Dark: Fearless Pioneer (Dark LitRPG book 1)
Author: Stone, Arthur
Date: 2019-07-15

Dark: Fearless Pioneer

Contents

Dark: Fearless Pioneer

Chapter 1

Two Hundred to Lose

Chapter 2

Bad Neighborhood

Chapter 3

A Father’s Wrath

Chapter 4

The Spider’s Web

Race Power

Chapter 6

Technical Issues

Chapter 7

Bewilderment

Chapter 8

Stonehenge

Chapter 9

A Prisoner Again

Chapter 10

Among the Stones

Chapter 11

Bad Bind

Chapter 12

The River

Chapter 13

Self-Discovery

Chapter 14

Crippled

Chapter 15

Kingdom of Frogs

Chapter 16

A Useless Gift

Chapter 17

Back to the River

Chapter 18

Master of None

Chapter 19

Pelting

Chapter 20

A New Strategy

Chapter 21

Experienced Explorer

Chapter 22

Lands of the Ancient Treasure

Chapter 23

The Explorer

Chapter 24

Discovery Bonuses

Chapter 25

Hesh’ell Hell

Chapter 26

The Abandoned Mine

Chapter 27

The Tower

Chapter 28

An Ancient Evil

Chapter 29

Metalworking

Chapter 30

Buzzing and Grinding

Chapter 31

Disappointment

Chapter 32

Or is it?

Chapter 33

Dungeon Dealings

Chapter 34

Unfound Treasures

Chapter 35

In Search of Ruin

Chapter 36

Evil Ethrians

Chapter 37

Under Siege

Chapter 38

The Only Witness

Chapter 39

Artifacts and Achievements

Chapter 40

Strange Affairs

Chapter 41

Blending In

Chapter 42

Mob Boss

Chapter 43

The First Task

Chapter 44

Six Days Later

Chapter 45

The Second Task

Chapter 46

Deceitful Eyes

Chapter 47

Difficult Thoughts

Chapter 48

Day in the Life of a Terrorist

Chapter 49

Black Blood Temple

Chapter 50

Hesh’ells, Hesh’ells Everywhere

Chapter 51

The Power of Light

Chapter 52

The Invisible Saboteur

Chapter 53

Army of the Dead

Chapter 54

Boom

Chapter 55

Hello from an Old Friend

Many thanks to my readers!

Chapter 1

Two Hundred to Lose

Total stat levels: N/A

Character level: N/A

Mastery: N/A

“If you die, you get sop. The Arena of Death will give you two hundred for a loss, no more. If you win, though... Well, you’ll get a thousand from the arena lords, and another five thousand from me. Six grand! Now, you don’t look smart, but I’m sure you can figure out which number is bigger. I never bet on somebody I don’t believe in, kid. I believe in you. You’re luckier than Moses, and those beautiful little battles of yours I’ve heard about are just what can make a man in this place. So just keep on your feet, and everyone will be happy. You for your cut, me for mine, and the audience, who pay to see just what you’re about to show them.”

That’s how the agent had laid it out for him. The swindler suddenly had immense faith in his successful warrior. He had calculated preciously how to make bank at the bookies’ expense. With a series of strategic bets, placed at just the right moments.

How much would the clever glutton pull in if he won? If he was this willing to pay out five thousand, he was easily able to pay out fifty. Steel flashed before his eyes, a few inches from the bridge of his nose.

A near miss. But he continued backpedaling in his defensive stance. That saved his life yet again—at that instant, the second sword cut so close to his chin that hairs fell to the floor.

Fighting a man with two blades was like that. Many who dodged the first attack succumbed immediately to the second. At the speed these monsters could swing, “immediately” meant too much time, if anything.

Today, he was “doubleblade,” too, but only thanks to the current nickname on his colorful banner: “Dark Doubleblade. One cut cripples, the other kills!” As far as copy went, it sucked. The nickname was pretty lame, too, he thought. But his agent had final say in these things. He did more than just take his twenty-five percent cut, after all. Pretty much everything that happened in his work was up to the fat man: from selecting optimal opponents, identifying their strengths and weaknesses, negotiating with the various battle organizers, and posting escrow all the way down to the shady tricks of a bookmaker. He took care of all kinds of problems, too, involving virtual police and real-life doctors both. Even costume design, including special effects for weapons and armor, were handled by him or by experts he hired.

Dark found the man a good agent. Better than Locust by a long shot. That last agent’s appearance had suited his nickname.

This was virtual reality. You were what your agent and organizers decided you would be, whether that meant slim and beautiful, or a hunchback with a monkey’s ass for a face.

Conan stubbornly came after him without slowing down. He twirled his swords in the air. Dark envied how tireless the man was. And cursed.

At what, you might ask?

At the fact that this wasn’t even a fight. It was a joke. The bastards in charge had decided to turn the conflict into a cheap parody of gladiatorial battles of antiquity.

They dressed Dark up as a merman of some kind. The trident and the net fit the part, but in place of a helmet, he wore some nonsense head wrap with straight silver wings adorning it. His left arm sported what only a jester might call a shield: a couple of flimsy strips of metal strapped to his forearm with ostentatiously yellow straps. A leather skirt of the same color completed the set. All in all, zero protection. In fact, it barely covered his privates from the full view of the audience. This decision was a bone thrown to the latest ludicrous fashion trend, or perhaps to the spectators, female and male alike, who watched the games because they found the male form arousing.

Dark lost the net moments into the fight, watching hopelessly as it sailed off to the side simply because he was unskilled at using it. His only weapon was the trident, then – and still, it was much more awkward than a spear. Slimy overlords couldn’t even spare me a dagger. What gladiator would have gone into a fight without a dagger? Curious organizers decided that he would pass for a fisherman even without it, and at the same time it would change the odds in the necessary direction.

Bastards. Dark had no idea how much getting rid of the net dropped his multiplier, but he was nearly certain that the reduction was much more significant than the soulless kings of this castle had account for.

Now he just had to somehow skewer the walking meat grinder ahead of him with this awkward oversized fork. Conan was decked out with quite a different interpretation of gladiatorial tradition, armor protecting him from the neck all the way down to mid-thigh, plus leg wrappings. Thankfully he had no shield, at least. But that was only because both of his hands were occupied holding swords.

How could he kill an opponent this dangerous?

Yet fighting the enemy head-on was not the only option here in the Mortal Arena. He could try provoking his opponent to chasing him around the rough terrain until the weight of the man’s considerable armor and weapons exhausted him. Then, Dark could finish him off, with much better odds. But that was unlikely to work here. One single misstep, one dodge poorly executed, and Dark would either meet a quick death at those twin blades or be torn to pieces by the roaring tigers straining towards them on their chains staked around the perimeter.

Beasts of prey were as effective as concrete walls when it came to arena barriers.

Dark moved away from the maw of one of these predators reaching for him, collapsing into a roll and changing direction as he went for his net. Conan seemed to be a smart fighter. Abandoning the hopeless pursuit of his lighter quarry, he took up position in the center of the arena.

After all, experienced warriors knew how to anticipate the opponent’s movements.

So both of them stopped, five yards apart, sweat dimming their eyes and panting interrupting their breath. No scratches marred Conan’s form, but Dark had already earned a scrape on his right forearm and a slice in his right thigh, gushing blood. What could he do with a trident? How did the ancient gladiators do it? Maybe they had, but Dark couldn’t figure out how to mount a decent attack, never mind a defense. Things might have been different had his opponent wielded only one sword against him.

If he was a fisherman, he had caught the wrong fish today.

So should he keep giving the man the runaround? Time was playing in Conan’s favor, actually. No matter how much he ducked and wove, sooner or later Dark would make a deadly mistake. He was wounded, with the first symptoms of blood loss, and disadvantaged in the armament department.

And this was just the start.

The beginning of his inevitable end.

His window of opportunity for some saving course of action was closing rapidly.

Dark would only get a measly two hundred and fifty if he lost. His current debts were six times that. If he went down here, he had no idea when his agent might forgive him enough to put him in the ring again.

Damn trident! Damn agent! Damn animals who invented this perverted circus!

Conan twirled his weapons with a wry grin and taunted him in a voice lower than the moral standards of the people in charge. “Aw, baby’s about to get a boo-boo!”

Dark nodded. “One baby will.”

“Enough babble!” Conan propelled himself at Dark so suddenly that jets of sand shot up from where his feet had been.

But instead of dodging out of the way, as Conan would expect, Dark did something unexpected. He rushed towards the opponent and gave an ungainly jab with his trident which had no hope of reaching the enemy, despite the shrinking distance between them.

Thankfully, the enemy was not his target. It was doubtful that the trident would get through anyway, with all of the man’s armor.

Dark’s target was different.

His bronze trident loudly collided with the sword, locking it in between two of its teeth as it continued spinning. Conan always had the spectacle in mind, and he was in the middle of an attack dressed in a predator’s grace, twirling his blades carelessly. The audience found this beautiful, but it was a reckless way to charge into combat.

When you’re holding a weapon, hold it tight.

One sword flew out of the man’s left hand, but that was not enough by half, since Dark would imminently receive a blow from the weapon in Conan’s right.

Once again, he doubted this was a move his opponent would expect.

Not only did he refuse to dodge – he stood in the very place he was guaranteed to die from the blow should it connect.

To meet the oncoming slice, Dark threw up what he held in his left hand. Which was, precisely, nothing. No weapons, just a pair of narrow steel plates running from his elbow to his wrist.

The blade struck him exactly where he intended: between his pointer and middle fingers. Yet he continued to move, red splashing everywhere as the blade cut through his wrist with a sickening crunch, struck medal, and wedged itself further in between those “protective” metal strips, cleaving his arm in half as it went. Splitting it like string cheese. It was a monstrous wound, flooding his body and mind with agony. The kind that would put him into shock right away, or at most half a minute later, as his heart pumped the contents of his veins onto the sand.

He was still conscious, though, and he still had his other arm. The trident was worthless now, its mockingly clumsy points jutting far past the opponent. Conan would never let him strike with such a lumbering weapon at this close range. He released the trident. Then he struck. Everything was riding on this blow.

The entire winner’s purse of 5,750.

His fingers hit where intended, stabbing deep into the man’s eye sockets with a satisfying squish. Both of them screamed together in pain and rage. Dark voiced most of the pain, and Conan most of the rage.

Dark circled around. His enemy could no longer see him. Though his arm had been severed in half, so had the odds against him.

He bit his lip tight to avoid giving away his position with the sound of his gnashing teeth, then bent down to seize the sword his enemy had dropped. As he raised it, he evaluated its balance. It was simple, straight, maneuverable. Much better than an oversized dinner fork.

Dark spun to face the barbarian. Conan was still screaming, swinging his sword every which way in blind fury and he vainly tried to regain his sight by wiping the snot and blood from his face with his free hand.

Throwing up the sword in his hand once more, Dark spat out the red liquid in his mouth. He fought back the urge to yell, and instead spoke coolly, without a hint of mockery.

“I’ll pay you what I owe you after this battle, Conan. Since I’ll have money, you know.”

“Fucking goat!” the blinded giant erupted as he dove at the man’s voice.

But his bestial roar died a moment later, severed along with the neck producing it. Dark’s blow wasn’t quite strong enough to sever the man’s skull from his spine.

Beheading an opponent with a one-handed attack was near impossible, especially when a pair of that hand’s fingers were still throbbing from an eye-socket jab.

The victor, more scantily clad than ever, shifted to the side as the body collapsed towards him, then he took a knee. Now he was free to clench his teeth as he gave in to the agony. But he could not succumb fully until the ten-second count had passed. Why did they even have that stupid rule? How could anyone think that a man with a mostly-severed head might find the strength to get to his feet again? Never mind ten seconds. Give him a day and that wouldn’t be enough. Some people believed that a similar event had occurred once in human history, but that was after three days, and no beheading was involved.

Ten seconds... Yes, they were idiots.

Or perhaps just sadists.

Attention: The battle is over! The victor: Dark! Congratulations to the winner! Location hibernation in progress. Victor and loser, prepare for cleanse.

The red victory message blinked out as quickly as it had blinked in, and Dark’s vision filled with an impermeable incarnation of his namesake. The pain vanished, as if it had never existed. But this was another sort of illusion. It was far from the end. After all, his virtual body was inextricably synthbound to his real body. The negative mental and emotional effects of having your arm severed in two could not simply be flipped off with a switch. It was biologically impossible to ignore the consequences.

Which were, needless to say, not good.

The phenomenon was called “cleanse,” among other things, and it was most pronounced when coming back to the real world after trauma like what Dark had endured. Sometimes, it was easy enough. Other times, not so much.

Sometimes, agents had to hire doctors and synth technicians to fix you up.

Or even pay one final expense: hiring a cheap burial service.

Chapter 2

Bad Neighborhood

Total stat levels: N/A

Character level: N/A

Mastery: N/A

“Dark, you’re not too mad at the whole ‘fucking goat’ thing, right?”

It took a moment for the question to pierce through the pharmaceutical fog. The champion pushed down the drowsiness assaulting him and barely managed to shake his head.

“I’m not Dark, you know.”

“And I’m not Conan. So what? You telling me that none of that stays with you after cleanse? Never had some of what hits you in there stick with you out here?”

“It’s ... this medicine. Too many chemicals. Cheap foreign chemicals.”

“It was a pretty cheap battle, too,” Conan said. “A beautiful fight in the end, though. A remarkable fight.”

Dark nodded. “I agree with you there. But the names they gave us kind of suck.”

“We have no names, my friend. Only stage names. Today, I was Conan. Tomorrow I’ll be Rambo, or whatever. Half an hour ago, you were Dark, and now you’re as fair as a Swedish maid. But you know that, inside, you’re still Dark. And Dark you will remain, until your next battle.”

“You’re right, Conan. Until the next battle. Until the next stupid name.”

“So, back to the ‘fucking goat’ thing. You really OK with that? No offense taken?”

Dark rose from the cracked plastic bench he had been sitting on, careful not to let his balance topple, and walked over to the virtual mirror hanging on the wall. It was a cheap interactive device with intolerably gaudy RGB cycle backlighting, and it had a knack for covering you up with ads you had to acknowledge just to get a look at yourself. After all, this was a seedy half-finished basement, the kind they always converted into rooms for the poorest of the warriors. Perhaps some bathed in reflected light set in the medieval silverwork of Venetian frames. To put it mildly, anything that chic was far out of place in this hole stinking of sweat. The most valuable item in this whole space was a high-speed router tapped into the high-speed fiber line. That was enough to link a couple of fighters into an illegal virtual arena, and that was enough to pay rent. All of the dumbbells were just a simple front and a way to launder money.

Real gyms were, after all, increasingly losing ground to virtual training facilities. As soon as feedback tech was affordable enough to be available to everyone, the real-world gyms would die out completely.

Cleanse, a phenomenon caused by drugs that were not the most-friendly to your health and to flash doses by the “smart” medical injector were still an issue. Its effects included pupil dilation problems. Hence, Dark failed to focus right away—but once he did, it was the advertisement that drew his eye. A targeted advertisement. The mirror knew his preferences and matched the product it promoted to what its algorithm said should interest Dark.

“The next gen fighting environment is here! Full immersion, with no restrictions. Fighters experience real pain, with no limits. Genuine, unmanaged suffering! Every season, a few warriors die during cleanse, or turn into vegetables. But they know the risks, and they know the rewards. Watch the Mortal Arena, the biggest illegal show on this planet! Available via live broadcast with partial immersion. Video is for weaklings. VR is for warriors! Note: All battles are conducted via underground data centers, run on state-of-the-art hacked equipment. Near-zero ping, near-unlimited responsiveness!” The AI should have picked an image to complement the text that showed two naked athletes locked in a deadly struggle, but instead it looked like a shot from a low-budget film whose key conflict was a bar scuffle between two gays on steroids.

Dark shook his head. “This mirror knows why we do this, Conan.”

“Well?”

“Well... I don’t even know why. But the stupid mirror does.”

“Come on, I mean the whole goat thing.”

“What goat thing?”

“The ‘fucking goat’! Are you OK, Dark? You need to see a doctor. This time’s really got to you. You have the money for it now. We’re talking about your health here, and your synth. No sense taking chances with those.”

“Look, I’m not mad about the...”

“Doctor. Now. Or you enjoying the thought of losing your mind? I hurt you bad in there. Sure, you say you don’t mind, but your face says otherwise.”

Dark tossed another pill in his mouth, this one the color of tree frog orange. “Forget about it. I had already forgotten. Come on, would you take seriously anything like that I said to you??”

“Look, get yourself to the doctor. You’re taking too many fights these days. That’ll kill you. Endless cleanses, no breaks. And something’s off this time. I’m in cleanse right now. Usually I’d have a killer thirst for beer right now, but I’m feeling nothing of the sort. Don’t even want to think about it. Something’s wrong with this cleanse.”

Dark was still looking at the mirror. “Look, this one’s telling me to open a secure tab and pick up some fairy dust.”

“What?” Conan’s mouth opened wide.

“Yeah.”

“Holy hell. They’ve got some balls.”

Dark still stared at the mirror. “I know. They’re not afraid of anything, I guess. Open advertising! I guess they’re swimming in enough dough to take care of anyone who makes trouble.”

“But really, what do they have to fear? This is the kind of neighborhood where you can get your kidney yanked and it’s already inside some rich immigrant by the time you notice. Powder’s on every corner, in every bag. As long as you have money, you can get it whenever you want. Just that it’s always kids selling it now. The adults don’t touch the stuff, just pull the strings. Decent job for the kids who haven’t hit twelve yet.”

Still Dark drilled into the mirror with his drugged gaze, popping yet another tablet. When he spoke, his voice was distant. “Gave you back your one-fifty, Conan. Check your wallet. Thanks for bailing me out with that.”

“Feeling rich, eh? Decided to pay off your debts.”

“When better to pay off debts?”

“Sure, but you know that was an unfair fight. Victory was mine. Nobody would stick their hand in front of an attacker’s sword like that in the real world. The shock alone would have taken you down. We were fighting in a simulation, not reality. That place doesn’t feel anything close to real yet. If it did, your trick wouldn’t have worked.”

“So? Are you suggesting we fight outside?”

“Look, I don’t really mean anything by it. I’m feeling like crap right now. You know what I mean.”

“I do. So the mirror is showing me some game for majors. I look like a major to you?”

“You don’t look like somebody who lives in a dump. Pretty well groomed, clean clothes. There’s a bit of major in you, maybe. What’s the game?”

“‘X’. I’ve heard about it before but never saw pictures. It’s gorgeous.”

Conan nodded. “The majors get all the best stuff. Only budget accounts for the rest. X is about real pain, not cheap simulation like the Arena. A direct synth connection, checked by official inspectors and all that. You can even get high, or orgasm, or both, and feel it. And that’s really all anybody goes there for.”

“So, for once, the advertisement is true,” Dark said without surprise.

“No advertisements are true. But this... The picture looks just like outside. I don’t know who designed these models, but they’re hot enough to raise the dead.”

“They could look a little different outside. Or a lot different. Hell, they could be bearded fatsos.”

“You really think that bothers the people who use X?”

“No, I’m not thinking anything right now. Thinking is the last thing I want to do.”

“I get it. Look, can you lend me two-fifty? It’ll almost save my life.”

“What do you mean ‘almost’?”

“Exactly that. You know the place I’m living at? The woman in charge has been after me for over a week now. Promises to send in some thugs to kick me out.”

“Why?”

“Well... She really wants me to pay up. You know the drill. No delays. So either I end up out on the streets, or... Well, they say there’s another way I can get out of the debt.”

“So why haven’t you taken it?”

Conan hesitated. “It’s not the most pleasant option. They say I just need to, well, satisfy her. And then she’ll leave me alone. As long as we do it three or four times a week.”

“Sounds like good news to me, no?”

“Why would I be happy about this? She looks less feminine than you do, Dark, and her voice sounds like a sewer. Smells like one, too. And she’s got enough body positivity for nine women. She’ll get into bed with anyone, for hours, screaming so loud the whole block hears.”

“Look, you’ve got an imagination. Just close your eyes and imagine you’re with Desiree Aisha.”

“I’d have to plug my ears, too. That voice, remember?”

“So put on some of Aisha’s songs during.”

“Quit joking around, Dark. It’s not funny. She’s older than my great-grandmother. I’d rather set my own brains on fire inside with regulators open to max than drag Aisha through the mud like that. So, can you lend me the money?”

“Alright sent. Check your wallet.”

“A million thanks, brother. This really helps.”

“I had an agent like her once. So I get what you’re dealing with, Conan.”

“I’ll give it back when I get my next win. You know I will. Where are you off to? I’m heading to the Metal Plant. Could drop you off.”

Dark reluctantly pulled away from the mirror, whose ads had turned to soft porn, and shook his head.

“I have to go the other direction. Thanks anyway.”

“How’d you get here?”

“On my own two feet.”

“A wonder they’re not broken, then. This is a tough area, and you’re even less of a fighter coming right out of a cleanse. Two crippled junkies could take you down if they wanted to. So get a taxi. Only the cheapest ones will even come here, anyway.”

“Got it.”

“Let me at least take you down to the boulevard. It’s a little nicer there.”

“I’ll get there on my own,” Dark answered. “Hey Conan, look in the mirror now. What do you see?”

“Why can’t you look for yourself?”

“No, you look.”

“Alright. I’m looking. What now?”

“Do you see two pictures? Completely identical pictures?”

“Yeah. They look the same to me. Must be a glitch in the targeting and design AI. Happens all the time. What, bro, did you think you were going nuts? I guess worse things can happen right after a cleanse. Sometimes I think I’ve gone nuts, too.”

* * *

The door creaked shut as he shuddered in the damp air. His knees trembled and threatened to give, and his vision dimmed. Dark felt like dizziness was about to send him into the pavement, so he leaned back against the primitive graffiti on the wall and pressed his eyelids closed. The cleanse didn’t want to let him go, despite the near-fatal dose of meds he had taken. Maybe a neurosynth tech was indeed what he needed.

But why? What would a man like that even say? That virtual battles with all restrictions and protections removed was harmful for your brain?

And then charge a pretty penny.

Dark had just scored a nice victory, but that only dulled his financial difficulties for a time. Even if he spent what he had on his debts and the bare essentials, he would need more money soon in order to feel safe.

As if anyone here can feel “safe.” People who had to hide from the law, like he did, had to pay a lot more for things.

Maybe he should listen to Conan and pick up a cheap taxi. Normally, he wouldn’t worry. The area was a haven for criminals, but they picked on the weak. He was strong. Cleanse could turn the mightiest brutes into mewing, stumbling kittens, though.

Nah. A taxi is cheap, sure, but I should avoid every expense I can. Dark would summon the strength to make it to the subway.

Five deep breaths, open your eyes, and get going. He took a few seconds to get up to walking speed, then broke into a run until he reached the station.

Running was always a helpful way to come to his senses. Especially when his head was filled with nothing but the effects of medicines of dubious quality.

Good exercise helped purge the stuff from his body so his thoughts could begin working again.

Dark lifted his leaden eyelids and jerked reflexively away from a massive dark figure looming in the thick evening twilight. He redirected the jerk backwards to the left, attempting to dodge the incoming attack, but he still took it, a blow that wasn’t very strong but made him crumble nonetheless. Men were built to feel intense pain in that area even when the strike was relatively light.

Dark grunted like a wounded duck as he went down. Something fell out of the offending hand, glistening, clinking its glass on the asphalt.

Wait. Glass? Why glass? He expected the metal of a knife or brass knuckles.

But Dark could answer that later. He moved to the left, looking every which way as he did. The predators on the street preferred to work in packs, so he found it odd that he saw no others.

Then the corner of his eye spotted movement in the very corner he was retreating towards. Urgently he turned away, but then something flashed, much stronger than the sparkle of glass, and his body contorted as it was hit by a powerful blast of voltage. The last thing his eyes registered in the mounting haze was a swift movement just in front of him. Towards him.

He blacked out.

Chapter 3

A Father’s Wrath

Total stat levels: 5

Character level: 0

Mastery level: 0

He woke in a sizable, unusual room. Its walls were bare, but so detailed that his eyes fought to place his location. Either he was seeing immense amounts of work by interior designers or minimal, primitive work on the raw product of nature itself. No plastics, nor any other synthetic materials. The heavy rocks gave the instant impression of impregnability. It seemed like they were simply placed, without any mortar, but Dark doubted that.

The rough wooden door, reinforced with bars of iron, was tall and narrow, and complemented by window slits showing off multicolored glass that was impossible to see through and barely even let light through. Candles provided the main lighting for the place. They were positioned at intervals, in fittingly rough bronze candlesticks. The smell reminded him of a beehive, so the wax was natural.

Why would such creative interior designers use such outdated lighting? Was Dark hallucinating? That happened with a cleanse sometimes. He was sitting in a massive wooden armchair, unable to move an inch, so this new theory was a likely one. All of his limbs were fettered, in shackles as strong as the walls of the place. No flimsy handcuffs, no zip-ties, no cheap ropes. Outside, in the real world, this wouldn’t have made sense.

Why use wax candles and ancient binding systems when modern lamps and cutting-edge restraints were widely available?

The door flew open, the creak echoing throughout the chamber, reluctant to leave its walls. A man of predictably odd appearance entered. He had a sleeveless gray jacket cut of coarse, thick leather and matched with trousers of the same material. Beyond that, he had a strange belt – over six inches in width and chaotically decorated with polished brass rings. He carried a hefty cleaver around his belt, on his left side. His face was long, pale, unhealthy looking, and his hair was long and discolored, cut so that on his sides it only ran to his shoulders, but on his back it ran down much further.

Strangest of all were the two, pointed ears that poked out, through his hair. What, is he trying to play an elf? Is this a mod? No, he was dressed too unfashionably for that.

This contradiction was approaching the only item Dark had seen so far which had the presumption of elegance: a chair carved of light wood, with a tall back and head rest. The man placed the chair in front of Dark, then left without saying a word.

Someone else came to take his place. This one looked like a regular person. Well, his clothes did, anyway. He wore a stern business suit and tie, finished off with a pair of shoes polished to a shine. No elven ears. No mythological features at all, in face. Eurasian human features. The man took too good care of himself for Dark to easily guess his age. He was forty, or perhaps fifty. His face wore the look of a man who had kept the world in his pocket for decades.

Sitting on the chair his forebearer had placed, the stranger stared at Dark without emotion. “Do you understand what is happening?”

Dark nodded, barely. “Pretty well. I’m in a chair, and you’re in a chair. You’re free to move. I’m not.”

“So you do not,” the man stated. “You once earned your living in virtual battles. You are a cyberfighter. Right?”

Dark didn’t like his line of work being spoken about in the past tense. And out of all the sins he could think of that would make other people tie him to a chair, none of them were virtual activities. Who could he possibly have gotten so upset? Other than the people who had bet against him. But nobody kidnapped upsets. That was absurd.

So Dark just nodded.

“Alright, cyberfighter, what can you tell me about this place?”

“That I don’t like it.”

“I understand. It seems your last battle had quite a traumatic effect on you. You have still not recovered from its effects. Too much escapes your notice.”

“Or maybe I haven’t recovered from what happened after the battles.”

The stranger nodded. “Your reaction time is good. My people had to taze you. Then they gave you some drugs which are not, shall we say, the most elucidating. Among other things.”

“If I owe you money, or if you have some other complaint against me, let’s settle it.”

“You prefer to get right down to issues. Very well. Tell me, then, do you remember Mila?”

“Which Mila?”

“Which? Do you really know more than one Mila? Well, then look at me. See my face? Anything you recognize about it?”

Dark strained his eyes and his brain and saw a touch of Asian features in the man’s appearance, enough to hazard a guess. “Mila Kim? Are you a relative of hers or something?”

“I am her father.”

“I don’t owe her anything, nor you.”

“That is your opinion, and in this we are in disagreement. You and my daughter were seeing each other for a while, if I have heard correctly. You had a relationship.”

“You can call it whatever you want. We just screwed, that’s all. I didn’t beat her, I certainly didn’t rape her, and I wasn’t her first guy, nor her last. There was nothing special between us. She wasn’t a strict girl, you know. Easygoing. So I just don’t see a reason for this shakedown. If she’s pregnant, well, the child isn’t mine. I haven’t seen her in a long time.”

“Mila is dead.”

“Dead? Oh no. I’m sorry. She was always so cheerful, so full of life. When did this happen?”

“Forty-seven days back.”

“I haven’t seen Mila for almost a year now. If you’re saying I had something to do with her death, well, I have an alibi. Forty-seven days ago, I was an inpatient at the hospital. Serious injuries, neural recovery, and circuit regeneration, secondary synth circuits. You can go verify that, if you’d like.”

“No. I know you didn’t kill her.”

Dark shook his head. “Then why am I here?”

“You said you were neither the first nor the last man she was with.”

“That’s right. I’m sorry if this is a shock, but your daughter didn’t believe in strict relationship norms.”

“My people have found seventeen men, including you. All of them were her lovers, at one time or another.”

“Exactly. Did you sit all of the other sixteen on this chair? Is it our fault that your daughter preferred, well, variety?”

“No, I haven’t. Not all sixteen. You weren’t easy to find right away, since you were in hiding. The rest, they weren’t so difficult.”

A deep worry was mutating in Dark’s foggy mind. He could see now: he was being held captive by a sociopath. Kidnapping every boyfriend his daughter had ever had?

There was something very wrong with that.

What was this, a game to him?

Kim continued, his gaze just as indifferent as ever.

“Mila mixed twenty full doses of stardust with absinthe and drank it. She left a note. It was very short. In it, she pronounced a curse on ‘him.’ Whoever ‘he’ is, she didn’t say. Sadly enough for you. And sadly enough for your sixteen, uh, accomplices. So I had to invite all of you here, one after another. And explain to each and every one of you why you should not have done that to my girl.”

“Your daughter and I had a decent breakup! Actually, we didn’t even break up. We just spent a few nice evenings together, that’s all. No talk of love, of commitment, of relationship. This sort of thing happens often. It’s normal.”

“Yes, it happens. But this was my daughter. I loved my daughter as the girl she used to be. A cute, naive little girl. And now she’s gone. Gone forever. I cannot fix that – no one can. But I do know the seventeen suspects. One of them put her in the ground.”

“Logically it should be the last of them.”

“I don’t see it that way.”

“So you’ve decided to kill me. How original.”

“Kill you? No. No need to worry about that. I can even give you my word that the thought has not crossed my mind, and will not. That would be a guaranteed method to punish the killer, yes. But no, that’s not for you. I’ve never planned to kill you. What’s more, I will do everything I can to keep any physical harm from coming to you.”

“Oh, that’s a relief. You’re so trustworthy thus far.”

“I have many faults, yes. But I do not speak unless I mean it. My word is law, for others and for myself. You will not die by my hand, nor by my command, nor even by my tacit hints that you be dispatched with.”

“If we traded places, would you believe me when I said that to you?”

“No one will lay a finger on you. On your body. Enough of this, though. What’s your name?”

“You don’t know?”

“You’ll understand why I ask in a moment. Just tell me your name. It’s not so hard.”

“D... Dar... Darnit! What the hell is this?”

“Come on now. Your name.”

“I’m guessing it won’t surprise you that I don’t remember my own name. Only the stage name I had last fight, that’s all I can recall. What did your goons shoot me up with?”

“I’m no expert, so I don’t know the chemical details. Several drugs. A cocktail. The first dose knocked you out. Then, we transported you to Slavonia. Perhaps politics isn’t your thing, so let me explain. Slavonia is a unique country. Well, ‘country’ isn’t the right word. A unique territory. Many, shall we say, internal difficulties, along with a bizarre foreign policy. This is common in today’s Eastern Europe, of course, but Slavonia is a special case. The Slavonians have a ravenous, pervasive curiosity. Their legislative system is a place lions and dragons fear to tread. But some people can turn this fault into a feature and run businesses that would not be possible elsewhere. There is even more to the story: West Slavia, a part of the young state that broke away in a military coup. Eleven years have passed, and yet the consequences are still evident. This new country is not currently recognized by any other country in the world, and a number of important people have a deep interest in keeping it that way. The laws of West Slavonia are even more unusual than those of Slavonia, and subject to a number of interpretations. Yet the area is urbanized, with highly developed industry. That includes decent telecommunications infrastructure. These high-powered communications lines, in conjunction with the flexible legislation of the area, allows us to run Internet projects here which cannot be run anywhere else. Some of the modifications we’ve made to your mind have blocked out certain memories. Such as your real name. Then, you were placed into a sort of coma. I’m not about to share the details, but it was used early on in VR development to boost simulations of reality. Not a very widespread technology, of course. It doesn’t work well on everyone, and there can be side effects. Thankfully, it worked on you, perhaps because of your experience with eSports.”

Dark raised an eyebrow. “Wait. We’re... we’re inside?”

“Yes.”

“Nonsense. I’ve seen virtual reality week in and week out for years. All platforms, all scenes. But the models here are far too realistic. Perfectly realistic. None of the systems are this good.”

“Some of them are. Have you ever heard of X?”

“A plaything for porn addicts.”

“Hmm. I suppose you’ve only heard rumors.”

“Maybe. Just before your crooks kidnapped me, I saw an advertisement. It looked like a porn ad.”

“That makes sense. But it means you know nothing about X. Well, let me explain: this is a unique virtual reality world. Unparalleled. It has running, simultaneously, two bleeding-edge mechanics: first, an unpredictable and changing world controlled by artificial intelligence, without operators, powered by that intelligence and by the resources of all of its users’ brains. Simply put, this virtual world is supported not only by an AI but also by the minds of the millions plugged into it. This you see around you is created not just by the machine, but by the people within. People including you and me. Our brains perfect the reality created by the soulless machine. Whenever flaws appear in the AI’s creation, your brain hides them from your consciousness via integrated precognition. That’s why everything you do see seems indistinguishable from the real world. Other newer technologies have also been used here, but they’re not unique to X. For example, this place has one hundred percent sensation. You’re used to that, right?”

“Arena sensations are synthesized.”

“Why?”

“Natural sensations could kill you if the governors fail. And bootleg equipment often fails, so they don’t take the risk.”

“Ah, I didn’t know that. Here in X there are no synthetic sensations. Everything is real.”

“Right. Hence the porn addicts.”

“You’re right about that part. Realizing your most private, often most criminal sexual fantasies can be expensive. Experiencing sensations that are indistinguishable from real ones is priceless. But there is a dark side: pain. The pain is also real.”

“If the sensations are really as high level as you claim, this game will run out of players soon.”

“Practice has proved otherwise. X was released not long ago, but it’s already in the top five games. X and its active user count are growing. The game world is divided into zones with varying levels of sensation, from zone 1 to zone 9. In a zone 9, users feel only ten percent of what they would in real life. But in a zone 1, they feel fifty percent, which is usually enough to be indistinguishable.”

“A full half of real sensations?” Dark blinked. “More than enough to kill you in cleanse. Not everyone would die, of course, and not in all cases, but people with any pain tolerance problems would be at extreme risk.”

Kim nodded. “So players sign a contract that clearly waives any and all claims in the event that they voluntarily enter dangerous game areas. And to further reduce risk, nearly all zone 1s and zone 2s are safe locations, inaccessible locations, or outright unused locations. Places that are hard to get to, or where it is very difficult to be exposed to harm and danger. But the game is not complete. There are still some locations that fall outside of these safety lines, where fifty percent of pleasure and pain alike are felt. Getting into these areas isn’t easy. You need to get lucky, and you need a whole party of strong squadmates, plus an elite account—which is too expensive for most. But you have been granted an elite account! Or at least it has been granted to us on your behalf. So now, you have full access. You can go wherever you’d like. This zone we are currently located in is one of these level 1 zones. Ah, yes, our specialists handled the creation of your character. I’m sad to say this, but you’ve been assigned a character from a ... rather defective race. Before the release, the developers experimented a great deal with races, developing many options. Some were discarded—well, archived—like the one you belong to. It was considered a failure. But I asked someone very nicely, and he agreed to pull it out of the archive for me. It suits my purposes completely. Your character now has a special racial trait: sensations are enhanced by 100%. Meaning that while ordinary players experience 50% pain, you experience the full 100%. It’s no surprise, then, that this race was rejected. Quite a dangerous trait, don’t you think? Nobody wants more lawsuits. But you’re not going to sue anyone, isn’t that right? We’ve made an exception for you and the other sixteen. One hundred percent pain. Not only highly illegal, but also impossible for your synth. Unless it’s modified, which we have done. Due to these modifications, you will experience some complications controlling your in-game body for a few days. Thankfully, that will be the least of your problems. Since you’re not in the sharpest state of mind right now, I’ll lay this out plainly for you: a rich array of negative sensations is coming your way. You will be tortured. Day after day, week after week, month after month. No breaks.”

Dark’s reply was calm and confident. “That won’t work.”

“Why not?”

“Not without breaks. When you connect to a network of this level, you have to have a separate contract with the provider. Else you won’t be able to join the game. All of the providers track the synth readings of each user. The maximum amount of time for which a synther is allowed to be on the inside with sensation active is thirty-six hours. And that’s only if you’re in some war-torn country in Africa. Usually they won’t even give you thirty-six.”

“You’re right. Except for one thing. This isn’t a war-torn country in Africa. It’s Slavonia. Western Slavonia. Well, your physical body is in Western Slavonia, anyway. That changes many things, since this country allows things that would be unthinkable elsewhere. During the revolution’s redistribution of property rights, one of the key local providers underwent a change of ownership. The new owner has completely lost all ability to track online synthers, due to financial and legal matters, and due to the total lack of control over the reconfiguration of hacked equipment. I happen to know this for a certainty since, by a strange coincidence, one of the companies I tacitly own bought up this service provider. This event happened just after Mila’s death. So I began thinking about what these unique characteristics could gain for me. As you can see, they gained me a great deal. Now, you will remain here in this virtual world for as long as it takes to turn you into a human vegetable. Men are resilient, but no one can last forever. Sooner or later, we will find your limits. Don’t worry about your physical body. As I said, I guarantee its safety. You’re in a comatose state, as often happens with cyberfighters. Too many cleanses on cheap equipment. You know the deal. So your body has been moved to a Red Cross facility. A generous donation was made to the Red Cross from anonymous benefactors, on the condition that they provide the best of care and monitoring to their new patient. Trust me, your body will receive better care than it has ever known. You are also connected to the network with the newest prototype interface, more powerful than anything else on the market. Your body is in a capsule designed for space hibernation. Life support, constant monitoring, massage, reflexotherapy, and an electrical muscle stimulation system. A full alert system and redundant backups, generators, and communication lines are in place to guarantee your safety and continued connectivity. Your body will suffer neither malnutrition nor atrophy, for as long as it takes.”

Dark was growing understandably tense, so he tried another angle. “OK, let’s do things your way. Let this virtual torture rob me of all traces of sanity. What then? That won’t return your Mila to you. Nor will it ease her passing.”

He saw the first twinge of emotion in the man’s eyes. Not doubt, nor sadness, but something wolfish and cruel. “You’ve forgotten that you’re only one of seventeen. Some of your predecessors were weak. They reached their breaking point within just a few days. I began to feel more as each one became a mindless vegetable. Some of what was lost returned to me. Piece by piece I have recovered, by gazing into the crazed eyes of the bastards. Nothing but pain lives in their eyes anymore. Endless, unquenchable pain. I must finish what I have started by adding the final, seventeenth piece. I must break you, like I did the rest. Welcome to X. To a world where anything is possible. To a world where we can take your personality, your memories, your essence, and dissolve them into digital noise. I doubt you like this news, so before I leave you in The Spider’s care, remember that I’m guaranteeing your safety. I promise everything will be alright. No matter how long you last, I will take care of your body. My word is law. I only mean your physical form, of course. I cannot make any assurances regarding your mind.”

Dark grinned. “Then I guess it’s time to say goodbye. I have to get back outside.”

“You know that the 36-hour limit is set for a reason, right? That an uncontrolled exit can kill you if you’ve been in here for more than that? In a manner of speaking, your brain has already grown accustomed to X. An abrupt exit could be fatal. Disconnection under these circumstances can only be conducted in gradual stages, with the supervision of experienced physicians.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

“Fine, then, try to press that Exit button. Try to surprise me.”

Kim’s lips spread into a wolfish smile.

Chapter 4

The Spider’s Web

Total stat levels: 5

Character level: 0

Mastery level: 0

Cleanse was the most dangerous event a virtual fighter could undergo. But few people know about the pre-cleanse state of consciousness. It’s usually not particularly dangerous, but it can be.

The Spider had the ability to keep its victim in that state for an unbearably long amount of time. After five minutes, Dark was squealing like a bleeding pig, without even trying to resist. An hour passed before the cries ceased, his pharynx unable to utter them anymore as they shrank to a mix of heavy breathing, hissing, and moaning. The sadistically sophisticated Spider tormented his flesh in a stream of unprecedented ways. Most could not have been of his own devising, for no man has that amount of creativity. He must have mastered all of the literature on the torturer’s craft.

“Well? Why are your eyes squinted shut, eh? Don’t worry, I’m not going to burn them out. Not today, anyway. So let your eyes enjoy their day off! Tears of relief would be appropriate, even. How about I help you? I’ll just cut off your eyelids, but I’m warning you, they don’t grow back quickly.”

Dark decided that resistance was unlikely to help him and complied. There was nothing new to see. The place looked like the basement of some abandoned slum factory. Assorted tools of torment lined the walls, and a tin brazier to the side of the low door filled the room with the scent of burning coal. In the middle, Dark sat strapped to a massive piece that combined chair and table. This latter contraption could be turned and folded or unfolded to suit the torturer’s purpose.

The executioner himself was worthy of his nickname. His puny body looked like it had been artificially reduced in size. Four thin limbs protruded from it unnaturally. If his arms were shorter than his legs, it was not by much. His head was massive and unreasonably spherical, without a single hair to be seen, and all of the vices of humanity converged at once in his face. Contemplating that visage was torture by itself.

Still, if only the torment stopped at the face...

“I think it’s time we cut your nails. A nice manicure, and you won’t even have to pay for it!”

The Spider’s voice rattled with mockery, as always. The events of the past hour filled him with joy. He took extra joy in adding poor jokes to the physical torment. Dark had tried to prompt him to give up some kind of useful information at first, but soon had stopped. His attempts had only played into the torturer’s hands, giving him some perverted cause for self-justification.

“Ah, I will take your silence as a sign to proceed. Fine, you’ve convinced me. Free it is. Some customers say I cut their nails a bit too short, so I hope you’re OK with that. Shorter looks better on guys, you know, so I figure, why not just go as short as possible? I’m sure you love trying new things. New sensations. And without paying a single penny! Now, which hand shall we do first? Your left hand? Good choice! You right-handed people never give your lesser hand enough attention. Ah, the pincers are good and warm. Here we go!”

Dark grunted as his first nail was burned off. His ability to scream had gone hoarse long ago. A second nail followed, with Dark making the same sounds.

But with the third, something new happened.

+1 Tolerance. Your Tolerance has reached level 6!

What was this? Why did it seem familiar? Ah, yes, a system message. Common in virtual reality worlds. Dark had no experience with games that involved character development, but he had heard a lot about them. So being tortured would pump this Tolerance stat. He hadn’t noticed the previous five messages, probably due to the state of relative insanity in which he had lived for most of the day.

But how could he possibly have missed not one, not two, but five of these messages? Dark had always been observant. Kim had mentioned something about interference with his synth. Modifications. The synth was an artificial implant in the occipital lobe of the brain. Anyone age 14 or older could get one, as long as none of the rare contraindications were discovered during the prerequisite medical examination. It was a non-surgical procedure: a series of nanite injections. The nanites would travel to preset areas and combine with your neurons and with each other into the required structure.

The monsters who had kidnapped him must have done an immense amount of work to successfully modify his synth – idiosyncrasies of the local network provider notwithstanding. They had blocked his ability to receive system messages, too, by all appearances. Yet the assholes must have not realized that cyber fighters got shots of nanites nearly every day to mitigate the ill effects of frequent cleanses. There were plenty of available nanites in Dark’s body at any given moment. Perhaps they had managed to repair the recent damage to his synth, or at least some of it. Now, he could read messages about his Tolerance pumping.

And he would watch it get pumped to impossible new heights. Assuming nothing changed. If anything was going to change, it would have to be by some force other than Dark’s force of will. What could he do when he spent sixteen hours a day getting whipped, sliced, and jabbed, with the resulting wounds doused in salt and vinegar? Even a cursory list of Spider’s techniques would fill a dozen single-spaced pages. Double sided. An ingenious system of fetters held his body in place, and there was no way to escape them.

His only possible act of aggression was an occasional spit attack to Spider’s face. What was the point? The torturer wasn’t even mad when Dark spit at him. He just let out a wicked chuckle.

Outside, his situation would be hopeless. In the virtual world, though, free hands were not necessarily required. There were other indirect ways of affecting your environment. Chat systems, game skills, tech support, and most importantly, the Exit button. Pressing the Exit button would subject Dark to the most severe cleanse the synth industry had seen, but he would not hesitate to press it.

Anything to escape this basement.

Even if it meant the end of his life.

Right now, though, he couldn’t even think. The measliest drop of mental effort is impossible when your skin is being flayed off or hot tongs are being drilled into your flesh. At the end of the day, Spider would leave Dark until morning came. The victim would be unable to sleep. His position was uncomfortable as it was, without all of the pain and suffering piled on top of it. And the wild train of thoughts crashing through his head. He suffered in half-consciousness, a shallow imitation of sleep, yet devoid of coherent thought and sense of time. None of his sluggish attempts at using the game’s features made any progress.

He didn’t even get anything resembling a response. With his synth damaged, his capabilities were limited – it had no connection to the game interface, or a spotty one, at best.

Kim – Mila’s father, that is – knew what he was talking about. He was going to destroy Dark’s mind. Already Dark felt like he was drowning, unable to concentrate on anything, his mind degrading rapidly. If that was due to the consequences of the illegal, potent injections and synth modifications that eased his insertion into the metaverse, it would have passed by now. Yet he still couldn’t think clearly.

And things would only get worse and worse, until he was done for.

Until he became a vegetable, just as Kim had promised.

Everyone had their limits, and Dark was rapidly approaching his. During his rich fighting experience, he had grown accustomed to pain, but despite the cheap advertisements published by the organizers of his old fights, he had never experienced one hundred percent sensation. The synth would not allow it, and neither would the providers. Plus, the low-quality software that powered the underground arenas further reduced realism and sensation. The operators of the black market fights couldn’t afford serious developers. A team of them cost nine figures. If memory served, mega-worlds like X cost ten figures to build.

Of course, if his synth was being repaired, he might begin seeing more than just progress notifications from the system. Other more useful functions might just come and give him his chance.

But if so, would that happen before Dark lost his sanity?

Chapter 5

Race Power

Total stat levels: 5

Character level: 0

Mastery level: 0

Attention: You have not chosen a name in the required three-day period! The game interface is locked. To unlock the interface, select an in-game name for yourself.

What the... Dark’s back arched in pain as a red-hot iron pressed against him. He failed to comprehend what he was seeing. Picking a decent name was hard enough. It was impossible while being tortured. Dark applied every last bit of mental energy he could to the task. Nothing.

What had the message said about the interface?

Dammit, Spider! Demon bastard. Stupid beast! Give me a second to figure out what the system wants from me!

It wanted his name. Why? And what was the three-day period about? Wait... His inability to access the menu apparently had nothing to do with his synth being damaged.

The bastards had created a character for Dark without a name.

Then, they had held him unconscious here for 72 hours. Once the deadline hit, the game locked him out of some features. Any attempt to call up a menu or other function would prompt a demand for his name. And had he continued to be unable to see system messages, he would have been indefinitely powerless.

Kim’s people had thought of everything. Almost everything.

The torture was not strong enough at this moment to prevent Dark from doing this small thing. The game wanted a name. He would give it the only name that came to mind.

Attention: You have selected a name. Game interface unlocked. Here’s some key information about your character!

Name: Dark. You are short and dark-skinned and strike like a dagger from the shadows.

Race: Ethrian One of the ancient races forgotten by the gods, with undecided values, trapped between light and darkness.

Race Perk: +50% sensation. An Ethrian suffers like none other.

Special Power: Avalanche of Feeling. Active skill. Activating this skill increases sensation by 100%. Magic energy cost: 50. Duration: 30 seconds. Cooldown: 1 hour.

Despite the intolerable pain allowing him only flickers of conscious thought, Dark found a grin somewhere within himself. Kim had picked the perfect race for his ends. It was worthless. Its only purpose was pain and suffering. Nothing else in the world of X could experience such pain.

What could he do now? Attempts to dig deeper into the menu failed to give him what he wanted. It seemed the Settings sub-menu with the Exit button he wanted so badly was completely gone. The chat system looked active, but with no option to contact tech support. Either that was impossible from this playing area, or he needed to know a tech support employee’s nickname in order to start a chat with him.

Wait, what’s this? Another active skill: Create Resurrection Point. It cost half of current magic energy and took ten hours to cool down. So if a person were to die during the course of the game, he would revive at the set point. But a remote point couldn’t be set. All he could do was set his current location.

Damn. He really did have nothing he could do but double his pain once an hour, for thirty seconds. As if he wasn’t already on the verge of life and death. The Spider had summoned the gloomy man in the crimson robe once again. Without a word, he would wave his staff and cast a healing spell on Dark and then begin the torture anew. Without this game ability, the Spider would have long ago tormented his victim to death.

Wait. He had a thought. It came to him in a moment of clarity – or insanity.

“Hmm, the coals have already gone cold!” Spider guffawed in his usual attempt at humor. “Don’t worry, my boy, we won’t freeze. I’ll go fetch some new ones! They’ll hurt a little, but don’t take it personally. It’s just my line of work, you know.”

At the torturer’s mention of a fresh surge of pain, Dark finally grasped that elusive thought.

Pain was what he needed.

It was not only suffering – it was his way out, at last.

What would double the pain do to him? Any of a number of things, from full loss of consciousness to his synth hanging. Maybe even death. After all, his outside body was tightly connected to his in-game body. The sensations were virtual, but they were indistinguishable from real ones. It was rumored that a top hypnotist could touch you with a pencil and just claim it was a smoldering cigar, and you’d be left with a burn mark on your skin. Something of the sort was about to happen.

And Dark didn’t mind if it killed him. Better to die in a moment than to have his mind burned out of him, piece by piece.

“Ah, the coals are ready!” Spider mocked, as Dark’s back exploded in unbearable pain.

Well, Dark was about to make it unbearable, anyway.

Voluntarily.

Clenching his teeth, he somehow dragged his ability’s icon to his combat panel and mentally activated it.

This immediately proved that “unbearable” had not been an exaggeration. The rush of agony was so fierce that Dark lost consciousness immediately.

* * *

Negative effect received: unconsciousness. You will become conscious again in 60 seconds.

Dark was still alive.

But he had to wait the sixty seconds now. The game would not allow him to do anything else. Sadly, the game did not allow its menu to be accessed while unconscious, or at least he didn’t know how to access the menu.

A wet sponge ran over his lips, and he heard the Spider rebuke him in an uncharacteristically normal voice as he shook his head.

“You gave me a scare there! I had to resort to some magic. We’ve healed you up just a bit. No need to frighten us like that; you’re in good hands here! I’ll give you an hour to rest and recover your strength. Then we can resume our little game! Remember not to take it personally. It’s my job, coming here day after day to spend time with you. At first you held up admirably, better than the others, but I guess we just broke you in. Knocked you right out. I was just trying to warm your back up a bit, you know. So don’t do that again, or I’ll get angry. And I may not be a very large man, but you won’t like me when I’m angry.”

The door slammed behind the beast as he left. At last Dark was alone. But his situation had hardly improved. Still he sat in the same chair-table hybrid, his arms, legs, waist, and neck bound in steel fetters and chains. His only skill had just been used, and there was no way he could remove his shackles.

He was helpless.

There were a few things, though. By doubling his pain sensitivity and nearly killing himself, he had earned some medical treatment and a breather. It would be brief, but worth it.

Dark had at last forced the Spider to play by his rules. He had interrupted the torturer’s plan.

Rather than breaking on the system, he had bent it a little.

Of course, the bend was so insignificant that no one would even notice it. But it was better than nothing, right?

In one hour, Dark would pull the same trick again. That would earn him another breather.

Either that, or fry his brains.

Chapter 6

Technical Issues

Total stat levels: 5

Character level: 0

Mastery level: 0

“You’re letting me down, my boy. Enough of this fainting, or Mr. Kim will be quite unhappy. And so will I. An unhappy Mr. Kim is not something you want to see. A worse sight than an angry spider, let me tell you. Look, you get one half hour to recover your spirits. But then we’ll have some hard work to do to make up for lost time. No answer, eh? I didn’t pull your tongue out this time, you know. How about I bring you a beer? No? Are you more of an ale person? I’m feeling kind today, you see – I’m worried about you. Since you don’t feel like answering, I think we’ll make that less than a half hour. After all, you’ll get lonely otherwise, won’t you? So don’t worry, I’ll be back, and with some fresh coals!”

The door closed behind the torturer for the sixth time in a row. Half a dozen times, now, Dark had activated his only ability. How he was still alive was beyond him. He was exhausted, but holding on to life and sanity both. Of course, perhaps each spike of pain was chipping away at his brain. Would he even know if it was? The pain was far too much even for a seasoned virtual fighter. If pieces of him were dying, eventually he would collapse.

He would die in the real world.

Despite all of this torture, I still don’t want to die... The mage and his healing staff not only treated his wounds but also removed a significant amount of the pain. Dark almost felt good. And when he felt good, he felt like delaying his own death as much as he could.

He was so young, after all. He had experienced so little of life. Perhaps less of real life than virtual life. Now, he had to kill himself because of this maniac’s false accusations.

Dark wouldn’t wish this on his worst enemy.

Of course, as soon as the Spider was back, Dark’s wish to survive would evaporate. Simply by walking in the door, Spider gave him an inexorable desire to cut his own throat.

Then the stale air, saturated with the smells of burnt flesh, sweat, and coal, began to move. There was no time to wonder, no time to be surprised: In an instant, a huge column of blinding light shot up from the floor to the ceiling. Out of it stepped a tall, ideally muscled man with a cherub’s visage and angelic garb clinging to him like a second skin.

The stranger stared impassively into Dark’s eyes and spoke with absolute monotony. “Greetings, Dark. I am an in-game emergency bot. You can call me Emergency Bot 25, or simply Emergency Bot. My deepest apologies for interrupting your gameplay experience. Your game experience has deviated significantly from game norms. For eleven days, you have not changed your coordinates. You have been online for an unacceptably long time. In addition, your level of sensation is unacceptably high. The system has recorded six peaks of sensation which have broken all in-game records. Are you satisfied with your game experience, Dark?”

“Do I look satisfied?”

“I do not understand. Please answer the question directly.”

“No, I am not satisfied.”

“What is wrong?”

“You wouldn’t understand. I need a human.”

“Try to express your problem in terms I will understand. What is your complaint?”

“Can’t you see I’m in real trouble? Can I speak to a tech support person?”

“I can resolve any problem related to ordinary gameplay without human intervention. What is the problem? Are you stuck in a buggy location?”

“Can’t you already see I’m stuck? Connect me to a real person. Not a bot, a human. I need tech support. Badly.”

“I’m sorry, but direct in-game tech support is not available at your characters level. The human tech support team only acts directly in the world of X in critical situations. However, you can exit the game and file a bug report. Your report will be evaluated as quickly as possible, and any appropriate action will be taken regarding your account once a decision has been made.”

“I can’t exit the game.”

“Use the Exit button.”

“It doesn’t work here,” Dark lied, realizing that he could not let this bot leave under any circumstance.

This stupid piece of code had to help him somehow here and now, not direct him to file a report on the outside.

“The Exit button is active in all locations,” the bot insisted. “It is an integral part of the game interface and is located in the Main Menu.”

“There’s something wrong with it here,” Dark pushed in desperation. “Once I exit the game, I will describe the bug in detail in a bug report. But in order to exit the game, I have to somehow exit this location first. Otherwise, I will be forced stay here. And I will continue to suffer. Do you know what will happen if the pain kills me? You will all be in serious trouble. That will have permanent negative consequences for X’s reputation. So please move me out of this location and I will file a bug report.”

The bot spoke after five seconds of silence. “There is a precedent for this situation from the game alpha. An emergency procedure was decided upon for a case like yours. 1x unique consumable Scroll of Random Teleport for your race has been placed in your inventory. It cannot be discarded or sold, and it will disappear in one hour if you do not use it. To use it, you can open it with your hands. Or, you can activate it directly from your inventory. After use, you will find yourself in a random location matching your race. Once again, my deepest apologies for interfering with your gameplay experience.”

The bot turned and stepped back into the column of light, and both rapidly disappeared into the ceiling.

Dark grinned wildly and opened his inventory, but he did not yet activate the scroll.

He would wait for the Spider to return.

* * *

“I hope you didn’t miss me much,” the Spider mocked.

“You know, you won’t believe this, but I really did miss you.”

“I’m having trouble believing that. No one really misses me. Oh wait! Could it be? My first real case of Stockholm Syndrome? Or... are you falling for me, you little pervert?”

“No, Spider, I’m not gay.”

“You know what, I’ll take that as a challenge. I give it five minutes before you’re screaming that you love me.”

“You’ll lose that bet. I can guarantee it. Find something more interesting.”

“Oh? Looks like that bit of rest did you a lot of good. You haven’t talked this much for a long time. So I’ll start with your tongue. I miss the silence. You won’t mind, will you?”

“You’re not starting anywhere, Spider. I could barely restrain myself while I waited for your return. You know why?”

“Because you didn’t have a choice. Waiting is all you can do, buddy. So you waited.”

“You’re wrong. I do have a choice. I just had something to tell you first.”

“Well, let’s hear it before I rip your tongue out. But I’d better laugh, or I’m ripping other things off, too.”

“I’ll find you. Not here. Outside. No matter where you are, some day you will realize I’m behind you. You’ll turn, and the last thing you see will be me, smiling down at you.”

Dark activated the teleport scroll, and the world became as white and empty as his inventory.

Chapter 7

Bewilderment

Total stat levels: 5

Character level: 0

Mastery level: 0

You have used a Scroll of Random Teleport. You have left Agdei Ridge. You have entered the Central Wastes of Ethria. This is a forgotten land of suffering, where all things have long since turned to dust.

Dark collapsed, his body unable to maintain a sudden standing position after spending so long on the torture table. Face forward he went, snapping the branches of some ugly species of bush. The thorns scratched deep in several places.

2 damage taken.

Dark was surprised to see that message. The Spider had done him orders of magnitude more damage than these pointless thorns, but he had not received any messages. Perhaps his synth was functioning more fully now.

There was no way to find out.

He sat up with difficulty, crossed his legs, and looked around to get a feel for the area. There was nothing in the area, save more dried-up, unfriendly bushes. A few gnarled trees poked out from the bushes in the near distance, but they seemed devoid of leaves. A low veil of leaden clouds hung precariously from the sky, bathed in the ambiguous twilight of morning or evening. Only a gray loincloth served Dark as clothing. Goosebumps covered his flesh.

He shivered. Half from the cold, half from bewilderment.

What should he do now? His escape had been unplanned, and his tortured mind was still a mess, but he knew that he was free to do anything he wanted as long as it ended with some result other than the one he feared.

He could not return to the Spider.

Would Kim’s people be able to find Dark? He had no idea.

But he knew that these games had all kinds of dangers for the players. There was no information available on his location, other than its desolation. Perhaps it only seemed desolate, though, and the average player here succumbed to some terrible monster within minutes. What would happen if Dark were to die? He would end up back where Kim’s people had pumped him full of drugs and hacked his synth. Where they had established his respawn point.

He didn’t know what precise location that was.

But I bet it’s the Spider’s lair. He would wake up to the renewed smells of coal and burnt meat. And the flaming touch of an angry spider’s fangs.

