A crowd had amassed in front of the entrance to the thirteenth Trial. Over a hundred dragonslayers and thousands of ninth and eighth realms had come here to wait. They all watched and waited patiently, staring at the five that were camping and roasting meats on a vent that was belching out purple miasma.

  The Chieftain Tyrant was trying to lure some of the higher realm adventurers over with his definitely overseasoned meat. Not a single soul dared to come close, after all, the Passive Tyrant was not in a happy mood.

  Ayla kicked at the ground, blasting up dust and scaring all of the watchers at the same time.

  “Is Lihua really not coming?”

  The Archmage Tyrant sat close by, politely refusing a piece of meat from his Chieftain. “No she is not. Someone needs to stay back and protect the lands from any unsavory individuals.”

  He glared at a particular [Stallmaster Thief] that had believed she was safe hiding in the crowd. She disappeared behind a particular large group of adventurers.

  The Passive Tyrant cared little for their audience. “She was the one that first said waiting until one week left was probably cutting it too close. Then she tells us to wait two more days for a tournament that ended up getting cancelled? What’s she thinking?”

  The Dwarven Tyrant laughed. “Probably not the best thing to talk about with all the hanger-ons.”

  Ayla turned to the crowd, then stared at the multitude of observational skills and spells that were placed on them. Everyone in the higher realms were standing by for the completion. Not for historical reasons, but because when the Highest Trial was completed, the realm expansion would begin.

  Sector Twelve was nearly as large as Sector Ten, nine and eight combined. The current estimates placed Sector Thirteen as seven times as large as the surface area of Earth…

  At minimum.

  With such an enormous new land there’d be new creatures, new resources, new ruins… and perhaps even civilizations.

  But most importantly?

  More dangers to prove yourself. Exploring the unknown was always a boost to achievements that you couldn’t find anywhere else.

  Real, true adventurers would never give up this opportunity.

  Unfortunately, these real adventurers were all also eavesdropping into the Tyrants’ private conversations. Ayla turned to the audience and glared, shattering all their alert skills at the same time.

  “Scram! You have five seconds!”

  Nothing more needed to be said. Everyone, even the strongest adventurers lured by the Chieftain Tyrant’s friendliness, ran away. All magical scrying devices were canceled, observational skills were canceled as everyone used their boosting powers to flee.

  When the Passive Tyrant demanded something, you listened… or she punched you.

  Paul sighed. “You didn’t have to do that, Ayla.”

  Ayla just scratched her neck, glaring at a point in the sky. Towards her.

  “Xav, who is that?”

  The Archmage Tyrant, Xavien, took a moment to find where the Passive Tyrant was looking and found her. It took him three seconds to figure out who it was.

  “Gamielle.”

  One moment, Gamielle was spying at the five Tyrants, hoping that she had improved enough to avoid detection. The next moment the Passive Tyrant blurred up in front of her, giving her a huge smile and hugging her.

  “Gamielle!”

  All the wind was taken out of Gamielle’s lungs as the Passive Tyrant crushed her tightly. “Oof–Auntie Ayla! Please!”

  Then she was dragged down to the rest of the Tyrants. Though it was less of a drag then a meteor blurring to the ground and causing a small tremor. All the fleeing adventurers started running faster, wondering who had been stupid enough to test the Passive Tyrant’s temper.

  Paul hugged her next, gently and kindly, like a big teddy bear. The Archmage Tyrant was a little more stern, he looked at her up and down.

  “You’ve advanced further in your illusions. You aren’t neglecting magical augmentations are you?”

  “N-no, uncle.”

  And suddenly Gamielle was back to being their beloved niece once more. She scowled internally. Ideally, she was supposed to appear and surprise them all, showing off her progress. Instead, she was back to being the child that they all doted on.

  Dwarven Tyrant walked up and slapped her on her back.

  “Hah! Told you it’d be fine.”

