How To Use Console Commands

Chapter 9

A picture was starting for form.

Lexcia was, on the surface, an idyllic world of fantasy and magic where everything was constantly provided for anyone and everyone. But there was a price for all of this. Tradition drove a large number of the leadership into what was effectively mass genocide and witch hunts. The Grigori were persecuted and executed to feed the Readers more out of habit than any actual purpose. The fear of a non-existent 'Dark Lord' continued to grip the citizenry even if no actual Dark Lord had manifested in millennia. Worse still, a hierarchy of control and rule had rendered the person at the very head of the leadership incapable of any sort of relief from his existence as nothing could kill him and everyone was so wound tightly around his very existence that he was cruelly kept alive in luxury, bored and incapable of ever experiencing anything resembling true joy. The citizenry were kept ignorant of all this and were sapped of all ambition or growth as they grew up wanting nothing.

This was not heaven.

It was hell based around sloth, stagnation and listlessness.

"Heh," Payton chuckled softly. "Ennui."

Ghorrend ran his big, green hand absently through Payton's chest, his fingers stroking the thick fur there. Never being a hairy guy back on earth, the sensation of his hair follicles being stimulated on his chest was a welcome sensation.

I can see why dogs like having their bellies rubbed.

"What's that?" asked the naked orc, his lower half tastefully hidden beneath the sheets.

The previous night was still fresh in his memories. On top of defeating Ghorrend's Shade and realizing that everyone he had altered in such a way could very easily be forced to face their own dark counterparts, there was Inferiorix's revelations and the terrifying realisation that he was treading the thin line against a living god. Inferiorix could do anything and everything so long as it didn't hurt him directly and anything in this world couldn't hurt him either. Payton had yet to reveal that he couldn't outright delete Inferiorix but he was sure he could find some way to kill the Godmage with his abilities.

Maybe I could outright create a character or item... That wouldn't be under his jurisdiction.

His thoughts were wrenched from the dismal thoughts, however, when he recalled returning to Avergreen and relaying the information to the rest of the group. The wolf and Dark Lord was fairly sure he had kept a still and collected face during the entire exchange and even as everyone started to argue and panic over the revelations, it was Ghorrend who had pulled him from the pit of despair he was circling. The big orc unceremoniously grabbed him by the waist, hoisted him over his shoulder and declared they were leaving. When asked where he was taking Payton, the orc merely said, 'To fuck'.

And that was that.

The passionate night still left its mark of him and he looked back fondly on the previous night. It was not impossible to think of the harrowing encounters without being reminded of the hours of sex that followed afterwards. Whenever he tried, a lewd grin would cross his features, he'd start getting hard and then he could taste the orc again.

Goddamnit...

"Where I come from," Payton explained, "it means that feeling of listlessness and dissatisfaction from a lack of excitement or because you're bored."

Ghorrend propped himself up on an elbow, his immense frame looming over Payton and his rough features strangely alien but comforting at the same time. "What a strange word."

"It's French."

"French? What is that? Some form of runic language to invoke magic?"

Payton had to laugh at himself a little as he was constantly amazed at how different Lexcia was from Earth. "No. It's an entirely different language spoken by an entirely different country with a different set of cultures."

"Strange. Each domain of a Listener could be considered its own nation and yet we all speak the same language. I can't imagine speaking anything else."

Probably another of Inferiorix's unintentional mistakes. Without language barriers, everyone is united... against him in this case.

"Yeah. Where I come from there are entirely different languages in different countries. Even the same country can have different regional dialects with slight variations in the main language. It can be really confusing sometimes but I guess that's why Earth is always constantly evolving where Lexcia..."

"Has been the same for the past five thousand years," Ghorrend finished. The orc sighed, slumping into the big, fluffy pillows of Payton's bed with his arms crossed behind his head. "Sometimes I wonder what things would be like had Inferiorix not done what he had done."

Swung his legs over the edge of the bed, rising from the musky sheets. "You might be hunting me down as a Dark Lord and be a Level 100 adventurer by now."

Ghorrend's big arms wrapped around his waist and the orc's tusked lips gently brushed against his neck, bringing pangs of last night's activities and a tingle down his spine. "Knowing you, you would have found some way to convince me to join you regardless. You are _very_persuasive."

Just like Inferiorix...?

That thought soured his mood immediately and he gently brushed off his governor. He rose from the bed, naked and fur caked with sweat and semen. "I'm going to take a bath."

"Did I say something wrong?" Ghorrend asked, concerned.

There's no point in hiding my thoughts. He was there and probably the only other person apart from Amberline who I can talk to...

"It occurred to me that I'm acting a lot like Inferiorix," he admitted. "He said that when the individual kingdoms attacked him out of jealousy, he fought them, killed their armies and then resurrected everyone. I did exactly that with Gobhood's armies. The guy that was meant to kill me I turned into one of my most trusted friends. How am I different from him? Will what _I_do just lead to the exact same thing as him? Will I just end up making Lexcia another living hell? But this time for nonhumans?"

Ghorrend shuffled out of the bed, his immense, muscled form stirring awake. He gently grabbed the back of Payton's head and pulled him against his thick, hairy chest.

"Our experiences with my own Shade would suggest that you wouldn't do that. You should have learned that we cannot forget the past but learn from it. That is how we triumphed over that shadow. If not, then I will just have to fuck you raw until you keep that message to heart."

Payton rolled his eyes and pushed away from the orc. "No one fucks the Dark Lord."

And that's true. I've been doing all the fucking.

He slapped Ghorrend's chest with the back of his paw and strode towards the bathroom. "We should get ready. We're going to have a lively discussion today about what the hell we're going to do."

Naturally Ghorrend joined him and while they didn't have any sexual interactions in the shower, they merely enjoyed one another's company as they bathed. Ghorrend, in particular, needed an inordinate amount of soap and shampoo to wash his long, red mane of hair.

"I have the need to cut this short," grunted the orc, rubbing his scalp until his head was completely covered in a crown of bubbles. "The shaggy, wild, hair was Gaolsheer's trademark."

"I'm sure someone can cut it for you," Payton replied, scrubbing down his own pelt. It was very different washing a body covered entirely in fur. Especially his tail. He tilted his head back to allow the water from the shower to wash down his neck and chest. His eyes lingered on Ghorrend's firm body and though he was hit with a sense of jealousy at the muscled frame, his mind went back to the few times that he actually got physical and fought.

I can't always rely on my console commands in a fight. I know they're my power, but I've got to develop my own skills.

If Inferiorix can actually get stats at 9999, maybe I can too.

"You think you can teach me how to fight?"

Ghorrend opened his eyes in surprise. "What? You fight well enough."

"I fight like an anime protagonist," he scoffed. "That's not fighting."

"What's anime?"

Payton shook his head and waved the question away. "Don't worry. I know I can use my God Mode to basically make myself immune to all damage and whatever but I don't want to rely on that. Inferiorix basically threatened to kill everyone if I don't comply with his demands. He needs me alive so that he can die. But that doesn't mean he won't make _others_suffer or send his cronies against us. He _knows_I'm hesitant about killing any of the leaders of Lexcia without some way to cushion the blow and I'm scared that he might just end up forcing my hand and killing them by dropping a mountain on them."

"You can do that?"

Payton gave the orc an exasperated stare and just by the smirk he got, he knew Ghorrend was playing coy with him. "I haven't tried yet but at the very least, I can drop thousands of knives on them." He turned back to the shower head as he washed his hair. "We don't have a solution right now and the clock is ticking." His paws closed into fists. "Inferiorix expects us to be doing something. Hagden has us by the short hairs as well. If we don't go to Kalastraad's Wastes and bring the goblins over, he'll bring down Gobhood on Avergreen. No matter what happens, a fight is coming and I want to be as prepared as I can be. There's no room for overconfidence."

Not to mention my powers aren't infallible. I can't use them on people who are too ingrained in this world and I can't even use them on Shades that are caused through the use of my powers.

Ghorrend shrugged his massive shoulders. "Alright, I suppose. But I'll tell you right now, I'm more adept with using as axe than that little toothpick you call a sword. You might want to get Durandal to help with that."

"I'll ask him too. I want to learn as much as I can from different people."

"Can't you just learn all of that with your powers?"

"Probably but there's a difference between reading something on a piece of paper and actually being taught through experience."

"Fair."

