In the Elven city of Esmel, three Humans, one Drake, and two Elves waited impatiently. They were sitting in the base of a great [Arbor] tree, and one of the leaders of the locked-down city. The [Arbor] himself sat nearby as well, but he wasn’t waiting impatiently. His pseudo-immortal life had taught him many things, one of which was patience.

[Arbor] Xylem, the only city leader fully awake was currently in a rustic, cracked, wooden body. He wore robes that hid most of his body – a body that looked like it had been blown to bits from the inside and pieced back together with superglue and thumbtack. There was a legend about [Arbor] bodies and that the growths or forms the land-class acquired with their transformation was directly related to being’s inner emotion.

Xylem didn’t agree with the legend, however.

Things had been progressing smoothly with Esmel as of late. It would take a year for all of the [Arbors] to wake up, but after the third or fourth, the dome of roots should be retreated enough to allow outside entry. Not that the city truly needed the dome to be removed. At least, to most.

Esmel was a trade city, import export was their bread and butter. The dome had put the city in an economic stasis, but through sheer pride, the city flourished. It was tough in the beginning, but once the citizens realized they were in it for the long haul, everyone bunkered down and got to work. Food was the first step, then rebuilding.

Growing food was rather easy for how labor intensive it was. Multiple crop fields had been set up in stripped sections of land, [Water Mages] were on call while children ran around plucking fruit and vegetables. Every once and a while a [Dirt Mage] had to refresh the soil, but for the most part the [Crop Farmers] had everything under control.

Rebuilding was difficult mainly because Esmel simply didn’t have the raw material to do so. Not being able to import hurt the once pristine town, battle and war had ruined it so. But the city became anew due in part to Lost Lord Max Fowler. Most didn’t know the young man’s contributions towards the city, but those who did understood the situation quite well.

Esmel owed Max. Big time.

From teleporting raw materials into the city to buying random luxury goods, Max had single handedly allowed the city to rebuild and kept the peace. He also gave away a secret magical technique – one that had yet to bear fruit, but one that could have lasting effects. Truthfully, Max didn’t understand what he did, even ignoring the fact that a Goddess and Ruler are now watching him.

Xylem only hoped the boy would show up soon. He wasn’t sure if Reep could keep Clammy calm for much longer.

Truthfully, Xylem didn’t like that Esmel was chosen as a rendezvous for a prison break, but he understood the reasoning quite well. Max was being tracked and if he succeeded and razed Alia from the dungeon, she too will be tracked. If the eldest princess was brought to Lesterwood, there is little doubt that the [Master Trackers] won’t find out. Which would put Lesterwood in Salae’s warpath.

Esmel being protected by the [Arbor] dome meant that the city was essentially a safe haven. At least until the other [Arbors] begin to wake up and the dome falls. But, if all went well, Alia’s scent will have long since dissipated by then.

The whole event was strange to Xylem, not as strange as Clammy being an estranged princess – that was weirder to the ancient man. Looking back on it, her stature as royalty made since from the way she-

A quiet crack of a whip sounded from the middle of the room. Max appeared with Emi on his shoulder in an abrupt movement. The Lost Lord didn’t waste time, instead pulling water from the air and readying a solid arsenal of frozen weaponry. The sudden appearance and intense atmosphere caused Vel and Bishop to rush to their feet.

“Vel, Bishop! Be ready! I have an extra passenger!”

The two teachers couldn’t respond before Max opened the entrance to his Pocket World. The air went cold as everyone prepared more attacks and waited for something to happen. A distinctly male arm stuck out of the purple shimmer, then a shoulder then a left set of toes and a knee.

“-re you sure we are here? Where even is here-“ The man fully surfaced mid conversation, his voice raspy and full of thirst, but quickly cut his words short. His body was naked and covered in dirt and filth – except for his arms and bear chest. His hair was well past his shoulder blades and covered a majority of his face.

