《Skyborne Raider》 Chapter 1 - A Glimpse Beyond (Vision from the Future) A long, sharp metal rod pierces the atmosphere, nearly leaving a shockwave from the source of firing. The resonating sound lingers in my ears, intensifying my headache. A hooded archer sits not far from the large barrier, leaning backward on an artificial tilted pillar that resembles a shield made of dirt, fragments, and small rocks¡ªeverything you can find at the meeting of the borders of a dense coniferous forest and the lunar landscape. It gives the archer perfect leverage for drawing the bow, molded for his back, tilted at the precise angle. The thick sound that radiates quickly over the area from the release of the arrow produces enough energy to blow off some fragments from it. The smallest particles are now still sliding down from its surface. Few of them are spread towards me, I cover my eyes instinctively. Shot failed to deliver. The black metal rod disintegrates into tiny filings upon contact with the barrier. The archer opens his eyes wide, gasping for air in disbelief, ignoring me, focused only on his goal. The arrow disintegrating like this has never happened before. I¡¯m in shock as well, standing farther away, watching it. For a brief moment, I think I¡¯m back home and that all this is just a wild dream. Then I catch myself in the middle of the action, recognizing everything yet frozen, just watching. The particles from the pillar supporting the archer''s back slowly heal themselves. Dirt from close proximity to the archer levitates, rejoining the pillar¡¯s damaged surface and flattening it. This leaves the archer sitting in a clean circle, without any loose particles or dirt. Without further hesitation, he reloads. Leaning with his back on the pillar, his legs wide open, he pushes against the huge bow, which is almost at ground level and tilted to a horizontal position. His tall leather boots lock it in place. Both of his arms hold the bowstring. The wind blowing out from the target makes his loose dark green hood blow backward, revealing dense, thick hair. His only heavily armored pieces are the gauntlets. Pointy fingers, scaled surface. The material is rough with a significant texture. Pitch-black metal, resembling no single material produced on Earth. As his fingers move, so do the scales on the gauntlets, reflecting the lightning storm greatly. A never-ending storm rages over the lunar landscape. Small and large, lightning of all sizes flashes, making the overall scene dramatic. The wind, not alone in making noise, blows through the dense tree crowns, bending them. Loud rumbling thunder strikes the surface, hauntingly echoing through the area. Each thunderbolt whips gray soil and dust into the atmosphere. This never-ending storm has turned the area within the barrier into a lunar landscape. Not a single living thing is in sight beside the behemoth wyvern. The archer struggles to pull the bowstring of a massive bow, seemingly made of the same material as his gloves. I can tell he is pushing himself beyond his limits. The archer now practically lies on the ground, shifted from his pillar of rubble while his own body forms the skeleton of a crossbow. His bow is still empty; there is no arrow inside, just the bowstring spread wide. What the heck is he doing? Both of his legs are wide open, bracing over the bow, and both of his hands are pulling the bowstring without an arrow. How is he going to reload? I don¡¯t recognize any of this. Before I can even understand what he''s trying to achieve, the second bracelet on his right forearm starts to glow purple, matching the first. Beside the archer sits a ceramic vase with two leather strips and a ceramic lid. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. From the vase, a dark cloud of particles begins to emerge, forming into a black rod exactly where the arrow should be. The archer is concentrating to the maximum level. Sweat drips from his face into his mouth, his lips wide open, teeth clenched. Release A ring of mist appears with a loud echo on the spot, and a thick air projectile hits the archer''s back, blowing his cape off. It seems to have broken the sound barrier. I cover my right eye and press my forehead as the migraine hits, darkening my vision. Wiping the sweat away, I notice the inner fabric of my gauntlet is soaked with blood. I have to grab a nearby tree to keep my balance. My blood pressure must be sky-high; it feels like my head is about to explode and push my eyes out of my skull. The archer passes out from the shot, hitting his own pillar. The pillar that once supported his back disintegrates into particles, which roll down in all directions and cover his face. The metal rod pierces the air and finally hits the barrier again. About one-third of it gets through and falls inside the barrier onto the gray dusty surface. The rest of the arrow that didn¡¯t make it through disintegrates into black dust, sliding slowly down the outer side of the curved wall. This triggers an unwelcome surprise. The giant wyvern, covered in ash and dust, starts to move. Its huge claws pound the ground, complementing the thunder. One lightning bolt hits the wyvern as it sprints toward the archer. It strikes the dragon over its back with a loud thud. While its petrified body resists the shock, the electricity disintegrates into small shockwaves that move from the top of the dragon''s body down and diminish into the ground. The impact strength of the shot does little to the wyvern; it limps to the side but recovers instantly. The dragon opens its large mouth full of dirty teeth, resembling more stalagmites than actual teeth, with the texture and color of stone. I don¡¯t know what to expect. Will it simply run through the barrier and attack physically? I wonder, observing its giant paws that could easily stomp a large car. As the dragon moves, its stomps are as loud as thunder; the earth shakes, and I grab onto a nearby young tree. *Bang* A loud shot echoes from a distance. But this one is different; that''s not a bow. Something made it through the barrier. I see veins of yellow light coming from the impact and a few pieces like glass shards are falling out, leaving a hole in its curved wall. The veins drag from the hole in a diameter large enough to reveal the size of the barrier. It is a dome. A dome as large as the whole area where the storm occurs and the wyvern roams. I¡¯m not sure if the dragon took a hit, but I know what will happen next; its offense begins. The wide mouth opens even wider, and its eyes start to glow yellow. The mist and dust surrounding the wyvern hint at the temperature of its yellow eyes. Ripples from the burning air surround them. From its throat, a huge beam of energy forms and strikes forward. Its diameter is about the same as the neck of the beast. The golden beam shines through the whole area, lighting it up. It is continuous and lasts for a few seconds before shutting off. The sound it makes is literally badass. I can feel the resonation in my chest, the pulse, and the energy it produces; that power is tremendous. Together with the thunder and rumbling, I¡¯m terrified, yet hyped like a kid. But not for long. Apparently, it penetrated the dome, and I finally witness the aftermath. I see the torso of the archer sitting on the ground, leaning toward the remains of his pillar. The head and upper part of the torso are missing. The wounds are cauterized by the heat. Is this the first time I¡¯ve seen exposed flesh? It looks so surreal, like the laser beam didn¡¯t burn it but cooked it. The leftover corpse looks like it was made of wax. What the hell? I should be shaking and panicking, but I¡¯m not. Who was this brave archer? I ask myself. Confused, I look at my hands and over my body. How come I never noticed I¡¯m wearing plate armor? In delirium, looking around, the mighty wyvern interrupts me with its second roar. The epic charging sound resonates through the area once again. I focus my sight on the brightest spot. The same golden beam surrounded by sparks and electricity strikes farther from the archer¡¯s area. I believe that¡¯s where the second projectile came from. As the mighty wyvern annihilates everything in its path with the laser beam, my body reflexively throws me away to dodge the attack. As the dragon''s head moves from left to right, the beam destroys all the fauna and flora in its way, expanding the destruction of life. The place where the archer¡¯s leftover corpse was is unrecognizable. ¡°Markus! What the hell are you waiting for!¡± hisses an angry yet hushed voice. Chapter 2 - Mystery Figures (Vision from the Future, part 2) I¡¯m stunned. Did I just hear a voice? ¡°Huh?¡± I slowly turn my head to the left, my mouth open. There is a silhouette. Tall and slim. Completely sheathed in black. I¡¯m mildly shocked by its presence as it approaches closer, anxiety building up in my body. Its eyes are glowing gold, the same as the wyvern itself. Since I can¡¯t see any facial features, I have no idea if it¡¯s talking to me. The chaotic thudding of the wyvern running around in circles occupies my ear canals the most. The ground shakes, and the same sound starts to echo as it did twice before. The sound of its laser beam charging. I panic and look at the deity near me. It disappears into the shadows without any further interaction. Now I start to panic for real. Before I even decide where to make my first move, the beam starts to fire again. Bursts of golden energy hit the spot where the archer was and continue to destroy everything in their path, melting the soil, blowing out rocks, and burning all the fauna to charcoal. It moves from left to right, towards the place where I am standing, shaking. Fear and anxiety build up. The beam approaches, and I''m blinded by its shine and energy. This is how I imagine witnessing an atomic bomb''s glow from close proximity. The heat surrounding it makes my plate armor heat up like a pan. As panic and anxiety build up, my fear of burning alive in this armor feels as real as all this seems. All I can think of is the ancient torture device¡ªthe bronze bull. A liquid drips down my forehead and makes it near my lips. Instead of salty sweat I can taste the blood. My heart races, and all this escalates to even greater heat accumulating in my body. But this one is different; the enormous heat radiates from myself. From the bottom of my stomach, I feel something I¡¯ve never felt before in this part of my body, an unearthly tingling. Like a bottle of champagne just before the burst. Suddenly, out of nowhere, an insane idea sparks. What if I can? Not controlling my body, I crouch automatically, and the strength from my core is released. The incoming laser blast is about to hit. I feel my calves and hamstrings bloating, expanding, and the only thing slowing it is the strong armor itself. My skin feels rock hard, touching the inner shell of my armor, filling it with my flesh. The leather buckles are about to burst. Release The heavy metal boots are pushed into the dry rocky soil, almost to half of my ankles. I hear a loud thud from underneath me, and a circle of dust and soil emerges as the energy blast is released. My body leaps at the last second, avoiding the gruesome death of being melted. The energy released from my swollen legs is enough to catapult me toward the dome barrier and the wyvern. The distance is great, but so is the speed and power of the jump I just made. Flying at tremendous speed, I barely hear anything; all the banging, laser, and thunder sounds merge together. Taking a quick glimpse below, I see the tree canopies and remaining bushes flashing before my eyes. The laser burns through them with ease. The speed of my flight makes enough breeze that I catch a second breath and do not faint. I am confused about what I will do up there. Will I land on top of the dome and disintegrate while falling in? Or will I make it through and be annihilated by the wyvern? Curiously, my brain processes all these thoughts while I¡¯m flying toward the dome, like an adrenaline rush simulating time slowdown. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. My velocity is great, yet by a simple estimate, I know I won¡¯t get close to the wyvern. Halfway, yes, but not close enough. Based on what I¡¯ve seen the barrier do with the metal rod, I start to get even more afraid. I can barely acknowledge more of the surroundings, yet something catches my eye. There is a dark figure running on top of the dome trying to catch underneath me. Each step he takes ignites more and more burn under his feet. As the man becomes a torch burning alive, he jumps up, flying towards me from behind. ¡°You owe me one toe now, Mark!¡± I hear the same voice as before. A burst of energy hits me from the back, followed by an unpleasant sound. I can¡¯t comprehend what just happened. All I know is I got a boost in my leap. My hair and neck are suddenly wet and warm from behind. I was pushed toward the stormy sky with powerful mythical energy. But I have no clue how. Turning my head to the side, examining the situation, I see that my sides are covered in red. ¡°What the fuck..?¡± Pieces of burnt flesh are hanging from the creases of armor on my elbows and everywhere the separate metal parts connect. ¡°Is this me?¡± I wonder in shock, whispering to myself, trying to assess the damage. I tilt my head to the opposite side and notice the leftover arm, torn to pieces, hanging from underneath my elbow shoulder armor piece, which connects to the cuirass. ¡°Is this what''s left from that man?¡± It shakes with me a bit, and a shiver runs down my spine. Yet, in the boil of events, I concentrate on the flight. My fists are clenched tight as I fly upwards, closer to the target. The dome gets smaller beneath me, and I calculate when I will be over the wyvern. The beast is still pounding its laser beam, annihilating everything in its path, not paying attention to me. ¡°It lost track of me?¡± Not for long. After the beam stops, the nightmarish beast looks directly at me. Its glowing golden eyes stare into my soul. Its head tilts straight upwards ninety degrees, without moving its body or long neck. Oddly terrifying, I creep out for a moment. The head locks onto me precisely, following my movement. As I expect, the same scenario repeats¡ªthe sound of charging its laser beam. I¡¯ve reached my peak velocity, and I¡¯m falling. It seems the barrier field somehow affects gravity, making me fall slower than expected. No, is my mind working too fast at this moment, so I comprehend all of this in a blink of an eye? I wonder again. Opening my eyes wide in awe, I notice something off about my scaled metal gauntlet. My fist is still tightly closed, and the ring finger is completely missing the armor. Only the thin fabric covers it, presumably linen by the color and texture. The glove underneath the plate armored gauntlet covers my finger with a black ring on it. The ring is silky smooth on the surface and looks almost plastic or shiny rubber, but I can feel its significant weight. Looking down at the wyvern, I see the golden light between its giant teeth. My eyes land again on my hand. I have this urge, an indescribable urge to open my fist and let my hand go loose. My fingers unravel, facing down at the wyvern. It feels like slow motion. I observe every single detail of my gauntlet, unable to take my eyes off the ring. As my fist releases and the fingers face down, I feel an extreme burden. The ring slowly slips off my finger, tearing the glove fabric with it. The skin on my finger is sore and seems burnt from a single stroke. A loud whistling completely deafens me. Acute pain shoots to my brain as I look at my burnt ring finger. The ring slides off my finger at a speed I can¡¯t comprehend; it almost feels like it vanished, but I swear it slid off. *Glass shattering piercing sound* The falling ring hits the top of the dome. A large part of the dome shatters instantly from the impact. I hear an extremely loud ringing, like breaking all the windows on a shiny glassy skyscraper at once. The ring bursts straight through the wyvern and into the ground. A huge pile of dust emerges as the dragon is completely destroyed, torn to pieces in the newly formed crater beneath me. *Ding. Ding. Ding. Din. Di-di-di-di-di. Ding.* The sound of the bell, clear at first, begins to stutter and collapses into a crashing noise. I cover my eyes with my arm and free fall into the crater. Chapter 3 - Daydream ¡°What the heck was that?¡± I take a deep breath after waking up from the craziest dream. My eyes remain closed as I try to figure out where the hell I am. My memory is jumbled, and my head hurts. Refusing to open my eyes until I can piece things together, I mentally run through the list of things I planned to do today. - First of all, go to school. - Then, take a walk through the city park, which connects to the forest. - Kill the dragon that was shooting lasers?! ¡°Yep, I''m definitely still in my bed.¡± ¡°Again. My dream was gory and epic. Why can''t I just have a calm, normal dream of hanging out with my friends or maybe making out with my girlfriend? ¡°Because you don¡¯t have either of those,¡± my brain answers immediately. Great. A self-burn, the best way to start your morning.