They finished up with their shower and donned their garments. As cliche as it as to wear exactly the same thing over and over again, Payton knew that Lexcia heavily focused on using the same equipment to improve its statistics. With a wave of his paw, he reset the durability of his clothes, instantly cleaning it of all grime and mess and put on the vest, pants, shoes and shirt. Alongside a dressed Ghorrend, they made their way out of what was being affectionately called the 'Homestead' - just one of the bigger homes in Avergreen - and back to the rebuilt town hall.

They weren't the first to arrive. Axter was already there naturally preparing tea and breakfast for everyone. The blue chimera set down some delicious raspberry muffins with tea for Payton and a hardier meal of eggs and sausages for Ghorrend. The rest of the council arrived shortly afterward.

"So where are we at now?" Carlisle declared noisily. "Weren't we all supposed ta be doin' our own things by now?"

That felt like a not-so-subtle jab at him but Payton let it slide. As much as he wanted to defend himself again the snide remark, he had more pressing matters to attend to.

"The situation has changed," Ichika said sharply. "Unless you somehow found some way to counter the powers of the Godmage himself, then I suggest you follow the advice I gave you last night and kindly hold your tongue."

Before things could devolve into another show like last night, Payton gently tapped his sugar spoon against the side of his teacup, calling the attention of the council. "Nothing has changed. I merely needed more time to come to terms with the new flood of information that has been given to us. My team will still head over to Kalastraad's Wastes. Ravenus and his team will go to Gobhood and sow doubt and disinformation. Ghorrend and his team will remain here and shore up our defenses."

"Really, boss?" Tartarius asked warily. "I'm all up for not caring what that suicidal ass does or says but isn't that a bit... I dunno... careless?"

"No," Payton replied. "Because Inferiorix unwittingly gave us confirmation of exactly how we can defeat the Speakers without causing mass destruction. Or at least how to limit the defenses the system placed around them." He took a sip from his tea. It was still horribly bitter but was getting better. Axter's cooking skills were improving. "Those with great influence or power are protected by Admin Rights. The system protects their place in the world from my powers so I can't just delete them or else something like what happened with Ghorrend's spectre might occur."

"From what you told us, fighting that thing was really tough," Ravenus mumbled. "I really wish we could have helped."

"It was my fight," Ghorrend grunted.

Payton rested his paw over the orc's briefly. "Our fight. I was that one that changed you. I bore responsibility for that." His eyes switched to Ravenus. "And I get where you're going, Rav. I can't just do that to someone like the Goblin Knight or Hagden. That thing was the culmination of every memory, thought and story of Gaolsheer ever told all over the world. If a shadow of someone on the level of a Speaker, Listener or a Reader were to get loose... I don't want to imagine the kind of destruction it'd cause."

"Good thing then you fought the shadow of a Level 20 crazy executioner," Durandal huffed.

"Exactly." Payton lifted a finger before Ghorrend could tear into the boar. "But that brings me to my point. All the higher ups are protected by Admin Rights. Protected by the positive view all the people have of them. But if we started to erode that support..."

"They would be vulnerable to your power!" Amberline exclaimed. She tilted her head to the side, pressing a finger against her lip. "But wait... You just said you didn't want a Shade to appear. Wouldn't doing what you did to Gaolsheer on the vulnerable Speakers do that?"

"If I wanted to change their species or alter their biographies," replied Payton. "But if I were to do something like, say, drop their Base Stats to something a little more manageable or reduce their Derived Statistics to zero, then they'd be easier to deal with one-on-one." He crossed his arms. "I can't do massive updates to them or risk a Shade. But if I drop their abilities to the point where they can be killed conventionally, then we'd have a fighting chance."

He turned his eyes towards Ravenus. "That's why you and your party really need to start putting doubt in people."

Gustva shook his head grimly. "That won't be enough. Support and public opinion is one thing but the people still sorely depend on the Speakers and Listeners for protection."

"True. That's why we'll be sabotaging the very thing that they supposedly specialize in."

There was a moment of silence as all eyes fell on the Dark Lord. Strange as it may sound but in between love-making sessions with Ghorrend, he had moments of clarity. Sure those thoughts were often derailed by the orc's insatiable appetite and his own repressed libido but the bursts of inspiration were enough to form a clear picture in his mind.

Post-nut clarity as they say.

"Another thing I'll have to thank Inferiorix for," he admitted, sipping his tea again. Though it was bitter, it was actually quite addictive. "Being idealistic and trying to save everyone_is stupid and naive. It's what disrupted Lexcia and made it the living hell that it is right now. At the same time, I can't kill _everyone and everything by killing the Godmage either." He set down his cup and shook his head. "No. Death is an inevitability and we need to find a balance between complete apocalyptic genocide and saving everyone."

He lifted his gaze, eyes hard like diamonds. "So what we are going to do is start sabotaging the Speakers. Show the world just how cruel and inhumane they are." His eyes went directly to Ravenus. "Start letting goblins loose_inside_ Gobhood. Have them escape or stage raids under the name of the 'Goblin Liberation Front' or something. Get the mindless goblins to form hordes and start wrecking up the place. Cast doubt into the Goblin Knight's ability to keep peace and order in his own realm. Start revealing Hagden's plots to do the very same. Maybe even pin it on him so people don't use his tools. Maybe make it look like a mechanical thing like because of intrinsic failures on Hagden's part, the goblins are getting loose and he's doing on purpose because he wants that. Start cutting the Head Chef's supply of goblins so he fails to continue feeding people his free food."

"And the Emerald Mage?" Axter asked.

"Sabotage the scrolls he makes to summon goblins or outright destroy them. Make him incapable of bringing goblins out. Not only will this help the war effort but it'll keep him occupied and cast doubt on his ability to provide goblins. People are going to get hurt. They're going to die. But also start recruiting others as well. Tell them about me. Tell them that if they willingly ally themselves with me, they will be spared but if they get in my way, I will show no mercy when I come knocking on their walls."

Ghorrend grinned broadly. "Damn. I'm liking where this is going."

"We'll take the next few days to fully prepare," Payton said. "Any resources any of you need for your constructions, let me know. I'll make it for you. Carlisle, get those Tower of Dominance built to protect Avergreen. I want a portable version as well and a miniaturized version that we can carry on our own weapons."

The architect jerked his head back in surprise. "What? Are ya crazy, boyo? If I do manage to make such a mad thing, it won't be able ta project a field more than a couple of feet!"

"That's the idea. I want a backup just in case we haven't weakened the Speakers enough by the time of the battle. We can't rely on my powers. Ultimately, we can't kill them with my powers either or we'll invoke some greater disaster."

Tartarius grinned broadly and slapped the architect across the back. "Don't worry, mate. I'll help you out! I've been working on my crafting skills, ya know."

The short, hairy man shot the rhino a foul look and mumbled something but didn't say much more.

"Durandal, Ghorrend, I'll need you to train me in the arts of combat. Axter, you'll teach me magic. Ravenus, the arts of stealth. Again, I can't rely on my abilities so if it comes down to it and we have to fight the Speakers in hand-to-hand combat, I need to be prepared."

His eyes drifted to Gustav. "I know this may be awkward to ask and against any oaths you've taken but -"

"As a doctor," the tall, stoic man said, "I am well versed in both venoms and poisons. I know of a few statistic-draining poisons that you can apply to your weapons that will aid in your battle. I can concoct some brews as well that can drive goblin-kind berserk."

Phew... Kind of creepy he knew where I was going but still!

"Thanks." He then turned to Amberline. "We'll need to use any other contacts you may have to help Rav."

"I can do more than that!" she exclaimed with a wink. "I can start songs, poems and plays! When I drop you off at Kalastraad's Wastes, I can start making my way to other villages and spreading word of the situation in Gobhood. We need to cast doubt in all the people of the province not just the capital."

"Good idea."

"Your soldiers will need training," Ichika said firmly. "Send any who would join us my way. I will make sure they are adequately trained."

"Actually, Ichika," Payton said sheepishly. "I was hoping you'd use any contacts in Gobhood you have as a Level 100 adventurer and see if we can recruit anyone to our cause. If we have any other adventurers on your level on our side, we'd be better off."

He didn't want to admit that he probably become a bloody smear on the floor if she trained him. Her cold exterior made her somewhat unapproachable and he was far more comfortable with Durandal and Ghorrend.

