Vol. 2 Ch. 42: The undercurrents

Author's Note:

Recurring Characters:

Peter: The main lead of this novel.

Avaris: The goddess of healing.

Lady Anselma: The arch priestess of Avaris in the city of Rosefall.

Aldemar: The holy knight commander in Rosefall.

Garridan: The viscount who rules Rosefall.

Lady Nyara: The arch cultist of abyss in rosefall.

Recap:

She wanted to believe that no matter what path he chose, he would be fine. For today, at least, that belief felt easier to hold.

...End of Author Note...

...

Peter opened his status once Mariah left the room to offer a helping hand to Matteo and Lidia. He was sure to gain a great deal of experience after the fight at the gang hideout.

Status...

[

Name: Peter

Race: Human

Class: Joker {Rare} lv. 50, Villager lv. 1

Level: 51

Age: 10

Title: Trailblazer: Skills, Skill Creator, Kobold Slayer, True Cultist, The Walking Calamity, Truth Sage

Stats:

Health: 670 (Cons * 10)

Mana: 3360 (Spirit * 10) 

Constitution: 67                  Spirit: 336

Strength:  45                       Agility: 45

Dexterity: 15

Intelligence: 46                   Perception: 20

Luck: 35                              Charisma: 45

Free slots points: 24

Skills:

IDE, Status Camouflage, Mana sense Lv. 41, Mana Manipulation Lv. 25, Weapons Mastery Lv. 27, Undying Vitality Lv. 38, Split Focus, Eternal Ward lv. 35, Spirit of Fortitude lv. 47, Inspect lv 25, Summoning, Cooking. lv 2

Summons:

Deathknell lv. 221

Status:

Inner Fatigue

A favour for a favour

]

Peter noted that he had levelled up 8 times. It made sense since the gang members he defeated, including the mage, were likely at the peak of tier one, if not already in tier two. He wondered if what followed after he lost consciousness might have contributed some experience too. It hadn't been long since he gained his first class, not even half a year. His growth has been unprecedented so far.

He had reached level fifty-one at the age of ten. How many people can accomplish something like that? Maybe royalty and like only?

Peter knew that he had been getting so much experience only because he was fighting enemies way above his level. The moment he stopped encountering such people, he would see his growth slowing down.

Of course, class level and stat growth aren't the only factors that contribute to growth in power. He thought as his gaze lowered toward the skills. Even if I stop getting levels in class, I can still grow by focusing on increasing the level of my skills and gaining new skills.

Just after a glance, he easily found the skills that experienced the most growth--Undying Vitality, Spirit of Fortitude, and Eternal Ward. All three of them were heavily utilised in the fight, both before he lost consciousness and after.

Peter was glad to see them grow, as today was a perfect example of how useful they were. He had to admit that they weren't perfect. They weren't able to protect him when the resonance between his titles and the abyss had allowed Deathknell to take over his body. But without them, he wouldn't have been able to take it back from the eldritch entity.

He was hopeful that once the skills reached a certain level, they would be able to resist the influence of higher powers as well.

After them were Weapons Mastery, Mana Manipulation, and Mana Sense, each of them gaining a couple of levels, and improving Peter's control over his body and mana. Besides these two sets of skills, other skills received minuscule growth that wasn't worth thinking about at the moment.

Peter moved on to the status and focused on Inner Fatigue. A transparent, blue screen opened.

Inner Fatigue...

[

Effect: Mana regeneration reduced by 30%.

Duration: 7 days

Description: Strain on both mind and spirit leaves you weakened, slowing the natural recovery of mana until rest mends the damage. This condition cannot be forcefully healed using available skills.

]

Guess I won't be working on the IDE until this condition ends, Peter mused. Thankfully, I can focus on reading these books.

He moved on to the next thing. He knew what it was, but it wouldn't hurt to take a better look at the contract that the Goddess forcefully imposed on him to save her saintess from harm.

A favour for a favour...

[

Type: Binding Agreement

Effect: Establishes a reciprocal obligation between two parties.

Description: Avaris, the goddess of healing, has done you a great favour by healing your mother, Mariah, thus putting you in her debt. You are bound to return a favour of equal or greater weight. The contract does not dictate the nature of the returned favour, but it ensures fulfilment—betrayal or refusal brings consequences upon the oathbreaker. Until the favour is returned, you can't harm the mortal shell of Avaris.

]

Peter carefully read the description. While he didn't like the fact that this contract was imposed on him without his consent, he couldn't help but agree that Avaris had done a great favour to him by healing his mother. Even without this contract, he'd have tried to somehow repay her by giving her a helping hand in a time of need. She had truly earned his goodwill by her kind act, even if it was a calculated move or not.

Peter closed the description windows before finally adding points to his stats. He had a total of twenty-four points from gaining eight levels. As a rare grade class, Joker provided him with 3 free points at each level, along with singular points in both constitution and spirit.

He added five points each on both Strength and Agility, bringing them to fifty points. After that, he ended up putting all his remaining free stats in intelligence, pushing it to sixty.

Once he was done, he closed the status window and picked up one of the books that he had looted from the wizard. Opening it, he started to read it from the beginning.

Just before he was going to read the first chapter, he wondered how the saintness was doing currently.

...

“How is he-umm..she doing?” Aldemar asked, his voice carrying genuine concern and guilt. 

“Don't worry so much, Aldemar,” The arch priestess gave a tired smile. “It's nothing so egregious that she can't recover from it. She’s unconscious, yes, but that's to be expected. Being a divine vessel is not an easy job. It takes a toll on not just the body, but the mind and soul too.” 

