Overwhelmed with all the life-essence hovering above me I fell to my knees.

A Dead Deity. A colossal boss monster, a small army of beasts that were guarding it, and several knights that died during this battle.

Bizarre life of the monsters, twisting, cold and disgusting essence of tree and sweet, tender existence of noble human knights, it all mixed in one cacophony of screams, a kaleidoscope of colors, an overwhelming vortex of emotion.

Nearly passing out, I managed to stabilize myself by digging the tip of my blade into the ground while taking a knee. Some knights around me gave me questioning looks before nodding, seeming to understand something. Resting now, I looked like a warrior mourning his fallen brothers in arms, I managed to remain conscious, and undisturbed. I started feasting on the essence, tending to my wounds, replenishing mana. Regaining my inner balance.

[Estimating [Essence] value] [Essence] of [Iv]: 10 000 [Essence] of [Hirsia]: 5217 [Essence] of [Monsters]: 3218 [Essence] of [Humans]: 981 [You have leveled up [4] times] Name: Asteruse Race: Skeleton Knight [Undead] [Self-aware Variant] Level: 9 [902/5500] Attributes: STR: 91 (+16)

VIT: 92 (+16)

END: ∞

RFX: 68 (+10)

DEX: 69 (+10)

INT: 36 (+4)

WIS: 30 (+4)

SPI: 9 (+0) Skill proficiency increased Skills:

[Sword Usage - Advanced level 3 ➝ 5]

[Shield Usage - Journeyman level 22➝ 24]

[Bow Usage - Apprentice level 1]

[Nature Magic - Novice level 1]

[Mana Sense - Low - Passive]

[Life sense - Medium - Passive]

[Combat Maneuver/Team tactic - Apprentice level 10 ➝ 13]

[Heavy Armor Usage - Apprentice level 10 ➝ 12]

[Hand-to-hand Combat - Novice level 4]

[Stealth - Apprentice level 2]

[Mind Magic Resistance - Low level 1]

[Dark Arts - Curse Words - Novice Level 10 ➝ Apprentice Level 2]

[Dark Arts - Necromancy - Novice Level 6]

[Tracking - Novice Level 2]

Condition met ➝ You have learned new [Spell] from [Dark Arts - Curse Words] domain [Cursed Touch: Dispel] Those of them, who were given the ability to speak the language of creation came to me, hoping that their words would be enough to defeat me. Arrogant fools convinced that their magic was able to defeat me.

Just what made them believe, that magic can escape the grasp of time? Even magic trembles before the Tyrant of Time. Cost: 15 MP Effect: Reduce remaining duration of targeted [Spell]. If remaing time = 0, the [Spell] ceases.

Again, the life of other creatures filled my body, somehow filling the cold, always-hungry hole in my chest, even if just temporarily. Still, the disgusting, cold life of the deity provided barely any comfort. I would even risk saying that - quite the opposite - it made me hate each and every ‘bite’, giving me a nauseous feeling.

And yet, its quality could not be questioned. I felt it surging in my “veins”, remodeling my body, making it thicker, denser, more durable.

As I was lost in my thoughts, I sensed someone was approaching me from behind, putting a hand on my shoulder.

“S-sir Alabaster, do you require medical aid?”

It was Lora, one of the two field medics I had pleasure to meet.

Indeed, from their perspective, I was kneeling for…

I look around trying to estimate how much time passed

… thirty or more minutes. They had all the reasons to get concerned about my health condition.

“No. I wish to apologize for making you worry. I am fine, I just needed to catch my breath and think through all that’s happened.” “Are you sure? I was told you were hit by the tail, your ribs might be damaged and…” “Miss Lora. Rest assured. I. Am. Absolutely. Fine. Please, carry on with your duties. There might be others requiring your skills urgently.”

After a moment of hesitation, she only nodded, looking a bit disappointed for some reason, returning to her duties.

Once again, I looked all over the battlefield. Several ‘field beds’ - ot, just a piece of cloth - were stretched under the walls of the chamber, all occupied by badly wounded knights.

Warriors with frostbites caused by the strange magic of the beast, wounds revealing inner sides of men’s stomachs, broker limbs, faces covered with new scars.

… And they called it a regular ride. “In, few days there, and out” they said. “Maybe I would earn a scar or two…” they said.

