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Chapter 24 - The Prince and The Fool
🕑 Added 2022-12-15 00:23:16 +0000 UTCLan didn't much like the desert. There was nothing to see, nothing to do except trudge through the shifting sands. He felt like the more effort he put in and the harder he tried to walk, the more difficult making progress became.
He set foot on a nondescript patch of sand, which erupted. A black scorpion tail lashed towards him like a streak of dark lightning.
'Again… There's got to be a better way to do this,'
He batted the tail away and stomped on the scorpion that had only half emerged from its hiding spot. This was not the first time Lan had killed one of these things.
Alert: Killed Lvl: 5 Pit Scorpion – Experience gained
It wasn't even enough experience to shift the scales, negligible to the point of uselessness. 'Maybe I'm just too used to getting loads of Exp from killing higher levelled monsters. But if that's the case, I want to keep hunting like that. Fighting loads of little monsters is too slow. Unless I get a skill like George's, I'm going to stick to things around my level, if not higher,'
"It would be quicker if I could avoid these things altogether. Come on, there must be a way, think," Lan continued walking as he pondered possible solutions. "It would be fine if I could just run past them, but the sand slows me down a lot. And although they are pretty weak, they're quick as shit, making them impossible to completely ignore,"
"Gah, there's got to be a better way to do this," Lan scratched his head, trying to figure out a way to avoid the scorpions, "Or… what if instead of avoiding them, I provoke them early, before I even get there. The same way people deal with landmines. If I could find a way to set off the scorpions before I get there, it would be much easier to avoid them."
He thought about using sand as a medium to conduct mana, but it didn't work out how he wanted. The sand had nothing connecting the individual grains, meaning it was even more challenging to manipulate than pure air. However, Lan didn't see the experiment as useless since he was always happy to learn more about his skills.
The problem with deserts is that there is nothing in them. Just sand and the blazing sun. Here, Lan had no mediums to manipulate, whether or not he wanted to.
'I could cut my robe into strips and use that… But I would rather not walk about naked in a desert. The only other thing I have to work with is the scorpion's body, but that isn't really of much help to me,'
He took a deep breath and readied himself, "Looks like I will be using air this time,"
After he began walking again, Lan created invisible strings of air, using them to lash the sand a few metres in front of him. Which immediately became more of a hindrance than a help. The impacts blew sand into his mouth and eyes, raising dust clouds into the air.
"Fuck this," Lan spat, throwing caution to the wind. "I'll outrun the bastards!"
Taking off in a dead sprint, Lan stuck to the tops of the dunes, where there were fewer scorpions. Any that he did come across were destroyed with a swift kick. Like a skipping stone, he skimmed across the surface of the desert, practically flying towards the distant pyramid.
The golden tip of the red pyramid peeked out over the tops of even the tallest dunes. On the enormous sandstone slabs, Lan could make out ornate carvings. Carvings that were all too familiar. 'That must be the next cargo; if it goes by the previous trend, it'll probably be another elemental title. But what could it be here… Is sand an element?'
He arrived at the pyramid after a few more minutes of travel. Standing atop a towering dune, he gazed down into the valley the archaic monument lay in. Beside the red pyramid, an enormous sphinx carved from golden sandstone waited patiently, its eyes following Lan along the top of the dune.
"There you are…." Lan locked eyes with the Sphinx, waving.
It released a low rumble, shifting its colossal bulk. The force rushed through the ground like an earthquake, dislodging sand from atop dunes and creating mini avalanches throughout the desert.
"Challenger, you have come…." It growled. Its voice was deep and scarily human.
"You speak?" Lan asked, shocked. The last monster he heard speak was the ant queen.
'Shit, it's not as strong as that thing, is it?' Lan anxiously checked its level. He heaved a sigh of relief when he saw that it was only one level higher than the Archeopteryx.
Alert: Lvl: 15 Sphinx
"I have a riddle for you, challenger," It boomed.
"Uh, huh," Lan nodded, 'Did it just ignore me?'
"What-"The Sphinx began.
