4.21

“People point to a Traveller’s immortality as the greatest reason to fear them. Once upon a time, I thought so too, but speaking with them and learning of their tales I have learnt better. Travellers battle undying monstrosities, have warred across countless realms for reasons inane and have created and mastered more types of weapons and styles than one can even conceive. They thrive in a world wrecked and destroyed long ago. Nay, I do not fear Travellers because they cannot die.

 

I fear them because they are insane even without it.” - Verron Pluton the Suffering Sage. 

 

I had accepted the outcome. 

 

Checking my friend’s list before I set out, I learned that Noam had survived somehow. He was far enough away that he could’ve gotten out when rocks started falling. 

 

It seemed others were not as fortunate. 

 

Naukoth’s body was laid on the ground outside the cave, near the camp. His head was popped and Analyse told me most of his bones were broken. 

 

The healer was dead as well, his blood unseen on his red robes. 

 

The rogue girl, Rifter was it? Her corpse only had a small blanket, not enough to conceal a shard of stone lodged inside her head. An unfortunate side effect of her skill, getting stunned. 

 

Torrin’s body was slightly better, in well enough form a healer had to declare her dead instead of knowing at a look. Her friend with the absurdly long name cried while the other one was still receiving treatment.

 

The bodies of the other two were splayed out next to the others. Dead long before I got to them.

 

It was a strange thing, looking at corpses.

 

Intellectually, I understood the normal reaction would be weeping, some type of sadness, anything really. 

 

But I barely knew them, not even a few hours, so why cry at a stranger’s death?

 

And even if I did cry, what was the point of it, if it does not change anything? 

 

Crying for crying’s sake? A good enough reason for some, but not for me. 

 

Inside me, there was only a familiar emptiness.

 

Still, I knelt over Naukoth’s corpse. Just the feeling of needing to do something moving my actions. 

 

“You were the most useful there,” I whispered. 

 

It was not a lie, a plus-four buff to strength and agility was a significant enough amount to our front line that I relied on a DPS cycling method, rather than riskier approaches. Thanks to him I only needed minor corrections to maintain an effective frontline. I also learned through his buffs that stats indeed grew linearly, something that would’ve taken much longer if I had relied on natural levelling or comparing different people when different factors such as weight or race affected the effectiveness of stats across people. For example, the translation of strength between Noam and I was not linear, since I lack so much weight I could not hold my ground the same way he could even if I had the same amount of strength. 

 

I stood up, a slight clamour had occurred as a woman in robes embroidered with a golden symbol of a coin stood up. Her hand was raised, an uncut diamond held within.

 

“Raise Dead.” 

 

The diamond disappeared, breaking into dust and one of the corpses breathed once more. He was one of the already dead ones who contributed nothing to the fight. 

 

The woman bowed, “Welcome back to the living realm Master Tagron. The bill will be sent to your father.” 

 

She left, leaving the dead man rasping on the ground. Not even a glance towards the other corpses. 

 

“That was a priest of Ethelinda I believe.”

 

One of only two religions with access to resurrection magic, the other being Light.

 

“It is a rare thing to resurrect the dead,” the grey-skinned Vice Guildmaster said behind me. “Probably less so for people like you who get it for free.” 

 

Her tone was not accusing, simply stating a fact. 

 

“Indeed.” 

 

The resurrected man finally got his bearings, he stood up, face with shock and relief, before it turned to anger as he looked at the other person

 

“Piece of shit!” he kicked the corpse. “Some bodyguard you are!” 

 

It took him a moment to stop, angrily huffing and puffing. His maddened eyes passed us for a moment before he scoffed and began to walk away. Though not before spitting on Naukoth’s corpse once. 

 

He did not get far, as Noam’s blade was held to his neck. 

 

His breath fastened, panic set in. He wasn’t a combatant, his armour was well made but new and barely used. He had a holstered weapon in his belt, but his hand did not immediately go to it. 

 

“Wha- What do you want! Are you going to assassinate the son of a noble in broad daylight!” 

 

Noam didn’t answer, instead, looking questioningly at me. 

