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Chapter 87: Farewell

Besides, everyone had survived on his side. His party had grown stronger with new personal levels and skill levels. They all looked more experienced, more capable, and more understanding of each other’s new abilities and new tricks.

When Para finished eating, Zarian stored away as many decent corpses as he could get in the cloak’s pocket dimension. It was a good idea to stock up now, just in case. He took some time for himself and sat in a wagon before feeding his own voracious appetite after a big battle.

Naomi was napping in one of two comfort wagons reserved for Zarian’s party. Hannah held onto the dungeon core as it continued to evolve. She slipped into the crafting wagon organized for her.

Bianca was bouncing and frolicking around the caravan with a bunch of spectral spiders riding on the hem of her dress. Gilbert rode on his eight-legged steed while working with Roland and Lora to get their people moving out of Central Bramblevale and into the wilds.

Zarian relaxed with a big meaty leg of poultry in one hand while waving at the people saying goodbye.

He saw the little boot girl and her friends waving the hardest from the front. He caught sight of the Infernal Witch glaring in the shadow of an alley before she nodded at him and turned to stalk away.

Zarian nodded in return before looking back up the road leading to the mansions. He watched the Lovewar Barrier fade away, its purpose completed.

When the caravan turned a corner, they left behind friendly faces and entered a more barren street where guards and soldiers watched with hostile intent. Of course, they kept their mouths shut and their weapons and magic to themselves.

Zarian watched them in return with a cheeky grin, since he knew they couldn’t do a god-damn thing.

He’d defeated their strongest guardians.

He’d broken the power held here by their lord and their gods.

He had powerful agents, such as the Hemlock Family, who were going to carry out the favor he owed Lovewar.

It all looked great for him. However, this would all come as a sacrifice to his official status. He wouldn’t get to be a true High Rose Noble of the Eternal Garden Kingdom, and the nobility status of everyone in the caravan wouldn’t stick either.

They were without nobles, and they were pariahs of the kingdom.

Zarian didn’t care. He had the noble status papers signed by Lord Cassian. And Zarian could make for a convincing liar if needed where they were going.

As they neared the main gate, Zarian saw Arnold quickly catch up to the side of his wagon. They weren’t moving that fast, but the White Rose of Serveserf would’ve easily run them down regardless.

“Level 74, huh?” Zarian said from over the side of the wagon. “Congrats.”

Arnold chuckled. “I didn’t even feel you using any means to scan me.”

“I’ve gotten better at being subtle.”

Arnold took a gander toward the demolished district where Zarian had fought Rickard, Darius, and the former Bramblevale Bandits. While Arnold made a solid point without saying a word, Zarian acted oblivious and above it all.

Zarian was a Madness Wizard. How could he live up to his legendary class without some unsubtle destruction?

“While your means can be questionable, you certainly live up to having a character that is powerful and good at heart,” Arnold said. “The perfect example of using evil for the greater good.”

“Nah, I wouldn’t say I use ‘evil for the greater good.’ While that’s a politically correct saying, I’m more of a person who chooses to do good with the great power of evil.”

Arnold laughed. “I suppose that holds some measure of truth. You’ve left yourself irreproachable in your philosophies, to be fair. You’ve won a battle against the kingdom’s greatest powers and ensured there were no casualties regarding the innocent. You’ve even delivered upon me a gift that could’ve earned you a fortune. Each of those levels was highly valued and worth an incredible amount. Are you certain about what you’ve given me?”

Zarian finished his meal and let Para lick around his fingers and face with little tongue-like tendrils. She left not a crumb or spot of grease.

Then he lounged further back in his corner of the wagon, which was made of strong wood and some enchantments that smoothened the ride whenever a wheel struck a bump in the road despite the lack of proper suspension systems.

Each wagon had a resilient tarp for an overhead covering and some arched wooden frames bent over the top. Zarian’s wagon had no tarp above, leaving it open to the sunny day.

The tarp was folded into a seat under him.

