Tyrants of Earth - The Legend of Artigan

Chapter 269 - Memorial



Before heading to The Realm, Ryan had used the System portal in San Kingsgrove.

Destineds like him, the wildcards of the Trial System still had to follow the rules to an extent. He could not just use system skills like [Return to Earth] to ferry items across worlds. To do that, he still needed to use the portals, and that required physically accessing portals on both sides of the world with his body.

It also meant that he would need to get back into the inner Sectors, reserve a spot in the inter-dimensional system portals, and then somehow sneak the [Saboteur] class crystal through the checkpoints and scanners without being identified as Artigan.

Minor problems really.

What he wasn’t quite expecting was for five massive turrets to be aimed at his face the moment he walked out of the system portal.

A voice on the intercom shouted at him.

“Halt! Identify yourself!”

Ryan put his hands up.

“Ryan Robinson, realm six… Destined?”

Gone was the enchanted dome with more of a lounge lobby for adventurers. Here was a military installation with all the might and aggression of the American military.

Cold walls, turrets, serious looking guards with what looked like magitech rifles. There were even two adventurers in the eighth realm that wore military uniforms.

None of them were happy to see an undeclared individual through their checkpoint.

Ryan narrowed his eyes slightly but quickly tamped down on the feeling of wrongness here.

Things had changed. A city that had nearly been wiped out could not stay the same way.

The voice on the intercom blared again.

“Confirmed. Please state your reason for entry and place your hand on the pedestal for scanning.”

“I uh. Live here? American citizen? Sorry I left before… all of this was set up.”

Ryan walked up to the pedestal and put his gloved hand on it. Grettfield had said that his shoulder length gloves would hide his mana signatures. Of course, that hadn’t taken the standards of rigorous military testing into account.

The voice shouted at him.

“Please take off your gloves.”

Ryan hesitated.

“I have an antimagic mana problem. [Witch] Grettfield made these gloves for me to keep it under control. If you contact her then she’ll tell you that there’s a good chance my antimagic energy will damage most delicate artifacts.”

It was a good lie. If they still forced his hand then he was going to have to improvise. Either blow up the scanner or call Grettfield. The only question was which would lead to the least amount of attention.

There was silence for a good few seconds, whoever was manning the intercom was trying to figure out what it needed to do as well.

"This installation is considered a formal inquiry. Understand that any false statements will be considered a federal offense.”

Ryan suppressed an urge to roll his eyes. That meant they also did not want to escalate to [Witch] Grettfield nor have their precious scanner damaged.

He tried to be reasonable.

“Look if I was lying would I really use a [Witch] to do it? I’m not looking to get hexed by a dragonslayer.”

Another pause.

Perhaps saying that Ryan felt more of a threat from Grettfield than the entire American government might not have been the best thing to say in a military installation. Thankfully, they probably didn’t want to escalate either.

“Re-enter San Kingsgrove, adventurer Robinson.”

——

All thoughts of annoyance by the security theater left him as he walked out of there and saw the memorial. The memorial was right outside of the military building that held the system portal, where Pinkie had knocked down a nearby skyscraper from her rapid expansion.

It was… quite an odd place to put it.

The memorial itself was in the shape of a dome. A solemn creation made of stone with names that shone in multi-colored lights.

There was a small crowd here, and a pile of fresh and old flowers. A small girl walked up to the dome, holding hands with her father. She dropped off a flower and looked so terribly sad.

But she did not cry.

A name shone on the other side of the monument, then made its way quickly to the front of the girl.

Tamila Jones

The girl stared at the name but did not cry. For she had been here before and all her tears had been spent.

There were still others, crying, sobbing silently. Many were just muttering to themselves.

People had died here in this city. Been burned, torn apart, subjected to a [Witch’s] emotional curse. Those in the epicenter had been hit with a wave of grief so overwhelming that it had blanked their minds.

Over fifty thousand victims, maybe more, much more.

Millions of families and close-ones that were affected.

