Overpowered Wizard

Twenty-five hours after Operation Skill Steal, Zarian found himself frustrated while sitting at his study desk. It was dark out in the early morning hours. If he listened closely, he could hear the occasional siege blast getting repelled off the Lovewar Dome.

There were a few hours to burn before Operation Domination began. But that wasn’t Zarian’s focus.

Aura Ignition was still beyond his capabilities to grasp.

In fact, having observed and felt the nature of Dax’s Aura Ignition the night before might’ve made things worse once he ruminated on everything he learned. Zarian now had a working theory of what led to Aura Ignition, which was upsetting, since it required some advanced science to conceptualize the theory.

Zarian was a geek, but not exactly the nerdiest of nerds. In fact, he was a B or C student back in his formative school years. He was pretty sure the guys who’d aced everything in academics would run laps around him if they had his opportunities.

Well, a lot of those guys had stable homes and at least one caring parent.

Zarian had grown up in foster care and ran a gauntlet through different flavors of bad foster situations. It had been hard for him to focus in school while he worried, stressed, or raged about things happening on the home front. That and he’d run off a few times and only show up at school.

He’d honestly needed Ariana’s help to look at other students’ test sheets and feed him answers back in his school days. Passing those tests kept him from failing.

This is actually the first time outside of the Marines where I’m somewhere stable and I can focus on studying for something.

He had the finished concept of Aura Ignition in mind, at the very least. It was a shame that his theory of what led to Aura Ignition might make it unattainable for him.

There was one way to test it, though.

He needed someone willing to be his guinea pig. That person would be most suitable for Aura Ignition.

He hadn’t worked up the courage to ask that person yet. So he’d thrown everything he could into learning the gravity spell next.

At long last, he was fully committed. Yes, learning the third folktale spell to the dread gator grimoire would be technically easier. But he’d put off the gravity spell for too long.

Unfortunately, even with Fractured Mind, Tranquil Mind, Adrenaline Jolt, Overpower, and the black magic grimoire’s advancement that made studying its contents easier – he was still struggling to get through the thick, obtuse, abstract, magic quantum-theorizing, and hellishly freaky nature of the gravity spell.

He also had a dumb moment.

Out of curiosity, he’d flipped through the gravity spell section. He’d kept going until he hit the end of the black magic grimoire.

The gravity spell took up close to ninety percent of the grimoire’s pages. He hadn’t realized there was an end to the grimoire after the gravity spell. The gravity spell was the ultimate page hogger.

“This is fucked.”

Zarian leaned back in his new study chair and massaged his fingers around his face. The ghastly phantom chains attached to his soul swayed while the grimoire lay on the study desk in front of him.

“Is this a legendary spell or something above? It better be. Do I really have to remember all of this just to mess with gravity?”

Was there a test at the end?

Zarian leaned forward and flipped through the pages by hand. He reached the end again.

The symbols and text refused to yield their secrets, obscuring his ability to read or Identify. He had to go over the required reading material, graphs, the impossible geometric illustrations, and the rest of the contents before getting access to the end.

For the first time, Zarian gave a prayer to both of his divine benefactors: Shadowfell and Lovewar. He folded his hands in front of him, elbows on the table, forehead against his thumbs.

Please don’t let there be a test at the end of this. Please.

The goddesses didn’t respond.

Nobody comforted him.

They couldn’t help him here.

The gods … are truly useless.

Zarian reabsorbed his grimoire back into his soul. He left his room and wandered about the hallways of the mansion. He stopped to stare at paintings of the smiling and confident Lovewar Goddess.

Each of his party members was certain of this fact. Lovewar was a freak of a goddess.

“Why do you have different versions of bikini armor? And nothing else?” Zarian shook his head and moved on.

During these hours, the acolytes kept a skeleton crew going in case Zarian’s party needed anything. They even had security patrols to warn of any intruders or fires. Outside of that, they’d mostly hung out in the kitchen.

Zarian avoided the kitchen since they were in the middle of girl talk. A few of his spectral spiders stayed near them, keeping watch unless the girls needed privacy for moments that were personal to them.

Even while evil +2, Zarian had lines he wouldn’t cross. They were cute and beautiful girls from a visual sense. But they were truly baby kittens to Zarian based on how young and vulnerable they were. His Spectral Spider Network kept a tight watch only when necessary.

I’m not as smart and perfect as some people, but at least I have morals.

