ã€ŠFrost Iron Forgeã€‹


 A World of White

    I died and was resurrected as a level one Classless Adventurer in the Town of Beginners. I woke up in a massive tower known as the World Forge, apparently born from its flames. My body and appearance were the same as I had on earth, but I felt¡­ different somehow.

    A super pretty goddess greeted me when I woke up. She had shimmering golden eyes that seemed to stare into my soul. It was a weird experience.

    I¡¯m to rest till tomorrow, when I get to set out as a new adventurer.

    It seems this is my isekai! Just likein anime and manga! I¡¯m hyped!

    Hello World! Your Hero is here!

    <hr>

    2000 Years Later

    Part I: A Frozen Summer

    Snow fell from the sky, as it always had, every day for two thousand years. Markus looked up, watching as the flakes littered the landscape, letting them melt against his skin. He put on his scarf and lowered his googles before walking toward the Mines.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    Work in the coal Mines was long and arduous. The Masters were quite strict with their quotas, as they should be. People needed heat to survive. Day in, and day out, Markus went down into those mines with many others. Day in, and day out, many did not return.

    Mineshafts collapsed, poisonous gas choked many, others starved to death, and still others were beaten to death by the Masters. Markus hated them. He hated them when they beat him for not mining enough coal. He hated them when they sent men down into the darkness, giving no more than a sigh when the inevitable came. He wanted to kill them.

    But, it was impossible. The Masters were Blessed by the ruler of this world, the Supreme One. Although Markus had heard that their blessing was small, it was still strong enough to crush several Commons.

    Rebelling was worthless. The power difference was too great. And yet Markus wished it all the same. He wished for a better world. As his hands bleed from using a pickaxe, he wished for a savior.

    ¡°There has to be a way.¡± He whispered. ¡°There has to be a way.¡± He continued, working and working, through the long hours of the day.

    ¡°There has to be a way.¡± He wished. "There has to be a way for this world to be saved."

 Power Fantasy

    I¡¯m level five now. I got into a little trouble with goblins, but this super pretty elf girl saved me. She¡¯s angry that I forgot to get health potions. But, she¡¯s super cute, so I asked her to party with me for a while. She agreed (After some begging on my part)! She¡¯s so tsundere it hurts.

    <hr>

    The workers trudged home in the setting sun, walking in straight lines back to the settlement. The Masters, wearing their thick furs, wandered up and down the lines, looking for any who fell out. They were beaten with metal staves, encouraged to keep walking. Some didn¡¯t. They were left to die there, frozen and alone.

    ¡°There ya go boy.¡± Master Krell grinned, exposing yellow teeth. He handed Markus a lump of coal, payment for his days¡¯ work.

    ¡°Thank you Master Krell.¡± He said, bitterness hidden in his voice.

    All that work, these huge quotas, and they only give enough for an hour or two of burning. Markus thought, anger welling up in him.

    The workers lined up, holding out reaching hands to the Masters, who gave them their shares. The rest of the load would be carted away on sleds, to feed the Empire¡¯s growing hunger for coal. It seemed to get worse and worse every year. The snow fell, but it never melted. It was an endless winter.

    Markus stumbled home, a meager tin canister that functioned as shelter. There, bundled in blankets, Fel shivered, turning the pages of a worn book. She was weak and fragile looking, with glassy blue eyes and boyish short silver hair.

    ¡°Fel.¡± Markus said as he lowered his scarf.

    ¡°You¡¯re back.¡± She managed a weak smile.

    ¡°Learn anything new?¡± He said, crawling into the narrow home, covering the entrance with the thin leather curtain that acted as a door.

    ¡°Not really. All these books always tell the same thing.¡± She sighed.

    ¡°What¡¯s that one you¡¯re reading about?¡±

    ¡°The Supreme One¡¯s ascension.¡± Fel said. ¡°He led a great and powerful army against the Blessed Ones, who were tyrants that terrorized the world. After he had destroyed them, he turned on the gods who blessed them, and sealed them away. It brought about a new era of peace. Or so the book says.¡±If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    ¡°Peace huh?¡± This wasn¡¯t peace. How the hell is this peace? While the Nobles fattened themselves up in the capital, we Commons are left out here to die. ¡°Anything else?¡±

    ¡°Well.¡± Fel said, pausing to think. ¡°I would like to learn more about the Order of Fallen Hands. Or Ice Wraiths. Or even what exactly a Blessed One was. But, there aren¡¯t any books on that. At least none from the ones I read.¡± She sighed.

    ¡°I see.¡± Markus sighed. ¡°You want another book?¡±

    ¡°If you could get one me, then yes.¡± She smiled. Her smile was the only thing keeping Matkus going. If she wasn¡¯t here, he would¡¯ve left himself to die in the snow years ago. Like so many others.

    ¡°Any books on rebellions?¡± Markus asked.

    ¡°Not really. There are a couple mentions in this one, but they were all crushed. The closest one to victory seemed to have been over a thousand years ago. A bunch of rebels faced the Supreme One, and he killed them all in one strike.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡± He said. He noticed that she was shivering. She had gone all day without heat.

    ¡°How much do we have now?¡± He asked.

    Fel crawled over to the corner, opening a small panel in the floor. Stockpiled inside were several chunks of coal.

    ¡°Thirty-eight pieces now.¡± She said.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to need at least fifty to buy ourselves some semblance of a life.¡± Markus sighed.

    ¡°Almost there.¡± Fel said, crawling over to grab the newest piece from his hand. ¡°thirty-nine now.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s going be dangerous. I already know what carriage to steal. But even then, we¡¯re testing our luck. If we¡¯re caught, the Masters will¡­¡±

    ¡°Send us to the Experience mines, right?¡± Fel said.

    ¡°No one comes out of there. They¡¯ll make you work twice as hard, to set an example for me.¡±

    They were both silent. The sun outside set, giving way to cold winter night. The wind howled, and the snows fell, The Commons near frozen in their metal huts, while the Masters drank away in their warm cottage. A few Commons were allowed to serve drinks. It was a reward for working hard. They were beaten there too, but at least it was warm.

    Markus and Fel huddled together, their single small stove cold and empty.

    ¡°Do you want to burn some coal?¡± Markus asked as they shivered.

    ¡°No.¡± She shook her head. ¡°It¡¯ll be a waste. We¡¯re almost there.¡± She said. ¡°Do you think, do you think I could get more books in the Eastern Hearth? History books especially?¡±

    ¡°I heard that they have a royal library there.¡± Markus said, teeth clanging together. ¡°Don¡¯t know if they¡¯ll let you in though.¡±

    ¡°We can make more coal there. There¡¯s a bunch of jobs we can do.¡± Fel said. ¡°I can help with transcripts and writing there maybe. You can probably do some manual labor.¡±

    ¡°Always planning huh?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s what I do all day.¡± She smiled. ¡°While your gone.¡±

    The night grew colder and colder. A few burnt their coal, basking in a few hours of warmth. Others, like Markus and Fel, did not, opting to stockpile it for later. A few didn¡¯t wake up in the morning, frost stealing them in the night. And It was a cold night.

 The Rebellion

    Class. I didn¡¯t know what class to pick. Should I be a Sorceror, or a Swordsman? Maybe a Ranger, or a Rogue? There are way too many options!. I like using a sword and shield, but magic is fun too. I wish I could pick them all¡­

    The elf girl¡¯s name was Mariah. She has green eyes and long silver hair. She¡¯s about level twelve, so a couple levels higher than me. Her class was Holy Fencer. She¡¯s also a great cook! She gave me sandwiches and cookies. Maybe I should ask her for advice on what to spec into?

    <hr>

    The humble little bookshop in the Capital was empty, saved for the six individuals huddled around the table, basked by the warmth of the heat pipes, which ran the length of the room, steam fuming from them.

    ¡°It¡¯s almost time.¡± Merrill smiled.

    ¡°This will work.¡± Thrace said. He was a large man, tall, dark and muscular, scars running the lengths of his exposed arms and face.

    ¡°This is insane. We should at least gather more men. Spend more time planning this¡­¡± Harris, a gentlemanly looking man, said.

    ¡°The amount of men doesn¡¯t matter. No matter how many we can gather, none of us are a match for a single Hand.¡± Severus waved with a sigh. He had the look of a scholar. His overcoat clung to his lanky body, his dark combed back hair and thick glasses adding to his image.

    ¡°What about the Supreme One himself?¡± Anton said, quivering. Anton was but a boy. He had an athletic build but had a nervous disposition. He fidgeted his fingers as he waited for an answer to his question.

    ¡°He¡¯s probably going to kill us all with his pinky!¡± Milli smiled. ¡°More tea Anton?¡± She asked, offering him the kettle. He gestured no.

    ¡°We don¡¯t even know if these rumors are true.¡± Harris argued.

    ¡°I trust our source. He sacrificed a lot to get us this information.¡± Merrill said.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you think it¡¯s a bit preposterous?¡± Severus asked. ¡°A so-called goddess, here? Under the Hearth?¡±

    ¡°What does that mean anyways?¡± Anton asked, shrinking into his chair.

    ¡°It means we¡¯ll have the power to Awaken other Commons.¡± Merill affirmed. ¡°Guys, if we do this, we could fight the Hands, even the Great Lords. Maybe even the Supreme One himself.¡±

    ¡°I think this is a joke. There¡¯s no evidence that¡¯s Blessings come from anywhere else. All the Blessings are the gifts of the Supreme One himself. He alone holds this power. I don¡¯t care what you read in any of your banned books.¡± Harris snapped.

    ¡°Watch it Harris.¡± Thrace warned.

    ¡°We have to take this chance.¡± Merrill said. ¡°It¡¯s our only chance. No rebellion stands a chance against the Supreme One. He¡¯s powerful enough to take out ten thousand men. At least that¡¯s what they say. But if this book is true¡­¡± She placed it on the table.

    ¡°Nonsense! This is insanity!¡± Harris flared.

    ¡°I am in stern agreement.¡± Severus added.

    ¡°We¡¯re all going to die!¡± Milli laughed.

    ¡°Guys. Look. We just need to get this goddess out. That¡¯s it.¡± Merrill assured. ¡°We aren¡¯t fighting. I know that. We just need to do that.¡±

    ¡°And if the Hands get wind that we¡¯re Blessed, what do you think is going to happen? I really wonder¡­¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ll plow through the Capital, killing number after number of Commons till they find us?¡± Milli answered, titling her head, her blonde hair hanging to her side.

    ¡°We could also run into the Supreme One himself. I heard he¡¯s been bored recently and takes particular enjoyment in slaughtering Blessed.¡± Harris said.

    ¡°Harris.¡± Merrill said, gritting her teeth. ¡°I want you to remember that you came to me. You told me you wanted to make a difference for the people.¡±

    ¡°And I do. But not like this. I wanted to do it with some semblance of sanity. I wanted to reform the Empire, not sacrifice myself meaninglessly.¡±This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    ¡°Reform.¡± Thrace laughed. ¡°You can¡¯t reform anything with those monsters. The Supreme One, all seven Great Lords, Nobles, the Hands. They all have to die.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry Thrace. About your family. I really am. But I¡¯m not a fighter.¡± Harris shook his head. ¡°I want out.¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t have you out. You¡¯re our Ranger. We need your Tracking Skill. It¡¯s the most important part.¡± Merrill said. ¡°We need you.¡± She sounded almost desperate.

    All the while, the group did not notice Anton shifting in his seat, shifting further and further into himself. What had he gotten into?

    ¡°You have to find someone else.¡± Harris said.

    ¡°There are no other Rangers left in the city. I promise you. I looked.¡± Merrill said.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to die.¡± Harris said, fear in his eyes.

    ¡°Yet you seek to dissent against the Empire. How interesting.¡± Severus rolled his eyes, sipping a fresh cup of tea.

    ¡°Look. You can leave after this job. But I need you now.¡± Merrill said. ¡°We need you now.¡±

    ¡°Oh good. I can leave. Assuming we can infiltrate the Hearth of all places and get out alive. Good. excellent.¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re going to leave, then leave you dirty Noble!¡± Thrace said, erupting from his seat, arms reaching across the table, dragging Harris onto it.

    ¡°Thrace! That¡¯s enough!¡± Merrill ordered.

    Thrace sighed, letting Harris go.

    ¡°You can leave.¡± Merrill said, disappointment in her eyes.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry Merrill. I¡¯ll still feed you information, assuming you all live.¡± He said, fixing his shirt.

    He got up and left, leaving the five of them there at the table.

    ¡°We should deal with him.¡± Severus said.

    ¡°Deal with him?¡± Merrill asked.

    ¡°A man like that can¡¯t be trusted. Even if he wasn¡¯t on his way to the authorities, a man like that would crack under torture. Better we deal with him now.¡±

    ¡°Agreed.¡± Thrace grunted.

    ¡°We don¡¯t kill people like that. Being a part of this a choice, you¡¯re all free to leave anytime you want.¡± Merrill affirmed.

    ¡°But Merrill¡­¡± Severus said, worry in his eyes.

    ¡°I trust the boss.¡± Thrace said, grinding his teeth. ¡°Whatever she says goes.¡±

    ¡°Fine. Fine. Just trying to be safe.¡± Severus sighed.

    ¡°Merrill, can we go now?¡± Milli sighed, clearly bored.

    ¡°Not just yet. It¡¯s tomorrow night.¡± Merrill said. ¡°Now that everyone here is on board¡­¡± Anton shifted a bit. ¡°I¡¯ll explain the plan.¡± She got up, walking over to a large chalkboard. ¡°Now, what are the issues that prevent us from infiltrating the Great Hearth?¡±

    ¡°Oh, oh!¡± Milli raised her hand.

    ¡°Yes Milli.¡±

    ¡°The guards.¡±

    Guards. Merrill wrote down in chalk. ¡°What else?¡±

    ¡°The Fallen Hands.¡± Severus added, scribbling down his own notes.

    Hands. She wrote.

    ¡°Uhm¡­¡± Anton raised a nervous hand. ¡°The Supreme One himself.¡±

    Supreme One. She made sure to underline it.

    ¡°The gates.¡± Thrace added.

    Gates.

    ¡°Let¡¯s not forget the Great Lords.¡± Merrill said, writing it down. ¡°Now, does anyone know how we get past these things?¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t! Can I go now?¡± Milli jumped.

    ¡°Nope.¡± Merrill said, forming an x with her arms. ¡°That¡¯s wrong. Any other ideas?¡±

    ¡°Well, you¡¯re a Rogue, so sneaking past the guards isn¡¯t really a problem for you.¡± Severus said.

    ¡°Yup!¡± She smiled, putting her name next to the guards.

    ¡°Oh!¡± Milli raised her hand. ¡°Thrace is super strong. He¡¯s a Bersok. He can tear through the gates and beat up the guards!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s Berserker.¡± Thrace sighed. ¡°But yes, little one. The gates are like paper to me.¡±

    ¡°And the Hands?¡± Merrill asked.

    ¡°We can¡¯t beat them.¡± Anton said.

    ¡°You¡¯re right.¡± Merrill agreed. ¡°It was actually Harris¡¯s job to track them and distract them. But we don¡¯t have him, so we¡¯re going to have to hope we¡¯re lucky.¡±

    The room went silent for a bit. A single Hand could lay waste to an army. And they were so much weaker than a Great Lord. And even then, the Supreme One was so much beyond that.

    ¡°And what about the Lords and the Supreme One?¡± Merrill asked.

    No one answered this one.

    Merrill smiled, writing informant and drawing two lines pointed at each. ¡°This is where our info comes in. None of them will be there.¡± She said, slapping the board. ¡°The Supreme One is going south to visit the Oasis. He does that every year before the Autumn season. And the Lords will be busy tomorrow. It¡¯s almost time for the Autumn Season Balls, so they¡¯ll be preparing for that and won¡¯t have time to be at the Hearth.¡±

    ¡°So that means¡­¡± Severus eyes widened.

    ¡°We can sneak in, get the goddess and sneak out, without having to worry about the biggest obstacles.¡± Merrill winked. ¡°Once we snag her, we can use her to make more and more Blessed ones. Then we can start thinking about an army.¡±

    ¡°Harris was right.¡± Severus smiled. ¡°You are a fool. But this is crazy enough to work.¡±

    ¡°Umm...¡± Anton raised his hand. ¡°What¡¯s my job?¡±

    ¡°Good question. You¡¯ll be helping Thrace out. As a Monk, you¡¯ll be front lines with Thrace in case we need to fight off any guards.¡±

    ¡°And if a Hand appears?¡± He asked.

    ¡°Then run. This is a high risk, high reward operation gentlemen. This is for the sake of the rebellion.¡±

    ¡°Milli¡¯s job is to make sure people don¡¯t die. And, to make the bad guys slower.¡± Milli smiled.

    ¡°Mil is our support. Since she¡¯s a Priestess, she¡¯ll oversee healing and debuffing.¡± Merrill said. ¡°Any other questions?¡±

    ¡°What will we do after we get her out?¡± Severus asked. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me we¡¯re bringing her back here. The Hands will tear the city apart looking for her.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯ll only be temporary.¡± Merrill said. ¡°We¡¯re getting her out of the city the day after. We¡¯ll take her to the Eastern Hearth. We have contacts there, plus the Hand¡¯s power in that city is weak.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯re sure she¡¯ll be there?¡± Severus asked.

    ¡°As sure as the snow falls.¡± She smiled.

    They all sat there, drinking teas and going over the plan, late into the night. Milli had fallen asleep an hour after the meeting, draping herself in thick blankets. Severus was busy looking over the logistics of the plan. Thrace sat in the corner, watching the door with serious eyes. Anton pretended to meditate, trying to hide his fear. And the night went on like this, as the wind howled, and the snow fell.

 A Minor Setback

    The people call us Blessed Ones, people from another world that had the power to level up and use Skills. Apparently even the descendants of us Blessed Ones could do so. We are summoned to destroy him, this Demon King. Apparently, he¡¯s a Blessed One too. I¡¯ve heard whispers that he¡¯s level 100. I¡¯m only level 15 now, so I can¡¯t imagine that power gap. But I¡¯m growing stronger each day. I can feel it. So much stronger¡­

    <hr>

    The Commons were awoken early in the morning, when the snow of the night stopped falling. They were given shovels to clear out the camp. It was long hard work, and of course it was still cold. They worked for hours, starting with the Master¡¯s cabin, then the equipment, then finally the slave quarters.

    Markus sighed, shoveling away a large chunk of snow. Last night¡¯s snowfall had been heavy, and it was still summer. When the Deep Winter comes, the sun will disappear for days at a time. Snow will fall continuously, to the point it would be impossible to mine more coal. That was why the Master¡¯s were especially rough. They didn¡¯t want to die.

    After shoveling, the slaves were allowed a meager breakfast. Markus made sure that Fel got the largest piece of the single loaf they shared. Fel was lucky. She was smart, so the Masters used her for ledgers and such, so she only stayed out in the cold at night. It also meant that her beatings were lighter. They need her careful hands to write after all.

    Soon, the time came to head to the mines. Markus waved Fel goodbye, hoisting his pickaxe over his shoulder. They walked in long straight lines, the five miles it took to reach the mine. There, they were each given a small glow stone light. Getting caught stealing one of these was grounds to be sent to the Experience Mines. So, slaves were careful not to lose them.

    They stepped into the shaft, loaded onto the wooden elevator till there was no more room, and lowered into the dark.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    Markus hated the dark, but he had grown used to it. He hated mining, but it was his comfort. It took away from his thoughts. He could not think when he was hammering.

    They remained in the mines till the sun began to set. When it was time, the masters asked for count from the Task Slave. The Task Slave was the one in charge of keeping counts of loads and any causalities or dangers. It was a good job, particularly since you didn¡¯t have to endanger yourself, but it was also dangerous. An upset master will often take their anger out on the Task Slave.

