Cheat 0: "Who has the Idiot Ball today?"

Overlooking the plain of Kried, the Tower of the Mage-sealed stood. Cold and austere, built from large blocks of Spellweaved black marble, this marmoreal giant had seen many a civilization emerge and vanish without a trace.

The dark dwellers operating the building were all serving a darker-still master. His name had spread to the four corners of the continent, eliciting feelings of dread and powerlessness from even the most bulwark warriors. A monster, in every definition of the word. His name was...

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Bower swallowed his rising bile. What had possessed him into coming here? The Mage-sealed had a reputation for being especially brutal and violent. Volatile, some would say.

Bower certainly hoped the Knight in front of him would not confirm the trend. His halberd looked slightly sharp. He was the only guard standing on the stairway leading to the Tower entrance. Somehow, the thought hit Bower; it is more than enough to deter any threat.

The Mage-sealed Knight grunted and slammed the end of his weapon against the granite, cracking it (Bower jumped at that). "Deliveries are at the back." His voice had an otherworldly quality which was bone-chilling.

Gathering all his rapidly fleeing courage, Bower spoke with all the assurance he could muster, "Milord Mage-sealed, please allow this one to introduce himself. Bower is but an itinerant alchemist, bestowing his services to willing parties for a few gold coins. Among these services Brewing, Herbalism, Arcane Research and Magic Support."

The Mage-sealed Knight tightened his grip on the handle of his halberd. Bower added hastily, frantically waving his hands."B-But! That is not all! Here is a sample of a draught I have brewed."

Very slowly and as conspicuously as possible, he withdrew a vial from the satchel hanging against his hip. The Knight's armored hand closed around the bottle containing an emerald green liquid. His crimson eyes, smoldering like magma, appraised the contents. He uncorked the vial and took a whiff. Then he brought it to his purple lips and with a large gulp, swallowed the potion.

His eyes flashed. Then he lowered his weapon and stepped aside, revealing the interior. Torches lit with Mana Fire dimly lighted it. Or so it looked, judging from their ethereal blue light.

With many a bow and thanks, Bower proceeded inside. His heart was beating erratically. It had been a close call, after all, the thought struck him. He absentmindedly rubbed at his chest.

He ascended the carpeted stairs and soon enough, found himself inside a vast room. A golden throne sat on a raised dais. That was a bit cliché. Two Mage-sealed Knights flanked the throne, on either side, but no-one was seated on it, to Bower's utter amazement.

Facing part of the wall of the circular room, a desk caught his attention. More specifically, the person seated in front of the piece of furniture. It was a boy. A very young boy. Six years old, at most?

Seemingly noticing his entrance, the boy hopped off the chair and ran toward him like the wind. Much faster than any kid had the right to run. The boy pulled on his pants.

"Mister, Mister, I had been waiting for you!" His high-pitched voice trembled with excitement.

Bower bent down, so he was eye-level with the boy. He smiled warmly. "Oh, and what for?"

"So you can fight the Archdemon Emperor!" He said earnestly.

Bower guffawed. He couldn't help it. He patted the boy's head indulgently. "Haha, my boy, I am a simple Alchemist. I am no hero."

The boy pouted. "But Alrow decreed it though." He sulked.

Alrow? The name distantly rang a bell, but his memory was foggy. One thing had struck him though, and he was compelled to ask.

"By the way, you ran fast. What rank are you?" Bower asked.

Now was as good a time as any to introduce the class system. All living species are divided into ranks. Humans are born with a Basic 1 rank. After Basic 9, you become an Advanced 1 rank. Then, each Advanced rank was divided into three categories, Beginner, Intermediate and Expert. Then, the rank after Advanced Expert 9 was Transcendent 1.

Once you reach Transcendent, each rank was not divided. You either progressed to the next level, or you stagnated.

Of course, only heroes reached Transcendent 1. The highest rank recorded in history was Maxwell Oak, the Hero of Heroes, who had reached Transcendent 2. The other ranks were only speculative.

The boy looked at his fingers and held up five fingers on his left hand and four on his right one. He grinned widely.

Bower's eyes widened. Rank 9?! Incredulous, Bower launched a quick Appraisal and the revealed information was Rank ?

This only happened if someone was five or more ranks higher than you.

As Bower was rank 4, he was forced to admit the truth. The kid in front of him was incredibly talented. A genius amongst geniuses.

