Chapter 1 - Adventure Was Overrated

Lightning struck.
That was the weird part. Every single time, practically without fail, there was lightning. Why did prophetic battles always involve lightning?
I stood at the top of my empire, the large spire that the world had dubbed the Tower of Coal. Stars, I hated that name. I hated it almost as much as I hated the title I’d earned dozens of times. The title that had existed long before I’d ever existed. The Lord of Dusk.
It bound me… Left me fated to this fight I’d lost time and time again. From the balcony, I could see the battlefield littered with death. There were scores of bodies. People fighting and dying for a prophecy and a world that would never remember their names. For every powerful warrior that had sided with the Hero of Legend… with Frederick… at least two of the large beasts I’d enthralled had fallen. In that battle, beasts and humans alike died. Slaughtered like they were nothing more than fodder.
So many always died.
The siege had gone on for days now, the assault on the tower a slow but relentless attack as Frederick led the last of his party up the many floors to this room. I looked up at the moon, full and bright, shining down on us through cracks in the stormy sky and I could hear the battle raging just outside the door.
“Faster than usual… hopefully tired then,” I said, reaching for the dark, menacing blade I’d laid to the side. The black metal glowed purple as I lifted it and I turned to face the far side of the space.
“Corbin!” A booming voice called as the doors crashed open, a blinding light filling the room. “I tried to tell you it didn’t have to be like this!”
A man in a full set of shining blue armor stood, his shield raised at the front of the group, Gregory as always ready for the first strike. My hand twitched and a powerful blast of dark red fire rushed them from the side.
“Protection!” Gwendoline sang, a shining barrier of Dawn blocking the powerful ball of fire I’d thrown toward the tank. Using Dusk would have been a waste even if she hadn’t blocked.
Others might have met these people on a battlefield. They might have brought backup or set traps. I knew that none of that mattered. It never mattered. If I couldn’t do this by myself, then I couldn’t do it at all. I needed to kill him to escape. I needed to be done. Yet even if the universe was listening, I knew it didn’t care.
Lightning struck again.
Frederick rushed forward and our swords clashed. Once it became clear words wouldn’t change things, he never hesitated. That was the worst thing I’d learned about him in the many years. Not his strength or the prophecy, and certainly not his royal lineage. It was his sheer, unrelenting certainty in his own capabilities.
The tower threatened to collapse from the sheer force of power that echoed out. Frederick stumbled backward and I used the momentary disruption to strike. Not at him, because his defenses were still up. And not because I wanted to… or out of hate… I struck because if I didn’t, she’d never stop healing him.
A blade of shadow sliced through Gwendoline before she could react, the gem hanging at her neck flying away, a dark cloud quick to overtake it. As he always did when she was slain, Gregory panicked. His stance faltered and with a snap, I’d caught him in a Stoneroot trap. He was pulled down into the stone, further and further until he’d be struggling for air. It wouldn’t work on Frederick, I’d tried it dozens of times and it never worked.
This was as far as I’d ever come and I didn’t let the success distract me. Unfortunately, losing his friends only spurred Frederick on more. With each blow, it almost felt like reality itself wanted to rip apart. It might have been minutes or hours, I had no idea. But eventually, as he always did, Frederick got the best of me.
I’d tried to surrender, multiple times even. Frederick always thought it was a trick.
I’d tried every single class I thought might best him. But Frederick was always stronger.
I’d tried killing him the moment I met him. Only to be killed when he was resurrected by Gwendoline’s Natural Trait that protected him from the moment she Activated right alongside me.
It didn’t matter who I killed or how fervently I plotted to finally end the Hero’s party. Somehow… it almost always ended in a room nearly identical to this one.
A powerful blow came down and two cries of pain echoed out. One that ended in a gurgle… and the other in a sob. Then, darkness overtook everything… it lingered, always long enough to make me think it was finally over. But like always… it unfortunately wasn’t.
[Natural Trait Activated: Escape Artist!] You have died! This trait has automatically activated to prevent the erasure of your soul! Your essence has returned to the moment of system activation. Congratulations, you reached Level 99 before your death. Your Prestige rank has increased to 50. All base stats are increased by 5. Your soul-bound Bag of Endless Depth has been retained. All uncommon and lower ranked items have been retained. All currency has been retained. Please select your new class at your earliest convenience. Please reach Level 5 to unlock your preexisting Spell List.
I let out a long, slow sigh, staring at the cup of ale sitting in front of me. My nose scrunched at it, the taste a bitter memory as several system prompts disappeared from my vision. As far as I was concerned, all of that nonsense could wait.
The Dawn of Adventure was one of the few taverns in North’s Edge, not that I could have chosen where I woke back up any longer or how entirely on the nose the name of it was. It had been the first place I’d discovered when I’d arrived in this world, and it certainly wasn’t anything special. But, because it’s where I was when I got stuck in this nightmare, I was painfully familiar with it.
My hand tightened on the mug in front of me, my mind mentally ticking down the last few seconds I had before it started again. The ale swirled, for some reason reminding me of a life long ago, when I’d once found peace in the stuff. I heard a yelp off to the side, the sound that always signaled his arrival.
Sitting far in the corner of the tavern, with bright blonde hair—far untouched by the grey that would grow to dominate it—and the dull robes of a small-town holy woman, was the very priestess I’d only just struck down. She was nearly forty years younger now, a bit of naivety still present, and was maybe too instantly recognizably devout… but instantly recognizable all the same.
“Three… Two…” I murmured, watching out of the corner of my eye as Gwendoline jumped with surprise.
