“You have interfered with something that does not concern you, User-that-is-not-a-user,” Erebus screeched in a high-pitched voice. “Now witness your failure . . . ready . . .”
Before Erebus could give the command to attack, Shawny yelled, “Redstone three, NOW!”
In an instant, sticky redstone pistons moved underground, removing blocks from under the gravel, and then gravity took over. The gravel fell straight down into a huge torch-lit cavern that had been carved out from under the village, the bottom filled with water four blocks deep. Unable to swim, the mobs sank quickly; their bodies flashing red as they struggled for oxygen. Some of them managed to bob to the surface for another gulp of air, but would sink again, flashing red again, the creepers dying first. Slowly, the monsters perished, swimming not within their programming. In a few minutes, only a few remained, most of them clumped close together, finding purchase near the walls. Village archers struck out at the remaining zombies and spiders as they tried to flee the village, only to find that pistons near the gates had been raised, ensnaring them within the village walls, the hunters becoming the hunted. Now trapped between opposing rows of archers, the monsters screamed in rage as the defenders fired volley after volley of deadly projectiles, the cross fire of iron-tipped arrows slicing them to bits in mere minutes.
The monsters were defeated.
A cheer bubbled up from the villagers, first in disbelief, but then as a thunderous chorus of victory and joy. They had survived probably the worst attack ever seen on this server, if not in Minecraft history. Gameknight pulled out his pick and quickly carved a hole in the wall and walked out to face Erebus.
The enderman quickly disappeared from the outer wall and reappeared right next to him. Gameknight looked down, holding up an arm to halt any archers from firing.
“You think you won, User-that-is-not-a-user?” Erebus shrieked, venomous hatred in his voice. “This is just the first battle of many. You have protected this village, but there are many villages on this server with much XP to be had. It is just a question of time until this village and all other villages are destroyed. And then I’ll come for you.”
“Big talk coming from the loser,” Gameknight mocked. “I think you’ll find that the villagers on this server, all of them, are not so helpless anymore. Now why don’t you go run back into the shadows and stay there where you belong . . . or maybe thirty archers will use you for target practice. You think you can teleport away faster than I can signal them to fire?”
The enderman chief suddenly disappeared and teleported outside the village wall, a look of unbridled hatred on its dark face.
“This isn’t over,” Erebus screeched. “A storm is coming to cleanse this server and all servers, clearing out the infestation that is NPCs and users. We will flow through these electronic servers and into the physical world until we rule everything.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Gameknight said as disrespectfully as he could muster. “Don’t let the door hit you in the butt on your way out.”
And at that, Gameknight999 turned his back on Erebus and sheathed his sword, then held his fist up high and cheered, the villagers joining in. Shawny moved to his side and patted his friend on the back.
“I’m not quite used to seeing you act like a real leader,” Shawny said sarcastically. “It’s almost like you really care about these NPCs.”
Gameknight shrugged as he cast his gaze across the survivors, pride swelling within him. He’d done it. He’d won, but he knew that this was just a battle. The war still waged on and the real battle, the deciding battle, was yet to come.
CHAPTER 11
THE PLAN
T
he sun rose majestically to the east, bathing the landscape with a golden yellow glow that turned the sky from its terrifying midnight black to a warm mixture of orange and red until a cobalt blue flowed across the heavens from horizon to horizon; the terrifying night was finally over. As Gameknight999 watched the sunrise, he could hear a bustle of activity as the villagers started reassembling their village, replacing blocks into walls, patching together buildings that had fallen prey to the relentless wave of creepers. The Mayor was at the heart of the activity, wanting his village in shape before the next sunset; he knew the mobs would be back.
“Quickly, let’s get everything back into shape,” the Mayor yelled. “Send out messengers to the other villages. We need to know how the others fared.”
Crafter walked up to Gameknight, who was still looking to the east, lost in thought.
“What now?” Crafter asked.
“This was just the beginning, but they’ll be back,” Gameknight said softly, motioning Shawny and the Mayor to stand near. “Erebus will return with more monsters, and he won’t quit until he levels this village and all the rest on this server.”
“This is a war of attrition,” Shawny added. “He’ll just keep chipping away at the villages until they all fall. Fortifying the villages was smart, but it’s not the answer.”
Gameknight thought for a minute. He could feel the answer in the back of his mind, but it was illusive, flitting between memories of battle and memories of his old life in the physical world. Suddenly, an image of him playing with his three cats: Max, Baxter, and Shadow, popped into his head. He used to love taunting them with his dad’s laser pointer, directing the red spot on the ground and making them chase it throughout the house, but his favorite game was trying to herd all three of them into tight spots, using the laser as bait. It was always challenging, but his greatest victory was getting all three of them to climb into an empty box simultaneously, the three felines hungry to catch the only thing that mattered to their furry little minds—that elusive red spot. That’s what he needed here: bait.
