Evil Compensated by Good

I awoke in terrible pain, seated at a dining table in mid-morning. Unlike the rest of the castle, hardened for practical matters of defense, this dining hall was compromised for comfort and style. There were high stained glass windows that drenched everything in beautiful, scintillating colors, while the walls were adorned with beautiful artwork that I presumed depicted religious imagery. A great hearth sat at one end, opposite of the doorway, and although it was not lit, somehow the room was warmer than what the pale sunlight should grant. The comfortable warmth we enjoyed was emitted by a trio of small statues sitting on the table, each one radiating a constant stream of hot air. Two of the marble statues were carved into the shape of heroic busts rendered in a stately Greco-Roman style, while the last portrayed a mythical creature best described as a griffin. Each had a magic stone prominently mounted, which I presumed to be the source of their power. My first time seeing a magic tool, and I wish it had been in better circumstances.

The table was far too large for the number of people present: myself, Missol, Javier and Aldebardo. As the bishop, Aldebardo sat at the table’s head, with Missol to his right, Javier to his left, and I next to Missol. By the appearance of their dress, mannerisms and relative youth, a quartet of novitiate nuns and monks stood by the walls, ready to attend to our needs. The food served before us was simple, high-quality fare. A steak, a salad, a soup, a loaf of bread. I would’ve been hungry, had I not been in such pain.

One side of my face felt tender, swollen and bruised, while my abdomen ached terribly with every breath. My status screen indicated that I was at 2107/6000 HP, which meant that last night, Missol had, with three hits, knocked off 2/3rds of my hp. Getting nearly killed by the Wheezing Dragon hadn’t nearly hurt as bad, but that was probably because I wasn’t juiced with pints of adrenaline. As I struggled to adjust to the pain, Javier’s eyes caught mine, and his eyes flickered to Aldebardo, who then noticed that I was awake.

"Good morning," Greeted Aldebardo as he bit into a small red fruit which resembled a cherry tomato. "I am sorry, Loiel, but we have decided not to heal you. It is a punishment for your transgressions last night. I had faith that you would not be so mischievous, but it appears that the vision Javier had was correct."

"I can change the future, Loiel." Javier said, "I had a vision and I changed it. We are not slaves to fate or the Deceiver."

I was half-paying attention to their pedantic lecture. I wondered how I would activate -Pain is Meaningless To Me. Would I need -Fury to be active? Responding to my intention, a semi-translucent window appeared in the upper corner of my vision with the words ‘-Pain is Meaningless To Me. Active’. That was new; the other times when I “activated” a skill, nothing appeared, I could only recognize that something was happening by changes in how I felt and moved. Level 20 was a big milestone in Otherworld Online, maybe it came with its own perks here as well.

Regardless, I did not stop feeling pain, as I’d hoped. Rather, I just stopped caring about it. I still felt pain, it still registered, but it did not hurt. It did not negatively impact me, or my ability to function or cause involuntary flinches. I no longer winced or grimaced whenever I inhaled, because pain was literally meaningless to me. Pain was just another neutral sensation, like texture, scent or sight. It was just information. I was aware that it hurt, but my body did not override it to be the most pressing matter. It wasn’t like morphine or alcohol in that those dulled pain or eliminated it. I felt alienated from my body in a strange and novel way. Killing myself by accident through overexertion or self-inflicted injury took on a new and concerning dimension.

"Considering the topic of our conversations, any idiot could predict my next moves." I said, reasserting control and reassuming a neutral expression. "You didn't need to see the future."

"She is correct, young man. Maybe you really should rely less on the Deceiver, and more on your own head." Missol darkly chuckled.

Javier's face crumpled into a bitter frown. I could see the great struggle within to resist the urge to lash out. It actually made me curious.

"Missol, please keep such comments to yourself." Aldebardo said, his attention never flickering away from me, "Did you use an ability or class feature, Loiel?"

"I don't know." I said, starting on my own meal. I gave up on the possibility they might be drugging me with something that could render me compliant, and simply ate. Curiously, the ability even affected the pain of hunger.

"Your class remains a mystery, but we can at least be certain that you are no mere knight." Aldebardo said, continuing to eat.

"Free me." I said, finishing the salad and starting on the soup. "Then we can find out."

"There is nothing more I wish to do, but as Missol has explained, we cannot take that risk. Once we are certain that we can remove the mark safely, we will do so."

"What will that take? What will it look like?" I asked, finishing the soup and moving onto the meat.

"That is something we are researching. It will take time, and in that time, we can work on preparing you for the future."

