There is no good from being chosen.

  When Perceus was chosen to join the Silver Chain it was by escaping a horde of 'recruiters' only to be caught when he fell asleep. The only real way to avoid them would be to flee into the wilderness or to die, and even those would have a chance of failure.

  He chose to be a scout, since he'd rather run away from enemies and bringing news to the higher ups was always a good excuse.

  But then he was chosen to be an assassin. To go from only 5 levels of scout and 2 levels of illusionist to 40 levels of Mistblade Assassin was excruciating. Most people wished that the system would simply give them a bunch of levels but nobody in the Silver Chain did so after seeing what it did to them.

  Then he was an assassin, not the best development, but he was made only to destroy some mage that had the power to disconnect people from the system. Why would they simply add levels to people they were going to send in after such a threat? Wouldn't he just steal the levels?

  Apparently not, but when he finally decided to go to the farm they staked out, after they had to burn the whole thing down, he had a chance to attack. His illusions nearly succeeded, but then he was caught. The other scout got diced by some horrible flame, but as he hung upside down in a completely dark room with curling vines injecting weird substances into him, he, Perceus, probably had it worse.

  The only saving grace was that he was not dead yet, and with the plants poking and prodding his mana he would probably end up there eventually. He heard rumors that the local deity, some Aria, had re-awoken. It would be his luck to be in their clutches.

  He'd tried twice to escape. The first time he'd broken the door but then been slammed against the wall and disarmed. The second time he lost everything but his smallclothes, he still had two knives in his Stash, an extradimensional space that an assassin could invest into through the system, but it took 20 levels of perks to make it, and it could only fit a few things. He was probably one of the only people to make that investment.

  He heard something thump and some rustling. One of the vines glimmered with light as it grew a flower with a mass of impossibly thin and clear petals that emitted light. Beside it was a lump of flesh directly connected to the vines, appearing almost like a reddish rock except that something pushed on the inside and the surface undulated.

  The surface tore and raw red skin stood up in something resembling a human form. The face warped as if someone was shaping clay, resulting in a piercing gaze and sharp thin features. The body was heavily muscled and masculine with the muscles almost immediately being shaved off, then added back, dozens of small changes that signified that the crafter had a goal, but was unable to achieve it.

  "I give up, I'll need more templates for this." A feminine voice emitted from the head, though the lips did not move. The lower body turned to flechy vines, incorporating itself into the mass around and other vines covered the torso. Perceus would have chuckled at the vines coiling on themselves to form the appearance of breasts but coal black eyes opened and gazed into him.

  "Hmm. I haven't had enough time to deal with you yet, little assassin." She 'walked' towards him, tendrils pulling her body forwards until she was right before him.

  "A tool that failed in it's purpose. Unfortunate for you, but that means that my hate is not for you directly." She looked into his eyes, falling quiet and stilling. Perceus noticed her chest did not move with breath.

  "You want to use me for something." Perceus muttered, feeling that he was puppeted into this by her.

  "Yes, though I will introduce myself first." She gave the appearance of a curtsy, "I am the one known as Aria Taravyna and they call me a goddess. I swear that if you participate in my schemes then I will take no action to actively harm you outside of it and release you once the purpose is finished, or when two years have passed."

  The oath filled his mind and through the mana perception given by his illusionist class he saw that this oath was binding on her soul.

  "And if I disagree?"

  "Then you are an enemy combatant. You should be able to figure out the rest."

  So the choice was that. Accept and become her tool or refuse and simply die.

  "Might I ask questions?"

  "You may, but my time is not limitless."

  "What would you have me do?"

  "Assist with my research. Through this you will not try to escape or contact your compatriots. If you assist I will be willing to attempt to save two of your companions that still exist in the chain."

  "And the research is?"

  "Proper disconnection from the Adras system. And the curing of a specific form of manaflu."

  "So I will be a guinea pig?"

  "Yes. Probably the only one that I will have available while it matters. My more dangerous tests have been done earlier so your risks are much lower than refusing."

  "What's your method of dealing with manaflu?"

  "Starve the disease and allow the body to naturally fight it. A disastrous system curse seems to do the job effectively."

  How would she know that unless-

  "You've got someone who you want to do this to. But you're not completely certain. Do I have it right?"

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Aria looked at him with an impassive face and then grinned. Her teeth were needlelike.

  "Precisely."

  "So it's that mage."

  "The Archmage. I intend to replicate the Adras system so he will be immune to those curses and have extra power if he's desperate. You would get the same."

  She looked up and back, letting Perceus get a moment to draw a dagger from his Stash and plunging it into her back. She made no reaction.

  "Silly boy," the sound came from by his ear, "That thing is not me, not yet. But I will give you a last chance to answer. My master awakens."

  There was no real choice in it to be made.

  "I accept."

  ---

  The afternoon light got in Taramo's eye and he felt a piercing headache. His body felt like someone took a meat tenderizer to his whole body and he was barely able to sit up.

  One of Ariwyn's vines was connected to his wrist and when he turned his hand over he then felt the smaller growths that were inserted into his inner wrist.

  He tried to see if it was directly connected to his veins but the mana he tried to grab slid through his grip like greased marble held in a pair of chopsticks. It also renewed the strength of the migrane and when he fell back onto his bed he smacked his head on the wall. The wall was brick.

  Taramo felt the door open and footsteps arriving by his bedside. He could not hear or understand anything that was said but strong and soft hands picked him up and settled him better in the bed. His face was wiped gently with a moist cloth and a leather sack with scalding hot sand was tucked under his blanket, pressing and giving a warm presence to bolster his body.

