Overpowered Wizard

Wallenberg looked up as acid rain appeared in a flash above them. He was back on his feet after promising he wouldn’t run away and would answer some questions later for Lady Hannah.

Wallenberg was deeply scared of Lady Hannah’s intense curiosity, but the acid rain concerned him more.

He tried to point it out, but then he noticed how the first few acid drops hurtled away at weird angles.

As all other citizens and visitors sought for cover, the foreign lords, foreign ladies, and their foreign princess walked on merrily, Wallenberg in tow.

The acid rain parted from above them like a curtain pulling apart. Acid puddles and rivulets removed themselves from their path as if an acidic magician compelled them.

They made rules that would restrict such abilities, Wallenberg thought, reminding himself of the foreigner’s impossible game.

He looked back to Lord Zarian and noticed the black lord really had his wizard hat put away, which had seemed like a great item of immense power.

The others kept their strange hats, even Princess Bianca.

Without the hat, Wallenberg noticed Lord Zarian’s full volume of highly curly black hair. It was like Lady Naomi’s more voluminous hair that she adorned with a crooked witch hat.

The black lord and black lady’s hair made Wallenberg think that came about from the black magic they’d used to become what they were.

“I know what you’re thinking, and unfortunately you can’t normally get an awesome and deep tan like mine. This is all natural.” Lord Zarian grinned toothily at Wallenberg as the acid downpour continued to twist and flow out of their way.

Wallenberg stumbled slightly. Embarrassed, his neck heated up. Then he noticed Lady Naomi looking from her psychic blade forging and giving him the side eye.

Wallenberg’s shame grew, his face feeling flushed with more heat under the black woman’s intimidating glare. He tried to think of something to say to separate himself from the crass words of the nobles, but then he thought about the horrible events that occurred just moments ago.

Wallenberg rubbed around his face and tried to refocus on what truly mattered. “Milord, we must flee the city. The militia men and women on the nearest tower and on the ramparts above would’ve surely noticed the commotion at the noble gate. The fact that they aren’t hounding us this instant only means they are coordinating for a bigger attack that will come down on our heads soon!”

Wallenberg was panting and covered in sweat. He felt the magic of his Willpower going up and down unpredictably.

The Willpower stat was the most fickle of them all. It still relied on the core qualities of the person to make the most out of it.

Right now, Wallenberg felt too shaken to keep his Willpower steady, so he made use of it in short bursts. Then, when it collapsed again, he finally let out some of his primal fear.

“You killed a young noble lady! And it was Young Lady Jessica, at that. She’s well connected, too! She’s even in the circle among the Death Lord’s children. And Young Lord Johnathan escaped! The Death Lords will know. The Death Lords will surely give you the worst of deaths!” Wallenberg cried out.

“Nah, we will be a-okay,” Lord Zarian said merrily.

“How?!” Wallenberg was losing control of himself.

He hadn’t acted out like this since the days after the Darkrun Apocalypse. But everyone had acted out of sorts after such a horrid, universe-shattering event. �

But he was far removed from the Darkrun Apocalypse now, so he shouldn’t act this way.

Surely, the foreign nobles would hate him from this display. Then they would kill him for being a nuisance after Lady Hannah had her questions answered.

But Lord Zarian merely laughed it off. He reached over to pat Wallenberg on the shoulder. “I’m being serious. It’s going to be okay, kid. We got you.”

Wallenberg didn’t want to be soothed into a false sense of belief. But Lord Zarian was almost too compelling to deny.

Then Princess Bianca suddenly appeared from behind Wallenberg. She scooped him up from under his shoulders and spun around with him like he was a mere child.

He had to stop himself from kicking wildly, or he might mistakenly hit the princess.

Eventually, the strange and embarrassing whirl-around gesture ended. However, the princess didn’t leave him alone just yet. She poked him in the cheek and drew his full attention with her undeniable charm.

He turned to her slightly and looked up. Instead of seeing some silly, idiotic expression that was still unfairly beautiful on her, he saw a smile that shone gallantly, removing almost all of his fear.

