The Last Experience Point

For the second time in Zach's life, he wore a fancy suit. But at least this one had real style. As much as he hated to admit it, the black suit with the glowing red rose on the front left pocket was extremely classy and immediately made him stand out—but in what he genuinely thought was a good way. He'd also carefully combed his hair, shaved his face, and honestly? He almost looked like a different person.

Still, I hate being without my equipment and my sword.

That day in Shadowfall Coast, when they'd been about to roll for the dragon's loot—it now left him feeling vulnerable in a way he just didn't care for. And as he examined himself in the large, but unoccupied bathroom mirror, he couldn't help but tap himself three times on his right-shoulder blade, which caused words to appear in the air before him. At the moment, he was without his cloak, which meant he had no Helm Sight whatsoever. Thus, he was back to reading things the old-fashioned way.

Zachys Calador: Level 26

(388277/500000xp)

54 strength

53 dexterity

54 constitution

82 intelligence

47 speed

15 luck

Zach frowned. His base stats were all right, but not nearly as high as they should be. At level 26, having only 54 strength put him just 2 points ahead of the bare minimum a sword-user would be expected to have at his level. Honestly, the gear Fylwen had given him was so ludicrously strong that it had catapulted him ahead of where he'd naturally be if he fought "naked," so to speak. This, of course, was something he could overcome with Unleashed Phase, but put simply, he just plain didn't like having to always rely on that ability.

I need to level more, he thought. It's just not enough.

Putting away the information, he exited this disgustingly fancy men's room, with its golden faucet handles and self-cleaning toilets, and he stepped into the most magnificent amphitheater he'd ever seen here in the UCH—the United Council for Humanity.

Without a doubt, it was the finest structure in all of Slopes of Dal'Zarrah, and it was the capital of humanity itself. Everywhere Zach looked were rows upon rows of seats that led up to the top of its stadium-like environment, but for the moment, they were unoccupied, as council was not in session today; no, today he was taking part in a meeting that was a little bit more private but every bit as important.

You better never forget this, Tyson, he thought to himself as he walked into the amphitheater, through the center of it, and then into an already opened door at the opposite end, where two armed level-1 guards were standing facing one another; both men made a "huh!" sound and raised their rifles as he walked past. The entire thing was clearly for show. Those bullets would bounce off anyone of any real importance who tried to get through them.

Inside the door was a large, rounded table covered in a rich, dark-blue tablecloth with trimmed edges. Level-1 servants were shuffling back and forth throughout the room, each of them dressed in suits and wearing white gloves, many of them on the older side. "Here you are, Lord Alazar," one said as he poured a cup of reddish liquid.

As Zach entered the room, every head turned towards him—but one in particular immediately caught his attention. He smiled, and she smiled back.

She looks incredible!

He hadn't seen her in almost two weeks, and the world seemed to stop as he took in the sight of Kalana. She was dressed so beautifully that it nearly took his breath away. She wore a soft, tailored coat with a light-blue color, and a crown adorned her head that actually highlighted and brought attention to her pointed ears, which she had spent most of her life concealing. Her mother, sitting beside her, wore an almost identical outfit, only her crown was more pronounced and embedded with gems and other types of flair.

"Kalana," he whispered. The sight of her caused nearly all the others in the room to fade away. For the moment, there was just her and her alone. But quickly, he was brought back to reality as he felt someone tugging on his sleeve.

"Zach, what are you doing?" Vim whispered to him, having gotten out of his chair. "Have a seat."

"Uh, yeah, right."

Zach joined the table, sitting next to Haisel Ragora, who himself sat next to Vim Alazar. The three of them had their own little "section." Kalana and her mother were across from him. And in clockwise order from the two Elves, there was Abram Gespon and a very old woman whose name Zach had forgotten; with the death of Goron Revel, she was now the new third—but, really, second—in command of the People of Virtue.

Continuing on from him were High-Lord Kolorn Besh and Mr. Oren—now known as High-Lord Alex Oren, a title only granted to the first and second-in-command of the Lords of Justice. Supposedly, during the time that Zach was away, Mr. Oren had challenged—and defeated—his superior in a duel to the death.

The fact that he'd won wasn't surprising, though. It was the fact that he'd even had one at all that surprised Zach. That wasn't a very "Mr. Oren" thing to do, though he was sure the man had his reasons.

Way too much shit happened while I was away, he thought.

A lot of things, apparently. Having only just returned to Galterra a day ago, he'd spent almost the entirety of the past twenty-four hours getting caught up on things in Giant's Fall, where he'd spent the night at the top of a skyscraper after having dinner with Vim. He couldn't lie: it did feel kind of amazing to be so important. Zach was basically a hero of the highest order to the people there, and he could actually feel the love they felt for him as they roared his name and even launched a parade in his honor, crying out to him on the streets.

