The Legendary Fool : A Deckbuilding LITRPG

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Zirel offered with a flourish of his hands, his open palms directing their gazes towards a cozy foyer. The crackle of a warm fireplace originating from Tom’s left complimented a varnished, flat-top wooden desk that was strategically placed to serve as the first point of contact for any customers entering the purported establishment.

As Tom followed Zirel inside, shortly followed by Aleph, he noticed a round coffee table flanked by two cushioned armchairs, placed a comfortable distance before a short flight of stairs that led to the first floor.

“What the hell, Zirel?” Tom asked as he took in the small corner of warm coziness the Nameless District had to offer. The crackling of a warm fire. Neat, well-maintained furniture. And the tangy aroma of what was likely cured beast meat, serving a startling and equally welcome juxtaposition from the sweaty bodies and often foul-smelling blood-spattered gear a throng of shoddy dungeoneers subjected him to on a near daily basis.

While they had been practically slumming it out in an underground bunker, with stale air and week-old supplies—- Okay, maybe Tom was being a little hyperbolic. Nevertheless, it didn’t change the fact that Zirel’s accommodations were closer to the standards of his old world than the Nameless District.

Moreover, it was laughably ostentatious. Practically no different from holding a large sign inviting a group of Royal Knights to come streaming in with weapons drawn.

Even Aleph surreptitiously flashed Zirel a puzzled look and Tom could almost see the gears in her head turning— Was the prince less competent than what he had led them to believe?

In response, Zirel winced. “Look,” he began, his tone sounding a little apologetic. “The Elite Guards kind of commandeered this establishment a day after their arrival. The owners were well-compensated for their troubles and if they haven’t left the city by now, well… it’s not like I can walk up to them and give them the keys back, right? Not with my reputation being what it is….”

Tom could imagine the terror Riven Blackheart, known party killer, would inflict upon a dungeoneer that was clearly more interested in earning money for bread and breakfast over risking his life in the land below for the frankly slim chance that they would walk away with the winning gamble. If they were even interested in, or had any combat abilities, to begin with.

All Zirel’s benevolence would accomplish would be a very intimidated former hotelier seeking to distance himself from the Nameless District at the fastest velocity he could manage.

Tom found the mental image of the fleeing hotelier quite funny, if he was being honest.

“I get that, but….,” Aleph stiffened for a moment, as she realized that she had almost managed to initiate a casual conversation with Zirel Covan Nottrakon, of all people. Sure, the atmosphere had greatly eased after they had stepped out of the Dungeon— none of them were stupid enough to initiate combat in an administratively forlorn yet very much residential district. The time for consequence-less murder had passed.

But that didn’t mean that she could— or should— manage to hold a conversation with a member of the tainted bloodline that had been responsible for a monstrous crime?

That wasn’t fair. Not after she’d herself agreed with Tom’s assessment— even though his ‘newfound’ abilities had left her more than merely astonished. Even after the possibly shocking connections she had made when she contrasted their original purpose in visiting Zirel with the ‘side-effect’ that he had claimed was triggered at ‘random’.

There might have been some truth to that statement, but most of the shock she had felt at the revelation was offset by an even bigger revelation— the presence of Zirel Covan Nottrakon, right within the reach of her blade.

Surprisingly enough, she didn’t feel betrayed by him. Whatever his real name was. If he wanted to, withholding Zirel’s identity and leaving her in the dark was something he could have accomplished without any real consequences. Zirel certainly wouldn’t have volunteered and after a quick clash, it was likely that they would have chosen to retreat.

She could tell. Zirel was strong— perhaps the strongest enemy she had encountered till date, at least within her generation.

Instead, the man that went under the pseudonym Synrak had chosen to trust her with that decision. Aleph had been lied to before. She had been tricked. Cheated. Misled. Cornered. And yet, she had survived each time. So it wasn’t just her intuition that told her that Synrak was serious— that he would really fight the Fourth Prince of the Syrelore Kingdom if she made the decision to. To the death.

That action had bought a touch of warmth of Aleph’s life that she didn’t quite know how to deal with. So she had side-lined it, flagging it for later consideration as she focused on the task at hand.

Or at least, she had tried.

It was that touch of warmth that gave her the… courage? No. She had plenty of courage. Strength. Not the kind that empowered her sword strikes and gave her the velocity to cleave Phantasmal Beasts in half. No, it was something else. Something that she hadn’t known that she had been lacking for a while now.

An aspect of her that had shattered along with the demise of her Noble Family.

The strength to acknowledge that all her problems could not be solved through the blade alone.

“.... this makes us stick out like a sore thumb. Especially if the Royal Knights get wind of a bunch of upstarts that snatched an entire inn under their noses. Sure, they don’t really care about what goes down in these parts, but there are limits,” Aleph tried and to her surprise,the words managed to come to her naturally, without sounding forced. At all. She knew how to lie to herself. Had, many times. And that was precisely why she knew that this was not one of them.

Zirel paused mid-stride, his expression thoughtful as he considered Aleph’s words. “I admit that I didn’t consider that aspect. My knowledge of the inner functionings of Renovia are more theoretical in nature.”

