Overpowered Wizard

“Everyone, I think that’s it for training. It’s time we hunker down and review our notifications,” Zarian said.

It was Early Summer, and he was standing on a giant skull-shaped crenulation on a massive rampart ridgeline. They still had some ways to go before reaching the top of the mountainous terrain where the actual Castle Grimrock stood.

When he turned back the way his party had come, he saw portions of the Walled Continent stretched out before him like a wild, mystical, patchwork quilt.

Down below him, where bundles of minor fortresses, castles, stone forests, and more flowed in dips and rises along the sides of the castle mountains, he saw the tiny gray patch of the Old Goblin Forest.

In that forest at the foot of the Grimrock Castle Mountains, the reforming Crossdeath Region teemed with people going about their lives in new and unforeseen ways.

Crossdeath belonged to Zarian and his friends now, and there was little that Baron Han the Realtor could do about it.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

The drider could attempt to reclaim his city, but Zarian imagined he would be deathly afraid of crossing paths – or swords – with Lady Naomi the Sky Bringer, which was how many in Crossdeath referred to her. Hell, even the others had nicknames, such as Lady Hannah the Knight Destroyer and Princess Bianca the Sunshine Heraldess.

Zarian had heard the name Wizard Hunter given to him. If that showed up in his origins, then he would fully own it.

With all of that infamy, it was fairly easy for Zarian to make his case for total city domination with the aristocracy. Especially after he’d gotten rid of the Berserk Death Lord and the Poison Death Lord along with the temples of Sickspread and Killall.

They’d acted a little too slow on adapting to the change in management. Zarian hadn’t seen why they should stick around among the mortals and the living, especially when he learned the Bramblevale Bandits and Drax the Unbeatable were underlings of the Berserk Death Lord, who was supposed to put Zarian in his place, apparently, for messing up operations down in the Eternal Garden Kingdom.

Hell, the Berserk Death Lord had even shown off his Aura Ignition.

Zarian had laughed and laughed at the man’s weak and pathetic version of Aura Ignition.

Once Zarian had gotten ridden both Death Lords and their associated temples, it almost felt like he was tying a loose end or two. The completionist in him had felt great about that.

As for the Goldhound Temple and the Ghost Death Lord, Zarian had cut a deal.

Evil God Goldhound was still a bastard, and still on the naughty list, but Goldhound was a simple god to work with as long as he’d gained riches. Maybe one day the god could redeem himself and get off the naughty list, but Zarian wouldn’t hope for it.

The Ghost Death Lord was the most practical and least torture happy noble. Zarian had found him decent enough to work with, placing the ghost guy as a surrogate ruler in place of the Dark Lord and his friends.

What did all of this mean for Ride-or-Die Village, the Blood Prairie Savages, and Crossdeath itself?

Zarian had no freaking clue.

Things had gotten out of hand compared to the original plan.

The Floridians had gotten sucked into Wallen’s story just as much as Wallen had gotten swept up by the freewheeling attitude of the Floridians.

Zarian had originally planned to tour Crossdeath and move on, honestly. He hadn’t planned to rock the boat whatsoever.

But the moment he’d felt Wallen become important, everything shifted into a crazier and dynamic flow of events. Then, suddenly, Zarian and his fellow Floridians had become owners of an entire evil civilization filled with over a thousand years of lore as part of their growing hoard, somehow.

It had happened like being on a mega drunk bender.

The crazy part was how there had been little special about Wallen other than him being a rare alchemist. If it wasn’t for how he looked like poor Wally and felt important, Zarian would’ve overlooked Wallen.

Though, Zarian also had to admit Wallen was a smart enough guy and decently moral for someone who’d grown up in an evil city. Zarian also had to admit Wallen had reacted greatly to events with the Floridians, making everything extra fun while teaching them a lot as they went.

It had become quite easy for mostly everyone, especially Bianca, to get invested in the kid.

The whole mini arc ending with Wallen starting fresh and living a better life back in Ride-or-Die Village had left a positive impression on everyone before they had to get serious again.

It felt like being part of a feel-good power fantasy arc, Zarian thought. Too bad I forgot to give Wallen some Level 0 skills, but I’m sure he’ll adapt on his own in the village. He’s scrappy enough.

After leaving behind Crossdeath and all the chaos and changes happening there, Zarian and the others picked up with their hardcore training with each other or with their mythical cursed items.

They’d practiced more caution compared to before, because Jack could appear at any moment while they scaled to the top of the castle mountains.

Zarian believed his people had the upper hand in straight up power. But he didn’t want to underestimate a hateful and angry man like Jack. The dude was so messed up he’d snapped Gilbert’s neck just because the healer wanted to join up with Zarian and the others.

