Overpowered Wizard - Chapter 62: Minor Crash Out
Chapter 62: Minor Crash Out
They arrived at the mansion as heroes. While the barrier remained, it became evident to everyone that Zarian, Naomi, and Bianca had succeeded when the blockade ended.
The blockade soldiers had removed themselves from the premise around the barrier before Zarian and the ladies returned. The neighbors staying in the other mansions and personal towers hadn’t returned fully, especially when there were damages made by the soldiers, but that wasn’t much of a concern to everyone staying in the Lovewar Mansion.
They had drinks pouring freely from the last of their supplies. They had celebrations in full swing, with an obvious divide between the genders. The Lovewar Acolytes stayed indoors, passing drink and food through the backdoors and open windows to the soldiers outside.
Zarian, Naomi, and Bianca found Gilbert roaring drunk while outside knocking back drinks with Roland. Zarian had to stop once he touched the manicured lawn to recompose himself while the normally conservative Roland acted out and partied like a mad man.
Naomi squeezed Zarian’s biceps. Bianca tossed a quick hug around him. Then both ladies left his side to link up with Hannah who was sitting halfway in an open window while journaling some notes with a feather pen. She looked up and smiled at Naomi and Bianca before seeing Zarian and waving.
Zarian and Para waved back, though he was a little miffed. Naomi and Bianca had left him with the announcement duty.
Makes sense. I’m the leader. He did wear the big pants in his party of adventurers.
Still, he would’ve preferred leaning on Bianca’s Shining Trust trait for the announcement. He glowered at them. The ladies smiled and waved back.
Whatever.
Zarian wasn’t a shy person, after all. Better yet, it was dark out. While the city had its magic lights on, the universe of the Infinita Star System twinkled and glowed above with myriad stars. Yes, that meant the dark was weaker, but not by much. The view was worth it.
“Para, get the Head Acolyte and Garden Officer to join me in the pavilion.” Zarian stepped into the pavilion while strands from the Parasite Cloak reached out.
They caught Roland and Lora and reeled both of them away from what they were doing. Roland was too drunk to fuss. Lora was panicking as she was pulled out of the mansion and onto the lawn filled with men.
Once the two were beside him, left in different states of puzzlement and bewilderment, Zarian began the show.
“Ladies, Lords, I come humbly before you to explain some significant changes to your statuses.”
Zarian slipped his hands in his pockets, a rude gesture, but it wasn’t exactly out of sorts for him.
“I’ll start by saying I’m serious that you’re ladies and lords. All of you are now Low Rose Nobles except for these two. They’re Mid Rose Nobles.”
Zarian tilted his head to the right at Roland, then to the left at Lora. There was some silence before. But now there was absolute silence and stillness.
“Yes, that means you can all have lands within the Bramblevale region. This extends to all the Lovewar Acolytes who are outside of the mansion, too. At least the ones working in the Bramblevale region. Where will we find all that land? I have an idea where. So that leads to my next point. Prepare to leave. We’re heading far north to the tip of the kingdom in the next week or so.”
“I’m a Mid Rose now?” Roland said, astonished. “And we’re going north for land? Isn’t the wolf dragon problem north?”
Zarian smiled at the drunk and bewildered Roland.
“Milord! How can we be ladies if we aren’t picked?” Lora said seriously. “Does that mean we’re all picked by you?”
Zarian sighed. He glanced over at the gaggle of girls leaning out of a big window. He gave them a deadpan look. “Can you get the Head Acolyte caught up on your … self reeducation?”
“Yes, milord!” shouted an acolyte. It was Amabel from the spa area.
Another acolyte chimed in. “We wouldn’t mind if you pick all of us as long as you can afford us, milord!”
The acolytes around the silly one shushed her. Many other acolytes giggled while the Head Acolyte, now Lady Lora, looked about in disbelief. Clearly, she was clueless of the quiet revolution the lesser acolytes were leading at full swing.
“Am I really a Mid Rose Noble?” Roland asked. “I don’t believe I deserve it.”