The takeover of his emotions happened suddenly, too. It would’ve been shocking if Wallenberg’s Willpower hadn’t quickly buffed up and become steady.

While still taken aback somewhat, Wallenberg did feel better.

He could focus on more than just the animalistic terror that was groomed into him from all his years living in Crossdeath. He could focus on the strange circumstances that had happened at the private noble gate and were happening now.

“Lord Zarian, are you doing this?” Wallenberg waved up at the acid rain that kept removing itself from above them and from in front of them. “And was it you who put down the militia men and women, and kept them and Petty Lord Julius down?”

The black lord merely smiled.

The statuesque and glamorous princess pressed her pretty lips into a frown. She pointed at Lord Zarian. “You and Para are too overpowered. I should take away the extra traits and make it only aura!”

“Hey, now, it did take some effort to pull that all off without the wizard hat, you know? Para and I make it look easy because we’re badass like that, so please let us play with our traits some more,” Lord Zarian said in defense of himself and his cloak.

Wallenberg’s eyes flew open. Are they truly serious when they say only traits and aura for Lord Zarian?! Did he really take down the militia with just that? I didn’t take that seriously when they came up with those rules, but now I must!

But how?!

Traits were passive abilities. They were supposed to enhance and buff.

Sometimes they would activate based on certain conditions being met. There were probably a few that could engage with the world like a skill, but in a limited fashion.

Wallenberg had a lot more to learn and didn’t know everything, but he was very sure that the basics of the Star System were hard rules.

But the wizard and his living cloak could bend the rules, apparently.

Could all wizards do that?

Maybe I should’ve been a wizard, Wallenberg thought.

Unfortunately, he only knew about wild bugs and the history and culture surrounding Crossdeath. The rare Bug Alchemist class had turned out as his best option during his First Class Advancement.

Maybe what Lord Zarian could do is special to him.

Princess Bianca was glaring at the black lord and his living cloak for quite some time before shrugging her shoulders. “Eh, it’s too late. Dale! We’re in a new city! Give us the tour, Wally! Show us the sites! Oh, and make sure to take us to the ball, too. We need to see that. Maybe we can make our own balls back home, si, si?”

“The ball? You mean the Death Lord Ball? That ball?” Wallenberg blinked.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“Hm, do you feel a drop in your intelligence compared to before? Is that forcing you to ask obvious questions more often than not?” Lady Hannah drilled, moving uncomfortably close to Wallenberg. “What is your purpose as the POV Character? Was I this way when I was a POV Character? I can recall all the details for myself based on my perspective, but I can’t exactly imagine it from outside of my perspective during the dungeon raid. You seem intelligent enough while also a little slow, Wally. Hm, hm. Zarian, was I like this from your view?”

“You were definitely going through some hardcore character growth back then, but I think Wally is a different type of POV Character,” Lord Zarian said.

“Shuddup, shuddup! Just drop this meta crap! Give us the city tour before I lose my shit from hearing these two geek-out again!” Gilbert roared, red in the face, and looking on the verge of going on a drunken rampage.

He’d finished the last cask, but it looked like he could still drink more somehow. He could barely fit in his high-quality armor.

“Yeah! Woo! City tour!” Princess Bianca cheered.

“Mm, yes, I wouldn’t mind more lore about the city as we tour,” Lady Para said from within the folds of Lord Zarian’s cloak.

“This sword will be the greatest sword that ever swords. It will be the sharpest and strongest sword to ever sword. It will be so badass I’ll make Hannah look like less of a crafter compared to me. Heh heh heh heh heh.” Lady Naomi laughed while off to the side.

The folding air above her upturned palms turned more solid and had an eerily erratic outline of a blade with static along the edges. Stranger yet, the weight of that conjured weapon was scarily palpable on Wallenberg’s mind.

The others paid it no attention even though Lady Naomi was acting quite out of sorts.

“Yup, that sounds like doing a tour first, and thinking of meta crap later,” Lord Gilbert insisted.

