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How To Use Console Commands

Chapter 2

After shaking off the shock of Ravenus and Durandal's transformations, Payton Rendshaw found himself with the stunning realization that his powers had far more wide-reaching consequences than merely editing someone's character sheets. By transforming his two comrades into real characters, he had elevated from them from nameless faces in the background to something more. It made him wonder other effects his other commands could do apart from what was described in the help menu.

"We woke up like this," Ravenus said, placing his hands on his hips and beaming brightly. "Well, I woke up like this first and then I saw how Durandal was spooning with you and how he had changed too. I thought about seeing what had changed and wanted to step out but then Durandal woke up."

"We both decided not to wake you while we examined our new physiques," explained the big, four-armed boar. "So we stepped outside. These bodies are surprisingly durable so we could leap down from the opening in the tower wall."

Ravenus spread his wings. "I got to use these! Still getting used to them though!"

I guess they don't come equipped with knowledge on how to use their bodies immediately. Makes sense.

"I'm... I'm going to need some time to process all this," Payton admitted. "I didn't think what I did would fully change you like that." A growl from his stomach indicated that he needed nourishment. "How about we have breakfast first?"

They returned to the tower where Durandal started a fire and began cooking the venison from the previous night. While they waited, both men described how they tested their new bodies and their varied results. Since Durandal hadn't really changed that much, he reported that while he felt a little slower, he was definitely stronger. Ravenus was unused to his wings and had to remind himself to fold them while moving but he was nonetheless happy with his transformation.

By the time breakfast was ready, they were ready to move on to the next topic: what to do next.

"We should go back to the overturned wagon and see if we can scavenge some supplies if it hasn't already been raided," Ravenus suggested. "The guy you killed dropped his arms and armor. It might be useful."

"The equipment might be a bit too high level for us to use," Durandal warned. "But it's worth a shot."

Payton's ears perked up in interest. Through a mouthful of cooked venison, he asked, "Equipment has level restrictions?"

"Level, race and sometimes other special restrictions. Neither of us can probably wear the armor because of our builds. We might be strong enough to wield the weapons but without appropriate Equipment Levels or even Class Levels, we might not be able to use them well. At most, they might just be blunt instruments to hit someone with. At worst, they'll burn us if they have enchantments."

Equipment such as arms and armor had their own skill trees and each was unique to each kind of equipment. Even a simple butcher's knife could have specific skills that are developed through continuous use of the equipment. Simple tools would have associated skills. Most people couldn't activate them, however, unless they were specifically taught by someone who did know. Most soldiers in the various militaries knew how to use their Equipment Skills because a Speaker taught them how. Of course, this meant that switching weapons meant having to start at level 1 with that particular equipment but, at the very least, one would have all the level requirements to use the equipment at its most basic.

The example Durandal gave was a simple yew shortbow. Any average person would be able to fire arrows from it. Over time and with use, the bow would gain its own experience and eventually unlock Equipment Skills. Generally, only those with names would be able to identify them but once identified, if taught to an unnamed, anyone would be able to use said special abilities. However, if they picked up another shortbow, even if it was still made of yew and made by the same weaponsmith, it would start back at Level 1 and they'd have to learn the skills associated with it all over again. The skills, however, could be entirely different from the first weapon.

"That's why most adventurers tend to keep their weapons for as long as possible before selling them off," explained the boar, clearly speaking from his experiences with the army. "The Equipment Levels stay with the equipment once unlocked. So I could level up the bow to its absolute maximum and then hand it to you. As long as you meet the Character Level requirements and I teach you how to use them, you could use those same skills."

I see. So it's like equipment are characters of their own. They gain levels along with the character.

"Can weapons be reforged or improved to unlock further skills?"

"Of course. Just like us, most weapons have five levels with limits placed at every 20 levels. You'll have to find a blacksmith or someone to improve the weapon so that you can break that limit and improve it to the next set. The weapon will naturally evolve afterward."

"That's so amazing!" Ravenus exclaimed, his eyes sparkling in excitement. "I'll find the most powerful weapon there is and make it as strong as possible!"

As amusing as that was, there were limitations on weapons and often times, even if someone were to find the 'most powerful weapon' statistically, another weapon with better skills could outstrip it if improved enough. Similarly, someone could create a copy of the weapon and they could potentially have different skill sets offering differing ways of using them.

The levels of customization here are insane...

His thoughts wandered to the knife he currently held which was thus far used for carving up the meat.

I wonder...

Thanks to his UI being enabled, when he focused on the knife he learned that it was simply called 'Old Knife'. He was shown its statistics in a small dialog box. It did pitiful damage - just 0.5 - and gave no bonuses. It was ungainly, slow and had poor durability - durability which was currently down to 5 out of 50.

A quick scan of his commands for anything related to durability revealed the 'MaxDurability' command and its counterpart, 'MinDurability'. There was also AddDurability and SubDurability which would allow him to add and subtract to the durability statistic respectively including affecting the maximum amount. Not sure how pushing durability past its maximum would affect an item, he used the MaxDurability on the knife. There was a soft, silver sheen on the weapon. The wooden handle became polished as if it were new and the blade was sharp and unmarred.

The weapon damage also jumped up to 1.

Huh... So durability impacts damage values. Probably the same with armor.

There were also two other values that he was interested in. The Level and EXP of the knife. The level was naturally at level 1 and the EXP was at about a quarter of the way filled up. Clearly, this particular knife was of no use to whomever lived in this tower and was left behind for that very same reason.

"How do you improve the level of equipment?" he asked. "Do you have to kill things?"

"It helps," Durandal responded with a shrug of his massive shoulders. "But generally, you just have to use it. Practice with it. For weapons, you can swing it around. Armor, carry it around. Magical items... I guess use magic with them. Of course they level up faster when you get into fights but just using them will help."

Payton narrowed his gaze on the knife, keeping an eye on the EXP value.

"SpawnItem..." he announced and a second later, a second knife appeared on the table beside him. The statistics of the knife were exactly the same... including the EXP value.

Interesting. So while most people in this world could create items that would have different statistics and start off at Level 1 when it's first created, I can clone it completely including the experience points.

Good to know.

"We should still go get what we can from the wagon," said Ravenus, rising from the table. "Durandal, if you wanted to come with me?"

Durandal agreed and told Payton to stay in the tower for the moment. Though he hated to be left alone in this unknown world, Payton wanted some time to experiment with his new abilities and he escorted the others through the tower and let them head off back towards the wagon. Once alone, he returned to the tower interior and picked up the two knives he now possessed.

"There's on big problem here," he said aloud. "I don't have a class."

Though he indeed had a name, he wasn't sure if he fit in within the normal rules of this world. Maybe he was a Reader but he was a Reader with little knowledge of what he was doing and what his abilities were. But if he wasn't and he was just a Grigori, even if he did have a name, he didn't ascend like Ravenus or Durandal. Could he even gain experience points and improve his abilities? Would he be able to wield weapons? The knife itself was fairly basic so he was sure anyone could wield it.

He grabbed the knives, one in each hand, and began swinging them absently through the air, trying to get a feel from them. If he had to defend himself in any situation, he would need to get used to their weight and sharpness. As he did so, he paid close attention to the experience bar. Much to his surprise, it was slowly creeping upwards.

