Overpowered Wizard

Lord Zarian and Princess Bianca stepped out from the shadows of an alley as the setting suns reached the end of their arc. The shadows were especially dark around the pair with the shade turning deeper and the light phasing out to create more darkness.

The effect was ghoulish, haunting, and eerily enchanting. Both Zarian and Bianca looked like the most magical beings who walked out of the darkest pages of fabled myth, at least compared to everyone else.

The crowd of striders stirring up trouble against a pair of merchant paladins quieted down. Already on the scene was a unit of guild members in the middle.

The teenage boys and girls were holding back from opening a can of whoop ass on the belligerent striders. With the arrival of the light-dark duo, the young ones locked up, like professionals awaiting orders. Everyone else shivered with nervousness.

Zarian strode forward with Bianca close behind him until she placed her hand on his shoulder.

He paused and glanced back. After reading her expression, he took a step aside. He smirked as Bianca sauntered forward with a spicy stride.

“What is the matter?” Bianca asked, coming to a stop in the middle of the commotion.

“Well, milady princess, the matter we are discussing is about how we good adventurers are offering our services to help these feather-suckers leave the premises of your wonderful village before they try to eradicate everyone again,” a male strider said at the front, leading a rabble of harassers and hecklers.

“We are not a part of the Brothers of Original Good. We don’t support the current bishop regime in all of their policies, especially with who they promote as inquisitors. We are a more open chapter of paladins, and we’ve been trying to explain this for days!” the paladin woman shouted, looking nervously at the Dark Lord.

“Shut your feather-sucking mouth! Don’t think of yourself as anything good compared to our beautiful and intelligent princess! All we’re doing here is trying to make the village a safer place.” The leader of the hecklers smiled crookedly.

Bianca didn’t smile.

She was much taller compared to the humans of this world. It was easy for her to look down upon the heckler leader. He and his companions shrank back as she watched them like a hawk for quite a while.

“Do you know why I follow the Dark Lord, pendejo?” Bianca asked.

“Pen day hole?” The leader said nervously. “Excuse me, milady princess, but I don’t speak the tongue from the World of Swamps and Princesses. I’d love to learn, if you have a free evening to teach me over some beer.”

“Silence your foolishness, pendejo. Answer my question.”

Bianca applied no magical pressure. Her voice was even and clear. But as she looked dead into the leader’s face, her eyes shone with an intense light, like the twin suns before they set.

“Most folks say the Dark Lord, um, has a spell cast over you,” the leader said, finding himself singled out as his companions backed away slowly.

Bianca took a single step forward, lording her height even more over the nervous strider. “No, it’s because it’s very clear with him when he will kill and when he will help.”

She took another step forward, closing the gap menacingly. “It is gruesome when he kills. Many of his enemies are torn apart and fed to his cloak. Sometimes they are feasted upon while they are still alive. Yet, I have not seen him kill anyone who doesn’t deserve it.”

“Uh, well, I see,” the man replied dumbly.

Bianca’s eyes shone even brighter, like the judgment of the heavens was shining their wrathful light upon the leader of the heckling and harassment. But the strider couldn’t flee while struck dumb by Bianca’s intense beauty and charm.

The man was in the early Level 40s, so the system suppression on Bianca was much weaker in this case, which allowed her to be more of her powerful self. She could, however, negate the system suppression altogether. That would be dangerous for everyone in the area, though.

Both Zarian and Bianca were at a level with enough stats and abilities that made them walking weapons of mass destruction, Zarian especially. So the system suppression, even while around people between the Level 30s and 50s, was necessary.

The leader of the bothersome strider mob struggled to speak his case, fumbling over his words. Bianca shook her head slowly until he fell silent.

“You and your friends do not see.” Bianca strolled around the petrified man. “Look. That is the Dark Lord. See how he is standing there. Do you see him harming these two paladins?”

“He, um, isn’t.”

Bianca gripped the man by both shoulders, her long black nails stabbing into his leather pauldrons with ease. It was as if his armor was made of butter, while each of her nails were sharpened knives. She stopped short of drawing blood as she leaned down from behind him, her mouth close to his ear.

“If he’s not turning his killer attention to these paladins, then what makes you think you can, pendejo? This makes me think you just want to bother these people for your own pleasure. This makes me feel I must step in and deliver some free good, because you are in the wrong. And if I judge you to be wrong with all my heart, I will not hold back.”

