“Jessica, Jessica. Wake up. Some motherfucker stole my idea! He better not have patented my shit.”

Jessica groans awake. Her eyes open and then quickly close from the sunlight.

“W-Whahhhhht?” she says bleary-eyed.

“You see that stinky [Noble] and that makeshift clusterfuck he’s riding? It’s an absolute travesty, is what that is. The highest insult to engineering!”

Jessica yawns again. She takes a look at her surroundings, finding that they have entered a small town. People are walking about, conversing, and, of course, staring. Though, to her surprise, they aren’t staring at Quasi and his bonecycle. Instead…

“How is that carriage moving?”

Indeed, she sees a carriage of wood and metal that is moving without any trace of a draft animal. A [Noble] sits on the driver’s box, smiling and waving as his hands turn a wheel, which seems to cause the carriage to turn on its own.

On the side of the carriage are big bright-red words that read ‘Aodean Metalworks - Golem Carriage Mk2’

“Huh. That seems like it would be more comfortable than this Bonecycle.” she taps the ride.

The Bonecycle skids to a stop on the gravel road. Quasi turns and looks at Jessica. “That,” he points at the vehicle, “is an insult to the entire automotive industry. That horrendous piece of shit and the shitstains who created it deserve to be run over by a real vehicle, repeatedly, for several hours.”

The [Abbess] sighs, “Well, it’s bigger than your Bonecycle and I bet it isn’t going to decompose if you stop giving it mana.”

Quasi opens his mouth to refute, stops, then attempts to counter her argument. Unfortunately, it technically holds true. His Bonecycle is an undead, and like all undead, sunlight causes them to decompose. It is only with a very powerful passive skill that his own undead, while connected to him, don’t decompose.

“Yeah, well, it’s probably slower…” he grumbles, “And I do have some other vehicles too.”

Jessica raises an eyebrow. “I’ve been forced to sit with you on this tiny seat all the way from the dungeon, and you had something larger?”

Quasi scratches his neck. “Well, kinda. One of my creations is a bit too big to summon and use for just transportation, a couple of others need a bit more work. Well, I guess we could take my tank. But it’s slower than the Bonecycle and is more noticeable.”

“Tank?” Jessica asks.

Quasi sighs. “Later, when fewer people are around.”

Jessica looks around, taking in the crowded buildings and busy thoroughfare.

“Where are we?”

“I think it’s-”

“Raiszent,” a voice interrupts Quasi.

Both Jessica and Quasi turn to the speaker. They find a man in his mid-fifties wearing a splendid sequined robe, velvet walking boots, and flanked by four heavily armed and armored [Bodyguards].

The man does a short bow. “Sorry to interrupt both of you, but I can’t help but find that vehicle of yours to be fascinating. Would it be a new design from Aodean Metalworks ? A smaller, simpler two-wheel vehicle for [Noble] youths perhaps?”

Jessica begins to giggle, which turns to stifled laughter as Quasi gives her a glare promising death and destruction beneath his mask.

“Is something wrong?” the man asks.

“It’s nothing,” she quickly blurts as she senses mana converging within Quasi’s body, “Just that this design was created by my [Gentleman] here.”

The mana quickly dissipates as Jessica reminds Quasi of the class l he’s trying to level.

Quasi slides off the bonecycle and bows while tilting his hat. “As my dearest companion mentioned, I am indeed the [Engineer] and [Gentleman] who created this design.”

The man frowns. “Really? Aodean Metalworks employs teams of [Engineers], [Smiths], [Architects], [Crafters], [Enchanters], and a [Golemancer] to create a single golem carriage. I find it hard to believe that a single individual could create anything near as amazing.”

If the man could see through Quasi’s mask, he would see a face bordering on murder. Thankfully, Quasi’s expression is hidden, though the [Bodyguards] do feel a slight bit uneasy as their [Dangersense] goes off.

“Asterious, how many times have I told you to stop bothering travelers?” An aged armored man rides up on horseback, leading several more behind him. All are armed and ready for combat, though all weapons are sheathed.

Quasi takes a glance at the new arrivals, including the well-dressed man he was about to obliterate… probably.

Ophelius Brelos

Level 94 [Mageguard Captain]

Asterious Demarkas

Level 113 [Entrepreneur]

Asterious clicks his tongue. “Ophelius, as you have been made well aware, I am free to do business with whoever I wish! Your interference will be reported to the [Governor] if you do not immediately leave.”

“My interference is necessary in order to maintain the safety of this town. At the moment, you are currently speaking with a [Necromancer].”

The [Bodyguards] around Asterious unsheathe their weapons. Asterious runs behind them.

“[Necromancer]? Here? Ophelius, what’s the meaning of this?”

“Asterious, tell your [Bodyguards] to stand down.”

The [Entreprenuer] looks at the captain as though the man is an idiot.

“Are you mad!? A [Necromancer] is here! HERE! He needs to-- Kill him!” he yells and points at Quasi.

Quasi scratches his neck. He is currently very confused, possibly more so than the Asterious person. He looks at Jessica. She also looks dumbfounded.

“The law has changed, Asterious. The counsel of Camelot has decreed that classes that use darker magic are no longer to be killed on sight.”

“You’re-- What!? Are you insane! He could kill us all!” screams the [Entrepreneur].

Ophelius raises his hand.

“[Grand Fireball].”

A ball of flame bursts into existence above his palm.

“You and your [Bodyguards] are threatening a civilian. This is your last warning. Leave or face the consequences.”

Asterious stares at the glowing sphere of flame. His [Bodyguards] take several steps back, unsure of what they should be doing.