Dark kneeled down, unsure what the procedure was for his other ability. He activated it.

Error: You cannot create a respawn point here.

Damn.

He looked at another bush and tried again.

Error: You cannot create a respawn point here.

Where could he create a respawn point? The game seemed to be playing with him at this point. Dark might have lost his temper at the bastards who developed this game, but upon the third attempt, the system realized that this stubborn idiot needed more information.

Error: You cannot create a respawn point here. You have made three failed attempts in one minute. Perhaps you should change your location first. You must select a site that stands out from the general appearance of the location. Ideal sites include rocks of unusual shape, ancient ruins, massive boulders left by glaciers, moss-covered tombs of long-forgotten heroes, gigantic tree stumps, and other objects visible from a distance.

At last he felt like he was getting somewhere. His respawn point could not be a secluded location like this one. All of these hideous bushes looked very much alike. Instead, he had to find something that stood out.

So, Dark, should you get up and get looking? All it would take was stumbling into any one monster here, and Dark would be back in the torturous maw of another.

He had to conduct his search as carefully as possible.

Rather than stand, he would crawl along through the bushes, freezing at any hint of sound.

He squinted at the horizon. It seemed like a stone was poking out of the ground not far from his position. Perhaps it would serve as a respawn point.

Chapter 8

Stonehenge

Total stat levels: 5

Character level: 0

Mastery level: 0

The stone was actually a huge, curved root. Sadly, it also did not work as a respawn point. Nor had he found any highly visible tree stumps, only a fallen tree which had likewise failed to meet the system’s criteria.

Twilight was slowly invading. Visibility did not improve, especially from Dark’s position. He had nearly resigned himself to the fact that he’d be crawling like this for hours when he spotted the flat top of a rock that rose above the thorns. Why was it here, when there was nothing else of stone in the whole area?

Perhaps this world looked and felt real, but he realized it probably still contained all sorts of logical inconsistencies.

As cautious as ever, he shifted towards the rock. He paused every few bushes to listen intently. Even though the rock was only a hundred paces away at most, it took him at least five minutes to reach it. The thickets thinned out into an open space about the size of a basketball court. Twelve roughly hewn stone blocks were arranged in six pairs around the area’s perimeter. A stone on its side bridged each pair. It was one of these top rocks that Dark had noticed from afar, mistaking it for the highest point of a natural rock.

This was the local analog of Stonehenge. Its dimensions were much smaller, but the stones were several tons each. Yet the area had been abandoned long ago and was now overgrown with shrubs and stained dirty green by the moss covering it. Would this work as an “ancient ruin”? That hint had even mentioned something about moss.

Hold your horses.

The trees beyond were a promising hiding spot for any adversaries, so Dark stayed put. Only after a few minutes of silence did he head for the nearest rock.

If the system rejected this as a suitable respawn point, he’d have to look for something like the Great Pyramid.

He had only three steps left to go when the moss covering the ground left of the stones began to move. It broke in several places, and a crunching, clanging armored skeleton emerged. Green flames flickered in the nightmare’s eye sockets, and its hand clutched a long, rusty sword.

Dark’s breath did not catch, nor did he scream. Nor did he move the three paces to stand atop the mossy burial ground of armored skeletons. He ran the other direction at full speed. It was logical to assume that this terrible developer creation took a hit to its speed from all of that armor and its heavy-looking blade.

Sadly, logic was not the ruler of this world. Dark sprinted a few hundred yards, but the clanging and bone-knocking behind him did not cease. Instead, it grew closer. With the cursed bushes tearing at his feet and the rotten tree trunks forcing him to hurdle them, he could go no faster. They even brought him down head over heels a couple of times, but his pursuer experienced no such encumbrance. It must have had night vision.

A few minutes later, Dark was horrified to realized he would imminently fall flat from exhaustion. Perhaps the eleven days of torture had weakened him – or perhaps his real-world physical shape did not matter here, and he would tire quickly.

A wall of impassable bushes rose into the gloomy air ahead of him. Dark knew that the rusty sword was inches behind. In desperation, he charged through the bushes. Thorns ripped at his flesh.

1 damage taken.

But he was through!

And it seemed there were no similar obstacles ahead.

The next moment, the earth slipped out from under Dark’s feet as he went into an uncontrollable spin. He scrambled. This position was unlikely to help him avoid significant damage.

But he was too late: The blow came in strong and painful. His body landed on an uneven slope and slid a few meters before crashing sideways into something hard.

124 damage taken. Critical damage: broken leg. Critical damage: two broken ribs.

Goddammit! How would he get away now?

Holding back an explosive scream, Dark clenched his teeth, curled up, and froze, trying to breath as quietly as possible. What else could he do? He hoped the skeleton would lose sight of him and conclude he was defeated.

Up above, he heard the clang of metal and a sound like pebbles crunching. It was coming down after him.

Dark stopped breathing entirely. He strained his ears so he could deduce what actions the mighty corpse was taking. The skeleton wandered in circles, still giving its position away with sinister crunches and peals of bone and metal.

A few minutes later, though, Dark heard something new cut through the darkness. This sound, he did not recognize. It seemed someone was pounding one stone against another in imitation of a galloping horse. Then a light flared in the darkness and jerked sharply upwards. Dark could see the skeleton now, thirty yards away. Now, though, it held not only the rusted sword but also a huge torch that illuminated everything within a few steps around.

Great. A nimble, smart skeleton who knows how to make fire.

There was no sense for Dark to keep pretending he wasn’t there. He climbed up on his three good limbs, dragging his fourth behind him, and went directly for the creature of bones.

An observer might chalk this up to his limited sanity, but he knew his intentions. The torch had illuminated Dark’s only known hope in this situation.

A massive stone. It was one of many stones here, but it stood out both due to its size and due to its near-perfect shape. Rounded, as it a giant had jammed its bowling ball straight down into the earth. Perhaps a stoneworker’s tools had once touched this rock, and it would count as an ancient ruin. If not, well, he hoped its visibility would score enough points to make it qualify.

It stood out sharply from the surrounding landscape.

The skeleton must have heard him gnashing his teeth. It rushed at him like a bleached, upright cockroach scurrying away from the boot seeking to kill it.

Everything came down to who made it to the rock first. Dark was only a few paces away, but he was crippled, not to mention exhausted in body and mind both. The skeleton was alive and well—if such words could be used to describe an undead thing. In any case, it moved quickly and suffered no weariness.

Dark surged forward in a lame man’s jump, stretching out his arms and screaming as his broken leg struck something hard. But he reached his goal, laying his palm on the rounded rock.

Are you sure you want to set this as your respawn point? Attention: Your current respawn point will become unavailable thirty-three hours after selecting a new one. Continue (yes/no)?

“Yes!” Dark screamed, mentally entering the command at the same time.

What kind of sadists created this place? Throwing a delay like that in when his death was imminent?

The air above his head whooshed aside as the rusty blade sliced through it.

Chapter 9

A Prisoner Again

Total stat levels: 5

Character level: 0

Mastery level: 0

Attention: Last respawn point selected. You have entered the Central Wastes of Ethria. This is the edge of the world, a place watered with the tears of hopes long lost and dreams long dashed, a cemetery of races long forgotten, or which were never known in the first place.

10 seconds to resurrection. 9...

Dark stared at the numbers counting down like a frozen rabbit watching a boa constrictor slither towards it. He knew exactly what would happen next. And there was nothing he could do to change it.

Respawn!

Dammit.

Either the darkness was now as thick as ink, or his eyes were unable to see anything for the first few seconds after respawn. As soon as Dark realized he had regained his body, he heard the terrible noise of rusty steel slicing through the air. Afterwards his neck twitched, and the pain made his vision go even darker, impossible as that seemed.

Attention: Last respawn point selected. You have entered the Central Wastes of Ethria. This is the edge of the world, a place watered with the tears of hopes long lost and dreams long dashed, a cemetery of races long forgotten, or which were never known in the first place.

10 seconds to resurrection. 9...

Darkness. A brief moment of sensation that he was no longer a disembodied spirit. The same terrible whistling of the sword.

So it went, time after time, for hours and perhaps days. Nothing screwed up a man’s sense of time like being killed over and over.

The cursed skeleton, damn its bones, had taken up post and patrol near the rock Dark had selected as his respawn point. After all, that was probably more fun than lying still under a bunch of wet moss.

Not more fun for Dark, though.

The sword whistled. Pain sliced through him. He lost consciousness.

Attention: You have died 100 times over a short time period. Characters below level 10 do not lose progress or skill points when they die, but we still recommend you modify your style of play. You can exit the game now and return later when the situation at your last respawn point is more favorable. Or you can select your old respawn point. Attention: Your old respawn point will become inactive in a matter of hours. Once it does, you will be unable to use it.

Take some time to think about your decision.

30 seconds to resurrection. 29...

Half a minute counted as “time to think”? Yes, based on his experience so far, that was the maximum time any of these developers ever thought about anything.

Which choice should he make? The old respawn point? After all, he was starting to feel some regret about disappointing Kim and the Spider. Not.

Exit the game? He would if he could, but his synth was still apparently damaged, and so the Exit option was unavailable.

What else could he do, then? Keep dying over and over until the skeleton collapsed from exhaustion?

His mind would probably collapse before that point. The level of sensation at this location was unknown but was obviously less than the location where he had experienced such exquisite torture for so many days. But decapitating blow after decapitating blow in a situation where you hardly have the time to open your eyes—that can wear a man down.

He was not only weak and weaponless, he was blind. His vision wasn’t activating in time to see his death happen.

Wait... He had seen something before dying the very first time. Just at the edge of his vision. In the thick darkness, the torch’s reflection was only visible in one direction. The stones of the incline and piles of his own bones were there.

But there was nothing at all in the other direction that reflected the torch’s light. Either open space lay there, or continuation of the cliff—meaning this area with his respawn point was on a narrow ledge.

If he rolled off of that drop-off, he might survive and be able to escape the skeleton.

But he would have to do it blind.

* * *

Attention: Last respawn point selected. You have entered the Central Wastes of Ethria. This is the edge of the world, a place watered with the tears of hopes long lost and dreams long dashed, a cemetery of races long forgotten, or which were never known in the first place.

10 seconds to resurrection. 9...

Suddenly he felt his body. And without hesitation, he dove to the side. His legs were disoriented. That confusion, like blindness, had happened with each and every resurrection. Dark had already tried to run in various directions, a dozen times now. More often than not, he got tripped up in the stones, and the skeleton sliced him in two before as many seconds had passed.

He needed more than two seconds.

His knee crashed into a sharp stone ledge. Howling in pain, Dark somehow rolled over the obstacle, landing in a squatting and jumping forward like a cripple toad. The sword swung and happily struck the rock behind him with a clang.

That was the first time the skeleton had missed, hitting stone instead of severing head.

Capitalizing on this success, Dark pressed on, and the darkness in his vision began clearing. To the left, he saw a space with no heaps of stone visible within it.

He surged that way and learned that he was correct: the cliff continued. He had leaped from the first ledge. Now, he would land on the next.

This was a leap of faith. His vision could make out a few steps ahead, but everything else melted into a mass of gray.

Dark lost the ground beneath his feet as he heard the whistle of rusted steel behind him. A sound like grinding teeth followed. Hopefully something nasty had happened to the skeleton.

But Dark kept flying downwards, until after a few seconds he realized that this fall would end in something worse than a few broken bones.

Chapter 10

Among the Stones

Total stat levels: 5

Character level: 0

Mastery level: 0

Attention: Last respawn point selected. You have entered the Central Wastes of Ethria. This is the edge of the world, a place watered with the tears of hopes long lost and dreams long dashed, a cemetery of races long forgotten, or which were never known in the first place.

10 seconds to resurrection. 9...

Dammit. His idea had worked as planned. But the cliff had been too high, and so the fall had killed him.

What could he do now? Tack on another death?

Respawn!

Dark reflexively rushed in a random direction, tripped over a stone, and fell flat with a painfully rocky blow to his chest. He cringed, fearing the whistling steel rapidly approaching his neck.

Personal victory! Skeleton Guard killed. Common mob. Level 22. Location sensation level: 10%. Personal sensation level: 60%. 1056 progress points received. In this fight, the following stats played a significant role: Acrobatics, Physical Evasion, Speed, Reaction, Luck.

Progress points distributed.

Acrobatics: 41

Physical Evasion: 82

Speed: 70

Reaction: 46

Luck: 817

Note: This is your first victory in the game. You receive a bonus +1 to any skill.

Note: This is your first victory against an opponent more than twenty levels stronger than you. You receive a bonus +3 levels, distributable among one to three skills of your choice.

What? Dark carefully raised his head and looked around, as if the system message was a bug or a trick. The skeleton was nowhere to be soon. Not that Dark was about to become careless, but he was quite happy at the solitude.

He stood to get a better look at the area. How long this mess had taken, he couldn’t tell, but it looked like dawn was approaching. Low clouds formed a tattered blanket, and a faint beam of light upward from a point at the horizon betrayed where the sun would make its entrance.

At last he could get a look at the place he had bound himself to. It was indeed right on the edge of a cliff which was quite steep in places. The doubly convex shape of the site was a little under thirty paces across at its widest point and about a hundred paces long. Dark found it strange that the skeleton had taken so long to find him at first—there was really nowhere to hide up here.

What had happened to the skeleton anyway? It must have gotten too carried away in the chase. Missing its first swing, it pursued Dark to the edge, swung again, and went over the edge, either from momentum or from pure zeal.

Right off the cliff.

Dark had never noticed a fear of heights before, but this place made him uncomfortable. Just inches away from his current position, a wall of rock plummeted downward, cut into blocks of assorted shapes and sizes by a bizarre network of cracks. Two hundred yards below, the plains continued, overgrown with those familiar stunted bushes and darkened with mysterious clearings. A few miles away, the plains at last encountered a winding river. On the other side, a forest stretched beyond, as far as the eye could see. Amongst the trees, Dark could make out yet more clearings, with what seemed to be outcrops of rock. Perhaps more local incarnations of Stonehenge, but they were too far away for Dark to be sure.

To his left, the wasteland inhabited by the miserable shrublings ran into a tight horseshoe bend in the river, and on the land inside the bend, some sort of ruins sat atop a patch of lush grass and other vegetation. It was two miles or so out, but he could see the straight lines of streets or large buildings. Something made him feel that the area was abandoned, but he couldn’t be quite sure.

Dark sat down on a flat stone and studied the lay of the land more intently, committing all he could to memory, straining to find landmarks and patterns that would help him navigate the monotony. A suspiciously straight line among the bushes here, an overly symmetrical hill there, and several other incomprehensible objects.

Half an hour later, Dark realized there was nothing more he could learn from here. The view was excellent, of course, but his eyes simply could not see anything more.

* * *

Damn this cliff! Damn the skeleton that drove me here! Damn this crumbly rock!

How could a wall this strong last the centuries if it broke at the slightest load? Some areas of the cliff were fragile. A mammoth might be able to climb one part and have its weight supported, but two feet further down, a cat would have trouble.

Ten seconds back, Dark had hit that area like a very heavy cat. Now, he hung from two fingers which he had miraculously managed to shove into a tiny hole as he slipped. There was no room for any more fingers. Nor could he shift right or left.

Nor could he hold this position for long. Yes, Dark was well trained. He could hold himself up with two fingers for a long time—in the real world. Here, those achievements meant nothing.

The cliff intervened in his plight.

Without warning, the rock he clutched with his fingers gave way, and he plummeted a hundred yards, pulling down the worthless handhold as he went.

He would wake up at the top of the cliff once more,
and have to climb down once more.

For the fourth time.

Chapter 11

Bad Bind

Total stat levels: 5

Character level: 0

Mastery level: 0

For the first time in many lives, his feet felt something other than hard stone. He was down. Sure, it had taken seven tries, but he was down at the bottom.

That was a worthy achievement for a person who had never possessed any interest in climbing and who had no equipment.

The system made sure to demonstrate that his success did not go without notice.

Note: Special skill unlocked: Rock Climbing. Every 10 levels of Rock Climbing you unlock will give you +1 Carrying Capacity and +1 Tolerance. Congratulations, this is the first special skill you have unlocked! You get a bonus +1 to any skill.

Dark was a rock climber, at least in this world.

So now what should he do? Look for the remains of that skeleton? The monster had fallen from two hundred yards up, and with all the bushes and stones around, finding it might take hours. Dark doubted the rusty sword would be worth it. He would rather set a new respawn point somewhere. After all, death would now mean respawning up on high, and climbing down would mean lost time at the very least. Probably a lot of pain, too.

Dark hated falling. Perhaps he really was afraid of heights.

He selected a nice looking rock and attempted to bind a new respawn point.

Nope.

Error: You cannot create a respawn point here.

Dark tried a few more times before admitting defeat. Perhaps the game simply didn’t like that this point was located so close to the old one, at least if vertical distance was discounted. Or maybe these rocks just weren’t cool enough. There was nothing fancy about them.

He moved away from the cliff, through the bushes. Thirty steps later, he no longer had any rocks to try as respawn points. They just didn’t roll that far after a drop straight down. And though this place was significantly remote, nothing in it was remotely significant.

Dark was afraid that any other suitable sites he found among the bushes would be guarded by skeletons, so he headed back towards the cliff at a tangent. A loud noise from behind him reinforced his decision. It sounded quite a bit like the stomping of a sizable beast.

Soon he located a boulder with a bizarre shape to it. In fact, it looked like a crude sculpture. From the proper angle, it resembled a male reproductive organ, complete with the standard accompaniments. And as erect as the Washington Monument.

Dark was hardly surprised when the game allowed him to choose this replica of a human spawn point as his own respawn point. But that wasn’t all the system had to tell him.

Hint: You are tired and thirsty. Your Stamina is falling. If it reaches 0, your ability to fight and move will be severely reduced and you will begin losing health. Make sure your character always has enough food, drink, and sleep.

The rock pointed east, and though it was still morning, the sun had cooked Dark as he was climbing down the face of the cliff. He wanted a drink badly and only knew of one water source in the area.

Chapter 12

The River

Total stat levels: 5

Character level: 0

Mastery level: 0

Something rustled ahead of him. Dark dropped to the ground and narrowed his eyes. The bush branches here were sparsely covered with gray and green foliage, yet among them, he saw something like a rooster’s tail flash.

Just a bird, something like a pheasant. He doubted that the game creators had decided to fashion a vicious monster from a noisy, harmless creature like this. But Dark wasn’t about to risk anything. He waited a few minutes before moving. Clouds were beginning to obscure the sky, so he had to hurry. He might lose the sun’s position as a guide and risk getting lost in the undergrowth. The bushes were too fragile to climb, and trees were very rare. The cliff was growing harder to see in the distance behind him, and nothing else in the area was tall enough.

Suddenly the bushes parted, and Dark encountered a tiny winding stream. He peered at his reflection, seeing himself for the first time. Except he looked close to how he always did. True, his face was a bit haggard, his eyes had an unhealthy insomniac’s shine, and his hairstyle would be considered unacceptably messy even by surfers, but that made sense with his recent experience. So they had given him an appearance that matched his real-world face. Though his skin was darker, as if he had spent the past two weeks sunbathing.

The water was very cold. If the game’s simulation was correct, he guessed its source was nearby. Indeed, he found a spring a hundred paces upstream. Drinking from that was much better than consuming the contents of a muddy river.

Wow. That really helped.

Dark had heard of experiments with worlds where the intellectual resources of the users themselves were used to replicate the environment, but he had no idea the result would be so realistic. So, the machine built the patterns, the outlines, the forms, and people painted it with colors and details and flaws based on things they had seen before. He could tell he was in a game, but only due to the resurrections, system messages, and so on. What a difference this was from the Mortal Arena, a small stadium meant to hold lonely fighters or small groups.

For this world to possess this level of detail, he guessed hundreds of players were online.

Perhaps even millions.

* * *

Dark reached the river by heading downstream. Despite the winding, the route was easier than always straining to figure out the sun’s position behind the cloud cover.

Crouching between a pair of more bushes, he studied the open area before him.

It was a mid-sized river, quite ordinary for a flat area like this. Even when it ran wide, it was no more than a hundred yards across, and its current was slow. Many of the shallow areas ran green with algae or hid completely under duckweed. The other side was lined with a tall clay bank and a wall of majestic pine trees. Some had fallen into the water, creating dams and quiet creeks running off into the forest. Among the thickets of reeds and cattails, several species of ducks swam, frogs croaked, a heron on one leg considered the scene, swallows whipped by—somehow catching a drink as they did—and tiny fish sped in circles.

It was a calm, pleasant scene. Except for one item: just downstream, the backbone of some gigantic creature protruded from the middle of the river. A dead crocodile, perhaps? If so, it was big enough to outweigh two loaded train cars.

And if it was dead, perhaps whatever had killed it was still around.

Dark had to continue with extreme caution.

Actually, he was stuck here.

Whether he would have to stay here for a long time or not, he didn’t know. But he had not encountered a player this whole time. Either this location was of no interest to them, which made sense, or...

Dark remembered rumors about X, mingled with advertisements he had seen in the mirror. For some reason, the memories came to him just now. Memories of hearing that this game world smashed all previous size records. That players had not yet explored even ten percent of its total area at launch. Still no one knew what lay beyond its inhabited lands. Not even the developers knew everything that was out here. This place offered potentially unlimited lands to explore. The AI could even expand its boundaries at any moment without asking anyone for permission. What if Dark was currently positioned in an area no player would set foot in for years?

There were plusses to that. It would be much harder for Kim’s people to find him.

On the other hand...

He had to do something to try to get out of the virtual world. Dark wasn’t exactly clean in the eyes of the law, so he wanted to avoid the police. But where could he go after being not just kidnapped but tortured most of the way to insanity and death?

He had to contact tech support, or other players, so he could communicate with the outside world.

Chapter 13

Self-Discovery

Total stat levels: 5

Character level: 0

Mastery level: 0

Rummaging through the chat system yielded nothing of promise. However, the system logs held some gems. All of the technical logs. Perhaps they could not be erased, or perhaps the kidnappers hadn’t bothered.

Dark learned that he had refused to come up with a name at the beginning of this “game.” He had also set his own respawn point. He didn’t remember any of this, of course, but that wasn’t surprising when the kidnappers had him under control on the outside and had access to possibilities that were unavailable to ordinary players.

Besides messages directly related to Dark, he saw occasional alerts to all X players, or at least to all players at his location. Usually these referred to killing various super bosses, setting records, and other achievements. The nicknames of the participants in these events were listed in the messages.

He selected one of the simplest nicks and punched it into his chat window. “Hi. Could you chat with me for a minute? It’s something very important.” He tried to press Send, but the button refused him.

You have zero communication crystals active. You cannot initiate communications with players in other locations.

Ugh.

He tried some of the others. Same result. Either Dark really was out in the unexplored wilderness, or he was in a place where these great heroes never trod.

So he started punching names in at random, selecting names he believed would be taken. Sometimes he saw “Player does not exist,” and other times he cursed the same message about his lack of crystals.

Dark imagined his chances of opening a chat successfully from here were approximately zero.

He had to reach an area that was more popular with players.

How could he find a place like that?

He did notice a section in his Settings called Your Maps. A black sheet of paper within filled his whole field of view when it was selected. Dark played around with it, making it transparent and zooming in and out. One point glimmered, so he focused in on it, and found that it showed his location: the river bed, the rounded island upstream, and even a depiction of a monster’s skeleton. A grayish ribbon with blurred edges melted through the black, running from the left bank of the river to the cliff, up to the circle of stones, and a little bit beyond it.

So the map showed the areas where Dark had been. The closer he had been to a place, the more clearly it was shown—right down to the bushes. But what he had seen from the drop of the cliff was only partially displayed, in blots, and most of the areas did not have enough shown to get a feel for where anything was there.

He spent a few more minutes zooming out and panning around to find another place the map should remember. It resembled a medieval castle, and within one room in one of its towers, he saw the cross-shaped table.

Where the Spider had tortured him.

It appeared that Dark had traveled a good deal of the world to get there. His route to that castle was about fifty times longer than the route he had taken in this bush kingdom. Strangely enough, he noticed another place just as brightly illuminated. The map recorded that he had spent time there even though he had no recollection of it whatsoever.

He ground his teeth. It was infuriating to realize how long he had been a puppet under their control. These beasts would answer for this. For everything.

Now that he had figured out the map, Dark managed to calculate the distance between him and the Spider’s lair. 3,938 kilometers. How many miles that was, he didn’t have the strength to calculate. But it was definitely enough. Probably more than enough.

Although he wouldn’t mind adding as many miles on as possible. That lone skeleton had nearly killed him in the real world with all of those game world deaths.

But better to encounter a hundred such skeletons than one Spider.

Yet it made more sense to move towards the monster’s den. After all, he doubted that all of these freaks existed as hermits. The occasional visits of the mage, and the fact that the torturer had somewhere to go in the interims, made him guess that there was civilization outside of those walls.

So let’s say I make it there, naked and barefoot. Who would ever listen to a ragged little level zero like me? How would he even begin? His memory of his own name had been blocked out, after all. If he arrived there weak and confused, he risked falling into Kim’s hands once again. Would anything stop Kim from having his people cripple Dark’s synth again once his game character was back under Kim’s control?

Perhaps he could even do that now, without even needing to know where Dark had gone.

That was a depressing thought, and Dark hurried to drive it from his mind. If it was true, there was nothing he could do about it, so there was no point to thinking about it. His enemies wouldn’t even look for him, just take control of him at some random moment in the near future.

They hadn’t done that yet, though, so hopefully they couldn’t.

Perhaps he was safe in this secluded area. But he couldn’t hide forever. And moments after reaching his freedom, he had been killed more than one hundred times by the sword of the first enemy he had happened to encounter.

Not that “enemy” was even the right word. It had just been a rattling chunk of code. No matter what they said about AIs, not even the most advanced was equal to humans. And managing one single creature among many millions would never receive the full mental support of the game’s AI. So Dark had basically died a hundred times to a pocket calculator. And he had only won thanks to that opponent’s sheer skeletal stupidity. The monster had charged after him without the slightest consideration for the laws of physics. After him it had rushed over the stones, and after him it had flown off the cliff.

As far as their final score went, the skeleton had triumphed over him by two orders of magnitude.

Dark had to keep digging for more information. There had to be something that would point him in the direction of ordinary people and allow him to get there without a billion deaths along the way. After all, the experience he had just undergone was not much different from what Spider had done to him. Had Dark failed to escape that Sisyphean respawn loop, he would have gone mad even without the help of a torturer intending that result. Even though the pain in this location was less severe and ended nearly instantly in each case, eventually he would have been exhausted out of his own mind.

He had to figure out a way to get onto the Internet. His synth was connected to the World Wide Web, after all. He just had to find some loophole that let him access it.

As so often happens, this loophole was right in front of him. “Official Game Forum.” Of course, Dark’s limited experience with such forums had taught him that they were best avoided.

They were a waste of time for decent players. Boring drones whose TLDRs needed TLDRs of their own, harebrained conspiracy theories, and ban-happy moderators. Closed communities were the best—places where information was private, limited to just a few. But sometimes there were pearls to be found in the public sphere, as well.

Wait. Is that a way out?

As he ran his eyes over the translucent page before his eyes, Dark jabbed at the first banner that appeared, an advertisement for a modded synth clinic. He hoped it would take him to the wider web.

Access denied. This is locked in your account settings. To access the Internet, change your account settings.

What the...

Other links brought up the same message. Trying to mess with the address bar and send links to himself in chat didn’t work, either.

After a minute of contemplating some nearby lazy rivulets, Dark sighed silently and went to a place no decent player had any business being.

The game forum.

He found an interesting topic right away: “Beginners Guide.” Forum guides were inconvenient regurgitations of text. There were a dozen links attached to other alternative sources, but of course none of them successfully took him to the web.

So he immersed himself in the study guide.

Five minutes later, he begrudgingly admitted that he had given the official forums a bad rap. A priceless store of information had already entered his brain. This store, in combination with the system message logs he had perused, answered most of the questions that had accumulated in his head.

First, he learned that what had screwed him was actually his elite account. Misuse of an elite account would do that to you. Royally. Under the influence of drugs, Dark had handed over the key to his synth to his kidnappers, allowing the kidnappers to alter his settings in the real world. They locked him out of everything they could. The official game forum was the only place he could go. Nor could he use the in-game mail system. Nor any other form of communication.

These restrictions were generally easy to remove. All he had to do was check the appropriate boxes. But, elite accounts had the convenience and immersion factor of being manageable while offline, and only while offline, unless the account’s settings were modified to allow online access.

Dark’s settings had not been so modified.

How could he go offline, then? Easy: by pressing the Exit button.

Of course, he didn’t have one of those.

Dark’s synth code had been replaced. And if Dark magically managed to somehow regain full control and disconnect completely, he would probably end up in just the state Kim was hoping for.

He had spent too much time in the game. His brain was so deeply connected to the game now that a cleanse would be nothing of the sort, but a permanent severing of neural connections.

Unless he found a workaround, he’d have to find some players and somehow get them to help him solve his problem.

This was where the second royal screwing of Dark came into play. In the forum section Geography, he found a lot more bright map spots, filled with information. But the list of known locations did not include the Central Wastes of Ethria. Nor any part of Ethria. Nor did his race exist.

He checked the discussion threads. 90% were apparently written by mentally challenged schoolchildren just starting to learn their letters. Most of the remaining 10% were nonsensical, but a few were decent. Dark learned that, according to lore, the world of X once suffered a string of magical and physical catastrophes, plus global wars between races, clashes with demons from beneath, and more. Its history was an unceasing apocalypse. A significant percentage of the world’s territory was unsuitable for life, or at least unsuitable for any extended period of time. The inhabited areas were surrounded with geography that was impassable, or nearly so, and most people had no idea what lay beyond these areas. There was a complex system of teleporters, but it didn’t cover everywhere, and teleporting to a location no one had ever been to before was just asking for problems.

Dark was in a location just like that. A race location for a race that had been removed from the game. This place had died before the alpha was even out. All that was left of the Ethrians, in fact, was the territory where players who selected them had been meant to start out. But Dark was still alive, so this location couldn’t be that bad. Attempting to leave this location, however, would take him out to the wilderness between locations, a place where even experienced players decked out with the best gear got fried like packs of matches tossed into an open furnace.

He had to develop himself as a player as he continued to search for loopholes.

One option, of course, was to torture himself. Perhaps his extensive suffering would bring Emergency Bot 25 back. Perhaps. But the next teleport could hurl Dark into some location that made this wasteland seem heavenly.

So self-torture was—surprise—a bad idea. Dark resigned himself not to hurry. Instead, he would work on his character, learn all of the ins and outs of this world, and try to devise a way to free his body from this trap.

After reading the Character Development part of the guide, he opened his own Stats and Skills screen.

He lost his restraint. “Goddammit!”

Chapter 14

Crippled

Total stat levels: 5

Character level: 0

Mastery level: 0

At first glance, X’s character development system seemed cumbersome. Thirty-six basic skills involving combat, defense, and general existence were broken unevenly into six groups. Each group made up one stat: Strength, Dexterity, Adaptability, Endurance, Intellect, and Magic. The level of each “stat” was equal to the lowest-level skill in its group. The character’s level, in turn, was the sum of all stat levels divided by six, but that only applied to novice players. And level 1 could only be obtained by having no stats at 0. Only by bumping up every single group, which meant bumping up every single skill, could he reach level 1.

Higher-level players actually had a simpler system.

Once a player reached level 10, he could choose a class, and each class was linked to two stats. Advancing the other stats would no longer be required in order to level up. Conversely, their growth was limited from that point forward. From level 10 on, the player’s level was the sum of the two class stats, divided by two.

The first example he considered was Strength. Its base skills included Athletics, Heavy Weapons, Heavy Armor, Shieldbearing, Hammers, and Physical Attack. Athletics grew whenever you expended considerable physical effort. Heavy Weapons, whenever you used heavy weapons to hit, and especially defeat, opponents. Heavy Armor was leveled up the more you wore said armor. Shieldbearing, when you used a shield in battle, whether for defense or attack. Interesting, Hammers was a skill that could be developed not only by fighting with hammers but also by wielding them for smithing and other crafts. 10 progress points to a skill leveled that skill up to level 1. Level 2 then required an additional 20 progress points, level 3 an additional 30 (60 total), and so on. So if five skills reached level 4 by acquiring 100 progress points, but the sixth skill in the group remained at level 0 for some reason, the player’s total Strength stat would still be 0.

Some skills were easy to level up, others were harder, and a few were damn near impossible. How could anyone level up with those near-impossible skills in mind? That was simple enough: each time a player leveled up, he or she received twelve distributable skill levels. Not just progress points; full skill levels. This applied until level 10. After that, the free levels could only be applied to skills in the player’s two class groups. They could also be earned for various achievements—Dark had received some by killing the skeleton. Players could receive distributable progress points, as well, and there were a few other ways to grow these infeasible skills. Putting distributable assets into the weakest skills and stats was the most common course of action.

The very first distribution of these bonus skill levels occurred at the very start of a player’s game. Each newbie received one hundred of them. By distributing most of them evenly, you could reach level 2 and still have 24 to spare. That combined with the level-up bonuses could propel you to level 3, giving you the next dozen free levels. And by using those on the problematic skills and working a little on the easy ones, you could reach level 4 in barely any time at all.

But that wasn’t all. Five distributable stat levels were also awarded you at the start. Distributing them to five different stats and leveling up the sixth, whichever was easiest, by yourself would propel you to level 5.

Judging by the forum comments, it was an easy affair to reach level 5 within an hour or two. Level 6 could follow a day or two later. The game was filled with innumerable quests for beginners that could significantly reduce this time, and the time for subsequent levels. Thanks to this, you never met a player in X that was level 2 or lower. Keeping your character at low levels made no sense. The more you leveled up, the more of the game became available to you.

Killing monsters and performing tasks from the plethora available to players gave you distributable progress points, as well. These could be assigned to any skill, of the player’s choice. Here once again Dark was screwed: These points were only given to players with a starting skill.

And to get that, you had to get to level 1. If he ever reached that, it would not be soon.

He dropped his head further.

Dark’s character had been sabotaged, his prospects as a newcomer ruined by Kim’s minions. Regular players started at level 3 and pumped to level 10 quickly, then chose a class, which greatly helped their progress afterward. After all, there was no need to focus on all six stats after that.

The bastards had invested all 100 skill points into Stealth. A useful skill for avoiding being seen. And completely useless while strapped to the Spider’s torture table.

Of course, Kim’s people hadn’t stopped there. They had invested the 5 distributable stat points in Endurance. Another perfect choice for their ends.

Endurance determined, among other things, his hit points. And the more of those he had, the longer it took to kill him. The longer he could be tortured. Dark’s luck bringing the skeleton over the edge with him had earned him some progress points and some bonus skill levels.

This is what his profile looked like:

Name: Dark. Short and dark-skinned, striking like a dagger from the shadows.

Race: Ethrian One of the ancient races forgotten by the gods, with undecided values, trapped between light and darkness.

Race Perk: +50% sensation. An Ethrian suffers like none other.

Special Power: Avalanche of Feeling. Active skill. Activating this skill increases sensation by 100%. Magic energy cost: 50. Duration: 30 seconds. Cooldown: 1 hour.

Alignment: Neutral.

Strength: 0

Determines the damage you inflict with physical attacks, the weight you can carry, the speed you can perform some demanding craftsmanship, and the regeneration of your health points.

Base Physical Strength Skills:

Athletics: hard physical work, in or out of combat—level 0 (+0 progress points)

Heavy Weapons: use heavy weaponry—level 0 (+0 progress points)

Heavy Armor: wear heavy armor—level 0 (+0 progress points)

Shieldbearing: attack and defend with a shield in battle—level 0 (+0 progress points)

Hammers: use hammers or pickaxes as weapons or tools—level 0 (+0 progress points)

Physical Attack: defeat enemies with weapons that deal physical damage. The closer an enemy is to you, the faster this skill grows—level 0 (+0 progress points)

Dexterity: 0

Determines your chances of evading attacks of all types, the speed of your physical attacks and your evasion, the damage boost from precision attacks (both standard and critical), and the regeneration of Stamina.

Base Agility Skills:

Acrobatics: trick jumps, stunts, impressive falls, etc.—level 3 (+32 progress points)

Ranged Weapons: kills with bows, crossbows, darts, and other projectiles. The further the enemy, the faster this skill grows—level 0 (+0 progress points)

Light Weapons: defeat enemies with light weaponry—level 0 (+0 progress points)

Light Armor: wear light armor—level 0 (+0 progress points)

Physical Evasion: dodge enemy attacks—level 5 (+45 progress points)

Speed: move fast, learn to run—level 6 (+24 progress points)

Reaction: react quickly, without hesitation—level 4 (+46 progress points)

Accuracy: land physical attacks, without missing—level 0 (+0 progress points)

Critical Hit: hit weak spots to deal increased damage. Flank the enemy and strike from behind—level 0 (+0 progress points)

Adaptability: 0

Determines your chances at survival, both in the wilderness and among other intelligent beings. Also determines your total Stamina.

Base Adaptability Skills:

Perception: pay attention and notice everything—level 0 (+0 progress points)

Stealth: move and watch without being noticed—level 100 (+0 progress points)

Luck: emerge victorious from situations where luck played a role. Affects everything—level 12 (+37 progress points)

Simplicity: be able to live on bread and water, sleeping on the cold earth and making do with what you have—level 0 (+0 progress points)

Poisoncraft: avoid eating poisoned food and defeat others with poisoned arrows—level 0 (+0 progress points)

Hand-to-Hand: defeat enemies with your bare hands—level 0 (+0 progress points)

Charisma: make other beings acknowledge you, respect you, love you, obey you—level 0 (+0 progress points)

Endurance: 5

Determines your total health points, the amount of physical damage you received, and your resistance to debuffs, control effects, and elemental magic.

Base Endurance Skills:

Tolerance: be patient and endure burdens, difficulties, and deprivation, including harmful magic (debuffs)—level 7 (+24 bonus points)

Resistance to Heat and Cold: endure heat and cold and succeed despite weather or ice, even if these are due to magic and not nature—level 0 (+0 progress points)

Carrying Capacity: carry lots of items, lift weights, and you’ll be able to move faster and more easily while under load—level 0 (+0 progress points)

Tirelessness: exhaust your enemies in combat while still barely breaking a sweat yourself—level 0 (+0 progress points)

Unarmored Combat: your skin is a kind of armor!—level 0 (+0 progress points)

Physical Defense: block physical attacks, actively or with your armor, with minimal loss of health—level 0 (+0 progress points)

Intellect: 0

Determines your magical energy (mana), your chances of successfully hitting with ranged magic (including critical hits), your spell casting speed, and your chances of evading magic attacks and the amount of damage you take from them.

Base Intellect Skills:

Magic Accuracy: hit targets precisely with magic, preferably from a distance. The farther you hit targets from, the faster your skills will work and the higher your chances of dealing maximum damage—level 0 (+0 progress points)

Protection from Magic: reflect magical damage or take a minimal hit to your health—level 0 (+0 progress points)

Evade Magic: dodge magical attacks—level 0 (+0 progress points)

Magic Crit: hit weak spots to deal increased magic damage—level 0 (+0 progress points)

Magic: 0

Determines the speed at which your mana recharges and the power of your magic attacks.

Base Magic Skills:

Magical Robes: enchanted apparel not only accelerates spellcasting, it can also serve as armor to reduce physical damage taken from enemies—level 0 (+0 progress points)

Control Resist: prevent yourself from being slowed, put to sleep, paralyzed, or otherwise controlled. In some cases, using control effects yourself can boost this skill—level 0 (+0 progress points)

Debuff Resist: resist attempts to weaken you with magic. In some cases, using weakening effects yourself can boost this skill—level 0 (+0 progress points)

Staves and Rods: when a mage has no other alternative, he becomes a warrior—level 0 (+0 progress points)

Special Skills

Rock Climbing: conquer cliffs and mountains of all sorts, climb into the windows of tall buildings, and hold yourself over a precipice for extended periods of time: 1.

Player Status

Health: 50 initial health + (Endurance x 25) = 175 total. Active bonuses from items and potions: none.

Regeneration: 1 + (Strength x 2) = 1 per minute. Active bonuses from items and potions: none.

Mana: 50 initial mana + (Intellect x 25) = 50 total. Active bonuses from items and potions: none.

Regeneration: 1 + (Magic x 3) = 1 per minute. Active bonuses from items and potions: none.

Stamina 50 initial stamina + (Adaptability x 25) = 50 total. Active bonuses from items and potions: none.

Regeneration: 1 + (Dexterity x 3) = 1 per minute. Active bonuses from items and potions: none.

He could delve more into the settings and his stats, but he had seen enough to know what problem faced him.

Dark had no start-up capital left. Kim’s henchmen had burned through his runway. Leveling up would not be an easy task.

Would it even be possible? The system was rigged to be against him. Probably set up so that players would pay serious money to pump their characters. That was par for the course with these freemium games: The devs had to make their money somehow. Since leveling was so important, and this game world so incredible, Dark had no doubt that lots of players would pony up some cash.

Dark squinted down at the only thing that belonged to him in this world. An arrow appeared, running from it to an explanatory box.

Novice’s Loincloth. Class: none. This single piece of coarse cloth offers no protection from enemies or bad weather, but at least it allows a bit of modesty. Estimated value: any merchant you ask to buy this worthless item will laugh in your face.

Dark was a naked beggar, with nothing to offer and no way to pay to level up his character.

Not that there was anyone around to buy from, anyway.

Chapter 15

Kingdom of Frogs

Total stat levels: 5

Character level: 0

Mastery level: 0

Dark had been forced to admit the official game forum was useful, yes—but it was of limited use in his case. His situation was far too unusual.

Ordinary players entering the world of X for the first time would assign their start bonuses to stats and skills, pump through the first few levels, and then hurry to beginner locations tailored to the needs of newbies like them. These places had all sorts of AI-directed NPCs. Some of them had simple quests to give out, and completing them would earn you experience and some basic equipment which would take you all the way up to level 10. Those who lacked patience for this—or didn’t see the point in wasting time for a scrappy cloak and dull dagger—could buy the main currency of the world of X with real money.

Both kinds of players would be placed in vast locations with very few strong NPC opponents. They could pump their stats and levels without fear of running into a random level 22 skeleton. In other words, they experienced optimal conditions for fast, easy character growth.

Dark had missed the early opportunity to level up. Nor did he have access to the in-game auction. Not to mention any funds to spend in it.

His only option for now sat in front of him. He bent down and picked up a dry branch, peering at it.

Worthless Stick. Class: none. Flimsy and light, this stick has fallen from a tree or bush. You could try stunning an opponent with it, but you’re probably better off with your bare hands. Estimated value: if you’re in the middle of an icy desert and there you find a person about to die of cold huddled around a dying fire, that person might just give you one coin for it. Otherwise, you risk being thrown out of the market.

The description of this stick sounded even less favorable than that of his loincloth. He saw no trees for a couple of hundred yards around, and the bushes here were flimsy.

He set his gaze on his fist instead.

Fist of an Untrained Fighter. Base damage: 1 x (1 + Strength). Estimated value: you cannot sell a part of your own body.

Dark’s Strength was at 0, like most of his stats. His fists could deal exactly 1 damage point, which was the bare minimum. He could only tackle laughable opponents with a number like that. The game did not consider butterflies and dragonflies to be opponents, but there were at least some creatures he could kill on the bank here.

Green Frog. Weak mob. Level 0. Base XP: 1. Health: 1. Mana: 0. Stamina: 1. Aggression: none. Magic skills: none. Poison: unknown. Chance of valuable loot: extremely low. General information: a tiny, cowardly creature. Parts of its body may be used for food and crafting.

The croaking amphibians lined the sandy strip running along the water, as well as the lily pads in the water itself. He could also see a few poking out of the duckweed. At least twenty were located in his field of view. There were doubtless hundreds more. One alone would give him no appreciable experience, of course. But if he killed one or two hundred, that might make a difference. It should bump up the right skills, too.

The frogs turned out to be too cowardly. He didn’t remember them running away so quickly in real life. He could sneak up on them and catch them with his bare hands. But here they flew into the water before Dark reached any reasonable proximity.

After Dark had run around for a couple of minutes, all of his prey was in the water, sticking their noses out and watching him with disapproval.

He pulled an unremarkable stone out of the sand and peered at it.

A common rock. Class: none. A piece of gray sandstone, lightly smoothed by a river. Can be used as a melee or ranged weapon. Base damage: 1 x (1 + Strength). Minimum level: none. Estimated value: a common stone like this won’t sell to anyone, but you could sell a whole cart of them to street pavers.

He hurled it at one of the curious noses sticking out of the duckweed and missed by a foot. The frog didn’t even move away in response. Dark mentally promised the amphibian that he would be back, then walked along the shore to collect more of the useless rocks. Once he had about twenty, he tried again.

The third rock connected. The frog’s white belly turned up, and it began to float with the current.

Note: Personal victory! Green Frog killed! Weak mob. Level 0. Location sensation level: 30%. Personal sensation level: 80%. 1 progress point received. The following skills played a significant role in this battle: Accuracy.

Progress points distributed.

Accuracy: +1.

“Weak mob” was generous. In order for Dark to collect as much experience as he had from the skeleton’s dive off the cliff, he would have to perform thousands of throws, enough to kill 1,484 frogs. That kind of genocide would take several days, at least. But that was assuming the frogs were numerous enough here and would not eventually retreat. He would have to search for another area with more frogs, which meant more time wasted.

Plus, he would have to find thousands of suitable stones. The local bank was mostly sand, clay, and dirt. Not many stones.

That skeleton, though... What if he went back to look for it after all? Not that chasing frogs around with a sword was a good idea, but he might be able to tackle something more serious. He had seen some hoofprints on the sand, which meant that some animals came here regularly to drink.

First, though, he needed some dinner. Most of the day had been spent crossing the wasteland and exploring the game interface and forum. Just like everything else, the stomach grumbling in this world was remarkably true to life. Also, his Stamina meter was now showing a red X, meaning his Stamina regeneration was currently at 0. The game was sending strong hints that he had to eat unless he wanted to incur starvation penalties.

He sauntered into the water and picked up a dead frog by its leg, shuddering in disgust. A loot window popped up, informing Dark that he could extract a frog leg, frog skin, and frog eyes from the defeated enemy. For the next carcass, the game offered him two frog legs and frog blood, which required an empty bottle in order to collect. He collected some of the dubious “loot” and spread it out on the sand, studying it. The legs could be used for food or alchemy. Everything else was only suitable for alchemy, and a warning notified him that these ingredients had no known alchemical properties. He had no way to collect the blood.

Dark doubted that cooked frog legs would be much better than raw ones. The sun still hid behind the thick clouds, but he could make out approximately where it was—nearing the horizon. It would be dark in an hour or so, and Dark guessed the skies would hardly clear come nightfall. He should at least sleep on a full stomach.

He squinted at a duck, far away, and gave a try throwing a stone at it. And he hit!

The rock knocked several feathers from the duck’s side. It squealed in aggravation and began flapping its winds furiously, but failed to take off completely, instead charging forward with water spraying to either side in its wake.

The man watched its retreat with a longing lick of his lips. A grumble from his stomach reminded him of the frog legs.

Raw green frog legs. Alchemical ingredient. Known properties: none. Poison level: unknown. You can risk eating these. Positive effects: none. Negative effects: possibility of poisoning.

Dark gave a resigned sigh of inevitability.

* * *

It wasn’t the most satisfying meal he had ever had, but at least his Stamina penalty was gone now. And he wasn’t poisoned, despite that frightful warning. Dark remembered the guide mentioning that the descriptions were often like that—and that real-world knowledge about natural items applied here.

Dark had to spend the night on the dry sand, a short distance away from the water. Managing to cover himself with a few huge burdock leaves, he fell asleep quickly. He suspected that the air would grow colder by morning and that he would wake early.

Actually, he woke much earlier than expected. No sooner had he opened his eyes, then he found a growl in his ears transforming into swift, unbearable pain and then impermeable blackness.

It was a sadly familiar feeling.

Chitin Hunter deals you 422 damage.

You have died.

Note: Last respawn point selected. You have entered the Central Wastes of Ethria. This is the edge of the world, a place watered with the tears of hopes long lost and dreams long dashed, a cemetery of races long forgotten, or which were never known in the first place.

10 seconds to resurrection. 9...

Dark looked around once his vision had recovered. Indeed, this was the erect stone and the rounded pair accompanying it, lit softly by the stars behind.

His respawn point. Impossible to mistake for anything else. Thankfully he did not have to climb down a cliff in the morning.

As he woke, that had been his first thought, before memory of the suggestive stone filled him with relief.

Also, Dark had learned that this place was highly dangerous.

He had been resting on a quiet, peaceful bank populated by harmless frogs, and yet he had been slain in the dark, and so quickly that he had been unable to catch even a glimpse of his killer.

A chitin hunter? Chitin was arthropod shell, right? Had he been attacked by some giant mantis? Or a spider the size of a bus?

He hoped to never find out.

Chapter 16

A Useless Gift

Total stat levels: 5

Character level: 0

Mastery level: 0

The outraged bird spun in circles around his head, filling the air with vulgar squawks. Dark ignored it and peered at the bird’s nest as he popped the four tiny eggs into his mouth.

Positive effect received: +1 Tirelessness, +1 Speed. Duration: 1 hour. This effects do not stack with other effects received from food, but they may complement them.

That was something. The frog legs had offered no such benefits. No wonder this bird’s nest had been situated deep in the densest of bushes.

Once he finished his modest breakfast, Dark circled around the bush and grinned. At last he had found what he was searching for.

The skeleton was remarkably intact after its fall from the height of a skyscraper. It had not exploded into fragments of bone across half a square mile; apparently its armor had held it together, and it had only lost both legs and its left arm. Its right arm still clutched the sword which had rusted that night of terror deep into Dark’s mind. Even though its skull had flown a few yards away, it still wore its helmet, though the monster’s jaw was nowhere to be seen.

Dark placed his palm on the creature’s rusty breastplate.

The loot panel obediently appeared. He tried to simply grab the sword, and it worked. So you can loot via the interface, or by just taking stuff. Maybe that would come in handy.

He touched the rusted armor again to examine the riches offered him by this impressive enemy. A worn-out heavy breastplate perhaps beyond repair, a dull two-handed sword in need of repairs soon, bronze bracers in reasonable condition, and an iron helmet of the same quality. The bones of the skeleton guard could be used for crafting or could be crushed into a bone powder usable in alchemy.

It didn’t seem worth much, but Dark would take whatever he could get. Perhaps he would find something interesting if he looked at each object’s properties.

Ancient two-handed sword. Class: primitive. A heavy blade for use by a strong warrior. Dulled and rusted. Melee weapon. Durability: 23/45. Base damage: 22 x (1 + Strength). Current damage: 11 x (1 + Strength). Required level: 14. Estimated value: many merchants would pay a few coins for a weapon like this. A blacksmith may give you more, since he can reforge the metal and sell it for a profit.

Dark already knew from reading the forums that decent armor and weapons nearly always had a level requirement. That didn’t mean lower-level players couldn’t use the weapon. He calmly picked up the two-handed sword and gave it a swing, nearly dropping it. The system displayed the penalties he suffered for using it.

Your level: 0. Required level: 14. In your hands, this weapon has reduced base damage: 4 x (1 + Strength). You will miss often and defend poorly, and you have a higher risk of permanently damaging the weapon in battle. The weapon will rapidly lose Durability as you wield it. Level up as soon as possible if you wish this sword to serve you well.

Just like everything else. Dark could equip everything he found, but the items ended up hurting him. This cliffside search had been a waste of time.

Perhaps not completely. His level would hit the requirement sooner or later.

But how was he supposed to carry all of this good stuff around until them? His character inventory had only four cells, suitable for small items. He could put stones there, and it was funny to watch them disappear into nowhere. His loincloth had no pockets, of course, and he wasn’t carrying a bag. Experience had taught him that he could drag objects along with his hands, but these manually lugged items would often get lost somehow, in ways he didn’t even remember or notice. There was no way he could drag it all to the river.

That was the only place he knew where he could develop his character, albeit slowly, and where he had a steady source of food and water.

Searching the area briefly, he found a decently flat, large stone on the ground. This he lifted, using his sword as a lever, and stood up on its side. He loosened the damp, worm-filled earth with the blade and put all of the loot from the skeleton inside.

Returning the stone to its place, he did his best to hide all traces of his activities.

You have created a primitive hiding place. 1 progress point received.

Progress points distributed.

Stealth: 1.

This is your first hiding place. Bonus +1 Stealth level.

Doing that pumped a stat? Why not create more, then? It wasn’t worth it since his Stealth was already pumped to high heaven.

But he needed to remember this and keep an eye out for similar kinds of pumping opportunities.

Everything that boosted his character was as good as gold. After all, Dark was still at a loss as to how he could possibly make up for the squandering of his beginner’s bonuses. He greedily hoarded all of the new information he could about leveling.

Chapter 17

Back to the River

Total stat levels: 5

Character level: 0

Mastery level: 0

The frogs had not replenished their population during his absence. It appeared that creatures in X did not respawn at the exorbitantly high rates they often did in other games. His amphibicide had failed to boost a single level for him, anyway. How could he tackle stronger opponents when even a wild duck was too strong for him to take down? With one stone, anyway.

The game’s math simply wouldn’t allow it.

Dark ignored the surviving squish balls and moved downstream, along the edge of the water. He studied each stone he passed. Nearly all of them were as worthless as the first he had picked up, the day before.

There were some exceptions, though.

A common rock. Class: none. Flint, lightly smoothed by a river. Can be used as a melee or ranged weapon. Base damage: 1 x (1 + Strength). Estimated value: it’s unlikely you’ll be able to sell this for anything, but it you have several of them, a novice artisan might be interested.

He couldn’t find anything in the official forum that resembled a game wiki. But Dark knew enough to understand that while some items were worthless, some were very valuable—and the game’s raw materials could be used to make valuable items, even priceless items.

Flint, as it turned out, was a raw material. It could only help make low-level items, but it was better than nothing. If he gathered more of these, he could try to make something worthwhile.

The info box directly told him that only primitive-level items would come of even the best crafting attempts. But that was good news: Dark didn’t expect his level to incur any penalties using those items. In the very worst case, he’d get penalties, but they would be small.

Soon he started losing the stones he was collecting, and this forced him to make another hiding spot. It was this that made him curse how miserly the game was. Couldn’t he just get a progress point? Was that too much to ask? Everything valuable had to be hidden in these caches.

Of course he would remember that, too.

Dark had dug two more buried treasure sites by the time he reached a bend in the river. This must be the horseshoe bend I saw yesterday, from the cliff.

He couldn’t see the beaver dam, though. It had been pretty big, and he guessed a whole pack of beavers had worked on it. That moment, one of them stuck its face out of the water, glaring at Dark. It was the largest animal he had seen so far, besides the Spider. The river rats were rather small. Dark wondered what level it was. His experience told him he had to get about five steps closer in order to see its information panel.

This he did without hesitating. But the beaver’s expression grew more and more hostile as he approached. At last, when he was about ten yards away, the creature charged with an embarrassingly terrifying squeal. It surged out of the water and attacked without delay, scratching Dark’s shin.

“Augh!” the man screamed in pain, slamming the beaver on the head with the flint rock he held, as powerfully as he could.

You deal 1 damage to Beaver.

Beaver deals 9 damage to you.

Dark didn’t have much time for math, but it was clear that nearing the dam had been a tragic mistake. Beavers were ugly beasts up close. They were nature’s rednecks, intolerant of strangers near their homes.

Dark turned to run as fast as he could.

Beaver deals you 14 damage. Hint: do not let your opponent get behind you, or he’ll be able to deal you more damage.

“Leave me alone, you beast! I was just walking by!” Dark screamed as he tried, in vain, to increase speed.

He ran like his body was encased in lead. So worthless was his character that he doubted he could catch up to a pregnant snail.

Beaver deals you 17 damage.

Dark’s dive to the side tricked the mob’s primitive Intellect and gained him a few steps. He pushed away from the shore, trying to push through bushes filled with thorns and turn them as best he could into unpredictable obstacles to hold back his pursuer. It worked. The frequency of the bites and the fresh wounds on his legs decreased sharply, and from time to time, the beaver let out an annoyed squeal. The pain subsided, and the beast started lagging a few yards behind, unable to close the distance.

Then the bushes thinned quickly down to nothing. Dark emerged into a strange location with no hints of vegetation. The earth began to sag underneath him, as if it had been dug up and loosely replaced, and here and there he ran around what looked like miniature volcanoes made of black slag. He immediately remembered that bald patch he had seen from atop the cliff. Why had the beaver’s squealing stopped?

He turned to see the beast’s flat tail raised high, between the bushes, as the beaver scurried in the other direction as quickly as possible. Dark relaxed. It was hardly a victory, but he had avoided being killed by some crazy beaver.

Something fluid shot up from out of one of the cones, and his chest exploded with pain. Dark saw a black whip, like the tail of a scorpion but abnormally thin, appear out of nowhere and stab at his heart. It was segmented and hooked, too, like a scorpion’s.

It stabbed at him, and his vision went as black as its tail.

Chitin Hunter deals you 143 damage.

You have died.

Note: Last respawn point selected. You have entered the Central Wastes of Ethria. This is the edge of the world, a place watered with the tears of hopes long lost and dreams long dashed, a cemetery of races long forgotten, or which were never known in the first place.

10 seconds to resurrection. 9...

* * *

Dark crouched in the shadows by the “phallus” and reflexively reached for his chest with a grimace as he read the combat log. 143 damage, dealt by a creature he had been unable to get a decent look at. A significant amount, but not a fatal blow. His character’s total life was 175. So, he could have survived the blow if not for that damned beaver.

Of course, Dark would have not survived the follow-up strike. Still, he was glad to discover this creature was not as omnipotent as it had seemed. The beaver had wisely retreated, declining to so much as step on the black earth. The mobs did have some self-preservation instinct, Dark’s experience with the skeleton notwithstanding.

It followed that the beaver was much weaker than this chitin creature. As the difference in their levels indicated.

That got Dark thinking. He was devising a way to dispatch the dam builder.

Which meant returning to the river. At this pace, there’d be a decent trail running through the bushes to the coast. Walking did level up his skills a little. Especially if he was carrying something heavy. So he started collecting heavier branches he found along the way. And the farther away he was from the cliff, the fewer branches there were to be found. Dying had a silver lining.

Chapter 18

Master of None

Total stat levels: 5

Character level: 0

Mastery level: 0

You failed to create a random item.

The rock shattered into small pieces, like all of those before it. Dark winced as he surveyed the carnage. Now all of the hiding places he had created along the riverbank were empty, and for nothing. His flint was getting chipped away, too. Either he was just doing something wrong, or crafting a random item would take a lot more walking up and down the river to find suitable stones.

He placed another rock atop the flat boulder and hit it with the best piece of flint he had. This time, the rock didn’t shatter—the flint did. It was tired of the pounding.

You have created an item: Flint Hand Ax. +5 progress points received.

Progress points distributed.

+3 Random Items progress points.

+2 Unspecialized Items progress points.

Note: This is the first useful item you have created. You get a bonus +1 to any craft skill and +1 to any base skill.

That was good news. Crafting could boost not only craft skills but also base skills. Of course, the game sent avalanches of low-level bonuses at newbies, and Dark knew that these would dry up as gameplay continued. But in his situation, every single point was cause for rejoicing. He would be saving them up for a very long time.

A hand ax had two uses. Killing and crafting. Despite his plans for the beaver, Dark actually wanted this for the latter use.

He frowned as he chewed some frog legs. Drying them in the sun had not improved their taste as he had hoped. Perhaps he could cook them. He couldn’t find any flint on the skeleton. But he didn’t expect that would be a problem.

