Soulcatcher

by Sergey Zaytsev

  "Could you be a little less vague? What do you mean, 'won't get what we need'?" Wincing, I jerked my shoulder free. Having in mind how strong he was, he was probably being polite when he let me go. He smiled weakly even though the smile was just a shadow of the one that shone on his lips back at the inn.

  "A little patience, buddy. I'll tell you everything. Am I your mentor or what? It's what I do. But first, go to that 'Golem' over there."

  "Golem"? Did he mean that statue in the middle of the hall?

  I gave it a closer look. The statue, personifying a mighty, broad-shouldered warrior clad in full plate armor, was made of wood. It's "armor", covered in scratches left behind by various weapons and full of arrowhead holes, was in a sorry state. Was this the only training dummy? Informational support said the following: "the Class Determiner." Things just kept getting more and more interesting.

  "Yes, yes, go towards him," Grant nodded, catching the direction of my gaze. "Go to him and stand back to back."

  "But, why?"

  "I told you I'd explain. Move it, Wise! Just do as I say."

  I approached the statue with caution. It was even more impressive up close than it was from the entrance. It was around eight feet tall and the top of my head barely reached its breastplate. It stood still, gripping the handle of a huge two-handed "sword", its tip pressed against the stone floor. Through the slits of its visor, carved in the form of a grinning wolf's muzzle, the "Golem" "looked" fiercely at the world around him. The wolf had some impressive teeth. He seemed unlikely to attack. Given his size, he could easily crush me or bite off my head. Just kidding. The craftsmanship was simply amazing. All joints, straps and rivets looked real. It was a pity that such a work of art was being used as a training dummy. "Look how badly you damaged the surface, you damn pests," I thought.

  "Grab the 'Uniq' from the bag," Grant commanded once I was done admiring and had my back turned to the statue.

  "Grab... What?"

  "Oh, you don't know? 'S.W.E.A.T' actually stands for 'Starter's Weapon Template'. We simply call it 'Uniq'."

  "You could have just said 'grab the stick'," I fished the required item out of the backpack.

  "You won't find anything better than that stick," Grant assured expertly. "Trust me, 'Uniq' won't disappoint you. Now, do exactly as I say. Close your eyes." Making sure that I followed his instructions, he continued: "Now imagine the weapon you would arm yourself with… One you'd like... I really hope that you prefer melee weapons, we'll both benefit from it."

  Melee? I had no problems with that. This "Golem" pal, for example, had a very impressive toy in his hands; I wouldn't mind a similar one…

  "S.W.E.A.T", which I was squeezing with both hands, suddenly got warmer. It was getting hotter and heavier with each passing second.

  "Keep your eyes closed!" Grant warningly raised his voice. "Think! Let the imagination work!"

  Something stirred underneath my palms, forcing me to loosen my grip. Straining my muscles, I gripped tighter. What was going on...? "Wise!" Grant suddenly barked. "Turn around! Behind you!"

  I felt something massive move behind me. If I still had hair on my head, it'd stand on its end. The sound of creaking wood was growing louder. There was nothing alive here, only the wooden "Golem"…

  The wooden "Golem"?!

  Eyes wide open in shock, I forced myself to move. Turning around, I tried to defend myself with a long, glowing sword that appeared in my hands seemingly out of nowhere. The giant two-handed sword of the revived statue flew towards my face, intending to cut off my silly head clean. I countered its attack. The slit visor burned with living fire, its gaze full of hatred.

  Steel and wood collided with a deafening screech. Sparks flew through the air.

  My sword was thrown aside with uncontrollable force. Having lost my balance, I fell to my knee, knowing that I was fucked. One more strike from the "Golem" and… Suddenly, I saw it standing frozen in the middle of the swing. Returning to its wooden state, the lights in its visor slowly faded away. The glow of my sword faded, too, turning it into a simple piece of iron.

  Leaning onto the blade and feeling treacherously weak in the knees, I slowly got up. I felt like my quick reflexes saved me from certain death. The system message flashed:

  Congratulations! You've been assigned the "warrior" class!