  ---

  After an unknown amount of time he found his migrane weakening and his consciousness gradually returned so he didn't know when he was fully aware of his surroundings.

  "He's awake. I will leave him to you." An elderly and maternal voice preceeded the scratching of his chair being unburdened and returned to it's place. When the door opened a movement of air made a sweet perfume apparent to his nose. He opened his eyes and sat up, bracing himself against the wall in case he fell again.

  "It's a terrible thing to lose, mana." Ariwyn spoke and pressed a small filament into Taramo's grip. "You must understand what ails you."

  He took it and, after a few attempts, was able to poke around this new thing that was latched on his mana.

  One part held a list of information.

  Name- Betrayer

  Class- Warlock

  Race- (unknown)

  Level- (-255)

  Status-

  -Mana Cursed: The user has betrayed the trust of the System and has lost the right to access mana because of it.

  Mana regeneration -1000%

  Mana drain- 50% of Max /minute

  -Body cursed: The user has betrayed the trust of the System and has lost the right to access physical System buffs because of it.

  Physical modifier x0

  There were other statistics that buzzed with a sense of wrongness that suggested they ought to have had some information but lacked it.

  "What happened?" Taramo asked.

  "A priest of Adras cursed you. It was an oversight on my part because I thought they couldn't force the system onto someone, but they found a means to do so."

  "Can this be reversed?" There had to be a way. He could barely do anything with no mana.

  "Yes. What was done to you broke every fundamental rule of the Adras system so if we could get Adras to know of it we would soon have justice. The problem is that the only means we have to connect to Adras in a reasonably quick time is the person who sent the attack on you." She continued.

  "But I know there are ways to disconnect you from the System and alter your information. That Priest had to have done it so your situation is hidden from Adras, even though he keeps a connection to the main system through himself."

  "So this priest is acting like a wizard's tower, but for this system information?"

  "He is. He's spent the last few thousand years here and I feel that he was probably the force that sealed the vault away from mana flow. I have had some altercations with him before so I expect he would be much more forwards if he actually believed that I was here. He must think you are some enchanter to be hiding your lies from the Pitarav."

  "So we have an enemy of a lying schemer."

  "Who has access to unimaginable amounts of power. Adras has removed himself from the needs of petty politics through his system. One of his priests, when given proper authority, has the strength to stand toe to toe with an archmage and their retinue. One of them killed an archmage in a war two decades ago."

  "So how can we beat him? I can't use my mana and even when I can that disease will spread."

  "Manaflu. It is deliterious, but look at yourself closely."

  Taramo looked into his own hand through the mana of Ariwyn, who helped form a simple medical divination. The pustules as a result of manaflu were smaller than they had been before his cursing which seemed impossible.

  "So you removed them and they're growing back."

  "I did not remove them yet. If we had the time we might have been able to get rid of the manaflu entirely without surgical procedures, but you will probably need to be in the action before the time for natural recovery would be reasonable. There are some manaless processes that might only make the recovery a handful of days instead of weeks."

  "And that priest? Do I need to use my deadly skill to dispose of him."

  "Not necessarily. I can make a mana package that would inform all the other priests and Adras of this priest's behaviour. Doing that would at the very least make sure that he was taken away and wouldn't return here. He would be too prejudiced to be an impartial arbiter."

  Taramo thought for a moment.

  "Does the priest have a name."

  "No. The priest's of Adras are required to give up their names and pasts to be incorruptable and unprejudiced for their judgements. It isn't foolproof but I haven't heard of another case, which could make this the exception or just a result of the innate corruption of power."

  "And the packet?"

  "We would just need to connect it to the mana stream that the priest has connecting them to the system. It would be about as hard if he's actively fighting or unaware since the connection grows when they use a lot of mana. It would be hard to connect it but if we could manage then we wouldn't need to defeat him. You could probably beat him but it might be a fair fight."

  "Good. So what will we do now?" Taramo moved his feet to place them on the floor, only requiring moderate help from Ariwyn's vines.

  "We get the local apothecary. I've just communicated with him. He should have some spare time, though he will probably go to sleep soon."

  Taramo looked at the early afternoon light that flowed through the window. Who would start to sleep in the middle of the day?

  "He's a ... strange fellow. But he's quite skilled at whatever he put's his mind to. I think his regular job around here is to be a baker."

  A gentle knock came at the door.

  "Come in." Ariwyn called and a man as tall and wide as a brick wall carefully made their way through the door. He was carrying three crates of materials he carefully put down and set up painstakingly. A copper cauldron was set up and filled with crystal clear water just to have a handful of clay added to it.

  "You need medicine? No mana?"

  "Yes." Ariwyn was taking charge here, carefully coaxing Taramo back into his bed.

  [The man has extreme passion for his craft. The medicine will work exceptionally. The taste ... you will survive.]

  The baker added a handful of wilted herbs that smelled as if they were very moldy. The brew's smell was not enhanced by the addition.

  ---

  "Now you will need to drink all of this. Quick, before it is cold."

  Taramo gave the semi-sludge a look.

  "Little Aria was right to ask me. I am ready for reticence." The baker took out a funnel with a tube. Something apparently meant to overfeed some fowl in order to fatten them up.

  Taramo did his utmost to resist the baker. Whether he could do so with his mana could be in doubt. Without it-

  He couldn't even hurt himself trying.