  Henry was talking about the fact that he didn’t go with her plan and just told her mother that she’d gone behind her back to tattle on her about Ryan.

  made her lose her temper. “No! It didn’t work out at all! I got grounded and he’s still doing crazy suicidal shit! Did you all not see that hex in the sky?”

  She waved her hands wildly, trying to emphasize the madness her mother was doing. It didn’t work. None of them understood what that soulrot hex meant, nor would they believe her if she told them.

  None perhaps except for the Archmage Tyrant who looked the other way in shame. It was a miracle her mother wasn’t pulling her back already. had changed after the events from the tournament and Gamielle had a feeling that her mother wasn’t even watching her anymore.

  For some reason that made her more anxious, not less.

  Ayla sighed, then looked up at her. Gamielle was taller than the Passive Tyrant, which was still a weird feeling, though taller didn’t mean bigger. The Passive Tyrant’s presence wrapped the world as it seemed to cradle her gently. Or at least as gently as a giant could hug a human she supposed.

  “It’ll be fine. She didn’t shatter that boy’s sword right? Just trust that your mom has a plan, she always does the right thing in the end. It’s just hard to see sometimes.”

  They were back to this. It was like her mother had a spell on her allies. To them, Xie Lihua the Witch Pioneer could do no wrong, it always worked out in the end. and Gamielle was just a worried child to them.

  Again.

  She was about to change tact when Paul moved towards her. The Chieftain Tyrant was always good at noticing her discomfort. He kneeled in front of her, the kind, happy orc looking at her with more than a bit of pain on his face. Gamielle didn’t like appearing in front of Paul. Seeing his pain whenever he looked at her was one of the most difficult things she endured.

  “It’s okay, Gamgam. We will complete the Trial System and you will come back and everything will be alright. Just have faith in us.”

  A kind giant beamed down on her

  Gamielle blinked away the tears. She hugged the orc so that he couldn’t see her cry.

  Ayla, not one that was comfortable around gushing emotions, stood up and stretched.

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  “Alright, should we get going?”

  Xavien shook his head. “We still need to wait a day and a bit.”

  “Oh yeah.”

  –

  The dark oppressive atmosphere of the Cataclysm Abyss was replaced by a narrow wooden stairway. For a moment it reminded Ryan of his first Trial. When he had first entered and was placed on top of a flight of stairs.

  Except this time instead of unexpected zombies littering the area, there was the bustling activity of a popular tavern below. He took a deep breath and sighed.

  He was back in the Trials and he was free.

  The craziest part?

  He truly was free. This kind of result was something that very, very few people had ever received. In fact, it was so rare that nobody believed the first person to declare that this was even possible. If he recalled correctly, the person’s name was Ambert. Not that it was that important. She was dead.

  At least until the Witch decided to revive her and put her in his way.

  A scream startled Ryan out of his thoughts. Someone behind him had opened their room door to see him and screamed in fear.

  “Oops.”

  Ryan took off his Artigan mask and placed it loosely on his pouch. Then he crystallized his aura with both [Aura Command] and [Ambient Resource Utilization]. Two Epics and a Rare skill working in tandem to try to keep his fear passive in check. A thick glass like aura of red surrounded his arm, mostly covered by Larix’s long sleeves.

  Though his hand still poked out at the end.

  That wouldn’t do. So Ryan drew his aura wrapped arm into the sleeve and kept it near his torso. While the bulge did make him look like he had an injured arm in a splint, the flapping right sleeve of his midnight black robes made him look like he had chosen some interesting fashion decisions instead.

  After that was all sorted, he made his way down the stairs. As Ryan walked past the patrons the bar slowly quietened down. They all looked up at him, though at least they weren’t running and screaming.

  Ryan sat down by the bar as the bartender with a paunch eyed him warily.

  “The hell is that on your back?”

  “A magical golem created by a realm eight monster. Also a mana cannon from a long lost civilization.”

  The bartender paused, then laughed uneasily. “Good joke!”