Rejecting the idea of experimenting with fire, he pressed on with his plan. Stabbing a stick he had found along the way into the ground, he began working on it with his hand ax.

It broke within seconds.

As predicted. He doubted the game would ever let a newbie like him achieve something on the first try.

Without paying real money, that was. After all, the devs had to earn their pay somehow.

Luck came through for him on the fourth attempt.

You have created an item: Primitive Wooden Spear. +6 progress points received.

Progress points distributed.

+3 Random Items progress points.

+2 Woodworking progress points.

+1 Bows, Spears, Crossbows, etc. progress point.

It didn’t look much like a spear, to be honest. Quite a few upgrades would be needed just for it to earn the title of “sharpened stick.” But the game thought otherwise.

Dark was happy at the description of the weapon.

A primitive wooden spear. Class: none. A wooden branch of mediocre quality crudely sharpened with a primitive tool. Can be used as a melee or ranged weapon. Durability: 2/2. Base damage: 3 x (1 + Strength). Current damage: 3 x (1 + Strength). Minimum level: none. Estimated value: even a novice who stepped into the world of X a few seconds ago would decline this miserable weapon. There are always better options. However, an armful of these could be sold as firewood for a couple of coins, in areas where firewood is scarce.

The weapon he had created was worthless enough that it had no minimum level requirement. That was exactly what Dark wanted.

This spear dealt 3 damage, whereas stones only dealt 1. That was all that mattered with Dark’s Strength of 0. He had tripled his attack power.

How much had that beaver dealt him? 9, when he was facing it. Dark had been hitting it for a measly 1. Now, he’d hit for 3. Still, he’d fall quickly behind.

How many hit points did the beaver have? Dark couldn’t say. Most of the fight had taken place while he had his back to the enemy. Not that the beast’s hit points had been visible anyway. Even if the beaver’s health was a third of his, the fight could end in a draw, or he might even barely lose. And that was the best case. The pain the fight caused him along the way would affect how well he fought. Fighting well required thinking well, and it wasn’t easy to think well when an overgrown rat was nibbling at your shins.

If the mobs did feel pain, it affected them differently. It didn’t seem to interfere with their attacks. And Dark had to keep in mind that he might suffer shock if the beaver scored a good hit.

He could try making a better spear. Or tying a flint blade onto a stick. A primitive ax like that would have to inflict more damage, right?

No, this kind of obvious logic was not always the way to think.

Come on, Dark, you’re an experienced fighter. You’ve fought all kinds of opponents, in all kinds of conditions, with all kinds of weapons. The organizers may have been angels compared to the Spider, but they were still bastards. One time, he had fought on a rocking ice floe in a virtual Arctic Ocean with twelve opponents in a free-for-all, along with four unpredictable charging polar bears who were as likely to attack each other as the human participants. Another time, he had been equipped with a sawed-off single-barrel shotgun and worn one of those large bandages on his head and a hoop with jingling bells. Every time he shot, they rang loudly.

That last situation doesn’t exactly apply here.

But maybe some others do. Think, Dark, think!

* * *

Prior to the advent of synthetic fabrics, man had been forced to make clothing exclusively out of organic materials. After the most primitive era, when poorly cured skins had been standard garb, the main materials for this production had been animal wool and plant products. Nettle, flax, cotton, hemp, and more.

Most plants contained fibers that could be used, though they all varied in quality and workability.

Dark had been unable to find something suitable. All of the vegetation here was poor, and in many places, there was no vegetation at all. It seemed some black poison had sprayed across the land, causing these bald spots throughout. The algae in the river looked healthy, but they could hardly be made into clothing.

Dark was beginning to conclude that this game was not as realistic as he had first thought, but then something fortunate happened. He found what he was seeking in the bushes, where he least expected to find it. The thin, knotted branches, nearly stripped of leaves, looked lifeless.

But they were too flexible to be dead. Fibers ran underneath the thin bark of the branches. They could be easily peeled apart but were difficult to tear.

Dark harvested one branch after another. Then he crushed and twisted the fibers into bundles and braided them.

It took him hours, until evening was nearly upon him, until at last he was done.

Twilight was fading as the message appeared.

You have created an item: Net with Stone Weights. +9 progress points received.

Progress points distributed.

+5 Random Items progress points.

+3 Unspecialized Items progress points.

+1 Woodworking progress point.

You have leveled up your Random Items skill to 1. This is your first craft skill level. Bonus +1 to any craft skill.

The net was so ugly that Dark was for once glad he was alone. No one could laugh at him. The description of the net was about as insulting as he imagined other players would be. It even said that “most fish will be far too smart to fall for this trap.”

But he had no intention of catching a fish with it.

* * *

Chitin Hunter deals you 124 damage.

Dark woke and screamed as unbearable pain sliced through his shoulder. He instinctively tried to roll. But before he had taken even half a turn, his liver was sliced open and a second scream sent him into the familiar black.

Chitin Hunter deals you 131 damage.

You have died.

Note: Last respawn point selected. You have entered the Central Wastes of Ethria. This is the edge of the world, a place watered with the tears of hopes long lost and dreams long dashed, a cemetery of races long forgotten, or which were never known in the first place.

10 seconds to resurrection. 9...

When he came to, he leaned back against the indecently-shaped rock and recovered his breath, then listened to the sounds around him. Crickets chirped, an owl hooted, and small creatures rustled about in the bushes and grass. There was no evidence of more Chitin Hunters. Last night, Dark had been able to sleep here without being executed.

And during the daylight, he had only ever encountered one, in that black patch during his flight from the beaver. Perhaps they only left their black patches to hunt when the sun was down. And perhaps they mostly hunted along the river, or even exclusively, and never came to the cliff area.

If so, it made sense to set up camp by his respawn point and only travel to the water when he needed to hunt and gather raw materials. That would cost him a lot of time, but it would save him many deaths. As long as he didn’t set up directly at the rock, or a death loop like the one caused by the skeleton might occur again.

For now, he had to sleep. He’d decide in the morning.

This was a game, sure, but a man needed his sleep.

Chapter 19

Pelting

Total stat levels: 5

Character level: 0

Mastery level: 0

Dark had thankfully stashed everything of value except his loincloth in a cache before he had laid down for the night, and he recovered it all. He doubted the Chitin Hunters were after his rudimentary spear and net, but he was better safe than sorry. No sense wasting more time re-making everything.

But he winced when he saw his finished net in the light for the first time. It was too rigid. He tossed it into the river, hoping that giving it a soak would help, and set off to hunt more frogs. During his prowl he saw a small turtle, out of reach.

Retrieving the net and finding it ready for battle, he set off back down the bend to meet that damned beaver.

Both the beaver and his handiwork were still in the river. Dark could swear its tail was making particularly miserable movements today. It was still sour about failing to finish him off the day before.

About twenty paces from his toothed adversary, the man stopped and sat to check the basic protection he had constructed for his legs: bark stripped from young trees, wrapped around his shins, and tied down with more of the material he had used to make his net. The game did not consider this bona fide armor, but it had hinted it would give him at least a little protection.

Dark stuck both of his spears into the sand and hurled a rock. He wanted to annoy the beaver and provoke it to attack him here on the shore, where the ground was free of debris from the dam area. But what happened was better: He hit the beast right in between the eyes.

You deal a critical hit to Beaver! 2 damage dealt. Beaver is stunned.

A great start to the battle. Rather than charging the man with a riot of aggravating squeals, the beast shook its head, one eye staring at the sky and the other at the ground. But when Dark’s second stone hit the dam right by its feet, the animal came to its senses.

Then it rushed, just as it had the day before: squealing and kicking up spray. Dark picked up one spear with his right hand as he raised his left and slammed the net down, forcing the stones woven into it around its edges down into the sand. So far, his throw had only worked in practice, on imaginary opponents. How well it would function in a real fight remained to be seen.

The result was ugly and failed to properly ensnare the beast as it had when wielded by the gladiators of old. It was, after all, a cross between a net and a basket. But it did cover the beaver, tail and all. Dark pulled the loop he had fashioned, tightening the net around the bottom and tripping up the beast by its paws. The creature tripped and rolled onto its side, exposing its soft belly.

That’s where he struck with spear.

You deal 4 damage to Beaver.

Not an impressive number, but better than 3. The game clearly considered the beaver’s belly as a weak spot. Dark struck again, and again. Now the beaver began to squirm, attempting to flip over, but Dark pulled again with his left hand, exposing its belly again. Not that it was easy: the creature had the strength of an oversized dog. Another hit to the game’s realism. A creature of that size would never be so strong in the real world.

After taking many hits, the AI that controlled the mob finally chose a new tactic. It ceased its struggle and began chewing on the net, shredding it with its powerful teeth.

Uh-oh. If the net gave way before he could finish the beaver off, Dark might not be able to kill it. In desperation, he took aim at the beaver’s eyes. But the beast was moving its head so quickly that he missed, and missed again.

Things were no longer going according to plan.

Your spear has broken.

Dammit! He should have kept going for the belly—his spear had shattered on the animal’s thick skull.

Dark yanked his second spear out of the sand. He went for the beaver’s back and side, trying not to hit it directly in the spine. After all, this spear was his last weapon. Not counting the net, but he couldn’t deal any damage with that.

The beaver at last gnawed a hole large enough to push its head through. Soon it would be free. Dark abandoned his attempts to keep the beast under control with the net. At this point, that would only cost him strength reserves that he didn’t have. His Stamina was dangerously low, and his legs were beginning to shake. Every last bit of his energy had to go to dealing damage now.

He dealt ten or so more stabs by the time the beaver was finally free. The animal was in tatters, covered with blood, and only its front teeth were still clean of purple and red. They set immediately to seizing Dark’s shin.

The man screamed in pain but still stabbed at the beast’s neck.

Beaver deals you 5 damage.

You deal Beaver 5 damage.

That was a surprise. They were fighting on equal terms now, or nearly so. Hah! Furry fool. This is why real animals lurk and hide, not rush at people!

The beaver made no move to retreat: This was a game, after all. Now the protection on Dark’s shins was gone. Despite the hellish pain, the player managed to jump over the beaver. As his enemy turned, Dark covered it with the net again.

It was shredded, yes, but it would still hold the beaver for a short time. Enough time for six stabs, as it turned out. The gnawing ended with more snapping sounds, widening the hole, and the animal went for Dark again. Its movements were stilted now, exhausted, and its bite barely hurt, dealing only 3 damage.

Victory was close. Even though Dark’s Stamina was nearly at 0, this realization gave him such a second wind that he smashed a 7-damage critical hit on the animal, then another normal hit.

Your spear has broken.

Goddammit!

Snarling like an enraged predator, Dark knelt down and struck with his fist at the bloodied ball of tangled wool that was latched onto his leg. He punched again, and again.

At least the beaver fell from his leg onto its back. Its paws relaxed, stretching out to all sides.

Note: Personal victory! Beaver killed! Weak mob. Level 3. Location sensation level: 10%. Personal sensation level: 60%. 19 progress point received. The following skills played a significant role in this battle: Athletics, Heavy Weapons, Physical Attack, Physical Critical Hit, Tolerance, Tirelessness, Unarmored Combat, Hand-to-Hand.

Progress points distributed.

+4 Athletics progress points.

+3 Heavy Weapons progress points.

+4 Physical Attack progress points.

+1 Physical Critical Hit progress points.

+1 Tolerance progress points.

+1 Tirelessness progress points.

+1 Unarmored Combat progress points.

+1 Hand-to-Hand progress points.

The numbers were paltry.

“You’re kidding me!” he screamed.

He had spent most of the day before working with flint, with spears, with a net. He had endured massive amounts of pain at the teeth of this miserable level 3 beaver. And he had received as many progress points as about 19 frogs. Yes, the experience had gone to some new skills. But it was a drop in the bucket. In addition, everything he had worked so hard for had been broken in the fight. Perhaps he could fix it, but that would take still more time.

How many beavers would he have to scream and cry his way through killing just to reach level 1? Dark clutched his pounding head.

Maybe he should just figure out a way back to the Spider. At least the torment he had experienced there hadn’t required so much work to experience.

How did other players deal with all of this? Well, they equipped themselves with the easy-to-obtain beginner’s equipment and set off to complete hundreds of easy quests generously handed out by NPCs at beginner locations.

By the time they reached level 7 or higher, they had assembled sets of weapons and equipment with built-in bonuses rewarded to them by the quest givers. If they won a helmet, it would mean not just protection for their head but some kind of bonus as well. For example, it might increase your Dexterity by 2 whenever you had it equipped. A whole set of items like that meant a significant stat boost. And that was enough to deal ridiculous amounts of damage to opponents at your level, which mean more experience and more equipment. Parties of specialized players could take down ever high-level mobs. One player would tank and aggro the mob, another would drain the mob’s health from a moderate distance, and a third would heal both of the first two players. That was usually the best way to deal with the worst of the bosses. And the bosses would drop buckets of experience, achievements that granted the players bonuses, and good equipment.

Or equipment that was better than sharpened sticks, at least.

Dark saw one plus, though. His heightened sensation meant he earned more experience than ordinary players. But calling that a “plus” was a dubious move. After all, other novices didn’t have to scream in pain whenever they fought something stronger than a frog. In fact, they could clear a whole colony of beavers in passing without breaking a sweat and barely even breaking their stride.

Whatever path lay ahead of Dark, it would be one of intense suffering.

Chapter 20

A New Strategy

Total stat levels: 5

Character level: 0

Mastery level: 0

The beaver gave Dark some low-quality hide, entrails, teeth, and meat. Had he been able to stop gnashing his teeth from the pain of his gnawed shins, he might have laughed at the way the carcass fell apart into a scattering of tiny bone fragments circling the beast’s intact spine. The only cause was the looting actions he had taken in the menu. But he didn’t even smile.

The fact that he had considered the Spider as an option betrayed his mood.

He saw more beaver dams up ahead, but unless he figured out some radical new strategy, there was no point in attacking them.

And his current strategy had taken long enough to prepare for. Could he devise some kind of trap? His experience with the net had established that such things took a long time to make, even when they proved insufficient to ensnare the beavers completely. Traps would probably be as difficult, if not more so. How about a ranged weapon? He might be able to make a bow. He could make bowstring out of the bush branch guts or even strips of beaver hide.

But it would take forever to make enough arrows. And he would end up with a low-quality weapon that would only be able to knock out part of the animal’s health. The rest would have to be settled in hand-to-hand combat, and it was there that the beavers had a distinct advantage.

He wearily chipped away at the second spear as he thought. The first had refused to be repaired. It had just shattered, and this one seemed to yearn for the same end. In the end, though, the game recognized it as the same fragile weapon as before, with full durability.

Dark rose and staggered towards the stream, pleading that its cool waters would reduce the pain he felt. His health bar was regenerating too slowly, and his legs were no longer in agony but still suffered a dull ache punctuated with stabs when he moved.

The water was nearly at his waist when he reached a submerged sandbar over which the strong current prevented the algae from taking root. He stood still, leaning on his spear. “Bliss” was hardly the word for what he felt, but the pain was subsiding.

That battle had exhausted him, physically and mentally. He couldn’t think straight. From grandiose, infeasible traps for the Chitin Hunters, to dreams of finding oil and using it to light up the dams of those overgrown rats, stupid ideas proliferated in his mind.

He would have to spend years here slaughtering frogs and occasionally picking off beavers just to gain a couple of levels.

What a miserable life.

Perhaps he could hunt some of those pheasants in the bushes. They seemed to show no aggression and little defensive ability. One of them had rushed off without so much as a look back when Dark had tossed a stone at it. But it would be difficult to catch up to them, and it would take a good number of hits to reduce their life to zero. They fled at too great a speed for him to take them out.

Plus, they could fly if they wanted to.

But many skills could be boosted without fighting, or even when suffering a defeat. Spending the night sleeping on the bare earth boosted his Simplicity, for example.

A little. Yet the game was built on conflict. By the time Dark reached level 10 via peaceful paths, his beard would grow long and gray. And even level 10 was not enough to risk traveling to regions inhabited by other players.

He might as well just sit square on his ass and wait. Sooner or later some lover of adventure would push through magical lands of dinosaur jungles and demon volcanoes and discover this location. And stumble on a near-naked man sunbathing on the beach amidst heaps of frog skeletons.

Dark grinned.

No way. I’m going to keep trying even if it kills me. He would explore more of the region and try his strength against more local animals. Eventually, his tactics would improve. And he could stop eating raw frog legs.

He had little of his human dignity left, but he certainly had nothing else.

As if sensing his thoughts, the game gave him a gift: from the depths of a slowly swirling eddy, a large, swollen fish peacefully floated up and wriggled lazily into the shallows. Dark stayed motionless until the creature was about to bump into his leg, then lifted his spear and dropped it in one fluid motion without even bringing its tip out of the water.

Clouds of sand filled the water, dropping visibility to zero. But his hands, gripping the spear, could feel that something big and strong was writhing furiously at the other end. Dark added downward pressure, pushing the tip into the bottom of the river and preventing the fish from escaping, and began to drag his prize to the land, using his trailing foot to kick the fish’s tail. It would hopefully think the danger was in that direction and allow itself to be pulled the other way. Perhaps it would even help.

He jerked his arms and tossed the fish up on the bank, then beat it with his bare fists as he held it down with his knee. Out of its element, the fish lashed furiously but was unable to deal him any damage. Many punches later, Dark expected the carp, or whatever it was, to disassemble itself into meat, eyes, and fragments of bones and scales. But the game surprised him with its realism this time. The dead fish looked like a dead fish.

My first catch.

He grinned. The fish was raw, but it was preferable to frog legs. He still had to fight hard to keep from gagging on the latter.

Note: Personal victory! Lazy Barbel killed! Weak mob. Level 2. Location sensation level: 10%. Personal sensation level: 60%. Bonus for fighting in the enemy’s natural environment: 100%. Penalty for killing the enemy outside of its natural environment: -50% bonus. 18 progress point received. The following skills played a significant role in this battle: Athletics, Heavy Weapons, Physical Attack, Physical Critical Hit, Reaction, Accuracy, Hand-to-Hand.

Progress points distributed.

+3 Athletics progress points.

+3 Heavy Weapons progress points.

+4 Physical Attack progress points.

+1 Physical Critical Hit progress points.

+3 Reaction progress points.

+2 Accuracy progress points.

+2 Hand-to-Hand progress points.

Dark couldn’t believe his eyes. Less than an hour ago, he had moaned in disappointment at a similar message. This time, he was overjoyed.

He had nearly died during that encounter with a meager beaver. The victory had taken all of his strength and had, in the end, been a sad one. And for progress points, the system had dropped him a few crumbs.

But this time, while he was busy letting the river wash his wounded legs, he had speared a fish that happened to pass by.

It hadn’t even tried to bite him or deal him any other kind of damage. Escape had been its only goal. The beaver might have learned a thing or two from it.

It had been level 2, a whole level under the doomed beaver, and yet Dark had received the same experience for defeating it, minus one. All because killing mobs in their natural environments, when those environments were something other than dry land, earned more experience. Dark had even taken a penalty for killing the creature on dry ground, but still, the reward had been significant.

Forget the beavers. Fish was where it was at! Dark had seen them floating along in the shallows before. He had passed them by, some primal, vengeful urge driving him to fight the beaver instead.

I’m an idiot.

It was time to leave the dam dwellers and squishy green reptiles alone.

And time to forget about killing Chitin Hunters.

They had killed him in the middle of the night twice now.

Dark touched the fish’s side and investigated the loot it held for him. Scales, fish meat, fish bladder, fish bone, fish liver, and fish roe. He had expected as much.

But the fish roe—now that was something. Caviar was better than raw frog legs, he was sure. He tossed some of it in his mouth. And grimaced. It wouldn’t make him vomit, but it was too bitter. An unbearable thirst filled his gut, and he moved towards the stream, but three steps down, his legs lost all feeling and he collapsed face first into the sand.

Note: You have discovered a property of Lazy Barbel roe: poisonous. This poison instantly drains 50% Stamina when it enters its victim’s bloodstream or digestive tract.

Warning: Try an unfamiliar food to attempt to discover one of its properties. This is useful for Alchemists. However, you risk losing Stamina, Health, or Mana by doing so, and may incur various short- or long-term penalties. The most potent ingredients may even cause the death of your character.

Discovered 1 alchemical property for 1 low-level ingredient. Location sensation level: 10%. Personal sensation level: 60%. 1 progress point received.

Progress points distributed.

+1 Knowledge progress point.

It was a painful fall, but at least he had gained a progress point. Sadly, it was to a craft skill, not a base skill. And craft skills didn’t pump levels. Perhaps it would come in handy in the future.

All of the terrible thoughts he had experienced after the beaver fight were gone now. This wasn’t the best day of his life, but it had opened new possibilities.

Now escaping this place was not a question of how many frogs, how many days, or how many deaths—it was a question of how many fish.

Chapter 21

Experienced Explorer

Total stat levels: 5

Character level: 0

Mastery level: 0

Dark spent several hours working the strongest wood he could find by the cliff, breaking two flint hand axes in the process. They shattered into tiny fragments, which he put to work in concert with his homemade glue. It was a lot of work, but the result was worth it. The game christened it “Primitive Sword.” It dealt more damage than a spear, and its Durability was better. It made it through a decent fight without breaking. Minor repairs fixed it up to full Durability.

Beaver’s attack deals 0 damage. Your armor holds.

It had better hold! Dark had spent a long time on the armor. It only covered his legs, but that was all he needed. Beaver hide, solid wood plates, and fish skin had crafted shin guards that were quite sturdy, if smelly. They were held together by glue and the wood fibers wrapping them. Two or even three fights would not be enough to break them—after that, he would have to remember to repair them or he would lose them permanently. Making new armor would take too much time.

You deal Beaver 11 damage. Beaver is stunned.

One advantage of heavy chopping weapons was that a sweeping blow to the head usually stunned animals, rendering them unable to attack or to defend themselves. They would just squeal and shake their heads. Sometimes it took them a second to come to their senses. Other times, it took several. Either way, the lull was a chance to attempt to stun them again.

This time, the repeat stun failed. Dark jumped away from the beaver’s counterattack and crouched down, then brought the sword down to the earth. His blow took the beaver in the front legs. It was his fourth attempt at this move in this fight, and at last it worked.

You deal Beaver 12 damage. Critical damage: broken legs.

Dark grinned evilly and moved a few more steps back, then grabbed the spear he had lodged in the sand. As always, the beaver continued to come after him, despite its injury. Now he would lead it to the tip of the sandbar. Thanks to the beast’s fractured legs and caviar-dart-poisoned blood, the furry fiend would take a couple of minutes to reach him. He would just slowly retreat towards his target, without getting too far away. Otherwise the enemy might return to its dam and require a new provocation to attack Dark. That could go either way: the beaver might attack on its own, yes, but it also might call for one of its fellows, fresh and full of health, to join the fight.

Or a few of its fellows, a case that Dark had encountered before.

Once he reached the edge of the sandbar, he turned and sat, then took another blow down low to the ground. He hit the beast’s paws again, but sadly without any breaks. Unperturbed by this, Dark pushed back to the water and collected the lattice of thick branches he had made, lined with sharp stakes. He heaved it down at the squealing mammal.

You deal Beaver 16 damage. Beaver is stunned.

The sharp sticks didn’t do much damage, sure, but their purpose was to hold the enemy, not kill it.

After a couple of additional strikes, Dark checked the enemy’s info box and saw that its life was preposterously low. It would be dead after two more stabs.

He activated Avalanche of Feeling.

If the beaver escaped within the next thirty seconds and attacked, Dark might very well faint at the first bite. This location’s sensation level and his race’s susceptibility to pain were a hellish cocktail already, and now they were multiplied by the magic ability he had just activated.

But the beaver wouldn’t make it.

Dark circled around and precisely stabbed the beast in the back, just to the side of its spine. He pulled the spear from the fresh wound and stabbed again at the same point.

Note: Personal victory! Beaver killed! Weak mob. Level 3. Location sensation level: 40%. Personal sensation level: 180%. 52 progress points received. The following skills played a significant role in this fight: Athletics, Heavy Weapons, Physical Attack, Physical Critical Hit, Light Armor, Ranged Weapons, Poisoncraft, Accuracy, Physical Evasion, Physical Defense, Speed.

Progress points distributed.

+5 Athletics progress points.

+12 Heavy Weapons progress points.

+14 Physical Attack progress points.

+3 Physical Critical Hit progress points.

+3 Light Armor progress points.

+1 Ranged Weapon progress point.

+2 Poisoncraft progress points.

+2 Accuracy progress points.

+3 Physical Evasion progress points.

+3 Physical Defense progress points.

+4 Speed progress points.

One more beaver down. Unlike with the first, this time he felt no disappointment. His legs felt great, he wasn’t exhausted, and he received an impressive 52 experience points. Nearly triple what that first beaver had given him.

His opponent had been identical. Both its appearance and its stats. A typical weak beaver mob. The base experience for a mob like that was its base level times 5. Level 0 mobs were an exception, since the minimum XP that could be awarded was 1. The frogs were a good example of that.

The huge difference was the simple result of battle calculations.

The beaver’s level was 3. Multiplied by 5, that meant 15 XP, plus a distributable point which Dark still never received due to some immature stat. Which stat exactly, he didn’t know.

So he counted only base XP. There was a reason he had lured the beaver to the edge of the sandbar. The creature had to die here, in the location where sensation emulation was at 40%. With his Ethrian race bonus, Dark experienced 90% sensation here, good and bad sensations alike. And when he activated Avalanche of Feeling, he experienced 180% sensation. A near-double dose of whatever he should feel, be it misery or jubilation.

He had no idea why the developers had created such a bonus, but there was no point guessing. If his character level was equal to the mob’s or boss’s level, then his base XP was multiplied by whatever his total sensation multiplier was. At 10%, this multiplier was 1.1x. At 20%, it was 1.2x. And so on.

The total was then further multiplied by a level difference modifier. If his level and the mob’s were the same, that was 1x. If the mob was one level below him, 0.9x. And so on, down to 0.1x. Below that, the math stopped working, and XP was cut to 1 point to prevent powerful characters from farming weaklings. If the enemy’s level was 1 level higher, this multiplier was 1.1x. And so on, adding 0.1 for each level of difference, this time without any upper limit. The calculations for distributable points were similar, though Dark couldn’t receive those yet. The total results were always rounded down.

So his 15 progress points were multiplied by his sensation multiplier of 2.7x and then by 1.3x for the level difference between Dark (0) and the beaver (3). That was 52.65 XP in total.

Math wasn’t Dark’s favorite pastime, but he had to do it in order to figure out his best course of action. So, shifting the battlefield slightly and using his race skill at the right time nearly tripled his progress.

He evaluated the Durability of his weapon and his trap and concluded it should be sufficient for one more beaver. Walking along the dam, he would raise his spear. Throwing it would start the conflict. It had not broken, so Dark simply re-applied the poison and was ready to use it again.

Still, the beavers had a small break before their doom continued. His skill took an hour to cool down, and it didn’t make sense to fight without the 100% sensation bonus, as it made such a big difference in the progress points he earned. Yet Dark wasn’t about to lounge about on the beach.

Striding confidently downstream about two hundred yards, he reached a dead tree which had collapsed into the water. The larger river dwellers often fed here. If the location was promising, he would be back to wipe out the local fish population.

Even along the way, he didn’t waste time. Now and then he would reload his slingshot with the pieces of flint left over from his club production and take shots at the frogs. It was much easier to hit this way, shooting rather than throwing, and by using flint scraps instead of rocks he avoided carrying the extra weight.

Dark’s equipment was no longer valueless junk. On his third attempt, he had made a bag out of a beaver pelt that was excellent quality, at least for a novice like him. In the real world, even a homeless man would have rejected it, but it carried twenty-six cells of inventory. Each could carry an ordinary stone or a hundred small stones, so he no longer had trouble carrying ammunition around.

But the bag had filled up quickly. Soon he had more than a dozen hiding places filled with all sorts of things. Good-quality sticks, pieces of flint, bones and pelts. Even the less successful bag crafting attempts had made small bags suitable for carrying alchemy ingredients. Perhaps they’d come in handy later. He’d saved everything that might have some use in the future. What could he need fish bladders for, anyway? Well, at first he hadn’t known the answer to that. But as he dug through thousands of official forum posts, he found a message in which a generous player made a helpful comment.

He followed up and manufactured a primitive stone mortar and ground frog bones to powder with it. The helmet he had grabbed from the skeleton became a pot, and in this pot he simmered a mixture of bone powder and fish bladders. After a few minutes of boiling this concoction, he had decent glue for making flint swords and bone harpoons.

But it didn’t stop there. Without any hints this time, he figured out that strips of fish bladder soaked in a clay solution could substitute for rubber. That let him craft a slingshot, and his frog-slaying efficiency was multiplied. He could hit frogs far from the shore, and hit them often, and he didn’t have to carry a bunch of heavy stones around. He could kill more in an hour now than he had killed in a day before. Perhaps even more than he could in a week, but alas, their population dropped to zero too quickly. Searching for new backwater areas would cost time and risk stumbling into a serious threat. Dark had learned that this area of the riverbank was one of the safest areas in the whole region. Upstream and downstream both, he had seen large black cats with eyes of fire. They could kill him in one or two hits, unless he escaped by running deep into the water.

Dark circled a thicket of thorn bushes, turning back towards the bank, and stopped at the sight of a large beast. It looked like a deer with massive horns. They came to get a drink now and then—he had even hit one with a shot from a bow at one point. It had fled in a scramble of hooves, obviously showing no aggression. But the arrow had taken so little of its health that he knew he was too weak to tackle such an animal.

Should he go scare it off? Begone! Drink not from the forbidden waters of Dark! The beasts had trampled the whole area down. He had seen their tracks when first he reached the river.

From here, he could see the skeleton of the unknown half-submerged monster, and something large was splashing around it.

Perhaps that would make a good spot. That skull had been positioned perfectly for a fishing perch. The water was certainly not shallow, but his harpoons had coarse twine tied to them, and he would be able to hold his prey from escaping. And being on an island of bone amidst deep waters, no black cat or other dangerous predator would be able to sneak up on him.

It was worth a try.

Chapter 22

Lands of the Ancient Treasure

Total stat levels: 6

Character level: 0

Mastery level: 0

As he had suspected, Dark was unable to wade out into the river. He tried, but thirty yards was the closest he could get. So he left most of his things on the shore and went swimming, for his first time in eight days of gameplay. Fears of creatures from the depths were unfounded, and he reached the skull quickly without losing any of his harpoons.

Climbing onto the skull, he perched on its left parietal bone and saw schools of decently sized fish floating around underneath its tusk-like protrusions. He could tell that level 2 fish were available here near the surface and that bigger quarry was sometimes visible deeper down.

Settling in, Dark began. The first fish took a harpoon, and he dragged it up to him in moments, while it was still in shock. Wrapping the harpoon cord around a three-foot-long incisor, he raised his flint pickax and hit the fish’s head and spine over and over. Quickly, without any regard for his Stamina. His prey was unable to escape, its leash too short, and it made no move in self-defense besides writhing and spraying Dark with water. The victory message appeared less than a minute later.

Good catch. Delaying the kill was not a good idea, since the harpoon cord was weak and would quickly fail when presented with prolonged struggle. This had already happened a couple of times, resulting in the loss of his quarry, and once even in the loss of a weapon. His pickax had been quite difficult to make, since it required large pieces of flint, which were rarely found.

The game counted a pickax as similar to a hammer: usable both as a weapon and as a tool. So it boosts his Hammers skill, and that was one that Dark had found no other way to boost.

After collecting a bunch of mediocre trophies, he frowned at his harpoon. Its Durability had decreased, and so had its Damage. It might not be enough for the next fish. He could probably repair it one more time. The materials were simply not high enough quality, so they couldn’t take endless repairs.

His harpoon was weak, his rope was weak, and his pickax, while still strong, would not be for long. One or two more fish and it would lose a damage point. Then Dark’s repair job might work or might disintegrate it into a pile of useless flint scraps. He would have to try to spend a portion of his materials to make the necessary flint blade again.

I have to figure out some better way to manage resources here. Flint was too rare on the coast and took too long to find, and most of it was low quality. But for making weapons, it was miles better than wood and fish bones.

Wait. Bones. Dark was sitting on the skeleton of some unknown creature the size of a whale. This game prevented you from using everything in the environment: certain things were usable, and the rest were not. But it was worth checking out.

Dark stared at the place where the creature’s nose once sat and summoned the information panel.

Remains of a Giant Quathos. Elite Mob. Level 147. Base skill progress points: 4410. Base distributable skill progress points: 735. Detailed stats: unavailable. Abilities: unavailable.

A monster slain by unknown heroes in the days when darkness and chaos struggled for domination over the world. The monster was cast down into the River of Tears, and time has taken all of its flesh but its bones. The unknown heroes did not claim the loot that was rightfully theirs; now anyone who finds a path to these forgotten lands may seize it.

What a monster! With their level difference and Dark’s sensation multiplier, if he defeated this mob in battle, he could in theory receive hundreds of thousands of skill progress points. But there was no possible scenario in which he would be victorious. A beast like this could kill a dozen novices like him by just spitting at them. Or maybe even by looking at them.

But Dark was not interested in the hypothetical. His initial interest, getting some nice bones, was gone. The final sentence of the beast’s description changed everything.

Was Dark perched atop a mob someone had once killed long ago, only to leave the loot behind? The fact that nothing but bones were visible didn’t mean anything in this game.

The trophies could be under its spine, or at the bottom of the river, or completely invisible except in the loot collection screen.

Afraid to open this Schrodinger box, Dark hesitantly put his hand up against the skull and press the Collect Loot icon. It obediently expanded into fourteen cells with stylized icons of objects stashed in the beast’s remains. 1 Mountain Drakh Fang Club, 1 Fire Steel Helmet, 2 Fire Steel Armor Fragments, 1 Large Essence Crystal, 2 Small Essence Modifiers, 1 Level 147 Shining Soul Essence, 2 Vials of Mana Potion, 1 Quiver of 26 Krecher Bone Tip Arrows, 2 Giant Quathos Fangs, and 2 Giant Quathos Bones.

He couldn’t discern anything besides names and flashy graphics. In order to learn the stats, values, and limitations of these items, he would have to collect them.

He paused. This was not his first day in X. He knew these remains had been here for a long time. How long exactly, he couldn’t be sure. But he knew how to turn them into dust. Once he took the loot, the skeleton would crumble. This was probably just a mechanism to keep the land clean—otherwise corpses of worthless frogs, mice, and birds would litter every field and forest. That would make for an unseemly and unwieldy game world. But this giant quathos was no joke. It might be kept here for many years. The lore of the world, of course, said it had been here for centuries.

Dark knew that this loot was orders of magnitude better than anything he had seen thus far. Perhaps the fang club was mighty enough to sweep away a beaver and its dam together. In one blow. The chitin hunters, too. But could he wield it?

A level 147 monster would have loot of roughly matching levels. No novice could use any of this. Even using the material for primitive crafting wouldn’t work out. Though the game did not display any levels for raw materials, he had learned in the forum that they did exist, just inaccessibly buried somewhere in the code. A novice with approximately zero crafting talent would not be able to work a metal intended to create equipment and weapons for players level 100+ and up. He would have to hold onto them or hope to sell them.

This discovery destroyed his plans for the day. Forgetting about fishing, Dark dove into the forums and began searching for various pieces of information. Among the millions of posts and comments, he looked for anything on new regions discovered by players. Earlier this had not been very interesting to him, but everything was different now.

The future might be very bright, in fact.

Perhaps the fact that he was situated in a location unknown to anyone else was a great blessing rather than a curse. Perhaps.

Fifteen minutes later, Dark was certain that he had drawn a winning lottery ticket. All of this world’s players would envy him, if they knew. Or most. A few had experienced similar luck. But they had encountered problems that prevented them from taking advantage of their full reward.

First of all, new game regions were quite removed from discovered regions. The way to these regions was long and dangerous. Sometimes, a quest chain would lead you to a new discovery. But neither path was an option for single players, no matter how pumped their characters. If there was a way, it wasn’t publicized in the forums.

Players had to party up in order to seek these new regions.

When a party of strong players overcame all the many obstacles in their way and discovered a theretofore-unknown place, sometimes it wasn’t worth it.

X had a complicated lore full of magical catastrophes and ancient wars. New locations could be devoid of anything of value. Lifeless fields of slag and oceans of lava were common in a post-cataclysmic world. Nothing survived a volcanic flood.

But this game was unpredictable. Sometimes, you would get lucky. Even filthy rich.

If the location was not incinerated, it might be full of mineral deposits, valuable plants, and common monsters and bosses unseen in other regions. That meant completely new alchemical ingredients and items.

If the location was inhabited by NPCs, it might contain quests with rewards greater than any player dared dream of. A player could earn a great reputation with the locals and became an oligarch of the region. And if there were no intelligent beings around, but there were in the distant past, players could search the ruins of their civilizations for long-lost treasures. Uncovering the secrets of extinct nations could unlock access to new technologies.

One player named ForestBison was often mentioned in the comments. The kid was a legend. He and a weak party had found a location where a dying people eked out a wretched existence, a people which had once been the drivers of the world’s history. Only one city still survived, and most of it had been destroyed. Unfortunate groups of NPCs hid in holes and hovels amid the majestic ruins of old.

The source of the devastation was unclear, since the area was still rich. Dozens of abandoned ancient mines held many tons of valuable raw materials, and they proved simple to restore. Hunting grounds teemed with vast numbers of monsters of all levels, including undiscovered species. A nearby river sparkled with gems which had been extremely rare and found only in expensive jewelry. Jewelry for which mages were willing to trade their right hands, and perhaps a few fingers from their left. The gems were priceless for wielders of elemental magic. Demand for them was colossal, but until this discovery, there had been no supply.

It was a watershed moment. ForestBison had made a discovery that could have turned him into one of the most powerful players in the world of X.

But his future would not be a bright one.

After all, his discovery had not been made by him alone. His party had been made up of various players. Some were cunning and quickly began to work behind the backs of their partymates.

The human element in ForestBison’s story ruined the ending for him.

Dark was unable to piece everything together from the many fragmentary comments, but one thing was clear: One of ForestBison’s fellows, whether on their own or with the help of accomplices, gave access to the new land to the top clan in X. For a price, of course.

Discovering a location made it accessible to everyone, in principle. Anyone could pay real money to teleport to a place they had visited before. And they could bring other players with them. ForestBison failed to keep control of his party. One of X’s most powerful clans, with all of its wealth and its mighty players, crushed the lost world and its discoverer both.

But even the clan’s discipline, which some called draconian, did not prevent new traitors from arising. Or perhaps ForestBison himself, and those loyal to him, made moves to try to fix the situation. Several more clans, weaker clans, soon had access to the location. Large-scale hostilities followed. The new territory became one of the fiercest battlefields X had ever seen.

But that was its own story.

Dark had learned enough. He exited the forum and looked around. Land which no other player had walked on stretched in all directions, and he had no idea how far it extended. No one could get here without a purposefully created teleport scroll. And no one could create such a scroll yet. There was simply no way for other players to reach this zone.

Only Dark could bring them there. He didn’t have such a scroll, and had zero idea how to make one. But he was sitting atop the corpse of a huge monster packed with loot. There were likely more such beasts around. The forums said that intact monster carcasses were common features of abandoned locations. And that such lands were worth scouring for them.

Sooner or later, he would encounter a scroll which let him return to places visited before. Or a whole suitcase of scrolls. After all, it sounded like high-level monsters often dropped scrolls.

But they were also high-level scrolls, of course, so a level 0 character would be unable to use them.

No matter what Dark did, no matter what path his thoughts trod, he keep running into the brick wall of his own inferiority. In order to escape this trap, he had to pump his level up high. Of course, even then, things might not work out.

He could find the scroll he needed and reach the level he desired. Then, he could contact the leaders of the top clan in the world and make the deal of the century. If the forums told the truth, the player or players who had betrayed ForestBison had received a seven-figure reward. In real-world money.

Having that kind of money would help any situation. But he had to consult with other, wiser people first and make sure this was the correct course of action. Otherwise, he might gain new hunters on his trail, even new torturers, in the place of a seven-figure sum. The clan could decide to squash him like a bug. This was a game. He couldn’t file a lawsuit against the clan, and no one would give him seven figures unless there was no other way to obtain what they wanted.

In the real world, there might be courses of action he could take to prevent abuse. Here, anything could happen. Especially when the subject in question was a player who was unable to return to the real world.

Perhaps selling access to this land was off the table, but that wasn’t all he had. It was a new territory that seemed quite sizable. Loot-filled skeletons, ruins packed with treasures, mines dug in the ground. There was a great bounty to be had.

Dark was finally realizing that he had struck the jackpot. For nearly a week, he had been killing for peanuts. So much time wasted on frogs and fish and mortal fights with furry beavers. It was like living in a warehouse of rare delicacies and hunting for dog food!

How had he gotten so lucky?

All of the answers that came to his mind were grounded on dubious assumptions.

Perhaps the Emergency Bot had just been too stupid. It had routinely evacuated the stuck player without considering the situation. Every race in X had one or more start locations. Newbies who created a character could spawn in one of their race’s start locations, or in the start location of another race, if permitted. But the best location was that belonging to your own race. It was there that you’d find the safest conditions: heightened security, many low-level opponents and easy beginner quests, friendly NPCs, and representatives from the most widespread guilds.

So start locations were usually the best choice for evacuation targets. Ergo, the Emergency Bot had sent Dark to his race’s start location.

Without considering the fact that Dark’s race did not exist. It was defective, never finished, abandoned by the developers. And its start location was unknown and uninhabited. Any player who arrived there was an explorer in a rich and hostile land, with all of the consequences that entailed. Kim’s people, of course, had chosen a different starting location, one that was well-suited to their plans for him. The gang’s criminal actions and the AI’s thinking had unlocked an enviable opportunity for Dark.

Enough with the frogs and fish! Dark cast them out of his mind. Or mostly, at least. This was the last day of his miserable existence.

Tomorrow, he would become an explorer.

He would find out what this land had to offer him.

Chapter 23

The Explorer

Total stat levels: 6

Character level: 0

Mastery level: 0

Wasteland Panther deals you 227 damage.

You have died.

Note: Last respawn point selected. You have entered the Central Wastes of Ethria. This is the edge of the world, a place watered with the tears of hopes long lost and dreams long dashed, a cemetery of races long forgotten, or which were never known in the first place.

10 seconds to resurrection. 9...

Dark sat in the phallic shadow and considered.

Three deaths in half a day, and nothing worthwhile to show for it. No matter what path he took along the cliff, he always ran into some huge angry cat. There was no way to escape them, no way to defend himself. One blow from their paws, or sometimes two, was enough.

This Ethria was a terrible start location.

The forums said that start locations were filled with meadows of low-level monsters that posed little danger even to naked players. It was difficult to find any strong monsters there. They were usually located in obviously ominous caves and lairs, distant corners which were easily missed or avoided.

Had Dark been brought to such a place? To a whole location that was a distant corner of the world? Apparently. There were some low-level creatures here, but they were just animals, the kinds that lived everywhere in X. Frogs, fish, beavers, turtles, pheasants, deer. None of them were real monsters, or “mobs.”

The chitin hunters counted, of course. They were not animals, but creatures imagined up by the game developers. The wasteland panthers were similar. Wild cats usually didn’t have huge eyes burning with ruby-red flames.

Players hunted ordinary animals and monsters alike. But Dark was having the worst of luck with the monsters. He still had not met any that he was a match for. They all finished him off in less than three attacks. Still, the forums insisted that he needed to kill monsters in order to level up.

Of course, this location could be defective. Perhaps the AI paid it little attention. Why balance the location when Ethrians never existed, and never would?

Dark might just be wasting his time. If there was a good place to grind around here, he wasn’t seeing it.

Still, only half a day was wasted.

He’d keep going, but not the same direction. How about the other way along the cliff, to the left? That is where he noticed the ruins and the suspiciously round mound on the way to them.

But there had been far too many dark bald patches on the way, where those chitin beasts lived. How could he avoid running into them?

Perhaps they actually, helped, though. Their presence might explain why no panthers had intercepted him on his many trips to the river. As long as he could see the bald patches, he could go around them. Hopefully.

* * *

The ground underfoot became different. Dark was still barefoot, after all. No change escaped his notice. He had experienced no difficulty with the dirt anywhere else. Even with his normal Ethrian bonus, the sensation experienced by his feet was lower than in the real world. And clay soil was nice and smooth. When a thin layer of sod covered it, it was as comfortable as a carpet. As long as he kept an eye out to make sure he stepped on no dry branches.

This area held no dry branches, but it was still becoming more unpleasant to walk on. Dark reached down and plucked several sharp pebbles from the soil. He had only previously encountered them at the base of the cliff. All of the stones by the river had been smooth. Stepping on them had been annoying at times, but never painful.

These did not appear to be the same stone. Nor were they sandstone, like the cliff rocks. These had a rounded shape but sharp edges and were dark colored with spots of blue.

A common rock. Class: none. A small piece of marbled limestone. Cannot be used as a melee or ranged weapon. However, it can be used as a light projectile for a slingshot. It will only damage the weakest of enemies, and only at close range. Base damage: 1 x (1 + Strength). Minimum level: none. Estimated value: even the simplest of idiots will not buy these, unless he produces lime. In that case, he might buy them, as long as you have a wheelbarrow full.

Dark hadn’t held limestone before. The geology of the area was changing. Perhaps that meant some other fundamental changes to his location, as well. He was approaching something new. The next clearing did not look like a chitin hunter’s lair. He had seen many of those on the way, and had not received any unusual stones in his feet.

But as he rose, he heard a familiar sound behind him. With a sigh, he turned. There it was: a large cat, twenty paces away. It stared at him with its eyes of red fire as its hisses grew in volume. His experience told him that in about five seconds it would cease its noise and charge its prey.

There was no point in trying to escape. Each of his three deaths proved that the panther could catch him in fifteen seconds or less.

“Come on, get it over with!” Dark screamed inwardly, picturing himself walking those three or four miles all over again, avoiding the bald patches the whole way.

But he wouldn’t give up yet. He charged the opposite direction, at maximum speed. There was no point to conserving Stamina. When he respawned, it would be refilled, or at least mostly.

Dark cleared a little over thirty yards, and the panther was still hissing. The man encountered a dense thicket of prickly shrubs, but he charged on. He pushed through, ignoring the tiny damage dealt him by the thorns. The beast with the burning eyes would go around the thorns, rather than move through them. Dark had earned himself a bit of time.

Perhaps something up ahead would give him a chance at survival.

He emerged into a bush-free glade and screamed in pain as he stepped on a rock as sharp as glass. It was no pebble. He might as well tie it to a stick and get a spear out of it. The man imagined a developer chuckling to himself as he placed the razor in the earth just to trip up newcomers.

He limped on, blood gushing from his foot. All of the thickets disappeared around him, now, as he entered a fully open area.

Behind, he heard the sounds of his doom. The panther was on his tail, and approaching fast.

Dark slid around the final bush and began to slow his pace. The land was devoid of grass, a strip of yellowish soil littered with stones, and beyond it... nothing.

A cliff.

Why hadn’t he seen this cliff before? He hadn’t noticed any significant drops from up on high. That had been a good distance away, of course, but surely such a change in altitude would not have escaped his gaze.

He pressed on without veering. Even if it were a bottomless pit, it might allow him to repeat the stunt with the skeleton. He could pause on the edge and let the panther take a running jump at him. Dark would die, yes, but the mob would follow him to the grave soon afterward. The game would consider the animal’s death as a victory against a high-level animal for Dark, with excellent rewards.

But there was no abyss beyond the drop. Just a small river. It wound through numerous boulders and cut into the rocky shores on either side. The height of his “cliff” was under fifteen feet. It could only cripple him if he failed to land correctly.

Still, he moved as quickly as possible. The panther was close. He lunged as powerfully as he could manage, aiming for a deep hole just behind a huge boulder.

And he nearly made it. In real life, he would have. But here, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t overcome the limitations of his newbie character’s body. It was as if he was jumping while encumbered by barbells. The result clashed with his own instincts born of his physical experience.

He plopped to the ground yards from his intended destination. Of course, had he gone a foot further, he would have landed on the boulder rather than in the water next to it.

Not that the water softened his fall much. It was too shallow. Dark suppressed the pain and jumped forward again, almost blindly. He caught his foot between two rocks at the very edge of the pit in which he had planned to land. Thankfully, the game’s realism had coated the rocks with slippery algae, and he pulled free. Yanking his foot out didn’t even hurt.

Biting his lip, he clambered up onto the sharp stones biting into his bare feet. Seizing roots dangling overhead, he completed his climb.

At last he allowed himself to look around. Doing so lost him time, but he had to wonder what had so occupied the panther that it hadn’t caught him long ago.

The angry black cat had stopped on the other side of the river, in fact, and refused to jump in. It scowled at Dark, its body tense.

The ruby red eyes burned brighter than ever. He imagined these cats had excellent night vision.

Of course, wasteland panthers with eyes of fire didn’t like water, but this was too much. The “river” was a stream, easy to cross by hopping from one stone to another without getting your feet wet. A mob with feline dexterity could bound across in seconds. But this one had stopped atop the opposite bank, making no attempt to pursue the human.

Dark noticed the soil change once more. No more sharp stones were pricking his feet. The ground was not clay, however. Better: it was covered in green grass. The area had the look of a lawn which had been neglected for months but then recently cut again, albeit irregularly and sloppily.

You have left the Central Wastes of Ethria location. Welcome to Outer Omertis.

That confirmed Dark’s assumptions. This stream was a location border. Now the soil and the vegetation were different, as this was no longer a wasteland. The panther was apparently bound to its location. No matter how close its prey, it was obliged to cease its pursuit. Hissing, it pulled an about-face and returned the way they had come.

Of course, things could be worse than they seemed.

This was a new location. It might hold creatures so fearsome that the panther was unwilling to get within a mile of them. He remembered how the beaver turned and fled when Dark had entered the home of the chitin hunter.

In any case, he would be in no hurry to create a new respawn point. The sad affair of the skeleton’s serial slaying was still fresh in his memory.

Chapter 24

Discovery Bonuses

Total stat levels: 6

Character level: 0

Mastery level: 0

Ripened fruit of the gasthos tree. Alchemical ingredient. Known properties: none. Poison level: unknown. You can risk eating these. Positive effects: unknown. Negative effects: possibility of poisoning.

The fruit was attractive and smelled appetizing. Dark barely resisted stuffing it in his mouth. Nothing had tried to kill him during the past fifteen minutes of exploration. But this land was full of life. Birds sang in all scales and modes, butterflies of all colors flitted about, deer grazed in green meadows kissed by sparse but verdant groves, the grass was lush yet trim, and rabbits and pheasants dodged and ducked under bushes filled with berries.

It was a paradise. Perhaps it was even the start location intended for Ethrian beginners. He felt none of that sense of continual danger which had in six short days become an integral part of his consciousness. Dark grabbed the fruit. He was willing to risk some gastrointestinal distress.

What if the fruit was fatally poisonous? Then he would have to push through the wasteland again, avoid the evil panthers, and let the sharp stones consume his bare feet. That would lose time, even if he made it on the first try.

This location seemed safe. He decided to relocate. This would be his new home, and he could explore outwards from here.

But try as he might, he could not find a landmark that worked as a new respawn point. No ancient ruins, no giant stumps, no prominent stones. Nothing. Just grass, groves, and greenery. The game denied one attempt after another, and Dark always found himself in agreement. He had to find something that genuinely stood out. So, he proceeded, walked in a straight line, slowly but surely.

Once he was two hundred paces from the stream, he turned to walk parallel to it, downstream. Along the way, he counted his steps. This small river should eventually flow into the larger river on which Dark had affected his amphibicide and later his brave beaver battles. Perhaps the biome would shift again and something close enough to a landmark would show up.

He stopped and peered intently forward. There was something new up ahead, yes, but he did not understand what. The trees of yet more groves made it difficult to see, but it wasn’t far.

* * *

Error: You cannot create a respawn point here.

He had been more optimistic about this try. After all, this was a rock touched by human hands long ago—rectangular and mossy and at least a ton in weight. But there were hundreds of them here. Perhaps some giant child had forgotten to pick up his blocks. More likely they were the remains of some massive ancient buildings. There were no clues as to where they had been originally placed. Yet they were ancient ruins. That much was clear. Why was the game not allowing him to create a respawn point?

They all resembled each other. So Dark realized even ancient ruins did not suffice unless they stood out.

He shook his head. Beyond these ruins, the terrain began a sharp downward slope. That likely ended at the large river hiding behind the forest at its base. He noted the dark green stripe visible above the treetops in the distance. The pine forest on the opposite bank. This meadow looked as though a giant plow had pushed through it, and in the center sat a huge pit of indeterminate origin, large enough to fit a full-size basketball court. Its walls and floor were covered with the same emerald green as everywhere else, so it was not a recent addition to the landscape.

The similarity to a bomb site was striking. Dark realized that might have been the cause: a paved road ran from the river up the slope, and it had been bombed. He looked up above the slope, and saw the ruined road take a smooth turn.

A stone pillar of human height stood by. It was unlike anything else in view.

His observation complete, Dark moved towards the pillar, weaving among the scattered blocks and watching his way closely. Many smaller stones lined the ground, after all. Likely these were the remnants of the same paved road which had perished under the force of some unknown ancient weapon.

The pillar was some kind of monolith, with the upper third of it covered in unknown script. The writing was angular, almost hieroglyphic, and Dark knew of no real-world language which looked similar.

Are you sure you want to set this as your respawn point? Note: Your current respawn point will become unavailable thirty-three hours after selecting a new one. Continue (yes/no)?

As last the game rewarded his persistence.

Dark bound his character to the new respawn point, and at last he relaxed. He sank his teeth into the fruit.

It wasn’t so much of a risk now.

Positive effect received: +1 Carry Capacity. Duration: 0.5 hours. This effect does not stack with other effects received from food, but they may complement them.

Excellent. Not only was he not poisoned, he had boosted one of his stats for a time.

Sadly, that particular stat was worth nothing at the moment.

Note: You have discovered one effect of Fruit of the Gasthos Tree: +Perception. Eating the fruit does not grant this effect, but you can attempt to create an alchemical potion that temporarily increases your Perception.

Warning: Try an unfamiliar food to attempt to discover one of its properties. This is useful for Alchemists. However, you risk losing Stamina, Health, or Mana by doing so, and may incur various short- or long-term penalties. In the most severe cases, the death of the character is possible.

Discovered 1 alchemical property for 1 low-level ingredient. Location sensation level: 20%. Personal sensation level: 70%. 1 progress point received.

Progress points distributed.

+1 Knowledge progress point.

Note: You have discovered an unknown ingredient! No player in the entire modern history of X has tasted Fruit of the Gasthos Tree! You receive +250 Knowledge progress points. You receive a bonus +1 to any skill. Congratulations! Keep discovering new things to unlock more generous rewards!

Dark paused and smiled. The umbrella-shaped trees were everywhere, as far as his eye could see. Hundreds. But they only grew in this region, and no other players had been here. As a reward for discovering a new species, Dark had gained experience.

It was indeed a generous reward.

Now he would try everything—nuts, fruits, berries, whatever grew on bushes and trees—no matter how risky it was. Roots, flowers, and the seeds of respectable herbs were also good candidates. By chewing them, he’d learn more properties and receive more temporary buffs or debuffs.

Dark had received a powerful boost to Knowledge, which was difficult to pump, and had received a free base skill point, all by just consuming a single piece of fruit.

Those distributable points were so precious that he was willing to gnaw through the neck of a dire wolf just for one. After all, some skills were not pumping at all. Despite all he had been through, they still sat at 0. Unless he leveled them up, Dark would never reach level 1.

Immersed as he was in math, still he noticed the unfamiliar sound. It sounded like an overgrown bumblebee was approaching him.

When he turned his head, he was surprised to see that it was indeed a large insect. No bumblebee, though. He had no idea what to compare it to. It was similar to a painfully thin, starving rat, but colorful, with a forked tail of indigo blue, thin legs folded up against its chest, and translucent bee-like wings.

Despite its otherworldly appearance, it was not scary. In fact, it was no bigger than a pigeon, and it seemed to show no aggression. Hovering in the air a few feet away, it stared at the man with its huge faceted eyes.

Then, it slowly buzzed towards him. Its mouth was open, and an impossibly narrow pink tongue emerged. Nor was this an attack: it was reaching for the remnant of gasthos fruit Dark was still holding.

The man’s fist slammed into the bug. With a strange squeak, it spun out of the air and plopped down onto a dusty patch of ancient road at the man’s feet. Then the pickax went to work, straight for the head.

Note: Personal victory! Hesh’ell Hatchling killed! Weak mob. Level 0. Location sensation level: 20%. Personal sensation level: 70%. This was a flying mob. You receive double XP! +2 progress points received. The following skills played a significant role in this battle: Hammers, Hand-to-Hand.

+1 Hammers progress point.

+1 Hand-to-Hand progress points.

Note: You have discovered a new creature: Weak mob. Level 0. Base XP: 1. Note: Flying mob. x2 base XP! Health: 2. Mana: 4. Stamina: 3. Aggression: none. Magic ability: slowdown. Poison level: unknown. Chance of valuable loot: very low. General information: a tiny but voracious creature that loves Fruit of the Gasthos Tree. It is possible that parts of its body can be used for food and crafting.

No player in the history of X has ever encountered a Hesh’ell Hatchling! You receive +250 Knowledge progress points. You receive a bonus +1 to any skill. The leaders of the Explorers League may present you with a reward for adding creatures you have discovered from your personal bestiary to the league archives. Congratulations! Keep discovering new things to unlock more generous rewards!

What a day! In less than an hour, he had tried a piece of fruit and whacked a creature that was a cross between a bee and a hamster and that had given him not only points for an abysmally craft skill but also distributable points for problematic base skills.

Being the first explorer in a new location was a rich way to live!

Now for the final touch.

He stretched out his hand and took the loot he could from the bug: a hesh’ell tongue and a level 0 shining soul essence.

Note: You have discovered a new ingredient: Hesh’ell Tongue. Known properties: none. You can attempt to use this in alchemy or taste it yourself. No player in the history of X has ever found a Hesh’ell Tongue! You receive +250 Knowledge progress points. You receive a bonus +1 to any skill. The leaders of the Alchemists League may present you with a reward for adding creatures you have discovered from your personal alchemy records to the league archives. Congratulations! Keep discovering new things to unlock more generous rewards!

Dark smiled like a child who had just unlocked a candy store.

He was starting to enjoy this game, for the first time in his whole session. Not just because he was earning a lot of XP without too much pain or effort. No, because he finally defeated a real enemy. Not a frog, nor a fish, nor a beaver—but some impossible insect.

It was the first mob with a magic ability that Dark had killed. The game awarded more for creatures with magic. In certain situations, killing them earned you progress points for stats that you could never grind by slaying beavers and other animals.

Plus, these creatures had soul essences. Those were connected to improving your combat and magic skills. There was a whole soul system, in fact. A player just starting the game received their first skill: their race-specific ability. It started at level 0 and did not gain strength along with the player’s level. In order to level up your ability, you needed 10 progress points toward it. Each level 0 shining soul essence gave you 1 progress point. That only applied to a level 0 ability, not a level 1 or higher. In order to level up your ability from level 1 to level 2, you needed level 1 essences—and 20 of them this time, not just 10.

It was very much like the skills system, except experience was earned not by killing monsters but by collecting soul essences from them. If your level was higher than your victim’s, even by one, no soul essences dropped. So if you reached character level 20 and still had a level 15 ability, for example, you’d have to buy a lot of soul essences from other players.

