Path of Darkness

by A P Gore

  Wisdom: Wisdom makes you wise and respectable. It increases Spirit and Spirit-based spell damage. Each point increases Health by 5, Spirit by 10, and spirit damage by 1%. This also adds to your spirit resistance by 1%.

  These two had no use for him. He didn’t have a Mage or Creature class, so he wouldn’t need them. Then again, the Formationist description mentioned channeling Spirit or Mana. Would he need to put points in these too?

  As the number of stats increased, the complexity increased too. Why did they have so many stats? If he remembered correctly, the last RPG he’d played only had Strength, Dexterity and Mana. That was simple to understand, and it had been easy to distribute his points.

  There were still two more stats to go through.

  Charisma: Who doesn’t like hot chicks around them? Or hot boys, if you are a girl. Or... Charisma determines how NPCs behave around you.

  Wow! Would this affect other players too?

  He doubted that.

  There was no mention of a Chance stat. If there wasn’t one, he wouldn’t have to worry about it.

  By the time he finished going through all the information, his respawn timer was blinking as it counted down the last few seconds. As it reached zero, he closed his eyes, expecting some boom. But all he felt was small stones poking through his thin green shirt.

  “You must be the noob.” A deep voice echoed from near his head, and Jon popped open his eyes.

  A man with a long black beard was bending over him with a shovel in his hand. He smelled like dog shit.

  Damn, why was everybody trying to kill him on the very first day? Jon braced himself for more pain.

  Chapter 6

  The black-bearded man stared at Jon for a long time with his beady eyes.

  Jon swallowed, waiting for the shovel to hit him somewhere. He cringed too, because of the intense odor the man was giving off.

  “Are you just going to lie there or get up?”

  Jon arched his brows. What the heck was wrong with Dog Shit Man?

  Dog Shit Man stepped back after a few more seconds. “Well, when you’re done with your weird meditation, come to farm thirty-six to get your shovel. I’m off.” Waving his hand, he turned away and started walking.

  Wasn’t Dog Shit Man going to kill him?

  “Hey, Mr. Dog Shit!” Jon called as he rose. The shrine stood tall to his right, and the bald man popped his head out of the nearby outpost office window, flashing his yellow teeth.

  Dog Shit Man turned back, his eyes raging. “It’s Kron.”

  Jon padded forward and extended his hand.

  Kron stared at his hand and then slapped the back of Jon’s hand hard with the back of his right hand. Jon gave him a strange look.

  Kron scratched his head. “Sorry, on my planet we use this method for greeting. Old habits are hard to break, even after five hundred years.”

  Jon was taken aback. Five hundred years? Was he kidding? He shook his head and cleared his throat before replying. “It’s okay. So, what were you doing here?”

  Waving his hand, Kron pulled a shovel out of thin air and shoved it into Jon’s hand. “That. I waited for you for that.”

  Jon glanced at the shovel and then back at Kron. “I already have one.”

  A crazy smile appeared on Kron’s face. “I doubt that. Grimish never leaves anything behind. Check your Bag of Holding.” His gaze fell on the bag attached to Jon’s belt.

  Jon willed his Bag of Holding to empty onto the ground. Nothing happened.

  “What?” He pulled the bag up and tried to look through it, but there was nothing.

  “Will the shovel to go into your Bag of Holding, and then will the interface to appear,” Kron said. He seemed to have experience dealing with new players. Why hadn’t Grimish told him how to do this? The traitor had wanted to steal his items all along.

  Jon’s forehead bulged as he remembered multiple things dropping from his bag in front of Grimish. The old fool’s eyes had turned greedy, but Jon didn’t realize it at the time.

  When Jon willed the interface to appear, it popped up and he could see the shovel occupying one space. There were forty spaces in all.

  “Damn, that bast—” He bit his tongue. What if Kron was colluding with Grimish? He wasn’t ready for another painful death. The twenty minutes after death were brutal, and the memory of that pain still lingered around his throat.

  Jon rubbed his neck unconsciously.

  “Grimish is a PKer.” Kron scratched his beard. “That’s player killer, for you.”

