Dawn broke upon Nova Lux, rays of resplendent gold cresting the mountains of the first ring and bringing life to the city. Up on one of the rooftops Azrael stretched, awaking from his rest. The roof was far from a comfy bed, but at least nobody would find him while he slept.

Below him the voices of people broke the silence of the night, like the breaking dawn. Though there were still plenty of players about during the night most of the NPCs adhered to the day/night cycle of the world, with only bars, restaurants and taverns still operating into the night. Now though, carts clattered, people milled, and voices shouted. As much as Azrael disliked such busy and crowded activity, he appreciated the novelty from his rooftop perch.

With the ever-brightening light of day Azrael got a glimpse of the largest player city in the game, a sight which had been hidden from him by the veil of night.

Houses, buildings and warehouses sprawled across the entire island, surrounded by tall impenetrable walls. Roads lined with stores spread out from some point at the center, like crooked spokes on a wheel. From these main roads countless smaller alleys split off in maze like branches, meandering amongst crammed buildings with no rhyme or reason.

In size Nova Lux easily matched any major medieval European city. And it had all been built in a little over half a year by millions of players. Magic, manpower and the dedication of gamers truly was a power to behold.

There were only a few points of discrepancy between a major medieval city and Nova Lux. The first of these was found amongst the sprawling buildings, where European stone brick architecture met eastern pavilions, African mudbrick and the occasional wattle and daub. Each player brought their own culture into the game, for the most part though magic raised stone walls were the dominant norm.

The second greatest difference was the large pure white marble cathedral dominating the southern part of the city. The cathedral complex itself claimed most of the southern quarter while the towering cathedral in the center and dominated the skyline. From where he stood its many gothic towers, bridges and gold tipped spires looked like the tines of a hegemonic crown. A hundred or more pennants of purest white fluttered in the slight early morning breeze. On them the symbol of a golden winged sword wearing a crown. It was symbol he was familiar with and one he’d once worn with a sense of pride. It was the symbol of the Holy Empire.

Azrael dropped down, into the streets, not even needing to cushion his drop with magic. Enhanced stats really were amazing. With little more than a rough sense of where the city center was Azrael headed in the direction.

He hoped to be out of the city by nightfall, but wanted to visit a certain historic site at least once before he did so. The center of the city was also the center of the island and as such the center of the rings and the game itself. It was the place where the first players entered the game, before anything else was discovered. It was the site of the first spawn and indeed still one of the most popular places to spawn in the game.

Letting his feet carry him Azrael tried to enjoy the stroll, focusing more of his attention on the many unique buildings around him than the people. Once or twice he took a detour through a side alley when a patrol of city guards approached.

To his surprise he noted that almost over half of the guards were actually NPCs rather than players. While players made up many of the higher ranking and higher levelled guards that he saw, NPCs fleshed out the majority of their force. And all of them were human.

Though there was a wide variety of humans, elves, beastkin and dwarves, as well as a few rare dragon kin, all the NPC guards were human. Hiring NPCs was a common tactic in large gaming guilds, so that low level work could be delegated, but while he’d been with Holy Empire employment had been mostly merit based, instead of race based, causing him to be surprised by the lack of other races in the force.

Still, it was only a minor thought and he didn’t spend much time on it before he entered onto one of the main roads that led to the city center. Here the crowds increased as players and NPCs alike moved to complete their tasks.

Merchants cried their wares from stores and stalls. Players headed for the gates in glistening armour, robes and leathers, equipped with swords, longswords, bows, axes, spears, staves, wands and every other conceivable weapon under the sun. Their faces were filled with excitement and their heads with dreams of exploring and conquering the world.

Meanwhile returning players arrived, their weapons chipped, their clothes ragged and their faces weary, but occasionally filled with pride. Those that returned with their head high often also carried hard won spoils hidden in sacks, bags and pouches.

Walking along the main street Azrael took the chance to gain a greater understanding of other players and player culture. Using [Lord’s Insight] Azrael inspected the people in the crowds, casually glancing through other people’s classes.

Simple classes like [Swordsman], [Warrior], [Archer], [Healer], [Rogue] and [Mage] variations were the most common. The classes amongst the merchant folk often included things like [Merchant], [Carpenter], [Smith] and [Tailor]. NPCs were more craft focused, while many players had both a production and a combat class.

