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Zeke summoned a chair from his storage space, then settled down to think. A small contingent of kobolds had taken up in the keep nearest to the dungeon, and though most of that fortification had been destroyed, there were enough intact buildings to provide a base of operations for the area. So, after exiting The Arena, Zeke had made his way to an isolated room where he could peruse his gains.

After settling into the chair, he took a look at his oft-ignored status:

In addition to the automatic allocation associated with gaining ten levels, he’d also been awarded twenty free points to use as he saw fit. Those, he split between agility, dexterity, and vitality. His intention was to keep doing that until he got all three to the fifty point threshold, then focus more on strength and endurance. Those points counted for more, and by all rights, he likely should have been allocating his free points into those categories all along. However, he'd often lamented the lopsided nature of his stat distribution, and he’d chosen to address that imbalance appropriately.

The jury was still out on whether or not that was a good decision.

“It’s not,” Eveline said.

“I’m aware of your opinions,” Zeke stated, and if he was honest, he’d let those opinions sway his thought process. Otherwise, he probably would have continued to use those free points to shore up his weaknesses rather than accentuate his strengths. In any case, Zeke had a plan, and he intended to stick with it.

After allocating his free points, he moved on to the more interesting notifications. At level sixty, he’d gained a slot for which he could create a new skill. And he’d already laid the groundwork for what he intended to build. However, before he could move on to that, he needed to choose his new Framework-granted skill that he’d been granted at level sixty-five.

The last time he’d had such a choice, he’d picked [Hell on Earth], which had already evolved into [Aura of Desolation], so his expectations were sky high for his level sixty-five skill. So, he looked at the first option with some eagerness:

[Command] (D) – You have raised a horde of loyal minions. Command them as you see fit. Upgradeable.

“Uh…”

“Yeah,” Eveline said. “That was unexpected.”

“Does it mean what I think it means?” Zeke asked.

“That depends. Do you think it means that you can effectively convert the kobolds into an unthinking horde of tame monsters?” Eveline asked. “If so, then yes.”

“Why would anyone…I mean…”

“I’ve seen skills like that,” Eveline explained. “They’re normally used by beastmaster type classes. Or necromancers, though we don’t have many of those in Hell. They don’t last long enough to find power. When they do, though, they can threaten the entire realm. I don’t need to tell you that, though. You’ve seen what an untethered necromancer can do, given enough time to grow.”

“So, if I took something like that, I could just order the kobolds to do something, and they wouldn’t have a choice but to obey?” Zeke asked. “That really doesn’t seem so different from how it already works.”

“I don’t think you understand. That skill isn’t just about giving orders. It would tie the kobolds to you in a way you can’t even understand,” Eveline answered. “It would be similar to how you bonded Pudge, though not quite as two-sided. They would be your minions in truth, living only to serve you. It’s a solid path to power, though I’m not certain if it suits your…temperament.”

“I think you’re right.”

The skill had undeniable merit. The notion of commanding an army of kobolds as if they were an extension of himself was an enticing one. Though, the fact that it came with such a steep price made it useless for Zeke. If he understood it correctly, the kobolds would cease to be individuals, returning to their unthinking past as true monsters. Every bit of work he – and the wyrm mother Mikaena – had put into ushering them to sapience would be for naught. And that was unacceptable, especially given how far some of them had come.

“Okay, so we’re not picking that one,” Eveline said. “Kind of a missed opportunity, but it’s your skillset.”

Zeke nodded, then moved on to the next option:

[Sacrifice] (C) – You have earned the adulation of an entire people. Use them to augment your power via ritual sacrifice. Upgradeable.

“Oh, come on.”

“That is extremely powerful. Many who have reached the peak use some variation of this skill,” she said. “In fact, you’ve seen one in action.”

“I have?” Zeke asked.

“In Beacon,” she answered. “Remember those people donating a stream of kill energy to the Sun Goddess?

“Vaguely.”