 

“Getting a murder charge isn’t worth it,” I answered. 

 

Noam withdrew his sword, sheathing it before spitting at the noble. 

 

“Gaah! Disgusting hellspawn, tame your attack dog you creature-”

 

“Would you shut up?” I asked, taking a step forward. Slowing closing in on him. 

 

“My current interactions with you only include you being a useless corpse and spitting on someone who gave his life to defend yours.” 

 

I stopped, directly in front of him. I was short enough that I had to look up, but still, I locked eyes with him. 

 

“All of which points to you being a net negative on existence,” I said, my tone cold and calm. “And the most logical way to deal with those is to remove it. So please leave before I decide you’re my problem.” 

 

What a useless thing, how much air and resources were wasted on this creature? He opened his mouth to speak, but he saw something in me and he ran. 

 

“Hmm, not bad,” the Vice-Guildmaster said. “I always thought they were full of it.”

 

“Do you have anything relevant to add, Ms Guildmaster?” I asked. 

 

“Nope, just want to give you two some things,” she cheerfully said, “I saw some great things today, so I hurried it up.” 

---

The drow Vice Guildmaster gestured to the two of them to follow to a place quiet, before throwing two bronze objects at them. Noam caught it in the air, whereas the bronze plate slapped onto Dustin’s face before falling to the ground. 

 

Noam glanced at his while Dustin picked his own up. 

 

‘Noam (Traveler)

Skirmisher 6

Voice 3.’

 

“Saw?” Dustin asked as he brushed off his tag. 

 

“Yep,” she answered, “you may not know this, but every now and again we hold promotion tests. The tell is the upfront payment, mercs who’ve already done it know to avoid it.” 

 

“So that cultist in there was one of yours?” 

 

She chuckled, “Oh no. The quest was real, one of the guilds just applied to put it as the test. They get some cheap labour and you guys get work experience. Win win.” 

 

“I see,” Dustin sighed, “I suppose there is still much to learn.” 

 

“There’s always something else,” she agreed. “You guys did a lot more than was expected, killing that guy was considered a CR 20 quest, you just needed to kill a few chimeras and get back.”

 

“I see.”

 

Almost absentmindedly, she added, “Oh yeah, and I almost forgot to give this back.” 

 

The drow reached into her robes, pulling out a bag. Opening it and passing something to Dustin. 

 

Dustin froze as he received it. Greenie, asleep and unmoving. 

 

“Is he…” Noam began.

 

“Yes,” Dustin answered, pushing the small mushroom into his cap. “It is just sleep.” 

 

Dustin’s tone swiftly turned frigid as he asked the next question, “Did you interfere with it getting assistance?” 

 

She mulled it over for a moment, “Yes I suppose, but it wouldn’t have come either way.” 

 

“And why is that?” 

 

Noam recognised Dustin’s anger. Not the fake anger, where he yelled and acted angrily, but the real one, where he was cold, and any emotion he felt was crushed and made to fuel a logical purpose. Unlike most, when Declan was truly angry, he did not feel a single sliver of wrath.

 

“It was your test, and I would’ve much liked to see how far you would’ve gotten on your own.”

 

“By your own admission, we had already surpassed whatever expectations you held. That should’ve proved sufficient for the test.”

 

“And did you want to settle on that?” she asked. “Have the moment of excellence stolen from you?”

 

“Less people would’ve died. It would’ve been a significantly better use of human resources.” 

 

“Truly? You just saw the fool over there, blaming others for his mistake, would it have been better to use one life to save him? If a person deserved their life saved, then they would do it themselves.” 

 

“You are utilising a straw man argument, tell me, would it have been worth it to save one of the other corpses?”

 

She considered it for a moment, “Perhaps the sorcerer, but she was not good at using her power. You, a stranger, was even better at managing her mana than she was, and she died because of it.” 

 

“She could’ve improved.” 

 

“But she didn’t when it mattered,” she answered. “So she died. Understand that if a creature doesn’t get past their own weakness, then they can’t improve. The betters evolve and surpass.” 