“OK, here’s the plan,” Gameknight said confidently, the solution now clear in his mind. “First of all, we have to deny the mobs any victory. We can’t let the villages slowly get whittled down to nothing.” Turning to the Mayor, he continued. “Send out messengers to all the villages. Find out which ones took the most damage and abandon them, distributing the NPCs to the other villages, boosting their numbers. As villages take damage, we move the people to stronger locations, keeping up the number of people in the surviving villages, so that they can mount a strong defense.”
The Mayor looked to one of the villagers that had been listening nearby and nodded his head. Moving quickly, he ran to a cluster of other NPCs and relayed the plan, the group then heading to the tall stone tower, the minecart systems underground their destination. The Mayor then looked back to Gameknight.
“It’s started. It will be done.”
“Good,” Gameknight said. “We have to deny the monsters any victims, any XP. They have to be hungry, really hungry for something to kill.”
“But how will that help us?” Shawny asked. “It will only make them fight harder. I don’t see how this helps us.”
“You see, if we stop the monsters from killing anyone in the villages, then they will go crazy when they sense someone out in the open,” Gameknight explained.
“You mean like another user?” Crafter asked with a gravelly voice.
“Yes, but not just any user . . . me.” Gameknight paused to let that sink in then continued. “I will be the bait that will draw them away from the villages and to a place where we, the users, have the advantage. That’s where the final battle for this server will take place.”
“This sounds insane,” Shawny cried. “You don’t know what will happen if you get killed here on this server.”
“That’s right,” Gameknight agreed, “but that’s also true for the villagers as well. Life inside the Minecraft software is uncertain. We don’t understand it, just like we don’t understand life in the physical world, but we continue to live our lives, regardless. I’ve come to realize that life is a gift, whether physical or digital, and we have to protect this gift with any means at our disposal, and that means me luring the mobs, not just the ones near this village, but all the mobs on this server int
o a trap that will destroy them all, forever.”
“That is indeed a noble quest,” Crafter said as he put a blocky hand on Gameknight’s shoulder. “But how do we do it? How will we destroy them all when we get them together?”
“We’ll do what we do best,” Gameknight999 said proudly. “We’ll grief them.”
Shawny smiled, understanding.
“Now here’s what we’ll do.”
Gameknight pulled them into a tight circle and explained his plan, laying out the intricate pieces of the puzzle, hoping they would all fit together when the time came. Shawny nodded when it came to his part in this deadly play, his mind already whirling with strategic ideas that would be lethal to the mobs while Crafter and the Mayor accepted their parts as well. Once he’d explained his plan, his three coconspirators stepped back and nodded, each seeing the risk in what they were to do but also seeing the possibility of victory if all went well.
“It’s vital that the villages hold out,” Gameknight said. “We have to deny the mobs any XP so that they’ll chase me across the landscape and into our trap. None can be left behind.”
“The villagers will hold out,” the Mayor said staunchly. “We’ll see to that.”
“Excellent,” Gameknight replied. “Then let’s get everything ready. I’ll need supplies, weapons, and some new armor. Shawny, you’ll need lots of tools and food for everyone. After you find the place . . .”
“Don’t worry,” Shawny interrupted, “I know what to do. You bring the monsters to me, and I’ll do the rest.”
Gameknight999 nodded to his friend, realizing how important his friendship was to him; it was a thing that seemed quite the rarity these days. Before he knew it Shawny disappeared, a subtle popping sound filling the space where he had been standing, the headband on his ninja skin the last trace of him to fade away. He was gone.
“You have a stout friend there,” Crafter said in his scratchy, aged voice. “Not everyone is blessed with such friendships. You must be a worthy friend yourself.”
Gameknight looked at Crafter, a flash of anger flowing across his face.
Was he mocking me? Was that sarcasm?
Gameknight didn’t have lots of friends. In fact, he had very few since most of the players he’d met on Minecraft either ended up as the victim of his griefing or trolling. His goal in the past had always been to play for himself and only himself, and he didn’t worry about what other people needed, but now Gameknight could see the destructive nature of his past attitude. Griefing other people’s creations, destroying buildings, causing servers to lag out and crash . . . all of these things just served to push people away from him. It made others avoid him . . . and for good reason. Why should anyone trust me now? Would anyone even be there at this final battle to help, or would I have to face the hundreds of monsters alone, as would be justified? He sighed.
“Yes, Shawny is a good friend, better than I deserve,” Gameknight said with a serious tone. “But enough talk, let’s get ready.”
“We are ready,” Crafter said proudly.
“You have everything I’ll need already? How is that possible? We haven’t even moved!”
“One of my abilities as the village crafter is to communicate to those in the caverns who are crafting for me. As we discussed the plan, I had them start making what I thought would be needed.”
Crafter reached out with a blocky arm and pointed to three NPCs running toward them, coming from the tall stone tower with its secret shaft. They ran up to Gameknight and started leaving objects on the ground: new iron armor, food, two stacks of torches, three iron picks, an iron shovel, an arrow, and a diamond sword . . . A DIAMOND SWORD! Gameknight reached out quickly and grabbed the weapon, its icy blue surface almost glowing.