Well, I did save Vim, he thought, and he's like a God to them.

At any rate, he'd learned that Shadowfall Coast was now once again at peace, as Kal had somehow managed to negotiate an end to the hostilities by getting all the guilds to agree not to take possession of anyone's home and to front the cost of rebuilding all the damage that had been done to their city. In exchange, the resistance promised not to commit any overt acts of violence when other races inevitably began to appear in the coming months and years.

But that wasn't the only thing that happened, either. Apparently, Vim Alazar was caught up in some kind of assassination scandal. This, Zach thought, had been hilarious. Oh, he'd laughed and laughed as he watched Vim seething and coping about what the non-Giant's Fall media networks were saying about him.

I'm beginning to sound too much like Jimmy, he realized.

Also in the room with them was Fiona Darkmae and her second, third, and fourth members, and after that was the guild-leader of the Defenders of Peace with his top three. Unsurprisingly, no one from the Guild of Gentlemen was present in this meeting; no, they had all been driven back to Tomb of Fire and isolated there. Thankfully, despite the angry demands from bloodthirsty protesters in Giant's Fall, neither Vim nor any of the other guild-leaders had any lingering appetite for another conventional war.

"Good of you to finally show up," Abram said to him, his tone filled with obvious mockery. Zach could see the anger burning in his eyes. Unsurprisingly, the man was pissed. They were all mad at him, actually—everyone but Fylwen and Kalana. The Tyson thing had apparently turned out to be an even bigger deal than Zach had expected: like way bigger. Zach had been stunned to learn that the two weeks they'd spent in the hallway had almost caused a war, with accusations flying between Abram and Vim that Vim had "kidnapped" their "guild-leader."

It was all just so exhausting, and Zach was really not in the mood for fancy political talk and all the bullshit, so Zach actually skipped all the preamble, all the introductions, and just outright said, "Mr. Oren, how come you fought a duel?"

Kalana, who had been taking a sip of water, snorted and coughed it up. Her mother's eyes widened. Mr. Oren's eyes went even wider, and his guild-leader huffed. Even Abram Gespon seemed to lose his composure.

I think I just breached some kind of etiquette. Whoops.

"Sir Calador," Mr. Oren said, his tone outraged. "That is not an appropriate thing to ask me."

"Zach," Kalana whispered. "You can't just—"

"Actually, I'd like to know too," Vim said, reminding Zach why he was starting to really like the guy. He was the only one of them who behaved like a real Gods-be-damned person. With everyone else, there was always some "act." Even Kalana and her mom behaved like different people when doing politics. But not Vim. Vim was always himself.

I wish Kal didn't hate him so much.

"Lord Alazar," High-Lord Besh said. "I don't know what's gotten into you, but such an incredibly inappropriate question is far outside the bounds of—"

"I'm just curious," Vim said, interrupting him. He leaned forward. And it was here that Zach realized he wasn't just backing Zach up for the sake of doing so, but based on the glint in Vim's eyes, there seemed to be some kind of ulterior motive—one that now presented itself, clear as day, as he continued to speak.

"I mean…all of you were more than happy to expose me for my teency-weency misdeeds, plastering me all over the fucking news!" He shrugged, and he did so in a slow, exaggerated, but most certainly, angry, way. "Now, I'm sure the rumors aren't true—positive of it, in fact. But…Gods, it sure would be a very unfortunate thing if we were to discover that the noble, dignified, and beloved Lord Carmin Penscot was actually secretly molesting children as young as five years old." Vim tsked. "I'm with my lieutenant on this one. I'd sure like to hear Lord Oren's explanation. I'd hate to think he's part of some cover-up to protect a pedophile."

"That's enough," High-Lord Besh said.

"Is it enough? Was it enough when you and booty-woman exposed me?"

"Do not call my mom booty-woman!" Kalana roared, causing her own mother to pat her hand to calm her down. Then, Kalana, putting Zach on the spot, gave him a look. And it was one of those looks.

Ah, shit.

He coughed into his hand and quickly muttered, "Don't do that, Vim."

"Sorry."

The fact that everyone just dropped it was truly incredible. It just went to show that Vim's personality was so well known and, begrudgingly, accepted, that he was able to get away with things no one else could. In fact, his conduct was so widely known that not even Queen Vayra seemed capable of caring enough to become angry, and she literally killed people in the most horrible of ways for disrespecting her a tenth as much as Vim just had.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

The only person here who Vim can actually provoke is Kal, Zach thought. She's the only one who cares how much of an asshole he is. Everyone else just knows it and probably accepted it a long time ago.