Perhaps… perhaps this was the best place to put the memorial after all. For no matter what you thought, by being here, standing so the system portal, you were risking it all. Because if there had been danger, then it could happen again. Resolve to show respect.

Ryan decided it mattered.

So he stood there, for a solemn minute, with everyone else.

The changes in his body, the gloves on his arms and his presence—no matter how contained—showed that he was different. But he stood there, the same as the rest of the crowd.

Then he walked away, back into the throng of the city.

It was less busy than it had been. Perhaps people were realizing that a portal to another world shouldn’t be used as one of the main cities of a nation.

Or maybe it was just a lack of tourists.

Ryan ducked into a quiet alleyway a few minutes away from the system portal. There wasn’t anything special about it. Someone had just been stalking him from the moment he walked outside.

“Hello Mirelda.”

The invisible [Witch] swore as she came out of invisibility and flew down, quickly wrapping them up in a privacy bubble.

“You saw through that?”

She had been working on her invisibility skill. Ryan just shrugged.

“I improved as well.”

The eighth realm [Witch], the one Ryan and Pinkie had interrogated, the one that was in the Witch’s Coven, raised her broom and started to throw spells left at right.

None of them were directed at him. Nor did he see exactly what she was casting. [Detect Life] as well as something to do with clearing the air were the only spells he managed to catch.

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[Spellweave Perception] had difficulty when there were too many spells being thrown about.

Ryan shook his head.

“Nobody’s following us.”

Mirelda didn’t answer him. There was fear from her, but none of it was directed towards him.

“Yes, because your skill can detect something that Matron Grettfield’s concerned about?”

“And basic detection spells will catch something that [Witch] Grettfield’s worried about?”

Mirelda huffed in annoyance but again, didn’t answer him. She looked around, and still seemed uncertain. In fairness, she probably did know better than he did about detecting invisible [Rogues].

When she seemed almost satisfied they were alone, she turned around and handed him a little black notebook.

“Here. This will connect you to… you-know-who.”

Ryan leaned back in surprise.

“The Witch Tyrant?”

Mirelda panicked.

“No! Even if it was the case, why would you say that out loud?!”

The fear from the [Witch] had spiked the moment he had said that. Mirelda caught him observing the fear and waved her hand—immediately cutting off the emotion that had been oozing out of her in waves.

“This is, the other you-know-who.”

She was clearly talking about [Witch] Grettfield.

“I mean at this point, if anyone’s listening it’s pretty obvious who you’re talking about.”

Mirelda stomped her foot and thrust the notebook forward. Ryan narrowed his eyes at it.

“Normally they have someone else doing errands.”

Ryan was talking about Chester, Grettfield’s discolored book familiar.

“Well, they’re being watched. Can you just take this already?”

Mirelda really did lack the cunning that was supposed to come with the [Witch] class. Then again, Ryan did remember that she was just an apprentice.

He also knew exactly why she was so nervous.

“So… you made a promise to a certain you-know-who to deliver this and I’m assuming you have to deliver this or be stuck in San Kingsgrove not having completed your task?”

Mirelda blinked, realizing the implication there that was in Ryan’s tone. She straightened up.

Are you really using this to threaten me? Even memory fades if it is not replaced with obsession. When—if Pinkie wakes up and smells my fear and guilt then I will make sure to take you down with me. Neither you nor I will want to be here when she wakes.”

A [Witch’s] spite. Ryan did not waver in the slightest at the threat.

“Tell me. Have you decided whether all of this is acceptable yet?”

Mirelda had once said that the Witch Tyrant deserved to do anything she wanted for her daughter back. That the Witch Tyrant had created the peace and deserved to ruin it.

Ryan bared his teeth slightly.

“How long have you been waiting for me? You must have been hovering by that memorial for an awfully long time. All of those people that have lost someone… Must have been hard for a [Witch].”

If there was a meaning for the location of the memorial, then this would have been Mirelda’s punishment. Mirelda did not look like she was in a good state, even if this was a cushy job, she had been forced to hover over where the lost family members had to grieve.

