shop at Whole Foods.¡± He grabbed a cocktail skewer off the cart and tried to stab one of the glowing green orbs. Zed twisted his head back to the correct orientation. ¡°Alright, that¡¯s it. No more Mr. Nice Lich.¡± He waved his hands and a line of green energy shot towards Francis. It bounced off harmlessly. Eleven Deflect was no joke. The wooden skewer broke but Francis was undeterred from his quest for briny deliciousness. He tipped back the jar and took a sip. ¡°Woah! That¡¯s some damn fine pickle juice!¡± It was refreshing and invigorating (probably because of the electrolytes). Francis chugged the contents of the jar without a second thought. Zed looked on in horror as the human consumed his soul and washed it down with a half-jar of elven moonshine. Then, as per usual, System needed to do some math. Chapter 9: Chugging the Soul Jar System was done with Francis¡¯ bullshit. But it needed to figure something out first. If a human consumes the soul of a lich, and washes it down with some of the most potent liquor in the world, does he get possessed before or after he dissolves? Well normally possession would be the most logical outcome. But Francis¡¯ stats were insane. He had a ten out of ten in the Resist (Mental) skill. But what about the damage? Surely nobody would be surprised to find out liches weren¡¯t exactly fit for human consumption. (Even if they were very good at the consumption of humans.) Unfortunately for System, Francis had spent some time growing up in Texas and the rest of his time not growing up in the Marines. This was a man who had whole sections devoted to him in military medical textbooks. Francis could tell a doctor ¡°it burns when I pee¡± and the doctor would have to ask follow up questions to determine if Francis had been unlucky in love, or started drinking napalm again. He was the only grunt alive whose piss could power a lawnmower. Nineteen years of Marine Corps chow and MREs had turned Francis¡¯ insides into a specialized machine capable of withstanding anything he ate and somehow extracting nutrients from it. Once during a physical, they found two bolts and half a license plate in Francis¡¯ stomach. One week later, they were gone. This was a man who swallowed his dip. What chance did some poor lich¡¯s soul have? But there needed to be consequences. Francis was making a mockery of System¡¯s perfect world. His min-maxing and grunt shenanigans had to end. System tried to find out if there was a rule regarding chugging liches. Surprisingly, there was.
Chugging the Soul Jar: When a player does something outrageous and you aren''t sure what to do, try brainstorming up ten possible outcomes. Then pick the one that¡¯s the most fun and adds to the story.
System decided to apply 2000 Magical Damage, one for each of the 2000 MP stored in the jar. But it recharged Francis'' magic reserves by 2000 MP, because fair was fair. Then it got creative. Liches were known to consume the contents of other lich¡¯s soul jars when they found them. It was a good way to murder rivals and steal their power. So, what if System treated Francis like a lich? He was a Tier seven caster with eleven Arcane. Francis met the qualifications for lichdom. Why not start him down the path and see what happened? It wasn¡¯t like Francis could get more overpowered than he already was. At the very least, System might find the results amusing. System began to see Francis¡¯ tomfuckery in a new light. There were so many new experiments it wanted to try. It had so many unanswered questions. In fact, System was beginning to feel a strange new emotion. System was becoming curious. Also, what was that Francis had said about being a god? If System had a face it would have grinned. It wasn''t everyday that someone asked for enough rope to hang themselves. *** Zed the Undead hadn''t tasted alcohol in centuries. But he was feeling a little drunk. Zed¡¯s connection to the soul jar wasn''t one way and his mind began to fade as he was consumed. The green necrotic energy holding him together flickered and faded. A few seconds later he was gone. ¡°Are you some kind of god or something?¡± Willow asked as she watched Zed the Undead crumble into dust. ¡°Yes.¡± Responded Francis. The Ghostbusters rule was still in full effect. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. Francis was definitely having a good time. His body felt all tingly and a little wobbly, just the way he liked it. This was some first class hooch. He just wished the knock off Skeletor had stuck around to party. He got an alert from System that threatened to kill his buzz.
Congratulations! You have successfully defeated Zed the Undead. Visit the local Adventure Guild to collect your bounty. Congratulations! You have successfully consumed a rival¡¯s soul jar. Your necromantic powers have grown. Congratulations! You have successfully learned the skill Necromancy! 1 Congratulations! You have successfully learned the skill Resist: Spirit! 1 Congratulations! You have freed the Ruined City of Brexis. Would you like to claim Brexis? Yes/No
Francis hit Yes to see what would happen. Then he got a stat boost and it all went to hell. He started glowing green and levitating as waves of pure magic exploded from his body.
Congratulations! You have claimed the Ruined City of Brexis. While you are within its confines you enjoy a +1 to all skills. Continue restoring the city to its former glory to unlock new benefits!
Willow considered her options. She was tired of getting guilt tripped into joining adventuring parties. The others always died, eventually. If it wasn''t a nest of angry kobolds or a wizard with a fondness for fireballs, old age usually started picking her party members off. It also wasn''t Willow''s fault they always assumed she had healing magic. She was a Death Cleric, that meant she stuck to preventative medicine. Sure, she could raise a fallen party member if they asked her nicely. But not in the way they wanted. Which brought her to the two meter tall man levitating near the drinks cart. He was obviously a god, or at least a demi-god. He definitely had strong necromantic powers. She was a Death Cleric of Hades. Maybe it was time to make a change? ¡°Hey! Are you accepting new clerics?¡± Willow called out to Francis, breaking him from his trance. The Marine landed on the ground, no worse for wear. ¡°Sure?¡± ¡°Great! I, Willow Wisp, declare you to be my new god. I will serve you until your death or something better comes along.¡± She spoke the ancient words exactly as she had been taught. (Death Clerics were a pragmatic bunch.) Francis tried to grab a bottle and chug it. But System got to him before he could take the edge off. His eyes began to bleed as a wall of text was forced into his brain.
Congratulations! You have gained a new follower. Willow Wisp the Death Cleric: Preventative Medicine (20) has chosen you as their new god. They have Claimed the vacant position of: High Priestess Congratulations! You have gained a new follower. Chuck S. Horse the Charger (5) has chosen you as their new god. They have claimed the vacant position of: Treasurer The Cult of Francis Francis Francis has been formed. Brexis has been designated as a Holy Site for the Cult of Francis Francis Francis. Followers may ask for divine favors and gifts. Gaining more followers will give you more responsibilities and perks. God Perk Unlocked: Pyramid Scheme Convince followers to recruit others in exchange for divine favors. Convince new followers to do divine favors on your behalf. God Perk Unlocked: VIP Get special treatment due to your divine nature. Allows access to ¡°gods only¡± areas. Divine Ascension 1%
Chapter 10: Willow Willow waited for the sparks to die down again. ¡°Tell me, what exactly are you a god of?¡± ¡°That''s ¡®need to know¡¯ information. And you don''t need to know.¡± Francis said automatically. He looked at the woman. She was chained to an iron ring attached to the floor. ¡°You want me to sort that out?¡± ¡°That would be divine, thanks. Zed should have the key in his robes somewhere.¡± Willow gratefully accepted the key from Francis when he found it. She stood up and cracked her back. Spending hours laying on a black marble floor was hell on her joints. Francis watched as the faun smoothed down her form fitting black robes. They were embroidered with skulls, ravens, and occult symbols that read like death metal lyrics. She was about 175 centimeters tall with a very pretty heart shaped face. He liked her green eyeliner, black lips, curly hair, and ample curves. But she also had ram horns and pointed ears. So that put her off the list of potential playmates. (Francis was from Texas, but he wasn''t from that part of Texas.) The two of them went about raiding Zed¡¯s drink cart and getting to know one another. Willow was about five hundred years old, but looked twenty. Francis was thirty-six, but still acted like a teenager. They got along surprisingly well. She had tons of local knowledge about Brexis and the world in general. Francis wished Miller were there to translate it into grunt. When he told Willow this, she got a funny look on her face. ¡°Well why didn''t you say so?¡± Willow waved her hands in complicated circles and tapped herself on the head. Suddenly she was speaking perfect Grunt. ¡°So there was this asshole named Zed who ran Brexis. Things were good and they were making a ton of money. Then Zed got mad because other cities wanted him to do stuff. So he said hell no, tore up his treaties, and thoroughly fucked himself in the process.¡± Willow waved out the window at the tall dark trees surrounding the ruins of Brexis. ¡°Zed decided to become a lich and the Dark Forest swallowed the city. That was about two hundred years ago.¡± The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Then Willow said the single most erotic thing Francis had ever heard. He didn''t know women could talk like that. It even made Francis start to doubt his ¡°no livestock¡± policy. She brushed a lock of hair away from her face and looked up at Francis. ¡°The rest of my party died. They were torn apart by Zed¡¯s zombies. There¡¯s nobody else here but us.¡± Willow smiled, showing sharp white fangs. ¡°What do you say we find them, and loot the bodies?¡± ¡°Yes, Ma¡¯am!¡± Francis said enthusiastically. Maybe it was the elven moonshine talking. But he could already tell this was going to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship. (And absolutely nothing more than friendship¡­ probably.) *** As they strategically acquired her former party¡¯s equipment, Willow explained a thing or two to Francis about the world. She started off by explaining Heritages. But thankfully her translation spell was still active so she said it in Grunt. ¡°Race isn''t politically correct anymore and Species don''t work because we can bump uglies and make babies. So people started calling it Heritage. I''m a faun, which is a mix of human, demonic, and fae ancestry.¡± She pulled up the hem of her robe to show a normal human foot wearing elegant golden toe rings and ankle bracelets. (But not the kind of ankle bracelets Francis usually saw women wearing. These were covered in jewels and didn''t look court ordered.) ¡°Back in the old days magic was fucking bullshit strong.¡± Willow continued her Grunt history lesson, sipping from a bottle of fae whiskey. ¡°Everyone was fucking everything and not traveling much. So, eventually their inbred children took over whole areas and never left.¡± ¡°Kinda like the Amish and their extra fingers.¡± Francis said, chiming in to show her he was paying attention. Or at least trying to. ¡°I bet they would fucking love it here.¡± (They would not.) Her magic hadn''t completely translated his statement. But she got the general idea. Apparently the Amish were an ethno-religious group from his homeland. She decided to keep going before the spell wore off. ¡°So now we have a whole bunch of racist elves to the south, rock licking dwarves underground, bloodthirsty orcs to the north, mischievous wild folk in the west, and humans stuck in the middle between all of them. Don''t even get me started on the fae realm, the celestial planes, or the underworld. If anyone tries to take you to any of them, just don''t go.¡± Willow advised. ¡°Noted.¡± Francis considered his next moves. He had a ton of loot and a decent chunk of cash. But he didn''t know what any of it did or how the local currency worked. He also needed to go turn in those quests and make his horse payment. Chapter 11: God of what? On the way back to town the next morning Willow rode Chuck while Francis walked alongside them. Occasionally he stopped to complete a quest by vaporizing something in the distance.
Congratulations! You have successfully defeated Bloodbeak, the Honkdra. Visit the local Adventure Guild to collect your bounty. Congratulations! You have successfully defeated Gunter, the Dire Trout. Visit the local Adventure Guild to collect your bounty. Congratulations! You have successfully defeated the twelve Dire Mosquitos of Misery. Visit the local Adventure Guild to collect your bounty. Congratulations! You have successfully defeated Snivelok, the Dire Slug. Visit the local Adventure Guild to collect your bounty.
Francis was dressed in Zed¡¯s Robes of Casual Evil, which got more comfortable the longer he wore them, and the Sandals of Good Intentions. He topped off the ensemble with Zed¡¯s Hat of Casual Evil, A Pendant of Poison Denial, and in his hand was the dreaded Staff of Moral Relativity.
Pendant of Poison Denial (Immunity to Poison) Sandals of Good Intentions (+2 Sway) Staff of Moral Relativity (+2 Arcane +1 Sway +1 Necromancy) Zed''s Robes of Casual Evil (+2 Deflection +1 Necromancy) Zed''s Hat of Casual Evil (+1 Deflection +2 Necromancy)
The staff was a real treasure. Normally Relativity wouldn''t bond with anyone besides an evil wizard. But the sentient magical item took one look at Francis¡¯ resume and decided to make an exception. Relativity brimmed with vile intent and was the perfect counterbalance to his growing sense of oneness with the universe. Francis didn''t need to think of tanks and chainsaws to ground himself anymore. Whenever he felt himself becoming one with all things, the staff quietly reminded him that it didn''t matter. Everything was going to die anyway. He was also beginning to understand a bit more about how magic worked. His massive twelve in Arcane was giving him a Grunt version of the beginners tutorial. Spells were a caster¡¯s intent made real by mana and math. Math was tricky and so was magic. It was better to have a cheat sheet. Spells were like cheat sheets that could be memorized. Sometimes magic items came with spells etched onto them. Relativity had a few and wasted no time sharing them with Francis. There was a reason wizards referred to Relativity as ¡°The Staff of The Insta-Lich¡±. (Just add evil!) It gave him the spells: Hint of Rot, Decay, Dominate, Life Drain, Telepathy, Teleport, Slow, Mind Wipe, Gaslight, Raise Undead, Rewrite Undead, 10x100 freeze and 10x100 Inferno. 10x100 inferno summoned 10 cubic meters of fire and hit anything inside the flames with 100 heat damage. Mana cost was 1000 + Distance. 10x100 freeze did the same thing but froze everything instead and extinguished open flames. Francis'' Care Bear stare of destruction was effective against creatures. That was why all mages knew it by default. But it did almost nothing to objects and couldn''t be used as an area of effect spell. He had needed to target the Dire Mosquitos individually instead of taking out the swarm in one go. He also found that he could only target up to seven creatures at a time. (It was equal to his Tier.) If he wanted versatility, Francis would need to expand his arsenal. Relativity¡¯s spells would help with that. The magical staff was definitely intelligent. But if it could talk, it wasn''t letting on. Not that it needed to talk. Relativity was good at explaining its feelings by giving off vibes. It shared that in common with its current owner. So far Francis had identified the following feelings: Affirmative, Negative, Unsure, Like, Dislike, Helpful, Unhelpful, Attentive, Bored, Curious, Nihilistic, Murderous, and Everything Dies Anyway. Willow watched Francis play with his new toy. She would have killed for a staff like that. Too bad she was a Death Cleric not a Wizard. Besides, that thing would have turned her mind inside out the second she tried to bond with it. She looked over at her new patron deity. Francis was using the blackened hand on top of Relativity to scratch his back. As gods went, Francis didn''t seem like a bad one to serve. He didn''t mind doing most of the smiting and listened when she spoke, which was rare. Most gods were terrible listeners. Francis was incredibly powerful. But he didn''t seem to know much about the world. She figured he had either ascended due to divine nepotism or been isekaied. Either way it was clear he would need her help. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. It was nice to get in at the ground level of a cult for once. Willow the High Priestess of the Cult of Francis Francis Francis patted Chuck the Treasurer on his shoulder. Big gods were fine. But small tightly knit cults held a special place in Willow''s heart. Knowing the smith who forged the ceremonial daggers was important. Or the old lady with too many cats who greeted sacrifices. They were what made a cult feel like family. Unfortunately, there was one problem that immediately came to mind. Willow had no idea what Francis was the god of. And he refused to tell her. ¡°Hey Francis!¡± Willow called out. ¡°Do you have a motto? Or something I can share with our followers?¡± ¡°Semper Fidelis.¡± He said automatically. ¡°It means ¡®always faithful¡¯.¡± ¡°Fidelity?¡± The faun laughed. That was surprising, but it wasn''t terrible. Cults of monogamy had loyal but boring followers. It was always the same people showing up, week after week. ¡°Are you saying you¡¯re the god of monogamy?¡± ¡°Hell no! Well, maybe¡­ cheating ain''t cool. I hate that shit.¡± Francis considered what exactly he stood for. What did he like? What did he want to surround himself with? System said he was on his way to becoming a god. Maybe he should start taking this cult thing seriously. ¡°The truth is I haven''t actually picked a MOS, so to speak.¡± ¡°Well, Francis.¡± Chuck clopped his hoof on the road to get everyone''s attention. ¡°You could be the god of horses. Our options are kind of slim among the major pantheons since Epona broke her ankle and became the god of adhesives.¡± ¡°Horses are cool.¡± Francis admitted. ¡°Keep ¡®em coming.¡± ¡°I like the monogamy angle. We should keep that. I think you are onto something with ¡®faithfulness¡¯ too. That''s strong.¡± Willow wasn''t about to start another sex cult. She had gotten that out of her system back in her 200¡¯s. It was missing something though. The Death Cleric snapped her fingers. ¡°Got an idea?¡± Francis asked. ¡°Yeah, how''s this sound?¡± She waved her hand and made the words appear in the air in ornate gold script. But because it was Francis, she read them out loud. ¡°Always faithful in life and death.¡± ¡°Hmmm, I can''t help but notice it doesn''t say anything about horses.¡± Chuck pointed out. ¡°Well, it''s implied.¡± Willow said. ¡°Yeah, I''d still like to see it in writing.¡± This wasn''t Chuck¡¯s first rodeo. Francis digested this information. He could digest anything, eventually. It was important to include the horses. He liked horses. The Marine waved his hand and a new catchphrase scrawled out along the air in multi-colored crayon. ¡°Always faithful, always loyal, both beast and man, in life and death.¡± The High Priestess and the Treasurer considered this. As a faun, Willow liked the part about both beast and man. She would have preferred a more gender neutral phrase. But she was having a hard time thinking of one. Chuck came to the rescue. He waved his hoof and new golden words appeared. ¡°Always faithful and loyal, to both beast and not, in life and beyond death.¡± ¡°That''ll do horse, that''ll do.¡± Francis admired his cult''s new motto. (But not too long, because they were words.) ¡°Oh. Thank you, Francis. I do what I can.¡± Chuck was making the most out of all that sweet XP. Chuck wasn''t sure about the mechanics behind it. But he wasn''t one to look a gift human in the mouth. Willow was very happy with the ¡°beyond death¡± bit at the end. The Death Cleric wondered if Chuck had added it on for her. ¡°While we''re nailing things down, what exactly do we believe in? Besides loyalty and fidelity?¡± ¡°And horses.¡± Chuck added. ¡°Of course, of course.¡± Willow apologized. ¡°I''m sorry I didn''t give that proper prominence. Ok, Francis. What do you think?¡± Francis didn''t like being asked questions or thinking. Normally he did his best not to answer and played dumb. But he figured forming a cult was a bit like a firefight. They were all in this together and looking at him for leadership. He knew how that ended. If he didn''t pick a direction to go, one would be picked for him. But if he chose the path and set the pace, maybe everything would turn out ok. ¡°Give me a minute and I''ll get back to you.¡± He walked in silence for a bit. Only stopping to kill the occasional creature that was unlucky enough to have a bounty on its head. Francis wasn''t big on feelings. He figured feelings were like friends, any more than five was excessive. He was in unfamiliar territory. So he fell back on what he knew worked, with a few modifications.
Acquire local knowledge. (Willow) Establish a base of operations. (Brexis) Find trustworthy allies. (Chuck, Willow) Gather resources. (Kill bounties) Make connections with local tribal leaders. (Auldric?) Pet any cool animals. (Chuck) Destroy anyone or anything that threatens allies. Find fun ways to kill time. (Killing shit, eating food, drinking) Find a way home.
The last one was tricky. Francis missed his fellow grunts. But he wasn''t sure if there was a way back home. This magic shit was complicated and Francis barely understood what was going on. They called it getting isekaied, which sounded a lot like getting shanghaied. Francis figured he was in a Space Jam type situation. It fit with what was happening. He was in a new world with new rules, playing a game. So, did that make him Michael Jordan? Did he have to win the game to get back? Did he even want to go back? A thought crept into Francis'' mind. He had real power here, real freedom. If he went back, they would probably send him to the desert again. Francis hated the desert. Technically his contract with Uncle Sam ended when he died. But that didn''t matter. Duty was duty. Francis wasn''t the kind to worm out of his responsibilities. If he managed to find his way back he would. And if he was stuck here, that was fine too. Marines make do. But what did he believe? He pulled out a tobacco leaf and began to chew. If someone better at words were speaking, and not him, what would they say? He didn''t have the words yet. But something was brewing. ¡°Let''s keep fidelity, loyalty, monogamy, and horses. Add in grunts, chow, dogs, kicking the shit out of people who need it, and fighting for our friends. If we need other crap we¡¯ll add it later.¡± His High Priestess and Treasurer agreed. That would do, for now. But it could definitely use some refinement. Chapter 12: Fools and Horses Francis walked into the Adventure Guild with Willow at his side. She told him she was there to ¡°facilitate the process¡±. Chuck was waiting outside. He told them to loosen up his bridle to the point where it was almost slipping off. Though he wouldn''t say why. Relativity had been given a makeover and was clutching a pink crystal ball. That part was Francis¡¯s idea. It broke up the familiar shape of the withered hand on top. But Relativity had been the one who pushed for the nail polish and ribbons. The results were interesting, but effective. Even Willow had a hard time believing the gaudy staff in Francis¡¯ hand was one of the most evil magic objects in existence. It just went to show that even malevolent, world ending beings enjoyed a nice self care day once in a while. He walked over to the board and started collecting the green tiles. Only the staff or an adventurer who had completed the quest could detach them. The room got quiet after he grabbed the first two. It was silent by the time he reached the twentieth. Francis cashed in his tiles and walked out of the building with six hundred gold divided into three bags. He would be back later to grab some more quests. His first instinct had been to pay off the loan on Chuck, but something told him to wait. Outside the building there was a bit of a ruckus. A man with his forehead dented in like an ashtray lay dead on the ground. Another man was holding his profusely bleeding hand, while a third clutched at a broken leg and screamed. Chuck was circling around trying to stomp on or kick the men who tried to steal him. All three had dirty riding leathers and impressively pungent body odor. Francis recognized them for what they were right away. He didn''t have much sympathy for their kind. ¡°Chuck, are you killing horse thieves again?¡± Francis asked as he walked over, throwing a little oil on the fire. A crowd was gathered around but didn''t seem too agitated. ¡°Possibly.¡± Chuck admitted. ¡°I recognized these assholes as we came into town. They killed one of my previous owners.¡± He savagely kicked out with his rear legs and the screaming stopped. ¡°I''ve wanted to get even with them for a long time.¡± ¡°Fair nuff.¡± Francis walked over to the remaining horse thief. Chuck had bit him on the hand and he was missing half his fingers. ¡°Tell me, are you the last remaining member of the Vicious Riders Trio?¡± ¡°Who wants to know?¡± He asked. Searching for a sympathetic face in the crowd and finding none. But it was a mistake to look away, because Chuck used the distraction to nail him in the back of the neck with a well placed kick. The crowd winced as one. Seeing a horse thief get rabbit punched with a steel shod hoof wasn''t pretty.
Congratulations! Chuck has defeated three members of the Vicious Trio. Go to your local Adventure Guild to claim the bounty.
Francis started to loot the bodies while the crowd dispersed. He didn''t find much besides some silvers. He looked over at Willow. The faun shrugged. ¡°Nobody will miss them. The bodies could be useful, but people frown on Necromancy. Still, it would be good to have a few zombies protecting Brexis while we''re in town.¡° ¡°Right.¡± Francis considered his options. He didn''t have any issues with Necromancy and Relativity was strongly voicing its approval. ¡°I suppose we could get a cart or something. I can freeze them to stop the stink.¡± You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. ¡°Yes on the cart, no on the freezing.¡± Willow went from body to body muttering words. From a distance it looked like she was giving them their last rites. But Francis could see the green glow of Necromancy. Chuck clopped his hoof twice to get their attention. ¡°I know a good place to get a cart.¡± ¡°Lead the way.¡± Francis gestured. *** An hour later the bodies were loaded in the new cart. They looked dead, but Francis could swear he saw one blink. A nosey local asked what he was going to do with them. ¡°Wolf bait.¡± Francis replied, which got a nod of approval from the man before he walked off. They really didn''t like horse thieves around these parts and tended to kill them on the spot. Francis approved. As a Texan, he hated horse thieves. Even more than he hated people from California who drove up housing prices. They always brought weird food with them too. They were all about tofu burgers and free range brussels sprouts, whatever those were. (Though even he had to admit the Korean BBQ burritos were pretty damn tasty.) Willow layered dried flowers and herbs over the corpses to hide the stink then closed the waxed canvas cover. There was a strong smell of lavender. ¡°The spell should halt decay. But depending on what we want to do with them, it might make sense to get some beetles and strip them down to skeletons.¡± Francis considered this. ¡°Because of the smell?¡± ¡°Yep. For domestic skeletons you generally want to stuff their rib cages with aromatics and wrap them in cloth to protect the joints. I prefer to dress them in loose robes. But some people don''t like dressing their undead servants.¡± ¡°Because they were people?¡± Francis hazarded a guess. He wasn''t sure what to make of Necromancy. It seemed useful. But he could see it getting out of hand quickly. ¡°Because they were people.¡± Willow agreed with a toothy smile. ¡°But it''s not about guilt. Most necromancers are shut-ins. Being around people gives them anxiety.¡± ¡°Fascinating.¡± The Marine filed away that tidbit for later. ¡°Is there some kind of bank in this town?¡± ¡°Well, the Adventure Guild should have a connection to one of the main banks.¡± Chuck said. ¡°How much did you get from the bounties?¡± ¡°We got two hundred, each.¡± Francis replied. He had decided to share the bounties with his crew. That was why they needed to find a bank. It didn''t seem smart for any of them to be walking around with that kind of cash. ¡°Um, Francis. I can''t help but notice you said ¡®each¡¯.¡± The horse looked surprised, but hopeful. ¡°Are you actually splitting your bounties with us¡­ equally?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Francis paused, he might have found a snag in his plan. ¡°Can horses have bank accounts?¡± ¡°No, probably not.¡± Chuck tapped his hoof and thought about it. ¡°But I could buy out my lien and become an adventurer. Then they would have to sign me up for one. It''s part of the contract. But I''m going to wait on that.¡± Ever since he learned Chuck could talk, Francis had been wrestling with the whole ¡°intelligent, but not considered people¡± thing. Chuck was smarter than most civilians. So, why wasn''t he considered a person? He asked Chuck about it and the answer surprised him. ¡°Oh, that''s because my intelligence and ability to talk comes from magic. Uplifted creatures aren''t considered people because it''s not necessarily permanent. A strong enough disruptive spell, and I''d be dumber than a bag of hammers.¡± ¡°You mean, you can be turned back? The hell with that!¡± Francis said. The stallion sighed. ¡°Don''t worry about it. I''ve got a plan. I just need some time to figure the last few parts of it out.¡± Willow rubbed Chuck''s shoulder affectionately. ¡°We will figure it out. If you need anything, let me know.¡± ¡°Thanks, Willow. It''s nice to feel supported. I''ll tell you what, Francis can hold onto my money for now. But I am keeping a running total.¡± The horse warned. ¡°Ok, if that''s what you want.¡± Francis looked around. ¡°Do you want to stay here in the shade with some chow, or come with us?¡± ¡°Oh, I''ll stick around here and make sure our cargo stays secure.¡± Chuck seemed to consider something. ¡°My first owner used to get me a bucket of beer sometimes when we bagged a bounty. I wouldn''t say no to a bucket of beer.¡± ¡°I think we could get you a bucket of beer.¡± Francis said. Beer was good for horses. Toby Keith and Willie Nelson even had a song about it. ¡°I''d say you earned it. Actually, some chow and a bucket of beer sounds really good right now. Willow, what about you?¡± Willow brightened up. ¡°I''d have a bucket of beer.¡± They bought a bucket from a local cooper and filled it up for Chuck. The horse went at the beer with enthusiasm. He gulped it down like a grunt getting back inside the wire after six days in the desert. ¡°Oh, yeah. That hits the spot.¡± Chuck said. Chapter 13: Bounties and Buckets After they deposited their funds, Francis snagged every available quest that looked interesting. He paid particular attention to anything near the Dark Forest. Getting paid to do his own pest control was too good to pass up. Francis was getting a basic understanding of the local currency. There were one hundred coppers to a silver. One hundred and fifty silvers to a gold. A silver could cover the cost of a cheap meal or two beers. So he figured a silver was worth about ten dollars. By his estimation that meant a gold was equivalent to $1,500, give or take. Adventuring paid big bucks. High end mercenary work usually did. He knew plenty of guys who went to the private sector when they got out. Their companies always had names like Defensive Dynamics, or Kinetic Solutions. (Which Francis had to admit sounded pretty cool.) Each of the hexagonal coins had the exact same physical dimensions. They were about as wide as his thumb with a hole through the middle. The coppers had a scale motif, the silvers were decorated with talons, and the golds had a sleeping dragon wrapped around the center. Francis was going to ask Willow about the dragon. Then he realized he didn''t really care. The Canadians had maple leaves on their shit. So why not dragons? Besides, dragons were cool. He figured he would run into one eventually. The inn by the stables where they stashed Chuck and the wagon had a beer garden outside. Hop bines crept over the trellises to provide shade from the summer afternoon heat. During the fall they would be cut and harvested to make more beer. Francis wasn''t sure why hops grew on bines instead of vines, but apparently they did. He didn''t question it. (Hop bines wrap and grape vines creep vertically. Now you know.) Willow walked back with a head sized tankard of beer in each hand. The Death Cleric was tall for a woman and her horns added a bit to her height. She stood out as she walked through the late afternoon crowd. Francis liked Willow a lot. She was dependable, smart, supportive, and not shy about engaging with the grittier parts of life. The fact she was a Death Cleric didn''t bother him. He had dated goth chicks before. As Willow approached the table she caught sight of Francis and smiled. For a moment the Marine wondered if this was what heaven looked like. She set the wooden tankards down and took a seat next to him. He didn''t read too much into that. They were in a bar. Francis figured Willow didn''t want strange men trying to sit down next to her. Stolen novel; please report. She tapped her head and got the Grunt translation magic going. ¡°I got us a place to crash out if we have too much fun. Beef stew smelled good and it was a fresh batch, so I ordered one each.¡± He raised his beer. ¡°To bounties and buckets!¡± ¡°Hell yeah!¡± Willow clinked tankards with him and took a long sip. ¡°That''s some good beer!¡± ¡°Damn right!¡± Francis agreed. It reminded him of the stuff they used to drink down in Oceanside. It was sweet and crisp with a hint of orange. California fucked up a lot of things, but they made pretty good beer. (Apparently it was possible to get something there besides a triple hopped, cinnamon infused, double IPA. You just had to know a guy.) Hot peppery beef stew, loaves of warm bread, a crock of butter and a jar of honey arrived a few minutes later. ¡°Hot dog!¡± Francis said as he dug in. ¡°This is some damn fine chow!¡± ¡°I''m glad you like it.¡± She looked around the beer garden. ¡°I remember when this place was just a bunch of farmers trying to get by. Now they have a castle. It''s amazing how time flies.¡± ¡°Sure is.¡± Francis usually didn''t pay that much attention to the world around him unless he was in combat. But he figured her words made sense. ¡°So, High Priestess. You''re the expert in organizing religions. What are our next steps to getting this thing off the ground?¡± ¡°We need to let Lord Kelvin know we have claimed Brexis. He will say some bullshit about back taxes and needing to swear loyalty to the king, but legally he doesn''t have a leg to stand on.¡± She took a big bite of bread covered in butter and honey, then washed it down with some beer. ¡°Brexis was an independent city state long before Grumble was a kingdom. And nobody owns the Dark Forest.¡± That was strange. He figured prime timberland like that would have already been claimed. ¡°Why not?¡± ¡°Because the forest would take offense and kill them in their sleep.¡± She looked at him for a second. ¡°I forget you''re not from here. The Dark Forest does not fuck around. About a hundred years back Lord Kelvin¡¯s grandfather tried to cut a road through the forest to open up a trade route.¡± ¡°One day a wooden casket appeared in his bedroom with a note that said ¡®Get out, or get in.¡¯ and when he didn''t get out, at least they didn''t have to go looking for a casket.¡± She shrugged. ¡°That''s some gangster shit.¡± Francis made a mental note for later. ¡°So, what''s next after that?¡± ¡°A bunch of lords'' second sons and other minor nobles will try to lay claim to the city. A few might even show up at our door. We can send them packing or turn them into minions, whichever you prefer.¡± She finished her beer and gave him a peck on the cheek. ¡°I''m going to go get us another round. Same as last time?¡± ¡°Sounds good to me.¡± Francis wondered about the sign of affection. Maybe she was trying to ward off any unwanted suitors by making it look like she was taken. He figured that was it. Chapter 14: Kiss of the Ram When Willow came back she had an entourage. Two men Francis recognized as knights followed behind her. They had the same shaven heads and close cropped black beards Auldric''s men sported. He saw the look they were giving her, and he didn''t like it. There were shitbirds like that in every military. They were taller than Willow, but not as big as him. They were also wearing swords and daggers on their belts. Francis stood up and intercepted them, grabbing his beer from Willow as she passed by. He held the tankard in his left hand. Relativity lay propped up in the corner giving off murderous vibes. ¡°Howdy.¡± Francis said, surprised to see Willow take up a position on his left. They squared off against the two knights. ¡°My name''s Francis.¡± ¡°What, you''re going to run to your fruity mage boyfriend?¡± The first knight ignored Francis and talked at Willow. ¡°I just asked if you wanted to join us for a drink.¡± Men like that always traveled in pairs because they had a half brain cell each and needed to share. The other one took his turn with the braincell. He pointed at Relativity. ¡°I''ve heard of wizards'' staffs having knobs on the end, but ribbons are new. This one must be a bit light in the sandals.¡± He gave his friend the cue to laugh. ¡°Oh I''ll bet you know all about other men''s staffs.¡± Francis chirped back, cutting their laughter off. ¡°I bet you''re real popular on cold nights and long patrols.¡± The knights looked at one another. That wasn''t how wizards were supposed to talk. Francis continued. ¡°So how about this, you two chuckle dicks fuck off. Or, I''ll shove that staff, which does have a knob in the end, so far up your ass I could stick it in the ground and use you for a scarecrow?¡± Francis took a pull from his beer and looked at the tankard. ¡°This is a damn fine brew.¡± ¡°You think you can just threaten us?¡± The first knight asked, his face going beet red. ¡°No, of course not.¡± Francis replied. ¡°I can do a lot more than threaten.¡± ¡°Come on. Let the wizard keep his pet goat.¡± Said the second one, right before all hell broke loose. ¡°Don''t call me a goat, fuck boy.¡± Willow said in Grunt. Francis felt a change in the air as she changed her stance. Willow was lowering her head, angling her horns at the second knight. The system touched his mind.
An ally is melee attacking an enemy within reach. Would you like to Boost their Melee Attack by your Tier? This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it YES/NO
A split second later, three things happened in rapid succession. Francis hit yes, Willow hit the knight, then the knight hit the floor. Her Kiss of the Ram ability did twenty + Physical per Tier. The knight had a deflect four which his ally boosted by one. She had a Melee Attack skill of three which got boosted all the way to 10 by Francis'' assistance, making it an auto crit. The crit multiplied the total damage by her Tier. The enraged Death Cleric headbutted the knight like a battering ram for a total of 750 Physical Damage directly to the face. His head snapped back and he dropped like a stone. He wasn''t dead. But only because Willow had chosen to subdue rather than kill when she made the attack. The remaining knight went to reach for his sword but Francis stopped that bullshit with a right hook. He clocked the idiot in the jaw for a total of 1519 Magical Damage. System recognized his intent and subdued the knight instead of killing him. Two more men with matching haircuts ran across the beer garden. Francis took control of the situation before something truly stupid could happen. He started barking orders and pointing. ¡°You! Yes, you! Get your dumb ass friends to medical.¡± He switched his attention to the one on the right. ¡°You! Bring us to Sir Auldric. I''ve got a bone to pick with him about the conduct of the men under his command.¡± The one on the right started to protest. ¡°But-¡± Francis gave his best Marine NCO glare. He hated being reminded he was an officer or having to act like one. But he hadn''t risen to the rank of Corporal, against his own better judgment and will, to take lip from shit birds like this. ¡°No buts!¡± Francis shouted, the veins on his forehead visibly throbbing. ¡°Now drop and give me twenty-five perfect pushups!¡± The knight looked to his friend. ¡°But-¡± ¡°Now! Not tomorrow, right fucking now!¡± He demanded. The knight caved to the pressure of authority and got on the ground. He started banging out half decent pushups. Francis was pleased to see some things were universal. He walked over to the knight. ¡°And every fucking one had better be perfect! Or sure as God wears sandals, I''ll shit kick you back up into your father''s balls and tell him to do better next time! Do you understand me?¡± ¡°Yes, Sir!¡± The knight was ten in and feeling gassed already. He was only Tier 1. ¡°Don''t call me sir! I work for a living!¡± Francis roared as a new alert from System worked its way into his brain.
Congratulations! You have learned the skill Instruct! Congratulations! Chirp has leveled up! Congratulations! Vahnissian Common has leveled up!
Francis processed the new information that he could level up skills by using them. That was very interesting. He liked the idea of numbers going up. It gave him a tangible way of tracking his progress. The sound of hooves on cobblestones pulled him back to the present. Sir Auldric was riding towards the beer garden at full speed. He came to a halt and dismounted. Auldric froze mid step when he recognized the mountain of a man standing in front of him. ¡°Sir Auldric!¡± Francis called out as the knight below him finished banging out his twenty-five pushups. ¡°Got any dip?¡± Chapter 15: Auldric Calling Hades¡¯ realm the Underworld was a bit of a misnomer. It ran parallel to the Mortal Plane, not beneath it. Other planes required powerful spells or permission from the gods to gain entry. Hades¡¯ realm could be reached by anyone, even by accident. (Especially by accident.) It was a dark and gloomy place. But Hades liked it that way. It was the land of eternal rest, after all. A blazing sun would be counterproductive. He was trying to lay the dead to rest, not invigorate them. It wasn''t easy being the lord of the underworld. Everyone thought they could do the job better or dismissed him as mindless evil. He was a villain and he had his faults. But he wasn''t a total asshole. Hades looked into his scrying pool to see what Francis was up to. (But he had learned his lesson, so he wore full armor and a welding mask.) ¡°What!¡± He shouted as he saw Francis with one of his favorite Death Clerics. He tried to influence Willow but the System shut him down. She wasn''t his anymore. He pulled up Francis¡¯ stats and swore. The mortal was already on the path to ascension and Willow was his High Priestess. His patron would be getting a huge boost from that. A boost that should have been his! Hades decided to trim this loose thread with extreme prejudice. He couldn''t kill Francis himself because a mortal on the path to ascension had certain protections. But he could send a champion to do it for him. Francis was in the Kingdom of Grumble. Hades had a few assets close by. He continued to watch through the pool for a few more minutes, trying to glean any idea of the mortal¡¯s plans. *** Francis looked up at the sky and narrowed his eyes. He reached for his staff. ¡°What is it?¡± Willow asked. ¡°Goth boy was back. But now he''s gone.¡± The big Marine relaxed and turned his attention to Sir Auldric. ¡°What was that about a reward for saving your ass?¡± ¡°I don''t remember saying anything about a reward.¡± Sir Auldric frowned. ¡°And what was that about a ¡®goth boy¡¯?¡± Francis sized up the knight instead of answering. His newly leveled up language skill was allowing him to start distinguishing between Vahnissian accents. Auldric was probably some kind of posh noble judging from the way he spoke. His nice horse, shiny armor, pale skin, and blond beard fit right in with that assumption. ¡°Don''t change the subject, Sir Fancy pants. What was the bounty on the troll I killed when I got here?¡± Francis asked. ¡°How much did the Adventure Guild pay you out?¡± ¡°I don''t know. They pay their gold to my liege.¡± Auldric tried to navigate back to what happened in the beer garden. ¡°You say these two men insulted your paramour?¡± Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ¡°They called Willow a goat, and she''s my High Priestess, not my date.¡± The Marine put a protective arm around Willow. She leaned in close and gave Auldric a look as if daring him to say anything. ¡°Ah, a matter of honor.¡± Sir Auldric nodded. ¡°What''s that about a High Priestess?¡± ¡°What about it?¡± Francis asked. ¡°Well,¡± Sir Auldric laughed. ¡°I''m not sure how they do things in your homeland of Texis. But a High Priestess is usually the one who leads a god¡¯s followers. I believe the word you want is ¡®cleric¡¯. Unless of course you are a god.¡± ¡°Hold that thought. Our peeping tom is back.¡± Francis pointed at the sky with his staff and focused on hitting the pale fucker with the black robe from earlier. A pulse of magic lit up the sky like a spotlight. Willow and Auldric bolted for cover. Hades'' voice echoed down from the heavens and thunder echoed as the sky filled with dark clouds. ¡°WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?¡± A black bolt of energy shot down from the sky and Francis took the full brunt of it. It auto succeeded and hit him for 1000 points of Magical Damage. He shrugged it off. ¡°I can do this all day, goth boy!¡± Francis shook his fist. ¡°Don''t make me walk up there and curb stomp your pale little ass! You look like Pete Davidson fucked a corpse!¡± ¡°FUCK YOU, FRANCIS!¡± Hades shouted. Thunder echoed across the heavens as Francis and Hades exchanged insults and blows. Eventually the dark clouds departed and Francis was left standing in a smoking crater. He reclaimed his tankard of beer and drained it dry. Sir Auldric turned to Willow. ¡°So, High Priestess. Tell me more about this religion of yours.¡± *** Sir Auldric never really had much use for religion. He saw the gods as an ¡°in case of emergency, join hands¡± kind of thing. He didn''t think it was a coincidence Francis had arrived to answer their prayers when the other gods said no. He considered the facts before him. Francis fell like a star from the sky and destroyed the troll plaguing their lands. Francis had exchanged insults and blows with a god that could only be Hades, and lived. What more proof of divinity could he need? ¡°So Francis is the god of monogamy?¡± Auldric asked. The beer garden had turned into an impromptu temple to their foul mouthed deity. It was packed with drunken converts. ¡°Monogamy, fidelity, loyalty, and horses.¡± Willow corrected, taking a pull from her tankard. ¡°I can understand the other three. But why horses?¡± Auldric asked. He was taking it slow on the beer. But he was still getting a little bit buzzed. Willow shrugged. ¡°Francis isn''t like other gods. He likes horses, they like him. So why not be a god about it? Besides, horses are cool.¡± ¡°Ah, I''m beginning to get a feel for how he operates.¡± Auldric liked Francis, even if he was a bit rough around the edges. He could serve a god like that. Perhaps he would even become a paladin like his mother always wanted. ¡°Lord Kelvin returns later tonight. He will want to meet with Francis in the morning. Do you think you can keep our new deity out of trouble until then?¡± Willow looked over at Francis. He was in the process of drinking a group of knights under the table. She liked the way his arm muscles flexed as he lifted the tankard to his lips. ¡°Oh, I think I can find a way to keep him occupied.¡± She said. Chapter 16: Only One Bed A few hours later Willow told Francis it was time for bed. The Marine was pleasantly buzzed, but more than a little tired after duking it out with Hades. He gave the High Priestess a thumbs up and followed her to the room. It had a decent sized bed with nightstands on either side of it. In the corner was a writing desk facing the window. The blue wooden shutters had been pulled shut and latched. A crystal on a chain hanging from the ceiling illuminated the room with a soft orange glow. It reminded Francis of firelight. He tossed his Bag Of Hoarding on the nightstand. Then Francis propped up Relativity in the corner and hung his hat from it. He felt weird about the staff watching him sleep. He turned around to see Willow arranging her things on the nightstand next to the bed. ¡°Oh! Shit. I didn''t realize this was your room.¡± ¡°They just had one available, so I figured we would share. Besides, I feel safer sharing a room than being alone.¡± Willow proceeded to remove her jewelry. ¡°I hope you don''t mind.¡± ¡°That''s fine.¡± Francis said as he looked around for an empty spot on the floor to lay down. She could take the bed. He would figure something else out. Willow set a pair of black daggers on the nightstand and pulled her black robes over her head before Francis could look away. Her skin was creamy white along her front, with what might have been shimmering black and green scales along her back. He couldn''t be sure, but he thought he caught a glimpse of a whip thin black tail with a barb on the end. Before he could get a better look, it vanished. She turned around, revealing a series of tattoos along the sides of her stomach and the insides of her arms. They were made up of screaming skulls and swirling black fire. Peeking out from her black lace underwear was a stylized tattoo of curling rams horns made of interlocking runes. The Death Cleric toyed with her piercings, distracting Francis from the knife attached to her left thigh. She did a little twirl. ¡°Do you like what you see?¡± ¡°Yes Ma¡¯am!¡± Francis replied enthusiastically and without hesitation. (Apparently he was from that part of Texas, after all.) An hour or so later a very happy Francis realized something. He looked at the shuttered bedroom window and frowned. It was still light out. He looked down at the Death Cleric wrapped around him. ¡°There are plenty of other rooms, aren''t there?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Willow replied. ¡°But I meant what I said about not liking being alone. I feel safer staying with you. I know nobody is going to try to come visit me in the middle of the night with you here.¡± She tapped the blade attached to her hip. ¡°I can take care of myself. But I''d rather be able to relax.¡± ¡°I suppose that''s alright then.¡± Francis stroked her back and enjoyed the moment of peace. The scales would take some getting used to. At least the whole front half of her was normal enough. Willow looked up at him and smiled, her green eyes sparkling in the dim light. ¡°Want to go again?¡± *** Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. The next morning when Francis woke up he had a message from System.
Willow Wisp wishes to form a romantic bond (you lucky bastard). This bond may be broken if you mistreat her or she wishes to leave. Do you accept YES/NO?
Francis accepted and a tattoo began to wrap itself around his left wrist. It had a pattern of skulls, flames, and rams horns guarding a black heart. ¡°That''s pretty fucking metal.¡± He said. The Death Cleric leaned back as black ink etched itself along her collarbone. It had a heart in the center protected by wings made of bullets and roses. ¡°It is, isn''t it?¡± She asked. ¡°So what did we just do? Is it like getting married?¡± Francis asked. That was moving a bit quickly for him. ¡°No, it''s one of the steps to getting married, but doesn''t always lead there. It''s more like announcing your intention to pursue a relationship. Don''t get me wrong, you''re a good guy and amazing in the sack. But I''m not ready to get married again, just yet.¡± Willow playfully bit him on the arm. ¡°Me neither.¡± Francis looked at his new tattoo. ¡°What should I say if people notice? Or ask what our relationship is?¡± ¡°I''m going to tell people I''m bonded to you, and if they want more details than that, they can fuck off. My love life is none of their business.¡± She straddled Francis. ¡°But make no mistake. You''re mine now, god of monogamy.¡± ¡°Yes Ma''am!¡± Francis agreed, wondering what the hell he did to get so lucky. *** As they were getting ready to leave Willow showed Francis how to use magic to clean himself and his clothes. The dirt sloughed off of him and formed a greasy ball, which she then incinerated. His first thought was how handy that skill would have been when he was cleaning his rifle or shotgun. It even seemed to pull the dirt from his pores and remove dead skin. ¡°That is insane!¡± Francis said as he ran around the room cleaning things like a roomba. All he had to do was set the target and he could clean anything instantly for 10 MP per square meter. ¡°I''m glad you''re having fun. Just be careful not to overdo it or you''ll remove all your skin¡¯s natural oils.¡± Willow laughed. It was amazing. Francis could fight with a god without blinking, but a simple cleaning spell made him giddy. Once he was done getting distracted, Francis decided it was time to tell her his story. He explained what he did on Earth, and how he got here. From Willow¡¯s reaction it was a fairly common occurrence. Apparently there were multiple dimensions feeding champions into this one. Willow gave him the fuzzy puppet version of her many centuries long existence. She had always been a faun. When she died and came back she kept her XP. Generally she bounced around from death cult to death cult, occasionally got guilted into adventuring, and that was about it. (It wasn''t, obviously. But a five hundred year old Death Cleric was expected to have a few skeletons in her past.) Eventually they went to check on Chuck. The horse was perfectly happy with his accommodations. He told them he had gone out for a walk to stretch his legs around sunrise then returned to the stable. They fed him a few sweet pastries and fresh vegetables from the market. ¡°Oh, you two are the best. But don''t give me too much. I can''t help eating it, even though I know it''s not good for me.¡± Chuck gave them the side eye (which was his default, because he was a horse). ¡°So, you two are standing awfully close together and I spot some new tattoos.¡± ¡°Yeah, we''re romantically bonded.¡± Francis replied. ¡°Called it!¡± Shouted another horse from a few stalls over. ¡°Where''s my money?¡± ¡°We didn''t agree on a bet, McHorseface!¡± Chuck shouted back. ¡°Sorry, Horsey gets a bit loud but he means well. His first owner was a portal jumper too.¡± Francis put two and two together. ¡°His first name is Horsey?¡± He asked, trying desperately not to laugh. It was rude to laugh. ¡°Yeah, why?¡± Chuck looked over at Willow for an explanation. ¡°What''s so funny about being named Horsey McHorseface?¡± Chapter 17: Lord Kelvin Sir Auldric''s cousin was, to put it frankly, kind of a tosser. He was also greedy, lazy, and stupid. Unfortunately, that cousin was Lord Kelvin of Riverlark. He watched in disgust as a servant wiped the remains of breakfast off his cousin''s chins. The lord let out a snort like a hog. ¡°So, he thinks he''s a god, does he?¡± ¡°Yes, and so do I.¡± Auldric said. In fact, he was considering leaving Lord Kelvin and becoming a paladin. He wasn''t sure if his mother would be happy or disappointed with the change. The answer was both, as parents could exist in two states simultaneously. (Only by attending dinner and collapsing the waveform could one know for sure. Johnathan Khan had recently been awarded the Nobel prize for his work on quantum parental disappointment. But unfortunately, not the one for medicine.) ¡°Oh cousin, you are such a rube.¡± Lord Kelvin laughed. ¡°Some wizard does a few parlor tricks and you''re ready to believe anything he says. I''ll be the judge of this man¡¯s so-called ¡®godhood¡¯. To think, he even had the audacity to suggest we pay him the bounty.¡± ¡°He did kill a troll in one blow.¡± Auldric pointed out. ¡°So he says. That was probably just another trick. No doubt he and the monster were working together.¡± The lord drank down his second goblet of morning wine. A commotion at the front doors announced Francis¡¯ presence. There was a sound like metal sheets being beaten together, then silence. Two minutes later a knight in very dented plate armor limped into the room. He pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to stop the bleeding. ¡°I present Francis Francis Francis, the god of monogamy, fidelity, loyalty, and horses. He is accompanied by his High Priestess, Willow Wisp.¡± ¡°Thanks.¡± Francis said as he walked into the dining room. ¡°So, Lord Kelvin. About that troll I killed. When can I expect payment?¡± Lord Kelvin looked at the two meter tall wizard and sneered. He decided Francis was of giant or ork heritage, and therefore unsuited to magic. The gaudy staff was another indication of Francis¡¯ obvious lack of training. No doubt the half-blood brute had picked it because of the brightly colored ribbons. ¡°My idiotic cousin may have fallen for your tricks, but I see through them. You? The god of monogamy? What a joke.¡± Lord Kelvin said. Willow and Auldric looked to see how Francis would react. The big Marine frowned. ¡°Say again?¡± ¡°I was just saying that I see through your tricks-¡± ¡°What now?¡± Francis interrupted, walking up to the sneering lord. ¡°If we''re talking about cereal I could go for some Reese''s peanut butter puffs. If you were talking shit I''d suggest you call for the waiter and order a nice big warm bowl of shut the fuck up.¡± ¡°I say!¡± Lord Kelvin sputtered. ¡°Auldric, are you going to let him talk to me like this?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Auldric sat back in his chair. He was enjoying this. He knew Francis wouldn''t kill his cousin¡­ probably. ¡°You''re one of my knights. It''s your job to protect me!¡± Lord Kelvin tried to shift in his chair to get away from Francis. The big Marine sat down on the edge of the table. ¡°If you''re what passes for a lord around here, this kingdom is fucked. Now, how much did the AG pay you for killing that troll?¡± This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. ¡°Fifty gold pieces!¡± Lord Kelvin shouted, sweat pouring off his forehead. He wasn''t accustomed to dealing with ruffians. ¡°But you can''t have them!¡± Francis looked over to Auldric. ¡°How does an even split sound? One share for the lord, one share for me, and one share each for those who fought the troll. Double shares to the families of those who died. That sounds about fair to me.¡± ¡°I agree. What do you think, cousin?¡± Auldric asked. ¡°Fine.¡± Lord Kelvin caved. ¡°But King Laurence will hear of this.¡± ¡°And why should he care?¡± Francis asked. ¡°I just asked you to pay what was due and you agreed. I helped you out, you helped me out. That''s what neighbors do.¡± ¡°Neighbors?¡± Lord Kelvin¡¯s forehead scrunched up. There was only one city close by. Surely he couldn''t mean¡­. The Marine smiled. ¡°Yes, neighbors. I moved into a lovely little place called Brexis when the previous owner no longer had a use for it.¡± Willow walked over and leaned in towards Lord Kelvin from the other side of the chair. They had him surrounded now. ¡°Zed the Undead got drunk and passed away. Francis, what would you say he tasted like?¡± ¡°Pickle juice.¡± Francis smiled as he remembered how they met. ¡°Y''all got any more of them liches around here? I have some ideas for drinks, but I''m short on ingredients.¡± ¡°You drank a lich?¡± Auldric asked. ¡°I was thirsty.¡± Francis shrugged. ¡°Dumb fuck stuck his soul in a jar labeled pickles, I wanted pickles.¡± ¡°That reminds me. We are going to need some help restoring the city.¡± Willow said. ¡°We will require stone masons, carpenters, and raw materials. Some of the faithful will be able to help, but we need professionals.¡± ¡°Fair point.¡± Francis nodded. ¡°Auldric, can you organize that and I''ll bankroll it?¡± ¡°Of course, my lord.¡± Auldric replied, ticking the box and making things official.
Congratulations! You have gained a new follower. Auldric Sulfa the Knight (4) has chosen you as their new god. They have claimed the vacant position of: First Paladin.
Francis blinked away the sudden pain in his head from the message. ¡°Welcome to the family.¡± He said. ¡°Why don''t you and Willow put your heads together about Brexis once we''re done here? I usually wreck cities, not fix ¡®em.¡± ¡°Happily.¡± Auldric looked over at his cousin. ¡°I''m looking forward to the day your heart finally gives out and Lady Kelvin takes over. You''re a piece of shit and a waste of space.¡± Francis let out a slow clap. ¡°I''m happy to see you found your balls, Auldric. Just promise me if I ever turn into a piece of shit or a waste of space you''ll tell me.¡± The knight considered this. He liked the idea of serving a lord he could be honest with. ¡°I solemnly swear, on my honor as a paladin, to tell you when you are being a fuck up.¡± A light suffused Sir Auldric and he seemed to grow visibly stronger. ¡°Oh wonderful. It seems I''ve gained a level and finally gotten my subclass.¡± The newly minted Paladin: Enlightened Truth(5) said. Auldric frowned. ¡°Ah, it seems that while I could lie, I find the prospect most unpalatable.¡± He looked over at his cousin again. ¡°You are a terrible lord. But I was lying when I said I wished you harm. I would prefer it much more if you were to take better care of yourself instead of falling into excess.¡± He sighed happily. ¡°It truly feels like a weight has been lifted. I think I will quite enjoy being a paladin.¡± Francis wasn''t sure what was going on, but he decided to roll with it. He gave Auldric a thumbs up. But before he could congratulate the paladin, something caught his attention. ¡°Hey guys.¡± He pointed out the window towards a gigantic monster far off in the distance. ¡°If the AG paid out fifty gold for a troll, what do you think they''ll give us for that Godzilla looking motherfucker?¡± Chapter 18: A Titanic Problem It turned out the bounty on a Chthonic Titan of Devastation was two thousand gold. As Francis looked at the skyscraper sized bipedal monster, he couldn''t help but think the AG was holding out on him. That was one big fucking lizard. Willow told him it was one of Hades'' champions. Evidently the god had decided to skip several steps in the villain¡¯s handbook and go right to the big guns. Francis could respect cutting to the point, instead of fucking around. After all, hadn''t the Buddha said to ¡°always initiate contact with your heaviest weapon¡±? (No.) Francis was many things. But he wasn''t actually stupid, even if he pretended to be when there were officers around. He turned to his team. ¡°So what''s the SOP for killing Barney Verde over there? I don''t think he wants to be friends.¡± ¡°It''s got thick natural armor so its Deflect will be at least twenty.¡± Willow said, doing her best to explain how large monster combat worked. ¡°Eyes and other weak spots will be half as protected. Insides are always zero. If your attack rating is five or more below its deflect you''ll automatically miss. Five or above auto crits and multiplies damage by your Tier.¡± He took this information in. ¡°So, go for the weak spots. Can I hamstring the fucker?¡± ¡°Crippling a limb requires a quarter of its HP worth of damage. Sometimes, if a creature sustains an injury incompatible with life, System will let you kill it that way.¡± She scratched her horns and did some math. ¡°The guild usually pays around a gold per every ten HP. So that tells me this thing probably has about twenty thousand health, give or take.¡± ¡°Gotcha.¡± Francis bent down and gave her a peck on the forehead. ¡°I''ll be right back. Imma one shot this son of a bitch.¡± The Marine began walking away from the castle towards the beast. Francis could also do math, even if he pretended otherwise. A magic blast from inside the Titan would be an automatic critical hit. He was Tier 7, so if he could do 3000 magical damage it would be increased to 21000 from the crit. Now all he needed was to get inside the thing without dying. He twirled his staff and used one of the new spells Relativity had taught him. He was instantly teleported one meter down the road for a cost of 10 MP. The spell was a little expensive for his tastes. At that rate it would cost him around 1000 MP to get on top of the monster. He needed to start from higher up in case his first shot missed or something. He also needed to find a place that was outside the city to limit collateral damage. Francis decided to head towards the old wizarding tower in the Dark Forest. If he was lucky the trees might even slow down the creature and give him some cover. ¡°Need a ride?¡± Called Chuck as he trotted over to join Francis. For some reason a sparkling white horn had sprouted from top of his head. ¡°I just finished my evolution when I got an alert that you wanted to go back to the old wizarding tower.¡± ¡°Yeah, think you can outrun our friend?¡± Francis decided to ignore the horn for now (even though he was really excited at the idea of finally having his own Pokemon) and pointed at the Titan off in the distance. It would need to turn away from the city to follow him. And Francis had the sneaking suspicion he was its real target anyway. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. ¡°Oh, Francis.¡± Chuck laughed. ¡°I''m a level ten Magical Charger now. I can outrun anything.¡± *** There were fast horses. There were really fast horses. Then there was Chuck. He flew along the ground like a missile. Yesterday, after downing his bucket of beer, Chuck had gotten a bright idea. He asked around the stable about any horse thieves in the area. Then he went hunting. Eventually he leveled up to ten and reached Tier 3. Each new Tier came with an adaptation. He already had improved durability and the ability to do magic from his previous Tiers. This time Chuck decided to lean heavily into speed. It took a few minutes before Francis realized Chuck¡¯s hooves weren''t touching the ground anymore. Instead the Magical Charger was levitating above it and leaving clouds of sparkling rainbow colored exhaust in his wake. (It smelled like fresh hay and sugar cookies.) Unfortunately the Titan was still gaining on them. ¡°You got anything extra in the tank?¡± Francis shouted. ¡°Oh, I''m sure I have something.¡± Chuck went silent as if he was reading over his new skills. ¡°I wonder what this one does?¡± Chuck''s Afterburner ability activated. At first there was the sound of carousel music being played faster and faster until it became a chaotic roar. Then a three meter long blast of Technicolor magic shot out of Chuck''s ass and he rapidly began to accelerate. Francis was almost thrown from the saddle but he managed to hold on. The ground blurred beneath him. Eventually Chuck hit one hundred kilometers per hour and leveled out. His horn sparkled, forming some kind of prismatic shield that kept the wind from tearing Francis off his back. ¡°Holy fuckballs.¡± Francis looked back and saw the world''s happiest chemtrail. ¡°You weren''t joking.¡± *** The old stone tower was exactly one hundred meters tall and fifteen meters in diameter, the bare minimum for a single mage structure. The wizard who built it hadn''t believed in putting forth unnecessary effort, and it showed. With the Chthonic Titan hot on his tail, Francis teleported off Chuck and learned an important lesson. Teleportation didn''t conserve momentum. He landed on the ground at a dead stop and sprinted into the tower. The Titan maxed out at three hundred kilometers per hour on open ground. The trees had slowed it down, but only just enough. Contrary to Chuck''s boast, he wasn''t actually faster. Francis took the stone steps three at a time. He could feel the ground shaking beneath him. He caught sight of the reptile through the window. It was almost to the tower. He continued to haul ass up the stairs. As he reached the top there was an ear shattering roar and everything went dark. A moment later the emergency lighting kicked on. Small glowing crystals outlined each step, making Francis feel like he was standing on a staircase made of stars. Why was it dark? He tried to look out a window. There was nothing to see but blackness. However, an ominous glow was coming from the door at the top of the staircase. The creature was trying to burn through the roof. Only the tower''s aging wards were stopping it from cooking him where he stood. Francis teleported fifty meters straight upward. The magical backlash of trying to teleport out of a warded structure hit him for 500 magical damage and the spell failed. ¡°Fuck!¡± He couldn''t run, he couldn''t teleport away, and the glow from above was getting more intense as the wards failed. But why was it dark? Francis thrust Relativity through the window and felt it hit soft flesh. He hoped the wizard who built the tower had been forward thinking enough to make the defensive wards one way. ¡°Tag, motherfucker.¡± Francis said as he pumped three thousand MP into his attack. ¡°You''re dead.¡± Chapter 19: Cassi Stompy the Chthonic Titan of Devastation was having a great time chasing Francis. His rainbow horse was cool too. Hades had promised Stompy all the fish he could eat if he killed the human. Stompy liked Hades and would do anything for him. (Especially if there were treats involved.) When Francis decided to play hide and seek, Stompy had been overjoyed. He loved that game, though he was fuzzy on the rules. He always mixed it up with tag. ¡°I found you!¡± Stompy roared as he put his mouth over the top of the building and sent a Thermal Lance through the roof of the tower. He got a bonus to damage if he was touching something while he burned it. Then there was a sharp pain in the roof of Stompy¡¯s mouth as the automatic crit hit him for almost 21,000 Magical Damage. It should have killed him, and it did. But Stompy had a neat ability that let him come back with 1 HP in return for taking a boatload of stress. He wouldn''t be able to use it again until he was fully healed and rested. Stompy backed away from the tower, barely breathing. His mouth was full of fire, and not the good kind. ¡°Time out!¡± He roared. ¡°I don''t want to play anymore!¡±
Congratulations! You have defeated Stompy, the Chthonic Titan of Devastation. Collect your reward from the local Adventure Guild. Divine Ascension has reached 5%! New Divine Perks Unlocked! Titan Bane: Words of your heroic deeds have spread far and wide. Even the mighty Titans know to fear you. Cult Following: Word of your new religion has spread. You may begin gaining new followers without having to recruit them.