Tom had to give some credit to the Prince. He might have claimed to be a pariah within the Nottrakon Family, but apparently the internal family politicking was something that rubbed off. After all, he had managed to throw a positive spin to the vast lacunae in his understanding of the Nameless District as naturally as breathing.

“Regardless,” Zirel continued after taking a few moments to consider the situation. “This doesn’t significantly alter our objectives. All we need to do is move the timeline up on our certain-death escapade.”

“Well, I guess… you haven’t been accosted out by Royal Knights yet,” Tom replied with a shrug, especially since Zirel put it that way. Compared to the insanity of what they were planning on attempting, it was pretty hypocritical to call out the Prince on his choice of accommodations.

“On that note,” Zirel’s tone deepened, his gaze turning sharper as he took in Tom from behind the receptionist’s desk. “You still haven’t told me why you were seeking out Riven Blackheart, of all people. I wouldn’t be particularly chagrined if it was to kill me, you know? I am responsible for the deaths of my original party members, so the rumors swirling around technically aren’t false.”

Tom had been studying a nondescript wooden door that was tucked away near the north-western corner of the room, to the other side of the receptionist’s desk. He hadn’t noticed it upon entering the inn as the grain of the dark brown wood blended in perfectly with its surroundings, the gray patina rusting the unassuming metal doorknob’s surface doing little to add to its presence.

His interest in it stemmed from a strong suspicion that beyond it lay the inn’s pantry and he was hungering for a decent meal.

A pity that he would have to answer Zirel first.

“The visions aren’t the only ability I have,” Tom answered after a few lingering moments, allowing a little hesitation to leak into his tone. “We need to infiltrate the Noble District and retrieve the final piece needed to survive the final sector. And my second ability allows me to perfectly impersonate anyone, as long as I meet a few conditions. Though obviously, I can’t replicate Soul Cards or Statistics, otherwise I wouldn’t need to go about things in such a convoluted way.”

“So- Wait, you wanted to replicate my appearance so you could….,” It only took Zirel a moment to guess at his intentions, “...frame me?”

Tom bluntly nodded, before explaining, “Well, based on the information I had, I wouldn’t feel bad about framing you for some serious crimes. Not that I was planning to kill anyone-” Tom hurriedly added, only to be abruptly cut off by Zirel.

“That’s brilliant!” He exclaimed animatedly, revealing a new facet of his persona that they hadn’t seen before.

Both Tom and Aleph gave him odd looks at the enthused reaction, clearly not expecting someone they were trying to frame for an extremely serious offense to be excited at the prospect.

“I’m not going to pry for details, but I’m assuming you’re good enough to trick all the detection methods they have in place. Which is ridiculous because the Knights are aware of every possible card that can trick perception and they have a couple methods to counter each. They don’t need to know who you’re impersonating, after all— as long as you have a card ability active, you should normally be exposed. But, I’m assuming you’re not.”

“I’m not,” Tom replied.

“Theory, see?” Zirel tapped at his forehead with a sly smile. “You’re seriously underestimating your abilities. With my knowledge of Noble House politics that has been hammered into my head by my tutors, your ability and enough time— we could bring at least a few noble houses to political implosion.”

Aleph sucked in a cold breath of air, clearly not having considered that possibility.

“But we don’t have that kind of time.”

Zirel clicked his tongue at that,”You were the one behind that theft in the Noble District, right? A pity.”

Tom’s brow twitched at that, as he once again reminded himself not to reveal any information that he didn’t expressly need to..

Zirel’s wrist flicked in quick repetition, as two keys went flying towards Tom and Aleph in quick succession.

They both caught it with ease.

“Room number one for the lady and four for you. They’re facing each other, but if you want to sleep together I can get you a double-bed—.”

“No,” Aleph immediately interjected. It was only for a second, but Tom swore that he picked up on just a hint of coyness in her tone.

He really was tired.

“Very well. Before we tuck in for the night though, I feel like I am obliged to inform you that there is a much simpler and certainly way less convoluted way of entering the Noble District.”

“What is it?” Tom hurriedly asked, clearly not having expected this turn in events.

The smile that was playing on Zirel’s lips only grew wider.

“I am willing to reveal it to you, but in return, I hope that you will reveal this ‘key piece’ you need upon your return. A secret for a secret is a fine exchange, is it not?”

Tom did his best to control his body language, not willing to glance in her direction for the slightest of instances. It was her inheritance that they needed to unlock and hopefully it would be enough to even the odds. However, he couldn’t have taken Zirel back to Aleph’s hideout. He was fairly cordial right now, but if he learned that the inheritance of the Longstradia Family was within arm’s reach, would he be able to resist the temptation?

Even if he knew the Greater Control Glyph, Zirel couldn’t be the one to open the inheritance.

Tom had to do it himself.

“Only after it is safely in my possession,” Tom replied with pursed lips.

“I can accept that,” Zirel replied, immediately reaching for a tear in the void that Tom knew to be his inventory.

He found himself retreating a few steps, while Aleph’s entire body language transformed to a state of combat readiness, but there was no loud explosion or a blinding flare as he pulled out a small metal emblem that buzzed with a violently red energy.

“The Crest of the Elite Guards of the Nottrakon Family should suffice for your purposes, no?”