Taking a sip of her wine, Fiona Darkmae laughed. "I see we're off to a wonderful start."

Abram did not seem to appreciate the quip. He was staring daggers at the woman. Vim had actually told him in private that Abram desired to conquer her region someday and force her to be his wife. Zach found the idea repugnant. He would definitely intervene if Abram tried something like that.

But for the moment, he merely sat relaxed in his chair and waited for them to get to the point. Everyone knew why this "emergency" meeting had been called. And it was all because of Tyson Revel. Boy, he'd really stirred the pot. And as if sensing Zach's eagerness to begin, Abram took his hateful glare off Fiona and set it upon Zach, instead.

"Where is he?" Abram asked. "Where have you taken our guild-leader?"

"You only want to know so you can kill him," Zach replied.

At this, Abram folded his hands across the fancy tablecloth and said, "My, that's a stunningly bold accusation, Sir Calador. Is it really in the nature of the Royal Roses to make such audacious claims without evidence?"

"I don't really need evidence, because everyone here knows it's true, and it's dumb to pretend it isn't."

Once again, Vim had his back. "Yeah, I don't know why we have to waste so much time on bullshit, Abe. We all know you're the real leader of the People of Virtue." Just as Zach began to grin, Vim then turned to him and said, "Zach, just give him the little shit so he can kill him and we can move beyond this. I've been hearing about this Tyson situation for weeks now. I'm tired of it."

Zach, outraged, opened his mouth to rebuke his own guild-leader, but he stopped as Abram Gespon angrily denounced Vim's accusation. "What vile, vicious lies, Sir Alazar! We are allies—the best of friends, your guild and mine. How could you accuse me of such a scandelous, immoral thing as plotting to kill my own—"

"Abe, enough," Vim said, sitting up straighter and folding his own hands on the table. "Why are we playing games here? This is a private meeting. If you're not going to be honest about your intentions, then why should we?"

There was a brief, awkward moment of silence, and then Abram Gespon sighed. "Fine. Let's drop the act, then. Yes, we're going to kill him. But it will be quick and easy. We'll say he was poisoned."

"Okay then." Vim, tapping Zach on his shoulder, said, "Just give him his guild-leader back so we can get out of here."

Without even pausing to consider, Zach shook his head. "No way. Tyson's my friend now."

Of all things, Sir Gespon the "Virtuous" actually tilted back his head and barked out a laugh. "Oh, that's rich! Tyson? Having friends? Boy, Tyson doesn't have any friends. He's a useless oaf who wasn't even loved by his own mother. All right, Sir Calador. I see where this is going. Name your price."

And as though Zach was part of some game he hadn't realized or agreed to be playing, Vim sighed and said, "I suppose we can hand him over for an increased payment on all exports coming out of—"

"Wait, wait, time out," Zach said, interrupting Vim. "I'm not doing a, uh, a 'negotiating thing' here. I'm not giving you Tyson. No matter what you offer."

Now, both Vim and Abram looked confused. "Why not?" they both asked in unison.

Zach, wondering if each of them had just suffered a stroke, said, "I just told you. He's my friend now."

Vim blinked. "Wait, for real?"

"Yes."

"You mean that wasn't just a…you know?"

"It wasn't. He's my friend."

Kalana nodded. "And even if he wasn't, I'm not okay with any more assassinations."

"This doesn't involve you," Abram said.

"Don't care."

Fylwen cleared her throat. "Sir Revel the Virtuous has been granted asylum on Elendroth and in the Whispery Woods. I'm afraid I cannot abide your attempts to have him slaughtered."

This only seemed to further confuse Vim and Abram. Thus, sensing this was going nowhere, Zach decided to just be straight with them. He knew they weren't going to like this. Gods, he sure did. But he was frustrated, tired, and he didn't want to be sitting here all day in some bullshit meeting. And so, to hurry things along, he told them the actual truth.

"Okay, here's what happened," he began. "So uh, I took in Tyson just like you both wanted, and it turns out he really likes being an adventurer. So…okay, this next part is going to cause some of you to be upset. But basically, he claims he's quit the People of Virtue and has joined the Explorers Brigade. He no longer responds to any guild leader other than Zephyr Vextran."

"…what?" Abram asked, his jaw falling open.

To say that Zach's explanation caused a stir would be a critical understatement. The explosion of disbelief from Mr. Oren, High-Lord Besh, Abram, Fiona, even Vim—it was on another level. All of them began to shout at him as though he had committed some unfathomable sin. The outrage was so intense that it defied belief. Honestly, they were all taking it way out of proportion.