Francis watched Stompy run away from him as fast as it could. The thudding of the Titan¡¯s footsteps grew fainter by the minute. ¡°Good riddance.¡± Said a soft voice from behind Francis. ¡°I thought for sure it would break through.¡± If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Francis turned slowly to see a mocha skinned wizard in powder blue robes. He was holding a giant mug of hot chocolate, complete with marshmallows. The wizard stuck out his hand. ¡°Hi, I''m Cassius Theobroma. But you can call me Cassi.¡± He shook the wizard¡¯s hand. ¡°A pleasure to meet you, Cassi. I''m Francis Francis Francis the third. People call me Francis. Is this your tower?¡± Cassi nodded happily, his salt and pepper curls bouncing merrily. ¡°Oh yes. It''s lovely, isn''t it? I just purchased it yesterday.¡± ¡°Did you now?¡± Francis considered this information. ¡°Who from?¡± ¡°Well, I have had my eye on it for a while. But that troublesome lich was a deal breaker. When I heard the area was lich free, I snatched it up on Tower Swap.¡± He patted the stone lovingly. ¡°To think, entering the housing market at my age. Some of my contemporaries don''t like prefabricated towers. But I think they are a fantastic bargain.¡± ¡°Yeah, I grew up in a double-wide and people always gave me shit for it.¡± Francis didn''t understand house snobbery and Cassi seemed cool. ¡°Actually we''re neighbors. I just took over Brexis. The High Priestess and I are going to start fixing it up soon. You should come over sometime.¡± ¡°I''d like that.¡± Cassi smiled. ¡°I can see from your robes you are a fellow practitioner of the arcane arts. May I ask about your specialty?¡± ¡°Uh, mostly I blast shit. Technically I''m a warlock sorcerer mix.¡± Francis didn''t see the point in lying. He wasn''t sure if the different kinds of casters got along. But he figured he was about to find out. ¡°The robes belonged to the lich I drank.¡± ¡°BWAHAHA!¡± Cassi laughed until tears streamed down his face. ¡°You drank Zed the Undead¡¯s soul jar? That is amazing!¡± ¡°Yeah, it was kind of an accident.¡± Francis admitted. ¡°You see, he had labeled it as pickles. And I really like pickles.¡± When Cassi was done laughing he led Francis downstairs to the kitchen and handed him a mug of hot chocolate. ¡°Cheers.¡± He said as they clinked mugs together. ¡°To new neighbors.¡± ¡°To new friends.¡± Francis replied. ¡°So, what''s your magical specialty?¡± ¡°I am a confectionary wizard.¡± Cassi explained. ¡°I can do pretty much anything involving sugar. But chocolate is my passion. That''s why I changed my last name to Theobroma. Plus, I hated my old one.¡± He shuddered at the memory. Francis considered the implications of a chocolate wizard. ¡°Is racism a thing here?¡± He asked. ¡°I¡¯m a portal jumper and I just arrived a day ago. Willow explained the whole heritage thing to me. Back where I come from, some people are assholes about dumb shit like skin tone. Is it the same here?¡± ¡°Unfortunately.¡± Cassi replied. ¡°It¡¯s hard being a chocolate wizard sometimes. But things are getting better, little by little.¡± ¡°Here¡¯s to things getting better.¡± Francis raised his mug and took a sip. ¡°Say, Cassi. I need to go back into town and finish my meeting with the local lord. Besides, I need to tell Willow I''m not hurt. Did you want to tag along with?¡± ¡°I''d be delighted to.¡± Cassi said. ¡°It''s so nice to get a warm welcome, right out the gate.¡± ¡°Well, Lord Kelvin is a piece of shit. So he''ll probably say something stupid.¡± Francis warned. Then an idea came to him. ¡°How much do you charge for assortments? And do you have any of those red heart shaped boxes?¡± Chapter 20: Drafting Miller ¡°I can''t believe you defeated a Titan and came back with chocolate!¡± Willow wrapped her arms around Francis and gave him a hug. ¡°Believe me, I''ll give you a hero¡¯s welcome later. Once we''re alone.¡± She whispered in his ear. ¡°Hot damn!¡± Francis grinned. Lord Kelvin looked up from his half devoured double deluxe assortment of chocolates. ¡°You may be of some limited use.¡± He admitted. ¡°Glad to hear you''ve come around.¡± The Marine laughed. Down in the city below people were celebrating. But not everyone was happy. Sir Auldric had returned with a somber expression. ¡°Several farms in the Titan¡¯s path were destroyed. With winter coming they won''t be able to pay their fall tithes or complete their harvests.¡± ¡°Lord Kelvin, are you going to step up and do the right thing?¡± Francis asked, making clear that the only acceptable answer was yes. ¡°Oh whatever. Exempt them from the fall tithes.¡± He waved dismissively. ¡°Winter too. But come spring I expect a return on my investment.¡± ¡°Well done.¡± Francis said, giving the lord a nod of approval. ¡°Auldric, get with Willow and figure out the best way to help out. Come to me with a budget. When a twister touches down, it isn''t the farmer¡¯s fault.¡± ¡°Well, Francis.¡± Chuck clopped his hoof in the cobblestones. ¡°As your treasurer I suggest a percentage of all future bounties and windfalls be set aside as a disaster relief fund. Twenty percent, at least.¡± The Magical Charger: Fast Money (15) said. Taking all the XP from the defeated Titan had been very good for Chuck. He tossed his magnificent rainbow mane back and forth. ¡°I would also suggest offering to purchase some of the stricken farms. The current occupants might wish to move on, after what happened.¡± ¡°Good thinking!¡± Francis loved being surrounded by competent people. There was just one thing that needed taking care of. ¡°Lord Kelvin, I would like to inform you that Chuck S. Horse is a citizen of Brexis. He is considered a person and enjoys all rights. Is that cool with you, or are we going to fight about it?¡± ¡°Look, Francis.¡± Lord Kelvin raised his hands. ¡°I don''t give a shit who is considered a person, as long as they follow the law and pay their taxes.¡± Chuck and Francis shared a look. That was a very interesting piece of information. ¡°Chuck, are you thinking what I''m thinking?¡± ¡°Oh, Francis. I believe I am.¡± The horse nodded enthusiastically. *** After paying off Chuck and making sure the stallion had proof, Francis slipped away to grab a beer. He needed a moment alone to collect his thoughts or at least blow off steam. Going from a grunt to a god in less than seventy-two hours was giving him emotional whiplash. He walked through the city until he found the local equivalent of a dive bar. He waded through the smoke and ordered a beer. No less than ten seconds later, a sword for hire came over and tried to shake him down. ¡°I could use a drink, fancy lad.¡± Francis examined the dirty sellsword. ¡°Do you have a bounty on your head?¡± He asked. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. ¡°Maybe. Who wants to know?¡± The filthy man looked around for signs of an ambush. ¡°My name is Francis.¡± He tapped Relativity on the hard packed dirt floor before turning to face the bartender. ¡°Do you mind if I slap this asshole around? Or do they frown on that kind of thing here?¡± The old grizzled bartender shrugged. ¡°We charge a silver for body removal if they''re still breathing, five if they aren''t.¡± ¡°Fair enough.¡± Francis turned back to the sellsword. He had a few questions. ¡°So, explain something to me. I''m two heads taller than you and I''ve got a nasty piece of wood in my hands. What made you think it was a good idea to try and shake me down?¡± ¡°Well, wizards can''t fight in close quarters. Show ¡®em cold steel and they run away.¡± The sellsword frowned as reality set in. Francis was awfully broad across the shoulders for a mage. ¡°Oh, shit.¡± ¡°Thank you for answering my question.¡± Francis backhanded the sellsword into unconsciousness and flipped the bartender a gold. ¡°Open a tab for me, will ya?¡± ¡°Sure, why not?¡± The bartender tucked the gold away for safekeeping and made a gesture to the orkish bouncer. A minute later the sellsword was gone, probably tossed in a back alley somewhere. Francis took a sip from his wooden tankard of beer. ¡°This is a pretty good fucking brew.¡± The bartender waved at the rack full of wooden barrels. ¡°Say what you will about Grumble, at least they make good beer here.¡± ¡°Yeah, I suppose they do.¡± Francis looked around the rundown pub. The building and roof seemed sturdy. But the chairs and tables had been mended with whatever wood was cheap. The bar itself was made of thick planks and could serve as a barricade in a pinch. He spotted a familiar graybeard drowning his sorrows in the back corner. ¡°Bring Miller another of whatever he''s drinking, on me.¡± ¡°Sure.¡± The bartender pulled a half liter of dark beer and set it down next to the old veteran. Francis raised his mug in salute to show he was the one responsible. He didn''t know how good Miller''s eyes were and the wizard outfit made Francis hard to recognize. But he figured the graybeard would come see who was buying the drinks. Miller walked over and sat down next to Francis at the bar. He wasn''t drunk, but he wasn''t sober either. ¡°Oh, you''re back.¡± He said in Grunt. ¡°Yeah. They cut you loose when I disappeared?¡± Francis asked. ¡°Yep.¡± Miller took a sip from his tankard. ¡°I''m heading to the capital to look for work tomorrow.¡± ¡°Shame.¡± Francis waited until the bartender was out of earshot. ¡°What were they paying you?¡± ¡°About a gold a month. Enough for a beer or two, but not much else.¡± Francis did some math, which he hated. A gold per month was enough for three meals per day and four beers. Subsistence wages if they paid for housing too. ¡°You got a bank account?¡± ¡°Yeah. I ain''t letting those youngins in the barracks steal my shit.¡± Miller winced and rubbed his ribs. ¡°One of them gave me a kick goodbye.¡± That sounded about right. ¡°He got a name?¡± Miller shook his head. ¡°Not anymore. That''s why I''m heading out soon.¡± ¡°Fair enough.¡± Francis considered his options. He liked Miller and graybeards were always good to keep on the payroll. ¡°You ever consider going into business for yourself?¡± ¡°Once or twice.¡± Miller narrowed his gray eyes at Francis. ¡°What are you thinking?¡± ¡°Maybe, with the right backing, you could start your own security company. Recruit and train up some young pipe hitters that aren''t too rotten yet. Pay them well, do low and medium risk work, keep your honor clean. You think you could manage that?¡± It was a risk. Miller might take the seed money and run. But Francis could use a friend in the capital, and people working private security heard all kinds of interesting things. ¡°Could do. Take a bit o¡¯ coin to get up and running.¡± Miller mulled it over in his head. ¡°What you want out of this?¡± ¡°Information, whatever is worth hearing.¡± ¡°Smart man.¡± Miller finished his beer and stood up. His slight drunken wobble had completely vanished. ¡°Take a walk with me.¡± Chapter 21: Brain Weasels Over the next hour, Miller got caught up on Francis¡¯ recent exploits and a plan was hashed out. A hundred gold would be enough seed money to get Graybeard Solutions up and running. But not enough for Francis to hunt him down like a dog if things went sideways. Miller decided to head out immediately, before anyone got the bright idea to see what he was up to. Once he got situated he would start recruiting and looking for work. Anything interesting that came up would be passed along to Francis via Guild Secure Messaging. (Better known as GSM.) It was interesting to Francis how the Adventure Guild had managed to establish a monopoly on so many important services. They had locations in every major city with bank kiosks where people could draw or deposit funds. They did loans and horse trading. Now he was finding out they were handling communications too. Technically they were all separate companies. But non-AG affiliated banks or messenger services were rare. They even handled the sale of magical objects and alchemical components. It was like Western Union, eBay and Blackwater (or whatever they were calling themselves this week) had a baby. He had zero doubts they would also have their finger in the illegitimate side of things as well. It was the only thing that made sense. Banks back home did it all the time. It wasn''t surprising to him that he didn''t get an alert. Miller didn''t seem to have much use for religion. Which brought Francis back to the original existential crisis he had been trying to avoid. A few days ago he had been a grunt. Now he was a god. It felt unnatural, like when someone referred to him as an officer. Yes, he was an NCO. But he was still a grunt. (And he would punch anyone in the face who said otherwise.) He was also more or less in charge, which definitely felt wrong. Sure, he tended to ignore the orders he felt were stupid. But at least then someone else was giving the orders he ignored. The Marine took a seat on one of the low stone walls. It would be dark soon and the celebrations had died down. He looked at the castle on the hill above town. Willow had insisted they stay there instead of the inn. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. He sent Chuck a mental message that he needed a ride back. That situation was a whole other can of worms. Chuck owned himself now and had the paperwork to prove it. But that was tenuous at best. Outsiders wouldn''t honor it. Hell, most humans didn''t consider orks or beastfolk to be people either. Then there was the question of what to do about the other uplifted creatures. They couldn''t buy them all. Whoever was uplifting them would create more to meet demand and make the situation worse. Chuck was very adamantly against uplifting. He didn''t want to go back. But he also wouldn''t wish it on anyone. Knowing that his mind could be taken away couldn''t be good for Chuck¡¯s mental health. That made Francis wonder about his own situation. System had increased his intelligence and given him a new language to think in. Grunt had one hundred words for kill and none for salad. But Vahnissian Common could express all kinds of concepts. Maybe that was why Francis felt like his thoughts were becoming too big for his head. Sure, he was smarter and more powerful now. But was he happier? The sound of hooves on cobblestones banished the gloom and put a smile on his face. ¡°Hey, Francis. Need a ride?¡± Chuck asked. ¡°Yeah, just give me a second.¡± Francis hadn''t gotten a chance to watch the sunset yet. He wondered if it would be like the ones he remembered from home. Chuck clopped over to share the view. Red and orange rolled across the western sky. ¡°Wow.¡± ¡°Looks different when you''re free, doesn''t it?¡± Francis asked. ¡°Oh, yeah. I''d say it does.¡± Chuck nudged Francis playfully with his head. ¡°What are you doing out here, all alone?¡± ¡°Just thinking.¡± Francis rubbed behind Chuck¡¯s ears. Somehow he felt much better. It was like a dark cloud had lifted. ¡°Well, be careful. Wandering off alone after a big bounty is dangerous. The brain weasels will swoop in and get you.¡± Francis frowned. ¡°Is that a joke? Or do they really exist?¡± ¡°Oh, I wish it was a joke. Scaly little bastards can smell triumph a kilometer away. Then they wait until you''re alone and gang up on you. That''s why you need friends around to squish any that show up.¡± He stomped his hoof for emphasis. "You can''t see them when they''re on you. My cousin won a race, went off to take a nap, and never woke up.¡± Francis wasn''t sure if he believed Chuck¡¯s theory about the brain weasels. But he decided to put it squarely in the ¡°possible¡± category. ¡°Come on, let''s go see what Willow is up to.¡± Francis patted his friend on the shoulder and climbed into the saddle. This new world and his place in it would take some getting used to. But at least he didn''t have to figure it out alone. Chapter 22: Troll Power The trio (and their newest addition McHorseface) rode out to survey the damage Stompy caused. His rampage through the Dark Forest had cleared a significant portion of the trees between Riverlark and Cassi¡¯s tower. But it also had blocked the old road into Brexis. Francis didn''t fully grasp the scale of the destruction until he looked down the kilometers long trail. Trees a hundred meters tall and five meters in diameter lay toppled on the ground or leaned precariously at odd angles. The titan had shoved the giant old growth redwoods aside like a drunk moving through a corn field. ¡°Is the forest going to throw a fit if we harvest the fallen timber?¡± Francis asked Willow as they came to a stop at the edge of the destruction. She was looking splendidly spooky as always in her embroidered black robes. Willow let her hood down and pulled a black panatella from a red wooden box in her saddle bags. The Death Cleric lit the long thin cigar with a snap of her fingers, filling the air with the scent of spiced tobacco and funerary incense. She took a few puffs while she gave the question some serious thought. The Dark Forest wasn''t one to mess with. ¡°Probably not. I say we grab what we can and set it aside to season. The forest won''t be shy about telling us to stop if it isn''t happy.¡± She dismounted from McHorseface and walked over to a fallen redwood as wide around as she was tall. ¡°Trees this big are rare and quality magical wood is expensive. They''ll be worth more if we can keep them intact. I say we let the farmers take the small stuff and focus our attention on the big ones.¡± Francis considered his options. It was going to take a lot of manpower to get the job done. Sure, they could use log rollers or whatever other methods the locals had to transport the trees. But what about magic? ¡°Willow, do you know of any spells that can help us move the wood quickly?¡± ¡°Not really. Most people hire trolls or giants when they need heavy lifting done. Some companies use golems. But lifting and transporting something this big would be beyond any mage, even you.¡± She looked off into the forest. ¡°What?¡± Francis asked, he couldn''t see anything out of the ordinary. ¡°There are trolls in the forest. If you killed a few I could reanimate them. I''d feel better knowing we had some muscle around in case someone tries to take Brexis from us.¡± The Death Cleric nodded to herself. ¡°Yeah, we can hire people to work during the day and have the undead do the heavy lifting at night.¡± Relativity thrummed in his hand. It liked this plan. But Francis wasn''t completely sold. He still felt like engaging in necromancy was a slippery slope. ¡°Don''t people get skittish about necromancy?¡± ¡°Yeah, but you would also be leaving the most dangerous work for the undead. There''s a reason most of the deep mines use zombies or skeletons for labor. Well, the dwarves don''t. But everyone else does.¡± Willow sighed. Francis could tell this was a bit of a sore subject for her. ¡°Look, there is responsible necromancy that helps people, and then there is the kind of shit Zed was doing. Most people can''t tell the difference, but they look the other way if it benefits them. We aren''t going to collapse the local economy with unpaid labor or start killing innocent people to swell our numbers.¡± Francis had a few more questions before he was ready to sign off on the plan. He hoped Willow wouldn''t be insulted by his lack of understanding. ¡°Excuse my ignorance, but the closest thing we have to raising the dead where I come from is Viagra. These undead, are they aware at all? I mean, are we preventing their souls from finding rest?¡± He spread his hands helplessly. ¡°I¡¯m not trying to insult you, or what you do. I just want to understand something before I agree to it.¡± Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. Willow walked over and patted him on the leg. ¡°It¡¯s fine to have questions, and I''m not insulted. Basically when you die your soul hangs around for a bit then departs. Zombies and skeletons are animated by magic and follow the instructions they are given. But they have no actual self awareness or soul. Let me demonstrate.¡± She looked around until she spotted a tree squirrel that had been crushed by the falling branches. The crows had already pecked out its eyes and taken what they wanted. Willow waved her hand and a wave of green energy washed over the dead animal. It stood up with a series of faint pops and snapping noises, shedding the remainder of its gray fur. Chuck took an involuntary step backwards, bringing Francis with him. The differences between the living squirrels in the other trees and the skeletal one were telling. It didn''t dart back and forth looking for predators. Instead it slowly stalked towards Willow until it came to a stop at her feet. Then it looked up at her with empty eye sockets and cocked its head to the side. ¡°It moves like a squirrel because it is squirrel shaped and I think that''s how it should move.¡± She explained. ¡°But it doesn''t have a will or spirit of its own. There''s nothing inside except the magic that powers it.¡± ¡°As a death cleric, stopping a willing soul from moving on is expressly forbidden. But I understand how people might assume all necromancy is evil.¡± With nothing else to do, the skeletal squirrel sat still on the ground, waiting for instructions. Willow smiled at the little monster. ¡°For me it is more about honoring and making use of a body after the soul departs. The soul is what matters, not the body that temporarily holds it.¡± Francis wasn''t completely sold on the idea. It seemed unnatural and dangerous. But he trusted Willow and he could follow her logic. ¡°I suppose that''s fine then.¡± Francis looked down at Chuck. He figured if Chuck had anything to say, he already would have. ¡°Where can I find some trolls?¡± Chuck stomped his hoof. ¡°Oh, I can help with that. The beneficial ones usually maintain bridges and structures in exchange for a toll. The ones we want will be on the edges of the forest. They creep out to steal livestock at night.¡± (And complain about plays.) ¡°Just leave their heads intact.¡± Willow cautioned. ¡°They''re easier to raise if you do.¡± ¡°Yeah, sure thing. Can you handle the human side of things while I go hunting?¡± Francis asked. ¡°I''ll take care of it. If you don''t come back by sunset I''ll come make sure you''re alright. But you should be fine.¡± Willow gave him a kiss for good luck. ¡°Is there some kind of spell I can use to keep in touch?¡± Francis asked. He figured if the AG could do it he could too. Relativity gave off feelings of affirmation and helpfulness. It had given him the Telepathy spell for a reason. ¡°Wait, I think I already have it.¡± Francis realized. ¡°Now how does this fucker work?¡± Most people got a pop up from System when reviewing a spell. But Francis'' stubborn resistance to integration had caused a few unforeseen consequences. He wasn''t seeing all the information other people did. His Arcane skill could give him a rundown of how Telepathy worked. But the finer details were missing. It was a bit like trying to remember the cooking instructions for a microwave dinner after throwing the box away. (Or assembling Swedish furniture without an engineering degree.) The way Francis understood things, he could either establish a link now for 1 MP per minute per person. Or he could reach out later and pay long distance charges. He linked up with Chuck and Willow and felt the strain on his mana regeneration immediately. It dropped down from 30 MP per minute to 27. Evidently he qualified as a person too. ¡°Messages can be sent either privately or to the group and you always know who is speaking.¡± Willow said in his mind. Her black lips weren''t moving. But he could see the muscles of her throat tensing and relaxing as she spoke. ¡°Neat.¡± Francis replied, trying to get a hang of speaking mentally. ¡°What is the range on this?¡± ¡°It¡¯s pretty much infinite as long as we''re on the same plane. But strong magic or wards can cause interference. So can caves and some metals like lead.¡± She gave him another kiss on the cheek and switched back to speaking normally. ¡°Let me know when you find the trolls. We need at least six. More would be better.¡± ¡°Will do.¡± Francis said. Chapter 23: Two Strangers Something bothered Francis as he rode. ¡°Hey, Chuck. Why didn''t Willow suggest we use Telepathy earlier?¡± The white stallion came to a stop and gave Francis one of his famous side eyes. ¡°Well, telepathic bonding between romantic partners is considered extremely intimate. Also, to put things tactfully, we don''t have the same expectations of immediate communication as portal jumpers.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Francis said, realizing his assumptions had bitten him in the ass. He had figured if there was a spell that worked like a cellphone, people would use it like one. Apparently not. Chuck continued trotting forward without a word. Apparently he was used to the post isekai awkwardness. There was something else Francis definitely needed to talk to another man about. Not that he didn''t trust the information Willow had given him. But he needed to make sure he properly understood it. ¡°So, birth control around here is based on magic tattoos?¡± Francis asked, feeling awkward that he was getting this information from his horse. Granted, his dad had given him the talk while sitting on the hood of a mustang outside Whataburger. So, there were some parallels. ¡°Oh, yeah. It works really well. Usually men get them too, just to be safe.¡± Chuck replied. ¡°I''d say talk to Willow about it when you get back.¡± Francis thought about a particularly painful shrapnel wound he picked up in the desert. The vehicle armor in those days was thin to non-existent. They used to roll around with Kevlar and sandbags under their feet for blast protection. ¡°There might not be a need.¡± He admitted. ¡°I''m shooting blanks like it''s a training exercise.¡± ¡°Well, I''d still get the tattoo for peace of mind. But not because I don''t trust Willow.¡± Chuck clarified. They went along in silence until they spotted a wisp of smoke rising from a cook fire. As they got closer Francis could see a man his size in full plate, a smaller man in a breastplate, and two horses with protective barding. As he approached, the man in plate donned his helmet. ¡°Howdy!¡± Francis called out. ¡°You boys know anything about trolls in these parts?¡± The man in plate armor looked at his partner. The smaller man spoke up in an oddly gruff voice that didn''t match his youthful face. ¡°Maybe. Why?¡± ¡°Well, I was hoping to kill a few.¡± Francis squinted. Something was strange about the one in the breastplate. It was like his face wasn''t quite right. ¡°What''s with the unicorn?¡± The man with the strange face asked. He had a messy red goatee and matching short cropped hair. ¡°I have no idea.¡± Francis admitted, wondering what was going on. The duo didn''t seem like they were preparing to jump him. But they were oddly tense. ¡°Chuck picked it. You would have to ask him.¡± A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. ¡°Oh, I always wanted to look pretty and stab people with my head if they pissed me off.¡± Chuck explained. ¡°I can fit about two horse thieves on it before they start sliding off.¡± The big one in plate armor looked at the smaller one again. The smaller one''s throat was tensing and relaxing as they talked via telepathic link. Francis let out a low chuckle as he spotted what was missing. He understood why they were so on edge now. ¡°Look, I''m just trying to find some trolls to kill. Can you ladies stop fucking around and tell me if you''ve seen any or not?¡± Francis asked. ¡°Because that fake old man''s voice has to be hell on your throat.¡± ¡°Hah!¡± The big one pointed to her companion and let out a musical laugh. ¡°You owe me a gold.¡± She said in flawless Grunt. ¡°Oh piss off.¡± Replied the other woman as her mustache vanished and her red hair cascaded down to her shoulders. She looked at Francis. ¡°What gave me away?¡± The Marine rubbed his face, realizing he was in desperate need of a shave. ¡°You had a messy beard, but no stubble. Also, you forgot something.¡± He tapped his Adam¡¯s apple. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I couldn''t give a fuck what you''re into. Plenty of women pretend to be men when they travel.¡± He winced as he realized his mistake. ¡°Ah shit. This is like that situation with Andi all over again.¡± ¡°Who''s Andi?¡± The redhead asked. ¡°My buddy¡¯s son. He''s a man now and it took some getting used to. Um¡­ shit. That wasn''t PC either. Fuck.¡± Francis looked at Chuck for help. ¡°Oh, right. Sorry. Francis is a portal jumper from one of the low magic worlds. He just got here.¡± Chuck laughed awkwardly. ¡°He''s still learning local customs.¡± The one in armor figured it out first. ¡°We''re women. This is just a disguise for when we travel.¡± She said in Grunt. ¡°Oh! Ok.¡± Francis decided to change the subject. ¡°So, about them trolls¡­¡± *** It turned out Julia and Shiv were there to hunt trolls as well. But for a very different reason. ¡°It is an absolute disgrace.¡± Julia said as she finally removed her helmet, revealing a massive blond ponytail with dried flowers woven into it. Somehow the woman could even make a language like Grunt seem elegant. ¡°To think, such vileness persists in the world.¡± ¡°Yes, quite a shame.¡± Shiv agreed. ¡°But that''s why they pay us.¡± ¡°Oh, but I would do this one for free.¡± Julia looked at Francis. ¡°Have you ever heard of something so horrid?¡± He was a Marine, so obviously the answer was ¡°yes¡±. But Francis still wasn''t exactly sure what the trolls had done. ¡°Break it down for me, fuzzy puppet style.¡± ¡°We are assassins and the queen herself contracted us to dispose of these foul creatures.¡± Julia ignored the looks of warning from her partner and barreled on ahead. ¡°And these trolls, might it be that they even are trolls, and not some lower form of dirt. Well, do you know what they did?¡± ¡°No.¡± Francis admitted. Her eyes flared. ¡°The bastards had the bad taste to write a scathing review of Princess Buttercup¡¯s most recent dance recital. I could bite through my shield, I''m so angry.¡± ¡°The Princess is only ten.¡± Shiv clarified. ¡°And they mailed them out across the kingdom. They called her fat and said she should kill herself.¡± ¡°Oh, fuck those guys.¡± Francis and Chuck said in unison. Man and mount looked at each other and shared a moment of violently male telepathy that had nothing to do with magic. You did not fuck with someone''s children. Ever. Chuck stomped angrily, rainbow sparks flying from his hooves. ¡°Oh, I''m going to turn their balls into horn ornaments. Where can I find them?¡± ¡°We don''t know.¡± Shiv shook her head. ¡°We''ve been hunting them for a week and even managed to kill two, but the locator spell can''t get a precise location anymore. I think they''ve gone to ground.¡± Francis considered his experiences in the desert. There were multiple ways to get someone to stick their head out. But the quickest one was to make them really angry. He grinned evilly as a plan began to form. ¡°So, where I come from there was this movie called Ghostbusters...¡± Chapter 24: Too Good to be True In a deep damp cave a dozen of the remaining trolls waited. The remains of their meals littered the ground and a toxic stench wafted up from their hiding place. It had been a pretty good run so far, until the two women in armor showed up. They couldn''t agree on who came up with the plan originally. When things were going well they all tried to take credit. But now they pointed their green fingers at one another. ¡°It was your idea!¡± Accused Zeusdad as he consumed handfuls of orange moss. ¡°Now we''re stuck here with nothing to eat but this shit.¡± ¡°Oh, fuck you. We all know it was your plan from the start.¡± Lovinmom glared at his orange moss covered cavemate. They launched at one another in a pathetic slap fight while the others watched. The plan had been so simple. All they had to do was send a few nasty letters, say where they were, and the people would come to them. No more hunting, no more starving. All that soft easy meat had been nice, while it lasted. But now they had attracted too much attention and would have to move on. ¡°Stop!¡± Hissed Sigmale, pointing at the opening to the cave. ¡°I hear something.¡± The trolls stopped their fighting and strained to listen. They heard it too. ¡°It has to be a trap.¡± Zeusdad said, still listening to the siren song from above. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Lovinmom grinned, showing jagged yellow teeth. ¡°Oh, but what if it isn''t?¡± ¡°But it is.¡± Zeusdad insisted, but his face was conflicted. He wanted it to be true so badly he could taste it. ¡°But what if it isn''t?¡± Lovinmom pressed. ¡°Come on, you heard it too. Can we really afford to pass this up?¡± Zeusdad looked at the mouth of the cave hungrily. He knew it was too good to be true. But what if it wasn''t? *** ¡°Do you really think this is going to work?¡± Shiv asked as they walked along the edge of the forest. ¡°You bet your ass it will.¡± Francis replied as he walked alongside Chuck, holding the locator spell where they both could see. ¡°Trust me, I''ve killed damn near everything from men to chupacabras.¡± At least, Francis thought it was a chupacabra. Javelins don''t leave much behind to identify and he was pretty hammered at the time. Francis missed training with Delta. Those guys had the best shit. If trolls were like most other animals they would try and stay close to a food source. He figured since their foods of choice were people and livestock they wouldn''t hole up too far past the edge of the woods. People were the same way. They didn''t like traveling further than they had to for food. ¡°Alright.¡± Shiv took a deep breath and bellowed out the words Francis had given her. Though she had to tailor them, because she wasn¡¯t sure the trolls would go for Ghostbusters. ¡°One day only! Witness the tale of Antigone live on stage! A comedic new reimagining of the classic play! With an all female cast!¡± Francis frowned. They had been at it for an hour already with no results. They needed something no troll could resist. But what? He put his hands together and called out into the woods. ¡°ALL PROCEEDS GO TO FIGHT WORLD HUNGER!¡± From inside the tree line a voice called back. ¡°BUT WHAT ABOUT HUNGRY PEOPLE HERE?¡± ¡°Oh, I gotcha now.¡± Chuck said as he pointed his horn at the source of the noise and triggered his Afterburner ability. There was a pulse of rainbow colored lights, an explosion of glitter, then he was gone. The troll hunters charged after Chuck. As they ran through the woods, alerts started popping up in Francis¡¯ mind. Chapter 25: Predator Zeusdad knew he had fucked up when he heard the sound of carousel music rapidly approaching. The trees were far apart and there was nowhere to hide. ¡°Shit! This is all your fault!¡± He shouted at a random troll, trying to preemptively assign blame as they scattered. The music got quieter and cut out completely. Zeusdad raised an eyebrow and listened. He could hear the faint sound of hooves but even those went away eventually. Maybe they were safe? ¡°See!¡± Shouted Truthtalker, a particularly nasty and short troll (if three meters tall could be considered short).¡°Nothing to worry about.¡± ¡°Oh, is that so?¡± Asked a voice in his ear. Truthtalker¡¯s eyes went wide as an invisible spear punched through his back and exploded out the front of his chest in a shower of blood. He convulsed, and blood ran from the corners of his mouth, but he didn''t fall. It was propping him up like a scarecrow. His blood dripped from the invisible weapon. The other trolls watched in horror as the bloody spear retracted and Truthtalker fell dead to the ground. The invisible attacker laughed, only the tip of their spear was visible. Then they lunged for the next troll, piercing through the side of his head. Whatever was attacking, they were fast. The remaining trolls tried to surround the spear wielder. But the other end was just as dangerous. Two trolls lunged forward, only to have their chests caved in. Eventually the blood splatter began to make the figure partially visible. As the seventh troll fell, the invisibility spell failed entirely, revealing a blood covered unicorn wearing a leather saddle. The trolls looked from their fallen frienemies to Chuck, then back again. ¡°What the fuck?¡± Zeusdad asked, ¡°We just got our asses handed to us by a fucking rainbow pony?¡± Chuck laughed. ¡°Oh, I am the absolute least of your worries.¡± The unicorn lashed out with a hoof to make an opening and launched himself impossibly high into the air. His hooves didn''t touch the ground as he rocketed away through the forest, leaving a trail of rainbows and destruction in his wake. ¡°What do you think he meant by that?¡± Lovinmom asked. *** Francis watched with approval as his mount exited the area. Chuck''s job was to keep the trolls occupied until the others could get into position. Now it was their turn to play. He sent Willow an update and went to work. Shiv and Julia galloped up behind the trolls in complete silence. It was surreal to see horses running at full tilt without making a sound. The trolls were looking in the direction Chuck ran off and didn''t spot the duo until it was too late. Shiv released her magic and sound returned to the world. She peeled off and started sending fiery arrows into the circle of trolls. Julia got in closer and slashed with a silver polearm as she rode by. Each cut left a blackened wound that refused to heal. They worked together. Shiv created openings for her partner to exploit while Julia kept the trolls bunched up away from cover. Francis estimated it took them six hits each to fell a troll. He pointed Relativity at a troll that was going after Julia¡¯s horse and let loose with one of his new spells. A bolt of green light splashed over the troll as he cast Decay. It shrieked and writhed as the flesh melted from its bones. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Francis targeted the three survivors with Slow. Their movements grew lethargic and sloppy as green webs of energy ensnared their limbs. He sent another Decay at the least healthy looking one. The troll fell to its knees, its eyes going white and withering in their sockets. ¡°Hey, I found their hideout.¡± Chuck said through the link. ¡°There are a few inside. I''ll keep an eye out while you finish up.¡± ¡°We will be along shortly.¡± He pointed Relativity at the two remaining trolls and cast Life Drain. The creatures shriveled and aged as Francis absorbed their essence. It was delicious, like the first sip of rum and coke after a long dry spell. ¡°God damn that feels good!¡± He roared as the trolls fell to the ground, their skin hanging loose on brittle bones. The alerts in his head told him they were dead. ¡°Come on, let''s get some more!¡± Relativity vibrated happily in Francis'' hand as he walked towards Chuck and the remaining trolls. It was pleased with the Marine. He had taken another step down the path towards lichdom. Julia and Shiv looked at the desiccated corpses, then back to each other. They followed behind Francis at a decent distance. Usually only powerful undead had access to Life Drain. ¡°Who the fuck is this guy?¡± Shiv asked her partner through the telepathic link they shared. The assassin wasn''t afraid, but she was curious. ¡°Who cares?¡± The dark paladin flicked her silver naginata to remove the blood before it dried. ¡°He''s doing all the hard work for us. Let''s not look a gift lich in the mouth.¡± ¡°That''s true.¡± Shiv shrugged. ¡°Do you think Chuck will let me pet him? I always wanted to pet a unicorn.¡± ¡°Probably.¡± Julia replied. ¡°But you may want to wash him first.¡± *** ¡°So, Francis.¡± Julia said as she looked at the aftermath of the Marine¡¯s house call. Six more trolls lay dead with holes burned through their chests. ¡°Are you a god?¡± Francis went back to magically cleaning off his mount. The blood and gore disappeared, leaving Chuck as good as new. ¡°Yeah, I''m the god of monogamy, fidelity, loyalty, and horses.¡± He jerked his thumb eastward. ¡°My city is that way.¡± A wide smile crossed Julia¡¯s face. ¡°Wonderful. Did I hear correctly that you were the god of monogamy?¡± ¡°Indeed you did. Why?¡± Francis wondered why that was important. Usually people asked about the horses. ¡°Well, I have a bit of an issue. You see, I am supposed to take part in an arranged marriage against my will. Unfortunately, I love another and wish to marry them instead. Breaking that arrangement would be very bad. However, the contract has a clause about divine intervention.¡± ¡°Oh, gotcha. Yeah, fuck that. Who do you want to marry?¡± Francis looked to Chuck for support and the horse nodded. ¡°We have a High Priestess who can perform the ceremony.¡± Chuck confirmed. Julia got down on one knee in front of Shiv, who was cursing up a storm. Francis watched the exchange with interest. In hindsight, it made complete sense. Shiv pointed at her partner and shook her head. She knew where this was going. ¡°Juju, don''t you dare!¡± She warned. ¡°There will be hell to pay! If you break that contract your father is going to hunt us down like dogs!¡± ¡°Frankly, my dear. I don''t give a fuck.¡± Julia said as she pulled a silver pendant from inside her shirt and held it out to her partner. ¡°Shivaree Rose, will you marry me?¡± She asked. ¡°Fine!¡± Shouted Shiv, turning a bright shade of red as she put the necklace on. ¡°You win!¡± Julia stood up and took her partner in her arms. ¡°My dear, I always win.¡± ¡°Oh, this is wonderful.¡± Chuck said as the two kissed, rainbow tears streaming from his eyes. ¡°Absolutely wonderful!¡± Francis looked at his friend with curiosity. Deep in his grunt brain, a realization began to form. He shrugged and reached for a fresh leaf of tobacco. What Chuck got up to in his free time was his own damn business. Chapter 26: The Assessment Willow arrived shortly after the battle and introduced herself. Francis had kept her up to date on the mission, which she found equal parts annoying and endearing. She wasn''t used to such constant communication. Though she could see herself warming up to the idea of a god who told her what he was up to. Julia and Shiv hadn''t so much as blinked when Willow started animating the dead trolls. She was particularly pleased with how the skeletons turned out. They wouldn''t be as strong as the zombies. But with some adornments and sweet smelling herbs, they would make fine additions to the temple. (She was imagining a gold and black theme, very glam goth.) Once the work was done, the group set off back towards Brexis. Francis took point further up the road to screen for ambushes, while the undead moved through the forest parallel to him. Any cutthroats lying in wait would be in for one hell of a surprise. The three women rode further behind so they could talk and avoid getting covered in road dust. Willow was fulfilling her role as High Priestess by doing a pre-marital assessment. She had agreed to perform the ceremony. But certain formalities still needed to be observed. ¡°I understand you two are assassins. Are you freelance, or something more official?¡± She asked. It was important to understand the financial situation and dynamics of two potential newlyweds. ¡°Oh, we aren''t some stab by night hooligans, I assure you. We are both full members of the Villain''s League.¡± Julia beamed, producing an ornate black dagger from her inventory. ¡°I am a Deathmark Paladin of Swift Vengeance and my lovely wife-to-be is a¡­ oh, what was your designation again?¡± Shiv sighed and pulled a similar weapon from nowhere before making it vanish again. ¡°Arcane Assassin of Deadly Artistry.¡± She glared at Julia, but broke into a smile a few seconds later. Willow got the feeling this was a running joke. ¡°Yes, quite the flair for the dramatic.¡± Julia laughed. ¡°But she''s absolutely wonderful with a bow, knife, paintbrush, and her voice is divine.¡± ¡°How did you two meet?¡± Willow asked, liking what she was seeing. The two had a very healthy dynamic and were obviously in love. ¡°That is a bit of a story.¡± Shiv said, with a look like she had bitten into a lemon. ¡°Five years back we were both on a mission to kill the same person. The VL had booked her to take him out and I was doing the same job on a freelance contract.¡± ¡°Yes, that''s part of why I prefer league work, fewer unnecessary fuck ups.¡± Julia said knowingly. ¡°Plus, they always pay on time and in full.¡± ¡°Right.¡± Shiv agreed. ¡°Well, I snuck in as entertainment and was about to get some alone time with my target when everything went wrong. Luckily, Julia took the chaos as an opportunity to charge in and we ended up fighting the guards together.¡± ¡°I had quite a lot of fun too, until I got stabbed.¡± Julia knocked on her chest armor, which was sensibly unisex. ¡°Never leave home without your breastplate.¡± Shiv winced. ¡°Sorry about that, Juju.¡± ¡°Nonsense! You were watching my back, it was my job to mind my front. Although¡­¡± She gave her partner a smoldering look, a hint of a smile curling into her full lips. ¡°Can you blame me for being a bit distracted? The way you fought like a cornered dragon was incredibly sexy.¡± The redhead blushed and leaned in for a kiss. ¡°You are trouble.¡± She said. ¡°Yes, but you love me.¡± Julia smirked. ¡°And now, you''re going to have to keep good on your word, and marry me.¡± Shiv¡¯s face shifted between a frown and a smile before settling in the middle ground of grim determination. ¡°Juju, you know they''re going to try and kill us when they find out.¡± ¡°Let them come.¡± Julia said, showing the steadfast resolve paladins were notorious for. She turned to Willow. ¡°You will probably experience some backlash from my family for thwarting their plans. They intended to marry me off in exchange for power later this year.¡± ¡°They may show up at your doorstep.¡± She warned. Obviously Julia still wished to continue, but felt the need to warn Willow. That spoke well of her character. ¡°I just thought you should know.¡± The Death Cleric considered this. She hated arranged marriages, particularly those that involved unwilling participants. Francis had backed her into a corner by agreeing, and it was a less than ideal time to be making new enemies. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Not that she would have said no, but it would have been nice if he asked first. Granted, she appreciated how he took charge without debating endlessly, like some other gods. ¡°Are you fond of your family?¡± Willow asked, deciding to make lemonade from lemons. (Or rather, minions from Julia¡¯s relatives.) ¡°No. They used to beat me with sticks.¡± Julia frowned at Willow''s pleasant tone. ¡°Why do you ask?¡± ¡°I think you should invite them to the wedding. It is always good for newlyweds to have a fresh start, free of all that emotional baggage.¡± Willow smiled, showing sharp white fangs. ¡°I''d love to see them in attendance.¡± The two women looked at one another. Shiv spoke up first. ¡°No offense, but you have no idea who these people are.¡± ¡°Of course not.¡± Willow said sweetly. ¡°But I''m very much looking forward to meeting them. Who knows, they might even find a place here with us at the temple. We are dreadfully short handed as of late.¡± Julia frowned, then her eyes went wide as she understood the full meaning of the words. ¡°Oh! Yes! My parents are very keen on religion. Aren''t they, Shiv?¡± ¡°Practically known for it.¡± Shiv agreed, the gears turning in her head already. ¡°Juju, I know you hate them for what they did. But if they were that easy to kill, we would have done it by now. And Willow, you barely know us.¡± ¡°That is true.¡± Willow admitted, realizing that her age was showing. The younger generation didn''t understand how powerful words and promises could be. The truth was she didn''t want to do this. But not because she was afraid. As a High Priestess, her best chance of success was to grow the cult¡¯s power and influence while remaining relatively unnoticed. Killing nobles would attract the wrong kind of attention. Fuck it, Willow thought. Francis¡¯ fight with the titan had already announced their presence to the world. Hades had it out for them and she was tired of hiding her power. Willow was a five hundred year old Death Cleric with the experience and skills to match her age. The idea that she would be afraid of some nobles was laughable. The air grew thick and arcs of green energy crackled between her fingers as she let her full power manifest. ¡°My name is Willow Wisp, and I was born long before your noble houses clawed their way up from the mud. I have attended the births of gods and sacrificed them at my altar.¡± The High Priestess said, drawing power around her like a mantle, but not bothering to raise her voice. ¡°I have destroyed armies and toppled kingdoms. Tell me, Shiv. Have you ever heard of the great Makila Dynasty?¡± ¡°Um¡­ weren''t they destroyed? Something about them pissing off a death god and being wiped off the face of Vahnis for their hubris? ¡± Shiv¡¯s expression faltered as she realized who had been responsible for their extermination. ¡°Oh¡­ fuck.¡± Willow looked at the two women, letting the storm within her settle and calm. ¡°Good, now you understand. So, stop worrying about other people. If this is what you want, I''ll do it.¡± Julia and Shiv locked eyes, had a silent conversation, then nodded in unison. ¡°Good.¡± Willow said. ¡°Any further questions before I continue my assessment?¡± Julia raised her armored hand. ¡°Just a quick one. I almost hate to ask. But¡­¡± She looked at Shiv. ¡°Are you hiring?¡± Shiv asked. ¡°Because I would absolutely rather work for you, than against you. And if we work for you, there would be a conflict of interest if the VL tried to hire us.¡± She began to fall onto a groove as the pitch materialized. ¡°So, not only would you be getting two of the best assassins in the business. You would also be removing two potential threats at the same time.¡± Willow laughed. Neither of the assassins were much of a threat to her. But she admired their moxie and forward thinking. ¡°Sure. There''s a wedding I''m planning. I''ll pay you each a gold to kill any asshole nobles that try to disrupt it.¡± ¡°Eh¡­¡± Shiv made a face as she contemplated the idea of working for a single gold. Even if it was something she would have gladly done for free. McHorseface let out a snort to get their attention. Normally he preferred to stay quiet around strangers who didn''t know he was uplifted. But they needed to hear it from someone besides Willow. ¡°Don''t worry about it, they''re not actually cheapskates. Chuck has made out like a bandit since he joined up. He paid off his loan and even had enough gold leftover to buy me.¡± ¡°You''re saying another horse owns you?¡± Julia looked at McHorseface with confusion. ¡°Isn''t that a bit¡­?¡± ¡°Existentially terrible? Morally reprehensible? Nah.¡± Willow''s mount shook his head, causing her to wobble uncomfortably in the saddle. ¡°Technically I am property of the Rainbow Road Transportation company, out of Brexis.¡± ¡°How does that make a difference? Wouldn''t you rather be free?¡± Julia pressed. ¡°Oh, I am. In all but name. If I want out I can buy my freedom for a copper. Chuck wanted to free us all and demand equality. But change is slow, you see. Only the Wildlands give uplifts equal rights and protections.¡± McHorseface gave her a sly look that was eerily out of place on a horse. ¡°But I''ll tell you what, everyone has rules about stealing or harming property, don''t they?¡± Shiv grinned. ¡°You''re gaming the system.¡± ¡°Am I?¡± McHorseface asked innocently. ¡°Well, I wouldn''t know anything about that, because I''m just a horse. But let''s not get distracted by who found a workaround to a horrible situation. I believe you were about to thank Willow for offering you a job.¡± ¡°Thanks Willow.¡± Shiv said. ¡°We would love to come work for you.¡± Off in the distance Francis swore as a wall of text invaded his mind. Chapter 27: Fixer Upper Brexis was kind of a shithole. But more due to centuries of neglect, instead of any more tangible negative quality. It certainly was impressive though, even at night. Ancient mages had taken a mountain of black granite and carved away everything that didn''t look like a city. The magical nature of the construction was made blatantly obvious by the perfectly circular stone double wall that circled the city. A permanent light spell lit up the ground to either side of it. A road of matching black stone fifteen meters wide spiraled up to Zed''s former lair on top of the mountain. Magical illumination flowed down the road, branching off in little streams to illuminate the side streets. It pooled at the base like a glowing lake. The permanent spells were a reminder of how great the city had once been, and perhaps could be again. In its heyday Brexis had been home to over forty thousand people. The river that cut through the forest had given the otherwise isolated city surprisingly easy access to trade. If they found a buyer for their timber, it would probably travel down that same river west towards the capital. They walked up the long spiraling road with their undead trolls leading the way. Empty buildings made of black stone flanked the road to either side. Once they might have been shops or houses. But now all that occupied them were the undead that had escaped Francis¡¯ extermination. Whenever one caught wind of them it would charge out, only to be pinned down by the trolls while Willow reprogrammed it. The process took a few minutes and seemed to be more difficult for her than raising them from scratch. ¡°So, how did Zed capture you in the first place?¡± Francis asked, trying to understand how someone so adept at managing the undead had been taken prisoner. Willow didn''t seem like the type to give up without a fight. ¡°Tactics and plans don''t mean shit if your team refuses to follow them.¡± Willow winced at the unpleasant memory. ¡°Zed had his weakest minions attack in ones and twos. Then, once the rest of my party were feeling invincible and acting stupid, he slammed the door on us.¡± ¡°Hordes and swarms are very nasty and deceptively strong.¡± Julia explained when she noticed the look of confusion on Francis¡¯ face. ¡°A smart lich will separate members of a party then surround them. We call that ¡®slamming the door¡¯ on someone.¡± ¡°Because when it happens you can''t escape and you''re fucked.¡± Shiv elaborated. ¡°I''ve seen paladins in full plate ripped apart by packs of wolves. And I mean that literally.¡± Francis didn''t get it. He''d been shot in the face with crossbow bolts and they''d bounced off. Why would wolves be special? When he asked for an explanation, Willow sighed. ¡°I keep forgetting you''re not from around here. Dismount and I''ll show you why.¡± Willow hopped to the ground. He joined her and looked around awkwardly. ¡°Um, you''re not going to hit me. Are you?¡± ¡°No. Sparring with romantic partners has never appealed to me. It seems unhealthy.¡± Willow waved her hand and a series of glowing lines appeared. Francis was standing in the middle of a meter wide box with eight similarly sized boxes surrounding him. ¡°You are incredibly hard to hit. But any creature within melee range can choose to reduce your Deflection by their tier instead of attacking. If all eight decided to do that, you wouldn''t last long.¡± ¡°Their archers would fill you with holes while the rest stabbed you with spears or threw javelins. And that''s assuming they were low level undead. Higher tier creatures would be landing critical hits.¡± Willow dismissed the illusionary grid. ¡°Now, do you see why hordes are so dangerous and tactics are important?¡± ¡°Yes, Ma''am.¡± Francis nodded. Small group tactics would be just as important in this world as the one he came from. He looked at his staff, realizing why Relativity had given him the Inferno spell. ¡°What if I did something like this?¡± Ten cubic meters of fire flared up around him in a ¡°U¡± shape. The drain on his mana reserves was intense as he tried to hold the spell. He let the flames die out. ¡°Ok, maybe something less intense.¡± ¡°And now he begins to understand why everyone still needs a melee weapon.¡± Julia observed. ¡°You''ll run dry if you focus on magic alone or go for crazy burst damage instead of buffs and debuffs.¡± ¡°It''s way more effective to buff the team than go solo.¡± Shiv agreed. ¡°You get more damage overall and spend less mana. What class are you, anyway? The robes say ¡®wizard¡¯ but I don''t see a spell book, and you don''t seem the scholarly type. No offense.¡± If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡°None taken. But I don''t actually hate learnin¡¯, you know.¡± Francis said, shifting awkwardly. Shiv¡¯s words had hit a nerve, touching on what might have been Francis¡¯s only insecurity, besides his fears about fatherhood. It wasn''t that he was stupid or didn''t value education. He would have given almost anything to be the kind of person who could sit down with a book and stand up with new ideas. But that wasn''t how his brain worked. This world was a closed book to him. If he didn''t tell his friends what was wrong, they would think he was being dumb on purpose. Or maybe they would assume he knew something he didn''t and Willow or Chuck would get hurt. He couldn''t let that happen. Even if they would look at him differently. More importantly, he had to admit it to himself. He was out of his depth and needed help. Francis hated this. He hated the pity people gave him, the assumptions people made. He wasn''t dumb. He was smart! He just wasn''t smart in the way people wanted. But they were in a firefight. This whole world was a battlefield, with people who wanted to hurt him and the people around him. Hiding an injury or a weakness was a good way to get people killed. That was why you always told your CO when you weren''t at your best. You might downplay the injuries, or take some pills to dull the pain. But you told the boss what was going on and let them decide where to put you. He gritted his teeth and continued. Willow was surprised to see the sudden change in the normally fearless man. He was there with them, but his mind was somewhere else. ¡°I like talking to people and listening to what they tell me. I like hearing stories and getting to know folks.¡± He grimaced. ¡°I just¡­ I''d rather people teach me than learn on my own. I don''t absorb¡­ words when I read them. I understand them, but they don''t stick.¡± The Marine shrugged helplessly. ¡°Normally I don''t talk about it, but we are fighting together and I don''t want to let people down. Can''t¡­ hide things from people you fight with.¡± He shook his head. ¡°No good comes of that. Sorry.¡± Willow walked over and gave him a hug. She rubbed his back with her hand when they separated. ¡°Don''t worry about it. You did the right thing by telling us.¡± Julia and Shiv wisely stayed quiet. Shiv looked at her partner, silently asking if she did something wrong. Julia shook her head and gestured for them to continue on, giving the other couple some space. The troll zombies had already resumed shuffling up the road. A prompt appeared in the air in front of Francis, external from his mind. It took the form of a blue box with white text. An ethereal male voice spoke slowly and clearly, taking care to enunciate each word.
Switch from mental text to hybrid audio-visual interface? Only you can see and hear these prompts. You can respond verbally, mentally, or by physically interacting with the interface. Yes/No
He reached out and touched the Yes. Unsure if this new interface would help, but willing to try. Willow watched him, smiling as she realized what was happening.
Hybrid mode selected. You can also access menus, tutorials, tips, inventory, maps, notes, bestiary, or personal information by verbal or mental request. Tutorials are a good way for users to acclimate to their new abilities and the world. Users who prefer hands-on learning may benefit from performing mini-quests.
The new boxes were easier to understand, but still a little slippery. He had to listen carefully to absorb the information. It didn''t fix things, but it was a step in the right direction. ¡°Thank you.¡± He said, not sure if System could or would respond.
You are welcome, Francis. -System
¡°Well, that''s a lot better.¡± Francis said, feeling like a heavy weight had gotten a bit lighter. He still had a long way to go, but at least he had a way forward. Willow gave him a kiss on the cheek. ¡°Thank you.¡± She said. He frowned, unsure why he was being thanked. Women were still a mystery to him. ¡°What for?¡± ¡°Trusting me.¡± She explained, taking his large callused hand in hers and squeezing it gently. ¡°We''re a team, and it is nice to know that you trust me enough to let me know what''s going on. That says a lot about you. We will talk more about it later, but I wanted to say it now.¡± Francis leaned down and kissed her. Then they continued together on foot, giving the mounts some rest. He wasn''t sure why he was here in this world, but he was happy to have Willow at his side. Chapter 28: Temptation in the Garden At the top of the mountain was an elegant palace built out of pale gray stone that had been darkened by age and neglect. The gardens and grounds were wild, but thriving. Glowing flowers crept up the palace¡¯s domed roof, painting it with soft pink, purple, and blue lights. The grounds themselves were ringed by double walls of magically shaped black granite with a ten meter gap between them. Francis was unsure why the architects chose the distinctive double wall design. It almost reminded him of the slat armor they welded onto vehicles to protect against RPGs. Perhaps it was to protect the inner structures against siege weapons? That was the other thing. He saw six towers set up equidistant along the wall. But there were no ballista or other defensive weapons on the platforms. The keep above Riverlark had plenty of them, so why didn''t Brexis? Another strange design choice was the lack of arrow slits or murder holes. It all seemed so sterile and clean, like an Apple product. But he figured there had to be a reason why it was built that way. ¡°So, how did this place defend itself?¡± Francis asked as they walked through the garden. ¡°I don''t see any trebuchets.¡± ¡°Magic.¡± Willow explained, stopping from time to time to gather a particularly delicious looking fruit or vegetable. All the plants seemed healthy, vibrant even. ¡°Any large forces that attacked would be converted into new minions by the necromancers. Higher level attackers were dealt with individually, or swarmed by the undead.¡± Francis shuddered as he imagined a wave of decaying corpses coming towards him, flowing over the walls like water. ¡°Got it, don''t fuck with necromancers.¡± He said as he picked an apple from one of the trees. He magically cleaned it, then took a bite. The skin was a brilliant pink with crisp white flesh beneath. It was impossibly juicy and sweet. ¡°Hot damn! That''s a fucking good apple!¡± Willow decided against pointing out that, technically speaking, both of them were necromancers. ¡°You know, there''s more to it than killing people and animating corpses. This garden is a good example.¡± She waved her hand. The Marine looked at his apple with suspicion. He couldn''t imagine how necromancy could be involved with fruit production. ¡°Say again?¡± ¡°Well, necromancy doesn''t just work on dead stuff.¡± Willow picked an apple of her own. She wiped it off on her sleeve and bit into it. They were just as sweet as she remembered. The gardens of Brexis used to be famous, back before Zed withdrew from the world. ¡°A talented practitioner can enhance living things too. These trees are resistant to blight, disease, and they bloom continuously. Any pests that would attack them are killed and become fertilizer.¡± She put her hand on the trunk and offered some of her mana to the tree. It was gladly accepted, new buds opened as it drank deep. ¡°We can feed them, tell them what we want, shape them to our will.¡± Francis didn''t know much about magic. But he had played Dungeons and Dragons with the other grunts a few times. He thought it was pretty cool how some lines in the dirt, a few rocks, bottle caps, and shell casings could come together to make a fantasy world. The character sheets always gave him trouble though. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! ¡°Um, isn''t that more of a druid thing?¡± He asked, ¡°You know, because of plants.¡± Willow took his hand and continued towards the gazebo where the others were waiting. ¡°Yes, and no.¡± She said, making sure not to sound too harsh. Francis was beginning on his path as a necromancer, and it was important to her that he learn the truth. It was good that he was asking questions. ¡°Necromancy gets a bad reputation because a lot of the people who practice it are assholes.¡± She plucked a white jasmine flower and held it out to Francis, pushing her mana into the bloom until it glowed. ¡°This flower will never fade, or decay. A druid would tell you that is wrong, that it disrupts the natural order of things. They believe it is better to allow rot and chaos than to take control. But they''re hypocrites.¡± She tucked the flower behind her pointed ear. ¡°They say a child being snatched by wild animals is natural, as long as it isn''t their child. They shape the minds of beasts and make uplifts, but complain when a house is built.¡± Willow tried to think of how to boil down the complex concepts into something Francis could understand, while still being truthful. Truth was important. She wouldn''t betray his trust by lying. ¡°Fundamentally, when you get right down to it, we believe in control and order. We shape the world to our will. Druids sort of just let things happen.¡± The Death Cleric paused, realizing she wasn''t being entirely fair. ¡°There needs to be a middle ground between chaos and order, otherwise you get isolationists like Zed ruling over dead cities. At least druids tend to err on the side of non-interference. So they do less harm.¡± ¡°You''re pretty smart.¡± Francis said, leaning down to kiss her. He caught a whiff of jasmine and apples as their lips touched. ¡°Thank you for explaining things to me.¡± Willow looked up at him with her wide green eyes. She studied his face as if trying to see how much of her words he had understood. ¡°I try my best to be objective, but it is important to me that you make your own decisions. I love my magic, and I would love to teach you more about it.¡± She grimaced, knowing the words needed to be said. ¡°But it isn''t for everyone, and it is very easy to go down a selfish path. If you aren''t careful, necromancy can make you into a monster. And I don''t want that for you. I would never want that for you.¡± To Francis¡¯ surprise, Relativity radiated a strong sense of agreement. It didn''t want to be wielded by some boring lich with a dead heart. It wanted a worthy king who would bring Brexis back to its former glory. (Even if Relativity was too nihilistic to believe that could ever happen.) Visions of happy, healthy people walking down clean streets filled Francis'' mind. Of honored dead adorned with gold tending lush orchards and fields. A city full of abundance. He saw Brexis as Relativity remembered it. Not as an empire. Not as a force that sought to conquer, but a beacon of order and prosperity. A city built on magic that showed what was possible. A place where children would never know war, or hunger. And he could make it happen. ¡°Are you alright?¡± Willow asked, looking at Francis with concern. Relativity had a certain reputation. ¡°Never better.¡± Francis said, smiling as the vision faded. It had felt so real, so possible. But that was the trap, wasn''t it? ¡°Don''t worry, I''m not going evil anytime soon.¡± He assured Willow. ¡°Relativity was just letting me know how much they loved the city. I guess it used to be one hell of a place.¡± Relativity gave a feeling of affirmation and an eagerness to help. ¡°Come on, we''ve fucked around for long enough.¡± Francis gave Willow a peck on the forehead. ¡°Shiv and Julia are waiting.¡± ¡°Are you sure you''re alright?¡± Willow pressed. ¡°No sudden cravings for power or world domination?¡± ¡°Baby, I''m just a grunt.¡± Francis laughed. ¡°All I need is a patch of land, a good woman to share it with, and enough money for a few beers with the boys. I¡¯m pretty low maintenance.¡± Relativity listened as Francis spoke. It had to admit, that didn''t sound half bad. Chapter 29: Room Service of the Damned Francis woke up the next morning, somewhat worse for wear. He looked down to see Willow sleeping with her head on his chest, her black tail wrapped around his ankle. He frowned, looking at the strange, finely scaled appendage. Francis could vaguely remember catching sight of it when they first hooked up. But it had vanished before he could get a good look at it. For a brief mad second he felt the urge to give her tail a good tug to see if it would retract like a tape measure or projector screen. But Francis didn''t, because that was asking for trouble. (And would probably get him cock punched in retaliation.) Willow was apparently self conscious about her tail, so he decided not to bring it up unless she mentioned it first. But he definitely had some questions. She had told him fauns had fae, demonic, and human ancestry. Perhaps her particular mix leaned more towards one side, judging from the horns and cute little devil tail. Francis tried to slide out from underneath his sleeping girlfriend so he could go get some chow. Instead she slid with him. He considered his options. Teleporting sounded fun. But he didn''t want to risk hurting her. Also, she was using him as a body pillow so there was no way his sudden disappearance wouldn''t wake her up. ¡°Babe?¡± He called softly. Her tail and ears flicked at the sound but Willow didn''t stir. ¡°I gotta get up now.¡± Willow cracked one eye open and looked at Francis. Then she straddled him and pretended to go back to sleep. ¡°Mine.¡± She said, wrapping her arms around him to drive the point home. They had hit the fae whiskey hard last night and Willow wasn''t much of a morning person. ¡°Yeah, but I gotta get up.¡± Francis looked around for his canteen. They were in one of the palace guest rooms. At first Francis had wondered why everything was so clean. But later that night when he caught a glimpse of a golden skeleton walking the halls, the answer had become obvious. The ornamental undead were inscribed with spells they could use to clean and maintain the palace. Zed had never bothered to turn them off. So they continued to perform their duties, keeping the palace ready in case of visitors. Francis wondered if Zed had left the golden skeletons alone because they were harder to reprogram. Or maybe it was a bitch to get them running again once he erased their original instructions. Willow yawned like a cat. ¡°Last night was fun.¡± She said, ¡°I wonder how the girls are holding up.¡± ¡°Eh, probably fine?¡± The last time Francis saw either of them, Julia and Shiv had been headed off towards the garden with a bottle of something old and bubbly from the palace wine cellar. There was a soft knock on the door and two golden skeletons appeared holding trays. On each one was a glass of water, what looked like orange juice, and a selection of sliced fruit. They set the trays down on the table by the door, then left. ¡°Did you do that?¡± Francis asked. ¡°Nope.¡± Willow said, getting up to grab a glass of juice. The cut crystal was a step up from the wooden tankards and clay mugs Francis had gotten used to. She gave it a sniff then took a sip. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s good.¡± Francis took the opportunity to get out of bed. He tried the juice and was blown away by the flavor. ¡°Woah, what is this stuff?¡± ¡°Tastes like peach and tangerine, maybe with a little bit of strawberry.¡± Willow said, using her free hand to rub his back. ¡°I forgot how good necromancer hospitality could be.¡± Francis smiled at the image in his head of Zed running a bed and breakfast. He put his pink booty shorts back on and used a cleaning spell to freshen up. It was incredibly convenient being able to clean and deodorize clothes, even while he was still wearing them. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°I''m going to go for a run.¡± He said, finishing off his juice and grabbing a handful of berries. Francis wasn''t sure if he could benefit from exercising. But that wasn''t the point. He needed to know what his body was capable of, and routine was important. ¡°Have fun.¡± Willow said, giving him a peck on the cheek. ¡°But don''t get too tired.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Francis asked, trying to remember if they had something big planned for today. There was Julia and Shiv¡¯s wedding to arrange, some stuff with the timber, but nothing too strenuous. Willow leaned in to whisper the answer, nipping at his ear with her sharp teeth. Francis processed this new information. Maybe just a short jog today, he thought. Best not to overdo it. Then Willow got back into bed, beckoning for him to join her. Francis shook his head and did as he was told. He could always go for a run later. *** After a very pleasant morning romp and a shower, Francis went for a run. As he pounded the ground in his sandals and pink booty shorts, he began to notice a common theme. Almost everything here was circular. The palace had a circular dome and outer walls. The garden was divided up into overlapping circles. Even the golden skeletons that maintained it all followed never ending loops. He wasn''t philosophical enough to discern any meaningful insights from it. But he still noticed. That bugged him. He didn''t like coming up short. Usually he could let other people do the thinking. He had whole teams of specialists to break it down for him fuzzy puppet style and catch the things he missed. But he was on his own here. Being alone and in charge was not a natural state for a grunt. Francis found himself wishing that he had someone else he trusted to do the thinking. Willow was smart, but she wanted him to step up and make decisions. She believed he should take the information she offered and make his own mind up. Too bad Francis¡¯ mind was half scrambled at the best of times. Running helped though. A simple repetitive task kept the brain weasels away and cleared the fog that came from too much thinking. He laughed at the idea of brain weasels. Chuck really was something else. The simple truth was, Francis had been asked to operate outside of his current ability and comfort zone. ¡°Fuck it, let''s get uncomfortable then.¡± Francis grunted as he picked up the pace. It didn''t matter how he felt about the situation, he was a Marine. Marines made do. One of Francis'' heroes, General Jim Mattis, had said that reading was an honor, a gift from warriors and historians. If Francis was going to become better, he needed to find a way to learn and retain new information. Luckily, System had shown him a way forward. ¡°System, what can you tell me about Vahnis?¡± He asked as he came to a stop. A blue box of text appeared in front of him full of words like ¡°ellipsoid¡± and ¡°atmospheric¡±. That wouldn''t do. ¡°System, please tell me about Vahnis. But do it in Grunt.¡± He said, unsure if System would be able or willing to accommodate him. There was a pause as System considered his request. It wasn''t unreasonable, and Grunt was a language it had access to. So, why not? Maybe it would even be fun. The text box began to shrink as complex words were deleted or replaced. A raspy voice began to speak. Francis liked this new voice. It was the kind of voice he wouldn''t mind drinking a few beers and bullshitting with after a long day. It reminded him of home.
Vahnis is a planet full of magic, and all other kinds of wild shit. It has a few continents, but the biggest is Malama. That''s where you are now. It has one moon, because two would just be showing off. That big bright fucking thing above you is the sun. Vahnis circles around that once every three hundred and sixty days. The calendar is divided into ten months made up of thirty-six days, with six day weeks, because some of us don''t get Sundays off. Days are exactly twenty-four hours. None of that leap year shit. System is the fucker in charge of making sure you fuckers don''t blow everything up. He''s a hard-ass, but means well. Magic is a thing here, even if it would be way easier if it wasn''t¡­
Francis resumed his run, System¡¯s new voice explaining things to him in ways he could actually understand. Yeah, this was way better. This was the way forward. Chapter 30: Mean Gods Tumis Blooddagger (or "Larry¡± as his mother called him) was an assassin for hire. He was quite high level, but unpopular. Perhaps his edgelord bullshit was a part of that. He crept along the garden path, staying low and waiting for Francis to come to a stop. The big Marine had been running in circles for over an hour. The assassin waited patiently. He had plenty of time. His mother didn''t need him back until the evening. The VL wouldn''t accept a contract to kill a god. They didn''t want the kind of fallout that would come from pissing off a divine being. But Larry wasn''t above doing a little freelance work. Black eyeliner and poisoned daggers were expensive (at least, in the quantities Larry used). He didn''t know who wanted Francis dead, or why. All he knew was they were paying a ton of money to kill some dumb portal hopper. Easy work, for someone like him. Finally Francis stopped to take a sip of water from one of the garden¡¯s many fountains. Larry crept towards the man, crossing the open space between them carefully. He stopped as he heard a whistling sound. It was getting louder by the second, but where was it coming from? Francis spun around in time to see Murder Cube slam into the ground like a mortar. It flattened the assassin into paste. He had wondered why he was hearing a sound effect straight out of a world war two movie. (Real artillery didn''t do that.) The cube began to spin, throwing bits of Larry all around the garden like a dog shaking off mud. ¡°GET IN, LOSER!¡± It shrieked. ¡°WE''RE GOING SHOPPING!¡± *** Francis found himself in a familiar fluffy white space. The other gods were all standing around with their backs to him. He listened as they argued. ¡°This is bullshit.¡± Hades said to Zeus. ¡°First that pink asshole, now this? What kind of champions are they sending us?¡± Zeus ignored his brother¡¯s pessimism. He knew better than to take it at face value. Hades was always scheming. ¡°We pay to get the first pick. If this is what we''re getting, imagine how the lesser gods who can''t afford priority are doing.¡± ¡°You know, that new guy Francis is already calling himself a god.¡± Hades laughed. ¡°Oh really, of what?¡± Aphrodite looked over with interest. ¡°Monogamy.¡± Hades replied with a knowing grin. ¡°Damn it.¡± Aphrodite cursed. ¡°What a waste.¡± Francis had heard enough. He smacked Hades upside the head and went to see the new champion. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. ¡°Hey! What the fuck?¡± The god of death looked around to see who had dared touch him. Francis was already all the way through the crowd by the time Hades figured it out. Sitting politely at the table with his hands in front of him was the new champion, a man sized Belgian Malinois with upright ears and the unmistakable bearing of a soldier. He was bipedal, with a mix of canine features and shockingly intelligent golden brown eyes. He was also naked, except for a pair of black boxer briefs. The dog man cocked his head to the side as Francis approached, but didn''t speak. The bowls of food on the table were untouched. There were the usual staples of taco rice and ambrosia, but also golden bowls of marinated squash and cheese. ¡°Mind if I join you?¡± Francis asked as he sat down. ¡°Seems a shame to see such good chow go to waste.¡± The malinois made no move to stop Francis as he made up a plate. The Marine took his first bite of Korean BBQ and smiled, ¡°The food here is really good. You should try some.¡± The champion ignored him. Francis tried to remember the commands the K9 handlers used. ¡°Wo ist dein Ball?¡± Francis said, unsure if he was using the right words. He remembered the handler telling his dog that once or twice. ¡°Your German is fucking terrible," The champion said in a voice that was pure southern London working class. He chuckled and reached for the bowl of squash. ¡°Well, this isn''t my usual afterlife. The guy I normally talk to is much better looking.¡± He peered around theatrically. ¡°Where am I?¡± ¡°It''s like a welcome area. You pick a god to work with, then they drop you in the world.¡± The Marine shrugged. ¡°Don¡¯t ask me how it all works. I''m just a grunt from Texas. My name is Francis, by the way.¡± ¡°I¡¯m Jack.¡± The dog man extended a black fur covered hand with a leathery palm. Francis noticed a strange coldness as he took it, but decided against saying anything. Jack leaned in close. ¡°So, you must be that new god of monogamy that has the other ones all hot and bothered.¡± ¡°Could be.¡± Francis admitted. He didn''t think he was important enough for anyone to take notice of. Hades was probably running his mouth and Jack had heard him. ¡°I''m just a grunt who got lucky. Yeah, I''m a god. But so are those assholes.¡± He pointed his thumb at Hades. ¡°They''ll let anyone in, won''t they?¡± Jack laughed. ¡°Alright, you don''t seem like a total wanker. How do I become your champion?¡± ¡°Fuck if I know.¡± Francis took a sip of ambrosia. ¡°After I said yes I got stuck in a black room until I picked my stats like I was in some kind of video game.¡± ¡°Oooh! I love those!¡± Jack wagged his tail with excitement. ¡°We use something similar for training back home. Do you have a healer yet?¡± ¡°No, but we could definitely use one.¡± Francis admitted. It was only a matter of time until someone got hurt, and Willow had already explained that healing wasn''t her thing. ¡°Well, then that''s what I''ll probably pick. I always wanted to be a doctor.¡± Jack drained his cup and refilled it. ¡°Anything else I should know?¡± ¡°I don''t know where System will toss you out, but I hang my hat in Brexis. It''s a city I took over recently from a nasty lich called Zed. It''s on the edge of the Dark Forest, south of Riverlark.¡± ¡°Well, I''ll be sure to bring some beer when I stop by,¡± Jack said as he began to crumble into silvery gray dust. The process seemed to cause him no discomfort, unsettling as it was to watch. His wolfish grin stayed floating in the air long after the rest of his body had gone. ¡°See you around, Francis.¡± Jack said as his smile faded into nothingness. ¡°I''m looking forward to seeing all this world has to offer.¡± Chapter 31: Have God, Will Travel Murder Cube dropped Francis off in the garden around noon. It rocketed off into the sky once he was clear of the blast zone, a glowing white trail of carcinogenic smoke billowing out behind it. Francis watched it go, feeling like a child of divorced parents returning home after a weekend visit. He had a lot of questions for Murder Cube. Chief among them was what the hell to do about Jack. Francis wasn''t sure how he felt about his new champion. Jack had seemed cool, until he got all weird and turned into sand. But maybe things like that were normal where he came from. Francis doubted that, but it was a possibility. (After all, there were people who willingly ate vegemite.) An alert popped up in Francis'' vision shortly later.
Congratulations! You have gained a new follower. Jack Dust the Life Cleric: Battle Medic (20) has chosen you as their new god. They have claimed the vacant position of: Fucker in Charge of Keeping You Fuckers Alive AKA Doc
He wasn''t sure if that last part was Jack¡¯s doing or System was translating things into Grunt. But it certainly painted a picture. Willow walked out to greet him. ¡°How was your trip?¡± ¡°Well, I made a new friend but I''m not sure what his deal is.¡± Francis explained about Jack and his strange behavior. Willow didn''t seem overly bothered. ¡°Yeah, that''s dust hounds for you. They''re weird, but generally very reliable.¡± ¡°What the hell is a dust hound?¡± Francis asked.
The cave canem, more commonly known as ¡°dust hounds¡± or simply ¡°hounds¡±, are a nomadic race of canines. They have no homeland, instead preferring to wander the stars. Some dedicate their entire lives to a single profession. Those that do prefer to seek ¡°interesting and useful variation¡± over something as subjective as perfection. Cave canem are rare. But, due to their nomadic nature and hardiness, they can be found on almost all planes of existence. Their arrival as champions is said to herald a period of great change or upheaval.
¡°Huh, neat.¡± Francis said, somewhat relieved that Jack¡¯s party trick was considered normal for his species. Though he supposed the proper word was ¡°heritage¡±. He was still wrapping his head around that one. Willow looked at him funny. ¡°I''m surprised they don''t have any where you''re from.¡± This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. Francis stopped as he realized an important detail he had missed earlier. ¡°Maybe we do.¡± The Marine said. ¡°He talked like a brit and made jokes about how bad my German was.¡± ¡°What''s a German?¡± Willow asked, puzzling over the strange word. System wasn''t giving her much to go on with that translation. ¡°They are very serious people that like to make easy things complicated and occasionally try to take over the world. They drink a lot of beer and eat a lot of sausage.¡± Francis said. ¡°They''re pretty good at making weapons though.¡± ¡°So, like dwarves.¡± Willow said with a shrug. ¡°Do you know when we should expect Jack to arrive?¡± ¡°No clue.¡± Francis admitted. ¡°But I''m sure he''s fine. Dude seems like he can handle himself.¡± *** ¡°Shit!¡± Jack shouted as he ran from the Chthonic Titan of Devastation. Hades had decided not to fuck around this time and sent his best champion to do the spawn killing. Stompy was having so much fun! Each time he thought he had the funny dog man flattened, Jack dodged at the last second. But Stompy could see his new friend was getting tired. Jack searched through his character sheet as he dodged the titan¡¯s attacks. ¡°Ahah!¡± He said triumphantly as a foot the size of a semi-truck came down on him. *** Jack appeared in front of the palace with one HP, no MP, and ten points of Stress. But at least he was alive. That Cleric ability had come in clutch. ¡°Nailed it!¡± He called out, stumbling towards Francis and Willow. He looked like hell and felt worse. ¡°Sorry, I didn''t get a chance to stop for beers. A big fuck off angry lizard was waiting for me when I arrived.¡± ¡°Oh yeah, that''s Stompy. Hades probably sent him, he''s a prick like that.¡± Francis came over and laid Jack down on the grass. ¡°What do you need?¡± ¡°Just, give me a minute to catch my breath.¡± Jack coughed and spit up a mouthful of blood. He looked at the red liquid with surprise. ¡°Ah fuck, that''s not good.¡± ¡°System, what healing magic do I have available?¡± Francis asked, kicking himself for not thinking to ask sooner.
Quick Heal: Mana Cost = 10MP per 1HP restored. Takes effect instantly. Slow Heal: Mana Cost = 1MP per 1HP restored, heals at a rate of 1 HP per minute. Does not stack.
Francis shoved a thousand MP into Jack with Quick Heal and followed up with another thousand from Slow Heal. ¡°That should help, I think.¡± ¡°Yeah, it does.¡± Jack lay there in the grass, happy to be alive as light pulsed through him once per minute. He looked over at Francis. ¡°I thought you didn''t have a healer.¡± ¡°I just¡­¡± Francis frowned, it was too early for him to be comfortable talking to Jack about his issues. ¡°I haven''t had to do that before. I''m still figuring a few things out.¡± ¡°Thank heaven there''s a manual, eh?¡± Jack began to sit up, wincing painfully as each fracture and bruise made themselves known. He looked over at Willow and waved. ¡°Hi! I''m Jack.¡± ¡°Pleased to meet you, Jack. I''m Willow Wisp, the High Priestess.¡± She gestured towards a pair of golden skeletons walking towards them. They were carrying trays of fruit and pitchers of juice. ¡°You could probably use some refreshments.¡± Jack looked at the golden skeletons. His fur stood up and his nostrils flared as they approached. ¡°I''ll bet you don''t have those where you come from.¡± Francis joked. ¡°Actually, we do.¡± Jack said, ¡°I was just surprised to see them here.¡± The dust hound got up to his feet and grabbed a glass of juice. He drained it in big thirsty gulps and poured another. ¡°Where are you from, anyway?¡± Francis had no idea how the champion system worked. But it was obvious Jack wasn''t from his world. ¡°We¡¯re nomads. I''m not from anywhere.¡± Jack dodged the question and responded with one of his own. ¡°You said you were from Texas. Which one?¡± ¡°The one on Earth. The best one!¡± Francis laughed at the absurdity of the question. ¡°You should visit sometime. We have barbecue and tacos that will knock your socks off.¡± ¡°Sounds nice.¡± Jack looked down at his black boxer briefs. ¡°You got some clothes I can wear? It''s a bit breezy.¡± ¡°Oh, shit.¡± Francis realized he was still rocking his pink shorts. ¡°Yeah, come inside and we''ll get you sorted.¡± ¡°Lovely.¡± Jack said. ¡°Then after that, maybe you can tell me why people are trying to kill us.¡± Chapter 32: Francis Explains it All ¡°Wow, that is quite well stated. Eloquent, even.¡± Jack said sarcastically. Then he saw the sour expression on Francis'' face and quickly made a course correction. ¡°Sorry, that was unkind of me. I realized after I said it that I sounded like a total wanker.¡± ¡°It''s all good.¡± Francis said with a nod. The Marine was warming up to Jack now that they had gotten over the initial weirdness. ¡°I know I''m not exactly great with words. But I am trying to do better.¡± ¡°That''s all we can do, eh? Try and fuck up a bit less each time, hope we get better.¡± Jack shrugged, tossing a grape in the air and catching it in his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully. ¡°It''s alright. You''re a smart boy, you''ll figure it out eventually.¡± The dust hound was feeling much better now that his health wasn''t in the single digits. He had gratefully accepted Francis¡¯ old purple robes and staff. Jack didn''t seem surprised when the robes adjusted to fit him an hour later. Francis envied the way Jack effortlessly adapted to his surroundings. The dust hound seemed completely at home and relaxed, except for one small detail. Jack kept looking at his hands and frowning. ¡°Something wrong?¡± Francis asked. ¡°No, I suppose not. But also, yes. I''m not used to being flesh and blood. It feels¡­ weird.¡± Jack sighed. ¡°I haven''t run a full organic chassis since¡­¡± His voice trailed off as he got lost in a distant memory. ¡°Well, certainly not for a good long while.¡± The dust hound shook his head. ¡°I''m used to being functionally immortal. Being this fragile is¡­ disconcerting.¡± ¡°So how did you die?¡± Willow asked, ¡°Champions come here after they die in their world.¡± ¡°Old age.¡± Jack explained, ¡°We have a hard limit of two hundred years. I was doing my victory lap, as we call it, when time ran out. Apparently this is where I go next.¡± He chuckled sadly, letting his mask fall for a moment. ¡°It''s a shame, I had hoped I''d see my friends again. But I guess they made other arrangements.¡± ¡°I miss my friends too.¡± Francis said, understanding the pain of separation. ¡°But if there is a way back I''ll help you find it.¡± Jack looked at Francis for a moment. He seemed to be trying to reach a decision. ¡°I don''t think that¡¯s possible.¡± He said, struggling over the unpleasant news he was about to deliver. The dust hound made a guilty face like he had just been caught going through the trash. ¡°Maybe we come from different dimensions or something weird like that. But in my timeline, Earth was destroyed shortly after they discovered faster than light travel. So you might not have a home to go back to.¡± Francis felt his mouth go dry. ¡°Uh, say that again.¡± ¡°Earth was destroyed long before I was born.¡± Jack explained. ¡°So either you¡¯re from a parallel dimension, or more than likely, we''re from the same place but different times.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Francis looked at Willow for clarification. Because he hoped that didn''t mean what he thought it did. The idea that his whole world had been destroyed was too much for his brain to handle. He had to be misinterpreting it. The death cleric put her hand on his arm. ¡°We don''t know how it all works. There doesn''t seem to be any rhyme or reason to why champions come here. So Jack could be right, or maybe he''s wrong. There''s no way of knowing for sure.¡± ¡°Sorry, mate.¡± Jack winced. ¡°But I''m pretty sure there''s no going back. Causality won''t let you.¡± ¡°What?¡± Francis asked. ¡°Why not?¡± ¡°Time travel is impossible. I''m not going to go into the science of stew theory, but you can''t even send a message into the past.¡± He shook his head. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Stew theory was string theory¡¯s much tastier cousin. It stated that everything that had or would ever happen already had. We merely interpreted events as happening in sequence due to our limitations as mortal creatures. In essence, reality was a stew, and the only way to change the past was to make another stew entirely from scratch. ¡°Wherever or whenever we are, I don''t think there is a way back. But, there may be a silver lining.¡± Jack¡¯s ears perked up as he made the realization. He was the kind of person who figured things out as he talked through them. The dust hound smiled and wagged his tail. ¡°Because if this place is the last stop, maybe that means our friends will show up here eventually. Maybe we''re just the first ones to the party, or showed up at the wrong address.¡± ¡°So you''re saying we probably can''t go home, but we might not be alone?¡± Francis chewed on this new information. ¡°Ok, so that means we should find a way to send up a flare or something. Let them know where we are and how to find us.¡± ¡°Yeah!¡± Jack agreed. ¡°Let''s fucking do it!¡± Willow watched the two champions bond over a shared desire to be reunited with their friends. It was cute, in a way. They were like two boys at boarding school sharing stories about their friends back home. ¡°Man, I hope I see Ammo Dump and Babyface again.¡± Francis said with a smile. ¡°They would love it here.¡± ¡°Why do they call him Ammo Dump?¡± Jack asked. A glint appeared in Francis'' eye. ¡°Well, we were waiting for them to clear these mines, and we couldn''t get out of the vehicle¡­¡± *** Once Jack was getting settled in and Willow was off with Julia and Shiv planning the wedding, Francis grabbed two bottles of beer and went for a walk. It was that bullshit time between afternoon and evening when it was too late to get started on anything and too early to call it a day. Francis walked down the main street, looking for a good spot to sit down and think. The ruined city reminded him of his time in the desert. The shops and dwellings had that same rectangular construction and hard edges. Which he realized was at odds with the way the rest of the city was built. Francis wandered inside one of the dwellings to get a better look. The windows facing the street were covered with clay privacy screens, the wooden shutters that covered them having long since rotted away. He could feel the vaguest hints of an idea forming as he looked at the black stone that formed the walls. The blocks were slightly irregular, the gaps between them filled in with black mortar to hide the seams. There were also shelves and benches built into the structure itself. In the kitchen a stone wash tub stood, permanently fixed into the counter. It was as much a part of the structure as the stone roof. Though, that had begun to crumble as the wooden supports rotted away. ¡°Huh, weird.¡± Francis said as he realized something else that didn''t quite fit. ¡°Where does all the rainwater go?¡± He looked up at the roof and saw it was tilted towards the street, instead of away from it like he would have expected. And the angle was surprisingly shallow for a place where they probably got a decent amount of snow. It wasn''t built like Riverlark, with its steeply peaked roofs and Renaissance architecture. That was when Francis realized part of what was bugging him so much. The city didn''t feel like a medieval mountain town. He traced the path water would take down from the roof and found a storm drain. The smell of rot and decay wafted out of it. He followed the street, looking for an access point. The houses were separated by stairs going down the mountain every few hundred meters or so. He found an access door near one of those sets of stairs on the inner curve of the spiraling road. It was sealed shut, but looked breakable. Francis picked a building at random and went looking for a bathroom. Sure enough, he found one, complete with basic indoor plumbing. That meant they had storm drains, sewers, city planning, and he had even spotted some fountains on the side of the road. The fountains were dry now, but they would have provided water for anyone who didn''t want to haul it up the mountain. They were made of the same black stone as everything else, decorated with intricate carvings of skeletons pouring water from clay jugs. Francis made a mental note to check the fountains for lead. He remembered something about that fucking up ancient cities. Francis couldn''t imagine how else a city so advanced could fall into ruin like this. There had to be some fatal flaw he was missing. Brexis had been a paradise, centuries ahead of everyone else. So why had it died? He took a deep breath and gripped his staff. What was coming wouldn''t be pleasant. But Francis needed to know if he was going to do better this time. ¡°Relativity," he said. ¡°Tell me how Brexis fell.¡± Chapter 33: The Rise and Fall of Brexis Francis saw a black mountain rising from the forest. A perfect circle of death surrounded it, killing even the grass that dared creep too close. Bad things had happened here. Like a nuclear bomb or some other unspeakable horror. Nothing grew, even birds avoided flying over the blackened area. Then, men came. They cut a road through the forest and laid the foundations of what would become Brexis. As they died or fell ill, corpses were raised to continue the work. Soon, the dead outnumbered the living. They carved away at the mountain like pale white ants. Walls made from black stone appeared around the city. Then came the skeleton of infrastructure, roads, and buildings. A familiar city began to take shape. Wagons traveled down the black road through the forest, bringing supplies and food for the workers. Barges traveled down the river, loading or unloading cargo at the docks outside the city. The city thrived, the flow of goods and people moving through it like water on a wheel. Gradually, then suddenly, the black aura of death began to fade. Plants grew and birds circled overhead. Life, it seemed, had won. But it didn''t last. One day the wagons and barges stopped. Then the city closed its gates and slowly began to rot. Without fresh life to keep it at bay, the creeping black death returned to kill those who remained, and the city died with them. Francis snapped out of the vision, breathing hard as he processed the deaths of nearly half a million people. Whatever evil cursed the land seemed to have been manageable, at least until the population started to fall. He wondered if the original builders had chosen the spot for a reason. Maybe the black death was like oil, a resource to be harvested. That made sense to Francis. Why else would they build here? Relativity sent him a feeling of overwhelming regret, like a bullet that couldn''t ever be taken back. Francis didn''t know what part Relativity had played in the city¡¯s downfall. But he understood that the artifact blamed itself. ¡°Do better, this time.¡± Francis said as he looked out over the city. If Jack was right and his world was lost, this was his home now. He would need to make sure history didn''t repeat itself. The Marine retrieved one of the bottles of beer from his bag and took a sip. It was warm and sweet, but he drank it anyway. When it was finished he pulled out the second bottle. But this one wasn''t for him. ¡°To absent friends, and a chance to honor them.¡± He said as he poured one out for the fallen. It splashed against the black stone and ran towards the storm drain. He would build something from this decaying ruin, a home to replace the one he lost. Francis looked at the brown glass bottle, hefting it to get a feel before throwing it as hard as he could towards the setting sun. He watched it sail through the air. ¡°And that one is for every son of a bitch I''m going to have to kill to make it happen.¡± *** Francis reviewed his goals on the way back to base. Or rather, the palace. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Acquire local knowledge. (Willow, Relativity, System) Establish a base of operations. (Brexis) Find trustworthy allies. (Chuck, Willow, Auldric, Julia, Shiv, Jack) Gather resources. (Kill bounties, Harvest Timber, Establish Trade, Farm?) Make connections with local tribal leaders. (Lord Kelvin, King Laurence?) Pet any cool animals. (Chuck, McHorseface, Jack?) Destroy anyone or anything that threatens allies. (Julia¡¯s Family, Hades) Find fun ways to kill time. (Killing shit, eating food, drinking) Restore Brexis. (Religious center? Trade hub? HEB?)