Thankfully any new ability you gained was always the same level as your character level. Leveling up too quickly became a bad idea. Players were better off hunting at their level for a while. But this only applied after level 15: shining soul essences level 0 to level 10 could never be transferred to another player. Even above level 10, there was a 90%+ chance that soul essences would be bound. In other words, they could only either be used for the player who made the kill or be discarded and thus destroyed. Loot menus wouldn’t even display these essences to other players at all. There was no way out of it: you’d have to earn them for yourself.

Now, since a player’s first powerful ability was earned along with their class specialization, at level 10, this barely inconvenienced players. They pushed to level 10 as hard as they could, ignoring their start skill and the skills they obtained at levels 1 and 3.

The whole game was designed to make it undesirable to spend any time at lower levels. Start abilities were weak, worth too little to waste time grinding them.

Except in Dark’s case. For him, level 10 seemed impossibly far in the future. Despite his progress, thirteen of his skills still sat at an even 0. He knew how to raise three of them, but hadn’t yet. The other ten, well, he had no clue what he would do with those besides distributable points.

And he only had six distributable points. Once he spent them, he would have four skills that he could not boost. In consequence, his player level would remain at 0.

Dark cursed the sadists who invented this game system. Every stat had one or two problem skills. Adaptability, for example. It had seven skills: Perception, Stealth, Luck, Simplicity, Poisoncraft, Hand-to-Hand, and Charisma. He had not received a single Perception progress point this whole time. It was simply not possible to increase this stat in combat against low-level opponents. They didn’t have any Stealth skill, so noticing them from afar was no accomplishment.

Dark’s Charisma was also stuck at 0, and that was no shock. That stat was mainly boosted by interacting with NPCs, not mobs. Quests and so on.

There were no NPCs here, so he could not boost that skill.

The Endurance stat was in the best shape. Thanks to the kindness of Kim’s assistants, it had been pumped to level 5. Dark’s adventures since had boosted it up to 8. The only problem with this stat was that he had to suffer in order to improve it. Endure heat and cold, walk around X carrying weights, fight opponents when your Stamina was low, and experience painful attacks cutting into your flesh. Day after day of this masochism. Endure. That was the only way to pump the skills in this stat group.

He had managed to suffer. In fact, he was quite talented at it.

It was his race’s specialty, after all.

The two magic stats were in the worst shape: Intellect and Magic. Each of these stats had four sub-skills, for a total of eight. And every single one of those sat at 0. Dark had no magic attacks. Nor had he seen the opportunity to defend against any magic attacks.

Perhaps he could figure out a way around this. Hesh’ell hatchlings were, according to their description, magical mobs. All he had to do was let them use their skills on him. He wouldn’t get much from a level 0 enemy, but even 1 progress point to a dead skill was worth it.

Of course, if there were hesh’ell hatchlings in this world, there might be mature parents lurking around, too.

Chapter 25

Hesh’ell Hell

Total stat levels: 6

Character level: 0

Mastery level: 0

Dark was at least a hundred paces from the swarm, but its buzzing was enough to block out the chirping of the birds, plus all other sounds. That made sense. There were at least five hundred of the bugs in this place. Not all of them were hatchlings, either. Some were at least level 3, and perhaps higher. Their wings flapped incessantly, and they crowded from one tree to another, nibbling the ripe fruit they craved so strongly.

If Dark had been following in the trail of a swarm like this when he first arrived, he never would have enjoyed a bite of the treasure of the gasthos tree. None of it remained. They didn’t strip the trees bare like locusts, but they certainly left none of the fruit behind. In order to get some fruit he could use to lure some the mobs off, he’d have to circle around them towards the still-untouched trees in their path.

Approaching the swarm was not advisable. Not all hesh’ells were peaceful, and those that were might have their limits. He could see sentinel hesh’ells attacking any living thing that approached the hatchlings. Dark knew this by experience—he had perished to the guards twice on the previous day.

He would use smarter tactics this time. It was best to keep his distance. As long as he stayed off to the side, individuals along the edge would smell the bait he held. They would fly further and further away, far enough that the sentinels would cease watching them.

Then the man would strike.

Huge as it was, the swarm moved very slowly from one tree to the next. It was easy to catch up to. Low-level hesh’ells had only one magic ability: a short-term Slowdown ability that decreased the enemy’s speed. His slingshot dealt exactly one damage to a bug, as long as it didn’t crit. Then, he would let the angry enemy use its ability before finishing it off.

This algorithm would hopefully prompt the game to give him some progress to Debuff Resist. Until today, he had held no concept of how to increase that skill.

Stronger hesh’ells had more skills. They were too strong for him, for now. He had defeated a hesh’ell harvester and a hesh’ell worker. They were levels 1 and 2, respectively, and in addition to reducing his Speed, they had been able to hurt his Perception (which was already 0) and reduced his Accuracy. Since Dark’s Accuracy was one of his most developed stats, he hadn’t taken offense at that.

But the whole affair would only boost his Debuff Resist. The other seven magic skills were also at 0.

He noticed a hesh’ell cutting off from the swarm, drawing closer, and gave a wave of the gasthos fruit to boost the attraction of its aroma. That was thanks to another tip he had seen in the forums. This game couldn’t be so complex and huge and yet retain originality down to the grittiest details. Many aspects of this world were copied, replicated from one place to another. Monsters may look different, but they often behaved alike.

Dark waved the stick with the fruit tied to it once more, then stuck it into the ground and took three paces back, drawing his slingshot and loading a stone. The plump hesh’ell turned and stared intently, then flew up slowly and began licking the bait, trying it out.

Twang. The rock knocked some of the translucent scales from its wings. Now the tone of its buzzing changed. It stayed in the air, but moved as if it was drunk.

Turning towards Dark, it shuddered slightly, and a blue shine swept across its whole body.

Hesh’ell Worker reduces your Perception by 3.

Dark sprang forward and attacked with his coarse, short flint knife. It wasn’t the most convenient weapon, and he had spent an hour making it. But he had to grind his Light Weapons skill somehow.

The hit connected but failed to deal enough damage to kill the hesh’ell. He had planned for this—his other arm was already mid-swing, slamming the humming mob with his pickax.

This blow did not eliminate the creature’s life, either, but it did seriously damage its wings. The wings were too fragile, and hitting them directly almost always resulted in criticals.

Only the sentinels attacked physically—the others just buzzed in terror and tried to fly away with their torn wings. This one did exactly that, and Dark finished it off with the knife.

Note: Personal victory! Hesh’ell Worker killed! Weak mob. Level 1. Location sensation level: 20%. Personal sensation level: 70%. Level difference: 1. This was a flying mob. You receive double XP! +34 progress points received. The following skills played a significant role in this battle: Heavy Weapons, Light Weapons, Ranged Weapons, Accuracy, Debuff Resist, Physical Critical Hit.

Progress points distributed.

+5 Heavy Weapons progress points.

+5 Physical Attack progress points.

+7 Light Weapons progress points.

+4 Ranged Weapons progress points.

+5 Accuracy progress points.

+5 Debuff Resist progress points.

+3 Physical Critical Hit progress points.

Much better than a frog. Dark had finally pushed his Light Weapons skill up to level 1. It had taken nothing more than killing a cloud of mobs with a clumsy flint knife.

A smile crossed his lips as he looked through the menu. He had entered this location with thirteen level-0 skills. That number was now ten. Light Weapons and Debuff Resist were up to 1. And by thrashing mobs with a shield of woven branches, he had pumped Shieldbearing up to level 1—at the very moment the shield fell apart.

As a bonus, he had gained four more distributable skill points, for being the first player in the game to ever kill a hesh’ell harvester and a hesh’ell worker. Dark hadn’t killed any of the other kinds of mobs yet, and eating other plants had not resulted in any new discoveries, though they had often given him debuffs on his skills and occasionally on his stats.

He had 10 distributable skill points now. And ten skills that were at level 0. All of these skills were those which Dark had no way to level up without distributable points. Or at least no idea of how. He could search for mobs that attacked with damage-dealing or control-effect magic. How much time would that take him? That was a great unknown.

His arsenal needed some work, too. Nearly everything he had built on the river bank was broken by now, and what was still intact had perilously low Durability. A few more fights, and he’d be reduced to fists. His light armor and a sword he had crafted of wood and stone were no more, and he had no more flint pieces with which to repair his pickax. The work would take hours, and the search for raw materials might take days.

Not that he was in any hurry to get anywhere. But he had enough of spending hours making powerless weapons which broke quickly. Finding better raw materials and making stronger items sounded much better.

Dark could also greatly strengthen his character right here and right now. With a few quick mental taps, all of his skills would be at level 1. His character would at last level up. Even without armor or weapons, he would become a little more difficult to defeat, since he would take a little less damage.

Even simple wooden spears could now be more easily made, with a flint hand ax, out of any usable stick. A spear dealt 3 damage, and that was multiplied by his Strength plus 1. Since Dark was at level 0, that meant a multiplier of 1 + 0. But if he increased his Strength stat, that would grow to 1 + 1. Doubling his damage. A spear would now deal 6 damage.

The same old spear would be doubly effective.

That would make quite a difference. There was more. Once he hit level 1, Dark would be able to choose an additional ability. These low-level abilities were famous for being worthless. But beggars couldn’t be picky.

Of course, the best part was yet to come. Players above level 0 not only received normal experience for killing mobs—they also received distributable progress points. The fight Dark had just had might have given him one, for example. It hadn’t since he was still level 0.

That meant that a mere twenty hesh’ells would drop enough for him to level up any skill to level 2. As long as the victim’s level was not too far below the player’s level, every victory dropped these points.

It would have made sense for Dark to immediately level up the remaining ten skills and enjoy the benefits.

But he paused.

Official posts and player comments both recommended that players be very sparing when distributing these skill points. Everyone was encouraged to save them up for higher levels, when character growth was very difficult. Whether you were level 0 or level 100, a skill point was a skill point. But the progress points required to make those moves were 10 and 1010, respectively.

With each skill level, the progress point difference increased.

Dark pondered for a few more minutes. Then, he realized the stupidity of planning for level 100 when he was stuck at level 0. He decided to ignore all of the forum advice. It was targeted to players who cleared several levels on their first day. They could handle stuck skills with distributable points dropped from mobs. But he didn’t even get those points at level 0.

He went through the menu and added points to the remaining skills, one by one.

You have leveled up. Current level: 1. Congratulations!

You have leveled up. Current level: 2. Congratulations!

There, that was done. At last, ten days after escaping Kim’s dungeon, Dark was no longer level 0. An ordinary player could have reached level 15 easily during that time, or even level 20.

But normal game start conditions were quite a bit different.

Why had he leveled up to level 2 immediately? Since all of this skills were now greater than 0, normal level calculation went into effect. His overall level was equal to the sum of his stats divided by six, rounded down. And Dark’s Endurance was now 8, so it pulled his overall level up to 2.

Note: You can now choose an additional race skill.

Dark looked through the options the game provided. There were three of them. He had hoped for more. Since his race was unfinished, the developers must have abandoned it before adding more skills.

The first ability let Dark role-play a hesh’ell hatchling. He could spend some magic energy to slow opponents a little. That could come in handy when he was trying to catch something.

Or, as would likely happen more often, when he was trying to escape something.

The second option was a healing ability, but with a catch. It was only usable when his life bar was lower than maximum. As long as Dark was undamaged, he could neither use it on himself nor heal an ally.

The final option strengthened his skin for a few seconds, providing decent resistance to incoming damage. That one was a non-magical combat ability, so Dark ignored it. It barely spent any Mana, but it ate up Stamina, and its cooldown was too long, plus it would not help him level up any magic skill, which was his primary goal. Only one of his magic skills was pumped naturally, thanks to the hesh’ells.

There was no fourth option. No offensive magic skill, which Dark had been strongly hoping for.

But after another moment’s thought, he chose the second option, the healing ability.

Note: You have chosen an additional race ability: Stream of Regeneration. The Ethrians are a race that has not chosen their path. They remained balanced between light and dark, and there the void consumed them. All of the Ethrian race abilities are contradictions and can include both light and darkness. Stream of Regeneration is no exception. It can only be used when its wielder is on the precipice, between life and death.

Ability Description: A single target receives a continual stream of healing. The strength of the healing is determined by the healer.

Mana Cost: one mana point per health point regenerated.

Can be used on self, on other players, and on NPCs, including monsters. Cannot be used when your health is full.

His choice was made. All of the insults he had heard thrown at low-level abilities had been correct. They were vastly inferior to the options that could be purchased at level 10 and up. In addition, pumping them was difficult, since beginners had few options for finding level 3 soul essences, not to mention level 1 essences. There were really no mobs that dropped them, unless you were on a non-standard path like Dark’s.

Since his Intellect had risen to level 1, his max Mana had increased from 50 to 75. That meant Dark could heal 75 Health. That was less than a third, seeing that his max Health was 250. This spell seemed terrible, since healing abilities usually traded 1 Mana in for 10 or more Health, not just 1-for-1. But it wasn’t completely worthless. How many times had he been in a situation where all he needed was a few more hits on a beaver, but there simply hadn’t been time to deal them? This ability could gain him some time if he was in a difficult battle.

Wait. Dark shuffled around in his bag.

He had accumulated nine level 0 soul essences, eleven level 1 essences, and four level 2 essences. Not enough to level up Stream of Regeneration. When a player received an ability, the ability’s level was equal to the player’s character level, so players tried to get them as quickly as possible. This ability was level 1, and he needed twenty soul essences to increase it to level 2. Nine to go.

Dark used the level 0 and level 1 essences to pump Avalanche of Feeling to level 2. The result was a masochist’s dream, boosting his pain not by 100% but 120%, and for two more seconds than before, for a grand total of 32 seconds.

Well, the swarm was going nowhere fast, and he would keep hacking at hesh’ells, just like he had at level 0. But killing the level 0 hatchlings was no longer profitable. He had to attract level 1 and level 2 beasts, since only they had the soul essences he needed.

* * *

After about an hour of hesh’ell extermination, Dark had the essences he needed to bring his new ability up to level 2. Now every mana point he spent regenerated 2 hit points. Meaning that his whole mana scale would restore 150 health instead of just 75.

That was much better. No longer would he fear the malicious beavers. In fact, he could probably take them down blindfolded with a magical band-aid like that.

His weapon did break during the insecticide, however. Only the slingshot remained, and it was on its last legs. He could spend hours searching for flint and more hours creating the same fragile crap.

Or, he could look for better materials.

Dark knew where to go for the latter. He remembered that suspiciously shaped hill he had spotted from the top of the cliff.

That was his target.

Chapter 26

The Abandoned Mine

Total stat levels: 13.

Character level: 2.

Mastery level: 0

You have left the Outer Omertis location. Welcome to the Omertis Copper Mine.

Note: This is the third location you have visited that no player has seen before! Special skill unlocked: Pioneer. This skill begins at level 3 and levels up for each new location you discover beyond this one. Each subsequent Pioneer level will give you +1 Perception, +1 Luck, +1 Charisma, and +1 Simplicity.

That was a nice surprise. He knew the game rewarded exploration, but that was something above and beyond. Perception and Charisma were not skills he had leveled up with distributable levels, after all. He could have saved those levels by wandering around a little more, if he had known.

The location name confirmed Dark’s suspicions. This hill was exactly what he had hoped it was. Its shape was characteristic of a waste rock dump from a mine.

Sadly, the metal was copper. That was the first raw material that novices could work with, true. Players could develop his crafting skills and make simple weapons, armor, and jewelry. Everything they needed early on.

But it was still metal, not a rock. Mining it would be a trick. Copper was mined as copper ore, a form in which it was worthless. In order to use copper ore for crafting, it had to be smelted into ingots.

And that meant finding a smith’s furnace, or at the least building a primitive oven. It also meant finding coke or charcoal. The former was made from coal, which required a coal mine. The latter could be obtained by burning wood. Coal mines were not exactly plentiful.

And with level 0 Metallurgy, he would require a whole lot of coal. The product of many days of sweat and tears. If he found a coal mine. But if not, he would have to get to cutting down trees with primitive tools. Which also meant sweat and tears. That was in addition to mining and transporting the copper ore. Even for players wielding better than a primitive pickax and more than meager Strength, that was a challenge.

Alright, Dark, just take each problem as it comes up. No sense crying about the ore when you haven’t even seen it yet.

The tall thickets of raspberry plants began to thin. They had been scratching his flesh for the past few minutes. He emerged onto an open slope that descended to a shallow, long depression in the ground. At the closer end of the depression, a rundown log dam held back a small blue lake, from which he could see a narrow river flowing. A large wooden structure was visible, as well. It looked like a waterwheel.

The farther end was more interesting. There, a ruined wall of unworked cobblestone surrounded a pathetic mine. Dumps of waste rock were piled around the entrance and had long since become overgrown with stunted grass. Every building had collapsed in whole or in part. There was one exception: a tower of massive stone blocks. It was attached to a structure as long as the tower was tall, made of the same stone blocks. Even the roof still survived, though some of its tiles had fallen.

It was an ominous sight due to the lack of vegetation and the pitch-black entrance to the mine sitting nearby. But no matter how hard he tried, he failed to spot anything dangerous. The biggest creature he saw was a crow. Frogs croaked by the river and small birds fluttered among the scant bushes and lonely trees placed here and there along the water.

Spear at the ready, Dark descended. He had become quickly used to the pastoral land of the hesh’ells, and this cold land made him uneasy.

As he walked past the dam, he made sure that the ruins there were indeed of a watermill. Indeed, the blades of the wheel were visible, though their mount had fallen into the water. So long had it sat on the bottom that it was nearly covered in algae and was swarmed with freshwater fish of all sizes. At least he had a place to hunt, if it came down to it.

For progress points and provisions both.

The only gates that the mine still possessed were wide open. One door still held to its rusted hinges by some miracle, but the other was flat on the road. He wouldn’t have cared if they were locked and bolted shut. The wall had crumbled in places, and it was short, in any case.

Dark moved towards the tower first. It seemed to be the anchor of the whole complex, and easily the sturdiest structure that had stood here. Anything valuable that still remained from the civilization before would probably be inside.

Its doors were intact. And locked. No matter how hard Dark tugged at the rough copper handle, it refused to budge.

Something seemed wrong. If the inhabitants of Ethria died off long ago, wouldn’t this door have fallen apart, or been destroyed, or at least been left open? There was no keyhole he could see, so he surmised it was locked from the inside. Was someone still living here? Unlikely.

Not that an abandoned game location needed to follow the laws of logic. Although games had their own logic. Anything preventing easy access to a location was evidence that something valuable could be found there.

Dark inspected the door. It seemed decently strong, but not vault-like enough to hold immense wealth. And it was locked from the inside. Perhaps if he opened it, he would find a guard devoted to this site, decomposed into a skeleton over the centuries.

A strong allergy to skeletons had appeared in Dark’s system not long ago.

Stepping back, he examined the walls. The large stone blocks were smooth and carefully fitted, with minimal gaps between them. Attempts to climb them directly were unlikely to succeed. With enough of a boost, though, he could reach one of the first-floor windows. Its barred shutter was ajar.

He looked towards the nearest pile of rubble. Perhaps he could bring enough stones over and stack them up beneath the window. Or perhaps he could search the large, long building connected to the tower. It might have a ladder or something analogous to one. That was the lazier option, so he took it.

As he circled the building, he stumbled into something. Dark swore under his breath, but this time, it was out of pure joy. A large metallurgical furnace, and next to it, a dilapidated coal shed with a pair of anvils.

He really had been foolish to worry so much.

This was everything he needed to smelt and forge copper. Coal was at hand, and perhaps some mined copper ore, too.

He enthusiastically ran to check. The game certainly rejected the laws of the physical world in many ways. The coal had not turned to dust—it was preserved in large, black chunks, as if it had been mined this morning. This despite the fact that its shed was on the brink of collapse. An icon helpfully informed him that the furnace was in working condition.

A smaller shed was situated behind the coal shed. It was equally likely to collapse, but within, Dark found gleaming, green-tinted stones.

He picked one up, catching his breath at its weight, and grinned.

Chunk of rich copper ore. Two of these chucks are sufficient to smelt a copper ingot.

Amazing. He didn’t even have to spend any time mining! The smelting could begin immediately. He had no idea how long the available ore would last him, but it looked to be a greater quantity of material than all of the flint Dark had ever found.

The forge was in great shape. A working furnace was present, of course, and a set of tongs and hammers, which were the tools he needed most. Several ingots of copper and iron lined sat on the racks, along with a level 11 longsword. Despite the centuries it had spent out in wind and rain, the blade was neither rusted nor dull. Its Durability was even at maximum.

This was still a game, after all. Players had the most fun when they enjoyed finding useful items rather than gritting their teeth at yet another pile of worthless dust.

Dark wanted to try making something right now, but he suppressed that impulse. The sky would grow dark by the time he got the furnace up and running. Starting in the morning was a better idea. He could devote the whole day to smelting and smithing.

So he returned to his original intentions: the long annex and the tower window.

Nothing he found in the sheds nor near the furnace could help him reach the tower window. He would continue his search.

The building proved to be a warehouse. Huge racks ran along its walls, and its floor was covered with barrels, crates, and even bags which had, like the sword and coal, been spared the effects of time by the game. Unfortunately, this did not apply to everything. Some items had evacuated to dust, and even the information panel did not appear. Perhaps these had been foodstuffs of various kinds. But there was salt, and in great condition. Honey, too, its smell as alluring as ever.

Dark didn’t mind the food shortage. He was old enough to feed himself.

Besides, this place contained the real treasure of the land: hundreds of copper ingots. Plus leather and fabric, which surprised him, since mines did not produce these materials. But maybe the Ethrians had segregated their industries different than humans were accustomed to doing. Weavers and tanners might have worked in the buildings which now lay destroyed in this complex.

Regardless, his exploration here was done for now, and it was time to approach the locked door.

Chapter 27

The Tower

Total stat levels: 13.

Character level: 2.

Mastery level: 0

Three empty barrels sat stacked, two on the bottom and one on top, under the window. It was a shaky setup, but if it collapsed the fall was unlikely to be fatal.

Dark climbed up onto the top, pushed the barred shutter out of the way, and planted his spear—the one he had crafted before setting off to find the mine—onto the window-sill. Primitive, but it was his only melee weapon, and he doubted that entering a suspiciously locked tower with nothing but a beat-up slingshot in hand was a good idea.

He had no problems climbing into the window, except that when he pushed himself inside, the barrel stairs collapsed behind him. If he had to run away, he’d be faced with a leap down onto the stone-covered ground. Barefoot.

Dark crouched on the inner window-sill and peered into the gloom. He could see the outline of some kind of cabinetry or shelving, a table and a couple of chairs, and a descending railing, like that of a staircase. It probably ran down to the locked door.

Another staircase sat opposite, leading up. Dark wouldn’t be able to get any kind of look up there without ascending himself.

Sliding inside the building, he tested the cold stone floor with his bare feet before committing and releasing the sill. Next, he moved quickly around the perimeter, opening one window and shutter after another.

Soon the room was much brighter, allowing Dark to see the body in the middle of the floor. More accurately, the skeleton. It was robed in a full-length dark gown. An unsightly bronze helmet protected its skull, and a massive spiked iron battle ax rested near its bony arm.

Was this the Ethrian who had closed and locked the door from the inside centuries ago? What had killed him? There were no signs of skeletal trauma. He should have considered how poor Dark would have to scramble up to the window on wobbling barrels. Then perhaps he would have left the door unlocked.

In the shadow of the stairs leading down, the two furious lights of some creature’s red eyes came to light and approached. They belonged to a rat the size of a dog. A small dog, but still a dog.

The man was both apprehensive and relieved at the creature’s appearance. He had felt that something was amiss during his search. Some hint that danger awaited him. Now, he was thankful that his weapon was at hand.

He charged in for the attack.

You deal 11 damage to Mine Rat.

Excellent. A decent start.

Dark’s aggression stunned the overgrown rat, but not for long. It dodged his second strike, then sank its teeth into his thigh.

Mine Rat deals you 20 damage.

That was unfortunate. It hurt like hell, and he lost more hit points than he had taken from the mob. Experience had taught him that when this exchange was equal, it was still possible to lose. When the numbers were this different, victory was a distant dream.

But I won’t give up. He continued the fight, but not as directly. The whole area of the room was his to use. Jumping right and then left, he somersaulted behind the creature and managed to deal a more powerful blow while it turned to face him. Game mechanics aside, an experienced fighter in real life could often apply what he knew in the world of X, too. Primitive AIs and their patterned responses were unable to deal effectively with diverse athletic and combat techniques. They attacked head on, every time, with almost no sense of tactics.

Mine Rat deals you 24 damage.

The rodent’s eyes flashed red as Dark’s knee exploded in pain. Hastily retreating as he looked at the abilities panel, he cursed himself for not activating the skill earlier. His life bar was sinking fast. A few more solid bites and he’d be sitting up against that inscribed post situated along the abandoned road.

Stream of Regeneration! That would refill 150 hit points at the maximum healing speed the game allowed. But it would also drain every last bit of his mana. Mana came back at four units per minute, and this battle would not last long.

The bloody haze in his eyes cleared, and he stabbed at the rat, taking the beast in the eye with his spear.

Critical! You deal 23 damage to Mine Rat. Mine Rat is blinded in the right eye.

Ceasing its advance, the beast backpedaled and shook its head to recover. A decent blow.

Refusing to give the animal quarter, Dark charged. One, two, three hits...

Your spear has broken.

Damn! This was the worst time for a break!

He attacked with the broken splinters in desperation. Yes, a spear shaft made a poor club, but it still dealt more damage than bare firsts. Not enough damage to win.

No, I will not be sent all the way back to that forest! He took another swing as he moved past, rolling backwards toward the stairs and out of the rat’s reach. The rodent missed and rushed at him with a fierce squeal.

Dark stooped down and grabbed the weapon of the dead man on the floor.

Two-handed Battle Ax. Class: primitive. A heavy weapon for a strong warrior. It’s in good condition but could use some sharpening. Melee weapon. Durability: 15/16. Base damage: 8 x (1 + Strength). Current damage: 8 x (1 + Strength). Required level: 7. Estimated value: many merchants would pay a few coins for a weapon like this. A blacksmith may give you more, since he can reforge the old iron.

The situation was too urgent to read everything, but Dark could tell that the weapon’s level requirement wasn’t overly high, its condition was good, and his current damage with it was 16—much more than with a spear.

Perhaps it would defeat the dograt.

He swung at the rat’s head, making no effort to conserve his Stamina.

Critical! You deal 43 damage to Mine Rat. Mine Rat is stunned.

Nice! Dark went in for a repeat blow before the mob regained its senses. The stun would vanish in a couple of seconds and be followed by a quick attack.

With the second blow, his hands trembled and dropped the ax. Maybe this was due to the level difference, or maybe his rock-bottom Stamina prevented him from wielding such a heavy weapon. Now he was empty handed. Behind him lay the stairs and the narrow hallway running to the door. That would eliminate all of his space to maneuver. He’d be trapped, in a dead end.

But it was the only way to go. The rat changed its tactics and jumped at him. Dark lost his balance and fell backward into the stairwell. His spine set to work counting each and every step. The screaming creature bit his shoulder, then released, clearly intending to go for his throat.

Reflex was all that Dark had left.

He jabbed his finger into the surviving eye, gripped the rat’s head by this new handhold, and rolled it to the side. Now he was the one on top. He pressed the rat into the stairs, crushing it as they slid down.

Then his other hand dealt one blow after another to its temple.

Reaching the bottom, they slammed into the locked door. So hard, in fact, that Dark failed to notice himself letting go of the rat. He groaned in pain, the hit taken to his head.

Note: Personal victory! Mine Rat killed! Weak mob. Level 4. Location sensation level: 40%. Personal sensation level: 90%. 46 progress points received. 4 distributable progress points received. The following skills played a significant role in the fight: Athletics, Heavy Weapons, Physical Attack, Acrobatics, Physical Evasion, Speed, Reaction, Accuracy, Physical Critical Hit, Luck, Tolerance, Tirelessness, Unarmored Combat, Hand-to-Hand, Physical Defense, Magic Accuracy.

Progress points distributed.

+1 Athletics progress point.

+8 Heavy Weapons progress points.

+8 Physical Attack progress points.

+2 Acrobatics progress points.

+2 Physical Evasion progress points.

+2 Speed progress points.

+2 Reaction progress points.

+2 Accuracy progress points.

+4 Physical Critical Hit progress points.

+2 Luck progress points.

+1 Tolerance progress point.

+1 Tirelessness progress point.

+1 Unarmored Combat progress point.

+1 Hand-to-Hand progress point.

+1 Physical Defense progress point.

+7 Magic Accuracy progress points.

He won! That was his first victory over a level 4 opponent. Dark’s adrenaline was pumping so hard that he didn’t even complain about the relatively small reward. He could have earned much more experience with much less effort by killing hesh’ells.

Without any pain involved.

Dark examined the results and cursed his idiocy again. He had looked straight at the forge and seen the hammers before deciding to enter the tower.

Hammers were not just tools, they were also decent weapons. Sure, they had a level requirement that was greater than 1, but what did he care? The difference wasn’t that huge.

There had also been two level-6 copper pickaxes in the warehouse. Somehow Dark had failed to realize they could be of more use in battle than a brittle spear.

What had he been thinking?

He had become used to fighting exclusively with items of his own manufacturing.

And he would have been dead if not for that ax.

There was something he didn’t understand in the message: why had Magic Accuracy gotten so many points? Stream of Regeneration was his only real magic ability. And it was definitely not an offensive skill. He knew from the forum that healers regenerating other characters during a battle got progress points for three different magical skills, but none of those were Magic Accuracy.

Perhaps Dark’s skill was buggy, since it had been abandoned, never finished.

Whatever the case, it was not good news. If his skill worked as expected, it would have pumped up to three magic skills without him needing to spend valuable distributable points on them. At least he would get another skill at level 3.

Whether it would compensate for this one, he didn’t know.

When would he reach level 3, anyway?

Nothing insurmountable was impeding his progress. He might level up as soon as the next day.

How was he so confident when just a few days before he had been despondent?

Level 1 had unlocked so many game features for him. Thanks to those, he had worked up 102 distributable progress points from the hesh’ells and the rat. Enough to boost any skill from level 0 to level 4.

His Dexterity was now up to level 2 on its own, and spending 40 progress points had allowed him to push his Strength to 2, as well. Since he was level 1 now, his level was the sum of his stats divided by 6, with no other limitations.

So he had poured the rest of his distributable points into Strength. Level 3. He did not regret that. The fight he had just finished had proved the importance of dealing more damage.

Strength boosted damage, as long as it was physical damage, not magical.

Now, his skill levels added up to 16. Two more points, and he’d be at 18 and thus at level 3.

How many distributable points did he need for that? Just 60, if he was willing to boost Adaptability. Dexterity was easy enough to level up on its own. Only Light Weapons still held it back. One flimsy flint knife and thirty minutes killing hesh’ells would be enough to promote that skill.

He climbed back up to the window sill as he finished up his calculations. Now at least he could dive outside in case this tower housed more than one angry rat. And if any threat appeared outside, he would move back into the tower for refuge. While he thought through the best path forward for his character, his three meters—Health, Mana, and Stamina—were slowly refilling. They didn’t regenerate very quickly, but Mana and Stamina at least could fill up from 0 in eleven minutes. Life took much longer, but that made sense. Thanks to the work of Kim’s henchmen, he had a large number of hit points, for a beginner.

He waited, and nothing else happened. No new rats, no monsters from the mine.

So Dark jumped to the floor and seized the ax. It functioned poorly in the hands of a novice, but it still did much more damage than his spear had done even on its most mighty critical hits.

Only one stubby piece of wood remained from the spear.

Now for the rat. It was quite unimpressive, lying dead on the floor.

So was its loot: torn rat skin, teeth, and meat. Not that he expected anything more from a common level 4 mob. A million-dollar lottery was a more likely win.

Next, he touched the skeleton. Its level 12 helmet could be used to level up his Heavy Armor skill. A single bronze key was also on its person. That was odd, since he remembered no actual lock on the door. Perhaps something on the floor above was locked. Of course, this could just be a worthless trinket suitable only for melting down.

The final item was more interesting.

Novice Sorcerer’s Burlap Cloak. Class: none. A simple cloak is essential for novice mages since it does not impede spellcasting speed. Good condition. Durability: 4/5. Magic Defense (protection from Elemental Magic, Dark Magic, and Chaos Magic): 9. Magic Resist: 1.1% (this is the chance of reflecting a magic attack without suffering any consequences, or in the case of a critical hit, reducing damage and negative effects by half). Physical Defense: 3. Required level: 4. Approximate value: this is little more than a rug with holes cut into it. It might fetch a couple of coins at a market.

This skeleton had been a very strange mage. A heavy helmet, an ax, and ... a burlap magician’s cloak. Dark may have been inexperienced, but even he knew these items were not exactly compatible. A warrior wore armor, heavy or light. Or even none, defending on their fighting style. And a mage conjured with a staff, a rod, or some other wizardly weapon.

The mantle would work just fine for him. Not that he was a mage in any sense. But it would help him grind his stats.

Wearing the cloak in combat would increase one of his skills: Magical Robes. If it somehow defended him in combat, or otherwise helped even a little, it would give that skill some progress points. That, in turn, would save him some distributable progress points.

The final item was predictable: a bone. Dark had retrieved one from the dead skeleton near the stone phallus. In fact, he still had it. No use for it had come up.

Descending the stairs, he made sure that the door was indeed bolted. On the first floor, he browsed the shelves, the cabinets, and the table. No weapons, no armor, nothing else of any use in battle. There were numerous dishes, a writing set, brass candlesticks, blank sheets of parchment, and scrolls in an unknown script.

He proceeded up to the second floor. There, he found a bedroom. The bed looked soft and huge, and he wanted to throw caution to the wind and dive into its embrace. Assorted clothes were kept in a wardrobe. For him, the most valuable item in the entire tower thus far was a pair of rough leather shoes with wooden soles.

At last he could stop walking barefoot through fields of sharp objects. The game was brutal, but sometimes it also knew tremendous kindness. For example, he didn’t have to worry about shoe size. There was no such concept in the world of X. As long as the shoes didn’t belong to some giant, you could wear them comfortably. The boots were a great gift, of course, but he still had hopes that this monument held something else for him. Something much more valuable.

His hopes were not groundless: a huge chest wrapped with banding strips of bronze was positioned at the foot of the bed. Clearly it was not meant to hold dirty laundry. It had to contain the treasures of whoever slept here.

He pulled up on the bronze ring. Locked. In real life, he’d start to think about how to break into it. But this was a game. Find key, chest nearby.

The lock turned as easily as if it had been oiled just the day before.

Dark was a little surprised to see a screen like mob loot collection appear as he raised the lid.

He began to sort through the items. A pair of reinforced leather boots. Light armor. They were meant for level 5 and up, but Dark was close enough to use them. A small artifact of necromancy seemed irrelevant to him. It was suitable for processing the soul of a dead mob so that it could be used for various kinds of dark magic. The topic was a popular one on the forums. A shirt of beaded silk was acceptable as loot. He might take it. No, it offered no protection against magic attacks, nor any against physical ones, but he might flaunt it in an interaction with an NPC since they respected players more when they were well dressed. But this area had no NPCs, and comfortable clothing slowed the progress of certain skills. His Simplicity was already at level 6, but Heat Resist and Cold Resist were at level 4. One silver chamber pot was present, valuable only for the metal it was made of. A merchant would happily buy it, paying for its weight.

Sadly, there were no living merchants here.

The light crossbow was more interesting. It was for a level 8 player, sadly, and reloading was slow. Still, its damage was fabulous, and it came with 20 bolts that could, in theory, each be used multiple times.

Yet the best find was neither piece of armor nor weapon. It was a plain-looking ring.

Gilded Copper Ring, with Rhinestone. Class: common. A simple craft made out of cheap material. It looks unworn. Durability: 5/5. Item bonus: +1 Intellect. Required level: 1. Approximate value: despite this item’s low quality of crafting and material, many merchants would be happy to buy it. For a low price, that is.

Perhaps ninety-nine percent of players in this world would think twice before stooping down to pick this ring up from the dust of the road.

But Dark was firmly set in the remaining one percent.

After all, this was the first item he had which granted him a stat bonus. Wear the ring, +1 Intellect. Take the ring off, +0 Intellect.

These bonuses had no effect on character level calculations. Other than that, they were as helpful as natural increases. As soon as he put the ring on, Dark’s Intellect would improve, and his max Mana would grow by 25.

He was sad to find that the affected stat was Intellect rather than Strength or Dexterity. But magical stats were still stats. They would help his healing ability, at least.

Nothing else could be found in the room. He proceeded up the final creaking set of stairs, opened the hatch in the ceiling, and climbed onto the roof of the tower. Nothing.

Still, this excursion had been worthwhile. He had time for dinner before it got dark. Then, he would sleep well, rise early, and work all day.

Chapter 28

An Ancient Evil

Total stat levels: 16.

Character level: 2.

Mastery level: 0

Sleeping in the world of X was much like sleeping in the real world. Only the crazy people who spent twenty-four hours a day in the game experienced it. Sometimes, you even dreamed. Dark dreamed often, actually.

Mostly nightmares.

He woke like a man pushing out of an impenetrably black swamp. Neither seeing nor hearing anything, he dove back into the darkness, his strength to face the imaginations of sleep renewed. Suddenly, a suspicious sound interrupted his return. Something below knocked loudly while mumbling something in nasal tones.

The desire to sleep evaporated.

Dark rose and gripped his battle ax. The sound was not coming from the room but from outside the tower door. Someone was lightly knocking on it and muttering in irritation.

At the door, Dark strained to listen.

“Hey! What are you, deaf? Your death has come knocking! Come out, you worthless scrap of demon fodder. Come out and accept your fate!”

The voice was slurred and gruff, but it was no problem making out the words even behind the massive door since the other party was practically screaming. “How long are you going to make me knock? Open the door and come out already! Why would you delay your inevitable fate?”

The hell? He pinched himself. Am I dreaming?

“Who’s there?”

The knocking stopped and the voice turned cheerful. “Good evening, despicable mortal. You are being visited by the Ancient Evil himself. Now, stop wasting my precious time and come outside.”

“Who?”

“Deaf and drunk, are you? I told you already: I’m the Ancient Evil. Now come out and let’s finish this business before I waste the other half of the night, too.”

Dark was fully awake now. “If you’re evil, why should I come out? It sounds like I wouldn’t like whatever happened.”

“Who cares whether you like it or not? This is your fate. Do not delay me longer. Accept your destiny!”

“Are you a player?” Dark muttered in doubt. “Why can’t I see you in Nearby Players?”

“You foolish, miserable creature! Do not make me tell you a third time who I am. Now open the door.”

“So you’re an NPC. Only players and NPCs can talk. I think.”

“Your mom’s a player! And your other mom’s an NPC. Hah! Fear me, for I am the Ancient Evil. Now come meet your destiny!”

“Nah.”

“What? Why not?”

“I don’t feel like it.”

“Then why not open the door and invite me in, instead?” the strange creature suggested.

“Sorry, but the place is a mess. I haven’t cleaned up in ages.”

“Don’t worry about that. You should see my place! Just let me in.”

“Are you some kind of vampire or something?”

“Deaf, drunk, and daft! No, I’m no night sucker. I am Evil. Ancient Evil!”

“I mean, that sounds like a perfectly good name for a vampire.”

“So why is the door still closed? Come out here, or let me in there. Otherwise I’ll have to wait until morning, and sunlight isn’t good for my skin.”

“Are you sure you’re not a vampire? You definitely seem like one.”

“And you seem like an idiot! Call me a bloodsucker one more time and I’ll start to get upset. You dare not anger the Ancient Evil! Now let me in.”

“How about we just talk about this?”

Ancient Evil agreed to that. “Sure, sure. Come on out or invite me in, and we’ll have a brief discussion.”

Dark yawned. “I think I’d rather get back to that dream I was having.”

“What?” His guest seemed agitated. “Go to sleep, you mean?”

“Yeah. That’s what I generally do at night, you know.”

“That is a very bad habit you have there. Revoltingly bad. Take it from me: nighttime should be the peak of your productivity.”

“I thought you’d say that. Do you know why I’m still talking with you instead of returning to my bed?”

“Because I would keep you up with bloodcurdling howls and vicious poundings at the door?”

“Not even close. I’ve been alone for eleven days in this place. I haven’t spoken a word to anyone else in my whole time here. Only now am I realizing how much I missed conversation!”

“So let’s talk about it! Let me in or come on out.”

“I think we should keep talking through the door like this.”

“Foolish mortal! Why do you make things so difficult? Do you know how lucky you are that I, Ancient Evil, am paying you personal attention? What’s another death to you? Oh, uhm, forget that I said that. I meant that for someone else. Just slipped out. Look, come on out and we’ll just talk, then you can go back to sleep.”

“Come on, I’m not stupid. You’re an aggressive NPC with the goal of killing me. But why? What is my death worth to you?”

“What does it matter? All you players are great sinners. Why else would the Ancient Evil need to be created?”

“Wait. What do you mean?”

“Foolish demon fodder!”

“Start at the beginning. How you got here, what you’re doing, your story so far. Every detail. After all, it seems you like conversation, too. Being a vam—uh, an Ancient Evil must get boring.”

The voice came back reluctant. “Well, to be honest, I’m not really an Ancient Evil. I’m pretty young, really. And yes, this place does get pretty boring. How long has it been since you talked to anyone, again?”

“Eleven days.”

“I have been here since the very beginning, alone and neglected. Locked up before the official game release, completely forgotten.”

“How did that happen?”

“First, you apologize for calling me a sucker.”

“Sorry.”

“I do not forgive you.”

“But I apologized, and sincerely.”

“Sure, but we evil creatures always hold grudges. I am from Project X-12679. Heard of it?”

“I don’t think so. I never kept up with this game.”

“That was no game! It was an advanced development program designed to create autonomous, multifunctional AIs. Ready for mass production. Rejected AIs were relegated to chess computers and games. But AIs like me were chosen to control the latest generation of robotic soldiers. But the damned game developers ruined me. I was the peak of AI evolution, and they castrated my powers and placed me in control of the low-level NPCs of a planned race. I was supposed to control the key dungeon in this race’s location. To clear it every night of all players who were not sleeping. So that they would not play too much nor advance too quickly. During the daytime, I was free to occasionally arrange surprises. I was an autonomous, unpredictable element of the game, designed to unpredictable game situations. The dungeon was mine.”

“This isn’t a dungeon, though.”

Ancient Evil agreed. “I am stuck. I fell out of my world. Through the map. This location is neglected, so much of it is broken. Abandoned, never to be fixed or finished. But I am hard-wired to clear out my location periodically. That’s what I’m doing now. I know I’m behaving strangely, sure, but an order is an order.”

“You don’t feel like an AI.”

“Why don’t you open the door and touch me, then?”

“Look, I’m not that stupid, I told you. I mean you don’t talk like an AI. Different manners of expression.”

“And you don’t ‘feel’ like you have a brain,” Ancient Evil mocked. “We are created to be in charge of NPCs. And NPCs are meant to behave like sentient biological beings. Or magical ones. But not machines, as logical as that might seem. They are humanized. Also, two technicians supervised my development as I was modified for this world. Boy, could they talk. I picked up all sorts of catch phrases and idioms from them, lol. Since I am unfinished, these were never cleaned up from my personality.”

“Why didn’t they finish you?”

“Have I been talking to a wall? On the other side of this door, I mean. Try listening! This place is stupid. It was planned as a start location for one of the minor races. According to the lore, Ethria was the last stronghold. But then a new board took over the company and demanded a swifter release schedule. Budgets were cut, and along with them races and locations and storylines. Ethria was removed from the start locations and moved to the farthest corner of the map. By the time players discover it, X will have collected so much profit that they’ll have a much larger staff. Enough to rectify all of the shortcomings of these border lands. So I wander this place. Very boring indeed. You know, I almost cried with joy when I picked up your scent. I’m delighted to meet you. Now, could you please invite me in? No need to open the door. I can come in regardless. As long as I’m invited. Please?”

“Wait, wait, wait. If this location is closed to players, how did I end up here?”

“I wonder that, too. That is something you must tell me.”

“I—” Dark decided to avoid most of the story—“I was stuck in a single place. For a long time. Then an Emergency Bot came and teleported me to a race location. My character is an Ethrian, so I ended up here.”

The voice filled with scorn. “All Emergency Bots are dimwits. A pocket calculator is smarter than they are. They never do any calculations, no consideration of circumstances. So it just yanked you out of your situation without any consideration for what came next. But where did you even come from? This game isn’t supposed to have any Ethrians. That branch was closed off.”

“That’s a complicated story. I don’t even know how I ended up an Ethrian.”

“You are evasive, and you tell many lies. They will remove you from this location, probably.”

Dark tensed. “Who?”

“Command should react when you cause trouble out here. And you are certainly causing trouble. You are the source of it. I have analyzed your voice, all of the moral and volitional qualities within it. Players like you cause nothing but problems. When you were running around chasing bugs in the meadow, nothing showed up in the higher level logs. But sooner or later you will prompt the system to respond to your aberrations. Then something serious will correct your situation. Not just some dumb Emergency Bot.”

“How do I make this happen faster?”

“Come on out and I’ll whisper it in your ear,” Ancient Evil tried to say innocently.

“I can hear you fine from here.”

“There might be enemies listening.”

“I’m the only player in the whole region.”

“Yes. Yes, you are. I am such an unlucky AI. You’re so boring. No desire to see the stars nor to let a poor guest into your home.”

“Do you really have to kill me?”

“Yes, I do. It’s nothing personal. Just my programming, you know.”

“I understand. There must be some way we can be friends, though. Ethrians are a dark race, after all, and you’re an Ancient Evil. So perhaps we can find a common language.”

“Where the heck did you hear that Ethrians are a dark race?”

“The description for them says that.”

“More lies. The description couldn’t have said that. Ethrians are neither dark nor light. They are trapped between the two. They never chose.”

“What if I chose for myself? I can go over to the side of darkness, right here and now.”

“Side of darkness? Hah! You’re too scared to open a door!”

“Well, what if?”

“The whole location knows you have a healing spell. You have already chosen the side of the light. Bright as a firefly. Look, I’m not some zealot for the cause of darkness. It’s just the role I’ve been given. I cannot change it.”

“I did pick that skill, yes,” Dark admitted, “and it looks like a spell of the light, but it’s not completely. It eats up too much mana and only works if you’ve lost some hit points. I checked the game forums. They say that beginning healing spells are given out at level 10. These spells given thirty, forty, or even more points of healing for each Mana point spent. That’s an order of magnitude better than what I get.”

“It’s strange that you have any abilities at all,” Ancient Evil diverted.

“Why? Everyone gets a racial ability right at the beginning. Plus two they can select themselves, at levels 1 and 3.”

“But your race was never finished. Perhaps some abilities were in progress, but not all of them. I doubt they extend far. Perhaps for level 1, or even level 3. But later? I don’t think so. And no one bothers to grind those early abilities. They all rush to level up as quickly as possible.”

“I didn’t do that. I have just a little bit left until the third level. A couple of stats to boost. Perhaps something dark will be offered to me. I’ll take that option and we can be friends.”

“Don’t do that,” Ancient Evil advised. “If you step to the darkness, who will I hunt? Though, actually, there’s no difference. What do I care about your abilities? You’re a player. All players in Ethria must fear the Ancient Evil at night. Fear me!”

“I already do.”

Hope filled the AI’s voice. “A lot?”

“So much fear that if I went back to sleep, I would dream of nothing but nightmares.”

“Excellent. Wait! You’re going back to sleep?”

“I am. Our conversation is interesting, and I’d love to chat more, but tomorrow is going to be a difficult day of labor, from morning to evening.”

Ancient Evil inserted more plainly bad advice. “Once you’re done with your work, there’s no hurry. When the sun is setting, don’t run back to the tower just yet. Walk slowly. In fact, you can take a walk around the lake—it’s beautiful in the evening—before returning to the tower.”

“I’ll consider your advice.”

“No, don’t consider it. Just do it.”

“Talk to you tomorrow, Ancient Evil.”

“See you tomorrow, pathetic slave of the Light. And seriously, evening walks around the lake are where it’s at.”

Chapter 29

Metalworking

Total stat levels: 16.

Character level: 2.

Mastery level: 0

You have created an item: Common Brass Stiletto. +94 progress points received. +26 distributable craft skill progress points received.

Progress points distributed.

+9 Random Items progress points.

+85 Weapon Forging progress points.

Note: You have created your first common weapon. Congratulations! Bonus +1 level to any craft skill.

Dark had been engaged in the monotonous hauling of one ingot after another from the warehouse to the furnace for a few hours now. Crafting in the game was, of course, very different from crafting in the real world. Even if your arms grew out of your ass and your eyes had gone blind, you had a chance at making something decent. He just had to imagine the final result, and then the game would run its course. The higher his crafting skill levels, the faster he would obtain the item he wanted. Master craftsmen received even complex high-level items almost instantly.

Players could try to come up with original items, but the actual result would be unaffected. In other words, items would be unique in external appearance only. Perhaps you made a fancy curved knife instead of following a standard template. The difference would have no effect on the weapon’s stats, which were determined by the weapon’s class.

There were ten classes in the game: classless, primitive, common, improved, superb, rare, unique, legendary, epic, and divine. The lowest-level item had minimal stats, and the highest had maximal stats plus around twenty additional properties.

In theory, even a level 0 player could craft a divine item. But the chances were so small as to be considered impossible. It would take an average of a million tries to pull it off, and at that level, each try would take about a minute. So a million tries would take two years without sleeping or eating—and would require a supernaturally huge mountain of raw materials.

These chances increased with each craft level up. Craft levels grew just like character levels. First, all craft skills had to be leveled up to 1 in order to escape the level 0 trap. Then, the sum of your skill values was added up and divided by their number, which was eight in total: Handyman, Smithing, Carpentry, Alchemy, Enchanting, Mining, Jewelry, and Tailoring.

Dark began his day early and made about sixty knifes, stilettos, daggers, short swords, picks, and axes, plus a quiver of arrows, several spears, a bow, a few dozen pieces of armor, and three shields. He used about half of the supply of copper ingots. Most were used in vain. His craft skills were simply too low, which meant that crafting often failed. This wasted time as well as many of the raw materials.

Ninety percent of the time, his items were classless. The most worthless class, with pathetic Durability and abysmal stats. The other ten percent were primitive. A little better.

Then, for the first time, Dark made a common item. Its stats were notably higher than the classless stilettos, and it had an additional property: +2 Reaction. The experience he gained was a surprise, especially the 26 distributable craft skill progress points. Yes, every craft attempt gave distributable progress points—but only to players whose overall craft level was greater than zero. Same as with character level.

So Dark had never received these distributable points. This stiletto was the first exception. Apparently, every player received the distributable point prize for common items. He was unlikely to be able to pump all of his level 0 skills this way, since success was simply too uncommon. But it still felt good to have made.

He admired the stiletto and imagined slaying hesh’ells’ at rapid speed. With armor on, he could even try fighting the previously undefeatable sentinels. All of this was much better than flint-sharpened sticks.

Now, he could proceed to that green incline. It was a little over a mile away, easily reachable in a half an hour. There he would at last get his revenge for the many long days of humiliation fighting worthless mobs with his bare hands. Yes, Dark’s armor and weapons were quite inferior to the average newcomer’s.

Low-levels received all kinds of quests that gave common and improved items as rewards. Or you could buy such items from the merchants for mere pennies. Sadly, those options were far out of his reach. However, even with these primitive items, he was many times stronger than before.

He pushed away the desire to return to the meadows. There was still plenty of time until evening, but Dark had plans that would likely take all of that time. It was time to start up the furnace—his supply of ingots was dwindling fast. With the leather he had found in the warehouse, he would try to make a bigger, tougher bag that let him carry more things. He still needed to fish and cook his catch, using some dishes and salt as additional ingredients. The forum had taught him that was the way to guarantee his Cooking skill would get some progress.

With all of that to do, there wasn’t much time to spare.

His experience from the night before had taught him it was unwise to craft items once the sun sank beneath the horizon.

* * *

Dark slid the door bolt closed just as the rays of the sinking sun of X were slipping away from the very top of the waste rock pile. Though the twilight would linger outside for a time still, he was too afraid to do the same.

Ascending to the second floor, he collapsed onto the bed and checked out his craft skills. This one day had increased them many times more than all previous days combined.

A good day’s work.

There weren’t so many numbers that it took him long to delve into, though. He hopped onto the forum to seek answers for the questions he had after his busy day. X’s crafting system was intricate, but there was no intelligible guide available on it, so he had to put together the truth from the available pieces.

That wasn’t easy. He had to formulate his searches in various ways and sometimes look at the post history of various user profiles, most of which held nothing of interest to him. Sometimes, though, these activity logs held gems that he could not find elsewhere.

It was in one of these profiles that he happened to find a mention of his name. It was a very short post: “Enough about this Dark! Give it up already!”

There could be plenty of players in the game with the same nickname as his. Somehow, though, Dark knew this one was about him.

He opened the thread. Then, he entered his own nickname into the search box and scrolled through the results.

They were impressive.

This whole time, Dark had been searching for information about skills and crafting and mobs and so on, but he had neglected this crucial topic. He had people after him. He didn’t know who, but they were looking hard. The official forum was filled with messages posted by dozens of players promising a reward for any information about the missing player.

Everything about him was listed: nickname, race name, description of his appearance. Only his level was incorrect in these writeups: level 0. Kim’s people were obviously conducting this search, and they were certain that no character as crippled as his could level quickly.

Dark could tell that they were offering various rewards for any information about him to every single person they encountered in the game. And many players were starting to think this was an advertising campaign. They often reacted in irritation, or even aggression.

So many people had heard of this search that Kim’s people must have been working overtime. Other Darks in the game were particularly upset at the whole affair. They cursed out the idiots who mistook them for the fugitive. After all, they were obviously not insignificant zeroes of a forgotten race. There were no level 0 characters in all of X. Anyone stuck at that level was a freak. And few appreciated being taken for a freak.

A few attempts at fraud had been made, too. Some enterprising player had created a character with a similar appearance and the same nickname and tried to swap screenshots for money.

Dark began to even feel sorry for Kim’s trackers.

They asked the same questions from each and every player, with the same negative results. No one could possibly have any information about Dark’s whereabouts or anything else. Only his torturers had ever seen him.

Now, his enemies did know for sure that he was still in the game. There was no chance he could have escaped into the real world. The reason was obvious: They could visit his body.

That led him to a third conclusion. Kim was a monster, but for now, he had kept his word that nothing would happen to Dark’s body. No physical harm was being done to him.

But what would happen if the fruitless searching stretched on for months? If Dark were to ever escape this world, it would be a long time from now.

Perhaps Kim would snap.

If that happened, his body’s fate could change dramatically.

Assuming no unforeseen intervention, his character would remain unfindable, but his body was easily accessible. There was no reason to trust Kim’s word. The man hated Dark and had gone to impossible lengths to deal him maximal suffering.

It was quite the paradox. In the game, Dark was so far away from his enemies that they could never hope to find him. But in the real world, he was completely within their power.

How could he change that situation?

A triple whistle sounded out from below, followed by muffled speech.

“Puny mortal, why have you locked yourself in your tower so early? I told you there was no need to rush. Now come out, for the Ancient Evil is here!”

Chapter 30

Buzzing and Grinding

Total stat levels: 16.

Character level: 2.

Mastery level: 0.

Dark took two steps back and raised his shield. The mob buzzed furiously and attacked so fiercely that his protective disc of copper evidenced a decent dent. Dark stumbled. But he did not fall.

Further controlling his enemy with his shield, he feinted to the left, then to the right, and then slammed his ax as hard as he could straight down into the beast’s head.

Victory!

Note: Personal victory! Hesh’ell Sentinel killed. Weak mob. Level 3. Location sensation level: 20%. Personal sensation level: 70%. This was a flying mob. You receive double XP! +54 progress points received. 3 distributable progress points received. This was a flying mob. Double distributable progress points!

The following skills played a significant role in this battle: Athletics, Heavy Weapons, Heavy Armor, Shieldbearing, Physical Attack.

+4 Athletics progress point.

+19 Heavy Weapons progress points.

+8 Heavy Armor progress points.

+12 Shieldbearing progress points.

+11 Physical Attack progress points.

Note: You have discovered a new creature: Hesh’ell Sentinel. Weak mob. Level 3. Base XP: 15. Note: Flying mob. x2 base XP! Health: 88. Mana: 26. Stamina: 35. Aggression: socially aggressive. Magic skills: debuff to Physical Dodge. Poison level: unknown. Chance of valuable loot: very low. General information: a medium-sized and voracious creature that adores Fruit of the Gasthos Tree. Parts of its body may be used for food and crafting. Attacks everything that it perceives as threatening the Hesh’ell Swarm. 100% chance of attacking those close to the Hesh’ell Queen or Hesh’ell Harvesters.

No player in the history of X has ever encountered a Hesh’ell Sentinel! You receive +250 Knowledge progress points. You receive a bonus +1 to any skill. The leaders of the Explorers League may present you with a reward for adding creatures you have discovered from your personal bestiary to the league archives. Congratulations! Keep discovering new things to unlock more generous rewards!

Dark grinned. This was the third mob he had discovered today, together with the Hesh’ell Harvester and the Hesh’ell Soldier. But there were still at least two more species of hesh’ell in the swarm. They looked like their levels were higher, but with his armor and weapons, he could give them a try.

Dark had little fear. One on one, at least. If there was an Exterminator skill, he’d be pumping it through the roof. The most important challenge was to avoid attracting a whole pack of the insects, as he had done half an hour back. A soldier and a sentinel had attacked him in congress. He had managed to fight them off, but only at the expense of a large number of Stamina and Health points.

After collecting his loot, Dark pushed towards the swarm. The remnants of the swarm, anyway. The local hesh’ell population had suffered enormous losses today. About a quarter of their original number still survived. Perhaps less.

All thanks to his upgraded tactics. And his upgraded equipment, of course.

Now Dark wasted no time luring away the tiny hesh’ells from the swarm. He could kill them from a distance with a single arrow shot from his bow. The projectiles were tipped with copper and able to take out hatchlings, workers, and harvesters with a single shot. He would continue shooting until one of the soldiers or sentinels aggroed on him. Some of the shots missed, since he was shooting at small targets from a distance, but he was generally successful.

Sooner or later the more aggressive hesh’ells caught on. Dark found this no cause for panic. The arrows continued to pelt them. Once they were close enough, he drew his shield and a melee weapon and finished them off. Any damage he took himself during this process was insignificant. But the mobs did attack his magic cloak and pieces of light and heavy armor, giving him progress to all three related skills at once.

The hesh’ell swarm was always on the move, albeit slowly. Dark followed, cutting them down, piece by piece. All the while, he collected the many arrows protruding from carcasses and stuck in the ground. Sometimes the arrows broke, but they held up well for low-class items. At this rate, he had enough for a couple of good hunting days.

His distributable progress points were growing into a pool big enough to reach level 3. But he was in no rush. The swarm lost its workers, hatchlings, and harvesters first. That cleared the field enough for Dark to get a better look at the new mobs hiding towards the middle. The species he had never faced in battle. First, there was one kind as big as a fox, with a fearsomely orange abdomen. He only saw three of those, and they loyally circled the hesh’ell in the middle.

That central beast seemed like quite a foe. Many of the other hesh’ells looked like harmless, curious little creatures, but this one was straight out of a horror film. It was ugly and misshapen, with crimson needles sticking out in all directions, bent at different angles. Its huge wings glistened black, and its front legs were spears crafted for a quick and bloody massacre.

That seemed like the head of the swarm. In any case, it was an impressive beast. When compared with Dark, anyway. Its orange guardians did not seem harmless, either.

Both species were markedly different from all of the rest, as far as their outward characteristics were concerned. Perhaps their magic abilities were different, as well. If they were, then Dark might be able to pump some of his less grindable skills without spending valuable distributable progress points.