  “But why? I didn’t even have much money or any valuable items.” He glanced at the shovel, feeling pitiful.

  Korn chuckled, showing his weird yellow teeth. What was with these yellow teeth? “He wanted your flags.” He pulled a worn flag from the air. “This is a formation flag. It’s used to enhance crop yield. It enhances shovel strength too. Two hours’ duration.”

  Jon remembered seeing the crop grow a couple inches when the flags were stabbed in ground. “Ah. But he already had his own. Why steal mine?” Jon stared at the small fist-sized flag in Kron’s hand. It looked normal, but when all four were placed the space inside them had a strange power fluctuation.

  Kron waved his hand toward the farms. “Let’s go talk in my hut. I bet you’re hungry too.”

  As if on cue, Jon’s stomach rumbled, and a small gray icon appeared at the end of his Health bar. When he focused on it, a warning popped up.

  System: Hunger debuff active. Stamina drain is increased until hunger is satisfied.

  “Hunger debuff?”

  Kron increased his pace. “Yes, a serious hunger debuff will cut your Health. So, let’s eat while we talk. You’ll also need Strength to dig.”

  Jon nodded and followed him. This game was strange. At first, he thought he wouldn’t need to eat, but now seeing the hunger debuff he realized the game simulated real life, other than the whole respawn after death thing.

  Chapter 7

  After Jon finished a porridge-style rice dish in Kron’s small barren hut, his hunger debuff vanished. He even got a pop-up stat upgrade.

  System: +1 Strength for the next twelve hours. Reward for eating your first food in BlackFlame Online.

  “This is nice,” Jon whispered as he glanced at the pop-up while rubbing his hand over his six-packs abs. Yes, the game gave him a six-pack, and he was quite happy about it. Even the food provided him a nice feeling.

  Kron placed the dirty dishes in a large cauldron in the corner. “Let’s go to the field. I’ll show you the flags in action.”

  Jon jumped to his feet and followed Kron outside. Though the smelly man seemed nice, after his experience with Grimish, Jon wasn’t taking anything at face value.

  Kron walked straight toward a small patch of free land.

  “Now, this’s the seed of the weed crop.” Kron pulled a glass bottle out of the air and showed it to Jon. It contained half-a-centimeter round black seeds.

  “Why is it called weed crop?”

  Kron stared at the bottle of seeds thoughtfully. “Not sure.” He shook some seeds out into his hand. “First, watch how the flags are used.”

  Jon nodded and focused his attention on Kron’s actions.

  Kron walked through the free patch, dropping seeds five centimeters apart. Having been a farmer for almost twenty years, Jon knew a lot about farming and measuring perfect distance using only his eyes. Once Kron filled half the patch with seeds, he started pushing them into the soil using the back of the shovel.

  “Aren’t you going to plow?” Jon asked, surprised by the method Kron used. He was supposed to plow first for loosening the soil and then do the planting. Actually, before plowing, he was supposed to check the soil, clean it, plow it, analyze it and then use fertilizers to balance the soil’s minerals. And that was just the start. There were many stages of crop raising and harvesting. He could give a lecture to Kron if required.

  Kron arched his brows. “What is that?”

  “Nothing.” Jon replied
. Maybe the magic did all the things.

  “This crop doesn’t need water. Now we use the flag.” Kron walked to the end of the half patch and planted two flags. Then he walked back and completed a perfect rectangle by planting two more flags. When the fourth flag entered the soil, a strange power pulsed inside the rectangle, and the weed crop sprouted. The seedlings literally sprouted in seconds.

  Jon rubbed his eyes frantically. Was he seeing things?

  “The flags speed growth. In the next three hours, the crop will grow to knee height,” Kron said. “You can use the flags once each day.”

  Once a day. Now Jon got it. That f-king Grimish. He stole Jon’s flags so he could grow his own crop faster. If Grimish was in front him, he would have attacked him despite the fear of death.

  “You’ll pay for this, Grimish,” he muttered under his breath.

  Clapping, Kron reclaimed his attention.

