Chapter 42: Turning of Fates

Axel limped over to the side, cradling a broken arm as he summoned a health potion and drank it. His arm snapped back into place as it rapidly healed, and the wounds surrounding his body were sealed.

Lune walked over, her eyes relieved. She bowed towards the Giant. “Great Ymir, thank you.”

“There is nothing for you to thank me for,” the General grunted. “The decision to spare him was my own. Make no mistake, had he not come to the realisation of his inner self, I would have killed him, regardless of his potential.”

“You have seen what I've seen, then,” Lune breathed, her excitement shining in purple eyes. “He—”

“Do not seek to wield him as a weapon,” the Giant warned. “I understand your rationalisation, and while it is not without reason, it is not the right Path. Do not allow the practical to wholly cloud your morals. Such methods doom all parties.”

The light in Lune’s eyes dimmed, darkened by shame. She turned away.

“Nice of you two to talk like I’m not here,” Axel interrupted. “But I would like to know what our next step is.”

“‘Our’?” Ymir raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, ‘Our’. Unless you want me to take a hike after… all this,” Axel said hesitantly. “What are we now? Allies? Neutral parties with common goals?”

“It is perhaps too early to call us allies,” Ymir snorted. “Parties with common goals suit me fine, though whatever goals we might have at the moment are a mystery to me as well.”

“Wait, I thought you wanted to kill the Fae Tyrant?” Axel asked, surprised.

“I still do. However, the situation has changed,” the Giant huffed, glaring lightly at Axel. “The battle with you has forced me to expend my strongest spells and active abilities. In this state, without equipment or means to refresh my powers adequately, rationality dictates retreat to the Hub, such that I might recover my strength.

“The Fae Tyrant lives another day. But make no mistake, I will hunt that monster down and kill him for his sins, even if it would take me decades to track him down.”

“I can respect that,” Axel chuckled. “Bet you are regretting not just killing me when you have the chance now, aren’t you? That was a hefty bribe from the System you gave up.”

“That remains to be seen,” Ymir replied evenly. “For the moment, I believe I did not err in my choice. The loss of the rewards is of little consequence, for the sanctity of my free will and judgement remains unsullied by the meddling of others.”

Axel shook his head, half in amusement and half in awe.

Would he have given up such rewards simply to afford a rabid monster another chance for morality? Axel did not believe he had the selflessness in him to do so. He could hardly think of anyone he knew who might have made such a choice.

“What about your goals, Axel?” Lune asked curiously. “Has the System given you any instructions?” 

“It’s still calculating my Zone reward,” Axel hummed. “Is it supposed to do something else?”

“Usually, after a Zone is complete, the top Participants would be given a congratulatory notification before being teleported to the Hub for the first time,” Ymir explained. “Your exemplary performance has likely delayed that, but your entry to the Hub is inevitable. I would offer my congratulations, but it is likely moot in the face of your circumstances.”

The Giant tiredly sat down on a large rock. The wind armour around his enormous frame was disappearing, as was the unnatural pressure he exuded. It appeared his buffs have a set time limit, lasting only a few minutes.

A few minutes would have been more than enough to kill him. Axel was once again reminded that if the Giant had truly wanted him dead, he would have been reduced to a pasty pulp within the first second of the duel.

What terrifying power… Were there many other alien Participants awaiting beyond in the Great Game boasting such terrible strength? 

Would any human ever attain such heights of Divine brawn? Axel was perhaps halfway there, but in all honesty, he foresaw himself dead before he would reach the same level of power Ymir currently wielded. 

He decided to shift his focus elsewhere. “Only the top Participants get to go to the Hub? What happens to the rest?”

“They get sent to another Zone with their title of ‘Participants’ stripped,” Lune darkly said as she sat near the Giant. Axel did the same. “After that, their role is degraded to that of ‘Entity’ — Fodder for the Great Game, essentially. Their only hope then is to excel in their future performance to regain the ‘Participant’ designation, though such cases are rare. Most will die worthless deaths to fuel the growth of others.”

Axel thought back to the countless goblins, bugbears, and trolls he had killed.

Only the Bosses and Leaders were considered Participants. They alone could enter and exit the Zones as they pleased, as Ymir and Lune had implied earlier. The rest were trapped in their Zones and used as lesser troops with no will or choice in their deployment or against whom they fought.

Slave soldiers. Or perhaps not even that — for at least slaves could rebel against their masters, and the System would not even afford them that. Their fate sounded especially bleak. The only way to break free would be if one of them got a lucky kill on a vastly stronger Participant or performed some amazing feat that caught the System’s attention.

It made more sense why the lesser troops had been committed to killing Axel despite the risks. They had no other choice — he was their only ticket to a better life.

“So, on average, how much of my species should I expect to survive?” Axel casually asked.

Lune looked uneasy. Ymir shrugged. 

“It varies. Some species are stronger than others, even at baseline without the System’s aid,” Ymir said. “You are an exception among your race, are you not? While the trials they suffer would not be as heinous as yours — given your entry into a Dead Zone — they nonetheless are unlikely to persist in significant numbers.”

“You can tell it to me straight,” Axel sighed. “Like I already said, I don’t hold much attachment to my race. Or the living, for that matter. Given the situation is far beyond my means to affect, I would at least like to be informed.”