Ryan could see it all. Mirelda making a deal with Grettfield and realizing it was a trick and not being able to back out.

Grettfield could truly be cruel when she wanted to be.

“I—why are you making me out to be an enemy?”

“That depends on you. Have you chosen yet?”

“What?”

“Whether you’re going to continue to support the Witch Tyrant?”

Silence.

You could cut the tension between the two with a knife. If she understood even a little of what he was implying then she would have attacked him now. That was… if her attitude was still the same as it had been.

“I don’t know.”

Mirelda whispered under her breath.

She then threw the notebook at Ryan’s chest and he caught it. She promptly turned and flew. Flying away from the city, maybe even away from this world.

Ryan shook his head and opened the black notebook. It came with a simple gold pen and he couldn’t detect any magic in it at all.

Though the moment his gloved hand opened the book, a message from Grettfield appeared.

G: Are you doing well? I hope you didn’t have too much trouble with my errand.

Apparently whatever had Mirelda spooked was powerful enough for Grettfield to be cautious and speak in code.

Ryan scribbled his response.

R: I’m doing fine. Just finished up the Trial and have a lot of things to do. Haven’t caught up yet, how are you?

The ink seemed to seep into the paper and he saw something… he turned the page.

Like words had been there the whole time.

G: I’ve been busy. Unfortunately, I don’t have much time as of late.

That either meant that she wanted him to cut to the chase or… she wasn’t sure if she could contain Pinkie for much longer.

Ryan kept writing.

R: I’m pretty busy too. Not sure if I’ll make it. Got a bunch of stuff from The Realm I want you to appraise but customs, you know?

It was the biggest problem before making an attempt at fixing Pinkie. He needed to find a way to get the [Arcane Saboteur] crystal back to Earth.

G: I’ll have to organize a time to meet. In the meanwhile, you might want to go visit your friends, they came to San Kingsgrove. According to our mutual acquaintance they are not doing well.

The first part indicated that Grettfield needed time to figure out a way to sneak his stuff through the portal on Earth. The second…

His friends? Mutual Acquaintance?

——

It didn’t take long for him to find out where Milo was. A quick message to Barry and he had gotten the location. They were supposed to be in LA. Far away from San Kingsgrove.

Ryan just nodded at the orc as he opened the door of the hotel room.

Milo had tried and failed to put on makeup properly. The skin underneath his eyes were baggy, discolored and…

Ryan crossed his arms.

“You made a promise, Milo.”

Milo just rolled his eyes.

“I know, I know.”

His friend had promised to take care of himself and sleep properly.

“I’ve been busy alright? Well… busy failing anyway.

He muttered that last bit like he was bitter.

“Busy with what?”

Ryan was already next to the half-awak Milock. His friend was startled and tried to hide his laptop screens—too late.

Ryan started reading the title of the half-written document out loud.

“The truth about the Tyrants, Artigan and the Trial System.’”

Milock reached for the laptop as Ryan hip checked his friend to send him sprawling. He speed read through it all. It was in-depth, told Ryan’s story in ruthless honesty… and was everything his friend had promised to spread to the world if he died.

“Damn Milo, this is… a lot.”

Ryan scratched his head as he held the laptop with one arm. Milock didn’t care about hiding it anymore.

“Just don’t die then.”

“I mean, your life gets ruined by this too… ride or die, huh?”

“Ride or die.” Milo confirmed.

Barry took that moment to leave the two of them alone. Ryan nodded at the back of the old orc and turned to Milo.

“Is that why you’re here, in San Kingsgrove? Showing commitment?”

“No, I’m here seeing if I can buy some property cheaply.”

Ryan raised an eyebrow.

“Taking advantage of grieving families?”

“Taking advantage of grieving rich families and corporations. Not that many people are selling… It’s not actually working out that well… like everything else I ever do.”

Milo said that last bit again, and bitterly. His friend was half wide awake and half… not.