“You don’t. But you will earn it. You’re falling under some new High Rose Nobles who’ll have you work to pay off your debt.” Zarian sneered. “Me and my party. We’re honorable nobles of the Eternal Garden Kingdom now, and of the highest nobility.”
It wasn’t official. The king had the final say on the paperwork.
Zarian pretended it was a sure thing even if it wasn’t. It was all semantics to him. All that mattered was that he had legality and high social status that would make tomorrow’s operation somewhat easier.
In fact, he had the Bramblevale Main Library under surveillance through his Spectral Spider Network right now. Both Cassian and Arnold had warned that the family in charge of the library were as elitist and exclusive as they come, almost rivals to the royal family.
Zarian didn’t care. He would deal with the Hemlock Family one way or another.
Nonetheless, that was tomorrow’s problem.
Tonight, they celebrated.
“Don’t look so scared, Roland of Wood! You’re not a trashy Low Rose Noble anymore!” Zarian cheered. “You can even create your own private military unit and acquire better gear and whatnot. The kingdom will have to pay you more for it!”
“But we’re trashy Low Rose Nobles,” said a soldier.
“But you’re not mere soldiers anymore! You can own land and decide your fates … somewhat. I’ll give you the options of what you get to decide.” Zarian turned to the acolytes. “And you can freely move and choose who you want for yourselves. And you can learn combat more freely … while also helping me out if I ever need some favors.”
“Learning combat? Maidens of the Eternal Garden Kingdom? Perhaps such a barbaric act is acceptable in the World of Swamps and Princesses, but our women are of the … er … um.” The soldier who was speaking unwisely shivered, his skin breaking out into excess sweat.
He looked up with a pale face and saw Naomi’s eyes glaring straight through him. Her High Intimidation trait stopped him from finishing his words.
“Well, as your High Rose Lord, you’re all too weak and worthless for my liking. The newly anointed soldier lords will train the ladies … safely … and let them choose whatever classes they want at Level 10 that’s useful as Noble Lovewar Acolytes. And when this is accomplished, you may learn some secrets from me that might affect your Level 40 First Class Advancement and make you much, much stronger.”
Everybody’s eyes glimmered from hearing that. That should motivate them to take all of this seriously.
“I guess that’s the end of that. Now, vamos, all of you, let’s drink and celebrate!” Zarian used his Dark Affinity trait to make the lights flicker.
The creepy move elicited some thrill from the soldiers and acolytes. Then the event became even racier when the acolytes bravely stepped out on the lawn to engage the soldiers in direct conversation.
Zarian slunk away, leaving a befuddled Roland and panicked Lora to figure things out as the Mid Roses. It felt nice being a high-statused boss and letting the managers clean up the mess.
He found his party in the kitchen. It was a wide and more industrial area, with multiple stoves and ovens. It felt cozier than being in the formal dining room.
They had plenty of drinks and food to share, especially when Zarian and Para’s appetite peaked. After the wizard and cloak duo finished consuming their hefty fill, Zarian swaggered over and leaned against the cabinets next to Hannah who was nursing a beer without studying for once.
“Will it really just be us two tomorrow?” Hannah asked.
“It’s your turn getting some special time spent with me.” Zarian waggled his eyebrows.
“I don’t know if that’s supposed to make me more confident or hesitant.”
“Oh, come on, don’t we always have a good time?” Zarian turned to the others.
Gilbert stuffed his face with a fruit pie instead of answering. Naomi thought about it before nodding. Bianca gave him two thumbs up.
Para turned a tendril into a fleshy, veiny hand for a high five. When Zarian connected, Para let out a howl that sounded like a stretched out, “Yeah!”
“She’s speaking! But I don’t think that’s Spanish.” Bianca pouted.
“Oh, yeah, that reminds me. I did say we’ll learn Spanish,” Zarian admitted.
Bianca nodded eagerly.
“Oh, come on, can’t we celebrate the victory without any more training.” Gilbert groaned childishly.
“We ought to start soon in case we want to hold conversations that nobody can understand in the next couple of months,” Zarian said.
“Hey, System, upload me a Spanish fluency trait! Yeah? No? You’re lame, System!” Gilbert shook a frothing mug up at the ceiling without spilling his drink.
