After Irene cald down, she said to Gerhart. "Gerhart, this is enough for today. Read the Ho Magic Instruction Manual, and we will continue tomorrow."
"I am still bad at reading, so can you help while Hope ditates?" Gerhart asked.
"Sure." Irene nodded.
Irene then taught Gerhart from the instruction manual while Hope continued ditating. Ho magic was very simplistic, so most commoners with F-Grade magic and above could use it after several months or years of training in their spare ti. Since it was helpful, anyone with sufficiently high magic would study it.
While studying, intentionally or not, Irene made subtle gestures, such as sliding back her hair, lightly touching Gerhart's arm, pointing at certain lines, and revealing her skin more while claiming it was hot.
"Is she seducing ?" Gerhart wondered. "If she wasn't born in this village, she could have got herself a stable husband, but now she is seducing a stranger just to get a child. I don't know what to think about this village."
He then looked at her and had a stray thought, his hand subconsciously clenching as his eyes flashed a silvery hue, "It would be easy to subdue her first. She is too vulnerable. I only need a blow to the back of her head. After I subdue her, I can dominate her as I please..."
Gerhart slowly lost control and was about to take action when-
Clack*
"Mommy! I'm ho!" A cute 5-year-old girl entered the house, full of smiles.
"My little Bonnie!" Irene imdiately got up and walked to her daughter, face full of smiles.
"I... I almost..." Gerhart was shaken awake, his eyes returning to their original brown, his hand unclenching. "I... I need to get out of here! NOW!" He thought in panic. With that decided, Gerhart stood up.
"Oh? Gerhart? Are you leaving?" Irene asked while patting her daughter.
"Yes. I think I will continue reading at ho," Gerhart said, trying to hold himself back as much as possible before he did sothing he would regret.
"I am also done." At this ti, Hope exited her ditative state and stood up. "Thank you for teaching us today."
"No problem. Take care." Irene smiled and waved goodbye.
"Bye, uncle!" The young girl waved.
Gerhart and Hope then left Irene's house and returned to their guesthouse. Once they arrived, Gerhart collapsed on a chair, holding his forehead full of cold sweat.
"Hope, I can't control myself. My thoughts are changing, overwritten by foreign desires. If I don't do sothing soon, I fear I will reach the no-return point." Gerhart said his worries.
"I don't know how to deal with it, but perhaps if you elevate to an Envoy, I will have an answer," Hope suggested.
"How much energy and how long will it take?" Gerhart asked.
"Envoys cost 1,000 points each for elevation, and they get lesser powers of Conquest. The ti is also shorter, an hour at most." Hope replied.
"Okay. Let's do it." Gerhart nodded.
After closing the windows, Hope lay on a bed, and Gerhart spent 1,000 points to elevate her to an Envoy.
Visually, nothing changed about her. There were no sounds, either. It was like she entered a coma.
Gerhart patiently waited, and after so ti, Hope finally woke up.
When she opened her eyes and looked at Gerhart, Gerhart saw her pink eyes flashing a silvery light.
Thrall: Hope Farrington's Power has elevated to Envoy.
"Hope? Are you okay?" Gerhart worriedly asked.
"Yes, I am fine, Gerhart." Hope nodded.
"Did you see any vision or the sort?" Gerhart asked.
"No. Instead, I felt information cramd in my head. Also, I gained two powers. One, I gained an affinity for the concept of Conquest. However, it is inferior to Gerhart's. Second, I gained the ability to build Grade 1 Statues of Conquest, which can absorb energy and use it as you allow it, create Thralls, bless, and heal when controlled by an Envoy." Hope explained.
"That would be convenient... If I wanted to build a force." Gerhart pursed his lips.
"I know, right?" Hope scratched her cheek.
"So? Any ideas about how I am supposed to control this power?" Gerhart asked.
"There are two ways to use your powers. The first is instinctive, uncontrolled reactions to emotional impulses. I think you used it when we were doing magic ditation." Hope said.
"So that's what it was..." Gerhart recalled how the magic particles suddenly obeyed him like servants. "And the other thod?"