Okay... so maybe I can gain levels. Maybe.

Then a thought occurred to him.

What if...?

Grabbing one of the knives by the handle, he lifted it over his shoulder and then threw it the wall. It predictably crashed against the stone wall, spewing a few sparks as it did so. Given the cheap materials and the low level, the knife snapped in two and its durability immediately went to zero. Without skipping a beat, Payton took the other knife and threw it as well. Just as the second knife left his fingers, he used the 'SpawnItem' command and a third knife appeared in his free paw. The second knife shattered against the wall and he was already throwing the third knife after it.

"Heh," he exclaimed, pleased. "I think I can make that work."

Using MaxDurability on the now broken knives encased them in a bright silver light and they immediately repaired themselves, the shattered pieces slipping back together like a self-solving jigsaw puzzle. Their experience bars improved slightly. It was a pity they each had individual experience bars or else he could have exploited his multiplication ability to rapidly accelerate their experience gain. Though when he thought about it...

Oh, there you are.

The SetLevel command. It would allow him to manually set the level of any equipment he possessed. There was also the AddEXP command which would funnel a set amount of experience into the equipment or character as he saw fit. As an experiment, he used SetLevel on one of the knives, immediately improving it to Level 20. The simple, discarded kitchen knife blazed with a fiery white aura before its blade obtained intricate, leaf-like carvings. The damage jumped up to an amazing 5 and it felt so much lighter now in his grip. Three skills unlocked immediately though they didn't seem combat oriented. One was simply to cut through bone with ease, another ensured that it wouldn't lose durability when cutting meat of any sort and the last lowered its weight by half.

With a grin, Payton threw the weapon at the wall just like many times before.

Clang!

It immediately bounced off the wall, clashed against a corner and then came hurtling back towards him!

He let out a yelp and ducked, tail between his legs. A loud thud announced that the knife had buried itself into the wooden shelf behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, it still vibrated in place. Half of its durability had been consumed with that stunt.

"Okay... Shit... No."

Payton grabbed the knife from the shelf and immediately set the level back to 1. Lesson learned. He needed to earn those levels and learn how to use the weapons gradually. Jumping straight up to the most powerful level could lead to him being careless and potentially hurting someone he didn't intend to... like himself. At the very least he had a sort of preview of the skill that it would contain.

While Durandal and Ravenus were still out scouting, he continued to experiment with the knives, swinging them around and pretending he was in battle. By the time he heard his two companions shouting at him from the outside, he had gotten the knives to level 3 and had unlocked its first skill - Bone Cutter. Curiously, the skill had its own experience bar.

This must be the Skill Levels that Durandal mentioned.

He stepped back out of the tower and found his friends carrying a fair bit of equipment. Durandal had retrieved the cloak of the fallen shoulder and draped it over his shoulder to offer some degree of clothing. Ravenus explained that the heavy armor of the soldier was too cumbersome for any of them to wear and had such high requirements that none of them would be able to wear it. That said, the bow had similar requirements but he could use it at its most basic level until such a time that he was strong enough to fully utilize its skills. It was a level 16 Gobhood Yew Bow. Durandal sported a Level 16 Gobhood Soldier Longsword in one hand and a Level 16 Gobhood Soldier Shortsword in the other.

Wait a second... they can see the requirements for the equipment.

"Ravenus," he began, "I don't suppose you can see what level I am, can you?"

The bat regarded him quizzically. "You mean you can't?"

"I... I'm new, remember. How do you see it?"

Holding out a hand, he held up his palm directly to his own face. "I just do this. I see all my stats and abilities. I guess you can call it a 'menu' of sorts." A quick look at Durandal revealed that was exactly how the boar saw his own sheet as well. "It's how the adventurers I met always said they saw their own abilities and swapped out skills."

"I need to ask you about skills but first..." Payton held up his paw in front of him just like how Ravenus had done... but found nothing appearing. He waved his paw over his eyes a few times but to no avail.

Maybe I need to shut off my UI?

Even after disabling his UI, he was still unable to view his own character sheet. With no reference number, he found himself a mystery.

"Maybe it's just something unique to the Dark Lord," chortled Durandal. "You're 'Dark' because no one can know your abilities or stats."

"You mean you can't either?"

"No one can know one another like that. That's like peering into another's very soul."

Oh...

Considering how he had done just that the previous night, it started to lend credence to the theory that he was the Dark Lord that was prophesied to end the world.

"Don't worry about it," he said, shaking his head and quietly enabling his UI again. "Can you tell me about skills?"

Skills were unique abilities obtained from two sources, Character Classes and Equipment. As a named individual leveled up in their chosen character class, they would obtain skills that were unique to said class but naturally shared with anyone else that used the same class. Every Brawler would share the same skill tree with other Brawlers as would every Rogue, Mage or Archer with others of their class. Equipment Skills, however, were unique to one's devotion to their equipment. Since Equipment Skills were unique to each different instance of that equipment, no two swords could ever possess the same skill tree. Equipment Skills were also only active while said equipment was actually being worn or wielded while Character Skills were always active.

"The more you use your skills, the more powerful they become," Durandal lectured. "Skills cap off at certain levels depending on the equipment as well. My sword could cap off its first skill at level 20 but someone else's sword with the exact same build and name could go up to 30 or something like that."

Right... Makes sense. But my biggest problem is that I have no idea what kind of Character Skills I have... I don't know what Class I am or even if I have a Class.

Then again, I have my console commands...

Ravenus was jumping back and forth. "I want to try leveling up! Fight me Durandal!"

The big boar sighed heavily and shook his head. "I'd rather not."

"Why noooooot?" whined the bat.

"First, you have a bow and I have swords. You already have the range advantage. Secondly, you don't have any arrows."

Payton regarded Ravenus curiously and noticed that the tall, lean bar indeed did not have any arrows with him. "Uh..."

Was he just ditzy or did he genuinely forget bows need arrows...?

Seeing his puzzled look, Ravenus gave him a bashful smile. "The soldier only had those Vorpal Arrows. I was on the receiving end of those things. I don't want anyone to suffer through that."

Awww... that's actually really sweet.

"I can respect that," Payton said with a nod. "But that means we need to get you some arrows."

Durandal clapped his shoulder lightly. "That'll be harder than you think. All weapons and equipment are provided by the Listeners and Speakers. They're highly regulated. Sure you could probably make some makeshift ones but no one knows how to really make decent ones. We'd have to go to town to actually get some decent ones and if we go anywhere looking like this, we'd be instantly killed."

Something smells off about that...

"Wait..." he began, turning fully towards Durandal. "Are you telling me that no one knows how to make basic equipment like arrows? What about things like knives, farming tools or anything like that?"

"No human ever has to farm. All the tools are provided by the Readers and Listeners. Blacksmiths barely know how to repair equipment and are more there to trade than actually make or repair equipment. It’s actually cheaper for most people to just buy items sold by the Speakers through Blacksmiths or other traders than repair them. As for hard labor, it's all done by subservient creatures. Either creatures spawned by people with summoning skills like Faoster or Grigori that aren't killed."