  You got offensive-type specialization "elemental warrior"!

  "Elemental warrior" is able to defeat his enemies using both his blade and the forces of natural elements – Fire, Water, and Air. "Elemental warrior" is able to fight from afar, stunning the enemy with magical attacks, as well as end the fight with mighty blows of weapons charged with the power of the forces of nature.

  Note: Each skill point invested in the "elemental warrior" spec increases your damage by 1%.

  "Not bad. Congrats."

  Sensing slight frustration in Grant's voice, I looked at him in bewilderment. My mentor came closer, patted me on the shoulder and smiled, albeit not as tensely as before.

  "Spare me the lousy jokes" I gasped with difficulty, still shaking from adrenaline boiling in my blood.

  "I was hoping you'd get this class – warrior," Grant admitted. "But your spec, 'Warrior of the Elements', was not exactly what I expected. Still, it's pretty good. Activate your starter skills, get used to them. It's time for us to move on."

  Not listening to him, I observed my sword. Loosening the tight grip on the handle, I almost reverently ran my fingertips over the blade; its light was fading slowly, almost reluctantly. The rough steel felt warm. Living. The sword felt like an extension of my hand.

  The system gave me more helpful information.

  "Old Blade of a Fallen Warrior"

  Type: bastard sword

  Durability: 30/30

  Damage: 4-10 (cutting); 3-8 (slashing)

  Rarity: unique

  Restricted to: "warrior" class

  Soulbound

  The blade was about two and a half feet long, and almost as wide as a butcher's cleaver. Only one side was sharpened. The guard was narrow, with ends curved towards the tip of the sword to intercept the enemy's blade. The handle, wrapped in leather, ended with a massive spherical pommel that had slightly flattened sides. Knowledge needed to wield the weapon appeared in my mind on its own. The pommel was an important element for balance. Should the palm slip off the handle in the heat of a battle, the pommel would prevent the weapon from slipping out of one's hands. Additionally, if anyone got too close, one could bash their teeth in with it. "Soulbound" apparently meant that I wouldn't lose it if I die.

  Gazing towards the edge, still leaned against the floor, I found out that instead of my sneakers I was looking at a pair of leather boots. With growing astonishment, I inspected my dramatically changed clothes. The fabric had darkened and roughened, acquiring the structure of poorly studded leather. Moreover, the items had additional stats. Turns out, all I had to do was choose a class!

  "Thin Leather Jacket of the Novice"

  Defense: 25

  Durability: 25/25

  "Fine Leather Pants of the Novice"

  Defense: 22

  Durability 22/22

  "Thin Leather Belt of the Novice"

  Defense: 8

  Durability: 8/8

  "Thin Leather Boots of the Novice"

  Defense: 15

  Durability: 15/15

  Judging by the stats, defense was directly linked to durability, which, naturally, decreased with time and use. Gear should either be repaired or replaced in time. It'd be unwise to find yourself butt naked while being attacked by a mob of bloodthirsty enemies. I noticed that one of my main stats had changed and that the energy had doubled and was now at one hundred points.

  "Done admiring?" Grant's mocking voice jerked me out of my thoughts. "Finally, we come to the 'skill tree'. Open it and activate your abilities."

  The "skill tree" was more like a "tree branch" with only two available skills. I mentally clicked on them.

  "Sea
ring Flash"

  Combat ability

  Rank 1 (0/100)

  Deals 10-15 points of additional fire damage on physical attack. Gives 1 attack point.

  Type of action: instant

  Range: melee

  "Tempest Blade"

  Buff

  Rank 1 (0/100)

  Combat abilities have 25% chance of dealing additional air damage.

  Type of action: instant

  Duration: 1h

  Not bad for a start. A single combat ability and a fairly sensible buff that should, in theory, allow me to enhance my every fourth attack. That "Flash" skill caused more damage than my weapon did. Was my sword that weak or was my magic just stronger? Was I yet to find the balance between magic and physical damage? I was yet to figure out what "attack points" were. I couldn't wait to test the skills, but I didn't want to risk using them on the "Golem". It was definitely not meant for training. Not to mention that it was dangerous.