Some of those nerds from high school would’ve crossed so many lines they would deserve to have their necks grabbed and wrung. A few jocks, too. Hell, there were a lot of guys and girls Zarian knew he wouldn’t trust with his power.

How many people would abuse what I have and absolutely terrorize those who are innocent and defenseless?

Zarian’s evil alignment held the answer. It was kind of bleak. He took it with a grain of salt and distracted himself with a few notifications from last night. The achievement was interesting.

<Achievement rewarded! Junior Manslaughterer! (Unopened)!>

<Achievement opened!>

<Junior Manslaughterer! (Uncommon): You’re on the road to being a mass killer of men. How does it feel to look at your own people and think we can live with less of them? You’ve earned +10 Willpower.>

The achievement wasn’t the best Zarian had earned. The implications, however, were interesting.

How many achievements were out there that gave more stats?

Having an extra +10 Willpower was nothing to scoff at. Zarian was surprised by how generous that was. It made all the abilities he had that scaled with Willpower jump up in power by a considerable bit.

Am I going to tell Naomi?

Why shouldn’t he?

She can go off the handle sometimes. Worse than me.

His evil nature twisted in on itself to explain both why he should and why he shouldn’t. And how to best go about this to keep a tight leash on Naomi and others. The evil +2 alignment was a control freak.

Zarian wanted to do what he did best: be honest. Besides, he was going to ask a big favor out of Naomi.

He found her in Gilbert’s room with the door opened. Their conversation was a hushed one, but if he waited outside of the door and focused, then he would catch what they were saying. Or he could send a spectral spider inside.

He knocked on the wall outside to announce his presence.

Gilbert answered. “Is that you, chief? I can tell by the darkness in the air. Come on in. Mi casa, su casa, and all that.”

Zarian smirked and stepped inside.

Gilbert’s room was similar to Zarian’s except Gilbert had more of a warrior aesthetic. There were axes, long swords, and great swords hanging on the walls. They looked more like show pieces and their edges were dull.

“Good morning, sir,” Naomi greeted.

“Good morning.” Zarian nodded at her before taking in Gilbert.

The man looked rough. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, wearing nothing but briefs. His face looked haggard like he was in the middle of a hangover. The skin around his eyes was dark. And he was twitchy.

Gilbert put on his best lopsided smile. “I came out with 2 stats in Strength and 1 in Willpower. And I got a new trait. It’s the damnedest thing.”

“Nice. I gained an extra point in Strength. What’s the new trait?”

“Berserk Vitality, rare.” Gilbert heaved a sigh. “The lower my vitality, the harder I hit. My healing abilities also get stronger. Lump that in with how Healing Force +1 can reach out further and overcharge the vitality of those I heal and … yeah, I’m fit to be in the thick of fighting more often while keeping everyone upright.”

Zarian had to admit that was a unique set up. It sounded like a crossbreed between a berserker and a healer. The more upfront and damaged Gilbert could get, the more the war healer could essentially keep his allies up on their feet regardless of injuries. Even from a distance.

“Adrenaline Jolt +1 leaves out the bad side effects. And Tranquilizer Touch +1 leaves a trap that extends the skill to anyone who touches the victim who’s not an ally,” Gilbert explained. “I feel like I’m a mixed bag of tricks. Is this how those big online games work?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Naomi said.

“Honestly, your build is more tailored as an actual war healer than anything I’ve seen in games,” Zarian explained. “It literally has no drawbacks other than your lack of an incredible fighting skill. So you can’t mow your way through squads of men all at once. Nor can you take down something big and tough. But you aren’t squishy, and you can help fight while keeping others alive. It’s a good build.”

“Yeah, well, I definitely can fight.” Gilbert lost the semblance of a smile. “I killed so many men the night before. I killed them even when they asked for mercy. I think … I crossed a line I didn’t know I had.”

So this is why Naomi’s here.

She’d sensed something was wrong with Gilbert and went to check up on him. That was nice of her.

Zarian held back on saying anything. He had to check himself since evil +2 gave too many convincing ideas.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Naomi, however, remained neutral. Her words would come straight from the gut.

“It happens. We all cross lines we didn’t know about. Then we figure out what to do on the other side,” Naomi said.

“Is this it?” Gilbert asked. “Murdering men for more power?”