Wiggling a bit, I can¡¯t even figure out my position. Am I lying down, standing, or sitting? I hear some muffled voices suddenly. So, it must be class. This is embarrassing. Did I just fall asleep at my desk? Again. I ask myself this and refuse to open my eyes until I''m fully aware of what''s going on. I decide to stay still, pretending to be deep in thought, just in case someone noticed. I lean forward slightly, and my head starts to spin. ¡°Am I losing balance while sitting?!¡± The ground beneath my feet doesn''t feel stable anymore. I must be standing, then. I twitch and panic, realizing there''s something squishy under my feet. Is it loose soil? I breathe in deeply and realize the noise I''m hearing is birds chirping, not people talking. ¡°I must be in a park!¡± But I don''t remember the last time I dreamed outside of my bed¡ªespecially while standing. *Quick blink* Fear starts the shivering. I am facing a ravine. A bright, wide-open forest, full of beech trees, a deep ravine with a quiet stream at the bottom. I¡¯m standing on the edge. My body starts to wiggle, and I panically look both to my left and right to grab onto something. Shit! Nothing there at all. To avoid falling forward, I briefly decide to shift my weight backward and end up on my butt. ¡°Phew.¡± The only thing that got damaged are my beige sweatpants. Now I definitely have a stain on my butt, the color of soil. Brown and wet. Great. But my appeasement does not last for long. The edge I¡¯m sitting on is tearing away with me included. Nothing to grab onto, I start to slide. ¡°Aaaargh... Shit, shit, shit!¡± Cursing in anger is all I can do. All I comprehend now is that I¡¯m sliding down the deep ravine. Not worried about the fate of myself, but rather the clothes, belongings, and the shame while walking back to my place with my stained ass. My sneakers are drilling their way through the mud, occasionally tripping over the roots sticking out of the sloping surface. *Splash* To top it off, my fall ends with a drench into the stream. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. I exhale in disbelief. ¡°What a day. Nothing can surprise me now, seriously.¡± I quickly tap my pockets to check on the most important things. My keys and my phone. Everything intact, at least. Except for the bruise I will definitely have from one of my keys that successfully buried into my thigh. Confidently, I grab onto the first stick I see on the ground. It is stuck between the roots and the gravel near the water. I wiggle it out, while it splashes some additional dirt into my face. I was probably never that happy to take a shower in my life. To get out of this and climb up, I use the stick for support. No time for risking sliding again on my front side, having another brown stripe across me. Enough that I look like a reversed skunk now. I giggle at my own thoughts. One step at a time, up the steep ravine, occasional grabs on the sticking crooked root, and I¡¯m up. Quickly reorienting myself, I look at the path I came from. But wait¡ªI pause for a moment. What the actual heck just happened? I remember the wildest daydream of my life¡ªan enormous dragon was laser-beaming people around me, and I killed it with my¡­ ring? Holy crap. I look at my dirty hands, recalling how I¡¯d seen the ring. Of course, I¡¯m not wearing one. This wasn¡¯t the first time I zoned out, but not to this extent. I take it as a sign that I should start doing something about it. Looking up at the trees, I wonder, ¡°Is this what artists call a kick from the muse?¡± I should definitely remember that dream¡ªmaybe write a blog about it. ¡°Hell yeah! I should write this down right now.¡± Temporarily storing the stick that I just found under my armpit, I flick my phone up. My dirty hands with soil under my nails barely unlock the phone. I swipe the screen over my not-so-flat belly, over my turquoise shirt. The fabric is linen, not silky smooth, rather coarse, but it¡¯s not a big deal for my old weathered phone, even without the screen protector. Opening up my Tasks app, I start to pound the dream I just had word by word. A few lines in and I¡¯m abruptly interrupted. *Wild screeching* pierces my ear and creates a great shock to me. I¡¯m stunned for a bit, yet by the pitch of the screech, I can tell it¡¯s not anything large, like a giant bird or a wild boar And why the hell would such an animal even be here? Close to the city. I comfort myself. Turning my head to the right, my eyes stop at ground level. Not so big, not so small either. Fluffy large tail, small paws with rather long claws, elongated body, and a small head. Damn. That face tells everything. This is not a marten, this is a little devil. The size of a regular cat, but with teeth triple the size of a feline. Angry at me as hell, staring into my soul, I can see it wants to tear me up in many ways. Yet I¡¯m not afraid. This is my melting point¡ªthose adorable circular tiny ears. ¡°Aaaww.¡± I want to scratch it behind those with my index finger. Yet, looking back at its expression, I know it would rather bite my finger off. *Sceeching and a loud bark!* I start to panic and hide my phone back in my pocket. My hand slowly reaches for the stick I¡¯m leaning on. ¡°Ah fuck!¡± My eyes are wide open as the marten starts to sprint toward me and jumps. It claws onto my left leg, scratching and probably biting my knee through the sweatpants. Can¡¯t tell in all the shock but I wiggle it furiously. It jumps back away and continues to screech. Horrified, my voice trembles as I repeat through my teeth. ¡°What the fuck! What the fuck!¡± A train of thought flashes through my mind. ¡°Yes, my mom used to teach me how to repel aggressive dogs from irresponsible owners at the park.¡± I raise my foot and thump on the ground as strongly as possible. *Nothing happens. And the aggressive marten is gearing up for another attack.* Modern sneaker soles combined with squishy soil covered in autumn leaves are the perfect noise suppressor. This barely makes any sound. Loud animal screeches continue, followed by the swift zig-zag movements of the marten. Or I guess it¡¯s a marten, or a skunk? Wait, I do look like one now from behind, no? "This ain¡¯t ending well!" Says my inner voice.
¡°But not for me!¡± I yell out loud. ¡°You little fucker ferret thingy!¡± Through my clenched teeth, I start to scream. The fear quickly turns to anger. Dirty as a bum, now with a potential risk of infection from the bite of this thing, and the memory of the epic dream I just had is vanishing away as my short-term memory fills with this bullshit. ¡°Once. In. A damn. Year!¡± ¡°I decide. To go. To the damn. Nature.¡± I angrily yell through my teeth while sweeping and slashing the stick on the ground in front of me about eight times. I don¡¯t care if I hit and kill the ferret or whatever it is. ¡°I don¡¯t give a fuck if you are a protected animal either!¡± I yell. All I want is to have some time alone now. The bark on the end of the stick is torn to pieces, hanging there as I slash deep cracks and furrows into the ground. At least it works.
Finally, the thing is gone. It¡¯s running away, probably from both my screams and aggressiveness. I exhale and consolidate my thoughts, throw away the stick, and dust off what''s possible from my clothes. Time to walk back and focus on the present, my steps, and surroundings. I inhale the fresh air and listen to the dry and colorful beech leaves crunching under my feet. Remembering the dream. My concentration doesn¡¯t last long, and I start to wander back in time, winning imaginary arguments in my head and replaying memories. This keeps zoning me out as always. Sudden noises in the distance wake me and return me to reality. ¡°The footsteps?¡± I pause for a moment and imagine all the possible creatures it may be from the sound. Four strokes repeating while crunching the leaves. ¡°What else? The angry deer?¡± I wonder. *Muffled voices* "Now the voices? Argh.¡± I sigh. Better to meet the deer than people. Two figures appear in the distance and are coming across my way. One taller and the other shorter. Chapter 4 - Good Deed It¡¯s too late now to suddenly change course. Dirty and sweaty, with messy hair, I continue my straight path with a poker face. ¡°Good day,¡± greets a tall slim guy with a head-shorter girl standing by his side, holding a wicker basket. ¡°Uh, hi.¡± I greet them as awkwardly as possible, running my hand through my hair, making it less disheveled. ¡°Are you alright?¡± asks the freckled girl, looking kind of frightened. Her eyes do a quick peek at my legs. I wiggle my knee, and she notices it. There are some small red marks, probably blood, and the fabric is a bit torn. So indeed, the little fucker¡¯s claws did pierce through. ¡°Yeah, I had some accidents here and there.¡± I point my finger into some random ravine. ¡°Is that blood?¡± the guy asks, pointing to my knee. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t believe it, but I got ambushed by a damn ferret or marten or whatever it was. So be aware.¡± Giving them advice, I maintain my poker face and attempt to carry on. The pale red-haired girl leans as her basket starts to wiggle. It reveals a white fluffy cat that peeks out in the most adorable way. ¡°We have protection,¡± she smiles and chuckles, saying it in a cheerful tone. I can''t help but be surprised and smile back. "That''s a cute little fellow," I remark. "Indeed, his name is Pocco," says the girl. I pause for a moment, considering whether it''s okay to pet him. But he¡¯s so adorable I can¡¯t resist and quickly extend my hand and give him a gentle pat between his tiny beige ears. What a calm buddy, compared to my recent wildlife encounter. I notice there are two small mushrooms with orange tops next to the cat. The guy notices me looking at the mushrooms and tells me about their little stroll while gathering some edible ones. ¡°I hope you¡¯ll be lucky with your hunt.¡± I wish them well and use it as leverage to part our ways. Rude, but I didn¡¯t even introduce myself. Anyway, I continue my walk towards the known entrance. After a few dozen steps, I see the small hill surrounded by a ravine in the distance. I squint my eyes and focus my sight as I don¡¯t believe it. Orange dots are all over the place. From pure curiosity, I decide to get closer. It is a large family of aspen mushrooms. Well, large is quite the weak word for it. It¡¯s huge; there are dozens and dozens of them. ¡°Hmm.¡± It would be right to tell those two people I just met, my conscience tells me. Turning around and jogging back, I try to catch up with them. When I¡¯m finally close, I stop before they notice me, so it¡¯s not creepy that I run after them. ¡°Uh, hey! Hey guys, I¡¯ve found something you may like.¡± They both turn quickly and look at me, surprised why I¡¯m back there. "Over there, on that hill." I turn around and point my finger in the direction. Quite happy that I did some insignificant but good deed after a long time. As I move back, passing the area I just showed them, I hear the frantic footsteps of a man rushing toward me, with the girl following closely behind. He extends his hand for a handshake and introduces himself. "Thank you for the tip. I''m Michael, and this is Astrid. You already know Pocco." Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. Now at least, I will introduce myself properly. "Markus," I respond to both him and the girl. I awkwardly search for a clean spot on my clothes to wipe off my right hand, not wanting to offer him a muddy hand for a handshake. Suddenly, the cat Pocco leaps out of the basket, and I catch a glimpse of his striped tail with a darkish gray and beige color, just like his ears. He dashes away toward the mushroom spot and then sits in the sphinx position, waiting there. That small cat melts my heart and brightens my mood, so I decide to take a little detour and maybe collect some for myself too. Maybe ask them for a recipe? It¡¯s not quite common for people to forage mushrooms here, but I assume they know what they are doing. They collect them, clean them, and carefully place them into the basket, where the fluffy ball was a while before. Before I get my hands on the ground, I look around. There is nothing special but a shallow circular hole surrounded by the mushrooms. Kinda strange how perfectly round it is, I assume. As I turn my head slightly to the side, I catch a glimpse of that hole with the corner of my eye. Shivers run down my spine. It flashes black. What the..? Looking straight into it, I see normal-looking ground covered in leaves, just as before. But if I look away, it seems deep and pitch black, like a well or a sinkhole appearing instead. I quickly look straight at it once again to confirm, and it is shallow. Is my mind playing tricks on me? I blink slowly and wipe my eyes. Fumes from the mushrooms? As I look away, the sinkhole reappears once again. "Ugh." Okay, this is haunting as fuck. Should I tell them about this? They might think of me as a lunatic, or not? Suddenly, the girl Astrid screams for the fluffy Pocco. I turn around quickly and see the cat stride towards me, passing by and into the shallow hole. He completely disappears into thin air, in front of my eyes. Huh?! This is nonsense! I quickly rub my eyes again. Why would an animal do such a thing? *Meow* She yells again, ¡°Pocco!¡± The guy Michael drops his bag on the ground and sprints without thinking twice toward me. He stops and looks at the weird spot, a bit frightened. Wait, he sees the hole? Before I even have a chance to tell him anything, he runs straight toward the hole, gripping onto a strong flexible branch on the nearby young tree and looking inside while swinging a bit. ¡°Hey, I think I see him. He¡¯s hanging below the edge. Help me quickly! This thing is deep!¡± ¡°Deep? What are you talking about?¡± says the girl and goes straight near the edge of the hole. ¡°What are you doing! Careful!¡± Michael yells and tries to grab her, but she just simply walks in and vanishes in front of my eyes, the same as Pocco, like a ghost. I can¡¯t even react to this. In shock, I watch with my eyes wide open as it is completely wild. ¡°Nooo! Why did you just... Astrid?!¡± the guy yells, terror-struck. ¡°Hey!¡± He turns his sight to me and yells at me. ¡°Why are you just standing there? She just fell in! Help me, for Christ''s sake!¡± I look at him, being slowed down and confused. ¡°Fell?¡± I frown and gaze into the hole while walking towards it. Approaching the edge of a shallow depression, I look briefly at the guy again, and in the corner of my eye, a deep black sinkhole reappears. My head starts spinning. I feel like I''m losing my balance. My hand automatically grabs his jacket, and we are falling in. It feels so slow. I suddenly realize the small details: his stubble, strands of his black straight hair, and his gray eyes with a terrified and angry expression looking at me. The branch he is holding onto is ripping off.
