Everyone in the communal hall stood frozen, staring at John, an older man toward the back of the room who held a piece of bread halfway up to his mouth but hadn’t moved an inch since the commotion with the system screen. The two dozen tables in the hall were all occupied by soldiers and citizens. The crowded hall had been boisterous with conversation only minutes ago. The walls of barren grey stone that usually amplified the room's sounds now stood silent. The fireplaces crackled and popped, but no one else dared make a sound. The tension in the room was palpable when a teapot began to whistle; an elderly woman stood to tend to the pot. Everyone else slowly returned to their meals, but their eyes remained affixed to John and his group. It was as if a spotlight had been cast upon them, their every move under intense scrutiny. John looked around hesitantly.

“Um. Are summoned weapons not a thing?” John whispered.

Bugsy cleared his throat. “Ah, no. Summoned weapons are common enough, but seeing someone else's screens is.” He paused and pondered for a moment. Well, that is unheard of.”

“Not only that, but what was happening around the window?” Rayne asked.

“And what is a constellation?” continued Adam.

He quickly sat at the table and motioned for everyone else to do the same. As they all sat, he leaned in and harshly whispered. “I don't understand any of what just happened either, but I do know that the green smog around my window or screen, whatever it's called, was the same shit I see around the portal when I die. I think that bastard god is somehow blocking my notifications. It must be another aspect of the curse he put on me.”

Bugsy and Monk nodded along as he spoke, and Bugsy’s expression slowly changed to confusion. “I still don't understand why he would block the system from you, though; why go to the trouble of sending you here with a curse when he could have just killed you.”

Monk sighed, “Ours is not to understand the gods and their fickle, volatile behavior. John, it seems your watcher is something more; with the ability to overcome a god’s direct influence over you, this could be a powerful ally. Try to keep them satisfied. It seems you have chosen your path, and they will likely expect you to adhere to your new oath.”

“I will do my best, Monk, but I will need your help along the way.” Monk nodded, and John thought he saw something akin to pride in the man's eyes, but he ignored it and continued addressing the group. “I know some of you are likely still curious about what just happened, but I think we have more pressing concerns. The people of Valorwood are suffering down here.” He turned to Keller and Bugsy, who were sitting next to one another. “The fortress is strong, but by the state of the people I've seen, I have to assume the supply of food and water will not last more than a few more days?”

Keller’s brow furrowed in frustration as he said, “Yes, John is right. Currently, the citizens are down to one meal a day, and the fighters are receiving two. At this rate, tomorrow, the fighters and citizens will receive a meal each, and then the food will be gone. Grimsby was in charge of overseeing the fitness of the fortress when not in use. My oversight led to this situation; I’m deeply ashamed and will answer any punishment the council decides.”

“Mistakes happen, Keller, but if we all die of starvation, there will be no shot at redemption.” Bugsy chuckled good-naturedly and continued, “John, you said you had a plan to get us out of this mess?”

John grinned, “I’m going to get eaten. Again.”

Rayne slammed her hands on the table. “John, are you stupid? Do you lose more and more brain cells every time you die? Absolutely not. We don't know how many times you can come back. What if this is your last opportunity?”

“I'm inclined to agree with Rayne here, Kid. I don't know the full plan, but I imagine any plan involving you being eaten wouldn't be a pleasant experience for us. You’ve died a few times now, so your mind may have become numb to it, but for us, we watched your body turn to pulp in the mouth of that creature only days ago.” Adam said, glancing at Rayne, realizing his detailed description of John’s first death might have been a little too much and a little too soon. Rayne was indeed glaring at him, which caused John to laugh.

“Right, Right, okay, I won't be eaten again. I was just being dramatic.” Rayne's expression softened slightly, and John grinned. What I'm thinking is this. John began to explain his plan in earnest, slowly, everyone at the table started to come around to what he was explaining; Monk and Adam were grinning like lunatics by the time he had stopped speaking and looked around the table. Rayne and Keller looked impressed, and Bugsy looked worried. Skaglin had once again found food from somewhere and was busy gnawing on it like it was his last meal, eyes darting back and forth, clutching the loaf of bread protectively.