    And so, Markus hammered. And mined. He loaded his pile of coal and hammered again. This was his life. Day in, and day out. When the time came, the survivors were carted up, only after there coal loads had gone.

    They came out, only an orange glimmer of the sun remaining. Then they walked, walked in their straight lines back to camp while the masters yelled and screamed. And so they received their coal shares, and the cycle continues.

    ¡°Forty Pieces.¡± Fel said.

    ¡°Forty-one.¡±

    ¡°Forty-Two.¡±

    ¡°Forty-Three.¡±

    ¡°Forty-Four.¡±

    ¡°Forty-Five.¡±

    Each day the stock pile grew.

    It was one day, when he war returning home, now on the forty nineth coal, that Fel was waiting for him. Her face was filled with dread, frozen tears streaming down her face.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Markus fell to his knees, letting his pickaxe fall into the snow.

    ¡°Our coal¡­¡± She said, holding back another tear. ¡°It¡¯s gone.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Master Krell found out. He was digging through our home. He took it all and sent it to the Capital.¡± She said. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I messed up. I shouldn¡¯t have told him about my book¡­¡± She shook.

    Markus flared with fury. He wanted to kill Krell. But there were more important things to worry about. ¡°Don¡¯t worry.¡± He comforted the girl. ¡°It¡¯s okay.¡±

    ¡°But we were so close. So close for you to never have to work in the mines again. So close.¡± She cried.

    Markus reached into his pocket, pulling out his single share of coal. ¡°How about we burn this tonight?¡±

    ¡°But it¡¯s our last piece¡­¡± She said.

    ¡°It¡¯s all right. We deserve to sleep warm tonight.¡± He said.

    ¡°But our plan¡­¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. The plan is still going on. I have an idea.¡±

    ¡°An idea?¡± She said, tilting her head.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. Let¡¯s go get warm.¡± He said.

    Markus eyed the Masters¡¯ Cottage off in the distance, a bellow of smoke erupting from its chimney. Steal from us huh? Let¡¯s see how you like it.

 Coal for Coal

    I learned that Mariah was not from another world, but her grandfather was, so she can level up and take a Class. We partied up with a guy named Connor. He¡¯s a super annoying tough guy who loves flirting with Mariah. It pisses me off, but Mariah says we need a Blacksmith, and he¡¯s the only one that¡¯s our level. Tomorrow we¡¯re planning to raid a dungeon. Apparently, there¡¯s a super strong boss inside that specializes in physical attacks. Connor has a skill know as Iron Forged which grants us with armor, so it should be a big help.

    <hr>

    Fel was asleep, hugging Markus tightly. He released her grip, replacing himself with his own bundled up blanket. He looked at their tiny stove, the simmering embers still a bit warm. Only three hours. And the Masters can have as much as they want.

    The night was a cold night for the summer. Markus shivered through his tattered cloak as he stepped out into it. It was still very dark, with dawn hours away.

    Looking around, Markus noticed that none of the other Common tin huts had any smoke bellowing from them.

    The Masters must have taken everyone¡¯s coal. Markus thought to himself, his anger seething inside him.

    The Cottage lay atop of hill, a shining beacon, well lit, with the warmth of smoke generously pouring from its chimney. A mockery to those who froze in the cheap tin homes below.

    Markus crawled up to it, careful to cover his approach, avoiding the sight of windows lest the Masters kept watch. He doubted it. The Masters were probably way too drunk and busy beating and raping to matter. But Markus was careful anyway.

    He reached the cottage after a couple minutes, peering through the glass window. It appeared to be a common area, well furnished with stone tables and stools. The glass was fogged from the warmth within, but Markus could make out the figures of the Masters drunkenly sitting at the tables. It seemed as if most of them were there.

    Sneaking around to the backside, Markus spotted a glimmer of light. He peeked around the corner, spotting a single figure seated in front of a small coal stove.

    It was Master Roy, thick furs draped over his shoulders, cursing and drinking alone. Markus saw that he had his Metal staff at his feet, the weapon often used by the Masters.

    ¡°Damned watch duty¡­¡± Master Roy said to himself, wrapping his furs closer to his body. ¡°As if the Commons would do anything¡­¡±

    Markus took a step back, his boot crunching slightly in the snow.

    ¡°Who¡¯s there?¡± Master Roy rose, staff in his hand. ¡°Frost Wraith? Some Common?¡±

    Markus remained where he was, trying to remain silent. After a minute or so, he peeked around the corner. Master Roy was seated again, warming himself by the stove, staff clenched tightly in his hand.

    Have to find another way in. Markus thought to himself.

    He snuck around the cottage, risking walking in front of the door. He snuck past it, no guards to speak of. Rounding around to the otherside of the building, he noticed an open window, warm steam pouring from it.

    He stopped. A figure laid in the snow drift. It was a woman, her face buried deep in the snow, bruises running the lengths of her naked body. Leftovers of the Masters brutality.

    This could be Fel someday.

    Markus walked past the body, climbing up and over into through the window. The warmth was the first thing that hit him. It was so warm, that he began to sweat. Like the deep in the mines, but much more pleasant.

    The Pipes. They''re the primary means that are used for central heating. Many of the larger buildings, including the Cottage have a large coal stove in their basements allowing for heat to be distributed throughout the building. In the Hearths, most of the districts are warmed from the Hearths themselves, which are massive coal stoves. He heard Fel¡¯s voice in his head with perfectly clarity once. She had told him about this a long time ago, when she first started reading.

    He also noticed just how much things the Masters kept within the building. It was all metal,but the inside wall was lined with leather and fur. To help with insulation. Fel¡¯s voice told him. The beds were made with animal skin stuffed with feathers and springs, the blankets were thick and excessive. Lanterns hung near the ceiling, illuminating the entire room, much different from the dark hovels Markus was used to.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Markus pushed aside the leather strip that functioned as a door, stepping out into the warm hallway. Various strips of leather lined the doorways, all leading down it to the common area.

    A figure emerged from the door as he stepped in front of it, a Master stumbling out into the hallway. Markus panicked, scrambling backwards into a nearby room. After a few seconds he peeked out from it. The Master was still there, hunched over. It was Master Krell, the man that had taken Markus¡¯s and Fel¡¯s coal.

    After a moment, the Master lifted his head and left towards the common area. Markus hesitantly followed after him, stopping as he heard faint whimpers from the room he had emerged from.

    He stepped inside, still crouched. There in the corner, a girl cried. She had bruised running up and down her arms and legs, her fingers covering her swollen face. As Markus took as step closer, the girl cowered.

    ¡°Please, Master. Please, no more.¡± She cried.

    ¡°I¡¯m not a Master.¡± Markus whispered.

    The girl slowly pulled her fingers away.

    ¡°Markus? You¡¯re Fel¡¯s brother. What are you doing here?¡±

    ¡°Taking back what¡¯s mine.¡± He said, trying not to look at her ruined face.

    Her name was Melony. Markus knew she was a friend of Fel¡¯s. Looking at the what the Masters had done was too much of a reminder what fate awaited Fel if she ever lost her usefulness.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to steal from them?¡± Melony asked.

    Markus nodded.

    ¡°Do you know where the boiler is?¡±

    ¡°The coal stove you mean? There¡¯s a small one in the kitchen.¡± She said.

    ¡°No. The boiler. The one that heats the pipes.¡±

    Melony though for a moment.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how the pipes work¡­. But around to corner that way there¡¯s a big metal door. I¡¯ve only ever seen Master Krell go back there. He always carries this key with him.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡± He said, sneaking back towards the door.

    ¡°Markus¡­¡± Melony said as he was about to leave. ¡°Take everything from them.¡±

    ¡°I will.¡±

    Sure enough, there was a door there. Compared to the leather strips that the rooms had, this door was a true, heavy iron door. And it was barred shut, a large padlock holding it closed.

    I need the key. And Master Krell has it.

    The Masters lazed about the common area, either slumped over drunk or half heartedly drowning themselves with drink. One thing was for sure, they were too drunk to recognize Markus. He noticed that the servants, having filled their quotas of beatings and serving drinks, were huddled around the large stove, drawing in its warmth.

    Markus pulled off his cloak, leaving it in a pile on the floor, before walking into the room, imitating a servant. The Masters regarded him with disintest, more interested instead with finishing their drinks.

    Master Krell laid slumped over in a corner, metal key hanging from his belt. He had fallen asleep mid drink.

    Markus made his way over to him, doing his best to appear cowardly and scared. A strong hand grabbed his arm, tugging him forcefully.

    ¡°Who¡­ are you? Why¡­are..¡± Master Thomas slurred, his eyes struggling to focus.

    ¡°I probably let him in.¡± Master Ned sang, swirling his mug of ale. ¡°You now my fondness for the weak little things.¡± He chuckled, chugging down his drink.

    ¡°That¡¯s why¡­ you gotta beat the weakness out of them.¡± Master Thomas laughed, punching Markus hard in the stomach.

    He fell over, the pain real, but his apologetic pleas a fabrication.

    ¡°So weak.¡± Master Thomas smiled, looming over the boy. ¡°Couldn¡¯t do anything even if they were brave. It¡¯s why they¡¯re beneath us.¡± He laughed, turning away from Markus, not noticing the defiant stare burrowing into the back of his neck.

    Markus crawled away, making towards Krell. Snatching the key was easy. It came off his belt with a simple pull. Getting away was even easier. Markus just walked out.

    They don¡¯t care about us. They¡¯re so sure we won¡¯t fight back they let their guards down like this.

    The padlock fell from the door, the fall softened by the carpet that lined the floor. With effort, the iron door opened, a surge of hot air hitting Markus.

    So hot. Way too hot.

    A metal staircase led down into the basement. The stairs were moist with water, steam swimming in the air. Markus carefully stepped down, using the guard rail to keep from slipping on the slick steps. He felt the furnace before seeing it. A large, looming orange glow, with piles upon piles of coal surrounding it. Three workers slaved away, watching the flames, making sure to dump a new pile to keep the flames surging.

    They did not regard Markus, for they were focused on the fires. Still, he was careful. He reached one of the piles, taking the coal into his hands. Here it was. The very thing that kept them alive in this world of ice. And there was so much of it.

    He took handfuls of it, stuffing it down his shirt, till he could fill no more. He then took his cloak, laying it along the ground, he began to pile up coal. He tied the corners, forming a makeshift bag he threw over his shoulder.

    Returning the key was easy. After dumping off the coal at his home, he simply returned the same way, placing the key back onto Krell¡¯s sleeping form. He also found some food and water, sneaking it to Melony who was now laying in Krell¡¯s bed. She thanked him profusely.

    Markus stepped back out into the cold night, a sense of triumph washing over him. He had counted his load. About thirty-five pieces. Still not what he once had, but it was thirty-five days worth of work in a single night. He wished he could of stolen more, but the cloak bag was filled, and the servants had grown suspicious, almost spotting him as he tried to make his way back down.

    No matter. He had won. He stole right under the Masters noses. And he was one step closer to escaping this frozen hell, one step closer to protecting Fel.

 The Raid

    That boss was a lot tougher than I thought. It really tore through us. Luckily Mariah was a Holy Fencer, so she was able to heal the party. Connor¡¯s Iron Forged was an amazing skill. I¡¯m thinking about becoming a Blacksmith myself. It¡¯s an impressive class that deals with heat and metal. But I need to be thinking on how to balance the party. I might take the Champion class for its buffs, but its not particularly good at DPS¡­. I wish I could multiclass! This was a lot easier in my head.

    <hr>

    Merrill leapt from rooftop to rooftop, her Class''s agility letting her make the jumps with ease. The tightly packed buildings of the Capital Hearth only made it easier for her to navigate, allowing her to leap across the city in short amounts of time. The only exception were the Noble homes located around the towering Hearth. The Nobles liked their space, so each house was spaced much further apart.

    Down on the streets below, four cloaked figures followed the Rogue. The streets were quiet and empty, for evening had already fallen, along with a light snowfall. Merrill looked down at her crew, making sure they were keeping up, before continuing onwards, stopping in a building overlooking the entrance of the Hearth.

    It was lightly guarded, with a small patrol of Common soldiers circling its permimeter. Even the gates had only two guards, both as which were also Commons. Blessings were a Noble thing, and it was beneath a Noble to do a simple soldiers work. So Common were left with guard duty. After all, a well trained, well fed Common could hold off his fellow man with relative ease. What they could not fight, however, were Blessed. Such as Merrill.

    Meeting eyes with Severus below, who stood in an alley peeking out at the passing guard control, she winked. Severus nodded turning to face his companions.

    ¡°We¡¯re ready.¡± He whispered.

    Merrill stood on the edge of the roof, taking in the sights, breathing in the biting cold air. She pulled her cloak up, covering her mouth, and searched the great metal gates that surrounded the Hearth. She spotted her target. About thirty feet away, right above the two guards in front of the entrance, a jutting metal beam, with just enough space for someone to balance atop.

    Merrill reached within herself, feeling for the Skills that where like muscles, extensions to her own body.

    Skill¡­She heard the voice in her head, a woman¡¯s voice, chant. Flashstep. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    In an instant the world seemed to zoom forward, the freezing air pelting her body as she flew. And she stood atop the beam, perfectly balanced, looking down at the guards below.

    ¡°Milli wishes she could do that.¡± Milli giggled, rattling the hanging ornaments at the end of her metal staff.

    ¡°Well, unfortunately, that¡¯s a Rogue¡¯s skill. You just weren¡¯t born a Rogue.¡± Severus said, a soft smile on his face.

    ¡°Not fair.¡± Milli pouted.

    ¡°I¡¯m up.¡± Thrace said, stepping out into the open.

    His large menacing form was evident under the thick cloak he wore, a gigantic man walking towards the two Common guards.

    ¡°Halt! It¡¯s past curfew!¡± A guard called out, readying his lance.

    Thrace kept threading forward, his cloak bellowing in the breeze.

    ¡°You¡¯re under arrest!¡± The first man stepped forward, weapon ready.

    Merrill leapt down from the beam twin daggers ready.

    Skill: Lethal Strike. In a flash, she cut the man down, driving two daggers into his arteries with perfect precesion.

    ¡°Wha..¡±

    Thrace reached into himself. Skill: Charging Bull. With great speed, he shot forward, slamming into the man with a loud thud, catching him with his arm. Thrace slammed him into gate, sending out a loud clang as snow fell from it. The man fell into the snow, his spine broken.

    ¡°Traitor.¡± Thrace spat.

    ¡°Take care of this would you?¡¯ Merrill said with a wink, tapping the gate¡¯s entrance, before leaping up and over it with a flip, disappearing into the Hearth itself.

    ¡°Hey! Stop!¡± A patrol had appeared, pointing their weapons towards Thrace, who had his hands around the gate.

    Skill: Magic Strike. Severus casted, four balls of light flying from his finger tips. They hit four guards, the magic orbs bursting with fiery green flames as they exploded against their armor. The men fell and did not get up.

    The survivors turned and charged him, spear ready to run them through.

    Skill: Slow

    Milli gleefully waved her staff. The guards moved in slow motion, their muscles heavy and minds muddled.

    Anton shot forward, striking each with hard blows of his fists and legs. They fell over, his blows breaking bones and cracking ribs, but he did not kill the men.

    ¡°Finish them off!¡± Thrace howled, but Anton ignored him.

    Thrace shook his head, turning back towards the gate.

    Skill: Giant¡¯s Strength

    Thrace felt the power, like fire burning within him, pour into his muscles. He gripping the massive gates, the metal twinging from his strength, and began to push.

    ¡°More guards!¡± Milli pointed, as several patrols converged on their location.

    ¡°Great.¡± Severus sighed, readying another magical barrage.

    The gates bent like paper where he grabbed them, crumbling under the force of his hands. He pushed against them, the gates folding into themselves as they burst open, leaving an opening for Merrill¡¯s escape.

    Thrace smiled, satisfied of his feat. He turned around, readying his Giant¡¯s Strength, and charged into the crowd.

 The Heart of the Empire

    It appears that another religion, separate from the gods that reincarnated me exists in this world. They are called World Forger Holymen, and their gods hate ours. They also have their own magic system, apparently separate from the video game like mechanics I¡¯m used to. It was the original magic of this world. A sort of true, primal magic in a way.

    <hr>

    Despite standing out in the cold, sweat dripped down Thaim¡¯s face as he waited, lantern in hand. He was a plump little man, balding, with a scaggy short red beard on his face. The  man pulled his watch from his pocket. Despite the commotion, she was late. Now Thaim wasn¡¯t a rebel. But he was a traitor. The quiet man, despite his mild manner and obedient attitude, had always been against the Supreme One, from the very first day he had come to his service. And yet, he was bad at acting out. He could barely fight, and he visibly shook whenever a Fallen Hand walked past him, terrified at their perpetual, grizzly grin devoid of lips.

    ¡°Thaim.¡± A woman¡¯s voice whispered from behind him. He jumped slightly.

    ¡°My lady, why do you insist on testing my heart¡¯s strength?¡± He sighed, turning to face the mischievous Rogue woman.

    She just smiled.

    ¡°You¡¯re late.¡± Thaim said, tucking his watch back into his pocket.

    ¡°I was scouting the area. Can¡¯t be too careful when you¡¯re in the Supreme One¡¯s palace.¡±

    ¡°I assure you.¡± Thaim paused, frowning at the sound of the carnage outside. ¡°It is more or less safer then it usually is.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be the judge of that.¡± She said. ¡°Go on, lead the way.¡±

    Thaim shook his head. This woman was way too insistent. And her perpetual smile, though some found it charming, seemed ingenuine to the little scholar holy man. Thaim let out a silent prayer to his forgotten old gods, before extinguishing his lantern, leading Merrill into the heart of the Empire.

    The Capital Hearth had only one entrance. And it was through the throne room. Thaim pushed the wooden doors open, the sound of creaking wood causing him to sweat profusely. With just a crack wide enough for his wide frame to fit, he stepped inside, Merrill right behind him.

    ¡°So this is wood¡­¡± Merrill whispered, running her fingers along the grain.

    ¡°Now is not the time my lady.¡± Thaim gestured.

    It was a long stone hall way that stretched for nearly a hundred feet, leading to even grander wooden doors at the end. Lights aligned the sides of the walls, illuminated by some mysterious power. Along the way, Merrill noted the tapestries and window panes, of which all depicted a shining figure dressed in a white cloak. The Supreme One.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    First, there he was, born of the Flames of the World. He struck down the tyrants, who destroyed the common people. They fell to him, their blood crimson glass that spilled along the panes. Then, there was the Issium. They were a depicted as dark masses, with long, twirling tentacles that choked the land, taking its very life. And then, they were defeated, the Supreme One striking them down with a glowing sword that shone with brilliance.

    And then, there was white. The Eternal Frost. The story ended, the figure of brilliance seated atop a sprawling throne.

    ¡°Hey Thaim.¡± Merrill whispered. ¡°Is it true? Had there really been a time when there was no snow?¡±

    ¡°According to the Supreme One, yes. There was time when plants grew throughout the land, much like they do in the Oasis.¡±

    Merrill nodded, her eyes drifting back to the figure atop the throne. And there it was. The next room over, the Eternal Throne sat empty. It resembled a sort of basket, weaved together by iron vines that twisted together, forming a seat, the excess material stretching far above in a twisting sort of spiral. The throne room itself resembled a dome, tiled with a wide array of colors, the roof ornated by the same glass panes story that had been told outside. And up above it all, the glass image of woman, hair as white as her dress. Her eyes were closed as if she were asleep, a soft smile on her face, as if she were having a pleasant dream.

    Merrill tempted stepping closer to the Throne.  She noticed something. Twisted amongst these iron vines were unusual shapes. Like buds.