"Are you alright, Astrid?" the tall guy asks with concern. Retrieving his phone, he switches on the flashlight and scans the surroundings, checking on Astrid. "You okay as well?... Markus," he adds, pointing the phone at me. "Yeah," I reply, looking at him through my fingers as he shines the flashlight in my face. Glancing up briefly, I notice the stars shining above. "Huh?" Is it nighttime already? "How long have we been here?" I wonder aloud. "Well, according to my phone, it''s still early afternoon," says Michael. ¡°Well, then look up.¡± I say and quickly search my pockets and retrieve my phone. ¡°Shit, the time is the same, and my signal is cut off.¡± Michael hops out of the hole with ease and looks around, ¡°It''s cold, and I don''t recognize the surroundings.¡± He spins around. ¡°Wait, I see the light! Someone might be there. Hey!¡± He offers his hand to Astrid and pulls her out, then does the same with me. We walk together toward the light.
And there it is. In the middle of the forest, a bronze bowl burning an oddly steady and smooth flame. It''s warm, yet it''s impossible to kindle or expand it, as Michael tries to set one stick on fire. He then waves his hand through the flames. "It''s warm, but the heat isn''t building up," he observes. The area surrounding the flame feels oddly safe and cozy. Astrid approaches the flame, warming both her hands and the fluffy Pocco. ¡°No GPS, no signal. Moving in the cold and dark would be unwise,¡± Michael observes. ¡°So what now?¡± I ask, my voice edged with panic. We¡¯re all in shock, and I notice Astrid pinching her skin, trying to reassure herself this isn''t a dream. ¡°I... I don¡¯t know. Do we stay here for a while?¡± the tall guy stutters, uncertain. I nod in agreement, feeling drowsy as the warmth of the flame wraps around me, making me feel oddly cozy. I button my shirt up to my neck and start gathering the dry leaves around us, piling them into a makeshift bed. The couple does the same, curling up together with the cat. What absolute madness this is. My mind struggles to make sense of it, but as I gaze into the flame, an instant calm washes over me. My thoughts quiet, and I quickly drift into sleep. Chapter 5 - The New World I wake up first, facing the sky, watching the tree canopies'' edges, avoiding touching each other - they create mesmerizing mosaics that catch my sight for a while. My head turns to the right to check on the strangers, and a satisfying crunch of fallen autumn leaves crackles in my ear. They are sleeping on their sides and nothing unusual catches my eye, the forest looks normal, and the air is clean and fresh. ¡°This was just a dream yesterday, wasn¡¯t it?¡± I whisper to myself. Barely unlocking my phone with my dirty fingers, I go to fill my hopes. "Ah, hell no." Sadly, it¡¯s the same result as yesterday¡ªno signal, no GPS, no mobile service, nothing. Turning my head to the other side, I reevaluate everything as shivers run down my body. The fire inside the bronze bowl burns straight and strong, and the bowl itself is indeed floating in the air¡ªit was no illusion. How? Why? I relocate myself quietly closer to it and stick my hand underneath it while still laying on the ground, waving there. I check for any invisible stand and tap the bowl from the bottom with my fingernails. The metal resonates slightly. The bowl itself is cold; only the flame radiates a pleasant warmth. I try to push it, but it¡¯s rock solid. I come to the conclusion that there must be a gigantic magnet underneath. I bet rich people have firepits like this. My only concern is, why is it here? In the middle of nowhere. For a moment, I think of reality. Knowing my mom, she has probably already alarmed the whole neighborhood, university, and the police. "Geez." I sigh. This will be annoying once I¡¯m back. I take a deep breath of cold morning air and stand up. Guess it¡¯s time to hike home, but leaving these two alone would be more than rude. As I observed that the fire is still intact and burning as before, the forest has slightly changed. It''s less dense and well-lit. I can see where it ends, the meadow bathed in sunshine peeking in the distance. ¡°Impossible to get lost here. I should head out and look for any landmarks. Our tall church will do the best, I bet.¡± Waking up these two is definitely inappropriate, so I decide to get a walking stick in the meantime. Now it''s time to use my tiny folding knife. I look around to explore some nearby bushes. A few steps further, carefully avoiding dry branches to minimize sound, I stop in front of a young hazel. ¡°Ah, this one.¡± A thick and young catches my sight, heavy and solid. Looks reliable.
Waiting for them to wake up, I kill time trying to carve some runes and rhombus patterns on my stick, purely out of boredom. I remove the bark and soften the handle part carefully. After some time, I catch a glimpse of movement in my peripheral vision; the furball is waking up. That cat is definitely a morning bird. I stand there silently and watch him doing his probably standard cat routine when waking up. Stretching the body and extending paws, but against the girl''s parka, thus waking her up. She starts to slowly open her eyes. ¡°Morning,¡± she says, looking at me. The guy Michael opens his eyes in the blink of a second and jumps up. ¡°Heyy, we are going already?¡± He completely ignores the fact that the forest has changed. He notices my walking stick and immediately grabs the first stick, long, slim, and flexible. Is he trying to copy me? His sight then lands on my amateurish carvings. "Hey! What is this? You got some skills." I don¡¯t even have time to react to his small talk, and he freaks out, jumping straight into a defensive position with a disoriented, fearful sight. ¡°Wh.. Wha... What is going on?! What is this? Astrid! You see that too, right? Astrid?¡± She looks confused while holding the cat. ¡°Markus? You?!¡± Okay, this freaks me out. What the hell is wrong with him? ¡°What?¡± I ask, kinda freaked out. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. He says with eyes wide open. ¡°You don''t see it? There''s a bronze plate levitating, there''s my name on it, and some bullshit written.¡± ¡°It appeared out of nowhere. Just as I mentioned your carving skills.¡± ¡°Fuck, it disappeared!¡± The girl Astrid still looking startled, holding Pocco, watching this nonsense situation. I clear my throat and say out loud, ¡°Skills!¡± Oh. My. Fucking. God. I see it¡ªthe thick, bronze-brushed plate levitating in front of me, with my name written on it as well. The font is medieval, carved into the plate. It''s beautiful and I extend my hand trying to touch it, but it passes through it like it was not there. The first thing that comes to my mind: VR glasses. I''ve seen this before; this is similar yet different. Extremely realistic, not like any other experience. Apple¡¯s new headset is embarrassing compared to this. Is this some sort of game or a prank? ¡°Can you open your eyes wider?¡± I quickly move into the tall man''s private space bubble and look him in the eyes. ¡°What?!¡± He frowns. ¡°I am checking for lenses, contact lenses, whatever.¡± I explain to him. ¡°Nothing right?¡± He assumes after seeing my confusion. Analyzing this, I wonder why it is way too otherworldly and surreal. Maybe we did fall into a really deep hole and I¡¯m unconscious. Where am I even? I ask myself. In a hole? Hospital? Or dead? Questioning reality, I admit it must be a dream. Fire that burns out of nowhere and now this? I mutter to myself. Michael wakes me from my zoned-out state by snapping his fingers in front of my face. ¡°Mark?¡± He rolls his sight towards the girl. ¡°Astrid? What are your plates saying? Mine is..¡±
Michael Ambers foreigner level 1
Strength 4 no skill
Agility 3 no skill
Willpower 2 no skill
Endurance 4 no skill
*Astrid clears throat*
Astrid Alm foreigner level 1
Strength 2 no skill
Agility 4 no skill
Willpower 6 no skill
Endurance 2 no skill
Comforting myself that this is just a dream, I stop questioning the situation.
Markus Hale foreigner level 1
Strength 4 no skill
Agility 3 no skill
Willpower 4 no skill
Endurance 3 no skill
Everyone is quiet. I bet they are comprehending and thinking. Foreigners? Is this a new world? Country, planet, or even universe? I study the fields on the plate and tap on them. Looks like it is possible to unlock some sort of skill for every attribute. There is an empty field for it. I wonder when and how? I''m so curious right now. Are there more skills than one? Are they interchangeable? So many questions. ¡°What else can we see?¡± I say out loud and then try to shout words. ¡°Map!¡± - nothing happens ¡°Inventory!¡± - nothing happens ¡°Items!¡± - another bronze window exchanges the skills window. ¡°There is an Items menu, but it''s empty!¡± I say out loud while I try to hover over it with my stick. "Whaa!" I flinch as it starts to shrink and moves inside the bronze plate. Freaking out, I release the stick quickly from my hand. For a brief moment, I thought it would suck and shrink myself or my arm with it too. Astrid watches it shrinking and disappearing from my hands, here eyes wide open. ¡°Insanity!¡± she comments on it while slowly zooming her head towards me.
Everyone keeps fiddling with their own plates. I try to take out the stick again, and it expands immediately in my hand. The moment it is its original size, I grasp onto it and it perfectly fits. ¡°Wow, wow. Just stop shaking..¡± I comfort myself, knowing this is way too exciting. Still can¡¯t believe my eyes. The illusion and the transition are perfect. Completely realistic. What is next is my tiny folding knife, smartphone, and keys. As I slip them in they easily fit inside this bronze panel, occupying exactly one spot per item. Fidgeting around, I pick them up and down, checking for any abnormalities or item changes. My old weathered smartphone still works very well. Astrid and Mike copy me and store their belongings too. ¡°What a perfect way to lighten my pockets and transport stuff," the ginger girl notes. I continue the testing. ¡°Statistics!¡± - nothing happens ¡°Quests! Quest log!¡± - nothing happens ¡°Menu! Settings! Map! Spells! Exit! Escape!¡± - nothing happens Using all my knowledge from playing a LOT of games, this whole thing feels like the best dream. ¡°Skills! Skills! Skills! Skills! Skills! Skills!¡± shouts Michael, and I giggle a little as he tries to abuse the system. ¡°Any lag?¡± I question right after. ¡°Zero. It¡¯s perfect. Beautiful.¡± My eyes are watering. I don¡¯t know if this is really just a dream or whatever, but I don''t remember being so excited in a while. Completely forgetting what is happening back home, all I want now is to learn more about this system and world if it¡¯s not the same.
¡°So what now?¡± My fidgeting is over as the eager tall man can¡¯t sit there anymore. ¡°Let''s get out of these woods. Come on!¡± he says and grabs his girlfriend by the hand. They start moving straight to the meadow. She follows him without any questions, and the cat walks calmly beside her. We don¡¯t talk much; I simply follow them and occasionally pet the cat as it keeps turning back to see if I follow.