Damn... this world is weird. Humans have it easy. They barely have to lift a finger.

"So what are our options?"

For the first time, Durandal seemed at a loss.

Thankfully, Ravenus was there. The bat somehow managed to sneak in between the two of them and pop up facing Payton, wings and arms spread out wide. Durandal had to peek past the bat’s wings just to see the red-furred wolf.

"Let's go to Avergreen!"

Payton could only give his winged companion a blank look.

"Avergreen is the town that was close Borskadiir Cave where I was staying. They're decent people. Even if we can't go into town, we can go to Borskadiir Cave and set up shop there." He gestured at the tower. "We're close enough to where the wagon fell that I'm sure Gobhood troops will eventually find their way here. If we go to Avergreen, we might at least be able to find some sympathetic traders and have somewhere to stay."

"How far is it from here?"

"It's about four days on foot."

Four days!? I don't think I've ever walked for more than an hour!

Wait! There's got to be a fast travel option right?

And there was. The command SetLoc was given but he needed to have the reference to the location. Apparently, he could use location names as well as coordinates but without truly knowing what the location name of Borskadiir Cave, he couldn't be sure he'd transport them there safely. His shoulders sagged and his feet already began to throb in protest.

Guess we're walking...

"Then we better start heading out," Durandal said. "Let's pack up what we can and start heading out immediately."

A quick trip back into the tower had them pack up their belongings. Ravenus had managed to scavenge some waterskins from the fallen wagon but given how it had been sitting out in the dirt for more than a day, they decided it was best to replace the contents with the water that they had stored. They each carried two with Payton easily able to clone them as necessary. There were also two large backpacks that the soldiers had been carrying which they used to store some of the venison. Durandal skinned the deer carcass and washed the resulting flesh. If they could find a trader, it might come in handy. Copying it now would only add extra weight that they couldn’t afford to carry even with the golden-eyed boar’s increased carrying capacity.

Now fully packed, the party headed west towards the township of Avergreen.

"Avergreen has a river running through it so I think if we follow the stream we found yesterday, we'll eventually reach it," Ravenus reported.

"Easy access to clean water too," Durandal added. "Might be a bit in the open but it'll be safer than just wandering out in the woods where it's hard to tell our direction or where we're going."

The trio found the stream easily enough and followed it quietly for a few hours. Payton's paws were hurting just an hour in and he never knew how much he missed shoes. Still, he didn't complain and was grateful when, around noon, Durandal called for a break because he saw some fish in the river. The big boar fashioned a crude spear from some branches and waded into the shin-high rivers. Payton sat by the shore, sinking his bare paws into the river. The cool waters washed between his toes, bringing a sigh of relief from his muzzle. Ravenus began setting up a campfire. Hovering his imaginary cursor over each of his companions, he noticed that they were all still Level 1 but as they went about their tasks, little numbers started springing up from above their heads.

Durandal threw a spear in the water and a blue icon sprang up above his head announcing he got +50 Fishing Experience. Ravenus finished setting up the campfire and was now trying to light a spark and showed that he had +50 Camping Experience.

"Do you guys have some sort of skill for Fishing or Camping?" he asked.

Without missing a beat, Durandal threw the spear again and managed to grab a nice, big, thrashing fish. "Those are called 'General Skills'. All named gets the full list and basically everything you do contributes to them. Only unlocked the moment you become named. Your Class actually determined which of the skills you get a bonus to initially and which ones level up faster than the others. I don't know all of them, unfortunately. There's a big list."

As a Brawler, Durandal got bonuses to skills that required more physical work like Fishing, Hunting and Construction. As a Rogue, Ravenus had bonuses to skills such as Stealth, Deception and Scouting. Like the rest of Lexcia, these skills improved the more they used them with increasing levels opening doors to more benefits.

Yet something else Payton couldn't access.

Durandal managed to catch three fish which he immediately set up to cook on skewers over the fire that Ravenus had started. The smell of cooking seafood reminded Payton of those grilled eel rice bowls he used to love getting on his way home from work. They were rare treats from the Japanese restaurant around the corner since he much preferred to just cook his own meals. On the occasion that he had a craving for something fishy, that would be his go to meal. Fish couldn't really be reheated, after all.

"I never got to ask," Ravenus began. "What was your life like before you were thrown into Lexcia, Payton? Do you remember any of it?"

It was almost as if the hunky bat could read his mind. With a faint smile, Payton said, "I don't know if you'll understand but I was an office worker. An accountant. I'd go to work every day, crunch some numbers then go back home and eat dinner alone. Maybe watch some TV and browse the internet but that's about it. That was basically my life. Maybe got to the gym every now and then but that's all."

"I don't understand half of what you said," laughed the blue-eyed bat, beaming broadly. "But it sounds like you were pretty much content with your lot in life. Didn't it get... repetitive?"

He shrugged, accepting the criticism. "Maybe a little but it's not like I really wanted anything beyond what I already had. I guess I didn't exactly have that much ambition."

Which... in this world sounds kind of exactly what the Readers are enforcing upon the general populace. Making them content so they don't want anything else or don't even know they want anything else.

Eager to get the thoughts out of his head, he turned to Ravenus and asked, "What about you? Do you remember your old life?"

The bat laughed softly and rubbed the back of his head, ruffling his blonde hair. "Well, it's been ten years since I've really thought about it. I've sort of been content with the idea that I'll be stuck here until I die. But from what I remember..." He gazed of wistfully into the distance. "... I wasn't exactly in the best of places. I was sort of hunted there too. People didn't like me for who I was. I made do by doing odd jobs for people but never sticking around in one place for too long because if anyone ever found out what I was, they'd lynch me."

"You were a Grigori there too?" Durandal asked.

Ravenus grinned bashfully. "Nope."

"Then what?"

The bat winked at him, sticking out a tongue teasingly. "You'll have to guess."

Strange that this part wasn't actually kept in Ravenus' character sheet though he guessed that document only maintained what Ravenus was from the moment he stepped into this world and not what he was before. In that sense, everyone had a bit of freedom from the overarching system.

"What? Were you horrendously deformed or something?" pressed Durandal.

"Nope."

"Give me a clue!" laughed the boar. "Was it a racial thing? Were you an elf or something in a human-centric world? A dwarf?"

"Noooooo."

Durandal clapped his hands together. "I've got it. You were a pauper posing as a noble and you lived in constant fear of being found out."

"Nice. But no."

Payton decided to take a jab. "Were you gay?" The bat paused for a second, his smile wavering. Regret instantly welled up in Payton's heart. "Oh... Rav... I'm sorry."

The bat laughed softly, bitterness and sadness at the edges of his voice. "No. It's okay. I'm honestly glad I left that world behind. People hated me because I liked men the way I should have liked women. It was just how I was. I honestly didn't think it was anyone's business but my own but people somehow always found out and in the end, they would turn against me."

Payton shuffled closer to Ravenus, draping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him closer. "Hey. That's how I see things. Who you like is up to you. I won't judge you for that." They both turned their gaze towards Durandal at the same time.

The big boar shrugged absently.

"If you want to fuck, I'm game."

Payton blanched audibly and Ravenus blinked a few times in confusion.