“Let me go fetch some people. We will need them for John’s plan to work. Bugsy, take them down to the material storage rooms. There should be some useful crates down there.” Keller looked around, receiving nods of confirmation. He nodded back and stood from the table, hurrying off to find the people he had spoken of.

Sometime later, the seven stood upon the wall looking out into the dark underbelly of the spacecraft that held the Valorwood fortress. John looked around; they were surrounded by twenty of Valorwood’s strongest guards. Even with his new weapon and strength,, he felt inferior to the men and women around him. As his thoughts began to turn bleak, a dull pain ached through his forearm, and he felt as though the thoughts he was having were inherently wrong to who he was.

“It must be my bloodline trying to reject the weakness,” he thought. It was a sobering feeling to be influenced by something other than his self-destructive thoughts for once. He took a deep breath and looked to Keller, who was studying him. John nodded.

“Is everyone ready,” Keller asked in a low voice.

The rustling of armor and cloth was the only reply as everyone on the wall nodded.

“Godspeed,” he replied to their nods as he dropped a rope ladder down the wall. Monk grabbed Skaglin and jumped from the wall along with Adam. The three hit the floor below without a sound and quickly disappeared into the darkness. John thumbed the heavy necklace hanging from his neck and gripped the ladder. Quickly reaching the bottom he looked up at a small hand cart being lowered by ropes from the top of the wall. Soft grunts accompanied the cart's lowering, as it reached the gound it hit the floor with a soft thunk. John untied the ropes and tugged them each as they came free from the cart. The ropes were hauled up, and two shoddy wooden boxes were lowered to the floor. John repeated the process with the ropes and turned to Rayne and Bugsy, waving them over from where they crouched in the shadow of the wall. The three quickly loaded the two crates into the cart and secured them with a bundle of rope that Bugsy had brought from the top of the wall.

“John,” Bugsy whispered. “This plan is dangerous, and there are many ways this could go wrong. I won't try to stop you, but keep your head on a swivel, be aware at all times, and come back safely.”

John nodded and looked at Rayne; she was chewing her lip nervously. He smiled at her, and she wrapped him in a hug. “You’re crazy, but I’m happy you’re not dead. Just come back alive this time.” She said softly before letting him go and returning to the shadows. John looked over his shoulder, observing the guards all crouched in the wall's shadow. A wild bloom of confidence swelled in his chest, and he turned forward, feeling more determined. He lifted the cart onto its wheels, and slowly and quietly, pulling it up into the gloom that edged the massive chamber. It took him close to a half hour, but John pulled the cart to the middle edge of the room. He set the cart down and whispered.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“Temerity.” His hand gripped the shaft of his axe, admiring it for a moment. He had to chastise himself when he realized he had zoned out staring at the axe.

“Focus. John. Focus.” He tightened his grip on the axe and swung hard at the cart's wheel. The axe bit deeply into the wooden wheel and slid through, shaving a piece off the wheel. The resounding thwack echoed off the walls of the chamber. John took a deep breath, dismissed his axe, and readied himself at the front of the cart. The silence was deafening; it was as if everyone in the cavern held their breath,

listening intently.

Thunk… Thunk. Thunk, thunk, thunk. The cart shuddered each time the flattened wheel hit the cold metal of the cavern floor. John picked up speed to a full sprint as he drug the cart back towards the fortress wall: Thunk, thunk, thunk. From the darkness, a deafening roar split the air, and John grinned maliciously. Dropping the cart and slowing, he turned to find the creature. It came barrelling out of the darkness, its thick leathery hide rippled over thick chorded muscles. The creature’s frilled head swept back and forth, looking for its prey. John’s axe appeared in his hand with a shout, and he slammed the flat of the crystalline blade against the floor, throwing up a shower of sparks and a clear ringing that drew the monster's attention. It skidded to a stop and turned toward John baring its teeth.