After a short walk through the forest and tall grass, we are in the middle of the meadow that was beyond the forest. Surrounded by the woods, there appears to be a muddy crossroad in the distance, dividing this large meadow into four. The tall grass blades are swaying in the rhythm of the wind and I open my arms wide and allow the wind to blow freely through my turquoise shirt. The girl''s ginger hair with braids is dancing in the wind like flames and she turns around to me, smiles, and copies my gesture. I notice her straight thin nose covered in freckles and very light skin. Indeed, the wind is very refreshing, and the air feels oddly clean, yet the tall thin man continues to walk against it, ignoring it while covering his neck with his black jacket. The whole moment is interrupted as one of the waves of grass stops moving right in front of my legs. I can feel something heavy pushing against me. ¡°What the..?¡± I back away one step. A huge fluffy brown rat-like creature jumps out in front of me! I look it in the eye, and a small red bar appears over its head with tiny white letters on top. Chapter 6 - First Encounter Cropfield Nutria, Level 1 I scream in sudden shock and back away, stomping the tall grass. Michael, the tall, thin man, reacts immediately¡ªhe jumps to my side and strikes the rat on the head and eyes with his flexible stick. His girl watches closely, clutching the fluffy ball. Did I just scream like a little girl? I assume based on the suspicious smirk on Mike¡¯s face. The red bar over the creature''s head shrinks about one-tenth of its length and I blink slowly in disbelief, trying to comprehend what just happened. I¡¯m still baffled about the floating AR panels, not to mention the progress bars of health. I guess I should stop being useless. It''s my turn now. ¡°Items!¡± I say loudly and take out my carved walking stick. The expanding animation of the stick that slowly grows in my hands is priceless. Meanwhile, the black jacket covers my view as Mike fully takes over the combat. All I hear are rat-like screeches and the smacking and whistling of a flexible hazel rod in the air. I move aside and another suspicious wave is coming toward me. ¡°This will be it!¡± Timing my hit precisely, I smash the bulge with all my strength. It makes a muffled blunt sound. I expected some screeching, but nothing. Did I just? That simply? *Fwoosh* The fat rat jumps out of the grass, and its curved teeth are aiming for my lower half. Surprisingly, avoiding this clumsy attack, I smack the beast in the middle of the head. *Muffled bonk* It is resistant. The solid heavy skull and thick fur must have absorbed the blow, as the health bar did not shrink that much. Based on a brief calculation, this thing will go down with more than ten heavy hits. *Smash* After another blow, the creature extends fully from the grass, and I analyze its build: it is dirty and fat with tiny sharp paws and a large head connected to the body without any significant neck. As I choose now to aim for its furry body, after one bang, a dust cloud emerges. I scoff a little, as this reminds me of some old duvets. ¡°Another one!¡± Astrid, the pale girl, screams while holding Pocco. I turn around to the next creature, but it''s already too late. Nutria quickly rushes and bites my beige sweatpants. A bit of rage fills my head as the creature leaves a hole in my pants. *Bang, bang, bang* I furiously smash it with all the strength I have in me. "Damnit!" The fat body absorbs the hits very well, if my stick weren''t so thick, it would be broken already. Meanwhile, Michael notices I have to deal with two of them, so he proceeds to dodge and slash the first one faster over the snout and the eyes. While avoiding clumsy jump attacks, I notice the red bar over Michael¡¯s one. It¡¯s almost fully depleted now, and the creature just stops moving after the last hit. He joins me and helps with the second one as I furiously beat the third. After a consecutive chain of heavy thuds, it''s done. Depleted health bar and the creature laying on the ground lifeless.
"Jesus, this is horrible," I conclude, my eyes watery. I never ever hit a living thing in my life, not to mention killed. The only excuse now is that they attacked first. Their bodies are strong and bulky, yet they seem to be pretty weak and dumb. Why didn¡¯t they run away? As the grass blades move in the air I see that there are more incoming, and I decide to let one of them come close and start attacking first. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. Shitty way of justifying my actions, but if it makes me feel better, then why not. As their paws bury inside the thick fabric of my pants, I can feel the sting on my knee. This small amount of pain makes me smack the beast with my heavy baton. *Bang* After a few hits, I notice that the beast is getting physically slower, not only does the health bar shrink. *Swoosh, bonk, bang and smash* Seven more blows over the head and body while slowly backing with a hole in my pants. The beast is stunned for a brief moment, and that is my chance for a finishing move. I switch my grip on the stick to both hands and smash it from over my head, giving it the final bash! *Ding* "The hell?" The sound of a tiny bell over my head? I wonder for a moment. ¡°Hey, ehm, Michael. Did you hear that too?¡± ¡°What? Just call me Mike, man,¡± he answers while standing over the lifeless body. ¡°Astrid, you?¡± She shakes her head. Strange. I look up in the sky. What if? "Skills!" Opening my Skills menu, there is on the top right corner another small field near my level. It says +1. So level 1 +1. ¡°Err, I think I got a level up. Is the Nutria in front of you dead?¡± I ask him. Mike pokes the unconscious rat with the stick and asks me for something sharp. He¡¯s probably seen my petite knife earlier. Astrid looks concerned for a second. Taking out my knife, with a brief hesitation, unfolding it, I offer it with the grip facing toward him. Is he going to do what I think he is? Stab the creature with this? Astrid waits eagerly, frowning. He flips his stick and uses my knife to grate the thick end of his stick into a sharp tip. ¡°Seriously, Mikey..?¡± Pale girl has no time to finish her sentence. *Tschchk* In the neck is where the pointy stick ends. The last squeal we hear from the suddenly awakened beast is kinda disturbing. ¡°Yeah, I hear it!¡± Mike shouts, way too excited. I observe him as he mutters and wonder if he takes this seriously or not. ¡°Hmm, hmm, hmpf, I think, I think, let¡¯s assign this to, no idea what does what. Agility! So let it be.¡± I notice his legs twitch a little when he does so.
Michael Ambers foreigner level 2
Strength 4 no skill
Agility 4 no skill
Willpower 2 no skill
Endurance 4 no skill
Now it¡¯s my turn. With my plate opened, I tap, hover, and hold my fingers over the stats to get any feedback, but it¡¯s not interacting. No labels nor captions. Guess I need to blindly choose. ¡°I will put mine in strength,¡± I say out loud. A bit concerning is that I found giving those strong attacks weirdly amusing. Right after pointing my finger over the plus button near strength, I feel my arms slightly stiffen for a fraction of a second. Almost like a convulsion, but weaker. Or maybe it¡¯s all just a placebo.
Markus Hale foreigner level 2
Strength 5 no skill
Agility 3 no skill
Willpower 4 no skill
Endurance 3 no skill
¡°What?!¡± Astrid asks madly, while Mike gazes at her. ¡°You know what.¡± Two nutrias are casually laying on the ground, hyperventilating. ¡°Forget this!¡± She turns around while resting her hand on Pocco''s head. Mike does not hesitate and suggests we split on the remaining two. I nod and flip out my knife to copy his move - quickly sharpening one end of my stick. *Squelch* I don¡¯t dare to aim for the eye as it makes me way too uncomfortable, so my sharp tip buries inside its small ear. No bell sounds though. ¡°Nothing, right? We need more!¡± Mike tells me, and I nod. Astrid just scoffs. Can¡¯t deny I¡¯m in a bit of shock, but this guy enjoys it way too much.
I walk behind the couple, Pocco is left on his own and joins me for a little stroll. I overhear that Mike is explaining to Astrid some default gaming mechanics. I watch the grass closely for any incoming waves.
After a few dozens steps, another nutria pops out, rushing at me. ¡°Pocco!¡± Astrid doesn''t even need to call him; the fluffy cat strides back toward her and jumps into her arms. *Smash* My heavy stick with a bloody pointed end hits the creature over the snout. *Crack* My attack is blocked as it opens its mouth wide, biting around my stick, locking it around. "Hey!" Mike rushes in an instant and pokes it in the eyes. The beast squeals but still does not let loose my stick, and one more pops out from behind, probably a reaction to the squealing. ¡°Dammit! How long will they keep coming?¡± I mutter through my teeth. Mike flicks it over the snout so hard a small fissure forms and starts to leak blood. I wonder why he is not trying to stab it with the pointy end but rather torture the thing. Blood is pouring down the mouth of the nutria and all the way down over my stick. He continues to flick and smash it while I wiggle my stick. When the health bar is almost completely depleted, the beast finally faints. ¡°Go!¡± He orders me to take on the second nutria so I make some distance while backing away from it, calculating the perfect stab. I refuse to risk getting bitten again or locking my weapon in its mouth. "Three, two, one..." *Tschchk!* Wild screeching resonates as the heavy beast thrashes on the ground. I use all my body weight to lean on the stick, burying it even more inside its body. ¡°Aargh!¡± *Thud* The stick goes through the fat belly of the nutria and buries in the ground, pinning the beast. It probably got stuck in between the bones first, but I pushed as strongly as I could, the health bar is annihilated within seconds, and I hear a satisfying *Ding.* ¡°Now or never,¡± Mike says to the approaching Astrid. She hesitates, but he is persistent, handing her his stick. That''s the time I notice how her hands are small and brittle; she is struggling just to hold the thing steady. Pointing at the creature''s neck, she closes her eyes and stabs. *Tschchk* She drops the stick afterwards, looking away.
The wind starts to blow against us, and a lot of suspicious waves over the tall grass are incoming. Chapter 7 - The Real Threat ¡°Wait or progress?¡± Mike asks eagerly, facing towards the crossroads. Meanwhile, I grunt and struggle to pull out my stick from the carcass, bracing myself over it with my foot. ¡°Two, three, five¡­ six of them on the way,¡± Astrid mutters, counting and warning us with a worried tone. I pause for a moment and raise my sight as I hear her voice. ¡°Need a hand?¡± Mike turns his head towards me while I struggle to pull. *Squelch* My stick finally slips out with a blood spurt. The pointy end is covered in blood with tiny black lumps. ¡°Never mind,¡± Mike notes. Luckily for us, the new upcoming nutrias are distributed evenly. We can take them one by one. I hold my thick baton, look at Mike, and walk towards the closest hopping fat rat, inviting the tall boy with my sight. Astrid stays in the back, holding the fluffy cat. Cropfield Nutria, Level 2 "Level 2, eh?" No hesitation from my side. *Bonk* I smash it directly in the center of the crown of the head. The health depletes by about one-eighth. Mike pokes it right away with his stick, but it bends as it''s more flexible and thinner, so he switches to a slashing stance rather than poking or smashing. My right forearm hurts after absorbing the impact of a firm solid baton. *Bonk* I grunt and smash the top of the dome again. The nutria seems disoriented, missing its pitiful attack¡ªthose blows must have resonated through its skull, likely giving it at least a mild concussion. As Mike sees this, he decides to move on to another target, and he drags Astrid while giving her instructions. My already beaten-up nutria faints, and I repeat my stab. This time to the neck for easier penetration. *Tschk* *Ding* ¡°Ding after one, ding after two.¡± I believe three more for the third point. No time for fiddling inside menus, the next target is this one! I choose one approaching from the side. Checking on the couple, I see Astrid fighting with one using Mike''s weapon. He stands close, encourages, and covers her, little cat Pocco is furiously growling, readying for his scratch attack.
After beating up my third nutria without any damage, I take another peek at Mike and Astrid. She seems to have finished successfully, so Mike takes back his stick and relentlessly runs towards the other nutrias. He pokes them precisely with his sharpened end in their eyes, avoiding the thick fur so it don''t bend. They seem to get more aggressive and fast, but he is more furious and skilled at dodging. After a few dozen precise strikes, another two nutrias are done. ¡°Whoa.¡± At this pace, he will clear this area all alone. I brace up and choose another screeching approaching beast.
*Smash, slash, bang and stab* I stand there, sweat dripping from my forehead and my right arm pumped from the effort. It¡¯s done. My baton is soaked with blood, and Mike''s stick has lost almost half of its length. Sweaty foreheads and four more dead animals lay behind us. ¡°Ahh, let''s see. Now I know what I like¡ªfast, precise attacks and perfect dodges. I believe Agility it is. Maybe even forever,¡± he mutters under his nose, making hasty conclusions. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Holding a bloody broken stick in his left hand and fidgeting with his fingers in the air with his right hand, he finishes with his skills. His leg twitches again a bit. Astrid stays nearby, grooming the cat.
Michael Ambers foreigner level 4
Strength 4 no skill
Agility 6 no skill
Willpower 2 no skill
Endurance 4 no skill
Fast and agile is great, but my body is suggesting to be rather strong and steady. Even the thought of it makes me feel comfortable. Two clicks away, and I notice my veins on my forearms more visible for a moment, like a larger flow of blood went through them.
Markus Hale foreigner level 4
Strength 7 no skill
Agility 3 no skill
Willpower 4 no skill
Endurance 3 no skill
¡°Astrid, what about your point?¡± he asks her. ¡°I don¡¯t kno...¡± Before even finishing, Mike suggests she go for Agility and starts explaining why. I step into the conversation and, on the contrary, suggest her Strength, as I noticed she could barely hold the stick in her small hands. This was a fatal mistake as I noticed right away in Mike''s eyes that he clearly doesn''t like that I suggested anything to her. Maintaining my poker face, I back away and clean my weapon over the tall grass. Astrid fiddles around in the air with her fingers while he keeps talking, navigating, and explaining to her. ¡°Stop it!¡± She hushes him angrily, even the fluffy Pocco raises his head. ¡°I¡¯ll go with Willpower.¡± ¡°You don''t even know what that does...¡± He stops while she gives him a serious look. ¡°I have it the highest amongst the other attributes. This must mean something.¡±
Astrid Alm foreigner level 2
Strength 2 no skill
Agility 4 no skill
Willpower 7 no skill
Endurance 2 no skill
Mike nods to this, and the fluffy cat jumps right into Astrid''s open arms. We walk towards the crossroads.