Occasionally Azrael would find interesting classes like [Sword Dancer], [Combat Alchemist], [Rune Carver], [Illusionist] and [Blade Master], though he had no way of knowing what tier these classes might be. Most players were around levels 9-17, with only a few outliers. The [Illusionist] had been one such person with a frightening total of 19 class levels. They had also turned to look straight at him as he’d inspected them, causing him to quickly vanish into the crowd.

It was a wakeup call of sorts that even a powerful skill like [Lord’s Insight], which was born from luck and his own talent, wasn’t undetectable. Azrael assumed that the [Illusionist] probably had a mind type Skill that let him know if someone cast something on them.

Still, the walk was as enlightening as the thronging crowds were uncomfortable. Still, he pressed on, through the mass of bodies until they suddenly evaporated.

It wasn’t really that the people around him just vanished, but that the road spilled out into a round plaza so large that it made the mass of people seem almost non-existent. He’d arrived. Officially, this was the center of the known world, the halfway point of his journey.

At the very center of the plaza stood two ancient pillars of grey stone. They stood tall, as if framing an invisible door way. Both were cylindrical and a little taller than an average person, though one of them had been broken near the top, leaving only a weathered stump.

Behind them stood a large statue of a winged lady made out of pure white marble. In one hand she held a sword. In the other she held a scale. The towering statue, seemingly carved from a single twenty-meter-tall block of marble was a master piece and it looked so life like that he wouldn’t be surprised if it suddenly started walking around on its own. If that happened, then he would spare no effort to kill it, because the face of the statue belonged to none other than The Saintess, Melissa.

Something hard bumped into his shoulder from behind, almost sending him sprawling to the ground.

“Watch it beggar.” A male voice behind him said “you’ll dirty my gear.”

Azrael turned, massaging his shoulder, to find a large, armoured warrior behind him, with a lady wrapped in each arm. A quick check with [Soul sense] confirmed that both ladies were NPCs.

The man glared at Azrael as if he were something offensive, and wiped his armour with a handkerchief. He threw the seemingly ‘dirtied’ handkerchief at Azrael, before leaving with a huff. Azrael simply sidestepped, letting the piece of cloth weakly fall to the ground beside him. Still when the Lv. 11 [Warrior/Tank/Gigolo] left Azrael bent over an picked up the handkerchief. Free stuff was free stuff, and he had an idea. Two ideas in fact.

Ten minutes later Azrael was resting at the base of the large statue, his head half bowed and the handkerchief laid out on the ground in front of him. A few copper coins were already gathered on the pristine cloth.

Azrael smiled as another coin dropped onto his donations cloth. If people thought he was a beggar, then a beggar he would be. It was a good way to raise some new funds for the rest of his travels. It wasn’t, in fact, the main reason he was sitting at the base of Melissa’s statue. He could have easily chosen any other spot in the plaza, or simply wandered amongst the crowds to raise his funds.

The reason he was sitting here was for revenge, as petty as that may have been. The statue of Melissa, larger than life and portrayed as a saintess, had set a slumbering hatred ablaze again. Of everyone he’d ever met she was the furthest from a saintly figure and she was by far the guiltiest for how his life had turned out.

She’d been the one who had given the command, the one who had made the decision that had ruined his life. It was because of her that he’d been on every major newspaper and news article in the country. It was because of her that he’d lost those that he cared about the most. Even then, as famous as he’d been for a scandal he’d never even been part of he hadn’t been able to touch her. Now, an unknown nobody, a beggar, he took his first revenge.

Revenge wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t even a taste. It was a sensation. A pleasant tingle that gently caressed him from head to toe.

As the next coin clinked onto his slowly growing pile Azrael expanded his [Mana Sense] as far as it could go, checking for wards, spells and anything else that might interfere with what he was about to do.

Under the effects of his skill a world of colours revealed themselves to him. The remnant bits of mana from past spells floated about, while runes lined parts of the plaza and the buildings adjacent; Cleaning runes, anti-theft runes, alarm runes. There were hundreds of little rune spells around, though nothing overly powerful of dangerous. Even the large statue behind him, for all of its splendour, was devoid of anything greater fantastic. The only peculiarity of the stature was the faint presence of divine energy that was infused through it. The energy was similar to the one Sophie drew upon, likely belonging to Purity.

It was the two stone pillars at the center of the plaza, surprisingly, that caught his attention. Both pillars were brilliant white in his vision, completely saturated with mana. The broken one leaked a little mana into the air from its broken stump, though it was a barely noticeable amount.

