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Godfather's System 53 (Interlude, Zolast)
🕑 Added 2023-04-20 20:52:23 +0000 UTCZolast didn’t remember the last time he felt this conflicted…
No, that was a bald-faced lie. No, he still remembered his greatest conflict, when he had learned the truth about the System and the Gods, confused about what to do with the truth … not that he had handled it well, ending up with a curse from the god he served, an excommunication from the temple he lived, and an order of death from the comrades he had fought together…
He chose poorly, and ended up on the other side of the world, at the edge of the world where they would never seek him, consigned to live ignobly until he died … of natural causes, as the wilderness was not really dangerous to him, not even with the curse that turned him to a shadow of himself.
He was resigned to languishing in a life of nothingness, managing a small restaurant, acting as a chef … only for a Chaos Incursion to happen at a spitting distance, forcing him to join the exodus of refugees. He deliberately let himself kicked into one of the least organized camps, hoping to drift away…
He was realizing he wasn’t the only one that picked that route.
Euon, or whatever his name was, was the source of his current conflict.
He hadn’t paid much attention to him the first time he had visited his poor food cart. Just another refugee, an old man, down on his luck, wearing rags, without support, destined to drift along. Zolast quickly forgot him, most of his attention on the way the camp had been transforming.
The growth of the gangs had caught him by surprise. He hadn’t been expecting them to grow that fast, nor had he expected them to strong-arm others in such a visible fashion. But with the young noble that was supposed to rule the camp acting even more passively than a usual noble, some of them saw the opportunity, and soon, Zolast found himself without a guard.
Even with the curse impairing him, he had the ability to strike back … but not while hiding his class. He never had been a particularly strong melee fighter, and with the curse sapping his abilities he was even weaker.
When he was confronted by the Blacks, he found himself in a sticky situation. He had no intention of allowing a bunch of thugs to treat him like a slave, but revealing his abilities had other consequences…
It was when things devolved. The man who Zolast had written off as a helpless refugee showed that he was nothing but helpless as he took down the thugs, shocking him in the process.
Zolast wasn’t surprised by the physical capabilities he had displayed. No, while they were impressive compared to most in the camp, ultimately, the camp was filled with farmers, servants, and other worker classes, and not even particularly strong examples of such.
It was the smaller details that captured his attention. The way he positioned himself, the way he intimidated them, the way he delivered orders aftermath…
A man that was used to command.
Zolast would have assumed that he was an undercover noble … if it wasn’t for one important detail.
He didn’t sense the weight of the Charisma. No command aura, no suggestion, nothing. And, while the curse impaired his senses greatly, it wasn’t to a point of missing such an obvious action. Signs of Charisma were very noticeable for anyone that knew what to search for.
No, the old man manipulated the situation without a hint of Charisma, far better than even a knight commander could handle. A man that was used to command.
That only made Zolast more confused. Even if he didn’t have a strong class or too high of a level — at least in terms of the standards he was used to — it didn’t make a man like that stay in the shadows. If his life taught him anything, it had taught that a man would find it difficult to lower his head once he got a taste of power.
Curious and alarmed in equal degrees, Zolast followed him rather than trying to escape from the camp. He was interesting, and his protection would allow him to keep his abilities hidden.
“Oh, how was I mistaken,” he murmured as he pulled his energy once more, melting the silver in his hands to form another delicate line.
[-2 Health]
He expected the old man to continue playing safe, but the moment the young noble left the camp for a hunt, taking most of the archers with him, he had burst into action, and the situation slowly forced Zolast to reveal more of his abilities, far more than he was comfortable with.
Worst, he couldn’t even blame the old man for that. The situation after the departure of the young noble was difficult. Their camp was abandoned by the larger group, ordered to stay until their return, while the monster attacks got more and more intense. The action was necessary before people were helplessly slaughtered, something Zolast was not willing to let pass.
He might have been abandoned by his temple, but he didn’t abandon his oaths.
Luckily, following the lead of the old man was easier than trying to take action himself. No matter what, he didn’t want to reveal his offensive capabilities in any other situation than a desperate last stand, so it suited him when the old man took ensuring the safety of the camp in a more indirect manner.
There, Zolast received another shock. The ease he took the larger beasts, showed that he had misjudged the combat abilities of the old man. Worse, Zolast had no idea whether it was the extent of his abilities, or he was keeping it hidden… Rather than taking power in the camp when the opportunity presented, he pushed Jertann forward as the leader. A young, eager lad that Zolast approved as well.
Zolast was inclined to believe that he was what he claimed. A retired old man, looking for comfort, but that left an important question … what was the job he retired from.
The way he chose to collect the silver that was needed for the Leveling Ward didn’t help him to understand the truth. It had been three days since that fateful event when Zolast revealed to him his great need for silver if they were to establish an independent ward, fully expecting him to reveal more of himself if he tried to do so. He was sure that their camp didn’t have that much-unused silver, meaning he would have to reach other contacts if he had any, or accept the impossibility of the objective.
Either way, it would help Zolast.
He hadn’t been expecting the insurmountable problem he had created to be solved in just hours. It was surprising when he established a gambling ring, especially with the rumors about his disastrous ability. That didn’t surprise Zolast much, as he wouldn’t be the only capable man that ruined himself due to a misunderstanding about his capabilities.
So, he was rather surprised when, in just a few hours, not only he managed to establish a gambling operation, but also managed to hit other gangs rather hard when they tried to cheat him. Only then Zolast realized the earlier disaster had been a bait … one that worked spectacularly, giving him an excuse to go and shake the Reds and the Blacks, both revealing the possession of more silver than Zolast expected them to have.
He underestimated the gangs, and that resulted in huge overwork. It had been three days since then, and he was still working on the creation of the array.
“How the mighty have fallen,” he murmured, looking at the almost-completed low-grade array in front of him. Before the curse, it would have taken mere minutes to create such a weak array, and now, three days of dedicated work was barely enough.
Still, he carefully listened to the gossip in the camp during the breaks, tracking the changes. Jertann had been working hard to help people gather the necessary experience for promotion, ready to go once the ward was complete.
A critical need, with the monsters' attacks getting more and more intense.
Yet, Zolast was paying more attention to what the old man was doing, focused on his gambling operation more than the security of the camp, at least on the surface, but Zolast heard him intervening in conflicts between the Reds and the Blacks several times, resolving things to the benefit of the Blues, yet without dismantling them.
His objectives were still as mysterious as his identity and his abilities…
Not that he could blame him, he thought even as he called his status screen.
[Class: High Priest
Level: 100]
