Free Web NovelChapter 15: The Procession
Gabriel walked a few streets away from the abandoned church, hands in his pockets and mind analyzing.
The symbols he had seen on the walls—circles and inverted triangles. In the game, those figures could always carry multiple deeper meanings.
But what exactly did they represent here? Members of cults? Forbidden rituals connected to the "gods" that Paranoid Dan had mentioned with such terror?
The connection was becoming even more tangible, though still invisible. A web where every thread led back to the church.
He decided to visit Dan again. Maybe the paranoid man had recovered enough sanity to give more answers.
He walked toward the abandoned area of the village, but when he reached the hut, he stopped dead.
The door had been forced open, hanging from a single hinge. The windows were completely shattered, with broken glass scattered across the ground like sharp teeth.
The interior looked ransacked even from outside: torn maps, broken flasks, and overturned furniture. There was no sign of Dan.
Gabriel approached cautiously, checking the surroundings. There weren’t many players or NPCs nearby.
The place seemed more deserted than ever.
He tried to search for clues—footprints, fallen objects, or any message—but everything was too messed up and the system didn’t mark anything as interactive. An uncomfortable feeling settled in his chest.
It was then that he noticed the strange movement.
A large number of players and NPCs were heading in the same direction, toward a nearby square.
Their low conversations reached his ears. They were talking about a "funeral procession." Something very unusual in the beginner village, which had piqued the players’ curiosity.
Gabriel frowned and followed them, blending into the crowd.
The closer he got, the more people gathered. The square was full.
A crowd of NPCs surrounded a central point, some with genuinely affected expressions.
He recognized several: the baker, the seamstress, and even some of the men who drank cheap liquor, all with solemn faces.
Gabriel approached one of the NPCs he knew by sight and asked quietly:
"What happened? Whose wake is this?"
The man, a carpenter with calloused hands, answered without looking directly at him:
"It’s young Liran. A good kid. His body was found near the well... It shocked everyone. He was kind to everybody."
Gabriel felt his blood run cold for an instant when he finally saw the deceased’s face.
It was him. The nervous young man who had guided him to Dan’s hut.
The same one who had stammered a warning for him to stop asking questions. Now he lay on a wooden board covered with a white cloth, his face pale and a dark sealed wound visible.
Whispers spread through the crowd like poison:
"They say it was Paranoid Dan..."
"The madman finally became dangerous."
"He disappeared after what he did. No one has seen him."
"Poor kid, he was really interested in that lunatic’s stories."
Gabriel slowly stepped back, his stomach turning. He withdrew from the square without drawing attention, but his mind was filled with doubts.
What influence had he had in this? Had his visit to Dan triggered something? Had the chain quest cost the NPC his life? Gabriel hesitated.
His mood was heavy. Too many thoughts kept surging in his mind without stopping.
He needed to vent.
He headed to Training Field 3, a dynamically generated area feared by many beginners.
He put on the Jester’s Mask before entering. The disturbing smile settled perfectly over his face.
The enemies here were wolves—packs of fierce, fast, and savage gray wolves. At that moment, he wanted to drown his doubts in violence.
The moment he crossed the invisible barrier of the field, the environment turned into a dense, misty forest. Gabriel tracked down the first pack.
He wasn’t looking for elegance. Only brutality. fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓
The fight was savage. It didn’t resemble a rational exchange, just beast against beast.
A gray wolf leaped toward his throat, but Gabriel met it with a dagger driven under its jaw.
Another bit into his arm when he got too close. He rolled through the mud, stabbing it repeatedly until it stopped moving.
He slashed, stabbed, and killed without mercy. Blood splattered his clothes and the mask.
Every death gave him experience, but above all, it gave him temporary release.
However, he had been noticed long before.
While he was heading to Training Field 3, members of the Black Stone Faction had recognized him by the mask.
There were twelve of them. Some were the same ones who had tried to extort him at the fair.
This time they came prepared, with better weapons and a thirst for revenge.
"There’s the clown!" one shouted.
"We’re going to collect that rent with interest, you bastard! We’ve been looking for you for a long time!"
Gabriel sensed them coming before they spoke. His enhanced senses caught their clumsy footsteps and agitated breathing. He didn’t give them a chance to surround him.
He moved like a ghost between the trees. The first victim fell with a dagger buried in the back of his neck before he could react.
The second tried to counterattack but had no chance. Gabriel dodged the axe and opened his belly with an upward slash.
They screamed insults, threats, and cries of terror.
It didn’t matter.
With no real coordination, only the brute force of numbers, they fell one after another. Gabriel was driven by a cold murderous intent.
There was no pleasure, only necessity.
The last one tried to flee, but was caught like lightning.
He knocked him down and mercilessly stomped on his head with his reinforced boot, sinking it into the mud. He covered the man’s mouth with one hand and drove the dagger into his heart with the other, twisting the blade.
The bodies dissolved into particles of light when their HP reached zero, leaving only equipment and coins on the ground.
Gabriel didn’t check the loot. He stood in the middle of the clearing, breathing heavily, covered in blood and mud.
Finally, he sat against a tree and removed the mask for a moment. The emptiness inside him had grown deeper.
He understood his fear. He had never truly had power over events. ƒreewebɳovel.com
Not in real life, nor here. Always reacting, always being dragged along by circumstances.
Young Liran had died. Dan had disappeared. The church was waiting. And he... he was still just a beginner with some talent and luck.
He needed to become powerful. Truly powerful.
That night he would go to the abandoned church to investigate. With the Jester’s Mask on, well-equipped, and without fear of the consequences.
He stood up and quickly collected the loot—weapons, light armor, and coins.
Gabriel felt something inside him hardening. The guilt over Liran, the confusion over Dan, the mystery of the church... everything became fuel.
This time he wouldn’t enter as a curious explorer.
He would enter as someone willing to break whatever was necessary to get answers.
And answers, he was sure, he would find within those silent walls.
