The worst had been an elderly woman who had tried to explain it using avians and insects, but I just handed her one of the books off Danielle’s shelf and walked out. There was a high pitched scream from the room as I went to go find dinner. Which one did I give her? I hope it wasn’t the werewolf one. That one got weird…
I still hadn’t read most of the books on that shelf, but I had gathered they were all of a similar genre. I still planned to move through them but it was low on my priority list. Not like I expected much.
I found myself in the lounge from earlier with the flower lights. It felt comfortable, and I had enough privacy to look through things.
Things like the trait I hadn’t touched, or my notifications. Like the moderator menus and the quest log. It was all just a little overwhelming.
It’s just been one thing after another. I can’t stop, though. Not until I can take care of myself. I let out a deep sigh and flopped backwards into one of the couches. Slowly, I felt myself just slump to the side as I rolled over to stare at the ceiling.
Without anything else, I opened the moderator menu:
[Moderator 3312883-E6 Control Panel]
[Name: Alexei Drowlek [!Error!]]
[Role: Moderator Class NM-03]
[Processing Access: Green]
[Combat Rating: Low]
[Judgements in Good Standing: 1]
[Complaints: 0]
[Salary: 100,000 PEC per Year]
[Active Exemptions: EXP Taxation, Simplified System Interface]
[Inactive Exemptions: Stats Limitations, Spell Target Locks]
[Active Abilities: Moderator’s Veil]
[Inactive Abilities: Trajectory Vision, Spectator View]
I focused on the error message.
[!Error!]
[Username System Conflict]
[USER ID Not Matched]
[Please Enter New Name]
A box appeared with a blinking vertical line. Is it asking for me to decide what name I want? Or is it asking me for a codename? I tried to will it away, and it disappeared, but a notification with an [!] appeared next to the normal one.
[Alert!]
[Moderation tools will be restricted until the error is corrected]
It minimized easy enough, and I just sighed. It’d be another thing to worry about, and I didn’t need more. Instead, I checked out my notifications.
Tonfas Tier 0, Rank 3 to Tier 0, Rank 5
Cheap Shot Tier 0, Rank 3 to Tier 1, Rank 0
Throwing Tier 0, Rank 1 to Tier 0, Rank 4
Assessment Tier 1, Rank 7 to Tier 1, Rank 8
Skill: Swords gained.
Swords Tier 0, Rank 1
Cheap Shot has gone up to Tier 1
Cheap Shot
You want to get the first, and preferably last, blow in a fight. You will use every dirty trick you can to make sure you win, and that’s a good thing. The one who wins, is the one who lives.
Tier 0: You got lucky.
Tier 1: Okay, not lucky. Moments for an appropriately devastating blow will begin to glow when this skill is being actively used at the start of a fight. Insight and Perception will increase the accuracy of this information. Glow is only visible to the user.
+1 to Insight
+1 to Perception
My head felt weird, but otherwise nothing else changed. The tingles from the stats gains disappeared fast enough. I also noticed I had more than enough to level up, despite the loss of the quest completion reward. Though the bonus from that was probably worth more than the 10k I was meant to get.
So, I leveled Noble, and let the changes pass through me. The bonuses didn’t really make me feel all that different. Which, was probably the issue with Mental stats in general. Maybe magic users needed a bunch of them, but was that the path I was going to go down?
“Bleh, I’m just thinking in circles.” I huffed out into the empty room. Just in case, I turned to the door to check no one had come in while I was distracted.
I was alone.
That thought hurt more than I was comfortable admitting to myself.
Instead, I brought up one of my Moderator Abilities. One that had been on my sheet since the start.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Moderator’s Veil
[To do your job effectively, you will need to hide yourself among the masses. They cannot know who you are, or your job becomes harder. Beyond the typical Pseudonym most Moderator’s use, this is your most powerful tool in anonymity.]
[Modify display information to those using abilities to read your Character Sheet. Numbers must be lower than your total, and cannot go higher than your limit.]
[Optional: Lower capabilities to the represented stats.]
[Note: Lowered statistics will feel unpleasant for large changes.]
That… would have been useful when I met Grandpa Toren. The optional bit also made me curious. I looked over my stats and the point of Endurance I’d gained not too long ago.
No… they wouldn’t let you… I activated Moderator’s Veil and used the optional ability. There wasn’t anything I wanted to hide, but one point of Endurance didn’t really do much, right?
There was a confirmation screen and I hesitated. Is this really a good idea? I mean, I can disable it later, right?
I confirmed my choice.
I suddenly felt like I’d had the wind knocked out of me. I actually had to sit up and take several breaths, as if I’d run several laps around the manor. “That… was worse than I thought…”
I checked my sheet, though.
Name: Danielle Rosecrest
Age: 17
Race: Human
Class: Noble 5
Class EXP: 34/1600
Experience Bank: 0/2000
Unspent Attribute Points: 3
Statistics
Physical
Strength: 10
Dexterity: 13
Agility: 13
Endurance: 11 (Modified 10)
Constitution: 10
Mental
Intelligence: 21
Insight: 14
Charisma: 14
Perception: 13
Magic
Mana: 4
Mana Control: 2
Mana Power: 3
Skills
Assessment: Tier 1, Rank 8
Unarmed Combat Tier 1, Rank 6
Cheap Shot Tier 1, Rank 0
Mana Sense: Tier 0, Rank 1
Speed Reading: Tier 1, Rank
Deception: Tier 0, Rank 1
Staff Combat: Tier 0, Rank 3
Mathematics: Tier 2, Rank 13
Throwing: Tier 0, Rank 4
Tonfas: Tier 0, Rank 5
Two-Weapon Fighting: Tier 0, Rank 1
Swords: Tier 0, Rank 1
Traits
Noble Birth
Experience Conversion
Experience Absorption
Moderator’s Veil
Second Chance
Spatial Closet (Tier 1)
Spells
Healing: Tier 0 Rank 4
Scan: Tier 0 Rank 2
There it was. An addendum on my Endurance. If someone scanned me…
I considered it. I guess they wouldn’t see Endurance. What would it be, minus one to physical? 56 instead of 57?