Lady Hannah groaned in a manner that was almost too childish for someone like her and caught Wallenberg off guard. She gave him a glare, as if pinning the blame on him for everyone else not having her intense curiosity.

Thankfully, Princess Bianca’s encouraging smile helped Wallenberg accept Hannah’s brusque nature as something harmless.

For now.

Lord Zarian didn’t seem to mind either way. If he was right that everything would be ‘a-okay,’ then Wallenberg could try focusing on providing a decent tour.

He could also direct them away from the Death Lord Ball and toward another main gate to exit the city if he was subtle enough.

Besides, the acid rain had stopped. The populace left their stone shelters and returned to the streets. The city became lively again, as it should be in the night hours.

Despite the gruesome parts of living in Crossdeath, there were some unique qualities that nobody would usually see outside of an evil human city. For example, not all the residents were human.

“Is that an actual goblin?” Lady Hannah pointed out, her intense curiosity turning toward someone else for once. “And he’s not corrupted.”

Wallenberg took over from there. “While humans are the dominant populace in Crossdeath, that is only in status. Crossdeath is mainly made up of goblins. You won’t see many of them on the surface because they live deep below in the sewer system and the caverns. They have their own society and culture down there, and they are mostly a part of a big gathering under a single tribe called the Old Death Crawlers.”

“Oh, I can already guess how this all started. First, the goblins lived here. Then humans took over. Old Death Crawlers stayed. Other goblins went elsewhere. Am I right or wrong?” Lord Zarian asked.

Wallenberg opened and closed his mouth. He actually didn’t know who was here first. “I’m not sure.”

They stopped at the corner of a busy market square as a gaggle of green-skinned, four-foot goblins scurried between throngs of humans. The goblins melted in and out of the shadows, the flickering purple firelight and occasional glow of Will O’ Wisps seemed to slide off their slick forms and movements.

Wallenberg always found goblins to be fascinating creatures.

Although he held his fascination from a distance and with his most treasured items tucked away in his most secured spots on his person.

When he looked back at the foreigners, they all seemed absorbed by the sight of the goblins. More so than Wallenberg would expect from them.

“Just wait a little longer, Foodie,” Lord Zarian said.

The others let out a grunt or some sort of verbal affirmation in response to the black lord.

Wallenberg had no idea who or what this Foodie was, but they seemed very important to the foreigners.

Once Lord Zarian finished observing the scurrying goblins, he turned to Wallenberg. “Got anymore for us?”

Thus, Wallenberg served further as a tour guide while also engaged in a covert battle of directing the foreigners to an escape route. But the more Wallenberg tried to move them toward an exit, the more Lord Zarian would thwart his plans by pointing out something else of interest.

Nonetheless, Wallenberg showed them a tour like no other.

He took them to the Volcanic Gardens at the center of Crossdeath.

None of the exhibits there held actual plants. Instead, the power of a past ruler, the Lava Death Lord, had left a mark there during a failed assassination attempt in the year of 1242 D.E.

The razor sharp spires, rippling waves of frozen earth, petrified obsidian structures, and the remaining bodies that died and became fossilized remained after three centuries passed. It was all a stark reminder of the ironclad power belonging to the Death Lords of past, present, and future.

Wallenberg took them to the Gilded Maw, veering closer than he liked toward the Death Lord Mega Manor. He ushered the foreigners through narrow street alleys and into tunnels that led underground.

They swept past cloaked figures and more goblins hurrying through the shadows. After dozens of dizzying turns, they found the infamous auction house that was built against the wall of a massive chasm. A yawning pit of darkness waited below them, ready to accept auctioneers who failed to meet certain obligations.

Wallenberg pointed above how the auction house had no ceiling or roof, granting them the view of many skulls that they’d held as trophies from past conquests and victories.

More purple torches and braziers lit the dark and cavernous chasm as masked nobles, all Petty Lords or ranking officers of the Crossdeath Militia, made bids on nefarious items that most black markets in other kingdoms couldn’t fathom themselves having.