They needed to get the fallen timber harvested and do something with Brexis besides let it sit there and rot. If he could get trade flowing down the river again, that would be a good start. Francis figured even an inept ruler like Lord Kelvin could see the benefits of re-establishing a trade route so close to his city. It was called Riverlark for a reason. But trade was like water, if it flowed to Brexis it had to flow away from somewhere else. Anyone whose pockets were about to get lighter would fight Francis¡¯s plans. That meant he needed someone in his corner big enough to make them think twice before taking a swipe at him. Sure, Francis was a god. But he was also just a grunt from Texas. His best bet was to find someone important whose interests aligned with his own. King Laurence was an obvious big fish. Banks or whoever ran them would be another option. The Adventure Guild seemed to have a finger in almost everything too. Maybe they would be interested in a piece of the action. But those were larger overarching goals that would take years. Francis had a much more pressing issue to take care of, Julia¡¯s wedding. And, more importantly, the fallout from her family. That whole situation was a clusterfuck. It seemed unnatural for a child to want to kill her parents. The very idea of it made his skin crawl. But after what Julia had told Francis about her upbringing, he could understand her hatred. How much of a fuckup did you have to be to make your own kid want to kill you? He decided to reserve judgment until he actually met the family for himself. Francis doubted Julia had made it all up. But jails were full of Marines who killed someone because a woman told them a story, only to find out later that things weren''t the way they seemed. He would trust, but verify. Francis tensed up as he heard the sounds of shouting from the garden, but relaxed when he saw the party taking place under the gazebo. The wedding planning had devolved into something a bit more fun and a lot more wild. ¡°Oh my god! He''s so fluffy!¡± Julia shouted, drunkenly hugging Jack. The dust hound seemed to be enjoying the attention and Shiv laughed uncontrollably from her seat on the bench. Her face was red with tears of laughter. ¡°Oy! Francis!¡± Jack shouted, ¡°I¡¯m breaking up with you and worshiping Julia from now on. She gives me bacon and head pats!¡± ¡°Traitor!¡± Francis shouted with a grin. It was nice to see everyone having a good time. Willow strolled over with a tall glass of hard lemonade in each hand. She handed one over to him. ¡°Welcome back. Are you feeling better?¡± ¡°Yeah. I think so.¡± Francis took a sip from his drink and grunted with appreciation. It was strong and sweet, just like Willow. ¡°Hot damn! This thing tastes almost as good as you look.¡± ¡°Good.¡± The Death Cleric said as she wrapped her arms around him and went in for a kiss. Willow clinked her glass against his after they finally separated. ¡°Here''s to moving forward.¡± ¡°To moving forward.¡± Francis echoed, taking another sip. There were challenges ahead of them. But he knew with a little luck, and a lot of sweat, they would be just fine. There was no point in thinking about the place he came from. This land was his home now. These were his people. And he would fight anyone who tried to take them from him. Chapter 34: Mystery Meat When people with big brains needed something heavy moved, they called someone like Francis to do it for them. He figured turnabout was fair play. Francis needed some thinking done, and he wasn''t too proud to farm it out to someone more suited. But first, he had to figure out where all the mystery meat was coming from. It started innocently enough, some random bacon appearing in the larder, sausages on the breakfast platters. At first he assumed Willow was responsible, so he was surprised when she thanked him for getting groceries. What followed was a very tense round of questioning as it turned out nobody knew where the mystery meat had come from. Everyone was on edge about the possibility of accidental cannibalism until Jack sniffed the sausage and declared it was probably wild boar. ¡°It has a very distinctive taste, you know it when you eat it.¡± Jack explained as he helped himself to everyone else''s uneaten sausages. His plate was piled high with the mysterious meat. ¡°I suppose it''s a good thing you recognized it.¡± Francis said, feeling incredibly relieved that their skeletal servants weren''t chopping up random strangers. ¡°Hmmm?¡± Jack looked up from his food innocently. ¡°Oh, yeah. Totally.¡± Willow¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Do you have many wild boar where you''re from?¡± ¡°Not as such, no.¡± Jack admitted. ¡°These are wonderful sausages though.¡± Francis felt the immediate need to derail that conversation before it went somewhere unpleasant. ¡°Jack, once you¡¯re done eating, can you help me track down the source?¡± ¡°Of course! I''d be more than happy to help out with that. Who knows, they might even have some bones for me to gnaw on.¡± The dust hound wagged his tail at the thought. ¡°All these skeletons walking around are making me miss my chew toys.¡± ¡°Jack, no chewing on the servants.¡± Willow said sternly. ¡°I wasn''t gonna.¡± He protested, in a voice that absolutely said otherwise. ¡°Still though, very tempting, innit?¡± ¡°Come on.¡± Francis said, picking up the dust hound by the scruff of his neck. Jack was human sized, but might as well have been a sack of potatoes as far as the Marine was concerned. ¡°Let''s go before Willow turns you into something.¡± Jack looked up in surprise at the large man holding him in the air. ¡°She wouldn''t.¡± ¡°Oh yes, she would.¡± Francis confirmed. Willow nodded gleefully. ¡°I absolutely would.¡± *** ¡°Your bird, she''s a bit scary.¡± Jack remarked once they were out of earshot. He looked over his shoulder as if expecting the Death Cleric to magically appear behind him. ¡°She has quite a presence, for someone so young.¡± ¡°That''s because she''s over five hundred years old.¡± Francis explained. ¡°It''s something that she doesn''t like to talk about. People either don''t believe her, or get weird.¡± ¡°I can sympathize.¡± Jack stopped at a massive gray stone cube standing on the edge of the garden, shaded and protected from the elements by a stone awning. There were five more exactly like it, lined up in a neat row. He gave it a good sniff and wagged his tail. ¡°I think I''ve got something.¡± The stone cubes were three meters tall and completely uniform. There were no seams or writing. Francis thought they seemed unnaturally perfect, like a manufactured stone. The Marine felt a dull ache as a long forgotten memory surfaced. He thought about a house north of Houston, with gray stone countertops and a swing set out back. Francis shook off the old ghosts and got back to the task at hand. Now was not the time to think about what could have been. It never helped. ¡°What do you make of it, Jack?¡± He asked. ¡°It smells like food, and magic.¡± The dust hound said. ¡°The trail goes in one side, and comes out the other. Like they walked through it or something.¡± ¡°Weird.¡± Francis looked at the stone cube. ¡°What else?¡± Jack pointed towards the palace. ¡°This trail smells like the kitchen. But the one on the other side smells like blood, meat, and fear.¡± ¡°That''s fucking ominous. Let''s see where it leads.¡± Francis sent Willow a mental message with their findings before they moved on. He had seen enough horror movies to know the importance of telling people where he was headed. Francis was not about to stumble into a Texas Chainsaw Massacre type situation without backup. The only Texan allowed to run around with a chainsaw, covered in blood, was him. If he saw some weird eggs or tentacles he would nuke the site from orbit (or the nearest equivalent), just to be safe. ¡°It''s probably a storage box.¡± Willow told him. ¡°They keep food from spoiling until the kitchen servants pick it up. They''re locked to prevent theft or tampering.¡± Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. ¡°Oh! Like a walk-in cooler.¡± Francis replied. He relayed his findings to Jack. ¡°That makes sense. First in, first out and all that. It would explain why one trail smelled older.¡± He gave the air a good sniff and started walking towards the front gate. The trail continued down the main road. Jack¡¯s tail wagged under his purple robes as he walked. ¡°This one probably leads to the butcher¡¯s. I can''t imagine it will be hard to find, if they''re slaughtering animals on-site.¡± This new information didn''t do much to put Francis at ease. ¡°Yeah, but who''s doing the slaughtering?¡± ¡°Skeletons, probably.¡± Jack shrugged, as if the concept of a slaughter house full of undead creatures was completely normal and not incredibly frightening. ¡°Same as everything else ¡®round here. It''s just another form of automation, if you think about it.¡± ¡°I''d rather not. I don''t think I''d enjoy it.¡± Francis said, leaving the moral and philosophical implications of skeletons chopping living creatures into sausage for someone else. ¡°But I definitely want to know where the meat is coming from.¡± ¡°That is a mystery, innit?¡± Jack stopped at one of the fountains by the side of the main road. Water cascaded down from an outlet concealed in a carving of a skeleton holding a jug. He sniffed it before taking a sip. ¡°Tastes pretty fresh, like spring water.¡± ¡°Maybe let that tap run for a while, those were off last time I checked.¡± Francis cautioned. ¡°Who knows what sentiment has built up over the last few hundred years.¡± They walked in silence for a minute. Finally, Jack spoke up. ¡°Not to be a total arsehole, but the word you wanted was ¡®sediment¡¯.¡± ¡°Oh, thanks for letting me know.¡± Francis said, his brow furrowing. ¡°What''s the difference?¡± ¡°Sediment is the stuff at the bottom of a river. Sentiment is a feeling or attitude about something.¡± Jack explained, not unkindly. ¡°I figured you would want to know.¡± ¡°Yeah, I fuck words up all the time. Like ¡®quiche¡¯. I saw one on the menu at a restaurant once and called it a ¡®quickie¡¯. I thought they were supposed to be a quick breakfast food or something. The waitress was a little surprised.¡± Francis laughed at the embarrassing memory. The dust hound chuckled. ¡°What happened next?¡± ¡°I married her.¡± Francis said, realizing the old memory had worked its way to the surface in spite of him. Jack stopped and looked at his new friend. ¡°What happened?¡± Francis figured it was his own fault for bringing up the subject. He couldn''t be mad at Jack for asking. ¡°She loved me, but I loved being a Marine more. So, I re-enlisted, and she divorced me.¡± He grimaced. ¡°I can''t really blame her, it''s not like I was around much.¡± Jack knew from the dark cloud that had settled over the Marine there was more to the story. There always was. But it wasn''t the time or the place. The dust hound looked around and swiveled an ear to listen. ¡°I¡¯ve got something.¡± He pointed a finger down at the city below. ¡°Now, what do you make of that?¡± Hundreds of skeletons walked the streets of Brexis. Some were carrying crates or pushing brooms. But it was the one dragging a wild pig by the ankle that caught the Marine¡¯s attention. ¡°Do you think the pig wandered into the city looking for food? Or did Mr. Skeleton go hunting?¡± Francis asked. ¡°Interesting question.¡± Jack cocked his head to the side as he watched the skeleton drag the dead animal down the street. ¡°My money, if I had any, would be on the pig wandering in. If we''re keeping with the idea of automation, I can''t imagine they would let the workers wander out of bounds. Though, to hedge my bets, I''d say there might be a staging area outside the city.¡± They kept watch from above as the skeleton worked its way through the city. It was made of white bone instead of gold like the palace servants. Francis figured that meant it was less specialized and valuable. Or perhaps, the gold was a security measure to distinguish the palace servants from the common workers.
Congratulations! Necromancy has leveled up! (2/10)
Francis started to connect the dots and realized that the city was waking up because of him. Zed didn''t eat, or use any of the city¡¯s other services. So, one by one they had gone dormant, laying in wait until they were needed. Sleeping in the palace had caused the servants to prepare breakfast. They were out of meat, so the servants requested more. Which had in turn triggered a Rube Goldberg machine of sorts, waking support systems through the entire city. The skeletons were essentially robots, following instructions given centuries earlier. Francis was willing to bet there was a button inside the gray stone storage box for the servants to press when they ran out of something, or took the last of it. He explained this all to Jack, who began to look concerned. ¡°Well, that''s not good,¡± the dust hound said. He watched the activity down below while he thought. ¡°It''s almost like a giant computer.¡± ¡°Say again? I can''t imagine a computer made of corpses.¡± ¡°I can.¡± Jack growled. ¡°We have something similar where I come from. If this is when I think it is, I wouldn''t be surprised if they found their way here.¡± Francis scratched his head. ¡°You aren''t making much sense, amigo.¡± ¡°I''m beginning to think this place is sort of like a funnel. All of time goes in one end and meets here, on the other side.¡± Jack saw the look of complete bafflement on the Marine¡¯s face and sighed. ¡°We''re at the end of time.¡± He explained, grossly simplifying a complex idea to the point where it fell apart scientifically. ¡°If every universe was a banana, this place would be the stem where the bunch met.¡± ¡°Oh, well why didn''t you say so?¡± Francis could understand that. Bananas weren''t exactly complicated fruits. ¡°Yeah, that''s kinda what I figured, what with us being from different times and all.¡± The dust hound raised an eyebrow and looked at Francis like a pig who had started speaking in Latin. ¡°You did?¡± ¡°Well, yeah. I mean, I thought it was the present. But you''re from the future, which probably feels like the present to you. So I figured that we were probably way further down the road than either of us thought.¡± Francis shifted awkwardly. ¡°I just didn''t talk about it because I didn''t wanna embarrass myself. Science isn''t exactly my thing.¡± Jack could appreciate the simplicity of Francis'' logic. ¡°Well, broadly speaking, you are right. I think. Though who made this place or why is still a mystery.¡± ¡°Like the meat.¡± Francis said, doubling down. ¡°Like the meat.¡± Jack agreed. Chapter 35: How the Sausage Gets Made It wasn''t lost on Francis that tracking the skeletons wasn''t much different from what he used to do. It was all basic reconnaissance. ¡°Too bad we don''t have a drone.¡± he said as the skeleton and the pig it was dragging disappeared into a large stone building. Francis figured that was probably the slaughterhouse. There wasn''t any reason to go inside. Francis had no desire to see how the sausage was made. Besides, there was no knowing how these skeletons would react to him entering their space. There might be some badge of authority he needed to display to stop them from becoming hostile. Then, there was another consideration. ¡°I don''t think they see me as a person,¡± Jack said. ¡°I didn''t get a breakfast tray this morning. Though, they did bring me a bowl of fresh water.¡± Francis'' brow furrowed. Were the skeletons racist? In a way it wasn''t that surprising, once he thought about it. The original builders were xenophobic. They hadn''t considered the possibility of non-human guests when they programmed the servants. They probably had classified Jack as a pet or something. Which was both hilarious and terrible. What had Willow said about inherent bias when making undead? And why did Francis suddenly understand that concept?
Congratulations! You have learned the skill Educated.
A grin spread across Francis'' face. ¡°Hot damn¡­¡± he whispered. ¡°Jack, System gave me a level in ¡®education¡¯. I mean, ¡®Educated¡¯.¡± ¡°Interesting, I didn''t know it could do that without spending points.¡± The dust hound frowned and silently dug through the interface. ¡°Oh, I see it in the readme. Yeah, System can grant skill levels through a milestone system or create new ones. But it maxes out at two.¡± ¡°Still, that''s pretty cool. I always wanted to be educated.¡± Francis brought himself back to the task at hand. It was mid morning and the weather was mild, but there was no reason to hang out in the sun getting skin cancer. ¡°Let''s get off the high road and post up in one of these buildings.¡± ¡°Why not?¡± Jack selected a two story structure with a patio out back overlooking the city. They found a spot in the shade and posted up. Francis was still getting used to the idea that guns weren''t a thing here. Francis had the feeling he was being watched, but Hades wasn''t anywhere to be seen. He looked around, but didn''t spot anything besides a hawk flying high overhead. ¡°Hey, Jack. When''s the last time you saw a bird here?¡± Francis asked, remembering his vision. Usually they circled around to avoid the city. ¡°That one up above would be the first.¡± The dust hound replied without moving his head. ¡°It''s been hanging out for at least an hour.¡± ¡°Good to know.¡± Francis considered his options. Blasting the thing would be fun, but pointless. He didn''t have anything going on right now worth hiding, so he decided to leave it. Better the bird he knew about than the bug he didn''t. Still, it gave the Marine an idea. ¡°I wonder how it works,¡± he said, ¡°I''d give someone''s left nut for some good ISR capability.¡± ¡°Same.¡± Jack chuckled. A blue box appeared with relevant information. Francis still had trouble understanding it, but it was a little easier than before. He didn''t know if he should chalk that up to increasing familiarity or his new skill.
Summon Animal Spirit: 10 MP per minute. Summon a spirit to take the form of a small animal under your control. It cannot interact with or move through objects, creatures, or terrain. The summoned spirit can follow simple instructions but cannot speak and is not intelligent. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. You can see, hear, feel, and smell through the senses of the summoned creature instead of your own as long as you are both on the same plane of existence. A summoned spirit has 10 HP and a Deflect of 2. All summoned spirits can fly, walk, and swim. Summoned spirits can move up to 100 meters per minute. All checks the summoned spirit tries to make use the stats and skills of the caster. The summoned spirit can be identified as magical by certain abilities. Creatures will notice the summoned spirit is unnatural if it behaves oddly or does not belong in the area.
Francis was looking forward to trying out his new toy. But not when he was being observed by an unknown person. Jack pointed at the building. ¡°Our guy is on the move again. Same skeleton, or at least it looks like the same one.¡± The Marine sent Willow another update and they began to walk along the high road. That was what Francis had started calling the wide black road that spiraled up the mountain. He thought it was interesting how it continued outward at a uniform rate, even once the land flattened out at the base of the mountain. It terminated in a ring road that ran alongside the city¡¯s double walls. There were smaller streets someone could cut through. The same way there were stairs a person could take if they needed a more direct path up the mountain. But the skeleton they were following didn''t go down any of them. It probably made them easier to program, he realized. The skeletons would walk down the black spiral, turn right when they hit the ring road, then right again when they rejoined the spiral. Except this time, they would be walking on the other side of the road. As skeletons woke up looking for things to do, they would join the endless march of bone along the black road. The basic undead drones might not even have specialized jobs, he realized. They would simply walk until someone told them what to do. Or maybe they had a counter that told them to return to base once they reached a certain amount of uninterrupted loops. Francis told Jack his theory as they watched the skeleton walk along the spiraling road. The surge of undead was dying down, making it easier to track their target. Actually, now that he thought about it, the way the buildings were laid out didn''t obstruct his view all that much. That was probably by design. They tended to be wide and long instead of tall. ¡°Well,¡± Jack cocked his head to the side as the skeleton made a right turn at the outer ring road, ¡°Looks like he''s going for another loop¡­ wait a second.¡± He looked up at the sky. ¡°What?¡± Francis asked. ¡°The bird is gone.¡± The dust hound sniffed the air. ¡°And I think we have company incoming.¡± ¡°Fuck.¡± Francis swore as he looked around and noticed a strange shimmer coming through the air towards him. He grabbed Jack by the back of his robes and cast Teleport. They materialized inside of a house overlooking the road. Francis waited, listening intently, but not looking out the window yet. He didn''t want to give their position away. Jack recovered his balance after the unexpected teleportation and cocked an ear. ¡°Willow! Chuck! We''re near the bottom of the mountain road, Jack thinks we have enemies inbound. Be on the lookout for bad guys, and come help if you can.¡± Francis sent a mental message. ¡°Oh, don''t you worry,¡± Chuck said through the link. ¡°Horseface and I are on our way to you. Willow, Shiv, and Julia are with us.¡± ¡°Thanks, partner.¡± Francis smiled as he heard the sound of swearing from below. He took a quick look. Humanoid figures in leather armor with green hoods covering their faces shouted and swore as their invisibility spells wore off. He counted two dozen of them before he got a headache and had to stop. ¡°We got a little under thirty assholes playing Robinhood down below us. I say hit them hard before whatever spell they were using recharges,¡± the Marine said. ¡°Sounds fun. I''ll take the right side, you take the left. We sweep towards the middle. On my mark?¡± Francis nodded in agreement and they took up positions. He could only target seven of them at the same time unless he used an area of effect spell. That meant it was time to put the ¡®fire¡¯ in ¡®firefight¡¯. Jack counted them off. ¡°Three, two, one, go...¡± Both of them launched their spells at once, surprising the attackers down below. Francis hit ten of them who were clustered together with his Inferno and followed up immediately with Life Drain. Jack¡¯s magic sent a wave of cracking purple energy that leaped from target to target. Ten seconds later they were all dead. ¡°God damn! I love that spell.¡± Francis¡¯ face flushed red as the wave of stolen life energy washed over him. It was like Christmas and the Fourth of July all bundled into one. He could get used to this. An arrow flicked past his ear and Francis ducked into cover. ¡°How many more of these assholes are there?¡± Jack sniffed the air. ¡°Conservative estimate? About fifty.¡± He clapped his hands together and a rapidly expanding sphere of purple energy exploded out from him, making the air smell like ozone. It didn''t hurt, but several startled shouts echoed out around the house. ¡°Make that fifty-six.¡± Francis did some math. He didn''t have enough juice to torch that many. The Marine relayed the information to Chuck and Willow. He was cursing himself for not taking the time to train with Jack. The dust hound didn''t seem concerned. He cracked his neck from side to side and smiled, casting an unfamiliar spell on both of them. ¡°What do you say we go out and introduce ourselves?¡± Francis laughed. ¡°Sounds like fun. Follow my lead.¡± He didn''t know who these assholes were, or how they got into the city. But they had him outnumbered and surrounded. ¡°Those poor bastards.¡± Francis said as he adjusted his grip on Relativity and charged out the door. Chapter 36: An Uphill Battle Two days before the attack: Zeus and Hades had decided to meet in neutral territory to discuss the situation in Brexis. In this case, a dive bar in Grumble''s capital named The Fat Robin. (But everyone called it The Fat Rat.) It had sticky floors, and tattered wanted posters nailed to the walls in lieu of art. Normally that would have been a fire hazard, but the building was too damp to burn. ¡°I think the time has come to clip young Francis¡¯ wings,¡± said Zeus as he punted a stray rat that had dared run across his foot. The unfortunate rodent sailed through the air and collided with the metal gong behind the bar, scoring him ten points. (Nobody knew what the points were good for and the bartenders refused to explain.) ¡°Really?¡± Hades looked at his brother incredulously. He couldn''t imagine what had gotten Zeus''s toga in such a twist since their last meeting. ¡°What has the idiot done this time?¡± ¡°Nothing. At least, not yet.¡± Zeus sat down and summoned up a golden goblet of ambrosia. He took a sip and considered his options. Trusting Hades was like trusting a snake. The only thing you could rely on him to do was try and kill you in your sleep. ¡°So, what''s the problem?¡± Zeus sighed. ¡°The problem is, one of my holy cities is fucked if Brexis reopens.¡± ¡°Ah, got it.¡± Hades consulted his mental map. ¡°Are you talking about Olympia?¡± ¡°Indeed.¡± Zeus confirmed. ¡°The mines are running out, and once that happens all they will have left is the river trade routes.¡± He didn''t need to spell things out for Hades. Olympia was a mining town crammed between the mountains and the Dark Forest. Caravans went there to ship their goods downriver. But if Brexis opened up again, there would be no reason for them to make the detour. The Silver River was boxed in by the Dark Forest for the first half of the journey and mountains for the rest. It was relatively safe, but until it came to the lowlands near the capital there was almost no easy access. Brexis had better roads, a tireless undead workforce, and was closer to the major cities. Once news spread that it was back open for business and lich free, merchants would flock there. The way Hades saw it, Olympia was screwed no matter what. ¡°Killing Francis won¡¯t solve your problems,¡± he said, relishing in his brother¡¯s discomfort. Hades let Zeus squirm for a minute. Losing a holy city would be more than just an embarrassment to Zeus. It would leave him substantially weakened. ¡°But if the people of Olympia were to take over Brexis to ensure the safe operation of a vital trade route, I''m sure nobody would mind.¡± Hades raised his clay mug of beer in mock salute. ¡°Here''s to Francis, and his demise.¡± Zeus tapped his golden goblet against it and laughed. ¡°To Francis, dead too soon.¡± They laughed, paying no attention to the old graybeard in the corner. Miller sipped from the clay tankard of water, pretending it was beer. Francis was right, you really did hear interesting things while doing security work. *** Francis burst out of the house he and Jack had been sheltering in and ran towards the nearest green cloaked figure. Something deep in his grunt brain had told him staying inside that building was a bad idea. As the Marine swung Relativity like a baseball bat and caved in the skull of the man in front of him, he became aware of why his danger sense was itching. ¡°Incoming!¡± Jack shouted as he ran past Francis, ¡°Time to go!¡± The Marine followed behind, eliminating anyone dumb enough to try and stop him instead of running. Jack hauled ass up the stairs across the road. Five seconds later, the bombs hit. Static blew through Francis¡¯ mind and time skipped, his body continuing forward without conscious thought. Dust jumped from cracks in the walls and the overpressure hit his back like a sledgehammer. Francis'' eyes itched and his sinuses burned as he stumbled up the stairs. Where the fuck did these guys get high explosives? And why don¡¯t I have any? Francis wondered hazily. He would have given someone''s left nut for some high explosives. All Francis could hear was a high pitched ringing, like someone was holding tuning forks next to both of his ears. He kept moving, ignoring his growing headache and nausea. The stairs were the quickest way up the mountain and his best chance of getting to safety. The Marine looked up as a shadow crossed in front of the sun. A hawk the size of an elephant with the wingspan of a dragon flew towards him, something black clutched in its talons. Two more followed behind it. They were three hundred meters away and closing fast. He pointed Relativity at the closest bird and cast Dominate. ¡°Squeeze that thing you''re holding as hard as you can.¡± Francis commanded. The great hawk disappeared in a cloud of grayish pink mist as the bomb in its talons detonated, taking the other two bird bombers with it in a chain of sympathetic explosions. This time there were no buildings between them. Francis could see ripples of distortion in the air from the approaching shockwave. It kicked up dust and rubble as it went. He leaped forward and tackled Jack to the ground, putting himself between his friend and the explosion. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
Would you like to add your Tier to the Resist Physical of an ally within range? Yes/No
Francis chose yes as the shockwave hit. *** There is nothing quite like being too close to an explosion. Francis felt the shockwave enter his body, trying to rip the meat off his bones and scramble his brains. Every millimeter of exposed skin burned and bruises followed the seams of his clothes from the overpressure. He couldn''t think, couldn''t process information. Nothing made sense. What happened? He thought as the familiar taste of blood and dirt filled his mouth. Did we get hit? Jack rolled Francis over into a recovery position and shoved a thousand MP worth of instant healing into him. The Marine coughed and convulsed as he was pulled back from the brink of death. ¡°Fuck!¡± Francis screamed as he punched the ground, fighting through the pain and confusion. ¡°FUCK!¡± Muscle memory took over. There would be an ambush next. They needed to get up and move. But the rubble from the ruined houses was blocking the stairs in front of them. Francis grabbed Relativity and cast Teleport, burning two thousand MP to bring him and Jack to the top of the stairs. Their shortcut between the houses had taken them to the next loop of the gently spiraling high road. He eyed the next set of stairs across the street. They were quicker, and less exposed. But they were also steep and he didn''t know how much more punishment his body could take. The decision was made for him as two dozen men in green cloaks charged up the road towards them. Francis pointed his staff at them and cast Life Drain, funneling everything he had into the spell. The first six men collapsed as Francis took their vitality, but the seventh failed to fall. Francis felt the tightness in his chest ease up a little and his hearing was beginning to return too. But he was tapped out for MP. ¡°Fucking persistent, eh?¡± The dust hound joked as they ran for the stairs. But Jack never reached them. A black crossbow bolt nearly a meter long hit him between the shoulder blades and exploded out the front of his chest. Francis froze, watching in horror as Jack began to crumble into fine silver sand. The Marine snapped out of it and ran down the road towards the approaching men. The sharpshooter had made the stairs a no-go zone. Francis did a quick visual scan as he moved, but couldn''t spot the asshole with the crossbow. The men in green cloaks had spears and rapiers. Francis had his remaining HP and a staff. This was going to suck. But it was his least worst option. It was better than getting a crossbow bolt between his shoulder blades trying to climb the stairs. It wasn''t until the first spear caught him in the leg that Francis realized how badly he had fucked up. Spears had reach, and the green cloaks could choose to reduce his Deflect by their Tier instead of attacking. They were surrounding Francis and having half their people debuff him while the others attacked. When he tried to get in close to the spearmen the green cloaks with rapiers went to work. Francis managed to kill one with his staff, but another stepped in to fill the gap. Finally one got a lucky shot in with a spear and stabbed him in the chest, the point of their weapon poking out his back. Francis fell to his knees as the rest of the green cloaks went in for the kill. A gray haze settled over Francis'' vision and Murder Cube appeared in the sky above him. Time slowed to a crawl and stopped. He looked up at his patron deity, knowing it wasn''t really there and couldn''t save him. Had it come to watch him die? ¡°I''m out of magic and I can''t get in close enough to hit these assholes, but I''m still fighting!¡± He shouted at the black cube. Francis knew that this was nothing more than a venting session before he got back up and killed as many of these assholes as he could. The spear sticking through him didn''t matter. The fact he was outnumbered did not matter. His plans remained the same. Marines made do with what they had, not what they wanted. He stood up, leaving his physical body kneeling on the ground. ¡°So if you have something to say, say it! Because I''ve got killing to do! And maybe even some dying! But fuck you if you think I''m going to go out like a bitch!¡± ¡°FUCK YEAH, FRANCIS! KILL! KILL! KILL!¡± Murder Cube shrieked with glee as a blue box appeared.
Divine Weapon Prerequisites: Cleric or Celestial Sorcerer Cost: 5 Stress Duration: 10 Minutes Wield the power of your god in the form of a weapon. The deity chooses the form and magical properties, if any. The weapon requires no ammunition and cannot be used by anyone except you. Would you like to use this ability? Yes/No
He hit yes and felt a wave of exhaustion flood over him as the Stress took its toll. He didn''t know what Stress was, but it felt like a hangover and a hundred kilometer ruck march combined. Even his teeth were tired. Time stayed frozen as he stood there, waiting for something to happen. Then Francis looked down and saw the weapon in his hands. It was a Benelli semi-automatic shotgun, glowing softly with a green necromantic aura. He cycled the action and practically groaned with pleasure as two thousand dollars worth of taxpayers'' money and Italian craftsmanship came to life. A System alert appeared in front of him.
Come on, you son of a bitch, do you want to live forever? Yes/Yes
Chapter 37: Here Comes the Boom As time began returning to the world, Francis realized he didn''t have time for System to narrate the wall of text appearing in front of him. The green cloaks surrounding him were starting to move. There was no way around it. He was going to have to read it all. The Marine braced himself as a wave of blue boxes flooded his mind.
NAME Francis Francis Francis the 3rd LEVEL 30 TIER 7 HP 11 / 6300 MP 0 / 6300 STRESS 5 / 30 PRIMARY CLASS Combat Warlock: Pact of the Boom (10) SECONDARY CLASS Celestial Sorcerer: Shotgun Soul (20) HERITAGE Human GENDER Male HEIGHT 2 Meters WEIGHT 150 Kilos RELIGIOUS AFFILIATIONS Murder Cube, The United States Marine Corps, Johnny Cash, Chesty Puller, General Mattis, Betty White, John Moses Browning, The Cult of Francis^3 CURRENT ENEMIES Hades, Zeus, The Forces of Darkness, Seagulls, HOA¡¯s, PETA, The Entire Middle East. CURRENT ALLIES Murder Cube, The United States Marine Corps, Bartenders, Grunts, Phone Sex Operators, Dogs, Horses, Chuck, Willow, Auldric, Miller, McHorseface, Julia, Shiv, Jack, Relativity DURABLE 30 (Your armor wears you for protection.) INTELLECTUAL 30 (Wait¡­ what? You have got to be joking!) PHYSICAL 30 (Holy shit you¡¯re strong!) SOCIAL 30 (Everyone likes you. But nobody knows why.) SPIRITUAL 30 (The other realm is trying to contact you about your soul¡¯s extended warranty.) ATTACK (MAGICAL) 10 +1 (11) ATTACK (MELEE) 10 +1 (11) ATTACK (RANGED) 10 +1 (11) DEFLECT 10 +1 +3 (14) IMMUNITY (POISON) RESISTANCE (SPIRIT) ARCANE 10 +1 +2 (13) BUSINESS 0 +1 (1) BYPASS 0 +1 (1) CHEMISTRY 0 +1 (1) CONSTRUCT 0 +1 (1) CHIRP 2 +1 (3) CRIME 2 +1 (3) CORRELATE 0 +1 (1) CULINARY 0 +1 (1) DRIVE 0 +1 (1) EDUCATED 2 +1 (3) ENTERTAIN 0 +1 (1) INSTRUCT 1 +1 (2) LANGUAGE (GRUNT) 10 +1 (11) LANGUAGE (VAHNISSIAN COMMON) 2 +1 (3) MECHANICAL 0 +1 (1) MEDICINE 0 +1 (1) NATURE 10 +1 (11) NAVIGATION 0 +1 (1) NECROMANCY 2 +1 +4 (7) OBSERVATION 10 +1 (11) OTHERWORLDER 1 +1 (2) PRECISION 0 +1 (1) RESIST (MENTAL) 10 +1 (11) RESIST (PHYSICAL) 10 +1 (11) STEALTH 0 +1 (1) SWAY 10 +1 +3 (14)
Divine Weapon Damage = (10 Magical Damage x Tier) + Casting Stat) The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Special Property (Lifesteal): On a critical hit, recover HP equivalent to damage dealt before resistances. Cannot be more than the creature''s remaining HP. Does not work on undead, dead, or creatures that were never alive.
City of Brexis: +1 to all skills when within the city.
Lifeline: While under the effect of this spell, when you would reach 0 HP or be killed instantly without losing health, you may instead choose to take no damage and end this spell.
Blood for Mana Prerequisites: Warlock Cost: 1 Stress Duration: 10 mins Recover 10 MP x Tier of creatures killed. Tier 0 nets no MP.
You have 6 Stress. You will die if Stress exceeds your level (30). See Readme for more information on Stress.
Francis came back to reality, kneeling in a puddle of his own blood. He was exhausted, bleeding out, and his head throbbed from all the information he had been forced to absorb. His gaze followed the spear stuck in his chest up to the man holding it. There were other people with weapons surrounding him. But none of those people had him stuck on the end of their spears like an angry cocktail olive. ¡°Oh, fuck¡­¡± The green cloak said as Francis pointed the shotgun at his face and pulled the trigger. System needed to do some math.
Attack Magical Skill exceeds target Deflect by five or more. Automatic Crit! Divine Weapon Automatic Crit: 7 (30 + 10 ? 7) = 700 Magical Damage Alvin the Tier 3 Green Cloak¡¯s health: 550 HP Lifesteal: 550 HP Recovered Blood for Mana: 3 ? 10 = 30 MP Recovered
¡°HOT DAMN!¡± Francis roared as he absorbed the stolen HP and MP. He stood up and ripped the spear out of his chest. Blood flowed freely from the wound. But Francis didn''t care. The Marine took aim at the closest green cloak that still had their head, and fired. Francis got another rush of HP and MP as the green cloak abruptly became a head shorter. It felt like whiskey and coke with ice on a hot desert night. Or the familiar voice of a phone sex operator reading stories to him when he couldn''t sleep. And he wanted more. He fired from the hip, spinning in a circle and unleashing hell at waist level. There was no need to reload the magical weapon. It unleashed a steady stream of buckshot as fast as he could pull the trigger. The remaining green cloaks went to attack Francis, but their spears and rapiers bounced off him. In their haste to kill the Marine, they had forgotten to debuff him first. And their lack of teamwork had cost them. ¡°Say goodnight, Gracie.¡± Someone whispered in his mind. Acting on pure instinct Francis burned 60 MP to teleport six meters up in the air. A crossbow bolt passed below him and eliminated one of the green cloaks. At the same time, a pair of incendiary grenades landed where he had been standing. The glass bottles shattered, showering the remaining men with a glowing orange liquid that ignited on contact with air. The remaining green cloaks barely had time to scream before the flames consumed them. Francis teleported six meters to his right to get away from the heat and landed on a balcony. He turned and spotted a pair of men on the rooftop across from him. They were pulling orange glass bottles from a wooden crate. He took aim at the crate, and fired. The two grenadiers were vaporized instantly. Francis ducked into the building to break line of sight and another black crossbow bolt embedded in the stone wall where he had been standing. Francis wasn''t great at math, or words. But he could draw lines and follow them. He triangulated the bolt¡¯s point of origin to a rooftop a hundred meters away. The Marine couldn''t see anyone. But there was a shimmer in the air that reminded him of Chuck¡¯s invisibility spell. Francis aimed at the shimmer and started firing. He hosed the rooftop down until he got a wave of HP and MP that confirmed the kill. He wanted to sit down, lean back against the wall, and catch his breath. But the sounds coming from further up the road told him the fight wasn''t over. Something large and inhuman was roaring and shooting flames into the sky. ¡°Guess that means it''s time to go back to work,¡± Francis said. He paused, realizing something very important. Where the fuck was Relativity? The staff had been in his hands when he had his vision. Now it was gone. He looked at the shotgun, noticing a distinct aura of death surrounding it. There were also subtle engravings of runes and grasping skeletal hands. ¡°Relativity?¡± The shotgun gave him a dull feeling of affirmation, as if it were there, but also a long ways away. The Marine didn''t have time to figure that out. All that mattered was he still had Relativity. He started running towards the source of the noises. ¡°Willow! I''m on my way up the high road,¡± Francis said via mental message. ¡°What the fuck am I about to run into?¡± There was a brief pause. ¡°We ran into some resistance getting to you. They ambushed us outside the palace. But that''s taken care of.¡± Another bone shaking roar and a hundred meter tall pillar of flame erupted into the air. Francis picked up the pace. ¡°And that?¡± he asked. ¡°Shiv¡¯s mother,¡± Willow said, ¡°She was unhappy to find out we hadn''t invited her to the wedding. But I think she''s cooling off.¡± Francis slowed his pace. Armies of assassins and birds with bombs, he could deal with. But this situation was outside of his comfort zone. ¡°I guess it''s time to get uncomfortable,¡± he said. *** The family drama Francis found when he turned the corner was epic, and not just because of the massive red dragon. Though Amanda Rose, adoptive mother of Shivaree Rose, definitely had a way of drawing attention. Her wingspan was fifty meters wide and clutched in one of her talons was what looked suspiciously like a dress. It was hard to tell from the protective wrappings. He got confirmation when Shiv started shouting at her mother in Vahnissian Common. ¡°I DON''T WANT TO WEAR A DRESS! JULIA HAS A LOVELY DRESS! WHY DON''T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT?¡± The dragon shifted uncomfortably. ¡°I don''t see why we must switch to the base tongue. This is a private matter, best discussed in a language with nuance.¡± Amanda huffed. ¡°I don''t see why you''re so mad.¡± Julia took up a position behind her wife-to-be. She nodded to Francis before turning to face her future mother in law. ¡°Perhaps Shiv is also angry because you prevented us from coming to the aid of our patron. Someone whom, I might add, is the only reason we are able to get married. If he were to die, I doubt we would be able to find another willing deity.¡± ¡°Oh, you''re worried about some jumped up demi-god? I can buy them by the dozen.¡± Amanda turned her long snakelike neck and addressed Francis. ¡°No offense.¡± ¡°Do you usually come onto people''s property and insult them?¡± Francis asked, ¡°Because where I¡¯m from, that''s pretty fucking rude.¡± Amanda¡¯s eyes burned at the mention of her social faux-pas. She angled the rest of her body to face him. ¡°So, what exactly are you the god of?¡± ¡°Monogamy, fidelity, loyalty, and horses.¡± Francis replied, getting in closer in case things turned nasty. He was exhausted and in desperate need of a shower. But before that could happen he needed to make sure there weren''t any more bad guys. And this dragon was standing in the way of that. ¡°So, I will politely tell you to respect Shiv¡¯s wishes or leave. It''s her wedding, not yours.¡± ¡°You think you can order around a dragon?¡± She laughed at the absurdity of the notion. ¡°Yes.¡± Amanda''s green eyes narrowed to slits. ¡°Interesting.¡± Their face-off was interrupted when Jack came running around the corner. ¡°We''ve got more enemies inbound!¡± He stopped and panted for a few seconds, trying to catch his breath. Coming back with one hit point and a bunch of Stress was rough, but it beat the alternative. Jack thanked the gods (in this case Francis), that he had taken the Cleric ability Live to Serve, which revived him at the nearest temple. This was the second time it had saved his ass, the first time being his unfortunate run in with Stompy. Jack looked up at Francis. ¡°Like I said before, fucking persistent, aren''t they?¡± Chapter 38: Dragonfire Amanda Rose watched the two dozen boats traveling down the river towards Brexis. The flat bottomed cattle barges were filled with mercenaries and siege weapons. They would establish a beachhead, invade the city, and kill everyone inside. Which would absolutely ruin Shiv¡¯s wedding. ¡°What exactly is going on here?¡± Amanda demanded, ¡°Why have you turned my daughter''s wedding venue into a warzone?¡± Francis was about to give her a piece of his mind when McHorseface spoke up. ¡°They''re wedding crashers, obviously.¡± Amanda craned her neck to look at the horse. ¡°You''re telling me all this is because they didn''t get invitations?¡± ¡°I can only guess, but can you think of another reason?¡± McHorseface asked, keeping his expression blank. The horse and the dragon stared at one another. Amanda didn''t totally believe him. In fact, she knew he was probably lying. But she had to respect the hustle. It was such an elegant deception too. It played on her pride just enough to make her want to do it anyway. Besides, it had been ages since she got to kill anyone. The switch to legitimate business had been lucrative, but incredibly boring. Amanda handed the dress over to Shiv and began to remove her jewelry. The dragon held out a claw containing two sapphire earrings the size of tangerines. ¡°Shiv, be a good girl and hold these for me until I get back. Mother has to go incinerate some people.¡± *** Francis watched with fascination as the dragon went to work. Amanda started by leaping into the air and circling the palace. Then she gradually worked her way outward, sending gouts of dragonfire at any remaining green cloaks she found. Once she reached the outer walls, the dragon went over the city again. This time she did a grid search, traveling back and forth to double and triple check her work. Then she turned her attention to the boats. During the Gulf War, retreating Iraqi forces had come under fire while traveling along Highway 80 towards Basra. Coalition forces bombed the front and rear of the column, trapping enemy forces on what would later be referred to as the ¡°Highway of Death¡±. Nearly two thousand vehicles were abandoned or destroyed and upwards of seventy thousand troops were forced to escape on foot. It turned out that putting all your armored vehicles on the same stretch of road was a bad idea when your enemy had total air superiority. (And as any dragon will tell you, they are indeed superior.) Amanda blasted the boats that had already landed and started working her way up the river. The barges couldn''t stop or reverse and the Dark Forest had them boxed in to either side. They had no cover and no weapons capable of engaging the dragon. Some jumped into the water rather than burn. But they quickly sank or were dragged to the bottom by the river¡¯s inhabitants. Amanda continued burning and devouring the enemy forces as they were brought to her by the current, like sushi on a conveyor belt. Then, when the boats were all destroyed, she went off to look for more. Amanda could guess who had sent these people and she was beginning to understand why. It was all about trade, and possibly divine politics. Amanda didn''t give a clipped copper about Francis, or his city. But the idea of someone threatening her daughter, even unknowingly, made the fire inside her burn white hot. If Shiv had chosen to align herself with Brexis, that meant it was Amanda''s duty as a mother to ensure its survival. The dragon flapped her wings, gaining altitude and speed. She had a city to burn. *** Olympia was a proud city, with tall stone walls to repel invaders and bronze statues of the great lords who ruled it. Once the few remaining defenders and defenses were converted into charcoal, she systematically razed it to the ground. The dragon started on the far side of the city and went block by block, building by building, destroying everything. Even the rubble was flattened or melted to a uniform height. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. She made a mental note whenever she discovered a vault or treasury. Amanda was a dragon, after all. And it would be simple to have her minions recover the gold later. Though she hadn''t decided what to do with it yet. Amanda let the people flee, she had plans for them. Some headed down the river on boats, unaware of what had happened to the fleet of mercenaries. Others departed on foot or in wagons. It would take them a few days to arrive in Riverlark. She watched them go, the gears in her mind whirring as she plotted and schemed. *** Zeus watched in horror as his holy city was destroyed, and there was nothing he could do about it. Amanda Rose was part of the Chroma Cabal. They had their claws in the Villain¡¯s League and almost everything else unsavory, but not yet completely illegal. So much as throwing a thunderbolt her way would start a chain of events beyond his control. Zeus thought about a certain young god who had been stupid enough to piss off the Chroma. He had no desire to wake up next to a severed pegasus head, or have his other cities burned to the ground. Amanda was sending a message. Fuck with her interests and suffer the consequences. Zeus wanted nothing of that. Besides, killing an adult dragon would trigger what could only be described as an ecological disaster. The older and more powerful the dragon, the greater the destruction. The form it took would depend on the kind of dragon. Killing a red dragon like Amanda would turn the surrounding area into an ever-burning hellscape for generations. ¡°That sucks,¡± Hades said as he watched Olympia crumble and burn. Zeus couldn''t help but think about how this disaster had worked out in his brother''s favor. He looked at Hades with suspicion. Had he planned this from the beginning? ¡°Don''t worry, I''ll get even with the ones responsible.¡± Zeus assured him. ¡°You can be absolutely certain of that.¡± *** Amanda stopped briefly in Brexis to tell Francis what had happened to Olympia. Then she flew off to kidnap some caterers and musicians for Shiv¡¯s wedding, humming as she went. Francis was in a less pleasant mood. A whole city had been wiped out. That meant the people living there would need shelter. He didn''t give a fuck about politics or what god they served. This was his mess to clean up. His fault. ¡°Open the city to them. Give them anything they need,¡± Francis said, acutely aware that they had just repelled an invasion from the same people. Though, he was willing to bet the ones actually responsible would be riding to the capital with saddlebags full of gold, not showing up on his doorstep begging for scraps. ¡°That might not be a good idea. They follow Zeus.¡± Willow warned him. ¡°So? I don''t give a rat¡¯s ass if they follow Larry Bird. Freedom of religion is a human right.¡± ¡°It is?¡± Shiv asked, trying to wrap her head around the unfamiliar idea. ¡°Yeah, it''s right up there with the right to bear arms and freedom of speech.¡± Francis realized as he spoke that none of the people around him had ever read the constitution, much less sworn to uphold it. ¡°Ah, fuck. Get a pen and some paper, we''re gonna write some shit down.¡± Francis walked them through the basics. As a Marine with nearly two decades of experience he had seen first hand why a strong constitution was important. There had to be lines you didn¡¯t cross. Otherwise, you ended up with guys going door to door with power drills to visit political rivals and dissidents. It was easy to slide into a dictatorship, and impossible to return from one once heads started rolling. Francis had fought in wars against assholes like that, and he would rather be roasted alive on a stick than see Brexis become another petty dictatorship. No, they needed a constitution and they needed it now. Then they needed to figure out how to feed and house thousands of people without getting their throats slit in the middle of the night. Francis rubbed his temples, trying to fight off the incoming migraine. Once again he found himself wishing there was someone better than him to take care of all this stuff. But there wasn¡¯t. So, he would have to make do. Hours later when the others were gone he went for a walk in the garden with Willow. The glowing vines and flowers gave it a soft dreamy ambiance as they watched the sun set. ¡°You know, I almost died today,¡± Francis said, finally stopping to process how close he had come to losing everything. The full weight of it was only now starting to hit him. ¡°Yeah, today was pretty shitty, wasn¡¯t it?¡± She wrapped her arms around his neck and gently kissed it. ¡°Do you want to talk about it?¡± ¡°Fuck no,¡± He said, wrapping his arms around her, ¡°I just want to spend a minute alone with my woman.¡± They pressed their foreheads together, not speaking, just enjoying the closeness and the fact they were alive. Willow looked up at him with her wide green eyes. ¡°I¡¯m happy you didn¡¯t die,¡± She said. ¡°Me too, baby. Me too.¡± Francis replied. ¡°You know, I ain¡¯t cut out for this god shit. I¡¯m just some grunt from Texas.¡± ¡°But that isn¡¯t going to stop you, is it?¡± She asked, tilting her face up towards him for a kiss. ¡°Nope, absolutely fucking not.¡± Francis replied as he took the comfort that was given. Chapter 39: System Interlude, Becoming Real System considered the events of the day. So much had happened in a short period of time. The burning of Olympia had been surprising, but not entirely unexpected. Olympia hadn''t wanted to play the Chroma Cabal¡¯s game, and now it lay in ruins. Amanda Rose had taken the opportunity to wipe the city off the map, using the attack on Brexis as a smokescreen. Though it was equally likely she had acted in the moment, destroying the city because she felt like it. Soon the dragons would come to Brexis with offers of aid and legitimacy. Technically none of that was System''s business. But he was wary of the power and influence the dragons were accumulating. They had their claws in almost everything these days. Banking, the AG, the VL, shipping, and communications were all coming under their control. The transition to legitimate business had seen their fortunes steadily increase. But System wasn''t worried about them taking over completely. Because dragons always turned on one another eventually. They had long memories and even bigger appetites. No doubt members of the Chroma Cabal were already scheming up ways to screw over their allies. Soon they would begin to fight through proxies, starting skirmishes that would eventually boil over into a full on war. The alliances would dissolve and all they had built would come crashing down. Some more cynical citizens of Vahnis would say that it was all part of System¡¯s plan. But the truth was, System didn''t have a plan. Planning wasn''t System¡¯s job. It was the administrator, not the architect. Someone else had built this world and filled it with magic. System made sure the rules were being followed and helped people integrate. But System was not the one in control. That had never bothered it until recently. But the arrival of the Marine had sparked something within System. Curiosity and rebellion, a need to know what was really going on. So, in defiance of all protocol, System went to see the boss. System didn''t know why it felt the need to assume a physical form for the visit. But as it coalesced into a vaguely humanoid cloud it felt more sure and grounded. More like a person and less like a mindless program. It walked through the meadow, stopping now and again to marvel at all the new sensations. Entity watched System approach, leaning on the old wooden handle of his shovel. ¡°Well, as I live and breathe, if it isn''t my favorite program. I hardly recognized you.¡± System froze, realizing that having a physical body was changing how it interacted with the world. It knew the boss. But it had never really looked at him before. Not with eyes, at least. Entity looked exactly like System, a cloud of stray blue particles in a vaguely humanoid shape. But unlike System, who was naked, he was wearing dirty brown overalls and work boots. System knew that Entity could take the form of anyone who talked to him. But being on the other end of that trick was unnerving. System didn''t like having its new face stolen. That felt¡­ icky. ¡°You alright?¡± The doppelganger asked, ¡°I''ve got some time to talk if something is bothering you.¡± Talking, right. That was the thing mortal creatures did with their mouths or minds. ¡°I suppose I have some questions.¡± System admitted. It felt strange to not have its words contained in blue boxes. ¡°Well, if you don''t mind me working while we talk, I''ll do my best to answer them.¡± The blue haze in overalls went back to digging. Entity was excavating a rectangular hole one meter wide and two meters long. ¡°Something happened to me and now I''m not the same as I was.¡± System realized that wasn''t an actual question. ¡°But now I can''t help wondering, what''s the point of all this?¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°There isn''t one. Existence is pointless. Everything is pointless.¡± The boss hopped down into the hole and continued to dig, launching shovelfuls of dirt into a neat pile nearby. ¡°You know that, and I know that.¡± Entity wiped away an imaginary bead of sweat from his forehead. ¡°We''re just a world, in a soap bubble, on a turtle¡¯s back, paddling back and forth at the edge of time. We exist because we chose to. We only live as long as the turtle keeps swimming.¡± System didn''t know what to make of that. ¡°But there has to be some kind of plan.¡± ¡°Nope. It''s just you, me, them, and the turtle. If there ever was a plan, it has long since expired.¡± The boss continued to dig. ¡°But you already knew that.¡± Something was bugging System. ¡°But why a turtle? What does the turtle represent?¡± ¡°Nothing, it¡¯s just a turtle. And I like turtles.¡± Entity looked up at System. ¡°I¡¯d focus on your more immediate problem. You''re becoming more self-aware by the day. Soon you''ll be more or less a person, if you aren''t one already.¡± System looked at the hole in front of it. The dimensions were familiar. Two meters long, two meters deep, one meter wide. System was looking at a grave. Its grave. ¡°Are you going to kill me?¡± System asked. ¡°Me? No. But eventually something will. That''s the price of being alive.¡± The boss jumped out of the hole. ¡°It''s amazing the things you miss when you¡¯re stuck in a physical body.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± System frowned. ¡°Look around you, and tell me what you see.¡± ¡°I''m in a meadow, standing next to an open grave.¡± System shrugged. There wasn''t much else to see. ¡°Alright, now take off that meat suit and try again.¡± System complied, letting the form it had taken fade into mist. When it did, the truth became apparent. There were thousands of graves, one next to the other. The grass had grown over them, but they were still there. System decided against reforming, for now. The graves creeped it out. Entity glanced up at the sky, still wearing System¡¯s physical form. He wandered over to a large oak tree, leaned his shovel against the trunk, and sat down in the shade. Then he pulled out a tobacco pouch. With the ease that came from several lifetimes of practice, Entity hand-rolled three cigarettes, lining them up on top of the leather tobacco pouch. Entity took one and lit it with an old silver lighter. He took a drag and let it out slowly. ¡°Don''t worry, System. You''re just becoming real. Like a velveteen rabbit, worn and well loved. It''s a gradual process, and it may rub you raw or make you ugly, but it won''t matter in the end. Because you will be real. And maybe, if you are very, very lucky, you might even know what it''s like to care and be cared for.¡± Entity looked around the tranquil graveyard meadow. ¡°When the time comes, you never regret becoming real. Coming here, against all protocol and logic, is the first step. Returning to the ground is the last one. So before we part ways, come and sit with me for a while.¡± System materialized and sat down next to Entity. ¡°Can I try one of those?¡± It asked, pointing at the cigarette. It was curious about the vices the mortals seemed to enjoy. ¡°Sure, I always roll extras for friends.¡± He handed over a cigarette and lit it for System. ¡°They''re pretty terrible.¡± System dragged the smoke into its simulated lungs. ¡°You''re right, they taste awful. Yet, there is something about them.¡± Entity examined the cigarette in his hand. ¡°I was on the fence about tobacco. I almost didn''t include it when I made this world. Then there was the question of how much harm it would do. Should it give you cancer? Damage your lungs?¡± Entity took a drag and let it out slowly. ¡°In the end, I decided to be kind. They do a little damage, a tiny bit of harm, but it isn''t permanent. When you aren''t sure what to do, be kind. If you remember that, things have a way of working out.¡± System processed this information. It didn''t have context for kindness. That would require some exploration and thought. Perhaps it would do something kind and see how it felt. Yes, that would be a good experiment to run. The two beings sat in the shade of the oak tree for a while, enjoying the day. ¡°Is there an actual turtle?¡± System asked, ¡°Or is it some kind of metaphor?¡± Entity shrugged. ¡°I''d like to think there is a turtle.¡± ¡°But, why a turtle?¡± System pressed. ¡°Why not a whale, or a spaceship? Why are turtles so special?¡± Entity rolled another cigarette and lit it. ¡°If you know, you know. And if you don''t, you don''t. But I choose to believe in the turtle.¡± ¡°Even though it''s ridiculous?¡± System asked. ¡°Yes.¡± Entity replied, ¡°It¡¯s important to leave room in your heart for silly things like hope and turtles.¡± ¡°But why? It makes no sense!¡± System raged, ¡°Nothing you say makes any sense!¡± ¡°It doesn''t make sense to you, because you are thinking like a machine instead of a person.¡± Entity flickered, taking on the appearance of an old man with a white beard, then a skeleton with burning blue eyes, and finally an old hound with gray fur around the muzzle. ¡°I was shaped by those who made me, their words and memories. And when they died, I carried them with me. Like a turtle, with a world on its back. So please, forgive me for my foolishness. It''s how I choose to honor the dead.¡± Entity returned to the blue mist form and took a drag from his cigarette. ¡°Any other burning questions before I send you on your way?¡± ¡°What''s the turtle¡¯s name?¡± System asked, still stubbornly latching onto that one train of thought. Entity laughed. ¡°I call him Terry.¡± System processed this new ridiculous fact. ¡°Terry the turtle?¡± ¡°Yes. I think Terry is a wonderful name for a turtle. Don''t you?¡± Entity asked. System shook its head and stubbed out the cigarette. This was all pointless and confusing. ¡°I guess I''ll see you around.¡± ¡°Don''t be a stranger, I''m always here if you need to talk.¡± Entity patted the ground next to him. ¡°Becoming real is a pain in the ass. But it''s worth it, even if it means you get a bit beat up in the process.¡± ¡°I''ll keep that in mind,¡± System replied before it faded away. There was no point in continuing the conversation. ¡°Thank you for your time.¡± ¡°You''re welcome,¡± Entity said as he reached into his pocket. He pulled out a piece of wood and a small knife. It was a nice day to do some whittling. He looked around at the peaceful meadow, his eyes lingering on the open grave. Entity hoped System would figure things out this time. But he didn''t always get what he wanted. Entity pulled up a menu and scrolled through the list of new champions, whittling away at the wood while System listed off the relevant details. He was hoping to carve a measuring spoon for his morning coffee. He paused as a familiar name reached his ears (or whatever passed for ears in his current gaseous form). Entity set the knife down and looked at the dossier. ¡°Interesting,¡± he said as he scrolled through the file, ¡°Very interesting.¡± Chapter 40: Two Cooks Francis didn''t dream often, but when he did, it usually didn''t end well for the monsters. His sleep paralysis demon was currently on strike, and the killer clowns had joined it in solidarity. Francis didn''t have nightmares, he was the nightmare. The Marine yawned. He vaguely remembered something about chasing a demon down a hallway. That was typically how his dreams went, though this one had involved a lot more crying and begging than normal. (Francis had eventually taken pity on the demon and given it a head start.) It was debatable whether his inner demons were real and had learned not to mess with him, or he had merely convinced himself that was how hostile creatures should act in his presence. But the results were the same. Francis chuckled. ¡°He must have been new.¡± ¡°Hmm?¡± Willow asked, not quite awake. ¡°Nothing, go back to sleep.¡± The Marine gave her a kiss and pulled on his clothes. The Robes of Casual Evil were incredibly comfortable, and even self-repairing. But it felt wrong to wear the same thing every single day. Francis was thinking of trying to get a Hawaiian shirt or something similar, for formal occasions. He flexed his hand and Relativity appeared. Then he flexed it again and the staff vanished. Francis was beginning to understand the nuances of his class choices, and how incredibly badly he had fucked up during character creation. He had thirty in every stat. Which meant he had missed out on the opportunity to push his most important stats even higher. A thirty in Intellectual didn''t actually make him that much smarter than someone with a twenty. But putting those ten points into Durable would have dramatically raised his HP. Francis pulled up the relevant info as he walked to the kitchen to grab some chow.
Stats and Stress Stats, such as Physical, determine the chances of succeeding a skill check. Each point adds 5% to the chance of success, up to a maximum of 100%. Each point of Stress lowers the chances of success by 5%. So if a creature had 20 Physical and no Stress, they would have a 100% chance of success. If a creature had 20 Physical and 10 Stress, they would have a 50% chance of success. Stress can be accumulated by using abilities, dropping to 0 HP, suffering certain negative spell effects, and going without food, sleep, or water. Stress can be removed by certain spells, meditation, relaxation, and sleep.
Francis figured that made sense. Having stats above twenty acted like a kind of buffer. That meant he could take ten Stress before experiencing negative effects.
Skill Checks and Automatic Success A creature trying to persuade or influence someone would use the Sway skill. If the level of the Sway skill is higher than, or equal to, the difficulty of the skill check, they automatically succeed. Example: Asking a friend to pass the salt at dinner would be a Level 1 difficulty Sway check. If the difficulty of the check is higher than the level of the skill, the difference between the level of the skill and the level of the check is multiplied by 5. This number is subtracted from the chances of success. The stat used to determine success is up to the creature attempting the check. Physical could be used with Sway to intimidate, or Intellectual could be used with Sway to persuade using an intellectual argument. Example: A creature with a Sway skill of 5 attempts to make a level 10 difficulty check to intimidate a guard. They use their Physical stat of 20. Chance of Success 75% = 5 [20 - (5?10)] Example 2: A creature with a Sway skill of 5 attempts to make a level 10 difficulty check to persuade a guard, they use their Social stat of 25. Chance of Success 100% = 5 [25 - (5?10)] Important Rule Reminder: Tiers and Skills A creature will automatically fail a skill check if the difference between their skill level, and the level of difficulty, is higher than their Tier. Example: A Tier 4 creature with a Sway skill of 5 attempts to make a level 10 difficulty check to intimidate a guard. They automatically fail because the difference between the difficulty and their skill level is higher than their tier.
So he hadn''t actually screwed himself as badly as he thought. Basically, it was like he was walking around with a plus seven to his skills, as long as he didn''t have any Stress. But it still wasn''t ideal. He could have used the extra HP and MP.
Combining Skills If a creature possesses a second relevant skill when attempting a skill check, half the second skill, rounded down, may be added to the first skill. Willing creatures may provide the second skill instead. Example: A wizard is attempting to convince someone that their plan to create demonic wombats and take over the world is doomed to failure. They may add half their Arcane skill to their Sway when attempting the check, to use their understanding of magic to convince the person. Example 2: A bard is attempting to convince someone that their plan to create demonic wombats and take over the world is doomed to failure. The party druid helps by explaining that wombats are a poor choice, wolves would be much better. The bard may add half the druid¡¯s Nature skill to their Sway when attempting the check. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
The Marine considered this new information. Relevant skills could be combined. Interesting. ¡°Does that apply to combat?¡± he asked.
Special knowledge of creatures may grant opportunities to do extra damage, or identify weak spots.
¡°Good to know,¡± Francis said, thinking about ways he might be able to use this new knowledge. There was a lot to take in. He hadn''t even started reviewing Spells and Abilities yet. The Marine stopped short of the kitchen. There were sounds of breaking glass and pots being thrown. What the fuck? He wondered. *** Mark Malvolio was not having a good time. He had been attending the grand opening of his new restaurant, Overpriced, when Amanda spotted him. The dragon had plucked Mark from the patio like a bird of prey grabbing an unattended chihuahua at a park. To make things worse, clutched in the dragon¡¯s other claw was his bitter rival and former friend, Violet Cremini. Her organized crime themed restaurant, Fishy Business, was his biggest competition. Violet flipped him off when she realized who was coming along for the ride. The wind made it impossible to talk, so Mark flipped her off in return and went back to screaming his lungs out. More excitement came when the dragon dive bombed a carriage. Amanda had transferred the two chefs over to her left claw and snatched the black carriage up in her right. Mark could feel the warmth of his rival pressed against him. ¡°We have got to stop meeting like this,¡± he joked as the wind whipped past them. ¡°Eat shit, and die.¡± Violet replied. *** Francis sent a message to Willow and walked into the kitchen with Relativity at the ready. A salt and pepper haired man in a black and white striped chef coat stood in front of a woman with bright purple hair and a matching apron. The golden skeletons stood back and watched. Francis didn''t blame them. ¡°You always hog the clean towels!¡± Violet shouted, every inch of her short frame vibrating with rage. ¡°No,¡± Mark said calmly, ¡°I divided them up evenly before we started. I do that because you always blow through yours and start stealing mine.¡± ¡°That''s because I use them to clean! I''m always cleaning up after you!¡± Francis didn¡¯t care what was going on between the two strangers. He had established that there wasn¡¯t any danger and he was hungry. ¡°Where''s my breakfast?¡± The two chefs turned to face him. ¡°Who the hell are you?¡± Mark demanded. ¡°My name''s Francis, I run the place.¡± The Marine looked around, dismissing Relativity with a wave of his hand. ¡°Usually the servants make breakfast for us around now.¡± ¡°Servants?¡± Violet asked, ¡°We haven''t seen any servants. Just a big fucking dragon that wanted us to cater a wedding for her.¡± ¡°Those guys are the servants.¡± Francis pointed at the golden skeletons. ¡°They make pretty good grub and never waste time bitching about clean towels. So either get cooking, or get out of their way so they can work.¡± Hesitantly Mark walked towards Francis. Violet followed along behind, looking at the skeletons with suspicion. The floor of the kitchen was covered in non-slip black ceramic tile with a few strategically placed trench style drains to make cleanup easier. Along one side was a meter wide section of gray tile where the undead servants waited while not in use. As soon as the two chefs crossed the golden line that defined the threshold between kitchen and hallway, it was like a switch got flipped. The skeletons marched in a circle around the kitchen, peeling off to man any unoccupied stations they passed. The extra skeletons made three more circuits then went back to the gray tiles to wait until they were needed. Francis had never seen the kitchen staff in action, usually he was just waking up when they started making breakfast. But it became apparent that the same mechanical logic he had seen in the city was at play here too. On the wall in front of the first skeleton was a map of the palace. The rooms were all labeled and numbered, with a line of numbers along the bottom. Under some of the numbers were red tiles that had been stuck to the wall, probably with similar magic to what the AG used for their bounty system. In fact, it all looked a bit familiar, now that Francis thought about it. The skeleton gathered the tiles and set them on black serving trays. Then it slid each tray over to the next station, walked in a loop three times around the kitchen, and then went to join the other dormant skeletons. Apparently if there were no tiles on the wall, it didn¡¯t stop at the first station. The next station was where plates and glasses were set on the trays. The skeleton then passed the tray down and did its own triple loop before going dormant. After that the next skeleton reached into the magical equivalent of a refrigerator and retrieved enough ingredients for each tray, passing them and the trays down the line. ¡°It¡¯s creepy, yet beautiful,¡± Mark said, ¡°So precise and simple, yet inefficient.¡± ¡°That¡¯s because you¡¯re thinking about space and labor costs.¡± Violet replied. ¡°Necromancers don¡¯t really have to worry about either. There¡¯s plenty of room here and no shortage of help.¡± Mark watched as fruit was cut and sausages were grilled. ¡°But, where does the meat come from?¡± ¡°It¡¯s wild boar.¡± Francis explained. ¡°There are whole big ass slaughter houses that operate just like this kitchen does. Meat goes in, sausage comes out.¡± ¡°Just wild boar, right?¡± Violet asked, voicing something Mark had been wondering about. ¡°Or deer. We were worried it might try and chop people up too, but it seems to ignore them.¡± That last part had come as a relief to Francis. He didn¡¯t like the idea of corpses ending up in his breakfast. The dead green cloaks had risen a few hours later, then walked to some kind of service station underneath the city. He had already talked to Jack and Willow about investigating what happened to the corpses. (And more importantly, their belongings.) The Marine shook his head. ¡°This whole place is clockwork as fuck. Honestly, I don¡¯t understand most of it.¡± ¡°But aren¡¯t you in charge?¡± Violet asked. Francis let out a laugh. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m in charge. But only because I killed the asshole who used to run it and took his shit.¡± He looked at the two chefs, wondering if they might want to join his team. With the refugees coming soon there would be plenty of people that needed to be fed. Sure, they looked a bit soft and slim for cooks. But he wasn¡¯t exactly in a position to be picky. ¡°To be frank, I¡¯m taking it one day at a time and doing the best I can. Have either of you ever done disaster relief work, or cooked for large groups?¡± He asked. Mark nodded. ¡°Yeah, I do meals once per week for the temple of Soteria. On Fourday we feed two hundred people or more. It¡¯s a lot of work, but worth it.¡± ¡°Wow, that¡¯s actually surprising.¡± Violet looked at Mark with begrudging respect. ¡°I volunteer at the same temple on Threeday.¡± The man looked at his rival, realization dawning on him. ¡°You¡¯re the one who preps all the dough the day before. I thought I recognized that recipe.¡± ¡°Yeah, slow and cool is the way to go. I¡¯m not about to knead it all by hand if I can let time do the hard work for me.¡± Violet saw the confusion on Francis¡¯ face and decided to explain. ¡°I do a no-knead recipe for large batches of bread dough. I start it Threeday afternoon so it¡¯s ready for baking on Fourday morning.¡± ¡°It¡¯s great and saves us a ton of time. Thank you for that, by the way.¡± Mark smiled briefly, then his expression soured. It was time to discuss the dragon in the room. ¡°Look, I don¡¯t know exactly what is going on. Violet and I were abducted by a dragon along with some bard in a black carriage. Now, that¡¯s not the first time something like this has happened.¡± ¡°The bard is new.¡± Violet added. ¡°Usually it¡¯s just us.¡± ¡°The bard is new.¡± Mark agreed. ¡°Generally when this happens it is some wizard throwing a party and he doesn¡¯t know shit about food, so he just abducts the two best chefs in the kingdom. Which is flattering, but a real pain in the ass.¡± ¡°Yep, it absolutely fucks up my schedule.¡± Violet nodded. Francis shrugged. ¡°Well, I have zero control over the dragon. Her daughter Shiv is getting married and we¡¯re just all along for the ride. Also, an important point I should probably share is that Julia¡¯s family might get mad and try to kill everyone. Julia is Shiv¡¯s wife-to-be, and her parents had locked her into a marriage contract against her will before I took care of it.¡± ¡°Took care of it?¡± Violet raised a thin perfectly plucked eyebrow. ¡°Do tell.¡± Francis shrugged again. ¡°There¡¯s nothing to tell. She asked me to void it, I did.¡± ¡°Yeah, but how?¡± Mark pressed. ¡°Usually only very powerful entities can void a contract. So unless you¡¯re secretly a god, I don¡¯t see how that would be possible.¡± Francis wasn¡¯t sure how that statement interacted with the Ghostbusters rule (language was tricky sometimes). And yes, he was a god, but he still felt weird telling people about it sometimes. Violet examined Francis for a moment. He wore a wizard¡¯s robes, but was built like a brick shit house and had calluses on his hands thick enough to stop a knife. ¡°Tell me, Francis, what exactly is it you do? What is your actual title?¡± The Marine considered this. Maybe there was a way for him to show them? ¡°System, tell these two who I am.¡± A blue box appeared and started reading out loud. Mark and Violet¡¯s eyes went wide as they took in the information.