"I was born a Grigori, remember?" Durandal clarified. "I didn't come from another world. But where I lived, I was the outcast and I was kept under lock and key with only my tools and work to keep me company. I would take a fuck wherever it came. Sometimes a client would feel horny and I'd pleasure them while my father worked. Guys or girls. Doesn't matter."

Payton blinked a few times trying to imagine just what kind of situation would lead to a blacksmith working over a hot forge while his son had sex loudly in the other room... He found himself strangely... aroused at the idea.

What is wrong with me!? That's weird!

"Were you any good?" Ravenus asked, immediately causing Payton to recoil in surprise.

Durandal snorted derisively and offered a grin. "Would I be here if I was? But that's part of the fun, isn't it? Now that we're named, we can get experience in sex. The more we have it, the better we get."

The bright, innocent smile on Ravenus' face was quite endearing while the predatory smile on Durandal's was a little concerning.

He turned towards Ravenus, intent on changing the subject. "Hey Rav... did you... did you die before you came here?"

The bat rogue shook head. "I don't think so. Last thing I remember was going into his mansion for a delivery. I stepped through the gates and suddenly, I was here."

Oh good. So chances are I didn't die.

"Did you guys have names before you came here?" he asked.

Durandal and Ravenus exchanged glances then quickly averted their gaze from one another. A light blush touched Durandal's cheeks while Ravenus basically burned bright red.

"I was born a Grigori," answered Durandal. "My father would just call me ‘pig’ or ‘bacon’. Nothing else. Never ‘son’ or even ‘boy’.”

Ravenus’ big, expressive ears drooped slightly. "I'm fairly sure that when I knocked on the mansion's gates, I announced my name and said I was from a delivery company but then, a second later, I forgot it!"

So what's special about me? How come I remembered my name?

"Before I came here, I got this weird text-based adventure game that got sent to me by a friend," he admitted. "Not that any of you would get what that means. But it's weird that I remember my name..."

"Yeah," the duo answered.

Payton laughed softly and picked up the fish that had been assigned to him. The skin was crisp, had a nice char and though the flesh was a little fishy, it was a nice, sweet flavor to it. His stomach was grateful for the sustenance. As he was just turning it over to start eating the other flank of the fish, he caught sight of something hidden within the bushes.

It was... a pair of eyes.

He immediately pulled out his knife and turned towards the observer. "Hey! Whoever you are! Come out of there! Now!"

Durandal immediately reached for his swords and Ravenus grabbed his own... only to remember he didn't have any arrows and held it over his shoulder like a club.

I need to get that boy some arrows.

There was a soft whimper from the bushes. A rustling followed shortly afterwards and the bushes parted to reveal a figure shrouded by a thick, dark cloak. He was a small, lion Grigori. He was shorter than Payton though it could have been because he was hunched over. Blue eyes were sunken and he shuffled forward weakly. Despite his emaciated state, he looked young. His strangely light blue mane, dirty as it was, only sprung from between his ears and halfway down his jawline like some muttonchops. The ragged clothes he wore hung around his frame loosely, more like they were wearing him than the other way around.

"P - p - please..." he whispered weakly, reaching out with a paw. "I - I - If you could spare some... f - f - food...?"

The boy was reaching for Payton... or more specifically the grilled fish he was still holding in his other paw.

Before he could respond, however, the boy's eyes glazed over... and he collapsed to the ground with a loud whump.

"That was anti-climactic..." Ravenus mumbled. "Though he could be bait for someone else."

"I don't think so," Payton responded, kneeling beside the boy and turning him over. The lion's fur was matted with grime and dust. The blue coloration of his fur appeared to be dye as he could see the brown roots starting to show. Something stirred just above the lion's rump and he guessed it was the boy's tail.

Until a soft hissing emerged from it.

Durandal was suddenly there, grabbing Payton by the chest and pulling him away just as a long, black snake came bursting out of underneath the lion's cloak, snapping at them with its fangs.

"What the hell!?" cried the lupine.

"It must be his unique feature as a Grigori," Durandal grunted, pulling him away. The boar's health bar had gone down slightly and there was a sickly, purple icon beneath the bar.

Poison!

Payton quickly executed ResetCharStatus, removing the poison and refilling the bar. As he did so, the snake coiled in the air, pulling back the cloak that draped the young lion to reveal a pair of webbed wings draped over his back and the short, curved horns jutting from the feline brow.

"He's a chimera..." Payton realized.

"A what?" Durandal asked, stepping in front of Payton with his blades drawn.

"In my world, they were part lion, part goat and had a serpent's tail. I guess he has wings too." Payton gently pushed past Durandal to the surprise of the Brawler and held out the stick with the cooked fish on it. "Here you go, buddy. Easy now. I don't want to hurt you."

The snake kept its fangs bared at him but reached out warily. They drew closer to one another and the moment he came within range, the serpent snapped out, sinking its fangs into the fish and pulling it right off the charred skewer. Payton retreated and watched the serpentine tail gobble the whole fish and swallow it. It was a little strange watching the bulge of his lunch disappearing up someone's tail.

The chimera shuffled, letting out a soft moan while his eyes fluttered open.

"Oh... What happened?"

Payton walked around the snake's range and into the boy's line of sight. "You passed out just as you met us." He smiled and held out his paw. "Hi. I'm Payton Rendshaw."

******

It had been a hard day's ride. Gaolsheer had not wanted to stop. Goblinshredder had tasted blood and knowing that there were still three Grigori out there that had yet to be beheaded only intensified the hunger of the bloodied axe. He and the small accompaniment of men that the Goblin Knight sent him had charged through the night and now that it was approaching noon, they were more than halfway to Avergreen.

The town was just on the horizon.

"Sir Gaolsheer!" exclaimed one of the men. "We must let the horses rest and drink! They are exhausted!"

The mare he rode was visibly slowing and frothing at the mouth. It was no mean feat to compress three to four days of hard walking into a single day and he couldn't expect more from simple beasts like these horses.

"Very well," he grunted.

There was some audible relief from the men as they dismounted from their horses and led them to the stream for the poor, exhausted animals to drink and rest. The men were likewise tired. They had made their way to his hut and then from his hut, started the long ride to Avergreen. They would be useless to him if they were too tired to fight. Three free-roaming Grigori - while delicious - could potentially be dangerous. They were not like him. They were not named.

The soft crunching of boots in the underbrush immediately triggered the executioner’s instincts.

“Blood,” he growled.

A short distance away, a small group of hunters approached.

"Hello there, travelers!" one of the men exclaimed. He wielded a crude bow and had a lean physique. Rosy-cheeked and blissfully happy thanks to the grace of the Readers. "Are you heading to Avergreen?"

"Yes," rumbled Gaolsheer. "How far is it from here?"

The hunters turned partially and pointed in the direction of the town. "About two day's trek from here. Probably half that on horseback. We were just out hunting. You know how it is. Can’t have the goblins doing everything right! Hunting is such good sport!" His bright, joyful eyes turned towards the others. "What brings such well-armed men to our part of the country?"

"We're hunting Grigori," announced the executioner. "Have you seen any?"

The hunter gave him a bright smile. "Well, a circus just recently came into Avergreen and they had a Grigori with them. We also had one amongst our village. We used him for labor."

