Freddy couldn’t say he was shocked to hear the number. Bloodshed alone had done a bit over half the work, he estimated, and they seemed to count Bloodshed’s contribution as his own—as was fair. It was still his ability. But he was no slouch, either. Half a million monsters took a lot of work to kill.
Naturally, most of the kills came from cannon fodder that he dispatched without a second thought, but still, nobody said it didn’t count.
“Astounding accomplishment,” Judge Albert voiced in a tone that betrayed absolutely no amazement. Guy’s clearly seen his fair share of absurdities. “For the remarkable feat of having slain over a million foes in the Empire’s Eternal War before reaching the third star, you will be rewarded a fifth-rank trooper medal.”
There was no vote. The two other judges had nothing to say, either. It seemed this wasn’t up to debate, but rather, just protocol for having passed a certain number. As for the medal itself, he would get them after the trial. Yes, them, since this was far from the only one he earned.
And, even though he had zero clue what the ranks even meant, it seemed that this first one wasn’t even the most impressive one.
The next one even got a bit of emotion out of ol’ Albert. “For the unbelievable feat of having slain more than 720 monsters with an estimated strength above the second star, you will be rewarded a special-rank slayer medal.”
Freddy didn’t know what the special rank even was, but clearly, it was no joke. The other judges gave severe nods at that, and the adjudicator was shaking his head in amusement.
“For the… frankly absurd achievement of single-handedly killing a giant-class monster with one attack… at the second star… you will be awarded a special-rank giantslayer medal.”
Judge Lissia scowled at that. “Requesting permission to question Mr. Stern.”
Judge Albert raised an eyebrow at her, and for a moment, he looked like he was about to refuse. But a quick glance at Freddy seemed to change his mind. “Granted.”
She turned to face him. “I’ve seen the witness reports, but I’m curious about how exactly you’ve done it. You are primarily a melee fighter, correct? And for the record, you have no legal obligation to answer my questions, I am merely asking to satisfy my curiosity.”
Freddy thought about what to say, but frankly, this wasn’t exactly a huge secret, and he assumed that answering the question would make the judges like him a little better, which was well worth sacrificing the tiny bit of private information. “It’s a bit complicated, but it comes down to stacking a lot of effects together. First, there is my spirit ability, Twisted Pendulum, which I’m sure you’re already familiar with from the reports.”
He had used it quite a number of times in front of others, and Judge Lissia confirmed that she was already aware of it with a nod.
“That’s one,” he said. “Due to the time dilation, the spear will fly twice as fast, which obviously converts into a lot more energy. Then, there was the Unholy Blessing, which I sacrificed my left arm for. I also have a ‘tension’ upgrade in my Hydraulic Throw, which lets me charge up an attack as long as I want to add more power, even to the point where I break my own arm, which is exactly what happened.”
Judge Lissia’s eyes flashed with realization. “And due to your talent, you can afford to do that since you’ll be able to heal your arm.”
“Yes. Then, of course, the javelins which have ‘anti-gravity’ and Accelerate Blood Projectile, which I added ‘acceleration’ to.”
“The reports also mention some kind of criss-crossing golden line effect on the javelins. What was the origin of that?”
Freddy gave a bitter smile. “A unique cursed item. An amazing one. And one that I unfortunately lost during the fight against Nahar.”
She nodded with a sympathetic look. “Highly unfortunate, but that’s the nature of equipment. But yes, I can see how all of these effects would have resulted in your javelins, as the witnesses claim, setting on fire.” She chuckled, and Freddy couldn’t help but laugh a bit, too. A strange look crossed her gaze. “I have a bit of a personal question, if you don’t mind.”
“Go ahead.”
“From what I gathered, you seem to have a penchant for methods that involve getting seriously injured. I understand that you can get away with it due to your talent, and they’re clearly highly effective, but I wonder… does treating your health as a resource not take a toll on you?”
He opened his mouth, and then closed it, giving himself a long moment to think about it. “Not really, no. Not in a way that I mind, at least.” He paused again, thinking back on all the times he got hurt. “With the temporary nature of my injuries, I have developed a new perspective on pain, I think. It's just a sensation to me now, not much different than the color blue or the smell of wet dirt. Just a sense that lets me know what state my body is in.”
She hummed. “And the process of developing this new perspective… I can’t imagine it happened overnight. Do you not believe this has cost you something important?”
He chewed on those words for a long, long, moment. “Even if I did… I feel I’m better off without it.”
“I see… That concludes my questioning.”
