Overpowered Wizard-Chapter 262: B3: C52: World Shakers, Outsiders, Regressors 4

Walter hesitated as he examined the many serpent heads coiling around the throne and its spiky edges.

The man from an alt-world ruled by Great Britain had finally found the courage to argue with the Dark Saint because Zarian had the shape of a man, even if a half-broken and monstrous one. But debating Para directly was another matter, and Walter didn’t seem up to the task.

“We can use your help,” Zarian said, extending the figurative olive branch. “The spiders and skeletons can only do so much. The people look at you as a hero, too, way nicer than me. You can really make this place better, even if all you do is support people while my skeletons and spiders do the grunt work.”

“The people must thrive without your evil creatures lurking around every corner and shadow,” Walter declared.

Zarian shook his head sloppily. “You don’t have enough power to defend them, Wally … I mean … Walter. I know you have a good heart, and you’re making the most out of being far from home in a universe that’s beyond your empire, but you are a weak Outsider. And weak Outsiders aren’t useful to anybody unless you can back up what you’re trying to do.”

Walter gawked at Zarian, unaware of how Zarian could know so much about him. The man’s mouth opened and closed, uncertain of what to say next.

“Look, I got rid of the Sinfeast Temple. Isn’t that great?” Zarian smiled creepily.

“You also removed the Hopeland Temple!” Walter voiced hoarsely. “If anything, the power of Good Goddess Hopeland is most needed in these trying times.”

Zarian shook his head.

Good Goddess Hopeland was a divine drug dealer and nobody could tell him otherwise. She used hope in a screwed up way to keep hurt people hooked without actually changing anything.

Zarian could see Walter wasn’t aware that most of the good gods were scam artists.

“Well, we can debate more after I feel better.” Zarian figured it was time to relieve himself of the burden he and Para carried for ten days straight.

He stood from the throne, thick parasitic cords revealing themselves from behind his back while attached to his seat. His lion tail uncurled from around his waist as the throne contracted and reabsorbed into the gaps in his torn-up back.

Zarian stood with his muscular torso naked while wearing dark elven bottoms and boots Ruvaria had given him. The threads had recovered themselves from only a few strands that remained after pummeling the Toy Knight +1 and shaking the entire world.

Zarian lurched forward slightly, walking like a zombie, which made Walter let out a gasp in fear and stumble backward. Others milling about around the perimeter of the square, watching the great dark creature change their entire lives, took a few steps back toward the nearest exits.

Zarian stopped and rolled his aching shoulders. He scowled at the bright day, feeling bothered by all the light right now. He was truly feeling weary when common light became bothersome for him.

With a flex of magic, he cut off the power for the purple gravity web array on his back. The webbing shriveled and fell off, leaving his scarred back bare.

He removed his hat with one hand. He grabbed the crown with the other. Various parasite threads sprouted from the gaps in his chest, arms, and shoulders to form thick-bodied serpents.

One serpent opened its mouth wide and ejected a mythical container. Another serpent flipped the container open while a third grabbed the barbed crown from Zarian and placed the dreadful thing inside of its container.

Once the crown was secured and placed away in Para’s pocket dimension, a huge wave of relief rolled through Zarian and Para.

Then, finally, Zarian hand signed and chanted to end his cultivation properly. He freed himself from the strain of guiding his universe-threatening darkness through his inner channels and gates.

The relief he and Para felt became even greater. It was so great, Zarian zonked out a little.

The feeling of freedom from dark cultivation and cursed aura training was nearly as wonderful as having sex. Zarian luxuriated in the moment with a big, silly, and slightly creepy smile on his face.

“Why were you doing that to yourself?” Walter asked, pulling Zarian’s cloud-nine mind down to the ground. “You were suffering willingly for what?”

“To control my darkness. And to strengthen my magic,” Zarian answered truthfully.

Walter’s eyes sharpened. “You … you’re not just a Dark Saint, as you say. You’re him, aren’t you? You’re the Dark Lord!”

“Bingo, bango, you get a mango,” Zarian said, before turning toward another curiosity heading in their direction.

He placed his hat back on and felt stronger than ever, even though he hadn’t looked at the notifications for his gains yet. But he could tell that some of his new improvements were bleeding through even without his full acknowledgement.

His aura, for example, felt higher in quality. Or easier to use with less waste as a byproduct.

Interesting.

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He couldn’t wait for the System review.

But first, he needed to set the scene for a most interesting guest, followed by five other guests whom Zarian was more familiar with. One of them was the first elf he ever met.

Zarian chuckled darkly.

Noticeable shivers passed through Walter and everyone else hanging around the perimeter of the square. More of them peeled away and ran.

Walter and few others, brave or foolish, stayed to watch the Dark Lord raise his hands and use his hand signs and chants again. Then at the end, Zarian said, “One Percent Power Unsealed. Controlled Darkness.”

“Oh, Great, Britain, no,” Walter said shakily as darkness covered the ground, covered the buildings, covered the decorations. Darkness covered everything all around them and kept expanding further and further until it covered the entire city from wall to wall.

The darkness even infused itself with the bright blue-eyed sky and darkened it until everything was shaded. There was still enough light from the sky for people to see, but it wasn’t much, placing the entire island city in a frightening gloom.

“It’s the Darkrun Apocalypse again!” screamed a Level 9 man.