Bianca let her free good +5 blast out from her body with some oomph. A powerful and wrathful wave of moral force knocked the mob of troublesome striders off their feet.

The man Bianca held onto from behind cried in fear as Bianca’s free good steamrolled over him. Even the paladin pair lost their footing and stumbled back, their faces going white with fear. Their traditional good alignment was no match compared to Bianca’s free good.

The only ones left unaffected were the guild members and the Dark Lord, of course.

Then, just as soon as it appeared, Bianca’s free good +5 receded back into her. She let go of the heckler leader, like dropping a dirty towel, and strode past the distraught man to return to Zarian’s side.

Zarian enjoyed Bianca’s approach to this issue because it was happening in one of the busier market squares. Everybody there was watching, and Zarian liked to put on a show, so he very much appreciated Bianca warming up the crowd for him.

“You heard Princess Bianca. I kill people when it’s necessary. And I do so in gruesome ways,” Zarian said. “But if you see paladins still in the village, then they are fine to be here.”

Zarian looked around slowly as his cloak fluttered about in strange and eerie ways. “I like to deal with problems case by case instead of judging an entire people for the choices of the few. Call me evil all you want, but I think I’m the most reasonable and pragmatic guy around … sometimes.”

“Thank you, milord,” the male paladin said, for himself and his female partner.

Zarian nodded before glancing across the market place and spotting Bernard, the Battle Priest. The old man had remained in the village despite the hostile political climate.

Bernard grimaced when his eyes met with Zarian’s. Then the old priest lightened up and nodded in appreciation.

Zarian chuckled. “I don’t want to come out and police you troublemakers. So please listen to my guild members who are very well trained. Or Princess Bianca would show you what will happen when she judges you as a bad person worthy of her free good power.”

Zarian turned to the kiddos. “Keep up the good work.”

“As always, milord. But when will the cafe open up again?” asked a boy from the guild.

“We will see about that soon, Obert. There will be big news in a few days. Later, gators.” Zarian wrapped his arm around Bianca’s waist, spun her into a small dance, and then waltzed through the void to reach the central square.

Zarian and Bianca looked up at the temple devoted to Shadowfell as crowds of people moved back and forth around the large square surrounding the base of the central tower. A combination of Zarian’s and Bianca’s abilities rendered them mostly invisible and made people want to step around them in avoidance.

“Are you sure we don’t have more to do?” Bianca asked, a hint of nervousness entering her voice.

Zarian shook his head. They’d checked on various spots of interests, positive and negative. The Dragon Blood Cloud Flowers were secured. The guild member units were all fine except for the lack of Reiki’s chocolate and coffee.

They’d checked on skeleton units manning the walls or posted on standby. Zarian had sought the skeletons that could most likely become experts and saw none currently.

Loner wasn’t in the village. He was out on an adventure to power level a batch of skeletons in some decent hunting grounds to the north west. Out of all skeletons, Loner should be capable of becoming an expert.

Zarian would see once they linked up before the trip back to Grimrock.

“If you don’t want to do it now, we can save it in the bank. You get to go first as your gift. But I would appreciate it if you keep that to yourself for now,” Zarian said.

A few passing pedestrians turned toward the source of Zarian’s voice. They felt uncomfortable while unable to see Zarian and Bianca. They hurried away.

Bianca let out a long and weary sigh. She shook her head at him. “If this works, if Shadowfell can communicate with my family, then I shouldn’t wait. I know Gilbert has some people he wants to contact. And the others would appreciate the offer.”

Bianca reached out and gripped the cuff of Zarian’s shirt sleeve. “Let me pay the price, please. Not you.”

Zarian placed his other hand on Bianca’s. “You don’t have to.”

“I need to, Zarian. You’ve already done more than I can appreciate. You’ve done way too much for me, really.” Bianca shuddered. “You killed yourself and destroyed universe after universe because of me. You hurt yourself because of me.”

“I did it to help a friend,” Zarian murmured, remembering his time fighting a useless battle against his own darkness for countless years.

Most of the details were murky now. But he remembered how he felt as everything kept going wrong no matter how much he tried.

He remembered the moments when he nearly let his darkness win. He still carried the memories of his refusal to lose and what that had also cost him.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“Zarian, you’re hurting me,” Bianca said.