    ¡°Roses my lady.¡± Thaim said, pulling on her sleeve. ¡°They were plants that grew pre-Frost.¡±

    Merrill pulled her arm away, staring in wonder. And then, before Thaim could stop her, she sat on the Throne, wearing a satisfied smile as she did so.

    ¡°My lady!¡± He was about to tear her off, but she dodged, getting up with deft agility.

    ¡°Not very comfortable.¡± She smiled. ¡°No wonder he always looks so grumpy.¡±

    Thaim let out an exhausted sigh, wiping the sweat from his brow. He was a scholar. He wasn¡¯t meant for this traitor business. But this was the task his master, the previous Archivist, had given him.

    ¡°Behind the throne.¡± Thaim gestured.

    Sure enough, a little behind the raised throne platform were two spiraling stone staircases that descended into the depths of the Hearth.

    ¡°To the left one my lady.¡± Thaim said, walking towards it.

    ¡°Are these the only entrances? It goes right through the throne room. No back doors or anything?¡± She asked as they descended the dark spiral, illuminated only by Thaim¡¯s lantern.

    ¡°The Supreme One wishes to see who comes and goes through the Hearth. He wishes all who enter to bow in fealty before the throne.¡±

    A reminder of who¡¯s in power. Merrill thought.

    The stair descended deeper and deeper, no end in sight. After a minute or so, however, they opened, down into a concrete corridor resembling the one above. It was well decorated, a red carpet sprawled down on it as it faded into the distance. Along its walls were several wooden doors, much smaller than the grand ones above. It was way more personal than what Merrill had expected. Compared to the grandiose and posturing of the room above, this part of the Hearth was tame. Comfortable even. It was the Supreme One¡¯s home.

    ¡°We must go deeper, unfortunately my lady.¡±

    ¡°Where are we going?¡±

    ¡°The Supreme One¡¯s personal quarters.¡±

 The Cost of Defiance

    There are many otherworlders in this world, from all walks of life. Engineers, doctors, and politicians. They each carried their skills from life and were transitioning those skills to life here. Unfortunately, the Demon King does not tolerate otherworldly technology. Any attempts to advance or change anything based on other world experience were punishable by death. It was okay here, in this little town, as the Demon King¡¯s armies had not reached here yet. But they march every day, and they are successful. I need to get stronger soon, so that I can stop him from killing us all.

    <hr>

    ¡°Elder Chastings is coming a few days.¡± Fel said, reading her book by the warm stove. It had been burning for several nights now, thanks to Markus¡¯s new influx of coal.

    ¡°Elder Chastings?¡± Markus said, poking at the burning coals with a small metal rod. ¡°Who¡¯s that again?¡± The name was vaguely familiar to him.

    ¡°He¡¯s the Great Lord in charge of the entire coal production of the Empire!¡± Fel gasped, nearly throwing her book at her ignorant brother.

    ¡°A Great Lord? Here, the middle of nowhere?¡± Markus turned to her.

    ¡°I read the letter from him to Master Krell. He¡¯s inspecting the productivity of each of his mines.¡± Fel¡¯s eyes shot to their coal stash, which was overflowing.

    ¡°I¡¯ve only been skimming from them. It¡¯s not enough to dent production.¡± Markus said, sensing her thoughts.

    ¡°But, big brother.¡± She smiled, a smile Markus knew meant she was concerned. ¡°We have over seventy pieces now. That¡¯s more than enough for us to escape. Don¡¯t you think?¡±

    Markus sighed.

    ¡°More is always better Fel.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s such a thing as too much. And pushing it.¡± She pouted, crawling over to Markus, placing her head down on his lap.

    ¡°We¡¯ll leave by the end of this week.¡± Markus said, turning back towards the flames, running his fingers through Fel¡¯s snowy hair.

    ¡°Promise?¡¯ She said.

    Markus nodded.

    ¡°What¡¯d you want to do in the Eastern Hearth?¡±This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    ¡°I wanna eat fresh bread. The Masters only give us the hard biscuits. I wanna try fish too. It isn¡¯t far from the Frozen Seas, so every once in a while they come back with a catch.¡± Fel smiled.

    She confused Markus. How could someone mature enough to handle merchant and legal documents also act like a little child?

    ¡°I promise you I¡¯ll get you that fish.¡± He smiled, almost laughing.

    ¡°Hey!¡± She sat up, slapping him on the arm. ¡°Don¡¯t laugh. My book says the fish are kinda fatty, whatever that means, but have good salty after taste.¡±

    Markus went to work that next day a little brighter than he¡¯s always been. He led from the front of the lines and hammered away with an enthusiasm that would have normally earned him a beating. And yet the Masters did nothing. They just watched him, never acknowledging his happy mood. He picked and smashed, placing the coal into his sack. It was a strange thing. How can an ugly rock, so black and devoid of life, give so much of it? Markus didn¡¯t know how coal burnt. He just knew it did. And it burnt well.

    And of course, it was strange that it was also the source of his misery. How could something that give life, make him hate his own so much? But these days would soon be behind him. Soon, he would leave the camp with Fel, and they would make themselves a new life in the Eastern Hearth. Away from the Masters he had known since youth.

    The Masters he stole from. Markus held back a satisfied smile as he marched back towards the settlement at the end of the day. He plowed through the snow, pride flaming in his chest. He had stolen from them and they had not known. Several nights of sneaking in and taking from them, and yet they did nothing.

    It helped that Melony was always there, Master¡¯s Krell¡¯s personal servant. She helped Markus into and out of the building, allowing him to take upwards of seventy pieces from their storage in the basement.

    He had beaten the Masters. Though they ruled over him, he had taken from them. That was a power in of itself. A power of rebellion.

    He stopped as he entered the camp. Master Krell was nowhere to be found. Normally he would have been standing there, rationing off the bits to the workers, and yet he was not.

    Instead, strung up on a metal pole was the mangled body of a girl. She had been beaten to the point of being unrecognizable, her face nothing but a bloody bruised mess. Blood still trinkled down from the body, showing that she was freshly killed.

    Panic set into Markus. He rushed forward, checking the body as Masters Roy and Thomas watched, holding back laughter. He stopped under it, looking up at her. Her hair was black. Melony.

    ¡°A shame boy.¡± Master Thomas smiled, walking up to him, twirling his metal cane. ¡°I was rather found of the young in. Too bad Master Krell found a new one.¡± He grinned with yellow teeth.

    Markus shot past him, headed towards his tin home. She had to be safe, wouldn¡¯t she? She¡¯s too valuable for Master Krell to hurt. She¡¯s too important for him to lose. She wouldn¡¯t beat her too much, as she need her hands to write.

    And yet the hovel was ransacked. It was torn apart, the metal strewn about, the torn pages of several books scattered everywhere. The coal was gone of course. The Masters would of found it.

    Markus fell to his knees, rage bellowing inside him as the orange sun set below the horizon. They took everything again. And this time, they took the one thing he was living for. He slung his pickaxe over his shoulder, and stormed off in the direction of the Cottage.

 A Mundane Abode

    I made friends with an older Holy Man. His name is Qun. His powers are strange and mystical, they remind me of buddhist monks of Earth. He told me his religion worships the god of flames, and that they safe guard the World Forge, that tall tower that I was born of, as the origin of all life. If it were every to stop burning, then the world would end.

    <hr>

    Merrill did not know what she expected. They had descended deeper than she could ever imagine, down another flight of stairs, moving from endless hallway to endless hallway to finally reach this place.

    It was not a grand bedroom. Of course, it was quite lavish and comfortable, with a hard wood floor and open fire place, but it was much smaller than she had expected.

    A suit of silver armor lay assembled on a stand in one corner, while several blades were hung up on another wall. The bed was a grand king sized bed, lavish with velvet sheets and dozens of pillows. In the far corner, facing the fire place, was a lavish chair, with a small wooden table next it, a large tome atop it.

    A lone wooden night stand lay beside the bed, with an iron lock sealing it shut.

    ¡°Please don¡¯t touch anything my Lady.¡± Thaim sighed, tip toeing into the room.

    ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t know what to say.¡± Merrill said, taking the room in. She expected pictures, ancient artifacts, something that would clue her in to who exactly the Supreme One was, of the man she suspected was behind the god. And yet the room seemed bare.

    ¡°Rather mundane, wouldn¡¯t you say my Lady?¡± Thaim smiled.

    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± Merrill had run over to the large book, opening it. ¡°What? I can¡¯t read this. This looks like a bunch of gibberish.¡±

    The book was indeed some kind of journal, completely hand written. It seemed to be arranged by dates, but she couldn¡¯t tell which dates.

    ¡°I said not to touch anything.¡± Thaim scolded. ¡°This is the Supreme One¡¯s personal journal. It¡¯s written in a tongue no one knows but the Supreme One himself.¡±

    ¡°Should we steal this?¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t my Lady. It¡¯s worthless to us. Most of the important details, we trust, were translated by the Supreme One, available in the royal archives.¡±

    ¡°You really trust his word on that?¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    Thaim shrugged. The truth was he wish he could steal this tome. But the Supreme One would know it was him. After all, he had been asking for it. The goddess, on the other hand, Thaim was sure the Supreme One had forgotten about her.

    ¡°Here my Lady.¡± Thaim said, pointing toward a wooden door at the far side of the small room.

    There was another staircase leading down.

    The area opened into light. Water flowed from several pipes, creating a moat around a small island at the center of this large room. The same mysterious lights, although dimmer now, illuminated the surroundings. A bridge, or more accurately, several stones sprawled out from the bottom of the staircase, providing passage across the water.

    Merrill skipped across with expert dexterity, Thaim hopping clumsily behind her.

    It was like a stone coffin, with the image of a great tree carved upon it. Runes of a forgotten language marked its top, seemingly indicating its occupant.

    Merrill went to the right side and began to push. It would not budge.

    ¡°Its¡­ too¡­ heavy.¡± She grunted.

    ¡°Please move my Lady.¡± Thaim said, robbing his hands together. Merrill watched him, amused that the little man would attempt such a thing.

    Thaim reached within himself, letting the fire that burnt within his soul spread to his muscles. They flexed and bulged, popping his robe as his form grew thick. With effort he heaved, and the coffin slowly slid open.

    ¡°Thaim. What¡¯s this? Some kind of skill?¡± Merrill said, mouth nearly agape in surprise.

    ¡°Do not insult me, my Lady.¡± Thaim grunted, muscles still buldging. ¡°This is not your heretical ¡°Blessed¡± Magic. This is Old Magic. The Magic of the World Forge.¡± He said, finally pushing the heavy cover open.

    Thaim gasped for air, the flames in his muscle growing cold. They deflated, like balloons, reducing him back to his pudgy little size. Thaim bent over, the effort exhausting him, and yet the flames within still burnt strong. He could feel it in his belly.

    Merrill looked within the coffin, and to her surprise, despite the fact that it was her objective, was a girl. She slept soundly, her long blonde hair parted to her sides, reaching as far down to her hips. She wore a simple cloth dress, and had no shoes.

    ¡°This is the goddess?¡± Merrill asked, eyeing the girl.

    ¡°My lady. Please take her. We must leave soon. I fear Agathe may return any moment.¡±

    Merrill reached into the coffin, slinging the woman over her shoulders. Thaim¡¯s muscles bulged once again as he slid the coffin shut. Merrill skipped across the stones with ease, despite her burden, Thaim hopping slowly behind her.

    They began their ascent, back through the Supreme One¡¯s room, across the hallways, and approached the spiral staircase.

    ¡°Stop.¡± Thaim whispered, peeking around the corner that led up to the throne room.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Merrill asked, the woman hanging from her shoulder.

    ¡°Agathe has returned.¡±

    Thaim feared the Hands. Standing near seven feet tall, they wore thick dark priestly robes that obscured the entirety of their forms, metal masks covering their eyes, leaving a small bit of their face exposed. And what was exposed was horrific. The skin seems to be burnt away; in fact it was still burning, flickers of embers smoldering of what was left of the skin. The lips were gone, revealing a gnarly grin of white teeth. They were creatures of nightmares.

    And one of them was walking down the hallway towards them.

 The Masters

    There are so many classes. You have your standard warriors and mages, and you have your super unique classes. We otherworlders are given a choice of what class we want, but it seems that whatever we choose defines us and our descendants. I still don¡¯t know what I want.

    I¡¯m level 23 now. Still classless. Turns out I can delay as much as I want. Even at level 100 I can choose my class, and I¡¯ll just get all the skills for it I should of gotten along the way. Mariah scolds me for this. I can¡¯t really contribute to the party classless.

    But, how awesome would it be if I fought the demon lord without a class?

    <hr>

    Markus ran towards the cottage, cresting the hill with his pickaxe over his back. How could he be so stupid? How could he have let his pride get the better of him? He slammed into the door thin hard leather skinned door, pushing it open with the force of his charge.

    He was in the common area. And there, lying on the floor, was Fel. Bruises ran up and down her exposed arms and legs. Her face was swollen purple where a cane had hit her, blood staining her white hair red. She quivered in fear, shooting a look of terror as Markus readied his weapon.

    All around, every Master watched on amused. Some were already drinking, metal canes by their sides, ready to strike him down. It was what they wanted. A way to entertain themselves in this dreary landscape. They were going to beat Markus to death.

    Thomas and Roy stepped in behind him. He was surrounded.

    ¡°Think you can steal from us huh?¡± Master Krell said, face firm. He sat just behind where Fel was, his cane already bloodied. The hard Master stared at Markus, irritation welling up behind his eyes.

    ¡°You¡¯re damn right.¡± Markus bragged, swinging his weapon forward. ¡°You take and you take, and you take. I won¡¯t let you take anything anymore.¡±

    ¡°A lot of fight in him for being a miner it seems.¡± Master Thomas giggled behind him. ¡°Usually these are the drearier ones.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll die here boy. Your good stock, but we won¡¯t hesitate to kill you for stealing our coal. Surrender, and your sister lives.¡± Master Krell said, taping his cane by Fel¡¯s head. She curled up into herself, covering her face.

    ¡°As you¡¯re plaything.¡±Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    Krell shrugged.

    ¡°You don¡¯t seem to understand. This is what you Commons are. Just workers. The Deep Winter is a harsh mistress. It takes from us everything. If we¡¯re not hard in turn, then humanity will die out. It¡¯s a basic tenet the Supreme One dictates. It¡¯s what separates us Blessed from you Commons. We are given the burden of responsibility for humanity.¡±

    Markus charged forward, leaping high into the air, swinging his axe downward onto Krell¡¯s head.

    [Evasion]

    With great speed, Krell tilted his head aside, the axe crashing against the table behind him with crack.

    Krell swung, his metal cane digging into Markus¡¯s ribs with a crack. He hissed in pain, thrown slightly backwards by the blow. Markus saw the next swing coming, blocking with the handle of his axe. Metal hit metal, sparks flying as the sheer force of Krell¡¯s strength bucked Markus to his knees. The next swing shattered his left arm, causing the bone to jut from his skin.

    The axe hit the ground as Markus grabbed his fractured appendage. The blow was not a light blow. This was the full power of a Master ready to kill.

    Fel cowered, covering her ears as she whimpered on the floor. Markus saw her, a weak pathetic thing, calling out his name under her breath. And so he rose, holding a shaky weapon with one hand.

    ¡°He¡¯s got A lot of fight in ¡®im Krell.¡± Master Thomas roared, clapping his hands in delight.

    Krell spun his cane, causally ducking out of the way of Markus¡¯s swing awkward swing. The next three strikes were to Markus¡¯s thigh, rib, and collar bone. Each shattered with a nasty crunch, Markus collapsed onto the ground.

    The Masters roared in laughter, many downing their drinks to the spectacle before him.

    ¡°Shame boy. If you were stronger, you may have bested me. But you are below us.¡± Krell said, looming over the boy.

    He began to crawl, ¡°Someone help me¡­ please...¡± He whimpered, dragging himself along the floor, weapon in tow. ¡°Help¡­¡± He gripped a leg.

    ¡°Are you gonna help him Roy?¡± Master Ned laughed. ¡°He¡¯s asking you for help.¡±

    Krell stepped closer and closer to him, ready to deliver the killing blow. Master Roy swallowed, averting his eyes as Krell readied his weapon.

    Markus shot up, boosting himself with one leg, driving the pick deep into Roy¡¯s heart. The room went quiet, blood seeping from the wound.

    Krell yanked the boy back, flinging him across the floor. Roy fell backwards, his head hitting the table¡¯s edge, a streak of blood marking where it hit.

    ¡°He¡¯s dead.¡± Master Thomas said, cradling the younger Master in his arms. ¡°That Common killed him. He¡¯s dead!¡± Thomas shot up, a fireball forming in his hands.

    ¡°Stop.¡± Krell raised his hand. ¡°He doesn¡¯t deserve death by Blessing. We have these canes for a reason.¡±

    Markus had done it. He had hurt and killed one of the Masters. He knew he was dead the moment he entered this room. And yet, this was all he could do. He crawled along the ground, dragging blood against the stone floor as he reached for Fel¡¯s hand.

    The young girl¡¯s eyes meet his as he approached. She inched her hand closer to his as he reached out.

    Krell¡¯s metal plated boot shattered Markus¡¯s fingers as it came down. He kicked the boy in the side, flipping him over, ready to slam the cane down on his face.

    ¡°What is this?¡± A voice called out.

 The Escape

    Levels, not equipment matters. Of course, you could get magical equipment, swords that light on fire, cloaks that can make you light as air, but no piece of equipment dramatically gives you power over others. It¡¯s all innate, based on of how you best use your party that creates power. The gods balanced us well. Level 100s can be taken down by others. All you have to do is try.

    <hr>

    Thrace¡¯s fist crunched the helmet of the man he punched, the metal caving into his skull. He fell backwards dead into a plume of snow.

    ¡°Thirty-Seven.¡± Thrace muttered to himself.

    His cloak was off now, revealing his tank top underneath, his exposed arms steaming from exertion. Around him, three more guards stood around him in a circle, spears forward, but they did not move. They were traitors. Commons who served as the foot soldiers of the Supreme One. If a rebellion were to spur up, the Nobles, too proud to deal with rabble, would send their Common armies to quell them. It was always successful. These men were well trained and could deal with mob armies. However, someone like Thrace was too much even for them.

    He huffed, trudging forward towards one of the guards. The left one stabbed with his weapon, but Thrace grabbed the tipped and bent it with his fingers. The other attacked, only for his weapon to be yanked from him. The final man charged, only for Thrace to side step him, driving a spear into the guard¡¯s stomach. He slumped over, gripping the shaft as Thrace drove it into the ground right through his body.  He screamed and screamed, but Thrace still drove onward, letting his rage fill him as blood poured from the man, his friends helpless.

    And one moved. He drew his dagger, and plunged into Thrace¡¯s back, the metal digging deep into his flesh. Thrace roared, spinning around and breaking the man¡¯s neck with punch, a sickening crack echoing as he spun into the snow several feet.

    ¡°Thirty-Eight. Thirty-Nine.¡± Thrace huffed, looming over the last.

    ¡°Supreme One¡­ have mercy¡­¡± The guard quivered as the gigantic man stood over him, his gnarled hands wrapping around his neck.

    ¡°My Lady¡­listen very carefully.¡± Thaim whispered as the Hand walked down the hallway. ¡°I will distract him. But whatever you do, you must not use any skills. He will find you the moment you do.¡±

    Merrill nodded.

    ¡°Go quickly. Into one of the backrooms. Be silent.¡± Thaim waved, standing to compose himself as Merrill skittered away.

    The Hand stepped out of corner, his seven-foot frame standing over the small man, a grizzly steaming grin plastered permanently on its face.

    ¡°Oh, ancestors give me strength¡­¡± he muttered to himself, trying to stop his knees from shaking.