“If you do decide to teach this Spanish of yours to an attentive audience,” said the familiar voice of an old man, “may I sit in and learn? It’s always fascinating to learn different languages. Keeps me sharp in my graying years.”
“Whoa, who the heck?” Gilbert held his mug of beer behind him.
The war healer extended his left arm forward and flipped out the Hardened Silk Tower Shield from the bracer on his forearm. He looked like he was ready to fight tooth and nail to protect his mug of beer.
“Relax, it’s our new friend, the White Rose of Serveserf, Seventh Guardian, seventh strongest of the kingdom,” Zarian announced. “Come on in, Arnold of Ambrose.”
The old man in white with the silver sword walked into the kitchen. He performed a flawless bow that elicited a giggle from Bianca. Naomi waved in greeting. Gilbert watched the man with blinking eyes, obviously confused. Hannah studied him curiously.
“Say, chief, ain’t a White Rose supposed to be a big evil-slaying person?” Gilbert asked.
“Yes,” Zarian answered.
“So, what’s going on here?” Gilbert waved his mug in Arnold’s direction and then in Zarian’s direction.
Zarian chuckled and gestured with his hand for Arnold to speak.
“I’ve come to a reasonable conclusion that you adventurers are to be welcomed. After all, you’ve saved the kingdom from the gnolls. You’ve done many incredible deeds while under hostile threat. And you’ve avoided harm to the innocent, which is quite rare, believe me. So, I used what remained of my shrinking intellect to reason that you are swell fellows and could use my support.”
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“He gave us the superb VIP treatment, and he pimp-slapped the Bramblevale Lord for us,” Naomi added.
“Oh, okay. Nice!” Gilbert raised his mug to Arnold. “Yeah, brother, have yourself a drink and join in on the Spanish lessons.”
“Which includes lessons of your fighting moves,” Zarian said eagerly. He let his greedy side creep out with a hint of evil. Only a hint.
“Ho, ho, ho. You drive a hard bargain, Lord Zarian. I suppose it could do you some good. I don’t know if my fighting techniques can stand against the techniques and abilities of the White Roses of Purgehunt and Purehome, however. Or let alone the White Rose of Lovewar, but that one is always off to some distant battle on foreign lands.”
Zarian and his party snapped to a sharp focus. Zarian was glad to see it from the others. They knew when to dial in on very important, life-and-death info. Especially when Zarian might be up against some significant odds.
“Are you willing to tell us more? Especially about the ones who claim Purgehunt and Purehome as their gods?”
“First, may I know about your levels?” Arnold asked innocently.
“I’m in the Level 50s. The rest of them are in the Level 40s,” Zarian lied.
Arnold nodded with grace. He didn’t bother trying to get the truth out of Bianca, which would’ve been a faux pas.
“Honestly, I take your for the Level 60s, Lord Zarian,” Arnold said. “Certainly a Tier 3 Threat.”
“Tiers?” Zarian asked.
“May I?” Hannah seemed to have the answers. When they gestured for her to have the floor, she spoke of things she’d researched:
“It’s clear that some adventurers or creatures at the same level or at most ten levels close to each other can differ greatly in power. In fact, they may share the same quality of class and still differ in power. In that regard, there are tiers.”
“Interesting,” Zarian commented. “Please, go on.”
“Tier 1 are those who are standard for their level, class quality, abilities. It’s an even match, and most people are Tier 1s. Thus, they prefer to fight those who are weaker than them. Tier 2 is above standard for their level. They’re talented. They still must work hard against certain odds, but they can hit above their normal range. Tier 3 is an immense threat that goes beyond their level, class quality, and range of power by a large degree. They are giants among men.”
“Then there are Tier 4s. Which is reserved for divine beings or world bosses,” Arnold added.
“I … didn’t know that.” Hannah looked shocked. “I’ve read through a lot of the most important documents and records going back for centuries. The Acolytes would’ve had that as vitally important information.”
“Divine beings? As if there are more than just the fourteen good and evil gods?” Zarian lurched from the cabinets and took a step toward Arnold. “My friend, White Rose of Serveserf, please tell us more.”