  "Am I gonna carry the sword in my hand the entire time?" I asked, since I didn't have a scabbard.

  "Of course not," Grant said, dismissing my concerns. "How do you think I carry my staff during long travels?"

  "No idea. You have been carrying it in your hand so far."

  With a lenient smile, Grant threw the staff over his shoulder and turned his back to me. Nothing held the shaft of his staff; it just hovered a couple of inches away from his clothes.

  "Interesting," I admitted, with a hint of admiration. "It uses the same power source you mentioned before?"

  He nodded. "Apparently. It's called an 'Energy Lock'. Damn convenient. Otherwise, you'd get tired from carrying weapons no matter if they were in your hand or on your shoulder."

  "True. Doesn't it hit your feet when you walk, though?"

  "Surprisingly, no. The only drawback is that you have to hold it in your hands if you get tired. It might fall off, otherwise."

  The system became more helpful now that I had found out my class. I was finally given more information about my mentor.

  Player: Grant

  Level 7

  Race: human

  Class: mage

  Specialization: floromancer

  "Hey, Grant, what's a floromancer?"

  "A healer proficient with forces of nature," he said and winked.

  Not gonna lie, I was pleased with my mentor's specialization. We were going to make a great combo – a damage dealer and a healer. At such a low level, I was definitely safe under the protection of a player six levels above me. However, something was bothering me. I did not hesitate to take advantage of the silence that followed.

  "You promised to enlighten me about your problem with the clans."

  Grant made an annoyed face, waved, and headed towards the exit. I ran after him and followed him out. Only then did he grace me with an explanation.

  "Wise, I'll answer all of your questions about clans and my problem with them only after I see you in action. I need to know what kind of a man and a fighter you are. Savvy? One thing is for sure – tonight, if you do everything right, I'll help you gain two, maybe even three levels. Sounds good?"

  What a generous offer.

  I slowly looked around my surroundings and took a deep breath of the fresh night air that smelled of sweet herbs. Vegetation, in which the fairies lived, wasn't shining as brightly as before. The village gradually sank into the darkness, like a ship into the watery depths. The feeling of an impending storm, which had settled in my soul since I left the inn, grew stronger. There was no doubt about it; it was going to rain soon. From afar came a muffled thunderclap that swept over the village. .A gust of wet wind followed a few second later, rustling the leaves on the bushes.

  I was starting to like this world more and more. I liked the feeling of my new body and how everything was arranged. I also liked how everything looked, even though it was night and little could be seen in detail. It just meant that daytime would be even better! What was this suspicious euphoria? Was the "vitamin" still working?

  Screw that.

  Also, screw the message I got from myself at the inn. After all, I had three lives. Since my killer was as clueless as I was about this whole thing, trying to guess his identity would be a waste of time and nerves. I'll solve that problem when the enemy strikes the first blow and reveals himself.. Grant's support will come in handy and our friendship will be cemented.

  Right now, I craved action. My hesitation had come to an end.

  "I'll gladly to accept your offer, Grant."

  "Finally," sighed the mage, somewhat exhausted. We sealed the deal with a strong handshake. "Well, then, time for your first quest."

  Player Grant offers to share the plot quest "A Loyal Friend"

  Accept: yes / no?

  Chapter 4

  "The legend of 'The Destroyer'"

  "Approach them from the left side!" Grant instructed loudly, keeping his distance as he watched me move closer to a group of "Warthogs". Wading through the bushes, I snuck up from the rear. "Attract them to yourself!"

  His voice resounded far in the quiet night. Oddly enough, the "Warthogs" didn't seem to hear him. The three, not particularly large, animals resembled pigs. Grunting gutturally, they were busily digging the ground near the root of a mighty tree with their snouts. Did they find something delicious or did they not hear the players invading their territory? Were they deaf?

  Warthog

  Level 1

  HP: 85

  "I don't need experience gained from killing them. You, however, do. Desperately. Get to work!" Grant's shout shook the whole forest yet again.