“Oh, my Good Gods! The Dark Saint wasn’t a saint! He’s the Dark Lord! We’ve been tricked!” cried a Level 7 woman.

“We are all going to die again!” Shouted a Level 2 boy.

More people panicked around the city. Zarian cut them all off with his voice coming from every spot of darkness, as if he was everywhere.

“I’m both the Dark Saint and Dark Lord. And I’m doing this for your protection,” Zarian explained. “Now go indoors, all of you, and don’t come out until I say you can.”

Even if they disagree with him, they couldn’t override the command outright. He had too much Willpower that he could express with his presence in the darkness.

Everyone of significant low level ran in doors right away, many taking shelter at the manors that were now empty of their former tormentors. They moved into the hotels that once housed patrons who came strictly to Frivolous City for depraved delights or to bank their hoards of gold.

As for the others who were more stubborn, Zarian simply shoved them somewhere safe with a few tentacles of darkness.

Zarian, Para called via mind.

Yes, Zarian replied via mind.

Do you think I’ll be able to better unite with your darkness once I synchronize with you?

Maybe, but let’s see if that’s necessary. I think we can win this with wizardry while protecting the city with my One Percent Darkness.

It would be easier to leave. But what if they attack the skeletons and unravel all our work here? Yes, we must win this fight and defend the city from collateral damage.

It was a damn great thing the cultivation with his darkness had finally led to a critical milestone. Zarian’s control over One Percent Darkness was the easiest it had ever felt. He felt so comfortable using one percent he could focus more on the six guests entering the darkened square and the Londer from an alt world.

Zarian let Walter stand as a witness. Zarian had enough control to protect the man beside him.

I wonder if I can talk-no-jutsu them into submission or to give up some info, Zarian wondered.

Do it. I will pay close attention and stay ready to react, Para shared privately.

“Things are about to get crazy, Walter,” Zarian said aloud.

“The darkness isn’t killing us,” Walter mumbled. “You can truly control it now? Without ending everything as we know it?”

“Dude, you’re five steps behind. Catch up, would you? You’re embarrassing me in front of the random guy and the elves.” Zarian raised a hand and waved. “Hey, Ruven, it’s been a while! You won’t believe what me and your great grandmother have been up to. I’ve gotten fantastic at elven arts with her!”

“You disgusting, orc shite, mongrel!” Ruven cussed.

The elven prince was still the same arrogant Slayer Scout Master from when he first tried to capture and seal away Zarian. But this time, Prince Ruven brought four other arrogant Slayer Scout Masters around his level.

The others were two elven dudes and two elven dudettes. They all shared Ruven’s features.

Sharp faces. Green eyes. Golden ears. Tall, striking figures, like supernatural super models dressed in brown and green adventure gear. And shimmering gold hair.

The way they reacted at the mention of Zarian’s close involvement with their great grandmother made Zarian think they were definitely closely related in Ruvaria’s very extensive family tree. Probably all princes and princesses.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

“You weren’t kidding, cousin,” said one of the other elf princes. “He’s a horrible fiend to look at. There’s now way our great grandmother would be around him without being cursed.”

“Hey, don’t say that to your great grandmother’s favorite student. I’m not disgusting, nor do I taste like orc shite, nor am I cursed more than the usual Dark Lord. Ruvaria adores me for me and my winning personality. And she said I taste great,” Zarian said.

Ruven and other four elves nearly left the bubble of safety provided by the sixth mysterious member of their group. Before they charged ahead recklessly, the mysterious man adorned in brown leathers, a hood, and a cloak raised his arm and gestured for them to stop.

The man then flicked the same arm and summoned an intricately carved white-wood bow into his hand.

When he raised his head, his hood sliding back on its own, the man revealed he was wearing a white mask with no eye holes. The man had no quiver of arrows on his back, but he had a belt of foreign white talismans that resisted Zarian’s probing magic and some.

<Unable to Identify.>

Zarian took a wild guess that wasn’t much of a guess because of free evil +7. “Either you’re some ancient relative they’d awoken from a cryosleep chamber. Or you’re a regressor from the Greater Worlds. I’m thinking it’s not the cryosleep thing. Otherwise, Ruvaria would’ve stepped in to stop whatever old elf from the absolute era got awoken.”

“Are those really elves? Like in the children’s books from when we were mere lads!?” Walter exclaimed.

“Still a little late, Walter, but to be honest, you’re too low in level and power to keep up. But to answer your question, yeah, they’re elves, but the nazi version.”

“Nazis?! Those blasted devils are here, too?!”

Zarian wasn’t sure, but he was more focused on the reactions of the elves and their mysterious friend.

“How does he know that our greatest ancestors slumber still? Did Great Grandmother Ruvaria give away everything while under this fiend’s dark spell?!” shrieked one of the female elves, gripping her staff tensely. “What sort of horrid magic could do this to our Forever Green Empress, our Sorceress Queen, our Chosen One?!”

“Other than the magic of sharing my bed,” Zarian quipped, “your regressor is sorely lacking, if you think he’s enough for me. I eat other Master Rankers below Level 150 for breakfast. And regressors from above are hella nerfed by the Star System when they get summoned down here. So, maybe you should check yourself before you get wrecked.”

“Nerfed, yeah. Checked, no. I’m a Champion Ranker, douchebag.” With that revealed, the white archer shot an arrow to Zarian’s chest.