Overpowered Wizard

The rainfall was heavy. But the flooding was light. Unlike Miami, Central Bramblevale figured out how to funnel water off their stone streets using a proper storm drain system.

Zarian could hear the roar of flowing water through the storm drain openings he and Gilbert passed as they made their way to their destination. He also heard shouts from rushing soldiers running about in search of the ‘villains’ who had invaded their city.

They were having a hard time noticing Zarian and Gilbert because of the enchanted gear camouflaging their presence. Yeah, Hannah had done a good job, even if she believed she was limited.

At the very least, Zarian’s Dark Affinity helped cover them even further. They were unnoticeable to the soldiers on the lookout.

Eventually, the black wizard and the war healer left behind the soldiers. They entered a new district of Central Bramblevale. It was livelier here, filled with stone towers festooned with banners and flags thrusting into the rainy sky. Magic lights lit up the main streets.

It looked magical and beyond what Zarian knew of a simple medieval town. There were large stores and restaurants constructed completely out of stone. There was even a park with an intricate garden maze and an enormous fountain in the middle. It would’ve been a nice place to walk through and enjoy.

But Zarian and Gilbert were wanted men. And there were a bunch of miserable beggars everywhere.

Zarian stopped to look at them all, feeling a rise of discomfort. It hadn’t been too long since he was like them, poor and hungry and wet.

“My bad for walking out like that,” Gilbert apologized.

They were standing in the mouth of an alley, engulfed by layers of dark shadows Zarian was manipulating. Before them was a lit up public street. Scores of people passed them even while under the rain.

Zarian barely heard the apology as he looked over the beggars. A lot of them were older women or young men with obvious disabilities, missing arms, legs, and many injuries they’d earned from combat.

Zarian kept looking and finding the same issue. The women were middle-aged, while the disabled men were mostly in their twenties.

The people passing by them, ignoring the beggars, were well-dressed and preppy men, some young, many old. The men had an air of affluence around them, but they weren’t the majority of the crowd. The gangs of young women following the affluent men were the majority.

Gilbert rubbed his hand behind his neck. “If I ever see that bastard Jack again … I swear I’ll …” Gilbert trailed off as he noticed something was wrong with Zarian. “Chief?”

“I get it now. It’s not just a kingdom of harems.” Zarian turned to Gilbert and looked up, his face still shrouded under his hood. “It’s a kingdom of bastards.”

Gilbert looked around. Zarian waited for the man to realize what was wrong by examining the present situation.

“Why are all these young guys left injured?” Gilbert asked.

“They’ve served as soldiers and didn’t die from their injuries. Instead of getting them the help of a proper healer, the kingdom left them to fend for themselves.” Zarian’s voice became a dark growl. “They throw away their veterans after sending off a bunch of young men to fight and die for them. Or to be sacrificed as tributes.”

“With the young men gone, and the women left within the walls, it’s one hell of a way to make a mess of your own population,” Gilbert said. “What for?”

“For control? Whatever else for? That’s why adventuring is outlawed. The women can’t do anything about that until they get a class and some skills at Level 10. And the men are indoctrinated early, so their class and skills are shaped for the purposes of the kingdom.”

“Was it always like this?”

“This used to be a kingdom of elves. They aren’t here. I don’t know why. Maybe the elves and orcs wiped each other out. But what’s left over is this.” Zarian shook his head. “Come on. Let’s get the operation done with. We’re not here to be heroes.”

Gilbert had something he wanted to say, but Zarian turned away quickly, his cloak sweeping around behind him. He stuck to the alleyways and away from the main streets, only getting small glimpses of the wider and more public areas whenever he crossed a junction.

Gilbert followed silently behind him, but the journey wasn’t without locals getting in the way.

There were more sick, disabled, and miserable people in the alleys they’d crossed through. Zarian tensed, trying not to think about how he had once been the same. He looked up at the rainy sky and considered taking the aerial route.

“Hold up, chief,” Gilbert said. “Just hold up.”

Zarian stopped, his evil alignment whispering to him. The thoughts that came to mind were heinous.

Jaw clenched, Zarian crushed his evil alignment, squeezing tight until it complied. He watched Gilbert crouch in front of a child with legs bent at odd angles.

“Do you have food, milord?” asked the young boy.

“Not on me right now.” Gilbert held his free hand down. “But I can do this much for you.”

Zarian felt the Healing Force skill activate. It was a curious ability to watch – most of it came out as magic until it transitioned into something else that Zarian couldn’t quite grasp.

Gilbert had explained the other end of Healing Force was the health-based portion of vitality, something Gilbert could sense better than Zarian.

