Chapter 4 Part 2 of 2 (Patreon)

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Quest: Why do you fight?

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You have started the eighth realm trial, be true to yourself. Answer the question aloud, to gain control over yourself is to gain power over the realms.

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Rewards:

Reformation of Will

Entrance to the Ninth Realm once you reach level 80

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Erik had shed his armor sitting in the bar. The only good thing to come from his injuies was his body was constantly trying to heal him that it didn't dilute the alcohol and effects of the potions as much.

Erik rested his elbows on the table, looking around the bar, there were people around even though it had barely passed midday. People travelling the realms were from all kinds of places and time zones.

He took another drink from his beer, looking at the table.

Said I wasn't a soldier, or a medic. The fight had fled him leaving him tired.

"You want another?" Erik tried to hide being startled. The barman looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Maybe you want some food instead?"

"Nah, just tired, uhh yeah I'll take another," Erik cleared his throat and finished off the remains of his beer.

The barman narrows his eyes and shrugged, taking the old beer mug, rinsing it and filling it from a keg.

"Much been going on around these parts?" Erik asked.

"Nah, some of the smaller groups are making moves against one another, but all the groups that have their Violet Sky Realm Tokens have been quiet, saving up their strength for the realm. Heard that there are some schools that are having tournaments for their students to join in on the expedition, rich people huh? Got all the best cultivation resources," He snorted and cut the foam off the top of the beer/potion and walked over, putting the beer back on Erik's table.

"Thanks."

"No problem and let me know if you need any food with that."

"Will do," Erik raised the cup as the barman headed to the next table.

Erik made to tap the table, holding his mug up.

Trial said that I didn't fight for those beside me, didn't fight for those on either side. He tapped the beer against the table and drank deep, trying to not curl his lip.

He knew that he was prolonging the inevitable not going back to Alva right away. He had stayed around the Totem but none of the other party members had shown up so he had come to this bar to think on what had happened.

"Why do you fight?" Erik's words contained heat, thinking on the voice talking down on his reasons. Each he felt burnt into his soul.

"When was it just a question, there has to be something else that I am missing, I have to defeat the golems. If I could learn some more fighting techniques then I could win against them." He remembered them forming up out of the ground in a surge towards him.

He took out his stat sheet for the first time in a long time.

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Name: Erik West

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Level: 77

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Race: Human

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Titles:

From the Grave III

Blessed By Mana

Dungeon Master V

Reverse Alchemist

Poison Body

Fire Body

City Lord III

Earth Soul

Mana Reborn

Metal Mind, Metal Body

Mortal Bloodline

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Strength: (Base 90) +53 (-81)

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1501

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Agility: (Base 83) +105 (-101)

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1081

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Stamina: (Base 93) +30 (-112)

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1937

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Mana: (Base 37) +134 (-84)

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1795

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Mana Regeneration (Base 40) +61 (-85)

51.50/s

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Stamina Regeneration: (Base 142) +59 (-157)

41.20/s

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"I thought that I was at the end of seeing minus signs on my stats. What a mess."

He dismissed the screen, drinking from his beer.

He sighed, looking into his glass.

"If I go back there," I'll just fade into the wood work, getting praise for everyone, being treated like some damn hero. I was just doing my job.

He was scared to face them, to tell them he had lost the trial, that he wasn't strong enough, they'd only protect him more. till he could no longer leave Alva to do anything.

"Haven't been a soldier or a Marine in a long time I guess." He kept sitting there, drinking, trying to numb his thoughts and the pain.

With a grunt he stood up, paying out his tab with some mana stones and headed outside.

The smell of wet mud, wood homes and sounds of carts and carriages passed through the streets with the same hubbub of the city's people going about their business.

Erik moved with them, heading in the direction of the Totem, enjoying the anonymity of being someone in a crowd, lost among it all.

He looked up at the rising towers, that rose to meet the city hanging above from the dungeon ceiling.

The crowds thickened as he reached the totem, traders, fighters, disciples and masters on foot, mounted, in carriages or riding carts.

Erik moved along with the line, reaching the totem all too soon he entered his destination, the city disappeared, and the buildings above were replaced with formation lines carved into Alva's ceiling.

Erik moved with the press of people from the totem to the custom's gates.

Looks like the southern totem.

Another Totem had been built in King's Hill and transported to Alva building a second for themselves, linking them to the outer cities of the Empire which each boasted a totem of their own.

Erik took out his identification medallion.

I should get a chain for all these things, starting to forget which ones are which.

He pressed it to the formation reader.

The guard looked at the information, their eyes widening.

Erik pressed a finger to his lips and winked at the guard, walking past.

"N-next!" The guard got his voice under control as Erik looked at Alva. He smiled at it all, moving, living.

"Excuse me, where is the teleportation pad?" Erik asked a passerby.

"Down there three blocks take a left three more."

"Thanks," Erik walked in the direction the lady had indicated. He passed through the security around the pad and activated the formation, he scrolled through the options that would take him across the Empire. Egbert and the Formation department had created them to connect every city, town and village. Even when under attack Alvans could move about freely. Erik activated it and appeared on another pad.

He tossed a mana stone into a collector and it spit out smaller mana stones on the other side.

Erik stuffed them into his storage ring.

Nice tidy money maker.

He walked through the streets towards home, looking to put Momma Rodriguez's worries to rest.

"Move out of the way!" A voice called, Erik turned to see a group of riders racing through the streets towards downtown.