"…cannot allow something like this to happen!" Mr. Oren shouted. "Do you even understand the ramifications of what you've done?"

"I did nothing," Zach said. "Weren't you listening? He made this choice."

"While under your care!" Abram scolded.

For nearly ten minutes, they continued to berate him, and no matter how hard Zach tried to explain away what'd happened, they only seemed to grow more and more upset. But amid all of this, an idea popped into his head: one that he realized he'd been missing all along. One he honestly believed to be a stroke of genius. And with it, a rush of energy raced through him as he became more and more confident in this bold, but extremely fun idea.

If I'm going to get what I want, I need to play their game, he thought.

The realization struck him with the force of one of Fluffles' strongest lightning bolts. Of course he was getting nowhere with these people. Because he wasn't dealing with them the way they needed to be dealt with. And he knew better than this, too. He'd seen enough of how they operated now to understand that there was only one way to get what you wanted in the world of guild politics, and it wasn't through begging or decency.

Of course…

"Okay, okay!" he shouted. "Let me speak, please!" At once, they quieted. And then, at a very soft whisper, he leaned over in Vim's ear and whispered, "Support what I'm about to do at any cost." Before Vim could reply, he added, "I will owe you a favor. And I will make good on it." Following those words, the objection fell away from Vim's face, and he nodded curtly to Zach.

"You're working an angle, aren't you?" Vim whispered.

Zach nodded. "Yup."

"I knew it! No wonder you're acting crazy. All right, I'll back you up, Zach."

"Thanks."

Now, Zach sat back up straight, folded his hands on the desk just like they did, and he spoke to them with a calm, relaxed, but assertive tone.

"Sir Gespon the Virtuous," he began. "Forgive my earlier rudeness. I'm young and still learning the ways of the world."

Abram grunted in something that almost sounded like approval. "All is well, Sir Calador. So, do you have something to say?"

He nodded. "I do, Sir Gespon the Virtuous." Zach inhaled, then slowly released the breath, continuing to project a calm sort of assertiveness. "I've decided that I need to be honest with all of you. And so, with the blessing of Sir Alazar, I will share a Royal Roses' guild secret, one that concerns Sir Revel the Virtuous, but one that even you do not know, Sir Gespon the Virtuous."

At this, the man leaned forward slightly, clearly intrigued. "Go on."

"Everything I've told you so far has been the truth," Zach continued. "But I have withheld a critical part of it, and that is why my actions must seem very unusual to you."

"To say the least," Abram replied. He even shook his head. "All this talk of 'friendship' and whatnot. I figured there was something more going on. Well, let's hear it."

"Very well." Zach purposefully held off on speaking to create a bit of suspense. And then, he said, "The real truth is that, unbeknownst to all but the adventurers and the Royal Roses, Sir Revel the Virtuous has a very, very special adventuring ability: an ability that is useless in war and combat, but so incredibly powerful in the world of adventuring that it has the potential to generate revenue for my guild on a level previously thought impossible. With training and guidance, the adventurers believe we can use Sir Revel the Virtuous to take down the rarest and most difficult-to-kill bosses in all of Galterra, reaping in millions—no, billions of gold in loot and treasure. I had hoped to conceal this fact, but since I've been driven into a corner, I suppose I have no choice but to come clean."

As he spoke, Vim's face lit up with pure delight, Abram's eyes filled with a calculating sort of greed, and even Mr. Oren began stirring in his seat before whispering back and forth with his guild-leader.

Vim, for his part, also began quietly whispering, first to Haisel Ragora and then to Zach. He sounded pleased: beyond pleased, even. "I knew that whole thing about being his friend was bullshit. Nice one, Zach! So, this was the angle you were working on since the start."

"Yup," Zach whispered back, grinning. "As soon as I saw that ability of his, I knew we had to keep him alive."

"Hmm, but it's a shame you were pushed into revealing it this way. If you had confided in me sooner, we could have faked his death. Just how powerful is this ability?"

Zach spoke truthfully when he said, "The other adventurers are claiming it's the greatest adventuring passive they've ever seen in any of their lives. But it's useless unless we can teach him how to—"

"Enough whispering!" Abram demanded, looking flustered. "He is our guild-leader, and if anyone has a right to know this, it's me!"

Vim, now positively beaming, said, "My lieutenant and I were just discussing how the ability is proclaimed—by the adventurers themselves, mind you—to be the most-powerful adventuring ability they've ever encountered."

Abram looked so perplexed. He even scratched his head. "And this is Tyson we're talking about?"