The boy was Level 1. He had little vitality. Gilbert used a very light touch of his Healing Force and fixed the boy’s legs almost instantly. The power of Healing Force went so far as fixing many of the boy’s ailments, making him whole and healthy.

“There. It might take a while to teach yourself to walk or run. But the practice will be worth it,” Gilbert explained, standing up.

The boy stared down at his perfect legs, unable to say a word. The nearest beggars looked with wide eyes as well.

Before they kicked up a commotion, Gilbert waved his hand around and pushed out some more of his Healing Force. The highest level was a discarded soldier at Level 12. He was missing an arm and a leg.

Gilbert took longer to regrow those parts. Other than that, everyone else was below Level 10.

Gilbert healed away their sicknesses, their aches, their pains, their disfigurements. He replenished their vitality as much as their weaker bodies could take.

He couldn’t take away their age. That had more to do with their limited life energy. But he invigorated them and buffed the health protection that vitality provided, even if their low levels handled a small amount.

Zarian couldn’t see it. But he could tell based on how energetic the beggars looked after Gilbert finished his healing work.

It was frankly astonishing.

It’s so easy to take these powers for granted. How many people from the old world would beg for a healing power like Gilbert’s? How many lives could be saved? Gilbert’s literally a walking superhero even if his class was a healer of war.

Granted, having a war healer like Gilbert on your side was nearly as big as a divine boon. Zarian imagined any military unit would’ve desperately held onto him to the point of keeping him locked up.

Before the beggars acted out too abruptly, Zarian used a pulse of his evil alignment to scare them and keep back. They fell silent and cowered. Once they calmed down, Zarian pulled back his alignment and sighed aloud.

As precious as this moment was, Zarian had to be the bad guy a little.

He started off by saying, “You shouldn’t have.”

“Chief, come on. I can’t just look away.”

“I know. I’m glad you didn’t.”

Zarian used his Spectral Spider Network to plot a route that had the least amount of beggars. He didn’t pick routes that had no beggars, because he didn’t want to take away Gilbert’s right to help. Not completely.

Zarian just wanted to mitigate any chances of their enemies using the beggars against them. The evil alignment gave him tips on how to do evil and how to defend against the cunning actions of others as well.

It was like playing a long and nefarious game of chess. He didn’t know who his major opponents were most of the time, but Zarian was playing the game for sure.

They continued by foot. Gilbert healed people on the go. Zarian monitored the healer’s aura and figured Gilbert would have enough to contribute to the operation. The Recharge enchantment Hannah had packed into their gear was paying off considerably.

“I used to be like them,” Zarian said as they drew closer to their destination.

They entered a new district that was worse off than the last. There were fewer beggars and more seedy types.

Gilbert hardened up like a cop would, his grip tensing around his war club.

“So I’m glad you helped even if it wasn’t the right time to do so,” Zarian said. “It was also good to see how powerful your skill is for those weaker than us.”

“If I’m in the Level 100s, you think I can just wave my hand and heal a thousand people like that?” Gilbert asked.

Zarian smirked under the darkness of his hood. “You’ll have to get to the Level 100s first. But once you do, maybe you’ll be strong enough to heal an entire city of people in one go. You can do a lot of honest good once you have the power to back it.”

Just like that, something inside of Gilbert lit up.

It wasn’t anything magical. Zarian noticed the change by the way the big man straightened. His blue eyes looked forward with a steely gaze.

Gilbert looked like a man on a mission.

Like any person, Gilbert needed a reason to move mountains and build bastions. The reason didn’t need to be complex.

Zarian recognized Gilbert wanted to help people. Despite what happened at the mall and the inter-party conflict under Castle Grimrock, Gilbert had become a cop to protect and serve.

Fighting and killing and growing didn’t move him as much as being able to do good by people who were in need.

Seeing the change in Gilbert’s attitude excited Zarian. Even if it meant they would become a charity here and there, doling out free healings, what mattered more was igniting some genuine passion in a pivotal member of the party.

Some people might not care for charities. Those were people who were short-sighted and didn’t realize how much favor and influence a helping hand could receive as they provided.

Especially when passionate people were involved.

Zarian and Gilbert reached their destination.

“I thought this place was supposed to be good,” Gilbert said.

“Most people are neutral,” Zarian said. “Calling the kingdom good is old fashion marketing.”

“Sounds like propaganda to me,” Gilbert muttered, gritting his teeth.

Because of the Lovewar Acolyte’s extensive research and information recording, Zarian not only knew where to find the three skills he wanted, he could also cross off an objective. It was even better when the System recognized what was about to happen.