Becoming a true ascender is not just a matter of having access to the Schema. You must have the capability to kill. You must have the fortitude to withstand hardship. You must be willing to discard all unnecessary relationships. You must have the willpower to forge on endlessly. A true ascender is one who will do anything to ascend. - A speech by a Master at the Vaecos Praetorian, the planet-academy Realm.

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Marc waited until the battle was winding down before moving towards the goblin camp. He wasn't confident in surviving unscathed, otherwise.

The floor was littered with goblin corpses killed in different ways, with their dull yellow eyes looking eerie in the purple night light. Shimmering blood coated the sand, drying quickly in the cold night air, and some of the corpses had their guts spilled out onto the sand. Marc felt the urge to vomit and had to take a few slow, deep breaths of the tangy air, which almost sent him over the edge.

He steadily made his way forward, trying not to step on anything disgusting when the sound of footsteps startled him. He cussed at himself for being more concerned about what he was stepping on than potential enemies around him as he hurriedly looked up.

A lean goblin was running towards him and, alarmed, Marc quickly raised his right arm - covered by his ice gauntlet - in warning. The goblin stopped and Marc could see it was holding in its insides with both hands. Despite its efforts, some of its guts had spilled out and as Marc watched, something small and dark, probably an organ, fell to the floor.

He gulped. It hadn't been running to attack him. It was... just trying to escape, trying to live. The goblin stared at him with sharp yellow eyes that looked unnervingly human, ignoring all the other parts of the creature. Marc hesitated.

Essence points, man. Free Essence points.

Try as he might though, Marc couldn't quite bring himself to kill the injured, dying goblin. It was somehow different doing it in reality as opposed to in a game. Different from killing for supplies.

The goblin would probably not get far away before dying, wasting its Essence. He should kill it for the points. It was part of a group that had captured humans for some nefarious reason.

Or maybe, he should just let it go. Although it looked weak, he probably shouldn't underestimate it. Who knew, it might manage to get him with some last-minute desperation move. He really didn't want to get injured.

God, I'm such a softie. I'm probably going to regret this later, but fuck it.

Marc lowered the gauntlet.

The goblin didn't wait for him to change his mind, rapidly skittering away in another direction. He watched it go, making sure it wouldn't come back to stab him in the back even though that was unlikely with its injuries.

Marc continued moving, heading in the direction of the three rescuers as they fought against a few remaining goblins who seemed to be proving quite a challenge. However, the three rescuers were clearly winning, as evidenced by one of the goblins falling and failing to rise.

Two of them looked quite strange, though. Other non-humans? He continued walking, passing the goblin campfire which was now scattered and had a dead goblin lying where it was.

Marc encountered more wounded goblins lying on the sand, bleeding out and in pain. Few were able enough to even move from their dying positions. He got the idea that the essence points from their deaths would probably still go to the one who had mortally wounded them, which was why they hadn't bothered to finish the goblins.

Therefore, he didn't kill them. Aside from his distaste at the thought of killing them, he also didn't want to annoy the rescuers by stealing their kills. Kill stealing was bad.

He stopped a few dozen meters away from the ongoing battle and watched as the three rescuers fought against several greenskins in a melee that was almost too fast to track. The most prominent goblin was almost entirely carrying the goblins' side of the battle by himself. He didn't move as fast as some of the other goblins but he was able to position himself to block the rescuers' attacks several times. Whenever their weapons - or fists in the case of the tall greenish rescuer - hit him, they seemed to always stop against his shining scales.

Marc was relieved that he hadn't attacked the goblins when he first encountered them. He would have probably have died quickly.

He wasn't helping standing there just looking, though, so after some thought, he decided to go and free the bound captives. He figured that should help give a good impression and hopefully, make the inhabitants of this realm more likely to help him.

He found the captives quickly. The goblins guarding them had already been killed but the killer had clearly not had the time to release them from their binds.

Like he'd observed before, the captives were mostly children and old people, with some adolescents and adults. They were speaking amongst themselves in low, indiscernible tones. As he approached them, they instantly stopped talking and looked at him with wariness, fear and hope, although the last was more common amongst the children and less amongst the older ones.

They'd probably been watching the camp and knew he wasn't part of the trio that were fighting to rescue them.

Marc slowly walked over to them, hands raised and palms open to show they were empty. He had already dismissed the ice gauntlet a while back, the constant upkeep draining him too much. However, despite his peaceful gesture, the captives' fear visibly increased and they shifted back as much as they could.

Marc winced. In a magical world, perhaps open palms were less a symbol of peace and more a symbol of I'm-gonna-murder-your-ass-with-a-magical-projectile.