Further away from the fortress, the dark elf camp was like a disturbed ant hill. Dark elven warriors and bat riders were hurrying in all directions and were so consumed by the activity in the cavern that not one of them noticed the three figures creep out of the shadows. Monk, Adam, and Skaglin skulled around the raised edge of the platform where the dark elf forces had created their camp. They each pulled out a cloth-wrapped package from various places upon their persons and tossed it under the platform. Adam and Skaglin each ran away from the platform to opposite sides of the cavern while Monk leaped directly amidst the swarm. He exhaled slowly as he loosed the massive battle maul from his back. Monk gripped the haft of his maul tightly as he activated a skill. A green-gold aura seeped up from the ground where he stood and sucked into his chest. A shockwave was released all around Monk, battering back the enemies who had frozen in the significant man's presence. Monk let loose a howl of rage and sorrow as he entered a frenzy. The blunt force swings of his maul tore limbs from their sockets with sprays of viscera. Skin, sinue, and ligaments stretched and pulled away as the devil that had appeared among the dark elves moved. An overhand cleave collapsed the spinal column of one elf, and blood sprayed from the man's nose like a geyser. Monk batted the inconsequential warrior away and stepped forward. Three more elves fell with a single horizontal swipe. He continued forward, wading through the bodies surrounding him, until a horn sounded. The drow all turned toward the fortress and fled from Monk. He sucked in a deep breath allowing himself to relax as he watched their fleeing backs, an ache in his head demanded that he follow the remaining forces and lay waste to them all. To crush them like the insects they were, he forced that thought away as he turned to where Skaglin was gone. He nodded as he thought of the plan and launched himself toward the gloom.

The creature snorted as John slammed down the axe blade again. It rose onto its hind legs, bringing its thick truck-sized fists into the air and slamming them down onto the floor. The beast roared its challenge, thick ropes of saliva flying out of its maw. It began to lumber toward John. John moved behind the cart and began to backpedal. John turned and dropped his head, pumping his legs as hard as he could. He lost all precept of coordination; he simply hit the ground as hard as he could with his feet. He ran, and he listened.

Crash

“Now!” he yelled at himself, biting deeply into the side of his hand. He tore away the skin with a groan of pain. Reaching up to his neck, he grabbed the heavy silver necklace and yelled.

“INCINERATE”

He turned just as a bright, hissing thermite lance lit up the wreckage of the cart. The wood scraps of the boxes and the cart combusted almost instantaneously, but for a single horrifying moment, nothing happened. The beast was leaving the wreckage behind when an ear-shattering boom and a bright flash engulfed the cavernous hull. John closed his eyes and was thrown from his feet by a massive shockwave. The air was pressed from his lungs, and he tumbled across the ground. Groans and ragged wheezing were all he could manage as he lay there, trying desperately to pull air into his lungs. He could vaguely feel the heat and debris raining down all around him, and when he finally gasped a great lung full of air, it was hot and dirty, like standing directly over a campfire. He blinked rapidly, and the hollow noises around him came into focus as he sat up, groaning. The shock of everything happening had dulled John's senses. But as the dust settled, and he sat on the floor looking around dumbly, a sharp pain in his stomach caused him to flinch and cry out. The pained yell was accompanied by a splattering of blood that dribbled down his chin. He looked down at a shard of one of the steel straps that had held the cart together; it was buried in his ribs. With shaking hands and shallow gasps, he reached for the offending shrapnel. The slightest touch sent wild throbbing pain up his back and neck. John let his hand fall to the ground numbly; he sat, unable to move.

From the edge of the cavern Monk watched as the massive explosion threw both John and the creature toward the Fortress wall. Each of the packages he, Adam, and Skaglin had thrown under the Drow encampment exploded as well, killing many of the stragglers. Many of the drow had left the platform in time to survive the blast, but they weren't. Unfortunately, They were sandwiched between two shockwaves that knocked the warriors off their feet and the riders from their bats. Many of the riders died upon reaching the ground, having been unable to withstand the blasts and the subsequent impact. Monk nodded to Skaglin, who shot out from the gloom and began to dispatch many of the warriors who were only returning to their feet. On the otherside of the charge they were met with a shorter than average elven man that blew holes in their armor with nothing but his glowing fists. . Skaglins daggers worked in vicious short arcs that cut deep lines in the backs of knees and ankles. As the drow became fully immobilized, he would pounce on them, finding weaknesses in armor before moving on to his next victim. Skaglin took a few minor wounds in the process of eliminating the remaining invaders. Adam, however, was covered in blood from head to toe; Monk watched as the man wiped it off with a disgusted look on his face. The blood was not his own, and the two were fine, so he turned his attention back to John, who was sitting on the ground looking dazed. Monk considered going to John’s aid, but he restrained himself.