“No,” Naomi said. “You cleaned up a problem the authorities let fester while we’re in the middle of a violent campaign. I won’t say if what you did was wrong or right. But I will say what you did helped many people who couldn’t help themselves. Didn’t it?”

“Human trafficking and the worst of men, right?” Gilbert directed the question to Zarian.

The wizard nodded. Their actions stopped the Bramblevale Bandit’s heinous business practices.

Would someone else take their place? Most likely. But nobody would for a while. The power vacuum left in the massacre’s wake was large.

Zarian imagined some people were scared to attract his attention next.

“Alright, alright. I’m going to take my time cleaning up before I see y’all head out for the next operation. Thanks for checking in on me.” Gilbert waved them off.

Zarian and Naomi nodded before leaving the room. Zarian led the way, and Naomi followed like a shadow.

“I think he’ll overcome it,” Naomi said. “He talked about it. That’s usually key. Now that it’s out instead of being held in, he’ll get past it. He’ll be stronger from it.”

She sounded like she had a lot of faith in Gilbert. She didn’t seem like the type, but she really cared for the people she worked with.

“You’ve ever killed a man?” Zarian asked.

“I’ve always wanted to when I was a kid.” She paused before continuing. “It was personal. I missed my opportunity when he died of a heart attack.”

“I’ve never gotten deployed while I was infantry. But I’ve imagined it. Prepared for it. Technically, Kenneth was the first. But that wasn’t premeditated. As for the bandits? I slept well after all of that.”

He looked back and saw her smirking. He was already smiling when she said, “Killing bandits is how you sleep easier at night, huh? I guess we all have our ways to cope.”

While throwing a couple of zingers and dark jokes at each other, Zarian and Naomi entered the lobby area. It was wide and spacious. The front doors were shut closed, and so was the back door leading to the camped soldiers.

Zarian had his conversation with Roland earlier. Things seemed okay for now. The officer was a nervous-wreck, but he put that frantic energy into keeping his men in line.

Zarian had applied no pressure when he’d told Roland, “If you need help with your men, I can leave an impression.”

Roland had turned down the offer. He was extra motivated now.

Meanwhile, Head Acolyte Lora was trying to keep a tight grip on her own girls. They were curious, like all sheltered kittens. Some acolytes had even attempted to talk to the soldiers through the back windows.

The tension around the manor was thick enough for Zarian to smell it.

This is nearly as bad as high school.

And the food supply was dropping fast.

“Hello, Lord Zarian, Lady Naomi, may I help in any way?” asked the acolyte on lobby duty.

Zarian thought for a second before he answered. “Yes, you can. I need you to move into that hallway. We’re about to have a spar. I’d like for you to stay safe so we can concentrate.”

The acolyte hurried out of the lobby.

Before Zarian could properly turn and face Naomi, he noticed a sucker punch careening for his jaw. The game was on, and Naomi pulled a dirty move with a vicious, man-eating smile on her face.

Zarian smiled back as he dodged the punch and retreated to create space. A kick with his name on it missed him by a hair and hurled about a great rush of air from the force of Naomi’s attack.

He set his stance, fists raised to eye level, legs bent to keep his center of gravity under him, his balance sturdy, while tipping his weight slightly forward on the balls of his feet. Unlike Naomi, Zarian still had to work with the basics.

Prior to the Infinita Star System, all Zarian had in martial training was the stuff the Marines had taught him. It was the most basic of basic moves.

He’d gotten through life by being ferocious, which he learned from dealing with bullies. Never let up or they would beat you down with no regard to your own life.

Months of fantastical adventure, fights, and training with the same people had changed some of those rudimentary basics. The stuff that White Silk Reiki had taught him shifted under Naomi’s tutelage, merging with a budding martial style Zarian was constructing that would serve as a back up to his back up and surprise future opponents.

Despite all of that, Zarian knew one thing for sure whenever he sparred with Naomi.

He was about to get his ass kicked.

And he was going to love it.

Naomi was as wild as she was technically skilled. She didn’t sit back and wait for an opening to show itself. She rushed forward to create openings and exploit an opponent who failed to fend off her pressure.

Zarian shifted and curled up his right arm to deflect a fast jab. He stepped and pivoted out of the way of a straight power punch.

His counter hook came over the top. Fast. Powerful. Tough. His new Level 0 skills juiced up his parasitic body like nothing had ever done before.

If it was anyone else, attacking like this might’ve killed them. But Naomi was perfectly suitable to take it.