A distinctly female body crashed into the man from behind before pushing him forward with an overly hard shove, “I told you not to stand in the entrance! That’s like standing in a door-“ Alia’s voice trailed off…

Alia looked much the same as she did in the dungeon, but with proper lighting everyone could see that her time in prison did not do her well. She, however, was in a much better mood. Within the short time it took Max to grab the man, throw him into his Pocket World, and teleport away, Alia found a smile for the first time in a while.

The sight of countless spells removed her affection instantly. Clammy yelled, “Alia! Come here, away from him!”

Alia spun to look at her sister. A wellspring of tears formed and fell from the eldest princesses eyes. She began to move, but her body was too heavy – she was too weak. Suddenly an odd feeling wrapped around her destitute body, she felt was though she was being tickled. A rather harsh tickle, but at the same time, she felt her body lighten. She could walk easier, move easier, breathe easier.

Gravity magic, Alia realized as amazement showed across her gentle steps.

Once the hostage was safely secured in Clammy’s arms, Bishop stepped forward misreading the situation, “Look here, guy, I don’t want to kill you. But if you put up a fight, spells are going to be thrown. Do you understand.”

“No- Bishop-“ Max began but was interrupted.

With a great deal of effort, the man spoke, “If you could kill me, that would be perfectly splendid. Give me your best attack, please!” The man held up his arms and gave the elder Drake a wide target.

Bishop eyed the man before looking at Max, “Uhh, what?”

“Alia said to bring him. She also said that he is the creator of Vast Empire.”

The room exploded into yelling. Clammy yelled questions at her sister, Bishop yelled questions at the man, Reep yelled questions at Max. Vel, however, didn’t waste time. One Ice Lance shot forward with speed that rivaled a lightning bolt. It hit the man in the chest, shattering his bones like brittle glass. It passed through his lungs and destroyed his heart before exiting out his back with a clean hole.

The sudden attack silenced the room, all eyes fell on the man who teetered on his feet. He swayed and blinked slowly, eventually falling over into a pool of his own frozen blood. Then, all eyes turned to Vel who shrugged.

“Better to end it now before he could do anything.”

Alia began to laugh. A cackling laugh full of pain and wasted emotion. Her giggles turned to tears which turned to sobs and full body shaking. Reep and Clammy began to comfort her, but she held a weak hand.

A single pointed finger pulled all attention from Vel and the former prisoner to the man who laid dead within [Arbor] Xylem’s trunk.

It started with a twitching finger which acted like a shockwave. Movement found its way through the man’s body along with knitting flesh and fresh skin. Blood reversed around the man, entering his wounds, finding new life before being pumped from a restored heart. He sat up as hairs began to sprout from his new chest.

“Want to try again?” The man asked, his eyes finding Vel’s small frame.

Bishop acted, striking with a thunderbolt. The man didn’t explode into viscera, rather his skin turned dark, and smoke wafted from his torched body. He fell to the floor, dead… again.

“Explain. Alia.” Bishop commanded, his eyes predatory slits.

“He’s immortal. Weak as a level one but cursed to live forever.” She watched the man’s skin revert colors, “Inspect him when he wakes up, you’ll see.”

The group did exactly that. The man slowly sat up, said a snarky comment, then felt the piercing gaze of multiple Inspects targeting his unruled soul.

Immortal, [Immortal]

Level one

Max craned his head at the weird notification. If what the System was saying was true, then that meant the man’s race is considered to be Immortal as well as having the class [Immortal]. The System also displaying the man’s level was odd, something Max had only seen one other time - the Elven gardener that worked at the Class Stones in Esmel. Usually, the System only displayed levels for non-bonded monsters.

“The name is Isaac.” The man said, standing up fully, “Does anyone have any spare clothes? It’s quite drafty in this… tree?” He scanned his eyes around the room, finding the [Arbor] in the corner, “Oh, an [Arbor]! It’s been a while since I’ve seen one of those. Are we in the Elven capital?”