Such a man could accomplish miraculous things out of pure spite and hate. Zarian figured the Good Gods would also get involved if they could somehow get past this being Shadowfell territory.

Then again, the Prime Archbishop and an army of Paladins were somewhere raging war right now. It was to where Zarian could hear distant clashes of heavy magic riding on the winds across the peaks and ridges of the castle mountains.

Wherever they were, Zarian imagined they had certain obstacles keeping them from completing their crusade. That had Zarian curious about what awaited him and his friends.

Zarian could feel it in the air. They were in for one hell of a time with their return to Grimrock.

More importantly, he could feel the insistent ‘ding, ding, ding’ from the Star System in his head.

The Star System had reached its withholding limits.

Zarian could tell the others were getting the same ‘ding, ding, ding’ in their heads based on the annoyed looks on Gilbert’s and Bianca’s faces.

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Yeah, it was time to review their notifications and acknowledge their gains.

Some of their growth had already become a part of them, even if they hadn’t reviewed it themselves. Other gains needed their direct attention to come into effect, such as rewards from any achievements they’d earned.

Zarian glanced down at the thing he held in his hands. It was the mythical box containing his cursed item: the Barbed Crown of Ravthar the Absolute King.

He’d worked with this thing for nearly two months and he had yet to overcome it fully. Para could handle it better, but it was still an ass kicker for her as well.

Mythical items were a big deal, no doubt, and he and Para weren’t alone with their struggles to fully master the cursed items. Everybody more or less had struggled with these things, but the pain of fighting off the curses would definitely yield some rewards.

I really need to do some nice things for Ruvaria when I get the chance, Zarian thought. She’s been a big help to us, and it’s really out of the kindness of her heart.

Zarian placed the box in Para’s pocket dimension.

He turned back and glanced over the edge of the fifty-foot skull-shaped crenelation. He saw the others milling about on the rugged, blocky rampart floor except Hannah.

The Runic Engineer was searching for the right spot to dig and build a comfortable hideout so they could have some privacy for their overdue notifications and status review.

Gilbert had taken up a spot near a swirling pond made from dozens of little streams. He had his enchanted fishing rod out while sipping slowly on an uncommon beer, which was fairly soft for him these days.

Zarian ignored the ‘ding, ding, ding’ in his head and smiled a small but mischievous smile. He heard Para let out a little sigh from the folds of the cloak before he skipped off the crenelation and dropped next to Gilbert.

“Hello,” Zarian greeted.

Gilbert took another slow sip from his drink and squinted at Zarian. When he lowered the barrel-shaped container, he took his time before responding.

“You’re acting weird,” Gilbert grumbled.

“What do you mean, dear Gilbert?” Zarian asked.

“Ugh, there it goes. You keep doing that. Being creepy and not hitting me with some jacked up punchline. What is it, Zarian? Just spit it out!” Gilbert shouted, shaking his drink and fishing rod.

“I have nothing to spit out. Is there something wrong?” Zarian tilted his head, keeping the small and creepy smile on his face.

“Hannah, can you please find us somewhere to camp down so this guy can get off my case! I swear if we’re not training he’s acting like my demented shadow!” Gilbert yelled.

“It shouldn’t be an issue if I take my time to find the perfect location,” Hannah said flatly. “If Zarian had done nothing wrong, and you have done nothing, then you can just hang around like brothers, dear Gilbert.”

The Knighted Healer was gobsmacked from Hannah’s response. He turned desperately to Bianca and Naomi who were doing slow and meditational martial dances with each other.

Bianca would swing a sword of light and Naomi would meet it with a punch or kick, clashing a little, before twisting into another part of their flowing drill. Ever since making the sharpest sword to ever sword, Naomi had incorporated more sharpness techniques into her psychic abilities.

She’d gotten better at making her hands and feet into sharp blades that could meet Bianca’s blades of light edge-to-edge. Both women seemed to enjoy themselves while going back and forth with their meditative training, sometimes striking soft, or sometimes striking hard enough to send sparks flying.

Gilbert interrupted them with a yell. “Why is Zarian doing this?! He’s been at this for weeks!”

Bianca pirouetted and swung her sword of light again before replying in a calm and neutral tone. “Perhaps you did something bad, dear Gilbert.”

Naomi shifted gracefully on her bare feet before kicking up. She clashed the edge of her foot lightly with the shining sword. “If you did nothing wrong, then there’s no reason to be bothered, dear Gilbert.”

The poor Knighted Healer looked betrayed by the ladies. He shivered as he turned and noticed Zarian drawing closer. The cloak wavered around both men monstrously.