Her features softened and she gave him a gentle smile and a nod. "Ah. A far better use of my abilities than what I suggested. Little wonder you are our leader." She bowed towards him. "If I may offer a piece of advice, however." Her sable eyes locked with his. "Learn to focus and develop your strengths first before you start branching out into other fields. Instinct will drive us to rely on the familiar especially in the heat of battle. The last thing any warrior would want is to feel uncomfortable with their own blade."

Suddenly, Payton felt very awkward.

"Uh... Thanks." He turned towards the other, regarding each of them in turn. "That's all for now. You have your assignments. Let's make it work."

******

The rest of the day was spent preparing themselves for the trying times ahead. Payton quietly requested Axter and Ghorrend not to seek him out as he needed some time to himself. He used SetLoc to position himself outside of the city limits and wandered into the woods where he was sure no one could find him. Ichika's words stuck with him and as he drew Goblinfall he prepared himself for an imaginary battle. He quickly activated God Mode. Then he unleashed a flurry of attacks at an illusionary foe, using a combination of sword slashes and SpawnItem for ranged attacks.

The sun was starting to set when, drenched in sweat, he dropped the sword and gazed up into the starry night sky.

"Focus on what I'm good at huh?" he mumbled to himself. "Maybe I shouldn't be so worried that I don't have a level or access to any skills..."

Even with God Mode on, he was still limited by his own physical body. There would be ways to defeat him out of conventional battle. Someone could imprison him, restrict his movement or even rob him of his breath. As he currently was, he wouldn't last very long in a fight since he couldn't use any of his commands to heal himself.

His eyes fell on Goblinfall... and his eyes narrowed.

Durandal, meanwhile, checked his gear, polished his swords and reviewed the agenda for the coming days. He was interrupted by Ghorrend halfway through.

"Lord Rendshaw isn't going to respond well to a structured curriculum," grunted the orc.

"And you know him better than I?" snorted the boar, snatching the parchment away from the orc's grip. "I have been with him since the beginning."

"And yet, you have never slept with him once." That made Durandal go rigid. "I've seen the way you've looked at him. All four of you look at him with that longing. Well, maybe not Ravenus. He's like a puppy. He'll fuck if you ask him to and be glad for the experience."

Durandal spun around with a snarl on his snout. "You didn't!"

Ghorrend smirked at him, throwing a raised eyebrow into the midst. "And if I did?"

The former soldier rolled up the parchment in his hands, forced his anger down and channeled his fury into a single, accusing, pointed finger. "I refuse to rise to your bait. I will train Lord Rendshaw however he wants. If he doesn't respond to my training regimen, then you are free to train him however you want."

"Oh you can bet he'll like my training so much better. Every part of him gets a good workout, you know. Strength... Endurance... Dexterity."

Durandal slammed a fist into the table. "Say your piece, orc!" he bellowed. "We've decided we'll train him separately so if there is nothing else, get out!"

Suddenly, Ghorrend was upon the boar, pushing him against the wall with one arm pressing up against the wood frame beside him. The governor's features were steely and serious.

"That's not going to work," growled the orc. "We don't have the time to be playing tug-of-war with the Dark Lord's training. You were in that council chamber. You know we don't have the time and you know we can't rely on the Payton's powers for everything. If we do, it'll be Inferiorix's hell all over again only this time, it'll be the man we care about being imprisoned and wishing for death."

They were uncomfortably close to one another and Durandal was shaking. Not because he was afraid but because he was conflicted over pushing the orc away... or kissing him.

"What do you suggest then?" he grunted.

Ghorrend drew a little closer. "Either we come to an understanding on who is taking the lead on his training... or we find some way to come together and merge our styles." A lewd smile touched the orc's features. "Besides. I'm fairly sure you've been 'saving' yourself for the Dark Lord and it must kill you that I get to bed him first. I bet you're all blue-balled right now. So what do you say?" His surprisingly long tongue lanced out, brushing the sensitive pink flesh on the tip of Durandal's snout. "Wrestle for who gets to top?"

Durandal's conflict continued... for all of three seconds.

"No."

Ghorrend's features fell.

"Let's just fuck."

Far from the town, Amberline touched down on the smoldering ruins of Gaolsheer's hut. She transformed back into her human form as Tartarius slipped off her back and strode into the ruins.

"What exactly do you seek to find here?" she asked.

The rhino didn't respond at first as he cast his gaze around the area. Only when he spotted the corpse of the Shade did he respond.

"Where I come from, big boss battles like this that have some sort of deeper meaning tends to result in some sweet drops." He strode over to the strange, metal corpse of the Shade. "You guys were a little too preoccupied by Inferiorix's sudden appearance to loot the corpse but if I'm right, there might just be something here that we can use to tip the odds in our favor."

His hands brushed aside the ash covering the partially melted and cracked Goblinshredder. A short distance away was the corpse of the Shade. The black metal of the creature's body was odd but still ordinary metal as best as he could tell. Regardless, it might be worth something especially if crafted into something. There was a strange... sensation around it like it didn't belong to him.

"Huh... Must be soulbound or something..." A smile touched his features. "Bet I know who it does belong to." Then he thrust his huge hand into the very chest of the Shade causing Amberline to jump in surprise. A moment later, he pulled out the black 'core' of the Shade. "This will definitely be useful."

Standing, he grabbed the attached arm of the Shade and reached down towards the charred remains of Goblinshredder. "I've got everything I need. Let's head back."

"What do you intend to do with that?" Amberline asked warily.

He gave her a dark grin. "Can't have our esteemed Governor fighting with a piece of crap, can we? I purposefully made that axe was poorly as possible because I didn't trust the bastard. But now..." He shrugged and threw the corpse at her feet. "He's fairly decent. I have a feeling in the times to come, he's going to need something better to defend himself with. Besides, I've always wanted to make something out of someone's corpse."

Perched on one of the balconies of the town hall, Ravenus gazed wistfully out into the night. Nerves gripped him. This would be the first time he'd be some significant distance away from Payton. Even the short times when he was on patrol felt like an eternity when he was away from his Dark Lord. The wolf who had not only saved his life but showed him great affection. Payton truly cared for him and it scared him to not only be away while Payton was off in hostile lands but for the bat to be making his way into the heart of enemy territory to spread rumors and commit sabotage.

His keen ears perked up as he heard the familiar footfalls of Ichika Watanabe approach him from behind.

"Your expressive ears give too much away," she lectured calmly. "If you hear me, try not to move them. It will warn any potential assassins that you know of their presence."

Ravenus giggled softly, covering his muzzle with a hand. "Honestly, I don't know much about being an assassin or a rogue. It's just the class that was given to me. I'm learning." He gave her a bright grin. "Thanks for the advice though!"

Her expression was still and unreadable. "It will take time. Though I sense you are not too enthused about killing."

The bat slouched forward and let out a heavy sigh. "Honestly, no. I know it wasn't really said in the meeting but I got this feeling that we might have to take some people's lives to weaken the Speakers. I... I honestly don't know how to feel about that."

Ichika was silent for a long moment. Then she said, "Never assume that death is the only way to solve an issue. Similarly, never let anyone - not even our Dark Lord - force you to do something you are uncomfortable with. If we can solve an issue without delivering them to the afterlife, so much the better."

"Really?" he asked, glancing to her.

"Of course." A small smile touched her lips. "Why do you think I defected in the first place? I did not like how the Readers ran Lexcia. That is why I turned to Payton in the hopes that he will guide us into a better future." That smile grew ever so slightly broader. "I am happy to report that he is, thus far, exceeding my expectations."

He didn't want to repeat his 'really' question and puzzled over how to say it. Thankfully, the samurai was more than happy to elaborate.

"He is not so idealistic to think that he can save everyone. He understands the limits of his powers and knows that he cannot rely on them. While he is more than willing to take a peaceful option, he understands the casualties of war are inevitable." A soft smile touched her rosy lips and she lifted her gaze towards the starry night sky. "He also genuinely cares for those that earn his loyalty even going so far as to admit his own mistakes and fight alongside them against insurmountable odds. If a man like that can lead Lexcia, I am sure we have a bright future ahead of us."

Ravenus beamed and turned to look into the sky with her. "Yeah!"