Instead of dodging, Naomi turned her head with the punch. She let it glance off her cheek while spinning her entire body with the utmost grace to swing around a fast backhand.

Zarian hardened his guard to absorb the hit. It was a hard one. It would’ve rocked him off his feet if he had remained a frail wizard. He wasn’t anymore. He was strong, fast, and tough now.

The hit was still an immense one. A loud crack resonated across the lobby and throughout the mansion. The chandeliers above trembled. A few nearby vases fell and shattered on the floor. One of the framed illustrations of Lovewar came crashing down.

Zarian spoke through his Spectral Spider Network to let everyone know he and Naomi were sparring in the lobby. He got out the words while stumbling back, bobbing, weaving, and blocking a flurry of aggressive but smartly placed blows.

Then he found his opening and hit Naomi with a big upper cut to the gut. That one took the air out of her and gave him a gratifying wheeze.

By most accounts, that would’ve stopped most people.

But Naomi was Zarian’s right hand woman for a reason.

She moved past her pain and seized his arm, throwing herself onto him with her legs ensnaring the upper portions of his body. Just like that, Naomi had a flying armbar, at least at first.

She quickly transitioned into a squeezer hold that was halfway into a standing triangle choke. Her thighs clamped together to crush Zarian’s shoulder against his neck and chin, cutting off air flow and blood circulation.

It wouldn’t have done much other than make Zarian uncomfortable in the old world. However, because of their stats and abilities, Naomi could literally crush a man with the press of her thighs alone.

Zarian’s toughness lessened the threat of being crushed by Naomi and made it a more drawn out affair. He had enough time to secure his other hand on the waist of Naomi’s pants, bend back, then snap downward for a power slam.

It was at that moment where experience triumphed over raw power. Naomi readjusted at the last second and stole Zarian’s momentum for herself. She flipped him onto the floor instead of getting slammed.

Now she had the arm bar for sure while they settled into the crater they hammered into the lobby floor, shaking the foundations of the mansion.

“Tap,” she demanded.

Zarian raised his free hand and flipped the middle finger at her.

Naomi snapped his arm like a twig. She unraveled herself from his broken limb and sat with legs crossed by his laid out body.

“I’m so glad that the more vitality you have, the higher your pain threshold,” Zarian said. “I didn’t realize until recently that we don’t feel pain as much as we used to. I thought that was mainly Willpower, and that does contribute, but I think Vitality plays a part as well.”

“You’re unfair,” Naomi said.

“Shouldn’t I be saying that?” Zarian chuckled, still lying down.

He didn’t dare move or his broken arm might come out worse. He could still feel pain, after all. But it wasn’t enough to make him cry like a baby.

“You’re very unfair. Look at what we’ve just done. We competed physically at a pretty much even level when you’re the apparent magical wizard guy. It’s a little concerning.”

Naomi frowned.

Zarian lost his humor, surprised to see that expression on her face. Now that he was listening, it really sounded like she was bothered.

Naomi hesitated before asking, “Am I obsolete, sir?”

“Aura Ignition,” Zarian said.

The sudden switch in conversation surprised her slightly. “What about it?”

“You’re the best one for it. You can learn it the easiest, in fact.”

Naomi’s eyes lit up with hunger. Her ambition ran hot. She looked like she was going to jump him at the chance of more power.

While he had her attention, Zarian threw in a sidebar. “Also, I got a new achievement called Junior Manslaughterer. When you find it appropriate, kill a bunch of men in a relatively short time. It gives +10 Willpower.”

“You held that back until now because you were worried I’ll go murder-happy, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, kinda.”

“So … is there another group of scummy bandits in Central Bramblevale?”

Zarian let out a chuckle that was soon interrupted when Gilbert’s Healing Force +1 made an arrival. Zarian felt it when a warm and helpful energy washed over his body and concentrated on his broken arm.

After a minute, the arm was back to normal, as if it had never been broken. In fact, he felt even more invigorated now even after Gilbert’s skill faded off.

“Gilbert’s still in his room, by the way,” Zarian said.

Naomi slowly nodded. “Everyone has it better than me. Maybe I should’ve picked a different class or waited.”

“So, Aura Ignition.”

“Yeah, that thing Foodie showed us. Tell me. What do I do to make it work for me?”

