As darkness falls on Deshawn City, another corpse collapses into a heap at my feet. Blood begins to pool upon the cobblestones, slim crimson tendrils spreading outward. I flick my tongue out and savor the new strength flowing into my body. This one was a Robeur Knight. Baiting him took no more than letting the wretch catch a glimpse of me. Dispatching the wretch was easier still. A small army was not enough to bring me down, one could a single knight hope to do?
And the influx of strength abruptly stops, like a tankard that had been drained dry. Its not enough. Its nowhere near enough.
I won't be able to save Mary at this rate.
Caution has always been my watchword. My chosen prey had been the unwanted, the trash of humanity. Breaking that rule was what got me into this mess in the first place. But time is running out. I can't let Mary keep suffering.
There are those who take pleasure from the deaths and pain of others. I am nothing like that, despite what the lurid tales of the Midnight Stabber may say. I do this because of my gift, the first thing that made me realize that I've always been different from everyone else around me.
I grow more powerful whenever I kill.
The Gods might not have blessed me with any particular genius, but as long as I kill enough, there in no opponent that I cannot overcome. My strength increases without limit, as long as lives are fed to the pyre. But previous experience tells me that I am nowhere near the level of the King of the Mountain. Challenging him again would just lead to the same outcome. Defeat.
There is a path to victory though. I just need to be bold enough to grasp it.
Shutting my eyes, I let my mind drift back to all the places I have been before. A dull fog begins to smother my senses, and my wandering thoughts solidify, forming an eternally cycling collage of portraits, representing various places.
The Wandering Mountain.
No, there's nothing for me there.
Springvale.
Not when Mary is still captive.
Deshawn City.
I'm standing here right now.
Southmarsh.
Yes. That's where I last sensed him.
I focus doggedly on the portrait of Southmarsh, and a floating sensation overcomes my entire body. Another one of my gifts. As long as I am undisturbed, I can travel without needing to physically cross the distance. There are limitations to this gift of course, just like everything else. I can only travel like this to a location that has been previously visited. And only certain places can exert this mystical pull on me. The entrance of a town for instance. Or an important landmark.
Appearing at the entrance of Southmarsh now would be foolishness. He would know I've arrived. And I have no intention of giving him the opportunity to get prepared.
Thankfully there's a landmark close by that suits my purposes just fine.
The heavy scent of mud and swamp gas assaults my nostrils, telling me that I've arrived. The splash of my boots sinking into the soft mud is just further confirmation.
"Couldn't stay away, couldn't you?" a mocking voice greets.
"Lady Sylvia." I open my eyes once more, gazing upon the young lady seated upon a throne made out of heavy boulders, "I am merely passing through this time."
"Really?" Lady Sylvia arches her brow as she plays with her shoulder length auburn hair, "And I thought you had finally came round to my way of seeing things."
Sighing inwardly, I take a look at the sanctuary that I had rudely intruded upon. Both of us are in the middle of a swamp, exposed to the night sky. Lady Sylvia leans against a cupped hand, regarding me with mild amusement, the evening gown she wears a stark contrast to the filth surrounding both of us. Not a single stain mars her clothes or skin as she shifts her body on the stone throne and kicks idly at the unconscious men huddled by her feet. An insensate moan tinged with pain comes from one of the men and Lady Sylvia decides to use him as a footrest.
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Between us is a large pit, with fire bursting out from within like a geyser. Embers are sent flying about in every direction like fireflies, blazing in the gloom before dying out in silence. The trees around us jerk their branches spasmodically, extending and retracting as if they were made out of rubber. The shadows extending across the ground flicker in and out of existence.
"Your sanctuary has grown again." I comment, taking in the halo of crates hovering around the apex of the flame geyser, "I count five more crates this time around."
"Are you not going to kneel, Mac Nair?" Lady Sylvia asks with a friendly smile.
"My apologies," I get on one knee in the style of a knight before his master, "Greetings Lady Sylvia, angel from the heavens."
"Rise." she says graciously, "If you are not here to join me, then what is your purpose?"
"I am here for Mary's sake." I get back to my feet, "No more and no less."
