Chapter 209 - TFF (Patreon)

The Sanctuary had changed on the inside as well. Alan wondered whether moving buildings around was as simple as spending some points in the World Temple.  He had to check what those would do for him. Perhaps he needed more mana stones for the ritual, although his reserves had grown quite a lot. Perhaps he could trade for something more.

A thin invisible barrier covered most of the inner parts, starting with the second wall that the new one now dwarfed. He could sense it like a muted TV in the room. It did nothing to bar him from passing through, which was to be expected as he was a registered resident in the Sanctuary. Funny how that worked. This place was technically his home, although it was not at all something he had considered as such.

Mayra dragged herself behind him, head bowed low. She looked even more vulnerable now that she had lost some of the confidence her patron’s powers had given her. The more Alan saw, the more he thought of the [Warlock] class as a trap. He wondered if it gave an edge against other classes, considering how much it took away. It made one dependent and in the case of Bonez, a slave to a higher power.

Alan had done just fine on his own. He had suffered a bit, and most of his achievements were blind luck, but… He grimaced. Maybe he should not judge others so harshly. His greatest advantage that had facilitated his survival had been that he was from a newly integrated world. It made others interested in him. Those first few meetings would’ve gone much differently if they hadn’t seen him for what he was. Novelty. The secret to his survival and growth was novelty. Alan grew frustrated at the realization.

“Are you going to be following after me all the time?” he asked as yet another group of people – a well-equipped one – glared at them. They seemed to recognize him after a moment and hurried off. Perhaps his actions had earned him a reputation, but it didn’t feel as good as one might’ve hoped. Were they afraid of what he would do to them? Curse them like Cole…

“I—I want to be useful,” the girl said from behind.

Alan sighed. “How about you go home, and after I’m done here we’ll figure out this whole thing?” I don’t need evil minions. Not that she seems particularly evil right now.

The girl seemed sad but nodded and scurried off without complaint, clutching the satchel she carried at all times like someone would steal it from her. People stepped away, making room for her to pass. There was a story there, but Alan didn’t have the energy for it.

He briefly focused on the connection to Cole. The thin string of life hadn’t grown. It was a fragile thing that barely held on, but it allowed Alan to sense its owner. He moved in that direction. It brought him to a less renewed part of the Sanctuary. Signs of combat were prevalent here, with rubble and various stains who had once come from corpses covering most everything. Melted stones, burns, spikes, and all sorts of other traces of the various used skills drew his attention.

The connection to the curse led him toward a well-preserved building. He pushed a large stone out of the way, using some of the shadows to help him. His strength alone seemed insufficient for the task, but a few extra tendril-like limbs did wonders. Blasting it apart was also always an option.

I should work on fine motor skills. Make arms. Maybe six? Each holding a weapon. Then, some golden light… Alan shook his head. He stalked through a narrow passage and down a set of crude stairs until he stopped before a dozing man. The guard started awake and stood up quickly, scrambling to reach for a mace resting at his side. He was a beaten, depressed-looking man. One of the weakest Alan had sensed since entering the Sanctuary.

Low fifties? Damn…

The man’s mouth moved but Alan was upon him too fast. “Quiet down,” he said.

The guard listened without complaint and sat down on the wooden chair. Alan walked past him shaking his head, entering a basement room that looked quite nice all things considered. Some shining balls reminiscent of the candlestones he had found so long ago gave enough light to scare away the dark. They didn’t flicker as much, which was a great improvement. Not that darkness scared him.

Inside, two pairs of eyes met his. One was Tim’s. Alan was surprised to find him here but smiled nonetheless. The other was a man Alan didn’t know but also didn’t care about.

Cole, or what remained of him was lying on a bed. His once-strong frame was gone. Thin bony limbs, without an ounce of fat or muscle, were all that remained. The man’s eyes were closed, but his unrecognizable face was still twisted in a grimace of discomfort. Of suffering.

Alan had expected to feel guilt, but it didn’t come. It was hard to imagine his skill was responsible for that. Cole’s life force had, in a way, helped him. It felt wrong to treat the man as an expendable resource, but it had been necessary at the time.

What should I do now? Ah, damn it. How do people go on about being decent and all? Uproot it all, start clean? Save the man from his suffering? Perhaps that was what he should’ve done at first.

“Alan,” Tim said. His voice was choked and trembled just a bit. “What are you doing here?”

The other man’s eyes grew wide and he reached for the sword on his belt. A well-made weapon that had a soft glow emanating from a crystal on the pommel. Was it Mr. Muge’s work or something else’s?

“Just visiting. I felt bad for how things ended last time,” Alan said. He stepped closer, ignoring the fidgety man and Tim. Up close Cole was an even sorrier picture.

Alan hesitated and then focused on the shadow inventory. The various elixirs stolen during the ritual that had given him his bloodline were still there. Was it more cruel to help Cole, and allow him to live? Alan wouldn’t remove the curse. That was out of the question. It was a contingency, a reminder. He didn’t trust himself not to draw from Cole in the future though.

I need to find some strong monsters and curse them just in case. [Sacrificial Attack] is too important a buff for my skills to neglect.