“The boy must undergo his own trials. He is functionally immortal, but he must strengthen his mind.” Monk thought as he chewed his lip.

The war cries of the Valorwood guards reached his ears. He turned his head slowly and saw the bright flashes of skills going off all around the creature. It was surrounded by guardsmen and lying in a heap. He saw Keller, Bugsy, and Rayne and the ripple of the beast's skin as it regained consciousness. The men and women of Valorwood took a simultaneous step backward as the creature's body spasmed.

“No.” John thought. “No, no, no.”

“NO!” He screamed through clenched teeth as the blood flowed from his mouth. The coppery tang infuriated him. The creature infuriated him; this was his plan, his idea, and he would not be responsible for the deaths of the people who had placed their faith in him. He rolled, getting his knees under himself, and pushed off the ground. His legs shook as he took his first step forward. His knees buckled as he took his second. John sat on his knees, staring with a cascade of blurred and incoherent thoughts racing through his mind.

“No.” He stood again, walking forward, his face a grim mask of pain and fury. Blood flowed down his chin with each breath, and his body began to feel cold. He needed to fight, he needed to reach his friends and help somehow.

“Temerity”

His axe appeared in his hand, and the pain numbed marginally. A thrill of excitement that wasn't his own flooded his head and cleared some of the fog. He stared at the back of the dirty fucking monster.

“Yes, it's not a creature. It’s not a beast.” John grit his teeth. “This is the same filthy fucking bag of shit that ate me.” His vision, which had previously been growing dark, suddenly took on a shade of red as he growled. Even to his own ears, it sounded more bestial than he had expected.

The monster was now on its feet and weakly swinging its arms back and forth. Even obviously injured each time the monster’s swing connected, someone was thrown away into the gloom. John continued to limp forward until he saw Bugsy; the man was holding a spear and shield as he squared himself against the monster. Bugsys lips were rushing, and he thrust his arm forward; the spear took on a green glow, and the tip exploded forward in a spectral flash of green light. The translucent green spear burst out from the monster’s shoulder blade. It roared and lifted its arms over its head. John saw the dawning fear in Bugsy’s eyes, and something snapped in John’s head. Blood poured from his nose like a waterfall as he reared back with the axe. Words flew from his mouth unbidden as he threw the axe forward.

“Calamitous Stand”

The Axe blazed forward, engulfed in a conflagration of red viscous energy that seemed to collapse upon itself and propel the axe forward. John’s axe hit so hard that the horrid visage of the creature tore as its shattering skull was ejected from with the skin. The fountain of blood was a gruesome and welcome sight to all who witnessed it. John stood still, however, one foot forward, his torso slumped over his knee. It wasn't until sometime after the swift conclusion of the battle that his friends found the lifeless form still standing in defiance of his own death. Everyone who saw his corpse swelled with pride and fury.

…

In a dark void, voices spoke to one another. Pinpricks of lights flashed as each spoke.

Why must you do this? You have given the forsaken child teeth. You will turn the eyes of the system upon this dead world if you do not stop your meddling. It is already close to a redemption trial with those two. Would you doom us to the rule of the system again?

Hark, and fear not, comrade Raven. Thou dost worry overmuch. Mine eyes beheld a soul akin to mine own, and by my sacred oath, I am bound to aid him. I shall lift him and our noble order unto heights of grandeur once more. I fear neither the decrees of the malevolent system nor the deity who placed the lad afore mine gaze, for his valor springs from a righteous heart and an unyielding spirit. The shackles of tyranny and the dictates of divine providence alike shall not unkindle his flame.

You will not change his mind raven, He has seen the blood of his order flow. It is too late the integration will resume, and the others will come.

A chorus of agreements echoed out from the darkness, and each of the constellations fell silent; they all knew what was beyond the horizon, and they all feared it.