The foul smells of the previous region, of death and decay, of squalor and unwashed bodies, were gone. Now it simply smelled like a well to do city, with the aromas of food drifting around. That detail alone indicated that there were Tier 1s present, presumably slaves or children. As Jonathan looked around, he realized, to his horror, that in many places it was both. Palanquins carried around by slaves that couldn’t have been more than fourteen or fifteen years old, only their System granted stats allowing them to bear the weight. Jonathan’s armor creaked as his fists clenched, but there was nothing that he could do.
“Disgusting bastards,” Eliza spat.
“I agree,” Jonathan said. Had his helmet been off, the burning glare on his face would have been visible. “These people need to die.”
“Not now, though, as much as I want to kill them. We’re underleveled for this place.”
Jonathan nodded. “Let’s fulfill the original objective. Get some information, get out, and level the hell up so we can come back and do what needs to be done.”
With that settled, the duo headed off deeper into the city, trying to find the commercial district. They received a few looks from the locals, but every time, Jonathan had simply flexed his aura and made it clear that he belonged.
It was far more potent than ever before, a roiling storm of danger, potency, and potential that had an almost physical weight. Eliza told him that it was like standing before an abyss, teetering on the precipice of annihilation. Not only that, but that abyss was growing inexorably. One day, it would swallow the world. One day, it would swallow all of existence.
In this manner, there were no challengers or attackers, and by the time Jonathan found a cartographer’s shop, he was starting to almost wish there had been. He had a lot of pent up rage and disgust at the monsters that called this city home, but no real way to release it. Instead, he simply headed in, hoping that the proprietor wasn’t another slaver.
Sitting at the desk, engaged in a bit of mapmaking, sat an older man, peering down at the page. Jonathan initially thought that he was simply low leveled, but as he and Eliza walked to the counter, he realized that the map was extremely detailed. The bit that the cartographer was peering at represented an entire village, with every house rendered at a minute level. It was almost difficult to see for Jonathan, and he had senses a full racial upgrade above everyone else his level.
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“Hello?” Jonathan called out, but there was no response.
The mapmaker kept at his work, nodding to himself every now and again. Realizing that there wasn’t anything he could do, short of grabbing the man by the scruff of his neck, Jonathan instead began to peruse the shop. As with the one in Mire, this shop had a few wares on display, maps of all shapes and sizes. They were incredibly detailed, as befitted the high level of their creator. Entire worlds were rendered in great detail, only visible to those with the sharpest of eyes.
“How do people read these?” Eliza said as she tried to study one of the maps. “My eyes hurt, and I’m close to Tier 5.”
“I would guess some sort of magnifying glass. Those would still work, no matter what level you are. Though, I’m not sure what the point is, given that people at our level just race past everything.”
“The reason is that I enjoy it,” came a voice from behind. At some point, the owner had finished up his work, and was looking directly at Jonathan and Eliza. “There aren’t that many hobbies that an old man, nearly at the limits of the System’s vitality, can do.”
Jonathan frowned. “But there isn’t a level limit anymore. You can go all the way to Tier 11.”
The cartographer barked out a laugh. “That’s a pipe dream for anyone but a circle lord’s chosen. This change wasn’t made for the benefit of us mortals. It was made for the monsters that squat at the top of the realm.”
“I see.” Jonathan raised an eyebrow. “So you think it’s impossible to rise beyond what fate has decided?”
“Impossible? I simply can’t be bothered. I’ve seen a lot of things in Hell, things that make me wonder if it’s even worth living.” The cartographer sighed deeply. “What would be the point, even if I could extend my lifespan? Only the circle lords are immortal. I can never surpass that. I can never be free.”
Jonathan and Eliza shared a look. “What if you could be?” Jonathan said, choosing his words carefully. “Say there was a way to escape, or at least, to have a chance at escaping. A resistance effort of sorts.”
His attempts to be subtle were dashed by the cartographer, who smiled. “So you’re him. The one who prompted all of this. The Hellbreaker.”
“What?” Jonathan said, trying, and failing to hide his surprise. “How did you know?”
A toothy grin split the mapmaker’s wizened face. “You fit the descriptions to a tee. I’m surprised the guards haven’t picked you up by now. Or rather, I’m not surprised. Damn fools only care about booze, whores, and the bottom line.”
“As do many in the Infinite Hells,” Eliza interrupted. “We fight to change all that.”
The cartographer raised an eyebrow. “I see. You might have had some early success, but do you really think you can carry that all the way to Angranor’s throne?”
“I do,” Jonathan said resolutely. “If a person has nothing to fight for, nothing to strive towards, what purpose do they have?”
“Their lives?” The other man chuckled. “I won’t be joining you. Perhaps if you succeed in liberating this ‘Greater Circle of Sloth’, I’ll continue to level, but that is all.”
Jonathan sighed. “Alright. Can we at least buy a map? Or get some sort of idea of where we are?”
“That, I can help you with.”