    Merrill had hidden in the closest room she could find. It was a small meeting room, with a table of minimal arrangement at its center. The walls were plain, laid with gray brick, a small flickering lamp hanging at the room¡¯s center.   This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Merrill placed an ear to the door, trying to see if she could discern any conversation. She could make out Thaim¡¯s shrill voice, stammering and stuttering. And she could hear¡­ something else. Something almost¡­ demonic. Like how she imagined an Ice Wraith would talk like. A gnarly voice, like an old man choking on smoke. It seemed more like a beast growling than someone speaking, and yet Merrill could just barely distinguish coherence to the voice. It made her shiver.

    She crouched, looking under the door for movement. She felt it before she saw it. Heat. Overwhelming heat, like a furnace, first starting at the far end of the room, and growing hotter as the figure moved closer. A boot hit the ground outside, stopping in front of the door.

    It was overwhelming. The creature¡¯s gaze was like the sun, sending a plume of hot air into the room. Merrill covered her mouth, sweat drenching her as the room steamed.

    The goddess awoke, nearly letting out a cry as Merrill reacted, locking her in a hold. She squirmed a bit, but soon passed out from the choke.

    The presence was gone. The room had begun to cool down. A few minutes passed before the goddess awoke again, her golden eyes gazing up at Merrill from where she laid on her lap.

    ¡°What was that presence?¡± The goddess asked.

    Merrill shook her head.

    ¡°Where is this? Who are you?¡±

    ¡°Not now. I¡¯m just getting you out of here.¡±

    Footsteps stopped outside the door. Merrill panicked, drawing a dagger. However, the room remained cool.  A soft knock came on the door.

    ¡°Thaim?¡± Merrill said through the wood.

    ¡°We must go my lady.¡± Thaim¡¯s voice called.

    ¡°Come on.¡± Merrill said, picking up the goddess. ¡°Put this on.¡± Merrill took off her cloak, wrapping it around the blonde woman who was dressed only in a thin dress.

    ¡°Many thanks.¡± She said, wrapping herself in it.

    ¡°Agathe knows about the commotion outside.¡± Thaim said as they scrambled up the staircase to the throne room. ¡°He was¡­ laughing.¡±

    ¡°He didn¡¯t want to stop us? I don¡¯t doubt he could¡¯ve killed everyone.¡± Merrill said, tugging the goddess by the hand.

    Thaim shook his head. ¡°I do not why he has done nothing.¡±

    This is bad. He wants to hunt us. I know it. Merrill thought to herself.

    ¡°I must leave you here. I cannot afford being seen.¡± Thaim said as they stumbled out into the throne room. ¡°Best wishes my lady. I will keep in contact.¡± He said, turning to look at the goddess in disdain.

    ¡°Thank you Thaim.¡± Merrill said, pulling the goddess with her.

    ¡°What is this place? The Demon King¡¯s palace?¡± The goddess asked, glancing around as they stepped into the long hallway.

    ¡°This is the Capital Hearth. It¡¯s the Supreme One¡¯s palace.¡±

    ¡°Capital Hearth? Supreme One? Has the Demon King taken on a new title?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know who the Demon King is, but the Supreme One is pretty close to one I¡¯d imagine.¡± Merrill smiled.

    ¡°Snow¡­ Are we in Chelmer Mountains? The Issrian Tundras?¡±

    They ran towards the gate, which was gnarled and twisted open from earlier. Thrace leaned against it, Milli at his side, healing his wounds. Severus and Anton stood a little away, watching for more guards.

    ¡°Boss. You¡¯re back. This is the target I¡¯m guessing?¡± Thrace said as she approached.

    ¡°Hand! We have to go. Now!¡± Merrill said.

    Anton turned to her upon hearing this, fear swelling up in the pit of his stomach.

    Thrace nodded, scooping up the goddess and Milli into his arms, before turning and charging away. Merrill ran out, nodding to both Anton and Severus.

    Anton just stood there as the other two scrambled away. He looked out at the destruction. Bodies numbering close to a hundred, scattered amongst the snow. Broken spears and pieces of armor decorated the blood red streets. Some men were still alive, groaning in pain as the snows fell on them, burying them. A white grave.

    Anton shook off his fear, and ran, disappearing into a back alley.

    Agathe saw him from the Hearth spire. He smiled, steam pouring from his mouth. He memorized his face and would know it forever. He was excited. It had been so long since there had been an inquisition.

 Lord Chastings

    We gather together, forming our own cities. Cities enhanced by the knowledge of otherworlders. The native people hate and fear us, and for good reason. We are so much stronger than them. Even a Level 2 can take on several grown men in a fight. Now imagine a Level 40. We don¡¯t even have to use skills on them. They can¡¯t hurt us, and they can¡¯t stop us. Many worship and revere us as gods. It¡¯s fucked up. I hate it. What the hell is this?

    Mariah assures me that¡¯s its just the way the world is. But more and more otherworlders come into this world every day. Even a few dozen of us can devastate a country. What are the gods thinking?

    Connor agrees with me, even how annoying he is.

    We¡¯re not gods.

    <hr>

    Lord Chastings handed his fur coat to a standing Common servant, who took it and folded it into his arm. He strolled into the Masters¡¯ cottage, his well-tailored suit adding to his air of authority despite his old age. The Masters all stood aside respectfully as he approached Markus, who was bleeding on the ground.

    ¡°A rebel, Krell?¡± He asked.

    ¡°Yes my lord.¡± Krell bowed his head. ¡°I was taking care of it.¡±

    ¡°By making a show of entertainment.¡± Lord Chastings sighed. ¡°Fool. You must punish them in secret, and it must be done efficiently. Not as some drunken show to relish yourselves. This is why you Masters are low born Nobles.¡± He sighed.

    ¡°Great Lord Chastings¡­¡± Markus heard Fel whisper as she sat up, despite her wounds.

    ¡°You, girl.¡± He said, noticing Fel. She bowed her head in reverence. ¡°You are the one who writes the ledgers correct?¡±

    ¡°Yes, my lord.¡± She quivered.

    ¡°And I suppose you are the one who proposed that shipping plan? Krell isn¡¯t smart enough to think of that, despite his claims.¡±

    Krell looked at her in disdain, telling her to be quiet with his eyes.

    ¡°Yes, my lord. I wrote that.¡± Fel said.

    Lord Chastings nodded in approval.

    ¡°There¡­ there is no proof my lord!¡± Krell cried.

    ¡°Silence!¡± He slammed his cane on the ground, the whole cottage shaking. ¡°I already know she wrote it. I just wanted to see if she could affirm it.¡±

    ¡°But¡­ but how?¡±

    A man stepped into the cottage. He was a handsome noble, with a smile on his face, his blonde hair slicked back, dark cloak draped over his shoulders.

    ¡°Lord Tevius.¡± Krell said, cursing under his breath. ¡°Rogue¡­¡±This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    ¡°I popped by a couple days ago.¡± He smiled. ¡°Watched you lot drink away Great Lord Chastings money. You¡¯ve been skimming coal for your parties I noticed.¡± Tevius said.

    ¡°Tevius reported the situation back to me, which is why I am here today.¡± Chastings said.

    ¡°Damned House dog...¡± Krell cursed again.

    ¡°You dare speak ill of one of my vassal houses before me?¡± Chastings flared.

    ¡°Forgive me my lord.¡± His eyes shot to Master Roy. ¡°My lord, there is a more pressing issue at hand.¡±

    ¡°Ah. Roy. So, the Common killed him?¡± Chastings said, stepping over to the dead Master.

    ¡°Impressive.¡± Tevius said with a whistle. ¡°Very Impressive.¡±

    ¡°Unfortunate.¡± Chastings sighed. ¡°Krell I want this common dead before the day¡¯s end.¡±

    ¡°No!¡± Fel leapt, prostrating herself before the Great Lord¡¯s feet. ¡°Please my lord. Spare him.¡±

    ¡°I cannot. From what Tevius has told me, you are a clever girl. A genius even. You should know the law.¡±

    ¡°The Experience Mines my lord. Send him there instead.¡± She pleaded.

    ¡°Rise girl.¡± Chastings gestured.

    ¡°I cannot my lord. My leg is broken.¡±

    [Greater Healing]

    Fel¡¯s leg felt warm and pleasant as the energy spread throughout her body. Her pain faded away, the throbbing on her face stopped and the wound on her head closed. She felt good. very good. Fel rose to her feet, keeping her head bowed down as she thanked the Great Lord.

    ¡°What is your name girl?¡± Lord Chastings asked.

    ¡°Fel my lord.¡±

    ¡°The truth is young Fel, I have come for two reasons today. Not just to address Krell¡¯s abuse of power, but also to retrieve the asset he has been hiding from me.¡±

    Fel looked up in surprise. Chastings nodded.

    ¡°I want you to come to the Eastern Hearth and serve as House Chastings¡¯ secretary.¡±

    Markus smiled. A Great House Common was the equivalent of nobility to their people. She would have several outfits of clothing, warm meals, and access to all the books she could ever want. She would be treated well and could only be beaten in the most extreme of circumstances. It was like a fairy tale, a dream that other Commons hope they could become. And here it was, carried out before them, a dream come true.

    ¡°My lord¡­¡± She looked to Markus.

    [Greater Healing]

    Markus felt as his bones fixed themselves, the energy pouring into him as the pain faded from his body. He rose too, and bowed before the Great Lord¡¯s power, anger inside him, reminding him how powerless he was before the Nobles.

    ¡°Very well Fel. I shall acknowledge your wish. Your brother here will be sent to the Experience Mines for a year. If he lives, then I shall employ him in my household as a laborer.¡±

    ¡°My lord?¡± Fel asked, tears welling up in her eyes. ¡°You are too kind.¡±

    If I live. Nine out of ten die in those mines. The very few that survive are usually maimed. Markus thought to himself. But it¡¯s my only way out, and Fel knows it. If it hadn¡¯t been the Mines, I would¡¯ve been taken out back and beaten to death.

    ¡°I trust this is enough to buy your loyalty.¡± Chastings said.

    ¡°It¡¯s a good deal.¡± Tevius smiled, stroking his chin. He walked over to the stone table and poured himself some ale. ¡°Cheap swill. I love it.¡± He said as he downed the froth.

    ¡°Name, boy.¡± Chastings commanded.

    ¡°Markus.¡± He replied.

    ¡°Very well. By the power invested in me by our one true god, the Supreme One, Lord of the Frosts and protector of the World Forge, I carry out this punishment under the condition of young Fel¡¯s employment.¡±

    ¡°My lord.¡± Markus said.

    ¡°Speak Markus.¡±

    ¡°My sister will be safe right? She¡¯ll be taken care of?¡± He asked, turning to look at his sister. She was holding back tears, but a few streamed down her face as their eyes met.

    ¡°I promise.¡± He said.

    ¡°Lord Chastings is the best chap.¡± Tevius said, leaning back on his chair, balancing his mug with two fingers. ¡°It¡¯s why I love working for him.¡± He winked. ¡°He always keeps his promises.¡±

    Markus bowed.

    ¡°Krell. Take the boy away. Do not harm him, or I shall strike you down and wipe your House from existence.¡± Lord Chastings commanded.

    Markus intertwined his hand with Fel¡¯s, and held it there for several seconds, before he was pulled away by the angry Master. Their eyes never left each other as he was pulled out the door.

 Hiding

    Qun has told me that the World Forge contains the flames of creations. It is the very power from which all life originates. Holymen store a piece of the flames within themselves. They can use it to imbue themselves with life. Increased strength, speed, vitality, power. I do not know how it works, Qun would not tell me, but it was different from Skills.

    <hr>

    The shop was situated at the edge of the city, as far away from the Hearth as possible. It sat at the border between the merchant district and the Boroughs, the part of the city that housed Commons. Of course, a bookshop was a strange thing to put so close to the Commons. It was too far away to be convenient for any Nobles looking for anything, and books were too expensive and useless for Commons to bother with. Given that fact, it never had any customers. And that¡¯s what made it the perfect base for a rebellion against the Eternal Empire, right under the Supreme One¡¯s nose.

    Even though it was mostly deserted, Thrace still sat near its front, leaning against the chair with his arms crossed. He kept his eyes on the door, his feet on edge, ready to spring up at the sign of any intrusion.  Severus managed the desk at the front, scribbling away on top of leather strips that functioned as paper. The books of the shop too, were made of this leather, with their binding a harder leather. Paper was extremely rare; most paper books originating from the Pre-Frost era.

    The metal books shelves also acted as perfect cover. Their maze-like arrangement made it easy to conceal Milli, who was seated in a far corner, perusing various story books and sipping on tea. Merrill and the goddess, Illyra, sat a short distance from her, talking.

    ¡°No weaknesses that I know of.¡± Illyra said. ¡°You¡¯ll have to beat him in a fight.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s impossible. He¡¯s god.¡± Merrill said, leaning back in her chair.

    ¡°No. I¡¯m a god. He¡¯s just a Blessed One. And so are you. But your level is too low.¡± She said, sipping on tea.

    ¡°You keep saying that, what does that mean?¡± Merrill said, sitting back up and leaning forward.

    ¡°You¡¯re the second strongest in this group at level 28. That girl over there is level 37. The Demon King is level 100. You¡¯ll have to level up if you wish to fight him properly.¡±

    ¡°So, you¡¯re telling me, he can be beaten?¡± Merrill¡¯s eyes widened as she leaned closer.

    ¡°Yes. It¡¯s very possible. It¡¯s the system we designed after all. We made it so Blessed Ones can be toppled. All you have to do is level up.¡±

    ¡°But what does that mean?¡± Merrill said, scratching her head in frustration.

    ¡°You need Experience.¡± She said.

    ¡°That stuff that some Nobles like to hoard? But it¡¯s just useless crystals¡­¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Milli said, looking up from her book. ¡°The Supreme One gifts Experience to Nobles who are worthy. It¡¯s how a low house can eventually rise to a Great one. Milli doesn¡¯t know how it works, but grandpapa had a good amount of it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve stolen crystals before. I never understood how they worked.¡±

    ¡°You need a goddess to metabolize the power for you and give it to.¡± Illyra said. ¡°Give me the crystals, and I can raise your level.¡±

    ¡°And when we reach level 100¡­¡±

    ¡°You can face the Demon King, and win. Easily, if you outnumber him.¡± She said.

    ¡°Milli, you just said that your grandfather had a huge stockpile?¡± Merrill turned to Milli, who was writing something into the books with a charcoal pen.

    ¡°Hmm? Ah, yes. Well, not big. Milli saw it. Only a few crystals. Not enough to fit in your hand.¡±

    ¡°Good girl Milli.¡± She smiled. Milli stood up and ran over to her. Merrill patted her head like she was a puppy.

    ¡°What you thinking Merrill?¡± Milli asked as she was getting pat.

    ¡°Well,¡± Merrill began, embracing Milli into a hug. ¡°I¡¯m thinking, I hit a couple Noble houses, take a bit of their Experience, and use the goddess here to raise our level.¡±

    ¡°Milli wouldn¡¯t recommend that. Most Nobles have Rangers posted to guard against Rogues and Assassins.¡± Milli said.

    ¡°Oh Milli. You underestimate me so. It breaks big sister¡¯s heart.¡± She said, squeezing the younger girl harder. ¡°Severus!¡± She yelled.

    ¡°Yes boss?¡± Severus answered from the front desk.

    ¡°Is Anton back yet?¡±

    ¡°He still running the errand. Securing us a ride out of the Capital.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s concerning. He shouldn¡¯t¡¯ be taking this long.¡± Merrill sighed, letting Milli go. ¡°Honestly, robbing the Noble might actually be a bad idea. It only takes a good Ranger and some counter Assassins, and I¡¯m done for.¡± Merrill sat down, thinking for a second. ¡°What about the Experience Mines?¡±

    ¡°The Experience¡­ Mines?¡± Illyra said, tilting her head in confusion.

    ¡°Yes. It¡¯s where the Nobles get the Experience from. It¡¯s also famous for being essentially capital punishment for misbehaving Commons.¡± The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    A loud hissing noise echoed through the bookshop, interrupting the conversation.

    ¡°Dammit! Thrace!¡± Merrill yelled.

    ¡°Yes Boss?¡±

    ¡°The pipe burst again.¡±

    ¡°I got it.¡±

    ¡°The pipes?¡± Illyra asked.

    ¡°We keep the pressure mounted in the building. In case we need to literally blow shop. Mask an escape so to speak.¡± She said with a wink. Illyra just nodded. ¡°So about these mines¡­¡±

    The door swung open, the bell ringing out as Anton entered. He stopped in front of Severus, looking down at his feet.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Severus asked, raising an eyebrow, but not looking up from his work.

    ¡°I¡­ I betrayed you.¡± Anton said, looking ashamed.

    The windows exploded, forcing Severus to duck behind the desk. Anton was caught in the blast, sending him flying against a bookshelf. Thrace steeled himself, bracing up against the chair. Milli ducked under the table, Merrill drawing forth her daggers and rushing to the front of the shop.

    A shadowy figure entered, its long robes trailing behind it as it casually entered the shop, unconcerned by the shards of glass. It clasped its hands together as it entered, perpetual grin on its face. Steam fumed from it as it exhaled, scanning the room. Merrill braced up as soon as she saw it, crouching down with both daggers forward.

    ¡°A Fallen Hand.¡± Severus said, mouth agape, peeking over the desktop.

    The creature¡¯s grin seemed to widen when it spotted Merrill. It unclasped its hands, and stretched them out into a t pose, as if relishing the atmosphere of destruction around it. Its masked face locked itself with Merrill eyes, and it flourished into a wide bow. It looked up, as if expecting a reaction.

    ¡°By the frosts¡­¡± Merrill cursed.

    [Charge of Bull]

    Thrace slammed into the thing at incredible speed, smashing into a pillar behind it. He pressed against it, delivering several hard punches into its gut. It did not react. Instead, it responded, backhanding Thrace and sending him flying several feet backwards.

    [Magical Strike] Severus answered, sending out several green bursts of light, which dug into the Hand¡¯s chest, burning the robes but not penetrating any deeper. It casually strolled up to Merrill, steam pouring from where it had been hit. [Lethal Strike] at blinding speeds she sliced into the throat and arteries. The attack caused a plume of steam to burst from the wound, but the creature was unaffected. It wrapped its hands around Merrill neck, and began to squeeze, hard.

    ¡°Good. Suffer.¡± It said, steam emerging as it spoke. ¡°You have something that doesn¡¯t belong to you.¡± It growled. ¡°Where is it?¡±

    Merrill stabbed and flailed, driving one dagger into its neck, the other into its chest. It didn¡¯t react, though steam burst from the wounds, like a pipe under pressure. Thrace tackled the creature, throwing it down onto the ground, pinning it with a lock. Severus leapt over the counter, delivering another round of magical blasts into it. Anton just stood there, dumb founded.

    Milli emerged, towing Illyra by the hand.

    ¡°What is that monster?¡± Illyra asked the girl.

    Milli shook her head.

    The Hand exploded upwards, slamming Thrace against the ceiling. It shrugged off several slices from Merrill, smashing her aside as it strode towards Illyra. She backed away in fear, but the figure just wouldn¡¯t stop approaching.

    [Boisterous Blow] Anton struck, delivering a cross to its face. The creature¡¯s head jerked slightly, but it kept walking.

    ¡°Stop damn you!¡± He cried, wrapping his arms around it from behind. It dragged his feet along as it kept walking forward. [Boisterous Blow] he cast again and again, delivering hard strikes to its spine and legs. And yet it would not stop. Anton released his grip, leapt, and slammed an elbow against its metal mask, almost knocking it off. The Hand stopped, turning towards to boy. In one swift motion it drew a dagger and drove it into his eye before he could react. Anton collapsed backwards as the creature pulled its weapon from him.

    ¡°Milli!¡± Merrill cried, charging the beast.

