So I’ve been here for a bit. And there. All around, really.

  The whole area is much nicer than the last one. At least in general. Sadly, my best friend isn’t wandering around this quarter of the kingdom, swatting everyone who comes after me like flies. Which is just another massive improvement for basically everyone but me.

  Like, there’s towns and cities and infrastructure and everything. In fact, the Joulelands is a nice place to live. Even if you can’t fly. Rather, anyone practically can. Or close enough for most people to be satisfied without a Movement Blessing that grants flight. Apparently, those are rarer than I thought.

  A good thing too since this whole place is an omnidirectional maze of floating islands. It’s nothing like the octagons and squares themselves being elevated like in Fulgora. But with every few miles of land cut off at a sheer cliff, there’s a healthy amount of both supply and demand for electrified ziplines connecting them all to each other.

  You can use one by gripping the yellow-sparking line itself to get automatically pulled along the direction of your pinky. At least if you’re wearing one of the Common gauntlets sold near any of the train stations for $128 FSD. If not, you can expect a similar experience to grabbing a live taser.

  But I don’t need to use one. Or spend that. Not when I can go in a much straighter line, much faster, at will, and in any direction I wish. Although… In terms of weight and looks, one of those gloves on my left hand would actually balance pretty well with the Unique one on my right. Maybe I can just… No. I can come back later and buy up all the layered armor options after it stops counting as negative quest progress.

  Still, this whole thing is just so… Words like ‘punk’ and ‘steam’ come to mind. I don’t know why. But I do like the whole aesthetic of the place. Not quite as entrancing as either of the capitals I disembarked at. But better than Central for sure.

  And the verticality is still there. It’s just less interesting underneath the floating islands. It’s pretty rare for one to actually touch the ground below, but they sometimes do. It’s pretty random. So no one builds anything down there. No dungeons either.

  Or really any reason to venture down the desolate hole underneath this little slice of Heaven. Presumably, some kind of revolution is situated down there. I don’t have anything more substantial to go on than rumors of its existence. But millions of square miles is a lot of space to hide a camp or a compound or whatever they have going on. Or not. I don’t know.

  What I do know is the establishment is lying to the masses. About Fulgora, obviously. But also about Skill and STAT planning of all things. It’s the same bullshit everywhere I look. It wouldn’t be so bad if not for the fact that everyone and their mother follows it like a religion over here. In fact, I’ve been pretending to drink the same kool-aid whenever someone asks. At least after the first guy I talked to. He was clearly horrified, and a little too alarmed at who could’ve heard me badmouthing the Royally Mandated Build.

  Seems like everyone who works for the Kingdom not only swears by it, but takes personal insult at anyone ignoring the ‘advice’. Which I didn’t. In fact, I considered it. I mapped it all out in my head, and concluded that the numbers work out way worse than what I’m already doing. The fact that I took literally no time to decide is wildly besides the point.

  Makes me think… Maybe I should come up with actual slogans. Like rhyming propaganda to subliminally implant the benefits of compounding damage multipliers… Nah, that’s way too much work. Besides, I’m not trying to invent ways to leave paper trails over here. Not that it seems to matter. Every time I linger anywhere for too long, the same thing happens. Someone, a different someone every time, springs a trap. Often several. And often in a group.

  It turns out that a new, powerful lightning swordsman appearing right out of Fulgora with no ties to any faction, is a threat to a lot of people. A perceived one, at least. And only if you call the aristocracy ‘people’. Which I do, if only because not doing that makes it confusing to talk bad about them. Or brag about having freed their tax slaves or whatever the fuck. Not that I need to after word got out about that.

  So some shithead noble or royal or probably a bunch of them, apparently have a goddamned army of mercenaries on retainer. All of whom seem to have been sent out with a single mission. To kill me over and over, and keep me trapped long enough for someone to show up with the authority to ban me from the Surge Kingdom. Or maybe trap me here forever? I’m not too clear on their end-game, except for wanting no part in it.

  But I’m so close to level 14… So very close. It’s just that the other fucking shoe still hasn’t fucking dropped. And if I go into a dungeon for more than one run at a time, I feel like I’m gonna have the Surge King himself waiting for me to teleport out. Could be the second dungeon clear. Or third. Or hundredth.

  Because I know me. If I let myself do just one more, I’ll be doing just one more again the next time. And the next. And as many just-one-mores as it takes to exhaust the loot pool. Or at least find another blueprint. I’m still a little bummed I didn’t get stuff to make diamond armor a few weeks back.

  But how many Diamapedes would I have needed to kill..? And after it took me like a week just to find the one..? Could’ve taken years or even decades of opening cave-presents. While I do have that long, I’m not about to make James wait for however many cycles it takes me to bedazzle myself.