Goalsheer turned around and gripped the handle of Goblinshredder which rested on the back of his horse. The creature blissfully ignored him as it drank from the stream. "No. Three of them escaped execution not too long ago. Have you seen them?"

The hunter shook his head ignorantly. "Sorry, milord. I can't say that we have. If they made their way to Avergreen, they didn't stop in town."

"I see."

The executioner pulled the huge, bloodied axe from his pack and then in one, swift motion, brought it crashing down on the neck of his own mount. The mare never got a chance to scream or whinny in agony as its head was chopped clear off its shoulders. The body toppled into the river, staining the clear waters with blood. The hunters froze in shock and then were completely paralyzed when Gaolsheer turned his menacing gaze upon them.

"You have two choices, friends," he chuckled darkly. "Return to your little village and produce three Grigori for me... or use your hunting skills to find the three that may still be in the woods and come find me before I raze your village to the ground."

The hunter stammered in horror. "W - What? B - But, milord! We've done nothing wrong!"

"Haven't you? You let a circus with a Grigori enter your lands. You've kept one as a laborer for the Readers only know how long. You do this even though there is clearly a Black Halo above our heads! Do you want the Dark Lord to rise!? Will you deprive our Readers of their much-needed powers by harboring Grigori!?"

The men staggered back, holding their hands up in surrender.

"Now go!" Gaolsheer barked. "Find me those Grigori!"

******

The chimera - like many Grigori and indeed citizens - had no name. He was simply known as 'Juggler' for his role in the circus. Ironically, he wasn't that much of a juggler but was actually a singer. Juggling was just something he did while singing. Durandal caught more fish and they cooked some of their leftover venison in some water to form a nice little soup as Juggler couldn't quite eat solid food. The poor guy had been on his own for a week or so ever since the Black Halo arrived. Even before then, he was barely fed.

"It was horrible," sighed the lion, regarding partially charred skewer in his paws. "The circus was never that nice to me but ever since the Black Halo appeared in the sky, they treated me worse and worse. All the performers kept saying asking why they should even bother feeding me if I would be executed anyway."

"That's terrible!" Ravenus exclaimed. "So they barely fed you and still expected you to perform?"

Juggler nodded grimly. "Not even the ringmaster cared about me. I was the only Grigori performer and everyone there loved to torment me. Told me that I owed them for even breathing the same air as them."

He was little more than a literal circus freak, Payton though miserably. That's no life to live.

"How did you escape?" Durandal rumbled.

"We arrived in the nearby town of Avergreen. While the troupe was busy setting up the tent and the circus, I snuck away, stole some clothes and ran as fast as I could. Everyone was too distracted with the circus to notice." Juggler hugged himself like he was shivering from the cold. "They kept saying that the executioner's hut wasn't far behind and if they didn't pull enough money from Avergreen, they'd bring me to him for the bounty..."

Ravenus reached out and gently gripped Juggler's shoulder. The chimera's serpent tail hissed but the bat didn't flinch. "Avergreen was never a very prosperous town but from what I heard, it was fairly comfortable for all the people there. I hate to say it, but you probably would have been sent to be executed."

Juggler shut his eyes and leaned towards Ravenus, burying his muzzle into the bat's strong chest. "I don't want to die!"

"You won't," Payton assured. "Trust me. But we are heading towards Avergreen. We need to gather some supplies and better equipment especially if we're going to survive."

The lion's blue eyes widened. "Y - You're going there? Y - You look strong but... but the town has a lot of people. You might get killed or dragged off to the executioner."

"Don't you worry your little head about that," laughed Durandal, hiking a thumb at Payton. "This guy here. He's the Dark Lord!"

Oh jeez... did you have to say that?

The lion's brow furrowed. "Uhm... The Dark Lord? Really?" When he was met with serious stares, the straightened and then let out a bright, musical laugh. "You must be joking! There hasn't been a Dark Lord of years! Millennia even!"

"It's true!" huffed the boar. "With a single word, he freed us from our shackles and turned a man to dust! Then he gave Ravenus and I names and classes!"

Juggler's laughter died and he stared at the two in surprise. "Wait... So you aren't just three Grigori on the run? You... you actually have names?"

"Like I said," Payton said, holding up a paw. "My name is Payton Rendshaw." His companions introduced themselves. "I don't know about being the Dark Lord but I have some pretty special abilities as a Grigori. Here..." He held out his paw and immediately created another charred fish on a skewer, having retrieved the reference while it was cooking. Juggler's eyes widened and he immediately snatched it up, gobbling it excitedly.

"That's amazing!" gasped, Juggler between bites. "What else can you do?"

"He can heal," Ravenus answered brightly. "I was hit by a Vorpal Arrow and he completely healed me."

"Wow!" Then Juggler's cheeks burned in embarrassment as he turned to Durandal. "Uh... did you happen to get healed when my snake tail bit you? His venom isn't that strong but it's it can still sting."

"He did," replied the boar with a dismissive wave. "Payton can pass through walls as well. He probably has the most powerful ability that I've seen amongst Grigori. And he can read!"

Juggler's eyes widened as he turned to Payton in shock. "You're a Reader!? You're a Grigori Reader_!?"_

Payton sighed heavily. He wasn't used to being praised and talked up to so much. It felt like he was in the presence of his parents and they were setting him up for a date. "Yes, I can read but I'm no Reader. At least I don't think so."

The young lion's eyes dropped down bashfully. "Then... Uhm... would it be too much trouble if I..."

"You can travel with us," Payton interrupted.

A brilliant light entered Juggler's features like he had just been injected with pure joy. His feline features brightening, whiskers straightening and beaming smile melted Payton's heart like he was looking at cute cat memes.

Awww... So adorable!

"Really!? Thank you!" Juggler pounced at Payton, colliding with the wolf and affectionately nuzzling his neck while letting out a soft purring.

Oh god! Why didn't I ever get a cat back home?

"Easy there," Durandal said, grabbing Juggler by the scruff and pulling him off. "We'll need to rest up and get you back to full health before we start heading out." He nodded towards Payton. "Did you want to give him a name?"

Juggler's serpent tail was swaying through the air excitedly, his tiny wings flapping in excitement. "A name? Really!? I get a name!?"

"Hmmm..." Payton mused, leaning forward. "If you're alright with me giving you a name, I can do it."

"Yes please!"

"Alright then..."

Payton activated the EditChar command and opened Juggler's Character Sheet. Currently named as 'Chimera Grigori Performer', Juggler had quite high intelligence and wisdom with moderate charisma. Dexterity was his next highest but strength and endurance were sadly lacking. There was no lie in what he claimed about his background. Like Durandal, he was born a Grigori. Despite his appearance, he was actually twenty-four years old but due to his living conditions amongst the circus, he never had enough nourishment to develop fully so he remained short and skinny. His parents were immediately disgusted by his appearance and when he was just a year old, he was sold to the circus for a few copper coins. One less mouth to feed, after all.

Damn...

"Seems like you've got a good head on your shoulders," Payton announced. "How about I make you the party's mage?"

"I don't know much about magic," admitted Juggler, "but if you think that's best, I'll go with it, Your Dark Lordship."