Down in the town hall itself, Axter was hosting one of evening cooking lessons. Though he was not the best cook - yet - the blue-furred chimera understood that everyone needed to learn how to cook eventually. Payton was making a world where people needed to learn to take care of themselves. The absence of goblins in Avergreen also made it a necessity. Citizens were complaining, of course, but there were some who were more than happy to learn and relished the challenge.

"I dun see why this is necessary," grunted Carlisle as he waited impatiently for his serving. "Let's just get some goblins and have them do all this shite for us!"

There were a few people in the crowd who whole-heartedly agreed but still waited for their turn. Behind Axter, the volunteers were working hard to make sure the hearty soup was being prepared well and the bread was baking perfectly.

"A man's value is not judged by their wealth but by what they know."

The scathing remark came from Gustav who was expertly seasoning a dish. The doctor was surprisingly the best cook in all of Avergreen with his cooking skills completely maxed out. Axter had been learning under him. The chimera watched with fascination as the doctor with the think accent dashed some salt, rosemary and thyme into the lamb stew before handing it - stone-faced - to the next person in line.

"Whats that supposed ta mean!?" barked Carlisle.

Gustav threw him a chilling stare. "It means that if you were to throw two men, one capable but poor while the other is wealthy but incapable, into the woods without supplies and far from civilization, who do you think would survive?"

The squat architect rolled his eyes. "I see where this is going. Fine. The capable one would obviously survive."

"No. They would both survive or perhaps they will both die."

The answer surprised Axter and some of those listening in as well.

"The capable man might take pity on the wealthy man because he knows what it is like to suffer and toil on your own. He would share his bounty of the land with the wealthy and they might just survive. Conversely, the wealthy man might just try to kill the capable man in a desperate attempt to survive, thereby depriving himself of the only means to survive and perishing in the long run." He handed another seasoned bowl to another customer, making Carlisle next in line. "Do you believe that is the kind of world we should live in?"

"What're you talkin' 'bout? That ain't the world Lord Rendshaw is creatin'!"

"No but it is the world you are advocating with your words," Axter provided, curtly handed a new bowl fresh with soup and bread to Gustav. "The goblins are the poor man in the story. We are the wealthy. You would enslave them to give yourself a few more precious moments to live. Is that truly the world you wish? Is that the world that Lord Rendshaw envisions?"

Carlisle sighed and held out his hand. "Fine. It isn't. Now give me my soup."

Gustav held onto the bowl. "Do not be so dismissive. The lesson here is that the world is changing. We can no longer be complacent. One day, any of us may find ourselves stranded alone and with no one to rely on."

The doctor's expression darkened. Axter could only imagine how the glowering giant looked like from Carlisle's perspective who was already shorter than the average person.

"The question on your mind should be whether or not you are willing to kill the innocent for your own survival," continued the doctor, "hope you can work with someone else who is far more capable than yourself or take the time you have now_to learn a craft, learn how to survive and _instead_be on the side of the capable man. After all, I never said the capable man was not _also capable of killing the weakened, desperate, wealthy man for his arrogance."

Only then did Gustav hand the bowl to Carlisle.

******

"So there is something I don't get," Payton admitted, swinging Goblinfall absently through the air. The shortsword was a little heavy in his grip but he was getting used to the weight. He stood in the garden behind the Homestead with Durandal and Ghorrend beside him. The two were standing strangely close to one another and seemed a little more... amicable.

I wonder what happened.

"How exactly do you use Skills?"

The two burly men exchanged glances.

"Well..." Durandal began. "I guess the best way to describe it is the fact that you obtain skills through gaining experience and leveling up yourself and your equipment. When you unlock a Skill, it just becomes... I dunno... inherent. You sort of just... know it."

"It's like you get to know your weapon and equipment," Ghorrend added. "You discover a little about them, they become an extension of you. When you gain levels, you unlock these powers and can unleash them in different ways."

Wow... So in this world just leveling up grants you automatic knowledge of Skills...

Pity that doesn't work for me.

"And how do you trigger them?" Payton asked. He nodded towards Ghorrend in particular. "I've seen you basically teleport behind your foes and slash down at them. Do you call out the attack name or...?"

Please don't make me shout out my attack names...

"No," Ghorrend said with a shrug. "That's just stupid. You just trust your body, think about which Skill you want to trigger and then your body will know the rest."

Okay. So my body knows... Pity I don't have an actual class to rely on to know what Skills I'll get... But maybe...

He regarded Goblinfall. Since his recent battles, it had jumped up to a Level 10 weapon. It currently had the skill 'Green Horizon' and from what he could tell from his UI, it was 'two quick horizontal slashes that deals 75% damage each'. Turning away from the two, he prepared to swing the blade.

"Here goes..." he muttered to himself.

Green Horizon!

He swung the sword... and immediately became unbalanced and staggered back.

"Damnit..." he cursed.

"Don't over-think it," Durandal advised, stepping forward and lifting his longsword. "Just let your body do everything. Don't force it or else you might end up overwriting what your Skill is meant to do."

Alright... That makes sense, I guess.

He gripped Goblinfall tightly but left it hanging by his side.

Green Horizon!

...

Nothing.

"Maybe it'd be better if we showed you how we triggered skills," Ghorrend suggested, drawing his axe. "Durandal! Heads up!"

Suddenly, the big orc vanished, immediately appearing above and behind Durandal. The boar quickly ducked aside, rolling onto the ground with a snarl on his features. Payton got ready to step in only to realize the two were grinning at each other... almost like they were brothers playing.

What the hell happened between them...?

"Here's one of my own!" Durandal shouted. He suddenly swept his sword upwards in a sweeping uppercut. The notification box in Payton's eyes immediately notified him that the boar had used 'Rising Crescent'. Apart from the blast of dust that came from the sweeping attack, a compressed blade of air erupted in the shape of a crescent. It sliced through the air and just barely missed Ghorrend.

"Hey!" barked the orc. "We agreed no ranged attacks!"

A moment of relief washed over Payton.

Oh good. They were just coordinating how this training session would go and not doing anything weird.

Though to be honest, if things did get weird...

He shook the lewd thoughts from his mind and observed the two. Curiously, he noted that there was an extra bar beneath Ghorrend's health meter and this one was colored red instead of the usual green. It was only filled by about a sliver. Durandal didn't have such a bar.

"Hey Ghorrend," he asked. "Do you have some sort of secondary resource apart from your health for your attacks?"

The Berserker lost his smile for a second. "Of course." He straightened, hoisting his axe over his shoulder. "Advanced Classes and above draw on different wells of power from Base Classes. Most Base Classes only have their strength and personal endurance to rely on. Bersekers have Rage. It builds up from attacking and being attacked. I can use to for Berserker-exclusive attacks and to trigger my Berserker Rage. That'll drain my Rage gradually but give me increased defenses, increase my regeneration and empower my attacks."

"Since I'm more of a melee class I don't need to rely on any secondary resources," Durandal explained. "Most of my skills just need a moment to recover before I can use them again. Even magical classes like Axter's Mage can cast his spells at will as long as they have a proper amount of time to cool down."

Huh... This system gets more and more complicated the more I think about it.

"How do you know when your skills are on cooldown or when they're ready?"

Again, the two trainers exchanged glances like they were psychically trying to find the right answer.

"It's just a feeling, I guess," Ghorrend responded. "That and if we try to use it, we get a little announcement in our heads that says that it's not ready yet. As you get more experienced, you get used to how long something will take before you're ready to use it again."

They must have a notification window just like me.

"Do you... you have a little window at the bottom of your vision with empty boxes? Like a hotbar?"

"A what?" Durandal asked.

"It's like a bar filled with empty slots where you can throw shortcuts to your skills."

Ghorrend grunted as he got back to his feet. "That sounds stupid. I'd obscure your vision."

I suppose he's right there... So they don't have that. They must not have most of what I have in my HUD either.

"Let's focus back on the use of Skills," Durandal said, holding out a hand. "Did watching us show you how to use your Skills?"

Payton closed his eyes and lifted his sword to his right.

Green Horizon!

...

Still nothing.

"No," he sighed with a shake of his head.

"Maybe show him what it's like to use the skill," Ghorrend asked. "I'm more used to axes so I doubt I can use the sword."

Durandal agreed and took Goblinfall from Payton. "Here we go." With a cry, the blade of Goblinfall glowed a bright green and the boar swung it quickly from left to right and the right to left in rapid succession. The moment he finished the movement, the glow on the blade faded. "See? Easy."