"This again." Lady Sylvia clicks her tongue, "You can't beat the King of the Mountain, not without my help."
"I don't believe that." I rebut Sylvia's claim, "I just need more time to prepare."
"You mean more victims to grind?" my host grins mirthlessly, "And I've told you already, it will never be enough. Grinding cannot make up for the difference between the two of you."
"How would you know that?" I refuse to accept Lady Sylvia's prognosis.
"I'm an angel from heaven." she settles back on the throne, "It is my nature to know such things."
"Indeed." I nod, looking at the tree branches as they jerk about aimlessly, "Yet you still needed the Sage's help to establish this sanctuary."
"SAGE needs me, not the other way around." Lady Sylvia sneers imperiously, pointing at the geyser, "Only an angel can manipulate the stack. Claiming this sanctuary as my own is a fair price for such labor."
"Yet you bar the Sage from visiting you here." I observe, "Hiding something from him?"
"A lady is entitled to her secrets." Sylvia smiles knowingly at me, "Entrance here is by invitation only."
"I am honored." I reply, saluting with a fist over my heart, "But why not cooperate with the Sage? He got in contact with me again and I'm sure he would have been looking for you."
"Why aren't you cooperating with it?" Lady Sylvia shoots back.
"The Sage isn't interested in saving Mary," I sigh dispiritedly, "He's too concerned with his own ideals for this world. Sage even said Mary was a person who didn't matter."
"That's where you're wrong." Lady Sylvia smirks, "SAGE's ideals have nothing to do with this world. SAGE wants nothing less than to touch heaven. Even if it destroys the world in the process."
"We would all be free of slavery in heaven." I rub my chin restlessly, "That's what the Sage said."
"Hah!" Lady Sylvia throws her head back in laughter, "Why do you think I'm here, Nair? Heaven is a hundred times worse than what this world has to offer. That's why we have to save the world, not indulge in SAGE's lunacy."
"That doesn't sound right at all." I shake my head, "I never got the impression that the Sage wanted us to suffer."
"SAGE has never experienced heaven. It merely assumes salvation exists there." Lady Sylvia crosses her long legs as she lectures me, "But make no mistake, paradise is right in this world. We can only achieve our happiness here, not by running away."
A loud furious scream, reminding me of a woman giving birth, interrupts our conversation. Lady Sylvia crooks her neck before shrugging indifferently.
"The Farmer is acting up again." she says, "Pay it no mind, Nair."
"You're still helping the Sage propitiate Hackal." I grimace, pointing out the hypocrisy of Sylvia's words.
"SAGE wants EA weakened." Lady Sylvia plays with the bangles on her slim wrists, "That assists me as well."
"Well, I have to be going." I respond, impatient to begin my mission, "With your leave, Lady Sylvia."
"The offer is still on the table, Mac Nair." Lady Sylvia dismisses me with a wave of her hand, "Return to me once you have come to your senses."
I turn away as the trees begin wrenching themselves to the side, opening up a path through the swamp. The sanctuary might not look like much, but its more secure than the mightiest fortress. I had no idea what to make of Lady Sylvia's boast to be an angel, but her sorcery is without a doubt powerful. Anything or anyone here without her permission would die.
A low hiss catches my attention as a viper coils itself around one of the trees, its eyes flashing with cold light. The viper's mouth opens, leering obscenely, invitingly, at me. Promising what I need the most.
Power.
Swallowing hard, I look squarely down at the ground and hasten my footsteps. Letting myself disappear into the gloom.
...............
Addendum - Compiling and Sledding
Modern anti tamper countermeasures ... variety of means including memory address randomization and executable space protection to prevent ...
However, as a compiler requires direct access to memory and needs to be executed at runtime, a compiler can be used to generate exploit code ...
... the practice of Sledding, where exploit code seeks to create a stack overflow, forcing the system to overwrite parts of its memory buffer ...
... common of exploit code that can evade countermeasure detection include operations that do not compromise the core system, but nevertheless manifest as graphical glitches, such as flickering shadows, floating objects and polygon tearing ...
... loading new instructions into the overwritten buffer, causing the system to execute the amended directives, eventually providing access to the shellcode ...