    [Healing] She focused on Anton. But he did not rise. She looked at him in shock, her eyes widening in fear.

    [Deadly Triangle] Merrill slashed across the neck, the thigh, and the chest. The creature tried the same move on Merrill but was buffeted by Severus¡¯s attacks. [Charge of Bull] Thrace zoomed forward, tackling the creature once again and slamming him into a book shelf. It drove its weapon deep into Thrace¡¯s shoulder, causing him to wince in pain. And yet he pinned it, driving him against the wall, books falling around them.

    ¡°Anton is dead.¡± Milli said, looking to Merrill.

    Merrill cursed. ¡°Severus. Time to blow shop. Meet up at the escape hideout. You know what to do.¡±

    ¡°What are you going to do?¡±

    ¡°Play a game.¡± She smiled, readying her weapons. ¡°Thrace! Plan B!¡± She shouted.

    Thrace let go and retreated. Before the Hand could respond, Merrill was on it, delivering several strikes with her weapon. Thrace scooped up the goddess and leapt out the door. Milli and Severus followed.

    ¡°You¡¯re companions abandoned you.¡± It said its demonic voice.

    ¡°I guess they did.¡± She smiled.

    ¡°You¡¯ll die to me.¡± The creature bellowed, drawing a second dagger. It crouched, taking a stance similar to Merrill¡¯s. A Rogue¡¯s stance.

    Merrill¡¯s smile widened. That was what she did when she was in a pinch. She smiled. She crossed her arms, daggers pointed, lowering herself to the ground.

    The Hand attacked, driving its two weapons downward aimed at her chest. Merrill leapt backwards, narrowly escaping the attack. The creature looked up with a grin.

    [Flash Step] The creature warped to her position, stabbing with its weapons. One dagger drove straight through her arm as she narrowly blocked it, causing her to hiss in pain. She leapt backwards once again, the blade sliding from her wound as she did so, blood splattering on the wooden floor. The pipes around them seemed to groan, as if reacting to her injury.

    ¡°Skills? So, you ugly things can use them.¡± She said, gripping her arm.

    ¡°Of course. How do you think we police the Nobles? Make sure they¡¯re kept in line?¡± It said.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to kill the Supreme One so hard.¡± She laughed.

    The creature did not seem amused.

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry. I forgot that he was god. But looks like it¡¯s a trick. A sham. He¡¯s just a little stronger than everyone else, that¡¯s how he controls the Nobles right? By maintaining a slight edge over them, just enough for them to fear him, and fear did the rest.¡± She taunted, a few pipes bursting, steam hissing out.

    About time. Merrill thought. [Decoy] she casted.

    ¡°The Supreme One is the Eternal God. He is more powerful than any mere Noble.¡± The creature said, lifting a dagger towards her. ¡°Certainly, more powerful than some half breed Common. His power can collapse mountains, it can level cities. An army is a mild nuisance to him. And you dare even consider the notion that you could challenge him? Such heresy must be purged.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Should it? But is what you say actually true? Or am I on to something? Could it be it he could actually be killed?¡± The pipes screeched now, steam filling the room.

    ¡°No. He is God.¡± The creature bellowed with pure conviction, enough to make Merrill cringe.

    [Flash Step] The creature was upon her. [Deadly Triangle] It used Merrill¡¯s favorite skill, its blades slicing into her neck, thigh, and chest. Blood exploded from her as she collapsed dead. But her body shimmered away as she fell, fading into the mist.

    The Hand would have frowned, if it could. Merrill skittered out of the shop, Flash Stepping across the street as the shop exploded from the pressure build. Glass, books and metal littered the street, a few chunks of metal soaring into the building across the shop, shattering its windows.

    Merrill dug herself from the snow, and stumbled away, blood seeping from wound.

 What we Fight for

    At level fifty I was considered elite. For some reason, very few people reached this high, most tend to stagnate in the lower thirties. But here I was, my little party, Mariah, Connor and I. We had reached the elite ranks and can now take on some of the hardest bosses in this world.

    I spend a lot of down time talking to Qun. His hatred of the new gods is apparent. The Blessed system, it seems, is made of the same basic substance as the World Forger flames, but with a little more order added to it. Qun would tell me no more, but he considers the Blessed system an insult to the primordial gods. The ones that dwelt before the multiverse began.

    <hr>

    Merrill huffed as she stumbled down the streets, pushing her way past Common snow shovelers, who ignored her. It seems they were used to seeing blood.

    Fear over took the woman. That thing she just faced was much too powerful. It was a devasting creature that she didn¡¯t understand. A priest of the Supreme One. Merrill forced a smile, steeling her resolve and she rounded into an alleyway. The last time she had faced the Hands, it set her life up in flames, inspiring her down the path of rebellion she now walked. They took everything from her, her home, her family, and her lover. She remembered their cold smiles as she watched from her hiding place, as three of them chopped her mother and sister to pieces, flinging their limbs about, hacking into them with stone axes and hoisting the remnants of their bodies up above their heads.

    And yet now she had survived a fight with one. It wasn¡¯t pretty, but she had proven that facing one wasn¡¯t certain death. And with Illyra, even they would become trivial. She began to laugh to herself. Hope burnt within her. They actually stood a chance. It wouldn¡¯t be like that day. Never again.

    Merrill ran through the city, pushing her way into the Noble districts. Now she was getting looks. A woman dripping blood, covered in glass was pushing her way through the nicely dressed crowds. A few snapped at her in anger but noticed her cloak. That of a Rogue. They turned a blind eye to her, grumbling to themselves.

    She passed the Eastern gate of the Hearth, peeking from the corner of her eye the work of two nights ago. It seemed the gate was back in place, as if nothing had happened. Perhaps a Blacksmith had pushed it back into place. The guards were abouy triple in number now, with several squads standing in formation around the gates. No doubt the incident cost a few lives, so these men were especially vigilant. Merrill made sure to blend into a small crowd, pulling up her hood.

    The Noble houses were several stories tall, with gates around them, resembling mini Hearths. They took up a tremendous amount of space, for the high Nobles here needed room for their ice gardens and such.

    Merrill found what she was looking for. A mansion located at the center of Noble district. It was smaller than the others she had pasded, its yard exceedingly small, with only one ice crystal tree decorating it. A butler was standing outside the door and bowed as he noticed her. He gestured her inside. She entered, dripping blood all over the fine rugs, causing the butler to cringe.

    ¡°Master Farran is located in the common area.¡± He said, eying the small drips of blood dropping from her arm. ¡°Perhaps I should fetch some dressing. And some iron threads.

    ¡°No need. Milli will fix me up.¡± She said.

    ¡°Yes, my lady.¡± He bowed.

    ¡°Please don¡¯t bow like that.¡± Merrill said. ¡°Not too long ago I was a house servant too. You don¡¯t need to treat me as Noble.¡±

    ¡°But you are Master Farran¡¯s guest, so I shall treat you as such. Please, at least take this to cover your wound.¡± He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small white handkerchief.

    ¡°Thank you.¡± She said, pressing it against her arm. It soaked red almost immediately.

    ¡°Merrill.¡± Harris sighed. He was seated in an armchair, and sipping on some wine, despite the fact it was still around noon.

    ¡°Merrill!¡± Milli screamed, wrapping her arms around her. [Healing] The wound closed as she squeezed.

    ¡°Glad you¡¯re all right boss.¡± Thrace said, walking up to her and placing a hand on her shoulder.

    ¡°Is the goddess all right?¡¯ Merrill asked.Stolen novel; please report.

    ¡°I am.¡± Illyra said. She was seated on a couch at the other side of the room.

    ¡°Severus¡­ filled me in.¡± Harris said, his brow furrowing. ¡°A Hand¡­¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll get out of here within the hour. Just need to collect ourselves.¡± Merrill said.

    ¡°Yes. No need to worry about your precious little Nobility title being taken from you.¡± Thrace said.

    ¡°That¡¯s not fair Thrace.¡± Harris said. ¡°You know what I have to lose.¡±

    ¡°Father?¡± A little noble girl peeked from behind a wall. A maid walked up to her, pulling the girl away, but not without smiling at Harris. Not the smile of servant. But the smile of someone much more intimate.

    Thrace¡¯s eyes regarded the girl. She stared at him for a moment. He nodded before looking away.

    ¡°She¡¯s grown.¡± He said.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Harris nodded. ¡°She¡¯s a Ranger you know. Just awakened recently. A strong one too.¡±

    ¡°That girl¡­¡± Illyra said, watching as the maid pulled her away.

    ¡°My daughter.¡± Harris said, getting to his feet, placing the silver wine goblet on a small table next to him. ¡°Half Noble, Half Common. The Hands would kill her, and then wipe my House from the face of the planet if they ever found her. Nobles and Commons should never mix.¡± He said, turning to look at Merrill. ¡°Which why I need you all to leave, now.¡±

    ¡°Harris. I understand how you¡¯re feeling, I¡¯m a Noble too, but what we have here is the future.¡± Severus said, gesturing to Illyra. ¡°This woman will help us end a two millennium long dictatorship.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t lose her.¡± Harris shook his head, reaching for his wine glass again, taking a big sip. ¡°I only joined with you all to make a better future for Elaine, a world where a half breed wouldn¡¯t be killed. I refuse to sacrifice her for a world she won¡¯t live in. It¡¯s why I left the rebellion.¡±

    ¡°Harris¡­¡± Thrace said, only to stop himself. ¡°I understand.¡± He sighed.

    ¡°What I did in the garrison. I did for my family.¡± Thrace continued. ¡°I killed dozens of my fellow Commons, all in the name of making a better future for my wife and kids. In a different life, I would be quelling a rebellion, not joining one. But I¡­¡±

    Harris was silent. He knew too well what had happened. A son dead by Thrace¡¯s own axe. Home burnt down by the Fallen Hands.

    ¡°I have the carriage ready for you out back. It will have all the provisions you need to get to the Eastern Hearth. Morgan, my butler, is currently retrieving some coin. It¡¯ll be enough to live fairly comfortably out east.¡± Harris said, swishing his glass. ¡°I have contacts in the city loyal to me. Seek them out, and they¡¯ll help you contact me if anything happens.¡±

    ¡°Harris, thank you. I know you¡¯re risking a lot helping us but trust me. It¡¯s all for a good cause.¡± Merrill said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

    ¡°It¡¯s for Elaine. If that golden eyed woman truly is the way to win¡­ then I¡¯ll believe in you. Believe in the rebellion. For a better tomorrow, without the tyranny of the Supreme One.¡± He downed his drink. ¡°Don¡¯t make me regret it.¡±

    ¡°If I may interrupt¡­¡± Morgan said, entering the room. ¡°Here is the aforementioned coin.¡± He held out a leather satchel to Merrill. ¡°The carriage is ready to leave immediately. Master Farran has cleverly disguised it as a parcel carriage, so you should be able to leave the city without issue. But is suggest you do it quickly, before the Inquisition closes off the gates.¡±

    Merill nodded to Harris one last time, before following Morgan out, the others behind her. Thrace lingered at the door way for a moment, as if wanting to say something, but he remained silent, following the group out.

    ¡°You too big guy. You too.¡± Harris said, sitting back down on his lounger.

    ¡°Daddy!¡± Elaine rushed into the room, hopping onto his lap.

    ¡°Hello princess!¡± he smiled, embracing the girl. She giggled as he held her.

    ¡°She¡¯s been spying on the Dawson boy.¡± The maid, Micah, entered. ¡°Tracking him and pelting him with snowballs from behind the wall.¡±

    ¡°Has she now?¡± Harris smiled. Elaine shook her head, but her smile said it all. ¡°Come on. You too.¡± He gestured to Micah.

    She laughed, and walked up to Harris, taking a seat on his lap too.

    ¡°My two favorite people.¡± He said, wrapping his arms around both. ¡°Doesn¡¯t get any better than this.¡±

    ¡°If only papa would stop day drinking.¡± Micah teased, playfully slapping his face.

    ¡°It¡¯s for stress.¡± He smiled. ¡°Now what¡¯s this about pelting the Dawson boy?¡±

    A loud knock came from the door. A few seconds later, several harder knocks echoed.

    ¡°I¡¯ll get it.¡± Micah said, getting up from his lap, playfully blowing him a kiss. He just leaned back, stupid smile on his face.

    This was what he was fighting for. A world where Micah and Elaine where safe. Where the rebellion was behind them, the Supreme One, an afterthought. Then, he frowned. Who was at the door? He had a little too much and wasn¡¯t thinking straight. He should have been more careful. He should have informed Micah to be more careful.

    ¡°Lord Farran is in the common area.¡± Micah said as she opened the door, head deep in a bow.

    ¡°Thank you. It is urgent business you see.¡± The bald man said.

    ¡°Daddy?¡± Harris picked Elaine up, and placed her down, before getting to his feet, walking to see who it was.

    The man entered. He was dressed in dark robes, similar to a Fallen One, but with elaborate silver spirals running its lengths. He bowed as Harris approached, looking up with a faint smile.

    ¡°May I help you?¡± He asked, letting his fingers graze against the small blade he had hidden on his belt.

    ¡°I am High Inquisitor Harlan. I come to you with some questions about a rebel spotted in these parts.¡±

    Micah proceeded to close the door, but it stopped before closing, something caught in it. An arm. The Fallen Hand pushed its way in, its massive height ducking under the door frame as it stepped inside. Micah pressed against the wall, horrified as it strode past her, hands clasped together.

    ¡°Lord Farran.¡± It bellowed, its voice deep, guttural, and beast like. ¡°A pleasure.¡± Steam fumed from its mouth as it smiled. Harris¡¯s heart dropped.

 Memories of Snow

    A party of level 70s was wiped, conducting a raid on the demon king. The fourth one this year. Death, it seems, is permanent. There is no respawn.

    I am still classless, which apparently is a class onto itself. I¡¯m not too surprised, after all, how many people have tried this trying to make themselves unique. Inner power, inhuman reactions, burst of speed, these are the skills that make up the Classless class. Abilities that focus on enhancing one¡¯s physical capabilities.

    I have heard rumors of a level 90 skill available to the Classless. Limit Breaker. A Classless some three hundred years before me (Apparently most of the reincarnations are from 1990s to the 2000s, but are reincarnated across a long stretch of time) allegedly had the skill. She was incredibly powerful, and only lost a single fight, the fight that resulted in her death.

    ¡­

    Mariah and I are dating now. Well, we were kind of always dating since about two years ago, but we finally acknowledged it to each other.

    I was a loser in the old world. A 23 year old shut in who dropped out of college and was shunned by his family. It took dying in a car accident and being sent to another world for me to have the confidence to confess to a girl.

    I won¡¯t repeat the person I was. Never again.

    <hr>

    ¡°Wake up boy. Time to get to it.¡± Old Chrom shook Markus awake, smiling with his yellow teeth through his scraggy gray beard.

    The man was unusually energic and strong for essentially a death camp and had made himself the de facto leader of workers. He made sure to personally rouse the enslaved, waking them so they are ready for a day in the mines, avoiding a beating for oversleeping.

    Markus rose, his ribs aching from the beatings he received nearly every day. His arms and legs were covered in deep cuts on account of the jagged gem formations located within the mines. He had also lost weight. Working as a coal miner gave precious little food, but at least it was regular. Here in the experience mines, one was lucky to receive even a smidge of bread. Markus hadn¡¯t eaten for four days. His last meal was given to him by old man Chrom. The man made sure to feed those who needed whenever he could.

    ¡°Up and ready. Let¡¯s all make sure to get a good load today now.¡± Chrom whistled. ¡°Maybe earn us some bread yeah?¡± He smiled, patting as many workers as he could on the shoulder as they walked out the tin hut packed tin hut that sheltered them.

    They did not carry picks. Work was conducted by hand and a small hammer. The crystals grew in giant formations, sharp and bladelike. One had to break off bits of the crystal to gather it by hand. Though the shards were fragile, they were incredibly sharp. And shards too small were worthless.

    The hut lay at the base of the mountain, surrounded by a jagged metal fence. There were Masters here, but a few mid-tier Nobles policed the site as well. Rangers sat in the guard towers, their bows, a assortment of metal, gears, and wire, tracking the workers as they trudged out of their hovels, led into the small entrances of the mine.

    It was warm down here, for some reason. Hot even in places, drenching many of the workers in their sweat. Many crystals grew down here, obstructing the passageways with their jagged edges, making traversing the caverns difficult, often cutting the workers as they brushed past.

    And yet Chrom sang. His voice could be heard booming along the cavern, encouraging others, and singing about warm bread. Many workers would break down, giving themselves to death, but Chrom would be right there next to them, encouraging them onwards. He would not leave a man to die.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    Markus admired the man. Thanks to Chrom, he was able to focus. To focus on surviving, serving out his sentence, and reuniting with Fel. He remembered the day he had spoken with Chrom, and how he told him about his sister.

    ¡°She¡¯s silver haired.¡± Markus said as he faced Chrom, who listened with a keen ear.

    ¡°A rarity.¡± He smiled. ¡°That¡¯s normally a nobility trait.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what gave her trouble. The silver hair reminded the kids on the streets of nobles, so they bullied her. Course I made sure to pay ¡®em back in kind.¡± Markus said, reminiscing of the days in the Eastern Hearth.

    ¡°So you were Boroughs born?¡± Chrom asked, scratching his beard.

    ¡°Unfortunately. Didn¡¯t have the luxury of being a House Common.¡± Markus said, rubbing the deep cuts on his forearms. ¡°I was part of a street gang in the Eastern Hearth. Most Common kids were, but not Fel.¡±

    ¡°Your parents didn¡¯t stop you?¡±

    ¡°My mother tried, but I wasn¡¯t a real good kid.¡± Markus said, remembering the warmth of his mother¡¯s smile. ¡°My father was in the garrison. He was always gone, quelling rebellions and such. He had silver hair, like Fel.¡±

    ¡°So you were at the siege of the east I reckon.¡± Chrom asked.

    ¡°My gang was one the gangs involved in that whole thing.¡± Markus said. ¡°It started as a simple turf war for control of the Boroughs. My gang against another. It escalated when we started using Half-Borns. A lot of people died, and a few Nobles got caught up in the mix. Forced most the garrison to march on the Hearth to quell the riots.¡± Markus lifted a small cup of water to his lips. It was ice cold.

    ¡°Then the inquisition came.¡± Chrom said, turning to face the wall.

    Markus nodded.

    ¡°According to my gang mates at the time, all seven Fallen Hands entered the city, drawn by the Half Borns. But¡­¡±

    ¡°Even they couldn¡¯t stop them. Cause the rebellion made it¡¯s move.¡± Chrom said.

    Markus nodded again.

    ¡°The Hero of the Frosts. Rumor has it he entered the city with a rebel army near a thousand strong. They overwhelmed the garrison with Half Borns and traitor Nobles. According to my boss, he killed a Hand.¡±

    Chrom remained silent.

    ¡°Then¡­ the Supreme One made his move.¡±

    ¡°Did you see him?¡± Chrom asked.

    Markus shook his head.

    ¡°But I heard him. Sort of. It was like his voice was my thoughts, but loud, so loud I couldn¡¯t help but crawl into a ball. He said¡­¡± Markus paused. They were words he will never forget. ¡°Fools. I will show you why I am God.¡± The voice was powerful, but calm. Just like how someone who bears the title Supreme One should sound. ¡°He showed up in the morning, and by evening the rebellion and the Hero of Frosts were both dead. The city was brought under control, and the Hands went wild, burning the Boroughs and slaughtering indiscriminately. My mother was one of the victims. I¡­ found her body in front of a panel where Fel was hiding, tucked away with her books. It was¡­¡± Markus didn¡¯t even want to think about it.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry son.¡± Chrom said, tucking his knees into himself.