He put down his palms and tried for a reassuring smile, which only served to unnerve them more.

"Who are you? What do you want?" An old, white-haired man near the front of the group questioned Marc. He was thin and wiry and looked as if a particularly strong wind could blow him away.

Marc sighed in relief. He understood the man's words. Although the language was recognizably different, his brain somehow interpreted it as English to him. More importantly, he knew he could speak the language. Knew his tongue would alter his words into the strange language even as he spoke them.

Hearing the man speak had felt like listening to an anime in sub but hearing the dub version overlaid on the speech and understanding it. A crude analogy but it was the best he could come up with. It was a weird feeling but good because he wouldn't expose himself on the basis of language. That System Lottery really was fortunate.

"I'm Marcus," Marc introduced himself, the strange words rolling of his tongue making him feel a disconnect between his thoughts and actions. He dismissed the odd feeling with a shake of the head that probably made him look weird to the people he was speaking to. "I came to free you."

At his words, murmuring broke out amidst the captives.

"You're with the ascenders?" the old man asked, his shoulders hunching up slightly in a way that Marc's brain somehow interpreted as doubt. His words silenced the others, making Marc sure he was some kind of authority amongst them. Village leader, perhaps?

The ascenders he was referring to were probably those three people who had attacked the goblins. Ascender seemed to be their term for adventurer or cultivator. Something to note.

"I didn't come with them. I... May I release your bindings?" Marc none-too-subtly changed the subject, pointing at the ropes that tied up the group.

The old man stared at him with narrowed eyes for a moment before nodding in agreement.

Marc immediately walked over and bent to untie them.

The ropes were made of some dark, tough, leathery strings twisted together to form strong cords. The hands and feet of the captives were entirely covered by the ropes, tied in a way that he was sure had to be restricting blood flow to those body parts. Then each captive was tied to two others, making sure none of them could run without pulling the entire group with them. It would have also forced them to maintain the same pace every time they moved.

The knots were surprisingly complicated and Marc, who knew nothing about tying and untying knots, just fiddled around with one for a while minute before giving up.

Sure could use a Scout right now, he thought wryly. I'm hopeless at this.

He raised his hand to conjure an ice blade before an idea occured to him. He stood up and approached one of the nearby goblin corpses. Leaning down and trying not to gag at the smell of blood, guts and partly-digested food, he took the spear the goblin was holding.

Then he stabbed it in the ground and placed a foot on the haft near the spearhead, trying to break it in two. The spearhaft's wood was springy and flexed quite far but he succeeded in breaking it and took the part with the spearhead.

He returned to the tied up captives and freed them one after the other by using the sharp spearhead to cut the ropes. Once he was done with the last person, he slipped the spearhead into his pocket. It felt a bit uncomfortable in there but he decided to keep it as a readily available weapon just in case.

The old man, who seemed to be the leader of the group, nodded gratefully at Marc. "Thank you for your help."

Marc shrugged. "It was nothing."

Noticing the now-freed captives looking past him, he turned around to see the three ascenders heading towards them. They seemed to be done with the last of the goblins, faster than he'd expected.

The one in the lead was a tall man with a lean, muscular frame. He wore dark cloth armor and at his side, a longsword was sheathed. Marc had seen him bodily shoulder a goblin hard enough to send it flying several meters.

To his left was... a demon? He looked like the classical Earth depiction of a demon. Red skin, long and dark curly horns, and slightly glowing eyes. As he came closer, Marc also noted he looked unnaturally beautiful. Yes, beautiful.

Shaking his head, Marc focused on the third ascender. If the demon had looked weird, this one looked utterly alien. Taller than the other two, it or they were green in coloration and had ugly-looking distended sacs around its neck. Its eyes were larger than a human's would be and it had no eyebrows. It didn't seem to have a nose and what served for a mouth was a jagged crack where one would normally be.

Marc only noticed he was staring when the ascenders reached them and stopped walking forwards. He quickly averted his eyes, hoping he hadn't looked strange staring.

"Never seen an Emeraldine before?" the demon-looking adventurer quipped.

Marc elected not to reply and the demon thankfully didn't pursue it.

The old man stepped past him to speak to the ascenders. "We are extremely grateful for your rescue, honored ascenders. Without you, we would have suffered a gruesome fate."

After saying this, he lowered his waist until he was bowing almost parallel to the ground. The other captives followed suit along with a wave of "Thank you, honored ascenders." Marc felt awkward standing with them and being the only person not bowing.

"No need to thank us," the human ascender said. "We should have gotten news of the goblins before they got to your village."