"The other thod is to Conquer yourself," Hope said, pointing at Gerhart.
"Conquering myself?" Gerhart raised an eyebrow.
"Yes. Conquer yourself before you Conquer the world. That is a core teaching of how to wield the power of Conquest."
"Conquer yourself... before you Conquer the world..." Gerhart muttered and then smiled. "I like that saying. Would it solve my desire for Conquest?"
"No." Hope shook her head.
"What? Why?!" Gerhart felt like his last chance got destroyed.
"Your power is not entirely yours at the mont. If I were to describe it, it is more like you are riding an untad horse you can't dismount. You might be able to steer it for so ti, but it will eventually lose its patience, taking you wherever it wants. However, conquering yourself is like taming the horse, allowing you to steer it as you please. But the paradox lies with the power of taming it. How would you ta Conquest when you are borrowing the power itself? The answer is that it is impossible unless you fuse with the horse, IE, Conquest. You can command it as you wish by fusing with it, but by doing so, you will willingly receive its will." Hope explained. "Of course, this is much better than not being in control."
"Is there no other way?" Gerhart warily asked.
"None. The original owner of the power you wield was no fool. He wouldn't leave a loophole for you to exploit. Perhaps only the gods can separate you at this point, but they seldom ddle in mortal affairs. Even then, they are likely to either kill or seal you rather than help you." Hope shook her head. "I am sorry Gerhart."
"... Shit..." Gerhart bit his lower lip, his hands clenching.
He knew he didn't have long before the power inside him would start controlling his actions. He almost assaulted Irene in her house.
After a few deep breaths, Gerhart asked, "If I do this... Will I still be ?" Gerhart asked.
"Of course, but you will experience a change of ntality into that of a conquerer. As for what kind of conqueror, that is up to you." Hope replied.
"... Okay. Let's do this. How do I conquer myself?" Gerhart asked, resolving himself.
"Go to the bed, close your eyes, and try going deeper into yourself. You will instinctively know the rest." Hope instructed.
Gerhart nodded and did as told, lying on the bed and closing his eyes. And then he tried going deeper into himself, although he didn't understand what it ant.
The next mont, under his closed eyelids, his brown eyes shined with a silver hue as he felt himself plunging into darkness.
.
.
.
"You can open your eyes." Gerhart heard a familiar yet unfamiliar voice.
When he opened his eyes, he found himself in a pitch-black space, with only one visible figure in front. He saw a rough-looking and scarred man in his late twenties, a head shorter than him, dressed in roughspun slave clothes.
Gerhart recognized the figure. It was Deadat.
"Hello... . Or should I say future ?" Deadat sheepishly smiled while scratching his unkempt beard.
"Why are you here? Am I supposed to conquer you to conquer myself?" Gerhart frowned and asked.
"No... I am rely your guide in your journey to conquer yourself. To conquer yourself, you must first reflect on your past. You know as well as I do that this won't be a pleasant ride." Deadat gave a bitter smile.
"Hah... I know. But we must do it." Gerhart sighed, readying himself to the hell that was his life as Deadat.
"Are you sure? You sealed those mories to cope with the ntal trauma it caused. It might drastically change your disposition." Deadat warned.
"I know. I am ready." Gerhart grimaced, clenching his fists.
"Hah... Very well." Deadat sighed and snapped his fingers.
The next mont, the black background shifted to a podium on a bustling street. In front of Gerhart's eyes, many demi-humans of many races bid prices.
"30!"
"35!"
"45!"
"50!"
Gerhart looked down at his arms and saw childish arms, that of a young boy barely four or five years old.
"Ah... My first mory. I was dumb, and my mory was poor, so this traumatizing mory of being sold in an auction is my first mory." Gerhart thought.
He didn't even know who his parents were, likely slaves themselves. He was bred and sold like livestock.
"70!" Finally, a fat dog-type demi-human called.
"70 once! 70 twice! Sold for 70 Silver Coins!" The auctioneer called.
"That's right. I got sold for a few days of laborer work. That was the worth of my life." Gerhart thought.