"Don't call me that," he snapped with a deadpan grunt. "Okay... You're our mage..."

That worked well with Juggler's ability as a Grigori which was more physical. His serpent tail had a strong venom that seemed to stack in potency with every bite, potentially and exponentially increasing its damage the more he struck. As a mage, some sort of physical defense would be good in case he couldn't get his spells off in time.

"And I'll name you... Axter Bluemane."

Juggler smiled brightly as a soft aura surrounded him. "Thank you!" He leapt to his feet, clenching his paws into fists. "I am now Axter Bluemane!"

Axter's features were overcome with weariness and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. The lion toppled to the ground bringing a cry of surprise from everyone in the camp.

"He got up too fast," Ravenus observed. "Best to let him rest. I'm sure the rush of just getting a name must've be doing its magic."

"Right," agreed Payton. "Let's camp here for the night. Bundle him up so he's warm. He feels a little cold."

Using the reference for Axter's cloak, Payton created copies of the garment and wrapped the chimera in it. Thankfully, the lion’s serpentine tail had also fallen unconscious. Ravenus kept watch while Durandal fished for another hour to replenish their supplies. Payton decided to wander a little deeper into the forest. With the GetRef command, he was able to scan his surroundings for anything that was even remotely interesting. A few feet from their campsite, he found some mushrooms that looked like the fly amanitas that could be found back on earth - the toadstools that had red caps and little white spots on it. When he picked it up, however, his UI indicated that it was called a 'ginger redcap'. Thankfully, it also indicated that it was incredibly toxic so he decided not to eat it. Nonetheless, he decided to write down its reference just in case he would use it later.

Similar forms of plants were found all over the forest. Cross-shaped leaves from a crawling vine appeared to have healing properties and he suspected could be distilled or processed into more powerful healing potions. Flowers with brilliant blue petals could be consumed to recover a little bit of magic points. Given that they now had a mage in their party, these would be useful. Each new piece of information he found was jotted down in his makeshift 'Grimoire' using the piece of charcoal he had kept.

"What I wouldn't do for a pen or something..." he sighed softly.

Shadows lengthened indicating and the sky was starting to grow redder. He easily made his way back to camp where Axter continued to slumber quietly. Even his snake tail seems to be emitting a soft, hissing snore. Durandal remained in the water, waving his swords through the air, practicing with them. Ravenus had plucked some thinner branches from the nearby trees and used one of Payton's knives to carve them into crude arrows. What he'd use for fletching still remained a mystery. At the very least he had some sort of ammo for his bow. Each swing from the four-armed boar sparked little announcements over his head that he was improving his swordsmanship skill and getting experience for each weapon. Similarly, Ravenus was improving his woodworking skill.

I better do something about my skills as well.

He sat cross-legged beside the campfire and closed his eyes. Starting from the top, he began going through the commands in his list, using the Help command to discern their use. There had to be millions of commands and he wasn't sure he'd be able to memorize them all but he was determined to at least find some that were of use.

It feels like we're going to be heading into battle soon. I don't want to be useless.

A soft crack caught his attention, getting his ear to twitch to the left. The human side of his mind dismissed it as just a twig breaking but the animalistic side, the wolf in him, warned that it was more than that. The scent of leather, sweat and human drifted into his nostrils and his eyes immediately snapped open. He leapt forward, diving right through the fire and landing on all fours, claws raking into the ground with fangs bared. An arrow thudded into the ground beside him.

"Payton!" bellowed Durandal and he charged as fast as he could towards the shore. With the rushing river, however, he was slowed and that gave time for two men to come bursting out from the underbrush and throw a weighted net at him. The boar roared in frustration as his arms became entangled in the heavy rope.

Another man charged at Ravenus from behind but the bat nimbly jabbed his bow backwards between his flank and arm, slamming the blunt end into the man's diaphragm. Stunned, the man could do nothing as the nimble rogue slipped behind him and hooked the bow's curve around the man's neck, choking the life out of him.

A fourth human emerged from the wood, bow armed and leveled at Payton.

"You best give him, Grigori!" barked the man. "You're surrounded!"

"Is that what you think?" Payton snarled. He glanced towards Durandal, getting his reference... but then paused. He intended to delete the net currently tying up the boar but he couldn't be sure if the reference was the weighted rope or his friend. Remembering what had happened to that one guard, he didn't want to force that fate onto anyone else.

Fuck... What do I do!?

"You picked the wrong time to interrupt my nap."

The suddenly deep, masculine voice came from the bundle of cloth that had been Axter. The chimera rose, revealing his full height which now stood at six and a half feet of lean, athletic muscle. The ragged clothing that hung around his shoulders was much smaller on his broader frame, the shirt only barely covering his midriff with the sleeves rolled up all the way to his broad shoulders. The pants that hung around his waist rode halfway up his calves. The most stunning transformation about Axter was that every inch of his fur was now a shade of glistening, icy blue. His mane had spread out from around his jawline and become a full mane, spreading down towards his chest to form a thick, bushy crest that was a shade of darker blue than the rest of his fur. The small webbed wings on his back were now bigger, broader but still looked more like they were there for vanity than use. The long, serpent tail coiled around his thick legs, hissing loudly with its bright red eyes contrasting against its dark, blue scales.

"Axter..." Payton breathed.

The man with the bow didn't back down. "You don't scare me, Grigori!"

"That's your mistake," Axter growled. He flicked a wrist at the man. A spear of ice launched out of his fingertips and immediately buried itself into the man's gut. The archer gagged, clutching the spear of crystallized water around his stomach in shock. The two who were on the shore turned in shock just for Axter to launch at them, his wings spreading wide to offer some extra distance. He grabbed the face of one of the men in his big, powerful paws, claws out.

"Die, human!"

The man couldn't scream as ice immediately erupted from Axter's paw, piercing his skull and sending grey matter exploding out from the back of the man's head.

The last man on the shore turned, screaming and began to flee up the river.

Payton rose to his feet and immediately summoned his kitchen knife. The man was too far for him to throw the weapon but not too far from his gaze. A simple GetLoc... followed by SpawnItem... and suddenly, the knife materialized right inside the fleeing raider's skull. The last man that Ravenus was strangling dropped to the floor, unconscious. The bat went over to Durandal to help pull the net off him while Axter returned to Payton, his big paws gently checking the wolf for injuries.

"Are you hurt, Master?" asked the icy-blue lion. Even the serpent tail showed concern as it gently prodded Payton for injuries.

"I'm fine," laughed Payton, gently patting the snake head which seemed to hiss at him in affection. "Who were those guys?"

"Probably average men hoping to find a Grigori and turn our heads into closest Reader so that they can become named or maybe have some extra fortune."

Huh... So people in this world do have some ambition. But it's not common.

"You got the hang of your new abilities quickly."

Axter laughed softly with a light blush touching his ice-blue cheeks. "I actually woke an hour or so ago and noticed my body was different. I spent the last few hours trying to figure out what happened and was quietly practicing my abilities under the sheets. I... uhm..." He glanced back towards Payton bashfully. "I didn't want to startle you."

With a smile, Payton gently slapped the lion's chest with the back of his paw. "You mean dramatically springing out from under your covers a whole foot taller and looking like that wasn't startling enough?"

