The Gods of the Second World (LitRPG The Weirdest Noob Book 3)

by Arthur Stone

  One would be so weak that even walking down a path following a flat terrain would tire one quickly. A gust of wind could sweep such a player off their feet. High resistance to magic, particularly control and spotting spells, wasn't much solace.

  The saddest thing was that one could drive one's target into fits, but still prove incapable of dispatching it. One's bow would be too weak, the arrows would be too light, and a single shot wouldn't do much damage. You'd have to make a hedgehog of your enemy—and every shot would put you in danger of being spotted. Killing a target in a shot or two, the way all the other archers did, wasn't an option.

  How on Earth did Thyri manage it? It wasn't that hard—she aimed for the most vulnerable spots, and, most likely, used everything she could to raise the chance of a critical hit. And even a weak critical hit can deal extreme damage. Deep wounds made by arrows were ideal for that; the problem, though, was that hitting the opponent anywhere wouldn't do the trick. One had to aim for really tiny areas. An inch to the side would mean a mere flesh wound.

  How could one accomplish something like that? As far as the bow was concerned, skill mattered most. It might sound banal, but the player should be in perfect control of their weapon. This is why many professional athletes with a solid background in archery IRL became successful as players of this class. Therefore, this wasn't a choice for everyone. If one has no natural predisposition for the bow, one would stay mediocre no matter how hard one tried. It would be better for such players to choose something easier, like the sword or sorcery.

  Thyri might have been an excellent archer IRL. Or she just had amazing skills. However, the negative aspects of her choice were the reason they could barely move forward now.

  Why didn't Ros abandon her the way he did the previous odd pair? Was it his fear of getting an arrow in his back?

  It was a tough question. It could have been that—or awareness that someone else would come to replace Thyri, and they'd be a much less pleasant companion.

  Walking together was fine. So far. And she had proved her usefulness to boot. Also, she made no overtures after their first exchange, respecting his privacy. Therefore, having a player like her on his side was to his benefit for the meantime.

  As they would go along together, Ros will pay close attention and try to find out what all those unpleasant characters needed—the ones that seemed to find him effortlessly, regardless of his location, and behaved in a weird manner.

  * * *

  They stopped for another short break under a sprawling pear tree growing where two forest paths had met. Ros wasn't tired at all. Instead of resting, he took a walk around their campsite trying to understand where exactly they were. He didn't have much success—he recognized nothing of the area. There were lots of errors on the maps from the game forum. The ones he could load in the game also lacked precision—many minor details were lacking from them. He had virtually no data on this area—he had never even gotten close to it, so it was one huge blank spot.

  In general, it was clear that they have left the front line behind them, so, in a while, they could turn west and keep on going in that direction until they reached the capital as intended.

  "Where do you plan to go next?" asked Thyri all of a sudden.

  Ros pointed to the left path.

  "That way should be best, I think."

  "No, we shouldn't go that way. Or, if we do, we shouldn't go far."

  "Why would that be?"

  "The ones I'd killed earlier on will be looking for us. They're Tarantulas. A very powerful clan. They never forgive something like that."

  "Like the clan has nothing better to do than to hunt some archer."

  "I've killed their players before. I'm in their black list."

  "Are you arachnophobic or something? Do you keep killing them all the time?"

  "I kill those whose names are written in red lettering. The clan doesn't concern me."

  "I get it. Do you collect the stuff PKs drop?"

  "I do. But my motivation isn't monetary gain."

  "Sure. One doesn't become wealthy by being blacklisted by every clan. I bet it isn't just the Tarantulas looking for you."

  "Their clan has a special ritual. Sometimes they check just how tough their players are, and how well they can solve the problems they may encounter in the game. They send them to some location with lots of newbies, and they have to kill them. Then they have to spend a lot of time washing the blood off their names, without the ability to enter any city, and risking losing everything in case of death."

  So that was her pet peeve. She decided that her role in the game would be to hunt the hunters. Most of those are players who had gotten really disgruntled about being killed without the opportunity of revenge back in their salad days. Some got really annoyed when they're casually disposed of by a character they could not so much as scratch.

  She had quite a few things in common with Macho Strongman and Nail-in-the-Head, but, on the other hand, she was completely different. Those two had no goals whatsoever—except, perhaps, to gorge themselves on good food, whereas Thyri was following certain principles, even if they were somewhat unorthodox. She also didn't give the impression of a silly chatterbox, whereas his earlier companions never shut up. Yet she was strange, he had to give her that.

  "So why is this path particularly dangerous?"

  "It leads to a large village, and it's kinda awkward to make a detour. Some Tarantulas representative will be there for sure—whenever they do a manhunt, they watch every town and village."

  That much sounded logical. No player could exist in a vacuum. They'd have to interact with the inhabitants of the world and not just the world itself. What would happen if you got hungry, but had no Cooking skill or any ingredients to use? Or, say, if you ran out of potions and could no longer level up your character? Alternatively, you could get a serious debuff that wouldn't leave you for longer than an hour, and failed to disappear, turning you into a helpless nobody. The solution would be to visit the nearest village and find a vendor or a healer. Then your problems would all go away.