He jerked back, taking his hands off her. His body was tense, and so was his parasite. He’d held her hand too hard by mistake.

Para came around with little tendrils from the cloak and rubbed over Bianca’s hand. Para also rubbed over Zarian’s, a useless gesture.

The gauntlets were in the way, but the sentiment was appreciated. Zarian shifted his mindframe and placed more of his attention on the current moment. He could multitask with his thoughts later. Things were tense right now.

“Sorry,” Zarian said.

Bianca shook her head. “I’m sorry. I lost myself to traditional good. I said things I shouldn’t have.”

“You could’ve told me about your family and stuff. I would’ve listened.”

“Maybe I should’ve. But I thought I didn’t want to burden you. Or the others. I didn’t even share that much with the girls. They were moving on, so I thought I should, too. Then it all blew up.”

Zarian and Bianca stood side by side for a while. Neither of them took a step toward the temple devoted to Shadowfell.

Eventually, Zarian thought of the night appointment waiting for him and offered his arm to Bianca. She took it gracefully, and he escorted her into his wife’s temple.

Each temple at one of the four corners of the central square had a unique design and atmosphere.

Serveserf’s temple was bare, plain, and mainly a clean place for people to donate what they could give while others could take what they needed. There weren’t many needs in the village, but the biggest donation drive surrounded children’s toys for gardener orphans. A few paladins liked to visit this place the most.

Hisscreep’s temple had moist soil set across its floor. There was underbrush, fungi, and the smells of a wild, dark forest. Little creepers crawled around the wild floor, keeping the atmosphere an authentic one for the bug god.

The few evil humans that came through the village would stop by to pay their respects to Hisscreep or make a request from one of the oldest surviving Evil Gods. Hisscreep, like Serveserf, wasn’t that strong. But he was favored over other Evil Gods for his protection against evil critters out in the wilds.

Then there was Lovewar’s temple, which was more gaudy and attractive, with weapons on display and a palpable aura that was confident and alluring. Many visitors and villagers would come through to pray at her temple, hoping to receive favor from the goddess.

Many gardeners prayed for her to end the civil war or have their side of the conflict come out victorious. Many of the guild members liked to spend some time at the temple, especially the ones who had started out as acolytes.

Then there was the temple for Shadowfell. Its aesthetics fit her theme. It had a sharply peaked roof. There was an atmosphere of heavy somber and dread in the air. The brassieres were lit with shadowy flames.

Across the barren and austere space inside, there was a goblet placed on a stone block. Inside that goblet was one of the most feared substances across the Infinita Star System, Shadowfell Tears. The dark ichor bubbled above the brim and spilled over the edges, making a small mess that wouldn’t spread much further.

There was one person already inside before Zarian and Bianca entered. That one person was the only person in the entire village who had consumed the Shadowfell Tears and came out stronger.

“Amabel,” Zarian called. “Nice to see you again. We didn’t get to talk much over breakfast today.”

Amabel was kneeling and praying in front of the goblet filled with Shadowfell Tears. Once she finished, she stood smoothly and turned to smile.

The young, green-eyed, and freckled-faced girl looked a little more mature now. Especially when she wore the dark, gothic robes of a Shadowfell Acolyte.

Zarian was still a little hazy on how Amabel had transitioned from being a Lovewar Acolyte to being a Shadowfell Acolyte. But since the two goddesses of opposing alignments were still friends, somehow, the betrayal from good to evil, or free good to free evil in Amabel’s case, hadn’t blown out of proportion.

Most importantly, Amabel was one of the few who embraced the free evil sub alignment, had the highest levels among the youngsters at Level 55, and was also sporting an epic class called Shadow Saboteur.

To be the village’s only Shadowfell Acolyte meant she truly believed in the Evil Goddess and was freely giving her devotion. Based on the results, things were working out well enough for Amabel.

Yes, Zarian was well aware that certain parts of prior conversations would get fed to his divine wife because of Amabel. But that wasn’t too big of a deal.

Hannah had laid decent enough wards that should make it harder for Zarian’s little sister and the gods to pry into their business inside the central tower. Zarian imagined Empress Ruvaria being there made things even harder for the gods.

Amabel was their biggest leak, but a controllable one who remained well within expectations.