“You have to collapse your aura with an implosion. All of it. And in that split second before your recovery kicks in, the outside aura fills you up like a vacuum and ignites. Might cost you part of your vitality. Don’t know for sure. But that’s what I think happens at the ignition part. You have to do a reverse explosion going inward.”

Naomi looked down at Zarian with a blank face.

He kept going. “That’s why the atmosphere or the air feels pressured. And that’s why there’s pushback in the form of a shockwave.”

He sat up. He was excited now. His Fractured Mind felt lit up in all the right ways as he explained: “The implosion pulls in so much aura from the outside, it becomes condensed around everything near the ignition. The shockwave is the blowback of a successful Aura Ignition releasing excess aura back into the environment. From there, it comes down to having the focus, or Willpower, of maintaining it, which I imagine is hard as hell. But I think the hardest part is the ignition part. It has to be done without your personal aura recovering, leaving a complete and utter vacuum inside of you.”

“I have the lowest amount of Mysticism in the party,” Naomi said.

“Exactly. You have the lowest aura recovery rate. And you have high Willpower, which you’ll need for your concentration.” Zarian gave her a guilty smile.

He scooted closer to Naomi until their faces were close. “So … uh … will you blow yourself up in reverse? And let me watch?”

Naomi looked straight into his eyes with an even more blank expression. Then a slow smile crept across her face.

“Yeah, sure, you can watch me blow up. Anything else to fit your fancy?”

“I want to put my aura in your aura once you’re ignited.”

“Get me dinner first, won’t you?”

***

While Zarian and Naomi came to an agreement on Aura Ignition tests and observations, a gaggle of acolytes watched them from the safety of the hallway attached to the lobby. They were intelligent girls, well fed, and well taken care of.

They had an enormous wealth of information gathered and filed away as per their duties under Lovewar. They’d done some reading of the material, some of which were shocking and titillating, some of which were as dry as peeling potatoes.

But they were sheltered girls nonetheless. They were still uncertain of the world beyond the walls. Still unsure to question how they were groomed to be weak and pitiful despite evidence that was critical of the kingdom’s way of life.

“Is that how they do it outside the wall?” asked one acolyte.

“How daring. How dangerous. You’re not supposed to harm the picker. Is she also of evil alignment?”

“No, I don’t think so. I believe humans outside of our own world vary in skin pigmentation. So Lord Zarian and Lady Naomi’s skin color are naturally that way, like others from the World of Swamps and Princesses.”

“Black, is it? How curious. Their hair, even more so.”

“He’s smiling at her even though she broke his arm. Perhaps black humans enjoy having such … dominant women to pick from.”

“I don’t know if that’s how it should be. It goes against what we’re taught in the kingdom.”

“The kingdom is not above Lovewar. And Lovewar is the most dominant of women. And we are her acolytes.”

“This is true. But it’s still hard to go against what we’re taught. Are we supposed to change? What if we’re weeds and must be pruned?”

“Then we should become very tough weeds. We have the information. There are ways to gain more levels faster than what we’re doing now.”

“I’ve been talking to the soldiers.”

All the other girls hushed the last speaker. But the daring rule breaker kept going.

“This is important. One of them said they gang up on beasts around their level and beat on it as part of their soldier training. Then they do the same thing all the way up to Level 10. It takes a while. But if we must choose Lovewar over the kingdom, then we better be very tough weeds.”

“Are there any soldiers who may help us? The Head Acolyte says they’re unrefined and unsuitable. They’re soldiers, not pickers. They’re a danger to us.”

“Lord Roland’s a picker.”

“He’s a Low Rose Noble. We should aim for Mid Rose, shouldn’t we?”

“Does it matter? If we can become strong like Lady Naomi. We can choose who picks us.”

“We can impress a picker with our battle prowess, can’t we? Nobles would like that, wouldn’t they?” The acolytes fell silent as they watched Zarian and Naomi chat comfortably with each other.

“Maybe it’s not about who picks us. But it’s about being able to stand comfortably with who we wish to love and fight alongside. As we are now, we’re weak and defenseless. We have no choice. Wouldn’t it be nice if we can choose and defend ourselves, just like Lady Naomi?”

“Does that mean I can talk to the soldier boy with the funny jokes? He’s no picker, but I’ll pick him.”

“We’ll have to get stronger to be pickers.”

With these conversations, the acolytes of the Eternal Garden Kingdom started to change their ways. Little by little, they left behind the teachings of their youth and looked toward the harsh but exciting nature of free love and warfare.

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