"Oi, I said something to you," Lan shouted, checking to see if it would react. But its stony gaze remained placid, robotic even. It simply began its riddle again.
"What goes on four legs in- "
"Ugh, I'm not answering some riddle," Lan grunted, running down the side of the dune and darting towards the Sphinx.
He stopped in front of the hulking statue, gazing up at its human face. As he neared, the beast got to its feet, standing on four feline legs. Every aspect of its body was so intricately carved that now that it was moving, Lan had trouble believing it wasn't a living creature.
"What goes on four legs in the morning, two legs in- "
Lan dashed past the Sphinx, running towards the nearby pyramid.
"I did not say you could pass!" The monster bellowed, turning its massive body to chase Lan.
"And I didn't say I'd do your riddle!" Lan replied, quickly arriving at the foot of the pyramid. He placed his hand on the hot, red stone, warmed by the blazing sun. Nothing happened. Even after channelling mana, the result was the same.
"Great," Lan grumbled, turning to glance at the Sphinx that was barrelling towards him. Its huge lion paws were like an excavator, scooping vast mounds of sand out of the desert floor as it ran.
'Where could it be…?' He glanced up at the top of the pyramid, where the final block was obscured by the sun, 'Let me guess, it's up there. The system never makes things easy, does it?'
Lan bounded up the side of the pyramid, leaping two huge blocks at a time as he skipped towards the top. Behind him, the Sphinx stopped at the foot of the pyramid, gazing up at him. "You cannot be there!" It roared, receiving no response.
Ignoring the Sphinx, Lan continued to climb, quickly arriving at the top. Coated in a thick layer of gold, the cap was opulent beyond imagination, shining lustrously beneath the bright desert sun. Seeing the familiar carvings inlaid on the gold, Lan smiled, discharging his mana into the pyramid cap.
Just like the obelisk, the gold began to shine, blue lines of mana running down its surface and covering the pyramid in a beautiful array. The rays of light converged again at the top, projecting a sparkling diamond in the cloudless sky.
"Wow," Lan was stunned by the multicoloured light distorted by the diamond. Suddenly, the diamond began to spin, focusing the glowing light on his chest. 'Here it comes,' Lan readied himself, trying to guess what the title would be.
Cargo retrieved; the train is waiting.
Alert: Temporary title acquired – Gaia's brood
Effects: Increased affinity and resistance to earth.
Note: Blessing removed on failure to pass the fourth step.
When it was done, Lan turned back down the pyramid, smiling at Sphinx, which hadn't budged from its spot. Its stony gaze was fixed on him, unmoving, unblinking.
"Now, let's get this over with," He cracked his knuckles as he began to sprint down the pyramid, picking up speed as he went.
The Sphinx made eye contact with him, beginning to repeat its riddle, "What goes on four legs in the morning, two in the afternoon and three in the evening…."
"Fuck you! I didn't go to school," Lan yelled, jumping from the pyramid and crashing down onto the Sphinx's back. Splinters ran across its craggy back as a sharp, splintering crack rang out.
"Wrong." The Sphinx rumbled, opening its mouth. "The answer was-"
"Shut up!" Lan bellowed, pounding his fist on the giant monster's back. Every blow caused a deep fracture to run through its rocky body.
"Man…" Another blow landed on the back of its head, shaking the colossal monster's body. "Since the riddle was answered incorrectly, your life is forfeit!"
Its mouth agape, an endless wave of pitch-black scorpions poured from its face, spilling from its mouth and eyes onto the sands below. The clacking claws and snapping teeth were deafening as the scorpions attacked everything that moved, the Sphinx, Lan and even each other.
Lan activated mana strings, attaching fifty to the base of his scythe. Even fifty mana strings conducted through the air weren't as strong as ten through water or five through the vine, but they didn't need to be strong. They just needed to keep the scorpions off him long enough to finish off the Sphinx.
The scythe whirled around him like a helicopter blade, eviscerating any insects that got close. Notifications quickly piled up as he fought, countless scorpions falling beneath his hooked blade. Not that Lan cared.