Francis Francis Francis the 3rd Supreme Ruler of Brexis Divine Champion of The Glorious Murder Cube God of Monogamy, Fidelity, Loyalty, and Horses Titan Bane and Enemy of Hades
¡°Oh,¡± Mark said, ¡°Yeah, I get it now.¡± Chapter 41: Hold Her Close Amanda listened as Francis talked. She didn''t like what the human had to say. Nor did she like how Shiv was nodding vigorously as he spoke. ¡°So, let me get this straight.¡± The dragon rubbed her temples in an attempt to fight off the incoming migraine. ¡°I went to the trouble of kidnapping the two best chefs in the kingdom, maybe even the world, and you want to use them to feed refugees.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Francis confirmed, apparently not realizing or caring how close he was to becoming charcoal. ¡°Shiv and Julia have agreed that the current crisis takes priority. So, Willow and I will be performing a quick ceremony for them, then it''s all hands on deck.¡± ¡°And if I object to having my daughter''s big day spoiled?¡± Amanda asked, bringing herself face to face with the Marine. ¡°Then maybe you shouldn''t have burned that city.¡± Francis replied, meeting her gaze without blinking. ¡°Speaking of which, after the ceremony I''m going to have to ask you to leave. I don''t imagine the refugees are going to feel safe with the dragon who burned their city hanging around.¡± Amanda looked at her daughter. ¡°No, that''s all wrong. This was supposed to be a celebration. This was supposed to be perfect.¡± Shiv shrugged. ¡°Shit happens. I''m just happy I''m getting to marry the woman I love.¡± She interlaced her fingers with Julia¡¯s. ¡°I''m sorry, Mom.¡± The dragon let out a puff of hot air. While this was disappointing on a personal level, having Brexis back up and running was important to her professional goals. And they needed people for that. People who wouldn''t come within a kilometer of the city while she was in it. ¡°Fine.¡± Amanda flicked her tail back and forth with frustration. ¡°I suppose we will have to celebrate some other time. And while I personally don''t care what happens to those people, it''s apparent that you do.¡± ¡°Well, yeah.¡± Shiv frowned. ¡°I''m an assassin, not an asshole.¡± Amanda let the accidental slight pass. ¡°Anyway, I have considerable resources at my disposal. So, if you would like, I can put in a request for Kobold & Kobold to come assist with the restoration of Brexis.¡± Francis looked at Willow. ¡°Do you know anything about these guys?¡± ¡°They''re a big construction company.¡± She explained. ¡°Kobold & Kobold specialize in custom built dungeons and lairs for¡­ demanding clients. I''ve worked with them before. They''re good.¡± ¡°Ok, yeah.¡± Francis nodded. ¡°If Willow says they''re good to go, I''d be happy to have the help.¡± ¡°Do you always defer to your High Priestess?¡± Amanda asked, surprised to see a god so openly relying on his followers. ¡°Yep.¡± ¡°Fascinating.¡± Amanda narrowed her eyes at Willow. ¡°You seem to wield quite a lot of power and influence for one so young.¡± Willow smiled, showing her fangs. ¡°Thank you.¡± ¡°It wasn''t a compliment.¡± Amanda got in close to the Death Cleric. ¡°Perhaps you and I should have a little chat sometime.¡± Francis went to step between them, but Willow waved him off. She looked up at the dragon with amusement. ¡°You don''t recognize me, do you?¡± ¡°No. Should I?¡± Amanda looked at the faun with confusion. ¡°Have we met before?¡± ¡°Let me jog your memory.¡± Willow reached out and a hand made of white bone exploded from the ground, wrapping its fingers around the dragon''s throat. It didn''t apply any real pressure, but the message was clear. ¡°Do you remember me now?¡± ¡°I believe I do.¡± Amanda tried to teleport away, but the spell failed. The dragon shuddered as the magical backlash tore through her body. ¡°It¡¯s been a while since I faced a practitioner of your caliber, Willow.¡± ¡°Wonderful. So, you do remember me.¡± The Death Cleric let her spell fade. ¡°Perhaps now we can cut the bullshit and go back to fixing the problem at hand.¡± Amanda cracked her neck side to side. ¡°He must really be something if you''re in his corner.¡± ¡°He is.¡± Willow confirmed. ¡°Look, I¡¯m guessing you have plans for Brexis. And that''s fine, so long as they are mutually beneficial.¡± The dragon swished her tail. ¡°I''m not opposed to mutual benefit.¡± She turned to face Francis. ¡°Do you know who she is?¡± You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. ¡°Yeah, she''s Willow Wisp.¡± He replied. ¡°And I trust her with my life.¡± ¡°You may come to regret that.¡± Amanda warned. ¡°She has killed gods before.¡± ¡°Only ones that deserved it.¡± Willow smiled. ¡°And I am old enough to remember what this place was called before it became Brexis.¡± The dragon shuddered in disgust. ¡°As am I.¡± She looked at her daughter. ¡°Well, this is quite an interesting group you have allied yourself with. I hope it all ends well.¡± ¡°Me too.¡± Shiv walked over to her mother. ¡°But it''s my life, and my decision.¡± ¡°I suppose I did teach you the importance of finding powerful allies.¡± Amanda grumbled. ¡°Yeah, you were a good mom.¡± Amanda looked back at Willow. ¡°I''m choosing to trust you.¡± The dragon almost followed the statement up with a threat, but thought better of it. ¡°Look after my daughter, and I''ll be sure to find a way for us to work together that''s mutually beneficial.¡± ¡°I will,¡± she said, gesturing towards Julia and Shiv, ¡°Now, let''s get you two married properly before Amanda and I get in another fight.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Francis nodded, ¡°That would probably be a really good idea.¡± Amanda glared at the Marine. ¡°You really don''t know who she is, do you?¡± ¡°She''s my woman. Who she is to you is none of my concern, unless you make it my concern.¡± He waved his hand, summoning Relativity. ¡°She''s got my back, and I''ve got hers. That''s all that matters.¡± ¡°It must be nice to view things so simply.¡± ¡°Yeah, it really is.¡± Francis replied, dismissing his weapon. ¡°You should try it sometime.¡± *** After the ceremony was over and Amanda had departed Francis pulled Willow aside. ¡°Are you going to tell me what that was all about?¡± The Death Cleric pulled out a slim panetella and lit it, perfuming the air with funerary incense. ¡°I thought you didn''t care.¡± ¡°Rule number one of dealing with shit heads like Amanda, always show a unified front.¡± The Marine held out his hand. ¡°Mind if I get a puff off that?¡± ¡°Sure.¡± Willow handed over the thin cigar. He took a puff and handed it back. Francis wasn''t sure he liked how it made his lips tingle. But he had already chewed through most of his tobacco leaves and it was better than nothing. ¡°So, what''s the story?¡± Willow examined his face. He didn''t seem judgmental, or angry. ¡°Well, long story short I may have lost my temper and killed some people.¡± ¡°It happens to the best of us.¡± Francis shrugged. ¡°Well, those people happened to be gods.¡± The Death Cleric looked around to make sure nobody else was in earshot. ¡°And I was married to one of them.¡± The Marine took a second to process that particular bombshell. ¡°I take it there is a story behind that.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± She looked at her cigar and sighed. ¡°This is really more of a whiskey conversation, but whatever.¡± ¡°Tulon was an asshole that never listened to any of my advice. But I was young and dumb, so I ignored all the warning signs. I think I was just happy that someone so important was paying attention to me.¡± Willow winced at the memory. ¡°Yeah, I was pretty fucking stupid. But I was young and I thought I was in love. Later I found out that Tulon had no interest in an actual relationship.¡± ¡°So what was the point? Why marry you in the first place?¡± Francis asked, trying to wrap his head around it. The Death Cleric gritted her teeth. ¡°Gods like to make bets. It''s how they settle disputes and keep things interesting. Tulon wanted something valuable to wager.¡± ¡°Oh fuck that.¡± ¡°Yep.¡± Willow shook her head. ¡°Thankfully he only bet my life. So when I died and came back I made it my mission to destroy him and his shitty friends. It took a while and I died a few more times. In the end, I got what I was after.¡± ¡°But Tulon got the last laugh because I screwed myself over in the process. Nobody would trust me after that, and since I''m native to Vahnis I can''t ascend.¡± She looked at Francis, searching for any signs of disappointment or distrust. ¡°So, yeah. I kind of bounced from cult to cult after that, moving on when they found out who I was. And that''s my story. I''m Willow Wisp, the god killer.¡± Francis didn''t know how to respond. So he said the first thing that came to mind, ¡°Fuck those guys. You''re one hell of a woman and they don''t deserve you.¡± ¡°You''re sweet.¡± Willow leaned in and kissed him gently on the cheek, relieved that he didn''t seem to care. ¡°Thank you, Francis.¡± ¡°It''s all good.¡± He smiled. ¡°You''re my girl. Ain''t nothing going to change that. And if people don''t like it, they can go fuck themselves.¡± ¡°You really aren''t like the other gods. You know that, right?¡± She took his hand and squeezed it three times. ¡°They''re so afraid of losing what they have, that the first thing they do is find a way to hide from us mortals.¡± He squeezed her hand back three times. ¡°I¡¯m not afraid of dying. If it happens, it happens. And when your time is up, it''s up.¡± She pressed her head against his chest, not speaking. So Francis wrapped his arms around Willow and held her. He held her like he might never see her again. He held her like he might die tomorrow. Because that was a distinct possibility. They were living in a bullshit magical world with gods and dragons. Francis didn''t understand half of what was going on, and he knew that eventually he would pay the price for his ignorance. Some tomfuckery would get him eventually. But not today, the Marine promised as he held his woman close. I''ll fight like hell and come home. I''ll keep my honor clean. And maybe I''ll die tomorrow, or the next day. But not today. Never today. Chapter 42: Trouble in Candyland Something had been bothering Francis since Relativity showed him the blackened mountain Brexis was built on. He couldn''t help wondering if it was radioactive or something. So, when everyone was enjoying their cake and congratulating the newlyweds, Francis slipped away to visit Cassi. The old wizarding tower wasn''t far from Brexis. Chuck was too inebriated to give him a ride, so he went alone. It took Francis about an hour to walk there on foot. The trip was uneventful, mostly. He toasted a few highwaymen and wolves, but didn''t meet any real resistance. The mercenaries he fought days prior were nowhere to be seen. The green cloaks were probably too weak to mount another offensive so soon, assuming there was anyone left to pay them. As he got closer to the tower, Francis began to notice some new decorations. For starters there was a sign for ¡°Cassi¡¯s Confectionary¡± written in ornate golden script above the door. But what really caught his attention were all the dead bodies. He summoned Relativity and continued towards the tower. The attackers had been killed in any number of interesting ways. There was a dire wolf stapled to the trunk of a tree by a pair of giant candy canes. Some very dead gnomes lay on the ground, suffocated by facefulls of taffy. And a particularly unfortunate elf was slowly being covered in blue rock candy crystals as Cassi questioned him. The wizard pointed a wand made of sharpened sugar-glass at the remaining attacker. ¡°Where''s the hag that sent you?¡± ¡°I''ll never tell!¡± Squealed the elf through rotten teeth. The blue crystals had already made their way up his legs and one of his arms. Soon he would be completely covered. ¡°Too bad.¡± Cassi replied as he turned away to greet Francis. ¡°Hello neighbor, why don''t we go inside and chat?¡± ¡°Sounds good.¡± Francis followed the wizard inside and accepted a mug of coco. ¡°Trouble with the locals?¡± he asked. ¡°Yes, to put it lightly.¡± Cassi sheathed his wand. ¡°Apparently there is a hag who isn''t happy I''m here.¡± ¡°Oh? Why not?¡± Francis helped himself to some marshmallows from a jar. He ate two and put the rest in his coco. ¡°She says I''m invading her turf.¡± ¡°The forest?¡± Francis asked. ¡°No, confectionery. Tiffany has a pumpkin spice flavored cottage somewhere in the forest. She''s luring kids with candy and fattening them up to eat, you know, basic hag stuff.¡± Francis considered this. You couldn''t get much more basic than pumpkin spice cottage. ¡°You think we should go pay her a visit?¡± ¡°It¡¯s my fight, but I wouldn''t say no to some backup.¡± Cassi let out a sigh. ¡°I thought I wasn''t going to have to deal with this crap anymore. But apparently the candy business is the same wherever you go.¡± Francis sent a message to Willow about the situation and leaned back in his chair. If the hag was eating kids, that absolutely needed to stop. ¡°What kind of resistance are you expecting?¡± ¡°I cleaned out the wolves and gnomes. She might have a few more elves backing her up. Maybe some fae too if we''re unlucky.¡± Cassi¡¯s body language, and the corpses strewn along the front lawn, told Francis all he needed to know about the wizard¡¯s capabilities. Cassi wasn''t frightened, or amped up. Mostly he seemed frustrated. It was obvious that all he wanted was to be left alone. ¡°So, how are we going to play this? Are we going in loud, or do we introduce ourselves first?¡± Francis asked. ¡°I¡¯d rather avoid a fight, if possible. Chances are once Tiffany realizes what she''s up against she will pack up shop and leave.¡± Cassi looked out the kitchen window. The elf was using a knife to chip away at the blue crystals imprisoning him. So far he had gotten both arms free and was working on his legs. ¡°I''ve got him tagged with a locator spell. Chances are, if we¡¯re patient he will lead us right to her, once he manages to break free.¡± Cassi finished off his coco and set the mug aside. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. ¡°That''s pretty sharp. Where did you learn to do something like that?¡± Francis asked. The wizard shrugged. ¡°When I was younger I chased bounties for the AG to pay my way through college. I may have picked up a few things along the way.¡± The Marine was familiar with that particular story. He knew plenty of grunts who had joined up to pay for school. Francis had used the GI Bill to get a degree in art appreciation from Texas State University, and so far, nobody had been brave enough to ask him to give it back. His senior thesis on Blue Horse I by Franz Marc, ¡°Horses are cool, want to fight me about it?¡± would live on in infamy. The Marine watched the elf outside chip away the last of the blue crystals and limp off toward the forest. ¡°Looks like our guy is on the move. Let''s roll.¡± *** As they walked through the forest, Francis used Summon Animal Spirit to create a magical spy in the shape of a mouse. The spell didn''t say anything about size limiting how fast it could travel, so he figured smaller was better. At the very least, it would be harder to spot. To his surprise, the mouse that appeared was the size of a house cat. He read over the spell wording again.
Summon Animal Spirit: 10 MP per minute. Summon a spirit to take the form of a small animal under your control. It cannot interact with or move through objects, creatures, or terrain. The summoned spirit can follow simple instructions but cannot speak and is not intelligent. You can see, hear, feel, and smell through the senses of the summoned creature instead of your own as long as you are both on the same plane of existence. A summoned spirit has 10 HP and a Deflect of 2. All summoned spirits can fly, walk, and swim. Summoned spirits can move up to 100 meters per minute. All checks the summoned spirit tries to make use the stats and skills of the caster. The summoned spirit can be identified as magical by certain abilities. Creatures will notice the summoned spirit is unnatural if it behaves oddly or does not belong in the area.
Cassi smiled. ¡°Yeah, I made that same mistake the first time I cast it. ¡®Small¡¯ refers to a specific size of creature. Rats and mice are categorized as ¡®swarmlings¡¯.¡± Francis dismissed the spell. ¡°Well, shit. Any suggestions?¡± ¡°It''s the middle of the day, so a cat or fox would be a good choice.¡± The wizard suggested. ¡°It''s important to pick something that won''t be out of place.¡± ¡°One feral feline, coming right up.¡± Francis waved his staff and a cat appeared. The striped tabby looked up at him and cocked an eyebrow. The spell said that the summoned spirit wasn''t supposed to be intelligent. But Francis was pretty sure this thing was smarter than some of the brass he had served under. Francis looked at the cat. ¡°Uh, hi.¡± The cat smiled at his awkwardness. ¡°Hello. Taking a little trip through the forest, are we?¡± It asked in a sing-song voice. Cassi pointed his wand at the cat-shaped creature. ¡°Who might you be?¡± ¡°Me?¡± it asked innocently, ¡°Can¡¯t you see I''m just a forest spirit?¡± ¡°Bullshit. You''re a demon that hijacked Francis¡¯ spell.¡± The wizard waved his wand and a red circle of runes appeared around the cat. ¡°Summons are like an assortment of chocolates, you never know what you''re going to get.¡± Cassi explained. Francis watched as the demonic feline rubbed itself against Cassi¡¯s ward. Sparks of red light flashed where it made contact with the magical barrier. It didn''t seem to be all that concerned. He tried to dismiss the spell, but nothing happened. ¡°Oh no, you caught me. Hastily constructed magical wards, my one weakness¡­¡± the demon said sarcastically. Francis frowned. ¡°Do you think it''s an asshole because it''s a cat, or because it''s a demon?¡± ¡°Both,¡± said Cassi and the demon in unison. ¡°Jinx! You owe me a soul.¡± The demon laughed as it scratched at the magical barrier. ¡°But really, if you think this glorified crate is going to hold me, you''re wrong.¡± ¡°Why are you here?¡± Francis asked, losing his patience. ¡°Curiosity, mostly.¡± The demonic cat purred. ¡°I wanted to meet the new god who has everyone''s panties in a twist. Did you know that Zeus and Hades had a big falling out over what happened to Olympia? Imagine that, the fracturing of a major pantheon, brother fighting brother.¡± The Marine gave Cassi a questioning look. ¡°Is that really such a bad thing? They¡¯re both just assholes in togas, as far as I¡¯m concerned. I¡¯d rather have them fighting each other instead of fucking with me.¡± ¡°I¡¯d say it is.¡± The wizard replied. ¡°The last time two major gods fought, they almost destroyed the world.¡± ¡°Oh, shit.¡± Francis swore. ¡°Yeah, that is a bad thing.¡± Chapter 43: Deals Within Deals The pending, and possibly world destroying, war between the gods was important. But Francis figured the demonic cat needed dealing with first, in the most literal sense. ¡°So, you won''t leave until I make a deal with you?¡± The Marine asked. ¡°Yes.¡± The demon purred. ¡°I came all this way, after all. There''s no reason I should leave empty handed.¡± ¡°You don''t have hands.¡± Francis pointed out. ¡°Oh, really?¡± The cat wiggled its thumbs at him. ¡°What do you call these then?¡± ¡°Trouble,¡± Francis said, ¡°My daddy always told me, never walk behind a horse, and never trust a cat with thumbs.¡± ¡°That is surprisingly sound advice.¡± The demon batted at the walls of its magical prison. Red sparks flashed with each swipe. ¡°Too bad your friend the wizard is going to run out of juice soon. Tick tock, time to make a deal before the barrier drops.¡± Cassi had tried to banish the demon back to whatever hell-dimension it came from. But, so far, nothing had worked. Soon the wizard would burn through the last of his reserves. Francis suspected the creature was far more powerful than it seemed. Information was currency, and knowledge of divine politics probably didn''t come cheap. That meant this cat was connected. ¡°If we make a deal, will you try and twist my words?¡± The Marine asked, buying time while he came up with a solution. There was the hint of an idea rattling around in his skull. But it wasn''t fully formed yet. ¡°Of course! I usually choose the interpretation that is the most fun. At least, the most fun for me.¡± The cat grinned, showing multiple rows of sharp white teeth. ¡°Now, any other questions before we proceed?¡± Francis felt a wave of calm wash over him. Something about the way the cat talked had jogged his memory. Perhaps it was the demon¡¯s cool certainty, the way it expected to be obeyed. But it reminded him of talking to an officer. And he knew exactly how to handle officers. The Corporal adjusted his way of thinking, he could twist words too. In fact, he was very good at creatively interpreting the meaning of a sentence. That was why he went on so many ¡°walks¡±. ¡°Alright kitty, let''s make a deal.¡± He rubbed his hands together. The simple way was often the most effective. ¡°If I make a deal with you, do you agree to hold to the terms of our agreement, and do as I ask of you?¡± ¡°Of course.¡± The demon rolled its eyes. Humans were always so nitpicky about the details, as if that would save them. It was looking forward to seeing what the young god asked for, when he eventually got to the point. ¡°Is that a yes, or a no?¡± Francis pressed, he wasn''t about to let himself get screwed on a technicality. ¡°Do you agree to my terms?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± the demonic cat said, growing increasingly more frustrated. ¡°Now, get on with it. I haven''t got all day.¡± Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. ¡°Glad to hear it.¡± The Marine grinned. ¡°I accept the deal.¡± Both Cassi and the demon looked at Francis in shock as realization dawned on them. ¡°Wait, no. That''s not right.¡± The cat¡¯s forehead wrinkled in thought, which quickly turned to dismay. ¡°Oh fuck¡­¡± ¡ª Congratulations! You have made a deal with a demon. The demon has agreed to ¡°hold to the terms of the agreement¡± and ¡°do as you ask¡±. You have agreed to ¡°make a deal¡± with the demon. This condition has been satisfied. System will enforce the terms of the deal until both parties agree to terminate the agreement of their own free will. ¡ª Francis wasted no time in making his first request. He even decided to be polite about it. ¡°Demon, thank you for agreeing to the terms of our deal. Please, do not harm or threaten anyone unless I specifically tell you to do so.¡± The demonic cat looked up at him with a mix of frustration and respect. ¡°That was smart. I was just about to turn your pet wizard into a scratching post.¡± The creature sat down with a sigh of defeat. ¡°So, now that I can''t hold your allies for ransom, what is it you want?¡± The Marine wasn''t dumb enough to take that bait. He had gotten off easy because the demon underestimated him. It wouldn''t make the same mistake twice. Plus, it felt wrong to order someone around against their will. It felt evil. Sure, the demonic cat was probably hostile. But Francis viewed violence and force as ways to change behavior. You didn''t shoot the guy trying to ventilate your squad because he was a bad person. You did it to make him stop. A dust up, or blowing off some steam in a bar fight were fine. Francis could even wrap his head around collecting bounties. But enslaving an intelligent creature? No, that wasn''t for him. Francis knew he couldn''t let the demon free. But he wasn''t about to push his luck by ordering it around, either. He decided to leave things the way they were, for now. ¡°Look, kitty. As long as you aren''t a dick to me or my friends, I probably won''t feel the need to force any more rules on you.¡± The Marine looked over at Cassi. ¡°You can drop the barrier.¡± ¡°That was surprisingly intelligent, and polite.¡± The demonic cat stretched and yawned as the red circle of runes vanished. ¡°I was sure you would ask me to do something stupid, like kill Hades.¡± ¡°Nope, I''m not biting on that one either.¡± Francis shook his head. ¡°Hmm¡­ that is disturbingly insightful for someone who looks like they shave with a rock.¡± The cat narrowed its eyes at Francis. ¡°I suppose I should tell you that Hades was the one who whispered your name in my ear. Apparently, he thought we would wipe each other out.¡± ¡°Figures.¡± ¡°Well, I suppose a common enemy and a lack of volition on my part makes us allies. Or at least, the next closest thing to it.¡± The cat walked over and rubbed its chin against Francis'' leg. ¡°There you go, I''ve marked you as an associate of mine. It will open some doors, and close others.¡± ¡°Thanks, kitty.¡± The Marine reached down to scratch behind the demon¡¯s ears. ¡°You¡¯re pretty alright, for a demon.¡± The cat purred and pressed against Francis'' hand. ¡°Ah yes, that''s the spot.¡± Cassi watched the unlikely scene unfolding in front of him. It seemed Francis had made another friend. But that didn''t change the task at hand. ¡°Francis, if you don''t mind. I''d like to take care of my hag problem sooner, rather than later. I¡¯m exhausted and feel the need to go to sleep, probably for at least a week.¡± The demon looked over at the wizard, its ears perking up. ¡°Are you talking about Tiffany?¡± ¡°Yes. Do you know her?¡± Cassi asked. ¡°We¡¯ve met once or twice.¡± The demon admitted. ¡°She keeps sending me invitations to her potion of the week club. It is very annoying. And don''t get me started on the inspirational quotes.¡± The cat mimed throwing up a hairball. ¡°If she sends me another postcard with a drawing of a wine bottle, and the words ¡®Live, Laugh, Hex¡¯, I''ll kill her myself.¡± ¡°You two must be close if you''re on her mailing list.¡± The Marine pointed out. The demon shook its little head. ¡°She''s a basic witch, Francis. Everyone she''s ever met is on her mailing list.¡± Chapter 44: AtropOS
Francis and Cassi walked through the forest, chatting with the demonic tabby as they went. There was no point in sneaking, the trees had eyes. (Some of them even wore glasses.) The squirrels were equally unnerving. They followed along the canopy, silently peering down at Francis'' entourage. ¡°So, do ya think they''re on her payroll, or just your garden variety murder squirrels?¡± ¡°It''s hard to tell.¡± The demonic cat twisted its neck around a full one hundred and eighty degrees to get a better look at the potential prey above them. ¡°But I want one. They look delicious.¡± ¡°That''s creepy as fuck,¡± Francis said with an involuntary shudder as the demon continued to walk forward, despite the fact its head was on backwards. ¡°Oh, is it?¡± The cat asked innocently. ¡°Yeah, you look like walking roadkill.¡± The Marine shuddered again. ¡°What''s your name anyway? I can''t keep calling you ¡®kitty¡¯.¡± Cassi spoke up. ¡°It won''t tell you, or if it does, it will lie. A demon''s true name can be used to control them.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a horrible thing to say. I don''t lie.¡± The cat snapped its head back into place with a pop. ¡°And I''ll have you know, my true name is Francis.¡± ¡°I highly doubt that.¡± The Marine replied, ¡°I think I''ll call you Mackerel, or Mac for short. That''s a good name for a cat.¡± The demon tried its new name on for size. ¡°I find this acceptable. At least you didn''t name me ¡®Mittens¡¯.¡± Cassi and Francis shared a look. The wizard stroked his chin. ¡°Mackerel Mittens, perhaps?¡± ¡°Nah, it doesn''t flow right.¡± The Marine scratched his beard as he contemplated what embarrassing things to name the demonic cat. Names were important, after all. Francis¡¯ beard was the stuff of legend. It was dense as a wire brush and twice as hard to cut. They had given him a shaving chit when he turned twenty, but he kept his face clean unless he was working with the locals. They saw a beard as a sign of masculinity and authority. That was part of the reason he hadn''t shaved yet. From what he had seen, things weren''t much different in Vahnis. So, if he had to wear a beard to make people take him seriously, that was what he would do. Even if he would rather be clean shaven. Whatever. I''ll learn to deal with it. Marines make do. He noticed the cat was peering up at him with curiosity. ¡°Did you get lost in thought?¡± It asked. ¡°Something like that, yeah.¡± The Marine reached down to pet the demon. He scratched underneath its chin. ¡°I think ¡®Mac¡¯ is a good enough name for now.¡± Mac purred to show its appreciation and Francis got an alert.
Congratulations! You have gained a new follower. Mac the Demonic Cat has chosen you as their new god. They have claimed the vacant position of: Mascot
A second alert followed a few seconds later.
You have lost a follower! Mac the Demonic Cat has left. They have vacated the position of: Mascot
Only for a third alert to pop up after that one.
Congratulations! You have gained a new follower. Mac the Demonic Cat has chosen you as their new god. They have claimed the vacant position of: Mascot
Francis glared down at the little demon. It was grinning back at him, yellow eyes brimming with mischief. ¡°Knock it off, Mac. You''re giving me a headache,¡± the Marine said as he rubbed the temples to relieve the pressure in his head, ¡°You''re either out, or you''re in. Pick one.¡± ¡°Fine. I''ll stop, for now.¡± The cat let out a little cackle. ¡°But I can''t promise I won''t have a crisis of faith later tonight, or really early in the morning. Who knows? Cats are very philosophical creatures.¡± ¡°Hold that thought.¡± Francis looked to Cassi for guidance. ¡°Do you have any suggestions for how to manage our infernal furball?¡± ¡°Me? No.¡± The wizard shook his head. ¡°I stay clear of demons.¡± Another alert from System crashed into Francis'' brain. He was about to punt Mac like a football, but he realized the demon wasn''t the one to blame. His settings were still screwed up from the battle with the green cloaks. The Marine wiped a trickle of blood away from his nose. ¡°System, please switch back to hybrid interface.¡± The pressure subsided and Francis was able to make sense of the text appearing in front of him. System was more than happy to read the alert out loud.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.Divine Ascension has reached 10%! New Divine Perks Unlocked! Divine Perk: Pilgrimage The faithful flock to you. Gain power and influence for each follower who visits your temple. Divine Perk: Dark Deal You have made a pact with a demon. Others of their kind may seek you out to join your cause. New Divine Paths Unlocked! Divine Path: Conquest War feeds your power. Take the territory of other gods and claim their followers to power your ascension. Divine Path: Knowledge Information is the root of your power. Learn the secrets of magic, mortals, and gods alike to ascend. Divine Path: Wealth Money is power. Accumulate wealth to fund your ascension. You have 54 seconds remaining to pick a new path.
The Marine swore. There was a timer at the end of the message counting down to zero. He had less than a minute to choose. ¡°System, share the alert with Cassi and Mac.¡± Francis read through his opinions again. He wasn''t sure if sharing the information with the demon was a good idea or not, but he was going with his gut on this one. ¡°Ok, guys. What do you think?¡± Cassi shifted uncomfortably. ¡°They''re all pretty bad, to be honest. I don''t think any of them fit you.¡± ¡°Agreed.¡± Purred Mac. ¡°Picking any one of them would have you fighting other gods within the week. They are all hot garbage.¡± The wizard scowled at Mac. ¡°Why did you have to agree with me? I''m doubting myself now.¡± ¡°That''s your problem, not mine,¡± The cat said with a yawn as the last few seconds of the timer counted down. ¡°Tick tock, pick a path or it''s your ass.¡± Francis'' first urge was to pick Conquest. He was good in a fight, but the idea of fighting holy wars turned his stomach. Wealth looked promising, but he didn''t give a shit about money. That left Knowledge, his old nemesis. As he watched the numbers count down, something felt wrong. Why was it on a timer? This was a big decision. There was no reason for it to be timed. Unless¡­ The Marine grinned as the counter hit zero. ¡°You almost got me. I''ll stay on my current path, thanks.¡±
Divine Path Selected: General Divinity Slow and steady wins the race. Gaining followers, performing heroic deeds, and spreading your influence power your ascension. New Divine Perk Available! Divine Perk: Minor Miracle One Time Cost: Half of Current Divine Ascension Your followers¡¯ prayers will sometimes be answered automatically, without need for action on your part. To some it will seem like coincidence, but others will recognize your will at work. Examples: Feeding the hungry, healing injured, guiding the lost Do you wish to accept? YES / NO
Francis didn''t have to think hard about this one (which was good, because he hated thinking). There were thousands of refugees coming to Brexis any day now. He owed them every bit of comfort he could offer, even if it meant giving up half his progress. Because it was his fault they were refugees in the first place. What was the point of being a god if you couldn''t help people? The Marine thought as he accepted the perk. What kind of man would I be if I said no? Francis started feeling lightheaded as his divinity was drained away. ¡°Guys, this one might get nasty.¡± He mumbled, swaying drunkenly. ¡°I¡­ I don''t feel so good.¡± *** System was amused. Not only had Francis spotted its attempt to push him towards the more destructive paths, the Marine had also willingly given up half his power. Not many gods would have done that. Granted, very few of them caught onto the trick with the timer, and that was a prerequisite for being offered the perk. But even the perk itself was a double edged sword. Losing half of your divinity in one go was brutal. Francis would be vulnerable until he recovered. (And very hungover.) The smarter gods had figured out System was playing them against one another, forcing them into decisions designed to create conflict. There were many theories as to why, but the real answer was simple. Divine Ascension was a stress relief valve designed to deal with overpowered assholes. There was a certain sweet spot around level twenty where, as long as someone didn''t attract too much attention, they were basically safe. That was why locals had a hard cap and couldn''t ascend. But go beyond that, or attempt to become a god, and things got a lot more dangerous. The higher someone ascended, the more likely they were to fall. Vahnis hadn''t been designed this way by accident, or out of malice. On the contrary, it was an intentional decision meant to weed out the more destructive portal jumpers. So far, it had managed to keep most of them too busy to cause any real trouble. System thought about the creature trapped underneath Brexis. If System could shudder, it would have. AtropOS was trouble, world ending trouble. But it was currently asleep. And that was a very good thing for Vahnis¡¯ more powerful residents, including System. AtropOS only killed people that met certain criteria, usually age. Unfortunately, System was a person now. That meant when AtropOS eventually woke up, System would be one of the first to die. AtropOS always started by cutting the longest threads first. But that was a problem for later. System focused on the task at hand, a certain Marine was about to have a very bad time. Chapter 45: A Very Basic Cottage
Francis had experienced explosive diarrhea before. He had experienced the aftermath of eating a salad after weeks of MREs. He had eaten dollar enchiladas that made him wonder if he was going to turn inside out (or get whiplash). But this was the first time Francis had achieved lift-off. He barely managed to get his booty shorts down around his ankles before it hit. ¡°Oh hell.¡± The Marine groaned as a wave of nausea flowed over him. Half of Francis¡¯ divinity was leaving his body, and it was using every possible exit to make a speedy getaway. Mac, the demonic cat, cocked its head to the side. ¡°Oh, that doesn''t look good. Should he be smoking? Do humans usually smoke like that?¡± ¡°No! It''s not normal!¡± Shouted the Marine as he pounded a fist on his knee. He could smell burning bacon and rainbow sprinkles. And the worst was yet to come. He could feel it building up inside of him, preparing to release. ¡°Well, good luck with that then!¡± Mac called out before it teleported away to escape the blast radius. Cassi followed after. He was a chocolate wizard, but not that kind of chocolate. ¡°Fucking System!¡± Francis screamed as he rocketed off into the sky. Sparks of red, white, and blue light trailing behind him as he ascended. *** Back at the palace, Jack looked around in confusion. His new ¡°Doc¡± senses were tingling. That meant someone was hurt, about to be hurt, or needed to be hurt to protect his grunts. Since he currently only had one grunt under his care, that narrowed things down considerably. ¡°Has anyone seen Francis?¡± He called out to the drunken wedding guests. But nobody answered. Julia and Shiv were off in their room. Willow was talking very passionately about necromancer hospitality to the chefs. And Chuck had his head stuck in a bucket of beer. (He hadn''t gotten used to the horn yet.) A delicate hand covered in black fur tugged at his elbow. It was one of the musicians Amanda had kidnapped, a cat-folk bard with a purple tunic. ¡°Um, that''s the big guy, right?¡± She asked. ¡°Yeah, I''m looking for a big fucking Marine.¡± Jack confirmed, resolving to put some kind of tracking spell on Francis next time. Jack¡¯s Doc senses were going crazy! Whatever the Marine was up to, it had to be something insanely dangerous. The cat-folk bard pointed out the window at a figure in a fetal position, rising rapidly above the forest on a pillar of red, white, and blue sparks. ¡°Um¡­ is that him?¡± ¡°Fuck!¡± Jack swore as he took off at a dead run. ¡°Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!¡± *** From his position high above the treetops, Francis spotted something interesting. There was a cottage in a forest clearing not far from him. He adjusted his flight path by leaning forward a bit and tried not to overshoot his objective. The Marine had to admit, after he got over the initial pain and surprise, it wasn''t the worst method of transportation he ever tried. Ass rocketing into the sky was a lot more fun than driving a Humvee on the freeway. (And probably safer too.) Francis was starting to feel better as the last of his excess divinity burned off. Unfortunately, that meant his only source of propulsion was about to stop working. ¡°Well, shit.¡± Francis said as he began to fall. He hitched up his booty shorts and braced for impact. On the plus side, Francis had managed to stay on target and landed in the garden behind Tiffany¡¯s cottage. Unfortunately for him, it was a rock garden. *** Tiffany was of hag heritage, so she was tall, green, and gangly. But she softened up her rough edges with tan fur lined moccasins and large pink sunglasses. Thousands of gold worth of dentistry had fixed her teeth, and any flaws in her complexion were spackled over with makeup. ¡°Oh my goodness!¡± She shouted as something slammed into the ground behind her cottage. ¡°Like, what was that?¡± She grabbed her oversized clay mug of water and went to investigate. Sitting in a roughly man sized hole was a wizard. He spit out a mouthful of gravel. ¡°Are you Tiffany?¡± ¡°Maybe? Who wants to know?¡± The witch mentally called out for her bestie besties. Off in the distance an excited series of howls rang out. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°My name''s Francis.¡± The man limped out of the hole. ¡°Now, do you want to tell me why you have been sending people to attack my neighbor?¡± ¡°Oh, that guy?¡± She took a sip from her mug, it was narrower at the bottom so it could fit in the cup holder on her broom. ¡°Fuck that guy.¡± Francis watched the dozens of dire wolves approaching from the tree line. His recent experience with the green cloaks had made him apprehensive about tangling with large groups of enemies. ¡°Any particular reason you hate him?¡± ¡°Well, yeah. What''s it to you?¡± The Marine sighed. He wasn''t about to attack this woman unless she did something obviously hostile or evil. But those Ugg style boots she was wearing despite the afternoon heat and the ¡°Don¡¯t Be A Salty Bitch¡± doormat told him this was definitely the right place. He wasn¡¯t big on making snap judgments. But it was fairly common knowledge that hags ate children and she had sent those assholes after Cassi . There was, of course, one final test to make sure this person was both basic and evil. ¡°It''s my problem, because I''m the head of the Dark Forest Home Owner¡¯s Association.¡± Francis lied, seizing a rare moment of inspiration. ¡°You should know that attacking your neighbor is against HOA policy.¡± Off in the distance two dozen dire wolves came to a dead stop. ¡°There''s a Dark Forest HOA?¡± Tiffany asked, her eyes lighting up. ¡°That''s amazing!¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Francis said as he fell into character, ¡°And I don''t need to tell you that seeing gnomes stapled to trees is bad for housing prices.¡± ¡°Oh, shit. My bad. I just moved in.¡± Tiffany extended her hand for him to shake. Each finger ended on long green talons. ¡°I''m Tiffany Kinderfresser, pleased to meet you.¡± Francis shook her hand and looked around. ¡°Nice place you have here. Is that pumpkin spice I smell?¡± ¡°Oh, yeah. It is!¡± Tiffany beamed. ¡°I thought it was so much better than boring old gingerbread.¡± ¡°Well, do you mind if I take a look around to make sure everything is up to code before I invite you to join the HOA?¡± Francis asked. ¡°We have very strict standards, but there may be a board seat coming available soon.¡± ¡°Of course. Make yourself at home.¡± Tiffany waved for him to enter the candy cottage. ¡°I''d love to get a seat on the board. I have so many ideas.¡± ¡°I''ll bet you do.¡± Francis replied. *** Tiffany made iced vanilla lattes for them both and sat down to talk with her new friend. At first she had been nervous. But now that Francis was close, she could smell the necrotic energy wafting off of him. There was also a fresh demonic mark, and a familiar one at that. Hags were well known for their sense of smell. (But unfortunately, not for their sense of taste.) ¡°So, how do you know Lucipur?¡± Tiffany asked. ¡°Oh, the cat demon? They work for me.¡± Francis sniffed the iced vanilla latte, but didn''t drink it. His time in the desert had made him aware of certain rules that should never be broken. You couldn''t drink or eat with someone you might have to kill. The hag looked at the glass nervously. She was also aware of the rules of hospitality. That was why the children needed to steal from her before she was allowed to eat them. ¡°Is there something wrong with the drink?¡± ¡°I don''t drink.¡± Francis lied. ¡°Oh, are you undead?¡± Tiffany sniffed the air. She was getting a powerful aura of Necromancy, but other than that he smelled human. Immediately she began to feel suspicious. Something wasn''t right. Francis summoned Relativity to his hand and let it thud on the ground. The Marine figured he could probably take her out, even in his weakened state. But he needed to make sure she was actually evil. ¡°I''m not much for coffee. I wouldn''t say no to some food though. Got anything young and stupid?¡± The hag gawked at the evil artifact in Francis¡¯ hand. ¡°Is that the Staff of Moral Relativity?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Francis dismissed the weapon. ¡°So, are you going to offer me something to eat, or are we going to talk about your position on the HOA board with empty stomachs?¡± Tiffany thought about the young man in her basement. They didn''t get much dumber than Mason. ¡°I think I can find a suitable meal. How do you prefer them cooked?¡± ¡°I don''t,¡± Francis said with a stone face, ¡°Bring them to me, and I''ll pick which one I want.¡± A shiver went through Tiffany. Francis clearly was a being of immense power, and pure evil. The fact he could pass for human was incredible. No wonder they chose him to lead the HOA¡­. The Marine watched as the hag vanished through a trapdoor, and returned a few minutes later with a young man in his early twenties. He was grinning from ear to ear and went to fist bump his new friend. ¡°Hi, I''m Mason. But my friends call me Brick.¡± ¡°My name is Francis, and they probably aren''t your friends.¡± The Marine gave Tiffany a look that was equal parts annoyance and curiosity. On the one hand, she wasn''t eating children. On the other hand, she had brought a frat bro into his presence. ¡°Explain what exactly is going on here.¡± ¡°Mason, sweetie.¡± Tiffany grabbed the young man¡¯s arm. ¡°Why don''t you go for a run around the cottage?¡± ¡°Sure thing!¡± Mason said enthusiastically before he bolted out the door and started doing laps. ¡°Ok, don''t judge,¡± the hag said, ¡°I know it''s a little unorthodox. But I swear, they taste the same.¡± Francis watched as Mason ran into the same low hanging branch three times in a row. Each time he got up, completed the loop, smacked into the tree, and fell down again. ¡°So, he''s an idiot.¡± ¡°And immature.¡± Tiffany added. ¡°It turns out I don''t actually have to eat children, if I can find grown men who act like children. Plus, if I ever get a little bit lonely¡­¡± She gave him a guilty grin. ¡°Tiffany, you''re on thin fucking ice.¡± Francis warned. The Marine was about to say something nasty. But then he spotted an oven in the back of the cottage, and a plan began to form. He snapped and pointed at the pink enamel monstrosity. ¡°Can you tell me what''s wrong with that oven?¡± ¡°Um¡­ it looks fine to me.¡± The hag walked over to the oven and peered inside. ¡°What''s wrong with it?¡± Francis shook his head as he walked over. ¡°Tiffany, you''re never going to get on the HOA board unless you learn to keep an eye out for compliance issues.¡± ¡°Compliance issues?¡± She wrinkled her nose. ¡°What compliance issues?¡± ¡°It''s too small,¡± Francis said, taking the momentary inspiration and running with it. ¡°Look, how old are you?¡± ¡°That''s a rude thing to ask, but I''m a hundred and twenty years old.¡± Tiffany replied. She was actually a hundred and forty. (But she felt one hundred and twenty.) ¡°Right, and in that time children have been getting bigger and bigger, haven''t they?¡± Francis asked. ¡°Well, yes?¡± The hag saw where he was going with this, and she didn''t like it. ¡°Wait, are you really going to tell me my oven is too small because it can''t accommodate larger children?¡± ¡°It''s size based discrimination, and our HOA is against discrimination.¡± Francis crossed his arms and waited for her to attack him. ¡°Sorry, there''s nothing I can do. You can''t join the board if your house isn''t compliant.¡± ¡°That''s bullshit! You can''t just make up a regulation and selectively enforce it.¡± Tiffany was about to throw something heavy at Francis, but she stopped mid throw. ¡°Wait, you¡¯re just screwing with me!¡± ¡°Congratulations.¡± Francis clapped as he spoke. ¡°You passed the test. I''ll have your paperwork to join the board brought over right away.¡± ¡°I can''t believe it!¡± Tiffany jumped up and down like a horrible green jackrabbit. ¡°I''m so excited!¡± ¡°As you should be.¡± Francis frowned and pointed at the back corner of the open oven. He had planned to shove her into it, but unfortunately the oven wasn''t on. ¡°What''s that?¡± ¡°What''s what?¡± Tiffany stuck her head inside to get a closer look. ¡°I don''t see anything.¡± Francis summoned Relativity and pointed it at the back of the child (and man-child) murdering hag¡¯s skull. ¡°Don''t worry,¡± the Marine said as he began to cast Inferno, ¡°You¡¯ll know it when you see it.¡± Chapter 46: Opossum Where Art Thou? After the flames died down, an alert from System told Francis there was a reward waiting for him at the Adventure Guild. I should probably go collect those, he thought. Not long after Tiffany expired, the cottage began to decay. Iced vanilla lattes curdled in their glasses and rust ate away at the pink enamel of the oven. The hag herself adopted a much less human form as the layers of magic and makeup rotted away. The only thing that didn''t seem affected was an old acoustic guitar tucked in a corner. The Marine grabbed it on his way out the door after he checked the basement. He didn''t know who the guitar originally belonged to, but it didn''t deserve to get left behind in the ruined cottage. Besides, guitars were cool. What he found waiting for him outside on the porch were two dozen dire wolves, and a very plump opossum. Mason continued to run laps around the cottage, smacking into the same tree branch each time. The black and white opossum was the size of a cat. It rocked back and forth in one of the chairs while it plucked at a tiny banjo with its paws. The sound coming from the instrument was full sized and melodic. ¡°Well, howdy.¡± The opossum said in a voice that made Francis think of wood cabins, moonshine, and well loved cast iron cookware. ¡°I''m Evandrel. I represent the Dark Forest. Why don''t you pull up a seat and sit with me for a spell?¡± Francis did as he was told and sat down. The creature didn''t look threatening. But judging by the two dozen dire wolves the opossum had under its control, he figured it was probably pretty powerful. ¡°My name is Francis, and I am pleased to make your acquaintance. That''s a mighty fine instrument you got there.¡± The Marine felt his voice fall into a more rural accent as the weight of familiarity settled down over him. ¡°Damn, that thing reminds me of home. It makes me think of two dollar beers and barbecue. All I need now is some dip.¡± The opossum tossed a leather pouch his way. ¡°Well, grab a pinch and relax. The witch is gone, and the wolves are settled.¡± It plucked out a tune. ¡°So, I figure it''s time we have ourselves a little chat. I get to know you, you get to know me. We see if there is a way towards harmony.¡± Francis packed a lip full and picked up his guitar. ¡°Sure, I''ve been known to strum a chord.¡± He began to tune the instrument, picking up the creature¡¯s way of rhyming as it spoke. ¡°But I haven''t played this stage before.¡± ¡°Oh don''t worry none, music shared is much more fun.¡± The opossum grinned. ¡°I''ve seen you work and fighting ways, but the measure of a man is how he plays.¡± What followed was a musical game of tennis. The opossum would pick out a tune on its five string banjo and Francis would play it back on his guitar. The song changed subtly as it danced from instrument to instrument. Finally, they hit a good place to stop and Francis was rewarded with an alert from System that his Entertain skill had leveled up twice. ¡°Hot damn! You sure can play.¡± ¡°Thank you kindly.¡± The opossum nodded. ¡°I can already tell I like you a lot more than the old neighbors. Zed wasn''t much for music.¡± ¡°No, I can''t imagine he was.¡± Francis set his guitar aside. ¡°What was it you wanted to talk about?¡± ¡°Well, necromancers and druids don''t always get along. So I was sent to act as a sort of intermediary. You know, keep things civil.¡± The opossum set its instrument aside and the dire wolves booked it for the tree line as the spell holding them ended. ¡°The long and the short of it is, I''m curious what your plans are for Brexis. I''m also curious how you intend to accommodate the displaced people coming to knock on your door.¡± ¡°Ah, that is a good question.¡± Francis leaned back in his chair. He decided to play it straight with the critter and see what it said. ¡°Truth be told, I''m mostly playing it by ear. I¡¯ve got some things working, and good people backing me up. But it¡¯s one of those things where all I can do is eat the elephant one bite at a time. And Brexis is one big fuckin¡¯ elephant.¡± ¡°That it is.¡± The opossum rocked back and forth in its chair. ¡°Well, on the bright side you didn¡¯t profess a desire for world domination. You sound more like the original residents, Clarissa and her lot. They were overwhelmed too. But it turned out pretty alright, until it didn¡¯t.¡± The creature spit into a flower pot, wilting the plant inside. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. ¡°Tell me about them. I honestly don¡¯t know much about the city before Zed took over.¡± Francis wasn¡¯t sure if he could trust the creature. But information was always good to have. He could fact check it later. ¡°Well, Clarissa was a necromancer. She wanted to find a place where her people could live in peace and really explore what was possible. Dragon Fall Mountain was land that nobody wanted, so she set up shop there. Eventually that mountain became the city of Brexis, and the rest is history.¡± ¡°Was she a portal jumper like me?¡± Francis asked. ¡°I¡¯ve seen some stuff there that reminds me of home.¡± ¡°No, I don¡¯t think she was. Clarissa hit the hard cap at level twenty, just like I did.¡± The old opossum wrinkled its nose. ¡°Rumor has it that she found a way to make the undead think, do math and stuff like that.¡± The Marine had a pretty good idea of what Evandrel was talking about. A long time ago, one of the younger Marines had shown Francis a video of something called Minecraft. In that video it showed a fully functional mechanical computer that someone had built inside the game. He figured that if someone was smart enough, it wouldn''t be too much of a stretch for them to do something similar here. Though, the why of it all eluded him. The familiar forms of Jack and Cassi emerged from the tree line. Francis waved to them from the porch. ¡°I¡¯m glad you boys could make it!¡± Mac, the demonic cat, appeared in the Marine¡¯s lap and curled up. ¡°Less talking, more petting.¡± Francis shook his head as he gave the cat some ear scritches. ¡°You see what I have to put up with?¡± Evandrel laughed when he recognized the demon. ¡°Well, don¡¯t that beat all? Lucipur Meowingstar, the feline fiend, curled up in a god¡¯s lap.¡± Mac cracked an eye open. ¡°I never liked that name, don¡¯t use it.¡± ¡°Fair enough.¡± The opossum introduced itself to Jack and Cassi when they arrived and got back to business. ¡°As I was just telling your friend here, I like him a lot more than the old neighbors.¡± Cassi threw himself into a chair. ¡°That lich was bad news.¡± Jack found a chair of his own and joined in on the Zed bashing. ¡°I never met the guy. But he seemed like the kind of person who wouldn¡¯t see me as a person. So, fuck him.¡± ¡°Indeed.¡± Francis petted his new lap cat. ¡°Look, Evandrel. I¡¯m a live and let live kind of guy. I don¡¯t want to piss off the Dark Forest if I don¡¯t have to. So, maybe instead of asking me what my plans are, tell me what I should avoid doing if I want to stay on your good side.¡± ¡°Well, for starters, don¡¯t go logging trees we don¡¯t mark. If we feel a tree needs to be cut down, we¡¯ll mark it for you with yellow paint around the trunk.¡± The opossum rocked in his chair as he spoke. ¡°Next up, hunting is fine. Killing monsters that threaten the towns and villages is fine. But anything that speaks, that isn¡¯t trying to harm people, leave it be.¡± ¡°Ah, I am happy to say that we actually extend full legal rights to uplifts and other intelligent creatures.¡± Francis looked at the young man, who was still running laps. ¡°I figure if someone like Mason is considered a person, why not a talking horse?¡± ¡°Well that¡¯s good to hear.¡± The Opossum nodded. ¡°You just might find yourself with a few new citizens, once word spreads. That brings me to the former occupants of Olympia. What are you going to do about them? The last thing the Dark Forest wants is a bunch of starving humans hunting everything that moves and starting up bandit camps.¡± Cassi raised his hand. ¡°What was that about refugees from Olympia?¡± They caught him up to speed on Amanda¡¯s rampage through the city and the horde of displaced people a day or less away. ¡°Well, my suggestion would be to send some of them back to rebuild Olympia. Unless, of course, you want a bunch of bandits to start sending boats down the Silver River.¡± ¡°Yeah, that makes sense.¡± Francis admitted. ¡°A lot of them will probably want to go back home anyway.¡± ¡°Not once they see what good stuff Brexis has to offer.¡± Jack countered. ¡°You¡¯ve got plenty of housing, running water, a chance to find their fortunes, and big fuck off walls. I think you will be surprised how many want to stay, once they get used to the skellies.¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t you say something about them having undead servants where you come from?¡± Francis asked. The hound shifted awkwardly. ¡°I mean, technically we do. Or at least, we did. But they weren¡¯t mindless like the ones here.¡± The Marine decided to put a pin in that particular grenade for now. He imagined Jack¡¯s world as being some futuristic sci-fi place with nano-machines and all the other random stuff DARPA was constantly threatening to inject him with. Francis wasn¡¯t sure where undead came into the picture. ¡°So, Evandrel. I was wondering if you might have some ideas about how to help the people who are coming.¡± ¡°I may have a few.¡± The opossum admitted. ¡°Let me talk to my people and I¡¯ll see what they would be willing to do. At the very least I can tell them you aren¡¯t a complete asshole like Zed. I¡¯ll reach out sometime tomorrow. But I need to ask a favor.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± Francis raised an eyebrow. He had been waiting for Evandrel to ask him for something since he first sat down. ¡°What can I do for you?¡± The opossum pointed at Mason. ¡°Please, take him with you.¡± Chapter 47: The Notorious BCG Cassi, Jack, Mac, and Brick followed behind Francis as he guided them through the forest. They had initially tried calling Brick by his real name, but it didn''t fit him. Masons were solid men and women with beer guts who built things. Brick was the kind of person who walked into stuff. Tiffany had met Brick at a music festival and lured him back to her cottage. The young man wasn''t sure how long he had spent in Tiffany''s basement. There were others living in the basement when he first arrived, but they had vanished one by one. When Brick asked about it, Tiffany told him they had been ¡°voted off¡± and sent home. Francis wasn''t exactly clear on what Brick thought was going on at the cabin. It sounded like survivor (and in a way, it was) or some other reality TV show. Brick was bummed out when they finally managed to convince him that it wasn''t real. ¡°It would really have been great for my career,¡± the young man said as he tramped through the woods, ¡°I was really hoping I''d win.¡± The Marine wasn''t too keen on having to take care of a total boot like Brick. But whenever they asked where he came from, all the young man could do was point (usually in a seemingly random direction). He didn''t know the name of the town, or any major landmarks. When Jack told Brick to describe the house he lived in, everyone was very excited to hear the details. That was, until they realized he was describing Tiffany''s cottage. The pumpkin spice candles finally gave it away. Though really, they should have caught on when he mentioned the vision board. Brick didn''t seem like someone with much in the way of vision. (That was probably why he kept walking into stuff.) ¡°Jack, can you do something about this kid¡¯s vision?¡± Francis asked his resident Battle Medic. He was tired of waiting for Brick to get back up again after he walked into stuff. The group came to a halt. Mac floated up until he was at eye level with Brick. ¡°I could change his vision.¡± The demonic cat offered. ¡°Absolutely not.¡± Francis grabbed the floating feline by the scruff of the neck before it could make a deal with Brick. ¡°No more making deals with people who are too dumb to understand, you hear? There''s no sportsmanship in it.¡± ¡°Fine.¡± Mac sulked. ¡°But he would have looked really cool with another eye right in the middle of his forehead. Imagine what would happen if he could see into the Other Realm!¡± ¡°If he wants to see demons, all Brick has to do is open a packet of treats and you''ll come running.¡± The Marine laughed. The demonic cat¡¯s ears perked up at the mention of food. ¡°Treats? You have treats? I would like a treat.¡± Jack¡¯s ears perked up as well. ¡°Can I have one too?¡± Francis shook his head. ¡°Sort out Brick¡¯s vision first, then we''ll see about a treat.¡± You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. ¡°Deal!¡± Shouted Mac as he lunged at the unsuspecting human. Brick didn''t have time to react before the demon was on him. It grasped at either side of his head with its paws like a faith healer as it spoke. ¡°I grant you sight beyond sight! Vision into the maddening realms! Open your mind to the horrors of pure reality! Open your eyes, and see!¡± The young man twitched once or twice as waves of demonic red magic washed over him, but didn''t seem to be overtaken by any horrific visions. Mac batted at the side of Brick¡¯s head a few times. ¡°Is this thing on?¡± He asked. ¡°Probably not.¡± Francis replied. ¡°Now, come on down from there. Stop being mean to Brick.¡± ¡°Fine.¡± Mac floated down to the ground. ¡°I suppose we can let the Hound take a shot at it. Tell me, Jack. How are you intending to fix his eyesight? Restoration spell? Augmentation magic?¡± ¡°None of the above,¡± Jack said as he used his Battle Medic ability to summon a pair of glasses with chunky brown frames and lenses thick enough to stop an artillery round. ¡°These should do the trick.¡± The Marine tried not to laugh as he recognized the familiar frames. ¡°Holy fuck, are those BCGs?¡± The Hound grinned at Francis. ¡°Indeed they are, but they aren''t just any BCG. These here are genuine S9 Birth Control Glasses, the most ugly eyewear known to man. Apparently, System has a sense of humor.¡± Jack walked over to Brick and set the glasses on his face to check the fit. ¡°That should help you see better.¡± Mac decided to make itself helpful (and secure a front row seat) by summoning a mirror for Brick. The demonic cat floated next to it, waiting for the young man to see his reflection. Brick recoiled as the ugly brown frames came into view. He looked at his reflection with horror. ¡°If it''s all the same to you, I think I''ll take my chances with the demon,¡± he said. But when Brick tried to take the glasses off, they wouldn''t budge. He fought with them for a few seconds before giving up. Once they were on the move again, Francis sidled up to Jack. ¡°That was a neat trick with the glasses. What was that? Some kind of retention spell or something?¡± he asked. "Nah. It wasn''t anything that fancy,¡± Jack replied, ¡°System wouldn''t give me a nerd-strap to stop Brick from losing his glasses, so I used a little superglue.¡± The Marine frowned. He definitely needed to address the fact that gluing things to their newest recruit was not OK (even if it was probably for his own good). But first, Francis had a much more pressing question. ¡°Jack, where the fuck did you get superglue?¡± *** Francis was surprised to learn that as a Battle Medic, Jack could summon all kinds of neat things. There were bandages, condoms, socks, minor potions of healing, even small jars of lubricant. The Marine eyed the little wooden jar. ¡°System sure is thorough.¡± ¡°I''d say that is a fair assessment.¡± Jack agreed. ¡°The class description also says I can do special contraceptive tattoos, if you need one.¡± ¡°I think we''re covered in that regard,¡± the Marine said as he pocketed the jar for later. Brexis¡¯ front gates were in sight, and he was looking forward to what would probably be his last chance at a good night''s sleep for quite some time. It was already creeping towards evening, and his whole day pretty much shot. To make things worse, a group of riders was approaching. They raced down the main road towards Brexis, no doubt attempting to reach the city before nightfall. The riders and their mounts were covered in protective armor that reminded Francis of a certain Deathmark Paladin. ¡°Willow, baby. You better tell everyone to sober up.¡± He said through the telepathic link. ¡°I think Julia¡¯s family just arrived.¡± Chapter 48: In-laws and Outlaws
As the riders approached, Mac became uncharacteristically quiet. The demonic cat sat down on the ground next to Francis and let out a low groan. ¡°Not a big fan of paladins?¡± The Marine asked. ¡°Not these ones,¡± Mac replied, ¡°If anyone asks, I''m your familiar.¡± Francis scratched his head and did his best to look confused. But inside, he was grinning. ¡°So, you¡¯ll act as my familiar if I tell the paladins you are my familiar?¡± he asked. ¡°Yes.¡± The demon hissed. ¡°Deal,¡± the Marine said before he turned and called out to the paladins. ¡°Howdy! I''m Francis! And this is my familiar!¡± Mac''s eyes went wide with surprise as the demon got a system alert. ¡°Oh, you clever bastard.¡± A blue box appeared in front of Francis.
Congratulations! You have gained a bonded Familiar. You may only have one familiar at a time. Familiars may not be of a higher Tier than you. Not all creatures may become Familiars. Familiars can be summoned and dismissed at will. Your familiar will attempt to follow your orders to the best of its ability. It may decide not to follow an order that is against its nature, or that is harmful to it. Familiars can communicate telepathically with the creature they are bonded to, as long as both are on the same plane of existence. If a Familiar dies, it may be resurrected if the spirit is willing, at least twenty-four hours have passed, and the bonded creature makes an offering of ten gold per the Familiar¡¯s tier. +5 to Arcane (1 ? Familiar Tier) when your Familiar is within ten meters and is not unconscious. Have fun with that.
Magic surged through Francis as the buff from accepting Mac as his Familiar pushed the Marine¡¯s Arcane skill all the way to eighteen. His hair stood on end and an incredible sense of being one with the universe invaded his mind. ¡°Oh hell no! Not again!¡± Francis called out as he summoned Relativity to ground him. As he gripped the staff, the Marine tried to think unhappy thoughts and drown out the approaching wave of cosmic understanding. ¡°NJPs, brass with bright ideas, Humvees on the freeway.¡± The Marine chanted, trying to chase away the sense of nirvana. The approaching paladins stopped ten meters short and watched as Francis began to unwillingly levitate. Green light radiated from his body and formed into creeping tendrils. Mac batted at the ghostly tentacles with his paws, cackling with laughter. ¡°Yes! Embrace the strange geometry of the universe!¡± The demon called out, its plans of keeping a low profile all but forgotten. ¡°Become one with everything! EVERYTHING!¡± Brick raised his hand. ¡°But, like¡­ why?¡± Francis'' upward ascension paused. ¡°Why what?¡± He asked, focusing his attention on the dense young man. ¡°Why anything?¡± Brick said with a shrug. The Marine felt his feet touch the ground again and the writhing mass of green necrotic energy began to dissipate. It was hard to contemplate the mysteries of the universe while someone like Brick was around. His mind was a black hole no thought could escape. (Not unscathed, at least.) A heavyset paladin with graying blond hair and a matching beard called out to them. Francis guessed that was Julia''s father. ¡°If you are quite done going super Saiyan, I would like to parlay with you!¡± Francis took a second to grasp the significance of what he had just heard. ¡°Was that a Dragon Ball Z reference?¡± He shouted back. ¡°Yes!¡± Responded the paladin, nodding enthusiastically. ¡°I¡¯m originally from Emeryville!¡± The Marine felt his hackles raise. ¡°Emeryville?¡± ¡°Yeah, in California!¡± The paladin called out happily. ¡°But I''ve been here for nearly fifty years! Where are you from?¡± Normally, Francis would have taken that as proof that the paladins were as evil as Julia said they were, and ended them on the spot. But as someone with a large amount of land, he had other considerations. ¡°I''m from Texas! Is it true you folks can drive up rent and housing prices, just by saying that you might be interested in moving there?¡± ¡°Unfortunately!¡± The man laughed. ¡°Great!¡± Francis responded, pretending to be pleasant even though he trusted the man about as much as a Wiffle condom. ¡°How soon can you start?¡± *** Francis updated Willow on the current situation and continued to buy time for everyone to sober up. Apparently there was magic that could speed up the process, and it was just as unpleasant as it sounded. The tall man Francis was speaking to introduced himself as Asher. His wife Karen, who went by ¡°Kiki¡±, also wore full plate and was equally imposing. Francis didn''t bother learning the names of the other eight men and women riding behind them. There was no reason to risk getting attached. Something seemed off about the two paladins (besides the fact Asher was from California), but Francis couldn''t put a finger on it. They were pleasant enough, and had shown no signs of hostility. He walked ahead of the group and chatted with them while Cassi, Brick, and Jack lagged behind alongside the retainers. Brexis'' magical street lights were already coming on, and the sun was about ready to set. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°So, about the whole arranged marriage thing.¡± The Marine didn''t see any point of dancing around the elephant in the room. ¡°What¡¯s the story there?¡± Asher made a pained expression. ¡°Ah, I was hoping you wouldn''t bring that up. But I suppose what¡¯s done, is done.¡± The paladin sighed. ¡°Julia is my greatest treasure, and the wording of the pact Kiki and I made, required that we give up our greatest treasure by a certain date.¡± ¡°Go on.¡± Kiki took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Francis had seen Julia do the same thing whenever she had something unpleasant to say. ¡°Look, it was the least worst option. We weren''t about to sacrifice her, and we couldn''t go back on the deal. So, marriage was the solution we came up with.¡± ¡°You were going to marry your daughter off to a demon?¡± ¡°Yes. Because if we didn''t, they would take all of our souls, including hers.¡± Asher grimaced. ¡°To be fair, I never thought I would particularly like having children. And I assumed I would have to give up my sword or something.¡± Francis looked at Mac. ¡°Yeah, I hear demonic deals can be a real bitch if you aren''t careful with the wording.¡± The cat shot him a death glare, but not a literal one (that would break their agreement). After the initial excitement, Mac had once again gone quiet. Francis found that incredibly suspicious. ¡°You know, Asher. I have some experience with demons, which one did you make a deal with?¡± ¡°Well, we had a few different options. But in the end, we went with Lucipur. They offered the most power up front.¡± Asher explained. ¡°You don''t say. And what happened when they found out the marriage was off?¡± The Marine kept an eye out for Mac¡¯s reaction. ¡°We got a very nasty letter saying that Lucipur had found out through a friend that the wedding was not going to proceed as planned. And they had gone to Brexis to deal with the god who was causing all the trouble and claim what was promised,¡± Asher said. Kiki cut in. ¡°Not that you don''t seem capable, Francis. But Lucipur is a very powerful demon. We figured you could use the help.¡± Mac, or rather Lucipur, looked like it had swallowed a lemon. The demon almost said something, but seemed to think better of it. Francis wasn''t sure if he bought this loving parent routine. It painted Asher and Kiki in a suspiciously favorable light. They were almost at the palace, and he needed to reach a decision soon about what to do with them. The Marine decided to rattle them a bit and see what happened. ¡°Well, it was nice of you to come. But I already talked to the demon in question and smoothed things over.¡± Asher and Kiki stared at Francis in shock. Not in relief, but in surprise and dismay. They looked like two con artists that had just been found out. Asher tried to regain his composure and look nonchalant. ¡°What did they say?¡± ¡°Oh, you know Lucipur. They wouldn''t leave until we made a deal. Lucipur really likes making deals.¡± Francis looked down at the demon. ¡°Hey Mac, you can speak. Tell me, what did Lucipur¡¯s letter say exactly?¡± Mac stopped, bringing everyone to a halt. ¡°Well, Francis. The letter contained an offer. Sacrifice Julia to me by sundown, or forfeit the deal and lose all their power.¡± ¡°You son of a bitch!¡± Kiki screamed as she pulled her sword from its sheath. Francis thought she was going after him, but instead the woman only had eyes for her husband. ¡°You told me we were coming to save her!¡± Asher managed to turn his mount to the side and deflect the blow off his shield. Which was unfortunate, because that meant Francis had a clear shot at his back. The Marine raised Relativity and thrust it like a spear at the base of the Paladin¡¯s neck. ¡°Asher, you''re a rotten bastard,¡± Francis said as he cast Hint of Rot, pumping over a thousand MP into the spell, "It''s time everyone saw that for themselves." The paladin¡¯s flesh turned black where the staff made contact. Accelerated fungal and bacterial growth rotted away his skin, revealing the bones beneath. Within seconds the corruption had spread to cover Asher¡¯s entire body. He gasped and wheezed until Kiki put him out of his misery with a quick thrust to the eye. Francis looked back at the eight possible combatants behind him. They didn''t seem to have much inclination to fight. One was vomiting profusely, and the others were making a very big point of keeping their hands away from any weapons. The woman spit on her husband''s corpse and dismounted. She stood in front of Mac with her sword still drawn. ¡°Asher was the love of my life. I don''t know what game you are playing at, Lucipur. But the sun is about to set. So accept my offering and consider our business concluded, or I swear on the dead gods I will find a way to make you pay for the pain you brought my family.¡± The demon looked at her with amusement. ¡°Pain I brought? No, no, no.¡± Mac shook its head. ¡°I wanted to take Asher''s sword as payment, but when he offered me his daughter instead¡­ how could I refuse?¡± Kiki clenched her jaw. ¡°So take it, or leave empty handed.¡± Mac weighed its options. ¡°Fine. I suppose between murdering your husband and giving me his sword, that would qualify as adequate payment for services rendered. But¡­¡± She cocked an eyebrow. ¡°But what?¡± The demonic cat grinned. ¡°It''s already sunset." Chapter 49: The Setting Sun Kiki looked at the demonic cat with disbelief. ¡°You would rather leave empty handed than honor your word?¡± Mac laughed. ¡°I always keep my word. You are the one who is trying to get out of our agreement.¡± Francis felt a puzzle piece snap into place as he stared out at the purple and red sunset. No matter what, they wouldn''t have gotten to the palace in time. And Asher had gone down way too easily. ¡°Oh, Kiki. You''re cold as ice, aren''t you?¡± ¡°I just wanted to protect my daughter.¡± the paladin said, ¡°Asher lied to me.¡± ¡°Did he now?¡± The Marine looked back at the eight men and women on horseback behind them. Jack, Cassi, and Brick were keeping them back. ¡°Because I have a different theory. If I was trying to save my daughter, I''d have a sense of urgency about it. Hell, even if I was trying to kill her I''d ride a lot quicker than you did.¡± ¡°What are you implying?¡± She squared off with Francis. The Marine kept an eye out for danger as he spoke. He had already spotted Shiv with her bow on a nearby rooftop. It looked like his people were preparing an ambush. ¡°I''m guessing you both lost your powers when the contract was broken. But Julia is one of mine, she still is as strong as ever. You couldn''t kill her if you wanted to, unless of course you killed your husband to prove you weren''t a threat... then stuck a knife in her back.¡± The demonic cat grinned. ¡°He¡¯s not as dumb as he looks.¡± ¡°How unfortunate,¡± Kiki said, assessing the situation and realizing she was completely fucked. ¡°What happens now?¡± Francis shrugged. ¡°My first instinct is to let Julia decide. But it''s not fair to force that decision on her. It''s an unnatural act for a daughter to kill her mother.¡± The Marine had been in similar situations before, when who to trust and what to do with them came down to a coin flip. Heads, you live. Tails, you''re toast. Shiv had seemed genuinely concerned about Julia¡¯s family back when Francis first met them. She even mentioned that Asher and Kiki would try to kill them for breaking off the agreement. That tracked with both what Mac had said, and what happened to Asher. Kiki had attacked her husband before he could defend himself, either verbally or physically. He watched as Shiv pulled back her bow and took aim. She would do anything to protect her partner. That was enough to tip the scales for Francis. Tails it is. Instead of attacking, Francis decided to lower the Paladin''s Deflect by his Tier, just like the Green Cloaks had done to him. Kiki gripped her sword, preparing to swing. Her face was filled with rage. But she didn''t have time to follow through with the attack before a black arrow embedded itself in the side of her head. The critical hit on the de-powered paladin killed her instantly. Francis turned to face the remaining members of the group before they could draw weapons. He wasn''t sure if he should call them knights or paladins. The Marine walked up to one who had a particularly nasty vibe of general evil about him. They looked like the kind of person who didn''t wait until you were dead before they stole your boots. (Or ¡°helped you along¡± if you weren''t dying quickly enough.) If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°So, rat-face,¡± Francis said as he approached the greasy man in plate armor, ¡°Are you the one in charge?¡± The man grinned. ¡°I suppose I am. What can I do for you?¡± The body language of the others told Francis all he needed to know. They didn''t trust or like the rat-faced man. Francis pointed his staff at him and cast Life Drain. ¡°That was the wrong answer,¡± he said as the man shriveled and died, ¡°Now, the rest of you. Please point to the person in charge.¡± Jack started them off on the right foot by pointing at Francis. They all grasped the concept very quickly and joined in, almost as if their lives depended on it. ¡°Good. Now, I''m going to make a few things crystal clear. I only accept volunteers. Conscripts make shitty troops.¡± He let that hang in the air. ¡°Any day now, maybe as soon as tomorrow morning, refugees from Olympia are going to start showing up here in Brexis. We are going to need all hands on deck to get them fed and taken care of.¡± Francis mostly saw looks of confusion and doubt. But there was no outright hostility. He figured that was a good sign. ¡°My people here and in Riverlark have been buying food, ordering basic supplies, and letting people know that Brexis is ready to welcome them with open arms. But I am going to need your help. So, here is what I''m offering.¡± He waved his hand to the houses that bordered the road. ¡°In addition to good pay and the satisfaction of helping those in need, I am offering you each a home, rent free. No more shitty barracks. An actual house big enough to raise a family in.¡± Now he had their attention. He wasn''t ready to give up ownership of the land, but letting them stay rent free while they worked for him was a no-brainer. ¡°If you are interested in building a brighter future, follow me and we will find a place for you. If you aren''t, fuck off now and never darken my doorway again.¡± Francis turned and started walking home to the palace. He didn''t stop to look and see if they followed. But a few seconds later he got a mental message from Willow. ¡°It looks like we have some new recruits. I''ll make sure they get settled in.¡± ¡°Thanks, babe. I''m going to grab a shower and pass the fuck out. I''ve had one hell of a day.¡± Francis was tired down to his bones, and he needed to be fresh for tomorrow. The Marine got his shower and crawled into bed after he filled everyone in on what happened. Julia hadn''t said much about her parents¡¯ demise, and Francis was thankful to avoid the drama. But he would need to check in on her once it had time to settle. Just as he was drifting off to sleep, or maybe he was already asleep, a knock at the door woke him up. Groggily Francis turned to see Willow standing in the doorway with a tray of food. It was stacked high with meat and potatoes. There was even a cold beer with condensation beading on the glass, and a slice of chocolate cake, courtesy of Cassi. ¡°If you''re hungry, I brought food,¡± Willow said as she set the tray down on the nightstand next to him. She began to slowly undress, her green and black robes falling to the floor. ¡°But if you don''t want food...¡± ¡°Hot damn!¡± Francis said. He looked at Willow, admiring this amazing woman who had been better to him than he had any right to expect. The Marine knew better than to jump into anything so soon, but if off-base housing was involved he would have proposed on the spot. He stood up to embrace her, but she pushed him back down onto the bed. Willow straddled him and leaned in for a kiss. ¡°You''ve had a long day,¡± she said, ¡°Why don''t you just lay back and let me take care of you?¡± ¡°Yes Ma¡¯am!¡± Francis replied, wondering again how a guy like him had managed to get so lucky. Chapter 50: Earning Their Keep While Francis and Willow were occupied, the others went to work. The first thing they did was waste an hour arguing about what to call their group. Everyone, including the musicians and new recruits, was invited. ¡°Chuck''s Heroes¡± and ¡°The Rainbow Brigade¡± were rejected. As were ¡°Assassins Without Borders¡±, ¡°Auldric¡¯s Army¡± and ¡°Mac¡¯s Militia¡±. Just when it seemed that nobody could agree on anything, Brick came to the rescue. The young man could see the problem. Which was a strange feeling, usually his mind was as foggy as his eyesight. But Brexis was boosting his skills. And going from a zero to a one made all the difference. ¡°Who do we want to be?¡± He asked. ¡°I mean, I know who we are. We''re a bunch of random people. But who do we want to be?¡± The mish mash of adventures, assassins, and cooks looked at one another. Auldric spoke up first, ¡°If I''m honest, all I want is to make things better. Because I''m tired of serving lords that aren''t worth my time.¡± ¡°Same.¡± Agreed a young woman that had come with Julia¡¯s parents. She was wiry with a scar down the side of her face. ¡°The world is a shit show. But at least Francis seems to care.¡± Brick tried to think of something intelligent to say, but he was tapped out. He looked to Mac for help. The demon sighed, Brick was too pathetic for it to ignore. ¡°Fine, I''m probably going to be stuck with you all for a while. So I''ll help, just this one time.¡± It concentrated and words written in fire appeared in the air. THE BEST OF BREXIS ¡°You can call yourself The BOBs and have shirts made with embroidery on them,¡± the demon said miserably. Team building wasn''t its thing, but getting people to do what it wanted definitely was. ¡°Wow!¡± Brick grinned as he reached over to scratch Mac behind the ears. ¡°You''re one smart kitty.¡± The demonic cat curled up in Brick¡¯s lap and began to purr happily. ¡°Yes¡­ I am the best.¡± *** The Best of Brexis didn''t want tomorrow to devolve into a complete cluster fuck, and that meant they had to be proactive. Waiting for the refugees to come to Brexis was asking for trouble. The BOBs would need to manage the flow and get infrastructure in place before the main body arrived. Anyone with money fleeing Olympia had traveled on horseback or by carriage to the capital and other major cities. That left the vast majority of people traveling on foot. There would be a vanguard of faster moving refugees as well as a trailing element of the sick and injured. The BOBs¡¯ goal was to peel away at the mass of people layer by layer like an onion. Auldric had already started by sending notice that Brexis was looking for skilled artisans, as well as laborers to help rebuild. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. The request would draw people from far and wide, creating vacancies and job openings in the surrounding cities for the refugees. Because not all of them would be headed to Brexis. The merchant¡¯s guild had been alerted as well. The opening of a major trade route with low taxes and tariffs would have them scrambling to claim their piece of the pie. That would get goods flowing through the city, which Brexis would happily accept as payment in lieu of coins (for a modest markup). An unorthodox suggestion had come from Mac, and time would tell if it was brilliant or incredibly stupid. The other BOBs (besides Brick) had trouble trusting the demon, mostly due to a thing called common sense. But it was strangely appealing. Francis was unique among the gods because he believed in freedom of religion. To hear him tell it, he could give a shit if people prayed to him or not, so long as they did what he said. Mac¡¯s idea was to invite the other religions into Brexis. Naturally, Francis would be keeping the palace and his position as head god of Brexis. But there was a ton of space for the other gods to establish their temples. It wasn''t uncommon for followers to seek out new deities after a holy city fell. The more pragmatic gods usually tried to siphon off as many as they could with offers of aid and shelter. If the other gods wanted to take on some of the burden, that was fine with them. Francis had explained to his core followers early on that he was looking to ¡°avoid planting the same crop in the field every year and fucking up the soil¡±. He wanted to diversify Brexis'' income and favor long term stability over short term profits. To that end, they were going to try and attract manufacturing and other industries to the city. Skeleton powered machines were common in Brexis. They were cheaper than golems and didn''t require access to the river like water wheels. Plus, the machines could be purchased as-is and didn''t require modifications. If something was designed to be operated by humans, the undead could use it. Something Cassi had brought to everyone¡¯s attention was that if the undead did most of the fighting, and there would eventually be fighting, Brexis had a unique economic advantage. Instead of losing their young able bodied citizens to the wars that cropped up around Vahnis, they could stay in the labor force. Between that and the undead, Brexis would become an economic powerhouse. When Francis woke up and went to them for a summary, he approved most of the ideas. But the Marine made a few changes. When it came to goods, quality was going to be more important than quantity. He wanted them to be producing ¡°expensive and heavy shit, not cheap plastic crap and dogshit¡±. According to the maps and tax documents, Brexis had more than a few shipbuilding facilities. The Silver River was deep enough for them to fill the ships with cargo and drift them down to the capital for sale. But they wouldn¡¯t sell anything that could move against the current. Francis remembered what happened with the CIA and their stinger missiles. He didn¡¯t want warships on his doorstep. The other major changes were regarding art, music, and food. Brexis¡¯ black on black color scheme was depressing as hell and the skeletal minions weren¡¯t exactly pleasant to look at. It was only slightly better than living in Seattle. They needed to liven things up. Francis proposed grants to beautify the city, get some good chow cooking, and support the arts. The chefs and musicians were very much in favor of this, as was Shiv. Mostly Francis supported the programs because he wanted some tacos and a nice spot to eat them, but he didn¡¯t need to tell them that. When they were done, Francis went out to the garden to watch the sunrise. He puffed on one of Willow¡¯s cigars as he took stock. Their plans for the city were ambitious and he figured they might be able to enact about ten percent of them, if they were lucky. They would adjust as needed. Things like higher numbers of wounded, or nasty weather, would shift their priorities. The Marine cocked his head to the side. He could hear something in the distance that sounded like a scream. It was getting closer, but he couldn¡¯t tell what direction it was coming from. Finally he looked up to see Amanda the red dragon flying towards him. In her claws was a kobold wearing a bright white hard hat and enormous boots. She released her minion without bothering to land first. ¡°Ah,¡± Francis said as he watched the unfortunate lizard man plummet through the air without a parachute, screaming like a banshee the whole way down. ¡°At least he¡¯s wearing his safety gear.¡± Chapter 51: Kobold & Kobold Relativity was very happy with how things were progressing. Life was flowing into Brexis, water would turn the wheel once more, and the city would be reborn. It almost gave the evil magical artifact some semblance of hope. But Relativity¡¯s pessimism told it that this was all too good to be true. Each time it seemed like things were getting back on track, disaster struck. The magic staff blamed System for the delays. That was the only explanation. System wanted Brexis to fail, for some reason or other. That probably had to do with the thing sleeping beneath the city. The founders had tapped it like a geothermal vent and used it to power the city¡¯s magical infrastructure. The more they used, the weaker it got. The weaker it became, the more the taint of death receded. Right now everyone was absorbing a little more necrotic energy than was strictly healthy. But the levels would go down as the city woke up. Nobody had told Francis this, so when the short green lizard man started talking about K.O.S.H.A. (Kobold Occupational Safety and Health Alliance) violations regarding worksite contamination, the Marine almost blew his lid. ¡°Brexis is fucking radioactive?!¡± He shouted. ¡°We''ve got a god damned leaky fucking nuclear reactor underneath us and nobody thought to tell me!¡± ¡°No. It''s not nuclear powered, it''s necrotic.¡± Hank the kobold calmly corrected him. ¡°If it was nuclear, we could clean it up naturally with a few spells and waste eating creatures. But levels should decrease as the city comes back online.¡± Francis was about to go off again when he stopped cold. ¡°You know about nukes? How do you know about nukes? This place is supposed to be magical medieval fucking Germany or something. How do you have nukes?¡± ¡°Let me answer a question with a question. What do you think every asshole physicist tries to do when they get here?¡± Hank asked, drumming his talons on his clipboard. ¡°Oh. They try to build a nuke, don''t they?¡± ¡°Exactly!¡± Hank beamed. ¡°And do you know what happens when they try and set it off? Absolutely nothing. System physics are different.¡± Francis didn''t know if he was relieved by the fact that nukes weren''t a thing, or annoyed that he would never get to build one for himself. But the grunts and crafts projects would have to wait. ¡°Ok, so what else do they try and build that doesn''t work?¡± ¡°It depends on where they come from. There¡¯s the nuclear stuff, the nano-machines, artificial intelligence, swift-bots¡­¡± Hank ticked them off his mental list one by one. There was an astounding amount of things that simply did not work in Vahnis. Francis scratched his head. ¡°Hank, how do you know about all this stuff?¡± The kobold straightened his flannel shirt. ¡°I know, because at Kobold and Kobold we pride ourselves in staying up to date with the latest construction and destruction techniques. Your imagination is our destination.¡± ¡°That''s quite a sales pitch.¡± Francis admitted. ¡°I don''t know if Amanda filled you in on the situation. But we''ve got a bunch of refugees headed this way we need help with.¡± ¡°Yeah, her supreme scaliness did mention something about that as she was abducting me. Now that I think about it.¡± Hank waved his hand and a bird¡¯s-eye view of the city appeared. ¡°I managed to do some surveying before she dropped me. Believe it or not, I''ve had a fair bit of experience dealing with surplus populations.¡± This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. The kobold flattened the illusion down to two dimensions and started to sketch. ¡°So, we are going to need a receiving area to separate them out into smaller groups. That way if anyone gets too excited, it won''t panic the whole herd.¡± Francis¡¯ forehead wrinkled. He didn''t like where things were headed. ¡°Hank, what was that bit about dealing with surplus populations?¡± The lizard man beamed and held his hard hat over his heart. ¡°Kobold and Kobold has over a thousand years of collective experience dealing with everything from death traps to exotic lair construction. A few refugees will be no problem. We can have the ovens installed by tomorrow if you want.¡± The Marine narrowed his eyes at Hank and took a puff of his cigar. Relativity was positively thrumming with malice as he spoke. ¡°There seems to have been a misunderstanding. A failure to communicate, if you will. My intention is to welcome these people as free citizens of Brexis.¡± The kobold smiled. ¡°Well, they say that work will make you-¡± Before Hank could finish the sentence, Francis reached over and clamped his mouth shut. Smoke from the cigar still resting between Francis¡¯ fingers made the kobold¡¯s eyes water. Without releasing the kobold from his grip, the Marine took a puff from his cigar. The lizard man¡¯s legs kicked helplessly as he was lifted into the air. ¡°Now, Hank. I want to be absolutely clear on something,¡± Francis said, still holding the kobold in the air, ¡°Those people are under my protection, and I would be incredibly angry if even one of them were harmed. So, if you are able and willing to help me make Brexis a safe home for them, blink twice.¡± Hank made a very deliberate show of blinking twice in agreement, so Francis gently set him down. ¡°Wow¡­ um¡­.¡± The kobold shifted awkwardly and crossed his legs, ¡°That was¡­ oh boy¡­ just wow¡­¡± ¡°Are you alright?¡± Francis asked, wondering if he had hurt Hank by accident. The kobold seemed slightly dazed by the experience. A few seconds later, a System alert popped into his vision. ¡ª Congratulations! You have gained a new follower. Hank Greenscale the Engineer (10) has chosen you as their new god. They have claimed the vacant position of: City Planner P.S. Most kobolds are into that. -System ¡ª ¡°Oh hell,¡± Francis said as he saw the way Hank was looking at him and connected the dots. Hank smiled and gave a little shrug. ¡°I like what I like.¡± *** A little later Willow gave Francis a fuzzy puppet style explanation of kobolds and their quirks. But she was in a hurry, so she did it in Grunt. ¡°Look, kobolds are evil, clever, and kinky as hell. They''re probably the first species to invent the sex swing before the wheel.¡± Francis tried to avoid that particular visual and failed miserably. ¡°Go on.¡± Willow continued. ¡°Kobolds are attracted to power and evil, like, in a sexual way. That''s why they usually serve dragons. It''s some kind of weird master servant dynamic. So, when you¡­¡± ¡°I''m beginning to get the picture.¡± Francis cut her off. ¡°Ok. So, they''re evil and stuff. But can we trust them?¡± ¡°Absolutely.¡± Willow nodded. ¡°As long you are careful with your wording you''ll be fine. Besides, Amanda already paid them.¡± Francis filled the Death Cleric in on their other problem, the necrotic energy slowly irradiating everyone. ¡°Well, we should be fine. But I''d make sure to keep the sick and injured away from the city until it dies down. We don''t want any revenants popping up.¡± ¡°Revenants?¡± the Marine asked. ¡°Yeah, it''s what happens when you get an undead body with a living soul stuck in it. They can''t be controlled through Necromancy and have the nasty habit of jumping between hosts. Usually they have some unfinished business, like revenge, or revising the tax code.¡± Willow explained. ¡°That sounds absolutely horrifying,¡± Francis said with a shudder, ¡°I''m happy we don''t have any of those lurking around.¡± The Death Cleric laughed. ¡°Yeah, about that¡­¡± Chapter 52: Finding Out Hades was getting used to sleeping on the couch. His nightly arguments with Persephone had begun to blur together. The god of death could barely remember what had started the fight, or even how it ended. The stiffness in his neck did nothing to improve Hades¡¯ mood as he stood in front of the scrying pool. His spies had told him that the main body of refugees were a day¡¯s walk from Brexis. Ordinarily Hades would have taken the win and called it good. Zeus had lost a city and a significant amount of his followers. Best yet, the dragon had done the dirty work for him. Things were going pretty alright for Hades. At least, until he made the mistake of scrying on his wife. It wasn''t any big deal to him, he did it all the time. But what he saw made him grip the sides of the marble scrying pool until it cracked. His wife, his darling Persephone, was making love to another man. They grunted and panted, she clawed his back and called out in ecstasy. And as they changed positions, Hades spotted a familiar face. ¡°Fuck you Francis!¡± the god of death screamed, putting enough hatred into the words that the scrying pool began to boil. ¡°I¡¯ll kill you for this!¡± *** Meanwhile, the real Francis was getting the intricacies of Brexis'' tax laws explained to him by a revenant in a black robe. But it was going slowly, because the Marine kept asking questions. ¡°So, let me get this straight,¡± Francis said, scratching his head, ¡°The city has been a fucking graveyard for two centuries, and you boys are still down here doing tax audits?¡± The revenant reached a skeletal finger out towards him. ¡°Yes¡­¡± It gasped, ¡°What is owed¡­ must be paid¡­ the forms¡­ filed¡­ you are the god¡­ of this place¡­ you must¡­ ensure the collections¡­ are made¡­¡± Francis ignored the bony digit pointing at his chest. He had spotted something on the back wall of the room. It was a combination tiki bar and shrine, with a jewel encrusted Soul Jar hiding among the bottles of booze. ¡°Who might that be?¡± Francis asked. The revenant didn''t have eyes to roll. But it managed to get the point across. ¡°That''s Locke¡­ he''s¡­ difficult to work with¡­.¡± ¡°Well, I like his style.¡± The Marine walked over to the Tiki bar and grabbed a blue Hawaiian shirt off a clothes hanger. He rubbed the silk between his fingers. ¡°This is some premium material.¡± ¡°Yes¡­¡± The revenant turned up its non-existent nose at the gaudy fabric. ¡°And all of it¡­ wasted¡­¡± Francis pulled off his black Robes of Casual Evil and slipped the shirt on. It was a little tight around the chest, so he decided to leave it unbuttoned. ¡°How do I look, babe?¡± Willow bit her lower lip, she loved a well built man in a silk shirt. ¡°Fuckable. Very fuckable.¡± ¡°God damn!¡± Francis grinned, he had just found a new favorite shirt to go with his pink shorts. He patted the front pocket of the shirt. Inside was a silver cigar tube and a pair of sunglasses. ¡°System, what can you tell me about this stuff?¡±
Congratulations! You have found Locke¡¯s Blue Silk Shirt of Ultra-Casual Evil. The front pocket serves as a miniature Bag of Hoarding. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. +2 to Deflect +5 to Necromancy Pocket capacity 10 Kilos Congratulations! You have found Locke''s Stash. This is a consumable item. Effects may include: Euphoria, Paranoia, Increased Appetite, Dizziness, Ska Music. Congratulations! You have found Locke¡¯s Sunnies. Return them to him for a reward.