The suns didn’t bother him much anymore as long as he kept a thin layer of darkness between him and the light. Thus, he could have a comfortable ride and lounge about and act all slothfully.

He took his time to reply to Arnold’s question about the certainty of his actions regarding the levels that could’ve net Zarian a fortune or sped up his own growth. The answer was simple.

“I do what I want.”

Arnold stumbled from hearing that. Then the old man broke into a howl of laughter before bending over and suffering a bad coughing fit.

Seeing him suffer some bad coughs reminded Zarian of Arnold’s old age and dwindling life energy. The man wasn’t far off from ascension if he could make it to Level 100, which Zarian knew as the level for the second class advancement as well.

“You should grind your way up to Level 100,” Zarian said.

Arnold waved him off. “I’ve let go of such smoldering ambitions a long time ago. You and your friends are better off getting there than me. Instead, I’d like to spend more time helping those in need.”

Arnold straightened up, his hands behind the small of his back. They were getting closer to the gate. Arnold spoke softly, but clearly.

“This kingdom always had its problems. But those problems have grown more despicable and selfish these past recent years. I knew things would come to a head a while ago. Especially when they outlawed adventurers. The kingdom was cannibalizing itself to maintain control while fighting multiple battles on different fronts.”

“Mm,” Zarian hummed.

He had a vague idea of the other fights and wars the Eternal Garden Kingdom had in various locations. The gnolls weren’t their only concern. Which was why the deaths of three White Roses in Central Bramblevale were going to spell doom for the current regime.

Lovewar was probably laughing and dancing up there in god land, because her investment in Zarian was going to pay off big. Well, big was relative in a lesser world.

For someone like Lovewar who dominated as one of the fourteen major gods of Infinita, the strongest and most influential beings of the Star System, Zarian imagined what happened here was small in the grand scheme of things.

Granted, in a game of adventure and ascension, every investment in the smaller worlds can make huge returns in the larger worlds, and those huge returns can benefit or hurt the gods depending on how they roll the dice.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Evil God Sinfeast, for example, rolled badly on Zarian. Even Killall didn’t have it as bad compared to Sinfeast, at least in Zarian’s view. But that tale of promised vengeance was not something Zarian was going to ruminate on while talking to a friend.

“Would the kingdom get overtaken by another?” Zarian asked.

Arnold sighed. “I pray not. I hope the people ready for a change will rise to the occasion from within our borders.”

“Such a loyalist,” Zarian teased.

“Go easy on this old man, for it is hard to change. However, I will do my best. I can’t consider myself as a White Rose anymore. But I’m still the Silver Guardian, and I need not be a guardian of the royal family of Golden Roses to be a guardian of the people.”

“The Silver Guardian of Serveserf, huh?” Zarian nodded. “Has a nice ring to it. I guess I can’t convince you with my evil ways to be a bit more selfish, can I?”

Arnold looked up and down the caravan with a glimmer in the corner of his eye.

There was Zarian’s party, which comprised five Floridians. There were the ten runic skeletons who were on guard around the caravan.

There were one hundred and thirty-three disenfranchised young men. Then there were one hundred and fifty-six acolytes of Lovewar, whose numbers had blown up recently when acolytes from all around Central Bramblevale came out of hiding and joined the caravan.

All the young women rode in the wagons with the food and supplies. All the young men walked and tried to act dignified and ready for the road while under more female attention than they’d received all their life.

Almost all of them were in their teens. Many were between the ages of twelve and sixteen. Hell, Roland was the only one who was twenty, while Lora was seventeen.

They were practically a gathering of two hundred and eighty-nine puppies and kittens. Bright eyed. Bushy tailed. Uncertain of the future. Completely at the mercy of Zarian’s party and the elements that waited beyond.

The young men and women hadn’t even realized how ostracized and unattached they were from the mechanisms of the kingdom. Not yet, at least.