Easy for you, maybe.

Payton was starting to feel incredibly incompetent. Even Tartarius who had come from a similar world like him had gotten used to using Skills.

I can't rely on my console commands all the time. I know Ichika said I should focus on what I know but if they're useless against the Speakers, what use am I?

He was handed the sword again and encouraged to try again. Again, he gripped the sword, holding it to his side, preparing to strike.

Green Horizon!

"Maybe your level isn't high enough," Ghorrend suggested. "You can't use the skills of any equipment if don't meet the level or stat requirements."

And that's the problem. I don't think I have a level...

Unless...

He lifted Goblinfall in front of him so that the weapon was pointing straight up. Focusing his vision on it, he brought up all its statistics. It was currently a level 10 unique sword with average statistics and the single skill assigned to it. There was nothing to indicate that it was restricted or he couldn't use the ability and yet he found himself stumped.

Ichika said to focus on my strengths... my strengths are console command so...

"UnlockSkill?" he offered lamely.

An error message flew in his console screen. All skills had been unlocked on the weapon so there was nothing left to unlock.

Damnit...

"Maybe let's focus on something else?" Ghorrend suggested, sensing his frustration. "What about that neat thing you did where you summoned copies of Goblinfall, had them fly by your side and then sent them flying at my Shade?"

He waved the comment away. "That was sort of a weird combination of my existing commands. It was a string of commands that was so wordy that it wouldn't be practical in the battlefield. It took me five seconds to get them all together. I only managed to get it all off because the Shade was distracted. It was really as much of an experiment as it was something cool."

When he was met with silence, he glanced at the two and noticed they were giving him blank stares.

"Basically instead of using one spell at a time, I combined a couple of them to make it look fancy," Payton said with a shrug.

Huh... maybe that's what Ichika was talking about.

Mean, these hotbar icons have got to be useful for something, right? Maybe... Maybe I can program macros...?

"That's still pretty amazing," Durandal said with a weak smile. "Perhaps you're more of a mage than a fighter?"

"Sounds to me like that's the case," agreed Ghorrend. "Let's get Axter -"

He held up his paw, indicating silence.

Let's see... Macros... Macros...

His eyes widened when he selected one of the hotbar icons and noted that he could customize it. A miniature menu appeared with the options to clear, reassign, lock or 'set macro'. He hit 'set macro' and he was given a notification that he was now recording a macro. Mind racing, he retrieving his location with GetLoc_then copied the _SpawnItem command, once again using some arithmetic to adjust the positions of the Goblinfalls right beside him. Before he committed however, he chained a _SetLoc_on each of the weapons. This all came as a single line command just like what he had used against the Shade.

The Goblinfalls are the topic of the commands... It'll spawn the item right beside my head and then SetLoc will get them to speed off in the direction I'm facing...

Here goes!

The moment he committed the command, two swords immediately appeared beside his head and then shot forward at lightning speeds. Both Durandal and Ghorrend jumped at the blades embedded themselves into the nearby wooden fence.

"Amazing!" exclaimed Durandal. "Who needs Green Horizon when you can do that!?"

Again, Payton held up a paw for silence.

There was now an icon in his hotbar.

Let's see if this works.

He triggered the icon and immediately, the sequence repeated. The blades appeared beside his head and immediately shot forward. Because he was still standing in the same place and looking in the same direction, they slammed against the hilts of the existing weapons and all four clattered to the ground.

Awesome! But wait. It might be a danger spawning items around like that everywhere...

He quickly adjusted his macro to wait a few seconds before causing the swords to immediately be deleted. While they did embed themselves in the fence again, after a few seconds, they immediately vanished. Ghorrend and Durandal watched in fascination as Payton practiced.

Just as he called the macro for a fifth time, Ghorrend let out a loud whoop, causing his case to turn. The swords immediately zoomed off towards the orc. Durandal barely had enough time to leap in front of the Governor and swat the blades away.

Oh shit!

"Sorry!" he exclaimed. "I'm still getting the hang of these!"

Ghorrend shorted and tapped Durandal's shoulder lightly. "I could've defended myself. Those things wouldn't have scratched me."

"You would've been skewered," grunted the boar. "We both know how much you like that."

Wait... Is there some sort of... sexual innuendo in that? Also, why are they ignoring me!? I nearly killed one of them!?

Payton sighed and turned back to his practice. He had to be careful. Because SpawnItem always generated the weapons right beside him unless he input a direction location and GetLoc got the point that he was looking at, no matter which direction he was standing, the swords would zoom off to the location he was looking. That would mean he could potentially accidentally skewer himself or someone he didn't intend if he wasn't careful. To that end, he adjusted the positioning of the swords so that they were slightly higher than his head so that even if he looked completely to his side, he wouldn't be giving himself an impromptu lobotomy by accident.

This could work.

But I need some sort of short-ranged attack now.

He lifted Goblinfall and held it directly to his side, about arm's length away. Using GetLoc twice, he got the difference between the two locations. Then he moved the sword until it was pointing straight forward. Again, he used GetLoc to retrieve the location. Lastly, he switched the blade to his other hand and again copied the location.

Alright... Here goes.

SpawnItem... SetLoc... SetLoc... SetLoc... Delete.

After setting the macro to record again, he invoked the command.

A instance of Goblinfall appeared to his right and then made a wide, sweeping arc through the air at high speeds around him, mimicking the mock swing he had made. Since only the X axis of the weapon was changing with no movement of the Y or Z, the sword remained hovering in the air as it swung. The moment it finished its movement, the weapon vanished. The two men watching remained silent but they were both beaming proudly.

It works! Okay, Green Horizon uses two swings so...

SpawnItem... SetLoc... six times... Delete.

Upon invoking the command, _Goblinfall_appeared to his right, swung around in an arch to his left and then flung back in the opposite direction before disappearing.

Durandal applauded. "That's Green Horizon! You did it, Payton!"

Not quite but it's close enough.

I can make it better.

"Watch this," he said with a cocky smirk.

This time, he chained the same series of commands and then copied them again only reversing the direction. When he invoked them, two Goblinfalls appeared on either side and swung towards the center.

Too late did he realize his mistake.

The two swords immediately collided in midair, smashing together and flying off in different direction. Pain immediately erupted in his left calf as the blade bit into flesh.

"Payton!" Ghorrend exclaimed, rushing forward.

The wolf fell to his knees, grasping the wound. Blood seeped between his fingers. "That... That was stupid..." he grimaced.

Durandal was by his side and already pulling out a healing potion he had stocked from Gustav. He pulled the stopper off the red bottle and offered it to Payton. The potion was sweet tasting but had a metallic edge that was pretty much like medicine. Much to his relief the wound began healing almost instantly, a soft green light emitting from the injury. Flesh and fur closed up but the blood remained.

"Thanks," Payton mumbled. "Guess I'll have to be more careful with the macros I build. Physics still applies."

Ghorrend gave him a snort and a light punch on the shoulder. "Not exactly how we normally develop skills but looks like you can make your own skills. Hell of a lot better than what we have to do."

"That's true," Payton grunted as he got to his feet. "Hey Ghorrend. Can you show me that move again where you appear behind people and strike them from behind?"

"Shouldn't you rest for a bit?"

"I'm fine. The potion did its work. Show me."

Ghorrend shrugged and turned towards Durandal with a nod. Both burly men stood up and turned towards one another. On command, Ghorrend drew his axe and in an instant, vanished, appearing behind Durandal to swing down with the sword. This time, Durandal, pulled out his greatsword and crossed them over his head, catching the blade and Ghorrend's weight with some effort. The boar's big muscles bunched as he pushed the orc back.

Through it all, Payton was paying close attention.

The problem with that attack is that there is a second delay before gravity takes over and Ghorrend comes down. A second is all it takes for a mage or someone quick enough to dodge...

So...

"I'm going to try something," he said. "Not going to use a sword. Get ready Durandal!"

The boar nodded grimly and held his sword easily in his four arms.

Here we go... SetLoc... Wait 0.5... SetLoc... SetLoc!

The world went black as Payton moved immediately into the space above and behind Durandal. The burly boar lifted his swords to defend... until Payton was immediately gone and appeared right in front of Durandal. His resident Brawler stalled and tried to defend until Payton disappeared again, this time directly behind the surprised boar but out of his line of sight. Payton playfully jabbed Durandal's side with a finger making the boar jump in surprise.