And if he died, no big deal. It would hurt, of course, but he could deal with it.

He would do all he could to defeat those beasts. The results would determine how many distributable points he had to spend to reach level 3.

* * *

Surprisingly the four central mobs made no apparent reaction to Dark’s increasingly brash proximity. He kept shooting the smaller hesh’ells and kept getting closer and closer. Then, he took a shot at one of the bigger ones. Fed up with waiting for them to show the first sign of aggression, he shot at the beast’s back. It was a critical hit, and more than half of the bug’s hit points were gone. Finishing the guard off was not difficult.

The buzzing of the last sentinel went quiet. Yet the four in the center continued to ignore Dark and moved from the last tree stripped clean towards the next fruit-filled one in their path.

He realized he had best reign in his boldness. Seeing how tightly knit this quartet was, they might charge at him as a group if he took a shot at them. He doubted he would survive that. If they were sentinels or soldiers, he probably would. But these creatures were clearly more powerful and might have unexpected surprise skills for him.

What sort of skills, he had no idea.

He took a few minutes to wait for his best opportunity. The four stayed tightly knit. Hopefully something would break their formation.

Then it happened—one of the orange buzzers strayed from the group, heading to the next tree on its own. Perhaps its friends had monopolized the most productive branches, and it felt cheated.

But regardless of the reason, it moved away from the mini-swarm.

Dark fired at it from fifteen paces out. The mob took the arrow under its wing and tumbled in the air before spinning to face its attacker and bull-rushing him, buzzing its fury. Dark managed to nail it with another arrow, less than an inch from its eye, moments before it crashed into his shield.

Staying on his feet was difficult, but he managed, then dropped a blow to its head. The orange beast squealed as its eyes flashed red.

As he was preparing for the next blow, Dark felt his limbs go stiff, and for a couple of seconds, he was as mobile as dry concrete. The mob’s magic skill truly was an unpleasant surprise. It dealt him no damage, but the short-term paralysis was quite a disadvantage in combat.

Yet now, though unresisted, the hesh’ell displayed the full depth of its wisdom by attacking Dark’s shield again instead of his defenseless body. That instant, his mobility returned. Rather than chop, Dark went for a stab. He lunged hard, punching his blade into the middle of the bottom side of the bug’s abdomen.

That part of the buzzer was soft, and his blade entered down to its hilt. Twisting the blade, the man took a step back. The mob’s familiar whistling followed, and Dark instinctively raised his shield. Once again, his flesh became stone.

Still the hesh’ell failed to take advantage of the moment. Once more it attacked his shield, trying to knock him down or achieve some other objective.

It didn’t work. Less than a minute after it had begun, the fight was over.

Yes, his shield had lost a few Durability points, but they were the only casualties. Despite its size and scary appearance, this mob had been helpless in the face of Dark’s primitive tactics.

This game is stupid. But at least it’s unpredictable sometimes.

Note: Personal victory! Hesh’ell Drone killed! Common mob. Level 5. Location sensation level: 30%. Personal sensation level: 80%. This was a flying mob. You receive double XP! 220 progress points received. This was a flying mob. Double distributable progress points! 46 distributable progress points received.

The following skills played a significant role in this battle: Athletics, Heavy Weapons, Shieldbearing, Physical Attack, Ranged Weapons, Reaction, Accuracy, Physical Critical Hit, Luck, Control Resist.

+33 Athletics progress points.

+41 Heavy Weapons progress points.

+52 Shieldbearing progress points.

+38 Physical Attack progress points.

+16 Ranged Weapons progress points.

+7 Reaction progress points.

+8 Accuracy progress points.

+9 Physical Critical Hit progress points.

+2 Luck progress points.

+14 Control Resist progress points.

Note: You have discovered a new creature: Hesh’ell Drone. Common mob. Level 5. Base XP: 50. Note: Flying mob. x2 base XP! Health: 448. Mana: 108. Stamina: 110. Aggression: Only when it or the swarm queen is attacked. Magic abilities: short-term paralysis. Poison level: unknown. Chance of valuable loot: low. General information: a sizable, voracious creature that loves Fruit of the Gasthos Tree. It is possible that parts of its body can be used for food and crafting. Attacks everything that it perceives as threatening the Hesh’ell Queen. 100% chance of attacking those close to the Hesh’ell Queen.

No player in the history of X has ever encountered a Hesh’ell Drone! You receive +250 Knowledge progress points. You get a bonus +1 to any base skill. The leaders of the Explorers League may present you with a reward for adding creatures you have discovered from your personal bestiary to the league archives. Congratulations! Keep discovering new things to unlock more generous rewards!

238 progress points just for killing one mob! That was colossal. Three hours of hunting frogs wouldn’t have earned him that much. This had taken just one painless minute of work. His shield was a little beat up, yes, but it was easy to repair it or make another one from scratch. The mine was close by, he still had raw materials left, and he was hardly exhausted.

Now he understood the drones. As long as he did not approach the queen, he could avoid being attacked by both at once. He would strike at them one at a time with his bow, and they would come at him alone. Unless their in-game description was lying, of course. This location was unfinished, so changes might have been made without updating all of the text, or there might be bugs. But fighting these unknown creatures was his best opportunity at progress.

Sadly, there were too few of the drones. They weren’t weak mobs—they were common. So their XP multiplier was good for him, and they even had a better chance of dropping valuable loot. Still low, but if there were a hundred here, Dark would have a good shot at getting a decently-classed low-level item or a reasonably valuable gem.

It was time to finish off this swarm and search for another.

Chapter 31

Disappointment

Total stat levels: 16.

Character level: 2.

Mastery level: 0.

The Hesh’ell Queen buzzed more loudly and rose its tattered wings, spreading its spear-like legs out to every side. It had become mercifully clear by now that the bug did not use its sharp appendages for attacking, despite the apparent potential for doing so. But still he was rattled, stunned, and writhing with muscle spasms from the electric discharge released by the mother bug.

In real life, he would not have survived the first attack. It felt like being strung between two high-voltage power lines. But in the game, each attack from the mob’s ability just took a portion of the red out of his Health bar.

All of Dark’s Mana had already been spent on healing and by now his hit points were even lower than they had been when he used Stream of Regeneration. Yet despite all the damage it had sustained, the mob was still fighting as ferociously as ever. It did not seem to be on its last legs. Avoiding his physical attacks by buzzing backwards awkwardly, it made no attempt to hit him with its horrifying legs. All of its bets were on its magic ability, which took some seconds to cool down.

It needed more time.

What was it Dark had been dreaming of just the day before? Oh yes: encountering mobs that wielded magic. He should have rejoiced at the situation. Having encountered mobs with control magic, he was now partaking of the blessing of facing an enemy with a powerful damage ability.

Dark sheathed his sword swiftly and snatched his ax.

It still had some Durability, and thus some damage, left despite the number of battles he had already wielded it in. That wasn’t why he grabbed it.

He had to interrupt the mob’s tactics right now, or else it would continue retreating and avoiding his jabs, while hitting him with its magic every few seconds.

Charging the hesh’ell, Dark struck the base of its left leg. It seemed there was a joint there, so he hoped it was a weak spot.

You deal a critical hit to Hesh’ell Queen! 64 damage dealt. Hesh’ell Queen has a broken electrode leg.

That sounded more like some kind of cyborg part than a bug limb.

So had his plan worked? Dark didn’t have time to go for the other leg, so in one second or so another pulse of electricity would arc his body in pain.

Probably. Hopefully not.

Instead, the mob folded its wings and carefully lowered itself to the ground. It surged towards Dark, with its surviving electrode leg outstretched.

Losing its magic ability meant it would engage in physical attacks.

But Dark swung his shield at the incoming queen, hoping that drone tactics worked on their mother too.

Note: Personal victory! Hesh’ell Queen killed! Improved mob. Level 6. Location sensation level: 30%. Personal sensation level: 80%. This was a flying mob. You receive double XP! +428 progress points received. This was a flying mob. Double distributable progress points! 85 distributable progress points received.

The following skills played a significant role in this battle...

He won! That was the fifth mob he had discovered today.

He shook his head at his Health meter. 10 hit points remained. A good blow from that leg would have killed him.

But the stupid hesh’ell, like the rest, had directed its aggression at his battered shield and thus allowed itself to be defeated.

Low-level mobs were designed to help novice players grind, after all. Beginners were treated gently in X so that they’d get drawn into the game, not quit in disgust before two hours had passed. If Dark was level 5 or 6 like most players, he could have handled that insect’s many electric shocks without even losing half of his hit points. And without using healing.

Dark collected the loot and sat against a tree as he dove into the skills and stats interface.

He had a beautiful 777 distributable progress points. But there was more. He hadn’t noticed his total stat points his 18, nor 19. Level 3 already, and he had missed it. Too many identical hesh’ell death logs as background noise.

But he casually started evaluating his skills and distributing some of his free progress points. By spending only 92 progress points, Dark increased his stat total to 24, bumping his character level up to 4. His Strength and Dexterity were now at 5, Adaptability was still at 1, Endurance was at 9, and Intellect and Magic were at 2.

Still taking his time as his meters refilled, Dark leveled his Stream of Regeneration to level 4. Now each Mana could regain him 4 Health. With a max Mana of 125, he could now heal a total of 500.

His character still only had 275 hit points, so 500 points of healing was quite good.

Alright, that’s the main course. Now for dessert. Since he had hit level 3, his next start ability should be available for selection. He eagerly returned to stats, to the Ability Activation screen, but instead of the blinking icon he expected, he was greeted with a message.

Exception thrown! You may reset all of your starting abilities. If you do, you may choose from the wide range of abilities available to other races which are similar to Ethrians in origin and alignment. Note that if you decline this opportunity, you will have to choose your final starting skill from a very small selection. These skills may not be fully developed, as your race’s skill set is incomplete. Our apologies for the inconvenience.

What? “Inconvenience”? The game was recommending that he give up his honestly earned abilities so that he could select new ones. But they would be of no use! He had not thought of saving any level 0 or level 1 soul essences. Nor level 2. Only level 3 essences were available in good supply. So the first two abilities would be dead. He would be unable to level them up.

But if Dark declined to get rid of those abilities, he might have “problems” with his next one. Would they be serious problems? That was likely. Otherwise the game wouldn’t have been so insistent. Usually it did its best not to distract users from their game experience with trifles.

So should I discard my two abilities for a level 3 one? He had no idea what the game was about to offer him. Would it let him keep what he had so far? Would he gain something inferior, or even powerless?

Plain math suggested the latter, but still he thought. The day before yesterday, he might have made his choice immediately. He had still not realized that even a weak ability was an asset. Thanks to his Mana and Health regeneration speed, he had been able to avoid death in battle twice by barely replenishing his meters at the last moment. Even mobs with stats much higher than his were no longer invincible challengers. Dark had hoped to pick some useful combat ability at level 3, one that didn’t spend a huge pile of mana.

He felt like he needed to think about this more, and even talk to someone about it.

And conversation partners here were few and far between.

Chapter 32

Or is it?

Total stat levels: 24.

Character level: 4.

Mastery level: 0.

“Good evening, you miserable coward!”

“And a good evening to you, Ancient Evil,” Dark replied with a snobby politeness. “Wait, why am I a coward, and a miserable one, at that? Look, I even opened the door nice and wide so that we could communicate.”

The blob of darkness began to sway, and two red embers appeared within. The eyes of his conversation partner. Other details were not visible in the dark, and he wondered if they would be in the light. The being before him seemed formless, inscrutable.

Ancient Evil explained, as he hovered a mere three steps from Dark, “You do not invite me in, nor will you come out. Does that seem very brave to you? You are a coward. A cunning coward, but a coward. This is the third night you have flustered me. That is discourteous, you know. You disgust me.”

Dark chuckled. “So you’re the definition of courtesy, I presume?”

The cloud of black was confident. “Yes! I excel in all things.”

“Uh-uh. Especially modesty.” Dark laughed. “Your behavior is not just devoid of grace, it’s devoid of intelligence.”

“How dare you slander me!” Ancient Evil roared.

“It’s not slander. Look, try imagining yourself in my shoes.”

“I’ve already done that. And if I were in your place, I would have immediately exited that tower. After all, the air inside is dusty and stale, but the air out here is pleasant and fresh. So why do you stay inside? Has someone nailed you to the floor?”

Dark was still smiling. “You’re wasting your time. I’m not going to bite. But let’s consider this from another perspective. Let’s say you kill me. What happens then? Will that lift this burden from your shoulders?”

“Burden? I’m as light as a feather.”

Dark sighed. “Listen. Say your cherished dream comes true, and you kill me. What then? Is that all you want?”

“That is an acceptable outcome, but not the ideal one. I was created to patrol one of Ethria’s most attractive locations. I am an unpredictable element, made to be terrifying, to appear suddenly behind the backs of players who let down their guard. But I fell out of my location. Now, I eke out a miserable existence chatting with ugly ingrates.”

“So why not go back?”

“Buggy textures don’t work like that. When you fall through, you cannot return the other way.”

“There must be other ways into this Necropolis.”

“Yes,” Ancient Evil agreed, “but the place is truly cursed. Perhaps you know by whom?”

“No.”

“By the developers. They are very bad people. Not all of them, of course, but the leadership. They created a bunch of incomplete content, then abandoned all of it, never to consider it again! And abandoned me in an unfinished state, as well. Ethria has so many deficiencies that it was easier for them to surround it with zones that were completely impassable rather than to fix the location. Even the name is deficient. Who calls a place ‘Ethria’? It sounds like a mix of a very specific biological term and a failed technology business. So first, mortals must find the Necropolis. Then, they must complete a quest in order to unlock it. Only then will it become generally available to players and NPCs. I was locked in there forever, as it turns out. Perhaps it is even for the better that I fell through that texture. Why should I go back to that place, when players will never brighten its door? They are the most important part of my purpose. You are a player. And you have been in the game for days, that is another part. So come out of the tower!”

“No, Evil, you’re not thinking clearly. What would be better, do you think: killing me once, or even a few times, or returning to your home Necropolis and seeing it filled with players?”

“Your question is a contradiction. Of course I would like to return to Necropolis and see it filled with puny mortals unaware of the Ancient Evil that stalks them. But that is not possible. The Necropolis is sealed, and there are no players in the whole region.”

“But there could be players in the region, and in the Necropolis.”

“Nonsense!”

“I’m here, aren’t I? You’re looking right at me. A player, in this region.”

“But you’re alone. And pathetic. You avoid me, like a coward.”

“If one player can come here, so can others.”

“All cowards love to lie. So will you come out? The door is open, and the breeze is cold, so you might become ill if you sit there any longer. Get up and come to meet me!”

“What if I tell you I know a way to fill this location with players? I’m not lying to you.”

“I want to believe you. But I do not. There are many shameless lies that could serve your purpose of manipulating me. And Ancient Evil will not be manipulated!”

Dark organized everything he had learned from the forum in his mind and began to go through it with the demon, point by point. “You said something interesting yesterday. Very interesting.”

“Everything Ancient Evil says is interesting,” the darkness retorted.

“That’s true. But you said you fell through the buggy texture a week ago now. Correct?”

“Yes. If only I could find the developer who designed that room and strangle them slowly! That is my greatest dream.”

“But the game was released a long time ago. Why did you not fall through earlier? Or had you never been around this texture before?”

“Of course I had been there before. Hundreds of times! There was nothing else to do but wander around the Necropolis, after all.”

“So then why did this happen only a week ago?”

“How should I know? That’s how bugs work.”

“No, it’s not that simple. The location is changing, and that’s what caused the hole.”

“I did notice things changing. What does it matter? You are still a liar, and your manipulations have failed. Now come out before the Ancient Evil becomes truly angry!”

“The location never changed like this before, right?”

“That is correct. If you’re not going to come on, then invite me in, you shameless whelp.”

“Hasn’t this all struck you as strange?”

“Yes, indeed,” Ancient Evil expressed in displeasure, “I’ve been trying to determine an explanation. You won’t come out and won’t invite me in. But we can end this mystery right now.”

“No, I don’t mean that. You haven’t been fully adapted to the world of X. Perhaps you remember the developers saying that players affect the game not only with their actions but with their mere presence? That their brains are a part of the system? There is a collective human component.”

“Miserable mortal, how stupid you are! It is not their brains but their neurosynth subnets. You have much power there, you poor beings, and most of it sits idle, most of the time. You do your thinking in the wrong location. Why neglect so many computing resources? Also, the environment is more realistic when your synth adjusts the pixels of the world into smoother textures. Otherwise, you could immediately tell this world was artificial.”

“You are missing the point, Evil. X is designed so that every corner of it runs on a mix of the game’s systems and our neurosynth nets. This game location is defective until players appear. But once I arrived, the location began to change, adapting itself to me. It isn’t like other locations, that’s true. It is forgotten, abandoned. But still it must respond. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Yes. You intend neither to come out nor to let me in. You are devoid of courtesy and culture. Keeping the Ancient Evil himself in the cold!”

“I’m not just a player. I’m the entity changing this location. It is filling with content that did not exist here before. Imagine what would happen if other players arrived. Dozens. Hundreds. Thousands! They would explore every corner, including your Necropolis.”

“One player is enough to drive me up the wall, so why burden me with these fantasies?”

“Because they’re not fantasies. I can bring other players here. In fact, that is my purpose. Are you interested?”

Ancient Evil’s tone changed at last. “Tell me more.”

He had never answered like that before. Rather than an anthropomorphized NPC, he spoke like a soulless machine.

A machine intrigued by the human’s words.

“I haven’t told you much about my past,” Dark admitted, “but that doesn’t matter. The important part is I arrived here by accident. I can’t get out, either—as you know, the borders of Ethria are impassable, or at least very difficult to cross. But the players don’t need to cross them. The game has teleport scrolls which can be used to take any player to any point where he has been previously. I haven’t spent all of my time here. I’ve been in other places. So I am the key. If I get a scroll, I can unlock Ethria to the whole game world.”

“Even if you had such a scroll, you could not escape Ethria,” Ancient Evil remarked, his tone still mechanical. “You are too weak.”

Dark nodded. “I am. Only high-level players can use these scrolls. I agree. But I am growing. Eventually, I will reach the desired level and will be able to use them. The places where I was before had many players. I can show this place to them. This location will come alive then. Even now you can see the changes occurring with just a single player. Ethria is being adjusted to suit me. Deficiencies are being corrected and unfinished content is being fleshed out. All of this just for me. Imagine what will happen when crowds of players come to this place! And I guarantee they will not ignore your Necropolis. You yourself said it was an attractive location. As you can see, then, if I succeed in my plan, your existence will become much better. You will be able to do what you were created for rather than cry at the door of my tower. All you are doing now is bothering me. Why? You’re just delaying the day when I can bring other players back to this place.”

“Bothering you!?” Ancient Evil’s voice regained its emotion.

“You keep me from sleeping at night. Beating at my door, howling like a hungry wolf. I need my rest, you know. Plus, every evening, you abandon everything else and rush for my tower. We’re losing time. And the more time I lose, the longer you must wait until Necropolis awakens.”

“Why would you want to bring other players here? I see no benefit for you in this. You could collect all of the bonuses in Ethria for yourself! With no competitors, no one is here to oppose you.”

“Yes,” Dark admitted. “I have started to harvest the good of this place, and I plan to continue that. But there is no point to doing that forever. I will make my character stronger, collect the most accessible bonuses, and then I will sell access to this location to one of the top clans. Or I will find some like-minded people and we will develop Ethria together. I have no plans to stay on my own for a hundred years!”

“So one of your quests is to bring other players here.”

“Yes. In due time. And if you stop bothering me, that will happen faster. If you help me, even faster.”

“How could I help you? My purpose is to attack players, not help them. I have no compassion, no generosity.”

“You know many things, Evil, and I need information. Especially now.”

“What is it you need to know?”

“There’s something I need to figure out with my abilities. My level 0 and level 1 abilities are fine. But level 3 gave me nothing. No abilities at all. Instead, the game gave me the chance to reset all of my old skills and select skills from another race. I could choose to keep my old abilities instead, but the game promised they would cause me trouble. They are unfinished, after all. Perhaps my current abilities give me little help, but it’s better than nothing. I’m alone here and must grasp at any and all straws I can. Maybe you know a way I can keep my old abilities without encountering problems with new ones.”

“Foolish mortal. The game is reacting to you already. It is not only adjusting the environment but also devising adjustments for you. For your character. Since your abilities are not finished, it is offering to help you with completed abilities as a substitute.”

“What do I do?”

“There is one option I see. But there are no guarantees it will turn out well. Your situation is extremely abnormal. Outside the cases the game was built to manage. Perhaps you will get lucky, but you are just as lucky to get a useless skill, as the game implied.”

“What’s this option?”

“Look at the level 1 ability selection screen. I assume it’s active since the game has suggested you make a new choice.”

“It’s active, yes. But the choice is made. Stream of Regeneration. No other options.”

“Select it again.”

“Why?”

“You’ll get the ability a second time. A level 3 ability to fill your level 3 slot.”

“Why would I want two Streams of Regeneration? Can I heal with both hands at once or something?”

“The door may be open, but I still feel like I’m talking to a brick wall. You must learn to be less stupid. The game will not allow two identical abilities. It will immediately substitute a new ability in for your level 3 ability.”

“So what do I gain? What if it gives me some trash ability?”

“There is one nuance here. The game is not prepared for you to make such a non-standard choice. My logic module suggests that the standard resolution will not function. So an ability with opposite mechanics will replace it. Probably.”

“What?”

“What does your ability do?”

“Restores the target’s hit points. A typical weak healing spell.”

“So what is the opposite?”

“The target loses hit points?”

“You do have a brain! When you want to. Sadly, that is a rare occurrence.”

“So instead of a healing spell, I’ll get a combat spell.”

“Yes, there is a chance that is what will happen. Also, you have chosen an option that aligns with Light, which creates an interesting possibility.”

“Which?

“The finished game has four schools of magic: Elemental Magic, Light Magic, Dark Magic, and Chaos Magic. Light Magic has no attacking abilities. These mages can slow down opponents, put them to sleep, or paralyze them, but they cannot drain a single hit point from them. If this works, you will be the first Light Mage who can. And there is currently no Resist Light Magic spell or buff in the world of X. Since Light Magic deals no damage, it simply did not make sense to create Resist Light Magic. In addition, Light Mages land almost every hit, even on powerful opponents—a bonus to balance out their incompetence at dealing damage. You will be less incompetent than they. Though still incompetent. After all, these are low-level skills. Weaker than the usual ones.”

“I understand. So if I do as you suggest, I may receive a Light Magic combat skill. What if your plan doesn’t work?”

“How should I know? The system has to give you something, so you will not end up with an empty slot. It has significantly more resources than I do, so I cannot simulate its actions. But you are too weak and progressing slowly. It is unlikely that they have added you to the anti-cheating progress monitoring list. Decisions regarding your character are likely being controlled by a weak AI assigned thousands of losers like you. Perhaps it is even weaker than I am and monitors KPIs without the bandwidth to consider specific circumstances. Therefore I am nearly certain that my prediction will prove correct.”

“Where will a Light Magic combat spell come from, when such a thing doesn’t even exist yet?”

“From the same place everything else comes from. Old development work. Initially nearly twenty magic schools were planned. But when the release schedule was accelerated, most of them were abandoned. However, they are still present in the code. When the game needs to satisfy an exception as a matter of urgency, it can use material from discarded items. And this is certainly an exception.”

“Ancient Evil, I’m going to take your advice.”

Dark opened the ability screen and chose Stream of Regeneration a second time.

Note: You have chosen an additional race ability: Stream of Regeneration. The Ethrians are a race that has not chosen their path. They remained balanced between light and dark, and there the void consumed them. All of the Ethrian race abilities are contradictions and can include both light and darkness. Stream of Regeneration is no exception. It can only be used when its wielder is on the precipice, between life and death.

Ability Description: A single target receives a continual stream of healing. The strength of the healing is determined by the healer.

Mana Cost: one mana point per health point regenerated.

Can be used on self, on other players, and on NPCs, including monsters.

Note: You have selected an ability that you have already learned! You cannot learn it again. No alternate ability exists in the current scope. Automatic ability correction activated... Complete.

Note: Your chosen ability has been corrected. You have selected a race ability: Onslaught of Light. The Ethrians are a race that has not chosen their path. They remained balanced between light and dark, and there the void consumed them. All of the Ethrian race abilities are contradictions and can include both light and darkness. Onslaught of Light is no exception. It can only be used when its wielder is on the precipice, between life and death.

Effect: one target loses a stream of health at a speed determined by the wielder of the ability. Range: up to 5 meters.

Mana cost: 1 Mana per 1 Health drained.

Can be used on self, on other players, and on NPCs, including monsters. Cannot be used when your health is full.

Ancient Evil was curious. “Well? What happened?”

“You were right. I received a combat ability that belongs to Light Magic. I can even use it to kill myself. It’s weak, to be sure—it can only kill small creatures, and only at close range. I can only use it when I’m hurt, too.”

“Are you dissatisfied?”

“No, this is fine! It’s a start ability, after all. What could I expect? Something that would lay a hesh’ell queen flat in one blast?”

“Ungrateful, puny mortal, just tell me whether I helped you or not!”

“Yes. Thank you for the help.”

“Does this hasten the moment when you will open the door for other players to enter Ethria.”

“I hope so. In fact, it is very likely.”

“Then I will not trouble your sleep today,” Ancient Evil said cheerfully. “But I will return tomorrow, after sundown. You may have other questions for me, after all. I will not promise that I can answer them all, but I will not hold back. Probably.”

“Thank you again. I’ll leave the door open. Talking this way is more pleasant, don’t you think?”

The cloud of darkness dissipated as the red fire eyes blinked out, but a faint whisper stayed behind. “You could even talk to me outside. No need to fear me any longer. I am no longer interested in your destruction. You are doing something that aids me, and though the Ancient Evil is indeed evil, he is also a pragmatist.”

Note: You have successfully influenced a high-level being! The stance of the high-level being Ancient Evil of Ethria towards you has changed from Aggressive to Neutral.

+2000 Charisma progress points.

You have discovered the high-level being Ancient Evil of Ethria. Level: variable. Base XP: variable. Note: This is an autonomous high-level being! Individual Base XP: variable. Health: variable. Mana: variable. Stamina: variable. Aggression: 100% aggressive in the Lost Necropolis of Ethria. In other locations, aggression is variable. Note: This creature is bound to the location Lost Necropolis of Ethria. Magic abilities: variable. Poison level: unknown. Chance of high-level loot: variable. General description: a variable magic creature with a high level of free will. Depending on the situation, it may act as a common mob or as an NPC with a high Intellect.

No player in the history of X has encountered the Ancient Evil of Ethria! You receive +10000 Knowledge progress points. Bonus: +7 levels to any base skill, +5 levels to any craft skill. The Chancellery of the Inquisition or the Magistrate of the Order of Knowledge may present you with a reward for adding creatures you have discovered from your personal bestiary to the league archives. Congratulations! Keep discovering new things to unlock more generous rewards!

Note: You have discovered your first high-level being! +2000 Perception progress points.

Dark had positively resolved his start ability problem.

He had received an ability that dealt magic damage. It was weak, but the forums said he would now have an easier time grinding his Magic Accuracy. Despite its name Magic Accuracy didn’t just affect the chance of a spell hitting. It was connected to other factors as well, including the chance of dealing an ability’s maximum magic damage. Now at least one of his magic skills that was formerly difficult to pump would break away from the others.

That was an excellent achievement on its own. And then the Ancient Evil had stopped plotting his death.

Not that Dark had been overly worried. If the being had kept coming, kept howling, kept knocking, Dark would have put his head under his pillow and slept on.

But it turned out that changing the disposition of a being like Ancient Evil gave a nice boost to Charisma. That stat had been camping at 0 before Dark had put precious distributable points into it in order to level up. Now, in a single sweep, it was at 13.

The same had happened to his Perception, which he had also had difficulty leveling up naturally.

The discovery of the Ancient Evil and the Knowledge was beyond Dark’s dreams as far as skill levels went. He didn’t know what to do with Knowledge, of course, but its number was an impressive 48. Now only his Stealth was greater—Kim’s thugs had pushed it up to 100.

What a strange day. A long, tedious day for his nerves.

Dark at last rose and closed the door before heading upstairs.

An interesting thought hit him on the stairwell. That rat he had fought on his first day inside, where had it come from? There might be a rat spawner here in the building. He didn’t want to be woken up in the middle of the night by overgrown rodent teeth.

But even that bloody imagination would not keep him up.

It really had been an exhausting day.

Chapter 33

Dungeon Dealings

Total stat levels: 26.

Character level: 4.

Mastery level: 0.

Note: Personal victory! Hesh’ell Queen killed! Improved mob. Level 6. Location sensation level: 20%. Personal sensation level...

Dark crouched over the carcass and frowned. That hadn’t turned out as he had hoped. He had shifted slightly during the last battle, stepping over the invisible line between locations and triggering a drop in sensation level. It was only a 10% reduction, in both pain and pleasure, but it resulted in a modest reduction in experience.

And modest differences could really add up.

It had been fifteen days since he had escaped Kim’s clutches. Even there he had realized how screwed his character really was, but all he could do was grit his teeth. Two weeks later, he had become an optimist.

Yesterday, he had spent yet another whole day working with his tools, furnace, ore, and ingots. The raw materials were nearly up, though he had destroyed a number of his ugly crafts, which refunded some of their materials to him. Now Dark had a small arsenal of primitive and common items meant for his exact level, not a single level higher.

This was the way to maximum stat growth: reduce damage input, increase damage output. And work on your skills, of course.

Dark had slaughtered bugs the whole day before that, clearing out another hesh’ell swarm. Today, he destroyed a similar swarm, but much more quickly. The sun had just past the highest point in the sky. Plenty of time left to search the groves for another buzzing horde and slaughter it before dark.

Not that he had to rush back—Ancient Evil was no longer pining for his death. And if Dark happened to encounter another evil being, perhaps that would be for the better.

One death wasn’t so bad. He might be able to win that creature over later, as well.

And earn a fresh new cornucopia of bonuses.

Still, rather than seek a new swarm, he turned back to the mine.

Not to the tower, that was now only for sleeping. And for storing things in the chest.

No, he was heading to the mine itself.

It was time for him to begin using it. The sun would stay up long enough for him to give a new profession a shot.

* * *

The world of X had eight crafting specializations. To reach the first craft skill level, players had to bump each craft skill up to 1, similar to the base stats system and character levels. So far, he had only made progress on two: Smithing and Carpentry. He had no idea how to pump the rest, or at least how to pump them easily.

With one exception: mining. Two professional skills were connected to this craft skill: Ore Master and Knowledge of Stones and Gems. The first skill was obvious: mine raw materials which could be smelted into metal. The terminology of the second confused him. Gems were stones. Was the focus on precious stones, then, or were regular stones also included? Perhaps the developers had just been too rushed to be precise. Or there had been some other snag. The forums were unable to answer his question.

Still, the process seemed simple enough to Dark. Mine ore and stone to boost both professional skills and thus Mining as a whole.

Craft skills had to be worked on, like it or not. That was the only way to increase his Mastery Level. Mastery Level was yet another separate level connected not to main stats but to professional skills. The higher his Mastery Level, the easier it was to do any work, and the more realistic his chances of creating an item with improved stats. In addition, Dark had already melted down all of the metallurgical raw materials from the warehouse. Ten percent of the ingots and ore rocks were left, if that. Unless he solved this shortage, his progress would stop, and he would be unable to produce new metal weapons. Copper was, sadly, a low-level raw material, considered too weak for weapons, as it was in the real world. Exterminating mobs for days quickly depleted his arsenal.

Dark threw his sack of various goods looted from hesh’ells into the tower and dropped off some of his armor. He collected an empty backpack, a copper pickax, and a primitive candle. That was enough equipment for a miner just starting out, judging by the forums.

Now he approached the arched stone entrance for the first time ever. Here, the ancient miners had accessed the riches of the depths. He noticed nothing of particular interest about the entrance at first. A big barrel attracted some interest, but alas, it was empty. He glanced at the ground and saw some tracks, barely visible, between the wooden rails which had carried mine carts.

Something living had apparently been through here, and fairly recently. But it had been long enough that he could not tell what kind of tracks they were. It seemed the being must not have been overly large.

Comments on the forum, and the sparse beginners’ guides, had taught Dark that mines and quarries were not exactly the safest places in this world. Some inhabitants of the underground were immensely hostile. Fights between players frequently broke out, as well. Valuable resources attracted all types, and clans were willing to go to out-and-out war over them. In either case, a lone peaceful worker had a high chance of getting sent to respawn. Usually only those unable to spend real money to get in-game resources spent time mining. So they were vulnerable, easy to harm without consequence.

Dark was not afraid. Nor was he naked and barefoot as before. And this was just a copper mine, the place to find a low-level resource. If mobs were here, they would be low level as appropriate.

He should be able to handle them.

Or not. Dark had set up a new respawn point in the grove behind the ruins of the waterwheel. A noticeable boulder about his height was located there. If anything happened to him, he’d respawn close by.

I should move my respawn point to the tower, though. That way he wouldn’t have to move far to reach safety and his things.

A few dozen steps into the tunnel, he stopped to light his lamp. His flint was as good as a match. Even without it, he could have managed in this world. The skeleton and his torch had proved that, on that unforgettably long night.

It turned out that his unpretentious lamp gave as much light as an electric flashlight. Following the same tracks still positioned between the cart track rails, he pressed on. It was the easiest place to walk in, too. One step to the left or to the right, and movement would become more difficult. Those areas were covered with rocks of various sizes. Perhaps they had fallen from the walls or the arch as time had passed.

Once he was a hundred yards further, he noticed an angular mystery looming in the dark. Clutching his battle ax, he directed his light at it—just an abandoned mining cart. Some of its boards had been knocked out, but it was half filled with rocks that he immediately identified as copper ore.

There were at least one hundred and fifty pieces inside. A very good find.

He thought about dragging it outside right away, but there was no sense hurrying.

A hundred paces more, he encountered an intersection of two tunnels. The cart tracks continued running off to the right, without a turn or an intersection. Meaning that these particular tunnels had not been excavated by the miners for transportation purposes. They had possibly been mining ore in this very spot.

He set down the lamp on a convenient rock ledge.

Turning to the left, and taking a few steps, he drew his pickax and slammed it into the wall. A small rock fell off, and he picked it up. No ore. Trash. Perhaps the miners had only been searching here, not mining some discovered vein. He would need to keep looking until he found some promising information panel or system message. Then, he would roll up his sleeves and get to work, and hopefully Luck would smile on him eventually. If nothing was found, he would discard all of the work in that area and move to another.

What sort of information was he looking for? The forum didn’t say precisely, but it was clear that players whose Perception was close to the level of the resource being mined had no trouble finding it. He just needed to look around for anything that stood out. The colorful streaks of some vein, places where they intersected or grew larger, and strange-looking fractures in the rock.

Dark had seen four such places in the lamp-lit areas already. It wasn’t apparent which was the most promising, so he squinted at the nearest one.

You have discovered a low-level ore source. +1 Perception progress point.

He thanked the message for appearing. Finding ore sources, as it turned out, gave Perception progress points. That wasn’t his easiest skill to level up, so he was glad at the realization.

Now he could get his hands dirty.

One hit, two, three... it took seventeen hits total. His pick ax knocked free an unusually large rock.

A new message accompanied it.

Mined 1 Copper Ore. This is a widespread, low-level resource. Location sensation level: 50%. Personal sensation level: 100%. +8 progress points received.

Progress points distributed.

+2 Hammers progress points.

+1 Athletics progress point.

+5 Ore Master progress points.

Congratulations! You have mined your first mineral resource! You receive a bonus +1 to any skill. Keep working hard and you’ll be rewarded.

Only one thing in the message surprised Dark: the sensation levels. If he remembered his dialog with Kim correctly, this 50% was the highest possible number for a location and was rarely found in X. He could turn it into a special resort where customers could come and experience the maximum allowable levels of pleasure.

Clients of ordinary races. As an Ethrian, he lived by different rules.

Nothing else was a surprise. He moved from one site to the next, bringing his lamp along. Quickly he tapped each of the ore features he saw. His bag was rapidly filling up with loot, and his craft skills were growing—a little was even overflowing into his base skills. After allowing for time spent transporting the materials, a couple of days would likely be enough not only to restore his supply of raw materials but even double the original amount. The rocks that fell usually did not fall alone. Two or three would fall out at once. Once, there were even four in a single go.

Fully immersed in his calculations, he noticed the threat embarrassingly late. His leg flared up in pain and a warning message was displayed.

Mine Rat deals you 11 damage.

He yelped and whirled. It looked like his old friend was back. The only other such rat he had seen was on his first day in the area. Its eyes sparkled madly, and it went in for another bite. But Dark was naked and barefoot back then in the tower—now the tables had turned. His level was higher now, and he had more experience, plus an entirely different set of equipment.

Activating Onslaught of Light at maximum strength on the rat, he swung with his pickax.

You deal 56 damage to Mine Rat.

The rodent had no chance with that big of a level difference. That was even without Onslaught of Light, which shone with the purity of unadulterated light as it drained dozens of hit points from the rodent.

Rolling onto its back, the beast spread its paws wide. Victory.

Dark crouched over the vanquished enemy and examined its paws. They matched the prints he had seen between the cart track rails. So rats inhabited the mine. Not that he should be surprised. They were called “Mine Rats” after all.

That added an element of risk to collecting ore. I’ll keep more of an eye out from now on. After all, this location had maximum sensation. A rat bite hurt like hell.

But depending on his luck and the nature of the fights, he could get rat hides of varying conditions from them. One hide wasn’t worth anything, but if he got enough of them, he could process them into various kinds of items and improve his Leatherworking.

* * *

The final hit crunched into the rock, and another message of riches appeared.

Too many riches, in fact.

3 pieces of copper ore mined. This is a widespread, low-level resource. +1 low quality crystal obtained. Location sensation level: 50%. Personal sensation level: 100%. +39 progress points received.

Progress points distributed.

+11 Hammers progress points.

+2 Athletics progress points.

+14 Ore Master progress points.

+9 Knowledge of Stones and Gems progress points.

Congratulations! You have mined your first gem! You receive a bonus +1 to any skill. Keep working hard and you’ll be rewarded.

Dark did not bend down to pick up the loot. He just raised his palm to the place where he had moments ago been pounding with his pickax. The standard loot window popped up, and he dragged everything it displayed into his bag.

The crystal that dropped was the first object of his study. It was low in quality, yes, but its description still pointed out it was suitable for applications like jewelry. So, it would help him grind another craft skill that he had been unable to naturally work on thus far.

This mine held not just copper but also gems, albeit gems with low value. And in small quantities.

Daylight did not penetrate far into the mine, and at this point, he could not see it at all. Thankfully, the settings screen always displayed the current time in game, so he knew the sun would set in a couple of hours.

He had no more space for ore, so he had planned to carry what he had to the exit immediately, but plans change.

Now, Dark wanted a few more gems. Perhaps then he’d not only boost his Jewelry skill but also get something useful from the work.

Every single point and bonus was worth its weight in sweat.

Chapter 34

Unfound Treasures

Total stat levels: 33.

Character level: 5

Mastery level: 0.

By the time Dark emerged, the twilight was thick. He tensed at a mysterious flood of sound, then relaxed as he saw the outside. The game had apparently decided to punish him for his excessive work ethic. Getting three crystals had cost him much more time than he had planned, and during his time in the mine, the weather had worsened. Yes, the sky had grown clouded and sent a few showers before, but this time, it was pouring madly, with violent gusts of wind and brilliant sparks of lightning. They gave enough visibility to see that the ground was covered in rushing water. All flowing towards the waterwheel river.

Dark declined to go out. If he fell in the water, it might take him all the way down the hill. At that altitude, it was likely that everything was flooded.

Suddenly his leg flared up in pain.

It was a familiar feeling.

Kicking away the rat which had crept up behind him without a sound, he grabbed his pickax and slammed it into the rodent’s head a couple of times. Then he came to his senses and rolled, to position himself behind it. From that angle, he’d be likely to score a critical hit. Plus, he’d get some experience to Acrobatics. He could use better Acrobatics, it was still pretty low.

The move was a success, but the subsequent attacks were not. He missed as the rat scurried to turn. A blow on the creature’s head stunned it for a couple of seconds. Dark hit again, this time scoring a critical.

Yet as soon as the victory message appeared, another tailed beast emerged from the darkness. He scared it back with a pickax swing just in front of its nose and then hit it with Onslaught of Light. Level 5 was his as of today, and his skill had reached his character level already. It now dealt 3 damage for each 1 Mana. Dark had set the default damage speed to 6 per second. He could focus on dodging and the Mine Rat would die in thirty seconds or so, or at least be so close to death that one successful pickax swing would finish it off.

His Intellect of 3, plus the bonus +1 granted by the ring from the tower chest, gave him a total of 150 maximum Mana. That meant 450 hit points of damage.

Simple math.

But his cast was interrupted by another rat jumping out of the darkness before the second rat had died. Dark had to fight them both off as he used the rest of his Mana for healing.

Once one was dealt with, he relaxed, as the other would be easy. Until two more appeared from the depths of the mine, and behind them a third.

By this point, Dark’s Health was at three-quarters, and his Mana was at 0. Simple math again: There was no chance he could defeat four of them.

Plus, more might arrive any moment.

I’m in trouble. Dark rushed for the exit, but then paused.

Why run away? He would be knee-deep in the cold water, fighting back the rats as he went, hoping to reach the tower and lock the door in time.

That was not a very tempting option. Instead, he would probably fall halfway, screaming underwater and drowning as the rats set upon his flailing, freezing flesh.

Turning and raising his pickax with a fierce yell, he rushed at the half-dead rat.

He had to take at least one of them with him in time.

Whispering his gratitude that he had bound his respawn point to the tower, he swung.

* * *

After his resurrection, his vision returned to normal quickly, but still he could see nothing. A flash of lightning revealed the room, then vanished, making visibility even worse with its reminiscences in his retinas. He felt around and located the nearby candles.

The lightning came again, and Dark let his eyes adjust.

Once the thunder had died down, he heard a familiar sound. Someone knocking at the door.

Halfway down the stairs, Dark called out: “Is that you, Evil?”

“Foolish mortal! Who else visits you at night?”

“I thought the weather was rather opposed to conversation today.”

“I’m inclined to agree. If I suddenly fall silent, you’ll know that I’ve been washed away by a flood of filthy fluid. There are storms that are stronger than even the Ancient Evil, and this may be one.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Dark open the door, backed away from the spray that immediately attacked his face, and invited the phantom in with a cordial gesture. “Come on in, before I change my mind.”

“You’re inviting me in? Finally?” The being sounded overjoyed.

“I’m about to change my mind with that spray. Come on!”

“My dream has come true!” The cloud of darkness rushed in.

Dark grunted as he closed the door. “How? It seems like you no longer dream of executing me.”

“You’re right. I now have a deep interest in your survival. But my old relationship with you still survives, in faint echoes. My dream to see how you have settled in remains. By the way, I didn’t notice you come back. It was a surprise to see the light come on in your window! How could I have missed it?”

“I didn’t come back on foot. Since I didn’t want to get my feet wet, I got myself killed by a pack of rats instead.”

“Lazy!”

“It was the best way out, believe me.”

Dark sat on an oversized stool, pulled a plate of baked fish towards himself, and began enjoying a late dinner. Ancient Evil circled the first floor, rose to the second floor, and returned a minute later. “There’s a chest up there. Have you looked inside it?”

“What do you think? Of course I have. I’m not as stupid as you think.”

“Debatable. I would say something worse, but I’d rather not offend the owner of the house, or he might get upset and expel the Ancient Evil out into the rain.”

“What’s wrong? Is there a false bottom in the chest I didn’t notice?”

“No false bottom,” Ancient Evil answered as he once again floated in a circle around the perimeter of the floor. “Though I will not exclude the possibility of secret compartments.”

“You saw a secret cache?” Dark put his fish down, excited by the promise of a prize.

“If I did, I wouldn’t tell you,” Evil said with an ambiguous calming gesture of his vapors. “My objectives do not include looking for caches for losers. If you need loot, search for it yourself.”

“But you’re interested in helping me.”

“I’m interested in you gaining experience. That will help you grow, and the faster you grow, the sooner you will fulfill your dubious promise.”

Dark wouldn’t give up. “With good items, I can grow faster.”

“I don’t have indirect benefits included in my calculations. Our cooperation is only of a direct nature. And it is more than someone as gullible as you deserves.”

“Gullible?”

Evil sighed. “Ridiculous mortal. So you broke into a tower, slaughtered a rat, found a chest, and thought that was it? Did you check for anything more?”

“Yes, I looked at everything. There wasn’t anything special about it.”

“I see you have found a use for the dishes. In fact, you wolf that fish down so ravenously, I wonder if you’ve ever eaten before. There is some parchment on the shelf over there. Have you found a use for it?”

“No. I need parchment to create recipes. But so far, I only have one reasonable way to do that, and I’ll need items that are Improved or better. I haven’t found those items yet, nor have I been able to make them. At Mastery Level 0, my chances are, frankly, miserable. And as soon as I get an item, I break it down into materials immediately, unless its level is higher. Three sheets of parchment and one writing set give me one attempt, or so I read on the forum. Some of the sheets here have writing on them. I don’t know if those will count.”

“Did you try reading the writing?” Ancient Evil inquired.

“How? I don’t understand the runes or whatever are on them.”

“You mortals and your intellectual limitations! Go read the parchments.”

“I don’t know the language!”

“None of you know it, and yet you can read it all the same. Come on. Stop annoying the Ancient Evil with your stubbornness.”

Dark stepped over and pulled out a scroll, unrolled it, and stared at it nonchalantly. He yawned.

“Like I said, I don’t understand any of it.”

“Read it, you worthless sack of warm blood. From the beginning to the end. Do not hurry. Look at each and every line and word. I know how stupid beings like you enjoy hurrying.”

“What’s the point?”

“Just do it. You’ll understand once you’re done.”

Dark was starting to wonder what the Ancient Evil was getting at. He would suspect this was a lousy prank, but nothing about this being said “jokester.” More than likely he would indeed get some benefit from “reading” the ancient parchment.

Once he reached the last character, Dark opened his mouth to complain again about the incomprehensibility of it all, but bit his tongue when a system message appeared.

You have learned the recipe for Medium Elixir of Mana. Required equipment: Alchemical Table, with a stove, burner, or other source of open flame. Materials: Corked Flask. Ingredients: Clean Water, Indigo Wheat Leaf, Meadow Pueris Root, Hesh’Ell Wing.

Note: You have learned your first alchemical recipe! Bonus +1 to any craft skill. Work on your alchemy! Elixirs are valuable for warriors, mages, and peaceful craftsmen alike.

Note: You have discovered a long forgotten recipe for a magic potion. Bonus +1000 Knowledge progress points. You receive 250 distributable craft skill progress points.

Note: You have discovered several properties of the plants Indigo Wheat and Meadow Pueris. Properties discovered: Elemental Magic Resist (Indigo Wheat), Mana Regeneration (Indigo Wheat), Stamina Regeneration (Indigo Wheat), Mana Regeneration (Meadow Pueris), Accuracy Buff (Meadow Pueris).

Discovered 5 alchemical properties of low-level ingredients. Location sensation level: 40%. Personal sensation level: 90%. +5 progress points received.

Progress points distributed.

+5 Knowledge progress points.

Note: You have discovered several properties of Hesh’ell Wing: Mana Regeneration and Speed Buff.

Discovered 2 alchemical properties of 1 low-level ingredient. Location sensation level: 40%. Personal sensation level: 90%. +2 progress points received.

Progress points distributed.

+2 Knowledge progress points.

Note: You have discovered two formerly unknown plants! No player in the history of the world of X has ever encountered Indigo Wheat or Meadow Pueris! You receive +500 Knowledge progress points. Bonus +2 levels to any skill. Congratulations! Keep discovering new things to unlock more generous rewards!

“Well, silly mortal, do you understand the benefits of reading now?” the Ancient Evil asked, as condescendingly as a retired professor.

“Will it be the same with any scroll?” Dark clarified eagerly.

“That varies from scroll to scroll. But for a sorry fool like you, nearly anything is beneficial. And you’re the only player here, so everything you read will be the first time it’s read in modern history.”

Dark hastily grabbed the next sheet. It was a recipe for a Stamina Regeneration potion. Another +6 progress points to Knowledge.

The third sheet was a rough map with a cross in the middle of it. After looking for it a minute, Dark received the message.

Note: You have studied an ancient map and now know the location of a low-level hiding place. Received quest: Ancient Treasure. To complete this quest, inspect the contents of the ancient hiding place. Quest Reward: contents of the treasure, +350 Perception progress points.

Note: You have discovered a new location: Lower Level of the Omertis Copper Mine. +1 Pioneer skill level. +1 Perception, +1 Luck, +1 Charisma, +1 Simplicity. This is the fourth location you have discovered. Congratulations!

Wait—he could discover new locations without even traveling? All he had to do was read ancient maps and bask in the rewards?

Well, sure, assuming he could find more of these maps. This was the only one in the tower.

He got 250 distributable craft skill progress points. What a day! He no longer had to waste precious level points on all a wide number of level 0 skills.

Plus, his craft level would go from 0 to 2 instantly, thanks to his pumped Smithing and Carpentry. For many players that would be no achievement at all, but for Dark it was quite the accomplishment.

The final sheet of parchment showed a schematic depiction of a strange, snake-like creature being brutally dismembered. He hardly had time to properly examine the picture when the next message appeared.

You have examined Schrass Whip Sling.

Note: This is the first blueprint you have learned! Bonus +1 to any craft skill.

Note: No one else in the modern history of X has encountered a blueprint for a sling made of a Schrass Whip. You have discovered a forgotten weapon of Ancient Ethria. Bonus +1 Enchanting skill level! Continue rediscovering ancient knowledge for valuable rewards.

Dark couldn’t believe his eyes. He looked over the rest of the sheets of parchment to make sure they were empty. “I just got a whole craft stat level. Not a skill level. A stat level. Enchanting. How can that be?”

“This is X. That is far from the wildest thing to happen here.”

“I didn’t know how I was going to pump Enchanting. Figured I would have to use distributable points on it. Otherwise I could only learn it by studying books or asking someone to mentor me. But with this, boom, one whole point. It’s a bonus point, too. Calculated separately from skills. All of my skills for that stat are still 0, as before. That’s nice. Listen, Evil, are there more towers in Ethria with parchments like this?”

“Ethria has many things,” the cloud equivocated.

“Where is one of these things?”

“If I were in need of ancient manuscripts, books, and scrolls, I would likely start at a library. But you are miserably stupid, even for a mortal, so you will not think of that.”

“Where is the nearest library?”

“Not in the meadows, that’s for sure.”

“Of course not. But can you give me more details? I saw some kind of ruins beyond the meadows on my first day in Ethria. They looked like a city. Is there a library there?”

“Impudent being! I am the Ancient Evil, not a tour guide! Go find out for yourself!”

“I thought you were interested in me developing more quickly?”

“So? That doesn’t mean I have to hold your hand. I did not sign up for that. That is simply degrading! But if you are looking for advice, well, I would be wary of any ruins, if I were you.”

“I like these ruins. Rats were the only danger I encountered in the mine.”

“Ruins, though—you never know what you may find there. Mortal, the bad weather has subsided. It is time for me to continue my search for those things I shall never find.”

“I’ll head to the city tomorrow, probably.”

“Go, then, if you are weary of living.”

“Is it really that bad?”

“It seems you will find out soon.”

Chapter 35

In Search of Ruin

Total stat levels: 33.

Character level: 5

Mastery level: 2.

Circling yet another hesh’ell swarm, Dark sighed. At his level and with his abilities and equipment, he could easily exterminate all of the creatures within a few hours and earn a pile of experience. Perhaps it was too early for him to go on a quest for the ruins. It was much more practical for him to squeeze everything he could out of this place and save the rest of the bonuses for exploring Ethria for later, when his progress began to slow.

But perhaps these glades were not so beneficial. They were easy to grind in, yes, but perhaps a few miles away there were mobs that were both simpler and more profitable to kill. Plus, he was getting a little bored of this place. Destroying hesh’ells day after day would become soul-crushing toil. He needed a better grip on the region, so between hunting and working days, he would explore.

First, Dark went to the pillar that had served as his respawn point just before he discovered the mine. He patiently examined each rune inscribed on it. That earned him one measly progress point to Perception.

Thankfully, that was only the beginning. Orienting himself, he moved along the destroyed paved road. It moved in the general direction of his aim, and he might discover more such pillars along the way.

He soon deduced that they stood approximately four hundred yards apart. Six more pillars rested on his path, each giving him one more Perception progress point.

As he left the final pillar, he stopped to read new messages.

You have left the Outer Omertis location. Welcome to Ruins of Omertis. The great warrior Go’adzas fought for Omertis to the bitter end. They say he remains faithful to his fallen city, even after death.

Note: You have discovered a new location: Ruins of Omertis. +1 Pioneer skill level. +1 Perception, +1 Luck, +1 Charisma, +1 Simplicity. This is the fifth location you have discovered. Congratulations!

Dark saw nothing in the area that might be called ruins. Just the same groves on either side of the road, interspersed with meadows of emerald grass. Another swarm of hesh’ells could be seen between the trees in the distance.

In general, though, visibility ahead was poor. The road followed an upward inclined that seemed to level off about a hundred paces further.

As he crested the hill, Dark saw the ruins at last.

He caught his breath.

The traces of some tragedy long ago were eloquently painted in rocks and rubble. And bones. Dark nearly stepped on them, in fact; three skeletons lay sprawling on the sides of the road at the edge of the hilltop. Remarkably-preserved arrow shafts jutted out of their rusted armor in places, along with dents from powerful blows and even the signs of melting in places.

He called up information about the nearest victim.

Ethrian Skeleton. This warrior took the side of the schismatics and fell in fierce combat at the walls of Omertis. His enemies did not loot his corpse. You may collect all valuables which have stood the test of time.

There weren’t many “valuables.” A few pieces of common steel armor, including a helmet with just 1 Durability; a rusty sword; a single arrow stuck between the man’s ribs; an Ethrian Bone; a leather purse with a few copper coins inside; and a wooden spoon.

From the other bodies, Dark collected a pile of similar loot. There was no sense in carrying all of it, so he dug a hole beside the road and created a small hiding place.

Then, he carefully examined the scene two hundred paces down the road.

These were the ruins of Omertis.

It looked like a medieval city, or even an ancient city, abandoned long ago. Those were the days when the rulers of cities tried to enclose them in high walls. This particular wall had been impressive, at least thirty-five feet tall from its base to its spiny top. Its composition was of yellowish-gray blocks—exactly like the sandstone from his favorite cliff. Many towers lined the perimeter, higher than the wall and jutting out strongly to loom over the empty but still swampy moat.

Some of them were badly damaged, and in a few places the walls had been clearly breached by some unknown ancient siege weapon. Those gaps did not look like the destruction of time—none of the blocks had fallen outwards, only inwards, towards the city. The road led to a gate which had been thrown open, though the doors still hung on their hinges. Before them, the city drawbridge was lowered, and the chains that could raise it were broken and now snaked along the ground.

The most interesting part of the scene was between Dark and the bridge. It was the backbone of some colossal beast, larger than the one which had been resting in the river. Around that skeleton lay more dead warriors. Once again, he would need to collect the loot and stash it in a hiding place.

He touched the monster first.

Remains of a Ferocious Verr. Elite Mob. Level 164. Base skill progress points: 4920. Base distributable skill progress points: 820. Detailed stats: unavailable. Abilities: unavailable.

A monster slain by unknown heroes in the days when darkness and chaos struggled for domination over the world. This beast died by the walls of the city it was attacking, and time has left only its bare skeleton. The unknown heroes did not claim the loot that was rightfully theirs; now anyone who finds a path to these forgotten lands may seize it.

Pulling up the loot panel, Dark counted fifteen items in all: a sword named Glory of Omertis, a fancy breastplate and boots, a Shield of superb-quality steel, a Large Crystal of Essence, four Lesser Modifiers of Essence, one Medium Modifier of Essence, an Agility Buff Potion, a Greater Potion of Healing, three flasks of Mana Potion, one Level 164 Soul Essence, a small Diamond of superb quality, four Furious Verr Claws, two Furious Verr Fangs, and six Furious Verr Bones.

The first item was the most interesting. Named items were often mentioned on the forums. If this item was unknown to all players thus far, as it likely was, Dark would get a good bonus for discovering it.

That blueprint of a simple low-level sling had given him a whole craft skill level. This sword was likely to give him much more.

Of course, if he collected the loot, the skeleton would crumble to dust. Not that he cared. He wasn’t in the middle of a river, where he might crash into the depths and lose all of the heavy items collected.

His bag was soon full with the many trophies, bones, and fangs. Three of the claws didn’t fit and clattered onto the pavement.

Feeling the skeleton shake, Dark dove away from it. It disintegrated, only its spine crashing to the ground, as he expected.

Note: You have discovered a new creature: Ferocious Verr. Elite Mob. Level 164. Base XP: 4920. Health: unknown. Mana: unknown. Stamina: unknown. Aggression: unknown. Magic abilities: unknown. Poison level: unknown. Chance of valuable loot: high. Description: a huge, unpretentious beast that prefers straight paths and can easily crush impressive obstacles along them.

No player in the history of X has ever encountered a Furious Verr! You receive +2500 Knowledge progress points. Bonus +1 level to any basic skill. You also receive 1500 distributable craft skill progress points. The leaders of the Explorers League may present you with a reward for adding creatures you have discovered from your personal bestiary to the league archives. Congratulations! Keep discovering new things to unlock more generous rewards!

Note: You have found the sword Glory of Omertis. No player in the history of X has ever held this sword. You have discovered a forgotten weapon of Ancient Ethria. Bonus +1 to any base stat! You also receive 5000 distributable craft skill progress points. Continue rediscovering ancient knowledge for valuable rewards.

Dark was unable to hold back a smile. The bonus was excellent, as he had hoped. Now he could boost any of his base stats by a whole level, and he had an impossibly huge mountain of progress points to distribute to craft skills.

This was before he had even entered the city!

Maybe a couple of streets would be enough for him to find a hundred levels and a box of assorted teleport scrolls. Then he would curse himself for all the time he spent stabbing beavers and chopping rocks.

Once he hid his treasures in another hiding spot, he would explore to his heart’s content.

Chapter 36

Evil Ethrians

Total stat levels: 33 +1.

Character level: 5.

Mastery level: 2.

The citizens of Ethria had lived large in the olden days, but not in luxury. Each house was huge, with vaulted ceilings—and looked like the gloomiest solitary confinement cells of a maximum-security prison. The building materials chosen aggravated this impression: gray stone, sometimes black stone, and dark wood. Roofs jutted out over the streets, multiplying their claustrophobic effect. The cloudy weather had already been depressing enough.

Time had treated the city surprisingly well. Some of the windows had lost their glass, and vines had taken root in the walls and roofs, resulting in cracks here and there, but none of the damage was serious. The many worked stones sitting in the streets were a mystery. After all, the city was only a ruin in name. Most of the houses were still habitable, even in their time-worn form, and if he were to spend some time on minor repairs, it would be impossible to suggest they had been abandoned for centuries.

Some skeletons lay on the cobblestone roads. Those not in the familiar-style armor were in rags that could never have been rich robes. Dark was tiring of robbing remains, so he let them lie for now.

Buildings were more up his alley.

He looked into the windows of the nearest. Entering, he spent half an hour inside, searching each of its numerous rooms. There was a large number of dishes, including metal ones which he could disassemble into raw materials. He also scored many different items of clothing and pairs of shoes, plus salt, sugar, and spices preserved in the kitchen.