 

For a moment, Dustin just stared at her, before his mouth opened and a laugh sounded out. Hearty and mirthful and so very fake. Even in real life, his laugh was slightly fucked up. Bit too guttural and insane. 

 

He abruptly stopped as he slammed his staff into the ground. 

 

“Evolution is a flawed method of improvement. It creates organisms that fit a particular niche, over specialisation leading to a weakness to change. After a significant amount of environmental change, the whole ecosystem will collapse. Leaving only generalists, which leads to the whole thing repeating as they take up different niches. I don’t know how or if evolution here works similarly to my world, but the greatest thing it has done is create generalists and that is not a particularly great achievement.” 

 

“So tell me, if you have a single good reason for wasting these people?” 

 

For the first time, the drow began to frown, before her presence expanded and darkness seemed to wrap all around them.

 

Noam’s eyes widened, his breath fastened as he dipped to a combat stance, one ready to fight or run. 

 

Next to him, Dustin staggered, “Wha- what is that?” 

 

He needed a distraction, in a single smooth motion he drew a dagger and threw it at the drow. Yet it passed through her harmlessly. There was a point directly behind him where he felt no threat, that was the safe path. He willed his legs to run, but they refused to move.

 

“Answer me!” 

 

Noam knew, he’s felt this before. “You know how I described the other guy as an icicle up your ass?” 

 

“Yes?” 

 

“Dis is the whole focking freezer.” 

 

Dustin’s body was almost frozen, “Your tell is showing. Your accent.” 

 

‘Speak for yourself, idiot,’ Noam thought, noting his sudden over analysation. 

 

The presence withdrew, leaving only the drow. She didn’t look intimidating, being shorter and less muscular than him, yet Noam regarded her with renewed caution. This was an opponent that needed that to be beaten. 

 

She spoke again, her tone quiet and threatening, “In those five seconds I could’ve killed the both of you.” 

 

Neither of them said anything, for it was true. 

 

“How many of you would it have taken to land even a scratch on me? Numbers would not have mattered. It is simply a question of strength. If you don’t have it the moment it matters, then it simply won’t matter. So think before you speak, you spoiled immortals, who get to try again and again, on what point there is in saving people who don’t have power when it matters.” 

 

“And I thought you were cool, but you’re just a bitch aren’t you?” 

 

“Six people.”

 

Both Noam and the drow blinked as Dustin said that.

 

“Naukoth with his AOE buffs was worth at least six other people,” when he spoke, it was a calm and calculated thing. With no emotion, as if simply speaking fact. “He had power and at a place where it was sorely needed. If he were not there, we would not have held as we did without six other people.” 

 

“An extreme specialist like him, I agree, had severe weak points. But the whole point of moving in groups is to make up every members’ collective weak points, and you actively impeded that.” 

 

“Then get stronger and make it up yourself,” she shrugged as if it were the most obvious thing.

 

Noam paused, looking at the drow while she and Dustin went back and forth. ‘Extreme specialist…’ Dustin mentioned something about a balanced system, where conditions mattered more than strengths. There was a strange thing when she expanded her presence. Slowly, and carefully, he drew a dagger. 

 

‘God I hope I am right.’

 

“If you cannot put your own beliefs to work then why spout them?”

 

“Do I literally need to shove Plato’s Republic up your-”

 

“Hey,” Noam interrupted. “Remember that question you asked?” he directed to the Vice Guildmaster. 

 

“What question-”

 

Before she could finish, Noam in a swift and smooth motion threw the dagger directly behind himself. 

 

There was a sound like fizzling mist as the illusion shattered, revealing an exact copy of the drow behind them. ‘No, not copy. That is the original one.’ 

 

Genuine surprise was on her face as the dagger thudded into the ground behind her, leaving a shallow cut on her robes. 

 

“To answer your question on how many of us it would take to put a scratch on you.” 

 

The illusion behind them disappeared, as Noam spoke to the real one this time. 

 

“The answer is two.” 

 

She blinked back surprise and shock. “How?” she asked, tone disbelieving, “Neither of you should be capable of seeing through illusions.”