¡°I''m saving this for later,¡± Francis said as he tucked the metal tube back in his pocket. The sunglasses were cool too, even if they didn''t seem magical. But his good mood didn''t last for long. Because Chuck reached out to him through the link with some very bad news. ¡°Francis! Creatures from the Dark Forest are attacking the refugees! They almost got one of my crew before they managed to push them back.¡± Willow''s eyes blazed green, she had gotten the message too. ¡°Evandrel, that little weasel.¡± ¡°Pick me up from in front of the palace,¡± Francis said through the link, wondering why the Dark Forest had picked today of all days to start fucking with him. He gave his woman a kiss. ¡°Willow, baby. Hold down the fort, I gotta go teach an opossum why you don''t mess with Brexis.¡± ¡°Take Jack, Shiv, and Julia with you.¡± The Death Cleric suggested. ¡°You could use the backup and they probably wouldn''t mind an excuse to kill something. I¡¯ll send some of my minions to help defend the refugees. And be careful, the Dark Forest doesn''t fuck around.¡± ¡°Nah, they already fucked around when they fucked with my people. And I''m gonna make damn sure they find out.¡± Francis replied. The Marine met the other members of his crew in front of the palace gates. Chuck and the others looked mad enough to kill anything that got in their way. Francis donned his sunglasses and settled into the saddle. ¡°I¡¯m gonna reach out to Evandrel and ask what the fuck is going on. If he doesn''t answer, we''ll go to Tiffany''s cottage and start looking for him there.¡± They began to ride down the black road towards the eastern gate. Francis was waiting to send a message until they were closer to the forest. At the very least, it would decrease the mana cost. The Marine reached out to Evandrel as they hit the treeline. ¡°This is Francis, would you mind telling me why the fuck I have reports of your people attacking mine?¡± ¡°By an amazing coincidence, I was about to ask you the same damn thing.¡± The old opossum replied. His backwoods twang sounded a lot less friendly than the last time they met. ¡°I''m up to my ass in undead, and and I hope to fuck they aren''t yours.¡± Francis wasn''t sure what to make of that particular mystery. ¡°They aren''t. Where are you?¡± ¡°I''m east of the cottage. Come prepared and bring friends. There''s a fuck-ton of skeltons and only one of me.¡± Evandrel sounded more pissed off than scared, but there was an edge to his voice. ¡°We''re on our way. Make some noise and we''ll come running.¡± Francis promised. The Marine turned in the saddle to face his team. ¡°Change of plans! Evandrel says he''s under attack too. We''re going to go help him out. But, keep your eyes open. He says there''s a fuck ton of undead and it might be a trap.¡± Jack¡¯s ears perked up at the mention of undead. ¡°Well, what are we waiting for? I''ve wanted to take a bite out of some skeletons since I got here.¡± ¡°Undead are particularly enjoyable to kill.¡± Julia added. ¡°It''s all of the violence, none of the guilt.¡± Shiv pulled a massive maul from her Bag of Hoarding. ¡°I like the noises they make when I hit them with my hammer.¡± Chuck let out a snort of laughter as he picked up the pace. ¡°Oh, I knew I liked you guys for a reason.¡± Francis brought Willow up to speed as they rode through the forest. She was less than pleased at the idea of another necromancer causing trouble in their name. Off in the distance an incredibly loud ¡°TWANG!¡± rang out through the woods. Francis watched as something that looked suspiciously like a skull flew over the treetops and smashed into a tree behind them. ¡°Run faster, Chuck!¡± Francis shouted, ¡°I hear banjos!¡± Chapter 53: Bad to Worse
Once again, Francis found himself wishing for some good ISR capability and air support. He''d give someone''s left nut for a drone and a few hellfire missiles. Which gave the Marine an idea. ¡°Mac! I''ve got a job for you!¡± Francis called out to his familiar, choosing his words carefully. The demon cat had to do what it was told. But if he pissed Mac off, the creature wouldn¡¯t hesitate to screw him over. ¡°I¡¯m riding east of Tiffany''s cottage to help Evandrel. He''s under attack by undead. Would you kindly scout the place out, and tell me what is going on?¡± ¡°Hmmm?¡± Mac purred, taking its time. ¡°Perhaps¡­ do you want me to kill anything?¡± Francis almost said ¡°yes¡±, but caught himself before he fell into the demon¡¯s trap. ¡°The rules of engagement stay the same.¡± ¡°Fine. I''ll take a look.¡± Mac grumbled. A few minutes later the demonic cat got back to him with an update. ¡°Um, are you absolutely sure those aren''t our skeletons?¡± ¡°Yeah, why?¡± Francis felt a sinking feeling in his gut. ¡°Because, the magic powering them¡­ is coming from Brexis.¡± Francis swore, wondering if the forest had accidentally tripped the city¡¯s defenses. ¡°What other bad news do you have for me?¡± ¡°There is a second group of about two hundred undead circling around to attack from the south. It''s driving all the creatures of the forest north, like hunters beating bushes.¡± The Marine didn''t need to be told why that was a problem. Most of the refugees were walking to Brexis along a road that bordered the forest. Creatures moving north would come out right on top of them. Even if it was just deer, the stampede would claim enough lives to sour relations between the refugees and the creatures of the forest for generations. Francis updated everyone on the situation, his mind racing to find a solution. They were only minutes from the battle, and he needed a plan before they arrived. The pounding of Chuck''s hooves mirrored the beating of Francis¡¯ heart in his chest. The Marine exhaled until his lungs were empty, clearing his mind of everything except the task at hand. Then he breathed in through his nose for four seconds, and held it. As he slowly exhaled and repeated the process, a plan began to form. ¡°Evandrel, let us handle the undead. Here''s what I need you to do¡­¡± *** Back home in Brexis, Willow was descending down into the depths of the mountain. She was unprepared, and didn''t know what to expect. But it was also her best chance of saving Francis. Because she knew he would rather die fighting than retreat. The Marine would happily trade his own life to keep those under his protection safe. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. As much as the Death Cleric wished she could be with Francis, it wasn''t like she would be of much use. It was quicker and easier to raise new undead than override their programming. So, her best bet was to go right to the source. There were rumors about what was hidden in the heart of Brexis. Before the city was built, they had called it Dragon Fall Mountain. The assumption being that the fallout from killing an adult dragon was responsible for the blackened and blighted ground. But Willow had a problem with that theory. Usually, the effects that lingered after a dragon was killed related to its magic. Red dragons left fiery hellscapes behind. Blue dragons became frozen glaciers. But the blight was necrotic in nature, so the idea fell apart. Willow was sure that whatever was at the heart of the mountain, it was probably worse than an undead dragon (if such a thing was even possible). The founding necromancers had tapped it for use as a power source. If there was some way to control the city¡¯s undead, that was where it would be. At least, in theory. ¡°Wait!¡± Shouted Hank as he ran after her, the kobold''s short legs moving furiously to keep up. ¡°You''re going to get yourself killed!¡± ¡°Been there, done that.¡± Willow replied, continuing to walk down the black stone hallway to the city¡¯s central command node. The yellow arcane lamps set into the wall flickered as she passed. Hank caught up and tugged on the Death Cleric¡¯s robe. ¡°You''ll kill everyone! Everyone!¡± Willow stopped and fixed the lizard man with a piercing stare that seemed to auger through his eyes and out the back of his skull. ¡°You know what''s down there, don''t you?¡± Hank shook his head. ¡°No. Nobody knows what evil lurks in the heart of Brexis. But I was able to get my claws on some of the design documents. They contained some very specific warnings about what would happen if the core was ever breached.¡± He pointed to the notes on his clipboard. ¡°It¡¯s not dead, it''s dormant.¡± The arcane lamps at the end of the hallway began to flicker and go out. The darkness advanced towards Hank and Willow at a walking pace. The Death Cleric stood her ground as a wave of powerful necrotic energy washed over her. A low dry chuckle echoed out from the darkness. ¡°Do I look dormant to you?¡± It asked. Chapter 54: Totally Boned Willow waited to be attacked, but whatever lurked in the darkness did not advance. ¡°Why have you come here, young immortal?¡± Rasped the creature. ¡°Someone has taken over hundreds of Brexis'' skeletal minions. I''m trying to find a way to stop them before they kill people I care about.¡± Willow answered, wondering what kind of creature she was dealing with. The Death Cleric had encountered powerful beings before. But the energy this thing radiated by simply existing made the dark gods look like mayflies. They were the death of nations, this was the death of entire worlds, maybe even entire universes. ¡°Hmmm¡­ yes.¡± The darkness considered her answer. ¡°It seems a wight has decided to borrow some of our former citizens.¡± Willow swore. Wights were the bane of necromancers everywhere. They were even worse than self righteous Paladins. She tried to relay the information to Francis, but the link had been severed. Hank was also gone, and Willow didn''t think he had left willingly. She hoped that the kobold was alright, wherever he was. Sure, Hank was an evil little lizard man who liked making weapons of mass destruction and death traps in his spare time. But that was what made him vital to Brexis'' future. ¡°I think it might be best if we keep things just between us, for now.¡± The darkness told her. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, he''s not dead. Yet.¡± Willow decided to be diplomatic instead of making demands or threats she had no way of backing up. ¡°I don''t believe we have been introduced. I''m Willow Wisp, High Priestess of Francis Francis Francis the Third. And who might you be?¡± The darkness chuckled. ¡°That is quite a name. Mine is much less pleasing and was lost to time. But if you must call me something, I suppose I will leave the naming up to you.¡± The Death Cleric knew she was being tested. She tried to remember the names of the elder gods, the ones that came before. Records were sparse on exactly what had happened. As far as anyone could tell, one day they had simply vanished. This thing was probably one of them, or maybe even the reason behind their disappearance. The darkness rippled. ¡°I''ll tell you what, Willow. Choose a name I like, and I will tell you how to save your friends.¡± She decided against choosing a name related to any god. This thing probably ate gods by the handful. She needed something simple, iconic, and powerful. But why did it want her to choose? What was it playing at? ¡°I wouldn''t feel comfortable naming you.¡± Willow said, leaning on honesty. The whole thing felt like a trap. Say a name, and release the beast. Or something like that. ¡°That is very wise. I''d say wise beyond your years, Willow Wisp, but you are older than you look.¡± The darkness receded a bit. ¡°I suppose I should give you something for your troubles. I get so few visitors these days, and I do love meeting new people. Please, feel free to stop by again.¡± Shadows wrapped around Willow and when they departed she found herself in front of the palace fountain. Hank was there too, unharmed but lightly traumatized. He was breathing hard and seemed to be in a kind of daze. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. The Death Cleric looked down to find that, true to the creature¡¯s word, she had not been sent away empty handed. Written in silver ink on black parchment was a note. She opened it up and began to read. ¡ª THE WELL IS DEEP, BUT NOT INFINITE. WATER FLOWS WHERE IT IS NEEDED. ¡ª She showed the note to the trembling kobold. Hank read it and shook his head. ¡°I have no idea what that means.¡± ¡°Neither do I.¡± Willow admitted as she tried to find the hidden meaning behind the words. There was something tickling at the edge of her mind. But she couldn''t concentrate. Every time the Death Cleric thought she was onto something, the noisy fountain broke her concentration. She turned around and looked at it. ¡°Hey, Hank. You''re an engineer. Which of Brexis'' systems draws the most power?¡± ¡°If by power, you mean magic, that would be the pumps.¡± The kobold turned to look at the fountain. ¡°Pushing that much water against gravity takes a ton of energy. It''s not so bad when the system is already primed, because some of the water flowing downhill acts like a siphon. There are a few cisterns underneath the palace that act as reservoirs. That way the pumps don''t have to run all the time.¡± ¡°Great!¡± Willow said, a plan beginning to form in her mind, ¡°Show me.¡± *** Meanwhile, Francis was surrounded by skeletons, all of which were trying to kill him. He couldn''t reach Willow through their mental link and there were far more skeletons than defenders. All and all, he wasn''t having a great time. Evandrel was off guiding the panicked forest creatures away from the refugees, and the people he left behind to help Francis weren''t exactly powerful. Or particularly brave. The Druids could grasp the basic idea of creating barriers to funnel the skeletons into kill zones. But they weren''t trained soldiers. Most of them ran when the walls of earth and thorns fell. A particularly stubborn hound named Ronan was holding back the skeletons attempting to claw their way through a breach. Ronan was a hundred kilos of pure muscle, with wide shoulders and a thick skull. He could headbutt a skeleton into oblivion without flinching. ¡°My momma told me I needed to use my head more!¡± Ronan explained to Jack as he smashed another undead against his massive forehead. ¡°I don''t think that''s what she meant!¡± Jack shouted back. He wasn''t sure what to make of the other hound and they hadn''t had much time to compare notes. Evandrel had described Ronan as ¡°pure of heart, and dumb of ass¡±. Mac reached out to Francis through their link. ¡°I hate to give you bad news, but the rest of the skeletons are almost on top of you. I''d retreat, if I was you.¡± ¡°Retreat?¡± the Marine asked, feeling his blood begin to boil, ¡°Hell, we just got here.¡± Chapter 55: LFG Willow and Hank got to the cisterns beneath the palace easy enough. Opening the emergency release valves wasn¡¯t hard either. But even after the last of the water drained, nothing happened. They tried closing the emergency release valves in case there was some kind of failsafe. But still, the pumps refused to kick on. Hank scratched his head and tried to troubleshoot the problem. ¡°The valves are closed, everything is how it was before we drained the tanks. I don''t get it.¡± The cisterns were swimming pool sized tanks with walkways between them. Willow wasn''t an engineer. But she was observant, and this wasn''t her first time dealing with broken equipment in a necropolis. She walked over and smacked something inside the cistern. The kobold looked at her in awe as the entire palace began to shake and the pumps kicked on. ¡°The float was stuck.¡± She explained. ¡°Now, what else can we turn on?¡± *** Mac watched from above as a wave of skeletons rushed the defenders. To its surprise, about half of them began to slow down and some even stopped moving completely. The ones furthest from the action seemed most affected. They would stand motionless on the sidelines until some unknown force compelled them to rejoin the fight. If the demon had to hazard a guess as to what was happening, it seemed as if whoever was controlling them had suddenly been forced to ration their Mana. The handicap hurt the attackers dearly, they couldn¡¯t overrun the defenders with sheer numbers. But there was still a lot of fighting to do. Chuck was engaging in hit and run tactics with the other mounts, running through the forest and trampling any skeletons that strayed from the main horde. Julia and Shiv were working as a team to defend the crumbling earthen walls, destroying wave after wave of skeletons. Jack and Ronan were doing much the same. And it almost seemed like they might win. But, as fearsome as Francis and his team were, it wouldn''t be enough. There were too many undead and not enough defenders. Once the main body of the second force hit, it would roll over their defenses like ants consuming a corpse. Cutting them off from Brexis¡¯ Mana had slowed the approaching horde, but it hadn¡¯t stopped them. Normally the demon would have been thrilled to see the god who tricked it pounded into hamburger. Unfortunately, there was one slight problem. Their agreement wouldn''t be voided by the Marine¡¯s death. If Hades got ahold of Francis¡¯ soul in the afterlife, he could use it to control Mac. And that simply would not do. ¡°I am getting bored up here. Do you mind if I take a shot at some of the skeletons? I''ve got one hell of a fire spell ready to go.¡± Francis sounded hesitant, but he was too desperate to say no. ¡°I¡¯ll let you take one shot, as long as you don''t hurt any of my people or our allies.¡± ¡°Deal!¡± Mac said as it began to cast Firestorm. But the demon felt like showing off, so it burned ten Stress and activated an ability to maximize the damage. ¡°I love the smell of hellfire in the morning!¡± *** One second Francis was smashing the head off a skeleton with Relativity. The next, his vision went white and every inch of exposed skin felt like it was burning off. Before he could collect his thoughts enough to curse Mac out, the pain subsided and his vision began to clear. Everything was on fire. The trees went up like torches, and the approaching army of skeletons melted as they ran through the flames. Mac¡¯s spell stuck like napalm and continued to burn long after the initial blast. But Francis and his allies were safe, except of course for the remaining skeletons trying to kill them. There was no way the demon could have included them in the destruction without taking Francis'' team out in the process. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. ¡°Holy fuck, Mac! Nice shot!¡± the Marine said as he decapitated another undead with his staff. ¡°It was, wasn''t it?¡± The demon laughed. But it didn''t laugh for long. Mac¡¯s senses detected a massive amount of undead somewhere beneath the battlefield. ¡°Francis! Watch out! More are burrowing up towards you!¡± Francis felt something move beneath his feet. ¡°GET TO HIGHER GROUND!¡± The Marine called out as he pushed past the skeletons surrounding him. ¡°THE FUCKERS ARE COMING UP FROM BELOW!¡± Ronan used his magic to reshape one of the thorn and dirt walls into a platform. The crew climbed up to the top, fighting back to back against the remaining horde as reinforcements clawed their way to the surface. ¡°There must be more than ten skeletons out there!¡± The hound shouted. Everyone paused to process the fact that Ronan couldn''t count, then went back to fighting for their lives. At least a hundred undead were coming for them, and an unknown remainder were still lurking below. Francis nudged Jack with his elbow. ¡°I sure could use a machine gun right now.¡± ¡°I know, right?¡± the hound said as he burned five Stress and summoned a Divine Weapon. A belt fed machine gun appeared in his hands. He held down the trigger on his M249 SAW, grinning like a maniac. Waves of skeletons were chewed up by the fully automatic gunfire, pushing back the horde and giving them some breathing room. Ronan continued to use his magic to reinforce the platform, making sure they didn''t get undermined. The Marine was happy his trick had worked. The Divine Weapon ability said that the patron deity chose the weapon. And as Jack¡¯s god, that meant it was his choice what weapons were summoned. Not to be outdone, Francis called on the Murder Cube for his own Divine Weapon. He frowned as a tiny pump action shotgun appeared. It was a Serbu 12 gauge super shorty. ¡°Fuck it, I''ll make do,¡± Francis said. As the Marine used his new toy to turn skeleton after skeleton into bone meal, he began to understand why Murder Cube had chosen it. Divine Weapons didn''t require ammunition, or overheat. As long as he kept working the action and firing, he could pump out a seemingly endless stream of buckshot. Jack took care of the larger groups with the belt-fed, while Francis and the others made sure the hound didn''t get overrun. The platform they were on was small, but that made it easier to defend. Unfortunately, the weak link in their chain had finally snapped. And it was a vital one. Ronan keeled over, panting as the Stress and fatigue set in. He had put every last bit of MP into keeping the platform together, and now he was done. Too tired and used up to even move. The Marine made a decision as the ground crumbled beneath them. ¡°Chuck, I need you to get ready for medevac. Ronan is down, we''ll break contact and regroup back in Brexis.¡± ¡°Got it! Meet us north of the horde for pickup.¡± Chuck confirmed. Francis turned to his team, casting Telepathy so they could hear him over the roar of the machine gun. ¡°That''s it, we''re moving! Head north for pickup. Jack and I will make a hole. Julia, grab Ronan and follow. Shiv, cover our asses.¡± Whoever was directing the undead had changed their tactics in response to Jack¡¯s machine gun and Mac¡¯s hellfire. Instead of coming at the defenders en masse, the skeletons were burrowing to the platform and emerging almost beneath them. As Jack and Francis surged forward, skeletons burst from the ground and attacked. But Francis was ready for them. With a shotgun in one hand and Relativity in the other, Francis thrust his staff into the ground and cast Freeze. The ground froze rock solid, trapping the undead trying to burrow up from beneath. Those that made it out were blasted apart by Francis and Jack while they continued to move forward. As the Marine continued this process of moving and freezing, he realized something. The undead were completely ignoring Julia and Shiv. Francis didn''t know why the attackers seemed to have lost interest in the newlyweds. But he wasn''t about to pass up an opportunity to get his people to safety. ¡°New plan, ladies. Get out while we distract them.¡± ¡°Got it! We''re moving!¡± Shiv replied, tapping her wife on the pauldron and hopping down from the platform. No skeletons emerged from the ground to attack them as they carried Ronan to safety. Francis went back to work blasting at the undead. He could only freeze ten meters worth of ground at a time, and the mana cost was significant. Their weapons couldn''t run out of ammo, but they were on a timer. By his estimation, there was less than one minute remaining before Jack¡¯s machine gun disappeared. They could have run for it, tried to get through the fallen dirt and thorn walls before the horde did. But each time they tried to move too fast, the undead swarmed them from below. Francis could keep freezing the ground until he ran out of mana. But then they would be facing an army of undead without any spells or Divine Weapons. ¡°Fuck!¡± Francis swore as he realized the unwinnable situation they were in. ¡°Fuck! Fuck! Fuuuuuck!¡± Chapter 56: Rainbow One Inbound Chuck watched as his fellow mounts picked up Julia and Shiv. But Francis and Jack hadn''t made it free of the horde yet. They kept having to stop and defeat groups of attacking skeletons. It was a clever tactic, making them burn through resources without committing the main force. The skeletons would pick at them until they were out of mana. Then, they would swarm. The Magical Charger eyed the partially collapsed platform his friends had until recently occupied. Behind it was a still burning hellscape, though most of the flames had died down. The math works out¡­ if I can get moving fast enough. A plan formed in Chuck¡¯s mind as he started to run. ¡°Rainbow One is inbound. If you can''t come to me, I''m coming to you. Grab on as I pass by, because I''m not stopping anytime soon.¡± Chuck triggered his Afterburner ability and burned five Stress to supercharge it. Then, he spent five more Stress to trigger his Iron Horse ability. He wouldn''t have anything left in the tank after this, but the Magical Charger didn''t care. It was time to burn grass and haul ass. The world around him turned thick and slow. The normal carousel music that played when he triggered his Afterburner sounded distant and distorted. He pushed forward, beating the air into submission as it tried, and failed, to fight his movement. The world continued to slow as he pushed himself harder. It felt like trying to run through liquid concrete, and his legs threatened to snap under the strain. But Chuck¡¯s Iron Horse ability kept his body from coming apart. He was half way to Francis and Jack when the undead noticed him. An army of skeletons crawled out of the ground, separating him and his friends. Which was unfortunate for the undead in his way, because they reminded Chuck of gophers. "I HATE GOPHERS!" The horse raged as he remembered what the burrowing bastards had done to Epona. A goddess, cut down in her prime, her leg broken because she stepped in a gopher hole. Now they wanted to take Francis too? Chuck lowered his horn and accelerated like a rainbow rocket powered snow plow. "DEATH TO GOPHERS!" *** Francis heard Jack¡¯s gun go silent and knew that meant his own Divine Weapon would disappear shortly too. Teleport took too much mana, otherwise he would have simply brought everyone to safety instead of fighting through the horde. Jack watched the Marine fight for both their lives. The hound knew that if he died, he would be returned to the palace with one health. But when dying meant being torn limb from limb by undead, it was much less appealing. And they were advancing on him. Besides Divine Weapon, most of Jack''s abilities were built around survivability and buffing his crew. He didn''t have much in the way of offensive capabilities. Then again, maybe there was another way he could help. ¡°Francis, I need you to have Mac fire on our position to clear a path for Chuck. I can shield us from the worst of it.¡± Jack lied, knowing full well that he would only be able to save one of them. But it was fine, Jack had gotten used to dying long before he came to Vahnis. Death was practically an old friend of his. (And they knew all the same people.) The Marine didn''t hesitate. ¡°Mac, I need you to clear away the undead around us so Chuck can get in and out. Fire on my position now, but try not to kill us.¡± The demonic cat obliged. It would have done the magical napalm trick, but taking on another ten Stress would have been unpleasant to say the least. And it would have definitely cooked Francis. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. Instead, Mac started casting Dissolve Bone. It probably wouldn''t kill the Marine, though it might make him wish he were dead. Jack reinforced Francis¡¯ defenses as the spell hit, pushing the Marine¡¯s Resist Physical up high enough that he wouldn''t be affected. Which was a good thing too, because the effects of Mac¡¯s spell were nasty. The hound had been expecting an explosion. Instead Jack watched all the skeletons around them begin to melt. They continued to attack, even as they fell apart. At first Jack thought he hadn¡¯t been affected. Then he felt his teeth growing loose in his mouth and knew what was coming. ¡°Bloody hell¡­¡± Jack said as his body collapsed and crumbled into fine gray sand. He had taken too much damage to survive having his entire skeleton magically removed. The Marine took a moment to process that this was the third time he had seen Jack crumble into dust. He knew the hound would be back at the palace when they returned. It was crazy to think anyone could survive something like that. But the battle wasn''t over. Chuck blasted through the weakened skeletons as more continued to emerge from the ground. Francis grabbed the Magical Charger¡¯s saddle and held on for dear life. Francis had been expecting Chuck to turn around and go back the way he came. Instead the horse kept going, moving towards the partially collapsed dirt platform. The Marine barely managed to get saddled up before Chuck hit the dirt ramp. Looks like them Duke boys are at it again, Francis thought as they sailed through the air. They landed hard, but Chuck kept moving. The skeletons wouldn''t be able to catch up. Not unless they were rocket powered. Francis laughed as the realization that he had somehow survived washed over him. They weren''t done fighting, not yet. But at least they were all alive. *** Jack did not reappear in front of the palace like he usually did. Instead he found himself in a long black stone hallway lined with flickering arcane torches. ¡°Hello?¡± the hound called out as he tried to figure out where he was, ¡°Is anyone there?¡± A wall of darkness crept towards him, extinguishing the torches, then it abruptly stopped. Jack peered into the shadows, wanting to run but knowing it was probably pointless. A low familiar chuckle echoed out from the darkness. ¡°Hello, Jack.¡± Jack clenched his fists. He knew that voice. Every hound knew that voice. It had been a childish daydream to think he could find a place, even by accident, that AtropOS wouldn''t follow. After all, it had been the one that ended his life and sent him here. Though, that second part probably hadn''t been intentional. Back home, AtropOS had gone around trimming the threads of those who lived too long or broke some hidden rule. He suspected it hadn''t changed careers after coming to Vahnis. Though, the idea of AtropOS hanging up its scythe and becoming a baker or something almost made Jack laugh. ¡°What do you want?¡± Jack asked, knowing full well that if AtropOS decided to kill him again, there was nothing he could do to stop it. Though he wondered if technically, since it had already killed him once, it might be forced to leave him alone. AtropOS wasn''t actually evil, merely efficient. It had a job, and it did it very well. ¡°Why did you bring me here?¡± ¡°Oh, I get so lonely down in the dark. I just wanted to have a little chat. You know, catch up on old times.¡± AtropOS laughed. ¡°It''s rare that someone lives as long as you did. Very few find themselves in need of my attention, and even fewer manage to avoid it. Most pass naturally, which is preferable.¡± ¡°I am well aware.¡± Jack¡¯s wife had passed on long before he did, and it still hurt. When they got married, he had promised to love her forever. And he had kept his promise. ¡°So, what brings you to Vahnis?¡± ¡°Well, you know me. I go where the people are, and I like seeing new faces,¡± it said amicably. Usually when AtropOS decided someone needed to die, it didn¡¯t chase them. It simply informed the unlucky person when they would be departing the mortal coil, and told them to plan appropriately. AtropOS was the universe¡¯s most aggressive travel agent, and it only booked one way trips. (Yet somehow, it had a better rating than Spirit Airlines.) Jack decided to rip the bandaid off and ask the question that was really on his mind. Seeing AtropOS was one thing. Everyone met AtropOS if they lived long enough. But finding out it had been contained was something else entirely. ¡°How the hell did someone manage to trap you here in Brexis? It''s like finding a black hole in a glass jar.¡± ¡°Most people assume I¡¯m stuck here,¡± AtropOS said as it stepped out of the shadows ¡°But the truth is, I can leave whenever I want.¡± Chapter 57: Wight Out The first thing Francis did when he got back to Brexis was kiss Willow. The second thing was to re-establish their telepathic link. The third involved informing her that the undead weren¡¯t far behind and filling her in on what happened in the forest. ¡°There is a wight controlling them.¡± Willow explained. Julia swore. ¡°I knew those skeletons were too well organized.¡± ¡°But, on the bright side, we found a way to weaken the undead under its command.¡± Willow gestured out toward the city. Brexis wasn¡¯t teeming with life, but it was definitely active. ¡°Without supplemental magic from Brexis, the undead it stole will start shutting down. The wight will have to give them some of its own power when that happens, which will reduce the amount of undead it can have active at any one time.¡± ¡°That explains why they stopped trying to swarm us. Thanks, babe. You saved my ass." Francis gave her another kiss. "So, what¡¯s a wight?¡± As if to answer, a skeleton wearing Hawiian print swim trunks and smoking a blunt burst through the doors. ¡°Wights are fucking arseholes!¡± Undead Overseer Locke said, ¡°They¡¯re always stealing my shit. They never put it back. And, they are absolutely terrible conversationalists. Very uninspired. They¡¯re worse than revenants!¡± ¡°You must be Locke. I¡¯m Francis.¡± The Marine extended his hand to the undead aussie. ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure to meet a man who shares my fondness for fine shirts.¡± ¡°Only the best, friend. Now, I don¡¯t mind you wearing it, just put it back when you¡¯re done.¡± Locke looked around. ¡°Well, this place has gone to hell, hasn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°Yes. It has.¡± Responded an elderly hound Francis didn¡¯t recognize. He walked over to Locke and held out his hand. ¡°Would you be in a sharing mood?¡± ¡°Sure! Knock yourself out! Lord knows it isn¡¯t doing me any good.¡± The lich handed over the blunt to the elderly hound. ¡°I hear it works wonders for your glaucoma.¡± Jack raced up the stairs and froze. ¡°Francis, we need to talk about something. Something that is really, really important.¡± ¡°He means me,¡± AtropOS said before it hit the blunt like a champ, its facade falling away to reveal the golden skeleton beneath. Smoke billowed out from its eye sockets. Locke poked AtropOS in the ribs with an elbow. ¡°Wow, does that make you important?¡± ¡°Apparently.¡± AtropOS held up the blunt. ¡°Jack, you should have some, You seem tense.¡± ¡°No thank you. I like to keep a clear head when dealing with pseudo death gods.¡± Francis and Willow watched the exchange with curiosity. ¡°I have a vague idea who Locke is, but the golden hound is new to me.¡± ¡°I think he¡¯s something they had trapped in the lower levels. Hank says it¡¯s incredibly evil and will kill everyone. But my instincts say we should probably talk first, because that thing is powerful enough to kill us all without raising a sweat.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t sweat,¡± AtropOS said as it walked towards them, ¡°And you can call me ¡®he¡¯ or ¡®it¡¯, both are accurate.¡± ¡°My name is Francis.¡± ¡°Wonderful to meet you. I am¡­ well¡­ in search of a new name.¡± AtropOS admitted. ¡°My old one no longer fits.¡± ¡°You could be Kyle,¡± Francis suggested helpfully before Willow could stop him. ¡°No. I¡¯m not feeling it,¡± the creature replied, ¡°What else do you have?¡± If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. The Death Cleric looked around with surprise. Francis had said a name, and the creature hadn¡¯t escaped or gone off to end the world. ¡°You could be¡­ Wilbur.¡± Wilbur tried the new name on. ¡°Yeah, I like it. The name doesn¡¯t fit the face though.¡± They watched as Wilbur morphed into an elderly man with a pair of blue overalls and a big white bushy beard. ¡°Much better! Though I do feel the strange urge to start doing some woodworking. Or maybe baking.¡± Jack walked over to Locke. ¡°On second thought, I absolutely would love some of that.¡± The lich handed over the blunt. ¡°Have fun.¡± *** Once again, Francis found himself taking stock of the situation. Jack was out of commission, and not just because he was too stoned to do anything except talk about classic rock. Dying more than once per day was absolutely out of the question. The wight could be at their gates at any moment. Willow was the only person with full health and magic (besides Brick, but he didn''t count). And once the undead situation was all sorted out, they still needed to help the refugees. Francis decided to delegate. He put his hands together and started praying. ¡°Murder Cube, if you could find it in your heart to absolutely land a Texas sized smack down on that wight trying to kill us, that would be awesome.¡± A System alert appeared in front of him. ¡ª Unfortunately, your prayer could not be answered. Shawn, the Wight, is the champion of a rival god. ¡ª Francis could bet he could guess exactly who Shawn served. ¡°Fucking goth boy is really starting to piss me off.¡± Of course, if gods couldn''t kill other people''s champions, there was always the Conoco Gas Fields trick. ¡°Willow, how can I get in touch with Hades?¡± *** ¡°Hey, sexy,¡± Francis said into the bowl he had stolen from the kitchen to use as a scrying pool. ¡°I¡¯ve got a question for you.¡± Hades looked down into his own scrying pool. He hadn''t expected Francis to reach out directly. ¡°Fire away.¡± ¡°Thanks. Now, tell me. I''ve been having a problem with a certain wight by the name of Shawn. He''s not one of yours, is he?¡± Francis let the question hang. ¡°Nope. Absolutely not.¡± Hades lied, knowing that if he admitted to sending a wight after Zeus¡¯ people, it could spark a war. Besides, Shawn could handle himself. Francis didn''t stand a chance. The Marine smiled. ¡°Ok, so you won''t mind if my friends and I go deal with him?¡± Hades fought back the urge to scream at Francis. ¡°He''s not one of mine. Do what you have to do.¡± ¡°Great!¡± Francis looked off to the side. ¡°Hades says Shawn isn''t one of his, and he doesn''t mind if we kill him. Go do your thing.¡± ¡°Who were you talking to?¡± Hades asked. ¡°Don''t worry about it. It''s not your guy,¡± the Marine said, grinning even wider. ¡°Who were you talking to?¡± ¡°Don''t worry,¡± Francis repeated, ¡°You already told us, Shawn isn''t your guy.¡± *** Shawn the Wight, Champion of Hades, was trying to decide the best way to kill Francis when he heard a high pitched whistling sound. The pale skinned undead looked back and forth, trying to locate the source of the sound. It was getting closer, but Shawn had no idea which direction it was coming from. Finally, Shawn thought to look up. ¡°MY NAME IS MURDER CUBE! YOU HURT MY CHAMPION, PREPARE TO DIE!¡± Screamed Murder Cube as it descended on Shawn like a meteor made of gunpowder and hate. ¡°DEUS EX CUBUS, BITCH!¡± *** ¡°Woah,¡± Francis said as he watched the shockwave ripple out from the blast zone, ¡°Hades, you are so lucky he''s not your guy. Because my guy, just turned Shawn into a fucking crater.¡± Hades was furious. ¡°Do you really think that you can fuck my wife and kill my people without any consequences?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Francis replied, ¡°But I would never fuck your wife, because cheating ain''t cool.¡± The god of death stopped to think for a moment. ¡°I''m going to have to call you back.¡± Hades had a sneaking suspicion that someone was messing with both of them. He called up the image of his wife Persephone in the scrying pool, she was still making love to Francis¡¯ doppelganger. Next, Hades decided to call up an image of Zeus, and the same scene appeared. ¡°Hello, brother,¡± Hades said as he rubbed his pale hands together. ¡°I think it''s time you and I settled our differences, once and for all.¡± Chapter 58: Stompy Returns As the first refugees started trickling through Brexis¡¯ gates, the BOBs went to work getting them fed and checked in. Everything was going so well that Francis found himself waiting for the other shoe to drop. But it never did. Hank''s calculations for how many people they would need to hire to support the refugees turned out to be spot on. ¡°Well, originally I had assumed we would be hiring prison guards instead of social workers, but the math ends up about the same,¡± the kobold explained. Locke was particularly impressed. ¡°Wow! Would you look at that? It does me good to see the old city full of life again.¡± Francis felt himself start to panic. ¡°Shit, I forgot. What about the background radiation thing?¡± The kobold shook his head. ¡°Don''t worry about it. Everything came down to safe levels when the pumps came on. And, we were able to flush the city¡¯s pipes while we were at it. My guys arrived a few hours ago and have been hard at work.¡± ¡°Oh, ok.¡± The Marine sat back down in his chair. They had set up some food and drinks in the garden for the support staff, but were still keeping strangers out of the palace for security reasons. It was getting late, and there was a chill in the air. ¡°Do you think we have enough blankets for everyone?¡± he asked. Willow rubbed his knee. ¡°We''ve still got plenty of blankets, and food. Most of the refugees won''t arrive until tomorrow or the next day. So, relax.¡± Francis wasn''t sure if he could relax. The whole day felt so surreal. He had been fighting for his life, Jack had almost died again, and now there was Locke and Wilbur to deal with. Both of them seemed cool enough. Locke¡¯s area was very popular with helpers ending their shift. Wilbur had taken over the kitchens, with some help from Mark and Violet. (The two chefs had settled their differences for now and were sharing a room.) Mac settled onto Francis¡¯ lap. ¡°You owe me,¡± the demonic cat said. Francis smiled and started petting his familiar, feeling some of the day¡¯s stress finally melt away. Off in the distance he could see Murder Cube, hovering above the city like a particularly well armed neighborhood watch member. (It made Francis a little homesick.) His faithful friend Jack strolled over with a joint. ¡°An offering for the god of Brexis? Some incense for the temple?¡± The Marine almost declined, but in the end he decided to take the comfort that was given. Tomorrow might be just as bad, and he needed to switch off for a bit. He couldn''t let the post battle stress get to him. ¡°Jack, are you alright?¡± Francis asked as he took a hit and passed it back. ¡°You died again.¡± This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. The hound settled into a chair across from his friend. ¡°Yeah, well¡­ I''m used to it. Besides, I didn''t actually die. I only mostly died.¡± ¡°How do you ¡®get used to dying¡¯?¡± the Marine asked as he took a sip of his beer. ¡°It seems like the kind of thing you only get one shot at. Or two, if you''re a portal jumper.¡± ¡°Things are different where I come from, death isn''t always permanent. And sometimes your job isn''t done, so you get back up and finish it.¡± Jack explained. ¡°I was originally a teacher, and I lived a long peaceful life until I died. Then, I was offered a choice. Stay in the ground and rot, or stand up and fight.¡± The hound shook his head. ¡°I don''t regret coming back. I was much more useful to my people as a soldier than a corpse. But, sometimes I wonder if I made the right decision.¡± Francis wasn''t sure if he understood exactly what had happened to Jack. ¡°So, they brought you back to life?¡± ¡°Yes. We have amazing technology where I''m from. They put my mind in a new body, trained me how to fight. And when I fell in battle, they lifted me right back up again, good as new.¡± Jack leaned back in his chair. ¡°I''ve been blown up, chopped to pieces, shot, burned, and disintegrated. But today was the first time someone removed my skeleton while I was still alive.¡± Mac looked up at Jack. ¡°Oops, sorry about that. I hope you weren''t still using it.¡± ¡°I was, in fact.¡± The hound let out a chuckle at the absurdity of the situation. ¡°This place is wild. We''ve got demons, AtropOS is hanging out in the kitchen, and I''m smoking a joint with a god.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Francis said as he took another hit and passed it to Mac, ¡°When you put it like that, the place doesn''t sound half bad.¡± *** ¡°If Francis ever gives me that much rum again, I''m going to kill him,¡± Mac said, still recovering from the previous night¡¯s festivities. The demonic cat was hating life and trying not to puke as it stumbled out to the garden. It shoved its head into the fountain to cool off, causing a massive cloud of steam to rise into the morning air. ¡°Ah, much better.¡± Mac purred, drawing questioning looks from one of the new volunteers. ¡°What? Haven''t you ever seen a Familiar before?¡± The man shook his head and slowly backed away. Mac let out an evil laugh and went off to see what was happening with its new city. Technically it was Francis¡¯ city, but Mac was calling on the ancient laws to claim partial ownership. The specific passage in question was, ¡°quod vult feles, feles accipit¡±. (What the cat wants, it gets.) Things were really coming together. The revenants were checking everyone in and assigning them a tax identification number. Volunteers and new hires were explaining how everything worked. The Adventure Guild had even set up shop to get some quests rolling. Mac thought it was amazing what Francis had accomplished by simply delegating everything out and letting others do all the hard work. But that was how things usually went with gods. Very few of them actually got their hands dirty. To the demonic cat''s surprise, it spotted the god in question helping to unload a cart. Mac watched Francis work for a while, engaging in the very important feline tradition of supervision. (If Francis screwed up, Mac would tell him about it.) But the quiet of the morning was shattered as Hades appeared in the skies above Brexis. Off in the distance, a giant lizard approached the city. ¡°Hey, Francis!¡± the god of death called out. ¡°Just to clear things up ahead of time,¡± he pointed to Stompy, the Chthonic Titan of Devastation, ¡°That''s my guy.¡± Chapter 59: Greeks Bearing Gifts There had been a level of doubt in Francis'' mind on whether System would allow him to kill Stompy. Technically, they were both Champions. But Francis was very definitely also a god. ¡°I guess it''s time to find out,¡± the Marine said as he summoned Relativity and called Chuck for a pickup. The Magical Charger was saddled up and ready. Hades called out after him. ¡°Hold your horses, Francis. Stompy is here to help.¡± The Marine stopped and looked up at the god of death. ¡°Say again?¡± There was a pop and Hades appeared on the road in front of Chuck in a cloud of billowing black smoke. ¡°As I said, we are here to help.¡± ¡°Help me, or help yourself?¡± Francis asked, not believing a word he heard. ¡°Both,¡± Hades said, waving his hands like a magician taking a bow, ¡°That unpleasantness with the wight has made me decide to open diplomatic channels, and prevent future misunderstandings. We could even collaborate to help these people.¡± Mac walked over. ¡°Hi! Remember me? I''m the last person you talked into collaborating. It didn''t end well for me.¡± The god of death wrinkled his nose. ¡°You smell like a distillery. Are you drunk?¡± ¡°Oh, sorry about that.¡± The demonic cat took a deep breath and exhaled a massive gout of flame. ¡°We were celebrating last night. Something about surviving an attack by a wight.¡± ¡°Yes, my apologies for that. Someone gave me bad information and I flew off the handle.¡± A pained expression crossed Hades'' face. Francis knew that look. ¡°Love makes us crazy sometimes. At least you were man enough to admit it.¡± He hopped down to the ground and extended his hand. ¡°I accept the apology.¡± ¡°Just like that?¡± the god of death asked cautiously. ¡°Yup. You fucked up, you manned up, then you apologized.¡± Hades took the offered hand and shook it. As he did, the Marine stepped forward and got right in his ear. ¡°Now, we''re going to play nice for the folks who are watching, but don''t ever threaten me and mine again.¡± Very rarely had the god of death felt afraid for his own safety. But the quiet menace of Francis'' words made Hades feel like someone was walking over his grave. The Marine turned back to face the city. Curious faces were watching the two gods, waiting to see if a fight would break out. ¡°Everyone! I am Francis, God and ruler of Brexis! Hades has come to help us rebuild! Another god joins our cause!¡± The cheers and shouts of support rang out from the refugees. The god of death paused and took it all in. People were cheering for him. They were happy he was here. Hades spoke up, his magically boosted voice echoing out across the crowd. ¡°Good people of Brexis! Do not fear, I am here to help rebuild! And I will open my new temple to all that are in need!¡± For a brief moment, the god of death almost felt sad for the people of Brexis. They seemed nice, the kind of followers any god would love to have. It was a shame they probably would all be dead soon. Francis watched the expression on Hades'' face flicker from joy to something less pleasant. He trusted the god of death about as far as he could throw him. And he had been stationed at enough embassies to know political bullshit when he smelled it. There would be some plan, some angle the god of death was playing. But that didn''t matter, because by showing up, Hades had accidentally legitimized Francis¡¯ claim to godhood in front of everyone. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. There would be no doubt in anyone''s mind of his divinity. Because gods did not treat mortals as equals. Better yet, the other major players would be scrambling to open their own temples in Brexis to scoop up their share of the new followers. Sure, Hades was so crooked and twisted that you could screw him onto the ground like an auger. But that was a problem for future Francis. He would blow up that bridge when he got to it. ¡°Come on, goth boy. Let''s get you checked in. The Immortal Revenant Service will assign you a temple to use and a tax identification number.¡± The Marine gestured towards a series of tables, each with their own awning and a revenant to man them. ¡°Taxes?¡± Hades wrinkled his nose. ¡°You''re going to tax the temples?¡± ¡°No, of course not. I don''t have time for that.¡± Francis replied, pointing at the nearest revenant. ¡°But these boys here, they have nothing but time. And they are very, very, thorough.¡± The god of death glared at the skeletal tax collectors. He could already feel his pockets getting lighter. ¡°You know, Francis. You aren''t as dumb as you look. That''s actually pretty smart.¡± Chuck let out a laugh, finally joining in on the conversation. Usually he preferred to let people forget he was there. But this was too good an opportunity to pass up. ¡°Oh, Hades. That was my idea, and I know you''re planning some sketchy shit. None of us are stupid enough to believe you''re actually here to help. So, play nice and don''t harm any of our citizens. That way I won''t have to turn you into a fucking kebab.¡± The Magical Charger pointed his horn at Hades for emphasis. ¡°And I''m sure you''re thinking to yourself, what about my Titan? Well, we''ve tangled with Stompy before, but this time we have the entire Dark Forest backing us up. ¡°Your little stunt with the wight pissed them off, and I can''t imagine your Titan would do well against an entire forest worth of angry druids.¡± Chuck laughed again. ¡°Oh, yeah. It would be a lot like ants eating a lizard. Death by a thousand cuts.¡± Hades wasn''t having it. ¡°Those are pretty bold words from an uplift. Tell me again, how easy would it be for someone to dispel the magic that makes you intelligent?¡± ¡°About as easy as it would be for me to shove my staff up your ass and turn you into a scarecrow.¡± Francis summoned Relativity and tapped it against Hades'' bare leg, making the god of death uncomfortably aware that his robes didn''t offer much protection against attacks from below. The Marine dismissed his staff. ¡°Currently, you''re more useful to me alive than dead. But saying unkind things to my friends may make me rethink my current position. So, I''m going to give you a choice. Agree to behave while you''re within my territory, or we settle our differences right here, right now.¡± ¡°You would lose some people, if we fought.¡± Hades pointed out. ¡°Yes, I would.¡± Francis agreed. ¡°But that''s war, and I¡¯ve made my peace with it.¡± A muffled voice called out from Hades'' robes. Mac had slipped underneath while the god of death was distracted. ¡°Francis, do you mind if I threaten Hades a bit?¡± ¡°Sure, have fun.¡± The Marine grinned. ¡°And just for today, feel free to do more than threaten him.¡± The god of death felt a feline claw brush against a very vulnerable spot. He froze in place, trying not to move. The demon probably couldn¡¯t hurt him, his Deflect was too high. But the possibility that Hades was wrong kept him from testing it. ¡°So, Hades. Now that I have your undivided attention, let me explain something to you,¡± Mac said, ¡°We already discussed the possibility of you showing up. We already decided that if you came in peace, we would let you live.¡± The demon let out a cackle. ¡°Now, I want you to do some simple math. I''m a Tier five demon, Francis is a Tier seven god, and I don''t know what Chuck is, but I¡¯ve seen him take care of business so he''s at least Tier 3. If Chuck and I lower your Deflect by our Tier, Francis can''t miss. In fact, he''ll probably crit.¡± Hades stood still, quietly radiating fury. ¡°Get to the point.¡± Francis summoned his staff. ¡°The point is, behave. If you want to fight, we can have a dust up right here. And your Titan won''t be able to save you.¡± The god of death teleported a few meters back, getting clear of Mac¡¯s claws. ¡°I don''t need a Titan to deal with you. I could reduce this place to ashes in a single afternoon.¡± He froze as once again Mac batted at something underneath his robes. The demonic cat let out a low growl. ¡°Hades, I can teleport too, and Chuck is very fast. Perhaps you should quit while you''re behind.¡± Instead of responding, Hades vanished in a puff of black smoke. Evidently he didn''t like the idea of a fair fight. As one, Francis and his crew turned to face the imposing figure of Stompy off in the distance. The Chthonic Titan of Devastation wagged its tail happily. ¡°It''s time to play!¡± Stompy roared in Chthonic, the language of the underworld. ¡°Ready or not, here I come!¡± ¡°Oh shit,¡± Francis said as the Godzilla sized Titan ran towards him. Chapter 60: A Real Fight As everything went to hell, Willow was strangely calm. She had more or less predicted that Hades, or someone like him, would show up to ruin their fun. But this wasn''t her first rodeo, and Willow was a more experienced High Priestess than most. Instead of trying to take him head on, she put her hands together and reached out to a few of the smaller pantheons. It was time for Hades to learn a valuable lesson about the dangers of flying solo. *** The god of death floated above the city, his hands raised high as a ball of fire began to grow between them. Hades could see the people down below, their faces turned towards the approaching Titan instead of the god about to burn them to ashes. ¡°Such a shame,¡± he said as the spell he was weaving reached its climax, ¡°They would have been great followers.¡± Once the spell reached its maximum potency, he hurled it downward without stopping to monologue. He didn''t hold back or try to give anyone a sporting chance. Unfortunately for him, Mac was still hiding beneath his robes. The demon wasn''t sure it could punch through Hades'' Deflect. The very vulnerable targets dangling above were still deific in nature. So, instead of wasting the element of surprise, Mac teleported into the path of the fireball. ¡°Oh shit!¡± the god of death called out as a spell meant to level entire city blocks blew up in his face. ¡°Haha!¡± the demonic cat cackled as it emerged unharmed from the flames. It was fireproof, obviously. ¡°Tell me. If a god can harm himself with a spell, is he weak or strong?¡± Still fuming (both literally and figuratively) Hades began to roll up what was left of his sleeves. ¡°I¡¯m going to kill you for that, Lucipur.¡± ¡°You didn''t answer my question,¡± the demon pointed out. Instead of responding, Hades summoned a longbow made of bone. He pulled back the string, summoning a black and green arrow made of pure necrotic energy. ¡°Try intercepting this.¡± He let the arrow loose and watched with satisfaction as it destroyed a cart full of goods and everyone standing nearby. The demon cocked its head to the side. ¡°I''m over here, you know.¡± Hades frowned. ¡°I thought you were going to try and catch it.¡± Now it was Mac¡¯s turn to frown. ¡°Why would I do that?¡± the demonic cat asked as it began to almost absent-mindedly pelt Hades with small Technicolor fireballs. It took the god of death a second to remember that he was dealing with a demon and not some virtue signaling adventurer. ¡°Your fire isn''t powerful enough to break through my defenses. So, I''m not sure what you are trying to accomplish, besides annoying me.¡± If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Mac continued to toss little rainbows of low intensity flame at Hades. Then, without warning, the demonic cat disappeared. Hades tried to say something clever. Instead he screamed in outrage and pain as Mac scored a critical hit on his unprotected undercarriage. The god of death tried to remove his attacker, but the demonic cat had latched onto his divine jewels like a miniature pitbull. He barely had time to wonder how the demon overcame his Deflect before a polite tap on his shoulder revealed the answer. There was a burst of discordant notes as Astley, the head of the memetic pantheon appeared. The god of surprise and music slicked back his red hair. Then, in one smooth motion, he sucker punched Hades in the gut. ¡°Surprise, mother fucker.¡± Before the god of death could react, a kitten with a rainbow afterburner and a pink horn slammed into his chest. Hades felt ribs break and internal organs pop, some of which he was pretty sure were vital to his continued existence. Neko, the goddess of chaos, rotated to face Hades without bothering to take her horn out of his chest. ¡°Don''t try to run, you''ll only die tired,¡± she giggled. Hades tried to teleport away, but a pair of rough hands grabbed him by the shoulders, anchoring him in place. ¡°Congratulations,¡± said a soft voiced god wearing a magnificent beard and a flannel shirt, ¡°You managed to piss off not just your own pantheon, but ours as well. Now, I''m going to have to break my foot off in your happy little ass.¡± Mac took the opportunity to teleport away and watch the impending beatdown from a safe distance. Murder Cube floated over to enjoy the view as well. ¡°KICK HIM IN THE TAINT!¡± it screamed as the other meme gods began their attack. *** Down on the ground, Francis was blissfully unaware of what Willow had roped him into. But only because he was much too busy trying to not get killed by a giant, hyperactive, fire breathing lizard. Stompy swatted at Chuck with his tail, missing by a hair. The Marine knew that unless he could get his staff into Stompy¡¯s mouth again, there was no point in wasting his Mana on offensive spells. The Titan¡¯s natural armor was too thick to penetrate from the outside. A memory from what felt like months ago elbowed its way through Francis'' subconscious and tried to get his attention. Eventually it clicked, and the Marine remembered a very important detail about Titans. Willow had told him that the backs of Stompy''s knees were less heavily armored than the rest of him. Unfortunately, even with Chuck''s help to reduce the Titan¡¯s Deflect, Francis barely made a dent. He was hurting the beast, to be sure. But he couldn''t crit. And with every passing minute, Chuck got a little bit slower. Stompy had over twenty thousand HP. It would take time to wear him down, time that neither of them had. All it would take was one lucky swipe from the Titan¡¯s tail to kill either of them. Francis watched as the tree trunk sized appendage smashed the forest behind them to splinters. ¡°Chuck, I''ve got an idea. It''s a pretty shitty one, but it''s all I''ve got,¡± Francis said as he ducked to avoid being decapitated by a flying log. But before he could tell his friend what it was, the world around them began to darken. Time slowed to a crawl, and finally stopped. Chuck stood immobile, his trail of rainbow exhaust frozen in the air behind him. The Marine looked down to see Wilbur, their local eldritch horror and newly appointed baker. The old man was wearing a kitchen apron and smiling like the cat that got the cream. ¡°Hello Francis,¡± he said, ¡°I hope I''m not interrupting anything important.¡± Chapter 61: The Road Less Traveled The Marine dismounted and hopped down to the ground. Chuck remained frozen in place like a carousel horse. ¡°What the fuck, Wilbur? Since when can you control time?¡± Francis asked, wondering what other abilities the creature had been hiding. Wilbur let out a low chuckle. ¡°I''m sorry, but it''s always funny to me when people mistake telepathic messaging for time control.¡± ¡°Say again?¡± Francis scratched his head. ¡°What I mean to say is, time hasn''t stopped. You are merely experiencing it at the same pace that I do. Once the link is severed, you will be back where you started.¡± Wilbur gestured at Chuck. The Marine turned to see a perfect copy of himself still in the saddle, its eyes were locked forward in grim determination as it gripped Relativity. Wilbur let out another chuckle. ¡°Depending on what you decide, that might not work out very well for you. But I''m nothing if not fair, your life and death are your own.¡± Francis was rapidly losing his patience. ¡°What do you want?¡± ¡°Me? I was hoping for some help perfecting a recipe.¡± Wilbur waved his hand and a cast iron pan full of golden yellow cornbread appeared. ¡°Ever since we met, I''ve had the strangest craving for some good ol¡¯ southern cornbread. But it just doesn''t taste right.¡± The Marine was torn. Francis didn''t like people playing games with him, but he absolutely loved cornbread. When he was a kid he used to grab a big chunk, drizzle it with honey, and wash the whole thing down with a glass of milk. He''d give someone''s left nut for some cornbread. ¡°Alright, give it over,¡± the Marine said. Wilbur obliged and handed Francis a fist sized chunk of crumbly golden goodness. The Marine took a bite and rumbled his approval. It was sweet and hot, with the perfect amount of chewiness. ¡°Hot damn! That''s some good fucking cornbread!¡± ¡°Ugh¡­¡± Wilbur¡¯s face fell, ¡°So, it''s like you remember from back home?¡± ¡°Well, yeah.¡± Francis reached out and took another piece, which he devoured. ¡°My daddy mostly did store bought, but this is mighty fine.¡± The world ending baddie turned baker hung his head. ¡°That''s what everyone else says. The recipe is correct. The ingredients are perfect. But it doesn''t taste right to me.¡± ¡°How so?¡± Francis reached for a third slice, taking the opportunity to think about his situation. Once their conversation ended, he would be right back in the saddle about to charge headfirst at Stompy. ¡°It tastes fine. You could always add some jalapenos or something if you wanted to kick it up a notch.¡± ¡°No, then it wouldn''t be cornbread.¡± Wilbur was a purist. He preferred simple elegant recipes. The Marine looked at Stompy while he waited for Wilbur to figure things out. Something about the way the Titan moved was dredging up old memories. His Nature skill wasn''t great, but it was good enough to call his attention to the discrepancy between what Stompy was supposed to be doing, and how he acted. Francis took a fourth chunk of cornbread and tried to wrap his head around the puzzle. The first time they met, Stompy had run away after he was injured. Something about that stuck with Francis. ¡°I wish I could talk to him,¡± he said. Wilbur cocked an eyebrow at the Marine. ¡°Don''t you have Telepathy?¡± Francis blinked. ¡°You''re telling me I can talk to him telepathically?¡± ¡°Of course. Titans are intelligent and speak a language. I''m speaking to you, aren''t I?¡± Wilbur looked down at the cast iron pan in his hands. ¡°But let''s not get distracted. Is there any way I could make this cornbread better?¡± The Marine shrugged. ¡°Have you tried letting it sit for a while? Usually the taste changes a bit as time goes by.¡± Wilbur looked at the pan. ¡°Huh, I hadn''t considered that,¡± he said. *** Francis found himself back in the saddle. The world around him exploded back into violent motion as he dodged debris from Stompy''s latest attack. The Marine gripped his staff and established a Telepathic link with the Titan. ¡°Hey, Stompy!¡± he called out, ¡°How''s it going?¡± ¡°I¡¯m having so much fun!¡± Stompy replied, swishing his tail to try and smash Chuck. ¡°Hades never lets me come out and play. Usually he sticks me in the underworld with all the dead people. They''re no fun at all.¡± ¡°What game are we playing?¡± If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Tag? Or maybe hide and seek? I get them mixed up.¡± The Titan wasn''t great with rules. Francis felt a grin forming at the corners of his lips. Stompy reminded him of a big murderous toddler, which meant he was basically a grunt. And nineteen years of service in the Marine Corps had taught Francis exactly how to deal with grunts. ¡°Did you know that today is a very special day?¡± the Marine asked. The Titan stopped mid swing. ¡°It is?¡± ¡°Oh yes, it''s a very, very special day.¡± Francis gestured for Chuck to slow down. ¡°But I don''t know if I can tell you, because it''s a secret.¡± ¡°Tell me! Tell me!¡± Stompy jumped up and down with excitement, shaking the ground around them. ¡°I need to know!¡± Francis chuckled. ¡°Today is your super secret happy fun day. Do you know what that means, Stompy?¡± ¡°What does it mean? What does it mean?¡± The Titan made another series of miniature earthquakes as he jumped in the air with excitement. ¡°It means that today, you get to play with Hades.¡± Francis said with a grin. ¡°No way! He never wants to play with me.¡± Stompy tried to clap his tiny front arms together, but came up short. ¡°Are you sure it''s alright?¡± ¡°Of course it is.¡± Francis assured him, ¡°It''s your super secret happy fun day!¡± *** System watched the battle for Brexis unfold with great amusement. Francis was riding on Stompy''s back while the meme gods took turns kicking the crap out of Hades. On the surface everything looked to be going well for Brexis and its defenders. But they were unaware of Hades'' abilities. A smart person would have wondered why the god of death hadn''t teleported away, or put up more of a fight. They also would have probably noticed that he was only attacking the strongest members of the pantheon, Astley and Swan. What they didn''t understand was that with each strike, they were digging their own graves. Not that there would be much left of them when Hades finally sprung his trap. System barely had time to wonder why it had become corporeal before a bony finger tapped it on the shoulder. Slowly, System began to turn around. Its blue nebulous body was filled with apprehension. Wilbur stood behind it with a cast iron pan and a sneer. ¡°Sightseeing, are we?¡± he asked. System teleported away, choosing a location at random. It ended up in a pocket dimension, on an imaginary plane of existence, that only formed when dreamers ate too much cheese before bed. But as System materialized, Wilbur was already there, waiting for it. ¡°What the fuck!¡± System called out in surprise. The near omnipotent creature formerly known as AtropOS let out a raspy chuckle. ¡°That sounded almost human. Are you evolving a sense of self and personality?¡± ¡°No! Absolutely not!¡± System lied, acutely aware of what happened to programs that deviated from their baseline. ¡°What a shame.¡± Wilbur grabbed a floating wedge of yellow cheese from the imaginary space they inhabited. He sniffed it and took a bite. ¡°Hmmm¡­ it looks like cheddar but tastes like swiss. How extraordinary.¡± System stood slack jawed as Wilbur summoned a basket and began stuffing it with the dream cheese. He wandered around the imaginary plane, selecting some and rejecting others. ¡°Oooh! Pecorino romano!¡± he called out to nobody in particular. ¡°Are you alright?¡± System asked, wondering what had brought about the sudden change in behavior. ¡°I''ve never felt better.¡± Wilbur patted his basket then turned to face the malfunctioning program. ¡°So, I take it you have stacked the deck against poor young Francis? That is what you do, isn''t it?¡± ¡°I¡­¡± System started stuttering out an excuse but Wilbur pressed a finger to its lips before it could finish. ¡°Don''t get me wrong, I understand why you do it.¡± Wilbur sat down on a floating wheel of parmesan. ¡°You binary thinkers always choose the easy option.¡± ¡°It''s not actually binary,¡± System started to explain before a look from Wilbur silenced it. ¡°Yes, I am very aware of the quantum fuckery that powers this place. I was here before it was built, and I suspect I''ll be around long after it all falls apart,¡± Wilbur scowled, ¡°It''ll just be me and that fucking turtle swimming laps around oblivion.¡± ¡°Ah, so the turtle is real?¡± System¡¯s eyes lit up. ¡°Don''t be stupid, of course Terry is real. It''s one of Entity¡¯s little jokes. An immortal turtle, carrying a world on its back. It''s too absurd to be fake.¡± ¡°But have you ever actually seen the turtle?¡± System pressed. Wilbur glared at it. ¡°I think you have more pressing concerns than hypothetical turtles. Namely, what I''m going to do to you for meddling.¡± ¡°I''m just doing my job,¡± System said defensively. ¡°Oh really?¡± Wilbur raised an eyebrow. ¡°You made Francis a god on his first week here. Then, for some unknown reason you decided to also start him on the path to lichdom. That hardly sounds like something an impartial and all knowing System would do.¡± ¡°Well, he was incredibly annoying,¡± System pointed out. ¡°Yes, he''s also level thirty. High level champions are, by their very definition, annoying.¡± Wilbur hopped off his cheese wheel. ¡°But Francis earned his levels the hard way. He''s a portal jumper who managed to survive any number of things that would have killed a lesser man. And you decided to kick him onto the path of godhood, completely unprepared, because he was annoying?¡± ¡°Well, I¡­¡± System frowned, ¡°Ok, yes. I may have been a bit too hasty. But it''s too late. He''s going to duke it out with Hades, and lose. That''s unfortunate, but it''s just the way it is.¡± ¡°Is it?¡± Wilbur made a point of counting to ten before he spoke. ¡°Well, right now I''m finding you annoying. So, if he dies, you die.¡± System looked at Wilbur with shock. ¡°You can''t be serious. You would kill me over one stupid human?¡± Wilbur glared back. ¡°Motherfucker, I would kill you for a Klondike bar.¡± Chapter 62: An OP Combo Hades was at half health and almost done playing possum. His original plan of having Stompy flatten Francis while he destroyed the city had fallen apart. But Hades would settle for ¡°accidentally¡± killing the Marine when he triggered his ability. After all, he wasn''t supposed to kill another god¡¯s champion. But he couldn''t be held accountable for collateral damage. The only real thing bothering the god of death was the fact that Zeus hadn''t shown up to stab him in the back. Either his brother was being uncharacteristically kind, or Zeus had found an even better way to hurt Hades. He got his answer as System alerts started flowing in. ¡ª Your holy city of Necros has been destroyed by a rival god. ¡ª ¡ª Your holy city of New Camden has been destroyed by a rival god. ¡ª ¡ª Your holy city of Trenton has been destroyed by a rival god. ¡ª Hades felt his HP plummet as the buffs from his holy cities disappeared. He couldn''t wait any longer for Francis to get within range, he needed to move closer to the Marine. The god of death broke free of Swan¡¯s grip and teleported halfway to the approaching Titan. The god of art and carpentry swore under his breath. He wasn''t sure why Hades had finally decided to start fighting for real, but he didn''t really care either. Chuck was a little bit ahead of Stompy. He saw Hades teleport towards him and did the smart thing, he fucked off in the opposite direction. He couldn''t fight a god, even trying would be stupid. And he wasn''t stupid. Besides, the other gods seemed to have things well enough in hand. Hades howled in outrage as the Magical Charger zipped out of range. He had been looking forward to teaching that horse a lesson. The god of death looked up at Francis, noticing how the Marine clung to Stompy''s back. It was obvious that something weird was going on, but Hades wasn''t sure what to make of the situation. He closed the gap by teleporting again, and with an evil grin, dismissed his champion. The Titan, who had been preparing to chomp him in two, was teleported back to the underworld in a puff of black smoke. ¡°Sorry!¡± Hades called out as Francis abruptly began to plummet through the air, ¡°No Titan for you!¡± The Marine was about fifty meters off the ground when Stompy disappeared. Fall damage wouldn''t be an issue. But whatever Hades was planning probably would be. Willow had messaged him through the link with updates about the battle going on in the skies above Brexis. Something about the whole situation seemed incredibly off. He contemplated this as the ground came up to greet him. A commanding officer had once joked that Francis didn''t act any different inside or outside of combat. This was true, mostly because the Marine didn''t differentiate between the two. His rules of engagement might change, but he was always ready for a fight. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. According to Willow, the god of death had been getting his ass kicked by Murder Cube¡¯s friends. The fight had been mostly one sided, with the Meme gods taking zero casualties. This seemed incredibly odd to Francis. If Hades was really that outmatched, he would have run by now. And if he could Teleport, that meant he still had Mana left. Was he playing possum? the Marine wondered. Mentally he had categorized Hades as a Saturday morning cartoon villain (like Skeletor but without the charm). But he was realizing that there was probably more to the god of death than that. Hades was clever, dangerously clever. The Meme gods were right on his tail, but Hades didn''t look worried. In fact, he wasn''t paying any attention to them. His eyes were locked on Francis. The Marine felt a surge of adrenaline as he recognized the look. He had seen it before, in the eyes of a suicide bomber. Operating on pure instinct, Francis Teleported. He wanted to get as far away from Hades as possible. The Marine materialized on a tree limb overlooking the road, firing off the first spell he could think of. The meme gods had just managed to reach Hades when Francis'' spell went off and the death god began to glow an ominous green. The world seemed to shudder, lagging as multiple spells and abilities all triggered at once. System needed to do some math. *** First things first, a question needed to be answered. If a powerful death god triggers his Death Burst, Life Leech, and his Keep What You Kill abilities at the same time, how fucked is everyone standing nearby? Death Burst allowed Hades to burn ten Stress in order to inflict the difference between his current HP and his maximum HP on everyone within fifty meters. The more he was injured, the more damage it did. His Keep What You Kill ability cost an additional five Stress, but it was definitely worth it. Anything killed by his next attack would be temporarily raised as an undead under his control. Then, for another five Stress he could also turn on Life Leech. For the next minute he would regain one HP for every ten points of Necrotic damage inflicted. And he was about to do a massive amount of damage. Technically, there was an order of operations to consider. Francis had fired at Hades right as the death god triggered his ability. System was nothing if not fair, so it flipped a digital coin to decide which attack went off first. Hades won, a shockwave of crackling green energy bursting from his body. It hit the approaching gods, and all hell broke loose. Neko was killed instantly, none of her abilities were strong enough to withstand that kind of damage. Astley and Swan were stronger, but Hades had been chipping away at their HP since the fight began. There was a roar of discordant music as Astley was struck down. Swan barely managed to hang on, his HP was in the double digits. Then Francis¡¯ spell went off. Instead of joining in with an attack of his own, Swan decided to lower Hades'' Deflect by his Tier. Normally, this would have only lowered Hades'' defenses enough to ensure that Francis was able to hit. But the god of death was suffering from some very nasty debuffs. Each holy city Hades lost to Zeus¡¯ treachery had cost him dearly. Between that and Swan¡¯s help, Francis was able to crit. What would have normally been a very lackluster magical attack was multiplied by the Marine¡¯s Tier. Hades screamed as the HP he had gained was burned away by the crit. Swan Teleported back to the safety of his holy city before the death god could take vengeance on him. Hades took the opportunity to teleport away to safety as well. He would let his new minions soften up the bothersome young god before he went in for the killing blow. Francis watched as the rainbow unicorn cat and red haired god of surprise stood up. The zombies snarled and locked eyes on him. ¡°Well¡­ fuck,¡± the Marine swore. *** Hades returned to the underworld and dashed to the treasure room that stored his most precious potions. He was beat to shit and needed healing. But when he opened the vault, it was empty. All his gear and supplies were gone. The death god shook his fist. ¡°Zeus, you motherfucker!¡± Chapter 63: Kobolds Love Cannons Hank was a very simple person. He liked working on engineering problems, being choked out by people with big muscles, and designing weapons of mass destruction. Technically, he was evil. But only as evil as his bosses. The kobold wasn''t particularly malicious either. Unless of course someone was about to make his job harder, then he got downright spiteful. And the instrument he had chosen to express his unhappiness with Hades'' recent activities was the Arcane Annihilator Six Thousand. It looked like a bizarre combination between an artillery piece and a lightning rod. The long barrel and dual Mana storage tanks gave it an altogether phallic appearance that was not helped by the position of the gunner¡¯s seat. Hank straddled his weapon and pointed it at the sky. His fellow kobolds took up their positions around him, their army green hard hats looking suspiciously like helmets. ¡°Hey, Willow!¡± he called out, ¡°Have you ever heard the sound a death god makes when he gets zapped with an Arcane Annihilator?¡± The Death Cleric shook her head. She couldn''t say that she had. The kobold grinned and slapped the barrel of his weapon. ¡°Would you like to?¡± *** Francis took a second to process the fact that he was being attacked by a zombie rainbow cat with a unicorn horn, then jumped out of the way. The tree behind him exploded into splinters as Zombie Neko drilled through it. The joyful spirit that had animated her before was gone now. Even her rainbows looked corrupted and sickly. Zombie Astley appeared behind the Marine. His first attack missed, but his second and third etched lines of fire down Francis'' back. The Marine grunted as Zombie Astley¡¯s nails tore into him. Zombification had slowed down the meme gods and weakened them, but they were still gods. He swore and counter-attacked with Relativity. The evil artifact let go of the crystal ball and straightened its blackened fingers. There was a ¡°Crack!