Taking them down here nearly led to a grave mistake when Princess Bianca saw a pair of tall and spiky heeled shoes covered in glistening black and red gems.

Thankfully, Wallenberg figured out a way to keep her from committing a grave folly by promising to take her to a more appropriate marketplace.

They went to the Violet Market, which was a sprawling and chaotic bazaar where even goblins would plant themselves in one spot for interested buyers who might want whatever depraved thing they dug up from deep below. Purple torches, braziers, and even floating magic skulls lit up the bazaar as many peoples from across the Walled Continent and perhaps even further beyond hawked and bartered.

Wallenberg felt some pride swell inside of him as Princess Bianca let loose a shriek of joy and dragged him and the other foreigners into a shopping spree.

Lady Hannah kept sneaking in questions about being the mysterious ‘POV Character.’ Lord Gilbert sampled many foreign beers from around the World of Castles and Caverns. Lord Zarian hovered around Lady Naomi as she continued working on her sword.

Wallenberg found himself yanked away from Lady Hannah and forced into assisting Princess Bianca in picking out dresses, perfumes, jewelry, and many more trinkets that were far beyond his ability to earn as a mere hunter’s son. Yet, Princess Bianca bought him things anyway, despite him begging her not to.

She stuffed it all down into her mystical satchel, which made Wallenberg very, very self-conscious when many others in the market noticed the specialness of the satchel. He somehow urged Princess Bianca and the others out of the Violet Market before things took a turn for the worst.

After that, Wallenberg led them to the Slag River, which led them closer to one of the exit gates. The Slag River was also an interesting phenomenon to see since it was a giant opening in the city where a hot metallic river from underground flowed in full view of the tectonic vent.

Crossdeath wasn’t just a strategic city because of its placement, it was also a city well known for its magically conductive metal exports and creations because of the Slag River.

Lady Hannah was the most impressed by this site and admitted to having temptations to take samples from the river even though that wasn’t allowed.

Somehow, Wallenberg steered her and the others away from such mischief. But in doing so, they moved away from an exit and ended up deeper in the city.

Wallenberg felt his vitality flagging, at least regarding stamina. He hadn’t had time to rest much for a couple of days now.

He looked back at the relentless and energetic foreigners in his charge. They didn’t tire. They thought little of the consequences of their insane requests.

If Wallenberg wasn’t so insistent on steering them away from trouble, they would surely cause a civil war!

Unfortunately, because of his growing weariness, Wallenberg wasn’t quite paying attention to where he was taking them now.

He missed the ominous signs even when they were clear enough, such as wild growths of black-stoned trees with crisscrossing and thorny branches extending up like crown tips. The cobblestone street turned muddy beneath them. The more classical structures made block-by-block either faded from view or merged with the woodsy district.

Then Wallenberg finally snapped to attention. He realized he’d brought the foreigners into another area that contained a different species of intelligent evil beings.

The trolls.

These were specifically from a tribe called the Death Forested Marchers, who were the most battle-tested among the troll tribes. The Troll District of Crossdeath mirrored more of the dark and twisted forests further north of the city.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

While the goblins lived below ground and were quite small, the trolls liked to exist above the surface among the stone-barked trees and had lengthy bodies that stood anywhere from twelve to fifteen feet in height.

The Troll District was normally too dangerous for the likes of Wallenberg. Trolls liked to show off their dominance and abuse their size.

In fact, Wallenberg was doubly sure things were more dangerous when his current company was the type to cause trouble if he wasn’t able to steer them safely from such.

Too bad Wallenberg was too slow to act this time.

Lord Gilbert had already moved ahead of the group. He stopped in front of a mighty male troll standing on a street corner.

Behind the troll was a massive drinking den made of multiple thick-trunk trees. More trolls sat on large and heavy benches made for their size and bulk while slamming giant mugs on reinforced boxes that were as tall as the benches.

Lord Gilbert looked inside, paying no mind to the massive troll already standing in his way.

The troll huffed down with a big and mean smile on his face.

It’s too late, Wallenberg thought. We’ve drawn the full attention of the trolls.