Chapter 261 - Anticipation
The Realm…
“Shit, shit, shit, shit.”
Hector swore continuously as the trio stood around nervously. An [Infernal Pyromancer] held his staff in a deathgrip.
A [Dragonslayer Warrior] in magnificent plate armor stood tall. She was the calmest of them all.
“Look alive, we’ve done nothing wrong.”
Hector the [Armsmaster Rogue] hissed.
“Haven’t you heard about how the Settlers talk about the purge?”
“Shut up, that’s clearly dragonshit or they would have killed so many of the others already.”
This team… was relatively young as dragonslayers went. Actually, the trio weren’t even all dragonslayers. Hector, was in fact, a ninth realm Destined. The two dragonslayers kept him around because he was talented and he was a Destined that could use [Return to Earth].
That was how it went in a lot of these teams. The worst of dragonslayers paired up with the best of the best ninth realms.
…It still wasn’t balanced, for all they treated Hector like an equal.
Despite being considered one of the weakest dragonslayer team, they weren’t idiots. They knew the Tyrants weren’t actually paragons of justice that society made them out to be, but it was hard to see them as ruthless monsters either. Not when you met them, not when you—
The aura that hit them from far away was like a crushing hug, giant, encompassing and probably a little too friendly.
At first they tensed, then they all relaxed. It was the Chieftain Tyrant, and he was the nicest Tyrant—no, possibly the nicest dragonslayer in The Realm.
They’d gotten a message from the Archmage Tyrant.
‘We wish to see what you are doing with the town you are protecting.’
They hadn’t truly done anything wrong. But there had been a message sent out to everyone. That the power of faith could damage the laws of reality and people were warned not to mess around with it.
But they had already been here before that warning had gone out.
So… it was waiting for judgment. From the Tyrants.
If the Passive Tyrant had come then they would have to watch for her mood, thank goodness none of them were powerful enough to strike her flights of fancy. If the Witch Tyrant appeared… then they would have run while begging her to not hex them. If it was the Skillful Tyrant then they would have cracked open a beer and explained their position.
Yes, dragonslayers had plans and contingencies when encountering Tyrants. Just like you would with common natural disasters, it was just something you had to prepare for if you were exploring the higher Sectors.
The Chieftain Tyrant was always the best case scenario. More like a ray of sun than a magical tornado you ducked.
The orc [Chieftain] gently landed in front of them.
Hector gave a friendly wave.
“Hi Paul, how are you doing?”
“Hello, I’m just checking up on all of you. Sorry I’m a little busy or I would offer you some food.”
Hector laughed it off and got to the point.
“Ah well, we know how it is. Well, here’s the situation. We saved this town before the warning and well… it’s not like we can leave now.”
Hector tried to look as innocent as he could while tiny motes of blue-green swirled around him. Paul was staring at the uncontrolled power of faith and frowned.
Everyone’s heart skipped a beat. Even if Paul was friendly, it was like a titan staring down and frowning at you. Worse because Hector knew his two dragonslayer teammates had two literal giants staring down at them.
Hector coughed.
“Look Paul, there’s no law against it right? We’re protecting the town and they’re worshipping us. It’s sort of a payment if you think about it.”
The Chieftain Tyrant shook his head sadly.
“It is dangerous. For the world. Faith can do bad things when it gathers like this.”
The [Dragonslayer Warrior] Fenrah, shook her head, she was feeling more confident now that they were arguing.
“But aren’t you doing that with those big cities? We saw them. This is nothing compared to what you’re gathering there. What you’ve already gathered.”
They had seen a city of millions being protected by a magical formation that the Witch Tyrant had designed. They hadn’t gone too close but they had seen an endless amount of faith. So much faith that it felt like it could rival some of the Tyrants.
Some dragonslayers had been exposed to the power of faith already. Those people were much quicker to rush to Sector Thirteen and had kept it to themselves.
That was what the rumors had said.
Power that could do something that qi and mana could not. Power that was so easy to gather and was somewhat malleable.
The Chieftain Tyrant looked troubled indeed.
“That is Lihua’s doing. We will work on changing that. The power of faith is not safe for The Realm, not like this.”
Fenrah stood her ground.