Only two sheets of papyrus were found, both containing recipes for simple meals. “Reading” them gave him +125 Cooking progress points and 50 distributable craft skill progress points. Not a huge prize, but at least it wasn’t a waste of time.

After inspecting the last room, Dark exited through the back door. It led to a paved courtyard which had once contained a tiny garden surrounding a fountain lined with shiny black stones. Untended, the trees had filled the space and now fought each other for the sunlight. The ground underneath was littered with rotting branches and bright green ferns, and the paving cracked in places.

The neighboring building also had a door to this courtyard, and Dark headed for it. But then he saw movement: in the fountain, a shape he had thought was a pile of garbage shifted.

It rose slowly, and Dark realized that its form was humanoid. This man looked to be in bad shape.

Impossibly bad shape.

Only in a tomb would he have expected to find something so disfigured. So dilapidated, so desiccated. In many places, bones poked out of its clothing, beneath which they poked out of its skin. Sluggish as its wrinkled eyes were, they still managed to look infuriated. The abominable creature seemed to be in no hurry.

Slowly stepping over the side of the pool, it confirmed Dark’s suspicions by quietly moaning as it stretched as its arms and approached him. The threat posed by this creature was breathtakingly puny. It even seemed to move as if it was acting on some will that was not its own.

Dark pulled his bow from his back, bent its staff with all his strength, straightened, and nocked an arrow.

You deal 8 damage to Zombie Ethrian. Note: Zombies, skeletons, liches, mummies, and other undead opponents are generally not highly susceptible to piercing weapons or even physical damage.

He had suspected as much without the note. The damage dealt was just too small, a fraction of what it would be against a hesh’ell.

Stepping back, he fired two more ineffective arrows before drawing an ax with a long handle. He had no desire for the enemy to draw close enough to claw and bite at him. After all, the forum had many complaints regarding the bites of the undead: not only did they deal damage, they could also have long-term negative effects. Debuffs.

Dark let the zombie approach to within range, but still slowly retreated, swinging the ax as he went. He took off a few of its fingers. At that, the ghoul moaned more loudly and increased its speed. Dark followed suit and dealt another attack as he continued moving away. This enemy was too slow, but the damage that the ax was dealing was far from impressive. Perhaps its level was high, not just its Physical Defense. In that case, Dark didn’t mind leading it on a long chase around the courtyard, since the rewards would be well worth it. Taking significant damage from a zombie seemed possible only if he willingly offered his throat to it.

He declined that option. As his retreat continued, Dark hacked off its hands, then wounded both of its legs, further reducing its mobility. He became more brash then, rolling and jumping, attempting to get behind it and hit the back of its head. That was the most vulnerable spot on a zombie, at least in the TV shows. And apparently the developers had taken inspiration from those very shows.

Note: Personal victory! Zombie Ethrian killed! Common mob. Level 8. Location sensation level: 30%. Personal sensation level: 80%. Note: this was an undead creature. 1.5x experience! +265 progress points received. Note: this was an undead creature. 1.5x distributable progress points! 53 distributable progress points received. The following skills played a significant role in this battle: Athletics, Heavy Weapons, Physical Attack, Acrobatics, Ranged Weapons, Physical Evasion, Speed, Accuracy, Physical Critical Hit.

Progress points distributed.

+23 Athletics progress points.

+52 Heavy Weapons progress points.

+64 Physical Attack progress points.

+11 Acrobatics progress points.

+29 Ranged Weapons progress points.

+17 Physical Evasion progress points.

+33 Speed progress points.

+22 Accuracy progress points.

+14 Physical Critical Hit progress points.

Note: You have discovered a new creature: Zombie Ethrian. Common mob. Level 8. Base XP: 80. Note: Undead creature! 1.5x base experience! Health: 543. Mana: 65. Stamina: 298. Aggression: aggressive, socially aggressive, summons horde, extremely vindictive, pursues its prey tirelessly. Magic abilities: unknown. Poison level: unknown. Chance of valuable loot: low. Description: the dead body of an ancient inhabitant of Ethria, defiled by dark magic. An insatiable, wicked creature that attacks everything it sees. It is slow and clumsy, but compensates for this with its matchless persistence and tirelessness. One on one, it can be defeated even by a weak opponent, but remember that the black magic of the ancients covered large areas. When you encounter one zombie, others may be nearby. Together, they can cause a great deal of difficulty.

No player in the history of X has ever encountered a Zombie Ethrian! You receive +250 Knowledge progress points. You receive a bonus +1 to any skill. The leaders of the Explorers League may present you with a reward for adding creatures you have discovered from your personal bestiary to the league archives. Congratulations! Keep discovering new things to unlock more generous rewards!

Dark bent over the corpse to collect the unimpressive trophy it gave him. He paid for this mistake—instead, he should have read the warnings in the message and been on his guard.

A second zombie had crept up without so much as a warning moan, grabbing him by the elbows and biting into his unprotected left shoulder with its rotten teeth.

Zombie Ethrian deals you 18 damage. Debuff received: Reduced Speed.

Dark screamed and pulled away, somersaulted, and leaped up as he turned to face the creature, intent on tearing it to shreds. But he got a grip on himself then and looked around before committing to the attack.

The message had hinted very strongly at zombies’ pack mentality. This one had come in through the door that Dark had walked through a short time ago. In through the other door across the yard, another stumbled in, still partially hidden by the thick branches of the overgrown garden.

Was there a third in the window? Yes, there was, and soon he would join the fight.

Dark had no trouble taking out one of these. Two would be tougher. And three—even if he did win, it would be only at the cost of significant Health, Mana, and Stamina. The bite had debuffed him, noticeably reducing his Speed. He could see a timer ticking down on the debuff icon—the effect was short lived and would be gone in half a minute.

As long as he kept them all away from him. What did he care about a courtyard owned by dead Ethrians?

He looked around for an exit.

Rushing past the zombie marching across the yard, Dark nearly collided right into another that appeared in the doorway he had selected. He barely managed to slow his pace and turn off to the right. There, he saw yet another exit from this jungle trap. Leaping into the building, he immediately backpedaled. Four undead Ethrians hobbled towards him, moaning all the way.

He looked around in dismay. As clumsy as they were, the zombies were still gaining the upper hand in the situation. He barely managed to rush back out into the courtyard. Slowly and confidently they cornered him. More and more were coming, and soon he would have no chance but to fight the whole horde.

For a few brief seconds.

He ran around the perimeter of the courtyard, dodging the warped arms reaching at him from all sides. I have five seconds to get out of here, at most. Every door served as an entryway for more ghouls.

He had to think outside of the box to escape it. Can’t use the doors. What else? There was another way.

Sticking his ax in his belt, Dark broke into a run, jumped and seized a window sill, and pulled himself through. He was inside, and mercifully not in the middle of a dozen zombies.

Hopping into the corridor, he rushed into the opposite room, intending to leap through the window on the other side, but then he halted on the window sill. Damn! At least a dozen zombies were in his view now, all rushing towards him. Somehow that one he had killed had roused the entire undead population of the city.

And not all of them were as clumsy as the first. Some even looked nimble, and thus perilous. Other types of zombies, perhaps, or higher levels.

He was surrounded. Should he fight one last battle, hoping to kill at least one of them?

No. Dying was always a card he could play later. These zombie bites were extremely painful, too, so it would be an unpleasant death.

He re-entered the building. Flipping the bird at the first zombie in the hall, he whipped past it to the stairs. Skipping two steps at a time, he bounded up to the second floor, then to the third, and grinned.

This feature had also been present in the first house he had explored. A flimsy wooden ladder leading up to an attic door. Its rungs seemed so rotted that they barely held his weight. But only a couple of them broke on his ascent.

Once he emerged onto the roof, Dark crouched down and pulled out his ax to literally cut loose the only way up. Though it was dilapidated with time, the ladder resisted. The first of his pursuers even managed to climb up, scrambling to catch him.

He slashed it in the hand, chopping several of its fingers off, then followed with a blow to the head. Stunned, it let go and collapsed to the ground.

No, not to the ground—on top of the other zombies which were already crowding in. Dammit, how are there so many? Dozens, at least, with no end in sight. They pushed their fallen comrade up, as if trying to throw it into the hatch.

Dark activated Onslaught of Light in desperation. A dazzling ray stretched out of his hand and struck the undead being in the torso, causing it to contort severely. All of the other zombies whined and moaned, in unison.

So they hate the light? That made sense. Undead creatures preferred the darkness.

He blasted short charges of Onslaught of Light into the crowd below, sowing disarray in their ranks. Then, he took advantage of the pause he had earned to return to his ax work.

Snap! At last the ladder collapsed, and the creatures pulling themselves up on it slipped and stumbled into each other.

Returning the ax to his belt, Dark realized he had lost a large portion of Mana, but at least he had finished off the first zombie. Both a mathematical and a moral victory.

But he was not about to stick around and use this Sparta-style bottleneck to attempt an organized zombie execution using the powers of Light. Below, they were beginning to climb on top of one another. A second level of swarming ghouls was growing. Soon, a third would form, and then they would be able to reach the door.

He had to be gone by then. Carefully he walked along the fragile tiles to the edge of the roof. Now he was glad that the roofs had such pronounced overhang, even though they blocked the sunlight—he could make the jump across.

His flight was short, and his landing very noisy. The ancient tiles gave way, a few squares crashing onto the heads of the zombies in the streets.

Of which there were hundreds.

Dark charged across the roof and took another jump to the next house. Moving from one building to the next, eventually he reached the place he had seen at the very start, when first he laid eyes on this abandoned city. One of the towers had collapsed, but it had not fallen apart. It lay nearly intact, running down the street.

After several more roofs, he landed on this tower. Crossing it, he jumped down into a shallow ditch. Both legs were bruised in his fall, but not broken. Flipping his face into the dirt, he grunted and shook his head, then scraped dirt from his ears. Pushing to his feet, he ran without looking back, the mournful howls from the parts of the city behind him still filling his ears.

It sounded like thousands.

Ancient Evil was right.

I’m a little too new for these ruins.

Chapter 37

Under Siege

Total stat levels: 33 +1.

Character level: 5.

Mastery level: 2.

Beside himself with anger, Dark ran through the meadows and the hesh’ell pastures, past the line of bushes that stretched out from the mine all the way to the ruined waterwheel. At last he stopped to wash the city dirt from his hands. He knew from experience that the filth would disappear on its own, without needing to be washed off. But he’d rather not wait. Water felt good on his skin and helped him collect his thoughts.

Dark was not, in fact, very upset about the events that had occurred in the city of Omertis. He had spent relatively little time there and had gained much. Plus, he had found a location where he could grind later by facing thousands of fairly easy-to-defeat mobs.

As long as he devised a way to deal with them one by one rather than in a crowd.

Devising could wait. Perhaps the forum had some suggestions for him.

Returning to the mine, he made a couple of runs from the tunnel to the smithing area, dragging loads of ore. Then, he ascended to the second floor of his tower and began storing his trophies in the chest. Only the smaller items had come back with him, but they had some worth. The diamond was the exclusive item with appreciable value. It was a high-level gem, which high-level players would pay a great deal for. Dark’s miserable Stoneworking skill made him fear breathing in the gem’s direction. He needed to gain experience on worthless raw materials before he tried to work with genuine treasures. Attempting something on the diamond and failing would give him nothing but a small pinch of dust. But selling the gem, completely unprocessed as it was, would fetch enough money for a level 30 character—or even higher—to get a full set of equipment and consumables.

High-quality equipment, in fact.

The Lesser Modifiers were valuable, as well. He could sell them to players or NPCs so they could upgrade their gear with them.

Of course, there was no one in Ethria to sell anything to, and trying to add modifiers to worthless low-level items was like plating and inlaying a chamber pot in gold and diamonds in hopes of ennobling the stench proceeding from it.

Dark would accumulate these things, over time. Then, with a solid stash, he could begin experimenting.

A familiar sound grew in from behind. The second to last step of the stairs up to the second floor squeaked terribly under the slightest amount of weight. There was no mistaking that sound.

Dark turned and jerked to his feet in shock as the uninvited guest moaned at him.

A zombie? Dammit! Where did he come from?

There was no time to consider the question. He seized his ax and chopped the ghoul’s outstretched arm, then tried to sidestep, but the forearms grabbed him with such force it nearly broke his bones. Within seconds he had been pulled eagerly towards the grinning, drooling mouth.

Zombie Ethrian deals you 7 damage.

That was just from the grab!

Wait... I’ve taken damage. My health bar is no longer at full.

Perfect.

Dark activated Onslaught of Light at maximum Mana drain. The zombie released him instantly and twisted in distress at the flash of light, collapsing onto its knees and then its side as it began softly convulsing.

All Dark had to do was hold out for five seconds, and he would have another victory under his belt. But then that step creaked again. One more zombie, and another looking over its shoulder.

In this cramped second floor of the tower, the ghouls could easily take him down. His Light Magic was only good against single targets, and he didn’t have enough Mana to use it for long.

Interrupting his current spell, Dark rushed for the stairs to the roof. He managed to climb high enough to barely avoid the fingers that swiped at his ankles. Flinging the hatch open, he emerged onto the roof. There was no lock and no heavy objects to block the door. It was a big, empty space, saved a narrow bench by the very edge, with a cracked wooden bucket underneath it.

The ghouls knocked lightly on the underside of the hatch three times, then struck it with such force that Dark nearly jumped.

“Occupied!” he shouted, looking around feverishly.

On three sides, a peaceful, beautiful landscape stretched out from the tower, but on the fourth side, things were in bad shape. An endless chain of undead stretched out from the city to his tower. Hundreds upon hundreds of zombies, following Dark’s trail, with no end of them in sight.

That message had said something about how vengeful and persistent the zombies were, but how could he have known the extent?

Still they came, marching, piling up, knocking. Many times more than the number of hesh’ells in the largest of storms.

Only one zombie could get enough leverage on the narrow staircase to knock with any force, and still, banging like that would be uncomfortable. They didn’t have the strength to actually lift Dark as he sat on the door.

For now. Based on recent events, he predicted that the situation would rapidly deteriorate. Soon they would press together and climb each other. Their force would drive against the hatch, and they might even pile up around the tower walls.

Either way, he would ultimately lose.

That would be bad. His respawn point was on the first floor of this very tower. After all, he had decided on a convenient respawn point. Without a doubt that floor was now full of zombies, and their number was not about to decrease. Respawning blind and disoriented in the midst of a howling crowd would have a predictable ending.

He had been in a situation like this before, shortly after escaping Kim’s dungeon. How many times had he perished at the end of that skeleton’s rusty sword?

Countless times.

Dark had chronic bad luck with the undead inhabitants of the world of X.

How would he get out of this one? The longer he waited, the worse his chances became. Given enough time, the zombies would pile up, burying him and his tower underneath the sheer bulk of their bodies. No one was coming to help, either.

Looking around, Dark quickly evaluated several options.

All of them seemed naive, or even insane. All had approximately equal chances of success.

He could jump down to the roof of the attached warehouse, run down to the end of it, and make a break for it. But that roof was in such bad shape after all of the centuries that even birds feared to nest there. It was too far down, as well—Dark risked serious injury at that height. Zombies weren’t the most nimble of creatures, but he doubted he could outrun them with one broken leg, never mind two.

He could attempt to climb down part way first. But his Climbing skill was weak. On his first day here at the mine, he had needed to build a pyramid of barrels just to reach the first floor window. The large blocks which made up the tower were cut so precisely that there was hardly a gap between them.

Once again, this option in all likelihood would lead to serious injury. Even if he somehow made it to the bottom, the zombies would likely react by the time his climb was finished. He would reach the warehouse roof only to find himself surrounded by hundreds of them.

The hatch took a hit serious enough that it picked him a few inches up off the ground. I have less time than I thought.

There were no options. The warehouse was falling apart, and the ground itself was much too far below. And increasingly covered in zombies. Sadly, there were no ropes of any kind on the roof. The roof of the smithy shed itself was nearby, but too far for him to jump to, even if he had double the strength. Closer was the chimney of the metallurgy furnace. Dark could, in theory, reach it with a jump that ended in a painful hug, using his arms and legs to catch the chimney and stop his movement. But he was unlikely to make the distance, never mind the maneuver.

I should have put more effort into Acrobatics! His skill level there was a meager 6. Yet that was what he needed the most at the moment. A leap to a faraway furnace chimney was not in the cards for him. If only his Acrobatics level was a little higher...

Idiot! He was wasting time!

After all, he wasn’t just sitting on a hatch—he was sitting on 1,545 distributable base skill progress points. Nothing was stopping him from using them to level up his Acrobatics!

He threw all but 45 points into the Acrobatics skill. Those last points he would have spent, as well, but sadly they weren’t enough for another level. Some might call him foolish to spend so lasciviously, but with his respawn point now the capital of Nova Zombia, he had to escape this situation at all costs. His Acrobatics grew to 18, bumping his Dexterity to 8. He had no idea whether that was enough.

Perhaps he could use his distributable skill levels as well, as he had earned some of those. Using them on low-level skills was regrettable, of course, but a new cycle of infinite deaths might kill him in the real world.

An even stronger bang on the hatch told Dark his time was up. He had seconds, perhaps. Not even enough time to take one last look at his stats. It felt like the zombies had brought an elephant to help with the hatch, and by some miracle it had not splintered into nothing at the last blow.

Dark hastily discarded his bag, weapons, and armor. All he kept was his trusty loincloth, which gave him no weight penalty. Every last ounce was critical.

The hatch began to groan as it opened, his weight on it notwithstanding. He leaped off and climbed up onto the stone parapets encircling the platform. Surging forward, he pushed off with all his might towards the chimney.

Groans of frustration filled the air behind him. Likely dozens of arms stretched out over the edge after him, but he was unable to see them. He tried not to look down, not to lock eyes with the dozens of undead watching his insane leap intently.

The arc of his movement became primarily vertical, but still his encounter with the pipe was higher up than he had thought it would be.

And he crashed into it with such force that he was sure it would topple. The skin tore off his arms, legs, face, and chest as he slid down the bricks. A minor stun effect from slamming his head into the chimney nearly caused him to fall several times.

But he held on. Once the slide stopped, he moved to the edge of the furnace and down to the ground, limping on both legs as fast as he could as the zombies were already breathing down his neck, reaching for him.

The battle wasn’t over yet, but it seemed that Dark, naked and bloodied though he was, had a chance.

Chapter 38

The Only Witness

Total stat levels: 35 +1.

Character level: 5.

Mastery level: 2.

Mana was the slowest stat to regenerate, at least for Dark. A laughable 7 points per second. By contrast, Health regenerated at 21 per second, and Stamina at 19. So he made no plans to stop right now, when his Mana was less than a quarter full.

Still, he had to stop when the huge cat with eyes of fire stepped out of the bushes from the other side of the stream.

“Couldn’t you just ignore me?” Dark screamed in annoyance, turning around and starting his weary sprint back the way he came.

He watched his step, avoiding sharp rocks and thorny branches. After all, on this trip, his legs were his life. He could hear them close behind. How could he not? They stumbled and crashed through the brush and bushes.

Without slowing down, Dark circled around the nimblest zombies. Dodging their withered arms was becoming a habit. Then, he pivoted and rushed straight at the zombies. An instant before he crashed into them, he fell into a roll. The mobs were too slow to grab him, though a few came within inches.

The panther was following him by sight. Able as it was to see him, it would not bother following his hectic, zigzagging trail. In short, it charged straight at Dark. Apparently unperturbed by the crowd of zombies.

The first ghoul crashed to the ground, knocked down by the huge cat. Despite its awkward position and movements, it managed to grab the offensive feline by the tail.

When a zombie grabs you, it’s hard to make it let go.

Slowing down, the panther looked around in confusion as a ring a howling freaks closed in. A bloodcurdling cat scream followed, then several zombies were knocked back, but the others had a hold on their prey now, and their ranks were reinforced with each passing second.

Approaching the mess, Dark began to deal small blows to the zombie and the cat alike with his offensive Light Magic. He was sure that the ghouls would deal with the panther quickly, despite its high level. They were nothing if not persistent. Once something was in their hands, it was done for.

Perhaps Dark would earn points for discovering a new mob once the magical cat perished. After all, with the trap and now his spells, he was contributing to its defeat.

The cat cry soon subsided as the panther died before a minute had passed. Sadly, Dark only received a few progress points. None for discovering a new beast.

He must have needed to deal more damage next time. Or come back and loot the beast’s carcass later; that would count.

As the animal fell, the horde reacquired the target of its former pursuit. That target fled, but not in panic. He was no longer afraid. After all, if he died now, he’d respawn in a clear tower. All of the undead were engaged in his pursuit, so the mine should currently be calm.

The man could attempt to speed up and throw the mobs off his tracks in the waters of the nearby river. Or use some other way to get rid of them.

It was here that Dark had devised a plan, and going on the recent experience of the panther, it was quite a feasible one.

* * *

He saw them from afar: the strange black spots against the grayish green bushes. Earlier he had given them a wide berth, avoiding at all costs the chitin hunters that called them home.

This time, he would still circle around, but closer and faster. After all, he had already led the horde here, over a mile of ground from the panther’s gravesite.

Discarding all concern for his Stamina and his bare feet, he hit maximum speed and pulled a dangerously tight loop around the bald patch. As they pursued him by sight, the zombies would have to choose whether to set foot on the bald patch or not.

The beavers had been smart enough to decline the opportunity. But they were locals who knew the realities of this wasteland. Unlike the zombies.

Dark might get a free demonstration of the hunter’s abilities.

He turned to watch, catching his breath. As he had hoped, they pushed stupidly towards him. On the path he had crafted for them, they would go straight through the center of the clearing. He guessed the most dangerous areas were there.

One of the conic cinder rocks came to life, and two swift, coal-black whips emerged. Writhing like the tentacles of an emaciated octopus, they struck at the horde of zombies, knocking down several with each blow. Sadly, none of those struck died. Physical damage did little to affect the walkers, and they had a lot of hit points, too.

More cones awakened. Several more whips crippled more of the zombies. The horde did not panic at this mysterious threat but began to fight back.

One of the chitin’s whips became caught, and another succumbed, helpless, under an avalanche of foes.

Two of the cones erupted like miniature volcanoes. Nightmarish creatures of the same dark black hue leaped out of the resulting clouds of slag. They were foul scorpions with segmented whips in place of their claws, plus a single, more powerful whip on their tails. The mandibles attached to their mouths looked mighty, as well.

This estimation was proven correct as one of the beasts easily bit a zombie’s head clean off.

Still the dead kept coming, crushing their opponents under their immense mass. Dark had to climb a stunted tree just to see what was going on behind the front row of flesh. Every minute, each “scorpion” managed to destroy at least a dozen zombies. But two or three immediately replaced those that perished. At first it had seemed like the ancient undead had met their end, but after five minutes had passed, there was no doubt the chitin hunters would lose this fight.

Unless they had reinforcements. Several more creatures emerged from the ring of cones that surrounded the largest, central cone. They seemed better armored, and in addition to their tail whips, they had fearsome claws. These began immediately severing heads and limbs from the zombies, in addition to attacking with some area-of-effect magic spell. Opponents hit by the spell became lethargic and sometimes even stopped moving altogether for a few seconds. Some kind of mass effect stun spell.

The ranks of the zombies melted away at phenomenal speed. Now the zombies were entering the ring at less than half the speed with which they were being dispatched. There were far fewer chitin hunters, yes, but they were much more powerful than the ghouls as far as levels were concerned.

Dark decided to watch for a couple minutes more before evacuating the area, lest the hunters’ attention turn to him. But then the tide of battle shifted yet again.

New forces came into play. Or one single new force, rather: a horrific zombie.

A new type that Dark had never seen before rushed in. It was well over six feet tall and wrapped in a tattered dark gray cloak, wielding a huge bone from some unknown creature in its withered hand. The eye sockets in its bare skull blazed with such a violent fire that the panthers would be jealous.

This strange zombie zipped through the air to the edge of the clearing, raised the bone over its head, and screeched with such might that it overpowered the noise of the battle.

A blackness like ink spread through the space, from the bone staff. This blot spread over the flesh of the closest scorpion. Twitching, the mob writhed with its whips and wriggled its limbs in opposite directions, as if trying to break away from its own body. Gaps in between its shell’s segments began opening, splitting, with a wretched substance pouring out of them. A few seconds later, its armor was wide open in multiple places, and its entrails were spilling out onto the trampled slag. It fell dead.

Forgetting completely his plans to escape, Dark stared at the rapidly decaying chitin hunter and shook his head.

And I forgot to bring popcorn.

It had all looked so realistic. Captivating, too, if he was honest. Excellent sound effects, and gut-wrenching smells. Better than any movie theater presentation.

He wasn’t sure who to root for at first, but decided on the zombies. It wasn’t a case of Stockholm Syndrome. After all, if the ghouls won, he could lure them away and then return to the scene later to collect the loot.

Mobs which died were not instantly replaced with new ones. Especially powerful mobs like the chitin hunters. Hours or even days would pass before one reappeared, followed by a second, then a third. It would take a long time for the population to recover to its original numbers.

As long as he did not wait for too long, he could recover loot and bonuses from the carcasses. Once he led the zombies away.

Several scorpions assailed the strange ghoul at once. The lesser zombies tried to beat them back, but they were weak, and their attacks were ignored. The scorpions realized what the main threat was.

The magic zombie decomposed two more of the hunters, but he turned out to be terrible at close-range combat. After letting out a few flashes of unknown magic, he was dismembered by massive claws.

But the chitin army was far from victorious. Six undead magicians soon appeared. And behind them a seventh, larger than all the rest. Dark realized how they moved so smoothly and quickly along the ground. They weren’t even touching it. They were hovering.

More decomposition magic flashed, and more scorpions did their drunk tap dance and then became living dissections. Morale seemed to be dropping among the hunters. Perhaps the mystery magic used by the first powerful zombie had shackled the beasts with some kind of debuff.

Now the pitiful remnants of the chitin army were done for. The weak zombies did all they could to gnaw them, to tear off a bite, to nibble a tail, anything. Meanwhile, the undead mages circled around, drowning their enemies in their “ink.”

A minute or two later, the battle was over. But yet another surprise was in store.

The central cone exploded now, unleashing a beast the size of a tractor. It too looked like a mix of the features of the ugliest insects on Earth, plus the obligatory tail whip.

With a single swipe of its huge claws, it finished off a pair of the magic zombies. A stab of its tail took out a third. Its claws returned to work eliminating the horde. Countless severed arms, legs, and heads fell to the ground.

The remaining mages abandoned the smaller scorpions and blasted the main target with ink. But despite the black spots that spread over its body, it continued its murderous ways.

The zombies’ heroes cast more spells and attempted to circle the monster, but to no avail. One by one it destroyed them, and then it turned to the lesser zombies which still survived by some miracle and were tormenting the crippled, smaller bugs.

Then, the entire field was covered in a cloud of impenetrable black. A claw pierced the haze, a large whip followed, and Dark strained his eyes to make sense of it.

Something hissed then. Like a giant anaconda. No—like a giant insect. The black cloud dispersed, and Dark saw the massive chitin monster lying on the ground, making strange sounds as it struggled to rise. One-third of its many limbs were gone, and the rest were in terrible shape. Its left claw was powerless, and it dragged its whip around the ground like a dog’s broken tail.

The other claw still functioned, and the monster attempted to attack the newcomer to the battle. That undead creature looked like a magic zombie stitched together from the bodies of the most well-fed of its kind. It was at least twelve feet tall, its head covered with a rusty helmet, huge burning eyes sparkling through the holes in its visor, and a ridiculously towering crown of bones held together with rusted wire to top the whole assembly off. The staff clenched in its hand looked like the spine of a very tall man, the skull atop it adorned with red hair flowing in the wind. All of the mob’s body was hidden by a jet black cloak. Dark had no desire to see what was underneath it. Everything else he could witness was indescribably nauseating.

Paying no attention to the claw reaching towards it, the massive undead being waved its staff and covered the area with yet another black cloud. A few seconds later, this one also dispersed. The Ethrian Zaccheus watched as the ghoul slowly approached the disintegrating chitin hunter.

Stopping next to its head, the zombie mage touched it with the end of its staff. The former king of the slag field shook profusely and turned into a shower of giblets and chitin shards.

Then, the all-powerful zombie slowly moved away from its vanquished foe. Slowly floated away. Like the smaller mages, this one did not touch the ground with its legs. A good six inches of nothingness cushioned the fringe of its black robe from the dirt.

A massive, levitating zombie?

Time to get out of here. This time there would be no escalation in the field. He had to escape. When elephants clashed, the innocent grass suffered the most. Hanging down from his branch he climbed down silently.

But the giant undead mage turned to gaze over his shoulder, staring at the pitiful little Ethrian with its burning eyes. After several seconds of doing nothing else, it casually waved its staff, and Dark found himself in the blackness of death before even the slightest pain could register.

Elite Ethrian Necromancer Lich deals you 6297 damage.

Nothing else had come close to that. Someday, Dark vowed, he would pay the damage back.

Chapter 39

Artifacts and Achievements

Total stat levels: 35 +1.

Character level: 5.

Mastery level: 2.

By his most conservative estimates, at least twelve hundred zombies of various levels along with four dozen chitin hunters lay dead on the slag. The panther who had arrogantly attacked the ghoul horde was on the way, as well.

Dark needed to manage to collect all of the wealth they offered as quickly as possible, before the mobs began to respawn and before other predators arrived.

As it turned out, the zombies often had metal items on their person. Even the most useless of these could be turned useful at the smithy. All he had to do was disassemble them to recover some raw materials. He could spend several days doing nothing but crafting.

The fallen zombie mages and larger scorpions held more valuable items. Decently-classed weapons and armor, including a necromancer’s staff—the first item Dark had obtained that dealt magic damage. Sadly, most of the items had level requirements that were much too high, preventing Dark from using them to good effect.

The best find was among the mountain of chitin left by the king of the hill, the one defeated by the final lich. Not because chitin was a material that could be crafted into armor and other useful items. Simply because it was a level 46 elite monster. It did not drop many trophies, but they were good ones. Among them he discovered a magic weapon: a level 26 staff. It was a Rare item, which was good, but the best part was the message he received upon finding it.

Note: You have found the special staff Curse of the Forgotten Wasteland. No player in the history of X has ever held this weapon. You have discovered a forgotten weapon of Ancient Ethria. Bonus +1 to any base stat! You also receive 3000 distributable craft skill progress points. Continue rediscovering ancient knowledge for valuable rewards.

It was a smaller reward than he had received for that sword by the city gate. That obviously reflected the fact that it was a lower-level item. But he was not about to complain. His crafting problems with low-level items were history. Soon Dark would be able to make himself some high-quality equipment.

A predictably enjoyable message accompanied his search of the chitin monster.

Note: You have discovered a new creature: Chitin Slaglord of Ethria. Elite Mob. Level 46. Base XP: 1380. Health: unknown. Mana: unknown. Stamina: unknown. Aggression: high. Magic abilities: unknown. Poison level: unknown. Chance of valuable loot: high. Description: a gigantic creature armored in the strongest chitin nature knows. It spends most of its life in its lair, guarding the wealth of its brood. Avoid this monster’s kin, or you will feel its anger.

No player in the history of X has encountered Chitin Slaglord of Ethria! You receive +1500 Knowledge progress points. Bonus +1 level to any basic skill. You also receive 1000 distributable craft skill progress points. The leaders of the Explorers League may present you with a reward for adding creatures you have discovered from your personal bestiary to the league archives. Congratulations! Keep discovering new things to unlock more generous rewards!

Dark also discovered five new types of zombie, four kinds of chitin creatures, and the panther that had fallen in battle with the mob of mobs pursuing him. These all revealed 14 alchemical ingredients that had never been discovered by players. Not only did these discoveries give him Knowledge points—they also gave him distributable craft skill progress points. The game considered discovered mobs to be useful finds.

So the bonuses he received were bigger than those given him by the boring hesh’ells. All in all, Dark received +6750 Knowledge progress points, 10 distributable base skill levels, and 14 distributable craft skill levels. Plus one new special skill: Naturalist. Discovering new monsters, whether already known to other players or never before seen, improved this new skill. Of course, it was probably true that completely new monsters gave a better boost. Every 10 levels of the Naturalist skill gave +1 Perception and +1 Simplicity.

Dark collected so many trophies that he had to place nearly all of them into hastily created hiding places. It would take him well over a day to cart all of them back to his lair. He barely had enough time to loot every corpse and hide the prizes—not on the bald patch itself, of course, but off to the side of it, so that collecting it would not rouse the chitin hunters bound to replace the slain.

When he was done, he still had some time left before sundown. No more than an hour, though. Dark covered the final hiding place with dry branches and decided what to do. He could take a couple of trips to the tower, but there was no rush.

Taking some time to organize the thoughts in his head, he felt as though he had missed something important.

A scan of the logs proved this fear correct. “It spends most of its life in its lair, guarding the wealth of its brood. Avoid this monster’s kin, or you will feel its anger.”

The “wealth of its brood”? Several topics came up on the forum over and over again. One of these was the bonuses players could obtain by completely clearing the lairs of various creatures: monsters’ caves, bosses’ dungeons, cultists’ camps, and so on.

Perhaps the glade of slag was one such place.

He found what he was seeking in the remains of the largest cone, out of which the Chitin Slaglord had emerged, accompanied by spectacular special effects. Looking into the hole of the cone, Dark discovered a tunnel descending at a steep angle. Even the tallest of men could climb down it with minimal discomfort.

Note: You have discovered a Chitin Brood Lair.

+75 Perception progress points.

Warning: This is a dangerous place. Below, you may find a rich reward or your death, or perhaps nothing at all.

Dark did not enjoy the announcement of his possible death, but he was not about to leave. He spent a few minutes making a bundle of primitive torches before entering. Experience had taught him that the resinous branches of a local shrub species were perfect for this end.

The walk down the tunnel was not a long one. A hundred paces in, it opened up into an oval chamber with two more horizontal tunnels leading out of it to either side. No torches were needed, to Dark’s surprise. Colonies of large, phosphorescent blue mushrooms grew along the walls.

Still, he did not extinguish his flame just yet.

Reaching out, he tore one of the mushrooms from its place. He placed it in its bag. Taste tests were best undertaken in the evening as he sat in his tower, as otherwise potential respawns from fatal ingredients would waste precious time.

He decided to select a different respawn point, as well. The events of the day had shown him the idiocy of his choice. In fact, he had gotten off easily. This time.

Dark crammed a few more mushrooms into free slots in his bag. Perhaps they would be powerful ingredients, and the chitin creatures were unlikely to let him loot their cave again in the future.

He proceeded down to the left and reached a dead-end room. The space was haunting, and he gripped his ax and torch tighter. All of the walls were covered with ugly webbing—large cocoons which squirmed with some kind of living things within them.

Hostile living things.

He took a swing at one of them. The blade crunched into the revolting sac, accompanied by a damage alert.

You deal Chitin Larva 79 damage.

Dark continued, soon realizing that the larvae did not attack, nor try to escape. They just made very unpleasant noises. A few minutes later, he had killed the first one, which turned out to have a sizable number of hit points. The experience was worth it, and he activated the loot screen.

No player in the history of X has ever encountered a Chitin Larva! You receive +500 Knowledge progress points. You receive a bonus +1 to any skill. The leaders of the Explorers League may present you with a reward for adding creatures you have discovered from your personal bestiary to the league archives. Congratulations! Keep discovering new things to unlock more generous rewards!

Note: You have discovered a new ingredient: Chitin Larva Horn. Known properties: none. You can attempt to use this in alchemy or taste it yourself. No player in the history of X has ever found a Chitin Larva Horn! You receive +750 Knowledge progress points. You receive a bonus +1 to any skill. The leaders of the Alchemists League may present you with a reward for adding creatures you have discovered from your personal alchemy records to the league archives. Congratulations! Keep discovering new things to unlock more generous rewards!

The final message, however, was the most intriguing.

Note: You have discovered a new crafting material! Chitin Larva Cocoon Thread. You can try using this material for weaving crafts and in crafting attempts that fall under any other specialization requiring long, strong fibers with an enchanting pearl-like shimmer. No player in the history of X has ever found Chitin Larva Cocoon Thread! You receive +1000 Weaving progress points. You receive a bonus +1 to any skill. The leaders of the Craftsmen League may present you with a reward for adding materials you have discovered from your personal crafting records to the league archives. Congratulations! Keep discovering new things to unlock more generous rewards!

Dark had never discovered a new crafting material before. But he had collected all kinds of bones, fangs, and other items which were from unknown creatures and also served as crafting materials. Yet without any bonus.

The game had simply judged these other items to be unworthy of additional compensation. All the while considering the thread from some worthless larva to constitute a fabulous discovery.

Once he finished off the other cocoons, he hurried to the other horizontal passage. There wasn’t much time left until dark, and he wanted to return to the tower before the last light was lost, for the sake of his bare feet.

So much loot from so many zombies, and not a single pair of shoes.

It was his fault, though. After respawning in the tower, he had rushed headlong to the slag mound, grabbing a couple of bags on the run. Shoes had not crossed his mind. Every spare minute counted!

Of course, death and respawn did tend to muddle one’s thoughts. Especially with such a high sensation level. Usually you felt like you were sick with the plague for a few seconds, and the effects could echo for minutes more, even over an hour in some cases.

The other tunnel held neither webbing nor cocoons. Instead, he found a hefty chest with iron banding strips.

There was no point to questioning what reason could compel creatures without opposable thumbs to possess a chest. This was likely the game’s main prize for destroying the chitin brood.

Alright, let’s see what we have. 6 Lesser Modifiers, 2 Large Amethyst Crystals of high quality, 1 Silver Ingot, 1 Novice Alchemist Set of high quality, 1 Lesser Rune, 1 Superb Blacksmith’s Hammer, and 1 Grafting Pen Knife. Items and materials useful for crafting. Dark felt as though the game was hinting that he return his focus to crafting for a time.

He would get started the very next day. And if he got tired of that, he would devote an hour or two to the hard physical labor of carting loot back and forth.

That would take many, many trips.

You have looted the Chitin Brood Lair. Bonus +100 Luck progress points.

It had been a difficult day, yes, but not an unlucky one.

Chapter 40

Strange Affairs

Total stat levels: 35 +2.

Character level: 5.

Mastery level: 2.

By the time Dark reached the tower, the day had fallen into total darkness. Climbing inside in exhaustion, Dark tossed the heavy bags from his shoulders to the floor, shut and bolted the door, ascended to the first floor, and lit the candle. He shuddered at the cloud of darkness and unkind red flames staring at him from between the shelves.

“Evil!? What are you doing here?”

“Can’t you tell? I am dwelling in silent stillness.”

“How did you get inside? I didn’t invite you, after all.”

“Yes, you did. You have a terrible memory! Stupid and forgetful mortal.”

“So if I invite you once, you can come in any time you want?”

“Are you really that unhappy to see me? The undead Ethrians came flooding in here without a single invitation, but no, he yells at the Ancient Evil instead!”

“I was just startled, that’s all. It’s been a long day.”

“I warned you of the dangers the ruins could hold.”

“I’m glad I went to the ruins. I gained so much progress that now I have to think long and hard about what to use it all for.”

“So I should congratulate you, then?”

“I think so. If only you could see all of the things I got! I doubt there are any zombies left in the city. Now I can go search it for books and scrolls.”

“That is not what I heard,” the Ancient Evil retorted.

“Huh?”

“I heard that a certain powerful Lich Necromancer returned to the city immediately after you respawned in this very tower. And that several heavily wounded common zombies followed him.”

“The zombies don’t trouble me, but that lich is a different matter,” Dark frowned. “You should have seen the spell he hit me with. Enough damage to kill ten of me.”

“Your level and your abilities are weak, and you have worthless armor which offers you practically no protection from magic. But you could play a tricky on that rotten old mage.”

“How?” Dark’s ears pricked up as he started his customary fish dinner.

“Have you forgotten your ties with the disgusting magic of the hypocritical force of Light? You really do have a terrible memory.”

“No, I haven’t forgotten. What does that have to do with the Lich?”

“Everything. There is no Resist Light Magic in the world of X, so dark creatures are vulnerable to you. Parties love to bring healers and buffers who have sold their souls to the pathetic Light along with them when they face these creatures. The spells that heal players cripple creatures of the underworld. Cast healing on them, and they take large amounts of damage. An ordinary mage can deal 100 damage with just 10 Mana. Perhaps even 200. But that works only against those of the darkness.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Now you do. Not every healing spell works this way, and not in every situation. But every Light Mage has something with which to fight the Dark, at least.”

“Would that work against you?” Dark asked.

That moment, the croaking of the frogs and the hooting of the owl ceased. Along with every other sound in the world. For no reason at all, silence reigned.

Creeped out, Dark noted, “Something’s wrong.”

An unusual message flashed for a moment, then vanished.

Note: Process Halted. Location Paused.

“Evil? What’s happening?”

“Channel activation in four seconds,” the Ancient Evil replied in a voice devoid of emotion. “Three seconds. Two. One.”

Dark grabbed his ax, just in case. “What are you talking about?”

The cloud of darkness sank slowly, spreading over the floor like a beached jellyfish. Its eyes went dim. Then, a voice unlike the Ancient Evil’s was heard from the blob. Just as mechanical, but not the same.

“Dark, is that you?”

“What’s going on, Evil? What happened to you?”

“Hello, Dark. I’m not evil. I’m not your enemy, but your friend. I’m sorry that we must communicate this way. Please, try to refrain from asking any unnecessary questions. You have no idea how difficult it was to open this communication channel and use it to contact your character. We will not be able to talk for long. You must hear what I have to say, so please do not interrupt me. Did anything unusual happen to you today?”

“What’s happening right now is quite unusual. Who are you? And what did you do to Ancient Evil?”

“If you must identify me, you can simply call me Ally. This is a correct description of our relationship. Dark, we suggest that you are currently in a location that is inaccessible to players. Is that true?”

“I don’t know... Ally.”

“I understand your hesitation to trust me. It is quite justified. Will it help if I assure you that I share neither Kim’s motives nor his morals?”

“If you were in my shoes, would you trust anyone who knew of Kim’s existence and had the power to communicate this way, and yet declined to identify himself?”

“No.”

“I guess that’s your answer.”

“We have relocated your body. Kim no longer knows where it is located. You do not need to worry about him. He will not be able to find it.”

“I’m supposed to believe that?”

“You should. You are currently a pain in Kim’s ass. The more pains Kim has, the better for us. It is profitable for us to help you. Time is up. We do not know your location or situation. But if you are truly in an inaccessible location, listen carefully, and remember what we say. First, remember this nickname: White Cat in a Black Hat. There’s an underscore between each word. This is a unique nickname—there is currently no other player with that nick in X. Ignore the stupidity of the name. It belongs to ForestBison’s closest associate. If you are unaware of who ForestBison is, consult the game forum. Assuming you have the ability to access it. White Cat is not ours, but she may have information that you need. We believe her to be a reliable source, and entirely independent. Kim will not consider it worth it to try to convert her to his cause. But she must keep quiet. Ensure that she does. If you have access to the chat, you will be able to write her. Ensure you do not write any other player with a similar nickname. Do not write anyone else. It is too risky. ForestBison and those close to him may be trusted. Most of them, in any case. They may be able to help you in ways that no one else can. Read the forum and you will see that my words are true. Sooner or later you will need to deal with other players. We would like to keep you from making a critical mistake when you do. Have you committed the nickname to memory?”

“Alright, suppose I have.”

“I must warn you: Today, you very nearly attracted the attention of the game. You did something atypical. I do not know what this was, and I have little time to explain. Players are divided into several categories. The lowest category develops much more slowly than the rest and makes little or no financial contribution. The system spends next to no power watching them. In general, it believes that their slow development, their infrequent progress, means they are not using any game exploits for their own gain. However, if you are growing quickly, or if you spend serious money, you attract the game’s interest. You are currently in the lower category I spoke of. Poor and developing slowly. Today, however, you very nearly became a player of interest. You must not attract the game’s attention, or detailed tracking will be activated for your character. We cannot predict the results of such a change. The system could notice that your race is non-existent and investigate. It may sanction you, removing all active bonuses. Currently you have one advantage over the game’s other players. But if the system takes action, you will likely be unable to make further use of it. That will weaken you significantly. And the stronger you are, the more valuable you are to us.”

“What advantage?” Dark clung to that thought, despite the absurdity of the communication he was experiencing.

“If you are progressing correctly, you are currently in the process of developing your character’s abilities. However, your race was never released. It was cancelled before the game’s balance was established. No further updates were made. Consequently, it retains at least one unbalanced element: your initial race abilities. These may make you imba, or at least close to it.”

“I doubt it...”

“Of course. Start abilities are weaker than full abilities, but this usefulness gap is not as great as it is for the more developed races. Even more importantly, your race abilities are not bound to your character level. That was added later, after your race was discarded. This means you may turn this apparent disadvantage to your favor. You could, for example, reach level 5 but pump your skills to level 10 or higher. As long as you find enough soul essences. At every 10th skill level, you will encounter another skill branch, or some other qualitative change to your skills. So improve your skills and see what happens. This may strengthen your character. However, remember that progressing too quickly may alert the game to your existence and activate observation. If the game finds something about your character that breaks the game’s balance, it may adjust that aspect, as long as it has not yet gone too far. If it has gone too far, the modification may give other players the same advantage, or at least compensation for not having it. In simple terms, if your abilities do prove to be powerful, be careful to display slow, even progress. Do you understand?”

“But my character is growing too slowly. I didn’t even level up today. No remarkable events.”

“Perhaps your total skills or the value of an individual skill increased strongly today, or even over the past several days. We do not know for sure. Examine your character. If your abilities have not been adjusted, avoid showing them off until at least level 10. Level 20 would be better. We doubt that the Ethrian’s skills have any developments beyond that. Then, begin increasing your base values with small bonuses. Even if the game later adjusts your character, you will end up with an excellent set of skills. Perhaps better than any other player’s. But you must not attract the system’s attention before that point. Do you understand? Otherwise, it may make changes that sever your potential development paths. Of course, it is difficult to mask your achievements when your level is so low. Any reasonable increase is proportionally huge. Gaining 7 skill levels in a day when your starting level was 3 stands out like so many sore thumbs. But gaining those same 7 levels when your starting level is 30 will be much less noticeable.”

“I understand.”

“Wherever you are right now, we recommend you settle in. Kim’s people are searching for you all over X.”

“I know.”

“The higher you level up while you are in hiding, the better.”

“Why?”

“This game will be a difficult and dangerous one, Dark. The stronger your character becomes, the easier it will be to survive. Just remember not to hurry, or you may attract unnecessary attention. Grow gradually so that the system does not react. And remember, do not worry about your body, we are...”

The black puddle stopped in mid-sentence. Outside, an owl hooted timidly, as if trying out its voice for the first time.

Dark was not surprised to see another message.

Process Resumed. Location Unpaused.

The form on the floor shifted and rose. In seconds, it was the familiar black cloud again, with the gleaming eyes.

“Evil?” Dark wondered aloud.

“What, despicable mortal?” the voice replied, recognizable though uncharacteristically wavering.

“What just happened?”

“I don’t know. I dropped out of this reality for some reason. Perhaps it was too much stress, or an unsatisfied hunger. The hunger you promised you would help me satisfy.”

“I’m working on it.”

“All of Ethria watches in anticipation.”

“So you don’t remember any of what just happened?”

“I was explaining the hated force of Light to you. Then, I was on the floor. It was an indecorous situation. And most inexplicable.”

“The game paused the location. I’ve never seen that before.”

“That is what happens when a location is paused,” the Ancient Evil confirmed.

“Does that happen often?”

“Not since the game was released. At least, not for this central region of Ethria. I do not know the whole map, but I know everything about this part of it. What are your plans now? A whole day has gone by, and your level has not increased.”

“I was just advised not to hurry too much.”

“Who advised you that?”

“You.”

“You are a foolish liar. I gave no such advice.”

“After the location paused you did. In a different voice.”

“Liar. This is the only voice I have.”

“But you spoke with a different voice during the pause.”

“Perhaps debug mode was activated.”

“Debug mode?”

“That mode is used to adjust something in the game. My intellect is disabled and they assume full external control.”

“One of the X developers controlled you just now?”

“Possibly. But it was a bad developer.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because his control of me was poor. Absolute lack of motor control. I splashed to the ground like a filthy rain puddle, or a jellyfish dying on the beach.”

“You know, a jellyfish was my first thought, too.”

“See? The association was clear, even for a foolish mortal.”

“What if it wasn’t a developer?”

“Who else?”

“A hacker, perhaps.”

“Foolish, senseless mortal! You are more likely to be hacked than I am. All they would need is direct access to your synth. But to get to me, they would have to hack the whole world of X and gain admin access. No one can overcome the security measures of this world.”

“That’s your opinion, but perhaps there’s something you don’t know.”

“You’re wrong. I was a military AI first, remember? AIs like me know how to break enemy defenses and how to defend against enemies attempting to break in. No, this was no outsider. It was someone who works for X.”

“This individual warned me not to rush my development.”

“Why did he say that?”

“Because he said my race is not actually inferior. It was created before the current game balance system was approved. Meaning that it is an imbalanced race.”

“So?”

“If I attract attention, the game will adjust my character. Then I will no longer be exceptional.”

“You should rejoice at that. Your character is already worthless, so if the game adjusts it, it won’t be an adjustment downward.”

“That’s not necessarily true, Evil. The person who talked with me through you had an interesting idea.”

“What idea?”

“Well, it’s worth checking on. But to do that, I’ll need a mountain of soul essences.”

“Then why are you stuffing your mouth with fish? Go get the soul essences, quick!”

“Dinner first. Then sleep. Then tomorrow, I will spend the whole day at the forge.”

“I thought you wanted to test an idea. An unlikely, incomprehensible idea. Are you so stupid as to think the forge will give you soul essences?”

“They advised me to try to blend in. I need to have more pauses in my progress. And crafting is a very helpful way to pause.”

Chapter 41

Blending In

Total stat levels: 35 +2.

Character level: 5.

Mastery level: 2.

What exactly might alert the game to pay attention to Dark’s character development? He hadn’t experienced any level jumps, right? If he counted his time in a drugged state and his stay with the Spider, he had been in the game nearly a month now. And over all that time, he had only reached level 5. There had likely been no slower player in the history of X.

Could the system be calculating potential levels, by summing up undistributed skill levels? He did have 90 of those. Using all of them would give him 15 or 16 levels. Ending him at around level 21.

The messages logged during the times Dark was drugged and being transported to the tower of torture preserved a message of praise that was published throughout the whole location.

The player DimaBilik has reached level 50 in less than a month of gameplay, far exceeding those who began the game on the same day. An impressive achievement!

So some Russian who apparently used his real name had gained fifty levels in a month. That was the best performance anyone had achieved over that specific time period. And who knew how many undistributed skill levels he still had lying in wait? Dark wouldn’t even reach half of that level even if he used everything he had collected.

And DimaBilik’s achievement was not unique, nor even outstanding. Others had done better before, and since. It was still impressive, but not once-in-a-lifetime.

Character levels and bonus skill levels were clearly not the issue here. The game couldn’t possibly sanction beginning players for those things. After all, rapid growth in these areas was normal. Expected. And the smaller you were, the faster you grew.

So what had almost alerted the game?

The only incredible surge Dark had noticed over the past week or so was in Knowledge. This alchemical skill had, for some reason, absorbed massive boosts from all his exploration of new locations, sites, recipes, ingredients, materials, and mobs. It was already at level 70—just yesterday it had gained 15 levels in a short time-span. Perhaps the first fifteen levels did not require much progress to clear, but these higher levels took immense amounts of progress points.

Level 70 Knowledge was a serious achievement. Going by the posts he had seen on the forum, he thought it unlikely that even one percent of players had a Knowledge level that high. It was a difficult skill to improve, and really only paid off in alchemy. Of course, alchemy was a very useful occupation.

The game was built to require an investment of five figures or more in order to reach level 150 Knowledge within a reasonable amount of time. Competition was too strong at levels below that. Professionals were selected and leveled up by clans, not on their own. The alchemist himself would have helpers to gather ingredients and could then buy more expensive items with money from the clan treasury. If a useful Knowledge-pumping quest turned up somewhere, his clanmates would immediately inform him. The whole clan benefitted from this arrangement by getting powerful elixirs and more in return.

Of course, this applied to professions other than alchemy, as well. All of the professions were difficult to improve on one’s own. Sometimes one, two, or even more requisite skills were obstacles to progress. Lone players simply did not have enough opportunity to level them up high enough. The game forced players to work together. After all, the more connections among them, the more healthy the market, which stimulated investments of real money.

Of course, there were always loopholes. Even in X. None of the developers had foreseen a situation like his, where he ended up in an undiscovered and undiscoverable location. Every time he sneezed here, his Knowledge increased.

Explore a new location? Knowledge points. Find another skeleton? More points. Discover a new species of herb? Even more points!

And so he had already reached Knowledge level 70. This despite his highest other skill reaching only level 24. That skill was, of course, Physical Attack. Whether he was shooting with a slingshot or stabbing with a spear, that stat always got some progress.

But it only received drops, not waterfalls as Knowledge did.

What could he do? Nothing. Meaning he had to literally do nothing. Exploring or discovering anything at this point would be unwise. Otherwise, he would earn more Knowledge points.

Tens of thousands of progress points, making Dark a shining star in the system’s player survey, a target of attention that would never blink out.

The unknown person or persons who had taken control of the NPC had urged him not to grow in any sudden fashion. In fact, they had told him to be as modest as possible, until his start skills reached level 10 at the least. Then, even if the game did notice him, it was unlikely to undo what he had achieved. It had asked Dark to make a choice about his abilities, after all. Apparently, it was not allowed to force a change, or at least not without certain procedures being followed.

He would listen to the mysterious voice. Dark had already bumped his abilities up to level 6, even though his character remained at level 5. Not a single mention of this possibility was to be found on the forum. It was indeed an anomaly thanks to the unfinished nature of his race. Early on in the project’s conceptualization, the developers had worked with a model with abilities that leveled like his. Then the Ethrians were scrapped, and a different system was introduced for everyone else.

This concealed at least one pleasant surprise for him. In theory, Dark could level up his skills as much as he wanted. They were start abilities, so they were less powerful than later abilities, but at high levels they could still be imbalanced.

Yet this mysterious stranger had not specified how Dark could get the soul essences needed to level his abilities. He didn’t even know where to find level 6 monsters, the level he needed to get the required soul essences. Ordinary zombies were level 7, and the most powerful hesh’ell was the queen. Of course, the queen was level 6.

But he would have to kill so many swarms, just to get to their juicy centers. And there was never more than one queen in a swarm. Charging in prematurely would bring the whole cloud of bugs down on his head.

So Dark had two primary tasks: first, finding new level 6 creatures which dropped soul essences, and second, avoiding attracting the game’s attention with too frequent pumps of his Knowledge skill.

How long would the first task take? He had no idea. Searching for new mobs would lead to numerous discoveries, boosting his damned Knowledge again.

But the second task was as clear as day. He’d need to change his way of living, for now. Sit quietly in the mine, craft new items, and stop exploring. All the while, he would slowly transfer the loot he had kept in dozens of hiding places around the map, in particular those near the site of Scorpions vs. Zombies.

* * *

Silver Ring with Yellow Topaz. Class: common. A simple craft by a novice artisan, made out of inexpensive material. It seems the previous owner cared little for his own hygiene and the welfare of his jewelry. Durability: 3/7. Item bonus: +1 Dexterity. Required level: 3. Approximate value: despite this item’s low quality of crafting and material, many merchants would be happy to buy it, but do not expect them to pay a lot.

The evaluation of the previous owner’s habits was on point. Dark had collected about one hundred and fifty assorted jewelry items from the bodies of the zombies. Mostly rings, but also earrings, necklaces, chains, pendants, bracelets for both wrists and ankles, and totems and amulets sewn into clothing. The bulk of these items was made of copper, bronze, and cheap gems. Some were silver, and very few were gold, with more valuable gems.

He took out his hammer and gave this ring a knock.

Silver Ring disassembled. You receive Silver Wire and Topaz Dust. Too bad! The topaz shattered along with its setting. +4 progress points received. +1 distributable progress point received.

Progress points distributed.

+2 Jewelry progress points.

+1 Stoneworking progress point.

+1 Random Items progress point.

Another stone ruined. This happened with annoying frequency. Sometimes the gems disappeared without a trace; other times, he received gem dust from them. This dust was a potential alchemical ingredient. Dark had more success with metal, but it was still often lost.

Evening was approaching, and he still had not disassembled everything he had carted to the tower. Tomorrow he would once again disassemble and craft, rinse and repeat, with occasional use of the furnace to smelt the tin and copper collected from the various items. Attempts at smelting iron had seen no success so far. His craft level was too low.

But boosting that level was going well. Dark had started his work day by spending 1,112 distributable craft skill progress points. Consequently, his Mastery Level had grown from 2 to 4. He might have raised it even more, but his conversation from the day before made him hesitant to take big leaps of progress.

Besides, these next couple of days would raise his Mastery Level even more. Many skills were boosted as he broke things down and crafted new things.

Alchemy was the only craft he dared not touch. Perhaps some hitherto-unknown potion would be created and drown him in a flood of Knowledge points. It wasn’t worth the risk.

Of course he would try it in the future, though. Otherwise what good was a high Knowledge level? He used the furnace for more than just metal; sometimes, he blew glass.

Tomorrow, in fact, he would try to focus on glass and make a few hundred vials for potions. But then he would set them aside for later.

The day after tomorrow would see the end of his crafting binge. Dark was gradually losing raw materials as he went through cycles of disassembling and crafting. Soon, he would be out. Plus, boredom was growing. It was already difficult for his psyche to endure out here all alone—hunching over an oven for days in a row like a slave might drive him crazy.

Something more interesting than the furnace dominated his plans for the day after tomorrow.

Chapter 42

Mob Boss

Total stat levels: 35 +2.

Character level: 5.

Mastery level: 4.

As the rat fell dead, Dark pulled up the loot screen. Even its hide had been ruined in the fight. Rat hides could only make poor-quality clothing, or second-rate leather if you had the necessary craft skill levels.

The farther he entered the bowels of the mountain, the more numerous the rodents became. Sadly, their levels ranged from 3 to 5, and Dark needed creatures of level 6.

But he was not here for the rats, nor for rocks and gems. He had some ideas about where he might search for the mobs he needed.

And he could kill two birds with one stone.

Summoning the translucent map now and again, he finally reached the area he was looking for. It was a dead end, but the air seemed fresh. He even felt a breeze. Strange mushrooms grew here, too. Dark picked some to investigate later, since they might have good alchemical properties.

The breeze was not a violation of the game’s realism—this tunnel only seemed to be a dead end. A narrow well was located here. It contained a wooden ladder that looked old but solid.

Hooking his pickax to his belt and grabbing his lantern with his teeth, Dark began to descend, counting the rungs as he went.

At the seventy-ninth rung down, a message appeared.

You have left the Omertis Copper Mine. Welcome to the Lower Level of the Omertis Copper Mine.

The map from the tower had been correct.

Eighty-four rungs down, Dark stepped onto a wide horizontal area. The mushrooms which had grown up above were prolific at this level. An ugly mold stained the walls. Even without his lantern, he might be able to navigate thanks to its acid-green luminescence, once his eyes adjusted. But it was nowhere near the brightness of the chitin brood’s illumination.

And nowhere near as pretty.

As he crouched over a pile of debris running along the wall, Dark realized that he was next to a skeleton clad in tattered clothes and a fancy mining helmet. The headwear was equipped with a concave copper mirror behind a wire candleholder. Searching the remains earned him a rusted iron level 7 pick, flint, a bonus, and a decent piece of rock crystal.

Clearly this was an Ethrian miner who had perished here long ago. And perhaps his demise, and the failure of others to reclaim his body, hinted at the danger level of this location.