Xylem strolled forward. As he walked, roots and vines cracked through the floor and walls before wrapping around Isaac. A wooden finger slowly protruded out from Xylem’s splintered hand; he pushed the bound man in the forehead before stepping away.

“This is the city of Esmel. Who are you?”

“Esmel? I thought a tidal wave wiped it off the map. I guess I’ve been imprisoned for a long while, so that’s not very surprising.”

Xylem poked the man three more times in rhythm with his words, “Who. Are. You?”

“I already said my name.” He looked around the room, “Is the tree deaf? No insult meant, mind you. I knew a deaf [Arbor] years ago.”

Alia spoke up, “Just answer the question, Isaac. Please.”

Isaac sighed, “I am Isaac the [Immortal]. Last of my kind, only of my kind. As far as I know.” He thought for a moment, “Oh yeah, I founded Vast Empire.”

A spike of ice pierced through his forehead. His head fell back from the surprise and all eyes turned to the cause.

“What?” Vel asked. No one responded.

“Why’d you bring him, Max?” Bishop asked.

Max and Emi had moved over to stand beside Celenia and Belopi – both of whom looked rather disturbed, “Alia asked me to.”

All eyes fell to Alia. She took cue, “Isaac is not what he seems. He was cursed centuries ago, long before my grandfather took the throne. He was tricked into starting Vast Empire as a cruel punishment-“

“Ah, that is not quite accurate, dear Alia. Allow me,” Isaac was back alive – still bound in roots, “I started Vast Empire as a means to rebel against oppressive monarchies. Salae, in particular…”

Isaac began to explain his life. He started as a simple man with a simple class – [Peasant Censer]. He led his small village in prayer every evening, just like his father before him. Life was tough but manageable. Until new laws and taxes were put into place by Salae. Isaac had never even heard of Salae. His village was too isolated, too separated from normal means of communication. They didn’t know a full fledge kingdom had taken authority over their village.

Life became harder, especially with the [Royal Tax Collectors] that hounded the poorest villagers. One fateful evening – while being led in prayer – a collector arrived in the village with armed guard. She demanded money, which the village could pay, but also required a service fee, which the village could not pay.

Isaac skipped over most of the details, but one thing led to another which resulted in the village being massacred. Only Isaac and his sister were allowed to live since they had Divine backing in the form of the Goddess of Light, Ofes. The collector and guards left to another village, leaving countless dead and two spiteful individuals alive.

Isaac and his sister pleaded for Divine Intervention, but they were ignored like many before them. The Divine were an elusive bunch, often only using their power for their own gain. Ofes was no exception.

Somewhere down the line, Isaac and his sister braved the travel to Salae. They petitioned the current King for an audience and after months of waiting, they were seen. Isaac laid out proof of the injustice as well as explaining the hardships they had encountered. The King didn’t seem to care and cast the siblings out.

They were not done, however. It took years but eventually the pair found support from others in the same situation. A group was formed, Vast Empire. It was comprised of a families and the broken – people who had nothing left, nowhere to go, nothing in their lives but the guilt of surviving when their villages did not.

The issue was that not all of the members came from the same kingdoms. Some were from Renloc, Cresthill, and a few other debunked civilizations. How were they supposed to create change when different laws applied to different peasants? Isaac had an idea; stage a public appearance in each capital city asking for support.

Details were hashed out, meeting places created, and time for revolt was upon. The night before the demonstration, a vision came to Isaac and his sister. Ofes was everything Isaac imagined in his piety. A beautiful woman with a cascade of power and light. She was a Goddess, and he would scar the image into his eyes.

Ofes explained a simple plan. She agreed with Isaac and his sister about the harsh living conditions Salae, and other dominions had created. She offered the pair power. Power to show the rulers of the world that the Divine were the ones calling the shots. Power to cause everyone to take hand and live as one. Power to show Ofes’s strength.