  When there was a hunt for Ros, settlements were taken under the control the very first thing. That was the obvious thing to do—no one had enough resources to monitor every forest and every field.

  "You mean you know where we are?"

  "I sure do."

  "Have you unlocked Cartography?"

  "Why would you ask?"

  "I have mine unlocked. You could send me the part of your map that has this area on it, and I would reciprocate with the map of some area you haven't been to."

  "No point doing it. Just tell me where you want to go, and I'll guide you."

  Well, so much for that. Not that it was a pressing matter. So far, Ros was fine with such a guide.

  He had already come to terms with the oddities of his "chance" fellow travelers.

  "Have you had enough rest?"

  "I have."

  "Are you hungry, by any chance? I have some meat here—it's cold, though. If you manage to shoot something on the way, I can cook something hot."

  "Not yet, but thank you for your offer. I will remember it."

  She sounded like a talking doll sometimes. Completely void of emotion. But you could see something in her eyes, nevertheless.

  And that something didn't look joyous in the least.

  * * *

  "…it is presumed that a leak of propane was the cause. The explosion resulted in a fire that destroyed three apartments. Falling glass fragments hurt several passersby; two of them required medical assistance. A number of cars received slight damage as well. One of the residents is in intensive care with inhalation burns, and another was found dead in his apartment. No other deaths or damages have been reported.

  An interesting detail is that the deceased was discovered in the charred remnants of a virtual reality capsule. Unconfirmed sources identify the victim as Cody Mitchell. Neighbors describe him as a hard-working man who was employed by a major gaming corporation. It
is possible that he was involved in some work-related activity at the time of his death."

  The San Francisco Examiner, SF.

  Chapter 5

  Ros turned the thin strip of meat over, sprinkling some finely-chopped aromatic herbs over it, keeping an eye on how the fragments of dry leaves and stalks cooked in the fat exuded by the meat. Going over the top with the spices was never a good idea, but too few would make the meal too bland. Cooking was a lot less mechanical than one might have thought. In order to achieve the best result, one needed to think of every single action. Otherwise, one would get something absolutely revolting and virtually no progress in what was a truly useful stat instead of tasty meal—disgusting hodgepodge that would even be ignored by a ravenous dog.

  Thyri was nowhere to be found when Ros raised his head.

  They made their fire at a distance from a neat path that ran through a pristine pine forest with a sandy soil and lots of sunlight. There was nowhere to hide—all the trees were young, and none of them would provide sufficient disguise for a human body.

  However, a high-level Assassin could work wonders.

  So, where could his strange companion have gotten to? Had they been in real world, he could have presumed she'd gone to look for some privacy in the bushes. But this was a game, so there was no need for it. And she'd have to be really quick to get out of Ros's sight in just a few seconds.

  He barely managed to put two and two together after the sudden disappearance of his companion as he heard the sounds of hooves beating the ground. A pair of riders came into sight shortly afterwards.

  Well, they might have been riders, but their mounts weren't horses. One was riding an enormous moose with oversized antlers, while the other was carried by a creature that resembled a weird hybrid of an ostrich and a bipedal saurian.

  Nevertheless, Ros had seen riding pets that were a lot more exotic. If one's purse and one's persistence permitted it, one could ride virtually everything—there were plenty of mobs that could be used for transportation.

  Both riders stopped at once, staring at Ros. He stared at their names, in turn, instantly noticing similar clan icons next to their names—tiny black spiders with disproportionately large mandibles.

  So the Tarantulas were here, after all.

  They stared at Ros without saying anything for a few moments. Then the moose rider asked him,

  "Are you on your own?"

  The question was asked politely, and their names weren't in red lettering. Actually, the guys looked okay, but it still wouldn't be politic to tell the truth.

  Ros nodded.

  "Yeah, completely on my own."

  "Seen anyone around here?"

  "Had anyone been here, the smell would have attracted them already," Ros pointed at the crispy strip of meat.

  His interlocutor smiled,

  "Sure, it smells fine."

  Ros fibbed, "I'm leveling up my Cooking skill here. It's a nice place for it—lots of game, and I have hardly seen any dangerous critters anywhere."

  "You've been lucky. You can encounter all kinds of critters here. Haven't you heard about the invasion from the Locked Land?"

  "Everyone's heard of it, but it's way down south, isn't it?"

  "Some creatures from the Locked Lands have managed to get far enough to the north. You have them in front of you, and on your sides, so you might have an encounter anytime."

  "Really? This is the first time I'm hearing anything of this sort. I must have gotten out of everything over here."

  "What's the meat? Whom did you kill? And how did you do it? What's your role in the game, anyway? Answ—"

  The arrow that hit his interlocutor stuck the back of his head, and the arrowhead emerged from his open jaws, ending the conversation. The wounded player hit the ground like a sack of potatoes, while the other one started riding as fast as he could, whipping his "ostrich" as hard as he could.