There was a secondary laptop set up next to Milo as well as tens of tabs open on the browser and five other apps open.

Ryan pointed at the second monitor.

“May I?”

Milock seemed surprised Ryan even asked instead of doing what he wanted. His friend seemed too exhausted to hide anything.

“Do what you want.”

Ryan started by closing the second laptop. Then he put down the laptop he was holding and started by shutting it down and booting it back up.

A fresh screen with no other apps open. Ryan opened up a blank text document

Then started with the title.

‘The truth about the Trial System, the Manager and the Tyrants.’

Ryan smiled at his friend.

“Shall we work on this together?”

——

It took time.

Milock argued and debated with Ryan over what needed to be shared and what didn’t. Milo wanted everything to be out there… and Ryan? He wanted things to be shared in a way that Milo didn’t understand. Too nice, too optimistic and open-ended.

He swore that Ryan wasn’t always this way. It was tiring and frustrating to keep up.

But… for some reason Ryan relented. He did not argue in the same way Milo was used to.

When Milock pushed for more transparency, Ryan nodded and changed the document more often than not.

By the end of it. Milock was satisfied.

And he was laying on the bed staring up at the ceiling.

“Can’t sleep?”

“Too much adrenaline. All the time.”

“Well, I’m not giving you my after-action report while you’re half dead.”

Milo just scoffed.

“Hah. Not that what we say changes what you’re going to do.”

“You’re just completely wrong if you think that’s the case.”

Milo remembered when Ryan talked about the [Dread Revenant] and dumb-Ryan.

“Maybe.”

Ryan looked around.

“Where’s Clara? She’s not here as well, is she?”

“Nah. She has her own problems. She met with her family or something and it didn’t turn out well. I don’t know…”

“What?!”

Milo had actually been slowly dozing off before Ryan exclaimed out loud. He opened his eyes, irritated.

“What?”

“What do you mean, what? What did she say?”

“I don’t know, she didn’t want to talk about it like usual. Besides, it’s small stuff, there’s so much you have to do. You need to go back to Raidco’s Mastery and get back your reputation, maybe stake a claim on Rahess’ fame—.”

“Rahess?” Ryan interrupted.

Milo frowned in confusion.

“You know, the Lich King Rahess? You know, you got adventurer Mudriff to do a livestream to humiliate him? It’s gotten really big now. There’s no way you forgot.”

It had become one of the biggest streams across both worlds. A multi-eight figure operation that had Grettfield’s backing. Soon to be nine-figures if Milo had things right.

Ryan clicked his fingers in realization.

“Oh the bone man. Nah, that’s small stuff.”

Then Ryan waved it away, like creating the biggest stream out of a dragonslayer tier Lich King was nothing special.

Milo raised an eyebrow but that was all. That was just what Ryan did after all.

Milo sat up.

“What about Pinkie?”

“Have to wait anyway. Besides, it’s like Seffara said, there’ll always be another disaster. What there won’t be is another time to be there for Clara when she needs help.”

Milo was trying to find an excuse. This was all pointless. She’d be back to her cheery fake-mask self soon anyway.

“She said she doesn’t want to talk about it. What if we go there and she just tells us she wants to be alone?”

Ryan considered it.

“Maybe. But what if she doesn’t?”

And apparently that was enough. Ryan shook his head, and turned towards the door.

“Barry! Is Seffara’s jet ready?”

The eavesdropping old orc opened the door and grunted.

“It’s always ready.”

Milo didn’t understand it. Ryan and him never asked about Clara’s past because it was clear that she didn’t want to talk about it. That was how it always was between them. If you wanted to talk, you talked, and if you didn’t want to talk about it, you didn’t.

But for some reason, Ryan had decided that wasn’t enough anymore.

Milock’s friend had changed once again.

Milo was always chasing the backs of his friends. But this time, it felt like Ryan had changed so much that he couldn’t even see the trail he was walking down.

Milo shook his head ruefully.

“Alright, let’s go.”

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