He was too busy stomping on the back of the Sphinx's neck. Time and again, he rained down blow after blow, widening the cracks in its rocky body. When the fracture was large enough to put his hands in, he reached down, grabbing either side of the gap in the rock.
With a heave, Lan wrenched at the crack, roaring as he pulled it apart with all his strength. In response, the Sphinx bellowed, sending an abhorrent torrent of scorpions crashing down on him.
While his scythe took care of its newest attackers, Lan pressed his feet against the crack pushing it wider with everything he had. Finally, he heard splintering rock and a mighty crash as the huge head landed on the ground below, crushing countless scorpions into a paste.
"Finally," Lan heaved for breath, surveying the carnage around him.
Alert: Killed Lvl: 15 Sphinx – Experience gained (Bonus due to level difference)
Level up!
"It's about time," Lan grinned, "I'm looking forward to those forty-five extra stat points!"
As Lan thrived in the deadly challenge, the tutorial ground was in turmoil. A new threat had emerged.
***
The Fool liked the look on people's faces when he returned the second time. It was always the same. A sprinkle of confusion, a dash of disbelief, and a pinch of terror. They combined into a beautiful, addicting recipe he couldn't get enough of.
It was about to happen again, and he just couldn't wait.
Dashing between the shadows of houses, he followed his killer. The memory of the arrow ramming through the side of his head was excruciating, seared forever into his brain by the endless times he relived it.
His talent was valuable, unimaginably so. It had let him rise up in barely a few days, growing at unheard-of speeds. But it sure as hell hurt.
Fool me Once let him learn everything about whatever had killed him. But that process wasn't as simple as just suddenly attaining the information. His death was repeated endlessly in his mind, showing all the possible ways he could have died and all the pain he could have felt. He relived this death over and over, again and again, until he could beat it.
This time, it had taken him thirty-three tries to beat the man with the bow. Twice as long as any other. But that was because Mr bow had a secret weapon. Of course, The Fool knew this. He knew everything.
The unsuspecting bowman was heading out for the night, taking a trip through the forest while the night drones were out.
'He must be on the King of the Night's team, same as me. Perfect. The second he leaves the safe zone, I'll get back my points,'
Night wasn't as dark as it used to be in the tutorial thanks to what the pathfinders had taken to calling this the Moon. The glowing silvery rock hung motionless above everything, shining stark white light down on the whole tutorial. Beside the Moon, a grotesquely colossal insect hung down from a silken string. It was motionless, still as a statue, wrapped in a pristine silken cocoon.
'Just how the hell are we supposed to kill that thing?' The Fool wondered, shaking his head. Everyone already knew about the Farmer's complete lack of interest in the actual tutorial objective, so for the most part, people on his team had given up.
Except for George. The Fool had only seen him once, from a distance. He was shadowed by a hulking giant of a man, laying waste to a vast swathe of trees, ripping them up like twigs in a tornado.
'Oh, I really want to fight him,' He was itching to try but knew his limits, 'How many replays would I need? Thousands, maybe even tens of thousands, if it's even possible at all. No, I need to level up first, take everything I can from the dregs and move my way up the ladder. George is the peak of the mountain, and everyone else is just the stairs I'll use to get there,'
It was simple, really, the more times the Fool died, the more weapons he mastered, and the better he got at fighting. He didn't care about a fight he could win easily because then he had nothing to learn. The way he saw the Archer he was chasing was like an exam.
His death and subsequent revisions of it were a practice run. Then, to prove that he had really learnt how to beat the Archer, he had to do it for real.
The man had now stepped out of the barricade, making a beeline for the tree cover while constantly checking for an ambush. He was good. Hiding his tracks and sticking to the shadows, anyone who didn't know he was coming would never see him. But the Fool did; he had been following the Archer for half an hour and wasn't about to lose him now.
'I can't wait to see it~' He had to hold back giggles as he drifted between the trees closing in on his prey.
Finally, the man arrived at a clearing and turned, glaring back into the pitch-black forest.
