A few minutes that felt like seconds passed in overdrive as Hecate’s mind raced through thoughts. Possibilities. Ideas. His evil grin had long since fallen off. Alastor had stopped smiling evilly after the first two minutes, too, looking at him with mild concern and curiosity.

“How far does your information ability extend, Alastor?” Hecate finally asked – now that he was no longer cautious against Alastor, he was curious. Very curious. It was in the very nature of a mage to be curious – and he was no exception.

Alastor tilted his head, “It depends. What do you want to know?”

Hecate paused, licking his lips as he pondered about it. “Many thoughts ran through my mind when I first learnt of your ability to become an elementary mage and wipe mana traces, both I assume by utilizing souls, Alastor. I assume your information privilege costs souls, too.”

Seeing the Chosen One’s eyes widen, the Head Mage chuckled, “I have interacted with dark mages, you know? Some of the more unorthodox amidst them are pretty good friends of mine – I’m aware about how they use bodies, blood, souls, to do a variety of stuff. And I observed Ragnar on a very close basis. If even by now, I couldn’t figure out that you can utilize souls to do some immensely interesting stuff – such as wiping mana traces,” Hecate paused and hummed, “Though that could be an ability of your own, and leveling up to an elementary mage, I would be a fool.”

“That’s fair.” Alastor nodded, his lips forming a small, impressed smile.

Smiling back, Hecate continued, “Many thoughts ran through my mind once I confirmed your abilities to some extent. One of them was to present you in front of the king once you advance to the elementary stage – proving your exceptionalness – and make you denounce him.” The Head Mage could feel his eyes twinkling as he thought through it, “Naturally, since you’d be under mine and my disciple – Severine’s – protection, there is no way he could touch you. However, your actions would lead to enough internal chaos.”

Alastor nodded, seemingly very curious, prodding him to continue.

“However, unlike me, Severine had a genuine wish to clean this kingdom of its filth.” Hecate’s expression turned grim. “And now, I have the same desire sparking within me. With your abilities, we can do so, so much.”

“Such as?” Alastor asked, his eyes twinkling now too.

“Tell me, dear Alastor,” The Head Mage asked, “Can you destroy anti-teleportation barriers?”

Alastor paused, blinking blankly for a few seconds. Then, he nodded. “Yes. Depending on the strength of the barrier, it could cost anywhere from fifty to a hundred souls. Maybe one fifty if we’re talking about multiple barriers forming an intricate formation. Of course, assuming this is around a room and not one of those ancient, city spanning ones.”

The Head Mage grinned victoriously. “You see, Alastor,” he almost crooned, “One of my specialities is stealth. And teleportation. Now, if you can mark those who have committed sins, and can destroy anti-teleportation barriers, imagine what we could do if we go to Enaj together.”

The Chosen One’s eyes widened as he seemingly thought through what Hecate had said – Hecate could almost see the thoughts whirring behind the man’s eyes.

Before Alastor could say anything, however, Hecate continued, “Which is why I asked you how far your information ability stretches. If you could flag down where each corrupt knight resided, we could conduct a massacre, my friend. A massacre.”

“And we could leave the name of a persona. Of an organization.” Alastor mumbled.

Hecate narrowed his eyes lightly at the non sequitur before which realization dawned upon him. “Right, yes. We could indeed leave the name of an organization, make those corrupt aware that there are people who desire justice out for their blood, and strike fear into each one of the noble’s hearts.”

“Exactly.” Alastor nodded, “Exactly.”

“I have another question before that, however.” Hecate continued, “How recent does someone’s death have to be for you to be able to extract their souls?”

—

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Alastor blinked as he processed the Head Mage’s words. Right. How recent do they have to be? He hummed as he bit his lower lip – Their deaths should definitely not be any older than a day. They’d enter the reincarnation cycle after a day, after all, and Chaos cannot access them without entering Tartarus once that happens.

“A day.” He told the Head Mage, “No older than a day.”

Hecate nodded. “Alright. With the souls you currently have, could you use your information privilege to perhaps find the base of a place such as Savva’s?”

