Alan ended up bursting down the doors of all the towers, and also other places which had been pointed out to him. There was not even a piece of stronger enchantment, despite there being plenty of mass-produced ones. Their ‘king’ sure was greedy.

All through this, Mayra didn’t reappear after going to the World Temple. He wasn’t worried despite the passing of hours. Someone like Rust would hardly have the ability to mess with the System itself, so the World Temple was probably the safest place in the city. What would even happen if one decided to fight inside it? Probably nothing good.

There had been only a few deaths among those he ‘apprehended’ and rounded up. They screamed about their King coming to rescue them, or how Alan would be sorry for his insolence, or toward the rest of those around, condemning their betrayal.

Overall, it was a cacophony of loudmouth bastards with too much ego and some level of brainwashing. Alan was surprised they had managed to coexist and cooperate but perhaps having a narcissistic lunatic with a savior complex as a leader was enough to make them tolerate one another. It took only a little of Alan’s improved and hungry aura of dark will to quiet them down.

After some questioning, threats, a bit of torture, and a copious amount of people pissing their pants, he gave up. They were tools that knew nothing of Rust's movements. The man hadn’t even trusted his chosen subordinates with any information.

It was impressive how he had set all of it up. Districts, with appropriate leaders, who tried to satisfy the demands of the King. It was a chain of command controlled by the threat of being forcibly mutated, tortured, or killed. It was especially impressive that most were not even affected by the strange skill, but believed they were. They also thought he could see all their movements and read their thoughts, and quite a few were expecting to die at any given moment. It was honestly impressive and explained why he had kept most at such low levels.

All of the district leaders and their subordinates were rounded up too, and most were quite happy to be rid of Rust. Alan’s arrival and the way he had sliced through all the Sanctuary’s protections had left quite an impression on everyone. The barrier that hid the Sanctuary was easily erected again, but the other two would take time. It didn’t take the leader to do so—as long as there was sufficient mana, it worked.

Alan doubted someone like Rust would just flee and take things lying down. In fact, he would most likely do something terribly stupid in an attempt to save his fragile ego… The barrier made it so that he, as someone who wasn’t a member of the Sanctuary but resided inside it, was somewhat cut off from the rest of the world. The effect was much less pronounced for those living in this place. It allowed him to concentrate on the Sanctuary itself, and sense the flow of mana and the living beings better.

He could sense Mayra coming toward him. She was different than the rest, and the presence hidden deep inside her barely perceptible.

“I can’t do it, Master. I’m sorry,” she said as she came up to him.

“You can’t?”

That’s a surprise, but not that much of a one. Rust would hardly abandon ship. He’s not that type of bastard.

“This Sanctuary is different. It’s strong and trying to erode the control of the previous leader is not possible for me. I don’t know why it was so easy last time. Perhaps the size of the World Temple is both indicative of how developed the Sanctuary is and how strong the control of its leader is as well.”

“I see.”

“Maybe you could try? Relinquishing the position to me afterward is quite easy.”

Alan nodded. That could be for the best. The Sanctuary itself was quite an interesting achievement. His guesses that it was members of all the conquered places gathered in one was quite true, and he wondered if each Sanctuary only had a few hundred people at most, then how many were there? How large was the world now, and did everyone have a creepy forest around them? Probably not.

Many would’ve probably died in time. Eight billion people… how many were left? And considering other races were mingling about… the scale of it all was too much for him to think of. It was another era of discovery, but rather than enjoying the wonders and sights of this new world, everyone was focused on killing and growing their personal strengths.

How long until a dominant force rose, and started ruining this place as well by trying to get all of its resources and hidden secrets? And how long until the outside forces were allowed to intervene. If a force of a higher tier decided to conquer this place… Alan didn’t want to think about it. He was barely protecting a single Sanctuary.

Few of the buildings had caught his eye too, and Guard One, the ever-helpful woman who was growing more and more comfortable with him had explained the functions of each. One was a greenhouse that grew mana-infused food, allowing those who were not yet rid of the need for sustenance to grow quickly and survive. Some of it gave small boosts to attributes or a temporary boost to sensing mana. It all went away in time, but it was good to know that food could be made into a buff. Perhaps in the future, each army would have a tier two or three cooks that would double their strengths with delicious sandwiches.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Alan missed sandwiches. He missed fizzy drinks too. Coffee the most of all. And steak.

Another was a greenhouse yet again, but for magic ingredients. Trees grew in a matter of weeks only to be cut down and used as the basis for mass-produced weapons. They were good weapons and felt like steel despite being made of tree flesh. Nothing spectacular, but still miles above what most of those in Alan’s Sanctuary carried at the moment. Or was it? There were no special effects other than ease of channeling skills and sturdiness on the new weapons. The armor was also made from some sort of tree. He had initially thought it was leather harvested from monsters, but apparently, it was tree bark that grew strangely soft and was similar to skin.