  It’s in telling myself that for the hundredth time this week that I spot them. Those two. The first ones. The only ones that cornered me in Fulgora.

  Dirty Deeds is leaning against a tree. “Greetings, NPC Killer.”

  My eyes widen in incredulity.

  He exchanges a look with the Thunder Chief, resting against the tree’s opposite side. “You think we didn’t hear about that? There’s all sorts of stories flying around the rumor mill. A foul-mouthed flamehair defiling millions of pilgrimages with a loophole. A prophet using her god’s feral nature to rob the very kingdom on its back. The Crimson Bitch… Killer of maxlevels and NPCs alike. The cold-blooded serial killer herself.”

  He seems to pick up on the deep-throated growl that even I didn’t notice I was making until he used it to segue his monologue. “Oh, you know that one? Yeees, the great and powerful Jessie-”

  I shake my head. “Of course I know that one. But why do you? Just because I killed a few blue assholes-”

  “Few!?”

  I do an impression of the weird-ass way he said the same thing. “Yeees…”

  “More than one?!”

  I do feel bad about that first one. “What’s it to you, Dirty Diaper?” I had more than enough time to come up with something better. But fuck it. More to the point, fuck him.

  Thunder Chief unsheathes his bladed guitar. “She knows not what she does.”

  “Oh, don’t I now? Neat of you to say all high and mighty from atop your mound of suffering. And you blame me for getting them on a train right the fuck out of your country?”

  Dirty Deeds chuckles. “Oh no. They’re far from out of the country. Most of them, anyway. A few made it to Central. But more were intercepted on their way there. The ones who didn’t get off in Joulelands before we got to them, at any rate. And now… The bowels of Fulgora are a paradise compared to where they’re going.”

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  “What..?”

  “Oh, you didn’t know? There are holding facilities near every major terminal. No prisons, of course. But the Station guards are more than capable of holding a batch of fugitives until a Royal can spare the time to come put them in real custody. It took some struggling to get some of them off the train, of course.”

  He smirks. “But you know all about that, don’t you? Spearing the incomplicit ones through with a sword was rather inventive. And it was so thoughtful of you to spend those two weeks shipping them all off to us, one handful at a time. Thank you for that, by the way. So much more manageable than if they all ran at once.”

  “But… No, I saved them.”

  “From what? Steady, if slow progress towards becoming true Surge Kingdom residents in good standing? But no more. Admittedly, most will receive a mere slap on the wrist. A decade or two is all it will take to pay for their crimes. Not like the fifteen… Sixteen now, I suppose.”

  I don’t say anything.

  He smirks wider. “Yes, a group with, frankly, more debt to the kingdom than I thought was possible. And you, of course. The Dregs of Fulgora are a necessary dumping ground for all the riffraff. I’m afraid the palace simply isn’t austere enough to hold them all. But sixteen? Sixteen, we can surely accommodate.”

  “Where are they?”

  “We’ll take you to them.”

  Thunder Dick looks at Dirty Balls.

  Said testicle nods back. “He’s right. We won’t. But give it time. Your destination is a foregone conclusion. Before, it was only a rumor. Such unreliable sources of information, rumors. You have no debt, and you still have the money that won you passage here. But you’ve given yourself away, girl. With what you said, there can be no doubt that you-”

  “Have empathy? Thought about it for at least a second?”

  “Actually did it.” At that, he stares at Thunder Chief as though waiting for confirmation of something.

  But I don’t wait for him to get it, since that’s when I remember they’re stalling. “Well, I don’t fuck-”

  [ POWER BLESSING: LIGHTNING BLADE — INTENSITY: 461% ]

  My own sheathed swords burst with a barely-contained four-color thunderstorm. Not having meant to do that, I neglect to resist a smirk of my own. “-ing care.”

  Diaper Boy shakes his head. “You truly are beyond salvation. Even here. Even now.”

  I shrug. “Yeah, well, I guess it’s time I make like a tree and split”

  Finally, the little guy sounds more tired than me. “But you can’t… Trees don’t-”

  I cut the tree in half.

  But not before each of them dodges well away from the slash that I really did think was sudden enough to work.

  I consider which to pursue for a few minutes before immediately turning to the right and walking straight for the little twerp. I sheathe my white sword even while gripping my other one.

  Obligingly, Thunder Chief steps between me and the smaller sleazeball. Which is fine. Even if he’s not as chatty as his diminutive partner, the big guy at least placidly endorsed all that shit.

  Which is why the first word out of my mouth is… “FUCK!!!” Both blades explode with lightning as I draw them, already extending to scissor him right through the chest.

  First, he’s hit in both flanks by a tenfold-boosted dose of electricity. Which doesn’t do much damage since it’s not exactly his weakness.