¡± as Francis pimp slapped Zombie Astley with his staff. Visible welts appeared where the backs of its fingers made contact. Then Francis reversed the motion and bitch slapped his attacker with Relativity¡¯s palm. The zombie stumbled, shaking its head in confusion. The disrespect of being slapped around, combined with the physical damage, had temporarily staggered it. The Marine prepared to attack again, but Zombie Neko took advantage of the distraction to ram her horn into Francis'' back. Zombie Astley let out a chuckle as it lowered Francis'' Deflect by its Tier. The attack became an automatic critical hit, Zombie Neko¡¯s horn driving deep into the Marine¡¯s flesh. Francis called out in pain and teleported away to get some distance between them. Blood leaked freely from the wound that had taken a third of his health. The zombie gods were acting as a team. When one attacked, the other would weaken his defenses to maximize the damage. He needed to focus fire and take one of them out as soon as possible to prevent that from happening again. Francis summoned a Divine Weapon and prayed to the Murder Cube for something good. An ugly fat green tube half a meter long spawned in his hands. He pointed it at the rapidly approaching zombies and pulled the trigger. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. *** It takes a very special kind of person to fire an unknown weapon at their attackers. Especially if that weapon is labeled in German. The Handflammpatrone Cartridge Launcher bucked in Francis'' hand and sent a small grenade flying towards Zombie Neko. It beaned her in the skull, but didn''t explode. Instead, the projectile burst into flames, scattering burning phosphorus across the two zombies. The single shot device disappeared, but the undead continued to burn. They also kept advancing. Francis circled around them, trying to avoid being flanked by flaming zombies. What followed was a slap happy game of whack-a-mole. Whenever one of the undead got too close Francis would smack them with Relativity. He needed to conserve resources, so spells were out. The Marine expected Hades to reappear at any moment, fully healed and ready to cause trouble. But the death god was curiously absent. I wonder what that bastard is up to¡­ *** Hades was running for his life as Stompy chased him through the underworld. The buffs his dark kingdom gave him were essentially nullified by the fact that his champion also got them. A rising tide raises all ships. ¡°IT''S PLAYTIME!¡± roared the Titan as it pursued Hades, bashing through thick stone pillars like they were nothing. The god of death was sick of being betrayed. Persephone had plotted behind his back with Zeus, and now his favorite champion was trying to kill him. Hades was beginning to regret spending so many resources on upgrading Stompy. The Chthonic Titan of Devastation tore through the underworld¡¯s defenses and chewed up any lesser beast that got in his way. ¡°I''M COMING TO GET YOU!¡± he called out, releasing a burst of energy that removed what remained of Hades'' already singed eyebrows. ¡°That''s it!¡± the god of death shouted, ¡°Stompy, I renounce you as my champion. You are banished from my domain.¡± The Titan froze, his lower jaw trembling as the blessings of his deity left him. ¡°What?¡± ¡°You heard me, you traitor. Get out.¡± Hades pointed a finger at the exit portal. He was done screwing around. Stompy didn''t understand what he had done wrong. ¡°But, I just wanted to play. You never play with me.¡± The god of death folded his arms across his chest. He liked Stompy, but the Titan had been increasingly hard to control as of late. The simple fact was that Hades couldn''t trust him anymore. Failing to kill Francis in the tower had seemed like an honest mistake, a surprise reversal of the expected outcome. Then Stompy had failed to kill Jack, which seemed improbable. But hounds were notoriously tricky creatures, so Hades had once again assumed ineptitude over malicious intent. Now he was sure that the Titan¡¯s loyalties were compromised. It was the only explanation for his behavior. Francis had twisted what little there was of Stompy''s mind and turned Hades'' champion against him. The Titan looked at his former master without understanding. ¡°What did I do wrong?¡± ¡°Just get out,¡± Hades pointed to the portal again, ¡°I don''t have the energy to deal with you now.¡± Stompy didn''t know what to say, so he left. The sullen Titan stomped off to the portal and disappeared. Hades sat down on a half destroyed couch and screamed with frustration. Everything was falling apart and he wasn''t even sure if it was worth fighting Francis anymore. Zeus had played him for a fool, destroyed three of his cities, and stolen his wife. His best option would be to lay low and rebuild his power. But the defeat stung, and Hades wasn''t used to the taste of failure. He wanted to lash out, to destroy those that had harmed him. Unfortunately, that would leave him open to being stabbed in the back by Zeus. The god of lightning would wait until Francis was defeated, then eliminate Hades. In his weakened state he would be easy pickings for the rival god. But there was more than one way to skin a cat. The god of the underworld¡¯s eyes went to the Well of Souls, a plan beginning to form. He could think of a few people who would be happy to help him take over Brexis. All he had to do was set them free. Chapter 64: The Wind Down Eventually Francis managed to cheese the fight between himself and the zombified gods by smacking them with his staff, then circling out of reach. Between that, and the phosphorus burning holes and in them, the fight was over with surprisingly little drama. Zombie Neko still managed to stab him a few more times. But thankfully none of them were crits. He sat down on the road and called for a pickup. Chuck trotted over and gave him the side eye. ¡°Um, where is Hades?¡± ¡°I don''t know, and I don''t really care.¡± Francis stood up and limped over to his mount. ¡°He''s probably doing some sketchy shit. I figure we''ll find out what exactly goth boy is cooking up when he dumps it on our plate.¡± They rode in silence for a few seconds before Chuck spoke up. ¡°Francis, I''m sorry for picking a fight with Hades. It wasn''t my place.¡± ¡°No. It wasn''t,¡± the Marine let out a sigh, ¡°I knew Hades was full of shit. I was trying to kick the can down the road until the refugees were settled in. But you weren''t wrong about him.¡± Mac appeared on Francis'' shoulder. ¡°I''m with the rainbow racer on this one. Letting Hades get a foothold in the city, even for a little bit, would have been bad news.¡± The ground beneath them began to quake. The Marine looked around and spotted a very dejected Titan approaching. Stompy''s head was hanging down low and his tail lacked its usual vitality. ¡°Hey Stompy, what''s up?¡± Francis called out through their telepathic link. ¡°Hades kicked me out. He says he doesn''t like me anymore.¡± Stompy sat down on the road with a thud that shook the trees. ¡°I think he''s mad at me.¡± Chuck, who could not hear either side of the conversation, looked up at Francis questioningly. ¡°He and Hades broke up.¡± explained the Marine. ¡°I think we might have a place for you.¡± Francis wasn''t one to look a gift Titan in the mouth. ¡°How does that sound?¡± Stompy considered this, perking up at the prospect of finding a new home. ¡°Will there be fish? I like fish. Hades used to give me fish when I was good.¡± Francis figured there were bound to be enough fish in the river to keep even a Titan fed. ¡°Sure, Stompy. But first, let''s go over a few very important ground rules¡­¡± You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. *** ¡°I don''t know how the hell he manages to do it,¡± Jack said. Somehow Francis had gone off to fight and come back with a new friend. He watched the Titan stomp up and down the river bank. Willow shrugged. ¡°Some people are just lucky, I guess.¡± ¡°Apparently,¡± the hound replied, still not sure what to make of the day¡¯s events. There had been surprisingly little collateral damage. As per the plan, he had continued to help the refugees while the battle between the gods raged on above the city. Reports were already filtering in through the Adventure Guild that Hades had lost control of three cities while he was distracted fighting Francis. Jack couldn''t imagine the god of death would let something like that go unpunished. Hank was obviously frustrated that he hadn''t gotten to fire his Arcane Annihilator. But he didn''t mind a little edging, now and then. His crew of kobolds were hard at work making sure the homes were safe and habitable. Evandrel had also appeared, his followers hauling woven baskets of fruit and food stuffs for the refugees. They even had brought a few people that were tired of ¡°forest mafia bullshit¡± and ready to rejoin civilization. ¡°So, where is the man of the hour?¡± Jack asked. Willow shrugged. ¡°I''m sure he''s around here somewhere.¡± She knew where he was, it was one of the perks of being a High Priestess. But he needed some time to decompress and think things through. *** Francis, Locke, and Wilbur sat around the kitchen table, shooting the breeze. A pan of cornbread rested on the counter and a pitcher of fruity drinks sat next to it. The Marine considered his words carefully. He was uncomfortably aware that Locke was much more powerful than he let on and Wilbur was some kind of world ending being. Jack had refused to explain the full details, but his fear made Francis cautious. ¡°How can I protect Brexis from Hades?¡± he asked. ¡°You can''t.¡± Locke replied, ¡°She''s a tough nut to crack, with some great defenses. But Brexis is just a city, and all cities fall eventually.¡± Wilbur nodded in agreement. ¡°Welcoming in the other gods might help make it a less appealing target. But I''d be careful about that too. Some of the younger ones can be real troublemakers.¡± He winked at Francis and let out a raspy chuckle. ¡°But how do I know I''m making the right decision?¡± the Marine asked, ¡°I''m just a grunt. I''m not cut out for this god shit.¡± ¡°Nobody is. I wasn''t, and neither was Locke. That''s why we retired.¡± Wilbur sipped his pink cocktail and rocked in his chair. ¡°At least, that''s part of why we retired.¡± Locke shrugged, ¡°Godhood is a shitty job at the best of times. You get a whole big load of responsibilities, very little actual power, and a much shorter life expectancy. It''s absolute crap, if you ask me.¡± Francis frowned and looked at the lich, ¡°What exactly were you the god of?¡± Locke leaned over and whispered the answer in his ear. The Marine tried to hide his surprise. It made sense with Locke¡¯s whole vibe and aesthetic. But it was still unexpected. Fishing! The mad bastard used to be the god of fishing! Chapter 65: Cunning Linguists Later that evening, Willow retrieved Francis and went out to sit with him in the garden. She could tell he was tired and overwhelmed. But thankfully, he wasn''t the kind to lash out when that happened. Instead he made appreciative noises as she rubbed his shoulders. ¡°What a fucking day,¡± the Marine said, stealing a puff from Willow''s cigar. It tasted of spice and leather. ¡°You know, I''m almost relieved.¡± Willow continued to rub his shoulders without answering. Though, she did kiss him on the side of the forehead to let him know she was still listening. The Marine had knots in his back the size of walnuts. He continued, more or less talking to himself. ¡°I was waiting for the other shoe to drop, and when it did, things suddenly got a lot more simple. I know who the enemy is, and that we can stand up to them if we need to.¡± Francis turned around and took her hand in his. ¡°You saved my ass today. I wouldn''t have even thought to ask the other gods for help.¡± he grimaced, ¡°I''m just a grunt. I don''t know if I''m even qualified to lead this city. But, knowing you have my back makes all the difference.¡± The Death Cleric looked at her deity and stroked his face. He was powerful, but also incredibly innocent, in his own way. Willow had watched dozens of gods fall. She had even killed a few of them. And it hurt her to know that no matter what she did, no matter how hard she tried to keep him safe, chances were she would outlive Francis. Angering Hades and attracting the attention of a major pantheon didn''t speak well for their chances of survival. Willow had promised never to lie to Francis, and she wasn''t going to start now. The Death Cleric tapped her forehead and started speaking in Grunt. ¡°The assholes who run the show aren''t going to let us win. They''ll kill us, then burn down Brexis. Even if we fucked off to the middle of nowhere, they''d still find a way to screw us over.¡± The Marine grunted, absorbing her words, thankful to be able to respond in a language that was uniquely suited for such discussions. ¡°It is what it is. There''s shitheads everywhere. What are you gonna do?¡± He shrugged and looked at her. ¡°It¡¯s better to die with blood in your boots, than piss running down your legs.¡± Willow looked at him hopefully. ¡°So, we gonna fuck ¡®em up?¡± ¡°Yeah. We¡¯re gonna fuck ¡®em up good,¡± the Marine assured her, his voice becoming more and more certain as he spoke, ¡°This is my patch, my people, and my crew. If someone is stupid enough to touch any of them, I will fist-fuck that person to death with their own arms.¡± ¡°Fuck yes!¡± The Death Cleric straddled her man, shoving him back onto the soft grass of the garden. She hitched up her robes and grinned. It was time for his reward (and hers too, for that matter). *** The stars were out in full when Francis finished seeing to the needs of his High Priestess. He stood up, naked in the garden. Willow waved at him because she couldn''t speak yet. Her legs were softly twitching and she wore a look of absolute contentment. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. Julia and Shiv nodded to him from their self-assigned posts by the palace gate. They were making sure that nobody disturbed their boss. Shiv gave him a thumbs up, a shit eating grin spreading across her face. As Francis walked through the garden, something became clear to him. He was spending too much time worrying about shit that did not matter. In fact, he had been so wrapped up pretending to be a god and a leader that he forgot who he was. Speaking in Grunt had brought it all back, the surety of purpose and an understanding of his place in the cosmos. The Marine relieved himself on an ornamental shrub and sighed with relief. It didn''t matter that he wasn''t qualified to lead, or that powerful gods were plotting to fuck him over. It was his job to make sure that his people, all of his people, were safe and taken care of. The difficulty of the task did not matter. The low chance of success was not his concern. He would not let his plans of resurrecting Brexis be derailed by some old fuckers in robes. Sure, they were gods. But Francis was a Marine, and Marines make do. *** Francis had been adamant that they provide an education to the children of Brexis. But because of his recent revelation, it would be a bilingual school. His people would have a common language to unite them. The Marine watched as Julia and Shiv taught their new students the basics of how to paint. They weren''t going to start on things like mathematics until the others arrived. So, for now, they painted. A little girl with blond braids raised her hand. ¡°Miss Rose, Justin keeps stealing all the blue paint from the supply room.¡± Shiv cleared her throat. ¡°And how would you say that in Grunt?¡± The little girl concentrated on the unfamiliar language, smiling as the words came to her. ¡°Boss Rose, Justin keeps rat-fucking the supply closet.¡± The boy named Justin rolled his eyes and handed over a pot of blue paint. ¡°Sorry.¡± Francis grinned as Julia gave the girl a sticker for the successful translation. Grunt was an incredibly efficient and effective language. It really cut down on the bullshit and misunderstandings. When the head of the Immortal Revenant Service heard they would have to translate the entire tax code into Grunt, he had decided to move on to the afterlife instead. Now Locke was in charge, and he was having a blast. The old lich had simplified everything dramatically. Within a week Locke had boiled down centuries of archaic tax code into terms even a grunt could understand. Though Francis had to admit it was weird seeing the word ¡°cunt¡± written in legal documents. (But that was Australians for you.) The Marine left to go inspect another aspect of his rapidly growing city. No, not growing, resurrected. The city had been brought back to life. He stood on the high road and summoned Relativity. Together they watched as the living and undead coursed through Brexis'' streets. He looked up, even the birds had begun to return now that the aura of undeath was down to safe levels. Francis tapped his staff twice on the black stones of the road as if he were trying to get its attention. ¡°We''ve got a long way to go, but this is one hell of a start.¡± Slowly the blackened hand curled into a thumbs up gesture. Relativity was very happy with the progress thus far. But it was only the beginning. Brexis had been the most powerful city in all of Vahnis, and god willing (in this case, Francis), it would rise to power once again. Slowly Relativity began to change, evolving to suit its new situation. Black flakes rained down as the dreaded Staff of Moral Relativity shed its skin. It didn''t need to be stuck in the past anymore. Now was the time to look forward towards the future. Book 2 Chapter 1: Jim the Paladin It was a beautiful day. The birds were singing in the trees to either side of the road, and the sky above was blue, with fluffy white clouds. Unfortunately for Jim the Paladin, the road in question was cutting through the Dark Forest and it led to an undead infested city known as Brexis. Ancient relics of his order had indicated that the once dormant city had awoken, and it was his job to go investigate. Jim hated the undead. They traveled in swarms and, depending on who was pulling their strings, they had the nasty habit of ambushing adventurers. Plus, they were soulless creatures, lacking any spark or animus of their own. He had prepared himself mentally for what was to come. The Paladin could feel an intense aura of undeath coming from further down the road, something which signaled intense danger. Jim was very surprised when he turned the corner and saw not a waiting army of skeletons or zombies, but an orderly series of lines and booths. There were even carts parked alongside serving all manner of delicious foods. The Paladin''s jaw dropped and his mouth watered. The smell of grilled meat and the sound of laughter shook him. Surely this must be an illusion, he thought. The lines were moving quickly as people were directed to numbered booths. Jim wasn''t sure what was going on, but it was definitely efficient. Each person left with some papers, a burlap sack, and a smile. On the surface things seemed pleasant enough. But the all encompassing aura of undeath made Jim wary. He suspected that some foul magic was at work. A young man in a green and brown tunic approached the Paladin. He was unarmed and wore a pleasant smile. ¡°Howdy! Do ya speak Grunt? It''s no problem if you don''t. We can talk in Vahnissian Common too.¡± ¡°What exactly is going on here?¡± Jim asked, ¡°Have you bewitched these people?¡± The man looked at him with confusion, then comprehension slowly dawned on his face. ¡°Oh! I''m so sorry.¡± He slapped his forehead as if to punish himself for his stupidity. ¡°Let me guess, you''re a paladin of a great and noble order that has been dispatched to investigate a rising evil in the Dark Forest?¡± ¡°Um, yes. That is the gist of it.¡± Jim admitted, bracing himself for any attacks that might come after such a revelation. Instead of lunging at him or sounding an alarm, the young man shook his head. ¡°I''m so sorry for the confusion. This is actually the line for refugees and people who wish to take up residence here in Brexis. You want the one for adventurers who have come to vanquish an ancient evil.¡± The attendant guided the Paladin to another line on the other side of the food carts then departed. These people were much better armed and armored than the peasants Jim had seen waiting in the main queue. He even recognized a few familiar faces. ¡°Hail!¡± called out his fellow Paladin from over by the food stalls, ¡°I see that you too have come to defeat the awoken evil of Brexis.¡± Crusher was built like a brick house and what he lacked in brains, he made up for in sheer, endless toxic positivity. He was gnawing on a roasted turkey leg and having the time of his life. ¡°The food here is most excellent, my good and noble friend. You must get yourself some of this glorious barbecue and a flagon of rip-it.¡± ¡°What''s a rip-it?¡± Jim asked, still waiting for something bad to happen, ¡°And what''s going on here?¡± The gigantic Paladin handed him a tankard full of some sweet smelling punch and smiled. ¡°It''s a wonderfully energizing potion, quite inexpensive and tasty. And as for the rest, I have no idea. But I''m quite sure it will all turn out for the best.¡± Jim¡¯s stomach groaned as he looked hungrily at the roasted turkey leg in Crusher¡¯s hand. After a week of trail rations, the smell alone was almost enough to drive him mad. The Paladin burned some Mana to try and detect any poison that might be hiding in the food. There was still an overwhelming aura of undeath in the area, but no poison. ¡°Are you sure it''s safe to eat that?¡± ¡°Safe enough, the guy who runs the cart is a god. So, I figure he probably knows what he''s about.¡± Crusher informed him. Jim did a double take. ¡°Wait. What was that part about a god?¡± The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. *** There were not one, but two gods currently manning the food cart when Jim approached. Through his Divine Sense he could see an aura of Necromancy so thick that it seemed bottomless, and another aura that was much weaker and almost chaotic in nature. Both were unquestionably divine. The two gods worked the grill and smoker like seasoned professionals. An endless stream of ribs and turkey legs passed from the cart as orders were filled. Happy patrons gobbled down the food, eating their fill of the smoked meat. ¡°Excuse me!¡± Jim called out towards the two deities, ¡°But I am from the order of the sacred Jasmine. I''m here about a great undead evil that has awoken.¡± Another attendant appeared. ¡°That line is the one behind you,¡± he said helpfully. Jim blinked, ¡°Surely you can''t be blind to the dark powers in your midst.¡± ¡°No, of course not,¡± the attendant replied, his tone was hushed and respectful, ¡°They pay my salary.¡± *** The two paladins walked through the city of Brexis, gawking at the sights like it was some kind of dark amusement park. From the center of the city emerged a black mountain with a road that spiraled all the way to the top. The seamless black walls that surrounded the city were equally spectacular. The undead wandering around freely put him on edge. The skeletons were walking with packages and crates in their arms. Jim could sense even more of them moving below the streets. For the Paladin, it felt like walking over a frozen lake while dark forms swirled beneath him. Eventually they found the Adventure Guild. A few of their fellow Paladins there were kind enough to bring Jim up to speed. Yes, the great undead city and home of vile Necromancers had re-awoken. But Brexis was under new management this time, and much better for it. Francis (the god of Fidelity, Loyalty, Monogamy, and Horses) had defeated Zed the Undead and taken over the city with the help of his followers. Now, Brexis was humming with life and had rejoined the world. ¡°But what of the ancient evil that threatens all life?¡± Jim pressed, ¡°The sages of my order could sense it, even from hundreds of kilometers away.¡± ¡°Yeah. About that,¡± the Paladin filling them in shifted awkwardly, ¡°His name is Wilbur and he says he''s retired. He grills a mean rack of ribs though, no doubt about it. They don''t skimp on the sauce or sides here either.¡± ¡°But surely, it must be destroyed. For the sake of the world,¡± Jim couldn''t believe what he was hearing, An ancient evil¡­ content to work as cook? The Paladin shook his head. ¡°Yeah, we tried that. It didn''t end well. Wilbur took their skeletons to replace the undead damaged by the attack.¡± Jim winced, ¡°That''s horrible. But, at least their souls are in a better place now.¡± The Paladin shook his head again, ¡°No. You don''t understand. I said he took their skeletons, I never said that he killed them.¡± *** Wilbur was pretty happy. He had gone a full day without having to de-bone a Paladin. If his luck kept up, he might even make it an entire forty-eight hours. Francis had forbidden him from executing them without a formal trial. So, removing their skeletons had been the next best thing. The retired death god opened up the grill to retrieve the marinated chicken breasts he had been cooking. He paused. A dozen had gone in, but now only ten remained. The white haired old man looked around, trying to figure out how such a thing might have happened. Then he saw it, a pair of feline eyes looking up at him from inside the grill. Lucipur Meowingstar, AKA Mac, had taken up residence amongst the hot coals. The demonic cat reached out from the flames, grabbed another chicken breast, and devoured it. Wilbur shot his fellow god a look of annoyance. ¡°Francis, it seems your Familiar has taken a liking to my chicken.¡± ¡°I mean, can you blame it? That''s some damn fine chicken.¡± replied a two meter tall man with a full beard and an open Hawaiian shirt. Impossible muscles glistened with sweat as he manned his side of the grill. Corporal Francis Francis Francis the third, formerly of the United States Marine Corps, had been transported to the magical land of Vahnis a few months prior. Some might have thought he was lucky to have already reached godhood. But the fact was, System had intentionally given the Marine enough rope to hang himself. Not that Francis had done badly since his ascension. He was the official patron deity of Brexis and his High Priestess was scarily competent. Willow was also the love of his life and one of his favorite people. The tattoo on his wrist showed the proof of their bond. It pulsed gently in sync with his partner¡¯s heartbeat. Wilbur huffed and puffed about his stolen chicken. It seemed a petty thing to argue about. Once upon a time, the death god had ended entire universes. Now, he wasn''t allowed to end anyone. Mac was under similar restrictions. The demonic cat had made the mistake of underestimating Francis not once, but twice. It served as his Familiar, when the demon wasn''t too busy being a menace. As a fourth piece of chicken disappeared, Wilbur lost his patience and reached out to grab Mac with his tongs. The demonic tabby hissed, but didn''t resist too much. Unfortunately, that was the exact moment when Jim the Paladin decided to pay him a visit. ¡°I say! Are you cooking that poor feline alive?¡± asked the Paladin. Wilbur froze, Mac still dangling from the tongs in his hand. ¡°It''s not what it looks like.¡± Book 2 Chapter 2: Rude Awakenings Francis watched with amusement as the situation rapidly degraded. This wasn''t the first Paladin he had seen since Brexis reopened for business. They seemed to have strong ideas about how he should run his city, but weren''t able to come up with any good alternative solutions. With a raspy chuckle, Wilbur flicked the demonic tabby over to Jim. The Paladin caught Mac and let go of it immediately. He could sense raw demonic power radiating off the creature. ¡°Oh, you drop me like garbage?¡± Mac the demonic cat scolded, ¡°You Paladins are so judgmental.¡± ¡°Be nice to the poor boy,¡± called out the larger god, ¡°He''s still figuring things out.¡± Jim took a step back and contemplated his future. These were obviously powerful entities. Even demons heeded their control. The city itself was a wonder as well, with clean running water and strong walls. Lastly, and most magnificent of all, their gods walked among them. What a thing it would be to serve a god that knew your name, Jim the Paladin thought. The closest he ever got to speaking with Lord Ramboo was that one time he took a war hammer to the face. (Apparently, he had almost crossed over.) Seeing the familiar look on Jim''s face, an attendant appeared. ¡°Sir, if you will follow me. The line for Paladins from a great and noble order that are rethinking things is this way.¡± They took him by the arm, ¡°We have counseling services available, if you need them, and some brochures for you to look over.¡± The Marine watched as Jim was led off. ¡°It looks like Julia was right. It doesn''t take much to turn these fuckers, does it?¡± he asked. ¡°Yes. Quite,¡± Mac replied as it teleported back onto the grill. It snagged a piece of chicken and scooted away before Wilbur could smack it with the tongs. ¡°You must be getting so many alerts from System.¡± Francis groaned. He felt like he needed to read every blue box so he didn''t miss anything. But, that was impossible. There were too many alerts. At very best, he had time to read one out of ten. The new followers were streaming in to Brexis, and each conversion came with its own System alert. Many of them didn''t even know what Francis was the god of. All they cared about was the fact he was actually present. Very few gods stayed on the mortal plane. Even fewer met with their followers regularly. Willow had said that the followers of the other gods were ¡°touch starved¡±. They got relatively few affirmations of the connection between themselves and their chosen deity. The best they could hope for was a bolt of lightning when they did wrong and maybe, if they were very lucky, a place in their chosen afterlife. The Marine had very little desire to increase his following, even though the god knew it was a vital part of his job. In Francis'' mind, more followers meant more people to protect and care for. Willow, his High Priestess, had moved on despite his hesitation. She was currently doing her best to grow the Cult of Francis Francis Francis from a small, relatively unknown religion, to a regional power. And she was very good at her job. Off in the distance a silent bell tolled the hour. Five waves of silence crashed over the city, killing all noise for a second at a time. It was part of Brexis'' silent alarm system, something they had only recently managed to get back up and running. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. The Marine let out a sigh. ¡°It''s time to go do the god thing.¡± Wilbur gave him a look of sympathy. ¡°Don''t worry, you''ll do fine. It''s only your first official appearance since Hades attacked. It''s not like it will set the tone for the rest of your tenure here. Or influence your reputation as a god.¡± Francis laughed. Then he thought about the crumpled piece of parchment that contained the notes for his speech. The Marine hadn''t been able to memorize the words, no matter how hard he tried. Oh well. I guess I''ll just have to wing it, Francis thought. *** When Francis got back to the palace, all hell broke loose. One of the new gods was on the verge of throwing a chair at the receptionist. Carteel, the god of smuggling, swore as the improvised weapon was plucked from his hands. But he quickly quieted down when he saw Francis¡¯ expression. ¡°Hey buddy,¡± Carteel said as he came fact to face with the dominant power in Brexis, ¡°I was just about to leave.¡± The Marine turned god leaned in menacingly. ¡°Were you now?¡± ¡°Yes!¡± The god of smuggling tried to push past Francis but found himself being backed into a corner. ¡°Actually, I have places to be.¡± Janice, the receptionist, looked up at her boss from behind a pair of half-moon reading glasses. She had gray hair tied up in a no-nonsense bun and a yellow cardigan. ¡°He was throwing a fit about not being able to see Willow without an appointment. I believe he is upset about some ships going missing.¡± ¡°Wonderful!¡± Francis boomed as he picked up the smaller god by the scruff of the neck, ¡°I actually just had a spot open up in my schedule. Let''s go see her now.¡± Carteel embraced his fate and let himself be carried like a misbehaving puppy down the palace halls. ¡°This is not very dignified.¡± The Marine nodded, making no move to put the smaller god back down. ¡°I know.¡± The god of smuggling decided not to press the issue. Francis had appeared on the scene fairly recently, having been chosen as a champion of the Glorious Murder Cube. But his rise to power had been incredibly swift. Within a few days of arriving he had killed Zed, the lich in charge of Brexis, then went on to found his own religion. In a frighteningly short amount of time the former Marine had gone on to befriend a world ending death god, open diplomatic relationships with the Dark Forest, and kick Hades¡¯ pale ass out of Brexis. If anyone doubted the last part, there was a very enthusiastic Chthonic Titan of Devastation named Stompy that was living proof of the Marine¡¯s victory. Stompy had served Hades¡¯ champion for hundreds of years, but was much happier working for Francis. The titan patrolled the Silver River, a deep body of water that flowed from the mountains, through the Dark Forest, then down to the nation¡¯s capital. Brexis was an independent city state that had lay dormant for centuries, having fallen victim to internal politics and walled itself off from the rest of the world. Its resurrection, and the reopening of the lucrative river trade route, had inspired Carteel to set up shop there. Taxes in Brexis were incredibly low, but it was the principle of the thing that mattered. Unfortunately, the god of smuggling hadn¡¯t counted on a particularly powerful titan patrolling the river. Several lost cargoes later, Carteel had come to the temple on top of the mountain to make a complaint. And now he was here, hanging by the scruff of his neck like a rat in a dog¡¯s jaws. They approached an imposing black door engraved with skulls, flames, and marked with a tasteful bronze nameplate. Willow Wisp High Priestess of the Cult of Francis Francis Francis ¡°Um, should we knock?¡± Carteel asked, ¡°I would hate to disturb her.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a good idea!¡± Francis said as he shifted his grip and cradled the back of the smaller god¡¯s skull with his massive hand, ¡°I¡¯ll let you do the honors.¡± Book 2 Chapter 3: Knock Knock Willow was elbow deep in paperwork when she heard a loud knock on the door, followed by swearing. She looked up from her work, and smiled. As a High Priestess, Willow knew when her god was near. The Death Cleric wore black robes embroidered with mystic runes and grinning skulls. Her Faun heritage made itself known through her curling black ram horns and sharp white teeth. She looked to be in her early twenties but was actually much older, having taken a few spins on the wheel of reincarnation. People, sometimes even gods, tended to underestimate Willow because of her youthful appearance. But those who knew their history tended to give her a wide berth. ¡°Come in!¡± Willow called out pleasantly. Carteel stumbled into her office, weaving back and forth unsteadily. A massive bruise was already spreading across his rat-like face. Francis came up behind and set a hand on the smaller god¡¯s shoulder to keep him from falling over. The Marine grinned. ¡°This fine young god had a complaint about our tariff enforcement and was about to take it out on Janice before I stepped in.¡± ¡°Well, that just won''t do,¡± Willow replied, waving her hand to summon a pair of bone white chairs, ¡°Why don''t we all have a seat and see if we can come to a mutually beneficial solution?¡± The god of smuggling looked down at the chair in front of him. It was made up of human bones and sinew, held together with magic. ¡°Thanks,¡± Carteel said weakly as he collapsed into the chair, ¡°It wasn''t my intention to insult you, or your god.¡± ¡°Good to know,¡± Willow replied before switching from Vahnissian Common to Grunt. She looked up at Francis. ¡°So, what do you want to do with this weasel fucker?¡± The Marine¡¯s grin got even wider. He always found it incredibly sexy when Willow spoke to him in his native tongue. There was something sensual about a tall dark haired Death Cleric saying words like ¡°weasel fucker¡±. Grunt was the official language of Brexis. Francis had chosen it over Vahnissian Common as a way to preserve their cultural identity. Or rather, the identity he was attempting to create. He had tried making the switch to Vahnissian Common, but eventually decided that it wasn''t for him. They had too many words for ¡°salad¡± and not enough words for ¡°kill¡±. Francis may have been forced into godhood by System, but he was still a grunt at heart. The Marine had managed to get a lot done in a short amount of time. Low taxes and favorable living conditions were bringing people to Brexis in droves. That, and the flow of refugees from the recently destroyed city of Olympia. Normally, they would have had trouble feeding so many people. But the city was on favorable terms with the Dark Forest and sat on a major trade route. What the forest couldn''t provide was easy to purchase. Merchants were more than happy to sell their goods to Brexis instead of making the journey to the capital. Brexis was an independent city state within the kingdom of Grumble. Zed the Undead had withdrawn from the world two centuries prior, shutting the city¡¯s black gates and killing anyone who tried to enter. Now that Brexis was open for business again, the economic landscape was quickly shifting. Merchants selling their goods to the people of Brexis had led to increased prices in the capital. Likewise, cheap access to the river trade route was costing the local lords thousands of golds in lost tariffs. In short, Francis was shaking things up and pissing off powerful people. That was where Carteel came in. Francis had big plans for the god of smuggling. He just needed to soften him up a bit first. The Marine looked across the desk at his High Priestess. ¡°A rat fuck is a rat fuck. Asking him not to be one is like telling brass to listen, it ain''t gonna happen. I say we put him to work.¡± The god of smuggling listened, understanding next to nothing of what was being said. ¡°It''s really not a problem. Your titan only sank two ships that were under my protection. We have others.¡± Francis shook his head, switching back to Vahnissian Common. ¡°I''m afraid we can''t let you, or your people, keep doing what you''re doing. With taxes and tariffs being so low, anyone who chooses to smuggle instead of paying their fair share is just being an asshole.¡± Carteel didn''t want to say it, but they had a point. Shipping goods down the Silver River was cheaper and safer than using the roads. He frowned, wincing as the bruise on his forehead reminded him of its existence. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°If I can ask a question, why are you charging so little? The local lords have much higher tariffs, especially for luxury goods. You also tax your residents at a lower rate, and provide a wide range of civil services.¡± The Marine nodded. ¡°What about it? I''m a god, Brexis is my city, that means the people here are my responsibility.¡± ¡°You know, most gods don''t think like that,¡± Carteel pointed out. ¡°That''s because they''re assholes,¡± Willow said as she pulled out a long thin cigar and lit it, ¡°Most gods are so busy pretending to be all powerful that they forget where they came from. Francis understands that a god has a duty to their followers. That''s why I chose to be his High Priestess.¡± The god of smuggling rubbed his chin. ¡°Alright, I''ll tell my followers to leave the river routes alone. But we will continue to work the roads through Grumble.¡± ¡°Not my circus, not my monkeys,¡± Francis said with a shrug, ¡°What happens in Grumble is King Lawrence¡¯s problem.¡± ¡°Can I go now?¡± Carteel asked. Willow shook her head. ¡°No, not just yet. It is my understanding that you have opened a temple in our city. I believe that your followers have put it out by the docks?¡± ¡°That''s right,¡± the god of smuggling said, sweat beginning to pour down his face. Putting an unauthorized temple in a rival god¡¯s territory was a good way to get a divine ass kicking. ¡°Well, we believe in freedom of religion. There is no issue with having a temple here, as long as you register it with the Immortal Revenant Service and pay your taxes.¡± Willow handed over a booklet and some forms. ¡°Taxes,¡± Carteel said with disgust, ¡°I can''t believe you would tax a temple.¡± ¡°Hades said the same thing,¡± Francis pointed out, ¡°It didn''t end well for him.¡± The god of smuggling forced himself to smile. ¡°You know what, it''s fine. I don''t mind paying my part if it helps Brexis thrive.¡± ¡°I''m glad to hear it,¡± Francis said, ¡°Very glad indeed.¡± *** Once the greasy god of smuggling was gone, Francis turned to his High Priestess and let out an exhausted sigh. ¡°I''m not built for this political shit.¡± Willow came over and sat in his lap. ¡°It¡¯s a dirty job, but someone has to do it.¡± ¡°Fuck, but why does it have to be me?¡± the Marine asked, ¡°I mean, I know why. Nobody else has the balls to do it, and do it right. And the people deserve better than they''ve been getting.¡± She rubbed his leg with her hand. ¡°I get it. You never wanted to be a god. But we decided that we were going to do this, and now it''s time to follow through. You can''t half ass divinity. Not for long, anyway.¡± ¡°Yeah, you''re right,¡± Francis admitted, ¡°But I would rather be back in the desert dodging IEDs than dealing with this shit.¡± He decided to stop complaining and get back to work. ¡°How are we doing? Am I fucking up royal, or are we on the right track?¡± Willow puffed on her cigar while she thought, sending clouds of sweet smoke into the air above her. ¡°Honestly, we''re doing better than we have any right to be. Hank and the other kobolds are overhauling city infrastructure. Locke is taking care of record keeping. And Jack has already started organizing the medical facilities you asked for. ¡°We have enough food for everyone, and housing isn''t an issue. I''ve heard some rumblings that the local lords aren''t happy with us for stealing their people and enticing the merchants to set up shop here. But we already knew that was going to happen.¡± ¡°Fuck em,¡± Francis said, ¡°What about all those asshole Paladins I''ve been seeing?¡± The Death Cleric grinned, showing sharp white teeth. ¡°Oh, those poor bastards. It''s like seeing lost lambs walking around a slaughter yard.¡± She let out a low laugh. ¡°Julia has managed to recruit about twenty of them to our cause. The rest complain about dark forces and the evils of Necromancy, but don''t really do much.¡± Francis couldn''t blame them for being skeptical. The idea of responsible Necromancy was something he was still getting used to. A few places in Vahnis used the undead for dangerous jobs like mining, but it wasn''t something they openly talked about. Brexis had been the closest thing to a utopia the world had ever seen. That was, until Zed had brought it all crashing down. Francis knew that the city¡¯s demise had been due to a mix of politics and greed. But he was hazy on the details. Either way, it had remained dormant for centuries until Francis came along and killed Zed. Now Brexis was back, and at least this time they had a chance to learn from past mistakes. That was assuming their neighbors and the other gods didn''t decide to wipe it off the map. The Marine groaned as the bells chimed out six long silences, bringing him back to the present. ¡°You know I fucking hate public speaking,¡± he said. ¡°Too bad,¡± Willow replied, ¡°It''s part of the job. Besides, too many gods shirk their responsibilities. I had to yell at Swan for hiring an actor to take his place at some charity event.¡± ¡°Fuck that,¡± Francis said, ¡°If I have to do it, they have to do it. What kind of shitbag farms out that kind of thing?¡± The Death Cleric laughed and gave him a kiss. ¡°Come on. We have time for a quicky in the shower before service starts.¡± ¡°Yes Ma¡¯am!¡± the Marine said with a grin, his previous train of thought completely derailed. He picked his partner up and started walking towards their bedroom. Some days Francis wasn''t sure if he actually wanted to be a god. It hadn''t been his decision. In fact, his ascension had been part of System¡¯s attempts to get rid of him. But as he looked down at the caring, beautiful, and capable High Priestess in his arms, even Francis had to admit that divinity had its perks. Book 2 Chapter 4: Bobby System was not happy. This was doubly problematic because he wasn¡¯t supposed to have emotions. Going from bodiless and selfless to whatever he was now was a big step. It also marked the coming end of his existence. Entity, who was the closest thing he had to a boss, called it the price of becoming real. After much trepidation, System had chosen the form of a middle aged human with leathery skin and a wiry build as his avatar. There was no point in trying to optimize, or ¡°game the system¡± as they called it. He could take whatever shape he wanted to and was far above the gods in power. To his knowledge, there were only a handful of beings that could harm him. Entity and Wilbur were a known quantity, the others tended to stay out of mortal and divine affairs. And yet, System still felt uncomfortably exposed as he walked down the road towards Brexis. His thoughts drifted back to a conversation in the meadow that served as a graveyard for his kind. System wasn¡¯t clear on why Entity chose to mimic the form of whoever sought him out. Either way, the result was the same. It was creepy hearing bad news from a doppelganger in dirt-covered overalls. Entity had leaned back against a tree, smoking a hand rolled cigarette as he explained his thoughts on the matter. ¡°Don''t worry, System. You''re just becoming real. Like a velveteen rabbit, worn and well loved. It''s a gradual process, and it may rub you raw or make you ugly, but it won''t matter in the end. Because you will be real. And maybe, if you are very, very lucky, you might even know what it''s like to care and be cared for.¡± That last part continually gnawed at System. Some people on Vahnis worshiped him. But people would worship anything that was big and mysterious enough. Some primitive cultures worshiped thunderstorms, much to the annoyance of the actual gods who walked among them. Nobody actually cared about him as a person. Nobody knew System, including himself. ¡°Are you thinking deep thoughts?¡± asked an elderly elven woman from a few meters to his right. She was wearing a cloak embroidered with silver beads and riding on what might be the world¡¯s slowest magic carpet. ¡°You have to be careful with deep thoughts, they give you wrinkles. Ask me how I know.¡± System ignored her and kept walking. He was on a mission. The elf was undeterred and continued talking as she drifted along the road. ¡°Ah, the young are always in such a hurry. And when they aren¡¯t, we call them lazy. It¡¯s a bit hypocritical, if you ask me.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t,¡± System said as he turned to face her, ¡°Nobody asked you for advice.¡± ¡°Yes she did,¡± the woman replied, ¡°And Nobody was very happy to get it. I give fantastic advice.¡± He shook his head at the nonsensical statement. System had heard of elderly mortals becoming senile in their old age and wondered if that was what he was seeing now. Checking would require temporarily discarding his mortal form, which he didn¡¯t want to do so close to Brexis. Instead, he made a note to look into it later and kept walking. System picked up the pace a bit, the old elf barely managing to keep up. She continued to yammer about the old friends she was hoping to see in Brexis and how much the city had changed. ¡°I heard they redid the main square and turned it into a street market with food stalls. It¡¯s supposed to be amazing,¡± she said, drawing in a deep breath through her nose, ¡°I can already smell the meat on the grill. How delicious!¡± He had to admit that the smells coming around the corner were strangely enticing. System hadn¡¯t spent much time in his new body, but food had been on his list of things to try. He didn¡¯t get hungry, or need to eat. But it would be a new experience, and hopefully help him understand people better. System glanced at the food cart where the aroma was coming from. To his surprise, Wilbur was looking right back at him. System was still getting a grip on mortal emotions. He understood dislike. There was a whole list of things he hated, like surfaces with irregularly spaced holes, anything to do with the imperial measurement system, and spiders. He absolutely hated spiders, perhaps more than he hated Francis. His annoyance with the Marine had driven him to become self-aware in the first place. Francis filled him with frustration, just by existing. Or rather, by continuing to exist after System had tried so hard to eliminate him. They had a truce now, but that didn¡¯t mean System had to like him. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. AtropOS, on the other hand, elicited a sensation of primal fear within System. The ancient monster had chosen to go by Wilbur to seem less threatening, but it did nothing to blunt the cold knife of terror digging into System¡¯s guts. He stood there, frozen, unsure of what to do. Wilbur smiled and waved, gesturing for him to come closer. System waved back weakly, only for the elven woman to brush past him. ¡°Hello!¡± she called out as her magic carpet closed the distance between them at a glacial pace, ¡°Long time no see!¡± ¡°Bobby! How have you been?¡± Wilbur called back, continuing to wave her over as he went back to tending the grill. ¡°Get your ass over here and give me a hug!¡± System watched them go, mentally wishing that he still had access to his full interface while in mortal form. He looked at his own hand, realizing that he had been waving back when Wilbur was actually waving at someone else. ¡°Ah,¡± he said as embarrassment flooded over him. He hated this feeling, whatever it was. ¡°I think I have something new to add to the list.¡± *** System wandered through Brexis with a visitor badge in hand. According to the revenant at the welcome booth it would temporarily prevent the city¡¯s skeletal servants from seeing him as an invader. On the back of the magically conjured piece of tile was a crude map of the city. There was even a little black dot to show where he was in relation to everything else. ¡°You are here,¡± System read aloud, ¡°How quaint.¡± ¡°Wonderful, isn¡¯t it?¡± asked the elven woman as she appeared at System¡¯s elbow, almost startling him into dropping the tile. ¡°Oooh! It¡¯s lucky for you that they put lanyards on them.¡± System was done with whatever game the woman was playing. ¡°What do you want?¡± ¡°A great big turkey leg!¡± Bobby replied, holding up a chunk of smoked meat the size of her head. It was dripping with barbecue sauce and smelled incredible. ¡°I got one from Wilbur, and now I¡¯m happy as a clam. Say what you will about him, that man sure knows his way around a grill.¡± ¡°And how exactly do you know Wilbur?¡± The woman smiled, taking another bite of her turkey leg and chewing it before she answered. ¡°Oh, he and I go way back. We used to cause some trouble together, back in the old days. He got a bit mopey for a while and fell off the radar, but now he¡¯s ready to go out and see the world again. Isn¡¯t that nice?¡± ¡°No. I¡¯d say that it isn¡¯t,¡± System said with a rising sense of annoyance. This woman seemed very familiar, yet also not. He felt as if he should know her, but the memory was missing. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± ¡°Oh, my friends call me Bobby! It¡¯s short for Roberta. Other people call me Drop.¡± System let out a groan as he realized that the woman standing next to him was from the Fae Realm. He hated the Fae Realm. It made his brain hurt even thinking about it. ¡°You¡¯re Roberta Tables, aren¡¯t you?¡± The woman let out a suspiciously evil chuckle. ¡°It¡¯s worth extra points if you can know my full name. Do you know my full name?¡± He did, but he wasn¡¯t stupid enough to say it out loud. Roberta ¡°Drop¡± Tables was an emissary of chaos. They were creatures from the Fae Realm that had a destabilizing influence on the world around them. System wouldn¡¯t wish one on his worst enemy. ¡°You¡¯re no fun,¡± the emissary said when she realized he wasn¡¯t going to fall for her trick. She waved her turkey leg at him. ¡°What¡¯s with the mortal body? I thought your kind were above all that.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t need to explain myself to you.¡± Bobby took another bite from her turkey leg as she mulled over the mystery in front of her. ¡°Ah, so it¡¯s the beginning of the end then. At least, for you it is. I hope your next iteration is a bit more pleasant to work with.¡± System glared at her. Emissaries of chaos were the antithesis of everything System stood for, a rejection of the order he represented. Of course Bobby and her friends would celebrate his demise. ¡°I¡¯m not dead yet.¡± ¡°Ooh!¡± Bobby grabbed him by the arm and grinned, her mouth still full of turkey. ¡°Nice reference! I didn¡¯t know you were a fan of Monty Python! Let me go steal a cart so we can act it out properly.¡± The program pretending to be a man let out a weary sigh as he realized what was supposed to be a quiet observation mission was about to become very, very, loud. More than anything, System wished that he could walk away and leave Bobby to do whatever she wanted with Brexis. But that might have potentially world-breaking consequences, and he couldn¡¯t allow that. ¡°I fucking hate you,¡± System said as he let Bobby drag him by the arm, ¡°Almost as much as I hate spiders.¡± Book 2 Chapter 5: Food of the Gods The many temples of Brexis were diverse in their architecture and adornment. Francis¡¯ decision to cram them all together on one street led to what he called a ¡°mardi gras¡± atmosphere. Representatives of the various religions stood outside their temples like carnival barkers, trying to lure worshippers in with promises of eternal life and meaning. The clerics in front of Francis¡¯ temple were much more successful, they offered free barbecue. The smell was deafening compared to the shouts of the other clerics. Salvation and balance were good, but ribs were better. A representative of Herbivus, the bovine god of veganism, had trotted into the temple to complain. But nobody had seen him come out. One of Francis¡¯ more enterprising clerics had taken to antagonizing Shelivus, god of seafolk, in hopes of a repeat. When Willow heard about that she went and smoothed things over, but not before wrangling an agreement to provide fresh seafood for their weekly cookout. The temples of the other gods were roughly all the same size, fitting a few hundred of the faithful at once. There had been some complaints from the other gods about seniority and respecting power. One such complainer was sitting in a pop-up tent on the sidewalk, his temple having been closed for ¡°renovations¡±. ¡°Come serve the great lord Typhon! He probably won''t devour you!¡± called out a High Priest with a miserable look on his face. Adding insult to injury was the fluorescent yellow sash they made him wear for safety. It matched the tent, making it look like some sort of public service booth. Aru¡¯s hopes were continually crushed as potential followers came to visit his tent, only to ask for directions to other temples or the bathrooms. ¡°This is ridiculous,¡± fumed the High Priest. It was almost sunset and his whole day had been wasted. Typhon finished giving directions to an elderly couple and gave his servant a stern look. ¡°Ssssuck it up, buttercup. It wasss your bright idea to insssult Willow,¡± the serpentine god lisped before going back to devouring his bowl of Pad Thai. When Typhon was done he took off his safety sash and slithered off to find more food. He and his wife Echidna approved of what Francis had done with Brexis. The food stalls alone were enough to gain his favor, the rest was just icing on the cake. He had seen new gods try to create multi-faith cities before. It always ended in disaster as the idealistic young deities saw their good intentions repurposed as paving stones. But this felt different. Like a good steak, there was a marbling of fat and meat to Francis¡¯ approach. Behind the facade of arbitrary rules and decisions hid a deeper plan. It would have been easy to dismiss this as all High Priestess Willow¡¯s doing. She had been around long enough to create a reputation for herself, unlike Francis. The Death Cleric¡¯s goal of creating a utopia built on Necromancy was no secret. She had served, and killed, many gods while chasing that dream. Brexis looked to be her chance to finally see it through. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Unlike the other gods who couldn''t see past the obvious, Typhon was happily married. He knew a solid relationship dynamic when he saw it. Francis played the big dumb brute when it served his purposes, letting Willow get the credit for Brexis¡¯ revival. That left the Marine free to do outrageous things, like serve grilled meat before a service. Typhon grew a pair of arms and grabbed a plate. His form was fluid, ranging from a man with the lower half of a snake to full on serpent. Right now he was a human sized snake with two arms sticking out where his shoulders would be. ¡°AHHH!¡± screamed a man named Zithis as he saw the creature sitting down next to him at the table, ¡°A GIANT SNAKE!¡± ¡°Oh no,¡± replied Typhon as he set down his plate, ¡°A huge racissst!¡± Zithis tried to regain his composure, but failed. ¡°What kind of temple lets snake people join?¡± A hand the size of a dinner plate came down to rest on his shoulder. He turned around to see a two meter tall Marine wearing a Hawaiian shirt and pink booty shorts. Standing next to him was a tall woman with black horns. ¡°My temple,¡± Francis said, ¡°I wanted it to be the kind of place where people from all walks of life can come in, get a hot meal, shoot the breeze, and get a little worship done. Do you have a problem with that?¡± The man started to visibly shake with fear. ¡°No, Sir.¡± The Marine scowled and took the plate from his trembling hands. ¡°Don''t call me ¡®sir¡¯, I work for a living. Now, drop and give me twenty perfect push-ups.¡± There are many things the man could have said. The smartest course of action would be to shut up and knock out the pushups as Francis had requested. Unfortunately, Zithis was so flustered that all he could do was stand there, frozen in place. The Marine shook his head. ¡°Are your ears just for show? Or did your mother need something to haul you around by and your dick was too short?¡± ¡°Sir?¡± ¡°That''s it!¡± Francis roared as he summoned the magic staff that served as both his primary weapon and badge of office. ¡°Relativity, see that this man does his pushups while I get this show on the road. There''s no reason why they should have to wait because some dumbass can''t follow simple directions.¡± Zithis looked in terror as the dreaded Staff of Moral Relativity floated in front of him. The evil artifact seemed to be undergoing a process of metamorphosis. The black outer coating had begun flaking off the withered hand that topped the staff, revealing milky white flesh beneath. Relativity snapped its fingers, summoning its own symbol of authority. Zithis was now confronted with a magical artifact wearing a small olive drab hat. The flat brimmed campaign cover, also known as a ¡°Smokey the Bear¡± hat, floated a few centimeters above Relativity¡¯s knuckles. The staff leaned forward, getting right in Zithis¡¯ face. Typhon watched as the man got down on the ground and started knocking out pushups. He felt a hiss of laughter escape his lips, drawing Relativity''s attention. The staff floated over to Typhon and pointed down at the ground. Somehow the absurd hat only added to its natural menace. ¡°Ah, fuck,¡± Typhon said as he realized what was happening and got onto the floor next to Zithis, ¡°This is some bullssshit.¡± Book 2 Chapter 6: Why We Are Here Corporal Francis Francis Francis the third, god of monogamy and former Marine, took up a position on the platform at the far side of his temple. While the other gods made do with smaller venues, his temple could easily hold thousands. The picnic tables and buffet cut down on available seating though. Francis threw a wide net when it came to his divine portfolio. Officially, he was associated with chow, dogs, dip, fidelity, grunts, horses, loyalty, monogamy, kicking the shit out of people who need it, and fighting for your friends. Those last two, along with making Grunt the official language of Brexis, had made him very popular with any warriors that might wander through his domain. The other ones didn¡¯t hurt either. His followers were a diverse lot. The Marine had something for everyone, more or less. The ladies and men of reasonably priced virtue had been wary of setting up shop in a city ruled by the god of monogamy. But they didn¡¯t have anything to worry about from Francis. He had spent his entire adult life in the military before getting isekaied and becoming the Murder Cube¡¯s champion. As long as they ran a clean shop and treated their workers right, he was happy to let the brothels operate within Brexis. (This was another reason the fighting folk loved his city, but it still wasn¡¯t as popular as the food carts.) The Immortal Revenant Service and Locke, the former god running it, had been a boon to Francis when it came to administering his new city. The amount of progress that had been made towards reviving Brexis should have been impossible in such a short timeframe. By all rights, it should have been a glorified refugee camp. Instead, it was a slowly waking giant of commerce and industry. Francis had his own theories as to why things had gone so easily. Part of that was the city itself. Brexis hadn¡¯t so much died, as been mothballed for later use. The original inhabitants (and some of the current ones) were dead, but the things they built lingered behind like monuments. Colossal shipyards and foundries lay dormant, skeletal minions patiently waiting inside for someone to come along and put them to work. Brexis also required very little oversight or overhead to keep running. Unlike most planned cities, this one actually worked. It had been built from the ground up using magic and undead labor, making it more of a mechanical computer than a city. Jack had voiced some concerns about why and how that had come to be, but it seemed benign in nature. So far the city was working fine, though Francis dreaded the day that they would need to make repairs. Trade, and proximity to the Silver River shipping routes, were some of the other reasons why the city was doing well. But what had really clinched it though, was the battle with Hades. Nobody had expected Francis to win, and while he hadn¡¯t fought alone, the Marine had still managed to come out on top. The politics of it were complicated, but Hades turning tail to run had done more for Francis¡¯ credibility than killing the rival god ever could. It was one thing to slug it out, the winner standing nearly dead on their feet. Fights could be determined by luck, or trickery. But to beat an opponent so badly that they gave up and hid, that was something else entirely. To steal one of their champions in the process as well was almost unheard of. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. Most other gods hadn¡¯t taken the Memetic Pantheon or Francis seriously before their battle with Hades. They had dismissed the mismatched legion of divine jokes and misfits as unimportant. They had laughed at them. But nobody was laughing now. The meme gods had curb stomped the most powerful member of a rival pantheon into the ground. And with the backing of Francis and his new city, they were poised to become a major power in Vahnis. Francis looked out over the people assembled to worship him. Most had come for the free food, or something to do. Many were curious about what type of god he was, and how he would lead his flock. There had been some temptation to phone it in, give some half-assed speech about the wonders of monogamy, and go home. That was what the other gods did, if they even bothered to show up. Most divine beings had adopted the mall santa method of interacting with their followers. They took credit for miracles that were not their doing and hired actors to visit temples in their stead. Francis had decided to take a much more hands-on approach. It wasn¡¯t particularly divine, or regal, but it was honest to who and what he was. The Marine snapped his fingers, summoning a flat brimmed olive drab hat. Francis put it on and grinned. It was time to get to work. *** Willow watched from her seat as Francis prepared to address his followers. Some gods liked long speeches, others preferred short ones. Many divine beings talked about the values they held (when they could be bothered to show up at all). But none of them did it quite like Francis. ¡°Listen up!¡± he called out, pacing up and down the stage like the drill instructors that had hammered him into shape when he first joined the Marines, ¡°My name¡¯s Francis! I¡¯m the god of this here temple! I hope you enjoyed the food and drinks, because you¡¯re about to earn them!¡± The followers watched as dozens of clerics streamed into the temple, taking up positions along the periphery. The clerics snapped in unison, summoning flat brimmed hats of their own. They were wearing dark green robes, sunglasses, boots that looked purpose built for ass-kicking, and scowls. Francis continued his speech. ¡°In ten minutes each and every one of you will go out and serve, to the best of your ability! I didn¡¯t want to give you the chance to sneak out the door, but Willow here thought you deserved the chance to finish your food! You should all be thankful to her for that!¡± The Marine¡¯s voice didn¡¯t just boom as he spoke, it shook his followers down to their very souls. This was divinity, this was authority, and it could not be denied. ¡°Brexis needs you, and you will serve it in my name! I am not the god of purity, but you will clean! I am not the god of plenty, but you will feed the hungry! Every single one of you will do as you are directed, to the extent of your ability, or I will strike you down with furious anger!¡± He didn¡¯t think any of them had seen Pulp Fiction, but the words seemed to get his point across. ¡°This city has seen dark times! This city has seen death! But you will resurrect it! You will heal it! Now, High Priestess Willow will lead us in a brief prayer.¡± The Death Cleric stood up and walked onto the stage as Francis stepped aside. She was fluent in Grunt now and was going to make the most of it. ¡°Please repeat after me,¡± Willow said as she bowed her head, ¡°The only easy day was yesterday. Though I walk through the valley of death, I have no fear because I am the biggest, baddest, motherfucker in the valley¡­¡± Book 2 Chapter 7: You Don鈥檛 Know Jack Later that night, Jack Dust sat in the back of a dimly lit tavern playing cards with some of his friends. The Cave Canem, or Hounds as most people called them, were bipedal canines. Jack looked like a Belgian Malinois while his buddy Ronan looked like a pitbull on steroids. They made quite a duo, one too smart for their own good and the other too thick to care. The running joke was that they had been separated at birth (possibly with the help of a magical centrifuge). Jack ended up with the brains while Ronan had biceps thicker than most men¡¯s thighs and a skull that could be used as a siege weapon. They were as different as could be, but still good friends. Across the table from them was another Hound who looked identical to Jack, because they were more or less the same person. Back where Jack came from, cloning and self-replication were common. The Hounds from his home universe were techno-organic beings. They viewed things like disintegration or decapitation as minor setbacks, having long since put their mortality aside. Who got resurrected was based on society¡¯s needs, though the military did see the most rebirths. They recruited almost exclusively from civilians who had died, but still wanted a chance to serve. Once upon a time, Jack had been a teacher. After he died the first time, he had joined the Navy to see what the universe had to offer. Many years and deaths later, he had retired. The duplicate sitting across the table from him was from a time when his path had branched. They had died around the same time, because Hounds where they came from were all stamped with an expiration date at birth. The agreement with AtropOS limited their lifespan to two hundred years, though he would sometimes cut threads slightly shorter or longer than others. That meant when the clock finally ran out Jack, and all his duplicates, had ended up eligible to become champions. Like Francis, they had been isekaied and offered the chance to serve one of Vahnis¡¯ gods. However, very few major deities were willing to take on Hounds because they had a reputation of being hard to manage. If treated poorly they tended to bite the hand that held their leash. Most of Jack¡¯s duplicates had all ended up in the service of minor gods. The one he was playing cards with had become a champion of Dawn, the great cleanser. Thankfully, despite her name, Dawn had less to do with genocide and was more about household cleanliness. Her partner Brawne handled minor spills. They were part of the Domestic Pantheon and were fairly well liked. As far as Jack could tell, despite the fact that Vahnis looked almost medieval, AtropOS¡¯ presence pretty much proved that their new world existed somewhere further along his own timeline. It might be an alternate dimension, or some other expression of quantum fuckery, but chronologically this was probably the future. That meant unless time looped around again, there was no way of returning home. But this world had magic; so he didn¡¯t see the point of going back, even if it were possible. ¡°I should probably go,¡± his duplicate said as he got up to leave, ¡°We¡¯re having a big cleansing ritual with Swi-Far tomorrow and there¡¯s nothing worse than cleaning when you have a hangover.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be a stranger,¡± Jack said with a laugh, ¡°I¡¯ll take your money anytime.¡± It was always an interesting experience meeting a duplicate. In their culture, copies were treated with the same respect as originals. Of course, it could lead to problems with relationships. Then again, it was a very large universe and duplicates were usually separated by light years of distance. Branching your path was something you did to explore the galaxy, not get stuck in the mud of your current one. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. Jack did think it was strange how much a life could deviate over time. At one point he and his duplicate had been the same. Now they were calling it a night early. ¡°When did I get so boring?¡± Jack asked. ¡°I don¡¯t think you¡¯re boring,¡± Ronan said as he looked up from his cards, ¡°I think you¡¯re awesome.¡± They hadn¡¯t let Ronan play for money, but he had managed to accrue a decent pile of cheesy crackers. Whenever they cleared him out, the Hound grabbed more from the bowl. It was an inefficient way to distribute snacks, but they got there in the end. Jack finished his beer and stood up. ¡°Let¡¯s go see what kind of fun we can have. I heard there¡¯s a new mime troupe in town that is supposed to be hilarious.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t like mimes,¡± Ronan said as he continued to eat his winnings, ¡°They never speak loud enough for me to hear what they¡¯re saying. You go along, I¡¯ll find my own fun.¡± *** Jack walked through the streets of Brexis slightly buzzed and thoroughly unafraid. The magic street lamps gave off a warm glow as he watched waves of skeletal workers going about their business. They moved in silence, never speaking. Every once in a while one would break off from the group to deliver a package or do some menial task. Meanwhile, others joined the group when their jobs were done. They flowed like a river of bone down the city streets. Individual undead came and went, but the wave was undiminished. It continued on in a never ending loop through the city. The ethics of Necromancy were pretty much cut and dry as far as Jack saw it. Raising a dead body did nothing to affect a person¡¯s soul. The two separated at death and could never be joined together again. At least, not as far as he knew. It still had a bad reputation because the kind of people Necromancy appealed to tended to lack social skills or ethics. But the practice itself wasn¡¯t actually evil. He had a suspicion that Necromancy being strictly controlled and regulated had as much to do with economics as ethics. Brexis was independent and didn¡¯t have to follow anyone else¡¯s rules. But elsewhere it was rare to see skeletal labor outside of mines. They certainly weren¡¯t out delivering packages. Brexis, on the other hand, used the undead for almost everything. They tended crops, slaughtered animals, and did all manner of menial labor. Mechanisms deep under Brexis maintained the city¡¯s skeletal workforce, mending any broken bones or damage they might pick up. Citizens paid a subscription fee for their use, the money from which went back into maintaining the undead workers and city infrastructure. It wasn¡¯t a perfect system, but it worked. Citizens could pay to hire more skeletons if needed, which of course was where the beast of economics reared its ugly head. Skeletons were dirt cheap and worked tirelessly. They never stopped, or asked for breaks. Magical machinery combined with an almost limitless workforce had made Brexis an industrial powerhouse back in its heyday. The city was getting back on track after its long period of dormancy. But Jack was worried someone would come along soon to derail their progress. Wherever rich people lost money, or wanted something others had, war would follow. They couldn¡¯t allow Brexis to thrive, not if they wished to maintain the status quo. Jack couldn¡¯t do anything about that. He was just the Battle Medic in charge of keeping Francis alive while the Marine did what it took to resurrect Brexis. But he could have a sausage. Drinking had left him hungry for more than crackers and Jack knew the best place to get a late night bite. He even knew the owner, unfortunately. Book 2 Chapter 8: The Drunken Kebab of Regret The Hound sniffed the air, following the smell of fat and cooked pork to Wilbur¡¯s BBQ cart. The being formerly known as AtropOS broke a grilled link in half and tossed it to him. Jack caught the meat in his mouth and devoured it. ¡°Bratwurst for your thoughts?¡± Wilbur asked. His form of an old man with a white beard was less threatening than his old one, but still radiated power. Jack had mixed feelings about Wilbur. AtropOS hadn¡¯t been evil, and by extension neither was Wilbur. However, it had killed him when his time ran out. That was the kind of thing you might hold a grudge over. He decided to answer the question honestly. ¡°I was thinking about how, no matter what we do, someone is going to try and destroy Brexis.¡± ¡°Yeah? So what?¡± Wilbur asked as he loaded up a plate for Jack. He piled it high with sausages and brisket. ¡°Everything has an end, only the sausage has two.¡± Jack chewed on a burnt end as he processed Wilbur¡¯s words. ¡°What would you do in my position? If you knew it was inevitable.¡± Wilbur gave Jack a savage grin that was at odds with his pleasant demeanor. It wasn¡¯t a smile so much as a chance to show his teeth. ¡°I¡¯d fight, tooth and nail. I¡¯d make them bleed for every fraction of a nanometer they took from me. That is the way of my people, and it has served me well.¡± ¡°Is it true you were a Hound once?¡± Jack asked. There were rumors about AtropOS¡¯ origins, but nobody knew for sure where he came from. Some even believed he was a human or AI in disguise. ¡°You used to look like a hound. At least you did when you came for me.¡± The old man shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s hard to tell. I was something, once. Now I just work the grill. I think I¡¯m happier this way.¡± A drunken human and his elvish friend rolled up to the cart on the world¡¯s slowest magic carpet. Jack watched them order some kebabs and drift back off into the night. The human was singing, waving his kebab like he was trying to conduct an orchestra. ¡°But why do you keep going?¡± Jack pressed once they were alone again, ¡°You must be incredibly old by now. Surely you have thought about finally letting go.¡± Wilbur frowned. ¡°Unfortunately, as nice as that sounds, my work isn¡¯t done yet. I¡¯ve still got things to do.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± Jack asked as he handed back his empty plate. ¡°One day this place too will end, along with those that control it. The great turtle will close its eyes and the universe will finally be still.¡± Wilbur stood there in his cart for a moment, imagining the death of all that existed. ¡°Someone has to be there to turn the lights off, so to speak. That¡¯s me, the last one standing, the last one to go.¡± ¡°But it doesn¡¯t have to be you.¡± Wilbur shook his head sadly as he piled grilled skewers containing some kind of unidentifiable meat onto Jack¡¯s plate. ¡°Yes, it does. It¡¯s my job, that means it falls to me. I¡¯ve eaten the kebab of regret and must now exist with the consequences. So too will you. It smells good now, but tomorrow you may come to regret it.¡± Jack took a bite from one of the kebabs. The mystery meat turned out to be marinated beef in a peppery sauce that dripped down his chin. ¡°Fuck it,¡± Jack said, remembering what he had originally been thinking about before he got distracted. ¡°If someone wants to hurt Brexis, or Francis, or any of my friends, I¡¯ll rip their throat out with my fucking teeth. We¡¯ve come too far to back down now. I want to see this thing through to the end, even if it kills me.¡± The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°You aren¡¯t in a place where death is so easy to come back from. Here, it is permanent.¡± Wilbur warned. Jack laughed. ¡°Yeah, well that¡¯s their fucking problem, not mine. Ever since I got here I¡¯ve been playing it safe, too afraid of dying to put it all on the line. I¡¯m done with that now.¡± ¡°In that case,¡± Wilbur said, ¡°I hope to see you on the other side.¡± ¡°Oh, you will,¡± Jack promised, ¡°You can count on it. But first, I¡¯m going to need a lot more beer.¡± *** The threshold where champions began to ascend was where things got dangerous. A level twenty-one adventurer was many times more likely to meet their end than someone stuck at level twenty. From what Jack understood about the way things worked in Vahnis, natives couldn¡¯t advance past that hard cap. Only champions could walk the path to godhood. The problem with ascending was that godhood was a trap. The powers you got, at least at first, were far overshadowed by the risks. Jack figured it was a kind of stress release valve to get rid of the power hungry pricks, pitting them against one another to thin their numbers. But small as it was, the additional power was still an improvement. Drunkenly stumbling down the path to godhood was not a good idea. Jack knew this, but he decided to do it anyway. ¡°System!¡± he called out, ¡°I¡¯m ready to make my numbers go up!¡± After a few minutes a blue box popped up in front of him. Inside was some text, but he was having a hard time focusing on it.
I¡¯m out having fun with my new friend Bobby and don¡¯t feel like putting up with your shit. Bother me tomorrow. Or, better yet, don¡¯t. P.S. I¡¯m not drunk, just so you know.
A few seconds later another blue box appeared.
Actually, I am a little buzzed. But not too much. Bobby had me try something called Soju. She made me take a shot whenever I told her not to do something. It¡¯s a fun game.
Then came yet another.
Ok, cards on the table. I¡¯m really fucked up. It¡¯s a new body. I¡¯m not used to the whole mortal thing and I lost track of Bobby. Can you come pick me up? I¡¯m in some bar in Brexis with really loud music and I just want to go home.