After a few minutes of walking, we are almost near our goal. The sun is shining in our faces, and it¡¯s getting way too hot, so Mike proceeds to take off his thin black jacket and throws it over his shoulder. ¡°Hey, something twinkled in the distance!¡± says Astrid and points in the direction. I wipe the sweat off my forehead and hold my hand against the sun. It looks like a twinkling mirror in the distance. We stop and watch the location she pointed at.
After walking a short distance, an entity reveals itself in full majesty, glimmering in the light with each step¡ªA tall slim knight in full metal shiny plate armor emerges from the tall grass. The twinkling thing was his shiny helmet, covering his whole head and face. "Holy shit", this is unexpected, exciting yet extremely terrifying. I immediately crouch. Astrid follows, and so does Mike. ¡°Maybe he can give us a hint where we are and give directions?¡± whispers Mike. Astrid is quiet, so I nod to him. I get up and cautiously make a few steps to approach the knight slowly. My palms are getting sweaty, and I have to wipe them over my shirt. Mike follows me as we decide to walk casually after a bit of a sneaky walk. Step by step and we are standing almost next to him, yet he still does not see us. Is it the helmet? Weird. How hot is it in that armor anyway? ¡°Ahem. Hail, sir knight, can you tell us where we are?¡± says Mike boldly, before I even open my mouth. The knight slowly turns his head towards us, and immediately a red bar appears over his head with red letters. Lecherous Knight, Level 30 What the fuck!? Lecherous? Who the hell gives himself such a name? Or did just someone else name him? Now I have an even worse feeling about this. Not the knight himself, but his name makes me worried. The knight unsheathes his hilted sword in a blink of an eye and thrusts it towards Mike. He reacts quickly, and I believe he has all the luck in the world at that moment. He miraculously uses his jacket to slow the inertia of the attack, cutting off the left sleeve in the process and not his torso in half, or some limb. Astrid stands up to get a better look, but the knight immediately notices a third figure in the distance and looks directly at her. This moment buys time for me to quickly back away and avoid another attack that could follow. I focus my sight inside the thin visor in his helmet, and I can see wrinkled skin and light blue piercing eyes giving her a predator look, even from that distance. This moment buys me another time to arm myself this time. I¡¯m not running from this! While taking out my baton, my hands are trembling. *Swoosh and crack* His next sword attack lands on my only weapon, cutting it in half. Then the next distraction comes. Pocco flees from the arms of a defenseless girl and sprints towards the knight. The cat jumps, extends his paws, and tries to attack the knight. He reacts like a beast he is, tracking every single movement of the knight, constantly hissing and walking around him in circles. Many things flash through my mind. Is the cat that stupid? No! That look in his green eyes is almost human-like. Is he simply a brave pet, or is he more than an animal? Is he buying us time to escape? I wonder why a pet would do such a thing. Another weird and concerning thing is, why does a knight level 30 ignore the rest of us and is dealing with a petty animal? Mike, meanwhile, backs away to hold down Astrid, who screams for Pocco and approaches the knight without thinking twice. I finally make my distance too and observe the situation once more. Pocco is miraculously dodging the sword attacks and stomp attacks, jumping over the long claymore which often ends up buried inside the ground. But the last double-handed swing from overhead is followed by a quick surprise attack. Chapter 8 - Tragedy Unexpected kick from an old tall knight seems to be fatal. We are flabbergasted. That kick was powerful, and the pointy, heavy steel boot adds massive and possibly mortal damage to the fragile body. Pocco¡¯s lifeless body flies so far in the direction behind the knight that I cannot comprehend what just happened. My sight lands on the steel boot with a spike on top, now covered in blood. Astrid is immediately broken and slumps down; Mike has to drag her to the side as fast as possible. I scream and growl. Dual-wielding my two broken sticks, my sight keeps fogging. The feeling that I¡¯m just moments or gestures away from unimaginable pain or death pumps massive amounts of adrenaline into me. My eyes dance around the target, checking for any opening where I could bury one of my sharp broken sticks. There is none. The knight walks around in a circle, and we switch our positions. Mike drags Astrid through the tall grass away from the knight, toward the crossroads behind him. The knight manages to move towards me. I back away a few more steps as fast as possible. Surprised by his lack of speed, all my fear dissipates. He is too slow. Too slow to be a match for young people wearing clothes and sneakers. His armor must feel like a greenhouse. I turn around, grab the carcass of the cat with a blood-stained belly, and we run.
The knight stops following us after a few seconds of straightforward running. His name over his head disappears, and he returns to his position. Mike is comforting and dragging the mourning Astrid all the way. Meanwhile, I decide to bury the small brave warrior in the loose soil that I can easily dig with my bare hands. His small grave lies near the path that leads up to the small mountain pass in the distance.
The sunset is coming; our sneakers are muddy and dirty. My mouth feels like biting into a dry towel. The only liquid that touches my dry lips is my own salty sweat. Hungry and exhausted on every level, I can finally see something in the distance. It''s a shack with a wacky sign: ¡°Provisions.¡± I head to the location without thinking twice and open the creaking door. Mike and mourning Astrid follow me inside. It is a tiny store with food and basic medieval-like items on display. My stomach responds immediately after seeing the pastry. There is an old, skinny, scarred man with only one arm and no legs sitting on a wooden chair. He looks bored and completely uninterested in us. ¡°He... Hello...¡± I say with uncertainty, shocked by his appearance. ¡°Can you give us any directions? Where are we?¡± He looks me in the eye and responds calmly, as if this were standard procedure. "This information will cost you 10 gold." "Well, we don''t have any, old man. So?" Mike interjects, standing confidently with his shoulders squared. I look at him, confused. What the hell is this guy trying to achieve? Intimidate an old cripple after he was almost slashed in half by the knight? ¡°Any other way to pay or help?¡± I interfere. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. The merchant rolls his eyes and responds, ¡°Let me think.¡± He makes an intentional pause and then continues, ¡°No.¡± He measures us up and down afterward with his bulging eyes. ¡°Actually, maybe you can do something.¡± He points his only tendinous hand to the left and says, ¡°Up the hill is a small castle ruin, between the rocky formations, sealing the route further. Go through and open the blocked front gate. Then you can have whatever you want from the store. Do you accept it?¡± He almost lost all his breath telling us this. That''s it? Just open the jammed gate? I think quietly, salivating over the piece of bread. Is this the first quest? We look at each other, a little worried. Mike nods at me. ¡°Yes, we accept.¡± Rolling my eyes up and to the side, I await some notification, but nothing happens. Mike slides away through the half-closed creaky door with Astrid. I leave last, looking at the expression of the old man. He lets out a small grin as I leave the shop; small details like this leave me concerned. Astrid asks suspiciously, ¡°Are we really doing this?¡± "It''s getting really dark. I''m tired, hungry, and thirstier than ever," Mike says, counting off his needs on the fingers of his left hand. ¡°The least we can do is go to that ruin, maybe?¡± ¡°Where else can we spend the night? Returning past the knight is risky at dusk and in our state now,¡± I suggest.
We walk up the narrow rocky road, Mike using his smartphone to light the way. ¡°Raise the light; I see some structure,¡± I ask him. The narrow opening between two steep rocky hills is sealed with one square tower without a roof. It looks highly damaged. A small yet scenic entrance with one room is connected to that tower. The stone staircase leads inside; we step carefully and vigilantly inside. Completely empty and dimly lit, I look up and am startled. Patterned carpet, wooden chairs, cabinets, dining table with all the cutlery, candlesticks, food, and bottles are upside down on the ceiling. The wax from burning candles drips down. Even the flame burns opposite. ¡°Is this the magic in this world?¡± says Astrid while Mike stares up with a slightly opened mouth. I can¡¯t take my eyes off those circular bread buns. ¡°Maybe we can throw something up and test if it will...¡± Before even finishing my sentence, I see Mike''s stick swinging up in the middle of the table. All the things knocked down by the stick fall down. One bottle of some kind of liquid breaks and spills, while others remain intact. Astrid touches it with her fingers and gives it a sniff. ¡°It''s like beer, maybe weathered a little.¡± Even the thought of old beer makes my stomach growl. I start throwing my broken half sticks up in the air, mindlessly trying to hit something else. The bread, plates, candlesticks, and cutlery¡ªeverything falls until the table is completely clear. One chair falls down too after I accidentally hit it with my stick. It breaks to pieces. Other heavy furniture does not move even a little if we hit it, so we leave it. ¡°Let''s feast,¡± says Mike, holding the bread and one bottle victoriously. ¡°Ugh, that pastry is really hard, almost impossible to eat, but still better than nothing,¡± he notes while crunching loudly. I eat half of the dry bread, moistening it with bubbly ale. I¡¯m either desperately hungry, or this combination is delicious. While almost losing all my teeth nibbling the bread stick, I save all the extra in my inventory. Counting up the stuff on the ground, we decide to evenly distribute food and beverage between us. I end up with one extra loaf of bread and one full bottle. Astrid, meanwhile, picks up a small sack of coins that fell from the table and counts them. There are 36 coins inside. She splits them evenly and throws 12 coins with a satchel at me. The rest she divides with Mike. ¡°It¡¯s okay; they store together as a small pile in one slot.¡± She gestures at me not to return the empty satchel. Decorated edges with uneven dents. A dragon head on heads and dragon body with a large spiky tail on tails. ¡°This is literally perfect for a coin toss.¡± ¡°Ugh, isn''t it always the ruler on the coins?¡± I ask. ¡°I guess, but if dragons exist, we are done,¡± says Mike. ¡°Don''t guess; now we can buy the knowledge about this world from the merchant,¡± notes Astrid. I ask in a tired voice, ¡°Are we doing the gate thing or sleeping here and waiting through the night?¡± ¡°Opening the gate is not a big deal. Let''s do it first and then come back here,¡± Mike is adamant. Astrid stays quiet, and I consider this as her agreement. The only way to continue from this room is through an opening like a small tunnel in the stone wall in front of us. It is lined with wooden beams, and an old dirty cloth covers it like a curtain. I decide to crawl through first; Astrid follows, and Mike backs her up. Chapter 9 - Nightmare
The dirty cloth covering the tunnel, as wide as the thick castle wall, smells musty as I take a whiff while squeezing through. Inside the castle ruin is a square courtyard surrounded by tall, partially crumbled walls made of large stones. We are in. I am standing on a wooden bridge that lines up with the walls at about half their height. It''s almost pitch dark, and I can feel the cold night breeze and see the stars above, faintly illuminating the area. After a long gaze, my eyes adjust to the darkness, and I recognize the place. There is a huge statue of a sitting entity in the middle of the courtyard. It has very strong chiseled features, covered in moss and weeds. The courtyard beneath its feet is filled with rubble and trash, almost covering the statue''s bare feet. I look at Mike and Astrid; they seem unsure, but the quietness of the night makes me comfortable, so I whisper, ¡°Let''s go, it looks safe.¡± We are facing the statue from the left side, looking at its profile. After a few steps to the left over the bridge, I notice a wooden gate. ¡°It''s our gate!¡± whispers Mike. Mike''s sudden, confident walk over the creaky wooden beams catalyzes a strong red light in the area. The source of the red light is a massive floating panel above the head of the statue. The Old Traveler - Level 80 ¡°Motherf¡­¡± I¡¯m speechless. Mike is freaked out, and Astrid lets out a slight scream. Extremely frightened yet stunned at how such a humongous thing could even be alive. I crouch immediately and halt my movement as the statue does not move. The health bar is very different from the others we saw before; it is much longer and thicker, even compared to the size of the enemy. A stream of lava-like fluid is very slowly and steadily moving from left to right in it. This feels like regeneration or some sort of charging. A quick thought flashes. ¡°What do we do?¡± I whisper. ¡°Turn back or try to sneak to the gate? There is no other way around, I think.¡± Astrid notes that it''s strange we can''t hear the giant breathing; maybe it''s in some vegetative state or it just turned to stone. Mike nods at her idea, and we decide to continue. Slow and steady, we sneak across the bridge along the stone walls. No sound, no wind. The area is lit in dark red. Still, it feels quite safe. Before long, we are standing in front of the gate. It is secured by a medieval gate lock: a big wooden bar. We know that removing the beam is the first step. Mike approaches under the beam quietly and braces his right arm underneath. He tries to push it up with one hand, but unfortunately, the beam does not move even slightly. ¡°It''s heavier than it looks, help,¡± he whispers. Astrid looks around uncomfortably. I push with all my strength, using both arms. It moves up a bit, but not enough to lift it over the metal brackets holding the beam. Astrid joins to help, and all three of us try to push it up. A musty cold breeze blows from behind us, followed by a strong, weathered groan. Letting the beam fall, we turn around to the statue. The statue is crackling, and its skin is crumbling as it slowly stands up, making more rumbling noises. The area darkens as its health bar moves up, above the castle ruin walls. A shiny warm golden light emerges from underneath its feet. The stiff clothing reveals a shimmering solid gold but rather small chest beneath. Now it is clear what that thing is doing there. I take a glance at its legs; they are very thick, stump-like, and seem impenetrable to any projectile or weapon. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. The golden chest illuminates the bottom of the courtyard. Bones. Piles of broken bones and gear are everywhere. A huge gray hand emerges quickly from underneath its cloak and grabs one of us. It is me. It happens so fast. I can barely react. Astrid starts to scream, and Mike desperately tries to push the beam once again. The hand is surprisingly warm and soft. Dozens of possible thoughts flash through my mind. My feet are hanging beneath the fist. I cannot move a muscle. The squeeze is tight. Am I going to be eaten alive? Crushed? Thrown against the wall? What about them? ¡°Run!¡± I barely manage to scream at them, whistling from my lungs. That last word escapes me, squeezing the last bit of air I had in me. The hand is slowly closing. I can feel my kneecaps first as they are pushing together. Looking at Mike, I see he grabs Astrid, and they start to run back to the hole. Swoosh. BANG! My head spins, and the dizziness is followed by tremendous pain. I start to scream internally as it¡¯s impossible any other way. The statue smashes the wooden bridge with its fist while I¡¯m inside, breaking the thick wooden planks and completely squashing my feet to jam. I¡¯ve never felt more pain in my life. What seems to be the worst is followed by even more. The hand of the statue is slowly tightening its grip, and another tremendous pain starts to emerge from the bottom of my pelvis. I was never so hopeless. I can''t release any sound from me. I don''t scream; tears are flowing from my eyes. Agonizing pain builds up, and I cannot understand why I¡¯m not fainting yet. All I wish for now is a painless death more than I ever wished for. Ribcage and pelvis break It is a loud crack, and that is the last thing I can hear, along with the frightening screams and cries of Mike and Astrid. My ears are ringing, and I feel my throat filling with blood and the flesh of my intestines. Why am I not dying? I can''t bear it anymore! *Soft Ding* *Poof* A white feline figure appears from a dust cloud in front of Mike and Astrid. It scurries in the air in one or two circles, extending its paws afterward and touching both of them simultaneously. It is done. The last hallucination, I don''t feel any pain anymore. All three of them disappear in a white dust cloud.