  Thyri appeared out of nowhere and approached the player who had been lying on the ground. He was still alive, his horrible wound notwithstanding, and was coming out of shock right about that time. It was the very borderline state when one's limbs are not in one's full control for a moment or two.

  The bowstring snapped again, and another arrow pierced the player's neck, followed by another one. The player's body grew still at last.

  Ros barely managed to keep his cool as he removed the meat from the fire, wrapped half of it in a burdock leaf, and offered the food to Thyri. She stopped fidgeting around the body of the slain fighter, bit off a piece, and nodded contentedly,

  "That's real good. Thanks."

  "Anytime."

  "Ros, we shouldn't keep following this path."

  "You wouldn't believe it, but I got to the conclusion that we had nothing to do here on my own. So, what was your reason for doing this?"

  "What exactly?"

  "This,” Ros pointed towards the body that was just beginning to vanish into thin air. "His name was in white lettering, so why would you have to kill him? What was the point?"

  Thyri shrugged him off.

  "I'm in their official black list. I could kill all of them, and my name wouldn't even become pinkish. They'd just flag me."

  Ros shook his head.

  "That’s where you’re wrong. Your name is reddish now, and not faintly pink as it was."

  "Really? Hey, would you look at this! I got some karma points. So they must have struck me out of their official black list. I had no idea."

  "Now you can't show yourself to anyone, and you cannot visit so much as a remote hamlet. You shouldn't let anyone see you, either."

  Thyri made a dismissive gesture once again.

  "I've had my name redder than any Ferrari a few times. But I have somehow managed to survive. Don't you worry."

  "Why should I be the one to worry? This ostrich driver will come back any moment with assistance and trackers. It's gonna be a lot of fun once they get here. They'll most likely kill you, and your red name may cost you some of your equipment. Was it worth it?"

  "They could have killed you any moment, and you wouldn't have managed to reach your destination."

  "They weren't going to kill me—I would have noticed something like that. They seemed to be perfectly decent—not the kind that's likely to kill you wantonly. And it's you they were looking for—they have no interest in me."

  "How could I have known that? They tried to screw with you, so I had to do something. Let's get going already. They'll get back soon, surely enough. They'll even splurge on sending a strong party over through a portal, and it's all because of me."

  "So, you've managed to piss them off more than once, I gather?"

  "Oy, you wouldn't believe it…"

  * * *

  Thyri made a huge understatement about having stepped on a few toes. It seemed as though she had compressed them into absolute flatness, poured hot tar and molten lead over them, and drilled a few holes in them to boot. That was the only explanation Ros had had for the bustle that followed.

  He'd been hunted with enough persistence himself back in the day, but he'd never seen a wyvern used as an airborne pet before. They were incredibly hard to get hold of, cost a fortune, and didn't live that long. Even the toughest clans valued each one of those beasties, and the fact that one was used for tracking was really impressive. Ros had to revise his opinion of Thyri as a result.

  She must have been a real low-key murderer to have gotten so popular.

  She was also a horrible runner. As in, she could run fast enough, but got winded nearly instantly. Her Stamina was ridiculously low. Losing a well-organized hunting party with ballast of this sort was unthinkable.

  Thyri was perfectly aware of this. The very next time they had to hide under a tree to evade airborne observation, she told Ros,

  "Hey, Bubble, we're not gonna be able to lose them. Why don't you split? You can run wherever you want to go. They only need me, so they won't be looking for you."

  "I wouldn't bet on it. They've seen me,
and they know of our association. Just the tracks would tell them as much."

  "You're more resilient than me. You can run for much longer. With me tagging along, you'll have no chances. Get going already. Please take these rings. They're my most valuable items. It would really suck if those guys got them. You can give them back later. Or not. Still, it would be better if you got them instead of those bastards."

  "Your name is just slightly pinkish. The risk of loss is low."

  "It's still higher than usual; you should know as much. And this place is good for a fight. I'll be able to take quite a few with me."

  She was right there. The fir wood was dark and murky, with lots of shrubs. An invisible archer would have plenty of chances to give those in pursuit an unpleasant surprise. But she wouldn't be able to surprise them for long. They'd be well-prepared this time.

  "Can't you use a teleport scroll to disappear?"

  "Have you any idea how much such a scroll costs? I've never so much as touched one. I don't have that kind of money."

  "I can open a free portal. I have a skill that permits it. You could use it to get away."

  "Where to?"

  "We'll find a place."

  "Will it be far away?"

  "Well… the nearest place I can send you to is two days' walk away."

  "Shall we go together?"

  "No, I can't do that."

  "In that case, I'd rather get killed. The respawn point is a lot closer. I can't get too far away from you, after all."

  "Why would that be?"

  "Someone asked me to help you"

  "Who would that be?"

  "Someone whose request I cannot decline."

  Damn, she didn't volunteer any information at all. A hard-headed one, for sure.

  "Hey, Bubble, why aren't you responding? Get running already. We don't have that much time."