The old man stood straight again. "Still, we thank you."

The human ascender opened his mouth and then hesitated, looking like he really didn't want to say what he was about to say. The old man picked up on his reluctance.

"Were... were there any survivors?" He asked hesitantly.

The ascender shook his head, his face grim.

The old man fell to his knees in despair, a mournful cry leaving his mouth. The other captives also started weeping, the somewhat happy atmosphere from their rescue turning depressing in no time.

Marc had no idea what to do in the situation and it seemed the ascenders didn't either as they stood around watching the former captives for a few moments.

Giving Marc a curious glance, as if wondering why he wasn't crying with the rest, the human ascender stepped forward and placed a hand on the old man's shoulder. Coughing awkwardly, he stated, "I understand it seems like all hope is lost but you shouldn't fall to despair. The City Council will surely make provisions for you."

One of the captives, a young female, retorted in a sob-choked voice, "The Council did nothing to protect us."

Murmurs of agreement sounded out of the crowd and another voice spoke up again, male this time. "The Council could have wiped out the goblins but chose not to."

The human ascender grimaced at that and replied, "They will be sure to do something this time. At least five villages have been destroyed by the goblins. The Council can't let that go."

"How is that of any consolation to us?" The old man stood up, his body visibly shaking in anger. "We live out in the desert working for them, all to maintain their power and in return they cannot even protect us. We've lost our homes, our families, all because some jumped-up aristocrats want easy goblin fodder for leveling always available. They were supposed to always protect us."

The older captives resounded their agreement while the younger ones continued to cry.

The bored-sounding voice of the demon guy cut through the hubbub, the non-human ascender speaking while idly examining his fingernails. "Look, as entertaining as this is, we need to leave. Truedark will come soon and we don't want to be near here when it happens."

The crowd quietened at that and Marc felt confused about whatever truedark was.

"True," the human ascender said, nodding. "By truedark, this place will be infested with monsters attracted to all the corpses. We have to move away right now. Loot anything you can carry from the goblins. We don't have food so you'll need their supplies. Be quick about it, we leave in ten minutes."

Marc acutely felt the effect of his Omnilingualism Perk at work in the last words spoken by the ascender. What the ascender had said wasn't actually "ten minutes" but some shorthand for that unit of time in the language he was speaking. However, Marc's brain had interpreted it to mean ten minutes.

The villagers remained standing around and the ascender frowned. "Unless you want to remain to get killed and eaten by darktime monsters, you need to get moving right now. You can air your grievances later, preferably when we're out of the desert."

The villagers started moving at that and Marc joined them. He grabbed four bags off of some goblin corpses and a neat-looking bone knife almost a foot in length. The knife blade curved slightly and the hilt was just a basic wrapping of rope. It looked like the kind of plastic replica someone would use for cosplaying but was sharp, tough and light.

He threw away the spearhead in favor of tying the bone knife to his hip with a cord of goblin rope.

After ten minutes, the group gathered once more and they set off, away from the now ravaged goblin camp. The human ascender led the group, with the former captives following behind him and the demon dude and green guy bringing up the rear. They moved at a relatively fast pace - half-walking, half-jogging - despite the obvious weakness of the villagers, which made Marc sure that whatever 'truedark' was, it was definitely something to be scared of.

As they walked, Marc marched up to the front of the group, falling into step right next to the human ascender.

The man only glanced once at Marc before his gaze continued to survey the area in front and to their sides, watching for any movements in the moonlight. They walked side by side for about a minute before Marc spoke.

"Hello," he started. "I'm Marcus."

The ascender replied brusquely. "I am Rezak Al'Sherda of Renarda."

"Yeah, um, nice to meet you. Uh..."

"You're not one of the villagers." It was a statement, not a question.

"Oh, you noticed. Yeah, I was kinda hoping to talk to you about that," Marc chuckled nervously. "I kind of found myself in this desert with no idea or memory of how I got here."

That was mostly true. He knew the System had brought him here but he didn't know how exactly it had. He also had no memory of how he had gotten into the Realm.

The ascender, Rezak, raised his eyebrows, turning to look closely at Marc.

"Well, that's... strange," he noted. "But we don't have enough time to discuss that now. We'll find somewhere to camp first, survive tonight's truedark and then we talk."

"This 'truedark' thing," Marc asked. "What exactly is it?"

"Well, you're definitely not from these parts if you're asking about 'truedark'." Marc winced slightly at that, hoping he hadn't just made himself look even more suspicious. Rezak continued, "Explaining truedark, though... It's hard to truly explain it to someone without them experiencing it.

"You'll just have to witness it yourself."