 

There was surprise on Dustin’s woody face, but it quickly receded, as he too turned around fully. ‘Deliver the one-liner! Deliver the one-liner-’

 

 “Do you know the term, crouching tiger, hidden dragon?”

 

‘Yes!’

 

“Well,” Noam smiled, face smug, “say hello to the tiger.”

---

The Vice-Guildmaster left soon after, leaving me to my thoughts.

 

Noam spoke first, “Well she’s a bitch.”

 

“Understatement of the century,” I replied, “but more importantly…” “How did you know she was really behind us?” 

 

Noam shrugged, “It was a hunch, isn’t she an illusionist? I figured it was strange her fear thing covered every direction except directly behind us. Like she was just asking someone to run there.” 

 

“I see.” 

 

Noam’s eyes looked distant for a moment, staring towards the direction of Naukoth, “So he’s…” 

 

“Dead. I have confirmed it,” I answered. 

 

He sighed, “That sucks, he was cool as well. Stupid, bringing a whole ass piano into battle, but I could respect that.” 

 

“Wait a moment,” I said. 

 

My arm fumbled into my cap, looking for something, before withdrawing it, a single golden coin. 

 

“Let’s exhaust our options first.” 

 

I flicked the coin, and the door appeared. 

 

We entered, a Dave appearing for each of us. Noam, the unconscious Greenie and me. He didn’t bother for theatrics this time, simply showing us a scroll. 

 

‘T5 Raise Dead (One use)

Returns a dead creature to life, provided that it has been dead no longer than 10 days and if the creature’s soul is both willing and at liberty to rejoin the body.

8,000,000,000 Gold’

 

“Jesus Christ that is a high ass cost.” 

 

“Impossible then,” I muttered, “we cannot realistically raise the funds within ten days.”

 

‘And why should we?’ I left unsaid. 

 

“Why is the cost of that so fucking high mate?” Noam demanded.

 

The tiefling Dave sighed sadly, “The rules are I have to keep to what the prices most realistically are. It is simply because the cost of resurrection has been greatly inflated.”

 

“Why?” 

 

I knew the answer to that. “Only two groups have access to resurrection type spells. Three if you count Druidic reincarnation. But the only group willing to share are the Mercantile Church, who charge a premium. Not only that, it consumes a diamond and those are artificially made valuable by the Deep Imperium, who control the flow of them to the surface world.”

 

“In short,” I summarised, “control by both those capable of doing it, and those capable of supplying the needed materials.”

 

The myconid Dave nodded, “Osshiven’Kai could provide resurrection.” 

 

I raised an eyebrow, ‘I did not know that.’

 

That would be interesting, but not what we needed. Shaking my head, I said, “No, that isn’t a good method, the last time a major follower of Osshiven’Kai was found the Inquisition burnt down everything within a twenty kilometre radius, and frankly that wasn’t an overreaction if what I read was true.” 

 

“So you’re saying it’s impossible without a diamond?”

 

Myconid Dave raised an eyebrow, “I believe the Magus Smar Da Ten Yu figured out a method without needing them, but she was assassinated shortly after, so the knowledge is lost.” 

 

Noam didn’t even react to the stupid pun that made every Magus’s title. “What about Wayshards?” 

 

“Not diamond,” I answered, “believe me, much smarter people than either of us have tried.” 

 

Despite this world’s magic system being rather soft, costs and conditions are literally hard coded into it. It wouldn’t be easy to overcome them. At the very least, not something we could accomplish within ten days. 

 

Noam sighed, before lethargically punching my arm, “Thanks for raising my hope asshole.” 

 

I didn’t answer.

 

“Perhaps the Adept Battle Caster feat?” Declan posed. “You could realistically level and buy that feat within ten days.”

 

“Raise Dead is a ritual spell, same with Reincarnate. Even if it did work, we don’t know the mana increase for removing a vital component of a spell. There is a very possible chance that we straight up won’t have the mana for it. Not to mention both are tier five spells, something we don’t even have access to yet. At level four our class still only has tier two spells, realistically we need to get to level nine to even access them. By then, the ten day time limit would have passed.”

 

Declan too went silent after that. 