“Oh, come on – if I know about it, you remember it,” Eveline said with a note of exasperation. “The point is that that was only enabled by a version of [Sacrifice], though it was a variant that required a middle-man, so to speak. I’m certain that this Shar Maelaine has a more direct version as well.”

“Oh. I remember now,” Zeke said. Back then, he’d noticed priests on every corner of the city.

“My situation when you found me used something similar, though it was far removed from the base skill,” she explained. “It also utilized runecrafting and an apparatus as well, but the fundamentals remained true.”

“These options are getting more disappointing by the minute,” Zeke said. He had no intentions of siphoning power from his followers, not least because he felt that it was a little counterproductive.

“That’s not true, and you know it. As the leader, your power is what shields them from annihilation. Think about your past battles. Without you, the kobolds would have already died. So, it makes sense for them to pay a…tax, so to speak,” Eveline explained. “Though I can already tell that you’re not picking that one. Besides, if I’m reading that right, it would require you to physically sacrifice followers.”

“I have no intention of going full Aztec,” Zeke stated.

“That’s reductive and borderline offensive,” Eveline said. “And you know it is because that statement is based on your perception of –”

“Just stop. I’m not picking it. That’s all I’m saying.”

Then, he moved on to the next skill description, which at first glance seemed both better and worse than the previous options. It said:

[Benevolence] (C) – You are a wise and benevolent god. Bestow your grace upon a chosen few, granting them your attunement.

“Okay, but it is better,” Eveline said.

“Yeah. But there’s the whole ‘god’ thing,” Zeke responded. He couldn’t deny that any deific characterization made him extraordinarily uncomfortable – not least because he knew he didn’t qualify. Of course, the term seemed to be a catch-all for anyone that reached a certain level of power.

“That’s not even close to true. I’ve told you before that you have the spark of divinity.”

“And yet, you’ve never explained what that is,” Zeke responded.

“It means that you are better than most people. Call it a mark of potential, if you’re uncomfortable with the divine label. The point is that you have been marked as special by the Framework. These skill choices only confirm that,” Eveline said. “For better or worse, whether you like it or not, those kobolds worship you. Accept that and use it to your advantage. Or you’ll regret it later.”

Zeke didn’t like it, but he couldn’t really deny her reasoning. So, he pushed right past it to the skill itself. After re-reading the description, he asked, “What do you think it means?”

“Exactly what it says.”

“So, I could pick a few kobolds and just give them an earth attunement?”

“Essentially. Though I have another suggestion,” Eveline said.

“I hesitate to ask…”

“So, you know those rangers, right? The ones who like to get up close and personal?” she asked.

Zeke was well aware of that contingent of rangers. Most of that caste preferred to use bows, but there were some that habitually used their claws in devastating stealth attacks. In a way, it reminded him of how Pudge usually fought, though without the bearkin’s physical prowess. They were still deadly, though.

“I know which ones you mean.”

“Give them your demonic attunement.”

“What?”

“Start a squad of corruption-attuned kobold assassins,” she elaborated. “I don’t know how many blessings you’ll be able to bestow, but –”

“So you think I should take the third option?”

“Obviously. We both know you won’t even consider the other two,” Eveline said. “For what it’s worth, even if we push your weird moral boundaries aside, it’s the objectively best choice. I’ve never subscribed to the notion that a force was only as powerful as its leader. Numbers matter, especially with your overlapping domains. If you continue to pile advantages onto the kobolds, they will become a truly fierce force capable of taking over the world.”

“I don’t want to take over the world,” Zeke countered.

“He says while fighting a war of conquest against a kingdom that only attacked after you invaded their territory,” Eveline said.

“That’s different.”

“It’s really not. You have your reasons, and I agree with them. But the fact remains that if you had never set foot in Adontis, you would not be fighting a war right now,” Eveline said. “Sure, freeing slaves and liberating peasants gives you moral justification, but that was not the initial goal. If you look at it objectively, their most important sin – among many, granted – was being in your way.”