"What if I could not feel pain?" I said, which made both Missol and Javier pause.

"Quite remarkable, but not true. I made you very compliant with pain last night." Missol said. "You’re very good at putting on a brave face."

"I said if." I replied. "Can I get more meat?"

"Supposing you did have a class feature or ability that allowed you to ignore pain, we would still need to run a number of tests. The slave mark is more than physical, it is a spiritual ailment. It's why it actually changes your class when it's applied." Aldebardo said as he motioned with a free hand, and one of the novitiates moved to fetch me more food.

"Before we get started, couldn't Javier just look into the future?" I asked, finishing my steak and bread, "If I kill everyone, we don't bother, if I don't, we go ahead. Simple."

"I am not perfectly accurate or certain. The future can be changed, and I can be wrong." Javier said, watching me eat with some horror on his face, "My premonitions and visions can be misled and misguided, as I've discovered."

Good to know.

"Then I remain a slave. Have me murder whoever you will." I said, finishing just in time for my second helping to arrive. In that moment, I also realized I could eat past the point of being uncomfortably full, and into the realm of self-destructive gluttony with this skill.

"Loiel, I want to show you that we are not bad people. The sad truth is that the world which the demiurge designed demands sacrifice. The strength to change the world and interfere with the plans of evil gods can only be wrought by drinking deep from the well of pain and loss."

Other people's pain and loss, I wanted to say. But I held my tongue, because pretending to cooperate seemed to be my only meaningful response in these circumstances. There was a woman who could kill me effortlessly and a boy who could see the future. My chances were, in fact, very poor.

"You've been doing a very poor job." I said, finishing my steak and drinking straight from a pitcher of water. "The teachers you've sent me so far were ill suited."

"My apologies, they were the clerics who volunteered. Once you've fully recovered and adjusted, you can go with Javier to attend the seminary classes, and Missol will continue to educate you."

"Continue?" I asked, which drove Aldebardo to finally shift his attention to someone else.

"Missol, please tell me that you haven't just been silently standing there. Please tell me that you've been properly educating your squire."

"I am her squire?" I spat out water, coughing

"Why would you be so surprised? Missol is one of the greatest warriors in all the realm, a knight with few peers." Aldebardo explained, confused in the opposite direction, "Similarly to you, we don't know what her class:Spartan means, beyond confirming that it is a Knight type of class. You're both so very similar."

Spartan. This woman was a Spartan. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. This world doesn't have an ancient Greece or linguistic concept of a Spartan, and yet God decided to give them such a class. Clearly, they are an earthling, and I hated the implication.

"I don't know what Spartan means, but I do know the skills it grants me. One of those is -The Weak Suffer What They Must. It grants me strength based on the cruelty of my behavior." Missol explained, "Be of good cheer, bear cub, we will grow stronger together."

Interesting. The class is taking into consideration the historical reality of the Spartans, in that they were all tremendous assholes who terrorized their slave population, the helots. They drew all their material wealth from exploiting people and enforcing their rule through cruelty. In essence, cruelty made them stronger. It made too much sense…

Krypteia! I realized why Amparo's class was so familiar! If I remember correctly, the Krypteia were the sort of secret police of Sparta, which focused on murdering helots and generally committing acts of terror to keep them in line. Did that mean that Amparo had a similar trait of drawing strength from cruelty, and that was why she was so reluctant to become a Chosen or anyone of renown based on her class skills? Because the class she received actively violated her morals?

Another possibility scratched at my brain. I never actually learned how to speak this language. I awoke already knowing it, and to me it was English. But what if it wasn't? What if there was some kind of spell or class feature or other bullshit RPG mechanic translating everything into the closest parallel idea? It could be that though I was hearing the words “Spartan” and “Krypteia” and “Legio Tyrannidis,” in reality they were saying completely alien words.

If that were the case, then there was an equally valid possibility that I was merely living through an ironic hell.

"Despite that, Missol is a very good person. She works to ensure that all her evil is compensated by good." Aldebardo added, sowing more doubt in fertile fields.

"There, you have my motivation for destroying the Deceiver." She shrugged, "What decent God would reward rampant evil?"

A good point and not my problem. If she hated the idea so much, she could simply not be cruel, and just be weak, as Amparo was. Then again, maybe Amparo would've lived and I would've died if she weren't so meek. Being an asshole but alive, versus kind and dead. A conundrum, to be sure. I allowed silence to be my answer.

"Once we are done here, I will show you around the demesne." Missol said, polishing off her soup. "Corlyne, could you get the bear cub another steak?"