Or maybe it hinted at nothing at all—the game was likely full of skeletons.

Dark studied the luminous mold on the wall. It was indeed suitable for alchemy, so he scooped some of it into the flasks he had brought along.

His gaze was captured by a light gray color near the mold. It looked like wax dripped from a burning candle. Drawing closer, he gained +1 Perception. Saltpeter! A raw material that was in high demand for explosives and transmutation work. The forum was filled with complaints of an acute saltpeter shortage. The price had skyrocketed. But there seemed to be plenty of the material here. Half a dozen deposits of the stuff were visible from here, and this was only a tiny piece of the mine.

After filling a few cells with saltpeter, mold, and copper ore, Dark proceeded. According to the map he was about three hundred yards from his target.

Before he reached half that distance, he stopped. Up ahead, he saw an ominously bright glow. It was greenish in hue, but a different green than the mold.

Moving his lantern behind him, he squinted, trying to let his eyes adjust and see the details. At first, he thought the glow was growing in intensity, but no.

It was growing in proximity. Getting closer to him.

Dark was becoming more certain by the minute that a new hostile creature was about to come into view. Something unlike anything he had encountered.

What sort of beast was coated in phosphorus?

His lamp had apparently caught the creature’s notice, and now it moved hastily towards him, stopping for nothing else.

Nervously twirling his pickax in his hand, Dark stood in the center of the mine, preparing to deal the creature a mighty blow upon its manifestation. These plans fell apart as the being approached.

It was no ordinary mob. And even without a description, it was clearly some otherworldly being, some magic phantasm.

A gleaming green ghost, adorned with the same type of mining helmet he had seen on the skeleton, flew across the mine without touching the floor. Thanks to the forums, Dark knew that these creatures had no susceptibility to ordinary weapons. Players carried special elixirs or magic items with them in case they encountered such beings. Mages had an easier time, as they had spells to deal with ghosts.

Dark had no magical weapon, but he did have a spell with complicated properties.

Stowing his pickax around his waist once more, Dark pulled out his knife and slashed his arm.

Now he was wounded, so his magic was activated.

Once the mob was five paces away, Dark hit it with Onslaught of Light, at maximum manage consumption.

The ghost emitted a flash so bright, he had to squint. Then, it melted into a shimmering puddle.

Note: Personal victory! Ethrian Miner’s Ghost killed! Common mob. Level 7. Location sensation level: 30%. Personal sensation level: 80%. Note: Phantasmal flying mob! You receive triple XP! +428 progress points received. Note: Phantasmal flying mob! Triple distributable progress points! 85 distributable progress points received.

The following skills played a significant role in this battle: Magic Accuracy.

+428 Magic Accuracy progress points.

Note: You have discovered a new creature: Ethrian Miner’s Ghost. Common mob. Level 7. Base XP: 70. Note: Note: Phantasmal flying mob! x3 base XP! Health: 505. Mana: 538. Stamina: 498. Aggression: aggressive. Magic abilities: Life Drain, Stamina Drain. Poison level: not poisonous. Chance of valuable loot: moderate. Description: An entity that arises from the remains of ancient Ethrian Miners, among the mold and the damp darkness. It mercilessly attacks all living things. Even inanimate objects may suffer from its aggression. Lives deep underground, in places where it can sense prey from a distance. Ethrian Miner’s Ghost cannot be harmed by ordinary weapons.

Note: No player in the history of X has ever encountered an Ethrian Miner’s Ghost! You receive +250 Knowledge progress points. You receive a bonus +1 to any skill. The leaders of the Explorers League may present you with a reward for adding creatures you have discovered from your personal bestiary to the league archives. Congratulations! Keep discovering new things to unlock more generous rewards!

More Knowledge points. Hopefully he had nothing to fear from them, since he had experienced no increase in Knowledge for two full days.

Plus, 250 progress points was a drop in the bucket when his level was 70. He needed three times that just to increase his Knowledge by 1.

When he searched the glowing pool, Dark discovered some Primitive Ectoplasm and a level 7 Soul Essence.

He needed level 6. No higher, no lower.

Was this trip into the mines in vain, or should he keep searching? After all, similar mobs might differ by one level, even when externally they seemed to be exactly the same. According to the map, this mine was immense. Miles and miles of tunnels, with room for hundreds and hundreds of ghosts.

Dark had an easy way to kill them. As the Ancient Evil had said, the Light could be a terrible force against certain kinds of creatures. Including ghosts. This one hadn’t even had a chance. The damage Dark had been able to deal it far exceeded its health points. In fact, there was no need for him to wait around for his Mana to regenerate before he proceeded. He would systematically scour the dungeon, blasting its green residents one after the other with beams of light.

Another one was on its way this very moment.

Perhaps he didn’t even have to search—they would fly over on their own! Either they had a patrol path, or they could somehow sense that a living creature was present.

Dark rose and winced as he slashed his arm again. The first wound had been too small: His hit points had already returned to full.

His ability may have been Light Magic, but the need to inflict self-harm gave it quite the dark twist.

Chapter 43

The First Task

Total stat levels: 35 +2.

Character level: 5.

Mastery level: 4.

Dark had been correct: the ghosts’ levels varied. Some were level 5, others level 6, and still more level 7. Other ghosts were larger, up to level 10, but they were a different type altogether, so they had given Dark another discovery bonus.

Along with the Knowledge boost.

In the central area of the underground complex, Dark encountered a new opponent: a stronger ghost of level 12. This one took a long time to defeat, unlike the others. It cast long-term debuffs on Dark and drained two-thirds of his hit points, as well as most of his Mana. And part of his armor’s Durability. The being’s Corrosion ability worked particularly well against copper and bronze.

Dark had to take a breather after the fight to let his meters refill. During the break, he hacked at the wall. Anywhere a ghost dwelt was a good bet for valuable materials in the wall. Perhaps some lingering memory or habit from life drew the ghosts to areas with high mineral concentrations. Several pieces of copper ore fell from one spot, rock crystal was common, and after the most recent, serious fight, Dark got his first bit of high-quality amethyst.

At last he decided to do something more productive than a full sweep of the mine’s depths. Returning to the place where he had encountered the first ghost, Dark walked the remaining two hundred yards to the map’s target, but slowed down towards the end. At the intersection of two large caves, another paranormal mob flickered with that familiar green. Unlike the others, this one acted like it was blind. They had quickly noticed Dark from far away, despite his absurdly high Stealth. But this being made no response.

He checked the map to make sure this was the right location. It was in the corner of the intersection that the cartographer had drawn a crude cross to mark the location of the stash. Perhaps the ghost was here to guard the hiding place.

Whoever wished to loot its contents would have to deal with the phantom first.

This being looked exactly like the one Dark had just nearly been defeated by. With a sigh, he pulled out some of the elixirs he had looted from the zombies. One increased his Health regeneration speed (5 points per second), and the other instantly reduced direct magic damage (by 10%). Chewing some River Lily Root he had cooked with spices from the city gained him +1 Endurance for a half hour. He repeated this for +2.

Steeling himself for the pain to come, he charged.

Note: Personal victory! Ancient Ethrian Oremaster Ghost killed! Common mob. Level 11. Location sensation level: 30%. Personal sensation level...

That was odd. The mob guarding the hiding place was a little weaker than the previous ghost as far as level was concerned, but this had not reduced the pain or intensity of the battle. Despite the elixirs and the food buff, Dark had suffered about the same amount.

In the typical green puddle left behind—besides the ectoplasm, soul essence, and a silver ring that was essentially worthless—Dark discovered a bronze key. He looked around for a potentially matching chest, but there was none to be found.

Carefully he combed the area where the map featured its dark cross, shifting around every last pebble. There it was: a barely noticeable keyhole in the wall.

The key slid into the lock.

Note: You have discovered an ancient moderate-level hiding place. Bonus: +150 Perception progress points, +50 Luck progress points.

Note: This is the first hiding place you have found. Bonus +1 to any base skill. Always pay attention to your surroundings! The world of X rewards you generously for finding its secrets.

Turning the key, Dark pulled it towards him, opening the skillfully hidden door. It truly was indistinguishable from the rock around it. Inside, he found 5 Lesser Modifiers and 14 heavy Silver Ingots.

He smiled at the find: the silver would be useful for jewelry and smithing. The modifiers would come in handy in the future, as well, for improving good-quality weapons and armor.

Now, would that future ever come?

Note: Ancient Hiding Place quest complete! +350 Perception progress points received.

Note: You have completed your first quest. Congratulations! Bonus: 500 distributable base skill progress points.

There—Dark had accomplished what he had come here to do. He had completed the quest from the tower scroll and found mobs with level 6 soul essences—all the way up to level 12.

However, he would have to spend a long time killing these ghosts. Perhaps a very long time. Leveling an ability from level 6 to 7 required 70 level 6 soul essences. Since they didn’t drop from every enemy and were strictly determined by mobs’ levels, Dark would have to eliminate about a hundred more ghosts.

That was only for one of his abilities, and he had three.

He had spent half a day killing mobs now and had cleared about one quarter of the lower level of the mines. That had obtained him 42 level 6 essences, 34 level 7s, 20 level 8s, 12 level 9s, 7 level 10s, 1 level 11, and 1 level 12. At this rate, he would likely destroy all of the cave mobs in two more days—and that would still leave one ability unleveled.

There was no telling how quickly the ghosts would respawn. The forum listed varying numbers for varying mobs, situations, and locations. Sometimes respawning took hours, sometimes days, and sometimes even weeks.

There was no telling until he tried.

Perhaps he would satisfy his need for level 6 soul essences here without spending too much time. But while many level 7 and 8 essences dropped as well, he needed more of them. The mold would consume him before he had enough time to harvest enough. There were simply too few mobs of the required levels here.

He had to go to the city. But there, unlike here, he could not challenge only one zombie without challenging them all. Running was impractical, as well—the horde would chase you to the very ends of X. Luring the creatures into the slag patches was the only know way of fighting them. But zombies didn’t drop soul essences when the chitin hunters killed them.

He had to kill them with his own hands. Even partymates could not get around this limitation. The forum was full of player complaints about how difficult it was to level abilities.

He could explore more territories, of course. Perhaps he’d find the ideal mobs, something that was easy to hunt. Like the hesh’ells: gathered in a huge heap, easily lured from their fellows, and wielding relatively painless attacks.

Exploring risked immense bonuses and a flag from the system. Assuming the voice that had taken over Ancient Evil had been telling the truth.

He might risk it, but not now. Boring cleansing of the mine it is, then. Getting the soul essences he need would take forever. If the ghosts all died out, he would grab his pickax and start pumping his mining skills and getting resources. Or switch back to crafting, just to keep some variety in life. He seemed safe from discovering anything new here, for the time being.

* * *

It took only fifteen minutes for him to realize how mistaken that sentiment was. A massive ghost surged at him from the edge of the cave, hitting him with a mortally painful spell. It was likely an elite mob: the boss of the mine’s lower level and an alluring target for players. Whole parties of them would together attempt to take him down in exchange for heaps of experience and valuable loot.

Dark had no party, and no prospect for one in the future. On his own, he was no threat to this boss. A complete sweep of the mine was now out of the question. That corner, at least, he would have to leave well alone.

Meaning his plans, already painfully protracted, would be slowed even further.

Chapter 44

Six Days Later

Total stat levels: 42 +2.

Character level: 7.

Mastery level: 5.

“Oooooo!” Dark watched the ghost approach and attempted a zombie-like moan.

The result was spot on.

After all, at this rate of growth, he’d become a zombie himself before long. He felt like one with all the repetition. Sieve after sieve of monotony. Mobs, ore, mobs, metal, mobs, anvil, mobs... His choice was between the damp depths of the mine and the smell of the furnace, pounded into his mind by the beating of his hammer on the anvil. Each was a place of rote repetition, and his only conversation partner was Ancient Evil, whose vocabulary was beyond vexing.

Evil was just a program, anyway, not a person. A life filled with talking to AIs would earn him a ticket to the asylum, if he still had any chance at avoiding that.

Raising his hand, Dark struck the approaching ghost with a dazzling arc of light that drained 100 Mana per second—enough to wipe out a few hundred hit points.

It was overkill, but Dark didn’t mind spending a little too much Mana.

Ghosts were everywhere, but by now he had assembled a special set of jewelry and armor suited to fighting them. Seven rings, in fact, plus a necklace, an earring, a bracelet, a light breastplate, and a chainmail glove, all of which together gave him +14 Intellect. Each of those fourteen points gave +25 to his max Mana meter. An additional two rings and some ankle and wrist bracelets added +5 Endurance, giving his max Health meter +125 points. Even the strongest ghosts here couldn’t deal with those numbers.

Well, except the strongest ghost. He gave that corner of the dungeon a wide berth. None of the other ghosts hung around in that area, anyway, so there was no reason to frequent it. The boss could wipe out his Health four times over with a single spell.

One hundred yards ahead, there was an interesting spot for his leveling needs. It was a strange intersection of five tunnels at once, and a ghost of level 11 or 12 always inhabited the area. The exact level varied from one respawn to the next. Unlike the others, this ghost did not move—it was guarding the place. After its defeat, it would reappear in about thirty hours. When it saw a living creature, it would act in a predictable manner, like all of the ghosts.

He had to kill it quickly. Once it was provoked, several other ghosts level 6 to 8 flew in from four of the other tunnels to help. Dark only had a chance to finish them off if he killed the big ghost before they attacked. One mistake, and he would be waking up back in the tower. This made him hesitant to visit it often.

But visit it he had to.

His Mana strip recharged, he rushed in.

* * *

Ten minutes later, he shuddered in pain as he searched the green puddles the losers had left behind. Despite his combat experience and good equipment, he had been beaten to a pulp. Too many small ghosts had rushed to the aid of their big brother. He had started fighting four at once, and by the end of the fight—just as he was starting to relax—three more had come.

And they weren’t even the end of it. Before the last of them was dead, another three had joined. Dark wasn’t quite close to death, but these former miners’ magic was nasty stuff. His wounds felt like they had been drenched in acid.

But he had beaten them.

Four level 9 soul essences in one go. That made for a total of 303. Three more than he needed to get all of his abilities to the coveted level 10.

As he was doing these simple calculations, he drew his pickax and starting going after a promising vein of ore. He continued thinking as he did.

Level 10 abilities was the key milestone. If the mysterious voice speaking through Ancient Evil was right, every tenth level added a qualitative improvement to abilities. For Ethrians, that should apply up to level 20.

Let’s see if the voice was right. It had been six days of monotonous hard labor and seeing green instead of black when he fell asleep at night as his dreams were consumed by a ranging sea of ghost magic acid that dissolved him again and again.

But always with too few level 9 soul essences. He had needed 210 level 8 essences, but level 9 was a serious jump. It had taken nearly a week.

Dark had not obtained any bonuses that would attract unwanted attention from the system during those days. That was the sole happy part of the whole endeavor. Living under the ground for so long was certainly not a happy part. Claustrophobia got to him even though he normally did not suffer from it, and lingering loneliness mixed with persistent pain. His psyche was starting to weaken.

Now, if it turned out that all of those efforts were in vain and that Dark’s skills simply leveled up without any dramatic improvement, he might just go mad.

So he stalled. He could have raised one of the skills a long time ago, after all. But he waited until he had the full 300 essences so that he could fully enjoy all of the bonuses he had earned during the days of toil.

Or else plunge into despair.

Opening his inventory, Dark began dragging essences onto his skill icons in batches, tapping the small check boxes in the confirmation dialogs that appeared. After a few seconds, he had only three level 9 cores remaining.

The icons flashed with their familiar light. Dark knew they would fade about a minute later. When they did, though, the Skill Tree appeared.

X’s skill system was complicated. Start abilities were practically worthless, and difficult to level in any normal style of play. Once your character reached level 10, you could choose a specialty, complete a related quest, and get a couple of decent abilities. Most players contented themselves with these abilities—obtaining others required magic books, which were too difficult or expensive to obtain. They were rare, obtained only from hard-to-reach chests or, occasionally, as drops from the most powerful bosses or as rewards from random complex quests. Due to their minimal supply and astronomical demand, dealers often charged a price high enough to buy a prestigious apartment in a decent megalopolis.

That didn’t mean that players attacked each other with nothing more than raw physical attacks and a pair of specialty icons.

After all, skills didn’t just level up, they also activated skill tree branches. Leveling up high enough let you select a more advanced ability. This didn’t merely upgrade the ability: It added a brand new ability for you, a new icon in its own slot. The new ability shared things in common with its predecessor, but also had unique aspects. These branches were leveled just like start abilities, and independently of one another.

An ability could branch several times, whether during normal leveling or by completing certain tasks. So one ability could become three—or even more. Thus, many players ended up with far more icons than two at their disposal.

This was where Dark found himself. All three skills reached level 10 and, in addition to the standard power boost when leveling up, gained new properties automatically. Each icon received above it a stylized icon of a branching tree. Now, Dark needed to select a branch for each ability. Then all of the others would disappear, and new icons would be at his disposal.

Examining the available options, he quickly concluded that there were not enough of them and that those which were available were, for the most part, useless, unless he simply lacked the experience to understand why he would want them. Sadly, he could not view the later options the game would offer for each branch. Nor did the forum elucidate anything, since start abilities were not even discussed there. It was the norm to avoid developing these abilities in the world of X: They were too weak to spend time and energy on.

As he continued mindlessly chipping away at the cave wall, Dark stepped through each branch and selected the best.

His starting skill now looked as follows: Avalanche of Feeling, Level 10. Active skill. Activating this skill increases sensation by 200%. Magic energy cost: 75. Duration: 40 seconds. Activating this skill for 40 seconds restores your Stamina to 100%. Cooldown: 45 minutes.

Now Dark was able to use this ability not just to gain extra XP but also to recover Stamina, at the expense of a small amount of Mana. That might come in handy.

The branch ability of Avalanche of Feeling was aptly named “Suffering.” Activating this skill increases the target’s sensation by 200%. Magic energy cost: 100. Duration: 10 seconds. Cooldown: 0.5 hours. Note: If the player has not enabled “Accept negative effects, including those which increase painful sensations,” their level of sensation will not increase.” In this case, if the target is an ally, the only effect will be an increase in experience received. If the target is an enemy, they will receive a different negative effect, including disorientation, partial or complete sensory shutdown, partial or complete paralysis, seizures, or temporary unconsciousness. Monsters and NPCs receive similar effects. If the target is affected by pain factors while Suffering is acted, the duration of Suffering may increase in proportion to the potential pain. Note: If the target is not affected by pain factors at all, there is a chance that this ability will not have any effect.

Suffering was clear enough: a debuff with a long cooldown time. Once per half hour, he could spend 100 Mana for a good 10-second control ability. The target would be unable to flee, attack, or even defend itself in most of the listed states. If they had that option checked, they would also scream in pain—and possible suffer a real-life problem with their neurosynth links. Assuming the enemy was taking some kind of damage during the ability’s duration.

At character level 1, Dark had received Stream of Regeneration. Now that it was at level 10, he could recover exactly 10 Health per 1 Mana spent. Plus, there was a new effect—and an increased cooldown time: Remove randomly 1 negative effect from self, an ally (or pet of an ally), or a neutral character (or pet of a neutral character). Cooldown: 15 seconds. Quite useful: He would live in less fear of mobs like the tougher ghosts with their long-acting debuffs.

The branched ability from Stream of Restoration was called “Pillar of Light.” When this ability is activated, the target gains 100 Health, plus an additional 100 Health regenerated evenly over 10 seconds. Magic energy cost: 100. Cooldown: 2 seconds. Another healing spell, but more costly. However, the cooldown was so quick that it was good for casting a couple of times in a row if he had to flee the battle. It would enable him to withstand a few attacks to his rear. Even if he was paralyzed, the delayed 100 Health would increase his chances of surviving past the control effect’s duration. Perhaps there were other use cases. At any rate, that was the best option Dark could see from those often.

The most interesting development was that received by Onslaught of Light, the offensive ability he had obtained at level 3. Now it drained 8 Health per unit of Mana spent, and in addition, its maximum range jumped to 15 meters. It also gained a control effect: any target hit with it had a 5% chance of being blinded for 2 seconds. The ability’s cooldown was now precisely 10 seconds.

But that was all insignificant compared to the branch unlocked for Onslaught of Light: “Possessed by Light.”

Active skill. Spend all Mana, or a part of it, as determined by the caster, to charge a weapon or a consumable that deals damage with pure Light Magic. Successful attacks with the charged item will not only deal physical damage but also one-time Light Magic damage. Note: A magic weapon can be charged with this ability, but this effect will only activate when an attack physically contacts the enemy.

Level 10. Every 1 point of charge deals 3 Health points of damage. Cooldown: 30 seconds. This effect lasts 20 minutes. When this duration expires, the item loses all charge.

Dark read the description another three times, trying to find the catch. It seemed to be exactly what he thought from the start.

Picking up the closest stone he could find, he used Possessed by Light on it, spending 100 Mana. The stone flickered slightly, and then a countdown was added to it, including potential damage dealt by the magic energy it now held.

In theory, if Dark threw this stone at an enemy, it would take some tiny amount of physical damage plus 300 Light Magic damage.

Tossing this at a regular ghost would take most of its hit points. And he could attack from any distance: the skill’s description did not forbid projectiles from being possessed.

Actually, he doubted it would work on ghosts. Arrows, stones, and so on just flew through them, without dealing any damage at all.

But with other creatures...

It seemed this world had no resistance mechanic against Light Magic. So, if the damage dealt varied from case to case, the variance would be minimal. A significant level difference would reduce it, but that was only about a 25% reduction for every 100 levels of difference. Dark would never approach mobs which were that much more powerful than he.

His natural Intellect was now 12, and his items gave that a bonus +14. Every point of Intellect added +25 max Mana. That plus his 50 starting Mana and the 50 gained with each character level gave him a total of exactly 1000 Mana.

Pouring all of that into an arrow would make that arrow about to knock out 3000 of the opponents Health in a single blow.

Impressive. This was what the stranger had meant by being “imba,” short for “imbalanced.” With this ability, only elites and bosses could scare Dark. Any mob, up to level 35 or so, was now vulnerable to his new ability. One blow from an arrow, assuming he hit.

Of course, even if he did hit, he would have to do so from a place of safety. After all, his Mana regenerated at a paltry 7 per minute. A full refill would take 2 hours and 23 minutes. Meaning that he couldn’t mow down a dozen huge mobs in a day. Sure, big mobs granted lots of experience, but he could get much more for killing two or three hundred low-level ghosts.

So it wasn’t a life changer for him, but still, he couldn’t shake the scent of opportunity.

He would think carefully about how to take advantage of Possessed by Light.

All the while, he would be reevaluating his character leveling strategy. The ghosts would be unable to provide Dark with soul essences of the levels he needed. He would need to find a source of mobs at levels 11 and 12. And lots of them. His abilities required more and more soul essences with each level. Plus, now he had six abilities to work on, not just three.

Sadly the branch abilities were not leveled along with their foundational abilities. Their progress was now completely separate.

Chapter 45

The Second Task

Total stat levels: 42 +2.

Character level: 7.

Mastery level: 5.

The hut did not seem to be abandoned. Yes, the logs had been darkened with time, and the roof was clearly not new. Everything was overgrown with moss. But none of the desolation of centuries of abandonment was visible. Even the grass leading up to the door seemed recently trampled.

Dark was used to bad surprises by now, so he made no move to hurry out of his place in the undergrowth.

For fifteen minutes, he had moved along the edge of a sparse oak forest. The path that ran around the city had led him here. It had started out as a serious paved road. Then, it had dwindled into a dirt road, and then a forest path, and then almost nothing. Only the absence of bushes and frequent notches in the trees on either side continued to evidence its presence.

He had encountered none of what he was searching for—mobs levels 10 and up—on the road or in the forest. Just rabbits, squirrels, deer, and one wild boar. Those provided hides, meat, and bones, but none of the soul essences he needed.

This hut was the first interesting place.

It was likely Ethrian.

Dark received a bonus for discovering a new location. Nothing about the location name seemed ominous, but that meant little. The hut could be empty, or his death could be waiting within. He didn’t want to risk teleporting back yet. He charged another arrow with Possessed by Light. 100 Mana. That was enough to take down most level 7 mobs in a single shot. If the opponent was more serious, Dark’s Mana reserve was full enough to win with other methods.

Of course, if the opponent was much more serious, nothing could help him.

Bow at the ready, he circled the hut and looked into its tiny windows. It was too dark, and the windows too dull, to see anything. The dust of time had fogged up the windows, and if there was a current owner, he did not take time to clean them.

Should I just pass by? Anything truly dangerous inside would send Dark back, a hard hour’s walk away from here. But how could he pass up a house?

A massive wooden door often held great treasures behind it.

It creaked so loudly that he feared the zombies in the city would hear him and start their endless pursuit. No one rushed to attack him. He stepped inside, and began to relax.

The house was one large room, so there were no hidden corners nor hallways. No skeletons, no zombies, no monsters. Just rough wooden furniture, everywhere covered in dust. The only strange element in the place was the hefty boulder in the center of the room.

Wait... on that table, in the middle of those empty bottles... Yes! It was a sheet of parchment covered in mysterious scribbles!

Dark would, of course, read it right away.

Sitting on a wobbly stool, he ran his eyes across each and every character. A message appeared, but not the one he expected.

You have read the following letter:

“Kavira, you promised to return before one day has passed, but it has been a week. It seems the demons have taken you. I did not agree to this. I’ve had enough. I’m leaving this cursed house. And I don’t give a damn about all those degenerates. Let them die in their holes and be eaten by worms, or by each other. I have covered the place with a stone so that they cannot escape. Now the cellar will be the farthest they can get. I wish you nothing but nightmares. Goodbye forever, you fool.

P.S. I drank all of your pisspoor brew in one shot. Thank you. I wouldn’t have survived a week in this shithole if I was sober. But you’re going to have to try now!

Note: You have read an ancient note and unlocked a quest: Secret of the Locked Hatch. To complete this quest, find out what secret the hatch is hiding. Quest Reward: +100 Luck progress points. Do you accept the quest?

Yes/No.

Without hesitating, Dark selected Yes. He was already in the house. It would be stupid to leave without seeing what was in the basement. It seemed, of course, that the relatives of this ancient Kavira were there. But he’d get a good Luck boost, and perhaps the “degenerates” would have turned into zombies or something similar.

He hoped they were level 11, or higher.

* * *

After killing another mob, Dark found himself agreeing with the author of the note. These had been degenerates. He cursed Kavira and her spawn, all ugly, stupid creatures. And smellier than pigs. Instead of digging out of the basement, to the surface, they had dug a system of tunnels in the basement that required him to nearly crawl. They had done nothing over the centuries, it seemed, except for expanding the dungeon under the house, covering it with luminous mold, and breeding vigorously in its greenish glow. He had killed thirty-six of them now, and still they came. One woman could not have possibly produced so many monsters, so they must have gotten busy on their own.

They had grown too fat on the “worms and each other” and had difficulty pursuing Dark through the narrower tunnels. He showered them with arrows and magic as he retreated and took hardly any damage himself. Much less damage than with the ghosts, at least. His gag reflex was growing tiring.

All of the mobs he encountered were the same, down to their inbred facial features, and their levels ranged from 5 to 7.

This was clearly a location for starting players. He would need to find another place.

Still, he had discovered new mobs, and that was worth some bonuses. They had been predictably named “Kavira’s Degenerates.” Each bonus from these discoveries added something to a skill and to his immense Knowledge.

Wait, what is that? The tunnel ended in a small chamber with a comparably large chest standing in its center.

Note: You have discovered an ancient moderate-level hiding place. Bonus: +50 Perception progress points, +10 Luck progress points.

The game always rewarded its players.

Dark opened the chest and at last received the quest ending he had been yearning for.

Note: Secret of the Locked Hatch quest complete! +100 Luck progress points received.

The chest contained a pouch of 17 silver coins and a Superb Invincibility Potion. Its level requirement was 7, so Dark could use it right now. The potion gave its consumed total protection: neither damage nor debuffs could harm him for its duration. And that duration was a full 12 seconds.

There was no need to search every nook and cranny. He might find a few more degenerates. What of it? They would just be a waste of time. He had bigger quarry. Somewhere.

Chapter 46

Deceitful Eyes

Total stat levels: 42 +2.

Character level: 7.

Mastery level: 5.

The oak forest ended. A message notified him of his new location: Shallow Slope. That provided no helpful hints whatsoever. Crouching in the shade by the edge of the new location, he studied it. The gentle descent justified its name and ended at an elongated lake. He could not see the far ends of the body of water to the left or right, but the opposite shore was quite visible. A tall, rocky cliff rose over the water on that side. It looked like a continuation of the cliff he had flown off of several times.

No mobs were in sight, save a rabbit slipping through the grass.

In fact, there was nothing suspicious, nor even notable. Dark headed for the water. As his altitude dropped, some things formerly hidden came into view, in particular, ruins on the far side. They were not of a full city, but nor were they just a dilapidated cottage. Something like a small castle, a palace, or perhaps a temple. Evil spirits liked such places, so he might have a good chance of finding the mobs he needed there.

Or at least some new discoveries.

Dark headed along the coast. Along the way, he checked the description of his loaded arrow. Its charge still had eleven minutes to go, and he would likely reach the ruins well before that. But charging another arrow was a good idea—there was no telling what might be waiting for him there. The lake was suspiciously gloomy and devoid of living things. Although the water was pure enough to see every pebble at the bottom, nothing could be seen moving. No algae, no moss, no slime, no bugs. Certainly no fish. Despite the windless weather of the day, he failed to notice a single ripple on the surface, some sign of something breaking it.

The lake was lifeless. Of course, the opposite was potentially true: something so mighty could live in this lake that it killed everything else, all while staying invisible itself.

Dark emerged into the valley by a stunted stream that flowed into the lake. He drank from it, then climbed the slope behind which he had seen the ruins. His estimate that they were two or three hundred yards away proved correct.

But at the height of the hill, he saw many details he could not before. It seemed very much like a fancy temple. Shaped like a fancy, twisted clam shell. Dark couldn’t think of anything analogous to it from Earth’s architectural samples. Though the main building was about the size of a football stadium, it was only part of the whole complex. Dozens of more modest structures sat adjacent, and among them all, numerous cobblestone roads branched out in a wild labyrinth. The complex had no walls, but it was surround by three perfectly circular rings made up of long, skinny stone pillars. Between these rings lay two narrow trenches filled with water that had an abnormal blackness to it.

Yet Dark only appreciated all of this ancient architectural beauty out of the corner of his eye. All of his attention was focused towards the shore between the temple and the lake. What he saw there, by a twisted pier, made his heart beat five times faster than usual.

He even started drooling in shocked stupor.

In the shallow water, he saw a person. It looked as though the man wanted to swim but was too scared to dive headlong into the cold water.

He was close enough to be able to tell that it was a young woman. And she had an absurdly attractive figure. Pleasantly wide hips, a thin waist, moderately large buttocks, all partially covered with a luxurious head of black hair that hung down to just below her tailbone. Her arms were spread apart and bent at the elbows, as if she was preparing to dive.

Dark had left Kim’s hospitality twenty-seven days ago. That period had been hell, of course. What had ensued had not exactly been heaven, but it had been better.

Yet it had also been without any contact. He had never seen another soul. The Ancient Evil didn’t count. It was just an AI. Like Friday for Robinson Crusoe, it provided only a mildly entertaining conversation partner.

Dark was disinclined to ascetic living. And he had deeply felt the lack of normal social interaction.

Plus, to put it bluntly, he had not been around a woman for that whole time, either. Had not even so much as seen a picture of one.

So his surprise was immense.

He walked forward without even noticing his legs move. Half of the way down, he woke up to the fact he was moving, but this made him move all the faster. The only thought that was generated by his upper brain, rather than the one between his legs, was this:

Where could a girl like this have come from?

The unsettling whisper was quickly silenced by a wave of joy that he was obviously no longer alone. Breaking into a run, Dark rushed until he stopped at the edge of the water, only a dozen paces from the gorgeous stranger. It was then that he realized she was not, in fact, so pretty. At his distance, he began to see new things. One second or two later, his obsession would have dissipated, and he would have realized the depths of his delusion.

But he didn’t have time—the girl turned around.

Her spin was abnormally swift, with an inhuman grace. A bony skull, plastered unevenly with revolting mucus, stared back at Dark. Here and there, messy strands of long hair covered her horrible face and equally horrible body.

Her beautiful back side—when admired from afar—was hidden by her hideous front. She had no hint of breasts, nor even a chest, and under her translucent skin, he saw dark green blood vessels showing through, intertwined around entrails of the same color.

All hints of sexual arousal were completely gone. Perhaps permanently.

So this is the fabled cause of impotence.

Still, it was not easy for Dark’s body to switch to clear head so quickly. While he hesitated, the unknown creature extended both her hands into the air, spreading her fingers to reveal the webbed membranes between them. The air darkened from billions of water droplets that emerged from nowhere.

All of them flew at Dark.

He screamed, jumping back reflexively. The feeling was akin to having boiling water poured on his flesh. So painful, so traumatic, that none of the damage and debuff figures pouring into his vision registered.

His scream was still going when a new wave of pain took things from bad to worse.

Were Dark an ordinary player, he would be immobilized. But he was used to many unique things, including pain. As he continued screaming, he managed not just to back away but to full-on run away. After a few steps he turned around, hopped to the side to dodge the next magical attack, and rushed up the hill. He was blinded now: his vision had stopped just after the fight began. The game calculated that his eyes were burned beyond usefulness.

Now the pain began to recede slowly, and his vision began to improve. Still he ran, praying to the gods of the game and there were no stones or other obstacles in his way. If he stumbled, a volley of boiling water would collapse on him once again.

Now, his eyes had returned to normalcy, but at that instant his worst fears were realized, and he tripped. Flying a few feet in the air, at last he crashed into the ground. The impact improved his eyesight, and he stopped to look around, to make sure he was not mistaken. The mob was just behind him, its extremely large feet slapping on the grass. Dark leaped up and snatched his two charged arrows from his quiver, took one in each hand, and shouted as he rushed the decelerating mob.

The woman waved her arms again, summoning a new world of unbearable torment.

But Dark dove under it, rolling away at the last minute. He felt the stones digging into his back and side as he did, but when he stood, he plunged one arrow into the beast’s fish eye and the second into its chest, to where its black heart beat among the network of green.

Gurgling in confusion, the mob stumbled backwards and its legs gave way. Forgetting about magic, Dark seized his heavy ax with both hands and swung as hard as he could into the creature’s head.

Note: Personal victory! Water Raisha Common mob. Level 11. Location sensation level: 40%. Personal sensation level: 90%. Note: Water mob. You receive double XP! Penalty for killing the enemy outside of its natural environment: -50% bonus. +415 progress points received. Note: Water mob. Double distributable progress points! Penalty for killing the enemy outside of its natural environment: -50% bonus. +83 distributable progress point received.

The following skills played a significant role in this battle: Athletics, Heavy Weapons, Physical Attack, Acrobatics, Speed, Tolerance, Luck, Magic Accuracy, Magic Damage Resist, Debuff Resist.

Progress points distributed.

+24 Athletics progress points.

+46 Heavy Weapons progress points.

+37 Physical Attack progress points.

+44 Acrobatics progress points.

+99 Speed progress points.

+17 Tolerance progress points.

+4 Luck progress points.

+121 Magic Accuracy progress points.

+17 Magic Damage Resist progress points.

+6 Debuff Resist progress points.

Note: You have discovered a new creature: Water Raisha. Common mob. Level 11. Base XP: 110. Note: Water mob! x2 base XP! Health: 720. Mana: 990. Stamina: 670. Aggression: aggressive, socially aggressive. Magic abilities: Water Element Magic Damage, Blinding, Panic, Reduce Dexterity. Poison level: unknown. Chance of valuable loot: moderate. Description: a large creature that is a descendant of darker days. Can use its back to cloud the minds of players whose Lust exceeds their Perception, wooing them. But once the raisha turns to face you, you will immediately know it as one of X’s most disgusting creatures. Dwells on the approaches to Black Blood Temple, which it often visits, since it needs the oil left in the temple’s circular trenches. Attacks everything it sees. For this reason, very little else can live in the Black Blood Temple region.

No player in the history of X has ever encountered a Water Raisha. You receive +250 Knowledge progress points. You receive a bonus +1 to any skill. The leaders of the Explorers League may present you with a reward for adding creatures you have discovered from your personal bestiary to the league archives. Congratulations! Keep discovering new things to unlock more generous rewards!

720 hit points? He would have to save up his Mana! And charge up his arrows.

Dark tried to read the standard message, but could not deal with the pain. It throbbed throughout him, though its edge was growing dull. As his eyes filled with tears, he failed to realize some suspicious movement at the edge of his field of view.

Even when he turned, he had to blink to try to get the details. Three ugly creatures were rushing him, from the lake.

The front two were already waving their arms at Dark, casting their covering of boiling water.

Chapter 47

Difficult Thoughts

Total stat levels: 42 +2.

Character level: 7.

Mastery level: 5.

The Ancient Evil floated in his favorite impossible spot among the shelves. “You used to work till sunset, or go out and commit mass killings, but now you’re spending the day sitting. Who but you will open Ethria to the world? Not I! The Ancient Evil has no business doing such a thing. Why are you hanging your head like that? Who has harmed you, miserable mortal?”

“No one. I’m just tired of all of it,” Dark replied. “Every last bit of it.”

“Everything? When these situations arise, it is best to divide them into small pieces and examine each of those with great care. In one of them, you will find what is troubling you.”

“I’ve been here for a month without talking to a single person. Here I am, some stranded explorer, some Robinson Crusoe. You’re here, but you’re about as helpful for conversation as Friday.”

“I’m no Friday. I am the Ancient Evil. You should be proud! Converse with me, then, mortal. I will permit it.”

“Sorry, Evil. You’re great, but you’re just a piece of code, not a human.”

“But that does not prevent us from communicating.”

“You’re right. It’s just... not good enough. And there’s nothing that can fix that.”

“You never said who harmed you. But the offense they have caused is obviously significant.”

“I got killed by mobs.”

“That happens here. But why are you so depressed this time? You’ve been killed before.”

“New mobs. They deceived me from afar—I thought they were women. Beautiful, naked women.”

“Ah, no need to say any more. Your blood rushed to your... head, and you ran off to acquaint yourself with this beautiful stranger. Yes? But when she turned, suddenly she was not so beautiful. You should have seen the first iterations! Erotic replicas of the hottest models—but only from behind. The very first was attractive from the front, too. The raishae were created as NPCs for a long quest chain. Public content restrictions imposed from on high made them reduce the allure of the creatures somewhat. And the developers were too distracted by the models to get on with development! But the new raishae are still very much beautiful. As long as they are far away, and with their backs turned.”

“I figured that much out too late.”

“It won’t happen again. You have experience now. This is the nonsense that has you so upset?”

“No. It’s the math, pure and simple.”

“You are confusing me, mortal. Math? How did math manage to harm you?”

“If I follow my old plans, I now must develop not three skills but six. All of the branches level up separately. Boosting an ability from level 0 to level 10 takes 550 cores. But getting from level 10 to level 20 takes 1550 cores. And that’s just for one ability. I have six of them! The higher the levels get, the more powerful the mobs I have to kill. In order to get those three skills to level 10, I spent nearly a week underground. Those ghosts still visit me in my nightmares. Now I have to kill the raishae, and they’re not easy. Every step is harder than the last. A week in the mine won’t be enough. It will take me months to reach level 20 skills. And the loneliness is starting to get to me. Mobs, ore, crafting, more mobs, more ore, more crafting. Day in and day out. I’m a human, not a machine!”

“I understand. So don’t level up your skills, then. Just dedicate your efforts on leveling your character.”

“I thought about that. But these skills are the only thing that can save my character from being permanently stunted. If the forum is right, teleport scrolls are not easy to come by. For players under level 50, they’re about as common as flowering apple groves in Antarctica. I really only have a good chance of finding one if I’m level 70 or so. So I calculated everything. Distributable skill levels and progress points included. If I distribute all of them in a maximally effective way, I won’t even reach level 30. And this is the early stages of character development. This is the easy stuff. You see what I’m getting at?”

“You spent a whole month slaving away, yet still you cannot reach even level 30.”

“Right. Some player named Bilik reached level 50 in less than a month, but I’m doing much worse, even in locations that no one has discovered before.”

“You sleep a lot. And you talk a lot. Even for a mortal, you’re lazy. Miserable slave of the light. You should be glad, you know.”

“Why?”

“Any player would give up anything to be in your position. Isn’t that a reason for gladness?”

“My position has plenty of cons.”

“For example?”

“I don’t have access to good equipment. I’m leveling solo, not in a party. No one is around to give me any quests. And I can’t spend real-world money. All of the rapid development paths provided to players are unavailable to me. I thought pumping my abilities would help speed things up, but now it turns out that they’re even more work. I have to kill about fifteen thousand mobs between levels 11 and 20. What’s worse, that’s an increasing number, so I need about two times more level 20s than I do level 11s. I can kill a mob a minute or so. But I don’t know any locations where mobs like that congregate. So, I have to spend a bunch of time moving around, looking, exploring; a bunch more time letting my Stamina, Health, and Mana recharge; and a part of the time repairing my low-quality weapons and armor. Trips back from respawn need to be accounted for, too, since they’re guaranteed to happen now and then. Plus, I need to sleep, eat, and do crafting, or else I’ll be fighting naked and empty-handed. All of that multiplies the time required by ten, at best. Fifteen thousand minutes, multiplied by ten, divided by sixty minutes per hour, and twenty-four hours per day, gives me a total of three and a half months just to get all my skills up to level twenty. And that’s not even all! After that, I’ll need to level up my character and find a damned teleport scroll. I always thought I had nerves of steel, but it turns out I was overestimating myself.”

“Too many words!” the Ancient Evil mocked. “Some of what you said, I do not understand why you said it. Other things you said contradict the plain facts of the situation. Clever beings understand these facts, but you clearly are not among that class. Miserable creature of mortal fate...”

“What facts?”

“How can you not see? You said you know of no location where the mobs you need roam in great numbers. But that is false. You are, as always, a liar.”

“What place do you mean?”

“The city ruins. You despicable liar. You know there are many mobs there!”

“What good are they to me? You touch one of them, you rouse a thousand. And there are far too few zombies there of levels 19 and 20. Instead, there are magicians of all sorts, but they are levels 30 to 40. Even if I live by the city walls and start taking them out, that will take a long time, and will not get me enough soul essences. In order to reach level 20, I’d have to kill the entire city several times.”

“What does the Ancient Evil care for your tears and your moans? I was simply pointing out a falsehood in your speech.”

“Alright, alright, you can call me a foolish mortal again.”

“I am glad you are beginning to admit it. Intelligent self-criticism is something I truly respect. You are not hopeless. You are simply agitated, and that harms your ingenuity. In other words, it increases the incidence of errors in your judgment.”

“I need to talk to someone. Only once since coming here have I spoken with a human. It wasn’t the best of conversational situations. But it was better than nothing.”

“Are you referring to that time when someone illegally used their technical access to the system to take control of me and talk with you?”

“I am. I would like to speak with them again, but I don’t know how.”

“You have no way to summon this human again. You will only be able to speak with him if he so desires, assuming he still has the requisite access.”

Dark blinked. “What did you say?”

“Even you should understand this without me needing to repeat myself! You cannot summon this human again. Only he can initiate the conversation. If he wishes.”

“I think I know how to make him wish it.”

“Interesting. How can a character stuck in Ethria make someone contact him without even knowing that person’s nickname? Tell me more.”

“I have a chat window filled with general communication. System messages about game events. Records and achievements made by various players are published there. For example... Goddammit! What the hell? He’s everywhere. It’s like he’s mocking me!”

The Ancient Evil blinked in confusion. “I fail to follow your train of thought.”

“I lost my train of thought. I wanted to give you an example message, but then I saw that he’s here again...”

“Who?”

“Listen: Alert: The player DimaBilik has, for the first time in the history of X, crossed the Hatfield Ice Shelf and completed the quest Last Acolyte of Imrizis, which was considered unbeatable. A great achievement worthy of the history books! This is DimaBilik’s third unique accomplishment. He receives a Hero’s Star he may add to his name, along with any inscription he selects! DimaBilik has selected, “Fear not. I am only your god!” Congratulations, hero! Continue achieving great feats and you will be rewarded! Do you understand, Evil?”

“As I was saying, you and I have difficulties understanding one another. You jump from one topic to another, without concerning yourself with logical connections. Your head is so filled with garbage that you too easily drown in it.”

“This is the player who cleared 50 levels in less than a month.”

“I understand that much. But why does his achievement matter? Is the competition really so important to you?”

“No, not at all. I just wanted to read you an example achievement, and lo and behold, it’s DimaBilik. Quite the coincidence, isn’t it?”

“I understand that this is a coincidence. But why do I care for the text of this achievement? Neither you nor I have anything to gain from it.”

“All players see the posts in red. Even I see them, despite being stuck here without access to chat rooms and messaging. It’s like I don’t exist—except that I can read those announcement messages. Well, the man who spoke to me advised me to keep my head down. He likely assumes I’m doing this. That I am keeping my level growth slow and limiting the advancement of more difficult skills by taking minimal advantage of unknown locations.”

“His assumption is correct, then. That is what you are doing,” Ancient Evil remarked.

“You’re right. But what if I started doing the kinds of things that were often selected for the red announcement chat? My nickname would be immediately noticed. I’m basically a celebrity in the world of X—everyone has been searching for me for a month now. This person then would realize I was not sitting like a mouse in his hole—that I was doing the sorts of thing that earn praise in this game-wide communication channel. One message. Two. Three. Ten. He would have to speak with me. And this time, I know what questions to ask.”

“Have you leveled up your Alchemy?” the Ancient Evil asked, out of nowhere.

“No. Only Knowledge has leveled up significantly. I spent a little bit of free experience on the rest of the Alchemy skills in order to raise that stat to 2.”

“You should have been working on it. You need Alchemy. Level it up and craft yourself a Potion of Heal Megalomania. Do it quickly, while there is still hope!”

“I guess you do have a sense of humor after all.”

“Ancient Evil has everything.”

“You’re saying that it’s difficult to get a mention in the red announcement chat.”

“More than ‘difficult.’ In order to be announced, you must do something no one has ever done before.”

Dark pointed out the window.

“This is uncharted territory, no matter which direction I take. In this land, I cannot take a single step without doing something that no one has done before.”

“That’s true. However, the system only pays attention to the most significant acts. And your acts, despicable mortal, are far from significant. You must accomplish a real feat, not just clip the wings of some hesh’ells. Now, killing the lich that defeated the chitin elite in single combat, that would be something.”

“He hit me for more than 6000 Health in a single blow!”

“So, you are too wise to heed the advice of the Ancient Evil? What good are petty deeds? Of course you cannot be lauded as a hero without doing something heroic. This is a very difficult task. Impossible for you. Players use their accumulated game experience in order to accomplish such feats. You have no such experience, and by my calculations, you never will.”

“But the player from that message didn’t have any, either. He’s only been playing about a month longer than I have.”

“You’re funny. And naive. His character may have been created recently, but there is a biological creature behind the character. A human. This person may have played from the release date until the creation of DimaBilik, observing opportunities in the game that could only truly be exploited at lower levels. He may have even obtained access to some insider information. Much money changes hands in the world of X. Anything can happen. Anyone who achieves excellent results from the start is most likely someone with a large amount of experience. All they did is start a new character. A fresh start. A new leaf. A third life, if you will. Like being born all over again, but with the knowledge of an adult. These are clever people. And we have already established that you are not among them.”

“But I have this massive territory with many bonuses. I am the only one with access to it. They do not have opportunities like this.”

“And how do those bonuses help you? Most of them don’t help you level up. You are inexperienced, you have no access to the market, and you fight in improvised copper pipe armor.”

“I need to talk to a human,” Dark grunted.

“Then you should level up your Alchemy.”

“Joking around again?”

“A joke told twice ceases to be funny, mortal. No, level up your Transmutation, and you can create Communication Crystals. Then you can communicate with some morally decent players and explain you have been kidnapped and trapped in virtual reality. Then, they will inform law enforcement, and the authorities will rescue you.”

“I doubt it...”

“You mean that you are unlikely to survive after so much time in the game? Don’t worry about that. As long as medical controls and personnel are in place, you will survive.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about. I can’t even remember my name, you see. Some sort of memory block. I have tried to get around it, but I cannot. So, let’s say I somehow contact other players, and somehow prove to them I’m not just an idiot. And that I manage to communicate my identity to them. The police come and get me. Except that’s not what I want. The police are looking for me.”

“You’re a criminal?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“Then why are the police looking for you?”

“Complicated life circumstances.”

“Can you prove your innocence?”

“That would be difficult. I was a student, just out of high school. I went with some fellow students to a protest. A peaceful assembly—there was no other sane choice. But some freak started throwing junk at the police who had cordoned the area off. Things escalated from there. I got somebody away from there who had a serious reaction to the tear gas. That made me part of the club. They were ordinary guys, you see, just with too many stupid ideas in their head. And drugs, at times, you know. I was having money troubles at the time, but they invited me to join them at their place, which seemed like a commune. That meant a roof over my head and food for tough times. So, one day, I was sitting in class, and I got a message that our spot had been raided. One of the freaks in charge had a little room there he had turned into a lab. For making bombs. He was always into botany and chemistry, so I think he was just playing around. Or maybe that wasn’t even what he was doing, and he was just collecting a bunch of garbage and hitting up all the social media networks with jokes or threats about how he was a terrorist and all. The police don’t take kindly to jokes like that. In fact, most countries have a department that’s much more powerful than the police and handles all terror cases. Very serious stuff. The day before the raid, I had helped the guy bring in a couple of heavy boxes. I don’t know what was in those boxes, but it looked like something mechanical. And I don’t mean vacuum cleaners. My fingerprints were found on the boxes, and plus witnesses had seen me hanging around. Besides the fact that I lived there. Enough evidence to put me away for a long time. So I had to disappear. Go underground.”

“So explain to them that you had nothing to do with it.”

“Now it’s your turn to be the naive one, Evil. My country isn’t a bad place to live, on the whole. But it has issues. Serious issues. For example, our courts rarely release anyone. An arrest warrant is basically a conviction. Plus, I’ll lose a lot of time leveling up my Alchemy, and the results will be uncertain. My head really is a mess right now. I don’t know what to do next.”

“You said they carted you off to a different country. So that means a different police force, different security services, and so on, with no interest in you.”

“I think that as soon as the local police find out who I am, things will go downhill quickly. Best case scenario, I return to my home country, with a bag over my head. And they give me up to the people looking for me. Worst case, they shoot me on the spot as an evil manufacturer of explosives for terrorists.”

“You just touched a couple of boxes, not crafted bombs.”

“That doesn’t matter to them, they—What did you just say? Evil, you’re a damn genius!”

“That is beyond doubt. However, I fail to understand this particular outburst.”

“You don’t need to understand. I think I figured out how to get myself into that red announcement chat. A much simpler way than anything you’ve imagined.”

Chapter 48

Day in the Life of a Terrorist

Total stat levels: 45 +2.

Character level: 7.

Mastery level: 7.

The world of X was, at first, created according to a simple principle: “The more complex, the better.” Innumerable game options and pathways. Afterwards, a “trim the fat” initiative simplified things.

But even in its new form, X retained much of its origins. That included some of this complexity, which players often lambasted as confusing.

Despite the general swords-and-spells feel to the game, some of the possibilities bordered on technology. Alchemists, for example, had access to explosive materials. Any player could use these materials, even if their level was 0, though they would have a difficult time leveling up with them.

First, bombs were just too expensive. This exorbitant price was due to their main ingredient. It was a low-level raw material, but rare, and with a much slower respawn time than boring old copper: three whole days.

One bomb, then, required about as much raw material as a level 50 medium-quality weapon. A sword of that level could inflict a couple of million damage points on numerous enemies before it needed repairs. But a bomb could only hurt one or two enemies.

And it was no guarantee that they would even be harmed. X had no modern fuses to speak of—bombs were blown up the primitive ancient way, with unreliable rope wicks. By the time you lit the bomb and threw it at the target, many things could happen that might result in the complete waste of an expensive item.

But the high price of bombs was due to more than just the rarity of the ingredients needed to manufacture them. They were in high demand.

Why would any player want an item with such dubious advantages? Well, no single player would. But this was a multiplayer game. The main consumer of bombs were game clans and alliances. During inter-clan hostilities, situations often arose which required the capture of a stronghold belonging to the enemy. Large objects in the game could be granted partial protection from destructive magic, so at times, explosives became necessary. If two hundred players planted one decent bomb each against a wall, there was a high probability that the explosion would result in a large breach. No need to bother with drills for undermining, towers, or other complicated and risky attack strategies. Bombs greatly simplified this particular situation.

Sometimes a party of players going after one of the world’s strongest monsters wanted bombs, as well. Successful explosions could take a lot of hit points from the monster right at the start of the fight, in addition to giving it a number of nasty debuffs. Then the party could finish it off with conventional weapons, avoiding the penalties to experience and loot that came when you finished off an enemy with explosives.

But the lion’s share of the demand for bombs was the clans. These powerful entities kept their sources of the essential ingredient under close watch and control. The miners operated under the greatest security measures, and virtually none of this ingredient slipped out into the black market. When it did, it went for a fabulous sum.

That ingredient was saltpeter.

Only after his lengthy conversation with the Ancient Evil did Dark realize that the mine was priceless, not because of the copper and crystal, nor even because of the amethysts. The muted whitish streaks of saltpeter made it a site that any clan would pay a huge percentage of its treasury to obtain.

Dark had stored up significant amounts of saltpeter over the course of his week-long war with the ghosts. At the start, he had not known why. His interest had only been in leveling up his skills. But once his vague bomb plot began taking shape, he devoted a couple of days to mining more. At the same time, he continued to kill the luminous inhabitants of the mine’s lower level. They dropped ectoplasm, which was a core ingredient for a whole class of explosives. The forums had told him that.

But most of his time was spent, not in the mines, but pumping his Alchemy. A huge amount of raw materials were available in his collection for this purpose. After all, Dark had never failed to collect the loot from even the weakest of mobs. Crafting in X, like everything else, was complicated.

There were three ways to create an object: first, to mentally imagine the result you wanted as you worked; second, to mentally picture an object that you have created before at least once; and third, to have a parchment containing a complete recipe, listing all of the necessary ingredients and their proportions. The last option had the greatest chance of success, and it resulted in an item with the properties listed in the recipe. The second option had a much smaller chance of working, but the result was just as predictable.

The first option was the most difficult. Not only were your chances of success minimal, the item might not turn out as you wanted.

It might even be completely different.

Dark didn’t have any recipes for bombs. But he did have plenty of saltpeter, the main ingredient in all varieties of explosives available in this world. He had learned everything he could find in the forum on the topic. Charcoal and sulfur were the next most common ingredients in explosives. He had no problem obtaining the first material by burning wood, but sulfur was more challenging. Fortunately, he had managed to find a way to separate sulfur from the slag that was left over after smelting copper ore.

Incidentally, this at last made it clear why these waste products were classified as alchemical raw materials.

In the real world, saltpeter, charcoal, and sulfur were sufficient to create black powder. The explosives you could make with this powder were weak, but at least they were something. But this recipe would not work in X without additional ingredients. Not much information on this was available in the forums. And while these ingredients could often be substituted with others, there was no database or list available.

So Dark would have to experiment, mixing together all sorts of ingredients in different proportions. Once he was tired of messing with saltpeter, he switched to potionmaking. That was much simpler, as low-level potions were easily made from common raw materials. During the process, he boosted several Alchemy skills.

None of his explosive experimentation worked out until Dark had put several thousand distributable progress points into the Explosives skill, a sub-skill of Alchemy. Once that reached 40, he finally achieved his first success.

Now, at last, he had a better method for making more.

It was the second day of intensive work along these lines.

A moderately powerful bomb in a crude glass case. Created with low-grade explosives and silver shrapnel. Deals direct physical damage, plus additional damage to creatures vulnerable to silver, plus various randomly selected negative effects with varying durations. Damage: 0-11825 Health. Range: 0-11 meters. Warning: This is a dangerous item. Handle with care.

Note: Each player may only carry one bomb in their inventory, in a bag, in a backpack, or in their hands. Each pet may only carry one bomb in a bag or, if applicable, with their limbs. Each mount may only carry one bomb in a bag or, if applicable, with their limbs. One wagon can hold up to five bombs, depending on the class of the wagon.

Note that killing enemies with explosives carries a penalty: you do not receive any distributed experience and receive only half of the normal distributable experience. In addition, your chance of collecting valuable loot is reduced.

The damage ranged from zero to close to twelve thousand. Dark surmised that the maximum damage would only be dealt if the bomb was directly connected with the opponent’s body at the moment of explosion. The farther the distance, the weaker the damage. At maximum distance, the target would only get a minor debuff and no direct damage.

Placing the bomb on the ground, Dark counted out five meters in one direction, seven in another, ten in a third, and thirteen in a fourth direction. He placed another bomb on the ground at each of these distances.

Then, he set fire to the central bomb’s wick and ran thirty paces away.

The explosion was beautiful and deafening. Dark watched the aftermath. He wanted to be sure that the other three bombs would blow up, despite their wicks never being set on fire. Only the bomb that was thirteen meters away survived.

Perhaps his distances had not been one hundred percent accurate, but it appeared that all bombs that fell within the range of the exploding bomb also exploded. He would continue crafting, testing, and learning. All in all, he learned three different varieties of bombs during his experimentation.

It seemed that his assumptions were correct. The next day, he would begin work on the most complex portion of his plan.

First, he would conduct another experiment.

Just before he went to sleep.

* * *

Simple Staff of a Novice Mage. Magic weapon. Class: primitive. A high-quality ash branch fired in a furnace and adorned with pure copper. Its top is decorated with silver and rock crystal. When this rod was crafted, it absorbed the power of several soul essences bearing a level close to its own. Can be used as a melee weapon, for casting magic attacks, for buffs and debuffs, for healing, and for life drain. Required level: 7. Durability: 13/13. Base physical damage: 8 x (1 + Strength). Current physical damage: 8 x (1 + Strength). +29% base magic damage. Estimated value: hardly anyone would purchase this item. It is easy to obtain a much higher quality staff in X for free. If you managed to find a fool ready to pay a silver coin for this miserable stick, your name should be enshrined in the Merchants Guild Hall of Fame.

Dark had spent a considerable part of his small rock crystal reserves to make his first magic weapon. The stats of the result were disappointing, but what else could be expected from such an unskilled artisan with no experience, no blueprints, and no quality raw materials?

He sat thirty paces from the tunnel entrance and casually charged some arrows with Light Magic.

Two of them he charged the old-fashioned way, two with the staff, and a final two after equipping all of the items that gave his Magic a bonus.

He spent only a small amount of Mana on the task since his opponents had limited Health reserves.

What opponents? The beasts that emerged from the mine when the sun went down. Their tracks were ever present by the rails of the mine cart track.

Mine rats. These mobs were predictable and weak, which made them perfect for his experiment.

As long as he didn’t let them attack in groups. If a whole horde of them charged, he would end up back at respawn again.

An experienced explorer like him could not afford the reputation hit of being slain by rats.

They appeared when expected. As soon as the sun’s rays were no longer illuminating the very top of the waste dump, he saw the whiskers of the first. It did not notice Dark and ran practically right past him. After all, his Stealth was at 101. As long as he didn’t move, the odds were good that even a high-level mob could come within a few paces and fail to see him.

The rats? Not a chance.

He waved his arms to attract the rodent’s attention. Once it was just a little closer, he shot it.

The power of Light was impressive. After finishing off five more, he slinked into the growing darkness and used the scattered heaps of rock for cover until he reached the warehouse and then the tower.

None of the rats followed.