"Yeow!"

"Don't be such a pussy," laughed Ghorrend. "Our Royal Darkness just tickled you." He leaned down to Payton with a devilish grin. "He's very ticklish, you know."

Wait...

"How do you know that?"

Avergreen Governor didn't respond and just shot a blushing Durandal a broad grin.

Brushing aside the moment, he got up and turned to face his Brawler. "Okay. Can I see Rising Crescent again? That's going to be the challenge."

The Skill was not purely physical. It had some magical element in it that generated a compressed blade of wind. He wasn't entirely sure that was something he could copy through the console commands.

In theory... I should be able to. The console basically is the raw code of the world. Everything that happens is because of one of these commands. So I should be able to mimic it... somehow.

Durandal demonstrated Rising Crescent again, the compressed blast of air shooting forward before dissipating after a few yards. It was easy enough to mimic the sword being flung upwards in an uppercut but that air blade was the problem.

Maybe if I make it swing upwards really fast?

He tried and though it did make the sword sing through the air with an almost musical tone, it didn't mimic that attack.

"One more time?" he asked.

His resident Brawler was more than happy to demonstrate and he tried to focus on the blade of wind as it cut through the air. It was fast but he managed to get its details and a reference number.

Yes!

"Alright... Let me try this..."

He tried to spawn the reference number. Instead of a tall blade of wind, however, he just got a little sputter, a brief gust.

"What the hell?" Ghorrend asked. "That wasn't what Randal made at all."

Durandal growled at the orc. "I told you to stop calling me that, Ghorr."

"You've got to work on that bud. I like Ghorr."

He ignored their banter and rubbed his chin.

I did generate wind so that's something but I haven't been able to give it a direction. I think even if I used SetLoc, it won't be focused enough to really be like what Durandal generated.

"Hey guys," he began, interrupting the exchange between the two. "Is there some sort of... I dunno... Elemental enchantments on weapons? Like can you empower your weapons with fire or ice?"

The rivalry between the two immediately dissipated.

"Of course," responded the boar. "High class weapons often obtain their own elemental enchantments after some time or really skilled blacksmiths can imbue them with elemental energies."

"Usually really expensive, though," added Ghorrend. "Plus the downside is that most elemental weapons are less durable than non-elemental ones. All that energy is kind of rough on metal."

"Noted."

Payton regarded Goblinfall.

"SetElement," he declared. "Wind."

Harsh winds suddenly began swirling around the blade, twisting around its length in visible, silvery bands. Both his warriors gawked in surprise as he swung the blade. The weapon made sweeping arches through the air as he swung it, almost like the weapon's reach was extended.

"Tell me more about elements," he said.

Twelve major elements existed in Lexcia that could be infused into weapons. The four primary elements of Wind, Fire, Water and Earth were most common and most blacksmiths could forge equipment imbued with any of these elements. The more advanced elements were considered the 'cousins' of the primaries and thought of as being more advanced versions. They were Lightning, Plasma, Ice and Acid. Fewer blacksmiths could work with those kinds of elements and they were often very rare. Lastly, the four Master Elements were Divine, Necrotic, Psychic and Soul. They were trickier to use and only a master blacksmith could truly forge a weapon with those kinds of elements. Most adventurers found gear imbued with these weapons from raids into hostile territory. Rarely was gear ever made by a blacksmith with any of the four Master Elements.

"Every element has an effect on how gear works," Durandal lectured. "Wind elements generally increase your weapon's effective range while on gear, they make it lighter and you faster."

"Attacks that are elementally charged generally have a chance of inflicting some sort of debilitating ailment on a target," Ghorrend added. "I think Wind will make a target dizzy. Really disorients them and makes it hard to stand or attack. Never used it myself. I'm more of a standard steel and brawn kind of fighter."

"Like you'd be anything else," Durandal muttered.

"What was that!?" barked the orc.

Payton ignored their bickering again and returned to his now wind-charged blade. A swing upwards did cause a rising slash with a bit of wind and farther reach but it was not nearly as far as Durandal's Rising Crescent and didn't have the projectile properties. Any normal person would have been satisfied with his 'Blade Barrage' as he liked to call the first macro he created but if all he could do was mimic the effect of Skills instead of actually triggering them, he was going to learn as many of them as he could and utilize them.

I wonder... When I set the location of my blade, is it basing the location on the tip, center or base...?

As an experiment, he marked two positions in the ground by drawing a line with the tip of his blade. Durandal and Ghorrend were still arguing so they didn't notice him grab the locations of both lines and then set the sword down so that the tip was just touching the first line.

Here we go. SetLoc...

The sword slid across the ground until the tip _just_kissed the second line.

So it's the tip... Interesting. That means, if I...

He took a few steps back and then used _SetLoc_again but this time, changed the Y coordinates, again using a formula instead of a set value. The sword immediately stood up on end and pointed straight upwards. It collapsed a second later.

Okay... So what if I give it a series of locations...

He gave it eight coordinates and within moments, the sword was once again standing on end and then spinning around in a single circle based on an axis of its pommel.

That works. So now, if I...

He gave those eight coordinates and looped it five times. As expected Goblinfall sprang into the air and spun five times in rapid succession before again dropping to the ground.

Last thing to do...

For his last experiment. He started adjusting the X axis of the blade. The sword sprang into the air and as it spun, it moved away from him like a spinning, angry buzzsaw generating slicing winds shooting away from him. It only went about half as far as Durandal's _Rising Crescent_but it was a start. The biting winds of the elemental weapon added to its length and precision.

A few more adjustments and he was satisfied with his macro. When he invoked it, however, the sword that appeared was just a common Goblinfall.

Right, I charged the Goblinfall I had which was ordinary with the wind element. I didn't grab the reference of the new weapon.

Probably for the best.

He added the SetElement command to the start of the macro to make sure that the summoned blade had the same properties of Rising Crescent and then triggered it. A wind-charged _Goblinfall_appeared right in front of him and then spun straight forward, whipping winds as it went. A few yards away, it vanished, leaving no trace of its use.

Perfect!

"I may not be able to use true Skill but I can make the best of what I've got," he announced, placing his paws triumphantly on his hips.

Just like Ichika said.

Ghorrend placed a big hand on his shoulder, smiling proudly. "You really are special, Payton. I don't think anything_or _anyone would have ever done what you just did. I mean, you basically just created new skills! That's amazing!"

"No one has made any new skills?"

Durandal approached Payton from his other flank. "Legend has it that before the Readers, adventurers used to develop their own skills as they leveled up but these days, it isn't like that. The only new abilities are those the Readers get from killing Grigori."

Huh... I guess that makes sense. It's dark and depressing but makes sense.

"Anyway, it's lunch time," announced Ghorrend. He winked slyly down at Payton. "What do you say we squeeze a quick fuck session in the baths before Axter calls us?"

Heat immediately rose into Payton's cheeks. "W - W - What!? Ghorrend! Dude! Durandal's right here!"

"Silly me." The orc beamed suggestively at the boar. "If you want to invite him as well, we can do that."

Payton pulled away from the two, staring at them one after the other accusingly. "Okay. Seriously. What the _hell_is going on with you two?"

Both of them immediately replied with, "Nothing!" in unison though they delivered it differently. Ghorrend said it with a proud, lewd grin while Durandal averted his gaze and blushed.

Back on Earth, Payton was never one to pick up on social clues. One of the reasons why he rarely ever went out with any of his coworkers and had few friends. But he would not only have had to been completely blind but also had his head shoved up his ass not to read between the lines.

"Oh my god..." he gasped. "You two fucked!"

******

Orphan's arrival was immanent and Nevaught Killgreen was growing increasingly anxious about the impending visit from their esteemed Reader. Security was ramping up and it was much to his relief that there was no further disturbances from Avergreen. The issue still lingered but it would have wait until after the Reader's arrival. No one would be foolish enough to attack the height of Faoster's power while a Reader was present even if a Dark Lord was involved.

Still, he was a little anxious.

A knock came to the door of his study and the Goblin Knight looked up. His personal squire, Verinas Ebonblade, poked his head in. The young man had grown on him and it brought him a sense of pride and joy to see the newly-named warrior grow into the strong, responsible adventurer that he was now. Unlike some heroes he could name.