“Also,” she added. “I recommend that you quickly start treating the saintess as a woman…at least in public. You can refer to her as whatever she would like to be preferred, but not in public. That's another of her burdens. Sad as it may seem.” 

“It's a cruel fate,” The knight commander muttered before sighing. 

“Nothing can be done,” Lady Anselma said, looking outside the window. “To be a saint or saintess candidate, one needs to have the divine vessel skill…and the moment a chosen divine being uses them as a vessel to descend on the mortal realm, the vessel's physical body turns to permanently reflect the spirit of the divine.”

“It's not like he didn't know about it. He did, but his faith in the goddess is strong. Maybe even stronger than you and me,” she said, smiling ruefully. “He was willing to bear a lifetime of hardship if that could help him make the world a much better place, if that would allow him to help those in need.”

“When will the saintess wake up?” Aldemar asked, not wanting to continue the topic. He felt sad for the youngster and wished him strength to face the hardships life and society would throw at him in the future. 

“In a few days at the very latest, but it could very well take weeks,” Anselma said. 

"It's my fault, my lady. If I were there on time, this could have been prevented. I have sinned." 

"What would you have done, Aldemar?" Anselma said, her voice sharp, her eyes narrowed. "The goddess left because she sensed the Abyss. The chaos incarnate isn't something you or I can deal with. Just thank the mother. If it wasn't for her intervention, who knows what the abyss would have done to the city?"

"The pious are starting to worry, my lady. Mother's divine domain hasn't recovered its shine," Aldemar said. 

"I've received a message from the pope. The goddess has been weakened during her clash with the Abyss and has entered into a slumber that will last a few years. But her moon will regain its light in a few hours, so tell the pious and the others that everything is well. The dimness was only caused because the goddess descended among us." 

Aldemar nodded, a serious expression on his face. 

"Now is the time to act, Aldemar," Anselma said, her face stone cold. "Have you found who that house belonged to?"

"I did," Aldemar nodded, his palms curling into fists. "It was a hideout of the Thorns gang. To think they would stoop so low as to align themselves with the Abyss..." His face twisted into disgust. 

"Deal with them. We'd remained quiet about those scum so far because they had nobles backing them, but I don't care now. If someone comes to their defence, make sure that they, too, know what judgment tastes like." 

"Already on it, my lady." 

...

Laughter echoed out in the undergrowth cavern as Lady Nyara had trouble holding her delight. 

"Oh, Abyss. Oh, true luminary. You've proven once again your greatness. I bow to you in reverence," She said, hugging the statue's legs while lying on the ground. 

"All of them combined couldn't stop you from injuring Avaris so much that she fell into a slumber." She laughed more. "Truly! You're the only truth in this world. Rest...They are all just false."

"I pity them, I truly do. To think they can't see beyond this illusion." She shook her head wildly, a crooked smile on her face. 

"Lady Nyara," said one of the cultists sitting some distance away.

"Yes?" 

"Aldemar is leading the charge and sweeping the whole city for any sign that could point to us. What are your order commands?" 

"Let that fool keep trying. Just stay hidden for now. After a few months, he'll have no choice but to give up," Nyara replied, rubbing her face against the toes of the statue. 

"We've all the time in the world now that the abyss has shown us the way. Avaris is asleep now, and others don't have much influence in this kingdom. We'll act only when we're fully prepared," she added.

"...What is the way? Tell us too." The man murmured, almost like begging. 

Nyara chuckled. "Of course," she said. "Who am I to hide the wisdom of the Abyss? The path of salvation lies only through chaos, and only when the abyss fully takes over this world...will there be true chaos. Only then!" 

"What we must do now is to sacrifice the saintess of Avaris to the abyss, allowing her to descend, and end this illusion and bring true salvation," she added. 

...

"Look what has become of you." The viscount chuckled, a mocking expression on his face as he looked at the leader of the Thorns' gang.

Marrek remained silent, his head bowed as he stood in the study room.

"They're calling you an abyss cultist," Garridan chuckled again.

"We've nothing to do with the cultists," Marrek muttered weakly.

"You know that, I know that—but who's going to believe you?" Garridan asked, his lips curled in an amused smile. "The moment you step out in public, they'll tie you to a stake and burn you alive."

Marrek ground his teeth, knowing all too well that it was true.

Garridan leaned back in his chair, swirling the wine in his glass lazily.

"But don’t worry," he said with a sly grin. "At least I believe you… for now, that is."

Marrek lifted his head slightly, suspicion flickering in his eyes.

"What do you want from me?" he asked, his voice tight.

The viscount’s chuckle was soft this time, almost gentle, though no kindness touched his gaze. "Ah, finally. Straight to the point. What I want, Marrek, is simple—your loyalty. Give me that, and I’ll make sure you stay hidden from the clutches of the Knight Commander."

Marrek’s fists clenched at his sides. "Wasn’t I loyal to you before as well?"

Garridan nodded slowly. "Yes, you were… but that loyalty always came at a price. Now, I’m no longer willing to pay anything more than your safety for it."

Marrek’s jaw tightened. "So my life is the only coin you’re willing to spend now?"

Garridan smirked over the rim of his glass before taking a slow sip. "Exactly. Your life, your loyalty, your silence. That is the bargain."

Marrek’s stomach churned. He hated the way Garridan spoke—as though he already owned him, as though every word was a chain tightening around his throat.

Garridan leaned forward now, his eyes glinting with cold amusement. "So tell me, Marrek. Will you cling to pride… or to life?"

...End of Chapter...