    ¡°Garrison combed through the remnants. Found us huddled together under a blanket. Put us to work in the coal mines.¡±

    Chrom smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder.

    ¡°Markus?¡± Chrom asked, looking up as the swirling snows fell. ¡°Why do you think the snow falls?¡±

    ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t it?¡± Markus asked back, confused by the question. ¡°That¡¯s just the way it is.¡±

    ¡°So you know nothing of the Pre-Frost?¡±

    Fel had told him about it before. He just wasn¡¯t interested in it, and only listened to her half heartedly to entertain her.

    ¡°The world used to be different.¡± The old man sighed. ¡°Fields of green grass, forests of towering trees. Deserts and plains. Cities of wood and stone. None of these cold, metal hovels we call home. It was cold sometimes, but sometimes it was blazing hot, like a forge but everywhere.¡±

    Markus regarded the man, watching as his eyes drifted elsewhere, to someplace he did not know, to some time he did not know.

    ¡°I have regrets, Markus. Regrets that I can never take back. No matter what I do. You¡¯re a good kid.¡± He smiled. For the first time since Markus had met him, he looked old. ¡°Back to work, I suppose.¡± He patted Markus on the shoulder, before disappearing back into the hovel.

    Markus thought of Fel. His only sister. Was she eating all right? Did Lord Chastings keep his word, or did he sell her off? No. He had to be lying. There was no such thing as an honest noble. At least, Markus never met one. He had to escape this place. He couldn¡¯t wait a year. He might live till the end of it. Already he had seen six others beaten to death. The Masters here were crueler than what he had known, but in a different way. Where his old Masters beat him for pleasure, these Masters, it seemed, beat for the sake of death. For the sake of killing, not power.

    He had to escape this place. And he had to find Fel. But the question was, how?

 Inquisition

    The Demon King has made his move. He is marching his army towards these lands, defeating every single adventurer party that has ever gone to face him. Even the ¡°Chosen¡± hero types die before him. He does not let anyone survive or escape, no matter what.

    I talked it over with Connor and Mariah. Connor suggests it¡¯s because it would reveal the secret to his power. According to Illyra, he should¡¯ve been defeated a while ago. A lot of the parties sent were more powerful than any Demon King of times past.

    And yet, the all died.

    A reckless party has prepared a bold move. To attack the Demon King head on, make him reveal his secret, and then run.

    That reckless party is none other than ours.

    <hr>

    Harris shook as he took a seat across from Inquisitor Harlan, the Fallen Hand looming beside him.

    ¡°Wine?¡± Harris asked with practiced calmness.

    ¡°Unfortunately, I must not.¡± Harlan declined. ¡°Not on the job.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps some for your¡­ friend?¡± He asked, gesturing to the Hand.

    ¡°Vizian does not partake¡­ in anything really.¡± Harlan said.

    Vizian just stared, making Harris shrink into his chair.

    ¡°What¡¯s this about a rebel?¡± Harris asked, trying to look concerned.

    ¡°One we¡¯ve been hunting for the past year. The Queen of the Boroughs.¡± Harlan said.

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard of her. She¡¯s the assassin for hire in the courts, isn¡¯t she? Why would she be working for the rebellion?¡±

    ¡°For the longest time we thought so too. We had her labeled a low born Noble selling her services to whatever house, no questions asked. That is, until we found out she was indeed a Half Born, who in evidently placed her hands into the remnants of the Hero¡¯s rebellion.¡±

    Harris raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°Dangerous mess. What happened out east. I lost a lot of business in the sector.¡±

    ¡°The boroughs there are still under martial law. One Hand and six inquisitors oversee the policing of that ruined Hearth.¡± Harlan sighed, rubbing his head in frustration.

    ¡°May I be of service in any way? My house is on its way up to higher nobility. Within the next generation, perhaps, we shall become a Great Household. We possess incredible resources.¡±

    ¡°Unfortunately, you are too kind again. House Farran has always been a loyal house, records indicating loyalty stretching as far back as the Early Frost. However, all manners of inquisition and dealings with rebellions fall upon our stead. The Order of the Fallen Hands.¡±

    ¡°So, what is it you need of me? Unfortunately, I had not heard of this rebel till now. And I doubt I¡¯d recognize her by sight alone. Perhaps I should question my servants. I have a sizable number of Commons in this household, if this rebel had appeared here, I guarantee one of them might have seen something.¡±

    ¡°That is why I have Vizian here today. We have come to personally interrogate the Commons of the household. They are natural liars you see¡­ and they require some incentive to speak truthfully.¡±

    Harris swallowed, his heart beating out of his chest. The Hands¡¯ reputation for interrogation, at its most mundane form usually involved a few missing fingers. They¡¯ll hurt Micah. Morgan. And everyone else.

    ¡°Personally, High Inquisitor, I¡¯d prefer if you not employ your usual interrogation methods. I have great pride in my Commons abilities and would not like to have them replaced if I could help it.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re just animals Lord Farran. I promise you full compensation for any damages done.¡± Harlan said without missing a beat. ¡°I swear on the Supreme One¡¯s name.¡±

    ¡°Witnessed.¡± Vizian growled, causing even Harlan to shiver a bit.

    Just animals. That¡¯s what the Commons were to them. Harris knew the doctrines of the Eternal Regency. He knew that Commons were not seen as men, that they were the work horses, the live stocks of the few chosen by the Supreme One. They were meant to be used and thrown away. Micah, his wife in everything but name alone, nothing by a tool. Morgan, a butler who was more a father to Harris than his own, nothing but a slave. And Elaine, his little girl, nothing but an abomination. His fear faded away, giving rise to deep, righteous anger that bellowed in his chest, threatening to burst out at any moment.

    ¡°If you must be so inclined.¡± Harris said, watching his words. ¡°My animals are integral to my specific system within this household. They are irreplaceable cogs in a machine that has contributed to House Farran¡¯s rise to power. To jeopardize that will not only sabotage my name, but the name of my household and my descendants. I would prefer you do not damage what is mine, lest I petion to my lordship, Great House Solas.¡±

    Damn arrogant Noble. Harlan thought.

    ¡°Descendants¡­ you have a daughter correct?¡± Harlan asked.

    ¡°Yes. That is correct.¡± He answered, his fear returning to him.

    ¡°Her mother?¡± Harlan asked, brow raised.

    ¡°My wife. From House River.¡± He said without missing a beat. ¡°She died when Elaine was born.¡±

    That wasn¡¯t a lie. Lady River had in fact died in childbirth. Only, that child wasn¡¯t Elaine. Both mother and son died that night, with Micah having Elaine a couple days later. The perfect cover up, the perfect coincidence, but all the while excellent for legitimizing Elaine.

    ¡°And yet the child was hidden from the world for two weeks, without an inquisitor nor your lordship to witness the birth.¡± Harlan said.

    ¡°I was in grieving. I loved my wife.¡± Harris said.

    Again, not a lie, he did love Micah. Lady River was just a political marriage.

    ¡°And yet, you, Harrison Farran, according to official record, were reprimanded in your teens for being to friendly with a housemaid your age.¡± Harlan smiled. The Hand did not seem to react, simply staring at Harris, the mask obscuring its eyes. If it had any.

    ¡°I was young. And volatile.¡± Harris said. ¡°You know teen boys.¡± His hands were shaking.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    ¡°Ah yes. It¡¯s common for lords to use their servants for their purposes.¡± Harlan said. ¡°As long as nothing comes of it, and provided that servant is sent to an Inquisition station monthly. Which your house servant was not.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t do anything with her.¡± Harris answered. This was a lie. ¡°My father broke it off before anything happened.¡±

    Harlan raised his brow again.

    ¡°This servant still works in this household, correct?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Harris felt a bead of sweat begin to form on his brow. ¡°Do you wish to question her?¡±

    As it so happened, Micah was watching the whole thing, peeking from behind the corner. And so was Merrill, perched above and behind a window. She was watching very carefully as to what would happen, and if she needed to intervene, if necessary.

    ¡°Yes. I would very much like to interview, if possible.¡± Harlan smiled. The Hand turned, apparently having already noticed Micah.

    Micah did not move. She just watched as the thing stared at her, unsure of what to do.

    ¡°Micah¡­¡± Harris called, as slow as he could. ¡°To me.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Lord Farran?¡± She entered, looking towards the floor.

    ¡°High Inquisitor Harlan would like to speak with you.¡±

    ¡°My lord.¡± She bowed before him, trying to ignore the glare of the Hand. It felt hot, physically hot when its eyes bore down on her, like the heat of a furnace, focused on her.

    ¡°It is regarding the Farran heir.¡± He said. ¡°Records indicate you were a midwife for her birth.¡±

    ¡°Yes, my lord.¡± She said, still looking downward.

    ¡°Look at me.¡± Harlan ordered.

    She met his eyes. They were cold and predatory. But at least he had them, unlike the masked thing next to him. How did the Hands even see out of those masks? She realized it did not have any eyeholes.

    ¡°Did you witness the birth of the heir from Lady Farran?¡±

    ¡°Yes my lord.¡±

    ¡°And did you confirm that it was Elaine Farran that was born, and no other?¡±

    ¡°Yes my lord.¡±

    ¡°And are you Lord Farran¡¯s mistress?¡±

    ¡°My lord?¡±

    ¡°Do not question me.¡±

    ¡°I believe she has answered your questions regarding Elaine, High Inquisitor.¡± Harris interjected.

    ¡°This is a manner of the inquisition Lord Farran. Lest you feel your nobility, a gift from the Supreme One, trumps his own noble purpose?¡±

    ¡°Now,¡­¡± He leaned forward, glaring right into Micah¡¯s eyes. ¡°Let me ask this again. Are you Lord Farran¡¯s mistress?¡±

    Elaine screamed, causing Harris to jump up. He met eyes with Micah for a moment. She nodded. Harris shot out of the room, running up the stairs to his daughter¡¯s room. There, Merrill held a knife to Elaine¡¯s neck.

    ¡°Elaine¡­¡± Harris drew his blade. Merrill winked at him. What the hell is she thinking? He thought, holding his small sword forward.

    ¡°And there she is.¡± High Inquistor Harlan said, strolling up behind Harris.

    ¡°Let her go.¡± Harris demanded.

    ¡°You damned Nobles.¡± Merrill laughed. ¡°I knew you¡¯d catch up to me eventually.¡± She smiled. ¡°Here¡¯s the deal. You let me out of here, or the girl gets it.¡±

    The Hand shoved his way into the room, twin iron maces in his hands.

    ¡°Dammit Harlan stop him! That¡¯s my daughter! My heir!¡±

    ¡°Vizian, halt!¡± He ordered.

    Vizian hesitated.

    Sorry kid¡­ Merrill whispered into her ear, before digging the knife lightly into her shoulder. Elaine screamed as it dug into her.

    ¡°Elaine!¡± Harris said, gritting his teeth. He was sure Merrill wouldn¡¯t actually do any real damage, but the way Elaine screamed was enough to stir his parental instincts.

    ¡°Vizian!¡± Harlan howled again.

    Vizian let out a sigh, steam pluming off him as he did so. He swung, aiming to smash through Elaine to kill Merrill. Luckily, Merrill expected it, and flipped out of the way, jumping backwards out the window.

    ¡°What in the Supreme One¡¯s name!¡± Harris yelled, swinging his blade at Vizian. Vizian reacted, blocking the weapon with a mace.

    ¡°What is one Noble girl to the Supreme One¡¯s eternity?¡± Vizian hissed.

    ¡°Vizian, withdraw!¡± Harlan ordered.

    ¡°I do not answer to you, High Inquisitor.¡± Vizian growled. ¡°I only obey the Supreme One.¡±

    Vizian kicked Harris, sending him flying against the wall. He then struck Harlan with his mace, smashing him onto the ground. He then rushed at the window at incredible speed, smashing through the glass as he plummeted into the snow below. He hit it with a massive plume of heat, melting away the snow, revealing the mud underneath. Vizian charged after Merrill, who was leaping away on rooftop.

    ¡°Elaine! Elaine!¡± Harris cried, jumping out the window after him. [Ranger¡¯s Recovery] He hit the ground below in a roll, running after the pursuing Hand. Damn you Merrill!

    Vizian matched her agility, jumping high into the air and crashing down beside her, the tiled roof shattering around him. He swung at Merrill. She reacted by tossing Elaine into the air, and narrowly snaking her way up and around the Hand¡¯s strike. She caught Elaine as she fell. The Hand attacked again, this time Merrill leapt backwards, the mace crashing on the tile below, causing the whole building to rumble.

    Merrill flash stepped across to another roof, the Hand following. It leapt several dozens of feet into the sky. It twisted in the air, two maces in its hands, before plummeting down, the tiles slipping under it as it crashed downwards, hitting Merrill with a surge of heat that pushed her backwards. She steadied herself, grabbing onto a jutting tile.

    The Hand charged, only for a blade to cut into its back, causing it to howl in pain.

    ¡°Leave my daughter alone! And you!¡± he pointed at Merrill. ¡°Let her go.¡± Vizian swung at him. He blocked, but the force of the strike rattled him, nearly shattering his blade.

    [Whirlwind] Harris danced, pirouetting like a deadly ballerina, spinning and striking the Hand in a flurry of strikes. Each cut caused heat to surge onto Harris, singeing him, but he pressed his attack. The Hand responded, swinging down with an overhead strike. Harris rolled, dodging the blow, but fell off due to the curve of the roof. He hit the ground below feet first, before face planting from the shock of the blow. He cursed, rolling to his feet.

    Merrill released Elaine, before attacking the Hand. She arched her back, sliding under an overhead swing and cutting into Vizian¡¯s leg. She then flipped over its head, slashing at its face as she did, landing behind it. It howled, wildly swinging at her. It was a near miss, but the handle still hit her, cracking her ribs as she rolled off the roof herself.

    She fell next to Harris, who was following on the streets.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Elaine?¡± He yelled at her, only for the Hand to come crashing down. Both he and Merrill rolled out of the way in opposite directions.

    The Hand swung at both at them at once. Both twirled out the way in coordination, cutting into the creature with their blades. The creature stumbled backwards, only to be met with Merrill¡¯s [Lethal Triangle], her duel daggers cutting into its neck, heart, and thigh. Harris pressed the attack, following with another Whirlwind flurry. His blade shattered as it glazed against its mask, the shards spraying everywhere.

    The Hand screeched as an incredible amount of steam burst from where it was cut, burning both Merrill¡¯s and Harris¡¯s skin red. Its howls matched the shriek of the steam exiting its body, masking the whole area in thick vapor.

    Merrill looked at Harris, saluted with two fingers, and flash stepped away. Harris cursed.

    ¡°Daddy!¡± Elaine called, her head peeking from the rooftop. She leapt down, casting [Ranger¡¯s Recovery] to minimize the blow, before tumbling and running towards her father, embracing him in a hug.

    High Inquisitor Harlan limped out from an alleyway, blood pouring from his head, coating half his face with a red streak.

    ¡°Are you all right Lord Farran?¡± Harlan asked, covering his throbbing wound.

    ¡°DAMN YOU!¡± The Hand shot out from the smoke, wrapping its gnarled hands around Harris¡¯s neck.

    [Superior Binding] [Calmness] Harlan casted, raising a hand forward. The Hand¡¯s grip wavered, but it did not let go.

    ¡°YOU COWARD!¡± The creature hissed.

    ¡°Submit abomination!¡± Harlan casted the same spells, forcing the creature to its knees. But still it squeezed. ¡°Oh! Supreme One. Give me aid!¡± Harlan cried.

    ¡°Vizian.¡± The Supreme One¡¯s voice echoed. Even Merrill, who was running towards the crew¡¯s rendezvous point, stopped to listen. ¡°Return to the Hearth.¡± The voice, calm and commanding, ordered.

    Vizian let go immediately, seemingly sinking down into the shadows, its massive form disappearing like mist.

    ¡°My sincere apologies Lord Farran.¡± Harlan said, bowing. ¡°Those creatures really are inhuman beasts. That damned Common, taking a girl hostage.¡± Harlan spat.

    ¡°Are you all right Elaine?¡± Harris said, crouching down to her level.

    She nodded, wiping away a tear. Already the wound had closed. A testament to the increased vitality of noble blood.

    ¡°High Inquisitor.¡± Harris said, rising to his feet, putting on a noble air. ¡°I intend to petition to Lady Solas about this offense. The damage to my heir, both physical and mental, by the actions of the inquisition are unforgivable. I intend to seek compentsation. Particularly given my house¡¯s high standing in the city, and a future of high nobility, this could have damaged my house¡¯s standing for years to come. What if the heir had been lost? What would the Supreme One say?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ understand.¡± Harlan nodded. ¡°I will speak with Lady Solas personally, who will bring this issue before the Supreme One.¡±

    ¡°I fully expect the inquisition to answer for questioning the legitimate nature of my heir and forcing me to speak of my deceased wife. And what to say about the insult towards my house servant. She¡¯s faithful and loyal, above and beyond the Common whore that you see her as.¡±

    Harlan only nodded respectfully.

    Harris sighed, wrapping an arm around Elaine.

    What a day.

 Qun

    We set off north today. Though the Demon King¡¯s army marches south, it¡¯s progress is slow. It will be about a couple hundred miles before we ever see the army.

    There are four of us. Including the usual party, Qun will accompany us as an observer. Apparently, a holy man always records the defeat of a Demon King. Even though this is just a hit and run mission, he apparently has faith in us.

    This is it. The culmination of five years in this world. Today I set out to save it. This the beginning of my hero¡¯s story.

    <hr>

    Chrom sat cross legged in the dark. It was the middle of the night, and a blizzard blazed outside. He breathed in and out, kindling the internal flame he held within him. He remembered the days before, when he, just a simple holy man, wandered the world, spreading the influence of the World Forge. He remembered what his purpose was, to kindle the flames and spread life across the world. It was a purpose that was now long gone. As he meditated, he fingered a small wooden artifact in his hand. It was relic, passed down World Forger to World Forger, a sort of gate way that connected one to the old gods. He managed to keep it hidden in the far corner, under his cot. He had spent several nights digging out a small hole there to hold this, and another small metal box he had stolen from the Masters.

    Chrom regarded Markus, who was sleeping a few feet away from him. The mine workers were packed closely together, their cots, no more than mats on the ground, packed so close together that one had to sleep sideways to avoid touching the person to your left and right. The boy was breathing irregularly and would cry out in his sleep. His ribs had been broken, so sleeping was painful for him.

    A few weeks ago, Markus had tried to instill rebellion. He was instantly silenced, the other prisoners turning on him and beating him. They were scared for their lives. It took all of Chrom¡¯s influence to convince them not to turn him in to the Masters. He tried again and again, each time the prisoners ignoring him, until he became white noise, no different from the howl of the blizzard outside.

    The men and women around him shook in their sleep. He felt guilty. The internal flame kept him quite warm, and yet others froze to death around him. Sometimes when it was really bad, he would project some heat on them in their sleep. It helped bring down the sleep deaths, but Chrom could not do it all the time. It was his duty to keep the flame lit and using it to warm others endangered it.

    Chrom tip toed over the people over to his hiding hole. He reached into it, pulling the metal box from it. He propped it open. It was filled with Experience crystals. He was careful, for they gave off a glimmer, a symbol of the energy they contained. Of course, no one knew what it was really, except the remnants of Chrom¡¯s sect, and the Supreme One. These crystals contained a absurd, primordial power that has it¡¯s origins in the ancient gods.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    Chrom knew. It was time. Honestly, he thought he would never try to escape. After the Hero of Frosts failure, he thought that the Supreme One was too powerful to oppose. And yet¡­ something compelled him onwards. A faint whisper, in the back of his mind, warm like the flame within him. It compelled him, telling him that he was must allow Markus to escape at all costs.