The scene then shifted to Gerhart's second traumatizing mory. In front of a fireplace, a branding iron got heated before marking Deadat's childish back.
"GAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!"
"AAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!"
Gerhart felt the excruciating pain as his flesh was burnt and seared by the red iron, scarred for life for no reason other than sadistic enjoynt.
And then, as Deadat collapsed and drooled on the ground, spasming, his face got grabbed by a furry hand. The next mont, Deadat saw the face he hated for the rest of his life.
"Let's see... I'll call you Deadat. Hehehe..." The dog-eared fat man nacingly laughed, smoked a cigarette, and blew a cloud of smoke at his face.
The scene then shifted again. Gerhart found himself on a bed.
Creek* Creek* Creek* Creek*
"Hahahaha! Tighten up!" The detestable voice sounded from behind him.
"Uu... I don't want this! It hurts so much!" Deadat ntally cried.
Gerhart, who rembered this event, beca infuriated, almost losing his mind. "THAT MOTHEREFUCKER!!! ARGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!! I WANT TO KILL HIM AND BUTCHER HIS WHOLE FAMILY AND FEED THEM TO GOBLINS!!!!!!!"
It wasn't a one-ti thing. It continued until Deadat was 11, or in his owner's words, too old.
And unfortunately, his torntor never got his just desserts. When he was 11, he got sold again. This ti, they made him go to the mines, where he spent seven years, miraculously surviving.
By luck, the mine ran out of ore, and there were too many mining slaves, so he got sold as a luggage carrier due to his Pack Mule talent.
For another ten years, Deadat changed hands, gaining experience as a veteran luggage carrier, surviving by tooth and nail countless tis. This reputation of surviving all the ti allowed him to join the subjugation party against the Great Labyrinth of Terror.
"Perhaps it would have been a blessing if I died. I don't know why I clung to life so desperately." Gerhart thought.
The scene paused as the adult Deadat appeared.
"Do you not know? Or are you deliberately forgetting?" Deadat questioned. "Have you forgotten it? Your ambition? Your wish?"
"... Shut up..." Gerhart frowned, gritting his teeth.
"He... Hehehe. Hihihi. Hahahaha!!! AHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!" Deadat burst into maniacal laughter as the scene shifted.
Gerhart then found himself in a grand hall. In front of him stood his four masters, facing their greatest challenge, a black-clad armored knight with burning white eyes.
"Deadat! Go into cover!" His Transcendent Elf master yelled.
"Yes, Mistress!" Deadat replied and went to hide behind one of the pillars. But nobody noticed the sinister smile on his lips.
The battle then raged on, Deadat feeling the tremors and aftershocks. And soon, everything turned quiet. Deadat remained unhard, unscathed.
"Deadat! Co out! We need potions!" His Transcendent Elf Mistress yelled again.
"Coming!" Deadat masked his sinister look and made an urgent look like a try-hard bootlicker.
When he stepped out, he saw that his High Oni Saintess and Mountain King Dwarf masters were unconscious, with his Dragon Man master missing an arm and a leg and his Transcendent Elf Mistress panting and out of mana.
As for the final boss, it was dead, shattered into pieces. On the throne, he saw a white crystal floating in the air, tiny lines inscribed inside.
"We finally won. Hurry up and give a mana potion!" The Transcendent Elf Mistress said, wiping her sweat.
"Yes, Mistress." Deadat took out a blue potion and gave it to her.
"Thank you, Deadat. When we get out of here, I will have you emancipated. You earned it." She smiled.
Deadat had a slightly complicated look in his eyes before smiling. "Thank you, Mistress. It was an honor to serve you."
Not understanding the implications of his words, his Mistress drank the potion without worry while Deadat went to treat his Dragon Man master.
"Sorry, Deadat, for how we treated you all this ti. Without you, we would have probably died in the dungeon several tis." The Dragon Man said and drank a healing potion Deadat gave while Deadat bandaged the now-scabbed wounds with bandages.
"It is alright, Master. You are my best masters by far." Deadat earnestly said.