"Lord Killgreen?" began Ebonblade. It had taken him the better part of the week since the boy had won the tournament to get him to refer to him as anything other than 'The Goblin Knight'. "The Greensmith is here to see you."

Hagden Hoblood. Nevaught rarely enjoyed the company of his fellow Speakers but he despised Hagden above all else. He was fairly sure it was the Greensmith who had been setting goblins all over the province free just to harvest their organs for more of his dark works. The precious system he had worked so hard to create; the subjugation of the goblins that kept the race alive while maintaining stability all over the region. No more Goblin Kings. No more raids on helpless villages. Everyone was taken care of.

And Hagden would ruin all of that just for a filthy, black goblin heart.

"Show him in," the Goblin Knight sighed.

Verinas stepped aside, saluting bravely as he pushed open the door. Hagden stepped in, smiling warmly but his beady eyes always scheming.

"It's late, Hoblood," Killgreen grunted. "What do you want?"

"I was just checking on how preparations were with Orphan's impending arrival," replied the Greensmith curtly. "I've been working my ass off making sure all of your men's equipment were in top shape that I just wanted to make sure they were going to be put to good use and on show for our esteemed Reader."

"Yes, yes," he answered with a dismissive wave. "Your best gear is being given to Lord Faoster's best and brightest. They will be front and center when Orphan presents the new Reader to Gobhood."

"Good. I was wondering if you wanted me to look at _your_equipment as well. We don't want Orphan to see the tattered armor of yours, do we?"

"Every dent on my armor and chip on my weapon is a badge of honor," he countered, resisting the urge to rise from his seat. "I will bear them with pride and if Faoster or Orphan himself deigns it necessary to reprimand me on the maintenance of my equipment, then I will gladly requisition you myself to have it repaired. No sooner."

Hagden casually lifted his big, hairy hands into the air and shrugged. "Very well. No need to get defensive. I was merely trying to do my best as a Speaker to ensure everything is in place for our dear Reader's arrival."

Killgreen sighed and relaxed a little. "I apologize. It has been a while since Orphan has presented a new Reader and I am somewhat... anxious to ensure that everything returns to a degree of normalcy. Even something as minor as that attack on Avergreen would have easily been brushed aside by now but its proximity to Orphan's presentation has left me feeling on edge."

The Greensmith's eyes twinkled. "What makes you say that the Avergreen incident is 'minor'?"

The Goblin Knight's eyes narrowed. His counterpart knew something. "I will not play games with you, Hagden. If you know something about Avergreen you will tell me here and now."

Hagden feigned surprise even going so far as to press a hand against his broad chest and bat his eyes. "What could I, a mere blacksmith, know more than the esteemed Goblin Knight, leader of the entire province's knights and sole defender of the peace second only to Lord Faoster."

Verinas suddenly stepped forward. "You will _not_talk to Lord Killgreen that way!"

The Greensmith's toothy grin gained a sinister edge as he appraised the young squire and then turned his gaze back towards Nevaught. "What's this? A new pet? Why, I don't see any scars or bruises on this one, Killgreen. Could it be that you are softening up your approach? Perhaps trying honey instead of vinegar? What will the nobles say?"

To his credit, Verinas stood his ground and even lifted his chin a little in defiance to the Speaker. The boy was loyal and that loyalty made him carelessly brave. "I am not like one of the goblins Lord Killgreen must discipline and train so that they are housebroken! I am an adventurer that he has graciously taken under his wing!"

"Under his wing, you say?" Hagden's grin grew broader. "So how many times has he pleasured you in bed?"

WHAM!

The lamp on Nevaught's desk rattled, his mailed fist still shaking. "That's enough. Both of you." He pointed a finger at Hagden. "You will not disrespect me in my house." Then he turned that finger to Verinas. "I will deal with you later. You do _not_speak to a Speaker that way regardless of who has your backing."

All the blood drained from Verinas' face. "Y - Y - Yes, Lord Killgreen." He bowed respectfully and retreated. "I am sorry."

Nevaught turned his gaze towards Hagden. "Say your piece and then be on your way."

The cruel smile on Hagden's lips never left. "Very well. You saw what happened at Avergreen. That was no simple Grigori pretending to play the Dark Lord. I have it on good authority that he is_the Dark Lord. I know because I met him. It's too late now to pull resources to attack Avergreen as Orphan is due to arrive soon. However, it would be a _shame if anyone were to whisper in the dear Reader's ear that you, the one in charge of our realm's security, was negligent enough to let the _Dark Lord_fester and thrive within our own territory. The scandal would be... disastrous."

Verinas looked about ready to speak but Nevaught threw him a fierce stare, stopping the squire in his tracks. "What do you want, Hoblood?"

"Nothing but some peace of mind and the safety of our beloved realm. I have it on good authority that the Dark Lord will be heading north to Kalastraad's Wastes. If I were to guess, he will be seeking to make an alliance with the goblins there."

The Goblin Knight noted the look of confusion on Verinas' face. The boy was far too expressive for his own good. Innocent. Naive. That would have to change.

"That's suicide."

"I know," laughed Hagden softly. "And yet, were he to succeed, he would have the biggest goblin army in all of Lexcia at his fingertips. You can rest assured that he will bring that all to bear on Gobhood."

For all his flaws, Hoblood did care for Gobhood. With a sigh, the Goblin Knight sat back down on his chair and closed his eyes, briefly thinking strategy. "Do you know when he will be bringing his forces here?"

"Likely after Orphan's departure. Even a Dark Lord fears the might of a Reader. We could delay the Reader..."

"No. That would smear Lord Faoster's reputation. Especially since we have not briefed him of this... development. No. Aldurin and Daronllier will be back from the Wastes in a few days and I suspect they will make every effort to be here before Orphan arrives."

"Of course. A feast befitting the Reader requires nothing but the finest of meats."

"Indeed. Regardless, we will be back at full force by then. We will keep Orphan ignorant of this development and deal with it on our own. We need not bother the Reader or even the Listener of it. Should the Dark Lord dare to bring the Waste's goblins to our doorstep, we will be ready to meet them. Otherwise, when Orphan leaves, we will send a large contingent of men to see him off to the border. Then, those very same men will go to Avergreen and raze it to the ground."

"A brilliant strategy," Hagden said with a shrug. "Maintain peace and order while sending a warning to the Dark Lord. You do not fear we will antagonize him?"

"If he's smart, he will return to the Wastes and stay there. Otherwise, if he still dares to attack us, only then will we inform Faoster and bring our defenses to bear. No one else needs to get involved beyond that."

Hagden shrugged. "You are the military leader. I defer to your expertise in these matters." He turned to leave, waving a hand over his shoulder. "I'll leave you to make preparations. I'll look into making the best gear I can with what little materials I can to ensure that your men are more than capable of fighting the Dark Lord's forces. Or at least delaying him. I doubt your men would be capable of much more than that without my craftsmanship."

The Greensmith left, shutting the door with that last snide comment about his troops still lingering in the air.

"That asshole..." growled Verinas. "How did he ever become a Speaker!?"

"He is one of Lord Faoster's oldest friends," answered Nevaught sourly as he rose to his feet. "That is neither here nor there. We have bigger matters to attend to."

Verinas nodded, eyes still at the door. "Indeed. If the Dark Lord really is mustering his forces... We must be ready."

"That is not what I meant."

The young adventurer turned and was surprised to find Nevaught looming over him. "M - Milord?"

"You spoke rudely and out of turn to a Speaker. That cannot be allowed to go unpunished." The Goblin Knight cracked his knuckles beneath the mail of his gauntlets. "Just remember, Verinas, I am doing this for your own good."

******

It took five days but eventually, Payton was comfortable enough with his new macros and 'pseudo-skills' to leave Avergreen for Kalastraad's Wastes. Even on Amberline's back, it would take two days to cross the vast distance to the north. They had to stop every few hours of hard riding even after Tartarius had crafted a saddle to allow three people to ride the Elder Dragon. When the sun started to set, Payton would write down their location in his makeshift Grimoire, sketch a little drawing and then teleport them back to Avergreen where they could sleep soundly, eat well and rest properly before teleporting back to the previous location and resuming their trek first thing in the morning.

The stark differences between the prosperous lands of Faoster and the Wastes was striking.