Either way, it was done. It was late, and I was tired. As I got up to leave the lounge, I stumbled against the table and swore as I bumped my shin. I steadied myself against the arm of the couch as I rubbed at it. I cast a quick Heal spell and the damage, if it could be called that, was gone.
I need to use you more often, Heal. Though realistically, it was probably good the spell was low. It meant I hadn’t needed to use it much. I considered ways to level it as I headed back to my room, determined to try and sleep while I was feeling the effects of lowered Endurance.
One of these mornings, I’d like to wake up normally. I thought as I lay on the bed, groaning in pain. My arms were around my stomach and I blamed Porter for bringing up.
The cramps were better after drinking a tea a maid brought me. It eased my abdominal muscles, but also made me kind of gross, for lack of a better term. That could have just been everything else, though.
Grimoire was absent so I continued training by myself. Mostly throwing knives and movements with the tonfas. I tried using the sword as well, but it mostly became me chopping at invisible attackers and I grew tired of playing pretend after a while with it.
And the rest of the day was pretty boring. Calmar was out on meetings, with Porter. Grimoire was busy with whatever took him from the manor. The staff were either fawning over me or trying to steer clear.
So I read more, going through more of the libraries in the manor. I only got through one before night fell, but it was an adventure novel. Part of a set and I’d noticed one of the books dealth with the Flame Flower Fields. It was probably not the only information on the dungeon in the house, and I could likely find more just by asking.
I didn’t want to ask Calmar, though. He already suspected I was going to go in, outright told me as much. But that didn’t mean I had to remind him.
From the book, I’d learned a few things. One: The author liked flowery language and took ten words when two would do. It was probably why there were seven other books on the shelf that were as thick as my head. Two: It was likely not very accurate.
I wasn’t sure what I thought it’d be when I heard Flame Flower Fields, but an underground cavern with blooming crystals flowing with magma sounded a little outside of reality.
Or did it…
I considered that I didn’t actually know the kinds of things that were possible, maybe that wasn’t even the strangest thing. The imagery was nice to imagine, though.
Maybe that was the reason it was included.
Of the challenges, it did go into details. Foxes that created walls of fire. Birds that shot quills that exploded on impact into a conflagration. Even giant bees whose nectar was empowered by the flowers the dungeon was named after, with a queen that burned with anger when it’s children were killed. Literally.
As I’d read the stories, I considered what I’d need to do to train for those kinds of challenges. A ranged weapon would absolutely be vital. Some kind of fire protection was a no brainer too. Some of the creatures on the early floors didn’t even sound that hostile, so maybe they could be dispatched one at a time.
Didn’t Samuel say that most of the good stuff was hidden behind fire traps and stuff? I hadn’t read anything about that in the novel, so maybe he learned it from someone else.
I went to bed with the help of a tea a maid brewed for me, and tried to relax. There wasn’t anything else I could do but keep working on what I was doing.
The pig didn’t even have the decency to greet the esteemed leader of the Collectors. The Gilded had sent him to discuss a few things, and now he’d found a house in turmoil and only a slave to escort him back to his master. Not even a well programmed one, not that Collector expected anything more from Chatterdeem.
“You’re dismissed.” He said, mouth hidden behind the golden mask he wore to hide his features. Not a hair, not a bit of skin showed through the man’s robes and clothing. Even his skins were covered in golden colored gloves, embedded with several shards of crystal, sacrificing their value for aesthetics.
Just as the Gilded liked it.
He went through the door, watching the disheveled mess of lard that had once called himself a man. The Collector could smell the liquor from the door, and bodies lay scattered about the nearby bed and floor. Some not moving. Some not even breathing.
“Such expensive vices, Lord Chatterdeem. No wonder your house is in decline.” The man said, a hollow echo from behind the mask.
The former lord turned his head slowly, eyes devoid of life. “Who…” He started to ask.
The Collector pointed something at the fool and a crack of sound echoed throughout the building, audible even blocks away from the isolated mansion.
The man looked down, a hole through his chest and several of the forgotten and broken toys behind him. Even the outside was visible through the hole.
The Collector put his weapon away and looked around the room. “Such a disgusting waste of wealth.” A hand went into his robe and held up a large crystal. It wasn’t one of the ones used for currency, instead holding a spell inside.
He set it on the lap of Lord Chatterdeem and left the way he’d come, the few guards and servants fleeing before him.
Soon after, the manor erupted into all consuming golden flames.
The man stood and watched the pyre as member of the Gilded approached from behind. “Sir… is it done?”
The masked man shook his head, “Unfortunately, not. Read.”
A flick of the man’s wrist and a screen appeared before the Gilded:
JUDGEMENT PASSED
User 53FG221eT will be under a 100% EXP Penalty until 504,103,312 Experience has been paid out to victims.
“Is this…” The man gasped in shock.
“The gods have sent an envoy.” The man sounded… eager. “It’s been a while since we’ve killed the last one.”