The third and final one was a training facility, where skills were evaluated and examined by the few [Class Trainers] living in the Sanctuary. It was spatially distorted to be a couple of times larger on the inside—courtesy of the System of course.

It was all very intriguing to Alan. He hadn’t perused such ‘common good’ buildings at all, but it all looked like Rust was trying to create an army. His goal to fight those he called ‘invaders’ could be seen as noble, in a way, if he wasn’t such a dick about it.

Alan didn’t think mass production such as this was needed. Mr. Muge and his people were enough to support their smaller Sanctuary. Plus, everyone had different needs and wants. While Alan wasn’t paying much attention to weapons currently, he still greatly appreciated the staff and his daggers. They were quite a welcome boost when skills alone weren’t enough.

It was about a day later when he entered the World Temple himself. He had made sure there were no hidden traps or people, and everyone was thoroughly examined for traces of the rust particles their King loved to use so much. Overall, the Sanctuary was quite poor, but that was to be expected.

The World Temple here was larger than Alan had anticipated. Larger than it had right to be, honestly. The four entrances were more ornate and mesmerizing than the ones in his home Sanctuary, and the mists inside were thick and refreshing. As soon as his will reached out, however, he was rejected. He was not a member of this place, so he was not allowed to access it.

The process of conquering the place involved quite a bit of will, and quite a bit of repeating ‘Who’s the boss?’ to a pile of inanimate stones and water vapor, but Alan was good at such exercises of imagination.

Just as he prepared to unleash it all and crush whatever remnants of Rust haunted this place, trying to wipe out all traces of anything foreign, he felt a disturbance.

[First Pathfinder] sang in his mind, alerting him of the presence of something new. Something strange and dangerous. He turned and rushed toward the wall, ignoring all in his path. As he climbed up the barrier went down, revealing the Sanctuary once again. Only one could do that. He watched the forest line for traces of anything strange. Such strong spatial forces were bound to be trouble.

Guard One and her retinue followed as quickly as they could, and Mayra joined them. They reached Alan just in time to see what he was seeing.

Two gold-clad creatures like the ones from the clearing stepped out toward the Sanctuary, and between them hung Rust.

His expression was twisted and manic. His hands were free and a golden line rested on his forehead.

Not a prisoner then. What have you done you stupid motherfucker?

Alan didn’t joke, nor did he try to make light of the situation for once. If those were the invaders Rust had fought, then either they had caught him and forced him to talk, or he had led them here… A betrayal of his own people? Joining forces with the ones he was trying to fight? It made no sense, but human nature rarely did. Minds seemed to snap much easier under the effects of classes and skills if they were not tended to more carefully.

The Sanctuary was in true danger now. The two creatures were very strong. Alan could feel it in his bones, and his senses warned him that there was no going back if he got into conflict with them. The tiny sliver of trapped will tremble somewhere inside him, and shadows wrapped around it, suffocating and dominant.

Conquering it and taking over the knowledge it held would’ve been quite useful right about now, but he had stalled, thinking other things more important. He didn’t know the names of the invaders. He had known it for a moment during [Will of the Dead] exploration before it had been stolen from him.

The whispers grew stronger yet again. Excited. There was another quality to them now—something he had noticed only when he fought stronger opponents. It had taken him a while to place the feeling those unintelligible notes created, but it was almost similar to… pride. Pride and arrogance, but not empty and vain. Rather, ones that stood the test of time.

‘We’re here. We might be broken, but we’re here.’ Alan didn’t know where the thought had come from. He could understand seldom words, and feel feelings. Meanings were harder to decipher most of the time, a part of him knew most of it was gibberish. Whispers of those long gone. Whispers of an extinct race that had chosen him as their Scion.

“M-Master? Those things, they’re scary! My patron advises me to run…” Mayra said from beside him.

“You can run, if you want to,” Alan said with a soft smile. He wouldn’t blame her. He himself was growing nervous, but more so than that, he was growing excited.

Alan jumped from the wall and heard gasps from the crowds that had gathered. He walked toward the group of three. The golden four-armed many-eyed bug-like humanoids were truly scary. The whispers intensified as he ignored them, and focused on Rust.

“Aren’t those the invaders you want to protect us from?”

Rust smiled. Something seemed to swim behind his wide and bloodshot eyes. Alan couldn’t feel anything from inside the man. As if Rust could suddenly block his sense of flow. Alan couldn’t gauge the insectoids either.

That was interesting. He could feel enough to know that he was close in strength to them, though.

“If I can’t protect humanity, no one should be allowed to!” Rust finally said.

Something was wrong with the guy.

One of the golden insectoids moved in the next moment, a blade springing from each of its arms as it descended on Alan, only to be met by a [Spirit Devour] that made it freeze and twitch in place, followed by a [Consuming Dark].

It was then the other moved too, disappearing in golden vapor, only to appear behind Alan and try to skewer him.