Judge Albert nodded, and they continued with his medals. He received a rather disappointing second-rank veteran one for spending over three months in live combat. A first-rank expert medal for participating in one battle, which, well, technically, given the lack of breaks, that had only been one battle, he supposed, but that one seemed a bit… superfluous. But hey, free medal. He wasn’t going to complain about it.
And finally—
“For the awe-inspiring act of having thrown yourself into certain death to save the lives of others, you receive the special-rank martyr medal.” Judge Albert gave him a small smile. “That concludes your medals for the time being. That being said, there are two more waiting.
“Both can only be given once we’ve confirmed the possibility of you having contributed significantly to Nahar’s death. One for having played a part in the fall of a powerful four-star while only being at the second star yourself, and the other for your overall contribution to the defense of Repentawa and its people. This concludes the trial. You may leave.” The man turned to the adjudicator. “You will stay a bit longer.”
The adjudicator gave a severe nod as Freddy was escorted outside.
He was taken to a room where he was to receive his medals. They hadn’t been made yet, apparently, as they needed his essence signature for the sake of authenticity. He happily did as he was told, and not even twenty minutes later, he was the proud owner of six shiny new medals. And he was free. The trial was over.
Nobody ever walks out of there in a good mood, huh?
He smiled.
Admittedly, there were a couple of things that had left a sour taste in his mouth, but this outcome was infinitely better than what he’d been expecting.
With his medals in hand, he was simply escorted out to the lobby. It was a massive open space with numerous benches full of waiting people. After a bit of aimless wandering, he found an empty seat in the corner and sat down.
The adjudicator was nowhere to be seen. He didn’t remember agreeing to meet the man anywhere, but he needed to talk to him. Hoping that the man hadn’t already left, he settled in, taking his medals out of his storage ring.
There was no need to fear having them stolen. They came with a number of built-in mechanisms that protected them from theft, including the fact that they were keyed to explode if someone tried putting them into a storage ring that wasn’t synced with Freddy.
Besides, they were useless in the hands of anyone who wasn’t the owner due to their unique essence signature. Oh, and the empire executed anyone for trying to steal them.
He was missing a third-rank one and a fourth-rank one, so he didn’t know what they all looked like, but the first- and second-rank ones he recognized from having seen them on some of the people walking along the street. But clearly, these wartime medals weren’t the only type of badge there was, as there had been many different styles among those he’d seen.
The first-rank medal was bronze, and the second-rank one was a dull shade of silver. The fifth-rank one was made of some kind of violet metal Freddy didn’t recognize, while the special-rank ones were a pure, shiny white.
On top of hints of his own essence signature, they gave off a powerful signature of their own, with the special-rank ones giving off an imposing, regal presence.
The first, second, and fifth-rank ones were clearly of a standardized shape and form. All of them had a frame, with a small spot on the bottom that denoted their rank in stars. And in the middle, they had some kind of symbol. The slayer one had a stylized saber, veteran had a sword, and expert had a bow.
But the special-rank medals were different.
They were clearly not standard-issue.
Rather than stars, they all had a large S engraved on the bottom, and in the middle, they all contained a carved portrait.
The martyr medal contained the scene of a large group of people running through a hole in the wall, while a figure headed in the other direction. Alone.
His breath caught as he saw the depiction of what he’d done. A strange blend of emotions boiled deep within. On the backside, there was a short retelling of what happened, marking the date and a short description of his heroic deed.
Putting it away into his storage ring, he examined the giantslayer one. It depicted the scene of Freddy standing on a small hill, dramatically facing the incoming giant with a javelin in his hand. It was badass as fuck, even though the giant looked nothing like the one he’d fought, and it was like a million times closer than it had been in the fight, but that could be excused. It wasn’t meant to be accurate, but symbolic. Again, there was a short description of his accomplishment on the back.
The slayer one was a bit different. It was divided into a bunch of smaller segments, sort of like a comic book, with the segments all portraying a different fight. The fights weren’t made-up either, he recognized some of the monsters in question, including the quasi-minotaur and the deviant golem he’d killed towards the start of the invasion.
By far, this was the most detailed medal he had, and he had to admit, it was incredibly cool. Same as with the other ones, it described the deed that had earned him the medal—or rather, his confirmed kill count.
“You need some more time to admire yourself?” a voice sounded before him, breaking him out of his reverie.
Freddy raised his head, spotting the adjudicator staring at him with an amused expression. “Adjudicator. You’re done.”
The man looked… different. More human, Freddy supposed. The man wasn’t particularly good looking, but he did look young physically. Before, however, he had an aged aura about him, an unmistakable authority that made it hard to see him as anything other than an ancient powerhouse.
Now he just kind of looked like a dude in his twenties.
The man’s smile grew conflicted. “I am not an adjudicator anymore.”
