Apocalypse respawn

Upon learning the news, the entire group was surprised.

"How can a wasteland be destroyed?" asked the shocked commander as Rargnes felt this news like a time bomb. He swallowed what he had and looked down at the ground. 

His...his second self had been dead for a long time, fortunately - he didn't died by something he couldn't control. 

'But what would happen if I ever stand on a soon-to-be-destroyed wasteland like Truckdriver?'

Then, a thought occurred to him. Was it possible that he had just recovered the energy that his second self had acquired in his life? As one kills another, a part of the slain enemy's energy is directly absorbed into the body and made into their own energy, while a bigger part is to be absorbed through training. 

The major part, however, was lost, even when the murderer had a specialized energy-classe. Maybe it was the system's will to stop a tyrant from killing everyone.

However, he quickly rejected this theory. If that were true, then he would have received much less energy, given that his second version couldn't have killed nor trained enough - He did not remember that period exactly, but the different flashes and speeches he had heard from his power led him to think so.

The village immediately celebrated, helping Rargnes and his group integrate into the village's elite social circle.

Everyone, even the slaves, feasted at this kind of party.

The coming of the king! The one whose awakening would give them energy- more energy than even the noble possessed and feelings of happiness that would never stop, and which even consumed by the greatest pleasures every day would rewind so that the person could continue to appreciate them instead of finding them increasingly bland.

The party lasted one day, after which Roaes invited them to his house, where they spent some time.

"So!" said Roaes with a big smile. "You'll come again?" He spoke while drunk. Rargnes looked at him with an awkward little smile. "Oh yes, of course."

That would be fine as long as Rargnes' origins could be verified by hearsay. Such foundations would help them when, in the future, 

a few wealthy families would investigate them.

They would only need to come the next day when Roaes would introduce them to the local priest to donate him some of the lands they bought.

They had found a buyer—you always found one if you spent enough—except for the frontier's land, of course.

***

'I should sleep.' Jean's voice penetrated Rargnes' mind as the wagon carried them to where they would find a place to sleep that night, which would probably be in a local's house again who had asked for nothing but whose mafia was in charge. He sighed; another vision.

Footsteps creaked on the wood as Jean approached the luminous split of the door.

Sengrar headed down the hallway of what seemed to be an inn, built similarly to any other inn, as the king wished. A huge, malicious smile hung on his face as he descended the staircases.

'Damn, is that how the noble found us?' Jean thought. 'If he denounces them, I won't get anything.'

The phrase made Rargnes twitch. Sengrar was linked to the noble?! It was just a guess from Jean, but my God! That smile!

Rargnes regained his senses with the commander's hand disturbing him from his vision.

"Hey! All's fine?"

Rargnes came out of his huddled position.

"Did you have a nightmare or what?"

Rargnes slowly shook his head. The following travel led them to a resting town before the dark made it impossible to pursue their road.

---

The household fire crackled, its sparks barely warming the dark room as the host served Rargnes a broth. For once, he was alone, like his host. Rargnes furtively looked around and found the house, even for a small town, quite large. The house had three rooms, a shop downstairs, two bedrooms higher up in a somewhat leaning house.

The house had been backed up against the town wall - something illegal and therefore sold cheaper, especially since the town had lost most of its population and the forces that controlled it. The mafia ran the town by arranging with the administrator, who himself had bought his position and definitely did not respect the limits of the bribes allowed by the king.

It was not a question of believing or not, in any case. They all knew that the king would awaken, but human nature told itself the stories it wanted to hear, and no one ever really felt guilty.

They would have tons of excuses to maintain the way they lived their life, and the worst was that they believed them.

There was no discussion with this poor man. Most of his utensils were in poor condition. The man looked beaten down by life, quite stooped, expiring time more than life with each of his slow and weary gestures.

Rargnes spotted the figure of a child's toy, appearing dusty but almost new. The man certainly had a story, a tragedy - several even, given his condition. Perhaps he would have learned things by giving him an ear, by asking him questions - perhaps the man would have liked it despite the initial apprehension.

But in the end, the life that man was wasting did not interest him. They remained strangers, and the next day, Rargnes returned.