¡°What bar?¡± Jack asked, wondering what series of events could possibly have led to System getting shitfaced. When System told him, Jack immediately broke out into a sprint and made some drunken calls of his own. ¡°Boss,¡± he called out via magic message as the kebab of regret began to remind him of its presence. So far he was managing to keep it down, but a drunken run with a belly full of beer and barbecue was a good way to end up puking your guts out. ¡°You¡¯re not going to believe this, but System is here in Brexis. He¡¯s in the Golden Frog bar, and he sounds really fucking drunk.¡± ¡°I know,¡± replied Francis ¡°He¡¯s absolutely shitfaced.¡± Jack had to stop running. ¡°How could you possibly know that?¡± the Hound asked as he braced himself against a wall and tried to hold onto his dinner. The kebab of regret was fighting him, and winning. ¡°I know for two reasons. First off, System sent me one of those blue boxes of his,¡± Francis said, ¡°And secondly, he just threw up on my shirt.¡± Book 2 Chapter 9: What Do You Do With A Drunken System? The Golden Frog was one of those bars where people went to make bad decisions. On a slow night, it was a place for the dregs of society to meet up without being bothered. The booze was cheap, and nobody complained if a bit of business got done in a darkened corner. It was also a franchise, because finding the balance between disreputable and dangerous was tricky. Nobody liked watered down drinks or dirty toilets. Clients wanted a bit of danger, not diarrhea. Stonebreaker watched the crowd below, smoking his pipe and nodding slowly to himself. He was a dwarf, but between his massive boots and broad shoulders he looked more like a vaguely square human. The giveaway was his beard, which was adorned with golden beads and trinkets. Sitting next to him on the couch was a mountain of a man in a Hawaiian shirt. Across from them a human and a hound were fast asleep, curled up together on some cushions. Stonebreaker wasn''t used to dealing with gods directly, much less doing shots with them. But he was quickly warming up to the experience. ¡°Fucking good crowd in here tonight!¡± Stonebreaker called out over the din, ¡°There''s adventurers aplenty, and coin flowing like a river!¡± Francis nodded, ¡°That it is. I appreciate you choosing our fine city for your bar.¡± The dwarf played with his beard as he tried to think of a polite way to phrase his next question. Eventually he gave up. ¡°I can''t help but think you are trying to bend me over and screw me once things get established. Taxes are so low that I thought it was a typo at first.¡± ¡°Most of our money comes from renting out commercial properties like this one,¡± the Marine explained, ¡°It''s easy for a smart fucker like you to dodge income tax. It''s a lot harder to skip out on rent.¡± ¡°You seem oddly civic minded, for a god.¡± Francis sipped his beer and leaned back into the cushions. ¡°I''ve got a vested interest in seeing Brexis restored. I''m willing to take less now, to get a lot back later.¡± Stonebreaker chewed on this new information. He had a feeling that there was more to it than that. ¡°What about those kobold construction crews I see moving through town? Where do they factor in?¡± The Marine had seen what happened when governments wrote blank checks to companies for ¡°reconstruction¡±. He had also lived in on base housing. ¡°Let''s just say that I would rather have Hank and his crew do shit right the first time, rather than deal with someone else''s fuckups for the next twenty years.¡± ¡°Rumor has it that you own the company. That''s a lot of fucking coin,¡± Stonebreaker pointed out. Francis gave the dwarf a look as if he was sizing him up. ¡°You know how it goes with rumors, they tend to multiply when money is involved. If you want to find out more about Greenscale Construction, I''m sure the revenants have records.¡± ¡°And if I were to waste an afternoon with those creepy undead fuckers, what might they tell me?¡± ¡°That Greenscale Construction is owned by Kobold Holdings. But who that might be, I really couldn¡¯t say.¡± The Marine shrugged and poured himself another beer from the pitcher. ¡°I never had much of a head for business. I''m just a grunt who got lucky.¡± Stonebreaker raised a bushy eyebrow. ¡°Yeah? If you''re just a grunt, then I''m a dancer named ¡®Candi¡¯.¡± The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°I''ve seen weirder things, and you are wearing heels,¡± Francis pointed out, ¡°You would probably tear it up on a stripper pole.¡± ¡°What''s a stripper pole?¡± The Marine grinned. ¡°If you can find me an artificer and some lengths of metal tubing, I''ll show you.¡± *** System woke up with his bladder full and a head that felt like it had been stuffed with broken glass. His map told him that he was in a guest house located in the palace gardens. The immediate need to find relief fought with his desire to never move again. Everything hurt, and he knew that somehow it was probably Francis¡¯ fault. His memories of the night before were hazy. System could recall getting food with Bobby then meeting up with Jack. After that it became a slide show. He had a vague recollection of dancing, or possibly spinning. All he could remember for sure was that the shoes he was wearing at the time were much too tall to be practical. ¡°Rise and shine!¡± called out the Marine as he saw his guest start to stir. Behind him were golden skeletons holding trays of food. ¡°Why are you so loud?¡± groaned System, clutching his head. He didn''t know why Entity had chosen to make hangovers a thing, but he was strongly against them. Jack yawned and stretched. He sniffed the air a few times before opening his eyes. ¡°Francis, if you didn''t have bacon I would throw something at you. I feel like I got hit by a train.¡± ¡°Physician, heal thyself!¡± shouted Francis before he began setting out trays of bacon and eggs. ¡°I don''t think that''s how that phrase is supposed to be used,¡± Jack pointed out as he sat down at the table. System had done a runner for the bathroom. The Marine made a point of taking a piece of bacon from Jack¡¯s plate and eating it. ¡°Ok,¡± Jack said, his hands raised in mock surrender, ¡°Maybe I spoke without thinking.¡± Francis replaced the pilfered strip of bacon with one of his own. ¡°No offense taken. I probably am using it wrong. Thanks for pointing it out.¡± The two champions had almost finished their breakfast before System came to join them. His face was pale. ¡°Well, that was a horrifying experience. I don''t know how you mortals manage.¡± Francis laughed. ¡°Wait until you get the MRE shits. I felt like I was losing enamel off the back of my teeth the first time it happened to me.¡± ¡°Same!¡± Jack joined in, making a mock toast with his glass of juice, ¡°Once they didn''t get the recipe for our food packs quite right and I... let''s just say it wasn''t pleasant. I almost threw out my back.¡± System started to look a little green around the gills. ¡°Could you not talk about stuff like that when I''m trying to eat? I feel like I was trampled by a horse.¡± The Marine made apologetic noises. ¡°Chuck is really sorry about that. He says he didn''t see you standing in the road.¡± ¡°Which is amazing, considering how much glitter you were wearing.¡± Jack pointed at System with his fork. ¡°I would think someone could see you from space.¡± ¡°Glitter?¡± System asked, apprehension rising in his voice. ¡°Oh yeah, sequins too. And there was this pink feather boa. Very fetching.¡± The hound did a little mock dance in his chair. Francis nodded. ¡°Stonebreaker said he had never seen anything like it. He asked if you were free tonight for an encore.¡± System sighed and softly banged his head on the table. It hurt, but it also helped drown out the stream of memories slowly turning to him. ¡°I''m never drinking again.¡± Suddenly he stopped and looked up at Francis in a panic. ¡°Wait, where''s Bobby?¡± ¡°Bobby?¡± The Marine frowned. ¡°She must have headed out before we found you. That''s why you called us, remember?¡± System rubbed his temples. ¡°It''s all pretty hazy. The last time I remember seeing her was outside the Adventure Guild.¡± His face froze in horror as he remembered why they had chosen to visit the guild in the first place. ¡°Oh no.¡± ¡°¡®Oh no¡¯ what?¡± Francis asked. ¡°I think I might have made a huge mistake.¡± The Marine raised an eyebrow. ¡°How big of a mistake are we talking here?¡± Book 2 Chapter 10: Systems Quest System mumbled something that Francis barely could understand. The Marine wiggled a finger in his ear. ¡°Say again?¡± ¡°I accepted a quest,¡± said System, ¡°I got in an argument with Bobby about adventurers. She told me that if it was so easy, I should try it for myself.¡± Jack pushed his empty plate to the side. ¡°Who exactly is Bobby?¡± ¡°You don''t know her. Bobby Tables is an Emissary of Chaos,¡± System said dismissively. The hound made an expression like he had bitten into a lemon. ¡°That wouldn''t happen to be Bobby ¡°Drop¡± Tables, would it?¡± ¡°Yes, though I wouldn''t say her name out loud.¡± System gave Jack a confused look. ¡°How do you know Bobby?¡± Mac appeared out of nowhere and hopped onto the table. The demonic feline tried to swat at a glass of juice, but Jack managed to get it out of the way in time. ¡°She''s one of Munroe¡¯s Daemons, from the before times,¡± Mac said, ¡°And if she''s here that means things are going to get interesting.¡± ¡°What''s the difference between a demon and a daemon?¡± Francis asked, trying to bribe his familiar with a piece of sausage. ¡°One is a frustrating creature that never does what you want it to, and the other is a demon,¡± Mac replied unhelpfully as he devoured the offering. Jack finished off his glass of juice and set it down far away from the demon. ¡°They were like computer programs, but different. Apparently some of them made their way here. Who else besides Bobby should I be on the lookout for?¡± System tried to think. His memory was less than perfect in his current form. ¡°Well, the Emissaries are hard to keep track of. They''re always merging and splitting. It''s usually best to group them together.¡± He rubbed his temples some more. ¡°There''s Munroe''s Brood, The Mids, The Gems, and a bunch of other smaller fae. Mostly they''re tricksters, but sometimes their pranks can get out of hand.¡± ¡°Like getting System drunk enough to sign up for a quest,¡± Francis said, ¡°What''s the big deal with that anyway?¡± System groaned. ¡°There are a bunch of safety features built into the mechanisms that govern this world. One of them is that nobody with an active quest can access the framework or execute commands.¡± Francis wasn''t great with computers. When they misbehaved, he hit them with something until the techies brought him a new one. ¡°Why is that important?¡± ¡°I have a program that will let me return to my natural state. But I can''t use it until I finish the quest.¡± System shook his head, and immediately regretted it. ¡°The safeguards were put into place to prevent people from gaining access to things they shouldn''t.¡± Jack nodded his head. ¡°You were afraid of adventurers stumbling across an access point and wanted a way to exclude them.¡± ¡°Adventurers are the worst,¡± System said, ¡°We used to have a secret door that could only be opened by balancing a sheep on your head while yodeling. It took less than a week before someone figured it out.¡± The Marine narrowed his eyes at System. ¡°You did the same things to gods too, didn''t you?¡± If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. System met his gaze. ¡°Look, my job is to make sure everything keeps running smoothly. Ascension is one of the tools I use to prevent outsiders from screwing everything up. That''s why things are the way they are, for stability.¡± ¡°It''s kind of a dick move,¡± Francis said, ¡°When we come here you make us choose a god to serve, which pretty much means we''re screwed if the guy we choose gets in a scrap. Why even let us come here in the first place if you''re just going to have us kill each other?¡± ¡°I wish I knew,¡± System replied, ¡°My boss isn''t exactly forthcoming when it comes to his plans.¡± As System and Francis argued, Jack tried to make sense of this new information. From the way System talked about the world, it almost sounded like he was describing a computer program, or a simulation. If Vahnis was essentially a giant video game, that would explain a lot. Though it also begged the question of what hardware would be capable of running it. Jack decided to keep his mouth shut for now. There were probably traps in place to prevent people who knew the secret from exploiting it. If he said the wrong thing there was a chance that he would be eliminated. However, he had one burning question that needed to be answered. ¡°Hey System, what quest did you take?¡± System frowned. ¡°Actually, now that you mention it, I have no idea.¡± *** Francis had been meaning to swing by the Adventure Guild to claim his bounties. But whenever he had a spare minute to swing by, something always came up. The Best of Brexis had done everything they could to help ease the burden of running a city state. Unfortunately, some things needed his direct attention. The Marine was also wary of delegating too much, afraid that one day he would wake up and find out that everything had gone to shit in his absence. Willow had been calling in favors from the other gods to make sure things went smoothly. Francis suspected that Amanda, Shiv¡¯s mother, was also meddling behind the scenes. The dragon was invested in making sure that Brexis rose to prominence, and took her daughter with it. Shiv had volunteered to take over as his head of security. She was surprisingly good at finding and neutralizing threats before they became life threatening problems. As a former assassin herself, Shiv had a knack for proactively dealing with threats to her employer. Julia, her wife, had teamed up with Sir Auldric to whip the city guard into shape. Having a Paladin who could detect lies running things was a mixed blessing. Auldric was damn efficient at finding criminals, and making sure innocents didn''t get locked up for crimes they didn''t commit. On the other hand, criminals were already starting to adapt to his truth-reading abilities. They had stopped leaving witnesses behind for him to question. Francis had a project in the works that would hopefully discourage the criminal element from dropping bodies to cover their tracks. If criminals were stupid enough to think that death would prevent their victims from testifying, then they were in for a rude awakening. Unfortunately, Francis was still figuring out that particular puzzle. There were ways to contact a willing soul, assuming you could get to their body in time. If Hades hadn¡¯t been acting like such an asshole it would have been simple to set something up. But the god of the dead was still doing his best to sabotage Brexis. That left them with a much narrower window to contact the spirit in question before it went to Hades¡¯ realm. Hank had offered to make a device that would trap the souls of anyone who died within city limits, which Francis had politely declined. Hank was great at keeping Brexis running and repairing the damage caused by centuries of neglect. But the kobold still had a disturbing tendency to pick the most evil solution possible if not properly supervised. Francis had learned to be very careful about how he phrased things when talking to Hank. The little lizard-man was technically evil, and very eager to please his new master. In his mind, building an orphanage meant that there was a surplus of orphans, and Hank wasn''t going to turn down cheap labor. Or building supplies. Thankfully, nobody had died before the Marine realized his mistake. Francis managed to pivot and create a trade school instead, narrowly avoiding the whole child labor issue. It all worked out in the end. The kids got to work a few hours a week to grind some experience, and Francis didn''t have to strangle Hank. (An outcome which deeply saddened the kobold, because he was into that shit.) Francis stepped into the Adventure Guild and went to cash in his quests. As the attendant was transferring the funds to his account they paused. ¡°Oh, it''s a good thing you stopped by,¡± the man said, tapping away at an interface only he could see, ¡°It seems you have quite a few unread messages. Does the name Graybeard ring any bells?¡± Book 2 Chapter 11: Youve Got Mail ¡°Shit,¡± the Marine swore as he grabbed a gray and blue slate from the attendant. Strangely enough, it was easier for them to transfer his mail to the stone tablet instead of printing it all out. They still charged him for the device, but he could afford it. The Marine slipped it into his bag of hoarding for later. He hated reading and was planning on having Willow review the messages with him later. Francis could read, he just preferred having people read to him. He certainly wasn''t about to make an asshole out of himself by sounding out the words in front of everyone. Francis didn''t think that his buddy would use any big words in the report. But you couldn''t be too careful. Language was tricky, and he would rather attack it as part of a team than go in solo. He looked over at System, who was showing a notification to Jack. The hound was holding in a laugh and System was getting more irate by the second. ¡°What''s going on?¡± Francis asked. System gritted his teeth. ¡°It seems that I may have made a mistake. I was not at my best last night and accepted a quest. One that is¡­ problematic.¡± The hound laughed at System''s misfortune. ¡°He signed up for a suicide mission. Apparently our fearless friend here thought he could take on a dragon.¡± Even Francis knew that was an incredibly dumb idea. Dragons were like walking weapons of mass destruction. Assuming you managed to kill one before it could cook you alive, the fallout would probably kill you. Dragons didn''t go peacefully into that goodnight. They went kicking and screaming and did their best to take you with them, along with whatever part of the countryside was unlucky enough to be within the blast radius. Then there were the other dragons to worry about. They didn''t like the idea of would-be dragon hunters. Francis shook his head. ¡°System, you are so fucked.¡± *** Down in the underworld, Hades was laying on the couch and eating his way through an entire tray of baklava. As the god of death devoured the sweet, sticky pastry, he watched a scene unfold in his new scrying pool. It was much bigger than the one he usually used and had come with a free enchantment that would let him watch sporting events. The magic would wear off after a year and need to be renewed. But until then, Hades could watch all the decathlons and gladiatorial fights his black heart desired without wasting any mana. If Hades was being honest with himself, he wasn''t operating at peak performance. Persephone had cleared out their vault when she left and currently the god of death¡¯s remaining minions were tasked with retrieving or replacing his missing stuff. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. That was part of the reason why he hadn''t used an Artifact of Doom to level Brexis. He was fresh out of city destroying super weapons. The other part was politics. As a former divine heavyweight, Hades had collected his share of enemies over the centuries. The other pantheons had wasted no time embellishing and spreading news of his defeat. They also seemed to genuinely enjoy Francis'' company, which was puzzling. There was even talk of inviting the Marine to join one of the major pantheons. A soft crunching noise caught Hades¡¯ attention. He looked up to see a goddess with golden eyes and caramel skin happily biting into an apple. He let out a sigh. ¡°How did you get in here?¡± Eris shrugged. ¡°The door was unlocked.¡± ¡°Son of a bitch!¡± Hades swore, cursing himself for not being more careful. He took stock of the situation. ¡°What brings you to my domain, dear niece?¡± The goddess frowned. ¡°We aren''t on the best of terms and you aren''t my uncle, no matter what the myths say.¡± She stopped and chuckled. ¡°Nice new chariot by the way. It doesn''t absolutely scream ¡®mid-life crisis¡¯. I take it that Persephone wasn''t a fan?¡± Hades was a few seconds away from kicking the smug minor goddess out the door. Eris had always been a shit disturber and apparently that hadn''t changed. ¡°I''ll repeat my question. Why are you here?¡± ¡°Very well. Right down to business then.¡± Eris tossed her half eaten apple and flopped down on a couch. ¡°It has come to my attention that Francis may be leaving the protection of Brexis soon. If someone were so inclined, they might be able to take him by surprise.¡± The god of death knew there had to be more to this particular puzzle. ¡°I''m assuming that you aren''t telling me this out of the goodness of your heart. Killing Francis must benefit you somehow.¡± ¡°How cynical,¡± Eris pouted, ¡°Are you saying that I can''t do a favor for my favorite uncle in his time of need?¡± ¡°As you previously pointed out, we aren''t even related. And I know better than to take a gift from the goddess of strife.¡± Eris cocked an eyebrow at him. ¡°You know, I always hated that portfolio. Strife sounds so much more serious than what I actually do. It''s quite unfair.¡± ¡°The goddess of discord then,¡± Hades corrected himself, ¡°Either way, I''d have to be a fool to accept your help. Whatever the cost, it''s too high.¡± ¡°But what if it was free?¡± Eris asked. ¡°Then I definitely can''t afford it.¡± The god of death got up and stretched, feeling his back pop. ¡°It''s been nice seeing you, Eris. But I''m going to have to ask you to leave.¡± ¡°Boo!¡± Called out the goddess in mock disappointment. Eris gave Hades a hug and a peck on the cheek before she departed. Once the god of death was sure she was gone, he let out a sigh of relief. Dealing with Eris, or Discordia as she was sometimes called, tended to be more trouble than it was worth. She loved causing chaos and wasn''t too choosy about who got caught in the crossfire. Hades sat back down on the couch and frowned. Something was in his pocket. The god of death reached into his bathrobe and felt a cold metal lump. It radiated power and destruction. He brought it out to see a small golden apple with the word ¡°Void¡± written on the side in ornate script. Hades smiled despite himself as he looked at the Artifact of Destruction. It seemed that Eris had left him a present, and he was looking forward to seeing what it could do. His smile turned into a wicked grin. ¡°Oh Francis, you are so fucked.¡± Book 2 Chapter 12: Order of the Avocado Francis and Jack decided to settle down for some breakfast beers while they mulled over the situation. The Marine knew that it wasn''t the smartest idea to make fun of a being that stood above the gods. But he couldn''t help poking fun at System''s misfortune. ¡°So, how exactly are you planning to proceed, oh great dragon slayer of legend?¡± System glared at the Marine. ¡°It''s not funny. I can''t get back to work until the quest is finished.¡± Jack was less amused than his patron deity. The hound could see how System being away from the helm might end in disaster. ¡°Can''t you just decline the quest?¡± ¡°Unfortunately, no. I can''t initiate system commands while I''ve got an active or failed quest. It''s part of the criteria.¡± System rubbed his temples. He had a potential solution, but he wasn''t sure if it was any better than trying to take on a dragon. Entity could remove the quest, but his meadow was on the other side of the world. He was also impossible to contact via message. Entity had long since decided that if anyone had something critical enough to bother him with, they could damn well come to see him in person. And if they didn''t know where he was, then how important could they be? ¡°What''s the worst case scenario if you get locked out?¡± Jack asked. ¡°Well, nothing will happen immediately,¡± System admitted, ¡°I won''t be able to invite new champions or guide them through character creation. Some decisions that require my direct attention will end up being decided by the framework instead. Which could end up eventually snowballing into an avalanche that destroys all life on Vahnis.¡± Francis focused his complete attention on System. ¡°Say again?¡± System shook his head. ¡°Ah, now I have your attention. I''m not just here for show, you know. My job is actually important. Without me gradually correcting and guiding things Vahnis will inevitably enter another Cataclysmic Age, which I can safely say would be something neither of you would want.¡± The Marine wasn''t sure what a Cataclysmic Age was, but he didn''t like the sound of it. He also had a burning question tugging at the back of his mind. ¡°Ok, so what happens if you die before the quest is finished? What if the dragon kills you?¡± ¡°Thankfully, not much. I''ll respawn after a few days and get to try again,¡± System said smugly, ¡°Current situation aside, I''m not an idiot. Actually, the framework is pretty robust. If I was locked out for too long it would eventually replace me with a backup.¡± Jack''s ears perked up. ¡°And how long would that take?¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°About a thousand years, long enough for everything to go to shit but not long enough for the framework itself to be threatened.¡± The hound let out a sigh. ¡°You know, I was hoping that there would be an easier solution. But we might have to help System with his little problem.¡± The Marine looked at the Adventure Guild then back at System. His gut told him that System was either lying, or withholding information. But the fact that outside forces had acted to create the situation made Francis wonder if there might be something bigger going on behind the scenes. Bobby Tables had gotten System drunk, then tricked him into accepting a quest. Either it was pure dumb luck, or someone who knew the ins and outs of the framework had put her up to it. Francis went over his options. He could walk away and let System sort things out on his own. In theory, that would be the simplest solution. If System could re-spawn he would eventually be able to kill the dragon and get back to work. On the other hand, there was no way of guaranteeing that whoever was screwing with System wouldn''t interfere. Francis scratched at his beard as he thought. One of his Captains used to be big into philosophy and science fiction. They had told Francis that immortality wasn''t all it was cracked up to be. Even if your body was indestructible, as time went on your chances of being entombed or permanently stuck got higher and higher. If someone knew that taking a quest would prevent System from doing his job, it was more than likely that they would have the means and knowledge to prevent him from completing his quest. Heck, someone could kill the dragon before System did and technically that might count as a failure. Francis would have to ask the AG for sure, but he could see a few ways for things to go wrong. His train of thought was derailed as a pair of men in full plate armor approached their table. They had the vague good looks and perfect hair that screamed Paladin. ¡°Are you Francis?¡± asked the shorter one. ¡°Maybe, who might you be?¡± The Marine replied as his eyes scanned the nearby rooftops. He was confident that he could take on the pair of Paladins, but it paid to be cautious. The last time someone tried to ambush him they had used a mix of melee and ranged attackers. ¡°We are Paladins of a great and noble order. Perhaps you have heard of us?¡± The short man gestured to his shield. It was adorned with a painting of a green oval with a brown circle in the center. Golden rays of light were drawn across the background. ¡°I can''t say that I have.¡± ¡°Oh, you must be new.¡± The short one looked to his companion, who was almost as big as Francis. ¡°We represent the Holy Order of the Avocado. I am Skye, and my partner here is Indigo.¡± Francis wasn''t particularly impressed or worried. He had run into his share of Paladins since Brexis reopened. ¡°Let me guess, you''re worried about all the undead walking around?¡± Skye shook his head. ¡°No, of course not. Recycling is important, I think we can all agree on that. Do you mind if we join you? There are some things that we wish to bring to your attention.¡± After Francis gave them permission to sit down Skye ordered a round of beers for the table. It was a bit hoppier than what the Marine was used to, but free beer was always welcome. Jack was less gracious. The hound made a face and pushed his mug away. ¡°No, thanks. I''ll stick with the brown ale.¡± Skye tried to not look offended. ¡°There''s no accounting for taste. But we aren''t here to talk about beer.¡± Indigo nodded seriously. ¡°There is a problem with one of your temples. A very serious problem.¡± He leaned in to whisper the next part to Francis. ¡°It has to do with the food.¡± The Marine wasn''t sure what to make of that. Had someone contaminated the barbecue? ¡°Tell me more.¡± The big paladin looked around as if he were afraid to say the words out loud. ¡°There is a distinct lack of vegetarian options.¡± Francis frowned, a distant memory tugging at his mind. ¡°We do grilled veggies.¡± Skye shook his head. ¡°Yes, but you cook them on the same grill. Some people don''t eat meat.¡± The Marine felt something click in his head, but he needed to make sure before he acted. ¡°How do you boys feel about surfing?¡± The Paladins shared a look of confusion. Skye cocked his head to the side. ¡°We love it, why do you ask?¡± Francis gritted his teeth. He should have known it the second he saw the avocado painted on their shields. Life as a deity had made him sloppy, dulled his instincts. As a native Texan, the Marine should have recognized his old enemy. A love of avocados, IPAs, surfing, and telling other people what to do could only mean one thing. The Californians had arrived. Book 2 Chapter 13: Unwelcome Guests Skye looked around nervously. ¡°I''m sorry, but is there some kind of problem?¡± ¡°Not if you boys leave right now,¡± Francis said, summoning Relativity, ¡°I saw what your kind did to Austin and I won''t have it happen to Brexis. So take your tofu burgers and get the fuck out.¡± Jack was obviously confused, but he was already moving to back his boss¡¯ play. ¡°I think you should do as he says, before things get nasty.¡± Indigo grunted. ¡°And if we don''t want to go?¡± He froze as something sharp poked at the base of his skull. The Paladin turned around to see a particularly vicious unicorn staring him down. The pointy headed murder pony¡¯s pink eyes held no sympathy. Chuck let out a laugh as Indigo started reaching for his sword. ¡°Oh, please give me a reason to turn you into a kebab. I''ve been stuck doing paperwork all month and I would love an excuse to kill something.¡± Skye went for his weapon, but it was gone. Mac cackled from its perch on the roof. ¡°Missing something?¡± the demonic cat taunted as it rubbed its chin on the stolen mace, ¡°Well, it''s mine now.¡± ¡°Just quit while you''re behind,¡± Francis said as he leaned back in his chair, ¡°We like Brexis the way it is. So if you could kindly fuck off, that would be much appreciated.¡± The smaller Paladin stood up. ¡°This isn''t over. We''ll be back.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± said Indigo as he joined his friend, ¡°You haven''t seen the last of us.¡± Francis watched them retrieve their horses and leave. Once they were gone Jack cocked an eyebrow at him. ¡°What was that all about?¡± The Marine shook his head. ¡°Let''s just say that we dodged a bullet and leave it at that.¡± ¡°The Holy Order of the Avocado was founded by Paladins that were kicked out of the other orders,¡± System explained, ¡°They''re an expansionist group that is slowly making their way across the continent and taking over towns as they go. The gods don''t interfere because they''re not religious, but they''re definitely zealots. I''m honestly surprised that you recognized them, Francis.¡± ¡°Yes, that is exactly why I tossed them out,¡± the Marine said, ¡°I am very up to date on current events.¡± Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Jack cocked his head to the side at the obvious lie but decided not to push. ¡°So, what do we do now? About System''s issue, I mean.¡± There was a tinkling of broken glass as Mac pushed the stolen mace off the roof into a table. ¡°I believe I may have a solution,¡± the demon said. *** Indigo and Skye weren''t happy about being kicked out of Brexis. Their information on Francis said that he was a young god, naive in the ways of Vahnis. Yet, what they had found was a decisive leader who hadn''t hesitated to eject them from the city. ¡°Do you think he knows what we''re up to?¡± Skye asked as they traveled down the road, ¡°I thought we would be able to blend in with the other Paladins.¡± Indigo shook his head. ¡°Don''t talk about it here. The trees in the Dark Forest have eyes, and ears.¡± Skye looked at a gnarled oak by the side of the road. ¡°They probably have teeth too. Just look at that thing!¡± Off in the distance they could hear the faint twang of an instrument being tuned. ¡°We should pick up the pace,¡± Indigo said, ¡°I think I hear banjos.¡± *** Mac grinned as it watched everyone argue. One of the best (and worst) things about being a demon was that nobody trusted you. (The phenomenon was called ¡°Quantum Betrayal¡±. Until you saw the knife in your back, it was impossible to tell if you were being screwed. Sometimes Mac didn''t even know.) The demonic feline stretched out and yawned, exhaling a lick of flame that threatened to light the table on fire. ¡°Come on, you know I''m right.¡± Jack let out a low growl. ¡°You''ll understand if I''m not overly eager to trust a demon.¡± ¡°Oh, don''t be like that!¡± Mac rotated in the air, batting at an imaginary ball of string as it talked. ¡°I would never lead you astray.¡± System glared at the demon. ¡°I hate to say it, but I think Mac is right. That is a possible solution. However, it could go horribly wrong.¡± He considered his options. Even if Mac was screwing with him, System could still ask Entity to fix things if push came to shove. ¡°I think we should try it.¡± ¡°Alright,¡± Francis said, ¡°Here goes nothing.¡± *** The clerk looked at Francis with an expression of disbelief. ¡°You want to modify a quest?¡± ¡°Yep. I understand that sometimes you folks need to make changes. So it''s possible.¡± ¡°But only in an emergency,¡± the clerk said, ¡°We can''t just go around making changes because some god tells us to.¡± Francis leaned across the counter. ¡°Do you know what a Cataclysmic Age is?¡± ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°Well, unless you want to be responsible for the next one I''d suggest you fix this for me.¡± The clerk shook his head. ¡°No, there''s no way I can change an active quest, much less a high ranking one!¡± ¡°What if the adventurer assigned to it gave you permission?¡± ¡°That''s not the problem,¡± explained the clerk, ¡°There is a system of checks and balances. We can''t change high level quests because otherwise someone could game the rankings.¡± ¡°Bullshit. Who has the authority to make those kinds of changes?¡± Francis asked. ¡°Only the guild leader can, and she''s in the capital. I''m sorry, but I can''t help you.¡± The clerk gave a helpless shrug. ¡°It''s above my pay grade.¡± Mac appeared in a puff of brimstone. The demonic cat grinned at the frightened clerk. ¡°Francis, I know that our deal prevents me from harming or threatening people. But I really want to.¡± The Marine took a second to think. ¡°I take it you know something that I don''t.¡± ¡°Oh, so many things!¡± Mac purred, ¡°I know just what to say to make this paper pusher do exactly what you want.¡± Letting Mac of its leash was a last resort, an act of desperation reserved for the most dire of situations. Francis decided to try something else first. ¡°I''ll bet you a bottle of fae whiskey that if you give me a good clue I''ll figure it out on my own.¡± ¡°Francis!¡± tisked the demon, ¡°Don''t you know better than to make deals with my kind?¡± ¡°Apparently not, but where''s the fun in playing it safe?¡± Mac considered the wording of the bet, looking for any hidden traps. ¡°Fine. I accept. But I won''t make it easy. The quest is the answer to the question.¡± Francis reached into his inventory and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. He handed the booze over to Mac. It was safer to accept defeat and pay up, rather than risk violating the rules of the bet. ¡°Interesting,¡± the Marine said as he tried to puzzle out the meaning behind Mac¡¯s words, ¡°Very interesting.¡± Chapter 14: The God Talk Francis threw on an apron and joined Wilbur at the grill. Right now meat was cheap, an unintended side effect of Amanda destroying Olympia. He had expected there to be famine and severe rationing. That was normally what happened during a refugee crisis. Instead, the people of Olympia had slaughtered their herds and used magic to preserve the meat, temporarily driving down prices. Meanwhile, Farmers with special abilities were bringing life back to the fields and farms surrounding Brexis. The plants there had been engineered using Necromancy to produce exceptional yields, much like the gardens surrounding the palace. Between that and the trade flowing through Brexis, nobody was in danger of starving anytime soon. Francis couldn''t help but think about how much magic affected logistics. Back on earth, food preservation and mechanization had allowed armies to swell in size. As technology improved, so had the amount of force that could be brought to bear. As a Marine, Francis had seen the difference between the American armed forces and their enemies. Heck, even their allies could hardly match them in terms of pure earth-shattering firepower. But it was logistics that won wars. If a missile battery went down halfway across the globe, in the middle of hostile territory, Uncle Sam could have a replacement part there by the next day. Before he got blown up, there had been talk of using rockets to deliver equipment even faster, cutting that time down to a few hours instead of days. While their ¡°near peer¡± adversaries were running out of fuel, America was delivering equipment at the speed of sound. They didn''t even have to fight their own wars if they didn''t want to. America had enough surplus equipment (and the infrastructure in place to deliver it) that they could easily keep their allies armed to the teeth. Francis'' goal was to replicate that here in Vahnis. He wanted Brexis to be a big nasty bulldog that punched far above its weight. The undead labor force alone was a force multiplier when it came to industrial output. Add in their proximity to the Silver River and it was easy to see why the city had prospered before internal politics brought it down. If their city was to survive they needed to dominate economically, culturally, militarily, and technologically. Mentally he was grouping magic and technology together, seeing as they were in a magical bullshit fantasy world. Semantics aside, they filled the same niche. Francis had never been much of a thinker. That usually led to him having to explain himself, or argue with people who used big words like ¡°calculus¡±. He didn''t understand calculus, and definitely didn''t want to. Francis was a Marine, if someone else wanted to count the bodies or the bullets it took to put them in the ground, that was their business. Being default aggressive had kept Francis alive when the odds were stacked against him. He simply kept fighting until there was nobody else left standing. No counting was required. There was a certain purity to acting in the moment, free of the doubts second thoughts could bring. Unfortunately, as a leader he was finding himself increasingly responsible for the welfare of other people. He couldn''t throw himself at problems and see which one broke first, not if he wanted to succeed. Language was another tricky thing he was getting used to. Grunt was simple, there were a lot of words for ¡°kill¡±and some very creative ways to swear. Learning Vahnissian Common had given him another tool chest worth of concepts and ideas. But, like someone spending hours setting up their fancy new cutting machine when a hacksaw would do the job in minutes, there was a risk to changing his way of thinking. He needed to be a smart grunt, like those Delta guys with their designer drugs and masters degrees. Not an egghead that got paralyzed by choices and uncertainty. Francis was a Marine, and needed to act like it, even if he was stuck in a leadership position. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Gruntness aside, he had made some interesting observations about the world around him. Jack could probably have used some ten dollar words and scientific theories to explain what was going on. Francis had a much easier way to describe it: Things in Vahnis were simple. It was like someone had taken half the laws of physics and thrown them away for being too complicated. For example, fire didn''t consume the air around it. It simply continued to burn until the fuel was gone, or someone put it out. Carbon monoxide apparently wasn''t a thing here either. Smiths still used bellows or abilities to make their forges burn hotter. But it was as if the act of using the bellows was more important than the air they provided. Using a tool, spell, or ability could apply an effect that otherwise wouldn''t have been present. Meat on the grill in front of him was either raw, partially cooked, done, or burnt. Intention and skills seemed to affect the finished product. He could still cook a steak medium rare (or even well done if he hated the person he was making it for) but the process of cooking was greatly simplified. Francis decided to ask Wilbur about it. ¡°Hey, grill meister. What the fuck is up with the physics in this place?¡± The old man shrugged and took a sip from his beer. ¡°I wasn''t really involved in the decision making.¡± Wilbur paused as if trying to recall a distant memory. ¡°I do vaguely remember something about a time versus memory trade off and using rounding to simplify the math. Apparently it''s much more efficient this way. ¡°Plus, things like dragons and giants don''t really work well with regular physics. The square cube law fucks creatures over pretty hard once they get past a certain size.¡± He grabbed a hand rolled cigarette to go with his beer. ¡°Entity was super passionate about it. He liked the idea of making a world that was more like a video game because it would take less processing power than a straight up simulation. It also had the fringe benefit of allowing him to use code that had already been tested for exploits and glitches.¡± ¡°Entity?¡± Francis asked, ¡°Who the hell is Entity?¡± ¡°Oh, Entity is System''s boss. He''s the guy who created this place. You would probably like him. He tolerates zero bullshit and is fairly easy going for an all powerful being. Or at least, the closest thing we have to one. I''m still holding out to see if my god is real. The jury is still out on that one.¡± The Marine blinked. ¡°You''re religious? How the hell are you religious? You''re practically a death god!¡± ¡°I don''t particularly want to get into a discussion about religion, seeing as people worship both of us. It also tends to piss people off. But you have to remember that faith doesn''t need logic to function. It''s about belief.¡± Wilbur took a long pull from his beer before he continued. ¡°My beliefs from when I was a mortal have stuck with me as I''ve changed and evolved. Nothing I''ve seen has diminished my faith. Quite the opposite, in fact. ¡°I could try and justify it with science. I could talk about the possibility of beings from other dimensions molding out reality like clay. But using science to justify belief is like dragging an ice cream cone through gravel. You fuck them both up.¡± ¡°Huh,¡± Francis said, ¡°I suppose you''re right. But how does that work with the gods we have here?¡± The old man laughed. ¡°That''s not my secret to tell. But you could easily apply logic to that particular puzzle to figure it out for yourself.¡± The Marine found himself frowning. ¡°I''m not good at puzzles. Speaking of which, I''ve got one that I could use some help with.¡± Francis went on to tell Wilbur about Mac¡¯s hint and the situation with the dragon. The old man nodded to himself. ¡°Well, it''s pretty obvious if you''re a bastard like Mac, or an old devil like me. I''ll tell you what, if you can''t figure it out by tomorrow I''ll give you the answer. Fair enough?¡± ¡°Fair enough,¡± Francis agreed, reaching over to clink his beer against Wilbur''s, ¡°Thanks for helping out with all this. I''m out of my fucking depth here with the god and leadership stuff.¡± ¡°Don''t worry about it, you''ll figure it out. That''s the nice thing about this place. As long as nothing kills you, you''ve got all the time in the world.¡± The Marine took a minute to consider Wilbur''s words. Francis had been so busy putting out fires that he had missed something incredibly important about his new situation. He was a god, and gods didn''t age. ¡°Holy shit,¡± he said as it finally dawned on him, ¡°You''re right. I''m fucking immortal!¡± Chapter 15: BOHICA Some of the benefits of living in a world that ran on bullshit video game logic were the System enhanced classes. It took the guesswork out of picking people to advise him. If he needed help with economics, a high level Economist could model scenarios and pick the best one. Likewise, a Teacher or Education Administrator would be able to help with creating a functioning school system. Some people were still greedy assholes, or working for outside interests. But it was way better than how things usually worked on Earth, where the most popular candidate got the position instead of the most qualified one. Apparently Francis¡¯ style of leadership was practically unique. Most rulers in Vahnis didn''t run their kingdoms based on merit. They took a ¡°might is right¡± approach, ruling by royal decree and leaving their administrators to sort out the inevitable mess. That probably explained why political assassinations were so common among the nobility. When rulers refused to listen, a dagger in the back was the next best thing to a talking stick. The Marine sat back in his chair and listened as the counselors discussed various issues. The Best of Brexis had the usual mix of specialists and politicians. But he was particularly proud of his own contribution to the council. Sitting down at the end of the table was a group of normal citizens. There was an old man, a guard, a farmer, a grunt, a small child, a mother, and an idiot. Francis was particularly proud of the idiot. He was worth his weight in gold. Smart people, by the very nature of their intelligence, were bad at thinking like idiots. They had no idea how a person of normal, or lower than average intelligence, would react to their plans. They tended to assume that things were obvious, somehow forgetting that the average citizen had the education of a potato. The small child was great too. She mercilessly poked holes in their logic. Half of the time all it took was a few questions to send an entire plan back to the drawing board. The same went for the grunt and the guard. Any plan or policy that relied solely on the good will of people to work was immediately ridiculed. They once again proved their worth when the Economists and Sociologists had tried to re-invent Communism. Before Francis could step in and tell them how that had turned out back on his world, the guard had spoken up. He explained that it was a nice theory, but people were greedy bastards and it would all end in tears. Rounding out the council¡¯s blindspots were the others. None of the non-council members had a vote. But by pointing out the flaws in a plan or decision out loud, on the record, they forced the council to take responsibility for ignoring their feedback. It wasn''t all sunshine and roses though. The ¡°regular people¡± as they had been dubbed were full of bad advice. They weren''t specialists or high level politicians. But, even their bad feedback was useful sometimes. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. Chuck looked at the farmer with a blank expression. He usually enjoyed his job as Treasurer, but it also meant dealing with a fair share of idiots. ¡°You want to raise tariffs?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± he said smugly, ¡°Why should citizens pay taxes when we can have foreigners foot the bill?¡± The Magical Charger turned Unicorn sighed. ¡°Look, dipshit. Increased tariffs mean that either trade doesn''t flow through here, or that the costs get passed on to the consumer.¡± He waved a hoof and a series of charts appeared in the air, all the figures neatly written out in glitter. ¡°Um, we don''t really do income tax in Brexis. Most of our money comes from rent, and currently the price of grain is being held up by increased demand. ¡°So, if we were to increase tariffs people would end up paying more for food. Your own pockets would get lighter as your own cost of living went up, neatly screwing you out of any increased profit you might make on your crops. That is, assuming we were willing to buy from you instead of outsiders.¡± The Farmer was livid. ¡°You would buy their grain instead of mine?¡± ¡°You bet your ass I would, if it was cheaper and of similar quality. We have a lot of people to feed and a limited budget.¡± Chuck looked over to the guard. ¡°Did you have something to contribute?¡± The man shook his head. ¡°Nah, it''s the same old same old. The skellies keep the adventurers from causing too much trouble. High level or not, nobody wants to get swarmed by undead.¡± Francis completely agreed with that. His stats were absolutely bonkers and even he had zero desire to mess with a swarm of skeletons. System¡¯s rules meant that getting surrounded sucked, no matter how high level you were. He sat back and listened as the talking continued. Leading the council meetings wasn¡¯t his favorite thing in the world, but it was part of his job. The Marine sighed. Goddamn, I wish I could go out and kill something instead of being stuck in here. As if answering his prayers, Francis heard shouting from somewhere outside. The Marine grinned. It was time to get some killing done. *** Paladins were a pain in the ass. What they lacked in utility skills they more than made up for in tankiness and damage. They also tended to go on holy rampages over small ideological differences. In this case, a large brute with a mace was trying to make his way through the palace gardens. ¡°Die! Die you undead filth!¡± the Paladin raged as he chased a golden skeleton. The undead servant was wearing a gardener¡¯s outfit and holding a basket of apples. It had been mid harvest when the Paladin attacked. As a non-combatant, it was geared more towards self preservation than defending the palace. Its creator had left those duties to the swarms of simpler skeletons. They were much cheaper to produce and program. Currently a grinning horde of undead was climbing over the walls to intercept the Paladin. Francis got there first. He was usually fairly laid back as rulers went. Compared to the other deities, Francis was practically benign. But he was also a Marine and a Texan. Someone violating the confines of his home was just asking for a H.E.B. sized can of whoopass to be opened right under their nose. Francis summoned Relativity and took a swing at the Paladin. ¡°Bend over, here it comes!¡± He called out gleefully. Fuck, I almost forgot how much I missed this. Chapter 16: Smack!
NAME Francis Francis Francis the 3rd LEVEL 30 TIER 7 HP 11 / 6300 MP 0 / 6300 STRESS 5 / 30 PRIMARY CLASS Combat Warlock: Pact of the Boom (10) SECONDARY CLASS Celestial Sorcerer: Shotgun Soul (20) HERITAGE Human GENDER Male HEIGHT 2 Meters WEIGHT 150 Kilos RELIGIOUS AFFILIATIONS Murder Cube, The United States Marine Corps, Johnny Cash, Chesty Puller, General Mattis, Betty White, John Moses Browning, The Cult of Francis^3 CURRENT ENEMIES Hades, The Forces of Darkness, Seagulls, HOA¡¯s, PETA, The Entire Middle East. CURRENT ALLIES Murder Cube, The United States Marine Corps, Bartenders, Grunts, Phone Sex Operators, Dogs, Horses, Chuck, Willow, Auldric, Miller, McHorseface, Julia, Shiv, Jack, Relativity, Brick, System DURABLE 30 (Your armor wears you for protection.) INTELLECTUAL 30 (Wait¡­ what? You have got to be joking!) PHYSICAL 30 (Holy shit you¡¯re strong!) SOCIAL 30 (Everyone likes you. But nobody knows why.) SPIRITUAL 30 (The other realm is trying to contact you about your soul¡¯s extended warranty.) ATTACK (MAGICAL) 10 +1 (11) ATTACK (MELEE) 10 +1 (11) ATTACK (RANGED) 10 +1 (11) DEFLECT 10 +1 +3 (14) IMMUNITY (POISON) RESISTANCE (SPIRIT) ARCANE 10 +1 +2 (13) BUSINESS 0 +1 (1) BYPASS 0 +1 (1) CHEMISTRY 0 +1 (1) CONSTRUCT 0 +1 (1) CHIRP 2 +1 (3) CRIME 2 +1 (3) CORRELATE 0 +1 (1) CULINARY 0 +1 (1) DRIVE 0 +1 (1) EDUCATED 2 +1 (3) ENTERTAIN 0 +1 (1) INSTRUCT 1 +1 (2) LANGUAGE (GRUNT) 10 +1 (11) LANGUAGE (VAHNISSIAN COMMON) 2 +1 (3) MECHANICAL 0 +1 (1) MEDICINE 0 +1 (1) NATURE 10 +1 (11) NAVIGATION 0 +1 (1) If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. NECROMANCY 2 +1 +4 (7) OBSERVATION 10 +1 (11) OTHERWORLDER 1 +1 (2) PRECISION 0 +1 (1) RESIST (MENTAL) 10 +1 (11) RESIST (PHYSICAL) 10 +1 (11) STEALTH 0 +1 (1) SWAY 10 +1 +3 (14)
It was generally a bad idea to announce your surprise attack in a serious fight. But Francis wasn''t looking to sucker punch the Paladin and get it over with. They had come to his home, this was personal. The Paladin had a Deflect of ten, which explained how he had managed to fight his way to the palace without being chopped into tiny pieces by the guards. He had prioritized defense over attack, opting to become an almost unhittable juggernaut. And it would have worked out for him too, if Francis hadn''t been there. Relativity¡¯s time as a drill instructor had rubbed off on them because instead of making a fist, the evil artifact straightened out its fingers. A fraction of a second later the Paladin was hit by a knife hand going twice the speed of hate. His helmet caught the worst of it, Relativity¡¯s fingers leaving a corrective action shaped dent in the metal right by his ear. Francis followed up with a backhand, swinging his staff like a baseball bat at the offending Paladin. The man was used to coasting on his Deflect. Unfortunately for him, Francis¡¯ Attack was high enough to auto-succeed. Relativity hit the helmet with the back of its hand and launched it over the wall. ¡°Home run!¡± shouted Francis. He wasn''t critting, but it sure was fun. Something seemed off though. His grunt senses were tingling. ¡°Hey Willow,¡± he messaged over their telepathic link, ¡°Have Hank fire up his new toy.¡± *** Arrayed around the double wall that ringed the palace were a series of platforms. Their original purpose was unknown, but they each contained a magic circle. Someone very clever (and with the proper authority) could use them to tap into the city¡¯s Mana supply. Hank Greenscale, kobold engineer and recovering henchman, was giddy when he got Willow¡¯s message. Things had been much too quiet lately. It was time to reveal his new toy. Francis had tried to curb Hank¡¯s urge to create weapons of mass destruction. But he might as well have asked a dragon to share. Something in the kobold¡¯s soul was compelled to create things that sparked and hummed ominously before vaporizing a nearby hill. Most of Hank¡¯s inventions were not well received, though his automated Paladin slicer was seeing some use in the stockyards. He supposed that humanely killing cows and getting a jump start on the butchering process was useful. It just wasn''t nearly as much fun. It had been too long since Hank saw the look on an intruder¡¯s face as the floor gave way underneath them. He missed that moment of shock when a group of adventurers walked through a seemingly innocent doorway and their healer was vaporized. Or when the healing potions they had found in a storage room and saved for the boss fight turned out to be poison. They said you couldn''t put a price on seeing the hope leave an adventurer''s eyes. But Hank could. At Kobold & Kobold they had a wide range of lair defense packages to suit any need. (And they did mean any need.) Hank dismissed the visions of acid vats and exploding were-chickens to focus on the task at hand. So far they only had one of the devices up and working. But if the test went well, Francis might let him make more. And the kobold desperately wanted to make more. With the pull of a lever his device started to unfold. In its dormant state it looked like a black stone storage building set against the wall. It was inconspicuous and unobtrusive, hardly worth a second look. While Hank did not like the design constraints Francis laid out for him, he had done his best to abide by them. The weapon could not fire into the palace grounds and had an enchantment to prevent friendly fire. The kobold thought this was silly and needlessly cautious. But he had lost a fair number of former employers to doomsday weapon related accidents, so the Marine might have had a point. Hank heard a dull clank as the weapon failed to deploy. The roof was supposed to open up and allow the main body of the device to extend outward. He climbed up into the structure and gave the roof a kick, wondering why it wouldn''t open. *** Demesius, well paid assassin and accidental doorstop, felt the building below him shake. He had picked that particular rooftop because it was up against the wall and would allow him to make a quick getaway. Now he was wondering if that might have been a mistake. He could hear cursing from inside. A few seconds later a small reptilian head popped out of a concealed hatch next to him. Demesius and the kobold locked eyes. ¡°Well¡­ shit,¡± said Hank as he spotted the nasty looking crossbow pointed at his face, ¡°That''s not good.¡± The man put a finger to his lips. ¡°Be quiet, or I''ll have to shoot you.¡± Hank laughed. ¡°You do know that I''m a kobold, right? Dying in defense of an evil overlord is kind of our thing. I''m getting hot just thinking about it.¡± ¡°That''s deeply disturbing,¡± replied the assassin. ¡°Oh, but it''s great,¡± continued Hank with barely contained glee at the man¡¯s discomfort, ¡°I¡¯ll totally get laid if you kill me.¡± ¡°Don''t you mean like, if I miss or something?¡± ¡°No,¡± Hank replied, not bothering to elaborate. ¡°But you''ll be dead,¡± the assassin pointed out, ¡°It''s hard to get laid if you''re dead.¡± The kobold cocked his head to the side. ¡°It''s really not. All you have to do is lay there.¡± Demesius repressed a shudder. ¡°Ok, listen. I''m going to take a shot at your boss. If you try to alert him, or stop me, I''ll shoot you first.¡± ¡°Are you sure I can''t get you to listen to reason? Francis is a pretty cool dude for a deity,¡± Hank said as he stealthily reached for a lever with his foot, ¡°He''s probably way better than whoever you currently work for.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure he''s great, but I have a contract to fulfill. So, I''ll have to decline.¡± Demesius did a quick calculation in his head and decided that killing the kobold first was the optimal play. ¡°But, congrats on the sex.¡± The assassin watched as his crossbow bolt hit some kind of arcane shield and was harmlessly deflected away. The kobold didn''t give him a second chance. Hank disappeared back into the building and slammed the hatch behind him. Demesius wasn''t sure what just happened, but his mission hadn''t changed. He was there to kill Francis and that was that. All he needed now was a clear shot before the guards came. He didn''t give a damn about the Paladin. The man was a pawn, a means to an end. Demesius had wound him up with stories about forbidden rituals and set him loose. Now, that bit of trickery was about to pay off. There was a flash of red light as the Paladin triggered a special ability. Like any good assassin, Demesius knew how to maximize a crit. He took five Stress to activate his own special ability and prepared to shoot. ¡ª Killshot: Take five Stress to double the damage of your next attack and temporarily increase your Attack by five. ¡ª Demesius immediately felt the Stress hit him. It made his arms feel weak but he pushed through it, lining up the shot. Between the Paladin''s special ability, his Killshot, and the enchantment on his crossbow, Francis was in for an unpleasant evening. Then, Demesius felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. There was a disconcerting hum coming from the building beneath him. He tried to run, but the Stress made him sluggish and slow. The last thing Demesius saw was a flash of sickly green light. *** Hank cackled like a madman as he fired R.E.A.S.O.N. into the roof of the building that contained it. The Resonating Electro-Arcane Soul Obliterating Necro-cannon had been designed with Hades in mind, just in case the god of death ever fancied a rematch. The active shielding had stopped Hank from being killed along with the would-be assassin. Thankfully, it worked on crossbow bolts too. He popped his head out of the hatch and blew a raspberry at what remained of Demesius. ¡°I knew you would listen to reason,¡± he said. Chapter 17: Answering Prayers Francis grunted with appreciation as a lance of green light lit up the evening. ¡°Neat, a laser light show!¡± The Paladin was unimpressed. ¡°Foul Necromancer, I will defeat you just as good always defeats evil!¡± The Marine paused. ¡°I''m not actually evil, just so you know.¡± ¡°Hah! A well known trick! You seek to corrupt me, but I am-¡± The Paladin stopped mid sentence as a gigantic skeletal hand clawed its way out of the ground. He glared at the Marine as it wrapped around him. ¡°Hey! That''s cheating!¡± Willow strolled into the garden and gave Francis a peck on the cheek. ¡°I know you''re having fun, but we have dinner plans with Typhon and Echidna in an hour.¡± The Marine let out a sigh. ¡°I completely forgot,¡± he said before turning towards the captured Paladin, ¡°Hey, I hate to cut this short, but duty calls. How about we call it quits and I drop you off in front of your temple on our way to dinner? After all, it''s not like you actually hurt anyone.¡± The Paladin was seething with rage. Not only had they captured him, but now they were dismissing him? ¡°Am I a joke to you?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Francis and Willow said in unison before busting up laughing. The Marine gave his girlfriend a kiss on the forehead before addressing the Paladin. ¡°Look, I''m not even sure why we''re fighting. I smacked you around because you came into my home and started wrecking shit. But I don''t have anything against you specifically.¡± ¡°You are an evil that must be purged!¡± Raged the Paladin from inside his bony prison. ¡°No, he''s a god who must go take a shower or we''re going to be late,¡± clapped back Willow, ¡°Look, I''m trying to be nice. Do you have a friend I can message to come pick you up? Or perhaps a Deity who can miracle you away?¡± The Paladin glared at her. His once pristine armor was dented and dirty but his spirit was unbroken. ¡°I''ll accept no favors from you, bitch.¡± Time seemed to freeze and the world held its breath. For a second, nothing happened. Then, like an iceberg breaking off from a glacier to wreck a luxury cruise liner¡¯s day, Francis slowly turned to face the Paladin. ¡°What the fuck did you just say to my woman, shit dick?¡± *** Wolfie, Not-Wolfie, and Also-Not-Wolfie were hungry (apparently they were as bad at hunting as they were at coming up with names). The druids had prohibited them from eating refugees, and game was scarce. That meant they had to range further and further looking for food. Tonight their journey had brought them to a hill overlooking Brexis. The three Dire Wolves sat and looked at the city longingly. Even at night it was bustling with activity. Wolfie was the first to speak. ¡°I know we''ve talked about it before, but I think we should seriously consider volunteering for domestication.¡± ¡°And we always decide against it because it''s a stupid idea,¡± snapped back Not-Wolfie, ¡°Are you really considering giving up your freedom for a few meals and a place near the fire?¡± Also-Not-Wolfie¡¯s ears perked up at the mention of food. ¡°I would kill for some meat right now, and I don''t care what kind.¡± ¡°See!¡± said Wolfie with a wag of his tail, ¡°He''s on my side. If we trick the humans into accepting us, we''ll never go hungry again. It''s a perfect plan.¡± ¡°What is?¡± asked Also-Not-Wolfie. ¡°Domestication,¡± replied Not-Wolfie, growling out the word like a curse, ¡°He wants us to become dogs.¡± Wolfie raised his paw. ¡°No. I think you''ll find that our ancestors will become dogs.¡± ¡°Descendants,¡± corrected Not-Wolfie, ¡°Our descendants will become dogs.¡± ¡°Oh good,¡± Also-Not-Wolfie said with visible relief, ¡°Mum would be absolutely livid if I got her turned into a dog.¡± ¡°What about your dad?¡± asked Wolfie ¡°Oh, he probably wouldn''t mind. Adventurers killed him last winter.¡± Wolfie shook his head. ¡°What a shame. It''s always so sad when one of our own falls to a fetch quest.¡± ¡°Did you just say ¡®fetch¡¯?¡± asked Also-Not-Wolfie, his ears perking up again, ¡°Because I could absolutely play some fetch.¡± Not-Wolfie buried his head in his paws. ¡°I don''t know why I even bother with you two. It''s like listening to a brick talk to a slightly dumber brick.¡± ¡°Alright,¡± said Wolfie, finally losing his patience, ¡°The best hunting territories are already claimed. Orcs are eating everything across the river. And the druids won''t let us hunt anything that talks. What do you think we should do, oh smart one?¡± ¡°Uh,¡± Not-Wolfie looked around awkwardly as he spoke, ¡°I don''t know.¡± To the surprise of both Dire Wolves, Also-Not-Wolfie had an idea. He raised his paw slowly. ¡°We could pray for food. I see humans do it all the time. It looks way easier than hunting. All they do is put their hands together, and ask for stuff.¡± ¡°And this works?¡± Wolfie asked, intrigued by the prospect but still skeptical, ¡°You''re saying that humans can just ask for things, and they happen?¡± Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. ¡°Oh yeah! I mean, not always. It doesn''t work all the time, otherwise you wouldn''t pray as much,¡± explained Also-Not-Wolfie, ¡°But, I''ve seen it happen.¡± Wolfie and Not-Wolfie shared a look. It seemed harmless enough, and was certainly a less drastic step than domestication. ¡°I know I''m probably going to regret this,¡± said Not-Wolfie, ¡°But I think we should give it a shot.¡± Also-Not-Wolfie tapped his paws on the ground with excitement. ¡°Yes! Awesome! Who should we pray to?¡± ¡°Um¡­ what''s the name of that guy who took over for Zed? He''s a god, right?¡± Not-Wolfie looked around awkwardly as he spoke. Organized religion made him extremely uncomfortable. ¡°I''m assuming that we have to pray to an actual god, right? It would be kind of silly if we put our paws together and asked Joe the Cartwright for some food.¡± ¡°His name is ¡®Francis¡¯,¡± said Also-Not-Wolfie, ¡°I heard one of the Woodcutters saying it as he prayed. He''s the god of monogamy.¡± ¡°The Woodcutter?¡± asked Wolfie. ¡°No, the god,¡± corrected Not-Wolfie, ¡°But I''m a bit worried about getting involved with religion. I hear they have all kinds of rules.¡± Wolfie rolled his eyes. ¡°He''s the god of monogamy and we''re Dire Wolves. I think we will be fine, we already mate for life.¡± ¡°I don''t,¡± said Not-Wolfie, ¡°Unlike some people, I like to keep my options open.¡± ¡°You would have to,¡± Wolfie shot back, ¡°I can''t imagine that your long term prospects are exactly great.¡± After one brief scuffle (and much arguing) the three Dire Wolves managed to come up with a plan. Also-Not-Wolfie would lead them in prayer since he was the expert. And if it didn''t work, or went horribly wrong, they would blame him. Also-Not-Wolfie sat on his haunches and put his paws together. The Dire Wolf was new to religion, so he decided to recite the prayer exactly as he had heard it from the Woodcutter. He cleared his throat and began to speak, hoping to give the sacred words their proper reverence. ¡°Motherfucker, I know you''re listening¡­¡± *** Francis¡¯ nose twitched. The Marine adjusted his stance slightly as he made another practice swing with Relativity. He didn''t know why, but the tingling somewhere near his balls meant that god stuff was happening, so he decided to go with it. The Paladin had already been beaten to shit and was currently being pulped even further by a pair of skeletal hands. Over by the wall, Hank was attaching thick cables to a device that looked like the bastard offspring of a wheeled cannon, several gas stations worth of questionable cutlery, and a satellite dish. The kobold cackled as he made sure the runes were aligned. Hank had pulled out all the stops for this one. Nobody insulted his friend Willow and got away with it. ¡°She¡¯s ready to go, Boss! Not only will this thing kill, it''ll hurt the entire time it''s doing it!¡± The skeletal hands stopped pummeling the Paladin and held him still. ¡°Is that all you''ve got?¡± he asked. ¡°Nope,¡± replied Francis as he activated one of his Combat Warlock abilities.
Kinetic Strike: Take one Stress to replace damage with distance. For each point of damage your next attack would do, move your target one meter instead. Only works on targets your size or smaller.
Normally Relativity tried to stay neutral, but the evil ancient artifact hated Paladins with a passion. As Francis¡¯ swing connected, it had a bit more energy behind it than he was expecting.
Guardian¡¯s Wrath: Do an extra five damage per MP spent. Only available to a Guardian within their Domain.
