On their way back to Emma, just before arriving at New York City Daz had finally decided to use his Survivor's Instinct's Future Vision to see if he could discern exactly why the power didn't want him spending a majority of his enormous wealth.
He hadn't had a chance thus far. Initially, Daz had planned to do this on the way to New York from El Dorado but he had gotten side-tracked by the situation in Las Vegas.
In his mind, now was as good a time as any to see if he could shed any light on the peculiar situation.
Mu hardly minded the delay. In fact, he'd decided to go to sleep, taking advantage of the car's extreme comfort to pay a rare visit to his dreamscape.
The Death Reaper was a much larger offender than Daz when it came to skipping on sleep since he had so much to reflect over as opposed to simply learning from his dreamscape tutor, but he felt now would be as good as time as any what with how luxurious his seating was.
Daz closed his eyes and breathed out deeply, then in slowly. Repeating that several times, he cleared his mind and tried to think only of his merit points and when he would need to spend them in bulk.
What was the mysterious reason behind his instincts begging him to not spend them on improving himself vastly or contributing them all to his kingdom?
His consciousness faded as he felt every ounce of his internal energy swirl and pool into his eyes, though when he snapped them open, only the right one shined with a golden splendour.
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"Hmm... 14 unauthorised [.....], 4 instances of contacting [.....] not of the [.....], 9 unauthorised alterations of a [.....], 4,003,211 unsanctioned cases of the [.....]... I could go on and on."
"... [.....]."
"The system and what it allows does not reflect [.....]. I'll have to add an instance of [.....] to your charges, [.....]."
"... [.....]?"
"Hmm? Oh. Rather quick on the uptake. Very good. Your total [.....] merit stars. That's actually a [.....] for a [.....]. Congratulations."
"Subsection-CA32 Article-73,210 of the [.....] taxations and [.....]."
"I beg your [.....]?"
"Need I do [.....]? [.....]. We get a [.....]. We also get a [.....]."
"That still [.....]. [.....], a down-[.....]. Otherwise, I must [.....]."
"15,121,620,011,556 merit stars [.....]? [.....]. [.....]."
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The golden glow faded from Daz's right eye as sweat poured out of his body. He panted heavily while he grasped his throbbing head.
"That... That was way worse than last time..." Daz frowned deeply as he fought through the pain.
His body felt like it was on fire as his veins bulged under the surface of his skin. He'd suffered through extreme physical pain before and this wasn't the hardest thing to deal with right now, no, that belonged to the confusion Daz was experiencing.
"How far in the future was that? Why couldn't I see anything, only hear? That was definitely my voice at the very end... Is that how much money I need? That's insane!" Daz felt more confused than before he had used Future Vision.
The only logical conclusion he could come to was that he had far too little internal energy and - if it was relevant - far too little information about why his instincts warned him against spending his money.
If he truly needed over 15-trillion merit stars at some point in the distant future then it was no surprise that his instinct so dearly did not want him to waste his money when possible.
"The voice who recited that subsection and article stuff... Who was that? The voice felt familiar, but I can't place it..." Daz felt like he knew the voice's owner but he just couldn't put a face to it.
"Damn it. I need to practice this ability a lot more. I had no idea it could get fuzzy and even fail to show me a visual representation of what was happening... Still, while I didn't learn much about why I need the money, I did learn how much I needed," Daz muttered optimistically.
With a goal of a little over 15-trillion, if Daz did nothing and solely relied on his bank interest then it would take him years to accrue such a sum.
If it was only in merit points then he would have such a sum in less than a year, yes, but each merit star was equal in value to 100-million merit points.
Daz furrowed his brow as his body slowly generated a minute amount of internal energy - just enough to keep his brain from wanting to explode from the migraine it was enduring.
"I need more money. I need quests that give me money... When we return to New Earth it might be wise for me to focus on the Mercenary Guild seriously. I do still need to train to try to earn an Ember, but I can't ignore such a powerful instinctual feeling even if I want to." With his mind made up, Daz closed his eyes and willed himself to go to sleep.
He was far too exhausted. Talking to Emma and Master Sorola once more could wait until tomorrow.
Daz hadn't spoken to Cecil in a while so this was as good a time as any to do as Mu had done and visit his dreamscape.
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Immediately upon waking up in the foggy graveyard Daz heard the sound of saliva being collected in the back of a throat.
"Ptui!" Low and behold, Cecil was behind him perched upon a tombstone as he sniffled his nose after a successful shot, his phlegm dribbling down the grave across the way.
"Didn't think ah'd ever see ye'r ugly mug again. It's been over a month. Just when ah though ma services were no longer need'd, 'ere ye are. So, come to train ma skill or are ya only makin' a pit stop? Makin' sure ma back hasn't fold'd in on itself? Well, Buddy?" Cecil asked as he lifted his straw hat to scratch his balding head.
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Daz was relieved to note his headache wasn't present in this space. He got up and nodded apologetically. "Sorry. I've been busy. Turns out, being a king isn't as easy as just letting everyone else do the work for you."
Cecil shrugged. "Ain't no need to butter me up with apologies."
"I know. Regardless, I do plan to visit more often. As much as I saw the Grave of the Mammals skill as being useless in the past, I'm now of the mindset that I was simply using it inefficiently," Daz replied.
"Good attitude to have, Buddy. Damned shame ol' Pala's in a right state. Ah can only use ma Grave of the Gods once per day. Have ye checked the skill's info in a while? Ever since he crippled 'imself upgradin' that shovel of yers it's been limited," Cecil said, not surprising Daz in the slightest.
Of course he knew. Why would he not check this considering the skill drew upon Pala's energy to work? Regardless, since it had come up in conversation, he pulled up the skill's information again.