Between the two pillars was what Azrael could only describe as a mana void. Like a two-dimensional doorway, the mana void was like a black gate into the abyss. It was completely dead and devoid of mana to his senses, though he could see the entire ambient mana in the area slowly move towards the two pillars and the gate. The mana vanished into it like light beyond the event horizon.

Mesmerised he watched for another twenty minutes, but didn’t discover anything more. Even sending in a streamer of his own mana brought no new discovery. The small bit of mana was simply ripped from his grasp, vanishing beyond the mana void. Instead of spending any ore mana on studying the anomaly before him he instead placed both of his hands onto the statue behind him and let his own mana uncurl inside it.

Minutes passed by, as his mana slowly made its way up the statue. It was slow work and the divine energy in the statue partially resisted his mana, making the task harder. Eventually though, his mana reached the top and he carefully opened up his internal gate to the void as he began [Void Shaping].

He had been fearful of the possible side effects of the void, but Mors had taught him that a tool was just that – a tool. There was no such thing as a good or a bad tool. What he did with it was his choice. So far, other than affecting a number on his [Status] he hadn’t noticed a change and right now he needed it for his revenge.

Void energy raced along his mana, like lightning down a lightning rod. He felt want to jump, wanting to arc out of his control, but he held it tight. It was his to control and. it. Would. Obey!

The turbulent energies stilled, briefly, under his will and rapidly moved to where he directed it. It latched onto the marble, guided by his mana and even the divine energies in the statue stood no chance of resisting as he took control of the statue.

As if moulded by invisible hands two horns grew outwards and upward out of Melissa’s head, while her serene smile twisted into a grotesque sneer filled with crooked teeth. Like water, her face flowed downwards, aging – sagging and full of wrinkles. A single witch’s wart adorned her nose. It was still recognisably her, though aged another fifty years.

As an egotistic, narcissistic, self-righteous personality Azrael knew that there would be nothing that infuriated her more than someone messing with her beauty, her statue and her image as a saint. Still, he didn’t stop there.

Moving back downwards he drew material from her clothes, leaving her in the skimpiest outfit he could imagine and then using the removed stone to form hideous skeletal wings behind her and a demonic tail. A slight bulge formed between her legs as he hid extra material there, before moving downwards to elongate her feet into goat hooves. The scales in her claw like hands were replaced with a screaming head held by the hair. Her pedestal changed from a single block into the mauled, gored and bloody bodies of faceless enemies.

The process of changing the statue was far quicker than the infusing of mana had been, taking only minutes. Still almost all of his mana had been exhausted yet again, for the third time since he’d tried to enter the city.

He opened his eyes to silence. Around him countless eyes belonging to hundreds of people in the plaza looked up at the statue. Somewhere a scream echoed out and it was like the breaking of a dam. People yelled, voices were raised, and players rattled their weapons in their scabbards.

A notification appeared in the corner of Azrael’s vision, suddenly multiplying into two. He let it be, as he picked up his earnings and tried to slip away.

It was a bad idea to stay beneath the statue in lieu of current events. Still, what he felt wasn’t fear, but a certain thrill and satisfaction. It wasn’t much as revenge, but after so many years if felt so good!

A troupe of elite guards, accompanied by priests, pushed their way through the crowd from the cathedral, while patrols from all over the city convened in the direction of the plaza.

A feminine voice raised itself over the crowd, full of doubt, and carried itself to his ears.

“SAM?”

Azrael turned towards the voice, hearing the familiar name. Was Sam here? It couldn’t be. It had to be another Sam. Still, he stopped his escape in the slim possibility that it was Sam, the Samson that he knew.

Instead it was a face framed by silver hair and silver fox ears that he saw. Halfway across the plaza the familiar face of Sophie looked at him, her eyes locked on to his and full of doubt.

Azrael wasted no time and vanished into the crowd. He couldn’t afford to be caught here. Not here. Not now. Not by her.

Making his way to the edge of the plaza he finally left the crowds and ran down an alleyway, letting the twists and turns guide him further and further away at random. Eventually he stopped, huffing and puffing with a grin on his face.

Certain that he’d lost his possible pursuer he dropped onto a stair leading up to a door and checked his notifications.

Warning!

For defacing a statue blessed by Purity you have been temporarily marked by Purity. All high level priests of Purity can sense you within a certain distance and will hunt you down.

Warning!

Due to you title {Sinner} your punishment has increased. You have gained the title {Marked by Purity}. All high level priests of Purity that come in contact with you can always tell where you are within a certain distance.