They made it sound like a picnic. And there they lied.

Bittenchewed, wounded and broken.

With eyes getting duller and duller as drugs, which until now were keeping them upright, were losing their effects, making their stomachs revolt.

Grown-up men and women were crying and vomiting holding their stomachs.

Commanders were nowhere to be seen, most likely sleeping in their tents. Poor bastards. They must be exhausted. Not only were they marching and fighting with everyone else, suffering the same burden, but also were responsible for the tactic, strategy, and logistics of this ride. The burden they were carrying. Most likely blaming themselves for every loss that we suffered here. Wondering what they could do better.

Taking a loud, mental sigh, I straightened my back making some of my joints crack, before joining House members that were working, helping them as much as I could.

I was tireless, they were not. If I could help them, even if just a little, as much as one person is able to help, I will do it. That was the right thing to do, no?

I lost track of the flow of the time as I dived into endless work that was to be done. Wounded to tend, materials to gather, pieces of equipment to collect, body parts to strip, camp to set up one more time, just to give everyone several days of rest.

Apparently, all these tasks combined ended up taking up nearly two full days.

In hindsight it was careless of me. For these past two days, right after a battle, I was working nearly non-stop, which did not escape the notice of… literally everyone.

People would come to me, asking how I was feeling, or if I was up for a break. Each and every time I would respond with single words, sometimes even monosyllables. “Good”, “Thanks”, “No”, “Yhym”. Without even looking in their direction.

Then, after two days, we all gathered in the middle of the new camp, around several fireplaces to have a proper feast.

Meat and vegetables which we didn’t have time to properly prepare in the middle of the dungeon before were now being served to starved knights. Knights, who for the past countless days were eating nothing but tasteless, pre-made, rations of fat and proteins. Disgusting, sticky calorie bombs which were only meant to give them enough fuel to let them keep pushing against their limits.

Now, they were swallowing fresh stew with huge gulps, still steaming, it was probably burning the roof of their mouth, making their eyes teary…

… I barely remembered this sensation. How envious I was of them to be able to feel this delightful, hot pain. To sense how warm food was traveling down their throat into their bellies, making them pleasantly heavy.

Slowly, the mood was improving. Still heavy after the memory of all their companions that died, they would see only one more time, during the ceremony, before their bodies would be put to rest in the catacombs, with the rest of the heroes that died giving their life fighting with the beasts.

Someone, after having his fill, picked a lute and started tuning it, getting ready to give a small concert.

Captain Godrick finally appeared, standing in the middle of the group, making his speech. He looked… terrible. He wasn’t the youngest, to begin with, and now he looked as if he was ten or even more years older.

He said something about great losses, about living to fulfill the credo, about him being proud of us. Of how much people in the country are counting on us, about our promise - oath to the country, and how once again we remained true to it.

Then, the feast fully started. The man had finished tuning with the lute and would start playing and singing songs, in turns, cheerful and melancholic. Everyone was exchanging courtesy, eating, resting…

But not me. I felt like a stranger in the crowd. Not fitting, not belonging there, so after several minutes, once everyone was busy, I got up and trying to not bring anyone's attention, I left. My training with Ghost helped me almost disappear into the darkness.

I moved to another chamber and found a darkened place where no one would be looking for me, and even if they would, they wouldn't be able to see anything, before removing my helmet.

I stood in the draft, letting cold air tickle my skull. This was one of the few sensations which I actually was able to feel. Sensations bring me some sort of comfort.

...

… Just what in the hell’s name was I just doing?

I died. More than once. Got up, pulled myself together…

… and moved onto an adventure?!

I know - I know what my reasoning was. I was weak. Powerless. Finding an organization that could support me, not only physically but also with its political power was vital! Michael was outside of my reach. No matter what I did, I would not be able to get closer to him. Unless - I was, for example, a respected knight!

… but somehow…. SOMEHOW! It felt so… wrong!

Everything was wrong!

The country was wrong! The gods were wrong! THE WHOLE WORLD WAS WRONG!

Just what was going on?! Nobles, appearing in places they were not meant to, because gods forced things in motions, like the whole world was their playground! WHAT WAS “THE GAME”!?