    Was the boy the one true hope of this world? Was he the true Hero of the Frosts? Or was he an instrument, a tool to compel the old gods will? Chrom did not know. The only thing he did know, was that he himself had a role to play.

    He took a handful of the crystals and ate them. He did this again, and again, and again, till he had finished them all. It had taken him nearly two years to smuggle this amount. High level Blessed can sense the crystals, so smuggling them was impossible, unless you did it one tiny shard at a time.

    He felt them in his belly. They mixed with his flame. It soared, burning so brightly within him it caused him great pain. And yet he endured it, for he needed their power.

    ¡°All right!¡± he bellowed, his voice several octanes deeper than usual. ¡°Wake up! Time¡¯s a wasting!¡±

    Everyone shot up, even Markus, who cringed in pain, his ribs aching. What they saw next awed them.

    Chrom forced the flame to burn the crystals up, surging him with energy. His body became lean and limber, his muscles bulging through his thin shirt. His hair, once gray, now had streaks of black flowing through it. And his smile no longer bore his trademarked yellow rotten teeth, but rather was glimmering white.

    ¡°Markus.¡± He said, his voice now that of a younger man. ¡°Take this.¡± He reached into the bottom of the box, pulling out a small leather bound book. ¡°Do not open it.¡± He said, his hair now flowing black.

    ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°A record of the Supreme One¡¯s ascension. I believe the pages will give some kind of clue to his secret.¡± He grabbed the boy by the shoulders, looking at him with his deep green eyes. ¡°The Supreme One was once a man. He can be beaten. You bring this book to a World Forger named Thaim. He will be able to read it. Find a way to stop him Markus. And bring back the green.¡±

    He turned from the boy and began to walk towards the door in youthful stride.

    ¡°Wait. Where are you going?¡±

    ¡°To pick a fight. Those Blessed won¡¯t even come close to expecting this. When dawn comes, make for the sleds. Follow where the sun rises. It will take you to the Eastern Hearth. The rest is up to you.¡±

    ¡°Chrom!¡± He called out to the man.

    The crowd split, in awe at the miraculous transformation of their leader. Just as he approached the door, he turned.

    ¡°My name is not Chrom.¡± He grinned, remembering the days of before. The days when there was no snow. ¡°It¡¯s Qun.¡±

    And so, he went out into the snow, leaving them there unsure of what had happened.

    <hr>

    Qun had told he was two hundred years old. We Blessed, although we maintain our youth much longer than a Common, usually had a normal lifespan. And Qun was not the oldest. The ancient elders that guarded the Sacred Flame were said to have been there when this world was created. The Flame sustains them. It is a source of infinite life.

 Part I Finale

    This world has a few rules. First, although on the surface, it resembles a litrpg, it is in fact, not one. Blessed are as powerful depending on how much experience they have within their bodies. This is quantifiable. Hence, levels.

    The ¡°System¡± is no more than the arrangement of the flames within them. The new gods figured out a way to modify the flames, making them more efficient, and maximizing their output and carrying capacity. This is class.

    There are no stats. Magical equipment does not exist. Bosses are simply mutated creatures that have ingested too much Experience.

    Holy Men are a sect that believe the System to be heresy. The flames must be used in their pure forms, unmodified. The new gods see it otherwise. They believe the System their greatest invention, that the old gods intended for the flames to be changed.

    The New Gods and the Holy Men are two sides of the same coin. They believe in spreading the influence of the flames. They just have different ideas on how to do it.

    <hr>

    Qun walked defiant through the blizzard. The snow melted around him in a wave of heat. Steam surged as he walked forward towards the Noble quarters. His clothing, mere rags, used to hang from his lanky form. Now they threatened to tear, his bulging muscles brimming under them.

    Qun smashed down the door, stepping into the quarters to the surprise of the Masters. He acted quickly, snatching one of their metals canes and using it to smash into a drunken Master¡¯s head. It caved in with a nasty crunch, the Master falling to the ground. He attacked again and again, smashing into two others before facing opposition.

    [Evasion] A Master casted, allowing him to see the attack before it was coming. Like a tiny window into the future, he knew where the strike would occur, allowing him to duck under it. But Qun was faster. The moment he missed, he flared his flame, enhancing his muscles. His second attack occurred almost immediately after the first; with lighting speed he smashed into the Master¡¯s face, causing it to explode in a shower of blood.

    Two new opponents burst into the Common area the Masters were sitting at, wondering what the commotion was. They froze for a moment, shocked at the sudden appearance of the absolute beast of a man, before drawing their blades.

    [Tracking] Qun sensed a surge of power directed at him. The flame within his opponent was that of a Ranger.. The Ranger would be able to know where he was, no matter how well he hid.

    [Wind Crest Strike] The other swordsman casted, his blade simmering green. He charged forward, swinging his blade. Qun parried, but the weapon slashed the rod in two.

    The Swordsman swung at Qun, forcing the World Forger to dodge. His reactions were quick, but another skill like that would be too fast for even he to track.

    The Ranger joined the onslaught, forcing Qun to flip backwards over the table, creating some space. The Ranger followed, sliding across the table and casting [Whirlwind]. He pirouetted, gashing Qun in the arms as he blocked.

    Qun grimaced, but the flames were already healing him. Qun flared, swinging with a lightning punch, but the Ranger evaded, docking low. In turn the World Forger drove a knee into his face, drawing blood and stunning him.

    [Howling Wind] the Swordsman casted, swinging upwards. His slash sent a vertical shockwave of air, which carved into the floor and ceiling, severing the table in half. It grazed the side of Qun¡¯s arm as he dodged.

    The Ranger and the Swordsman stood side by side, blades forward. This was going to be tough.

    They left the Capital quickly. In the commotion, Merrill had rejoined the others, loading into the carriage, and rushing out of the northern gate. They looped around eastward, towards the Eastern Hearth.

    ¡°The horses are so cute!¡± Milli exclaimed, sticking her head out the window, reaching for their fur.

    Wooly horses were massive work beasts, specially bred over thousands of years to withstand snowy conditions. One their adaptions, which gives them their names, is their thick white spiral fur that covered their whole bodies, keeping them warm even during a bad blizzard.

    Milli somehow managed to hang off the side of the carriage, reaching out and grabbing a handful of the fluff. She stroked it eagerly, till Merrill dragged her back inside.

    ¡°Ah! I wasn¡¯t done petting the horses Merrill.¡± She pouted.

    ¡°You can pet them later.¡±

    ¡°But I want to pet them now.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ you can¡¯t. We can¡¯t have the former Chastings heir hanging from a random supply carriage along the imperial highway.¡± Merrill scolded, tapping Milli on the head. It didn¡¯t stop the younger girl from pouting.

    ¡°This¡­ highway. I can barely see it underneath all the snow.¡± Illyra said, peering out the window. ¡°How is it that you navigate with the everything like this?¡±

    ¡°There.¡± Severus pointed. He was upfront driving the horses, a small window allowing him to communicate.

    On cue, two massive iron pillars appeared over the horizon. They stood dozens of feet tall, with eternal burning blue lamps propped on them to help people navigate at night.

    ¡°Waypoints.¡± Severus said as they zoomed in between them. ¡°They have them every mile. The lamps are different colors depending on the direction you¡¯re going. Yellow for capital. Blue for east.¡±

    ¡°Hey Severus.¡± Merrill called, peeking her head into the driver window. ¡°We¡¯re going to pass the Experience Mines on the way, east right?¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t recommend what you¡¯re thinking.¡± He said. ¡°That place is heavily guarded. They also always have a Hand stationed there. We¡¯ll see the mountain when we go past, but nothing more than that.¡±

    ¡°Just a peek? Just a little check?¡± she goaded, pouting like Milli was pouting earlier.

    ¡°If you want to fight another one of those things¡­¡±

    ¡°Actually, I¡¯m good thank you.¡± She said, shutting the little panel window. Severus seemed to say something, but no one inside could hear it.

    ¡°Okay goddess lady. Let¡¯s continue our interrogation.¡±

    ¡°Very well.¡± She said, turning expectantly towards Merrill.

    ¡°Where does Blessed power come from?¡±

    ¡°From my sect. We made designed the System.¡±

    ¡°And you gave it to the Supreme One?¡±

    ¡°We had no way of knowing he would rise as he did. We designed checks and balances in place to prevent any Blessed from accumulating so much power. In theory he should have been destroyed long ago by another prospecting Demon King.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean prospecting Demon King?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s only natural that the most powerful stands at the top. And it¡¯s only natural that most powerful ruled. Compared to common people, our Blessed ones are a pinnacle. They were made to guide the people, who should not be allowed to guide themselves.¡±

    ¡°I feel like you just said something really offensive.¡± Merrill said. ¡°Are you telling me that Commons were meant to be enslaved?¡±

    ¡°And why should they not? Human beings are fickle creatures that indulge in war and debauchery. Without guidance by an elite class, they were doomed of destroying themselves. So, that is why we brought the Blessed. They were all specially selected, those who possess knowledge beyond this world, in order to guide humanity away from the brink of destruction.¡±

    ¡°Are you telling me you intended for the Supreme One to happen?¡± Thrace said, leaning forward, angering fuming.

    ¡°Did you not hear me? He should¡¯ve been toppled long ago. Clearly, something went wrong.¡±

    ¡°So much for your perfect guidance system.¡± Merrill said.

    ¡°I never claimed perfection. There are a few¡­ hiccups. I doubt these claims that it is the same Demon King, as even Blessed had normal lifespans.¡±

    ¡°Listen here¡­¡± Thrace growled.

    Merrill stopped him with a open hand.

    ¡°Go on.¡±

    ¡°As I said. I will fully support you in toppling the Demon King. And establishing a new monarch.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s the catch?¡±

    ¡°No catch. Only for the System my sect founded to perpetuate. That is all.¡± She smiled, her golden eyes gleaming.

    ¡°You said before you can make us all as strong as the Supreme One.¡± Merrill said.

    ¡°Correct. Merely give me the Experience, and it will be done.¡±

    ¡°Is there any way to¡­ you know. Take away the power?¡±

    Illyra shook her head.

    ¡°Unfortunately, if what you¡¯re thinking is to simply sever the Demon King¡¯s power, I cannot. Not without dismantling the System, which I also cannot do, for various reasons beyond my control. Toppling him is no matter, even if he somehow reigned control over other Blessed, all they need to see is that he is not much stronger than them. I believe that is the key to victory.¡±

    ¡°And yet I question such a thing. Being strong is one thing. I was strong when I worked for the garrison. And yet¡­ no one opposed me. Not until the day I left.¡± Thrace said.

    Merrill nodded.

    ¡°No one challenges the Great Lords. They¡¯re so much more powerful than regular Nobles. And yet, the Great Lords¡­ I¡¯ve never heard of them challenging the Supreme One.¡± Merrill said.

    ¡°There are records I read.¡± Merrill said. ¡°Memoirs from ancient Great Lords. They feared him. The Supreme One.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a trick.¡± Illyra confirmed. ¡°This Supreme One is not the same Demon King. Perhaps he has set up a lineage somehow. It¡¯s impossible that he maintained this power for so long beyond his natural lifespan.¡±

    ¡°But the records¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a title. I assure you. I can sense the System within this Supreme One now. He¡¯s only level 100. I promise you that. Classless, like his ancestor.¡±

    ¡°Classless?¡± Merrill asked.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    ¡°Ah. It means¡­¡±

    ¡°I hate to interrupt.¡± Severus said, opening up the window panel. ¡°Big storm ahead it looks like. We going to stop boss?¡±

    ¡°No. Keep going. Wouldn¡¯t want anyone to catch up with us.¡± Merrill said. Severus nodded.

    The carriage plowed forward, diving head first into the swirling storm ahead.

    The Ranger finally fell after some effort. Qun huffed, waiting for his wounds to heal. The Ranger had cut his body up using Whirlwind, so he had to expend a good amount of flame. Already he was at half. His body sagged a bit, and small streaks of gray had appeared in his dark hair.

    But, most of the Masters and Nobles now laid dead. The Garrison troops were trivial, after all, they were only Common. Though they possessed a tiny bit of flame, which most lifeforms do, it was not enough to manifest.

    Qun stumbled out into the snow. Already the uprising had begun. The workers, following Qun¡¯s lead, attacked the garrison troops with hammers and sticks. Though many were cut down, the freedom fighters were relentless, there screams audible even over the howling storm.

    ¡°Chrom!¡± Markus appeared, bloodied spear in hand. ¡°Where were you?¡± He noticed that Qun did not possess the same glow as earlier. He was starting to look like his old self.

    ¡°The Nobles are dead.¡± He said as he strode, oblivious to the storm. ¡°I need more crystals. I need to replenish my flame.¡±

    The storage shed appeared ahead, lit by a small lantern. Markus kept in step with Qun, his spear ready.

    Qun sighed. He knew where the Hand was.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t follow me boy. The Hand is waiting for me in there.¡±

    ¡°A Fallen Hand?¡±

    Qun nodded.

    ¡°Hands are incredibly tough, even with a fully fueled flame. And I¡¯m at half. May I?¡± He reached his hand out. Markus placed his spear in it. ¡°I¡¯d run Markus. I don¡¯t know if I can defeat him.¡±

    ¡°Let me help.¡± Markus said.

    ¡°No. Go to your sister. Follow the yellow lanterns. They¡¯ll lead you out to the main road. When you reach it, follow the blue ones. They will take you to the Eastern Hearth.¡±

    ¡°But I¡­¡±

    ¡°Markus. If you stay, you¡¯ll die. This old man has lived too long already. Let him meet death himself.¡±

    ¡°Thank you Chrom.¡± Markus said. ¡°I¡¯ll¡­ get the book where it¡¯s needed.¡± Markus said, turning to run off. He disappeared into the snow.

    Qun sighed, slinging the spear over his shoulder. He flared his flame, forcing his muscles to bulge up once again. He tore his shirt off with his free hand, exposing his muscular chest. Qun pushed the shed door open, striding in defiantly.

    The Hand sat on a steel framed chair across the room. It grinned at him as he entered, closing the door behind him, the howling wind suddenly silenced.

    ¡°The Supreme One will want to hear about this.¡± Tellium hissed. ¡°A World Forger. A traitor to your sect.¡±

    ¡°You mean the sect that he enslaved? The sect that perverts my people¡¯s teachings, the sect that blanketed this world white. The Sect that caused the Issium to appear? The sect that made you abominations?¡±

    ¡°The Supreme One saved this world. Something you old Holy Men will never understand. The frosts stopped the march of the Issium. They would¡¯ve consumed the world.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s because that boy foolishly abused the World Forge. He used the flames for his own selfish ambitions, rather than follow the edicts of the ancient gods.¡±

    ¡°The Supreme One is god.¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Qun shook his head. ¡°He¡¯s just a foolish boy. A boy who couldn¡¯t cope with loss. A boy who let his own ego and power fantasies bring destruction to us all.¡±

    The Hand rose, drawing forth a longsword. Qun surged forward in bounds, driving the weapon into its chest. The Hand responded, stabbing the blade into Qun¡¯s heart. Both stood there for a moment, before drawing their weapons from each other¡¯s bodies. Both flared their flames, healing the mortal blows. The Hand grinned as his wound closed.

    ¡°Disgusting.¡± Qun stabbed the creature in its chest, neck, and face. Each time the wound closed due to the Hand surging.

    ¡°We are you¡¯re natural evolution, World Forger.¡± The Hand said, carving into Qun with its blade as they circled each other. ¡°The true World Forgers, remade in the Supreme One¡¯s image.¡±

    Qun drove the spear into its head, tearing off the mask, forcing a surge of heat to erupt from its wound. The gaping wound healed, revealing a grizzled burnt face, devoid of eyes or a nose. Steam surged from the orifices, spurred by the Hand¡¯s laughter.

    ¡°You are an abomination. This was not what the old gods wanted. You¡¯re something that should be dead yet isn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°And you are no different?¡± The Hand said, cutting into Qun¡¯s stomach, leaving the blade there. ¡°You¡¯re flame burns low, old one.¡± The skull said.

    Qun swung his fist, bashing into the creature¡¯s skull. It stumbled backwards, allowing Qun to pry the blade from himself. He hunched over, placing a hand to his wound to keep his insides from falling out. Already he looked haggard, most of his hair now gray, though he kept some musculature. The wound closed slowly, the flame within him straining as it faded.

    ¡°You¡¯re at your limit.¡± Tellium laughed, craning his skeletal face back. ¡°This is why we Fallen Hands are superior.¡± [Boisterious Blow] it lurched forward, driving a fist into Qun¡¯s chest, forcing him to his knees. ¡°When our flame runs low, we can still rely on the System. Something you World Forgers cannot.¡± It said, wrapping its bony hands around Qun¡¯s face.

    Qun¡¯s flame was an ember now, withering away as it struggled to heal the old man and keep him alive past his natural life span. His body looked even older then it has ever been. He was gaunt, and he shivered frightfully. Even his vision began to fail him, causing the world to become a blur.

    ¡°Ah. Such an old flame I sense within you. A shame. You should¡¯ve followed Agathe when you had a chance.¡± The creature took delight in watching the old man wither away into ash.

    Except, not yet.

    Qun called upon the last ember of his flame, surging strength through his body once last time. With everything he had, he drove his hand into the creature¡¯s chest, driving it straight through its body. The Hand howled, smashing a fist into Qun¡¯s head. He exploded into fiery ash, the rest of his body crumbling with him. All that was left was the rapidly fading arm still in Tellium¡¯s body.

    The Hand hunched over, coughing as it pulled the crumbling appendage from its body. It vomited steam and black blood as it stumbled, making way towards the stash of Experience at the other side of the room. It fell, its legs no longer working. It could feel itself turning into ash just like Qun. Its flame was almost dead. It dragged itself across the floor, reaching for the glowing wave of light it perceived in its vision. A vision that only saw energy and flames.

    Markus stood over the creature, having retrieve his spear from Qun¡¯s ashes. The creature turned over, noticing him. It cursed him as Markus drove the weapon down on its head. He stabbed again and again, making sure to twist the weapon as he drove it through the Hand¡¯s skull. Markus tore the head away from the body, raising it up in his spear. Already it was crumbling away. The body smoldered, bursting into flames as the creature died.

    ¡°Markus.¡± A voice whispered. ¡°You must leave.¡± It said. ¡°The Supreme One will have noticed the Hand¡¯s death. He will send the rest. You must go, now.¡±

    Markus rushed out into the open air. The blizzard had calmed down and was now a light snow fall. All around him the camp was chaos, drenched in blood and shattered steel. Garrison guards clashed with Commons rebels. Screams saturated the air as the rebels surrounded the guards, beating them to death with their weapons. There were no more Nobles left in the camp, so it was Common killing Common. They were fighting their equals.

    ¡°The Hands are coming! We have to go now!¡± Markus cried, trying to compel his fellow Commons, and yet no one listened. They were too busy relishing in their victory. They plundered and killed, taking vengeance over those who were their overlords.

    ¡°Run¡­ Markus¡­ Don¡¯t die here¡­¡± The voice was just a whisper now, softly speaking into his ear. He turned, squeezing through the metal gates that guarded the camp.

    He found the waypoint, spotting it far ahead. It glowed yellow, the lanterns blazing, hung upon the iron pillars. He made way between them, following them as they lead out into the road.

    The Hands appeared as soon as Markus left the camp, rising from the shadows of the ground. Six of them now, for one of their number was dead. They lined up at the center of the encampment, which had spiraled into chaos. Agathe was distinct, where the others wore only simple masks, he wore an elaborate helmet with jutting horns in the impression of a dragon.

    ¡°Find Tellium¡¯s killer. Wipe out everyone else.¡± He hissed, drawing forth a great spear from the shadows. The others drew their weapons, and set out to Commons, each armed with their weapons.

