by Erik Colombe
“What level of trouble?” Saarka asked.
“Probably more than I can handle. How fast can we get out of this city?”
“The merchant guild and adventurer’s guild are the same building. If we skip the goodbyes and pleasantries we can go in with Vihpier, get our paperwork notarized and be on our way. We can be gone inside of an hour from when we reach the guild.”
“OK, I’ll trust you to get it done. I’ll let Mihel know we’re leaving,” John said.
He jogged up to the front where B’narld, Clem and Mihel were sitting looking weary from the long road they had just traveled.
“You guys look like hell,” John said.
The three of them snapped their attention to him. He could see B’narld and Clem’s jaws drop while Mihel glared at him with an appraising eye.
“John, what happened to you back there? We saw you disappear into the forest and then the arrows just stopped. We didn’t see anything and only heard the howl of some kind of beast. We were going to come back for you, but Saarka convinced us to run,” Mihel said.
“Mihel’s leaving out the best part. As soon as he saw you run in alone Mihel grabbed a battle-axe and broke through that log in five giant swings. He kept shouting at us that we needed to go after you.” B’narld said.
“Really? Were you that worried about me old man?” John asked.
“I would have done the same for anyone stupid enough to rush an ambush. They’re obviously not right in the head and going to get themselves killed.”
John laughed.
“Don’t worry old man, I’m pretty hard to kill,” John said. “Regardless, there’s going to be trouble in Fort Light. Saarka and me are going to be gone as soon as our paperwork clears. It would be best if you weren’t seen hanging around with me.”
“Smeg’s shit,” Mihel cursed. “You don’t abandon your comrades. We are adventurers and we don’t run.”
“Then you’ll die,” John said, as matter of factly as he could. “I appreciate the sentiment. I really do, but I’m not sticking around long enough for this person to find me and neither should you. He only wants me. There’s no sense dying over idiotic ideals. I’ll be fine.”
Mihel made a “Humph” sound and looked away.
John stopped walking and let the horses go ahead. He waited until Saarka had caught up and he got aboard the cart.
“Doesn’t sound like it was a happy goodbye,” Saarka said.
“Damn fool thinks he’s some kind of hero sticking up for those in his care. Idiot’s going to get himself killed.”
“Aye, I know the type,” Saarka said.
They reached Fort Light and the caravan headed to the Merchant and Adventurer’s Guild. Fort Light still had the feeling of an old town with the cobblestone road, shops made from unpainted boards, the bank made from brick and the wooden sidewalks being heavily traversed. There was something about the town that was bugging John as the caravan walked through the large main street. There were plenty of people around early in the morning getting ready to start the day. Not many paid them much attention. The morning was in full swing and people were busy with their own business. It was when they were opening the doors to the guide that John realized what was wrong. Everyone had been giving the caravan a wide berth and the adventurer’s guild didn’t have a soul entering or exiting. There was no traffic; no waiting. He ran forward as Vihpier had already dismounted from his cart and was opening the door to the guild with Mihel right behind him. John got there just as they opened the door and it was too late.
The doors from the guild ripped themselves off the frame as an invisible power rode outward like an ocean wave and crashed into the caravan. John caught the brunt of it and he saw a notification of Minus 1,500 appear under his health bar. He looked behind him to see that everyone was lying on the ground. No one was moving; everyone looked dead. He saw Mihel twitch and heard Clyde whinny, but everyone else was as still as the grave. A man with wild red hair on the side of his head and a giant bald patch walked out. He had a crooked nose, and John could see that he had two different colored eyes; a blue and a yellow. He wore a grey robe and held his arms open while he walked out of the guild.
“Hi John. I’ve been waiting for you,” Ryan said.
“What did you do?” John yelled.
“Just a little present for you, after all it seemed only fair since you killed Mike.”
“He didn’t leave me a choice.”
“And neither will I,” Ryan said, revealing his hands ready to cast a spell.
John cast haste on his body and rammed himself into Ryan, forcing both of them into the guild building. John kept the man on the ground and started to punch him in his face, aiming for the bridge of the nose. Every time John’s fist came down onto Ryan’s face he saw a thin blue barrier light-up, blocking his attack. Ryan just started laughing.
“John, this isn’t a high-school fight behind the bleachers. This is a fight of gods,” Ryan said, as he levitated upright and John jumped off of him, backing away.
John summoned a trident from his inventory. He saw a notification appear in his vision.
Icria’s Guard’s Trident Equipped/AKA the Mage Killer
A trident used by the guards of Icria. While equipped all magic is sealed. The Mage Killer eats mana from enemies and dissipates it into the air. 100 mana is eaten every second/strike.
John used his analyze skill on Ryan.
Name: Ryan
Level: 98
Magic: Levitation, Force, Summon Wraith, various destruction magic…
Class: Human/Hero
Equipment: Robes of the master. Give an additional 3,000 mana and increase mana refresh rate by 10 points per second.
Note: Seriously what is happening? You’re going to get your ass kicked. Run!