Zarian had eavesdropped through his spectral spiders in plenty of conversations about how most of them didn’t have good reasons to return to families. Most of them were orphans. Roland had a family, but they sounded toxic.

“You say you wish to convince me to be more selfish, aye?” Arnold chuckled as he took another gander up and down the caravan. “But how can I follow such sound advice when you aren’t following it?”

“Don’t you know it’s in my nature to be contradicting and unpredictable?” Zarian chuckled. “Besides, I’m not one to abandon children in need when I’ve put enough time to care for them, or when they’ve put enough time to care for me. We’ll train them up a bit and find them a new home to settle into at North Crown Peak.”

“After you clear out the wolf dragon infestation I imagine.”

“Yes, after clearing that out.”

Arnold nodded. “North Crown Peak is quite separated from the politics of Central Bramblevale and the other town regions surrounding the capital. It should be its own town, really.”

“But politics.”

“Yes, politics.”

“What are the people like up there?”

“Thorny. Brusque. If you have a short temper, they’ll make it shorter. But people of the North Crown Peak fortress and communities are honest and direct folks. They have to be since that region has seen constant threat from gnolls and other monstrosities. It’s also the last stop within human territory for any who seek the pilgrimage to more … exotic locations.”

“Carrowmore and the Coldboot CastleMountains?” Zarian mentioned.

“Ah, yes, Carrowmore. That’s quite a far journey to reach across the Walled Continent. A perilous journey, even.” Arnold sounded subdued. “Despite that, it’s still a wonder that the driders and their city filled with savage races haven’t come down to take over.”

“Maybe the driders and folks of Carrowmore see nothing of value here.”

Arnold winced at hearing that. Zarian didn’t apologize, though he did feel a little regretful at how blunt that sounded. Thankfully, Arnold took it well enough on the chin.

“I think Carrowmore is particular about keeping interests to itself and conducting trade deals that favor Carrowmore. The Eternal Garden Kingdom is many things, but it won’t endorse public trades and commerce with an evil territory. Of course, that’s on the surface.”

“Of course.”

“Politics aside, I’ve heard grand legends and fantastical things born from such a bed of evil, many of which sounded too miraculous to me. I’ve heard that they play music at odd hours and dance in fantastical enchanted wardrobes. I’ve heard their greatest leaders, the Carrowmore Barons, are all dancers and that the greatest assassins of the entire world come from that cavernous city. I’ve even heard they hold a tournament every thousand years.”

Zarian jerked up in his seat. “Did you say tournament?”

“Yes, the Carrowmore Millennium Tournament.” Arnold hummed. “Hm, if I’m not mistaken, we might draw close to that time once again. The fables of old once said the last tournament happened in the 500s of the Dark Era, and it’s currently Year 1532 of the Dark Era. If the fables are true, then the tournament can happen at any time this century. Perhaps even in this decade.”

Zarian was trying to contain the crazed laughter that wanted to come out. There was no way that he might realize one of his biggest dreams. He couldn’t believe it. But Arnold kept on talking about the tournament.

“It’s supposedly an interesting event where the greatest fighters across all of Corma would arrive in Carrowmore for the tournament. Imagine creatures who’ve never touched this continent in over a thousand years only appearing just to partake in a battle like no other, perhaps the most pivotal battles across all the lesser worlds.”

Arnold sighed wistfully. Then he spoke in a darker tone.

“Such a thing, if it is to exist, could bring about attention from the heavens. The type of attention that would … well … spell disaster.”

Ah, yes.

World Events. World Bosses. Divine Beings. Regressors. The Star System could throw down something so horrifically powerful it could wipe out cities and laugh off the countless attacks of low-level mortals.

Zarian doubted the Star System would stack so many pivotal events all at once. The tournament, by itself, sounded major enough, especially when it happened only every thousand years.

“Perhaps others like you, foreigners or … Outsiders … would appear at the tournament,” Arnold said with a smirk.

Zarian caught the old man’s gaze. Clearly, Arnold knew something was off with the Floridians.