“This is a fraction of a fraction of the amount of faith being gathered in those city nations. Besides, this town needs protectors and this is their culture. We aren’t forcing them to worship us. If we left now the entire town could be wiped off the map. Also, who’s to say we won’t master the power of faith ourselves? Maybe we’ll find a way to make it stable.”
They’d prepared this well ahead of time. They were adventurers after all.
The [Pyromancer] tapped Fenrah on her back, and nodded to Paul.
“But if you say that we should step back, then we have no choice but to do so. But then this wouldn’t be the first time you’ve done this Paul, you overlook the other Tyrants’ behavior while telling us all to behave and hold us back. It isn’t fair.”
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Yes, this speech was practiced, yes all of it was planned, but it was also true. Paul might have been a Tyrant, but he was a reasonable one, a kind one.
The Chieftain sighed.
He used a simple skill to change perspectives to the bird’s eye view. The town of thousands of the bird-people, rocra as they were starting to be called, had built statues and shrines in the adventurers’ images.
But the pedestals… they were much too old compared to the statues. Like their previous statue had been replaced with a new one.
The dragonslayer tier [Infernal Pyromancer] stepped in front. The last of the trio, having noticed Paul’s skill being used.
“We did not kill the guardian deity here. We found them like this, we swear.”
The Chieftain Tyrant stopped being the gentle giant.
For once the orc looked sad, and weary. An old orc that was well in his nineties, finally feeling his age.
Power of faith or not, the trio felt a shiver down their spines.
Paul looked at the ground.
“Normally Lihua would know if you were telling the truth. Normally, she would deal with you all and make it right and fair.”
“Paul—”
Hector put a hand on Fenrah’s breastplate and shook his head.
The orc just kept staring at the ground.
“Lihua would have solved this. She was always good at that, making decisions, doing the right thing. I think she is right… we have relied on her too much.”
Hector just stared at his teammates and their eyes were wide. Did they rip their emergencies or beg for mercy? Was Paul even trying to talk himself into killing them? Nobody could tell.
The orc noticed the fear coming from all of them and looked sad once again.
“I do not know what the right thing is anymore.”
Then… the Chieftain Tyrant walked away, his head bowed.
Hector turned to his teammates.
“Well, now I feel like shit.”
——
Gamielle had kept a scrying spell on the entrance to the sixth Trial. The timer she was keeping in her mind ticked down until…
Trial Capacity 1/?
Trial Capacity 0/7
She immediately started sending out magical pulses throughout Sector Six. Getting through the leveled zones were still a pain in the ass but nowhere near as bad as it had been in the lower realm leveled zones.
She tutted in impatience and switched her attention to Cerul.
The Cerulean Crow… that was taking a bird bath in a stream did not immediately snapped to attention like it normally did when it sensed Ryan. It’s innate tracking abilities were second to none and all it meant was that he was not in The Realm.
[Remembrance of the Fallen]
Gamielle was not panicking. It was just different from what she had expected. He had looked so rushed entering the sixth Trial she had assumed he was going to speedrun it. Then she had seen the anomalous ‘?’ appear on top of the Trial and knew the Manager was interfering.
And now… he still wasn’t in The Realm.
But that was fine, he could be spending his time looking through his skill list, maybe even returning to Earth to talk to his friends first before her. That would annoy her but they weren’t a thing so she shouldn’t be too…
[Remembrance of the Fallen]
She checked it again. No new fallen popping up. She wasn’t even sure how she would face him if he appeared there. There was both horror and an anticipation there that she couldn’t explain if she tried. Gamielle didn’t want him to die but at least she would have closure instead of this constant state of wariness.
It had been an arduous seventy-two days, did Ryan not realize that? Did he have no sympathy for a poor maiden’s heart?
Or maybe he had and he was doing this to torment her.
No, that’s way too psychotic. Gamielle, get a hold of yourself.
Gamielle had never truly fallen in love with someone and it showed, for she was finding out something about love.
Absence did indeed only make the heart grow fonder.
——
Earth…
“Where the fuck is he?”
The maximum timer for the sixth Trial had passed. Adventurers that had rebuilt the outpost confirmed that Artigan’s Trial had ended and it was now free. The ‘?’ though, that had sent another ripple across the worlds, despite everything happening.
They knew what it meant, five adventurers, all exceptional monsters. Three had confirmed the meaning.
A special Trial just for them.