"By the way, who is this Alrow you spoke of?" Bower asked curiously.

"Ah," the kid's expression brightened, "Alrow is the God of Unjust Destruction. He is in this room."

The God of Unjust Destruction? How ominous. Now that he said that, he had seen the name in dusty history books. So, it was this Alrow - huh- what did he mean he is in this room?!

Panicking, Bower looked around the room, but all he could see were the two Mage-sealed Knights and the kid.

Then the boy giggled and ran faster than an arrow toward the throne. He somersaulted, spun and managed to sit on it in one go.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

"I am Alrow," the boy said.

"You are Alrow..." Bower's tried to process the words with his sluggish mind.

"The God of Unjust Destruction," Bower supplied.

"Yep." Alrow nodded enthusiastically.

"The Bringer of Doom." One of his many titles.

"Yep." Cue nod.

"The Walking Calamity. The Breaker of Worlds. The Devourer of Destiny," Bower asked, just to be absolutely certain.

"That's me." Alrow grinned toothily.

"May I have a moment please?" Bower asked very calmly.

Alrow nodded genially.

Bower paced along the wall of the room.

All of a sudden Bower exploded. "Namuamidabutsu, what the fuck is this mother shitball? MOTHER HELP ME! Shitting dick, dick, dick, DICKS!" He pulled on his beard, he pulled harshly on his hair, he slammed his head against the marble. Tears streamed down his cheeks, snot ran down his nose.

Alrow laughed gleefully, clapping his hands in delight. "You're pretty funny, Mister."

Bower prostrated his whole body against the floor and mumbled incoherently.  "Please forgive this lowly servant of yours. I did not mean to intrude upon your sacred ground. I beg of you, please spare my life!"

How stupid he had been. Of course, no six years old kid could be Basic 9, no matter how talented. The physical constraints of a young body prevented that. Wait a second, that meant... Five and Four, he was not Rank 9, as he had thought. He was Rank 54.

All colors fled from Bower's face.

Alrow drummed his fingers against the armrest.

"I can't let you go, Mister," Alrow said finally.

Whyyyy?! Bower felt like crying. Actually, he did cry.

Seeing his distraught expression, maybe Alrow felt some pity. He decided to elaborate.

"You see, I have been cursed. It is a very potent curse cast by an Archdemon Emperor."

Clear Head, Alrow cast silently.

"If I may, what kind of curse?" Bower asked after he had regained a semblance of sanity.

Alrow mumbled something.

"I am sorry, I could not get that..." Bower looked at him with confusion.

The boy coughed in his fist, "The curse of True Love."

Oh. Oooooh.

Alrow watched him steadily as he explained, "It is a bit difficult to find a maiden willing to kiss a kid with feelings of true love, isn't it? This is not 'The Death Mage who doesn't want a fourth time.'

"As long as this curse is active, I can't leave this floor. And in order to leave the Tower, the Archdemon has to come to this floor. Obviously, if he does, I will annihilate it. Thus, this status quo that has lasted for decades. Until now, that is."

The smile he directed toward Bower was positively carnivorous.

"Oh don't worry, you don't have to kill it. You only have to weaken it enough so that its spell falters. I have put you under a thrall the moment you entered the tower, you see. You won't be able to leave this tower until this task is accomplished."

A thrall... If he remembered the mages' saying correctly, you don't walk twice on a blind man's testicle. No, that was not it... Ah, thrall magic binds the heart and chains the soul. Could it be? When he had entered the tower after the confrontation with the Knight, his heart had been beating erratically. He had thought it was from fright, but it must have been the effect of the magic!

 "Oh, also, it is a Transcendent 9 Archdemon Emperor," Alrow said with as much inflection as Al Roker announcing he pooped his pants.

T-Transcendent? Furthermore, a Transcendent 9?

Now the funny fact, between each subsequent Rank and Rank categories, the potential battle power was roughly doubled.

Bower was a Basic 4. Which meant...

Which meant the Archdemon was about 2 199 023 300 000 times stronger than him.

And Bower had to grievously injure it.

All things considered, Bower fainted.

Only to wake up immediately thereafter by the Awaken spell cast by Alrow.

With a snap of Alrow's fingers, he summoned a flying skull. It floated in front of Bower, making him recoil in fright. He quickly drew an item from his satchel and waved it in front of the creature.