“FUCK IT! FUCK IT ALL! FUCK THIS FUCKED UP WORLD” I yelled at the top of my lungs, throwing my helmet in some random direction.

Then, I once again dropped to my knees.

What was the meaning of it? Of-All-Of-It?!

Why did the things that happened - happen?! How much of it was just bad luck, and how much organized action?!

They called me a bystander. The unlucky person that just got caught in the flow of events! A scapegoat - a tool to push the wheel of events further…

… but now, Zariel said that he has plans for me. That I am his “investment”...

HOW MANY OF MY ACTIONS WERE MINE!? How could I know if my decisions belong to me!? How could I be truly sure that I am not just a conscious doll on strings?!

Is even this rambling being orchestrated by them?!

… how could I know that everyone is who they say they are? Did I merely become aware of the puppeteer pulling my strings?!

He said it - that ‘this dungeon was made for SOMEONE to abuse the elemental advantage’ - which clearly was me. He set it up with a desire to make me stronger, but not for my sake. He made a similar deal with that thing - Iv, and he betrayed it without a second of doubt! Like we were both companies he was investing in and he wanted to keep his risks low.

What if he prepares the same thing for me? What if I am just another cattle to be killed for sake of another being? …

… He sent me here, even though I was thinking it was all random - or even my decision! Since when were any of my actions even mine?! What else did he do? What else WILL he do?!

… I was just feeling so… so… powerless.

“Breathe” in.

“Breathe” out.

Calm down, Asterouse.

First, how can you see if your actions are yours?

Easy - do something against the interest of the one that you think is controlling you.

Zariel promised me a reward - to answer my questions. And, as a god, he could not lie. All you need to do is to ask him about his goals, then do something against them. This way, not only would you learn if you are truly a pig marching straight to the butcher, but one would also strengthen his position.

“I can harm you” or “I know how to slow down your own progress”. If Zariel heard that - then, maybe he would have to treat me better, involve me in his plan, not just make me execute them.

Why? Because I would demand it. I am so… SO fed up with being everyone's pawn. Part of everyone’s plans.

First - a way for Micheal to get Liz’ for himself.

Then, a way for a noble house to regain its former glory by obtaining warriors that cannot get tired.

Now. Even a god. I am done, being everyone’s tool.

Doesn’t matter if this is about schemes of nobles, battles of Houses, or being a piece in the god’s game.

They see me only as a toy. Pawn. Tool. A blade to be used.

Not anymore.

Not. Any. More!

If I have to, I will join this game. I will become a part of the schemes.

This sword shall not remain a tool anymore.

This time, this blade, shall get tools of his own.

I didn’t notice when I drew my sword. Now, panting, despite not having lungs, trying my best to calm down, I put my trusted blade back into the sheath. Moved several steps forward, I found my helmet and put it back on, then, I returned to the camp, just to bump into Agnes of all people.

“There you are!...” she smiled, grabbing me under my arm and dragging back to the knights “... Captain Godric asked me to find you!...”

… I bet he did.

“... He wanted to thank you personally, as the member of the raid that did most of the work, greatly contributing to the death of all three bosses. Cooome oooon’! Don’t make people wait for you!”

And again. I do believe that this is what he told you. Because, what else could he say? That he doesn’t want an undead to just stroll across the dungeon unaccompanied?

“That is… unnecessary…” I said with my usual, humble voice “... I was just overwhelmed by everyone’s presence. Needed a few minutes for myself.” “I get you’. Same for me - I like to vanish every now and then… Though no one is sending anyone to go and get me.” she pouted. “Oh, that’s because they believe you are strong and independent.” I decided to spoil her a little “... I, on the other hand, am still new to the business, they are afraid I would mess something up and my actions would give the House a bad name.” “Daaaw! Do you really think so?!” she asked, fluttering her lashes. “I do.” I nodded, not lying at all with my compliment.

… I didn’t say the whole truth though.

“... You are the kindest person I’ve ever met!... Hmmm maybe after auntie Natasha!” she sniffed, hugging my arm a little bit tighter. “In that case, I woe over the people you met in your life. Agnes. You are a wonderful, dependable companion. And remember that. Now, can you speed up a little? We shouldn’t let our companions wait much longer. Or Captain Godrick will scold us.”

She nodded, giggling as we hastened towards the camp.