"I know you're there; you've been following me for five minutes,"
'Wrong,' The Fool smirked, watching the idiot look the completely wrong way.
The Archer shifted, going for his bow.
Like a bolt from the blue, the Fool broke from the tree cover, hurling a rock at the man's head. Of course, the Archer dodged the rock, but that was the point. If he was dodging, he couldn't get to his bow.
'Just like I practised, I'll get in close, and when he goes for it, I'll step off,'
They tumbled to the ground, rolling to a stop by a boulder. The Fool got up first, burying a kick in the man's stomach. Groaning, the man grabbed the foot before it could retreat, yanking the Fool forward.
'Idiot, that's what I want,'
As he fell down towards the man, the Fool produced a rock, slamming it into the fist coming up to greet him.
'He won't be drawing a bow with that hand anytime soon,'
Cursing, the man reached into his robe, "I didn't want to use this," He shouted, glaring up at… nobody.
The Fool had vanished, and the Archer was left holding a live grenade. Not a mechanical grenade but one formed from mana. When it exploded, it would shred anything within five metres, and most of the times the Fool had died, this grenade was the culprit.
So, he hid, ducking into the forest.
Standing dumbfounded, holding a ticking time bomb, the Archer spun, desperately trying to find his target. If he couldn't find his enemy before the grenade exploded, he would have to throw the damn thing away, wasting his surprise weapon. It took half an hour to make just one, and this was all he had left, having used up his arsenal on the sheer steps platform.
As the timer ticked down, he got progressively more desperate, roaring, "Come out and face me, you coward!"
"What do you think I am?" A voice drifted from the dense forest, the location impossible to pinpoint, "Stupid?"
"I said come out and face me!" Screamed the Archer, his eyes bloodshot. He knew he was outside the safe zone, which meant that if he died, he would lose every single point. Being someone who barely scraped the top five hundred on the King of the Night's side, he couldn't afford to lose any points if he wanted to make it to the top one hundred.
This was the part the Fool loved the most. Watching his prey fumble, unable to do anything after he had nullified their every move.
Time moved relentlessly forward, and the Archer had no choice but to throw the grenade, taking a wild guess and chucking it into the trees. A bright blue explosion ripped apart the silence of the night, lighting up the dark forest, but there was no one there.
The second he had thrown the grenade, distracted by the flash, the Fool snuck up behind him. He grabbed an arrow from the Archer's quiver, driving it into the back of his neck just like he had practised.
As the Archer disappeared, fading into red motes of light, the Fool bent over, picking up the bow and quiver. Next, he would use this to fight. And soon… George's time would come. Even the Prince, he would devour them all.
"Soon…" He muttered, fading into the shadows in search of his next prey... His next teacher.
***
The Prince. A woman whose motives have been clear and set in stone since the moment she was born, perhaps even before then.
Her mother and father are geniuses, and leaders of their generation. Having made it all the way to B rank before turning fifty, they could be considered talented even in the broader universe. Some say this is sheer luck, that they just happened to be born that way. But this is not the case.
The Prince's parents are a product; they were designed to be talented, cultivated by clans in such a way that they would meet the expectations set upon them from birth. In this regard, she is like them—a plant in a greenhouse.
Where they separate, where her parents' path divulges from hers, is that she is defective. The Prince is a faulty product. She, should not have been born.
It began twenty-two years ago, when they met. Her mother, a sect maiden and her father, a clan heir, were ordered to the first layer of defence… The Moon.
There, a perimeter had been set up to intercept extra-terrestrial threats from reaching the earth. This encompasses everything from cosmic terrors and stray demons, to raiding parties from nearby systems. On the Moon, caution is thrown to the wind, and pathfinders fight with their actual lives on the line, as there is no respawning there.
In the heat of a battle, two fledgling B-Rank pathfinders were separated from their teams and forced to hide underground during a bombardment. It was cold and lonely in the dark tunnels beneath the lunar surface. All they had was each other, however forbidden that may be.
A month later, when the bombardment ended and they finally emerged, they walked closer together than was proper, blushing when their hands touched. Romance had blossomed down in the tunnels, but romance was something the man's clan could not allow.
