The Legendary Fool - Chapter 117: The Gatekeeper

117:

As odd as it was, Tom was no stranger to long distance teleportation. Or well, at least not completely new to it, if what the cosplaying maniac that had barged into his convenience store and irrevocably changed his life had used had indeed been teleportation.

Tom hadn’t exactly been in the best frame of mind back then to remember what was happening to him, but the portal he had been tricked into definitely felt different than the pressure that enveloped his body before yanking his entire being in a direction.

He couldn’t tell what direction that had been, forward, backwards or sideways, but when he had been kicked into the portal by that maniac, he had not felt any sensation at all, comforting or discomforting.

It was simply as if he had stepped outside his own door, the change in the texture beneath his feet and the atmosphere around him the only noticeable difference.

Tom wondered what that realization meant. The maniac’s teleportation had caused him less discomfort across worlds and for all he knew, entire universes than the single use teleportation cards that they had received from the Longstradia Family inheritance had within Artezia.

Just how powerful had he been?

Tom wasn’t sure if he was ready for that answer just yet, in case he came looking.

Thankfully, his attention was captivated by something he suspected to eclipse even the tremendous power that the bearded man had possessed.

Before Tom was a tower.

The very air around him rippled with endless energy, a magic so great that Tom suspected to far transcend what even his Ephemeral card at it’s peak strength was capable of.

It’s polished stone surface was untouched by age or corruption, endless inscriptions running up it’s surface, vaguely resembling glyphs in places but infinitely more complex than them.

He gaped as he slowly turned his gaze to the side, until his neck was craned to his right. He saw no end to the tower, only a slight curvature that continued on into the distance. The foliage of a forest announced itself in the distance, but it failed to hold Tom’s attention.

His focus shifted back to the set of double doors that barred his entrance to the tower, a dark, obsidian metal that was covered in looping curls that seemed to be part of a larger fractal, a giant loop that both enveloped and contained the other, smaller ringlets.

Tom’s breath caught in his throat.

They weren’t ready for this. They weren’t ready for the greatest and final challenge that Artezia had to offer, the Tower of Endless Horizons.

But they were here.

Tom had to be approaching the limits of the stats that people could earn on the surface world, assuming that Rare was the greatest rarity they could manage to receive cards of. But that didn’t mean that the rest of his cards were anywhere near hitting the level cap or that he had learned enough from the countless other dungeons, towers and rifts scattered across the kingdoms.

They had reached the end of the journey far sooner than they had prepared for.

The sound of a person clearing their throat sounded out from behind them.

Tom, Zirel and Aleph spun.

The next moment, their weapons were drawn without exchanging a word. They were no longer in familiar territory. Hell, they weren’t even in the same damn kingdom.

Their common sense no longer applied.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Their gazes were greeted by a brown-haired man who had an intimidatingly sharp glaive strapped to his back. A jagged scar began from his forehead and curved around his right eye, eyes that shone a rare crimson. He was clad in a chainmail that seemed to be forged from the scales of a beast of some sort, one with white scales that bled red around its periphery.

The platelegs were much the same, protecting his legs while seeming like they granted enough flexibility. The gray sabatons that the brown-haired man wore seemed well-made, revealing no information besides their metal make.

“Impressive cloaking,” The brown-haired man remarked, his gravelly tone breaking the silence between the two groups.

There were three of them, but the man was only one— yet he remained calm, with his weapon yet to be drawn and his breathing calm, almost relaxed.

Tom’s eyes narrowed as he questioned, “Who are you?”

“You sneak past me with your cloaking and pretend to not know who I am?” The brown-haired man asked incredulously, his raspy words spoken in an accent that was punctuated by abrupt starts and stops that seemed too natural to be done with intent to annoy or offend.

Tom’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.

“Very well, your inclination to keep your cards to your chest is wise— both literally and figuratively,” The brown-haired man nodded in approval, before he allowed himself a chuckle at his own joke. “It appears that your cloaking ran out at an unfortunate time, though.”

Tom’s expression betrayed nothing as he realized that the man before them suspected that they had snuck past him using either stealth or invisibility instead of teleporting directly before the entrance to the tower.

He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, but it did mean that the person before them wasn’t some sort of powerhouse. Or at least… he hoped so.

“If you claim to be uninitiated of my presence, then I shall answer. I am the Gatekeeper and you are three children with a deathwish. Now, toss your weapons, armor and everything else in your inventory onto a pile before you and get out of here before I change my mind,” The self-proclaimed gatekeeper declared, his greed leaking into his raspy voice.

“The Gatekeeper?” Tom repeated, sounding far from impressed. “That’s an awfully jumped up title for a thief,” He replied.

“A thief?” The Gatekeeper asked, his tone tinged with hurt as he shook his head. “Foolish kid, I am no thief. How old are you, twenty? Twenty one?” The Gatekeeper, who looked to be in his early thirties, asked.

“Eighteen,” Tom replied, seeing no reason to be dishonest.

“Well,” The Gatekeeper allowed a dry chuckle to escape him. “The fact that you’re here, kid, means that nobody gives a damn about you. Or you pissed someone you shouldn’t have pissed off and are now running to the only place where they can’t find you. I fought in the battle of the Zarihn Pass before you were born and I survived it,” He said, puffing his chest outwards with pride.

Tom blinked and then exchanged a questioning glance with Aleph.

Aleph replied with an unknowing shrug.

“A soldier, then. Robbing children, is that your pastime?” Tom asked, even as he focused Active Shroud—Maya to reveal the amount of Soul Power it would take to breach the man’s mental defenses.

Tom’s lips curled up into a smile.

It was as he had thought. Maya wasn’t a perfect representation of strength, but if sixty five soul power was all it took to peek into the Gatekeeper’s mind, he couldn’t be that strong.

The Gatekeeper’s expression darkened, as he replied with a snarl, “You’re mistaking kindness for weakness, boy. Your cloaking might’ve gotten you past the encirclement, but you’re mistaken if you’re treating me as an ordinary member of the Shadow Guild.”

“An encirclement?” Tom quizzed. “You ambush people trying to get to the tower. Why?”

“Still playing dumb, eh?” The Gatekeeper shook his head in annoyance, but didn’t attack. “The only people that come here are those that have nothing to lose, kid. Pretending to be mysterious isn’t going to cut it. The occasional powerhouse does pass through, but they make their presence well known and certainly don’t run around with cloaking. Give it up and toss your stuff lad, I don’t want to kill novices today.”

“Oh?” Tom smiled at the man. “Are you sure that I am not one of those powerhouses, then?” Tom asked.

The Gatekeeper chucked in response and then shook his head, his features hardening.

“Last chance,” The Gatekeeper said, as he finally reached for his glaive and held it aloft in a single hand.

“I’d say the same thing to you, but I don’t think you’d listen,” Tom replied, before blurring forward without holding back in the slightest.

His opponent thought him weak. There was a chance that the man was far stronger than him without having many secrets worth his time, but that gave Tom all the more reason to strike.

His strength wouldn’t matter if he was dead, after all.