 

“Let’s leave, Matt.” 

 

His face was in his hands, but when I spoke he answered, “Give me a moment.” 

 

He pushed his hands up until they went over his forehead. Slicking his hair back, Noam smiled weakly at me. “Let’s go.” 

 

I made my way towards the door, knowing better than to look at him.

 

“Wait a moment,” Noam stopped me again. 

 

“How much does this cost?” he asked, holding up another scroll.

We both left, though only Noam bought something. Pocketing the spell scroll, he had an evil, scheming look to his face. I had a fairly good idea on where he wanted to use it and had already made preparations for it. 

 

But until then, we were both free.

 

“Noam?”

 

“Yeah?” he asked, an eyebrow raised. 

 

I looked to the sky, it was noon now and the sun was passing. Even now, I could see stars blinking in the sky. 

 

“You know what I think about doing things.”

 

“...Yeah?” he answered with hesitance. 

 

“So I want to ask you this again,” I said, repeating an old question. “Is there any worth in doing anything?” 

 

At a base, logical and materialistic level, nothing a single sapient creature does will ever truly matter. I could disappear from this world and all traces of me were removed and the world would keep moving on. Even if I accomplished great things, there will come a time where it’ll not matter. Where it’ll be forgotten or gone. Perhaps the Deadhand finally destroys the world, or maybe our sun explodes, or maybe even heat death or a million other things. There will come a point where anything humanity has ever achieved will not matter. So why achieve anything at all?

 

“Of course there is,” he replied, patting me on the back. 

 

I did not believe him, but still, I spoke, “I see, then…”

 

I paused, thinking for a long moment as I stared at the sky.

 

Nothing I do in my time will matter in the end. I have no reason to try, no reason to be here, no reason to be friends with people. All I have is some vague animalistic instinct that I pleasure occasionally by gaining money, min-maxing and outsmarting idiots. 

 

I enjoy those things, but if all I wanted was to satisfy my desire, I could be like sixty percent of the population and permanently strap on a VR helmet, living off a U.B.I for the rest of my life.

 

So why am I here?

 

For a moment, it felt like there was another hand on my shoulder. “The only reason that seems to matter,” Declan said, sympathetic in a way no-one else could ever be.

 

“I feel…” I thought about my words, whether I truly felt what I was feeling before carefully, I spoke. “I believe I feel motivated now.” “Or at the very least annoyed.” 

 

“I disagreed with her,” I continued, my voice quiet and introspective, “on a fundamental level, I cannot agree with that sort of ideology, so I wish to prove her wrong.”

 

There was a slow, pregnant pause, as Noam simply stared at me, wide eyed. Then, slowly he laughed, the sound long, sharp and loud. 

 

He heartily slapped me on the back. “Finally! I thought you went off and died on me already! What are we doing? Clearing an impossible boss? Beating the shit out of someone we don’t like?”  

 

“Getting influence, power, ideally some that aren’t just from the innate fact we are Travellers.” 

 

“And how are we gonna do it?” he asked, his poised relaxed, yet anticipating. 

 

“What can two idiots who are only particularly good at playing games, particularly MMOs, do to gain real influence?” I asked, only half rhetorically. 

 

Noam furrowed his brow, thinking about it for a moment, “Killing stuff…? No, too obvious, unless…” his lips parted into a wide smile. “How many?” 

 

I thought about it for a moment, trying to think of the optimal number. “At the very minimum, a full raid.” 

 

Noam chuckled, “Aiming to be the best are we?”

 

“Only needs to be above average. A passing score worthy of imitation,” I replied. I don’t need to do it well, or perfectly, just good enough. 

 

We don’t have to be better, we just had to set a trend that others will imitate. 

 

“Still gotta aim for the best!” he cheered, slapping me on the back once again, “You aren’t allowed to half-ass this now!” 

 

He looked around us, at the moving pieces of the Ivory Tower guild around us. Before, it was mostly a glance of curiosity, but now, there was a new look.

 

Now, he saw them as competition.

 

“Indeed. A guild shouldn’t be half-assed.”

 

Prologue End