Driar, the most talented of their younger generation, was selected as the heir with little to no opposition. He was just that talented. However, Driar didn't care much for the responsibilities that came with that title; he wanted freedom, not shackles.
So, he made a decision. A decision that would doom his daughter's life.
"Father," He said, "I bring you a proposal. Although I know it is forbidden to marry outside the clan, I have found a woman of equal talent, and we are with child. If our talents are to be combined, then surely this child would be the most suitable candidate for an heir?"
His father objected, fearing complications in the pregnancy and unwilling to place such a burden on a mere child. But Driar would hear none of it. He visited the tribunal, and his request was granted, passing on the title of heir to his unborn child.
Months passed, and the clan grew nervous as their heir's birth swiftly approached. They prepared celebrations and parades, fighting over who would give gifts first. The position of godfather was hotly contested, but Driar's own father threatened anyone who competed against him with extinction. He swore to shelter the child from the crushing weight of the clan's expectations.
Eighteen years ago, on a frosty winter morning, she was born... the heir.
None celebrated or cheered, and the feasts were cancelled. In the night, Driar, and his wife Elaine vanished, fleeing to the bridge without their child.
Rather than rejoice, the clan mourned. For this child could not be the heir. She… was not a man.
Only one person stood fast, beating the waves of discontent back by himself. The child's grandfather, Roaran, refused to give up on her.
***
The Prince winced, wrapping a bandage around her broken arm. It just wasn't healing the way she wanted. Any other time she would have just killed herself and fixed it automatically, but she couldn't afford to lose the points, couldn't afford to drop off the number one place on the leader board, couldn't afford to look weak.
Her clan demanded more than greatness from her. They demanded perfection. One slip-up, one failure, and her grandfather's reputation would crumble.
She took a shaky breath and clambered to her feet. The carnage before her was biblical, blood dripped from trees like melting snow, and thousands upon thousands of night drones lay in scattered pieces, blanketing the forest floor so thick the earth could no longer be seen.
At sundown, she stepped into the forest, and at sunrise, she left. It had been days since she slept, and the only thing that kept her going was him, the Prince. Many saw the Prince as infallible, especially her. He had to be. That, was how she pictured him.
For a moment, she relished the feeling of being alone in the forest, taking in the solitude and just being herself. She didn't have to live up to anyone's expectations or play a character; she could be free. But that's all it was, a moment. A pounding drumbeat in the back of her mind whipped her, spurring her forwards. She could not rest. She would not.
As the path neared, she closed her eyes and prepared herself. Once there were other people around, she would have to slip into character again. The others didn't want her. They wanted the Prince.
'Who are all these maniacs!?' She complained, remembering the constantly changing leaderboard that loomed over her like a guillotine, 'It's one thing for the Farmer to compete against me. He's a genius; I get that. But now this George guy has almost caught up to us. And some bastard called the Fool has been shooting up the leaderboards. As for who Unknown is, nobody knows. I have no idea how normal people are growing this quickly. Why can't they just stop and let me rest?'
She hated them more than words could describe. All her life, she had pushed forward and trained harder than anyone. When her knees gave out and her bones creaked, they healed her, and she trained some more. It just wasn't fair that someone with a good talent could come along and destroy everything she had worked for all her life.
"No, I won't allow it," She mumbled, slipping on the mask as she stepped onto the path.
It wasn't a physical mask but rather a persona she put on. Her talent, Method Actor, allowed her to seamlessly play characters of her own creation. Her performance was so convincing that even she often forgot who she really was.
She only had one character; she only needed one. The Prince. He was everything she wasn't, a rightful heir, talented, hardworking, reliable… a boy. All her ideals and responsibilities, everything she should have been, he was. In him, she could give the people what they wanted.
Her expression hardened, her back straightened, her hands stopped shaking, and her breath came steady. Now, she was ready. The Prince was her, and she was him.
When she played the Prince, she was perfect, better than that even. And the Prince would not lose.