  “What should I do now?” Jon asked. “I guess I need flags to complete production.” That was clear. The flags were given for that purpose. “If I ask the old man at outpost, will he give me a few?” It was frustrating, but if begging would get him flags, then he would do that too. For sure, Grimish wasn’t giving them back, nor did Jon have the strength to take them by force.

  “No. It’s one time in a day. But you can still make your weekly quota,” Kron said.

  Jon’s spirits were lifted for the first time. Actually, the second time. The food did that too. “Do you have any extra flags you can land me?”

  Kron’s face darkened. “No. But there’s another way.” He moved to the remaining half of the free patch. “You’ve got to dig deeper.” He started digging with his shovel.

  Jon observed him carefully. Kron didn’t seem to have much proficiency in digging, so Jon pulled out his shovel and started helping him. The shovel weighed almost five pounds, more or equal to the best shovel he had used in real life. With Jon’s help, Kron completed digging after two hours. Leaning on his shovel, Jon surveyed their handiwork. Ten perfect rows, twelve inches deep, ran through the earth. If he’d had an automatic plow, he would have completed this in a mere half an hour.

  System: +1 to Strength for your hard work.

  The notification brightened his mood. The game seemed to give him bonus stats for working hard.

  “Now we drop the seed,” Kron said. “This way, the soil helps the seed grow. It’s not as fast as the formation flags, but you can complete the 500 crop quota comfortably. With flags, you get 700 crops. You can sell the extra crop to the old man at the outpost.”

  “This crop can be harvested in just seven days?” Jon asked, surprised. The game seemed to accelerate many things.

  “Yes. Each morning, plant. Starting the seventh morning, harvest and re-plant. With flags, the work is less.”

  Considering the five-acre tract of land, Jon was looking at four to five hours of daily hard work. “Works for me.” Raising his hands, he stretched his sore muscles. It was good exercise, and he liked that about the game. A good workout induced a comfortable soreness in his body. Without that, life would have felt mechanical.

  “Work hard for three days. Eat food with me. Grimish stole your rations too.”

  Jon’s lips curled into a sad smile. “Thanks. But how do I get seeds? Grimish took those too.”

  “Go to Grimish. He’ll give back your seeds.”

  Crap! That was the last thing he wanted to do.

  “So, fella is here.” A familiar sinister voice echoed in the open air.

  Turning, Jon found Grimish walking toward him with a smug smile on his face.

  Jon clenched his hands around his shovel. He wasn’t going down without a fight this time.

  Chapter 8

  The evening light gave Grimish’s yellow teeth a grim look. The white beard in contrast with his tanned skin made him look like a ghost.

  Jon stared at the white-bearded jerk. Every cell in his body was filled with adrenaline, ready to strike the enemy. Even it cost him his life, he wouldn’t run away.

  Flashing a yellow smile, Grimish threw a couple of things at him.

  Bile rose to his throat, and Jon frantically waved his shovel through the air, trying to fend off whatever attack Grimish had thrown at him. But his shovel only swiped through empty air. No attack came.

  Instead, a shovel and a glass bottle filled with weed seeds landed on the ground at Jon’s feet. The shovel pierced the soil, biting deep into the hard-packed earth.

  Lowering his shovel, Jon squatted and picked up the seed bottle and pressed on the hard-packed dirt. It was as hard as stone. That throw could have gone through his throat easily. Against Grimish, he was just an ant. Maybe it was a warning.

  The adrenaline in his body died down.

  “I expected you to be with noob-friendly Kron.” Grimish chuckled, in an evil way with his tongue out. “Teach him well, Kron. This fella has to produce twice the crop in remaining three days. If he can’t, he won’t get rations. Then only death awaits him.” Turning, he left the farm without a backward glance.

  Kron stepped forward and touched Jon’s shoulder. “Indeed, this is troublesome. I need to teach you another method to grow the crop. That way, you’ll get double the crop.” For the first time, he sounded determined.

  Jon rose, glancing at old Grimish’s departing back, his dark gray shirt fluttering in the wind. The man was sinister, but his intimidation aroused Jon’s resistance too. If there was a way to increase his crop yield, he would give one hundred percent.