  Then comes the lava. Which very much is.

  He looks as shocked as I’ve ever seen him. And yeah, that’s a lot of damage. But he shakes himself out of it in short order and gets to work extricating himself from what seems to have mostly amounted to a lot of hot glue.

  Unfortunately, I can’t slice all the way through him since he moved his wide greataxe to only barely fail to intercept my blades before they’d pierced his side.

  Sliding them out of his torso, and across his axe, I repeat myself. “FUCK!!!”

  The resulting intensity multiplier leaves something to be desired. It’s no mystery why. I felt perfectly well how much less hyped I was on that one. So I guess there’s diminishing returns with using ‘fuck’ as a callout more than once in quick succession. At least in public… Didn’t have this issue when it was just me and the monsters. I’ll have to rethink this… Later.

  For now, I immediately flip both blades over in my hands, even as they shrink, and slam them home like I spent all those months practicing. Too bad I’m only just now getting practical use out of it. If these two knew what I was doing, I don’t think I would’ve gotten it off. But they didn’t. And I do.

  Thunder Chief’s torso ERUPTS in a gout of lava and lightning.

  I smirk like Dirty Deeds did earlier.

  So does he.

  I stop smirking.

  Thunder Chode reforms the upper half of his body in pure lightning. He can’t seem to emote like that. But I get the distinct impression that he’s mocking me too.

  So I jump at him in a feint while focusing on a spot just behind the other one. “GO!!!”

  Dirty Deeds simply grips the hammer he started holding at some point. It glows, but not with electricity. Not yellow either. Some sort of sparkly jello the color of raw sewage.

  He just rolls his eyes as he swings it right at where I’m going to be in about a fraction of a second. Give or take.

  In subjective time, I see every part of him doing that. I just can’t do shit about it. Sure, I can deactivate my lightning form. But even 33 Speed can’t get either katana in position for a counter in time. Maybe if I was only holding one… Fuck. I’m just deflecting. The real issue is that I locked myself in place while showing him my back. I thought I’d be too fast as lightning for him to even react.

  I can’t get out of this. Unless… I’m lightning. Who said he can even hit me? He’s probably counting on me deactivating it in a panic before he connects. And besides, what my movement blessing lacks in maneuverability, it more than makes up for in speed.

  I move closer.

  So does the hammer.

  Closer.

  Past him.

  Only then does the little gavel crash into the back-tip of the lightning bolt I’d become. Past tense.

  Because that same instant, I simultaneously fizzle back into a meat balloon, and SLAM into the ground at the same speed I was just going as lightning.

  [ YOU DIED — XP DEBT: 131,072 — RESPAWN DELAY: 8 HOURS ]

  …Fuck. Oookay, so I’m starting to see the limits of my shiny new powers.

  As you tend to in towns, I respawn eight hours later that same instant at the Wiredale spawnpoint.

  The instant after that, I’m already holding my breath. That’s been my standard practice since long before it became muscle memory. It’s only worth mentioning because I’m already surrounded. I don’t know by who, but there’s a lot of them. I can target them all, but… Fuck, should I get Advanced Targeting?

  God damn it, I don’t even need to think about it. I need it, don’t I? That’ll have to be another Skill Point down the drain just to cover for the fact that I don’t know a single fucking thing about who’s trying to gank me right now. Except for one of them…

  [ HERO TARGETED: AZILETH ]

  His name is… Electric. That’s not a metaphor. The seven letters floating above Azileth’s silhouette are literally crackling with lightning. Or… Does it count as literal when it’s a System effect? More to the point, I’ve heard of this. The man in front of me, with only the rising light of a spawnpoint between us, is a True Royal. Probably not very high in the line of succession since the effect is so subtle.

  But it’s there. That’s all that matters. Anyone with that crackle or spark or surge or whatever, has the same thing in common. Authority. They can be overruled by someone higher on the chain. But even the lowest link can… What? Force me into the palace prison that asshole was just gloating about? How? He’d target me and… What? Put me in some kind of invincible System chains? I don’t know. And the prospect of maybe-revenge against those dicks is in no way worth finding out.

  So it’s with a heavy heart that I focus on the opposite side of the spawnpoint from Azileth and whisper a single word. “Go.”

  I don’t know if he managed to target me during that. But he didn’t stop me. Or couldn’t. So I won’t. Not until I get to the other side of the entire damn Joulelands. That’s… What? A hundred thousand miles? More? Probably less, now that I think of it. So I can compensate by shifting directions a couple times on the way. And then disappear into a dungeon? Or two? Or a raid? No, those don’t have loot. Ah, whatever. First things first.

  Gotta lose the fuck out of that guy.