The question was whether saving Cole was a mercy or just an extension of the torture he had already inflicted. When it came to Cole he didn’t feel much guilt, only pity. Mayra had been different, but why? Because he hadn’t known her as well? He had only spoken with Cole a few times before. Was it because she was a [Warlock] and he knew what that entailed?

I should stop with the questions. Can’t beat the answers out of myself.

Extending his hand, a movement that made the two men flinch and step back, he produced a crystal bottle filled with glistening amber liquid. He hadn’t identified any of the elixirs yet, so he took out Mr. Muge’s tool.

???

Oh? That’s a surprise. Fuck it.

“Grab his head. I want him to drink this,” Alan said.

Tim obeyed without a word. Did he know what Alan was planning, or was he simply afraid?

Alan poured some of the potion into Cole’s mouth. Not all. He didn’t know how potent the liquid was, but considering what its purpose was… It was supposed to be strong.

The change was instant. Dry cracked skin regained some color. Streaks of red traveled through the following pattern of the veins. Alan closed his eyes. He could feel the movement of mana. It was everywhere all around and inside of them. But he tried to feel for something else. Life. Vitality. Unmistakable vitality. The connection with Cole’s thread of life allowed Alan to see its growth. Slowly, like a river that had been allowed to run free, the speed picked up and poured into him.

Alan doubted the potion would work the same if given to someone who hadn’t had a higher Vitality before. It was not a boost or a permanent rise of the attribute. It simply returned things to the way they were before Alan had taken them away. It was useful knowledge. With the way the world worked, Alan knew he would have to use the curse on other humans in the future.

A small voice in him awoke at the thought. What makes humans different, it asked. Alan shook his head. That was a heavy topic – one he would wrestle with in the future. For now, he observed. Like a scientist making use of a human subject, he pushed away all feelings and intrusive thoughts and ignored the whispers of the shadows that had taken on a curious, almost manic tone.

The flow of vitality was all he cared about. He ignored the ever-present mana, trying to separate it from what he wished to observe. Flow was not all about mana, after all. He had known that for a while now, and this experience allowed him to finally comprehend what it meant. While at its base, mana was the building block of most other energies he had encountered it was not everything.

Everything in the Universe was about movement. From the smallest things to the largest. All sorts of energy – mostly mana – but life as well. Vitality, pure and unmarred by external forces. It was a beautiful thing to witness, like the birth of a new life. He had lost all of his and mana sustained him just the same, and yet there was something special about life.

Something changed yet again.

Your understanding of Flow has improved.

An unexpected boon. Alan wasn’t about to complain about the means through which he had achieved this.

There was an audible gasp, and he opened his eyes. Tim was leaning over, examining Cole’s rapidly regrowing body. There was a long way to go, and the potency of the ingested potions was almost spent. Alan had only poured a small amount though. Cole himself remained unconscious even if he looked many times better.

I wonder how broken his mind would be after this… There. The guilt that hadn’t come had finally appeared. As if killing people, or torturing them, was a lesser evil than breaking their minds. Perhaps it was due to Alan’s own experiences. He had suffered long in his prison of flesh, but his mind had been a bastion no one had conquered. At least not until Florence…

Alan gestured for Tim to hold Cole’s mouth open again, and poured some more of the potion. He had plenty. Once again the liquid worked its magic. The vitality was a river now and kept growing. He left it at that, tucking the potion away. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to achieve. For all he knew when Cole woke up he could same some shit that would provoke Alan…

To heal someone just to kill them. That would be a new low. Then again, it was Cole. Alan smiled to himself, then looked toward Tim.

“Find me when he wakes. If you don’t, I’ll find you.” That ought to do it.

With a [Void Step] he left the room, not waiting to see what his words had done to the man.

Without Mayra following him, he had no need to go slow. It took him minutes to find Rosalyn perched upon the edge of a wall. Emerson was next to her, grey armor covering him. Something moved through it. Another type of mana Alan had not been able to feel as clearly before. Death?

Few other men and women stood around the two, wearing similarly solemn expressions, and starting at the same spot. One of them wore a fancy wooden rabbit mask, painted blue, a worn hoodie, and baggy pants.

Alan smelled trouble and hesitated. I’ve decided to do better… ah, damn. Me and my amazing choices… Emerson was here, and so was Rosalyn. He liked both, though Rosalyn’s class made him feel uncomfortable. Not as much as before. Now he was in a position of power, but as Jay had shown him that meant little. Other Sanctuaries had their own tier twos…

He heard Emerson speak as he neared them. “I don’t like wearing this thing. It takes me back to…” he fell silent.

“That place you don’t want to talk about? I know and I’m sorry, but having the people fear you unites them. The System makes us too individualist. Too selfish. Without Alan around you’re the next best thing to get them in order. We have to level you up and make use of your strength, and fast. We need a symbol for what is to come.”

He stepped on the wall in the next moment and barely moved in time to dodge the hand of Top Rabbit, who had flashed behind him. Using [Void Step], Alan appeared next to the man instead, tapping his shoulder in a friendly manner. It had been close.

That was fast, but I got an image to uphold, buddy. Sorry.

“What’d I miss?” he asked with what he thought was a disarming smile.