Freedom

Two Hundred Years Later...

~~~~~

Azviel yawned as he stretched his legs and wings across the throne. "Oi, Voice. When are the next players going to come? I'm bored to death."

[They're currently on the second layer.]

He sighed and kicked his feet back and forth. It has been two hundred years since he was out in the actual world. He had no idea of what was happening outside.

Azviel learned that the dungeon he was in had three layers. The first layer would be the easiest, while the third layer was where he is. Once you enter a dungeon, you cannot go out until you die or defeat the boss.

He stood up from the throne as he sensed someone getting near. "Ah~ Finally! They're here. The last person that I remember put up a good fight was a red-haired swordsman who managed to cut off my arm. Luckily, it all grows back~"

Azviel kicked some skeletons and bones from the foot of his throne. Over the years, the ground became littered with decaying corpses. Most were skeletons that were long-forgotten. He had learned much about what he can do, and the abilities that he has. His main ability was similar to black flames, and his weapon had this changing form ability. It could switch from knife to sword to bow at any time.

A group of people burst open the door. It was a huge group. There were many swordsmen, archers, tanks, and healers.

Azviel grinned and rubbed the back of the head. "Oh? You brought this little group to play with me? But that's so unfair, FOR YOU~" He unsheathed his sword in one smooth motion and waved it at the front lines.

Instantly, a wave of flames washed over the people, disintegrating them into nothingness. Azviel frowned. "That's no fun! Don't die so easily! Even if you can't understand me, don't just stand there with your weapons out!"

He leapt forward once more, and this time, his sword was met with a few tanks holding up their shield. He grinned. "This is mere child's play!"

With a single swipe and flap of his wings, the tanks were pushed back. Archers launched a volley of arrows that were easily deflected from his wings.

Azviel heard someone shout out, "Left flank, attack!" He located the source as an mage. He flapped his wings twice and shot towards the mage, defending himself from any attacks. Then, with a swipe of black fire, his sword pierced through the mage's heart.

The mage gasp and fell to the ground. Screams arose from the players.

"COMMANDER!"

"THIS BOSS IS WAY TO STRONG!"

"IMPOSSIBLE!"

Azviel laughed and licked a bit of the blood off his sword. With a wave of his hand, a flame barrier rose between him and the players. The swordsmen couldn't reach him and only the archers and mages could attack.

He yawned as more arrows flew towards him. "So boring~" With a flick of his hand, his sword became a bow. Shooting three arrows at once, he slowly took down all the players.

Only a few swordsmen were left. Azviel switched his bow back to a sword then swung it down. Two were instantly killed. The last remaining boy struggled to get something out of his pockets.

Azviel killed him before anything happened. The body and the item fell to the floor and silence. He yawned. "That's it? No fun at all~" He picked up the item the boy dropped.

It was a simple glowing stone with a rune engraved on it. "Voice, what is this?"

[I don't know.]

Azviel laughed. "Even the great Voice doesn't know. No matter, it's useless to me." He crushed the stone in his hand and dropped the remainders to the floor.

Suddenly, the room started turning black. A headache hit Azviel and he groaned. "Voice! What is this?"

[I don't know...]

Voice became quieter and quieter as darkness filled Azviel's vision. Then, black.

~~~~~

Azviel awoke to a headache. He rubbed the back of his head. "Ouch...why is it so bright?" He shielded his eyes and looked up to see a busy street with many stalls and people walking around.

His jaw dropped to the ground. "Is this really Elthea? It's been two hundred years...everything is different."

The stalls varied from weapons to elixirs to simply runes. Most people carried a weapon around and wore armor.

Azviel stood up and looked at himself. He was wearing the same thing he did in the dungeon. A black cloak with a sword sheathed across his back. His wings were currently hidden underneath the cloak so no one could see them. His hood also blocked out the shadowy horns on his head. However, splatters of blood still covered his face and hair.

An old woman walked up to him. "Oh dear boy. You look lost. Would you like a towel to wipe that blood off of yourself?"

Azviel opened his mouth to talk, but then closed it again. What if he still couldn't talk to anyone? It also seemed like Voice was gone too.

He nodded and the woman passed him a towel. "You must have been just inside of a dungeon. What happened to your party? Did they pass away? I'm sorry for your loss."

Azviel decided to try talking. "Thank you..."

The woman patted him on the back. "No worries! It must have been hard for you. Here, take a piece of bread. I wish you well on your journey."

He dipped his head and took the bread. Azviel started chuckling as he walked away. "The limitations on my voice are lifted~ I can talk now! Hm...It's already been two hundred years, so I suppose I would like to see what this world is like!"

Azviel walked around and saw a group of people carrying weapons. When he concentrated, he could see their name and level above their head. "Huh...That must be the same thing that showed that I was a dungeon boss. I wonder what it says above my head now..."