“Para?!” Gilbert cried out desperately, throwing down his rod and beer. “Make them stop!”

“I believe there is a ritual from your old world where confessing can ease your burdens, but to withhold will only make the burdens grow heavier until they become a hell of your own making,” Para said in a scholarly tone. “If there is something you wish to say, then free yourself of your burdens, dear Gilbert!”

“Gaaaaah!” Gilbert snapped, and Zarian let out an evil laugh as the poor man confessed what they all knew. “I slept with the dagnabbit troll women! Okay? Okay?! I don’t know how it happened! I can’t say why it happened! But it happened! I woke up under a pile of them, and now you all know! God help me!”

Gilbert breathed hard and deep. He wiped the sweat prickling on his brow. He looked down, then he looked up at Zarian.

“My son,” Zarian said, “all will be forgiven in my house of the faith, the shield, and the holy beer. You must only believe in me, your Zombie Jesus.”

Gilbert balled his fist and shook it with silent fury at Zarian. That was all he could do, just fume silently and shake his fist at the Madness Wizard.

He’d done whatever inhuman and ungodly acts that came with bedding thirteen-foot tall troll women. He had no moral leg to stand on right now, and maybe not for a long while.

It was to where the troll women had called Gilbert the Troll Slayer.

Or was it the Troll Layer?

Naturally, Zarian saved the trump card for the next time Gilbert thought he could get uppity or holier-than-thou.

Especially when it might show in his origins.

For now, Gilbert sat and took the ribbing like a decent lad.

They eventually moved on once Hannah found the perfect spot under the surface. She dug down and created a hotel-style bunker with luxurious amenities, flowing water, and the other nifty bells and whistles. It didn’t take her much time at all.

Once everyone had gone down, Hannah sealed the main entrance with a legendary door. She reinforced the entire bunker with layers of enchantments. There were no worries of running out of air. The bunker came with magic air vents.

Zarian, Naomi, Bianca, Gilbert, and Hannah gathered in a triple tiered sunken room with large mounds of bean bags filled with the softest monster fur. Each bean bag came with enchantments that made them supernaturally comfy.

Bianca let out little shrills and one long scream as she thrashed and luxuriated on Hannah’s enchanted bean bag chair.

Zarian doubled up with Para transforming into soft folds stacked on top of his beanbag.

Naomi looked over. She shook her hand toward Zarian and Para. “Gimme, please,” she demanded.

The Parasite Cloak +2 (or +3?) extended thick ropes and tendrils of material over to Naomi and piled up under her, adding more folds stacked on her beanbag. Thus, Naomi got to enjoy the same treatment as Zarian.

Bianca looked over in envy but didn’t demand the same from Para. Ever since leaving Crossdeath, she’d acted more reserved around Zarian.

Granted, Zarian had a hunch of why that was. Gilbert wasn’t the only one getting scrutinized.

Zarian had said some bold things he probably shouldn’t have said back in Crossdeath.

Bianca remembered everything. She squinted at Zarian with a little knowing smirk.

Zarian sighed. Not important right now. The review is.

“Before we get started, I just want to say this.” Zarian sat up in his seat. He looked into everyone’s eyes as they focused on him. Then he spoke his piece:

“We went hard. Like, really, really hard, and pushed ourselves in ways that’s so insane and tough I know we’ve made some great strides in our power. With that said, we might not get crazy explosive growth just because we worked hard.

“We’re doing this because we are committed to the grind and to make our way to the top to do what we want. Whether it’s providing a lot of help to people in need or to achieve a personal level of power where we can control whatever we want or it’s being so strong we can fight whatever we want. Whatever have you here along for the ride, you are doing the hard work. And doing that hard work is part of who we are now.

“So let’s reap what we sow and keep in mind it’s going to get even better once we free our goblin cook and get to eat her delicious meals whenever we want!”

Zarian finished with a sigh, releasing some built up tension from his body. The anticipation was killing him, and he could sense the same from the others as they cheered and clapped.

Naomi put the cherry on top.

“Fucking finally,” she growled, baring fangs and crawls from her huntress skill. “No more damn dinging! Let’s see those stats and gains! And let’s go free Foodie!”

Everybody opened up their notifications and dove straight in. Zarian opened his eyes wide and beheld all the new additions after a long stretch of not checking for two months.

It wasn’t too crazy, but it was still quite glorious for him. For the others in his party who were on the weaker side, such as Hannah, their gains were immense, maybe even OP, bringing them up closer to Zarian and Naomi.

Then again, even Overwhelming Darkness had grown.