“Diamond, where did you find diamond?” Game-knight asked.
“There are some diamonds about, not many, but some,” Crafter explained. “I had some of my villagers start various branch mines down near the bedrock. They’ve been mining while we talked. It’s amazing how much can be mined when you have fifteen villagers working on it all at the same time.”
“Is it enchanted?” Gameknight asked, noticing the shimmering bluish-purple hue that seemed to dance across the blade and handle.
“Yes,” Crafter replied, his scratchy voice resonating with pride. “It has Knockback II and Sharpness III. It should serve you well.”
Gameknight held it up to the sun and admired the razor-sharp edge, the enchanted weapon casting a warm cobalt blue glow on his face. Inspecting every inch of the sword, Gameknight scrutinized it carefully, a smile slowly spreading across his face. This was exactly what he needed.
Looking at the other supplies that hovered near the ground, he noticed the single arrow. Picking it up, he held it before his eyes, confusion replacing the smile.
“Why only one arrow? And no bow?”
“A single arrow wouldn’t be very useful unless you had a really special bow,” Crafter said, a smile on his face causing his ancient brow to wrinkle upward. “Give it to him.”
Digger came forward and stood directly in front of him, tension heavy in the air. Gameknight had caused the death of his NPC wife, a testament to the selfish, conceited attitude he’d had until getting pulled into this world.
“I still don’t forgive you for what you did,” Digger said with an angry voice. “But today, you saved our village, kept all the children and villagers safe from the mobs, saved my children. You did something that was not for you, was not self-centered, and not at the expense of others. Today you did something at your own expense by risking your life to save others, and this I can respect and appreciate.”
The villager reached into his inventory and pulled out a shimmering bow.
“You left this in our chest the first time you were here, when you . . .”
“When I griefed the village and caused the death of your wife,” Gameknight said solemnly, his head lowered.
Digger nodded, then held out the bow to the User-that-is-not-a-user. Reaching out, Gameknight took it and held it up to his eyes, absorbing every aspect of the weapon, his Punch II, Power III, and Infinity enchanted bow, the envy of all.
“I’d forgotten about this,” Gameknight said, his voice filled with hope. “My old bow, my old friend.” Gameknight looked up at Digger and placed a hand on his shoulder. “This bow may tip the scales, Digger. It may make the difference between success and disaster. Thank you.”
It was something he wasn’t used to saying; the words felt strange in his mouth.
Digger bowed his head.
“It looks like we have everything,” Crafter said, his scratchy voice sounding like sandpaper scraping against rock. “It’s time for us to go.”
“Us?” Gameknight999 asked. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m going with you,” Crafter said, his voice suddenly sounding clear. “I’m seeing this through to the end.”
“You can’t,” Gameknight complained, his voice growing louder. “The most likely outcome here will be death, and you can’t respawn like the users do.”
“And you can?” the old NPC asked, his voice resonating like a bell, confidence in their task and clarity in their purpose ringing clear.
Nearby villagers could now hear what was being discussed and were drawing near, uncertainty painted on their faces.
“I don’t know what will happen to me,” Game-knight stated, “but I do know what will happen to you if you’re killed, you’ll . . .”
“I’ve lived a long life, probably longer than anyone else in this world. I’ve seen many things in my days, more sunrises than I can count and the deaths of too many friends . . . too many . . .” Crafter was suddenly lost in thought, memories of the deceased haunting him for an instant. “No, my time here is done. I must move on and name a new village Crafter.”
Gameknight999 glared at Crafter, hoping the force of his will would make the old NPC back down, but no, Crafter only glared back, daring him to challenge his decision.
He could feel the weight of this responsibility starting to press down on him, crushing him like a mighty vise.
The villagers now congregated around the two, all of them completely silent, eyes locked on the Crafter and the User-that-is-not-a-user. The tension between the two of them seemed to almost make the air shake with fear, the magnitude of what was happening clear to all. And then a small voice percolated up through the silent crowd; it belonged to the brave young girl who had first spoken to Gameknight a day ago, even though it seemed like an eternity had since passed.
“I’ll miss you, Crafter,” she squeaked, her voice shaking with fear. “You’ve been good to me, and I will never forget you.”
“I’ll always remember your fireworks,” said another voice. “The yellow stars were always my favorite.”
“Yes, and . . .”
“I remember . . .”
“Thank you for . . .”
“Farewell . . .”
The flood of goodbyes washed over them as the village made the decision for the both of them. The NPCs shared with Crafter the small moments when he’d touch each and every life, done some small thing that eased someone’s worries, made them smile, or saved a life; it was an affirmation of his existence, a confirmation of his value and worth in this electronic world, and to Gameknight’s surprise, he saw a square blocky tear flow down the old NPC’s face, a smile rising up to meet the salty flow.
The villagers all crowded in to touch Crafter one last time then moved back to their work, preparing the village for the next attack, likely coming in two days’ time.
“Digger, please stay,” Crafter said as he wiped the square tear from his face.
Invasion of the Overworld Page 10