Lune coughed. “For the first Tutorial Zones… A Participant Endurance Rate of half is often considered a miracle. A quarter is the usual percentage of survivors. Decimations and even complete annihilation occur now and then for those of ill luck and fate. Overall, you should not expect more than a third of your species to survive their first Trial of the Great Game.”

Only a third… And that was simply a guess. The first day was reaching its end, and Axel doubted there were many Zones out there which have already completed the slaying of their Four Bosses. No doubt, there was much confusion and slaughter ongoing even as he sat there.

“Is there any way to help them?” Axel hesitantly asked. “Can I… enter their Zones? Assist in their killings?”

“No. Such things are barred by the System,” Ymir answered, his blue eyes darkening. “The purpose of the First Zone is to cull the weak and the unentertaining. The System would not appreciate interference, even by those who performed well enough to exit the Zones ahead of the rest of their species.”

Lune fidgeted. It looked as if she had something to say, but she stopped herself at the last moment.

“You were about to tell me something,” Axel noted, uncaring of her hesitation. “If you know of a solution, I would like to hear it.”

The Eldarin flinched. Ymir huffed. 

“It is not something that can be done. Rather than to speak and give you false hope, it’s better to forget it altogether,” the Giant advised.

“Well, now you have me all curious,” Axel clicked his teeth. “Admit it, the solution is supposedly an impossible feat, and the two of you are just worried I would do something stupid upon hearing it, right?”

Neither of them said anything.

Well, if you don’t want to tell me… There are other avenues I can try.

So, anything to add, my dear Handler?

Within his head, Axel heard the light chuckles of his Reaper.

[They are not wrong in saying that it would give you false hope. The solution is an outlandish one, and would require the performance of not one, but several impossible feats.]

But you are going to tell me anyway, because how else would you be entertained?

[An attempt would see you killed and returned to my embrace. Success… would hold graver and more exciting consequences beyond mere Death. Either way, I suppose I would benefit.]

Axel smiled. Right. So what is it?

[The Tyrant’s Crown]

He cocked his head. “The Tyrant’s Crown?”

He spoke aloud on purpose, such that he might gauge the other two’s reaction. 

Lune looked to him, eyes wide. The Giant gave a half-chuckle.

“I would advise you to abandon any further inquiries into the matter,” Ymir warned. “Your Admin is leading you down the path of suicide.”

“So, nothing different from what I’ve been doing so far,” Axel mildly replied, rolling his eyes. “Look, don’t misunderstand. The entire philosophical revelation you beat into my skull is not going to waste. I’m not going to blindly charge into my death, but if there’s a chance I could save a few lives, well… I would at least like to hear it.”

“I thought you cared nothing for your species,” Lune murmured.

“I don’t. Not really,” Axel admitted. “This is less of a moral obligation and more of a… I suppose calling it a matter of nascent responsibility is the closest I have. I’ve killed thousands. If I could save thousands as well, maybe that makes up for it a little.”

“It does not work that way,” Ymir growled. 

Axel shrugged. “It’s a start.”

Ymir sighed, looking away. Lune, seeing the Giant gave his tacit approval, began explaining.

“The Tyrant’s Crown is a special designation given by the System,” Lune said. “It is not a ‘Title’, per se. Rather, it changes your UI status, such as that of an ‘Entity’ or a ‘Participant’. Only one is given to each species.”

Axel frowned. “This would be a leader position of sorts, then?”

“It’s not just a leadership position,” Lune carefully explained. “You would essentially be given ownership of every sapient species of your original planet.”

Axel blinked. 

“You mean… responsibility, right?” he asked uncomfortably. “Like a stewardship role overseeing your species, or—”

“No, I mean ownership,” Lune corrected him. “You would have complete control over your followers. No one can physically disobey your direct order while in the Hub. You can use or sell your people within the Hub's unique ecosphere as you please, and they cannot protest or go against your decision. The System will not allow them.”

“Ah. So it’s a return to slavery, then,” Axel grimaced. “That would be unpleasant… How does this let me save people again?”

“Holding the designation of your species’s Tyrant goes beyond mere enslavement,” Ymir added. “The System affords you extra permission that a mere Participant or Candidate would not have. The ability to establish Guilds, to hold territory within Zones or the Hub, and most pertinent of all… To recall every single surviving member of your species to their new Jurisdiction Zone — a vast personal Domain granted to you by the System upon your complete ascension to Tyranny.”

Axel’s heart began to speed up. “A Jurisdiction Zone?”

“It is essentially a continent-sized safe haven for your people; their new home in the Hub,” Lune elaborated. “You can always take and hold other lesser Zones and expand your territory, but that Jurisdiction Zone is the equivalent of your species’s capital.”

“When a Tyrant is finally determined among a new assimilated planet by the System, the Tyrant can choose to summon their subjects to their Jurisdiction,” Ymir explained. “Every one of them… Even if they are somehow still in the Tutorial Zone.”

Wait, that means…

If I became the System-chosen Tyrant of my species now, I could ensure a larger chunk of the human race survives the Great Game before the death toll of the Zones kicks in. That could save millions…

No. Billions.

Deep within his head, Axel heard a chilling chuckle.

[And so comes the turning of fates…]