  The first animal mobs in my gaming life. It was a pack of three against one. I knew that as soon as I hit one, the others would immediately declare bloody vengeance against me. Although the night sky provided me with decent light, it was hard to see them. How did Grant manage to notice them from the road? It was easy for him to bark commands. Being a level seven healer, level one mobs wouldn't notice him even if he came close. Loopholes of game mechanics. On the other hand, he had enough time to heal me in case something went wrong.

  I had nothing to fear.

  Approaching them wasn't easy. Traveling by the road, flat as a board, under the clear sky was an easy task. Wading through the bushes in pitch darkness, with invisible branches smacking your face, not so much. Luckily, I could see their vague silhouettes, swarming near the tree trunk. Dark mass against a dark background.

  "Wise! Come on!"

  "I think your screams will attract a lot more attention than my presence," I grumbled under my breath. Unfortunately, his hearing was sharp.

  "Don't talk, attack!" Grant's shout was so loud that it seemed to shake the treetops.

  Sword raised, I jumped out of the bushes and rushed towards the mobs.

  They noticed me. Three surprised snouts turned in my direction. My hand froze at the last second, and I almost missed. Somehow, it felt wrong to kill peaceful creatures. Regardless, the blade still swung downwards and plunged itself into the back of the neck of the first victim, striking the fatal blow. The system happily reported:

  The "Warthog" has been slain!

  Experience earned: 146

  Current experience: 146/1000

  Added entry to the bestiary: "Warthog"

  Show: yes / no?

  While I struggled to pull the sword out of the carcass, the other two root-eaters, losing their neutrality, rushed at me and bit my boots. Their bite was as strong as a bulldog's. I felt their teeth pierce through the leather and graze my flesh.

  Warthog used "A Simple Bite" on Wisecracker.

  Current HP: 99/100

  You receive 5x2 pts of physical damage (9 pts absorbed).

  That was it?! A single point of damage from both of them?

  I liked my defense! With a crunchy sound, the blade broke free from its victim and blood sprayed through the air. With slight anger in my swing, I stabbed the other two in the same manner. No need to spoil my boots, I planned on wearing them for some ti
me. When the squeals subsided, my experience increased greatly and was now at 438 out of 1000 points. Experience was always easy to find and abundant at first. Hungrily, almost greedily, I looked around, searching for a new target and new trophies. Sadly, the forest was empty.

  "Happy?" Shaking off the blood, I turned to my mentor who had appeared behind me like a ghost.

  "That was just a test battle." Grant looked at me with a cheerful smile. "Only a dumbass would have lost. Luckily, you are not a dumbass. That will come in handy…"

  "Yeah. I'll come in handy, but come out handless. Are we just going to leave them here? Are they not worth something as a trophy? It'd be a pity to dispose of them like that."

  "Level one mobs, no loot from them. You could use them for food. Somehow, I doubt you're hungry."

  I flinched, imagining myself gutting the carcass with a sword for a piece of raw, bloody meat.

  I waved my hand, "No, I'm not hungry."

  "Usually, the bodies disintegrate into components on their own. However, that takes a couple of hours. The rules say that we should speed up the process. No need to clutter up the area," Grant warned, raising his index finger. "Furthermore, 'dispel' accelerates the generation process of new mobs, as we won't be the first, or the last people training here. New players arrive every day."

  "Dispel?"

  "Yeah. Highlight any target and look at the system messages."

  I noticed the message.

  Dispel the corpse: yes / no?

  I clicked "yes". Right in front of my eyes the warthogs' corpses began to fade, melting like pieces of ice in the sun. Their flesh thinned and bones broke through the skin before they crumbled into dust. In a blink of an eye, there was nothing but dust left of the animals that were just enjoying their nocturnal lives.

  "Interesting... So that's how the 'gathering' process works. What could a beast possibly drop?"

  "Meat. Scraps of leather. Other trash. This is a 'sandbox'. Everything you need has already been provided to you, so don't expect anything valuable from low-level mobs. All right, time to move on."

  "So what's your problem with the clans, Grant?" I returned the conversation to the topic of my interest as soon as we got back onto the road.