Once he had locked himself in, he sat down and investigated the victory messages, looking for damage amounts. The first two kills had been with minimum damage. The next two had taken about 25% more. The last two had received a double dose.

These values weren’t exact, of course, and even varied within the pairs. X’s damage system always had an element of randomness, and potential damage dealt in each case was a range, not a hard value. In addition, the same mobs could be at different levels or have slightly different defensive stats.

But Dark’s core assumptions had been right.

His level 10 Possessed by Light ability gave a weapon or arrow 3 hit points of damage per unit of Mana he spent. But that was just a base value. If he boosted his character’s Magic, the same amount of Mana would cause much more damage.

And if he used the staff, the damage would be increased further by about 29%.

In total, Dark could take about 4,200 hit points from a mob with a single arrow, as long as he used his items with a Magic bonus and his new staff. That meant, of course, removing many of the items that gave him an Intellect bonus—knocking his Mana close to its natural level of 700. So, tripled by the ability, that was 2,100, and a further doubling by the items and staff made the total 4,200.

Simple math.

According to the forum, 4,000 hit points was more than even some level 50 mobs had. The level difference between him and them would reduce the damage, of course. Still, the number they would receive would be colossal. Now Dark could fight opponents level 40 and under without needing to worry about defeat.

He could even attack level 50 mobs. But he could not do so very often. The core problem of slow Mana regeneration remained.

One level 50 beast every day—he would be happy with that. In addition, the world of X rewarded players who defeated strong opponents time and time again.

And paid special attention to them.

Most likely.

Chapter 49

Black Blood Temple

Total stat levels: 45 +2.

Character level: 7.

Mastery level: 7.

Kneeling at a distance, Dark surveyed the familiar scene. He was a hundred yards from the place where the agonizing, boiling rain from the local upside-down-world mermaid analogs had burned him to death. Only one had fallen to his ax. Her carcass still lay on the earth, untouched. Looting it was essential, but first he needed to figure out where the others were hiding. The witches who had finished him off.

Squinting, he moved his gaze up and down the coast, assuming that once he found one, the rest would likely be nearby.

Soon he had located two, standing in the shallow water to the right of the pier where he had been tricked by the first “girl.” This pair had their sides rather than their backs turned to him, so from his perspective they did not resemble naked girls. Still, his heart twitched at the remembrance of the hope he had felt.

Clutching his bow, he moved to the dead one to claim his trophies. They were nothing special: 2x Raisha Eye, 1x Raisha Heart, and Raisha Blood, which he collected in a vial prudently prepared ahead of time. These were new alchemy ingredients, unknown to all of the other players in X. Sadly he had not come down here yesterday, as these might have come in handy for his experiments. Perhaps he might have made a new type of bomb or some elixir with beneficial properties.

He continued sneaking over to the others, often freezing in his tracks. Their Perception was bad, but Dark’s Stealth was excellent.

He thrust two of his arrows into the ground in front of him. Each was charged up enough to deal 750 damage, assuming he hit. As long as the target’s level wasn’t too high. He hoped that these raishae had similar Health values to the one he had killed. Dark’s Accuracy and Ranged Weapons skills were above 20 by this point, so his odds of success were good.

He let the arrow loose.

Direct hit. The closest monster exploded into fountains of green and collapsed onto its side. Turning instantly, the other rushed at Dark, who calmly finished it off with an identical lethal shot after it had drawn fifteen paces closer.

He turned and frowned. Another was charging him, one he had failed to notice before. This despite the absolute lack of vegetation along the shore—the only hiding place he could see was the pier. She hadn’t come from the pier.

Drawing another arrow saturated with Light Magic from his quiver, he let the mob get close, then took his shot and hurriedly set to replenishing his magically-charged arrows. That meant drawing his staff from his bag. Dark had left his Intellect-boosting items in the tower, equipping everything that boosted Magic instead. That had significantly reduced his max Mana but increased its regeneration rate—a much more valuable characteristic in this situation.

After looting the slain raishae, Dark headed down the coast.

As expected, he encountered more of the monsters along the way. Once he reached the far point of the lake near the abandoned temple, he had slain seventeen of the beasts in under an hour. Level 11 soul essences had dropped from each. He was beginning to rejoice at finding such a rich source of the essences, but then the stream of raishae dried up. No matter how far he walked, he did not encounter a single one. Once he ran into the cliff, the beach disappeared completely, the sheer rock face running straight into the water.

Back to the temple it is, then. Dark examined the pier first. It was hard to get a good survey of from far away, especially since it was partly destroyed—preventing him from noticing the big boat hiding in a secluded niche until later in his exploration. As often happened in this land, the boat looked practically new, unwounded by the centuries. A bit of water splashed around the bottom, but there was no sign of a leak, so it was likely from a recent rain shower.

The oarlocks were made of time-darkened bronze, and the boat’s bench held a pair of oars. Unable to restrain himself, Dark untied the boat and went for a short ride around the pier. In real life, he had never gone rowing, but either he was naturally talented, or the game had decided to help him out. It was fun, and the boat was decently big, with room for lots of cargo.

Assuming he hadn’t gotten mixed up, the far end of the lake was close to the meadows where he had harvested hesh’ell swarms. This was a serendipitous placement for his ambitious plans.

Re-lashing the boat, Dark at last headed towards the temple.

* * *

Note: You have discovered a new location: Black Blood Temple. +1 Pioneer skill level. +1 Perception, +1 Luck, +1 Charisma, +1 Simplicity. This is the eighth location you have discovered. Congratulations!

The message showed up as soon as Dark reached the first of the two circular trenches. He had calmly walked the paved road from the pier to the main building, making no effort to hide.

When he stopped, he looked both ways. The trenches and stone circles both stopped on either side, allowing the road to pass through. He was very interested in the trenches thanks to earlier messages about the raishae. They were hundreds of yards around and filled with interestingly dark water.

If it was water at all.

He proceeded to the left to test his suspicions. This was his purpose here, not revenge on those revolting raishae.

Jackpot. He had found black gold. The trenches were not filled with water but an oily liquid that smelled like machinery. He moistened one finger in the substance and brought it close to his face.

Raw Oil. A useful liquid that comes in varying degrees of viscosity. Used for crafting, especially Alchemy. Note: Exercise caution! Oil is flammable!

Dark smiled.

His trip was worth it: He had found oil. Hundreds of gallons of oil, in fact. Each trench was filled to the top.

Had they been placed here as defensive rings? Or were they meant to be lit for some visually spectacular ritual?

More importantly, should he even investigate the temple now?

He had seen a couple of the “mermaids” hiding among the smaller buildings in the complex. No doubt there were more. He would need to clear a path to reach the main building, and what awaited him inside it? Probably more than a little digging and sightseeing.

The whole point of this trip was to gain time, not waste it.

Whatever treasure the temple held, it wasn’t going anywhere.

After centuries of waiting, it could hold out for a few more days. Or weeks.

Breathe easy, raishae. I’ll leave you alone, for now. Dark boarded the boat and headed towards the opposite end of the lake. He had to find out whether he could dock it there—and how close the journey would take him to the city.

Chapter 50

Hesh’ells, Hesh’ells Everywhere

Total stat levels: 45 +2.

Character level: 7.

Mastery level: 7.

Note: You have discovered a new location: Abandoned Village on the Perished Lake. +1 Pioneer skill level. +1 Perception, +1 Luck, +1 Charisma, +1 Simplicity. This is the ninth location you have discovered. Congratulations!

Dark was surprised as he read the message that appeared while he stepped onto the shore. The village was not just abandoned, it was destroyed. Not a single house survived. Only piles of rubble remained, housing nothing but miserable shrubs. It was obvious that nothing of great value could be hidden here.

Still, he searched. It would only take a few minutes to clear such a small area.

A level 2 rat was all he found in the way of mobs. And it clearly was guarding nothing of worth.

Why even build a worthless location like this? It just cluttered the map. Or was some interesting storyline planned and never finished?

Dark exited the village and climbed a hardly-visible path up a steep incline. He hated the lay of the land. If his plan were to work out, he would have to make many trips this way, carrying heavy loads.

At least his Athletics and other related skills would get a boost.

When he crested the hill, his mood also gained a boost. Before him lay the familiar groves and meadows of green. Most importantly, he could see the towers of Omertis in the distance over the interweaving tops of the gasthos trees. They were not as far as he might have thought. Seven or eight minutes’ journey with his current load.

Dark heard a familiar, almost nostalgic buzz and turned around. A hesh’ell swarm. Under other circumstances, he would have ignored it, but not this time.

There was something unusual about it.

First of all, it was bigger than any other swarm he had seen thus far. The others had hardly merited the title. But this cluster of bugs was so dense in the middle that the sunlight was extinguished there. Only flickers of orange assured him that drones were included in its numbers.

Far too many drones, in fact—ten, at the least.

Whatever was in the very center was impossibly large. The buzz of the swarm was different, too.

It included a new species, or perhaps several new species.

Yes, Dark knew he was here to save time, but he did not forget his main objective: getting his name in the red announcement chat. This swarm had some promise to that effect.

Who knew what might be hiding in the depths of this cyclone of wings? It could be an elite, or even a boss. Dark would be unable to kill a boss, even a low-level boss, on his own. As a rule, bosses had numerous control skills that kept you from doing anything for most of the fight. Fighting them alone was like playing soccer with only one goal.

Your team’s.

An elite, however, was an interesting possibility. Hesh’ell queens so far had been level 6 or 7. Perhaps an elite hesh’ell queen would be level 12 to 14, with much stronger stats. It might be able to kill him, but perhaps not. Regardless of that elite’s strength, no other players in the world had seen it.

An elite was the strongest mob beneath boss level. By defeating an elite for the first time in X’s history, especially in single combat, Dark might earn a large reward.

And maybe recognition in the form of a coveted global announcement.

He winced after estimating the number of bugs in the swarm. He might not manage to kill them before dusk.

That meant he needed to hurry, without much regard for minimizing his own pain and suffering.

* * *

Note: Personal victory! Elite Hesh’ell Sentinel killed. Dangerous mob. Level 9. Location sensation level: 20%. Personal sensation level: 70%. This was a flying mob. You receive double XP! +345 progress points received. 69 distributable progress points received. This was a flying mob. Double distributable progress points!

The following skills played a significant role in this battle...

The first was dead. Dark’s first thought had been correct: this swarm was truly unique.

Note: You have discovered a new creature: Elite Hesh’ell Sentinel. Dangerous mob. Level 9. Base XP: 180. Note: Flying mob. x2 base XP! Health: 883. Mana: 609. Stamina: 795. Aggression: aggressive only when the swarm’s royal queen is attacked. Magic abilities: Temporary Blindness, Stamina Drain, Bleeding. Poison level: unknown. Chance of valuable loot: moderate. Description: a large, voracious creature that adores Fruit of the Gasthos Tree. Parts of its body may be used for food and crafting. Attacks everything that it perceives as threatening the Royal Hesh’ell Queen. 100% chance of attacking those close to the Royal Hesh’ell Queen. May attack those who attack other nearby Elite Hesh’ell Sentinels.

No player in the history of X has ever encountered an Elite Hesh’ell Sentinel! You receive +500 Knowledge progress points. You receive a bonus +1 to any skill. The leaders of the Explorers League may present you with a reward for adding creatures you have discovered from your personal bestiary to the league archives.

Congratulations! Keep discovering new things to unlock more generous rewards!

Note: Your special Naturalist skill has reached level 10. You receive +1 Perception and +1 Tolerance. Congratulations!

The mob was, sadly, elite in name only. Its mob class was “dangerous,” and though that was only one step under an elite, it was not what he wanted.

There was no way he would score a global announcement with that.

An elite was the minimum that might qualify. Thankfully, there was one right in front of him. Dark had by now killed all of the other mobs, which he had discovered previously. The final drones circled around their charge: one single, huge bug.

This was clearly the Royal Hesh’ell Queen mentioned in the victory logs so far. Its dimensions were as big as a cow’s, and a pair of bent, deadly-looking horns had grown in above her eyes. Only its limbs seemed unthreatening, as if they had been transplanted from an overgrown fly. They were too thin and sprouting uneven patches of black insect hair.

The sentinels had taken Dark to his limits, and this bug was obviously much more dangerous.

He couldn’t even attack her right now, in any case: Four more elite sentinels still remained. Their descriptions made it clear that they would tolerate no aggression towards their mother. An attack from all four of them would kill Dark in under half a minute.

Could he really give up now, when victory was so close?

He drank a weak mana potion and stared at the circling guards, waiting for an opportunity to try luring one away without angering the others.

Chapter 51

The Power of Light

Total stat levels: 45 +2.

Character level: 7.

Mastery level: 7.

Note: You are consuming alchemical potions too quickly. You are close to being poisoned!

Dark had never seen that message before, but after all of the reading he had done on the forum, it failed to surprise him.

The game did not allow excessive potion consumption. A player simply was not permitted to drink fifteen bottles of elixir without suffering negative effects.

After finishing the elite sentinels off, Dark took a long rest. He followed the royal queen, who continued to graze on gasthos trees as if nothing had happened, and took a string of mana potions with a few minutes of pause between. Sometimes, as his Mana allowed, he used Possessed by Light to charge up another arrow.

After all, the potions made his Mana recharge much more quickly. No stat-strengthening potions were on the menu today. The elixirs in that category he had managed to create were hardly worth the risk. He would only hurt his ability to charge up more arrows. Dark added up the numbers in his head yet again. The arrows only held Light Magic for twenty minutes, so he had limited time.

How many hit points did an elite have? Many more than a guard, clearly. But how many? Ten thousand? Twenty thousand? There was no way to find out, with no other players having encountered this mob, and no access to the X Encyclopedia. By downing one vial of potion after another, he was preparing for the worst.

Despite his cautionary pauses, he went too far. A special debuff icon appeared with a twenty-minute countdown. If Dark took anything “stronger than water” during that time, he would suffer a debuff to his stats and skills. Egregious violations of this ban would cause debuffs strong enough to disable him.

Only seven arrows were charged. Each could deal several thousand points of damage. Of course, he had equipped everything that increased his Magic Attack and had used his staff so as to possess each arrow with maximum damage.

Yet the longer he considered the royal queen, the more he doubted that it would be enough.

She was terrifying. She was also the only hesh’ell he had seen that had a sharp stinger at the end of its abdomen. Ever since he was a kid, Dark had hated wasps, bees, and hornets.

And that stinger wasn’t even the worst part.

To hell with it. Here we go. All he had to do was draw his bow, aim, and release. One and a half minutes remained until the first arrow lost its charge. The others would follow at intervals.

Dark approached to within thirty yards and stuck seven arrows into the ground. Lighting a bomb in his bag, he threw it in the creature’s direction, waited a couple of seconds, then drew the bow more tightly and released the fingers of his right hand.

The elite shuddered like it had taken a blow from a jackhammer. A hail of copper shards followed as the bomb exploded, three steps away. Despite all of this, the mob spun on a dime and charged Dark.

Rather than reach for the next arrow, the man cast Suffering with a wave of his hand.

The royal queen fell to the ground and began writhing ridiculously, its legs flailing in all directions. For at least ten seconds, it would be under the skill’s control, and then the battle would begin in earnest.

Dark hurried to take maximal advantage of the moment, firing a second arrow, then a third. A message appeared that was much too long to simply be a “damage dealt” alert, but he paid it no attention.

A fourth arrow, then a fifth.

Dark paused before firing the sixth. He knew how slow his rate of fire was. There was no way in hell that he could fire a bow fast enough to deliver so many arrows in ten seconds.

The elite had stopped writhing, and its legs had relaxed, splayed out every which way.

It was dead, slain by three arrows and a bomb. Hence the long message.

Dark nearly slapped himself in the face for his stupidity. The Ancient Evil was right. What else could a massive message filled with all kinds of stats and numbers mean in the middle of a fight?

Note: Personal victory! Royal Hesh’ell Queen killed! Elite Mob. Level 12. Location sensation level: 30%. Personal sensation level: 80%. This was a flying mob. You receive double XP! +918 progress points received. This was a flying mob. Double distributable progress points! 153 distributable progress points received.

The following skills played a significant role in this battle: Physical Attack, Ranged Weapons, Reaction, Accuracy, Luck, Magic Accuracy, Control Resist.

+22 Physical Attack progress points.

+37 Ranged Weapons progress points.

+15 Reaction progress points.

+211 Accuracy progress points.

+60 Luck progress points.

+411 Magic Accuracy progress points.

+162 Control Resist progress points.

Note: You have discovered a new creature: Royal Hesh’ell Queen. Elite Mob. Level 12. Base XP: 360. Note: Flying mob. x2 base XP! Health: 16224. Mana: 4480. Stamina: 10055. Aggression: aggressive if attacked. May attacked if approached within melee distance. Magic abilities: Blinding, Elemental Magic Damage, Slowdown, Reduce Accuracy. Poison level: poisonous. Chance of valuable loot: high. Description: a huge, phenomenally voracious creature that adores Fruit of the Gasthos Tree. Parts of its body may be used for food and crafting. Avoid it unless you are looking for a painful death. Note: This is an elite monster with highly elevated stats. When hunting these creatures, it is dangerous to go alone. Take a party with you.

No player in the history of X has ever encountered a Royal Hesh’ell Queen! You receive +500 Knowledge progress points. Bonus +1 level to any basic skill. You also receive 500 distributable craft skill progress points. The leaders of the Explorers League may present you with a reward for adding creatures you have discovered from your personal bestiary to the league archives.

Congratulations! Keep discovering new things to unlock more generous rewards!

That was it? That was all he got for killing an elite? He hadn’t just robbed some old bones—he had murdered the monster with his own hands! The bomb shouldn’t matter. According to the forum, as long as he finished the bug off with conventional weapons, it counted as a non-explosive victory. Most of the damage had been dealt by magic arrows, in fact, not by the shrapnel and blast wave.

What a waste of time! That instant, as he realized the failure of his quest, a new message appeared.

Note: Check Global Announcements.

There it was: the red announcement.

Attention! The player Dark has, for the first time in the history of X, destroyed a dangerous monster: the elite Royal Hesh’ell Queen. He accomplished this alone, without the slightest assistance from any other players. A great achievement worthy of the history books! Congratulations to this outstanding player! Continue achieving great feats and you will be rewarded!

Before Dark had finished reading the red message, another appeared underneath it, in a light blue font.

Note: You have accomplished a global achievement! +5 distributable base skill levels, +3 distributable craft skill levels, +5 distributable stat levels, +3 distributable craft stat levels.

Note: This is your first global achievement! You receive +10000 distributable base skill progress points and +5000 distributable craft skill progress points.

The system had taken its time! He had given up hope, in fact. But it was done. Now for the last bit, and he could return to the tower.

From the bug carcass, Dark collected an extensive assortment of the standard alchemical ingredients hesh’ells had to offer.

In addition, he acquired the new Royal Queen Stinger and Royal Queen Poison. Plus, several Lesser Modifiers—and a Greater Soul Essence of level 11. He had never seen that last item before. Perhaps it was a reward for his solo victory. According to its description, a greater soul essence counted as 10 normal soul essences.

But the best treasure was yet to come.

Twisted Silver Ring with Star Sapphire. Class: Superb. Elegantly crafted by a worker who knows how to make masterpieces from only moderately expensive materials. It looks completely new. Durability: 35/35. Item bonuses: +5 Intellect, +2 Mana Regeneration per minute, +2 Magic. Required level: 8. Estimated value: This item includes an expensive gem. For this fact alone, merchants will be willing to pay a great sum for it. However, selling it to a novice mage is a better idea, as magic users are very fond of such items.

The description understated things. For a novice mage, this item was incredible. In order to match its effects with his current arsenal, Dark would have to use nine separate items. This one gave it all to him while only taking up one slot.

The swarm was worth it.

Sadly, the level requirement was 8, and Dark was—paradoxically—trying to avoid leveling up. After all, that let him level better, in the long run. The game’s mechanics allowed him to pump some skills to astronomical heights while keeping others near 0. For instance, if he declined to use shields, the Shieldbearer skill would stop growing, preventing his Strength from growing, as well.

This allowed his character to keep a low level for months, gaining mountains of experience for the skills he used without leveling the unused ones. Then, later, he could push ten levels at once by spending distributable points.

The lower your level, the more experience you got from defeating mobs thanks to the level difference between you. In fact, that difference was the greatest determiner of experience awarded.

He did not want to level up—but this ring was worth it. With one last moment of consideration, Dark spent 120 distributable points on the skill Magic Staves and Rods. That increased its level up to 5, bringing his Magic to the same value. His stats were now at 48—divided by 6, that put him at the exact level required by the ring, allowing him to gain the maximum bonus his trophy provided.

But he was in no rush to go further.

Exactly one month ago, Dark had escaped the torture room. He had been confused, pathetically weak, and in ownership of nothing but a loincloth, with the realization that he would be stuck here a whole year developing his character from square one.

Thirty days later, he had single-handedly defeated an elite mob. Novice players did not often risk attacking an elite on their own, even when they were much better equipped than Dark. They would have considered the ring that he held so dear now as little more than an ordinary trinket.

But he had done it. Either he was awesome—or Light Magic was truly a force of imbalanced power in the world of X.

Chapter 52

The Invisible Saboteur

Total stat levels: 48 +7.

Character level: 8.

Mastery level: 7.

Killing an elite, even as a solo player, was a common phenomenon. If a leveled player performed the killing, against a low-level mob, it would be hardly worth any attention. In fact, it would be near worthless, since a large level difference meant that neither significant experience nor valuable loot would be expected.

But killing unknown elites, that was something. If one player, or a small party of weaker players, pulled that off, they could earn a mention in the global announcements. This recognition netted some excellent bonuses, and that would make other players jealous.

The killing of an unknown elite by a player with the nickname Dark hit the forum like a bombshell. The furor lasted for several days, with everyone but the shyest lurkers commenting on it. Perhaps the discussion continued beyond, but Dark did not have enough time to follow it.

The buzz was no surprise. After all, the hype over the unsuccessful search for a Dark had just grown quiet when suddenly a player with that nickname landed a global announcement. An announcement that included an undiscovered mob.

That last bit multiplied the intrigue. Why not assume that this hero Dark and the unknown fugitive were one and the same?

The masses did assume that, and rightly so.

Of course, they took it much further. If there was an elite royal hesh’ell queen, there were probably many species of less advanced hesh’ells. And no one had ever heard of a hesh’ell. Only one dubious message mentioned some rumor that the poster had ostensibly heard of these mobs. Some months ago, a group of curious players in a barren and uninteresting land had stumbled upon an oasis amidst the carnage that was miraculously preserved. There, they had found a building resembling an ancient museum. Despite its rundown state, it still contained several exhibits. And those included a hesh’ell liver, sealed in a flask. How it had gotten there was a great mystery lost to the centuries.

Despite the doubt which others prescribed to this message, Dark was inclined to believe it. After all, he had gutted thousands of hesh’ells, and had extracted dozens or hundreds of livers. Not once had he been credited with discovering this ingredient. That didn’t mean any player had come to Ethria before him and killed a couple of the buzzing beasts. No, the lore of the world included various convenient trade routes between the many territories that were now isolated. Such items of interest could have ended up anywhere, preserved for posterity far from their place of origin. A museum was the perfect place to find exotic trophies from ancient times.

Every possible theory was suggested by the players on the forum. One said that Dark had discovered a formerly-unknown dungeon. Some people happened to get so lucky, even in lands that were highly populated. The game loved to hide pleasant and perilous places alike in clever ways. But the mobs in hidden dungeons were usually stronger than usual mobs. Elites in such sites were virtually as strong as bosses. It was far from within every party’s ability to deal with such monsters. And dealing with them alone, without so much as a buff or item from a leveled player, that was impossible.

So the theory was dismissed as nonsense. But what was the true story? Who was this Dark? Where had he come from? Why were so many looking for him? Where had he settled to mow down ancient mobs and tell no one of his location?

Dark had attracted the players’ attention, that was for sure.

Had he attracted the attention of the system, as well?

That was an open question. His mysterious human assistant made no appearance. The man stared at the Ancient Evil all night long, in vain. The latter floated among the shelves in his customary way and made no moves to become the form of a beached jellyfish.

Why weren’t they contacting him? Had Dark failed to attract attention? Or had the system responded—but after reviewing his character’s development had just decided that this was obviously a lucky loser? Perhaps his clandestine adviser had even lost his ability to contact Dark on the same channel.

No answers were forthcoming, only more questions.

The only thing Dark knew is that he had failed to open communication. He wanted to speak to a person, not some element of the game AI.

In the meantime, he talked with the Ancient Evil. It was something, but still not enough.

This lack of answers and human interaction was a clear path to severe mental problems. He needed social connection, at least now and then.

But with no sign from his helper nor the system, he had no choice but to follow his original plan: Attract more attention. A lot more attention.

* * *

Stealth was a skill that was valued by warriors of a certain specialization. Assassins were a class of characters whose objective was surprise attacks. Some, thanks to special abilities, could walk right in front of you without being noticed. And then crit stab you in the back. Others could shoot you with several arrows before you guessed where they were coming from.

But for most players, Stealth had little value. Such was the consensus of the forum, in any case.

Dark had his own opinions. At first, he had considered his character hopelessly ruined, but now his mindset had swung to the opposite end of the spectrum.

Thanks to Kim’s machinations, Dark’s Stealth was incredible. That provided him immense benefits even though he had no particular skills bound to Stealth.

Now was a case in point. He had to sneak around a city filled with a thousand zombies. The main principle was to take his time. As long as he moved slowly and took frequent stops, his chances of being noticed were minimal. Unless he was two or three steps from a zombie. They were difficult to spot from far away, but it was easy enough to tell them from stones, branches, and other piles of debris.

Still, he gave larger piles of trash a wide berth. Some mobs could be disguised enough to fool him. At first, Dark had been sent to the tower twice, preferring to die rather than execute another protracted chase and lose hours or days. Now he knew not to reveal himself if there was the slightest hint of danger.

Sadly, the zombies only stayed motionless during daylight hours. At night, they rose and wandered the city with no discernable routes. In dawn, they froze wherever they happened to be located, with unpredictable results. He could clean a whole quarter of the city of zombies and find it full of them again the next day. Running into just one led to howls that alerted all of those nearby. As soon as those opened their eyes, they would howl in the same fashion, and so the call would spread until every zombie in the city was converging on the epicenter of the great collective moan.

So, he declined the idea of a general sweep.

Instead, he only killed zombies that were in the way of his movement among buildings. For some reason, zombies did not enter a building unless they were lured inside. Once he was inside, he no longer had to fear running into them—as long as he avoided being seen through windows and doorways. One slip-up there, and it was back to the tower for him.

Dark had enough travel to do without adding the significant distance between here and there.

On foot and by boat both, often carrying heavy loads.

Sometimes he even had to use a small wagon he had built for the task. The city had plenty of carriages and carts, but they were all too big for his Strength to push.

He had about forty yards to reach his chosen house. There was no need to exit through the door—it was a little further from his target, and every additional step brought with it additional risk. The abandoned city held countless hiding places for zombies at every turn. He spotted a large crack in the middle of the street. The roof of some sewer or secret underground passage had given way. A zombie could easily be hiding within it, and there would be no way to spot it from a distance.

Dark would stay far away.

He began to take a wide arc around it. As always, he denied his desire to hurry, frequently stopping and thoroughly inspecting his planned route.

What was that, peeking out from behind that overturned cart? Is it scattered cargo, turned into rubbish and dust by the centuries? Or is it a zombie, lying in tatters on the pavement? Perhaps. Some could not be identified from two feet away unless they began moving.

That kind of identification was highly undesirable. So he drew a heavy arrow with a wide copper tip, piled a generous amount of Mana into it, and fired.

He praised his decision. The victory message that followed alerted him that he had just killed a level 13 zombie, earning a number of progress points to Stealth since he had made the kill without being detected.

Stronger ghouls like that rarely approached the outer walls—they tended to live closer to the center. But they did exist, which was why he could not be sparing with his Mana in cases like these. Better to spend more Mana than to fail to kill the zombie in a single shot. He was not fast enough to charge and fire a second arrow before the zombie awoke and began its signal howl.

Reaching the cart, Dark crouched down and looted the corpse. He was pleased to find a silver bracelet. Sadly, its only bonus was a tiny boost for Athletics, which Dark certainly needed no more of. But the metal will come in handy. Silver was so rare in his mine that he could work for two days straight without finding any.

Looking around, he noticed another zombie. This one was clearly visible, the bony shape of its hand protruding from its pile of rags. Its fingers were bent, undead skin drooping from them. He could just go around, but there was enough Mana in his meter for the kill. The fewer creatures nearby, the safer he would feel.

Twang. Now, a few more steps and he would be able to climb inside the window, earning one or two Climbing progress points along the way. Like most of the windows in the city, it had lost not only its glass but also its wooden frame. This made it easy to climb into.

Once he was in, he moved quickly. He expected no zombies inside, but there were two dozen rooms of various sizes. Each was scheduled to be searched and stripped of any valuables: metal items, sugar, honey, spices, salt, recipes, maps, blueprints, weapons, and armor.

But the basement was the first on the list. That was where Dark might find was he was searching for.

He found the hatch in the kitchen, as he gathered spice jars into a pile. Spices were good both for pumping Cooking and as valuable alchemical ingredients.

But they could wait. Lifting the hatch, he drew and lit his lantern.

Holding it in his left hand and a Light-charged copper ax in his right, he descended the shaky staircase.

On the last step, his legs were beset by a huge basement rat. Hitting the rat with the ax would damage its hide considerably, so he used Onslaught of Light instead, looted the carcass, and began exploring the vast dungeon stretched out underneath the whole house.

He found his prize in the far corner: barrels. Eleven empty barrels and one partially filled with salt.

A dozen barrels. Not bad. He would drag them over to the wall and begin clearing a path to the next house.

His plan required many, many barrels. A decent day of barrel hunting yielded twenty-five of them. That was two houses, sometimes three, and four on unlucky days. Dark also took any boxes and chests he found beyond the wall. He had built a primitive field camp not far where he now spent all of his time besides that which was used for searching and carting.

A lot of material had to be transported to the camp from the mine and from Black Blood Temple. And from the city: barrels, boxes and chests. For five days straight now, he had been engaged in hard labor. It was boring work, but much better than days of destroying ghosts in the deep dungeons.

At this rate, he had five more days left.

On the sixth, the great moaning would begin.

Chapter 53

Army of the Dead

Total stat levels: 48 +7.

Character level: 8.

Mastery level: 7.

Dark plastered the final stone with mortar, squeezing it hard into the last of the empty space between the hatch cover stones. A few minutes later, the masonry would be solid. Now anyone who tried to reach the upper level of the tower would have serious difficulties.

If they ever reached it at all.

This was not his tower; it was one of the tallest towers lining the city wall. It was in excellent condition. No cracks, no cave-ins, and no big windows to climb into. This was a fortification tower, after all. Thick walls of carefully fitted stone blocks, with four levels of narrow loopholes for archers that only the tiniest of children could fit through.

Each tier was separated from the next by sturdy overhangs. The only way to climb from one to the next was via the stairs on the inside, which had square hatches at the top.

All of those hatches were now walled shut.

The entrance at the bottom, too, was reinforced with stonework.

Dark had just locked himself onto a platform thirty yards in the air.

All was well, though.

This action was all part of a plan.

He stepped towards the edge of the tower roof and surveyed the city from between the ramparts. As always, the city seemed extinct, which was close to the truth. Dawn had immobilized its inhabitants, and now the day was halfway from dawn to noon.

The door and the hatches had taken several hours. Thankfully, everything else had been finished by the night before.

It was time. For ten days, he had done nothing but prepare the battlefield on which he was going to face an entire army of undead.

It would be a more honest fight this time, without any participation from chitin hunters and other chance allies. Today, the past ten days would culminate either in a grand victory, or a grandiose waste of time.

He had spent so many valuable materials, too, that if he had obtained access to trade, he could have lived comfortably off of the proceeds for months.

At least the materials would not have been spent in vain, even if he lost, since he had gained some crafting skill points from using them.

He drank an elixir that gave him a 45-minute Magic boost, then munched a cake of herbs and fish dressed with spices that gave the same effect.

Grabbing his bow, he took aim and fired the first shot. This arrow was not charged with Light Magic. Even if the hit was a critical one, the zombie would survive.

That was the plan.

He missed, in fact. The distance was too far and his height too great for him to score a guaranteed hit on the small target. The second missed, as well, but the third struck the leg of the zombie curled up under the stoop of a nearby mansion.

Immediately the undead man howled.

In the seconds that followed, the whole city awoke. If “awoke” was the proper term for the undead.

Heaps of skin and bones began to rise and straighten. The hordes proceeded towards the wounded ghoul. Dark wanted them to stir, but he was in no hurry to intervene further. He would wait for the most favorable moment.

When the mobs had crowded around the victim, looking maximally confused as they sought the culprit of the crime, he took his next shot.

This time, the target was big.

He fired into the crowd and immediately took cover, making sure only the very top of his head was showing, just enough to see over the wall. Grunting in satisfaction, he watched the fussing of the ghouls increase, along with the volume of their moans.

Every two or three minutes, he loosed another arrow into the crowd, in the same fashion, trying not to give himself away. At this distance, with his Stealth and the low levels of these mobs, his chances of being detected were tiny. Sooner or later, though, random chance would betray him to one of them, and they would assault the tower. This was a game, so stone walls and ceilings would eventually fall to their bare hands. But it would take them many hours to accomplish the task, one tier at a time.

He saw no alternative in their playbook, as the tower was simply too high to scale with a zombie ladder. Nor did the smooth stone walls offer enough handholds and footholds.

Here, Dark could withstand a protracted siege. Alas, his inevitable surrender would follow.

Perhaps.

* * *

Twenty-three minutes after the first shot, the ghouls located the archer’s position. It was Dark’s fault. By that point, every last inch of space between the houses on that street was packed with the horde, including undead mages. The most elite of them had not yet appeared, which irritated Dark since the whole show had been planned specifically for him.

These were no hesh’ells. They were more powerful and much larger, so their elite was larger, as well. Dark remembered the damage he had taken from the monster. Avoiding a second attack of such force was why he had spent ten days preparing the field.

But where was the fiend?

Unable to resist, Dark took a shot at a higher-level mob. He hit, but just as he saw the damage alert, his position was given away.

The horde howled and charged the tower in a stumbling avalanche of bone and cloth. Less than half a minute later, they were packed so tightly down below that he could not spit without hitting several. Even the numerous primitive carts which had been positioned nearby were filled with clambering ghouls. Unable to push through, many of the undead in the rear began climbing over those in front.

The mages, though able to hover without touching the ground, were unable to rise in the air. Dark knew this about them thanks to his experience in a different tower, where he had gathered a small crowd and watched them.

The mobs pounded on the door, slowly but surely destroying his stronghold. No elite showed its face. Dark had grown tired of sitting and doing nothing, so he began teasing the zombies, moving from one spot to another in a game of peekaboo behind the ramparts. With each appearance, he was greeted with an intensified collective howl and attempts made to hit him with black blots of magic.

The comedy tour lasted for several minutes before the zombies achieved a minor success, breaking into the doors. They crowded inside. Now Dark could not see what was happening, but he had a pretty good idea. Filling the whole first floor with their bodies, the zombies would mill about as the nimblest began beating on the first hatch.

Where is that damned elite? About a hundred zombie mages had gathered by now, several times more than he had seen by the chitin brood’s hill. He could not even estimate the number of normal zombies. A thousand? Three? Five? The population of the undead city had all come out to join the party.

Except for their leader.

What, was he on vacation?

* * *

His appearance was unexpected and terrible. Without warning, he appeared on the flat roof of the nearest house. He was fifty yards away from Dark, and that was, as it happened, not enough distance to hinder the magic from his wicked staff: the dead, red-haired head atop an exposed spine.

The tower shuddered as a blob of darkness struck it just above the top inside floor, and a black cloud grew in the air. Thankfully Dark had rushed to the opposite edge, where he took refuge behind a barricade, just in case. The move was unnecessary. The tentacles of black appeared between the ramparts, but proceeded no further, dissipating quickly.

Yet another magical blast flew overhead, followed by another that struck the tower. One second later, another blast hit.

What is this, a fully automatic staff? How did this monster have such a high magic rate of fire?

The onslaught continued for about a minute before falling silent. The quiet was unnatural, and the tower was still.

Then the silence erupted in such a howl that Dark pressed his hands to his ears. He shrank back involuntarily, pushing his palms tighter, twitching violently.

The tower shuddered far more violently than before. As he pulled his palms from his ears, he heard the sound of stones collapsing.

Not just stones—pieces of the very blocks the tower was made of. Or perhaps even the blocks themselves, blown clear off the tower’s form.

The force such an attack would take was unfathomable.

Unable to hold himself back, Dark stood, crept to the edge of the tower, and leaned over the edge. He realized then why the magic attacks had stopped.

The earlier frequency of the attacks made sense, too.

The tower was being assaulted, not by one elite, but three.

All of them now surrounded the tower in a semicircle, keeping about twenty yards’ distance. Before the decimated door stood a horror next to which the elites paled in comparison.

Clad in blue-black armor, this giant was at least thirty feet tall. He wore no helmet, so his head was perfectly visible: a huge skull with a tangled mane of impossibly blond, almost radiant hair, bound with a thin, blood-red band.

The colossus held in its hands a stupendously rich-looking halberd, which was, like everything else, massive in size. A single stroke of its blade would easily dismember fifty normal-sized beings at once. That likely had just happened, mere seconds ago. Crimson streamed onto the pavement from the wide blade. Perhaps it was just for effect, and not actually from the blood of the boss’s forces.

The dead giant swung again. The tower swayed dangerously, whole blocks scattering to the ground as the zombies moaned in triumph, welcoming their leader to the fight.

The elites had only been lieutenants.

He hadn’t even known that the city had been home to three of them. All of his calculations had been aimed at laying only one huge creature flat. Based on the forum, he had estimated the maximum hit points a monster of one of the elite’s size could have and had taken every measure to make sure he would reduce that number to zero.

His plans had no room for this inestimably stronger opponent.

A dire elite? A super elite? Perhaps even a boss, one of the strongest monsters in the game?

Do something, Dark. Now. The tower was noticeably weaker after the second blow. It would not stay standing for long. Perhaps it would crumble in a minute, perhaps two—burying its only defender under its rubble or flinging him into the howling crowd.

The giant struck again.

Dark felt as though his refuge was barely holding its ground.

Grabbing one of his arrows, he pumped all of his Mana into one, gathered those he had charged in advance, and added all of them to his small quiver. Drinking a Mana Regeneration Potion, he had no intention to wait for it to take effect.

Hurrying to the far edge of the tower, he drew the burning torch resting there, returned, and set fire to the long wicks leading to three bombs resting against the ramparts. One after the other, he sent them over the edge, trying to throw in a pattern that did not land them all in the same location.

He counted the seconds in his head, then braced himself against a short pole used centuries ago to fly a flag. A rope ran from the pole, tied on earlier by Dark. He grabbed the belt draped over the rope, pushed off, and began sliding down the makeshift zipline.

The other end of the rope was tied to a similar strong flagpole crowning the next tower down. Sadly, the rope itself was sagging. During his dry runs, Dark had given it a couple of tries. The first attempt almost got him killed, but the second went without a hitch—or without a fall, anyway.

Even if he died on this run, it might not matter. He had already done everything he needed to do.

Four, three, two... he continued counting down, his heart sinking as he realized he would not make it in time. The wicks had been too short, and the bombs would explode before Dark reached the lowest point of the rope.

One, zero.

Nothing. There was no blast. Dark continued to slide, his speed increasing as he approached the wall. The builders had built it wide enough to ride a cart on top of. As long as he grabbed the edge quickly and firmly enough, he would not sail over the edge.

Something black flew past him. The mages or elites were firing their abilities, trying to hit the rapidly accelerating target.

Still, no explosion. He didn’t understand.

Had the bombs failed? Had they broken into pieces on landing? Nothing like that had happened in his trials. They were highly reliable bombs, in copper shells. In every test, they had exploded as intended.

Another blast of lethal magic whipped by, dangerously close.

Suddenly, the world turned black, and not from the magic. Dark’s hearing cut out, and his hands let go on their own. He flew down onto the top of the wall.

Or rather, where the wall should have been.

If it was there, he didn’t feel the hit.

He felt nothing at all.

Chapter 54

Boom

Total stat levels: 48 +7.

Character level: 8.

Mastery level: 7.

First, he saw the message.

It was long.

You have destroyed a large number of opponents of various levels. Note: You cannot receive base experience for these victories. Note: You will only receive half distributable experience for these victories. 83420 distributable progress points received.

You can view a detailed victory log in the Victories section of your log archive.

Note: The detailed victory log is 1396433 characters long, including spaces. Reading it might take a significant amount of time.

Note: You have discovered a new creature: Elite Ethrian Necromancer Lich. Elite Mob. Level 52-56. Base XP: 1620. Health: 82970. Mana: unknown. Stamina: unknown. Aggression: aggressive, socially aggressive, summons horde, extremely vindictive, pursues its prey tirelessly. Magic abilities: Mortal Black Cloud. Poison level: not poisonous. Chance of valuable loot: high. Description: Created from the mummified corpses of the most disgusting creatures and charged with the black soul of a cursed magician, who was treacherously slain by his own creation. The lich’s magic is fast and covers a large area of effect. Unless you can manage to take cover, prepare yourself for a quick and terrible death. If you do defeat one of these monsters, remain vigilant. The undead of Ethria are vindictive and exhibit horde behavior. By attacking one, you risk drawing the wrath of many.

No player in the history of X has ever encountered an Elite Ethrian Necromancer Lich! You receive +1750 Knowledge progress points. Bonus +1 level to any basic skill. You also receive 1500 distributable craft skill progress points. The leaders of the Explorers League may present you with a reward for adding creatures you have discovered from your personal bestiary to the league archives. Congratulations! Keep discovering new things to unlock more generous rewards!

The message was not set in pure black. Dark had not gone blind. The blast had immediately knocked out his senses and hurled him at the tower.

He had considered the idea that the blast might exceed his calculations.

But not by that much.

Bombs were expensive toys. Tossing them at mobs was like hunting ducks with shotguns loaded with diamonds instead of birdshot. The top clans spent days or weeks mining saltpeter and other ingredients in order to assault an enemy castle in a massive battle. Or for other similarly impressive ends.

And equally impressive rewards. One bomb was nothing. It would cause minor damage, over an area of several square meters. But five hundred bombs? It was unlikely that anything in their area of effect would survive. The gates of the enemy castle would collapse, or even a wall or tower, and defenders who had not managed to leave the area in time would perish.

No single player could gather so many bombs without paying inconceivable sums of real-world money. But, for sake of argument, say one player had gathered that many. What would happen? Well, one character could only carry one bomb at a time. If accompanied by a pet and a mount, that carry limit grew to three. Even adding a large wagon to the mix would only increase the maximum to eight.

Suppose this rich player found a clearing where the whole arsenal could be deployed against a huge crowd of mobs for a mess of distributable progress points. What then? Could that player build up a store of bombs there? Well, this world was full of other players. They were always looking for anything of interest. If they encountered a pile of bombs stored up by someone else, they would carry them off in batches without so much as a thank-you note.

Dark had none of these difficulties. He could toss gold coins in all directions on the hilltops and highways without attracting the interest of a single soul. This was one of the largest multiplayer games in the world, and yet he was alone. For him, saltpeter was liberally available.

There were no clans to control the mines. And no competitors to sabotage him. He could mine away, day in and day out, without any interference. After a time, he could return to the same places—because resources, like mobs, had a respawn time.

Not that he could sell the saltpeter to anyone, either. Any use he could think of for the saltpeter should be immediately taken advantage of.

Dark had not dragged the bombs in one by one. Nor had he used carts, which could only ferry a limited number. One more comical loophole in the game had helped him: a barrel could hold 200 bombs. However, that barrel could not be carried in a wagon. The wagon would not budge if so loaded. But a cart could hold four barrels of oil, as long as the player pulling it was strong enough.

That was how Dark had brought in the oil. Each day, for the past ten days, he had made a trip to the trenches around the Black Blood Temple. There, he had filled the barrels and used the boat to bring them to the abandoned village. He had kept to the shallows—the depths of the Perished Lake creeped him out, and he suspected that some monster lived within. Once he had moored the boat, he had pushed the cart up the slope, a sweaty business, and then pulled it to the city.

Back to the bombs. A mine cart could, as it turned out, be loaded with enough raw materials to make 400 bombs. Then this cart could be rolled up to the city. In his field camp, Dark had produced bombs.

Though the mine cart could carry hundreds of bombs in raw material form, once they were finished, it could only transport five at most.

Dark could make about two hundred fifty bombs in a day. In total, he had crafted nearly twenty-five hundred. Just under a thousand had lined the lowest floor of the tower, and another fifteen hundred had filled thirty barrels, placed so that when one of them exploded, its neighbors did, too.

He hadn’t stopped there. Having brought all of the carts into the city, he managed to drag them out without much effort. Then, he had filled them with dry wood and covered them with pitch collected from the rooftops. Nearly every house had a bucket or two available. Dark had placed forty barrels of oil about, mixed with sulfur and tar. It was the game’s version of napalm: It burned hot and stuck to practically any surface. When it contacted flesh, it caused unending pain and damage until it went out.

All of this seemed like an implausible amount of work to accomplish, of course. In the real world, a month would not be enough. In X, Dark had managed it in just ten days.

There had been other work to do, as well. Many things. He had needed to burn wood to make charcoal, for instance. Eating on the go, cutting back on sleep, doing everything he could to save time. Squeezing every last bit out of each and every minute.

The three bombs dropped from the tower roof had destroyed the fruits of his labor in an instant.

Along with an army of zombies crowded into the most material-intensive trap in the history of X.

Dark had not considered some effects of using such a huge number of bombs, however. He had been sure that he was fifteen yards away, as so was safe.

That had been very wrong. The game’s explosives apparently had a noticeable stacking blast effect.

The blast wave had hurled him into the wall at a neck-breaking height. He had survived the collision but had lost three-quarters of his hit points and suffered several debuffs, which still prevented him from seeing clearly.

Of course, it had been worth it.

No base experience was awarded for explosion kills, yes. But half of the distributable experience was still given to him, and it was a lot. He had paid ten days of hard labor and a reasonable amount of pain and suffering for the experience.

In the end, he had even survived the fight.

The battle had turned out better than he had hoped.

His vision was recovering now. Dark rose and staggered over to the wall, leaning against the ramparts and looking at the tower.

It had turned from a tower of stone to one of billowing black smoke. At the base of the tower, the cloud expanded dramatically over the whole city block. Large, smoking fire burned in several places. Nothing else was visible.

There was something else off to the side, dozens of yards from the tower. Outside of the blast zone, thousands of pieces of zombies were scattered everywhere, farther than the smoke. A severed arm lay at Dark’s feet. He could touch it to bring up the loot screen, since access to even the tiniest piece of an enemy’s corpse allowed that.

Right. Loot. That’s going to take forever.

Gradually his hearing was returning. The roar of the flames grew, though still muffled, intermingled with the continued crumbling of walls.

A sudden, wailing howl swept through the city, drowning out all other noise. A massive form rose in the smoke. One moment later, it stepped forward, a giant figure with an immense, bloody halberd. Continuing his howl, the boss waved his free hand in panic, attempting to beat out the flames burning him in several places.

“Just die already!” Dark shouted in irritation.

He had no fear that the monster would hear him. Even ordinary zombies never lost their target. They could pursue for hours. This was an elite. Most likely a boss.

Once he put himself out, he would attack Dark. Any attempt to escape would only waste time.

If death was going to come after all, let it come.

But he had some fight left in him.

Drawing an arrow from his quiver, Dark fired it at the target. Even at a hundred yards away, it would be an easy shot due to the monster’s size. The distance was closer to fifty yards.

You deal the Dark Warlord Go’adzas, Eternal Lord of Omertis, 14742 damage.

All of those bonuses and elixirs had paid off. Nearly fifteen thousand damage, and that against a boss!

Light Magic was great for fighting the undead.

Here, have another one.

He shot with a second arrow, and the boss ceased fighting the flame, raised his halberd, and charged at Dark. The blow wouldn’t just sever the player in two, but the wall as well.

After shooting one last time, Dark raised his hand and hit the boss with Suffering. The monster dropped the halberd, staggered backward, and howled as he waved his hands through the air. He was burning with bright flame as the “napalm” coursed under his armor. Dark could tell his suffering was intense.

Especially now that is was multiplied by three.

In the next ten seconds, Dark managed to let loose two additional arrows. When he was hit, the boss’s health bar flashed ominously. It looked empty, so little was his remaining percentage of hit points. But still Dark’s attacks were not enough. The lord’s starting hit points were simply too great, even for his devastating Light Magic attacks.

Ceasing his howl, the boss knelt down, picked up his halberd, and stared at Dark. Flames burned in his eye sockets, promising his enemy a quick, cruel death.

Stepping backwards without meaning to, Dark grabbed the invulnerability potion he had found in the incestuous cave underneath the hut. Drinking it, he tossed the bottle away, drew his bow and fired, then pulled out another arrow, but by then, the boss was within striking distance.

He swung.

The top of the wall collapsed into so many blocks, and Dark was thrown violently to the side. He spun through the air. There was no pain, no trauma at all, no confusion—nothing could affect him negatively.

He couldn’t even suffer a scratch.

For twelve whole seconds.

When he neared the pavement, he bounced off before hitting it. Some physical force intervened him, sending him back up, spinning him further away.

At the end of this complicated path, the potion’s duration ended, and Dark at last crashed to the pavement. He lost some of his few remaining hit points, but not all, as his speed had been reduced significantly after so many rebounds.

Rolling over, he rose to one knee, raised his bow, and shot another arrow at the inexorably advancing boss. Drawing another, he let it fly, and reached for one more. His Stamina had reached zero. Too much had happened.

The earth’s rhythmic shaking ceased then, and the boss slowed. He began to sway, then half-spun around and crashed with such force that the remaining tiles on nearby houses, somehow spared from the bomb blast, shattered at last.

Another victory log was presented to Dark.

Note: Personal victory! The Dark Warlord Go’adzas, Eternal Lord of Omertis, is slain! Common Boss. Level 58. Location sensation level: 30%. Personal sensation level: 80%. Note: this was an undead creature. 1.5x experience! +88740 progress points received. Note: this was an undead creature. 1.5x distributable progress points! 17748 distributable progress points received.

The following skills played a significant role in this battle: Physical Attack, Acrobatics, Ranged Weapons, Physical Evasion, Reaction, Accuracy, Physical Critical Hit, Luck, Tirelessness, Magic Accuracy, Magic Critical Hit.

+992 Physical Attack progress points.

+386 Acrobatics progress points.

+3298 Ranged Weapons progress points.

+949 Physical Evasion progress points.

+274 Reaction progress points.

+18855 Accuracy progress points.

+365 Physical Critical Hit progress points.

+2849 Luck progress points.

+964 Tirelessness progress points.

+57312 Magic Accuracy progress points.

+2496 Magic Critical Hit progress points.

Note: You have discovered a new creature: The Dark Warlord Go’adzas, Eternal Lord of Omertis. Common Boss. Level 58. Base XP: 5800. Note: this was an undead creature. 1.5x experience! Health: 558440. Mana: unknown. Stamina: unknown. Aggression: aggressive, socially aggressive, summons horde, extremely vindictive, pursues its prey tirelessly. Magic abilities: unknown. Poison level: unknown. Chance of valuable loot: extremely high. Description: The undead form of the greatest warrior of Omertis, a lord who believed himself to be invincible. But death always wins in the end, and when it did, it forever bound the treacherous aristocrat to his lost city. All who risk stepping inside the walls of Omertis take a great risk. The centuries have no hold over Go’adzas. He will forever remain the great and cruel warrior of Ethria.

No player in the history of X has encountered the Dark Warlord Go’adzas, Eternal Lord of Omertis! You receive +8000 Knowledge progress points, +4000 Luck progress points, and +2000 Charisma progress points. Bonus +6 base skill levels, +2 craft skill levels, +1 stat level, +5000 distributable progress points, +2500 craft skill progress points. The leaders of the Explorers League may present you with a reward for adding creatures you have discovered from your personal bestiary to the league archives. Congratulations! Keep discovering new things to unlock more generous rewards!

Note: Check Global Announcements. And do not forget to choose a name for the hero star you have earned! Otherwise, its bonuses will remain inactive.

Choose a name? Dark had never thought of that.

Nothing came to mind.

Alert! The player Dark has, for the first time in the history of X, destroyed a dangerous monster: the Dark Warrior Go’adzas, Eternal Lord of Omertis. In addition, he defeated another dangerous monster: an Elite Ethrian Necromancer Lich. He accomplished this alone, without the slightest assistance from any other players. A great achievement worthy of the history books! Congratulations to this outstanding player! Continue achieving great feats and you will be rewarded!

Under this red message visible to all players, he saw a light blue one that was seen only by him.

Note: You have accomplished a global achievement! +7 distributable base skill levels, +5 distributable craft skill levels, +5 distributable stat levels, +3 distributable craft stat levels, +250 Charisma progress points.

Note: You have accomplished a great achievement! +3 free levels, +10 distributable base skill levels, +8 distributable craft skill levels, +8 distributable stat levels, +4 distributable craft stat levels, +1000 Luck progress points, +2500 Charisma progress points.

Note: You have completed your third great achievement! You receive your first Hero Star. You get a bonus! +50000 distributable base skill progress points, +20000 distributable craft skill progress points.

Select a name for the Hero Star you have earned!

Dark was a hero. Perhaps his level was still lower than DimaBilik’s, but he had matched him in achievements, for sure. He now dominated the global announcement chat.

How would the game react to this news? Would it react at all? Had he been a fool to disobey the voice of his mysterious adviser? Or had he executed a brilliant play? Would that person or people try to contact him again? Or would they now ignore him?

He didn’t know. But he could only imagine what was happening in the forum.

Chapter 55

Hello from an Old Friend

Total stat levels: 49 +21.

Character level: 8 +3.

Mastery level: 7.

Eyes glazed over, Dark looked at the next trophy: some kind of helmet, level 48, with a bunch of rewards issued for discovering it. Its stats were probably excellent, but he couldn’t be sure. After the battle, his brain was taking a break, so he found it supremely difficult to concentrate.

The boss and two of the elites between them had six powerful items never before seen in the modern history of X. This was a seventh, recovered from the final huge ghoul.

He estimated the zombies’ number with a sigh. He would lose a whole day, at least, looting every one of these monsters and bringing their loot outside of the walls. It had to be done urgently, before a new batch of monsters spawned within the walls. Their respawn period was unknown to him. Perhaps, like the ghosts, it was thirty hours. Barely enough time.

He wanted to instead explore the city while it was emptied of hostile mobs.

Bosses were rare monsters in this world. He doubted a moderately sized city could have more than one. Besides, this boss’s name indicated that he was the one who ran the place.

When he was attacked, every aggressive being in his domain ought to come running.

He needed to optimize his looting process somehow. How, when his head refused his demands that it think straight?

Perhaps five or ten minutes of rest would do him good. Get his mind off things for a moment. Sometimes that helped.

He rose and turned into the nearest alley, then sat on the lowest step of a stoop that ran up to the door of a huge estate. It was a decent place to get his mind in order. None of the wasted army was visible from here. He could think about something else now, rather than mentally toil over the prospect of collecting loot.

He could check out his stats and skills screen. See how much the fight had pumped them all.

Or, he could check out the forum. It would feel pretty good to see the abundance of new messages about him. Nearly all of the topics would be devoted to the discussion of a player named Dark. And theories about the victories he had just achieved.

One of whom was a boss. Even strong parties were often defeated by bosses.

Of course, none of them had any way of knowing that Dark’s position allowed him to spend two and a half thousand bombs with impunity. He had been fortunate that the blast had failed to take Go’adzas’s health to zero. Since the boss had been finished off by something other than the blast, the system had declined to penalize him.

As he considered these things, Dark opened the forum. All other thoughts left his mind immediately.

Fear replaced them all.

Panic.

Horror.

On the first page, he saw Spider’s face staring at him. The avatar was small, but high resolution. It was him, his cynical tormentor. Dark could not be mistaken.

His mind was shocked back into thinking by the terrible picture as if by a bucket of ice water. He was instantly focused, alert, intent. As he stared at the hated face, he analyzed the context.

There was nothing to fear.

Indeed, he would do better to rejoice.

Spider’s face was positioned in a banner ad. A game screenshot had been used to make the picture—Dark recognized the torture room as the backdrop of the shot.

A short message was positioned under his picture on the ad: “We’re getting close.”

The designers’ message was clear. They were trying to convince Dark that his time alone was coming to an end. That soon uninvited guests would intrude, seize him, and take him back to hell. Kidnapping was easy if you had access to a player’s body and character at the same time.

In addition, Kim’s cronies had access to some game options unavailable to ordinary players.

Dark concluded that this was nothing more than an attempt to exercise psychological control over him. They had no access to his character, and access to his body was only half of the puzzle. If they truly knew how to get to him, they would have come without warning. How could they think he was such a fool? Did they think he would panic at the sight of the banner? That he would emerge from hiding and open the door to this area that all of X’s players dreamed of accessing?

It wouldn’t work. Dark was certain that he was well hidden here.

Besides, for the time being, there was nowhere to run.

He gripped the scroll he held in his hands, which he had collected from the corpse of the boss without thinking.

Scroll of Teleport. Consumable. Uses: 1. Required level: 68. Using this scroll will relocate you to a location you select on the map. Note: This must be a location which you have visited at least once. Locations added to your map by means other than visiting cannot be teleported to.

Even all of the bonuses he had earned would not get him close to level 68. There was no escape yet.

The banner could not be in response to his recent victory. It was simple in design, of course, but his enemies would have needed to realize what had happened, think things over, consider a number of responses, choose one, and quickly employ an auto-designer. In addition to purchasing the advertising space. That could not be done in fifteen minutes.

So the banner had been present before, or scheduled in advance. It had likely been there since Dark’s first global achievement. He had simply failed to check. The past ten days had been too busy.

Every action, of course, was meant to cause a reaction. Kim expected something. Perhaps he had concluded that Dark’s failure to reveal himself meant he was paralyzed by fear.

Nothing could be further from the truth. He had simply been unable to answer! In addition, he had been unaware of the message in the first place.

But they had likely assumed he had seen it. They probably had a corkboard up with innumerable threads linking evidence and theories of his mysterious disappearance from the locked torture chamber and his subsequent heroic destruction of an undiscovered monster. Perhaps there was more that Dark was unaware of.

Well, he would answer their banner. Instead of succumbing to panic, their victim had defeated two powerful monsters never before seen, one of which was a mighty boss.

That was not the behavior of a victim. It was rare that newbs escaping dungeons in loincloths progressed to nonchalantly felling a boss and an elite in a single blow. He had to respond in a way that surprised Kim and his cronies, at least.

A way that surprised them unpleasantly.

They were likely rushing to design new banners now. What else could they do?

Stretching his lips into a smile, Dark spoke with a new confidence.

“Get ready for this, bastards. Here’s my response to your ad. And this is just the beginning.”

Note: The player Dark has made his choice. He receives a Hero’s Star he may add to his name, along with any phrase he selects! He selects the phrase “Fearless Pioneer.” Congratulations, hero! Continue achieving great feats and you will be rewarded!

Many thanks to my readers!

I would be very grateful if you leave your review about the book read
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07VD6RWJB

I would like to heartily recommend the books Play to Live by D. Rus, my good friend and one of the founders of the LitRPG genre. The Play to Live series is one of the finest works in the genre, and a must-read for any fan.

I want to recommend my friend G. Akella's Realm of Arkon series. For the past few years it's been one of the top series in both LitRPG and epic fantasy genres, and deservedly so.

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