Freddy’s expression darkened. “Oh. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” The man slowly moved over, sitting down beside Freddy. “The empire takes good care of its retired servants. And I just got myself a fourth-rank martyr medal, so they’ll take extra good care of me.”
Freddy raised an eyebrow. “Fourth-rank?”
The man cackled and lightly punched Freddy in the shoulder. “Yeah, yeah, rub it in, Special-Rank. God, you’re a riot to be around sometimes.” The man sighed. “Now that I’m no longer an adjudicator, allow me to introduce myself.” He offered Freddy a handshake. “My name is Vladimir Spiritov.”
Freddy grinned. “Nice to meet you, Vlad.” He enthusiastically accepted the handshake.
Vladimir’s smile grew into a sneer. “Look at this chucklefuck, acting all chummy now that he thinks he’s my equal.” Despite his words, he tugged on Freddy’s arm and gave him a few friendly pats on the shoulder. “Man, I’m absolutely amazed with how well you did in there.”
Freddy raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t do much.”
“Exactly!” The man burst into laughter.
Freddy returned a chuckle of his own. “What, you thought I’d get myself executed?”
Vladimir’s expression turned into one of disappointment. “Come on, now. How low do you think my opinion of you is?” He grinned. “I think you could easily get both of us executed!”
They laughed. Freddy winced as a sudden headache stabbed through his head. “God. This one stings.”
The ex-adjudicator turned serious. “How about we move somewhere less crowded.”
“Lead the way.”
The two of them moved out. The adjudicator plated himself out in a shit ton of badges, although he excluded the martyr one for some reason.
Freddy raised an eyebrow. “Should I put mine on, too?”
The man shrugged. “Up to you, I guess. Tho if you do, the fifth-rank one is enough.”
Freddy nodded and followed the man’s advice. The medal was extremely easy to attach to his clothes. It hung on to his aura like a magnet. And he didn’t even have to release his aura, it was enough to just push it against his shirt to bring it close to his skin.
His experience walking outside with the violet badge was vastly different from his initial walk to the council building. This medal was no joke. People who spotted it looked rattled, and nobody even met his gaze anymore. In fact, people retracted their aura as they passed him, and a few even gave him respectful nods.
Oh. I totally get it now. This is awesome!
He shook his head. Somewhere deep down, he felt a tiny bit of shame for enjoying the looks on the faces of people passing him. But he squashed that shame, pushing it down where it came from.
The time for overthinking this crap was over. It was just how things were. Rather than constantly dwell on the fucked-up nature of society, he’d much prefer using the power he had to make things better.
And honestly, he was having way too much fun. The little devil on his shoulder was screaming at him to whip out the special badges, but he wasn’t about to go and attract unnecessary attention to himself.
Vladimir pulled out a tablet from his storage ring and looked something up. Freddy tried to look like he wasn’t a massive bumpkin, but on the inside, he was squealing like a school girl at the sight of the man pulling up a map of the city with numerous locations of interest marked on it.
Need to get me one of those.
“Come on. There’s a nice club with private booths right down the block. Follow me.”
They made their way over to the entrance to a gigantic building. The sheer height of the constructions in Starhold was baffling. It was clear that the city was trying to use every inch of space they had within the dome, be it horizontally or vertically.
Even if the architecture was… headache-inducing. They certainly didn’t shy away from colors or bright lights, and the club they were walking into genuinely hurt to look at, to the point where even Freddy was forced to squint a bit as they walked inside.
The instant they passed through the door, he was hit by music and smoke. Bright lights were flashing left and right, and Vladimir held him by the upper arm to make sure he didn’t get lost in the crowd.
This was nothing like any party he’d seen before. People were dancing like there was no tomorrow, and the average physical fitness of the people in Starhold let itself be known in the form of seriously impressive dance moves.
In sharp contrast to the outside, most kept their badges off inside the club. It wasn’t a rule or anything, as there were definitely a few people who still had them on, but they were in a minority. At least in this part of the club. Deeper in, sitting on elevated platforms above the crowd, the peacocking was still going strong.
Vladimir approached one of the staffers, paid something with his card, and a moment later, they were escorted to the back, where they were allowed into an opulent VIP room.
The music was blaring just as loudly here as on the outside, and seeing Freddy’s discomfort, the adjudicator approached a dial on the wall to turn it down. “Better?”
“Thank you. Soul damage and clubbing don’t mesh well.”
The man chuckled and scratched the back of his head. “Sorry about that. We could have gone somewhere more quiet.”
“Don’t worry about it. I prefer not passing out from the lack of stimulation.”
