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With his face hidden from all observers, he let himself grin as he examined the levels of his party.

Bianca was at the lowest end, Level 23. Hannah was Level 24.

Gilbert was Level 25, which must’ve come from killing gnolls and completing his own side quest. He was busy playing field medic now, healing as many people as possible.

Oh, look, he went up to Level 26. Apparently, saving lives gave experience, too. Maybe not as much as taking lives, but there were a lot of grievously injured soldiers laying about.

Naomi was Level 27, two levels away from Zarian. She stood on the corpse of the last defeated gnoll, the strongest berserker the enemy had. Blood and brain chunks oozed from the openings in the gnolls’ head.

She looked mighty and victorious despite the scrapes and bruises she’d suffered. She stood proudly on her conquest while looking down at the only officer alive, Roland, the one who’d greeted them first.

Roland seemed to have moved past the issue with her ‘evil skin’ and saw Naomi for what she was: a savage and heroic killer, one of ‘four’ saviors his soldiers could look up to.

This is perfect. If we leverage this moment with Roland, he could help us out in town. That’ll get us past some of the awkwardness of being foreigners. It was unfortunate that young men had died from this incident, but Zarian was more focused on the positives.

He wanted to join them and watch how everything proceeded from the back. But when a spectral spider scampered in front of him, making erratic gestures of warning, he knew he was needed elsewhere.

The spectral spider was one of a selective group he’d sent out far to scout forward, watch their rear, and stay observant of their flanks during the attack. Now that he knew Officer Roland and his soldiers were incompetent youths lacking proper training, he wanted to do more in the background to save them from another ambush.

The spectral spider’s informative dance sent chills down Zarian’s spine. There was one remaining gnoll enemy, and it felt ferociously strong to the spectral spider, far stronger than the strongest berserker.

Zarian summoned a new spectral spider and told it to give a webbed message to Naomi: ‘I’ll be back.’

He turned away and became one with the night, his Darkness Affinity maximized. Everybody lost track of him, which wasn’t hard since they weren’t focused on him.

He walked off the path and headed in the direction the scouting spectral spider pointed out to him

Leaving behind the others left Zarian with an odd feeling of regret, like he was breaking away from his usual routine. It wouldn’t be the first time, nor the last. He’d gone on a solo adventure in the White Spider Dungeon, although that came about because of trap walls separating them.

This was the first time he voluntarily stepped away.

Would that bother them? It was bothering him, but Zarian figured moments like these were necessary. There would come times when he had to go solo for a little while.

The others are strong enough now. They can handle enemies above their level. At least most of them can. I might have to work on Bianca a little more, but other than that they can lean on each other if I’m not with them. It wouldn’t be good if I’m always being a helicopter all the time.

It wouldn’t be good if he became too relaxed about his own development, too. He could’ve finished studying the special fire spell by now. But the urgency wasn’t quite there.

He had felt little urgency except for when he first arrived in the Infinita Star System. He was so powerful that he’d handicapped his own brain and used the opposite of a wizard’s style just to make a boss fight with Reiki more interesting.

Being powerful is wonderful, Zarian thought. I can face down foes who would’ve normally squashed adventurers at my level. I can demand respect when I’ve never demanded respect before. I can even play pretend and hide my true strength just because I can.

These were all wonderful benefits of being overpowered at his level. However, Zarian also knew there were forces many times stronger than him. There had to be.

Or he wouldn’t feel so thrilled by the prospect of saving Foodie and making her a part of his party once the Grimrock Warlock was defeated. He wouldn’t be thrilled to reach the first class advancement, grind up some levels, hit up the Forgotten Kingdom Dungeon, and then pay that tailor a visit in Carrowmore.

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He did feel mild about learning the power politics involved in the Eternal Garden Kingdom and understood why they send out young men to die. Maybe he would have to dethrone the king or pull off some other exceptional feat, which he wouldn’t mind doing if it wasn’t too much of a hassle that was out of his way.

Doing that among all the other things on his list would mean he’d face bigger and greater challenges. He would face creatures that would truly test his mettle.

I will have my cake and eat it, too.

He would see his party become stronger and stronger. He would still push himself to be the strongest of all.

I know you’re sprinting to catch me, Naomi. And to be honest with you, I’m glad you are. But I’ve got an ego, too. I won’t let you catch me easily. That’ll be embarrassing with the head start I have on you.

Zarian stepped out from the tree line surrounding a field of tall wild flowers, piles of stone blocks, and small hills of smashed forts. The moons were out now, shining white, orange, and blue in the dark expanse of twinkling stars and half-lit planets.

With a long and calming breath, Zarian let his abilities unwound and stretch out.