Wait... What did I just say!? Could that be construed as flirting!?

He coughed roughly and turned his back to Axter. "Let's see if these guys have anything of value on them."

The men were in dirty, ragged clothing so they weren't adventurers but they were still in better clothing than the torn rags that Payton and Axter wore. One of them had a black, leather vest that fit Ravenus quite well so he took that after tearing a hole in the back for his wings. None of their shoes would fit Payton so there was no hope of giving his paws some relief from the upcoming trek. The bow that the archer possessed was much lower level than the one Ravenus had so he grabbed that while keeping the previous one for when he would be able to fully utilize it. Apart from that, there were simple farming tools that the men used as weapons and one dagger. Axter insisted that Payton take it as he could use his magic.

The men also had some copper coins on them, three to be exact.

Payton ran the three coins between his fingers. Each of them was triangular in shape and mostly featureless save for the single raised bump at the center. It seemed that the bump was used to stack the coins on top of one another for easy sorting.

"So how does currency in this world work?" he asked.

Axter took one of the coins and lifted to his lips, biting it. Satisfied that it was not a counterfeit, he handed it back to Payton. "There is the Rule of the Century. One hundred copper coins make for one silver piece. One hundred silver equates to a single gold piece. One hundred gold pieces make for a single platinum piece. Though I've never seen a platinum piece myself."

"The coins are also shaped differently," said Durandal. "Coppers are triangles. Silver are square, gold have six sides and platinum are perfectly circular."

I see... So technically the more sides, the more the value.

His curiosity got the better of him and he checked his command list for anything to 'add currency'. Unsurprisingly, there was an AddCopper, AddSilver, AddGold and AddPlat commands that would take any value to add money. As an experiment, he ran AddCopper 10 and immediately, ten freshly minted copper coins appeared in his paw.

Ravenus' eyes glistened. "Wow! You can make money! That's amazing!"

"Maybe," Payton responded, handing each of his party members some copper coins. "Though I don't really see why money is required if everything is provided by the Readers and Listeners. Do people even need to buy anything if they're constantly waited on? How do they even earn money?"

A monthly stipend was given to every citizen by the Listeners and Speakers. This stipend was set based on one's living arrangements and status. Generally, those who lived outside of the city were given a living wage of sorts while those in the city had more to spend on luxury items. That money would then pay for essentials such as food and water which would then feed back to the Speakers to feed back into the citizenry every month. It made sure that money was constantly been regulated.

But it also means that no one can ever rise beyond their station.

No one worked to achieve greater fortune and these ‘hunters’ were likely trained in the art of the hunt out of some idle hobby. Everyone just lived the same repetitive cycle over and over again. Little wonder these men had sought some degree of fame or fortune by killing Grigori.

Also makes me wonder why I ever let myself fall into that same rut back home...

The soft coughing of the man Ravenus had strangled brought them out of their huddle. Durandal immediately drew his blades and leveled them at the struggling man.

"P - P - Please," pleaded the man, holding up his hands. "We were only doing what we could to save the village!"

The four Grigori exchanged glances.

"What are you talking about?" Ravenus asked. "Avergreen? Did something happen to Avergreen?"

The red-faced man nodded miserably. "We... We don't know. There was a man... a big man with a bloodied axe. We met him on the road and..." The man's red face became pale. "He killed his own horse in front of us mercilessly... He claimed that three Grigori had escaped execution and he was after them. He then threatened Avergreen. He said that if those three Grigori were not found, he would raze the village to the ground!"

Payton took a full twenty-seconds to comprehend what was just said.

What the fuck!?

"Did this man wear green armour?" Ravenus asked.

"No..."

The bat crossed his arms thoughtfully, wings wrapped around his shoulders like a cloak. "So it wasn't the Goblin Knight. Did carry a gnarled staff adorned with a Goblin's skull?"

"Not at a, sir..."

"Not the Emerald Mage... Maybe he carried a big hammer with a deep, green coloration on the head?" Again a negative. "Not the Greensmith then... it has to have been the Greenworks Head Chef then? Carries two meat cleavers?"

The man indicated a negative. "No, sir. He carried a big, bloodied axe and an apron splattered with dried blood. I think he was an executioner."

Ravenus' eyes widened in realization. "Gaolsheer the Executioner of Gobhood."

"The man we were going to be sent to so our heads would get cut off?" Payton blurted.

"So it was you!" exclaimed their would-be assassin. "You were the ones that escaped and damned Avergreen! The executioner seeks you! He will raze our village because you fucking Grigori couldn't do what was right and let yourselves fucking die so the Dark Lord would never rise!"

Is that really what he thinks? That people who mistakenly come into this world should just die so that everyone else could be safe?

A look at his companions revealed lowered gazes and dejected expressions. Even the normally cheery Ravenus had closed his eyes to bar out the scathing words of the man shouting accusations at them.

"You Grigori and nothing but pieces of shit! Hundreds of people are going to die because of you! My friends are dead because you couldn't just accept your fates! This was your lot in life! Why can't you accept that!?"

Lambs to the slaughter. That's all we are. Living, thinking, feeling people brought to this world without our consent and set up to fail.

The mighty Durandal, having experienced all of this before in the previous Black Halo, grit his teeth and reached for his sword. But he couldn't bring it to silence the man in front of him. The scorching words continued to tumble out, spit flying from between the hunter's lips and tears flowing from down the man's eyes.

"Are your lives worth more than lives of thousands of others? Of millions? Did we not cradle you in times of peace? Did we not provide for you? This is how you repay us!?"

This is bullshit...

Axter clutched himself tightly, eyes squeezed shut and small tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. His serpentine tail wove its way up to his cheeks, its forked tongue brushing away the tears.

"You're all selfish! Selfish pieces of shit! You would let the whole world die just so you could have a few precious seconds of life! You -"

WHAM!

The man's tirade was abruptly silenced. Payton's knuckles stung but he was rewarded by the satisfying crunch of the man's nose breaking against his fist.

"That's enough!" he roared, stunning all those around him. "You're the one that's pathetic! You think that just because we were born differently that we are automatically worth less than the rest of you? That we should just accept our lot in life to be sacrificed for the good of the world? Well I call bullshit on that!"

He lifted his head, pressing his wounded fist against his chest partially because it throbbed with pain but also because he was making a solemn oath. "If you've never once questioned why intelligent people have to be sacrificed to make the world safer for a threat that has never once materialized in thousands of years, then you're not being deceived. That's just willful ignorance! You're purposefully turning a blind eye to the cruelty of the world and just because the system currently favors you! Where's your common decency!? Even normal people would shed a tear if their favorite cow was sent to the slaughter but you don't even bat an eye when a Grigori is sent off to be beheaded to be used in some cruel ritual!"

Payton stamped his foot, pushing a finger into the air. "I'm making a promise here and now! I am going to change this world! I will not let any Grigori get executed ever again if I can help it! I am going to open everyone's eyes to the cruelty of this world and just how fucked up this system is!" He leveled his finger directly at the man before him. "And I'm going to start with you!"

The man's eyes widened in terror, holding up his arm to defend himself. Not a single word left his lips.