My mind is focused only on the present. Quite a pleasant feeling of warm sand brushing over my back, flowing in the wind from behind me. The air is fresh, and I feel cozy. Was this all just a dream? Or am I dead? I refuse to open my eyes and simply sit there for a good amount of time, enjoying the breeze and soft massage. It¡¯s more calming than it was around the floating fire back there. I¡¯ve never felt so safe and sound. *Blink* The ochre-colored particles dance in front of me. An endless open space stretches out in a constant windstorm, with sand and dust flying in all directions but miraculously avoiding my eyes and nostrils. I look down at myself, sitting in a lotus position, naked yet feeling more alive, rejuvenated, and cozy than ever. All my injuries are completely healed. I look at my knee, where a scar from my childhood had always been, now vanished. Fulfilled with energy, I want to stand up, but I can''t. My bottom parts are holding on the ground. Some force is holding me in place, like a magnet. I raise my hands and look at my left one. While I focus on one of my fingers, it disappears. This gives me a wild, unexpected shock. The moment I look away, my finger appears back on. Focusing on different ones follows the same pattern. When I look at it directly, it disappears. It is a strange sight to look around my hands and feet while the parts vanish and reappear, solely by my focus. I let the thumb on my right hand disappear and analyze the wound it leaves. It is almost nonexistent, looking like I was born without the thumb. Strange indeed. What does this all mean? To get out of this, do I need to sacrifice one finger? Is this the penalty for dying? No need for counting; I have 20 lives left. What happens when I¡¯m fingerless? Completely useless, or will I have to sacrifice more than fingers? The thought of that amputee merchant we met earlier¡ªI can¡¯t get it out of my head now. Is he a veteran who died too many times until he decided to stop going further? Or am I overthinking this too soon? Could he be a foreigner too? Every second here brings more unanswered questions. Wait. Fuck. That means I died. The flow of questions is followed by recent memories. My teeth clench, and tears cover my eyes in an instant. My brain, which almost completely wiped what just happened a while ago, did a great job protecting my sanity, but not for long. The PTSD kicks in, and I start to shiver and shake all around. Suddenly, the place feels not so welcoming, and I want to know the answers as soon as possible. Without any idea of how this even works, I look at my pinky toe on my left foot and say out loud, ¡°Confirm.¡± It feels like pulling out the outlet plug on a TV. Sudden darkness and oblivion. Chapter 10 - Solo Leveling Awakening from both the nightmare and the dreamlike, dusty, sun-filled room, I gasp for breath, patting all over my chest furiously. ¡°What is going on?! Guys?! Mike?¡± I sigh, realizing I¡¯m all alone. Alone in the forest next to the flame where we slept. It''s almost morning, and the sun''s rays are beginning to rise. The piles of leaves we stacked for sleeping are mostly intact, maybe a bit scattered. The leftovers from cleaning and carving my stick are still there, strewn on the ground. The bowl of eternal flame remains unchanged, burning as strong as ever. "Did I die or not? Was this all a dream?" I ask myself. There''s only one way to find out. Quickly pulling off my dirty sneaker and sock, I see a perfectly healed wound where my pinky toe should be. ¡°Oh god.¡± I sigh. ¡°It really happened after all¡­ It wasn¡¯t an NDE.¡± I lean back and stare up at the trees as I did yesterday morning. My fast-beating heart begins to calm. ¡°This is the new reality. I must accept it.¡± I breathe in deeply while lying there, staring at the canopies gently swaying in the wind. Feeling more alive than ever, I''m acutely aware of every cell in my body. When was the last time I caught myself enjoying breathing? Strange. To feel truly alive, I had to die first. ¡°What now?¡± I lie there, trying to comprehend my thoughts. Apparently, I can¡¯t die for good. No one else has ever had such a chance. I must embrace it. Setting clear goals will get me back on track. First things first, I need to find Mike and Astrid... And that cat, was it a hallucination or not? No, it must¡¯ve been real. They would have appeared here too if they had died. Or am I the only one capable of this? I need to find out. Motivated by the need for answers, I start to walk confidently towards the grassy meadow where we fought the nutrias.
¡°Hush!¡± I quickly slap my cheeks. ¡°Stop it, damn it!¡± My mood swings like crazy. The horrifying moments of my death flash before my eyes, and I can feel some phantom pain. Terror and motivation swap places rapidly. I have an idea. ¡°Items¡± Pastry, 2 pcs / Tiny satchel of coins (12) / Beverage, 2 pcs / Carved halves of wooden stick / Tiny folding knife / Discharged smartphone / A bunch of keys with a weathered keychain ¡°I didn''t lose anything?¡± I ask myself in surprise, closing the window and balancing a pastry and a beverage bottle in one hand. I temporarily bite into the hardened whole-grain bread and use both hands to pull out the cork from the bottle. It''s pretty hard to do carefully, to avoid breaking it. The cork makes a satisfying pop, and the smell of alcohol hits my nose. This one is definitely stronger than the other bottle. Welp. No one can stop me now. I chug almost half of the rich beverage while softening the bread in my mouth. This small, present moment is very enjoyable. ¡°Skills¡± The window appears in the blink of an eye.
Markus Hale foreigner level 4
Strength 7 no skill
Agility 3 no skill
Willpower 4 no skill
Endurance 3 no skill
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°Nothing changed here, no other penalty except the part of my body...¡± I must be super cautious from now on. ¡°So, the meadow, possible nutrias again?¡± ¡°Then the asshole knight, creaky shack, and finally the ruin.¡± I sigh. The thought of revisiting my deathbed in the upcoming hour sends shivers down my spine. I jog through the forest carefully, taking huge comical steps to keep my sneakers as dry as possible. The morning dew has already fallen, and every single blade of grass is covered in water droplets. I hate my choice of wearing breathable running shoes. Not only are they super slippery, but they also soak up every bit of moisture. As the sun illuminates the grassy meadow, I consider all the possibilities that could await me. First, I need to ensure I haven''t traveled back in time. I''m not sure where the nutria bodies were, but I''ll know when I see them. Could they have resurrected or turned into more powerful versions? I think of a different approach; since my baton was cut in half, I can dual wield it. The knight''s claymore made a perfect cut, leaving me with two even sharper spikes than I had carved.
There it is. I stop for a moment and shield my eyes from the strong rising sun with my hand. ¡°There.¡± Definitely, one should be there. The grass we trampled is almost fully upright, but the traces are still visible. I hop over the grass to avoid getting wet, but it''s not very effective. My toes already feel the cold water. ¡°Great!¡± The fat, furry rat lies lifeless on the ground with a dried blood spot on its side. ¡°I wonder if we ever end up dissecting these and collecting meat.¡± Even the thought of cutting open the furry beast makes me uncomfortable. But on the other hand, that dry bread would go well with a slice of steak. I look over the carcass, noticing its muscular back legs. ¡°So, time travel is ruled out.¡± I check an imaginary to-do list in my head. One more spot to check to be a hundred percent sure, and I can head back to the path between the fields. A much worse threat awaits me there to avoid. I hop over the tall grass while looking for the next spot where the grass was trampled. ¡°Fuck!¡± I mutter, quickly lowering my voice. Stopping immediately and freezing, I gaze at the nutria. This one definitely wasn''t there before. Its paws are curled underneath, and I lean forward slightly, noticing it''s breathing. ¡°Whoa.¡± I whisper, feeling regret over what I''m about to do. What should I do? Ambushing a sleeping beast feels cowardly. But logic tells me to avoid conflict and potential harm. Now or never! I raise my two broken sticks to eye level and decide which is the sharpest for the first and hopefully last strike. ¡°Yep. The one on my right.¡± Now, where to strike? The eye could be tricky as it might slip or shift. The ear seems to be the most viable option. Imagining the beast''s internal structure, I aim for the ear canal, hoping to reach the brain. *Guilty inhale* *Tschchk* *Wild screeching* The beast wakes fully, screeching in agony and confusion. A steadily depleting health bar appears over its head. ¡°Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! This is too noisy. It could attract a whole army of them or worse.¡± I quickly swap hands and pin the beast in the ear with my left stick, using my dominant hand to stab it over the fat body. It continues to screech wildly. ¡°Fucking hell! Just shut up!¡± *Smack* *Squelch* ¡°Damn it!¡± With my last blow, I''m crouching, holding both of my sticks buried in the beast, watching the health bar deplete. Once it hits zero, it disappears. ¡°Phew.¡± I could swear these stabs were easier to perform than before. Maybe because the beast''s muscles were relaxed in sleep or because my strength increased? I argue with myself. ¡°Stats.¡± Checking my stats, I do a brief calculation. I should gain another level after two more kills of these. But I¡¯m unsure if this still works when doing it the cowardly way. Continue forward towards my goal or do a little side hustle? My gut tells me to take advantage of these sleeping rats. If I don¡¯t gain a level, my reward will be knowledge. Not knowing how to spot more of them, I repeat the same pattern. Now, ignoring my soaked sneakers, I slowly lurk through the grass towards the next known dead nutria. Bingo! I whisper. *Stab.* This time, I don¡¯t hesitate and stab both sticks deeply into the ear canal and behind the neck. The beast stays quiet, and I watch the health bar drain to zero in mere seconds. I exhale deeply, a relieved smile appearing on my face for the first time in a long time. ¡°Third time''s the charm.¡± *Twinkling in the distance catches my eye.* ¡°Ah shit!¡± Chapter 11 - Backtracking ¡°Damnit!¡± Is he getting closer, or is he just patrolling? I quickly crouch in the tall grass, trying to catch my breath while keeping an eye on him. His shiny helmet reflects the rising sun. If I were just one nutria away, I could''ve pushed myself harder. Now what? Moving across the field feels too risky. If I end up fighting one or more nutrias, that knight will tear me apart. Stealth, maybe? I could try to blend in along the route. I start tearing long stems of grass, stuffing them into my pockets, collar, sleeves¡ªanywhere I can. Halfway through, I realize this will be a flop. It''s already restricting my movement, and I''m not even moving yet. If he catches me sneaking, I won''t be able to run. He wasn''t great at spotting us before, though the strong wind masked our steps. Maybe I can move cautiously now. Sneakers aren''t called sneakers for nothing, right? I quickly stow my two bloody sticks in my inventory to avoid slowing down and step out of the grass, staring directly at the crossroads and the shiny armor. The gravelly dry roads won''t suppress my steps, but I''ll try my best. I was never good at sports, and to be honest, even a short run would drain my stamina pretty fast. Not far from my starting point, and I''m already sweating and breathing heavily while crouching and sneaking. Sunshine and that armor¡ªhe must be pretty uncomfortable. I wonder where he sleeps or resides. A few dozen steps closer, and I stop to tighten my shoelaces before the run. Approaching him silently, I stare above his head until I see his health bar. 31?! It was 30 yesterday! Are my eyes playing tricks on me? I definitely remember that zero. Did he level up on his own? When? By killing Pocco or some of the nutrias? I¡¯m confused and frightened. How many days until he evolves and can sniff us out from miles away? I suddenly feel even less freedom and more pressure to improve myself. He starts to look around as if he''s sniffing something. His right hand reaches behind his head and rests on the hilt of his claymore, stored on his back on a double hook. "It''s my time! Now or never!" I get up quickly and start running as fast as I can, not even looking back. Not knowing what to expect, I brace for a sudden blow from behind at any moment. Breathing heavily after a short run, I suddenly hear laughter. It sounds metallic, like it''s coming from inside a can. Stopping for a brief moment, I turn around. He stands there in a relaxed position, laughing from his helmet. "Is the bastard laughing at me?!" I feel a mix of relief and pettiness.