It had further cemented Artigan as a priority one threat in the public’s eyes. His bounty had skyrocketed as he entered the public’s eye again…
Then silence. Silence as Ryan took his sweet damned time finishing that Trial, all to the last second.
Clara wasn’t responding to messages either. She had apparently gone to her parents place and well… Milo might not be the best at telling peoples’ moods but it was clear that it had not gone well and he was not the one she wanted to talk to about it.
Not that Milo himself had time to worry about such small problems.
He had tried dealing with three crises himself. The Secretary was still AWOL and radio silent to everyone. At the worst possible time too because everyone was looking for updates about the Tyrants. Her absence was being noted by everyone and they were wondering…
If she might even be dead.
Yes, it was a crisis.
The Secretary of the Tyrants was the go-to between everyone else and the Tyrants.
That suddenly disappearing was causing chaos and confusion. Nobody knew how to contact four out of the seven Tyrants.
The only ones that you could really approach regularly were the Archmage Tyrant, the Dwarven Tyrant and the Shadow Tyrant. All three of whom refused to speak on the other Tyrants’ behalf.
That was an uneasy problem on its own. It accelerated the other issue.
People were panicking, Realmers were requesting… no, demanding adventurers to escort them and their families into the center Sectors. The smaller new cities that had been in development were looking like they were going to be abandoned.
There just weren’t enough adventurers and if anything a disorganized migration was going to cause more deaths.
Milock had tried to control that narrative, putting some of what he had learned from the Secretary into practice. To calm the panicking Realmers that realized their foundation was crumbling.
He failed, hard.
Milock was almost certain there were Earth government programs inciting more and more chaos. The worse The Realm looked the better they looked comparatively.
But failing that made sense. Controlling the narrative there was like trying to stop a tide with his bare body.
But he had failed in two other areas as well. He could not get the public to rally behind Ryan’s monster grinding idea. The people in San Kingsgrove were still traumatized and the idea of using something that could wipe everyone out as a grinding tool wasn’t something that could be countenanced.
Especially not after the massive fight between Grettfield’s team and a group of masked dragonslayers.
That had happened too.
In the middle of the night, when it was just Ulhen the [Barbarian] patrolling the island, a group of masked dragonslayers went to strike at the pillar. They’d failed but not before they realized they could not scratch Pinkie’s flesh at all.
Now, Grettfield, Seffara and Ulhen were camping the island with Yomar the [Aegis Guardian] on standby in San Kingsgrove.
Milock almost couldn’t believe it. He knew people were selfish, but the attacking dragonslayers had to know they were risking millions of lives if Pinkie truly attacked.
Things were changing.
Something in society was shifting. Less dragonslayers were willing to come to help evacuations, not even for a removal of the blacklisted status.
People… were becoming more selfish. More direct at seizing power.
But that was fine, that was how people truly were.
The thing that really broke Milock was that he failed to affect the easiest of the three narratives
Ryan’s thesis on classes and resonances. While at first both worlds had ripped him apart for it, more and more adventurers coming out and proving his point had other researchers taking credit for it themselves. They claimed that they had gotten there first and Ryan had just built on the idea.
They were calling him a coward and he was hiding from the rest of the world.
Out of everything, that enraged Milock the most.
He had been thrown into the deep end and it turned out he couldn’t swim against the current at all.
In his sleep-deprived delirium, he stared blankly at the update. That Artigan had either completed the Trial… or…
“If you’re dead, I’m burning the world down. Ride or die, Ryan. Ride or die.”
Milock was ready to release everything and damn the consequences.
It was the only comforting thing he had left.
——
Ryan had his feet up in the sixth realm safe area.
It was the fanciest one yet. Everything fit the style he wanted. The couch was plush and just let you sink in. The walnut colored tea table was perfect to put your boots on top of and there was a nice burger and a drink waiting for him.
It tasted like the burgers that Seffara had made. There were even traces of mana inside which reinvigorated him beyond just the satiation.
The cola in a glass bottle fizzed golden bubbles in the light and gave him a warm fuzzy feeling. It actually really complimented the boost in energy the burger gave him.
Ryan poured down the rest of the magical cola down his throat and sighed.
“Life is good."
He hadn’t even checked his rewards for the Trial completion yet. Ryan had learned a lot about taking his time, enjoying his life where he could.
The world could surely last a couple more minutes without him.