Better yet, the Shadow Saboteur had shown some great discernment on what she’d gossipped over with her patron goddess. Most of it was about Zarian and the mundane stuff he did, which was gravely boring for the spectral spider assigned to watching Amabel.

Zarian appreciated the little guy’s sacrifice, since it was sometimes better to give away crumbs to keep the real treats under cover until the time was right.

“Lord Zarian, Princess Bianca, the dear goddess has been expecting you on this day, and you’ve arrived just as predicted in her nightmares,” Amabel said, smiling.

Zarian reached over with his free hand and rubbed it over Amabel’s head. “Must I remind you each time you try to act all edgy that you are still a cute little brat?”

Amabel let out a huff, breaking her shadowy character. She shifted away from Zarian’s hand and looked at him crossly.

“I am a Shadowfell Acolyte, and one who has broken a piece of Lovewar’s heart to earn this right. I can’t be looked at as a mere girl anymore by you, milord.”

“Oh, damn, we have a real bad ass heartbreaker over here. Now I’m really feeling the edge.”

Amabel tried to keep from getting flustered. She half succeeded. “I am a grown woman who is blessed to carry the burden of tragedy and much more. Please have some respect for that since I alone was invited to drink from her tears and grow stronger instead of being corrupted.”

“Hm, yeah, I suppose you have a point. Have you told Shadowfell some of our plans?”

Amabel lowered her head, her face turning red. “Only the more obvious points. Would you like me to serve as a divine conduit? Please say yes.”

Zarian was going to say no, but Amabel rushed forward and practically crashed into him.

“Please, Lord Zarian. It would be an honor to be a conduit, and only I can do it,” Amabel pleaded.

Zarian sighed. “Well, if it’s you, I guess I’ll stay more focused on business. Are you okay with this, Bianca?”

“Si.”

“Yes! Thank you!” Amabel retreated and prepared herself to become a human flesh suit for an Evil Goddess.

Zarian could’ve gone with using the crystal ball, but the request felt like it would have more weight if done personally. He hadn’t expected this type of personal outcome, but he imagined Amabel being chosen by Shadowfell meant the girl had a need for theatrics, just like his wife.

Zarian nearly had a cursed thought of him and Luciana having a child.

He banished it quickly.

He watched as the shadowy flames flickered suddenly. Amabel knelt down, took the goblet by both hands, and sipped from its dark and bubbling surface. Then she placed it down and rose as Zarian’s wife.

Luciana smiled through Amabel’s face. She spoke with a voice that was both somber and magnetic, like an enchanting song about the joys of death.

“It’s quite interesting how the Star System allows us to commune in different ways. Certain cultures in various worlds have unique approaches to communicating with us major gods.”

“I don’t really care, but I imagine you’re going to tell me anyway.”

“Let me have my moments, husband. Now, in some worlds, they believe they must sacrifice their elderly or their children and speak to their gods through the intestines of their dead relatives. In some other worlds, they believe the gods could only be spoken to by climbing the peaks of the highest mountains for their level, and it must be a mountain that is heavily occupied by monsters or painful challenges, just to make the conversation with their gods more worthwhile.”

“I bet some of those tragic and painful direct messages to your goddess box have you feeling great in all your terrible ways, don’t they, Luciana?” Zarian said.

Luciana chuckled darkly. “It does leave one quite thrilled once you decide to lean further into the lunacy of it all.”

Zarian tried not to smile. “Speaking of lunacy, your new corrupted toys are interesting. And your tears are enhanced to where a priest in the Level 50s can’t cleanse it. That’s going to cause a lot of trouble for people, you loon.”

“Luciana the Loon? Mm, I enjoy this pet name. Thank you. As for the spot of trouble, that’s only for the would-be heroes who are strong enough.”

Luciana sighed dreamily. “I still remain under a pact imposed upon me by Lovewar, which has grown more complex as of late. I cannot disclose what that pact entails, since it is a secret Lovewar would prefer kept between us. Unless you order me to reveal the details as your slave wife, husband, then your will is my command.”

Luciana used Amabel’s hand to press against her chest. She gave Zarian flirty looks that were laughable.

He tried not to laugh. He didn’t want them to know how silly they looked, especially Amabel. The girl took the edge lady stuff seriously.

“Once again, Shadowfell, I will provide you with no orders under those ridiculous conditions. You are not my slave. And you are only a wife under unfair conditions that will be dealt with in the future,” Zarian said firmly. “We are here to make a request. And to provide our services as a trade.”