  Ryan laughed too. “Yeah, I’ve got no idea what these are, found them in a dungeon and none of the mages thought it was anything useful. Hoping I’ll find someone that doesn’t think they’re junk.”

  The slightly too loud but casual conversation made everyone chuckle and settle back into their own circles. Ryan had the golem crafted by Rick kind of hanging on his back like a backpack. Its limbs held together in a backpack like fashion.

  The mana cannon though. That was probably what was drawing everyone’s attention. It was completely out of place here and made with metals they couldn’t identify. With glowing engravings that they couldn’t read. Ryan was hoping he wouldn’t get caught up in any silly muggings carrying this thing out.

  Funnily enough, there wasn’t any hostility or greed he could detect from the patrons. This was probably a more secure place with healthy people.

  Had the Trial System truly just placed him in a safe place because it couldn’t give him a challenge? Now that wasn’t something he knew enough about.

  “So, what can I get you?”

  “I don’t have any money on me. Fresh out at the moment. Do you know a good place to sell some stuff?”

  “Uto’s likes to collect interesting bits and baubles. He’s two streets down the left, you can’t miss it.”

  “Thanks! I’ll be sure to come back for a drink.”

  “Yeah of course. Take your time.”

  …

  “Where the fuck did that advanced classer come from?”

  “Shut up, he might be able to hear us.”

  Ryan heard those words even as he exited the building and into a bustling street. He hadn’t missed the pool of sweat running down on the bartender’s neck. Nor the side-eying of the patrons. Apparently they were good at detecting someone in a higher realm than they were.

  Or it might have been the fact that his left arm was leaking crackling volatile mana. While it dissipated somewhat quickly, it wasn’t something that anyone with keener senses would miss.

  Or maybe it was just that his fear passive wasn’t quite covered up nicely with his ‘solution’.

  “Whoops, advance too quickly and you have problems I guess.”

  Ryan walked down the street as most people gave him a wide berth. It was a vibrant, medieval city with actual magic. A peaceful one that had won the war against the demons and enjoyed their prosperity.

  Mostly humans with a few elves sprinkled in. Though the elves were never alone and in their own groups. Still, children walked with families, elders taking a stroll alone showing it was… probably safer than the neighborhood that Barry lived in.

  Which was funny if you thought about it.

  Less funny if you really thought about it.

  Still, Ryan was free. Five days of freedom to run amok and do as he pleased. Fifteen days to practice getting his arm under control, then five days to prepare for the next confrontation against the Manager.

  That was the plan anyway.

  He kept walking, taking the sights of a perfect magically inclined medieval city. There was a magnificent mage tower a couple blocks away from him, red tiled roofing with black bricks that shone with runes. Human adventurers with gnarled weapons designed to slay large monsters. Veteran soldiers down in the dumps now that they had nothing to do.

  The smell wasn’t the best though, Ryan had to sort of tune out his advanced nose when a particularly smelly horse walked past him.

  It was still great.

  Ryan took it all in as he walked around, whistling and attracting attention. Yeah, there was no way he wasn’t spending the entire twenty five days allotted to him here. It was all to train his skills of course. After all, learning to manage his powers so that they didn’t become a problem to others around him was absolutely crucial after all.

  If the place to train was conveniently everything he’d ever dreamed of then–

  His mind came to a screeching halt as he spotted something in the distance.

  A raised wooden platform. One small figure standing to a small crowd of people with masks. There was a gleam of avarice in those eyes behind the masks that broke his idyllic fantasy world.

  A man stood next to the boy, greed and true evil on his face.

  “And the next lot! A young demon, easier to tame than the older ones. Bidding starts at fifty gold!”

  Respectable onlookers either turned away in disgust or stared in hate towards the demons in chains. That likely meant that it hadn’t been a long standing tradition of this world.

  For a second that felt like an eternity, Ryan stared at the soulless eyes of the child.

  And Ryan took out his own mask and put it on.