Though he was filled with disbelief, all of it turned to surprise as Fylwen spoke up and said, "It's true. I've seen this ability for myself. It's called 'ROAR OF THE HERO GOD' in all capital letters."

I forgot she saw that.

Nevertheless, it worked to Zach's benefit as she began to describe, in detail, a precise word-for-word explanation of what the ability did. And Abram Gespon, the man who was known as being the calmest, most collected, and most skilled negotiator in all of Galterra, actually stood up from his seat in the middle of her recounting, doing so with such speed that his chair made a loud scratching sound on the flooring.

"H-he had something like this in him?" Abram shouted in plain disbelief. "All this time?"

"He did," Fylwen replied. "And I myself witnessed the man's indifference. He had no idea the magnitude of the gift his father's blood has given to him. He simply did not know the value in this ability."

"Well…" Abram turned to his third-in-command, and the two briefly whispered before nodding. Then, he said, "Well, we need to monetize it."

Zach concealed his grin. Already, the conversation was turning from how to kill the guy to how to use him. And though neither was good, it was still a whole lot better than where he'd started off. Still, there were some unfortunate side effects, as Vim and Fylwen weren't playing the same game that Zach himself was playing—and he was fairly confident this was the case, too.

Despite how he may be acting, Zach's only desire was to save Tyson's life. That was all he cared about. Nothing more. But Vim, clearly, believed that Zach was playing some kind of political game, like he was—one in which Giant's Fall would be enriched by Tyson's gift. And Fylwen, who earlier had claimed that she'd granted the man asylum…she'd likely been playing the same game all along.

And so now, as Abram began to openly discuss how he intended to use "his nephew's gift," Vim suddenly slammed both his palms down on the table, becoming viciously angry so fast that it surprised Zach. Especially since it came out of nowhere and appeared genuine and not part of some ploy.

"Now hold on a Gods-be-damned second!" he half-shouted, half-growled, pointing his finger at Abram. "Sir Revel the Virtuous belongs to us."

"You dare!" the woman who was third-in-command replied. "That is our guild-leader."

"Who you were going to kill."

"And that is none of your concern."

"We are the ones who sheltered and protected Sir Revel, and we are the ones who deserve the right to monetize his ability."

"Utter nonsense!" Fylwen shouted, and her anger seemed genuine, too. "I am the one who has granted him asylum. Currently, at this very moment, he is on Elendroth with my Elves—of his own volition, mind you. He is therefore my subject, and mine alone. The man has chosen to live with the Elves, and I for one shall honor his decision."

At this, Vim and the queen entered into something of a stare-off as the situation began spiraling out of control. Zach, feeling suddenly exhausted, realized that he had unleashed a level of greed so great it nearly rivaled his own.

Still, it was the natural cost of saving his life. Because, as of right now, at least, there appeared to be no further desire to slay Tyson. No, not when they realized how much value he actually had. But more than that, this entire ordeal was making Zach begin to realize that there was almost no one left in this world who understood him as a person. Everyone he knew now had misconceptions about him.

The adventurers, for example, had become convinced that he was merely masquerading as a political guild member while secretly trying to stick it to them, and the political guild members believed he had truly become one of them and was exploiting the adventurers. Only Mr. Oren and Kalana knew his heart. No one else did. Not even Jimmy.

Maybe Fylwen, too, he thought. But not to the same extent.

Zach was taken from his thoughts as Vim seemed to become so angry that it was a surprise steam wasn't coming out of his ears.

"Let me remind you that you gave him to us!" Vim practically screamed. "And there were no conditions. You essentially sold him to us. We own him now."

"Nonsense! I loaned him to you to help him learn the ways of—"

Kalana, who had been silent until now, shouted over all of them. "People can not be bought and sold!" At once, all fell silent, as she was on her feet, staring angrily at all of them, including her own mother. "I can't believe you guys are, umm, talking about a real person like this. What's wrong with you all? This is a person you're talking about, not a thing."

Rather than reply to a word she said, Vim just sent an annoyed look to the queen. "Fylwen?"

The queen nodded. Then she looked at Kalana. "Daughter, sit down and be silent."

Kalana's eyes darkened. Zach could tell she was angry. But nevertheless, she obliged, and then the fighting resumed. Haisel got involved, and so did the lower, but still high-ranking members of the various guilds. Zach had unleashed some kind of earthquake without fully intending to do so.

And now, growing tired of it all, he decided to unleash a second one just to stop the first. He waited patiently for there to be a brief pause in the intensely loud negotiations, and then, very quickly, he shot in, "Oh, and I forgot to mention, I spawned a floating island in the sky."

Every head turned his way.

Whelp, that did the trick.