The Grimoire of Black Magic 102 phased out of his body, spectral chains rattling, as the covers spread open and the pages flipped on their own. The Parasite Cloak stretched out for nearly three dozen feet behind him and to the sides. The cloak flapped against the wind, looking like a tattered flag of flesh with gruesome gaps, strings of leather, and lines of ivory bone appearing across Para’s form.

The darkest shades around Zarian became darker and denser. All traces of the night’s light were consumed in those heavy dark spots, as if he alone was a singularity that would feast on all of reality.

The aura cuffs remained on his arms.

His Straight Darkness +1 remained in the beta skill section.

With this, Zarian figured he could push himself. Either he would find victory. Or he would face defeat and death.

A gnoll wearing torn-up monk clothing sat on the biggest hill of broken forts in the middle of the field, with a river-moat circling around his seat. The gnoll looked with wide-open and frenzied eyes at Zarian’s striding form.

This gnoll was bigger than the archers, but smaller than the berserkers. It was also better groomed while wearing jewelry made of leather strings with no other additions. Its – or his – other item of note was a gourd he lifted to his fanged mouth, pouring its liquid contents down his gullet messily.

Once the gnoll finished drinking, he lowered his drink and let out a satisfied sigh. Then, with a booming voice, he yelled, “You’ve killed my promising little brothers! They’ve killed thousands of their own brothers and sisters so they could have this hunt!”

The gnoll shook his head, emotions running high as he snarled. “We’ve spared your villages and farms. We’ve played by human rules and sent you a written paper with our intentions. Why did you stop the hunt? Does the Eternal Garden Kingdom want to war with the Blood Prairie Savages instead of letting us hunt?”

Zarian took his time to sort his thoughts based on the new info he received. As much as he liked to play things with a humorous bent, this sounded pretty serious.

At the very least, the gnoll sitting on the hill of broken forts didn’t rush him. The gnoll seemed to expect a wise answer or apology.

Eventually, Zarian had the perfect response:

“Because I do what I want.”

Not bothering to hear the gnoll’s reply, he formed a ten-foot javelin of dense darkness. He shot it straight at the gnoll and watched the javelin pierce the distance in a blink without making much of a sound.

The creature expediently tied his gourd to his waist while swinging his free fist. He deflected the dark javelin with a blasting force that sounded like someone striking a gong. The gnoll stood to his full height at seven feet, and Zarian tried to use his Identify trait on him.

“I felt what you did, so I will tell you this before you die,” growled the gnoll. “I’m Level 41. My advanced class is rare! I’m a Force Monk, and I will kill you!”

By the time the Force Monk finished his declaration, Zarian formed a dozen long javelins that were denser than the first. He sent them flying in an adjustable salvo, one after another, tracking how the Level 41 moved and defended himself.

The Force Monk solved all his problems by punching the javelins head on. He deflected each javelin with greater blasts of explosive punches. He even threw kicks with his punches, sometimes in unison, when Zarian threw two javelins at the same time.

The Force Monk launched from the top of his hill of rubble like a missile. He kicked across the distance in the blink of an eye. If Zarian hadn’t been ready, the monk would’ve caught him.

Instead, the wizard fled away, using the Parasite Cloak to swing him to safety while she latched onto a large pillar of stone blocks. Zarian sent smaller, quicker projectiles in scattered shots at the monk as he struck like a bomb where Zarian had once stood. The nearest stone-bark trees swayed and groaned, the earth shaking from the impact.

“Do not run! Face your death!” The monk sprinted out of the crater and from under the volleys of dark projectiles with impressive speed.

He cocked back his palm, then thrust it forward, releasing a torrent of pure force.

With the help of his Parasite Cloak, Zarian zipped out of the way of the force torrent. He avoided the second force torrent by half a foot.

He felt the threads from the Parasite Cloak tear asunder when the monk targeted Para this time around.

Disconnected from their last tether, Zarian flipped freely through the air, making him an easier target. The Force Monk howled like a frenzied beast and launched upward with another flying mega kick.

It might’ve looked like an easy shot at first until Zarian launched a powerful dark beam torrent of his own – dense, oppressive, and black like the depths of the abyss.

The monk’s flying kick and Zarian’s dark beam collided.

The monk sliced upward through the beam regardless of its power. The kick landed, breaking the Parasite Cloak’s meaty defense, and hitting with such force Zarian’s ribs broke and put him in a world of hurt he hadn’t felt in a while.

Zarian even vomited, sending chunks of his last meal into the monk’s face.

But that was it.

The kick wasn’t a kill shot.

Too much of Zarian’s dark beam had softened the blow.

Now Zarian had the monk where he wanted him. The wizard struck with a second powerful dark beam he’d charged up already.