Arriving at the shack, I decide to be more than rude. The bastard sent us to inevitable death with his fake quest. Bursting through the door, I start yelling at him. "We failed your stupid little favor, and I died a horrendous death! You knew this all along!" He stares at his desk quietly, with a disappointed and guilty expression. I stop yelling, tilting my head as I analyze his behavior. "You knew about it, or not? Where are we even? What is this place?" He remains silent. "Talk! You owe me at least that!" He stays silent. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Suddenly, I remember the coin satchel with twelve coins. As I think of my inventory, the window opens automatically before my eyes. "Oh." The surprise escapes me. The merchant finally raises his gaze. I completely ignore him, baffled that it works without speaking out loud. Staring at the counter, I¡¯m terrified. Does this mean the system reads my thoughts? How much does it know about me? The one place I thought I was safe¡ªin my own head¡ªmight not be. "Did you lose your words?" His old, creaky voice echoes in the small cabin. As I consider restricting my thinking to avoid mind reading, I realize that if my mind is being read, I just revealed my plan. The anger builds up; I want to punch the old bastard in the face so badly, despite his condition. "I don¡¯t know who first lost their words!" I bark at him, avoiding direct eye contact. Forget the satchel; he''ll never see it. I turn around and storm out, slamming the old door behind me.
Sprinting up the rocky road for a few minutes, I finally reach the small castle ruin. The pathway feels safe, surrounded by dense, inaccessible bushes. There¡¯s no sense of threat, and the path is straightforward, with no chance of getting lost. I quickly run up the stairs, skipping steps with large strides. "Miiike, Astrid!" I call for them. But no one answers. I sigh. After some deliberation, I decide to crawl through the stone wall again. "Well, here we go." The anxiety strikes back. I can already smell death while crawling through the opening. In the bright sunlight, I can finally see my nemesis: the mossy statue, which is apparently not a statue but some kind of giant, indestructible, hostile being with tremendous strength. It seems to serve one purpose: protect the chest underneath it. No matter how much I regret my actions, I declare that whatever my purpose in life is now, I will one day destroy this thing and loot that chest!
It sits there quietly in its pile of bones, hands resting on its knees. No one could distinguish it from a statue, carved from gray stone, but I know what''s going on. No breathing, no movement. I study its face from the side, taking in the surroundings in the bright light, starting from the top and slowly looking around to memorize the details. The gate is untouched; they never made it through the normal way. Nothing special about the ruin walls either. The whole place seems more cramped than it felt at night. All the magic of the place is gone, as no stars are shining upon it. It seems like an ordinary abandoned ruin, or more likely a cemetery. Even the statue itself oddly fits in the courtyard, despite being too big for it. I¡¯m afraid to look underneath the bridge, to find the corpses of Mike and Astrid. Do I want to see the dead bodies of people I spent the last hours with? I briefly check the wooden bridge and the walls surrounding it. Not a single trace of them. Looking down at the pile of bones and rusty equipment, I¡¯m relieved there are no corpses. Continuing my sneaky walk to approach the statue more from the front, my sight lands on the statue itself and its hand that crushed me. "Wha... what is this?" I freeze for a moment. Looking at the giant''s resting hand, I notice a bloody turquoise piece of cloth hanging between its fingers. "What the..." "Ah, fuck!" I frown, petrified. There lies my mutilated corpse, limbs twisted in unnatural ways. Head slightly decapitated and stomach wide open with intestines hanging out. I instantly feel nauseous and almost faint.
Wriggling back through the opening, I exit the castle hall and sit on the stairs. Staring into the abyss, I relive my moment of death. I can''t fight my brain; the flood of images and torturous thoughts overwhelms me, and I have no power over it.
I don''t know how long I stared¡ªmaybe hours, maybe minutes. But afterward, I feel numb. The ambivalent feelings no longer overwhelm me. Taking a deep breath, I feel like I just woke up from a long night''s sleep. Looking around, I have a feeling that a lot of time has passed. It¡¯s way past noon. I get up, feeling heavy as if I haven''t moved for hours. Strangely, I feel rejuvenated, stronger, and more determined. "Why do I even feel this way? Am I a completely different person? Is this the brain''s defense mechanism creating a different personality?" Wondering and analyzing, I notice that the abyss I was staring at the whole time is indeed not a shadow over the rocky wall but a large crack in it. Large enough for me to fit through. "Items," I say out loud and take out my broken batons. Looking at them, worried, I remember a finer piece of weaponry that awaits me a few steps away. I quickly enter the upside-down hall. Chapter 12 - Uneasy Dungeon The broken chair! I didn¡¯t realize how deadly a broken iron-bound chair leg could be. Rushing inside the hall, I grab the longest broken leg of the tall medieval chair. Tightly holding the thinner bottom end, I raise it up and study it in all its beauty. The chair leg has a slight curvature in the middle, thickening towards the top, which is covered in iron brackets that helped strengthen the overall structure. The top half of the leg is square, decorated with iron rivets, some of which are partially rusty. The wood is dark brown with a hint of dark red. It is quite heavy to lift but surprisingly easy to swing. ¡°Yeah, this will do!¡± I look up at the tall ceiling and check on the other chair still hanging there. ¡°Damnit, how could it be so intriguing?¡± I want that chair to stash in my inventory, ready for whenever I need it, but it''s too high and would probably break like the one before. Despite its strong, heavy, iron-bound wood, it landed unluckily. I''ll leave it for now. Exiting the ruined castle, I close the heavy door behind me. Somehow, I feel that the belongings inside are mine, and I¡¯ll return here eventually. Taking a deep breath before entering the mysterious crack in the rocky wall, I toy with the idea of making a torch. But that would cost me more of my precious time, already wasted sitting on the stairs, zoned out. Finding out what happened to Astrid and Mike before dusk should be my top priority now. I rush near the crack, touching the outer stone walls covered partially in moss and weeds. Using my newfound weapon I clear the dense spiderwebs on the entrance thoroughly by spinning it. Taking a peek inside, I find a linear tunnel with a light at the end. ¡°Hmm.¡± I reevaluate entering it. Judging by the size of the light, the tunnel seems quite long, if the dot is indeed the exit. I back away a bit and look up over the tunnel, hesitating whether to go through. The path through the rocky formation seems straightforward, and it appears to be the only way around the castle. I sigh and take a deep breath. ¡°What the hell are you doing, Mark? This isn¡¯t like you. No light in a dark area, no detailed and calculated plan.¡± While questioning my actions, I blatantly squeeze through the narrow crack in the wall. Inside, I lean on the chair leg and gaze at the far end of the tunnel cave. The bright sun outside had made my eyes burn, and now, adjusting to the dark, I see weird colors flashing and pulsating. I wait a bit to adjust.
As the cavern becomes clearer, I see dark gray walls covered with spider webs, vines, and moss. There are many small craters all around the ceiling and sides, while large round stones like bumps randomly jut out from the walls and ground. The air feels damp. ¡°Wait! My phone!¡± This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. I quickly open my inventory and notice another phenomenon. The bronze plate shines brightly, making it impossible not to read any text, yet it somehow provides zero illumination to the surroundings. ¡°Damn. Sorry, little buddy. This will be your last day with me.¡± I unlock my screen with a simple left-to-right pattern by flicking my right thumb. The laziest pattern you can set up. "Ooof." My battery is at 2%. I decide to use only the display to illuminate the path. There¡¯s nothing special on the ground, just a bit of water with floating moss. I¡¯d be lying if I said I¡¯m completely okay. A bit frightened by this cramped, dark place, I walk slowly, using my phone screen to light up the bottom of the cave, avoiding stepping into the ponds of water. About a dozen steps in, I know I¡¯m too far to turn back. At a safer spot, I use my phone to illuminate one of the craters. It looks like some sort of projectile made these, but none are present in the center of the holes. That explains the rubble under the walls. Strangely, the impact holes aren¡¯t covered in moss or weathered like the rest of the cave walls. They haven¡¯t been here long. *Doo, doo, doo, doo* ¡°No! No! No! Fuck! No!¡± My phone makes its last sounds before turning off. My only light source is gone. Now, the only thing I can focus on is the growing light at the tunnel''s end. I whistle and start to swing and pound the chair leg in front of me and on the ground. It splashes a bit of water, reassuring me there¡¯s no deep hole ahead. Walking extremely carefully and slowly toward the light, I continue swinging my weapon. *Hollow Bonk* I freak out and take a huge step backward as two red dots appear on the ground in front of me. ¡°What is this?¡± Those red shining spots¡ªare they eyes? Startled and panicked, I wonder what to do. Biting my lip in worry, I gently pat the thing from the sides with the chair leg, trying to gauge its size. It¡¯s not large, about the size of one of the rocks scattered around the cave. Spider Turtle, level 3 A white sign appears floating in the air. ¡°Fuck! I¡¯m sorry! I''m sorry! Don¡¯t kill me!¡± I back away, trembling. ¡°Wait! A turtle? In a fucking cave?¡± I read it again to be sure. ¡°A fucking spider turtle? What the hell is even that?¡± Rollercoaster of wild images flashes before my eyes, while I comprehend the creature''s name. The red health bar appears above its head afterwards, and seeing the word "spider" again makes me freak out even more. My brain somehow ignored the fact that I¡¯m terrified of spiders. Instinctively, I smash it. The chair leg hits the turtle¡¯s hard shell and bounces back. Suddenly, a set of six red eyes opens on its shell in two rows, providing a bit of illumination. ¡°Ho-lee shit.¡± *Bang!* I hit the red spot! It disappears upon impact. The health bar shrinks, and the creature produces a sizzling noise. *Bang!* Another hit over the eye, and the pattern repeats. *Blip. Blip.* The two eyes I hit reopen and shine red. I back away, ignoring the fear of a possible deep murky water holes, as the turtle moves toward me. It¡¯s slow, like a turtle, not fast like a spider. If it were quick, I¡¯d be dead by now. Now I aim more precisely with the pointy top of the chair leg, trying to puncture an eye. There¡¯s resistance, but I can do it. Not in one hit, but with more precise strikes! *Pop* Finally, the blob pops, and a bright orange jelly starts flowing out. ¡°Yuck. Jesus! That is. Gross!¡± The creature screeches and tries to get closer, but it can''t outpace me. I find a pattern of slowly backing away while hitting its eyes and extended head. I maintain my distance, repulsed by the thought of touching it with my bare hands. Occasionally, I turn to check my surroundings for more creatures. Despite its super creepy and disgusting nature, I can imagine taking on many of these alone if they come one by one.