They made their way over to the lounge and got comfortable. “One hell of a day, huh?” Freddy said, taking one of the many cocktails waiting on the table before them.
“One hell of a year, more like.” Vladimir joined him in taking a drink.
“Quality stuff,” Freddy said as he downed a mystery rainbow cocktail, feeling the faint itch of his essence being replenished, one tiny drop at a time.
“Sure is.” The man leaned back, deflating into the couch. “Good job today. Seriously. I’m glad you took my advice.”
Freddy nodded slowly. “I’m glad you gave it to me.” He pulled out his badges, placing them on the table. “These are a lot more impressive than I assume, aren’t they?”
“Oh, you have no idea.” The man pulled himself into an upright position, then leaned over to point at the second-rank badge. “This badge is on its own already enough to command some respect. Three whole months in life-or-death action is no joke. And these—”he gestured to the special-rank ones—”command a whole lot more than just respect.”
“Mind explaining these ranks to me?”
Vladimir chuckled. “You should be able to intuit how it works easily enough. First-rank is mostly considered a participation medal. Fifth-rank means you’re among the best of the best.”
“And special?”
“That means you’re special, Freddy.” He grinned. “Well, think of it like this. For the most part, any badge you get will be used for dick-measuring with other elites. Hierarchy is important, and badges are a heuristic for where you stand. These tell you at a glance who you’re dealing with.”
Freddy cocked an eyebrow. “What if people hide them?”
“That’s a bit complicated. Say you hide them and someone looks down on you. Then, you pull them out afterwards to humiliate the person in question.” He shook his head. “That would be a massive faux pas. You’d get a reputation for being annoying, and many would shame you for treating your own status like a punchline. There’s even precedent for having a badge taken away if you use it in this way.”
Freddy scowled. “Seriously? So I have to wear them?”
“Not quite.” The man shrugged. “You just have to accept that some will consider you below them if you don’t reveal your full status.”
Freddy frowned at that. “I see.”
“Well, it's not like there isn’t a good reason to hide some badges. Too much attention can be a nuisance, and some badges…” He slowly moved his finger over to Freddy’s special-rank martyr badge. “You’re one of the very few people who have received this while still being alive. It’s a precious accolade, and an honorable thing to have. But—”
“Some will consider me a moron for being willing to lose my life for others?”
Vladimir slowly nodded. “Yes. Exactly. And this is where you should be aware of the other, arguably more important role of these medals, and all other types of badges you can receive. They’re your CV, pretty much. If you’re trying to join an organisation or get a job somewhere, a high-ranked badge is extremely valuable. Keep in mind, though, even lower-ranked badges make for valuable context.”
The man placed a finger on the first-rank expert badge. “If you wear this badge—”he then gestured to all the other ones—”it makes all your other badges look quite different. Second-rank for expert shows you’ve lived through at least ten battles, so a first-ranked badge can also be used as a certification for having fought through less than ten battles.
“If you had a third-ranked badge, that would mean you have lived through over a hundred battles, and while that’s certainly impressive… you tell me, which sounds better? A million kills in less than ten battles, or a million kills in somewhere between a hundred and two-fifty battles?”
Freddy scowled. “Doesn’t that disincentivize people from upgrading certain badges?”
“Not really. Again, they’re just a shorthand for what you’ve actually accomplished. Anyone serious about dealing with you will take a closer look at what you can actually do before making any decisions.”
“I see… What other kinds of badges are there?”
The man shrugged. “Lots of categories to pick from. From business, to academics, to dungeoneering, delving, exploring—there’s even badges for some sports.”
“Wow. So everything is a dick-measuring context here, isn’t it?”
Vladimir laughed. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, your dick is absolutely gigantic.”
Freddy snorted.
“And I’m not just talking about the medals you got today.” The man smirked at him. “It wouldn’t take much effort for you to earn a number of others, and if you visit the bank, you could easily get a badge for the ridiculous amount of money you’ve earned so far.”
“You’re telling me people proudly advertise how much money they have? What’s next, should I print out a bank statement and tape it to my shirt?”
“I’m sure at least one person has already done that.”
“I wish you sounded like you’re joking.”
“Believe me, that’s not even close to the craziest shit people get up to. Well, the last time I’ve been to a city like this was decades ago, and I’m sure they’ve invented a number of fun new ways to brag while I’ve been away.” He shook his head. “Well, this isn’t your problem for now.”
“Right… I’ve been meaning to ask for some advice.”
“And I’ve been meaning to give it to you. Can’t have my organ farm getting lost in a big city like this.” Vladimir winked at Freddy.
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
They chatted a while longer, mostly about more casual topics. A few hours later, they headed out.
It was time to finally go talk to a soul healer.