“That’s not…”

Zeke trailed off. The fact was that there was a lot of truth to Eveline’s assessment. He wanted to look at it like he’d stepped into Adontis with liberation on his mind, but that simply wasn’t how it had happened. His initial idea was to simply cross the kingdom so he could reunite with Talia. But somewhere along the way, he’d gotten so sidetracked that his goals had shifted entirely. Now, he didn’t intend to move on until he’d defeated all of Adontis.

But he still didn’t count world domination among his goals.

“Until you see something that you can’t accept. Then, all bets are off, huh?” Eveline pointed out. “Or did you think slavery was uncommon in this world? Or in the absence of that, what about exploitation and oppression? By those standards, you would have been fighting wars in your old world, as well.”

“It’s not like that. You make me sound like I’m some squeaky clean white knight or something,” Zeke muttered aloud. “I’m not. I just want –”

“I know what you want,” Eveline said, manifesting physically. She put her hands on her hips and went on, “But what you want and what you do aren’t always the same thing. I’m fine with who you are, by the way. It’s refreshing, seeing how worked up you get when you see something that violates your shifting code of ethics. But you can’t keep lying to yourself and saying that it’s going to end. We both know it won’t. After Adontis, you’re going to find someone else to fight. Some other form of oppression to battle. Because it’s not about those things. They’re just excuses.”

“For what?”

“To fight. To win. To progress. That’s your ultimate goal,” Eveline answered. “You care about the kobolds and the beastkin and all the peasants you’ve freed. I know that. But you care about fighting a lot more.”

Zeke wanted to argue with that, but he couldn’t fool himself into believing any refute.

“Even more than progression, which is insane to me,” Eveline said. “Most people would have been raring to look at their skill choices the moment they were available. Yet, with you, it was almost like you were putting it off. You don’t really care about the skills, in and of themselves. Just how much they help you fight.”

To that, Zeke shrugged. “I don’t see that they have much point otherwise,” he admitted.

“And that’s exactly what I’m saying. It’s fine, though. But to get back to our previous discussion before we got derailed – yes, I advise you to take [Benevolence], then use it to bestow your demonic attunement onto some kobolds. I like the assassin idea, but you could just as easily give it to a few centurions. Or to those spiritweavers. That could be…interesting, to say the least.”

“What about my plans for the level sixty skill?” Zeke asked.

“It’s passable.”

“That’s it? I’ve been working on it for a while, now,” he said.

“No – it’s fine. I think it could help.”

“But?”

“I have no objections,” Eveline stated. “Mobile opponents are an issue for you. This new idea will serve to alleviate that weakness. If it was me, I would create a massive skill that could destroy whole armies, but…well, you don’t have the mana for that. Yet.”

Zeke nodded. He’d heard that more than once, and if he was honest, Zeke liked the idea of a devastating, large scale skill. However, that wasn’t his role. Nor did the idea of laying acres of land to waste appeal to him. Sure, it was coming. He knew that with his escalating power, such things were expected.

Still, it was not the time for that sort of thing.

“If it makes any difference to you, the sorts of skills you were just offered aren’t usually available so early,” Eveline said. “From my experience, people don’t normally get those kinds of skills until they approach the peak. Or after they descend.”

“Ascend,” Zeke pointed out. “I’m not going back to Hell unless I have to.”

“Well, you still need a corrupted natural treasure, and that won’t be available in Heaven,” Eveline reminded him. “So, you will have to get over that aversion sooner or later. In the meantime, I’d advise you to choose your skill, then get to work finishing the other addition to your powers.”

Zeke nodded, then chose [Benevolence]. After that, he closed his eyes and got to work doing as she’d suggested. He’d already built the foundations, and he’d even put together the bulk of the structure. Still, Zeke expected it would take at least another week of constant work in order to complete his other new skill. Once that was done, he’d have no excuse but to finish the war he’d begun – one way or another.

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