    Half an hour later, all of them were dead, their bodies butchered as was trademark of a Hand purge. The camp was rendered a graveyard, with bodies strewn here and there. Some Hands relished in their slaughter, cutting up the bodies already dead in the snow. Agathe smiled. Carnage did always bring him joy.

    ¡°Agathe.¡± Vizian said, approaching him.

    ¡°Did you find him?¡± Agathe asked.

    Vizian handed him a wooden artifact. ¡°Ah. Old Holy Man sigil.¡± He said. It brought back certain memories from a long time ago.

    The snow stopped. It didn¡¯t just stop falling. It seemed to freeze, the flakes hanging in mid air. Agathe turned, coming face to face with the Supreme One. He shot down quickly into a bow, the other Hands, taking notice themselves, bowed as well.

    He wore a long silver robe, hood over his head. Vestments hang on his shoulders, adorned with inscriptions of a long forgotten language. A silver cloak, matching his robes, trailed behind him. Upon each of his fingers he wore several large rings, and around his neck he wore a large pendant of steel in the shape of a thorny rose, a symbol of the Eternal Empire.

    He reached forward with his right hand, gesturing for the sigil Agathe still held in his hand. Agathe placed it into the Supreme One¡¯s, still bowing in reverence.

    The Supreme One ran his thumb over the thing. A simple wood carving.

    ¡°Qun.¡± He said. ¡°Was the body found?¡±

    ¡°Vizian found the symbol, Supreme One.¡± Agathe said, his voice soft and low.

    ¡°Speak Vizian.¡±

    ¡°I found it in ashes.¡± He said.

    ¡°Interesting. So, the old man finally croaked.¡± He said. ¡°One less annoyance in the grand scheme of things.¡±

    The Supreme One dropped the sigil into the snow and turned away. He seemed to mutter something to himself before speaking.

    ¡°Clean this place up. Get rid of all the bodies. Have Harlan summon forth another battalion, as well as some New Masters. Agathe, I want two Hands posted here from now on. And if anything suspicious occurs, summon me immediately.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Lord Supreme One.¡±

    ¡°I will summon the Great Lords. Return to the Hearth when you are done here.¡±

    The Supreme One simmered away in a flash of blue light. Only then did the snows start to fall again.

    <hr>

    Things were set into motion that day. With the old man dead, there¡¯s no one left to stop me. Illyra won¡¯t help the rebels. In fact, she¡¯d only be helping me by awakening some Commons. Now I just need to wait. Wait until the time is right once again. Then, I can make my move, and finish what I started.

    <hr>

    Markus walked alongside the highway road, tracing a path through several waypoints. He walked with his spear still in hand. He heard something coming up behind him. The sound of hooves crunching against the snow. Damn! He thought scrambling off the road trying to find a hiding spot. But the snow here was flat, no cover for miles.

    He ran anyways, trying to get as far off the road as possible.

    ¡°Look at this idiot.¡± Merrill laughed, watching as he stumbled through the snow ahead of them.

    ¡°Should we stop him? Could be a spy¡­¡± Thrace said.

    ¡°He knows there¡¯s nothing in that direction, right?¡± Milli said.

    Something pulled at Illyra. Like a will, so weak, yet so determined to catch her attention. Just a small tug in the back of her mind. The tug of someone she had long forgotten about.

    ¡®Stop him.¡± Illyra said.

    ¡°What? Why?¡± Merrill asked.

    ¡°Just do it. Hurry, before he gets away.¡±

    ¡°Fine.¡± Merrill slid open the glass window and flipped herself over on the roof of the carriage, holding herself there with one hand. [Flash Step] she leapt forward, gliding along the snow. She did it a couple more times before finally catching up to him. He tried to attack with his weapon, but Merrill just tackled him, pinning him to the ground.

    Noble. Damn it. So Close. So close to escaping. Sorry Fel.

    Severus stopped the carriage, turning it back towards them. Markus screamed and struggled, fighting to free himself from the woman¡¯s grip, but she was too strong.

    ¡°Feisty one huh?¡± Merrill said. She sat on his back, waving to the carriage with a free hand.

    ¡°Shut up Noble. I don¡¯t want to hear from you.¡± He answered.

    ¡°What¡¯s that? Can¡¯t hear you with your face in the snow.¡±

    She pressed his head down into it. He tried to protest to no avail. Merrill searched him. She was a Rogue after all, taking the small leather bound book from him.

    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± She asked, flipping through it. ¡°It¡¯s just gibberish¡­¡±

    She sighed. She was hoping for something a little more interesting. She just tucked it into her pocket.

    ¡°Give that back. That doesn¡¯t belong to you.¡± He said.

    ¡°Finders keepers.¡± She answered.

    ¡°Who¡¯s this?¡± Severus asked, hopping off the carriage.

    Illyra shot out, approaching the boy. She looked down where Merrill was holding him.

    ¡°He¡¯s just a Common.¡± Merrill said. ¡°Don¡¯t understand what¡¯s he¡¯s doing out here though.¡±

    ¡°Did you find anything on him?¡± Illyra asked.

    ¡°Just this book.¡± She said, tossing it to the woman.

    She flipped it open, perusing its contents. ¡°This is¡­ boy. Where did you get this?¡±

    ¡°Like I¡­¡± He looked at her, mesmerized by her golden eyes. ¡°From a friend.¡±

    ¡°Does the name Qun mean anything to you?¡±

    ¡°Are you Thaim?¡±

    Merrill turned to the boy in surprise.

    ¡°This is important. Perhaps the most important thing to us right now.¡±

    ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a record of the Supreme One¡¯s ascension, written in the old tongue.¡± She said. ¡°But it¡¯s encoded. I can read the language, but it¡¯s not coherent.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m suppose to bring it to Thaim.¡± Markus said. ¡°Chrom told me too.¡±

    Illyra frowned.

    Illyra you heretic. In the off chance you get this damn notebook, I had it encrypted. Only a true World Forger can decipher it. Yours, Qun.

    ¡°Damned man.¡± She said, lip curling in frustration.

    ¡°Chrom was a rebel who worked with the Hero of Frosts.¡± Thrace said. ¡°I fought him once. Powerful man.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s dead.¡± Markus said. ¡°A Hand killed him. But not before he hurt it, badly. It¡¯s dead.¡±

    ¡°I hate to alarm anyone.¡± Severus said. ¡°But the storm is picking up again. We best move on.¡±

    ¡°Thrace. Load the kid into the carriage. We¡¯ll figure out what to do with him later, but best not to leave him out here.¡±

    Thrace nodded, picking up a protesting Markus and flinging him over his shoulder. They each loaded into the carriage as the storm howled once more, riding away eastward.

    END of Part I

 Part II

    Connor is who I would describe as the perfect hero. He has no interest in ambition or power. He¡¯s good with people, especially children, and he¡¯s naturally well liked. He¡¯s a very relaxed type of guy who doesn¡¯t let anyone get under his skin. He¡¯s a natural leader and a stategist at heart, he knows how to utilize his skills and abilities to the fullest.

    I¡¯m none of those things. Even coming to this world, I¡¯m as antisocial and awkward as ever. Sure the power fantasy has made me more confident, but when dealing with peers and not Commons, I find myself stuttering over my words. I act on impulse, and I¡¯m usually wrong when I strategize, and people are still naturally inclined to ignore me.

    I¡¯m jealous. I try to tell myself it¡¯s fine, but I just wish I was normal. Just enough that I could make friends as easily as Connor.

    And yet, he¡¯s my friend anyway.

    <hr>

    Tyrannus Maximus sat on the Eternal Throne. The metal roses, responding to their master, twisted and curled around him. Agathe stood to his the right of the throne, watching over the Great Lords as they entered, and Thaim stood to his left, notepad in hand, ready to scribble down notes from the meeting.

    Thaim watched as the Great Lords entered. It had been about three years since all of them were summoned in such a matter, the last being during the Hero of Frosts rebellion. Thaim lamented to himself. He had heard that Archivists in the past had gone their whole life times never having seen all the Great Lords in a room once. Thaim had seen them assemble like theis four times already in his tenure.

    Agathe watched with his dragon mask, scanning the room, spear in hand. As was characteristic of Hands, he did not show any emotion. He simply loomed, an ever watchful eye.

    ¡°Supreme One.¡± The eldest in the room, Lord Chastings bowed before the throne. He wore a prim black suit, fur coat over his shoulders, with a small cane in his hand.

    The other Great Lords, having taken notice, stepped forward, bowing and acknowledging him the same.

    ¡°House Chastings. House Tyrene. House Mosul. House Morganna, Aramere and Solas.¡± The Supreme One acknowledged, tapping his rings against the throne as he counted them. ¡°Where is Lady Kestings? Edward Chastings.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Supreme One.¡± The old man answered.

    ¡°Where is your sister house?¡±

    The great iron doors creaked opened. In them, a woman appeared. She had blonde hair, and wore a red and black noble¡¯s woman¡¯s dress, long white fur coat trailing behind her. She walked forward on heels, her stride confident, ignoring the glares of the other Great Lords as she stepped before the throne, bowing.

    ¡°Supreme One.¡± She said. ¡°House Kestings has come to your summons.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡± Tyrannus leaned back, tapping his fingers against a metal rose. ¡°Why is it that you see fit to be late to my summons, Lady Charlan Kestings?¡±

    ¡°I meant no insult Supreme One.¡± She said, her demeanor as smooth as ice. ¡°I had run over a Common boy. Made a mess of my carriage. You know how they are.¡±

    ¡°No. I do not.¡± The Supreme One said. ¡°I don¡¯t understand those rats out there at all. I give them this, a home amongst the frozen wastes, and yet they see fit to rebel against me.¡± The Supreme One lifted his head, allowing his cold eyes to peer out from under his hood. ¡°Which is why I assemble you here today. House Chastings and Kestings, I had charged both of your noble house¡¯s with the policing of my eastern domain.¡±Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    ¡°Yes, Supreme One.¡± They said in unison.

    ¡°And yet the pests remain. The echoes of the rebellion.¡± He said, shutting his fist. The air seemed to grow heavy as he did so. It was much harder to breath, at least for Thaim.

    ¡°Do you both remember what I did to your former master Houses, Aveline and Callmore?¡±

    ¡°You destroyed them Supreme One.¡± Lady Kestings replied. ¡°For failing you.¡±

    ¡°Let it be known. Though I am a benevolent ruler, those who fail me will meet a similar fate. The inquisition hunts this half-Common, the one who has the audacity to name herself Queen of the Boroughs. My keep was broken into, causing me to lose a precious toy of my mine.¡± Thaim swallowed, a bead of sweat dripping down the side of his head. ¡°One of my Hand¡¯s is dead, and my Experience Mines are empty of workers. Whose fault is this?¡±

    ¡°Our own, Supreme One.¡± All the Great Lords said.

    ¡°Indeed. You all have failed me.¡± He said, his voice shaking the throne room. ¡°But, worry not. For a light has come in the darkness. An old enemy of mine is dead. It puts me in a good mood, enough that I don¡¯t exact my rage on the domains I have so graciously given you. However, I fear his death was not without reason. I do not believe after all these years he would have allowed himself to die like this. His death is connected to remnants of that heretical rebellion. Kestings, Chastings.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Supreme One.¡±

    ¡°The mines are nearest to you. We have reason to believe radical elements are hiding within the east. I am tasking both of you with weeding out any sign of dissent. Of course, Agathe here will help you. You will have the full power of my Hand.¡±

    Agathe bowed.

    ¡°I task the rest of you with being vigilant. Any sign of rebellion within your house will no longer be handled on local level. Every act of discipline, no matter how minor, shall be conducted by the Inquisition. I shall disperse multiple delegates to each of your respective domains, as well as assign a High Inquisitor to each of your households.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Supreme One.¡± They echoed.

    ¡°Very well. You lords are dismissed. We shall meet again tonight to discuss these manners further.¡± He said.

    With that they left the chambers, leaving only Thaim and Agathe.

    ¡°Supreme One.¡± Agathe said, kneeling. ¡°I¡­¡±

    ¡°Agathe. You have been my Hand for two thousand years. Not once did you ever dissent me or try to overthrow me. You are not like those great lords over there. You have seen them try to rise up against me, you¡¯ve seen them try to accumulate their own power, to break free from my domain.¡±

    ¡°And you crush them every single time.¡± Agathe answered. ¡°For you are god.¡±

    ¡°I am.¡± Tyrannus said, leaning back in his throne, the metal roses curling around his body. ¡°Agathe. I leave all manners of inquisition to you. Find this woman and do what must be done. You understand, don¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Supreme One. It is all according to your plan.¡±

    ¡°Then go. Make the preparations. Perhaps make the preparations for the creation of a new Hand.¡±

    ¡°Supreme One.¡± Agathe hissed.

    ¡°Speak.¡± He said.

    ¡°Perhaps it best we bolster our force. Seven is not enough to monitor the whole empire for heretics. Let us double, no triple the number of Hands, that way we can police the state more effectively.¡±

    ¡°No. You will make only one more, and that¡¯s final.¡± The Supreme One said.

    ¡°As you wish.¡± Agathe said.

    Thaim watched with a curious expression, scribbling down every line of dialogue with a trained hand. As the Grand Archivist, it was his job to record everything said before the Eternal Throne. It had been that way since the Supreme¡¯s One¡¯s rise to power. A record of everything since the very beginning.

    ¡°I tire of this. I already use the Flame once this year, but I did not expect the death of the old man.¡± The Supreme One sighed, leaning back on his throne.

    Thaim paused. Master Qun is dead? He held back his sadness. Qun had trained him for this, ever since he was first selected as an Archivist candidate. He wrote down the Supreme One¡¯s words.

    ¡°Now I must wait for the next Deep Winter before I can use the power again. Agathe, that¡¯s your time limit. Destroy the rebels before I can use the power again. It will be dangerous to have a rogue element loose when I activate it.¡±

    ¡°As you wish Supreme One.¡±

    The power¡­ what was it? Thaim knew. It was the World Forge. Qun had taught him since he was boy that the Supreme One abused the World Forge¡¯s power. He was using the flame to hold the world hostage in ice in order to consolidate his power.

    ¡°Thaim.¡± Tyrannus said.

    ¡°Yes Supreme One?¡±

    ¡°Attend to the Great Lords. They should be in the ballroom hall. Record any propositions they may have.¡±

    ¡°As you wish Supreme One.¡±

    The Supreme One nodded, getting up. He snapped his fingers, disappearing in a blue mist. The throne, absent of its master, froze in place, now a sculpture of metal.

    Agathe turned to Thaim, grinning as always, not saying a word. He then faded into his shadow, leaving Thaim alone in the throne room.

 Nobility

    The divide between Blessed and Common expands every new generation of reincarnated. The Commons give us quests, and we go out and fight their wars. One day I hope to close the gap, to bring equality to this world. It¡¯s a dream that unites our party, Mariah, Connor, and Qun.

    <hr>

    Charlan Kestings was a woman of impeccable bearing and composure. It showed in her demeanor, cold as icy blue eyes. It showed in her clothing, the fashionable woman¡¯s dress made of white dire wolf pelts. It showed in the way she walked, always carrying herself with the highest level of discipline and grace as she strode across the Capital Hearth¡¯s ballroom, causing even Great Lords to split apart as she walked through them. She was a woman of ambition and resolve, and it showed by how aggressively she approached the Elder Lord Chastings.

    ¡°My lord.¡± She bowed her head to the elder.

    ¡°Charlan.¡± The old man greeted, his own expression as cold as hers.

    To his right side stood a younger man with the same face, his blonde hair combed back, a common style for nobility. The younger man looked at Charlan, and greeted her with a brief warmth, causing even her composure to break a bit. To his right stood a young girl, dressed in a black and white maid¡¯s outfit, her hair cut into a neat bob, short but matching to her round face. She held a ledger to her side, which she was writing into just before Charlan had approached.

    ¡°Oh how cute.¡± She said, regarding the young servant. She approached her, placing her hand under Fel¡¯s chin to get a better look at her face. ¡°Silver hair with a doll like face. Must have some nobility in her heritage. Very risky Lord Chastings, where did you find this one?¡± Fel squirmed, trying to hide her discomfort, all while trying to maintain an air of respect towards Charlan.

    ¡°What do you want Charlan?¡± Elder Chastings asked, voice firm.

    ¡°I wish to discuss the Supreme One¡¯s plan with you is all.¡± Charlan frowned, letting go of Fel, who quickly retreated to Elder Chastings¡¯s side.

    ¡°And what of it? I intend to bolster patrols as well as curfew. Is there anything else you¡¯d like to add to that?¡±

    Charlan grit her teeth in anger. The Elder sees himself as superior to her simply because of his age, even though their status as Great Houses should have made them equal. She regained compsure, smiling softly at the elder.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    ¡°No. Although I would propose postings Rangers to help track rebels down.¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± Elder Chastings nodded. ¡°But that is a manner I will discuss another time.¡±

    ¡°My Lord.¡± Fel interrupted.

    ¡°Not very well trained this pup. To speak up when the Great Lords are talking¡­¡± Charlan said.

    Elder Chastings raised his hand to stop Charlan¡¯s anger.

    ¡°It is time?¡±

    Fel nodded meekly.

    ¡°I will have to relieve you all. I have manners to attend to. If you wish to speak on this, my son here will happily here you out. Good day Charlan.¡± Elder Chastings turned and walked away towards the exit, Fel following close behind, brushing past Thaim as he entered ballroom. He bowed to the girl, who bowed back, before catching up to Lord Chastings.

    ¡°Care to dance, Lady Kestings?¡± The younger Chastings asked.

    ¡°But of course, Lord Chastings.¡±

    The two approached the ballroom floor. Though musicians played, the Great Lords contented themselves to the side lines, discussing policy and the like, leaving the circular dance floor empty. Obadiah Chastings and Charlan Kestings took to the floor in stride, twisting together in a waltz.

    ¡°Your father undermines us as always.¡± Charlan whispered to him.

    ¡°As he always does. My father is weak. He clings to that servant girl. I suppose to make up for my runaway daughter.¡± Obadiah said.

    ¡°Our plan is coming into fruition.¡± Charlan said. ¡°Obadiah, do you know how long it took me to climb this ladder? How long my family has fought?¡±

    ¡°I am well aware. You Kestings are descendants of the First Rebel. Which is why the Supreme One made your house a Master¡¯s house for the longest time.¡±

    ¡°And finally, after two thousand years, I stand as it¡¯s First Great Lady. And yet, I am not done.¡±

    ¡°Your ancestor¡¯s dying edict.¡± Obadiah nodded.

    ¡°I want the throne.¡± She said as she leaned in, so quiet Obadiah could barely hear. ¡°And you¡¯re father is the second to the last obstacle to that. I have several investments into the every other Great House, The Kestings household holds more power than the Supreme One cares to realize. But your father, he refuses to do business with me. I think he sees what I¡¯m trying to do.¡±

    ¡°But there¡¯s one thing he hasn¡¯t considered. Me.¡± Obadiah smiled warmly, Kestings returning it, finally breaking her composure. ¡°Us.¡± He reaffirmed.

    They spun and flourished, taking over the dance hall with wonderous grace and poise.

    ¡°Once I inherit the household, we can unite our houses.¡± Obadiah said, leaning down to kiss her hand.

    ¡°And with that, we¡¯d control the Eternal Empire. It doesn¡¯t matter how powerful the Supreme One is if his subjects will not follow.¡±

    ¡°The key to his downfall will be the Chastings household.¡±

    Obadiah smiled at her again, before dismissing himself, walking towards the drink table. Charlan regained her composure, and strode towards a gathering of houses Morganna, Solas, and Aramere, all of which were allied with her.

    Thaim thought that entire conversation was very interesting. He had flared the Flame towards his ears, enhancing his hearing. The Chastings household was key. He needed to get this to Merrill as soon as possible.