Grave of the Mammals [C-Rank (Higher Tier)] Description
A skill self-developed by the young Archreaper of Earth, Daz.
He had witnessed a far superior version of this skill, and through great aptitude and willpower, was able to recreate a far weaker version of the skill that his body could handle.
Through rigorous training and mentoring, he has managed to gain some mastery over the essence of this skill.
Dig a tunnel dig dig a tunnel, dig a tunnel dig dig a tunnel~
Level 10 [+9] Abilities Allows the host to use his patron god's energy to create a grave. There is no limit so long as the patron god has the needed energy to spare. Requires the use of a shovel to activate.
'Huh. Mr Flavour Text didn't insult me for a change. He didn't even mention me. That's nice,' Daz thought as he looked over the skill's details. "That's odd."
"What is, Buddy?" Cecil asked.
"Does your Grave of the Gods have a bracketed bit under the Abilities section telling you how many times it's restricted to being used?" Daz asked.
Cecil poked around in his left ear as he nodded. "Sure does. Pretty normal for a skill. Why?"
"Mine doesn't. I'm not limited at all," Daz explained.
"Huh. Weird. Maybe it's just too weak right now that ye usin' it makes literally no difference whatsoever," Cecil guessed. "Anyhoo, that's good news for us. If ye ain't restricted then ah can teach ye how ye've been fuckin' the skill up just like ah did with its earlier version to ma heart's content."
"So it would seem," Daz answered as he prepared himself for a long night of being drilled on something he likely wouldn't understand.
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Daz slowly peeled his eyes open before he shook his head. "No progress as usual."
Even though the skill was at the maximum level and thus enjoyed the benefit of having a 90% discount when upgrading it, Daz wouldn't do that until Cecil was satisfied with his mastery of the skill, however long that would take.
"Ah, good morning, Brother," Mu called from his side.
Unlike normally, the Death Reaper had a pair of sunglasses on to shield his eyes from the cascading rays of sunlight flooding into the car from all directions.
Daz checked the time via the system and saw that it was 7:32AM. "Morning. Out of curiosity," he said as he stretched, "What does your dreamscape tutor, well, tutor you in?"
"What a peculiar question. It teaches me about death and how best to use my God-rank skill," Mu explained.
"It?" Daz echoed in question.
"... My tutor is a sentient scythe. I am firmly of the belief that such a thing cannot reproduce, and thus, has no gender." Mu stroked his chin. "Do you think I am being disrespectful of it? It never seemed to mind before..."
Daz shook his head. "I'm sure it's fine. I was just a bit surprised. My tutor is an old man with a southern accent and a weak back."
"Does he teach you something other than how to wield your God-rank skill?" Mu asked curiously.
Daz wore a complicated expression. "He taught me how to dig graves. He has this very powerful skill he's shown me a handful of times called Grave of the Gods. My version is called Grave of the Mammals. His can create a city-sized hole in an instant. My version? An apartment-sized hole. He's never once brought up the God-ranked skill I got from being Pala's champion."
"Hmm... I see. Perhaps it is a difference of tier? I am the champion of a higher god, after all. The God of Shovels is a lesser god, no?" Mu speculated.
Daz wondered if that was truly the case or not.
"Ah, by the way, I had an idea. How feasible would it be for me to use Morte's Call on Mother Danielle? I've yet to use the skill, but it is a guaranteed kill on my target so long as I can see their soul. They must be related to the system for it to work but you proved that they - or at least she - is," Mu suggested.
"A good idea if not for the fact that we simply don't know if the ability to suppress the system and esper powers is solely coming from her or not. If it isn't, you'd be killing yourself to cut off the head of a hydra, not a snake," Daz countered the otherwise sound plan of attack.
"Hmm. I did not consider that. Very wise," Mu answered before he turned to look out of the window, seemingly done with the conversation.
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Shortly after that brief but informative talk, Daz met with Emma Cromwell once more.
As she had previously said, she did not care for Daz's actions nor what he planned to do with her and her remaining people.
She was a bit surprised to see him and Mu retreating before even starting a fight of any kind, but she welcomed Daz's proposition to become his citizens.
The reapers immediately visited Master Sorola after speaking to Emma to confirm that he, too, was happy to be teleported to Fort Home in an hour or so.
The middle-aged mute didn't seem to mind. He was willing to embrace the chance to go to a thriving city where the Protection Essence was bound to be rich and plentiful.
The man was without fear, yes, but he was overflowing with the desire to be helpful to those that needed his aid.
If running from the Truthians and joining Daz's cause gave him a safe place to do just that, then he was more than willing to offer his services.
With that all settled Daz and Mu swiftly returned to Fort Home. Happily spending the honestly pitiful sum required to offer citizenship and a free one-way trip to his capital, Daz has successfully saved the people of New York.
He was no fool, however. The Truthians would eventually spread their reach to his land. They lived on two separate ends of the same continent, but that didn't give Daz any stupid delusions.
"Want to meet my sister again?" Daz asked Mu. "In a less toxic environment than the auction this time. She's been scolded for talking to you like she did."
"I'd be more than happy to. I imagine we won't be taking a break, will we, Brother? There must be much to prepare if we wish to win this war," Mu assumed.
"Yeah, that's for sure. First, we talk to Rose then we find Crusher - wherever that free-willed Titan is. I'll be needing both of you quite a lot," Daz claimed as he stored his car in its key.
The two reapers swiftly made their way through Fort Skip, drawing attention to themselves all the while. After all, one was the kingdom's ruler while the other was rumoured to have almost killed said ruler. Plus, Mu's choice of clothing always managed to gather eyes onto him.
A loose button-up shirt, shorts, sunglasses and a pair of sandals were hardly common attire when it was winter and actively snowing every day or two.