Faoster's lands were green, vibrant and full of life but when they crossed into the Wastes, everything was a dark, almost black green. There were cracks in the ground emitting a foul, green light. Such cracks crawled up dead trees, piercing through their bark. A low, green mist hung in the air, ruffling the darkened grass like the foul breath of a slumbering monster. Though much smaller than Faoster's Province, there were still smaller towns here and used the same malevolent, green energy to power its lamps and structures. Amberline steered clear of them all.

It was around midday when they arrived at Kalastraad's capital.

Enormous, black, high walls barred the outskirts of the city. Tightly packed home illuminated by that same green light littered the streets while massive war engines and watch towers dotted the walls. At the very back of the city, perched in the center of what looked like looked like a crater was an enormous dark palace complete with twisted towers and that same, foul green energy emanating from cracks in the structure.

Amberline set them down near the enormous gates.

'This is as far as I can take you,' the Elder Dragon said through the Guild Chat. 'There is a foul energy in the air. More than just what I felt since we entered these lands. Be careful.'

Payton gently pet her nose and she nuzzled him affectionately. "Don't worry about us. We'll be fine. You take care as well. Keep in touch."

She used the 'Teleport to Player' function in the Guild Menu to immediately return to Avergreen. The first thing Payton did was take note of their location and quickly write it down in his Grimoire. With Axter and Durandal beside him, the three of them strode towards the enormous, black gates of Kalastraad's capital.

Goblin guards dressed in black and green armor greeted them, wielding polished spears. Payton could sense the eyes of at least a dozen more on the battlements leveling ranged weapons at them. A quick glance at their stats confirmed what Hagden had claimed; these goblins were _all_Level 100. Far beyond Durandal's Level 7 and Axter's Level 8.

"Halt!" exclaimed one of the goblins, the one wearing a large, feathered helmet and he assumed was the leader. "Who are you to come riding on an Elder Dragon and marching to our lord's palace?"

He was right. They're intelligent.

Damnit... that just makes what they did to the goblins in Gobhood so much more horrendous.

"My name is Payne Red," he announced, using the same alias he had given back in Gobhood. "I am the Dark Lord. I have come to speak with your master, Kalastraad."

The goblins glanced at their leader who regarded Payton with a skeptical look. "The Dark Lord, you say? You would not be the first in the long history of these Wastes to come to our doorstep claiming that you are the Dark Lord. Many Grigori believe themselves to be such. Prove yourself and we'll consider your request to parlay with King Kalastraad."

Thankfully, he had been preparing for this.

He held up three fingers. "Choose one of the three. Wealth, power or eternal life."

The goblin leader scoffed, nudging his fellow goblins mockingly. "Very well. Eternal life it is."

Payton closed his eyes with a sigh. "You disappoint me. So much so that I will demonstrate to you all three. First, your request. A demonstration of eternal life. Durandal?"

The multi-armed boar pulled his massive greatsword from over his shoulder, immediately causing the goblin to go on edge. He immediately swung it at Payton. The blade struck the wolf's neck but didn't do anymore than make a soft, dull sound that reverberated across the road. The gentle white light of God Mode encased the wolf.

"Now, a demonstration of wealth," Payton said, lifting a paw into the air in the direction of the goblins. Durandal sheathed his blade just as Payton invoked the GiveGold command on each of the goblins in front of him. There was half a dozen of them and when thousands of gold pieces started pouring out of their pockets and filling every crevice of their armor, they screamed in terror. Coins spewed from their pouches, bursting immediately within second and pooling around their feet. The weight of the gold immediately pinned them to the ground and the rising pile threatened to drown them in coins. Thankfully, it stopped just as the pile reached their neck.

"And finally, a demonstration of power." Payton turned his lifted paw into a quick snap of his fingers.

The gold coins immediately dissolved into dust, freeing the goblins and leaving them gasping for breath.

"Would you like any _further_demonstrations?"

The leader of the goblins raised his hands in surrender. "No! No Your Darkness! We believe you! We will send a message immediately King Kalastraad and -"

"That will not be necessary," Axter said, right on cue. "Open the gates and we will make our way to his palace post haste. If you would be so kind as to escort us, I'm sure my lord would appreciate a tour of your fine city."

The goblins once again turned towards their leader. "O - O - Of course, Your Most Deepest of Darknesses."

That's a new one...

"I shall send a message immediately so that His Majesty can prepare a fitting welcome for you while I take you on a tour personally. Please, right this way."

The goblin shouted for the gates to be opened. With something that was almost twenty storeys tall, the gates took a surprisingly short amount of time to swing open. The goblin himself escorted the small party through the streets of the city while a messenger immediately scurried off towards the castle.

The streets were surprisingly clean. The near perpetual twilight of their surroundings caused by thick clouds and distant green lightning cast a dark shadow on every corner but the streets themselves were well-maintained and the buildings quite sturdy. Everything seemed to be powered by the mysterious green energy that was emanating from every lamp, house and shop.

'Hey Axter,' Payton began through the Guild Chat. 'Mind asking what's up with all the green light?'

'I have been wondering that myself,' admitted Durandal. 'It is... unnerving.'

"Sir Goblin," began the chimera curtly. "I wonder, what is this green energy that seems to course through every mechanism through your fine city?"

Really playing up the curt butler there, Axter...

The goblin coughed nervously. It was clear he was a little fearful of their present company. "It is the power of our Speaker, my good sirs. In ancient times, King Kalastraad was actually a Speaker of Gobhood but he defected and founded the Wastes after seeing the cruelty that was inflicted upon the goblins by Faoster the Fel."

That's not how Hagden tells it...

"His power as Speaker provides for us."

'Almost seems like Kalastraad hasn't changed,' Axter said bitterly. 'Just like in Gobhood, everyone is dependent on the Speaker.'

Payton could only agree and he feared what that would mean for their chances of an alliance. 'Seems that way.'

After a few more minutes of awkward, silent walking, Payton noticed that there were few goblins on the streets. When asked why this way, the goblin mentioned that it was that time of the month when no goblin wanted to be out on the streets. When probed further, he mentioned that it was not his place to say and deferred to Kalastraad.

All is not right here in the Wastes...

"What is your name, Sir Goblin?" asked Axter out of the blue.

"Ah... Well... I am Kartuur."

'They have names!' exclaimed Axter. 'I suspected as much but I had to make sure.'

'That means they're not just average grunts,' Durandal surmised. 'They are on the level of Level 100 heroes. That's... concerning.'

'Their gear is pretty generic, though,' Payton observed. 'Not named. Mostly Uncommon and Common. Level 100, yes, but I think that's because they were built by another Level 100 goblin. Only one skill attached and fairly average stats.'

That painted the picture of the Wastes certainly not being as powerful as Gobhood in many ways but a full-on assault between the two forces would lead to countless casualties on both sides. Again, that lowered their chances of convincing Kalastraad to join forces with them. It all hinged on so many moving parts that Payton felt his confidence slipping away.

No. Not now. We can do this. Believe in your people. Don't be like Inferiorix.

It took them a good hour of walking through the streets before they approached the palace. Something that he hadn't seen from high above was the large vats of thick, glowing green liquid that was pouring out of the palace. Kartuur mentioned that this was the gift that Kalastraad gave to them and how they powered their society.

God, I wonder what it is this time. Level 100 goblin blood? Processed goblin babies?

It was much worse.

They were brought to the audience chamber of the palace and there, he laid eyes on Kalastraad... and two other towering people.

Perched on a large, black throne with countless tubes sticking out of his flesh and siphoning out the glowing green liquid was the former Speaker. He wasn't human... at least not entirely. A withered torso of a man with wispy, long, blonde hair dominated the being on the chair. Sunken brown eyes were still sharp and bright but the weight of the crown on his head was almost too much for his neck to keep upright. His body showed signs of his former strength as the muscles, though severely degraded, held whispers of the strong man he used to be.

From the waist down, however, he was no longer man.

Kalastraad's torso was jutting out of the torso of another creature - a big, obese goblin that was slouched on the throne with his rolls of fat seeping out over the armrest of the throne and his thick, fat legs practically merging together. The goblin in question had his head rolled to the side, eyes gazing off into the distance, milky white... dead.

What the hell...?

Durandal drew his swords and even Axter was on edge, his snake tail hissing.

'What? What's going on?' Payton asked.

'It's those two beside him,' answered Axter. 'They're the Head Chef of the Greenworks and the Emerald Mage.'

Payton's heart sank.