“It’s me that wants to offer my services,” Bianca said. “Please don’t include Zarian. He’s done enough.”

Zarian frowned, but he didn’t interject. If Bianca felt she needed to make a few sacrifices instead of him, who was he to stop her? Well, he would stop her if those sacrifices were too big.

Oh, that’s a little hypocritical of me. Zarian struggled a little with that thought. He moved on quickly.

“Princess Bianca Garcia, a young woman who sheds her tears for the sake of joy and to comfort others. You are my opposite in ways that I find interesting,” Luciana said.

“I don’t know if I can say the same about the interesting part,” Bianca said. “I don’t like how your tears are for corruption instead of comfort. And your marriage with Zarian is holding him hostage.”

I’m pretty sure it’s the entire universe being held hostage, not me, Zarian thought, keeping his mouth shut.

Luciana chuckled. “I can go on and on about the wonders of my marriage with Zarian, but that’s not your true concern tonight. You wish to contact your family, yes? I can do this for you. I can let them know you are okay and receive their messages in return. But that will cost you one death that you must deliver.”

Zarian and Bianca shared a look.

“Are you sure?” Zarian asked.

“I am,” Bianca said before turning back to Amabel/Luciana.

The Evil Goddess told them, which was unexpected but not surprising for Zarian to hear.

The Prime Archbishop, the holy royal leader of the Stalwart Paladin Kingdom, had to die. Bianca would’ve refused outright if it wasn’t for one other factor. The Prime Archbishop had further plans to seal Zarian away regardless of the costs.

“Many think they can make such plans without the gods knowing as long as they have their little wards to turn away our attention,” Luciana explained smarmily. “In most cases, this is true. For me, however, when those plans involve my husband, I can learn things here and there if they don’t take extra precautions. And even with those extra precautions, I still have my ways.”

Luciana let out a deep and satisfied breath. The air in the entire temple wobbled. The shadowy flames flickered.

Zarian felt the presence of his wife surrounding them, holding them close, bearing the weight of a power that would crush lesser mortals to the floor. Yeah, she was really into her theatrics these days.

“Princess Bianca Garcia, what will you do for the sake of communicating with your family? Because the one you must kill is more than just a grave enemy of my husband. The Prime Archbishop is also a powerful ruler holding the paladin kingdom together. To take his life would cause immense strife. Are you willing to sacrifice the lives of others for your own heart?”

Bianca looked down at her feet.

Zarian sighed. “This is a little too much, Luciana. We’ve already broken one kingdom. And a trip to the Stalwart Paladin Kingdom is pretty far out of our way.”

Luciana chuckled. “You don’t have to go to their kingdom.”

Zarian’s heart rate sped up. “Quit the suspense.”

“Your target will be at Grimrock around the time you’ll get there. No need to rush, they will be entrenched for quite some time. You see, they are short on quality self-sacrificers, so why not a proper crusade to sharpen themselves and grow their ranks before making an even bigger request for some more holy aid.”

“Oh,” Zarian said. “Someone did tell me the paladins were going for Grimrock. Shit. This political stuff is a pain.”

Zarian wondered if the village would be alright after he and the others were gone. How far would others go just to strike at him someway, somehow? The original plans of the paladin terrorists had included bringing sabotage and harm to the villagers and visitors, even at the cost of hurting innocent people.

Things are getting complicated, Zarian thought. Do I have to make an example of an army or something?

Bianca let out a long sigh. “I don’t know if this is out of free good or my selfish desires, but I won’t turn this down. I agree. I will kill the Prime Archbishop.”

For the next hour, Bianca made a list of names and messages for Shadowfell to deliver. Zarian tried to figure out how Shadowfell could contact their old world, but each time he tried, Shadowfell asked him if he wanted her to answer him as the slave wife.

Zarian dropped the matter. By the time they left the temple, Bianca was pretty much done and called it a night. She hugged him and went off on her own to her room or wherever.

Zarian stepped in and out of the void. He stopped in front of a door that wasn’t his. He took a few seconds to straighten out his thoughts, putting aside political strife, Bianca’s assassination job, and his marriage issues.

None of that mattered now as he knocked on Ruvaria’s door.

Her voice reached out softly from the other side. “Come in, Zarian. I’ve been waiting for you.”