Granted, for most people, unless you were already Activated or licensed for registry work, the sudden appearance of floating text boxes in the middle of your vision was… well… surprising. But I still felt the way she knocked over the mugs, spilling ale over the tables, was a bit excessive. Clearly embarrassed, she sat back, touching the crystal-clear Dawngem hanging from her neck as she calmed her breathing.
“I was so close…” I muttered, looking to the other side of the tavern.
A big, burly man with dark skin and a large afro was swiping a hand in front of his face, trying to wipe the screen away to no avail. Gregory looked odd out of his custom-made Shieldmaster gear, but his potential as a tank was unmistakable. Other times I might have laughed at the display he was putting on, knowing just how he was. But this time… this time I just felt tired.
How many collective years had gone by since I’d been brought here? It had to be over a thousand at this point… My mind buzzed, a migraine making itself known as I thought about it. Although… that headache could’ve easily been forming just because I knew what was coming through the front door in precious little time.
I’d grown to dread his arrival and his demand for adventure. Mostly because adventure was overrated.
“You gonna drink that, son? Gonna miss its peak flavor if yah let it get too warm.”
“Eh, it makes for a better poison starter if you let it go bad,” I said, swirling it slightly before looking up at Chuck, the bartender. “Your ale tastes like you started to serve it before it had time to properly finish. It’s way too slick and that’s not even mentioning that you’re either storing your hops wrong or someone sold you stale ones. I mean really, ale shouldn’t taste like cheese.”
“Sheesh, I’ve seen you take one sip and you think all that?” Chuck asked, a brow lifting. “You some kind of expert brewer?”
“Not lately. Just don’t care for bad booze,” I said, swirling the ale again before setting it down. I’d found peace with brewing once before, I just hadn’t been careful… Maybe if I did it right… maybe for once the prophecy would be about someone else… It was a desperate, dumb wish and I knew it… But I was tired… and maybe willing to try something dumb.
The sun was shining through the front windows, glinting annoyingly off of some glass trinkets littered throughout and I could hear the sound of heavy footsteps climbing the stairs at the front of the building. Only a moment later the doors were shoved open and a raven-haired man with silver eyes and a square jaw let out a hearty cheer.
“Hiho citizens! I’m looking for three brave, newly Activated adventurers to join me on a quest to prevent-“
I pushed away from the bar, the stool scraping loudly over the wood floors as I stood up. The oaf smiled wide, his arms spreading and hands opening like he was going to hug me.
“By the goddess, we already have one of our noble–“
I placed a few silver coins on the counter, turned, and walked right past him and the knowing glint in his eyes. He didn’t have to ask who was going to join him, his unique trait alone was enough for that and the fake call had always annoyed me.
“Wait, where are you going?! Adventure awaits!”
“Not interested in adventure really. Actually, I think I’m gonna try farming. Already got a few hop plants I could propagate. Might take some time, but I bet I could show the bars around the kingdom what good booze’s ‘spose to taste like,” I said with a wave over my shoulder.
“No, you don’t understand! The prophecy says I must be joined by the three adventurers that are Activated by my Royal Presence trait! If that’s you, then it means you’re supposed to join my party and go on a grand adventure to stop the great evil that’s coming to our world!”
“Nah, doesn’t sound like my kinda thing. Now where to start… I think I’m gonna find some cheap land a bit out of the way somewhere,” I said, tapping my chin while continuing to walk toward the edge of town.
I hoped that Frederick would leave it at that. Unfortunately, the man was unrelenting. He was always unrelenting.
“Now now, I know adventure is scary, but you must feel the call don’t you?” Frederick insisted, hurrying to keep up with me.
“Nah, no call coming through here. I’d really suggest–”
“My lord prince! I’m ready to follow you!” A reserved but firm voice called out. My head throbbed again, but I bit back the pain before nodding over my shoulder at Gwendoline.
“See, look at that, you don’t need me. Plenty of people who want adventure that aren’t me.” I continued walking, looking off toward the gate as I started to really put together a plan. “I’ll need to make sure to file the proper permits… last thing I need is someone bothering me because of bad paperwork.”
“But-“
“Have a good adventure, remember me when you finally have some good ale in a few months. Or don’t! Don’t is always an option, and a better one at that!” I cut him off with another dismissive wave.
Frederick seemed like he was going to keep chasing me when I heard Gregory trip through the door, nearly bowling Gwendoline over when he stumbled down the stairs.
“Sir! Dawn has risen and I’m ready to serve!”
“Good riddance,” I muttered, thankful that Frederick was forced to turn to the pair trying to grab his attention. “Okay, that’s enough of that, let’s focus on what matters… where to start if I’m actually going to do this. Can’t exactly plant anything without a spot to do it…”
I thought about it for a moment, considering the options that would work best and where I could reasonably avoid dealing with as much of the crown as possible.
There was a place just out past Gold’s Lodge if I was remembering correctly… Danwood, I think it was called. It was remote and exceptionally neglected from the little I’d read about it. Plus it was at the end of a road to nowhere but not so far out of the way that I’d have little to no reason to actually grow anything. That would do.
There was a wagon that was just heading out of town with a few older travelers sitting under the canopy. I would have preferred not to take a wagon if I could help it, but without my Flight or Translocate spells, I’d have to do things the regular way. It was something I’d have to remedy as quickly as I could.
I always had the option to hang out in town for a few days, hunt a few beasts in the woods just outside of the gates toward the Misery Mountains or… wait no… weren’t they called the Mountains of Mystery normally?
Well regardless of what they were called, the land between them and the northern gates of North’s Edge were prime for any new adventurer seeking to gain enough experience to level up a few times. And that meant Frederick and his new party would be headed right there to get started the moment he gave up on the idea of recruiting me.
There were bound to be beasts near Danwood, I’d just have to be regular for a few days. I could do that. After lifetimes of action, slow might be a welcome change of pace.