From what Zarian and Hannah had gathered so far, Outsiders were exceptional beings favored by the Star System. That was the main reason they’d all started with abilities at Level 1, while others didn’t when they were born in Infinita.

The biggest Outsider example was Shadowfell herself, which could also explain why Corrupted Tears wouldn’t affect Zarian and other Outsiders.

Without acknowledging Arnold’s point, Zarian wondered what would happen if he met other Outsiders from the old world at Carrowmore. If the thousand-year tournament was such a big deal that it could draw fighters from around the world, from other lesser worlds, and have more Outsiders congregate, then there was only one thing Zarian had to do about that.

“Yeah, I’m signing up for that tournament.”

There were no ifs.

No buts.

Zarian wanted to fight in the tournament. He couldn’t live his new life in the Infinita Star System and not take part in the infamous tournament trope. It was practically dangling right in front of him.

And we have an invitation to Carrowmore already.

Feeling thrilled, Zarian had to settle down his own racing heart and realize there were things that needed doing before the trip to Carrowmore.

Making sure his young puppies and kittens were toughened up and settled down was close to his priorities now. Slaying the wolf dragons and their horde was up there, too.

By that point, his party should be ready to do one of two things, attack Castle Grimrock and save Foodie, or go explore the Forgotten Kingdom Dungeon, and then go to Castle Grimrock and save Foodie.

I’m starting to think taking out the Grimrock Warlock and saving Foodie is going to take priority over the dungeon. It would also be nice to have a mythical cook like Foodie on their adventures going forward, keeping them fed with delicious food while increasing stat growth.

“You seem to have many plans in mind, milord,” Arnold said as the caravan started passing through the main gate.

“Yes, many plans.” Zarian sighed. “We shall be busy. But that’s the nature of our lives. Or at least that’s the nature of the life I like to live. Eat wonderful food. Make new friends. Drink and celebrate at whimsical taverns. Train, fight, and level up to our heart’s desires. And … spread a little kindness here and there.”

Arnold chuckled. “Why didn’t you choose the good alignment?”

“Because evil suits me better.” Zarian smiled wolfishly. “After all … evil is merely a tool. It isn’t in control of me. I’m in control of it.”

Arnold nodded. “Wiser words have never been said by someone so young. I hope those wise words continue to hold true for years and years to come.”

The Silver Guardian of Serveserf smiled up at the sky. Then he turned that welcoming smile to Zarian. “I’ll wish you and your companions safe travels. I hope to hear of your many exploits. And I hope the next time you come down this direction, you’ll see the lasting impacts of a brave new kingdom who cares for the people.”

Before Zarian could say anything, Arnold held up a hand. He had more to say.

“I must also give you my apologies for not spending more time training your people, but I’ve left many tips and manuals with them. Sword training manuals for Princess Bianca and the scraps of knowledge that are known of Aura Ignition for Lady Naomi. Plus some more. I hope it all serves you and your party well, Lord Zarian Darkrun.”

Zarian was stuck on what to say. He felt a hitch in his throat and a twinge in his chest. He almost wanted to convince the old man to come along with them and join his merry band. Zarian didn’t, of course, because he had immense respect for a man who was resolute about serving others.

Zarian put aside his feelings and smiled. “That’ll do, Arnold of Ambrose. That’ll certainly do.”

Zarian reached over and clasped forearms with the Silver Guardian of Serveserf. It was a firm and warm shake of friendship and farewells.

Then they broke away and Arnold of Ambrose stopped at the gate while Zarian and the rest of the caravan rolled across the drawbridge over the wide moat. The caravan hit the dirty cobblestone road that curved between tall fields of grass, colorful flowers, and rolling hills under a big blue sky filled with blocky clouds.

Zarian leaned over the sides of his wagon and spotted Arnold as a distant and small figure at the gate. Then the Silver Guardian of Serveserf turned away and went back to conduct his business as the best example of local good.