Arnold held the cards now. Zarian expected him to negotiate for some favors.
Instead, the old man smiled, removed his white gloves, and grabbed a mug. He poured himself a drink from the beer cask and leaned against a kitchen island before taking a small sip.
Zarian and the others studied the heavy scar tissue covering Arnold’s hands.
The man clearly had stories.
But tonight wasn’t the night for learning personal things about Arnold of Ambrose, unless he wanted to share willingly. Instead, he fed Zarian and his party’s curiosity.
“Such information is not to be spread among those seen as holding a lesser status of power. There’s not just the range of power – who is strongest and most likely to win. You must consider your status as well, which will enable you to access more information, more secrets. You’ll barely get through the doors as you are now as High Rose Nobles, but as Heroes of the Eternal Garden Kingdom, they must entertain you, the Hemlock Family.”
Arnold sipped his drink before continuing: “As for there being other divine beings … indeed, it is true. They exist. And they are … nightmarish creatures. Many of us know them as … regressors. The only equivalents are world bosses. The Tier 4s, regardless of their levels unless they are extremely low, can leave such devastation that we often deliver offerings to appease them. This is in hopes they’ll spare our kingdom during the System’s most tyrannical and horrific of events.”
Arnold lost some of his cool grandpa vibe. For a flicker of a moment, he reminded Zarian of a shell-shocked old man who’d fought in the jungles of Vietnam.
“Sometimes, the divine beings and the world bosses don’t care. For them, they are given some range to play in this lesser world. Thus, they have their fun, even if it costs hundreds of thousands to millions of lives. We are but mere toys. Or crops for the reaping. It is known … at least for the past three eras … that nobody in Corma has defeated such creatures.”
“When was the last time those types showed up?” Zarian asked.
“When I was a mere boy.” Arnold looked down at the hand holding his mug. The beer was spilling. His hand was shaking. “It was covered up as a strange phenomenon of the weather. But I saw the truth of the creature. It looked like multiple wind vortexes combined strangely. But it was in fact a giant man made of roaring wind. And he laughed as he scoured my hometown like a child kicking at ants in an anthill. He laughed and laughed and called us worthless and pathetic.”
Naomi was the first one to react, striding across the kitchen. She placed a hand on Arnold’s shoulder, then with a cocky grin, “I’m going to kill a world boss. Or a divine being. One or the other. Hell, I’ll kill that bastard made of roaring wind. He sounds like he deserves it.”
Arnold gawked at the brazen woman.
“You know how I’m going to do it?” Naomi pointed back at Zarian. “Because it’ll tickle him pink when I do. I’m not very strong. In fact, I think the others will outgrow me. But I’m going to work so hard I’ll catch up anyway. It’s either that or I’ll die trying. So … I’m going to slap the tornado man in the face, punch the brains out of moving mountains, and teach these regressor world bosses or whoever not to play with the lives of people trying to mind their own business.”
“I’ll probably kill a few here and there.” Zarian faked a yawn into his hand. “But they sound like distant problems. Can you tell us more about the White Roses of Purgehunt and Purehome?”
Arnold looked at them with wide-eyed shock. Then he burst into a fit of giggles that led to a racking cough. Naomi patted his back gently while Zarian and the others looked concerned that the old man’s life energy was nearly at an end. Thankfully, Arnold pulled through and recovered himself.
He smiled amicably at all of them. His eyes landed on Naomi last. “Don’t you ever quit, young lady. You have a rare and all-consuming fire in you that’ll overcome any weakness. I hope you stay true and turn that hungry ambition on those who toy with the lives of the meek.”
“Damn straight I will.”
Arnold scanned them all again, nodding in approval at Gilbert, Bianca, and Hannah. His eyes landed on Zarian last, who was poised lazily against the wall.
“I’ve always found the truly talented to be difficult individuals to be around. They have so much power that they tend to lack the drive to see it come to fruition.” Arnold chuckled. “Yet, I feel as if you’re … more driven than you let on. If the companions you keep are an extension of you, then you are truly destined for great things. Thus, it’ll be an honor if I can pass to them, and perhaps yourself, some knowledge, and even a few trade secrets, to make you even sharper and greater for the future battles to come.”