Isaac and his sister accepted, of course. The offer sounded too good to be true… which in fact was the case. The day of the demonstration the siblings stood in front of the castle. They shouted experiences to anyone who’d listen. They talked about Vast Empire and how they were creating a land where anyone could feel welcome – everyone had a voice. Peasants were a thing of the past; everyone was equal in their new world.

They were only able to preach for a few hours before a royal order forced the guard to move the two along. That was when Ofes’s power was supposed to activate. Except, something tragic happened instead. Isaac’s sister exploded, killing herself and those around her.

Isaac was too stunned to react. He didn’t understand what had just transpired. One moment his sister was being pulled by guards, the next her person filled with dark and twisted energy. It was obvious she activated Ofes’s gift, but the outcome was nothing like Isaac expected.

It would be three days later – during his execution, that Isaac would learn the truth.

The King stood on a podium in the upper city square. He read from a scroll about the vile deeds Vast Empire had done. Renloc, Sky’s Deep, Banville, Kherberry, Cresthill, all cities Vast Empire had attacked. Hundreds dead in suicide bombings. The King declared Isaac the leader and sentenced his head to be removed.

The [Executioner]’s axe was swift and painless. Isaac remembered his first death quite well. He remembered the smear of blood, the smell of iron, the gasps from the crowd. He remembered seeing his lifeless body for the first time. It laid there motionless as his head was picked up by a poor [Servant]. He remembered the moments before his head was placed in a sack – specifically the look on the King’s face.

Most of all, Isaac remembered the notification that appeared during his first death.

You have been cursed by God Ikzag for failing a Divine Ordinance

Your life is forfeit.

Class [Peasant Censer] has been removed.

Class [Devout Villager] has been removed.

Class [Immortal] has been forcibly set under Divine Punishment.

38 levels have been removed.

114 stat points have been removed.

Congratulations, you are now level 1!

“Failure shows weakness. Forever you will be weak.”

-Ikzag

Over the years Isaac received bits and pieces of information from the outside. Vast Empire was now considered a terroristic group backed by Ikzag the Pestilence and all members were kill on sight. Many cities had been ruined by the new wave of devout followers, which all of the blame fell onto Isaac.

One particular night after a particularly rough torture session, Isaac fell. He prayed to Ofes.

She responded and explained that he had been tricked, that she never once spoke to him nor his sister, that she could not help him, and that she was cleaning up his mess. Her words were spoken in a calm and collected way, however, a way that soothed Isaac. He accepted her words as gospel and decided that his Goddess was correct.

His punishment was his fault.

It took many years, years left only to thought, but Isaac finally realized Ofes was wrong. He had prayed to her every evening for years, only asked to have those lost in his village to be avenged, and then was ignored. Whether or not Ikzag took on Ofes’s skin and tricked him, the fact was Ofes was at fault also.

The Goddess could have helped at any step of the way. She could have protected the village from the collector, she could have reprimanded the King, she could have blocked Ikzag’s involvement, she could have saved Isaac’s sister. She sure as hells could have stopped the bombings.

For the first time since his village was destroyed, Isaac was angry. But what could he do? His was imprisoned. Every few years a guard would listen to his story, but that hardly mattered. They would just shrug off the tale, after all, it came from a terrorist leader.

That was, until Isaac met a young [King] Tobyn Salae. Tobyn listened, after all, his father had explained that he promised to find a way to kill the immoral man. Tobyn was sure the answer to immortality laid in Isaac’s past. So, he listened to the story.

Whether or not he empathized with the once devout man was up in the air, but Tobyn listened which eased Isaac’s anger. Over the years the two would become quite well equated with each other. Tobyn felt as though he understood the Empire as well as the Divine better while Isaac felt like he understood the limitations of royalty.

The story ends with Tobyn’s death, Eden’s rise, and Alia’s imprisonment… That was, until a young Lost Lord broke him out.