He barely stopped himself from smiling at the Head Mage’s assumption that his information privilege came from using souls. I mean, it’s a fair assumption to make, he couldn’t help but concede, but it’s still hilarious. I can access any and all information I extracted from World Cores during my previous runs, after all – it doesn’t require any souls.

“I could,” Alastor affirmed, “But you know just as well as me that we are far too unprepared to attack such a place. Even with the firepower you and the Vice Head would make, they have sophisticated enough systems in place to escape in emergencies that most of them would get away with.”

He could just use the perk he’d received in the fifth reset to obliterate the entire place if he had enough souls, of course, but he doubted such an action would encourage Hecate’s or the rest of the gang’s trust in him – he’d be killing all the slaves inside the headquarters too, after all.

The Head Mage nodded. “That is about all I wanted to know right now.” He then grinned, in his standard creepy way that made his beard stretch and wrinkles contract, “For now, let us kill the rest of the thugs in our list present in the slums. And perhaps, as you said, we could start leaving behind a name for evil to fear.”

“Us?” Alastor questioned. Wouldn’t it be Severine and him who were about to do it?

“I plan to join your excursion instead.” The Head Mage’s smile grew even wider. “Let’s give Severine and the rest a break, yes?”

—

From the second he first remembered, Alan was always in the slums. Day in, day out, life was a struggle. Especially after his sister went into a coma. She… was talented, unlike him. Someone who shined brightly even in the slums, someone who thrived. Unlike her, he… he was mediocre. As mediocre as mediocre could be.

And thus he could not thrive. Inevitably, he fell into the trap that most people in the slums succumbed to – he took loans. Debts. And they had always haunted him ever since the day he’d taken them. But today… Today they finally caught up.

From his kneeling position, he stared up at the muscled brutes standing in front of him – members from the gang that he’d taken his loans from. They would find a way to make some money out of him – may that be by selling his organs to a dark mage, selling him as a slave, or selling him in ways he could not even imagine with his non-criminal brain. They were specialists at this, after all.

“It’s still not too late.” One of them chuckled, “Give us the money, and we’ll leave you.”

Alan didn’t even bother responding to that – if he responded, and begged, these thugs would only gain enjoyment from it. They wouldn’t spare him. And he did not want to give them entertainment in vain.

“Alright, then.” One of the others said to the one that previously spoke. “Get this over with. Have you brought the sedative?”

“I have.”

Alan closed his eyes tightly, waiting for what was going to happen. A variety of thoughts flashed through his mind – should he resist? But how? His hands were tied up, he was kneeling, he was far from muscled, there was no way he could fight against this group and win, let alone escape. But his sister… if he were to die, no one would be there to take care of her. Even if no one tried to take advantage of her being comatose and sell her, she would eventually die due to a lack of care.

She… had no one but him.

Tears leaked out of his eyes instinctively as he trembled, waiting for his fate to descend, for that sharp sting of a sedative. But nothing happened. A minute, two, three… He opened his eyes and peeked at his surroundings, only to freeze at what was presented in front of him.

All the muscled thugs were lying on the floor. In an almost peaceful manner, they looked like they’d just gone to sleep, like someone had sedated them instead. If not for the burning red letters on each of their faces – ‘Cleanse’, he would have thought they had accidentally sedated themselves. How that was possible, even he had no idea.

As he blinked in confusion, trying to process what had happened, he felt the ropes binding his hands being cut. He snapped his head around in a way that made the muscles in his back scream in protest, but he couldn’t care less. There were two masked men – one was standing a bit behind him, while the other was cutting his ropes with a small pocket knife.

Once the man was done, he patted Alan on the shoulder, “Today, you’ll be free from your debtors.”

Alan blinked blankly. “W—What?”

“This injustice has gone on for too long,” the man replied – his voice fully masked and androgynous. If not for the masked man’s body structure, Alan would have not a single hint of the identity of his savior. “But we, the Cleanse, are here to correct this. Never will people have to suffer this again.”

Without even realizing it himself, a hint of admiration appeared in Alan’s eyes.

—