Ryan summoned wraiths next to him. They were ethereal floating hooded figures with claw talons for hands and an empty hood that held an endless black abyss instead of a head. John didn’t stand still for long. He took his trident and ran straight into Ryan, but the wraiths moved faster than he did and blocked his path. He stabbed at them with the trident and they screamed as it pierced through them. John kept striking them and, while the trident dealt damage, it just passed through them, allowing them to get closer to him and claw their way at his health bar.
They were backing John into a corner and he could see Ryan still smiling, summoning more of them.
“You know, Mike loved a fair fight. Me, I’m more shock and awe,” Ryan said, summoning two more of the wraiths into existence and sending them after John.
“Go to hell,” John yelled. He hurled the trident at Ryan, effectively unequipping it. He cast haste on his feet to dodge the wraiths as he didn’t have anything effective against the wraiths in his inventory. The game he played didn’t have them, so he was against an element he didn’t have control over.
He looked up to see Ryan pulling the trident out of his stomach; there was no blood.
“What’s wrong John, why so angry? Did I kill your friends?” Ryan said, in a mocking manner like a cartoon children’s show asking about a bruise.
“Fuck off,” John said, casting a fireball at Ryan, who let it hit him and John saw it do damage as he dodged around the room, avoiding the wraiths as he kited the enemy into a single line. He didn’t have anything effective, but the fireballs he slung went through the wraiths, doing damage to all of them.
Ryan dismissed the wraiths and John turned to him. He had just finished drinking a purple liquid from a glass vial and threw it to the ground before he belched.
“Damn things taste like flat diet soda.”
John stared at Ryan, his jaw open.
“Oh, what’s wrong John, you didn’t bring any health and mana potions from your game? What a shame. That’s what happens when you spend all your time caring for NPCs and not preparing for the boss fight.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” John said, trying to keep Ryan talking to catch his breath.
&
nbsp; “Those people out there are nothing John; there were only four real people in this world and you killed one of them. When I’m done with you there will only be two real people in a world full of NPCs.”
“You’re insane! Those people are real,” John said.
“No! This world is nothing but a game and everything in it is fake. I haven’t killed anyone, but you John, you’re a murderer.”
Ryan threw up his hands and John saw ethereal weapons appear around him, all of them pointing at John.
John equipped the Sword of Kayaught and started to curse himself for never picking up a shield in his game, but he always played to deal as much damage as possible.
Ryan released the barrage of weapons at him. They all flew straight into the air, sticking into the wall, tables and chairs. John moved as fast as he could to get behind cover, but his legs screamed at him as ethereal spears ripped through them and he stumbled to the ground. His health bar was flashing at 2,000 and was slowly regenerating, but he wouldn’t be able to handle another one of those. He saw that Ryan was already pulling another glass vial out of his robes. John slashed his sword at the ethereal weapons that pinned him and they disappeared. He put the Sword of Kayaught away and summoned the Hammer of Dawn from his inventory, then swung the giant hammer straight at Ryan, breaking the vial. Ryan turned to see John rushing him and pinning him to the ground again.
“Really John, this is just too much…”
John didn’t wait for him to finish; he covered Ryan’s face with his hand and cast his fireball spell over and over again. They kept blowing up in his hand against Ryan’s face and he smiled when he saw Ryan’s arms and legs thrash against his weight, until an invisible wave crashed against John and threw him against the far wall.
Ryan got up and was seething with rage. Part of the flesh on his face was gone, revealing bone.
“How dare you!” Ryan said, the bone slowly starting to recover and flesh growing over it.
“I’m sorry, did I hurt your feelings?” John said, mockingly.
“You could have been a part of us. You could have been one to rule over everything, why are you doing this?”
“I just want to go home! Fuck this world and fuck you. If everything here is fake why didn’t you just go home?” John yelled back. They were both low on mana and health now. They were buying time; the first to regenerate enough for an attack was going to have the advantage.
“You think we didn’t look? You think we don’t know? The Capital; the realm of the Demon King. Our way home is there.”
“Then why are you fighting me? Let me just go home,” John said.
“If you are going to die, it’s going to be by my hands, murderer. The capital is ruled by the Demon King. The one who fought and locked away the god that summoned us. Do you think we have a chance against something like that?”
John laughed in Ryan’s face.
“I get it now. I thought you were all trying to be rulers of this world. Bend it to your will. You’re all just cowards. You’re trying to live out your little fantasies, pretending that this world is fake, all while you refuse to move forward.”
“Believe what you want. Your friends are nothing. Their life is meaningless; this world is just a facsimile to a board game. Nothing here matters and soon neither will you.”
John’s hands tightened into fists and he thought of the Rahka, the slaves Mike had made and Saarka’s death. What else had they done under the guise that this world was just a game?
“You listen to me you sniveling piece of shit. You are about to fucking die millions of miles away from your home, family and anyone who ever took pity enough to love you. You do not get to say her life was meaningless, that she was nothing and had nothing. She was a friend; my friend and you took that from me.”