“Fine,” he spits, “I’m leaving. I hope he raises your corpse when he is done.”

Asterious turns and runs away. His [Bodyguards] follow.

As Asterious leaves, the captain turns his sights towards the small crowd watching the situation unfold.

At his gaze, they decide it is best to be elsewhere. Even the [Noble] on his new carriage quickly makes himself scarce.

The fire winks out in the [Captain]’s hand and he turns to Quasi.

“So,” Quasi begins, “how did you figure out I’m a [Necromancer]?”

“You are riding an undead whose existence is connected to you. Anyone with a mana perception skill could see that you’re a [Necromancer].

Quasi looks at his bonecycle.

“Huh. That’s… a pretty big flaw. It never occurred to me I could be found out like that.”

Quasi stretches. “Welp, what happens now?”

“What happens is that I will be escorting you to the Mercenary Guild for testing and licensing. Afterwards, you will be free to go.”

Quasi looks to Jessica who just shrugs. She had told him that [Necromancers] and other similar classes are hunted and killed on site. Granted, his current class isn’t [Necromancer] anymore, so his class probably isn’t on the “kill on sight” list. Then again, considering the name of his actual class, he would probably be hunted anyway.

“Alright, sounds like a plan.”

Quasi moves to the Bonecycle. He mounts it and then looks to the [Captain].

“Lead the way.”

_____________________________________________________________

Out of hundreds of guilds spread out across all of Orbis, the two best known are the Mercenary guild and the Divers guild (Though, among the powerful, the assassin’s guild has its place). Both guilds are institutions where combat teams or powerful individuals can be hired for tasks. They are the goto areas for fighters looking for fast leveling and even faster coin.

But, like all places where violence is a trade, the members tend to be violent.

As Quasi nears the Mercenary guild alongside an escort of mounted [Guards], the entrance to the guild doors burst open. A body twirls through the air trailing an artistic trail of blood and lands with a graceless thud, breathing, but unconscious.

Ophelius sighs. Just another day.

As the group momentarily stops in front of the guild, Quasi takes the moment to critically examine it. The guild hall is both wide and tall, , easily capable of accomodating several hundred people. The structure is made of hardened polished wood that looks sturdy enough for normal use, but easily repairable in the event of contingencies.

Looking in through the front doors, a fist fight appears to have broken out, and considering the shouts and screams, a rather considerable number of people are involved.

“Damn. Looks like we’ll need to wait til they are done,” Ophelius says.

“You’re not going to stop it?” Quasi asks.

Ophelius shakes his head. “If it was a brawl between peasant drunks, then we would. But mercenaries tend to be much higher level and often occasionally more drunk. It's best to let them fight it out first and then clean the mess up later. Fewer [Guards] to [Heal].”

Quasi snorts as he gets off the Bonecycle.

“Where are you going?” the captain asks.

“I’m just going to see it from up close. I’ll be out in a sec.”

Ophelius doesn't stop the masked man as he enters inside the guild. The captain looks at Jessica, who has been silent most of this time. He notices the collar around her neck.

“Are you a [Slave]?” he asks. “If you are, we can free you. All towns and villages under Camelot’s rule have outlawed slavery.”

Jessica quickly shakes her head. “No,” she says, touching the collar, “this is an enchanted item he gifted to me. He… He was the one who freed me from slavery.”

Ophelius slowly nods. “Good. If you don't mind, I would like to report that bit of information to the higher ups.”

“My collar?”

“No, that a [Necromancer] released you from slavery. Success cases like this will help with making the public more amenable to the new laws.”

Jessica tilts her head towards the increasing sounds coming from the guild. “You don’t seem to fear [Necromancers].”

Ophelius lips curve upward. “When I was just a boy, I lived and worked on a farm. Tilling fields, picking crops. The usual village stuff. At some point, the village and all the [Farmers] were invaded by rats. There were many of them and they were breeding very quickly. The worst part of it was that we were nearing the time for a harvest. The rats were going to destroy everything if we did not get help. It was only that a passing [Mage] had offered to save the crops for a small price.”

“A [Mage]?”

“A [Plaguespreader Mage] to be precise. He wove dark magic and created a plague. A deadly one that killed the rats in droves while leaving everyone else mostly fine. Granted, [Farmers] were annoyed that they had to remove thousands of rat corpses from their fields, but they were able to save the crops, and that's what really mattered.”

“So, you think a [Necromancer] can be good?”

“Maybe, maybe not. But [Prime Minister] Aodean believes that these people need a chance, and I wholeheartedly agree. Good and evil are not defined by classes.”

“[Prime Minister]? Is that a leadership class?”

“Oh, you don't know? Camelot is led by a council, and [Prime Minister] is the class that leads and directs them. Aodean has done more for Camelot in two years than the council has in several decades. He has lowered crime, created jobs, improved infrastructure, and many other things. Then again, maybe that was his destiny. He is a [Hero], after all.”

Jessica’s eyes widen. “A [Hero]? With the class? The [Hero] class?”

“Yes,” Ophelius nods, “Aodean was summo-”

The doors of the guild blast open again and Quasi flies out of the building alongside the broken remains of a table. He lands hard with a groan, his mask slips off his face and his large tophat rolls on the ground.

“Shiiiittt,” he curses while getting back up.

“That fucker threw a table.”

He shakes his head and body, splinters falling off of his clothes. He then leans down and takes a table leg before running back inside the guild.

Not a moment later, they hear the sound of wood slapping flesh.

Jessica shakes her head and groans.