Overpowered Wizard-Chapter 261: B3: C51: World Shakers, Outsiders, Regressors 3

Three days later, Zarian sat on a dark red throne of leather, spikes, and snakes made from Para’s body. He was taking up a spot in the center of the city he’d fixed up with Aura Mastery.

That was one of the first things he did while Para feasted on all the people she deemed as irredeemable unless they were important. She’d turned the important ones into skeletons.

Zarian was still a half-broken mess, and none of the healers in Frivolous City could help him. The drawback from having pushed Lion Prince too hard remained like a curse.

The only person who was powerful enough to rejuvenate his ragged vitality and put his body back together was Gilbert.

Apparently, most, if not all, healers, even of the adventurer sort, didn’t make it far above Level 50. While healing yielded experience, it didn’t compare to fighting and getting into danger, and most healers who reached Level 50 settled there.

Their healing life was more fruitful if they remained safe and around a populace with plenty of coins to pay them for their services. So why should they risk their lives when being at Level 50 was considered a great accomplishment in most human kingdoms?

Gilbert was probably one of the most powerful healers in the World of Castles and Caverns. Not having him while Zarian existed as a screwed-up flesh suit that his parasite had to halfway puppet really hammered how much the wizard appreciated his fellow Florida Man.

Though, Zarian was bracing himself for a tough conversation when they reunite later. Or maybe that tough conversation with Gilbert would happen after Zarian was healed and got some much-needed shut eye.

He’d gone ten days straight without sleep while actively training or fighting or dealing with unique challenges across the Stone Sea River.

So, yeah, Zarian was tired. He was ready to give himself a break. Or better yet, he was ready to flip things around.

But first, he glanced over at his heart-of-gold assistant in Frivolous City. The man was standing next to the throne, back straight, ears pricked, his eyes looking straight forward while fearing for his life every second he was around the ‘Dark Saint.’ He seemed to breathe a little easier now that Frivolous City was seeing another sunrise.

The light rays from the rising twin suns bathed the colorfully painted buildings, windmills, and aquatic statues. The victimized people of the past regime crept out from the nooks and crannies of their shanty homes or large structures that served as manors or hotels where they had once served as decrepit wretches.

Most of the citizens avoided the central square or the pristine areas where a large crack had once run through the island city. Zarian could see they were still afraid of walking through the empty zone that was cutting the city in half, despite it being very walkable thanks to Zarian’s Aura Mastery. The structural foundations of the city were probably better now after his help.

Zarian let the shell-shocked people do as they pleased except for the ones who had unique issues with their minds. There were still hundreds of those he and Para hadn’t gotten to yet. So Zarian called over for his assistant’s attention.

“Wally … no … I keep forgetting you’re Walter,” Zarian said, correcting himself.

Walter shivered at the mention of his name. He looked like a taller and older version of Wally and Wallen, but with a bushy mustache. Hell, Walter’s soul was even similar to Wallen’s, from what Zarian could see with aura.

There was a cosmic joke going on, and it would’ve driven Zarian mad if it wasn’t for one helpful factor. Walter was an Outsider from another version of the old world. Or what Zarian wanted to consider an alt-world from an alt-universe.

“How may I be of service, sir?” Walter asked, his white-gloved hands clenched together as he pivoted to the seated Dark Saint. The man did his best not to look at the sharp spikes and coiling snakes covering the evil-looking throne.

“I’m going to summon the last group who have mind fuckery in their heads,” Zarian said. “Please use your skills to soothe them afterward.”

“Right away, good sir!” Walter shouted, his posh Alt-Londoner background showing.

Zarian looked at him for a little while longer. It was still weird to see an older version of Wally who came from a world where Great Britain won the American Revolutionary War. It said so in the man’s profile that Zarian couldn’t help but reread from time to time:

<Walter Writmen, Outsider, Level 68 Solace Guide (Epic), Good +2.>

<Total Base Stats: 773.>

<Best Three Stats: Wonder, Mysticism, Agility.>

<Alpha Skills: Intellectual Field +2, Light of Guidance +2, Tranquility Force +2, Resolving Force +2.>

<Traits: Therapy Affinity (Rare), Proper Gentleman Charm (Uncommon), Honorable Fist Fighter (Uncommon), Cheerio Luck (Rare), Downtrodden Savior (Epic), Good Guy Magic (Epic).>

<Expanded Details: Despite coming from an affluent background born from the imperial dominance of Great Britain in his old world, the 34-year-old Walter turned his back on the aristocracy and devoted most of his time helping those without means or better birth through his practice as an affordable therapist. Now here in the Infinita Star System, after falling into a gap between space and time, he spent the last year journeying across the Windy Strider Kingdom. He fought evil as best as he could, even if it meant through reconciliation. Or by teaming up with others and supporting them during monster attacks.>

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

<More Expanded Details: He was born Late Autumn. He’s both afraid of you and thinks you are the most evil creature to exist. He’s morally opposed to you and Para’s views and thinks you could’ve saved Frivolous City by changing the villains for the better instead of killing them all indiscriminately. Despite that, he’s smart enough to keep his opinions to himself even if they are strong opinions, at least for now.>

For someone to come from alternate worlds and alternate universes would mean the multiverse theory was a thing. Out there, there could be multiple versions of anyone.