The walls in the room started to collapse as John’s mana ran wild. He couldn’t focus on anything and his remaining mana lashed at everything and anything. His mana bar was draining 150 points a second trying to keep up with his rage. He opened his palm to see the raging fire burning on it; his skin sizzled and popped from the burns, but this was nothing to him. He had already gone numb from the anger inside of him. He held up the simple fireball so that Ryan could see it and his mangled hand.
He released it and felt a wave of relief as it slowly drifted out of his hand. It was a coalition of his anger, slow and burning. It drifted only a foot every few seconds and Ryan laughed at it.
John congealed his anger and brought the full weight of his mana down on Ryan, making him kneel.
“Die on your knees.”
John could see Ryan struggling to move. Wind blew away debris as Ryan used his magic to try and break free to grab another recovery potion from his inventory. John’s mana bar finally ran out, but he didn’t stop. Instead he watched the last of his health start to drop as his mana was gone.
Take it all and see if I care, John thought. He couldn’t stop now. If he did, he would pass out and he was sure Ryan had at least one more recovery potion.
The fireball was inches from Ryan’s face as he turned and lashed out at the invisible bonds that held him. The fire touched his skin and he screamed.
“Stop it. Stop it! Please stop…” his words trailed off as the fire ate through his tongue and his mind. John could smell cooking meat before his health bar hit zero and he collapsed onto the floor. The fire that was his rage was immediately snuffed out. John was numb; he lay on the ground with his heart laboring to beat until it stopped trying altogether and then his vision fading to black as his mind drifted away.
John lay on the ground dead.
Blue energy started to coalesce against his leather armor, pulling at John’s body and raising him into the air then slamming him back down to the wooden floor violently. Electricity crackled and sparked around him as his body spasmed and his heart started to beat again.
John woke up taking a deep breath and started to cough. His body ached and he retched as his mind was pulled back from the abyss.
Notification: Resurrection enchantment successful.
“What the hell?” John said, activating his analyze skill to tell him more.
Resurrection enchantment. If the wearer of Icria’s Lost City Uniform health falls to zero, the uniform will attempt to resurrect the player through electrical cardioversion.
John looked at the floor where he landed and saw the lines of lightning that had burned themselves into the wood.
Chance of success is not measured by percentage and cannot be increased.
Note: Your suit fucking electrocuted your heart. You were dead; I am sick of your shit! Do that again and your heart is fried!
“Seriously, who the hell are you?”
Get to the end of the rabbit hole and I’ll tell your bitch ass.
John dismissed the notification.
Did my skill’s personality change? Are skills supposed to have a personality? John wondered, as he went over to Ryan’s body. He was sore and moved slowly, but determined to find what he needed. He sifted through Ryan’s robes and found an inventory screen. There wasn’t much, but John took everything he had.
There was no one in the streets anymore. It might as well have been abandoned. Like the whole place was holding its breath waiting to see who came out of the guild. When John walked out he saw Mihel standing over the dead with a hammer in one hand watching the door like a silent guardian. Clyde stood next to him. Everyone and everything else was dead.
“John, what in the nine hells was that?” Mihel asked.
“I told you there was trouble.” John said. He looked Mihel over and saw that the man was on the verge of death. It was amazing that he was even standing. John saw that it was the same for Clyde.
He gave Mihel a red vial that he had pulled from Ryan’s inventory. The only one that was left.
“Here, drink this. I hear it tastes gross, but it will get you back on your feet,” John said, handing it to Mihel, avoiding eye contact. He walked over to Clyde and took out the las
t fruit he had from the Dark Forest.
“This worked for you last time,” John said, feeding Clyde the fruit, though he didn’t have enough mana to even cast heal on the horse. He needed to sleep, but there was one more person he needed to take care of.
John walked over to Saarka where she lay on the ground; she looked like she was sleeping, but her chest didn’t move and her arms were limp as John rolled her over to lay on her back. He pulled a leaf out of his inventory and placed it on Saarka’s chest. It was large, about the size of his hand and still held a bright green hue despite having been in Ryan’s inventory for years. The leaf crumbled into dust and glowed a bright white light as it sunk into Saarka.
Name: Leaf of the World Tree.
Effect: Revives a dead ally.
Cannot be automatically used by the holder. Not of this world and irreplaceable.
Too bad Ryan only had one, John thought as he saw Saarka take a deep breath and open her eyes. She saw John and smiled for a moment before she bolted upright and scooted away from him, like she was trying to run away from the devil itself.
“What happened? What did you do?” she asked venomously, looking at the dead bodies surrounding her.
“I brought you back to life. It was a trap; as soon as the doors opened everyone was dead. Ryan was waiting for us. He didn’t care about anyone. I saved you,” John said, holding out his hand to Saarka.
She slapped it away.
“And that’s supposed to make it all better? Look at everyone who’s dead because of you! How could you let this happen?” she screamed at him.
“You wanted to come along. What did you think was going to happen? We’d all have ice cream, make friends, rescue a princess? No! People are trying to kill me, and you wanted to come along,” John said.
“I came for the money.”
“And you got it. You could have left. Why Saarka? Why did you come along?”
“It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters anymore, because of you.”