He wasn't lying. The heroic party was indeed his best and most caring. Compared to his other masters, that is.
Deadat then ran to his other two unconscious masters and gave them potions one after another.
Just as he finished feeding his Great Oni Mistress—
Pfft*
The Transcendent Elf Archmage suddenly spat black blood, her beautiful face filled with black veins.
"W-Wha... Ah..." She uttered in shock. "Deadat! Bring an antidote! Quickly— Ah..."
But then she saw Deadat's twisted smile as he finished feeding the Saintess a Mana Potion.
"Y-You bastard!" The elf Archmage beca infuriated and pointed her finger at him. "DOOM LIGHTNING— PFft!"
Her spellcasting not only failed, but it also worsened her condition.
"DEADAT! YOU BA— COUgh* Cough*" The Dragon Man Grand Knight coughed blood, his veins bulging and popping.
"One of the first rules is to never entrust your potions in the hands of soone you don't trust." Deadat gloated, watching the scene in glee. "I spiked your potions with the most horrible poisons I could get my hands on. Luckily, you guys made a mana-purge hell-snake and a blood-eroding doom-bat drop their venom sacks. You were so tired that you didn't even notice the difference!"
Pfft*
The dwarf and Oni masters coughed black blood, evidently inflicted with the exact ailnts.
"How... Did you do it? You are under contract..." The elf Mistress weakly asked.
"Ah? That thing? I could completely resist it at lvl 83." Deadat confessed.
"Level 83?! When?!" The Dragon Man widened his bloodshot reptilian eyes.
"Long story short, I had many close shavings with death and always trained myself in secret, and then used Magic Stones I secretly stole to level up, not that any of my masters noticed since they made settle the money, including you," Deadat apathetically said.
"But why?! Why betray us!" The Dragon Man roared, his body growing more and more numb.
"Betray you? ?" Deadat tilted his head, his smile growing wider. "I was never on your side in the first place. I am just a slave. It is rebellion, not betrayal. I never thought of you as friends but as oppressors. You are no better than all my other shitty masters, you bunch of bloody hypocrites."
"He... Hehe. So that's how it was..." The Dragon Man mournfully laughed before collapsing, dead.
By this ti, the elf archmage and the other two also died. The only winner was Deadat.
"Hehe... Hihihi. Hahahaha. AHAHAHAHA!!!" Deadat let out a maniacal laughter and then looked at the crystal.
"According to my now-dead masters, this crystal is a relic of untold power... I want it..." Deadat, unhinged, walked over to it with unbridled ambitions.
"Oh, relic. Give power. Give the power to change my destiny, fulfill my ambitions and overthrow the rotten order of this shitty world!" Deadat said with a crazed voice, about to grab it.
Stab*
"Hah?" Deadat uttered as he looked down at his chest, pierced with a sword. It got him right in the heart.
"Fuck you... Plop*" The Dragon Man, who threw the sword, uttered his last words and collapsed, exceptionally dead this ti.
"Shit... Cough*" Deadat spat red blood on the pure-white crystal.
Funnily enough, the blood he spat got absorbed, and it responded by flying into Deadat's chest.
And then, Deadat died.
Yes. What killed Deadat wasn't the Final Boss but a retaliation blow from one of his masters after backstabbing them.
The scene then faded, returning into the pitch-black space.
Gerhart then found himself with the maniacally grinning Deadat. "Well? What do you think? Little Gerhart? How does it feel to witness your REAL mories? Hm?"
"... It sucks," Gerhart said, a bitter taste in his mouth.
"I know, right?!" Deadat had a twisted look. "It sucked so badly that you refused to accept them! That's why your mind tricked itself into changing them into sothing barely acceptable! But now, you know. You are an ambitious evil-doer wanting power over all, created by the filth of this world! Maybe we should be called Rottenat instead, hah?"
"Perhaps you, but not us." Suddenly, another figure showed up.
This one was a figure Gerhart was more familiar with. It resembled Deadat but looked much younger and less scared by life.
"Ah... The loser is here." Deadat scowled.
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