Although that might not be the case for Zarian, Ariana, and Luciana. As ultra children, they might be wholly unique across the many universes and multiverses.

Still, it was quite interesting to see three versions of the same guy. Wally’s spirit lived on.

“Is there anything I can help you with, good sir?” Walter asked, sweating bullets from under Zarian’s intense stare.

The Dark Saint, as everyone knew him, turned away from Walter and waved his hand for the sake of theatrics even though it was unnecessary.

Spectral spiders danced out of view from around the mostly empty square. Zarian summoned Voidling, and the metallic grimoire appeared through a portal with a bloody hum before going into orbit around the throne.

Then he cast Void Waltz and brought all the wretches that had cried and raged over the deaths of their tormentors. Instead of seeing Zarian on his throne as scary or as heroic, they instantly threw themselves into the attack, all five hundred of them.

Walter expanded his Tranquility Force +2 to slow the rabble down, which he was somewhat successful. Most of the wretches were around Level 10, after all.

That made things easier for Zarian and Para, as they provided corrective mind surgery with Aura Mastery and Devourer of Secrets and Stories. Zarian acted as the guiding hand, while Para acted like a surgeon’s knife or a curative leech.

They cut out the mind fuckery out of these poor people and fed the combination of magic and traumatic memories to Para. The parasite handled it all easily, leaving Zarian peacefully ignorant of the exact details of the wretches’ suffering.

Freed from their mental slavery, the five hundred people collapsed.

Some vomited.

Others broke out into crying fits for themselves.

It was quite the mess.

Zarian didn’t mind the messiness while they tried to sort themselves out.

Here, Walter shone like the twinned suns, walking among the people and providing therapeutic aid. All of his powers supported others by making them smarter, giving them a sense of purpose, pacifying their trauma, and building up their determination.

In what should’ve taken years or all of their lives to heal from, Walter patched up all five hundred people and gave them enough sense of self to get on their feet and figure out what they wanted to do next.

Most fled in fear of the Dark Saint. Others stopped to thank Zarian, some going as far as kneeling before him and proclaiming him a hero.

Zarian didn’t stop them, especially since Para seemed to enjoy it.

She did more of the speaking with individual people as uncoiling snakes slithering forth from the throne. Of course, that scared many of them, but others remained to converse before scrambling off to take action for themselves and for their rapidly changing city.

Then the square became mostly empty except for those who lingered around to watch Zarian and his living throne with wide eyes.

“I can recharge your aura with my aura, Walter,” Zarian offered the man. “Also, congrats on hitting Level 69. Nice.”

Walter was sweaty under his gentlemanly attire. Using all of his skills to fix lifetimes and generational trauma wasn’t an easy feat, even if the targets of his aid were much lower in level than him. He had to work on hundreds of them at once, and now he needed time to recover his aura.

That was why Zarian and Para had taken three days to accomplish the most pressing objectives. They had to wait for Walter to recover and keep up. Everything else could happen without them.

They had plenty of spiders scattered all over the place. They had skeletons made from the former lords and ladies of this place that could run things. They were smart enough to help guide Frivolous City to a better tomorrow without Zarian and Para having to stay.

There were also plenty of gold and quality items in all the vaults around Frivolous City. There was so much wealth placed here, Zarian figured this city worked as both a den of depravity and as a place to hold the riches of many striders across the kingdom.

Thankfully, there were enough spectral spiders and advanced skeletons here who could handle anyone with a violent need to withdraw their deposit instead of donating it to the recovering survivors of Frivolous City.

“Why?” Walter asked with a bit more force than before.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help recharge you? It’ll be quick,” Zarian offered. “You’ll think clearer when you’re not drained of aura.”

Walter whirled around, uncaring of the offer and how he looked now. Clearly, his fear had run its course and now anger was brimming to the top.

“You killed ten thousand men and women without even giving them a chance! You declared their lives forfeit and just ended them in a blink!”

“Well, that’s the fastest way to get rid of some rowdy tourists who don’t care for the people,” Zarian said. “But, seriously, Walter, what are you mad for? I found you starving and bound by aura cuffs in a dirty cage in someone’s cellar. They were preparing to do the mind rape and enslaving stuff with you.”

“You killed children!”

“Eh, only the ones on the older side of their teenage years. They kinda went too far in following their parents’ and grandparents’ footsteps. That and the amount of work it would take to redeem them was too much for my schedule. But the younger ones still get a chance to do better. If not, they can follow their elders’ destiny when they’re old enough for my conscience.”

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Walter’s eyes bulged at Zarian’s callous words.

Before the Solace Guide could argue further, Para hissed from many serpent mouths. “It was all my decision to overturn the structures, the rulers, and the patrons of this rotten place with violence and death. Zarian backed it, but I chose who lived and who died. Then I ate half of them and kept the others as skeletons who could be useful for the reconstruction of Frivolous City. If you must disagree with someone … disagree with me.”