Zarian tried not to let his excitement show. This was absolutely perfect. While it would’ve been better to have lessons and secrets passed down from a more powerful White Rose, there was one key factor that made learning from Arnold of Ambrose something that would be fruitful.
He was a skillful, skillful man. Zarian could tell he was the “Naomi-type” of a person, despite his humble and elderly attitude. Arnold had worked hard to be the Seventh Guardian of the Eternal Garden Kingdom, and that sort of work ethic could elevate those who had talent.
It would also work wonders on Naomi, who was downplaying herself more than she realized. Bianca wasn’t lying earlier when she said Naomi was a beast to keep up with.
But Zarian wasn’t going to correct her. It wasn’t nice … but Naomi wasn’t always a nice girl, so a bit of negative reinforcement was good for her to keep her sprinting and overcoming obstacles.
Additionally, they could cross-reference the information they learned from Foodie, Ekri the Tailor, and the Lovewar Acolytes with what Arnold knew. The Sixth Divine War. The empty throne of the Adventurer King. Carrowmore and Coldbooth.
There was a lot to sift through and delve into, and Zarian was interested in the shiny big picture of it all. That way, he could know what spots were worth checking out on his partys’ journey to adventure and ascend in the Infinita Star System.
“Now, where shall I begin? Purgehunt and Purehome, hm?” Arnold asked musingly.
As everyone prepared for Arnold’s explanations of the greatest fighters of the Eternal Garden Kingdom, something caught Zarian’s attention through his Spectral Spider Network. The skill was still in his alpha section, making him sensitive to alerts from his surveying, scouting, and spying spiders.
A creature who shouldn’t be here or within the walls of a human civilization fell from the dark sky. They passed through the barrier and landed with a heavy thump.
Arnold perked up suddenly, turning slightly toward the new and troublesome arrival. Zarian was using his evil +2 to wipe away all normal reactions, such as panic, out of his body. He leaned on Tranquil Mind as he quickly thought of a solution.
“Arnold, you know what? I bet you’re a man of fine taste!” Zarian said cheerfully.
The change in his demeanor received weird looks from the others who were unaware of the trouble coming their way. Zarian had to work fast.
“Say, we have these amazing girls outside. But they’re sheltered girls and uncertain of who they want to spend their time with. In fact, the young men outside don’t really know what they’re doing. How about we guide, or, er, match make! Loosen up a little. We’ll figure out the case with those ‘bad’ White Roses later.”
Zarian ran his mouth using a portion of his Fractured Mind. He smoothly walked to Arnold’s side and tried to guide him out one of two doors leading in and out of the kitchen. Nobody interrupted him. Better yet, Naomi was the quickest to join Zarian and tried to guide the White Rose of Serveserf out.
“Yeah, what he said. Let’s have some fun. That’s a good way to know each other before we talk business. And you’ve helped us a bunch. We ought to pay you back first.”
Arnold laughed heartily despite the fragility of his life. He resisted their assistance to leave the kitchen and waved them off.
“No, no, no! I mustn’t be frivolous with the time we have now. You adventurers are on the cusp of accomplishing the most important of matters. The Hemlock Family’s library tomorrow, aye? And leading a noble expedition north to face the rampaging wolf dragons by next week’s time? Come now! The task to have you taught by this old man is quite a tall order!”
Zarian thought of using force, but decided against it. His spectral spiders failed to distract or turn away the newcomer. The best he could do was play damage control and hope for the best.
“Are you sure you need the teachings of such a weakling?” a gruff, barely feminine voice asked from behind the kitchen doors on the side of the dining area.
Hearing that voice again, Zarian’s heart raced from the memory of thinking himself dead when he’d crashed out. Thankfully, he had the evil alignment to help him remain cool. He shifted smoothly to an all-knowing and insufferable role, as if he’d always been this way.
“It took you long enough to reveal yourself. Did you really need that much time to think about my offer?” Zarian scoffed as he assumed a spot against the cabinets. “Come in, you mangy creature. And do think twice before you upset me.”