"The power of the Christ compels you!" Bower said, brandishing a silver cross.

The skull gazed at him blankly with its empty eye sockets.

Alrow sighed and shook his head.

"This is a Basic 4 Flying Skull. I want to assess your battle power and potential. Please, do your best, Mister~" Alrow sang.

The Skull puffed a fireball no larger than a grapefruit.

Then began the most comically disastrous fight of the decade.

Bower managed to defeat the summon at last, but his clothes, as well as his hair, were singed.

Alrow pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. He cast healing magic which restored Bower to his former state.

"You have absolutely no talent as a fighter whatsoever. That's pretty pathetic actually."

Bower was crestfallen. Of course, that had been the expected result. What had he thought? That he could somehow miraculously become a fighter? His only talent laid in brewing.

"Like you really, really suck. I bet you could suck a golf ball through a garden hose."

Wut? Did he really quote Fullmetal Jacket? Gods watch movies? I mean, if they read fiction, why not...

Alrow nodded sagely. If that were the case there was only one option.

"You will have to cheat your way through it," Alrow spoke as if it were obvious.

"Cheat?" Bower asked uncertainly.

Alrow rested his head on his closed fist, his half-lidded eyes detailing the Alchemist lazily.

"There are many ways to cheat and achieve the task, given a sufficient lifespan. However, you Mister, only have one year before the thrall Reaps. I wouldn't want you to become complacent, Mister." Alrow smiled.

By now Bower was sweating profusely. "B-By reaping, you mean?"

With another snap of his fingers, Alrow summoned a Mirror Image which looked exactly like Bower. Bower inspected it carefully. The ginger mid-length beard, the spiky red hair, the brown eyes, the age lines around his eyes, even the mole under his left eye. Everything was identical.

Bower directed a confused glance toward Alrow. He didn't understand what it meant. Was he supposed to fight the Mirror Image? Like in those Star Wars movies from Earth?

"Guah!" A sudden scream from the Image.

The Image's face began to melt off. Its guts liquefied and flooded to the ground in a viscous puddle. In the end, there was only a heap of half-liquid matter and corroded bones.

Bower watched the puddle with trembling eyes. He took a handkerchief from his satchel and wiped his drenched forehead.

That was bad.

"Now about the cheat. Zug, the Mage-sealed Knight guarding the entrance, told me you had a certain talent in brewing and alchemy. Yes, I named my Knight after the German name for train, got a problem with that?" Alrow coughed.

"Fortunately, there exists a special elixir which allows someone to lend another his strength for a certain period of time. I will lend you my strength. You need only to brew it.

"Of course," Alrow continued conversationally, "such an elixir must be strong enough to accommodate me. That means it should be at least a Godly 9 potion." Alrow shrugged.

Godly 9.

"Hahaha..." Bower laughed brokenly. His legs felt like jelly.

Alrow tapped his index finger against his chin in thought. "I think a Level 10000 in Alchemy and Brewing should be enough."

"It's over NINE THOUSANDS!" Bower shouted, horrified.

Of fucking course, why was Bower surprised anymore?

He cast a glance at the puddle of mush that was his fate, should he fail. His fists tightened in determination.

He would cheat so hard he would be known as the King - no - the God-Emperor of Scammers.

Don't underestimate the determination of a middle-aged taxpayer...!

That was the birth of the greatest cheater in existence.

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New characters!

Status:

Name: Bower

Job: Alchemist

Rank: Basic 4

Skills: Brew (Level 22), Alchemy (Level 20), Herbalism (Level 14), Arcane Research (Level 6), Appraisal (Level 6), Cheating (Level 1)

Favorite things: Amelia, Tax deduction, Dragon ball, Star Wars, Dr House.

Hates: Taxes, erectile dysfunction

Hobby: Saying (un)funny quotes

Name: Alrow

Title:  God of Unjust Destruction

Job: ?

Rank: Godly 9

Skills: Soul Magic (Level > 10000), Mind magic (Level > 10000), Healing magic (Level > 10000), Summon Basic species (Level 100), Summon Advanced species (Level 100), Summon Transcendent species (Level 100), ... (other skills unknown)

Favorite things: Fanfictions, fictions, movies, Gandhi, wreaking havoc and dooming mortals.

Hates: Indecisiveness, weakness, Sailor Moon

Hobbies: Tormenting people, reading