  “Whatever it takes. I’m ready.” His fingers tightened around the hard glass bottle.

  “How much Mana do you have?” Kron asked.

  “Mana?” Jon arched his brows, and then willed his character screen to appear. “Fifty Mana and fifty Spirit.”

  “You need to learn Mana Manipulation. But it’s hard. Will you learn it?” Kron asked with subtle care in his voice.

  Jon didn’t understand what he was getting at. “Why? I don’t have formation flags.”

  “You can use mine after I use them.”

  “But... didn’t you say it’s once a day?”

  Kron smiled. “If you don’t charge them with Mana. But...” He stared in Jon’s eyes. “You need Mana Manipulation. That can only come forcefully.”

  “I don’t care about the method. Just tell me what to do.”

  “You need to get killed by a druid.”

  A shiver ran down Jon’s legs. Why did he have to get killed? Wasn’t there a better way for this to work?

  Chapter 9

  Jon frowned. His legs wobbled at the thought of death, the pain that followed it, and the state that left him in. “Why do I have to die? Isn’t there another way?” He glared at Kron.

  The evening wind blew through the crop, sending a shiver down Jon’s legs. He licked his dry lips to moisten them.

  “There’s no other way. We don’t have a class.”

  Jon rubbed his forehead, wiping away a small trail of precipitation that had formed on it. The game was too real when it came to emotions and their effect. He wondered if his real body felt it too. The shiver, the fear.

  “What if I put my available stat points in Intelligence? Wouldn’t that increase my Mana?”

  Kron shook his head, frowning in disappointment. “Nope. Mana manipulation can only be learned by force. It’s a proven strategy.”

  “But how does getting killed activate my Mana Manipulation?”

  “Forest Druids have strange hands. They suck Mana from others. So, it activates Mana Manipulation by force.” Kron patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry. It’s just one death. Two hours of your time.”

  Jon stared at the crazy person who was telling him to get mana-sucked by a vampiric monster. The method itself screamed pain. Did Kron think he liked pain? And what if Kron was setting him up?

  But killing him wouldn’t help Kron at all. And Kron looked kind. He’d even invited Jon to eat with him for the next three days.

  Jon swallowed hard, finally cho
osing to go with it. Dying would be hard, but if he didn’t get the crop, he would die of starvation anyway. “Fair enough. I trust you. Now where would I get a druid to suck the Mana out of me?” No matter how many times he said it, it still felt creepy.

  Kron smiled. “That part is easy. Just go into Abomination Forest next to farm number fifty. Find a dude with four hands. Attack him.”

  “Abomination Forest? What a beautiful name.” He marinated his words with sarcasm. Wow! Even the name was scary. Damn. A single skill required him to go into a scary forest and find a dude with four hands. Why the fuck did it have to sound so gloomy?

  “Don’t die too soon.” Kron’s jaw tightened. “Only a druid can solve your issue.”

  “Fuck!” Jon cursed and turned away to go into Abomination Forest. Things were getting crazier every hour he spent in the game. All he wanted was to play the game and farm peacefully, but after just a few hours in the game he was walking toward his own death. A cruel death, at that.

  Kron accompanied him to the end of the farms. Surprisingly, the area only housed fifty farms. Maybe others were located elsewhere. After the fiftieth farm, Abomination Forest started. Trees with thick one-meter wide trunks closely guarded the entry into the forest. Their arms reached into the skies, forming scary shapes in the darkness.

  “Is that safe?” Fear tickled over Jon’s spine. What if some animal got him first? Would he have to die multiple times to get the stupid skill?

  “Follow the trail. It leads to the druids.” Kron glanced at the white orb in the sky and then pointed toward the trail going into the forest. “The moon will guide you.”

  Jon sighed. This was the worst idea anyone had ever given him. Even his lawyer in real life had had better ideas to reduce his prison term. How was the moon supposed to guide him?

  Muscling down his fear, Jon stepped onto the trail leading into the forest. Old foliage cracked under his leather shoes as he closed on the guardian trees.