Then Payton turned his finger towards the nearest corpse; the man who Axter had stabbed through the chest with an icicle the size of a fist.

"ResChar!"

A brilliant golden light erupted from the man's corpse, beams of sunlight erupting from his eyes and lips. The body convulsed and arched momentarily into the air. Then there was a sudden gasp and the man's eyes blinked several times in surprise as he took his first breaths.

"Unbelievable..." gasped Durandal.

Axter's jaw hit the ground. "You... You resurrected him... Why...?"

Payton was forced to uncurl his right fist as it was still throbbing with pain. "Because we can't change the world with war alone. If we're going to show people they're wrong, they need to realize it themselves. We can't just force it down their throats. That's why -"

"Aaaaaaaaaaaargh!"

The newly resurrected man suddenly screamed. His was sitting up partially and with the newly returned strength, was grasping the icicle still embedded in his belly.

Oh fuck! Resurrecting him didn't immediately remove anything that killed him in the first place!

The first hunter - the one that Ravenus had strangled into unconsciousness - also screamed. "Aieeeeeeeeeee!"

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaargh!"

Ravenus pointed at the huge icicle and likewise let out his own cry of horror. "Oh Readers! He's going to die again!"

Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuckity-fuckfuck!

"I got this!" Payton exclaimed, waving them to calm while secretly panicking himself. "Sorry! I got this! ResetCharStatus!"

A short burst of soft, green light later and the icicle dissolved into the gentle aura while the man's wounds healed. Lesson learned. ResChar did indeed resurrect people and bring them back from the dead but it didn't automatically remove anything that may have been fatal. Sure it would heal their wounds but if there was still an axe buried in their skulls, they wouldn't live for very much longer after resurrection.

After the initial shock of the botched resurrection, Payton had Durandal and Ravenus fish the other two hunters from the river. They had to yank the knife that had clipped into one man's skull out and the other needed to have the block of ice melted away in the river first before Payton resurrected them all. All three were looking around in confusion by the time they were back to the world of the living.

The one hunter that didn't need resurrection hugged his fellow hunters, weeping openly at their return. As he cleared the tears from his eyes, he turned towards Payton in confusion. "Why...?"

"To teach you that all life is precious," he responded. "No one needs to die meaningless deaths. Not if we all stand together."

"How can you be so sure? What if the Dark Lord comes? Won't the Readers need all your powers to stop them?"

Payton felt the gazes of his companions upon him. The knowing smile for Durandal, the bright grin from Ravenus and the coy smirk from Axter.

It seems there's no avoiding it...

"Nope." With a shrug, he pressed a thumb against his chest. "Because I'm the Dark Lord!"

******

The town's mayor was a bald, fat old man dressed in finery. It was clear that this man had never gotten his hands bloodied as he was thrown to the ground in front of Gaolsheer. Weeping, shaking and maybe pissing himself a little, the man pleaded for his life and offered the life of the one Grigori that was in their village.

One Grigori. That either meant that those three that had escaped were stupid enough to try and go in the opposite direction towards the border of the Crib or tried to head towards Gobhood. A foolish endeavor as the woods were dangerous with subhuman beasts and other perils. Even if they made it, the walls would prevent them from crossing into another Reader's lands. Unless, that is, they were suicidal and they would rather die than be offered to a Reader.

That was possible but rare.

None of that mattered, however. Goblinshredder thirsted.

"Please," begged the mayor. "Please milord. We have only the one Grigori. No others have passed this way."

Gaolsheer grinned viciously, his yellowed teeth flashing across his features. "Now I know you are lying."

"No! I swear!"

His huge hand grabbed the man's bald head and lifted him up easily so that they were at eye-level with one another. "Really? So are you telling me those hunters I met on the road were lying when they claimed that the circus came here with a single Grigori?"

The mayor blinked a few times in confusion. "Well... uhm... you see... That Grigori escaped and-"

"Oh! So you allowed a Grigori, one of the essential components to our world's continued survival to escape?"

"No! The ringmaster -"

He had enough of the sniveling, fat mat and his eyes tightened in glee.

Goblinshredder sang through the air. The man's body fell to the ground, one head shorter and bleeding all over the road. The gathered citizens stared in horror. Women turned to their men. Children buried their faces into the dressed of their mothers. The soldiers of Gobhood stared on grimly.

"You have three days to produce three Grigori!" Gaolsheer roared. "Otherwise, I will reduce your village to ash!"

"But milord!" exclaimed one of the men. He looked to be part of the local militia by the presence of his sword. "The mayor speaks the truth! No other Grigori have entered the village save for the one the circus brought!"

The Executioner of Gobhood turned to leave. "Then I suggest you find them."

The crestfallen features of the man rippled throughout the rest of the gathered civilians. Just a few steps away from the body of the recently beheaded mayor and they started devolving into panicked chatter. They needed a fire beneath them to focus their attention on the task at hand. No distractions.

"Burn the circus," he ordered.

The soldier beside him stared in shock. "S - Sir...?"

"Do it," he said, still wearing that malicious grin. "They let a Grigori escape. They must be punished. Leave nothing standing. Burn it to ash. Stick the charred corpses of the freaks on pikes so the villagers can have a vision of the future that awaits them should they fail me."

Shaking in his armor, the soldier merely nodded.

******

"No..."

Avergreen was a rather large township that hosted over three hundred people. Rich, fertile farmlands surrounded glistening buildings that were well kept and benefited from more modern technologies such as plumbing, sewerage, irrigation and even well-developed roads. This was no simple rural village. It would equate to a quaint little, rural Americana town. There were even signs of electricity even if the housing and general architecture still spoke of something a little more medieval.

Of course, the operative word was 'was'.

Those brilliant buildings were now covered in soot or burnt down completely. Broad, red rooftops had collapsed and vast swathes of farmland had been burned to ash. The bodies of men and women were propped up on wooden pikes and spears all along the road, all of them burned beyond recognition. Plumes of black, acrid smoke rose from the village itself.

"This... this can't be happening," one of the hunters breathed, his eyes boggling. "Goalsheer said... Why would he... To his own people?"

This is the kind of monster we're dealing with, Payton thought furiously. This isn't some ultra-conservative moron doing whatever he can to preserve some twisted values or radical extremist trying to use violence to protest against a system. This is a terrible demon from hell that enjoys inflicting pain upon people and values lives even less.

"What kind of monster would do this...?" Axter breathed.

The hunters rushed to the village, all four of them charging up the roar. The chimera made to follow them but Ravenus grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. "Gaolsheer the Executioner of Gobhood did this. Even where I was, I heard rumors of how he was exceptionally cruel. He'll find any reason to kill and feed the thirst of his axe, Goblinshredder."

"On the plus side, he's never grown past Base Class," added Durandal. "The Speakers won't recognize him and give him the advancement test. Probably due to his bloodlust. Probably also why he resigned himself to being the Executioner of Gobhood instead of pursuing a career as an adventurer. Doesn't mean that Goblinshredder isn't dangerous though. I heard it's over level 20."

Payton puffed out his chest and nodded grimly towards the town. "Alright. Let's see what we can do." He turned towards the others with a faint smile. "Change starts with this small village."