  Slavery wasn’t a foreign concept to him. Adventurers would often come across it in the Trials. A handful of Kings and Queens had gone mad in their realizations that they were trapped in the Trial System forever. Some of them had decided to revel in the debauchery, causing chaos in a consequence free world.

  Adventurers did talk about how horrible slavery was. The idea of having your freedom taken away. Ryan did know slavery was bad. It was supposed to be one of the worst things in the world.

  It was just a concept to him.

  At least until now.

  He wasn’t even thinking as he appeared on top of the platform, kneeling in front of the demon child. The audience and the slave trader startled at the sudden appearance of a silver haired elf in their midst. Ryan didn’t think about them, his eyes were on the child.

  “”

  “A-number fourteen.”

  “What’s your actual name? The ones your parents gave you.”

  The child’s eyes showed a flicker of fear, then he glanced at the slave trader. The trader finally gained enough composure to both gesture towards the guards. Then he spoke at Ryan.

  “Hey knife ears! If you’re interested in him then you’ll have to join the bidding like everyone else!”

  Ryan felt like someone had wiped grease in his ears. He glared at the auctioneer.

  “”

  The air was awash with blood and ash. Everyone started choking as the guards halted in their tracks. The slave auctioneer took a step back. Though perhaps his survival instincts weren’t quite as developed as everyone else’s.

  “W-we have been ordained by Duchess Rudalia herself.” The trader stammered at first, seemingly gaining confidence as he spoke. “King Theskar himself has given right of rule–”

  “”

  “Wha– guards! What–”

  “I wasn’t talking to you.”

  That was the last thing the auctioneer heard as his head came cleanly off his shoulders. A cutting motion from a blade of red that nobody had seen being drawn. The screaming started then. Guards fled from him. The onlookers fled at the sight of a monster bearing down on them.

  Except for those in the masks. His barely contained aura exploded out in full, drawing the sounds of everyone and everything else.

  [Aura Command: “Kneel.”]

  Every single one of the people that came to bid on slaves today was kneeling. Some had slammed down with so much force that their kneecaps had broken. The only ones that didn’t feel the terror were those in chains. Instead they felt a sense of reverence, a firm guiding hand that promised them no harm should they obey.

  The demon child’s eyes were transfixed on the slaver’s head. The one that was rolling on the ground.

  Ryan’s words broke him out of his reverie. “I’m sorry. I never thought about something like this. I’ll make it right though.”

  The demon child turned to the silver haired elf with complete incomprehension.

  A spear flew at Ryan’s head. By the time it actually got through his aura, it was so slow that all he had to do was reach out and grab it. A glance was all it took to make the adventurer pale and flee in fear. Ryan spun the spear and casually threw it at the kneeling masked buyers.

  The spear went straight through a line of people, tearing through their bodies like they weren’t even there. The spear was perfectly intact by the end of it.

  The masked people started screaming then, trying to force their bodies to move.

  The screams startled the child he was talking to . That would not do.

  “Silence.”

  And the world turned silent. Most of the people immediately shut up. Those that didn’t were muted, like their voices couldn’t get through anything.

  Like a charm that had suddenly worn off, the demon’s eyes seemed to have life again. Ryan tried again.

  “What is your name?”

  “My name is Agrinth! Thank you, but you should flee before the army comes.”

  Ryan saw the guards rapidly assembling, trying to cordon off the area, hoping to hell that he wouldn’t be coming their way.

  “We have a saying where I’m from. That adventurers know when to flee.”

  He hefted the stripped metallic golem with his hand. It whirred to life. The metallic skeletal creation emanating pressure that made the guards all pale. It walked to the other demons in chains and started freeing them.

  Ryan’s eyes were still on Agrinth.

  “Fortunately, this isn’t one of them.”

  Ryan extended a hand to the demon child, breaking the collar and shackles created for children, then stood up. He offered a hand. The child delicately took it.

  “Well Agrinth, let’s get out of here and fix your world, shall we?”

  They walked out of the city.

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