Threads of the Parasite Cloak sneaked around the kitchen. They reached up and entwined into thick tendrils near everyone except Bianca.
The tendrils pressed firmly against Arnold’s chest while he had his eyes locked on the doorway where the bestial voice had originated from. His scarred hand was on the silver sword.
A dirty, furry hand with sharp claws reached in through the top. It was larger than a bear’s paw. Then another hand reached in and snatched the other side of the door frame.
With a twist and wriggle, the immense gnoll elder slipped into the kitchen, forced to stoop down further than her usual ten-foot height, her long mangy locks for hair dragging on the floor.
She crept in all the way, leaving a trail of foul stains on the ceiling. Her dirty tribal rags barely covered her three pairs of breasts, her modesty mostly reliant on her fur. Jewelry made from her kills hung from her limbs and her neck.
“Children,” Arnold called, steel in his voice. “Am I under an illusion?”
“No,” Bianca squeaked.
“What do you have for me?” Zarian asked, keeping his attention on the gnoll elder.
“I bring news, oh powerful one.” The gnoll elder laughed like a hyena would. Her predatory eyes scanned the kitchen, eating up everyone except Zarian. “Though, we aren’t as acquainted as we should be for one who will train our rising gnolls to be better killers. We should fix that one night.”
“Pause,” Gilbert said before chugging from his mug of beer. Then he went to a spare beer cask and poured himself more. “Okay, continue.”
“What does she mean by ‘we aren’t as acquainted as we should be?’” Arnold sounded like he was going to choke and die on the spot.
Zarian kept ignoring him as the gnoll elder spoke further.
“Know me as Ezda, the Alpha Gnoll Elder. And know that you are now one of us, a gnoll elder,” Ezda declared.
Zarian heard a soft but urgent ‘ding’ in the back of his head. He didn’t bother looking right now.
Ezda smiled her rotten fangs at him. “We will expect great results before we proceed with our other plans.”
“What other plans?” Arnold demanded.
Zarian prepared his best alpha skill. The shadows in the room darkened. The floor became pitch black like oil. The air became darker. He was ready to crash out if necessary.
Ezda snickered dastardly in Arnold’s direction before saying, “White Rose of Serveserf, you killed my favorite sons and grandsons years ago.”
“You’ve eaten my brothers alive, Alpha Elder Ezda, you horrid savage!” the White Rose spat.
The tension in the kitchen was so thick Zarian doubted anyone could cut through it completely. He needed to get these two out of here without them fighting.
He was a little stumped on how to do that and maintain a good relationship with Arnold of Ambrose. His evil +2 relied on the type of cunning that was too treacherous.
“Is it a bad time to mention I need to use the ladies’ room?” Bianca squeaked. “You know how with more levels and vitality we can last longer without doing normal human stuff? I haven’t used the ladies’ room for a long time and I should go do that before I have an accident in my pretty, pretty dress, por favor.”
There was a long silence, and Bianca was left to wriggle in discomfort as she waited. Gilbert kept chugging beer and refilling his mug when it was empty. Naomi stood ready to fight. Hannah watched with wide eyes.
Zarian hoped his Wonder stat would prevail for him.
Finally, Ezda broke the tense silence with another hyena-like laugh. Then she nodded her head at Zarian.
“My fellow elder of the Blood Prairie Savages, I shall take my leave. We will reconvene when you leave behind the kingdom of prey and tributes.” Ezda moved to go out the way she came.
Zarian nearly felt relieved. Nearly. Instead, he caught sight of Arnold about to lash out, losing himself to old rage.
Everything became chaotic and messy from there, forcing Zarian to have a ‘minor crash out’ moment by ejecting Ezda whence she came: the sky.
By the time it all ended, Naomi and Hannah had to comfort a hysterical Bianca because she pissed herself while still wearing the elven princess dress. Gilbert found an undestroyed cask of beer and began to empty it directly from the tap to his mouth.
Zarian was left with a major headache that kept him up for the rest of the night. He came to realize politics wasn’t simply badass action and big baller moves all the time.
He actually had to think a little more.