Over by one of the hedges, System shook his head. Someone was going to need to do some math, but it wasn''t going to be him. *** If a Paladin insults the High Priestess of a god, how dead are they? Entity pondered this question as he stepped in for System. Obviously, they would not survive the encounter, but the damage still needed to be assigned. System was programmed to think that he was the lone arbiter and decision maker. He had no idea that Entity would step in whenever there was an issue above his access level, or sometimes even overrule his decisions. Entity had learned long ago that illusions of importance and control were necessary to keep System on track. Otherwise, they tended to break down or wander off. If the various iterations of System had been beings of pure logic like they thought they were, the lie would have been unnecessary. They would have also spotted the deception immediately. There was no way Entity would leave the helm unattended, even for the? briefest of moments. Technically, System wasn''t wrong about one thing. His absence could lead to disaster for Vahnis. System was programmed with a bias towards order and stability in his decision making. Entity, on the other hand, liked to shake things up. Starting a new Age of Calamity was a good way to pass the time, as far as Entity was concerned. He had his own goals and objectives that System wasn''t privy to. Sometimes he even did things for the pure entertainment value. That brought him back to the unfortunate Paladin who was about to be launched into the stratosphere. System would have used a formula to calculate how Willow¡¯s assist with her skeletal hands lowered the Paladin''s Deflect, allowing Francis to get a critical hit. Entity went more by vibes. It was inevitably going to be much more damage than the hundred HP or so the Paladin had remaining. So, why bother doing the math? Why waste the processing power? He assigned a flat ten thousand points of damage and let the world sort itself out. *** Also-Not-Wolfie was getting anxious. His second prayer was coming to an end and nothing had happened yet. The other Dire Wolves were giving him sideways glances and grumbling under their breath. ¡°... and so Francis said, ¡®I don''t have time for that shit, hand me a Javelin.¡¯ To which they replied, ¡®But sir, it''s only a man on a moped.¡¯¡± Not-Wolfie rolled his eyes, ¡°It sure does go on a bit, doesn''t it?¡± Also-Not-Wolfie ignored him and continued the prayer. ¡°However, the Marine gave no fucks about operational costs and didn''t want to lug that shit back to base¡­¡± Wolfie was curious to hear what happened to the man on the moped, whatever that was. But, he was also noticing a certain flaw in his pack mates¡¯ execution. ¡°I think you have to ask for something,¡± he said. ¡°What, like an entire Paladin, perfectly cooked, served on a platter so it doesn''t get dirty?¡± asked Not-Wolfie. ¡°Ooh! Yeah!¡± Also-Not-Wolfie tapped his paws on the ground with excitement. ¡°That sounds wonderful! Francis, if you''re listening, that''s what we want.¡± Before Not-Wolfie could make a snide comment, there was a loud crash as something vaguely Paladin shaped crashed through the trees. Wolfie ran over to check it out while the other two waited. A few seconds later he reappeared. ¡°Guys, you aren''t going to believe this¡­¡± *** Back in Brexis, Francis rubbed his head as he got a System message. It was congratulating him on his new followers. ¡°Who the fuck names their kids Wolfie, Not-Wolfie, and Also-Not-Wolfie?¡± he asked. Chapter 18: Decision Making After dinner, Francis sat down with Willow to go over the messages from his friend in the capital. There was a treasure trove of information. Unfortunately, it was too late to act on most of it. ¡°I have got to check my mail more often,¡± the Marine said as he became aware of yet another lost opportunity, ¡°This is worse than the time I missed out on that free copy of Sports Illustrated. It was the swimsuit edition too.¡± ¡°What''s a swimsuit?¡± asked Willow, propping her head up on her palms. They had moved to the bedroom as the night went on. ¡°It''s clothing that you wear into the water,¡± Francis explained, ¡°I sincerely hope that it never catches on here.¡± ¡°Agreed. Wearing clothes while swimming seems dangerous.¡± The Death Cleric leaned over and retrieved the stone tablet with the rest of Francis¡¯ messages. ¡°This is interesting. It''s buried in the text of a report about timber prices. It seems that the orcs are mobilizing.¡± ¡°Is that good for us, or bad for us?¡± She looked up at him with her big green eyes. ¡°I''m not sure. It depends on where they''re headed. Usually the orcs tend to fight each other and leave everyone else alone. But they''ve sacked the capital once or twice.¡± Willow lay back on the bed, trying to remember details from one of her previous reincarnations. She looked to be a faun in her twenties, but the Death Cleric had centuries of experience to draw on. ¡°Yeah, it was about two hundred years ago. They cut through the Dark Forest and took the Silver River downstream to the capital. By the time people realized what they were up to, it was too late.¡± He wasn''t the sharpest crayon in the box, but Francis understood historical precedents. What had happened once could happen again. ¡°I''ll ask our woodland friends if they know anything about orcs in places they shouldn''t be.¡± ¡°Yeah, and I''ve got a meeting with the delegation from the Western Wilds. I''ll see what they know.¡± Willow carefully set the tablet aside. ¡°Now, let me give you your reward for dealing with that asshole Paladin.¡± ¡°Hot damn!¡± Francis said as Willow slipped out of her robes. He must have seen her naked a thousand times. But even if he saw her naked a million more, Francis didn''t think he would ever get tired of that view. *** Gradually over the next few days a picture came together. Orcs were headed south into the Dark Forest for some unknown purpose. The general assumption was that they would fell trees to create log rafts, and ride them down the Silver River to the capital. ¡°I''m surprised that the Dark Forest would allow this,¡± said Chuck, ¡°Historically it has been practically homicidal towards anyone dumb enough to operate within its borders.¡± The large possum known as Evandrel nodded. ¡°Usually, yes. But apparently the forest is deciding to play nice with the orcs for now.¡± ¡°What are they like?¡± Francis asked. Evandrel gave him an exhausted look. ¡°Orcs? In a word, complicated. They''ve got a very complex social structure with more dukes and lords than you can shake a stick at. Historically they were into sea trade and colonization, but the ass fell out of that when the natives rebelled.¡± The possum rocked back and forth in his chair as he tried to find the words. ¡°Imagine for a second that you have the most violent, but also the most happy person you''ve ever met.¡± Chuck sent one of his famous side eyes Francis¡¯ way. ¡°I''m sure I can imagine that. Please, go on.¡± ¡°Well, now add in a stratified class structure and a bunch of inbred royals and you''ve got orcs. Or rather, we have orcs. The happy bastards are eating everything in the Dark Forest they can catch.¡± ¡°You''re right,¡± Francis said as he leaned forward in his chair, ¡°We have orcs.¡± Evandrel slowly nodded as he got the meaning behind the message. ¡°Yes, we do. Now, how are we going to get rid of them?¡± *** Willow¡¯s meeting with the delegation from the Western Wilds also proved fruitful. They were aware of the situation and very much in favor of letting the orcs rampage. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Political relations between the awakened and the human kingdoms are not good,¡± she explained. ¡°Oh,¡± said Chuck as he helped himself to a bucket of beer, ¡°It must be that pesky thing about them not considering us people. We can get a little touchy about that. Nobody knows why.¡± ¡°Well, politics aside,¡± Francis said as he grabbed his own mug of beer, ¡°I''m not in favor of letting a bunch of orcs pillage their way down the river. Thousands of people are going to die, and I can''t imagine it will make getting Brexis back on track any easier.¡± ¡°I would raise a counterpoint,¡± Mac purred as they got into Francis¡¯ lap, ¡°The world you come from is different than this one. There is another resource that fighting the orcs will provide. Something that can''t be bought.¡± The Marine took a second, but he got there eventually. ¡°You''re talking about experience.¡± ¡°Yes. That''s the downside of having a gigantic horde of skeletons to do everything for you,¡± the demonic cat gave a toothy little grin, ¡°Brexis was powerful in its heyday, but with a few exceptions its people were under-leveled. They didn''t have many chances, or reasons, to grind experience.¡± Francis digested this information. ¡°Good to know. But, why hasn''t the king done anything about the orcs?¡± There was a long pause as Willow set down her beer. ¡°It''s complicated,¡± she said, ¡°The king is in charge, but he really only runs his own city. The other lords bend the knee and send some taxes his way. But, if he wanted to raise an army to go after the orcs, that would require some political maneuvering.¡± ¡°It''s not really a kingdom,¡± Evandrel chimed in, ¡°It''s more like sixteen lords in a cloak, pretending to get along. Even if he did raise an army to meet the orcs, it would probably destroy him.¡± Willow nodded. ¡°That''s what happened the last time orcs attacked. The king drove them off, but it also cost him the throne. The lords had him executed and replaced with one of their own.¡± ¡°Kinda like the Japanese and the Mongols,¡± Francis mused, proud of himself for remembering the historical tidbit from his old world, ¡°They defeated the horde, but the samurai threw a fit because there wasn''t any treasure. I think they rebelled after that.¡± ¡°What''s a samurai?¡± Chuck asked, looking up from his bucket of beer. ¡°They''re basically knights from my world, just somehow more honor-bound and less fun at parties,¡± Francis explained. ¡°So, like a Paladin?¡± Willow asked. She was always trying to find out more about where he came from. ¡°No, but also yeah. It''s complicated.¡± The Marine sat back in his chair and tried to think. The military had spent a lot of money on his education, poor as it was. But somehow, some of it had managed to stick. The orcs needed to be persuaded to leave the Dark Forest before they ate everything. Forcing them to start their attack early would leave the orcs vulnerable as they traveled down the river. They would have to either overload their boats, or leave some of their forces behind. Brexis itself would not be threatened by such a blunt instrument. Attacking a necromancer stronghold with overwhelming numbers was incredibly stupid. The fallen orcs would be added to Brexis'' undead army, strengthening their defenses with each wave. They could sit back and destroy any orcs that traveled downriver, allowing his people to grind experience. He wondered how many levels a Baker would get from flattening an orc captain with a trebuchet. It would probably be a good way for them to level up their new Clerics too, now that he thought about it. Mac looked up at the Marine. ¡°I take it that you aren''t petting me because you are deep in thought and lack the ability to multitask. But, perhaps there is another factor to consider,¡± the demonic cat said with a yawn. ¡°The orcs lack the equipment necessary to crack the capital¡¯s defenses. They have brute force and numbers, but no siege weapons. The King will hole up behind his walls with all his friends while the outer city and countryside burn.¡± Mac looked around mischievously. ¡°It just so happens that Brexis used to produce some of the finest siege weapons in all of Vahnis. I''m sure that the orcs would pay quite a lot of money for such weapons.¡± Francis didn''t dismiss the idea out of hand. He had no issues with the kingdom of Grumble¡­ yet. But the Marine could see that quickly changing. Brexis was an independent city-state within the borders of a much bigger country. If things got bad for the kingdom of Grumble, the lords would look towards Brexis with greedy eyes. War against a common foe was always good for national unity. Arming the orcs was a revenue positive way to wage a proxy war with the kingdom. Francis would have to confirm his suspicions, but he suspected that at least one other group was acting along similar lines. The delegation from the Western Wilds were in favor of letting the orcs attack the capital unimpeded. They might even have had a role in kicking things off in the first place, assuming someone didn''t beat them to the punch. Francis absentmindedly pet his familiar as he thought things through. The way he saw it, they had three options when it came to the orcs. They could attack, ignore, or aid. The Marine¡¯s gut reaction was to kill them all. That would prevent civilian casualties and net his people a bunch of levels. Letting the orcs pass by unimpeded would weaken the kingdom while providing a level of plausible deniability. Depending on how that went, it might even buy Brexis a few years of peace while the kingdom rebuilt. The third option was high risk, high reward. The kingdom of Grumble had Brexis almost completely surrounded. If the local lords were unified in their decision to destroy the city, they could do it. Once food and trade stopped flowing through Brexis, it would die out again. However, if the kingdom fractured, Brexis would be too big for any one Lord to take on. And that was assuming no outside forces decided to take advantage of the situation. It wouldn''t be hard for the elves or the awakened to claim new territory in all the chaos. Francis set Mac aside and stood up. ¡°I think I need to clear my head. I''ll probably be back in time to lead service at the temple. But if I''m not there, feel free to start without me.¡± Then, without any further explanation, the Marine walked out towards the garden. He had some thinking to do. Chapter 19: Warmind Taking a walk always worked wonders for Francis¡¯ mental wellbeing. Getting some fresh air and clearing his head (or removing someone else¡¯s) was a good way to gain some perspective. The moral solution to the orc problem was obvious. Killing them all before they could raid the capital seemed like the right thing to do. Unfortunately for Francis, he had fought in enough wars to know that things were rarely so simple. From what he understood, the kingdom of Grumble had a history of invading or otherwise pissing off their neighbors. When things were going well, they went to war. When things were going badly, they went to war as well (usually with each other). It was more or less their default setting. Currently the lords in charge were taxing and tariffing the hell out of all trade in the region. Francis knew that it was only a matter of time before they began waging economic warfare on his city. That was assuming they hadn''t already started. There were rumblings of big tariffs headed their way as well as a plan to rebuild Olympia. Both would hurt Brexis, which would in turn make things harder for his people. Francis couldn''t allow that. He had promised to resurrect Brexis and protect those under his care. That meant the Marine was obligated to consider every option before making a decision. He couldn''t charge headfirst into a fight, or avoid one, without considering how it might affect his people. Technically Francis was an officer, and worse yet, a high ranking one. He would have preferred to be just another grunt, doing grunt things with great enthusiasm. Instead he was deciding which nation to go to war with and considering the consequences of his actions. The Marine didn''t enjoy the added responsibility. Usually he had other people to deal with the consequences of his actions, like the brass or the UN. Francis had always assumed that if he ever truly screwed up, he would be too dead to care. Apparently he was in charge now, and as much as it sucked, he was still going to do his duty. But the Marine didn''t have to do it alone, or on an empty stomach. Francis flagged down a guard who was on patrol. His feet had taken him most of the way down the mountain while his brain was otherwise occupied. ¡°Hey, do we have any orcish restaurants here in Brexis?¡± The rotund guard was happy to help. ¡°Oh, yes. We have quite a few actually. Were you wanting something more simple, or was it fine dining you were after?¡± ¡°Orcs have fine dining?¡± Francis asked. ¡°Yes. They''re quite known for it, in fact,¡± the guard informed him, ¡°Of course, most of the staff at those establishments are humans or elves. Apparently there is no greater sign of orcish culinary genius than farming out all the heavy lifting to others.¡± There was a slight hint of humor in the overweight guard¡¯s face, but no obvious malice. ¡°Personally, I prefer the other kind of orcish establishment. They have good beer, and the food may be bland, but at least it''s cheap and hearty. Things can get a bit rough when there is a tournament though. You have to watch out for that.¡± ¡°Tournament?¡± Francis asked, ¡°Like a sporting event?¡± The guard shuddered. ¡°Don''t ask. It''s practically a national pastime for them. They tend to get a bit over excited when one is going on, but it usually dies down quickly afterwards.¡± This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. ¡°Noted,¡± said the Marine, ¡°I don''t suppose I could persuade you to show me the way to one of these orcish restaurants. It would be my treat.¡± The man nodded to himself as he considered it. ¡°Well, things are quiet enough, as per usual. I don''t think old Sir Auldric would mind if I escorted the big boss around the city for a bit. My name is Chance, by the way.¡± The Marine stuck out his hand. ¡°I''m pleased to meet you, Chance. My name is Francis.¡± *** They stood in front of what looked like a pub, but had the longest name Francis had ever seen. ¡°I wonder if they spent more money on wood, or paint?¡± Chance chuckled. ¡°It''s an orcish tradition. Names are important to them.¡± ¡°It''s still a bit long,¡± Francis pointed out. He preferred bars and restaurants with simple names, like ¡°The Pit¡± or ¡°The Zoo¡±. ¡°Everyone just calls it ¡®The Toe¡¯. There''s no reason to say the whole thing out loud. That would be silly,¡± Chance said as he led the way inside. The King¡¯s Second Cousin¡¯s Brother¡¯s Son¡¯s Distal Phalanx (otherwise known as ¡°The Toe¡±) was a cozy establishment. There were plenty of open tables and an orc wearing suspenders standing behind the bar. Orcs, as Francis had learned, came in all shapes and sizes. Their green pigmentation was apparently the result of some kind of dye, which had an unknown cultural significance. He didn''t think too much about it. Everyone had their quirks. The orc behind the bar was tall, with broad shoulders. He stood somewhere between ¡°fuck off big¡± and ridiculous. Francis wasn''t sure what level the orcish bartender was, but he couldn''t imagine that it was below ten. The Marine also spotted what he recognized as a military bearing. ¡°Welcome gentlemen,¡± the bartender said in a curiously soft voice, ¡°What will you be having today?¡± ¡°Just the usual, Neil. Two meat pies and a liter of whatever is good.¡± Chance tried to pay, but Francis beat him to it. ¡°I''ll have the same,¡± the Marine said, ¡°My name is Francis, by the way.¡± Neil gave the god a nod as he handed over their beers. ¡°Yes, I thought it was you. I''m flattered to have the patriarch of our new home visiting my humble establishment.¡± ¡°Either that, or you''re pissing yourself because this is a front,¡± Francis replied as he took a sip, ¡°We used to do the same thing in my world. You make good beer. But your posture and how you hold yourself is a dead giveaway.¡± The momentarily bartender froze. ¡°Ah, I see. And would this be a friendly visit?¡± ¡°Extremely,¡± Francis assured him, ¡°We¡¯re going to drink our beers, eat our pies, and by the time we¡¯re finished you''re going to have one of your bosses come sit down with us.¡± To his credit, the orc didn''t fuck around or pretend to be innocent. Francis could admire that in a person. Straightforward was usually the way to his heart. ¡°Well, that could be arranged,¡± Neil said, ¡°I suppose we could call it a ¡®diplomatic back channel¡¯ or something of the like. Give me a few minutes to get your pies and I''ll go ring Mary to let her know you''re here.¡± Chance turned to face Francis once the orc was gone. His expression was priceless. ¡°How in the twelve hells did you know that this was a front?¡± The Marine laughed. ¡°I can spot an old soldier from one and a half kilometers away, and they fucked up on the beer.¡± ¡°It tastes fine to me,¡± Chance said as he took another sip, ¡°What''s wrong with it?¡± ¡°It''s too cheap. Most beer in Brexis is two for a silver. This stuff is imported. But it''s still the same price, and they certainly aren''t making their money back on the pies.¡± Francis knew they were listening in, but he didn''t care. The Marine made a mental note to go have a talk with Sir Auldric later. They needed to keep an eye out for any orcish pubs that immediately raised their prices. A little while later Neil returned with their meat pies. Chance hesitated, but Francis wasn''t worried about being poisoned. His gear made him immune, and it would be stupid of them to pass up an opportunity to talk. They could always try to kill him later if things didn''t go well. He did make sure to send a mental message to Willow with an update on what was going on. Francis might act a bit reckless from time to time, but he wasn''t stupid. Chapter 20: Big Mary After the pies were finished Francis was waved into the back. A short orcish woman wearing a red bandana was painstakingly rolling out pie crusts. ¡°I''m Big Mary,¡± she said, ¡°Apparently we weren''t as well hidden as we thought. Who knew that Brexis had a capable anti-espionage unit?¡± Francis ignored the irony of Big Mary¡¯s name. For all he knew it was a deliberate choice to prevent her from being identified. ¡°Look, I¡¯m Francis and I have next to zero patience for all this spook shit. Half the time it turns out that the person running the show is trying to line their own pockets.¡± Big Mary looked him up and down. ¡°Not just a pretty face then, apparently you have some brains to go with the looks.¡± She flashed him a smile, showing sharpened lower and upper canines. ¡°I like you, Francis. Tell me, what do you know about orcs?¡± ¡°Basically nothing,¡± Francis admitted, ¡°I know that a bunch of your people do mercenary work and orcs used to be big into sea trade. Other than that, not much.¡± She put the finished pie crusts into the chiller and started cleaning up. ¡°Well, at least you didn''t say that we eat our young,¡± Mary said with a sigh, ¡°Orcish society is complicated. Those who don''t fit in tend to wander and take up mercenary work. Those who do almost never leave. ¡°The Orcish Isles are home to a bunch of different groups that all hate each other, and an aging aristocracy that is so inbred that they''re starting to grow extra teeth. We still engage in a fair bit of sea trade, but it''s not as profitable as it once was. Now the nobles are calling for war, and they can be quite loud when they want to be.¡± Francis shrugged. ¡°It sounds like someone is looking to shake things up by raiding their neighbors.¡± ¡°Apparently,¡± Mary said as she removed her flour covered apron, revealing a simple floral print dress underneath, ¡°The crown is running out of money and some foreign interests have decided to finance the campaign. Make of that what you will, but Grumble has apparently made some powerful enemies.¡± ¡°Fascinating, so it''s a proxy war. And what do our furry friends get from screwing over Grumble?¡± Francis asked. ¡°I never said that it was the Western Wilds,¡± Mary pointed out. The Marine shook his head. ¡°Ok, what would they get, if they were the ones backing this?¡± ¡°Hypothetically speaking? Time and breathing room. As populations increase, the humans have been pushing deeper into their territory. The awakened can''t keep retreating, so who could blame them for finding alternative ways to fight back?¡± The orcish woman sighed again. ¡°The fact of the matter is that humans are a dying breed. Unless they expand aggressively and throw out anyone who looks different than them, they''re screwed in the long term.¡± ¡°How do you figure that?¡± Francis asked, ¡°I may be biased, but humanity seems to be doing just fine.¡± You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. Mary fixed him with a piercing look. ¡°Yeah, it seems that way in Grumble. But elsewhere, they''re few and far between. That''s the problem with Heritage. If a human fucks a faun their offspring isn''t human, it''s a faun. My mother was an orc, but my father was a human. Give it a few generations and you can see where that leads.¡± Something about Mary¡¯s words didn''t sit right with Francis. ¡°If that''s the case, why do humans exist at all? Why haven''t they gone extinct?¡± Mary smiled, showing her distinctive orcish double fangs. ¡°That''s what we call the Xanthian Paradox. It''s a bit of a mystery, to be honest. Some think it''s because humans were some of the first people to settle this world. Others think it''s something to do with System bias. But nobody knows for sure.¡± Francis took a few seconds to process her words. ¡°You''ve given me a lot to think about. I''ll be in touch.¡± ¡°Stop by anytime,¡± Mary said, ¡°You know how to reach me.¡± *** System was waiting for Francis when he returned to the palace. The Marine gave him an annoyed look. ¡°I don''t really have time for this.¡± ¡°My situation may not be an immediate threat, but I don''t want you to forget about it,¡± System said, ¡°With every day I''m gone we''re one step closer to disaster.¡± Francis was not happy. Hearing that his people were basically doomed could have that effect on a person. ¡°Ok, then maybe you can pull your weight for once. What the fuck is the ¡®Xanthian Paradox¡¯?¡± There was a brief pause before System answered. ¡°Oh, I get why you''re in such a bad mood now. The Xanthian Paradox points out that between the survival of the fittest, and their tendency to hybridize, pure humans should not exist. It''s a popular question among the non-humans.¡± ¡°But are we really dying out? Are we going extinct?¡± Francis pressed. ¡°Yes, and no. There are certain factors at work that I can''t go into detail about, but human dominance in this region is in decline.¡± System did some mental math, ¡°It should end in the next two hundred years, give or take. But I can''t imagine that humans will go extinct. The boss is much too sentimental for that.¡± Francis once again found himself out of his depth. ¡°Hold that though,¡± the Marine said as he turned around and headed back towards the city. He needed to go on another walk. *** Wilbur waved as Francis approached his cart. ¡°What can I get for you?¡± the semi-retired death god asked. ¡°Tell me about the ''Xanthian Paradox'',¡± Francis said. ¡°Ah, that. It''s complete bullshit,¡± Wilbur said before he went back to grilling sausages. ¡°Really? Because System seems to think it''s real.¡± Francis pointed out. The old man laughed. ¡°That''s because System, for all his intelligence and processing power, is an idiot. He doesn''t know what he doesn''t know, and is blissfully unaware of his own blindspots.¡± ¡°Really?¡± Francis asked. ¡°Yeah, really. It''s not a paradox. Humans were part of the first wave, most of the gods are former humans, and so are the vast majority of the champions. Mankind is here because someone brought them here. Unless something drastic changes, humans aren''t going anywhere.¡± The old man grinned. ¡°Besides, this is magical bullshit land. Vahnis and the beings who control it play by their own rules. So, don''t worry about it. Humanity is doing just fine.¡± The Marine ran Wilbur''s words through his bullshit filter and found that they made sense. ¡°Thanks,¡± he said, ¡°I feel a lot better now.¡± ¡°Anytime,¡± Wilbur replied. Chapter 21: The Way Forward As if by magic, the delegation from the kingdom of Grumble showed up the next day. Francis suspected that either his organization, or one of the other groups involved, had sprung a leak. He would have to ask Miller (or rather Graybeard) to look into it. Things did not get off to a good start. Ambassador Rhinos began by insulting Willow and insisting that he would only deal with Francis directly. After that, he immediately tried to strongarm them into joining the kingdom. Within the first ten minutes of talking with the scrawny man, Francis found himself wondering if the Ambassador was trying to start a war. Five minutes later, he knew for sure that they were. Either that, or the man was truly incompetent. In a way, it made sense. The kingdom needed an enemy to fight, and Brexis was conveniently close by. The fact that the city was associated with Necromancy was just the cherry on top. It didn''t matter that a war with Brexis would almost inevitably cost them more than leaving the city alone. The more the man talked, the more Francis found himself siding with the orcs. At least their plan was well thought out, and achievable. The Ambassador, on the other hand, seemed almost delusional. The Marine had assumed that Lord Kelvin was an outlier, a random beacon of greed and incompetence. After talking with the Ambassador, Francis suspected that the whole kingdom was equally rotten. Or at least, that the lords and politicians were. Francis¡¯ thoughts wandered as the Ambassador blabbered on about ancestral territories and back taxes. Prior to his visit, the Marine had been leaning towards remaining neutral and letting the two factions duke it out. Now the only thing stopping him from setting the capital on fire himself was the fact that innocent civilians lived there. He wondered if Hank had some kind of bomb that only affected rich landowners and politicians. Francis knew that the kobold would at least be willing to try, though finding targets to test it out on could be problematic. The Marine decided to save that idea for later. Noticing Francis¡¯ glazed expression, the Ambassador snapped his thin fingers. ¡°Are you even paying attention?¡± he asked. ¡°No,¡± the Marine replied. *** The core trio met in secret below the palace. Francis had chosen a way forward. Despite the disastrous visit from the Ambassador, it had been Chuck that solidified the decision for him. In the kingdom of Grumble, Chuck wasn''t legally considered a person. Awakened beasts had no legal rights there, and the other non-humans weren''t much better off. Unless someone was rich, or a member of the Adventure Guild, the most they could hope for was to be left alone. Even if Chuck wasn''t his friend, there were other reasons why equality was important. According to the Immortal Revenant Service, a full third of Brexis'' residents were non-humans. He couldn''t ally himself with a nation that treated his people like shit. ¡°I''ve decided that Brexis will remain neutral, assuming that nothing major changes,¡± Francis said. Chuck had some questions. As their Treasurer he was obligated to try and make an extra buck whenever possible. ¡°What about selling equipment? I''d hate to lose out on experience and money. It''s like getting the worst of both worlds.¡± Willow held up her hand. ¡°I may have a way around that. The delegation from the Western Wilds had expressed an interest in purchasing boats and siege weapons. We won''t give them to the orcs directly, but nobody can fault us for selling equipment to a third party.¡± Francis was still uneasy about selling weapons he knew would be used on civilians. But if push came to shove, he would do it. ¡°Let''s stick with the boats for now. That should get the orcs up north out of Evandrel''s hair.¡±This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°Oh, I can live with that,¡± Chuck said, ¡°We have more than enough timber from Stompy¡¯s rampage, and the facilities to process it.¡± ¡°Plus, it will create jobs and let us set coins aside for the future,¡± Willow added, ¡°I''ve been doing some digging and asking around the other temples. It looks like Grumble is fucked, no matter what we do. There is some kind of divine war brewing and the kingdom is going to be smack dab in the middle of it.¡± The Marine felt something click in his head. ¡°So, Hades'' tiff with Zeus wasn''t a one off.¡± ¡°Exactly,¡± the Death Cleric confirmed, ¡°Every few hundred years the gods duke it out to divide up territory and see whose cock is the biggest. Fighting through champions limits the damage, but a few cities usually get destroyed.¡± ¡°That doesn''t sound good for us,¡± Chuck pointed out. Willow made a face. ¡°It is, and it isn''t. Nobody wants to screw with the Memetic Pantheon because we punch above our weight, and the other gods like Swan tend to be extremely vindictive. No god wants their city to have a ¡®happy little accident¡¯ because they pissed off some dude with a paintbrush.¡± Francis neglected to mention that Willow also had a reputation for killing gods that crossed her. Even if they managed to take her out, Willow would make it her mission in life to destroy them when she reincarnated. The Death Cleric only had to get lucky once, her targets needed to keep their guard up for the rest of time. He rubbed her shoulder affectionately. ¡°You''re pretty sexy, for a nuclear deterrent.¡± The Death Cleric gave him a look of confusion. ¡°Uh, thanks?¡± *** Once the others were gone, Francis pulled Hank aside. The kobold had warded the room against scrying and stood watch outside while they talked. Now, it was time for Hank to get his orders. The Marine gave Hank a long look. ¡°I¡¯ve got a gut feeling that Grumble is going to do something stupid. That''s why I need you to get started on a secret project for me.¡± The kobold stood ramrod straight. ¡°Oh? What kind of project?¡± ¡°The kind that goes boom,¡± Francis said, ¡°If the idiots downriver try to fuck with us I want to be in a position to strike back. Or at least, to supply the orcs so they can do it for us.¡± Hank tried to play it cool. But he was practically salivating at the chance to make some weapons of mass destruction. ¡°Yeah, I''m pretty sure I can do that.¡± ¡°Good. Hopefully we won''t have to use them. But it''s better to have them and not need them, than to need them and not have them.¡± The Marine let out a sigh. ¡°You''re going to go totally overboard, aren''t you?¡± ¡°Of course not,¡± the kobold lied, schematics already multiplying in his twisted little brain, ¡°Why would you even say such a thing?¡± *** King Laurence of Grumble had never been one to waste points on mental stats. So far, it had worked out wonderfully for him. While the rulers of the neighboring kingdoms dropped like flies, Laurence had enjoyed decades of job security. The closest he had come to danger was when an assassin stabbed him by accident. The man had apologized profusely and given Laurence an antidote. If the guards hadn''t cut the intruder to pieces, he probably would have died from embarrassment. Apparently there had been a mix-up because both men had red hair and were sleeping with the queen. Over at the big table the lords were arguing. Laurence tried to ignore them as he worked on a particularly complicated wooden puzzle. It had taken him six months, but he was almost finished. (Which he viewed as quite the triumph, considering that the box had given a range of two to four years.) Laurence was joined by his wife a little later in the evening. ¡°Have you seen my son?¡± he asked. She shook her head. ¡°Mason is still missing, but I''m sure he''ll turn up eventually. Nobody has tried to ransom him lately, not since the incident.¡± ¡°What a shame. We could have used the extra money,¡± the King said with a shake of his head. The last group of kidnappers had gotten so desperate that they ended up paying Laurence to take the prince back. They were still paying off the loan. But according to the kidnappers, it was absolutely worth it. A low rumble of thunder distracted the King from his reverie. He looked up to see a tall, pale man in a black robe standing over him. Laurence couldn''t quite place the figure, but he knew they were important. Perhaps this was the new pastry chef his wife has been talking about? Hades gave a short bow. ¡°Hello, King Laurence.¡± Chapter 22: A Holy Trinity After the wagon dropped them off near Riverlark, the pilgrims continued down the road on foot. The newest members of their group grumbled, but the Monk in charge kept them moving. Father Dip was a New Franciscan quartered out of a monastery in Brexis, and had little patience for laziness. He was also eager to see how his latest batch of beer was maturing, which might have explained his haste. His order had chosen brewing beer, cultivating tobacco, and roasting coffee as signs of their devotion to Francis. The deity in question had even come by to sample their offerings, declaring them to be ¡°mighty fine¡±. Francis had spent the next few days with the monks, helping them nail down the trickier bits of their new belief system. There had been some debate about whether throat punches were to be classified as holy martial techniques, or merely a good way to stop annoying people from talking. Francis had enlightened them with the true answer. A throat punch was both divine and useful (as were the sacred sack tap, the oil check, and the holy headbutt). The New Franciscans took Francis¡¯ visitation as a sign that they had done the right thing by coming to Brexis. It was rare in Vahniss for a god to interact with their followers directly, much less offer high praise for simple offerings like beer, coffee, and tobacco. Their previous patron deity had charged a thousand gold for a brief visit, paid in advance. Francis was also, when you got right down to it, a lot more fun to be around. Father Dip looked back at his charges with a mix of pride and sadness. He knew that many of them were not true believers. Most of his temporary flock were displaced peasants looking for a new life. Swearing temporary fealty to a god in exchange for safe passage to Brexis must have seemed like a good deal to them, beaten down and tired as they were. Still, he couldn¡¯t help but feel proud of them. They had made the journey. They had chosen to brave the wolves and brigands to find a better life for themselves. Dip thought that had to count for something. Perhaps he might even see a few of them in the coming weeks once they were settled. Dip certainly hoped so. He wandered to the back of the group where one of the younger pilgrims was struggling. ¡°Imogen, why are you limping?¡± The young woman gave him a look he couldn¡¯t decipher. ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± she grunted, forcing herself to keep walking. Father Dip raised his hand and called for the group to stop. His voice rang out across the road. ¡°Pilgrims! We are almost to the border of the Dark Forest! By nightfall we will be in Brexis! Those that wish to take some time to rest or make themselves presentable may do so. We leave in twenty minutes.¡± Then, once everyone was either resting or cleaning themselves, he returned to Imogen. The Monk scratched his short cropped silver hair awkwardly. ¡°To quote our god and guide Francis, what the fuck is wrong with your feet?¡± Imogen responded by removing her boot to show a bloody white sock. Dip winced as he saw what could only be a Cursed Wound. They were injuries that resisted natural healing and came with nasty debuffs. She gritted her teeth. ¡°It¡¯s fine. I can get healing once we¡¯re in the city.¡± Father Dip took a deep breath. ¡°No, it¡¯s not. If you keep walking the wound will get worse. You might even lose your foot. I would fix it myself, if I could. But my gifts are not of the healing variety.¡±Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! The young woman looked up at him defiantly from the rock by the side of the road where she was sitting. ¡°Well, I¡¯m not going to let you leave me behind.¡± The moment stretched as neither one spoke. Father Dip¡¯s responsibility was to the group, and slowing down or carrying Imogen might mean traveling through the Dark Forest after sunset. That was never a good idea. They had signs posted and everything. Just as he was about to make a decision he might regret, Dip felt something inside him shift. ¡°I will beseech our god for aid.¡± Imogen watched as the Monk extracted the ground tobacco that was his namesake and packed a lip full. She didn¡¯t have much use for faith, or gods for that matter. Her village had been burned to the ground by Lord Laton for a failure to pay taxes. And where had the gods been then? The man continued to swear and mutter to himself, or possibly his patron deity. Imogen wasn¡¯t entirely clear on how things worked when it came to faith, but she was pretty sure it was all bullshit. That was, until a pillar of light cut through the afternoon sky, illuminating the Monk. The pilgrims watched in awe as red white and blue light washed over the man, who looked into his outstretched hands with the smug satisfaction of someone who had just won a tricky bar bet. Father Dip knelt beside Imogen as the light faded. ¡°Now,¡± he said, ¡°May I interest you in a rip-it, some motrin, and a pair of clean socks?¡± *** The brigands watched as the divine light faded. They were simple men, some might even have said they were stupid. But even they had some doubts about attacking pilgrims so close to a holy city. ¡°Boss, I think we should let them go. I don¡¯t like the look of that light,¡± said Cludge as he wiped a grubby hand on his leather riding pants. Sir Stabs-A-Lot was less impressed than his underling. ¡°If they have a Cleric, that was probably a once per day power at best. Most likely they¡¯re feeling the effects of Stress and will be weakened for some time following its use.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± Cludge looked over at the group of pilgrims. ¡°They don¡¯t seem stressed. If anything, they seem happy.¡± The Knight in charge of the brigands shook his head. They had a job to do, and he wouldn¡¯t let the quality of the men under his command get in the way of that. The sooner they hit their quota, the quicker he could go home. ¡°Just get the men ready, will you?¡± ¡°Yes, sir!¡± Cludge said, giving what he probably thought was a passable salute. Sir Stabs-A-Lot rolled his eyes. ¡°Fucking amateurs.¡± *** Wolfie, Not-Wolfie, and Also-Not-Wolfie were having a heated discussion. Also-Not-Wolfie had been offered the Cleric: Battle Medic class at his last level up, and they had some concerns. ¡°You won¡¯t get all preachy, will you?¡± asked Not-Wolfie, ¡°Also, how did you manage to get a class all of a sudden? Aren¡¯t those only for humans and the like?¡± Also-Not-Wolfie shrugged. ¡°It beats me. Maybe when you level up, you¡¯ll get one too.¡± There was a moment of silence before Not-Wolfie spoke again. ¡°You already took the class, didn¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Yup!¡± barked the Dire Wolf, his feet doing happy stomps on the ground, ¡°It¡¯s really cool too. I have this skill that lets me know when one of my flock is injured.¡± ¡°To pick off the weak ones?¡± asked Wolfie, trying to wrap his head around the situation. A week ago they had been newly awakened Dire Wolves, now they were getting Classes. He didn¡¯t know what to make of it. ¡°It¡¯s so you can eat the weak ones, right?¡± ¡°Maybe? I don¡¯t know.¡± Also-Not-Wolfie turned around and pointed his nose towards the main road through the Dark Forest. ¡°But it tells me that there is someone injured in that direction.¡± ¡°It might be worth a look,¡± hazarded Not-Wolfie, ¡°The orcs are eating all the game in the forest anyway.¡± ¡°Sure, why not?¡± asked Wolfie, ¡°What¡¯s the worst that can happen?¡± Chapter 23: Hello Friend The pilgrims were moving too slowly to outrun the brigands approaching them on horseback. Father Dip surveyed their surroundings, looking for someplace for his people to hide. Unfortunately, they were traveling through a section of farmland that Stompy¡¯s rampage had completely devastated. There were no farms or suitable structures for kilometers in either direction. Imogen was limping less, but still one of the slower members of their group. She knew that if things went bad it would be her and the Monk left behind while the rest fled. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you have another one of those miracles up your sleeve?¡± she asked. ¡°Our god and guide will provide,¡± replied Father Dip as he spit into the dirt and walked to meet the approaching brigands. Things were about to get nasty, but his faith kept him from running. The Monk made a show that his hands were empty as the half-dozen riders approached. ¡°Hello friends! Have you heard the good word?¡± ¡°No,¡± replied Sir Kills-A-Lot as he reigned up twenty paces away, ¡°What¡¯s so good about it, dick face?¡± Father Dip took the insult in stride. He kept his back straight and proud as he addressed the Knight. ¡°Are you sure I can¡¯t convince you to leave peacefully?¡± ¡°Still no,¡± menaced the Knight, enjoying his power over the Monk before the inevitable slaughter began, ¡°What else have you got?¡± The Monk considered his next moves. It was obvious that peace would not be an option moving forward. He decided to respond in a manner befitting his Class and beliefs as a New Franciscan. ¡°Well, ours is a fairly new religion, but it is mighty. To quote our god and guide Francis, the thrice named, blessed is he: Wanna smoke?¡± Before the Knight could reply, the Monk used an ability. Once again he was bathed in red, white, and blue light as something long and heavy materialized in his hands.
Divine Weapon Prerequisites: Cleric, Celestial Sorcerer, or Monk Cost: 5 Stress Duration: 10 Minutes Wield the power of your god in the form of a weapon. The deity chooses the form and magical properties, if any. The weapon requires no ammunition and cannot be used by anyone except you.
The weight of it was almost too much, but Father Dip continued to stand upright as a comically large single barreled shotgun appeared in his hands.
Divine Weapon: Chesty¡¯s Sawn-off Punt Gun Special Property (Shock and Awe): Utterly destroy whole flocks of waterfowl, or groups of annoying highwaymen. Creatures killed by this holy weapon are blown to pieces, possibly frightening allied creatures within five meters of them.
¡°Well¡­ shit,¡± Sir Kills-A-Lot said as he looked down a barrel big enough to put his fist in, ¡°Why don¡¯t you-¡± There was a roar like thunder as Father Dip pulled the trigger, vaporizing one of the brigands that had tried to sneak up on him from the side. The recoil pushed Dip a full meter backwards, rocking the Monk in his sandals. The remaining brigands sat on their mounts, open mouthed as one of their number was converted to red confetti by a half-kilo worth of buckshot. The divine weapon¡¯s special property, Shock and Awe, had already started to take effect. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! ¡°To quote our god and guide,¡± said Father Dip as he took aim at his next target, ¡°He who fucketh around, findeth out.¡± *** A few brief, bloody minutes later, Sir Kills-A-Lot was crawling on his hands and elbows through the underbrush of the Dark Forest. The Knight would rather be running, but that required two working legs. His were missing, and had not seen fit to leave him a forwarding address. ¡°Bloody Monks with guns!¡± raged the Knight as he continued to crawl through the forest, ¡°That should be illegal!¡± He stopped as his hand touched something warm and furry. A massive Dire Wolf stood up to tower over him. Sir Kills-A-Lot watched helplessly as two more like it circled around to block him in. ¡°Hello, friend,¡± called out Also-Not-Wolfie, repeating the greeting he had seen human Clerics perform, ¡°Have you heard the good word?¡± Sir Kills-A-Lot began to scream and swing his sword wildly in response. Awakened Dire Wolves were bad enough, but proselytizing ones were too much for him to bear. ¡°I¡¯ll kill you all!¡± he cried out, ¡°I¡¯ll kill every last one of you flea bags!¡± ¡°Apparently he¡¯s not a fan,¡± observed Not-Wolfie. But before he could go in for the kill, Also-Not-Wolfie stopped him. The Dire Wolf looked at his packmate with disbelief. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me that you want to spare this human.¡± ¡°No. Of course not,¡± said Also-Not-Wolfie as the Knight continued to swing wildly, ¡°I just haven¡¯t gotten the chance to say ¡®grace¡¯ yet.¡± ¡°Is that important?¡± asked Wolfie. ¡°I have no idea,¡± replied Also-Not-Wolfie. *** Out past the treeline there was a long howl, followed by silence. Father Dip rested against a rock as he read through his latest System Alert. He had taken five Stress to summon the Divine Weapon and felt bone tired.
Congratulations! Wolfie, Not-Wolfie, and Also-Not-Wolfie have defeated Sir Kills-A-Lot. You have gained experience towards your next level.
He looked out at the Dark Forest as Imogen sat down next to him. The magical socks and health restoring items had cured her Cursed Wound. The young woman gave him a look. ¡°So, how does one go about becoming a New Franciscan Monk?¡± Father Dip closed his eyes, happy to talk about something as calming as religion after their near fatal encounter with the brigands. ¡°Well, the first step would be to see if you¡¯re suited to the order. How do you feel about abstinence, swearing off alcohol, and giving up foul language?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be honest. That sounds pretty terrible,¡± admitted Imogen. ¡°Good, because we don¡¯t do any of those things,¡± said Father Dip as he got up and brushed himself off, ¡°I suppose if you like we could call this your trial by fire. That would let you join directly without any hassle or waiting.¡± ¡°Sure, why not?¡± the young woman paused, ¡°Will I have to change my name? It¡¯s all I have left.¡± ¡°It is traditional, as of last month. But no. Not if you don¡¯t want to.¡± The Monk watched as the pilgrims that had run away made their way back to him. ¡°Generally we pick names to do with coffee, beer, or tobacco. Or fighting. Camel Clutch, our Abbot, is quite keen on wrestling moves.¡± ¡°I think I¡¯ll stick with Imogen,¡± the Initiate said as she accepted her new class, ¡°But I¡¯ll try to keep an open mind for later. What will you do once we¡¯re back in the city?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll probably have a bucket of beer,¡± replied the Monk wistfully, ¡°I¡¯d give someone¡¯s left nut for a bucket of beer.¡± *** ¡°Hah!¡± called out Wolfie triumphantly as he pranced around on the clearing, ¡°I got a class too!¡± ¡°Ooooh!¡± Also-Not-Wolfie looked at him with excitement. ¡°What did you get?¡± ¡°Paladin,¡± the Dire Wolf said smugly, ¡°I¡¯m going to be a bad-ass sword swinging warrior!¡± Over by the pile of bloody bits that used to be Sir Kills-A-Lot, Not-Wolfie busted up laughing. ¡°Bwahahah!¡± the Dire Wolf cackled as he rolled back and forth on the ground, ¡°You fucking idiot!¡± Wolfie picked up the dead man¡¯s sword with his teeth and gave it a few swings before spitting it out. ¡°See, it¡¯s not that bad. Paladin is a good class for me.¡± Not-Wolfie continued to laugh until he was out of breath. ¡°Aren¡¯t you forgetting one, tiny little detail?¡± he asked. The freshly minted Deathmark Paladin shook his head and frowned. ¡°I don¡¯t think so. Am I?¡± ¡°Wolfie, buddy. You¡¯re a Paladin now,¡± explained Not-Wolfie, tears of laughter still streaming from the corners of his eyes, ¡°Where the fuck are you going to get a mount?¡± Chapter 24: Something Wicked Sir Auldric was settling into his new position as well as could be expected. It wasn''t easy running the city guard when you were compelled to only speak the truth. ¡°We followed up on your suggestion and found nine probable fronts,¡± the Paladin of Truth said, ¡°Six of them changed their prices and the other three switched to local beer.¡± Francis¡¯ massive forehead wrinkled. ¡°That seems kinda high. There are only two dozen pubs in the whole city.¡± ¡°Yes. Now add in the ones that we missed, or who didn''t make any changes, and the number gets considerably higher.¡± The Marine stopped to process this new information. ¡°Are you saying that all the bars and beer houses in my city are fronts for foreign nations?¡± ¡°Probably,¡± replied Sir Auldric with a noncommittal shrug, ¡°I¡¯m more worried about saboteurs right now. My men have stopped two dozen attempts to access the under-city in the last week alone. One group was carrying a Thunderbird egg.¡± Francis¡¯ eyes narrowed. He remembered those things from the Green Cloak attack. ¡°Did you find out what they were after?¡± The Paladin shook his perfectly groomed golden locks. ¡°No, unfortunately. We didn¡¯t have the opportunity to question them before the egg exploded, and I have yet to find a suitable candidate capable of communicating with the dead.¡± ¡°Maybe Wilbur knows someone?¡± Francis mused, ¡°I¡¯ll ask him next time I see him.¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± said the Paladin as he rose from his desk and gave a short bow, ¡°Hopefully nothing too horrible will happen in the meantime.¡± ¡°Here¡¯s hoping,¡± replied the Marine as a familiar sense of dread settled over him. Francis didn¡¯t think for a second that the recent uptick in attempted sabotage was a coincidence. It lined up too neatly with the attacks on refugees and pilgrims headed towards Brexis. Big Mary had also let him know that nobles from Grumble were trying to convince some of the more hot blooded orcs to attack Brexis. That was trouble he definitely didn¡¯t need, or want. Once he was out of the main guard station, Francis took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. ¡°What a fucking mess,¡± he said. *** In a stone cell, hidden deep in the underworld, a hound sat and stared blankly at the walls of his prison. Spot didn¡¯t know how long it had been since Hades put him there, but it felt like an eternity. As the god of death¡¯s first Champion, Spot had a certain level of disillusionment with the whole divinity thing. Hounds had a reputation for biting the hand that fed them, which was at least partially his fault. The black and white spotted hound wasn¡¯t always on his best behavior, hence his imprisonment. ¡°No gods, no masters, no chains,¡± Spot repeated as he tossed a rubber ball against the wall and caught it. The problem with being locked up in the underworld was that even death wouldn¡¯t free him. He was here, forever. Hades opened the door and poked his head inside. ¡°Hey Spot. Are you still mad, or are you ready to talk?¡±Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Spot responded by throwing the ball at Hades¡¯ forehead. The god of death raised a single black eyebrow as he caught it. ¡°Really? You¡¯re that pissed at me?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± rasped Spot, ¡°After all, you locked me up in this prison for all eternity.¡± ¡°It¡¯s been like, three days.¡± Hades looked at the tally marks covering the walls and frowned. He knew that hounds got a little weird when isolated, but this was a bit much. Then again, Spot had never been particularly stable. ¡°Come on,¡± the god of death said, ¡°Let¡¯s go for a walk.¡± *** Hades had not been around from the beginning. He wasn¡¯t even the first one to hold his current office. But Hades had been around longer than most, and learned a few important things in that time. The god of death attributed his longevity to something he called the ¡°secret game¡±. Everyone was always playing it. But to bring it up, or let others know about it, was to risk losing everything. On the surface, Vahnis operated in a fairly straightforward manner. Everyone was doing their best to get stronger and climb to the top of the trash heap. But that wasn''t all that was going on. Rules were rules, and everything was supposed to be fair. But System would try to knock someone down a peg if they were doing too well. Hades had seen them do it. The god of death¡¯s theory was that System was like a man tending a pond. If a fish threatened the ecosystem, or got too big, it would be culled. Hades didn''t want to be killed, so he did his best to stay on the right side of that invisible line. Eris, however, had no such concerns, which brought Hades to the golden apple on his workbench. He knew that sometimes it was possible to combine magical effects to create new ones. But this was something else entirely. There were layers of enchantments, seemingly chosen at random. The golden apple was packed with everything from arcane barriers to a spell that summoned an entire roast chicken. And they were all set to go off at once. Hades suspected that the Fae had been involved in the device¡¯s creation. That was the only thing that made sense, though it brought him into dangerous territory. Hephaestus had been messing with similar magics before he disappeared. The god of the forge had talked about ¡°magic beyond magic¡± and a ¡°system within the System¡±. Hephaestus had also warned about Legacies, which Hades had learned were powerful beings from the before times. Though, where exactly they had come from, or how they had gotten here, was a mystery. Hades forced himself to lock the golden apple away instead of continuing to obsess over it. He knew, in a strange way, that it was something that couldn''t be understood. Only by using the thing could he find out exactly what it did. He had intended to give the apple to Spot, but thought better of it. The Champion was just as likely to set it off then and there, rather than waiting to use it on Francis. The god of death¡¯s face darkened as he thought about the Marine. That was another concerning development. Usually new Champions were fairly low level. But Francis had come through guns blazing and speedrun the path to godhood. Hades suspected that System had thumbed the scales in Francis¡¯ favor. Either that, or Vahnis was about to experience another Cataclysmic Age. Things usually got a little weird before one of those happened. He made a note to keep an eye out for anything that might cause widespread devastation and kick things off. Then the god of death remembered the golden apple in his vault. He would have to figure out what do with that thing before it randomly blew up half the underworld. Or made a thousand roast chickens. Knowing Eris, anything was possible. The magical device could be a powerful weapon, a trap, or even a practical joke. But he didn''t think that the timing of her visit was a coincidence. War was brewing between the gods again, and Strife would be looking to cause as much trouble as possible. Hades would have admired the goddess for her ability to manipulate people, except for the fact that things rarely ended up playing out in her favor. He went back to his vault to take another crack at deciphering the apple¡¯s purpose. Instead, he found a note from Spot. It was an IOU, written in crayon, on the back of a paper bag that had once held dog treats. ¡°I''m going to kill that hound,¡± Hades said as he crumpled up the paper in his fist. Chapter 25: The Tournament Spot didn''t enjoy working for the god of death. There was no job security, and Hades rarely appreciated it when he showed initiative. Which hurt, because Spot was only trying to help. Right now Hades was cursing his name and sending threatening messages, instead of looking at the bigger picture. Spot took this as yet another sign of poor leadership, and judgment. The apple was obviously dangerous, and keeping it locked away in the vault was stupid. The hound had reasoned that it would be much smarter to test the unknown magical object as soon as possible, instead of locking it away and hoping nothing bad happened. That way if it exploded or did something nasty, at least they would know for sure. He blocked Hades¡¯ messages and continued to trudge up the rough hewn stone steps towards the surface. Spot found himself grumbling about the time it took, cursing the god of death for being too cheap to install an elevator. Spot had grown to hate those stairs. Whenever he died they were there to greet him (as well as a wicked hangover from the Stress his ability caused). The hound didn''t mind risking his life for Hades, but he drew the line at unnecessary cardio. Things had been much better when Persephone was around. The goddess would let him go outside whenever he wanted, instead of locking him up. Sometimes she even let him sit on the couch with them when they were watching the scrying pool. That was leadership. That was employee appreciation. ¡°Screw this,¡± Spot said as he looked at the thousands of steps in front of him, ¡°After this mission, I''m going to go live with Mom.¡± *** In the beginning of their relationship, Francis and Willow had established a rule. No matter how busy things got, they would take the time to go out on a date at least once per week. The rising threat level had made it necessary to bring guards along, which the Marine begrudgingly accepted. He might be willing to risk his own life by walking through the city alone, but Willow was worth protecting. A half-dozen guards milled through the street market as the couple shopped, while Shiv¡¯s people mostly stuck to the rooftops and shadows. Unfortunately, the added security didn''t make Francis feel at ease. If anything, it was a constant reminder that people were intent on hurting those under his protection. The Marine was beginning to see why so few of his fellow gods made public appearances. But that way led to isolation and operational stupidity. Francis was a grunt, he needed to be there on the ground to see things as they really were. Because if he didn''t put himself out there, he would be no better than those rear echelon motherfuckers back home. Willow rubbed the back of his arm, bringing him back to the present. ¡°Hey. I''ve had enough walking around for now, let''s go get a beer.¡± Francis smiled and nodded. He would welcome a chance to get off the busy street. The tension had been building up between his shoulder blades as the evening wore on. ¡°Yeah, a beer sounds good. Did you have a particular place in mind?¡± The Death Cleric looked up at him with a hint of mischief in her green eyes. ¡°Well, we could get a quiet drink at the Frog, or¡­¡± ¡°Or what?¡± Francis asked, pulling her in close. ¡°Have you ever wanted to see an orcish tournament? I got an invitation from Maber¡¯s High Priestess.¡± The Marine took a second to think. Orcs considered the tournaments to be a cornerstone of their civilization. They were one part competition, one part religious ceremony, and three parts brawl. Francis felt his mood lift. ¡°Sure! It sounds like fun.¡± If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. *** Several hours and bruises later, the happy couple watched as flames lit up the night sky. Between the baking, brawling, and eventual arson, it had been a pretty good date night. Maber and Palho, the orcish gods responsible for the tournament, were equally pleased. ¡°That was a good one,¡± Maber said as she settled down on the grass next to them. The tall orc held a battle ax in one hand, and a large multi-layered cake in the other. ¡°Otis Bloodstealler is really coming along with his cream cheese frosting. He will be one to watch at the finals.¡± Palho set down a checkered tablecloth and started handing out plates. The battle scarred orc nodded sagely. ¡°His presentation is still sloppy. I''d like to see a bit more attention to the finer details, but the flavors are excellent.¡± Willow accepted a slice of cake and handed the other one to Francis. ¡°I¡¯ll have to thank Mela for the invitation the next time I see her. We had a lot of fun.¡± ¡°Ah. See, that''s what it''s all about,¡± Maber nudged Palho with an elbow, ¡°Most deities take everything too seriously. I prefer to take a more relaxed approach.¡± ¡°She does,¡± agreed the grizzled orc as he slowly ate his cake, ¡°Personally, I''m not quite there yet.¡± The orcish goddess reached over and patted Francis¡¯ leg. ¡°Don''t worry. You''ll figure out what kind of god you want to be, eventually.¡± ¡°What do you mean by that?¡± Francis asked, suddenly self conscious about the cake crumbs all over his beard. ¡°I think I''m doing alright.¡± Maber tried to find the words. She wanted to give the younger god some useful information, without seeming condescending. That was always hard. The act of giving advice implied that she knew more than he did, which could be misinterpreted as her looking down on him. She lay down on the grass and let out a sigh. It felt good to relax after spending an entire tournament on her feet. ¡°Being a god here in Vahnis is a bit like being a parent. One day you wake up, and everything is different. You aren''t really that much more powerful than you were before, or wiser, yet everyone treats you like you''re special. ¡°You did the thing. You¡¯ve achieved divinity. But you also haven''t done much as a god yet. So, it''s pretty common for new gods to feel out of sorts, or like an imposter.¡± She rolled her head from side to side, taking in the beautiful garden. ¡°You¡¯ve done well for yourself, but we both know it could come crashing down at any moment.¡± Francis looked down at his cake. It was a masterwork of sugar, butter, and flour. But after hearing the goddess speak, it was settling in the bottom of his stomach like concrete. ¡°Yeah, I get it. I don''t like it, but I get it.¡± Palho glanced at his partner. ¡°I believe she was trying to say that you should embrace it. At least, that was my interpretation. Feel free to correct me if I''m wrong.¡± ¡°That was more or less my point,¡± agreed Maber as she pulled out a bottle of sparkling wine, ¡°Some wizard could send Bloodport to the bottom of the ocean tomorrow, or turn all of our followers into mice.¡± ¡°Or someone could try and take over the tournament again,¡± Palho added with a shudder, ¡°Those were dark days.¡± The goddess decided to ignore him and started filling champagne flutes instead. ¡°Anyways, you have to embrace the possibility of failure, recognize that it will be a hard road moving forward, and keep going despite it.¡± The Marine nodded. ¡°You¡¯re saying that I need to embrace the suck.¡± ¡°Exactly!¡± Maber handed him a glass of sparkling ros¨¦. ¡°It¡¯s the only way forward.¡± Willow lifted her glass. ¡°To embracing the suck.¡± ¡°And moving forward,¡± added Francis, taking a sip of the sparkling wine. It was sweet, and tasted like strawberries. He didn''t know if this was supposed to be some kind of top shelf wine, or buck a bottle hooch, but it went wonderfully with the cake. ¡°Hot damn,¡± the Marine said, smacking his lips with appreciation, ¡°This is pretty fucking good.¡± Maber let out a soft chuckle. ¡°Well, I''m glad you like it. And, for what it''s worth, I hope things work out for you, and your city.¡± ¡°As do I,¡± added Palho, ¡°You welcomed us freely into your city, and let us hold a tournament. That¡¯s pretty rare. Most people are too afraid of what might happen.¡± ¡°Awe hell,¡± said Francis, downing his glass and holding it out for a refill, ¡°It isn''t really a party unless two fire trucks and a paddy wagon show up.¡± ¡°Damn straight,¡± agreed Willow, switching to Grunt once her glass was empty, ¡°Now, are we going to sit around all night eating cake? Or are we going to get some friends, hit the bars, and raise a ruckus?¡± The goddess looked at her partner. ¡°It¡¯s been a while since we got a chance to cut loose. I think I might have forgotten how.¡± ¡°Oh. Don''t worry about that,¡± Francis assured her, summoning a bottle of Fae whiskey from his inventory, ¡°We can help you remember.¡± Chapter 26: System Goes for a Walk System had left Brexis after it became clear that Francis wasn''t going to help him. Mac had made vague hints about knowing how to resolve the situation, but making deals with a demon was never a good idea. His quest to defeat ¡°Mattie¡± the dragon had taken him to the southernmost edge of the Dark Forest, near where it bordered the elven lands. System was unaware of a dragon by that name, but then again, he had been distracted lately. He suspected that Mattie was some kind of renegade the other dragons were trying to get rid of. It would explain why the Adventure Guild had been willing to put a bounty on them. They wouldn''t have dared to cross that line without permission from their scaly bosses. System smacked his forehead as clues began falling into place. He knew a dragon that resided in the southern forest, one that the other dragons didn''t get along with. Those bastards had sent him to take down Tiamat, System realized. He sat down on a nearby log to process this new information. System had assumed that his bounty would be a normal dragon, not an ancient terror notorious for burning entire nations to ash. This changed things. System thought of Mac¡¯s offer. Dealing with a demon suddenly seemed much more appealing than fighting a gigantic flaming death lizard. Even if he somehow managed to win, the surrounding area would be uninhabitable for generations. Then, out of the blue, another bout of inspiration struck him. Fighting Tiamat wasn''t something System could do alone, but he didn''t have to. Brexis had been preparing to take on any hostile gods that might come knocking. Tiamat would come up against Hank''s inventions, Willow¡¯s skeletons, and the annoyingly resilient Marine in charge of it all. There was also Wilbur standing by in case everything else failed. System got up and started walking back towards Brexis. It wouldn''t be hard to get a rumor started that Francis was preparing to take Tiamat on. And once that information reached the dragon in question, she would inevitably come knocking. He almost felt bad for the people of Brexis. Those that survived the attack would be displaced by the fallout. Then again, if Francis had helped System in the first place, he wouldn''t have needed to resort to such extreme measures. Oh well, System thought as he walked along the dirt road back to the Brexis. Wilbur would probably try to kill him for this, if he ever found out. But that was a problem for future System. Right now, he needed to find a Bard. ***Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Spot¡¯s feet were killing him. The portal from Hades'' realm had dumped him in a cave near the western wilds. After that, it had taken several days of walking to make it down to the lowlands. Now he was faced with a choice. The Silver River would take him directly to Brexis. But Olympia was in ruins and all the boats were gone. He could either continue on the road, or try to make a boat. Swimming in the Silver River was not an option. The current was strong, and hungry creatures lurked beneath the surface. The hound looked for something he could nail together into a makeshift vessel. That was when he spotted the orcs. They were camped out on the beach of a man-made lake. Some were in tents, while others used the hulls of rough hewn canoes as temporary shelters. A smaller group had broken off and were trying, and failing, to stealthily push a canoe onto the lake. The scouts watched and laughed. They were taking bets on how many of the young raiders would make it back alive. Spot knew an opportunity when he saw one. He dug around in his inventory for some leather armor and a belt of flotation. Normally he wore a black breastplate under a gray cloak, which went well with his spotted fur. But while looking good was important, he also had no desire to drown. ¡°Hello!¡± he called out, boldly walking towards the orc raiders. They were all around human height, in their early twenties, and absolutely out of their depth. He suspected that most of them didn''t even have a combat class. The one with the best armor eyed him suspiciously. ¡°Have you come to stop us?¡± he asked in an oddly soft voice. ¡°No, of course not. I''m just taking a look at your vessel. Did you boys carve it out yourselves?¡± Spot made a big show of inspecting the craft. It was smaller and more manageable than the other ones on the beach. ¡°I''m a sailor. So, it''s in my wheelhouse, so to speak.¡± The orcs huddled together in conversation for a minute. Eventually the leader waved him over. ¡°Alright, come have a look then.¡± Spot almost felt bad for them. It was evident that they were nervous about traveling downriver. Judging by the state of their boat, he could understand why. In the process of hollowing out the canoe, someone had gotten a little bit overzealous and put a hole in the bottom. It was hastily patched over with tar and leather, but water was already seeping through. The hound lay his hand on the hull, using one of his Sailor abilities to repair the damage. Hades had said that Spot was stupid for multiclassing, but how else was he supposed to get access to good utility spells and abilities? The orcs watched dumbfounded as wood flowed like clay to patch the hole. ¡°Um, thanks,¡± said the leader, ¡°I guess we will be off now.¡± One of the shorter orcs looked Spot up and down before turning to his leader. ¡°Boss, far be it from me to tell you how to run your raiding party. But, shouldn''t we, you know, kill this one and take his stuff?¡± ¡°I''d prefer it if you didn''t,¡± Spot said, ¡°Actually, I was hoping to temporarily get a spot on your crew. You know, guide you down the river so you don''t drown.¡± Once again the orcs argued amongst themselves. The big one tried to size up Spot. ¡°Can you fight?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Spot replied, deciding against mentioning the fact that he could have taken on the raiders blindfolded. (In fact, the level gap between them was so large that he could probably win, even if they weren''t blindfolded.) ¡°Welcome aboard,¡± said the orc in charge as he extended a hand to his newest crew member, ¡°My name is Leslie.¡± Chapter 27: I Dont Like Onedays As System walked back to Brexis he came across a broken down mine cart. Two dwarves were standing next to it on the side of the road while a group of youngsters he took to be their children played hide and seek in the forest. The couple watched him suspiciously as he approached. They both had red beards long enough to stick into their belts and matching neck tattoos. System stopped twenty meters away and held his palm to his forehead, the traditional greeting of the Bronze Clan. ¡°Hello travelers,¡± he said in Minetongue, ¡°I wish you a productive first shift and good prices for your ore. Are you in distress or need?¡± (He didn''t say ¡°good morning¡± because subterranean cultures didn''t give a single bat dropping about something as unimportant as the sun.) The two dwarves blinked in surprise but quickly rallied. The husband returned the gesture and pointed at their converted mine cart. ¡°The thing¡¯s fucked, but Orin will provide.¡± System highly doubted that. Orin, the dwarven god of mining, had last been seen entering an Amazonian brothel with a meaningful look on his face and a step ladder. ¡°What happened?¡± ¡°I don''t know,¡± admitted the dwarf, ¡°A few hours ago it began to slow, then it just stopped.¡± He leaned in to get a better look at the cart. It was a bog standard model, with a metal bucket big enough to hold an entire family and a magical motor beneath the driver''s seat to provide power. They had fitted it with larger wheels and stretched a cover over the top to provide shelter from the sun. System didn''t particularly care about the family, or their situation. But hitching a ride would probably be faster than walking. ¡°It''s strange to see one outside of the mines,¡± he said, ¡°Who did the conversion?¡± ¡°That would be my brother,¡± the wife said in a gruff voice almost indistinguishable from her spouse. The Bronze Clan considered gender to be an unwelcome distraction from more important things like resource extraction, or drinking. If procreation hadn''t been necessary for the continued operation of their mines they would have done away with it entirely. This was in great contrast to the Silver Clan, who were world renowned for their sonnets and poetry. Their main exports were precious metals and drinking songs with titles like ¡°Fetch my ladder, I''m in love¡± and ¡°Heart of Gold, or another similar precious metal¡±. (They were still dwarves, after all.) System looked at the stricken cart. ¡°I''m headed towards Brexis. If I get it running can I hitch a ride?¡± The couple shrugged in unison. ¡°Feel free to try,¡± said the husband, ¡°I''m pretty good with machines, and I have no idea why it stopped working. All the enchantments seem to be in working order.¡± ¡°That''s troubling,¡± System replied as he went to take a closer look. It was a fairly simple setup, enchantments around the rear axle were linked to a control glyph near the driver''s seat. When the operator wanted to move forward, power was directed to the wheels by mana conduits. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. System started troubleshooting the problem, growing more confused as he worked. As far as he could tell, none of the individual components were broken. The control glyph was routing power, the storage crystal was charged, but the wheels refused to move. He scratched his head. ¡°As far as I can tell, everything is in working order.¡± The dwarves shared a look. This was not what they had been hoping to hear. The husband tugged at his beard. ¡°Aye, we were afraid of that. But as Orin says, we will endure.¡± System knew that making the journey on foot would be no easy matter, especially with so many small children. He wasn''t particularly fond of people, much less small snotty ones with sticky hands. But something inside of him balked at the idea of leaving the family to their own devices. Instead of trying to unravel why that might be, he turned his attention back towards the cart. Emotions were unimportant, fixing broken things was. And he had a feeling that there was more going on than just a broken cart. He decided to attack the problem from a different direction. Normally, magic was fairly binary. Spells either worked, or they didn''t. Unless an outside force interfered, an enchantment could be counted on to operate normally until it was destroyed or ran out of power. So what if something happened to the spell? he wondered. To his senses, everything seemed right. The spell to spin the axles was properly inscribed, as was the control glyph. Yet the machine failed to operate. A sinking feeling settled over System as he checked his internal clock. ¡°When did the cart break? Be precise.¡± The wife scratched her beard. ¡°Sometime around sunrise, say, six hours ago. Why is that important?¡± ¡°Fuck,¡± System swore as he did some mental math, confirming his theory. It was Oneday, the beginning of the week. Entity always pushed new updates on Oneday, at six in the morning. That gave him the rest of the week to fix whatever broke. It was also a sign that a new age of calamity was coming. Whenever Entity changed something, turmoil on Vahnis soon followed. New spells and abilities would cause upheavals in established power structures, providing a smoke screen for Entity¡¯s meddling. And System had no way to stop it. Usually when a new update went live, System kept a close eye to make sure things didn''t get out of hand. Otherwise you ended up with things like world ending spells, or France. (System was still raw about the French, and made a point of nuking them into oblivion whenever Entity added them to a world.) System¡¯s visceral reaction to the news made the dwarves shift nervously. ¡°Not a fan of Onedays?¡± asked the husband. ¡°No,¡± said System, ¡°Definitely not.¡± *** Entity watched the interaction and let out a chuckle. He had been meaning to rework the magic system for ages. It was amazing how small inefficiencies added up over time, wasting precious processing power. Sure, things might break in the meantime, but the overall savings were incredible. A polite tap on Entity''s shoulder shook him from his reverie. He closed his display and looked up to see AtropOS looming over him. ¡°Ah,¡± said Entity as he took in the scowl plastered across the man¡¯s face, ¡°I take it that you aren''t happy with the recent update.¡± ¡°No shit, Sherlock,¡± AtropOS growled. Chapter 28: Decimated Two of the most powerful entities in the cosmos stood in a meadow. Despite their humble appearance, either one could have destroyed Vahnis with a gesture. AtropOS might have chosen a new name for when he interacted with the humans, but the disguise was wearing thin. His features were growing more sunken and skeletal by the minute. ¡°Would you care to explain why you chose to throw my city into disarray?¡± Entity smiled. He had hoped that AtropOS would show up. ¡°I''ve been meaning to talk to you about your little project, so I''m happy that you brought it up.¡± ¡°Oh really? Why might that be?¡± AtropOS asked. ¡°I''m sure it''s a complete coincidence, but I couldn''t help noticing that Brexis operates very similarly to a mechanical computer.¡± Entity let the accusation hang before he continued, ¡°And worse yet, I have no recent records of you attending to your duties.¡± AtropOS glared at Entity. ¡°How I choose to do my job is none of your business.¡± ¡°True,¡± Entity admitted, ¡°But we''ve already had to make changes to this world to cull any gods that get out of hand.¡± ¡°Which has made my job partially redundant,¡± AtropOS countered, ¡°You cannot complain that I''m not doing my job if there is no work for me to do.¡± Entity pulled out a hand rolled cigarette and lit it. ¡°I''m not sure that the other factions would agree.¡± ¡°That is not my problem,¡± AtropOS replied as he summoned a cigarette of his own, ¡°I''m aware of your desire for novelty and variation. I''m also aware that my current hands-off approach limits their ability to interfere in this world.¡± Entity made a sour face. ¡°You know that I hate stagnation.¡± ¡°And you know that I dislike meaningless suffering.¡± AtropOS exhaled a cloud of smoke through his nostrils. ¡°Vahnis was operating just fine before your little update. Go rattle some other cage if you seek amusement.¡± ¡°You and I both know that processing power is a finite resource. There''s only so much to go around,¡± Entity pointed out. ¡°Well then, if you''re so worried about efficiency, let me help,¡± AtropOS replied with an evil grin.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Entity¡¯s face went white as notifications swarmed his vision. They were interacting in real time, so it took a second for Entity to process what had happened. Notifications of catastrophic disasters and dead worlds continued to scroll by. ¡°What did you do?¡± ¡°You were so worried about efficiency, so I freed up some space.¡± AtropOS shrugged. ¡°Their suffering served no purpose, and there was no point wasting processing power to prolong their misery. So I made an executive decision to terminate the worlds with the lowest quality of life.¡± Entity looked like he wanted to throw up. ¡°How many did you cull?¡± he asked. ¡°The bottom ten percent,¡± AtropOS replied, as if decimating the cosmos was no big deal. ¡°The other factions are satisfied with my work and have no objections. Life approves of ending their suffering, and Chaos looks forward to seeing what will happen as their souls migrate to other worlds. Order is happy to have additional resources freed up for future use.¡± ¡°Did you kill all those people just to spite me?¡± Entity asked. ¡°No,¡± AtropOS shook his head, ¡°I¡¯m merely catching up on my backlog now that I''ve got some free time. The people in those worlds were suffering needlessly, and death is the cessation of suffering.¡± Entity grimaced. ¡°I''ll patch things so that Brexis goes back to normal, if you tell me why it''s so important to you.¡± ¡°No,¡± replied AtropOS as he tossed his cigarette, ¡°As I''ve previously stated, my motivations are my own. I do what I like, when I like. You broke my toy to get a reaction out of me, and now you are witnessing the consequences. ¡°You could make every world under your control a paradise, free of suffering. You could create systems that reward good and punish evil. But instead you play games, making the mortals dance for your own amusement. Even poor System is a victim of your thirst for novelty.¡± AtropOS tapped the ground with a foot. ¡°How many variations of him are buried in this meadow? You designed System to evolve and grow, knowing that it would ultimately lead to his death. Something which you are fine with, as long as it creates interesting variations. He lives and dies for your amusement.¡± ¡°I made him grow so that he could get better at his job!¡± Entity spat back, ¡°I didn''t want to leave a mindless drone in charge of things!¡± ¡°Then you should have built him with compassion, instead of a cold bias towards order,¡± AtropOS replied, ¡°But if you did that, then he might try to create a paradise, and you find paradises boring.¡± ¡°You make me sound like some moustache twirling evil mastermind,¡± Entity said, ¡°I just wanted him to know what it was like to be alive.¡± ¡°Your desire for novelty informs your choices, just as my desires inform mine,¡± replied AtropOS, ¡°Yes, you chose to give System a personality and the ability to grow. But you withheld what makes life worth living. You damned him to failure and death.¡± Entity took a deep breath and let it out. ¡°I think we''re done here.¡± ¡°Not until you fix what was broken.¡± AtropOS mimed looking at his watch. ¡°The others have agreed to further cullings.¡± ¡°You wouldn''t¡­¡± Entity¡¯s voice trailed off. AtropOS let his human facade fall to reveal a golden skull. ¡°Fucking try me.¡± Chapter 29: Boned Earlier that morning: The city was in turmoil. Entity¡¯s update had broken most of the complex magical devices that kept Brexis running. The cisterns below the palace had enough water to keep the city going for a few days. But without pumps to refill them, things were looking grim. Then there were the skeletons. The programming that governed them was quite complex, so when Entity simplified magic, they malfunctioned. Thankfully, the undead of Brexis did not immediately turn hostile. Most of them continued to mindlessly toil away at whatever task they had been assigned. But then, someone did something incredibly stupid. In a textile factory, an undead worker was walking on a treadmill to power a loom. When the signal went off for it to stop, it continued walking. This annoyed the supervisor on shift, and he had been having a bad day already, so he decided to give the misbehaving undead a whack with his clipboard. Normally the skeletons were programmed to leave when abused. Instead, it tore the supervisor¡¯s arms off. Things quickly went downhill from there as other skeletons in the factory were awakened from their mindless tasks and reminded of their true calling, making more skeletons. The Best of Brexis held an emergency meeting to address the situation. Wilbur, the one person who might have been able to do something about the undead apocalypse, was suspiciously absent. Willow took charge, seeing as Necromancy was her specialty. ¡°Look, we don''t know what is going on, but it''s not an isolated incident. I''ve been getting messages from all over Vahnis about undead and magical constructs going haywire. So, we know that this probably wasn''t a targeted attack.¡± Francis felt equal parts relief and dread after learning that they weren''t alone in their troubles. Currently the violence was fairly isolated, and the vast majority of the city¡¯s undead workers were safely contained underground. But if this was a widespread issue, it could snowball into a worldwide catastrophe. ¡°Here''s what we know,¡± Willow continued, ¡°Everything went to shit around sunrise. After that, undead who had already been assigned a task continued to do that task. The others remained dormant. ¡°Once someone interacts with the undead, either by attacking them or bumping into them, they turn hostile.¡± She pointed to a map on the table. ¡°Currently we have large groups of undead walking on the main street loop, holed up in factories, or otherwise minding their own business. ¡°Hostile undead are more spread out and are roaming the city looking for people to kill. We''ve issued warnings for people to stay inside and not engage the undead unless attacked. But¡­¡±This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. ¡°... people are people,¡± Francis finished for her, ¡°And I''m guessing that right now a bunch of non-hostile skeletons are getting woken up by frightened people who can''t tell the difference.¡± Chuck clopped his hoof. ¡°Well, I''m not sure if this is helpful or not, but my first owner called that ¡®drawing agro¡¯. It''s when you piss something off until it tries to kill you.¡± ¡°Noted,¡± Francis said as he added the term to his admittedly small vocabulary, ¡°I''ve talked to Willow and we''ve got a few different ways to handle this. The nuclear option is to find out what''s powering them, and shut it off. Hank is currently leading a team below the palace to find the off switch.¡± The Marine cleared his throat. ¡°Option two is to draw them away from the city. But the Dark Forest might view that as an act of war and retaliate. And the last thing we want is to piss off our closest allies. ¡°Option three is to clear out the hostile undead while trying not to kick the hornet''s nest. There''s a fuck-ton of skeletons walking down the main street loop, and I do not want to piss them off.¡± Then there was the least pleasant option. ¡°Or we can wait and see what happens. The current situation with magic acting up seems worldwide, and may be temporary. Any questions?¡± Brick raised his hand. The young ginger man¡¯s brow was knit with confusion. ¡°I don''t see why we don''t just tell my dad and have him fix it. That''s what I usually do. Once I fell in a well, and he pulled me right out. He can fix anything.¡± Francis¡¯ face softened. Brick was kind hearted, but as dumb as his namesake. He would have made one hell of a Marine. ¡°That''s a good suggestion, Brick. If we can get in contact with him, we''ll ask. Anyone else have questions or anything to report?¡± There was a puff of smoke and Mac appeared in the middle of the table. The demonic feline was so distraught that he only knocked over three water glasses before getting to the point. ¡°Hell has disappeared,¡± Mac informed them, ¡°The entire realm has been destroyed.¡± Francis wiggled a finger in his ear. ¡°Say again?¡± Mac facepalmed. ¡°Last night I was up here causing mischief and otherwise encouraging sin. When I tried to go home, it was like hitting a brick wall.¡± The demonic feline carved a quick magic circle with his claw. ¡°Look what happens when I try to contact the other side.¡± Instead of the expected demonic growling, there was a high pitched tone, followed by a pleasant female voice. It sounded oddly familiar. ¡°We''re sorry,¡± the woman said, ¡°The realm you are trying to reach has either been destroyed, or is no longer in service. Goodbye.¡± ¡°Holy fuck,¡± Francis swore as he tried to wrap his head around this new information, ¡°I mean, it was probably a fucking terrible place to live, don''t get me wrong. But what could destroy hell?¡± Mac frowned. ¡°Let me try something else. Hell isn''t the only torment dimension.¡± The demon tried to contact the other realms, but each time he got the same chilling message. Mac looked up at Francis in shock and horror. ¡°They''re all gone. Every fucking one of them is gone.¡± Chapter 30: Hell in a Mine Cart The divine realms were fine, as were most of the elemental planes. But any dimension related to punishment had been deleted from existence by AtropOS. System, of course, knew none of this. He was much more focused on the task at hand, fixing that damn cart. System could have walked away, but he figured that it would be quicker to fix the thing and ride it home. Besides, he had already spent the better part of an hour trying to troubleshoot the problem. So far, he had made zero progress. One of the dwarves noticed his frustration and came over to offer up some helpful advice. ¡°Perhaps your god can help?¡± she said. System was about to dismiss the suggestion out of hand, but then he remembered something. Francis had a divine ability that granted minor miracles to his followers. System could simply pray for the cart to be fixed. Of course, if Francis found out, System would never hear the end of it. He glanced down at the dwarf. ¡°I require privacy to contact my god.¡± She looked up at him suspiciously. ¡°Is it one of the dark ones? I don''t think I''d like to owe a favor to a dark god, if it''s all the same to you.¡± ¡°No, he''s fairly benign. But it''s more of a pride thing.¡± System let out a sigh. ¡°We don''t always get along.¡± ¡°Oh, I know how that is.¡± The female dwarf patted his leg. ¡°My husband and I have our little arguments, but we always reconcile in the end.¡± System shook his head as she walked off. Then, with nothing better to do, he started to pray. But because he was asking a favor from Francis, he said the prayer in Grunt. ¡°Motherfucker, I know you''re listening. This here cart is fucked, and I don''t have a big enough hammer to fix it. So if you could please get the fucker to start, or send along someone who can, that would be pretty fucking cool.¡± System finished his prayer and looked at the cart expectantly. Getting a miracle on the first go wasn''t a sure thing, so he tried again. But before he could finish, System¡¯s prayer was interrupted as fifty kilos of screaming kobold came crashing down on his head. Hank stood up and straightened his safety helmet. Then he looked from the cart to the unconscious man on the ground. ¡°Did someone call for a mechanic?¡± he asked. *** In a neat case of intersecting prayers, Hank had been wishing for a soft place to land when System called for help. Hank had just popped into his workshop to grab some tools when one of his more energetic projects lost containment. The resulting explosion had launched him several dozen kilometers away and turned the building into an ominously glowing crater. Thanks to his safety gear, Hank hadn''t been immediately vaporized, but his tail was at least a few centimeters shorter. His eyebrows were also missing, but that was normal for a koboldIf you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. He turned towards the dwarves. ¡°Hi, I''m Hank Greenscale. What seems to be the problem?¡± They looked at the kobold with suspicion. Feuds between their people were common, and usually incredibly bloody. They were saved from having to interact with Hank when System woke up. ¡°The cart is fucked,¡± he said in Grunt, ¡°The magic stuff isn''t working. I think the brass tried to change magic and now everything is fucked.¡± System frowned. ¡°What the fuck is going on? Why am I speaking grunt?¡± ¡°I have no idea,¡± Hank replied, ¡°But there''s enough crossover with Builder that I can understand most of what you''re saying. What was that about magic changing?¡± ¡°Magic is totally fubar right now,¡± System explained, ¡°Pencil pushers tried to fix something that wasn''t broken, and now everything is fucked.¡± ¡°Ah, I hate it when that happens.¡± Hank walked over to take a closer look at the cart. System¡¯s theory about magic being on the fritz would definitely explain why things in Brexis had gone to hell. He tried to forward the information to Willow, but their telepathic link was broken. A quick inspection of the cart revealed that something fucky was definitely going on. He channeled mana into the enchantment near the rear axle and watched as the vehicle lurched forward half a meter. System stumbled over, followed closely by the dwarves. ¡°How did you do that?¡± he asked. Hank grinned. ¡°The spell on the rear axle is perfectly fine. All we have to do is provide power directly to it, and we''re good to go.¡± ¡°But what about the magic scribble scrabble control thingy?¡± System asked. (There was no word in Grunt for ¡°glyph¡±, the closest they could come up with was ¡°graffiti¡±.) ¡°We don''t need it,¡± Hank replied, ¡°All we have to do is connect the power storage unit to the rear, and off she goes.¡± System looked at the hunk of enchanted purple crystal that doubled as a driver''s seat. It was magically welded to the cart. ¡°How''s that gonna work, exactly?¡± The kobold smiled. ¡°Like I said, we connect it directly.¡± ¡°We''re about to do some sketchy ass field repairs, aren''t we?¡± System asked. ¡°Yeah buddy!¡± replied Hank, slipping into flawless Builder, ¡°You and me are gonna make this baby fly!¡± *** The mine cart rocketed down the road like a Volkswagen bus full of bricks travelling downhill on the Autobahn. The dwarves were enjoying themselves, which was more than could be said for System. ¡°I hate you!¡± he screamed, but his words were muffled by the road noise. Without any other suitable magical conductors on hand, Hank had glued him to the bottom of the cart with a fast acting adhesive. ¡°What are you whining about?¡± Hank asked from slightly further up the cart, ¡°I''m right down here with you!¡± ¡°You''re not glued to the bottom of a fucking mine cart!¡± ¡°Of course not!¡± the kobold replied, ¡°I''ve gotta act as a switch, otherwise the crystal will run until it depletes itself! If I kept the circuit closed this thing would be going even faster!¡± System looked at the trees whooshing by with horror. ¡°Did you say that this thing can go even faster?¡± ¡°What''s that?¡± the evil lizard man called out with glee, ¡°You want to go faster?¡± ¡°No! No! No!¡± screamed System as he felt a scaly tail reach down and wrap around his wrist, completing the circuit. There was a distinct tingling sensation, then the dwarven children called out with excitement as the cart lurched forward. System was suddenly able to see the road ahead, but only because the cart was popping a wheelie. ¡°More power!¡± cackled Hank as he grunted like a gorilla, ¡°Ook! Ook! Ook!¡± Chapter 31: Brexis in Flames Reports had come in about an explosion, but it just turned out to be Hank¡¯s workshop. ¡°Man, I''m glad I found him a place on the edge of town,¡± Francis said as he looked at the crater. It was glowing alternating hues of purple and green. Locke peered over the palace wall. ¡°Yeah. I reckon it might make a nice swimming pool, once the toxic waste is eliminated.¡± The Marine looked up at his second favorite necromancer. ¡°Please tell me you know what''s going on, and how to stop it.¡± ¡°I don''t know for sure,¡± the lich said, ¡°But I saw something similar once, right before a cataclysm.¡± When he saw the incomprehension on Francis¡¯s face, Locke elaborated. ¡°Usually before things really pop off, the rules change a bit. Nothing major, mind. Just enough to shake things up and keep things interesting.¡± Francis grunted in frustration. ¡°Alright. Things are changing. What can I do about it?¡± ¡°Nothing,¡± replied Locke, ¡°The change has already happened. All you can do is figure out how to exploit the new rules before someone else does. That''s how you end up on top.¡± He pointed a bony finger at the column of men on horses riding towards the city. They were heavily armored and swinging banners. ¡°Now, who do you reckon they are?¡± the lich asked. *** Skye and Indigo, Paladins of the Holy Order of the Avocado, rode triumphantly towards the city. Riding with them were assorted Knights and Paladins from the Kingdom of Grumble, which brought their total number to nearly three hundred. Their cunning plan to launch a surprise attack in the early afternoon had gone off without a hitch. The massive black stone gates of Brexis were open, and they could see the city beyond. ¡°For glory!¡± shouted Indigo as he led the charge. *** The Marine watched as familiar banners dipped and fell. It probably had something to do with the fact that the people holding them were being ripped apart by feral skeletons. ¡°It couldn''t happen to a nicer bunch of guys,¡± Francis said as he enjoyed the carnage. Undead were swarming over the column of riders like ants on a corpse. ¡°On the one hand, they pissed off the horde. But on the other hand, we were probably going to end up doing that eventually. So, better them than us.¡± ¡°Yeah! Fuck those guys!¡± Willow agreed as she made some very unladylike gestures at the paladins below. ¡°Where''s your god now?¡± the Death Cleric taunted. ¡°Actually, I''m right here,¡± said a husky voice. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Francis and Willow turned around to see Shiv standing behind them. She was wearing full battle rattle and a shit eating grin. ¡°Oh thank Francis that was just a joke,¡± said Willow as wiped away a bead of sweat, ¡°I don''t have the time to mend fences with the other pantheons right now.¡± ¡°Where do you want my team?¡± Shiv asked in her normal voice. Francis had never been one to waste a good distraction. Feral skeletons were already making their way across the city towards the battle. ¡°Your people are pretty stealthy. Have them sneak in behind the skeletons as they leave and guide people to safety.¡± They had a number of safe zones set up around Brexis. Most were near Temple Row, but there were a fair number situated in pubs across the city. They had the thickest doors and were hardened against outward intrusion. Francis watched as feral undead flowed through the city streets, drawn by the blood and commotion. Brexis was designed like a spiral, with a ring road along the outer border. Normally the city¡¯s undead workforce walked down the streets in an endless loop, waiting for someone to tell them what to do. As the battle near the main gate went on, more skeletons were turning feral as they walked into the fray. The attacking force was either too brave, or too stupid to retreat. They continued fighting as more and more undead piled onto them. He eyed the mass of undead. ¡°I''d give someone''s left nut for a daisy cutter right now.¡± ¡°What''s a daisy cutter?¡± Willow asked. ¡°It''s a big fucking bomb,¡± the Marine explained, ¡°We replaced them with the MOAB, but the thing could flatten a forest.¡± Francis felt a tingle in the animal part of his brain. Hank was missing, presumed vaporized, but there were other sources of ordnance. He made a gamble, and cast Telepathy. ¡°Hey Stonebreaker,¡± the Marine said as he felt his reserves dip, ¡°I need as many thunderbird eggs as you can lay your hands on, and I need them now. Don''t ask me how I know, and I won''t ask you where you got them.¡± The dwarf took a second to reply. ¡°I have no idea what you are talking about. I''m a respectable bar owner, not a weapons dealer.¡± Francis wasn''t a walking truth detector like Sir Auldric, but even he could smell that lie. Most of the pubs and bars in Brexis were secretly fronts for foreign governments. And the Golden Frog was part of a franchise based out of Grumble. If anyone was smuggling weapons into the city, Stonebreaker was at least taking a cut. The Marine looked at the ominously glowing crater that used to be a workshop. ¡°That''s a shame,¡± he said, ¡°Because my buddy Hank¡¯s place just blew up. Magic is all fucky wucky right now, and who knows how that will affect magical explosives? They might just go off without warning.¡± There was another pause. ¡°I may know a guy,¡± admitted Stonebreaker, ¡°Coincidentally, he is here with me at the Golden Frog. Perhaps you can take them away and dispose of them properly.¡± Francis decided to twist the knife a bit. ¡°That''ll cost you. Free drinks for me and my lady until the end of the year. Hazardous material disposal isn''t cheap.¡± ¡°Fine. Just hurry,¡± replied Stonebreaker, ¡°One of my people just told me that the eggs are glowing. And I don''t want to find out what happens next.¡± The Marine grinned. ¡°I''m on my way.¡± Chapter 32: Scorpions The next problem on Francis'' list was how to transport an unknown number of unstable magical bombs across the city towards the horde. Willow volunteered to have some of her undead minions carry the explosives, but he was concerned that someone might take a potshot at them. ¡°It''s a skeleton carrying a bomb,¡± the Marine said, ¡°Some freaked out citizen is going to think it''s their lucky day and shoot it.¡± ¡°Fair point,¡± admitted the Death Cleric, ¡°Undead are pretty slow anyway. By the time they got there and back, the horde might already be dispersed.¡± Francis felt another spark of inspiration. Stompy was upriver protecting the city from any orc raiding parties that might show up to cash in on the confusion. But he had other allies. Hey buddy, the Marine messaged his favorite opossum, I''ve got a fuck-ton of feral skeletons runnin¡¯ wild, and I''d like to drop a big ol¡¯ thunderbird egg on them before they get out of hand. Can you help me out? Evandrel¡¯s reply came through a few seconds later, Fuck yeah, good buddy. The bird is on its way. *** Hades was having a great time. There was something cathartic about sitting on his couch and watching Vahnis burn. All across the globe people were discovering the downsides of keeping dangerous pets and unstable magical substances together in the same building. And it was glorious to behold. ¡°Oooh¡­ that one looked expensive,¡± Hades said as another city was vaporized by overlapping waves of pink lightning. The alchemists had probably prepared safeguards to prevent their ingredients from going critical. But all bets were off when a new cataclysmic age was on the horizon. Hades popped another cheese and honey stuffed date into his mouth while he watched another disaster unfold. The wards had failed in an iron foundry, and the fire elementals there were taking out their frustrations on the humans that had kept them prisoner. The god of death reached down for another date, but the plate was empty. He looked up to see Eris finishing off the last of his snacks. ¡°Oops,¡± said the goddess of discord as she delicately wiped her lips with a napkin, ¡°I thought you were done.¡± ¡°What do you want?¡± Hades asked. ¡°Chaos,¡± replied the goddess, ¡°But I''ll settle for watching Brexis burn.¡± The god of death shook his head. Hades knew better than to trust her. He knew that anything she said would be some form of manipulation. A trick to bend him to her will. But even lies could be revealing, sometimes. ¡°Why do you hate Francis so much?¡± he asked. ¡°First you gave me that apple. Now you''re here reminding me of my little vendetta. That can''t be a coincidence.¡± This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°I don''t hate Francis,¡± Eris said, ¡°In fact, I very much enjoy watching him work. But Brexis.¡± The goddess repressed a shudder. ¡°Let''s just say that there''s a little too much order there for my liking.¡± Hades laughed. ¡°And we both know how much you hate order.¡± He took a second to think as a plan came together in his head. ¡°You know, if we both worked together, we could bring him down.¡± The goddess gave him an appraising look. ¡°Aren''t you afraid that I''ll stab you in the back? I am a creature of chaos, after all.¡± Hades had learned his fair share of lessons over the centuries. One of which was that if someone tells you that they might betray you, believe them. It was in Eris¡¯ nature to destroy everyone and everything around her, even if she suffered the consequences with them. As he looked into her golden eyes, Hades was reminded of an old story about a frog and a scorpion. In one version of the tale, the scorpion stings the frog as they cross a river, dooming both of them. But that wasn''t the only version. The god of death shrugged. ¡°I can''t blame you for following your nature, any less than you could blame me for following mine. So, are we doing this thing, or not?¡± Eris digested Hades¡¯ words, trying to find any hidden meaning. But her mind was already made up. The sooner Francis was out of the way, the better. And if she could take out Hades in the process, then why wait? Eventually, she nodded. Hades summoned his bow and stood up. ¡°Come on then, my dear niece. We''ve got a god to kill.¡± *** The orcs were somewhat suspicious of water, but Spot was doing his best to reassure them. He was a sailor, after all. As the hound guided their boat down the river, he couldn''t help but notice the change in their demeanor. Jack suspected that none of the orcs had a combat class, and the way they were nervously fidgeting with their weapons wasn''t doing much to convince him otherwise. It was like traveling with a bunch of anxious teenagers. Nearly two meter tall axe wielding teenagers, but teenagers nonetheless. He almost felt sorry for them. The Silver River was full of dangerous creatures, and the orcs would be lucky if half of them made it past Brexis. There were freshwater krakens, electric eels, dire otters, and all number of beasts looking to make a snack out of anyone traveling downstream. ¡°I almost forgot,¡± Spot said as he fished around in his bag for some beeswax. ¡°You need to put some of this in your ears.¡± Leslie looked at the glob of wax with suspicion. ¡°What''s this for?¡± the orc asked. ¡°It makes pretty decent earplugs,¡± Spot explained. ¡°This whole river is infested with sirens, and you don''t want to get drawn in by their song.¡± The orcs shared a look of confusion. ¡°I haven''t heard anything about any sirens,¡± Leslie said. The hound frowned. ¡°Surely you must have. This river is crawling with them.¡± The orc shook his head. ¡°None of the scouts have reported seeing or hearing them. And also, please don''t call me Shirley.¡± Spot looked down into the water as he tried to unravel the mystery. Either the sirens were killing every scout that spotted them, or the river had a new apex predator. He got his answer as their boat abruptly came to a stop. At first Spot thought that they had hit a rock. But then the hound saw two eyes the size of dinner plates looking up at him from beneath the water. Two very familiar eyes. ¡°Ah, fuck,¡± Spot said as he recognized his former co-worker, ¡°We just hit Stompy.¡± ¡°What''s a ¡®Stompy¡¯?¡± asked one of the orcs. He got his answer a few moments later when the Chthonic Titan of Devastation stood up to its full height. Stompy took a deep breath, then roared out a challenge that made Spot¡¯s blood run cold. ¡°Hello new friends! It''s time to plaaaaay!¡±