The neck extends after every few steps and hits, and I try to bash it, but it retracts quickly, dodging my strikes. Those four clumsy turtle legs aren¡¯t even remotely scary¡ªonly the set of eyes on top of the shell are. ¡°Hah. This isn¡¯t so bad.¡± I feel above the situation. I bash the eyes and pop another three successfully. But as I deplete half of the health bar, everything changes. Chapter 13 - Smelly Surprise
¡°What is this?¡± *Slimy sound of something sticking out of the hole.* ¡°No! No! This was supposed to be an easy kill!¡± I clench my teeth. Another set of four legs sticks out of the shell in sync. Horrendous. I gaze upon the abomination and start to feel a weird tingling and shivering all around my body. The uneasiness and discomfort are triggered by looking at eight thick turtle legs, each with a pointy claw on the bottom. What should I expect from this? To run twice as fast? I back away even more. *Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh.* My eyes adjust while tracing the red light moving around me, fast in circles. ¡°Aaaaargh!¡± Desperately screaming, I wave my chair leg in all directions, trying to hit whatever I can, except the cave, of course. ¡°This is not twice the speed! Aaaaaargh!¡± *Swoosh* *Swoosh* The chair leg whistles in the air as I wave it around, screaming and turning on the spot. *Bang followed by insect-like wheezing and screeching.* The armored spider-turtle hybrid drops to the ground as I probably hit its extended head. ¡°Phew.¡± I turn around quickly and check for any more of these creatures. The only light in the cave is the six red dots on the top of the shell and the warm yellow light in the distance. I notice that the light is flickering. ¡°That is not an exit! Gosh!¡± ¡°Please be at least something good.¡± The health bar over the eight-legged hybrid beast has about one fifth of its original length. The dark green wet thing lies on the ground on its side with all the legs facing forward. As I see them all together in one braid, I feel even more uncomfortable. ¡°If I ever touch this with my bare hands, I''m gonna kill myself.¡± Approaching it carefully for any potential ambush, once comfortable, I swing my weapon over my head and smash the remains with all the power in my right arm and shoulder. The pointy iron-bound chair leg destroys the fleshy head with one blow. *Ding* I leveled up, as expected from a level 3 beast. Still freaked out by the darkness and the possibility of more of these in the cave, my brain stops listening to me. My body starts to run like a madman towards the light, ignoring the level-up point, solely to escape the uneasiness as soon as possible. *Thud* My wet, slippery sneaker, made mostly for casual jogging, gets caught on one of the rocks sticking from the ground. I trip in the darkness and fall with my face on some sort of rock. ¡°Ouch!¡± escapes my mouth as my cheek lands on the bump, and my toe starts to hurt too. Recovering from the situation, I feel the leather-like squishy thing rolling under the left side of my face. The red wet blob reveals itself, touching my left cheek. The goosebumps are rising. Are these eyelids? I scream internally and roll away fast, completely soaking in the mossy murky water. While I get up fast, shaking out of disgust and horror, five more eyes pop open. Forcefully closing my hand around the chair leg, I repeat the last scenario. But now, anger replaces fear and disgust. I scream, smash, and bang the thing, ignoring the health bar and all the surroundings until my chair leg is destroyed to pieces. All the eyes popped in the process, and I successfully killed the creature. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. *A satisfying ding brightens my mood.*
Now I can see the light in the distance more clearly. It''s not that far away from me and looks like another bronze bowl, the same as we found in the forest. I wonder if it would radiate the same heat and if I would suddenly feel cozy around it. Now I walk with caution and certainty, without any weapon. Immediately stepping into the radius of the flame light, I feel sleepy, cozy, and safe, almost invisible. It feels like it has some sort of protective barrier. Leaning over the bowl with my back, I enjoy the warm flames touching and tickling me. While trying to stick my bare hand out of the barrier, I can immediately tell the difference; I feel the cold, moist cave. Quickly, I pull my hand back and decide to sit there for a while. I recover from the situation and look around. Now I definitely have to treat myself with the numbers. Sitting on the bowl like it was a toilet, the flames burn all around me. Both surreal and quite funny. My finger goes automatically for the strength, and I assign two points to it. An almost unrecognizable paralyzing wave of energy flashes through my body, and my right arm feels a bit stiff for a second or two, almost like a bee stung me in it. Shaking off the feeling, I continue asking myself, "How do I measure if anything significant changed regarding my strength?"
Markus Hale foreigner level 6
Strength 9 no skill
Agility 3 no skill
Willpower 4 no skill
Endurance 3 no skill
I pull up my shirt and check my fat belly. Nothing changed, of course. Pulling up my right sleeve, I flex my bicep. ''Is it, or is it not?'' I wonder. While examining my veins, I conclude that I used my right arm a lot today, swinging that heavy chair leg.
Peeking out of the ¡°safe zone,¡± I take a whiff of moist heavy air and examine my surroundings. Looking away from the fire, my eyes adjust to the darkness once again. There are two inconspicuous doors. One trapdoor on the ceiling and the other a few dozen steps from the fire. Both of them perfectly blend with the environment, covered in moss and heavily weathered. Looks like this is the end of a cave corridor. I feel relieved. Looking at the trapdoor up there, I quickly doubt the possibility of pulling myself up. Despite investing two points into strength, I know I will physically not be able to do even one single pull-up. I never did that successfully in my life. Bullied by my performance in PE on a daily basis. I stand up and walk carefully towards the other door. I take out one half of my broken walking stick and poke the door with it. It has a rough texture and is probably made of stone. Carvings are all over it, but I don¡¯t pay much attention to it as it is still very dim inside. The door is very tall and sturdy without any knob or lever. Guess this is the opportunity to test my strength. I brace my whole body against the door and first try to push it outwards. *Crackling followed by dust falling* ¡°Pffff. Pfffffff.¡± I spit all over the place as a large amount of fine gravel dust falls from the top of the door onto my head. ¡°God damnit!¡± My about four-inch-long hair is now full of ancient dirt, and my sweaty forehead is a great sticker for it as well. I push again, and the door finally moves. A slight slit lets a strip of bright light from the outside enter the cave. *Something cracks at the back of the cave* ¡°Ooo.. oh!¡± Quickly turning on the spot, I hop back near the fire. Sitting on top of the flaming bowl like it was a toilet once again, I watch the movement. A blurry red light moves around in quick dashes around the fire. It never steps inside the imaginary bubble; its health bar or name doesn''t appear. I watch as it scouts the area and disappears in the distance. ¡°One, two, three!¡± *Swoosh* I run mindlessly towards the slightly opened door and slam it fully with my body, opening it wide enough to slip out whole.
Bright light blinds me in an instant, followed by fresh air. Stepping out of the dark murky cave, the first thing that catches my sight is a dense bamboo forest right in front of the rocky wall. Some of the bamboo is broken and bent. ¡°Bamboo? Here? How, why?¡± I look around, confused. On my right is the infamous castle gate that we were supposed to open. Behind me is the rock wall with a fissure I just came out of, and on my left is a muddy path. I don¡¯t dare go closer to the gate. From a distance, I can tell it''s thick without any gaps between the planks. ¡°Miike, Astriid!¡± I call for them. Of course, nothing. In the middle of the muddy road, I notice a big arrow made of broken bamboo and two letters: M and A. Instant happiness and relief fill me up. ¡°It must be them! I believe!¡± I pick up the bamboo and observe it, toying with the thought of using it as my new weapon. But it''s too light and brittle. I¡¯ll pass. Running up the rocky path while I keep calling for the couple, I notice another arrow! This one points right, into the bamboo forest. I don''t hesitate even a little to enter, fully trusting the symbols on the ground. The forest is dimmer and wetter compared to the first one. The air is perfect, moist, and refreshing. It¡¯s neither cold nor hot. The wind occasionally blows, and while it does, I shake my hair to clean it of the excess dust and dirt. It''s so weird and magical, being suddenly in a completely different biome. It feels like I left Europe and appeared in Japan, divided by a few minutes of walking through the cave. I close my eyes and enjoy the breeze. *Bam* *Squelch* ¡°Ouch! What the hell?!¡± About a handful of mud hits me on the back of my head. I look around, confused. *Sniff* ¡°Ewww.¡± ¡°Gross, is this dung?¡± *Bang* Chapter 14 - New Beginnings ¡°Eww, what the heck?¡± Another massive pile of crap lands on my left shoulder this time. ¡°Fucking hell!¡± I was just enjoying how well the wind cleaned my hair, and now this?! Great. I shattered a good weapon a while ago. My broken baton! ¡°Welcome back, buddy.¡± As it materializes in my right hand, I grip it tightly, but only by one half. If it breaks, I need a backup. The heavy chair leg wasn¡¯t with me for long, but I can already feel the downgrade. Looking around in all directions, I try to figure out where the flying feces came from. No sound, no movement. *Fwoosh* A small white monkey leaps down from above the bamboo trees and lands in front of me, grinning. Completely silent, it stares at me. Apparently, I checked every direction except above. White Guardian, level 4, appears over its head with a thin bar. ¡°Oof. Okay, four, I¡¯m six. I should have a slight advantage,¡± I mutter. At least with my strength, despite the fact that primates are way too strong for their size. ¡°What¡¯s with the ¡®guardian,¡¯ though?¡± I stop questioning everything as the monkey starts to scream loudly after its initial ¡°self-presentation,¡± revealing its sharp teeth. I notice a golden bracelet on its tail, which is curled at the end with slightly longer white fur. A bit strange. Is this someone¡¯s pet?
No hesitation¡ªno waiting to see who strikes first. I step back and try to surprise it with a hit from my baton. The monkey dodges at the perfect moment, leaving me wide open. Surprisingly, it doesn¡¯t counterattack. It just keeps grinning. ¡°Damn.¡± This thing is fast and agile, dodging almost every hit I try to land. My next strategy is chaos. I start waving my broken baton like a maniac in front of me. The monkey dodges nearly every swing perfectly, but my aggression lands a few successful hits. Its health is depleting slowly, but still much faster than those damn nutrias. After pausing for a brief second to catch my breath, the White Guardian seizes the moment and suddenly gets too close to my legs. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare!¡± I smack it in the temple, and it stuns briefly. It recovers quickly and rushes at me. ¡°Ouch! Fuck!¡± It bites my left knee through the thick fabric of my pants, clamping down tightly while hugging my leg with its arms and legs. I stand there, nearly losing balance, but manage to maintain a wide stance. The teeth haven¡¯t penetrated the fabric yet, so I use the moment to smack it on the head again. The bite only tightens. ¡°Damnit!¡± Small red spots appear on my sweatpants around the monkey¡¯s mouth. I can hear it struggling to breathe. It doesn¡¯t hurt much¡ªprobably the adrenaline. There¡¯s only one way! ¡°Items!¡± I shout and quickly grab my small folding knife. I unfold it aggressively and switch to a reverse grip position. My items menu is still open. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. It might look silly with such a small knife, but I feel more powerful and theatrical with the reverse grip. A quick thought flashes through my mind. Eye or not? Nah, that¡¯ll be super gross. I don¡¯t want any more eye fluid on me today. Before my reckless stab, I make a quick decision. I stab it in the neck with an aggressive grunt. The tiny knife sinks through the white fur without any resistance. The knife is deep, with only the handle sticking out. Immediately, the monkey¡¯s pupil shrinks as life drains from its body. I watch with great interest, seeing both blood pouring out and the health bar depleting in sync. As I pull out the knife, I feel the pressure of the spine bone against the blade as the body goes numb. Finally, the jaw releases, and the monkey begins to fall. Its curved teeth are still hooked into my sweatpants, and as the monkey falls, it almost pulls my pants down with it. I grab it by the fur on top of its head and wiggle the corpse free, ditching it on the ground. *Ding* Another point and level up. I ignore it for now. ¡°Phew, that was not a pleasant experience.¡± I check my knee. There are only small bite marks and a little blood. It doesn¡¯t hurt much¡ªmaybe just stings a bit. What worries me is the possibility of infection. I pour some leftover beverage from my inventory onto it and clean it up a bit. It might help, or it might make it worse. No time to think about that now. Following the direction the arrow pointed, I keep stopping and looking around for any possible threats.
After a few minutes of walking, I see the silhouette of a structure in the distance. ¡°Some sort of temple?¡± I mutter, assuming by the pointy features and overall majestic design. ¡°Markuus!¡± ¡°Maark!¡± *Loud whistling* Joy fills me. I recognize the voice. Mike is yelling from the direction of the temple¡¯s silhouette.
I run toward the voice and approach the white temple. As I get closer, I notice that it¡¯s not a solid structure, but only four huge pillars made of marble with a marble roof and golden accents. A few convenient stairs lead inside. Instead of solid walls, there are white silk curtains covering the sides of the temple. Mike is walking toward me slowly. I wave at him to let him know it¡¯s me and that I¡¯m okay. I don¡¯t want to scare them¡ªthey¡¯ve seen me die before. Astrid suddenly appears from behind Mike and sprints to me. She hugs me instantly. ¡°I died, but it was all weird afterward. I had to sacrifice my finger, and... and I woke up at the flame,¡± I try to explain my nonsensical experience. ¡°But what happened to you guys back there? I was worried you died too.¡± ¡°We know. We were so out of control and panicked, Astrid almost didn¡¯t make it here,¡± "But how did you know?" I ask confused. Mike explains, waving his hands as he speaks. ¡°The merchant inside assured us you¡¯d be alright. It was all cryptic, but he calmed us down a bit.¡± "Pulling any info from him is like pulling teeth." He continues. ¡°Speak for yourself, Mikey,¡± Astrid adds. ¡°We¡¯re here because of my little Pocco.¡± She notes with a tear in her eye. ¡°He saved us, teleported us right behind the gate, but then disappeared.¡± ¡°He had something new in his eyes. More sentient than ever. I think he tried to communicate with us for that brief moment,¡± she explains with deep emotion. ¡°We found a second door beside the castle gate. It was on the wall of the mountain, but it was shut from the other side,¡± Mike adds. I nod, trying to interrupt and explain my experience. ¡°Yes, yes, I went through that door. Heavy, but I managed to push it open from the inside.¡± He pauses, waiting for me to tell my side of the story, but I urge him to continue first. ¡°While following the path through the bamboo, we were ambushed by a white monkey. It threw feces at us, but we managed to make it near the temple,¡± he says, dusting off dried stuff from his jacket. ¡°Astrid fell asleep out of exhaustion on the stairs there,¡± he points to the marble staircase, partially covered by long curtains. ¡°I went in and got myself a new weapon.¡± He opens his inventory, and a long medieval saber expands in his hand from thin air. ¡°Dope!¡± I¡¯m super impressed at first, but the longer I look at it, the more I notice how weathered and poor in quality it is. I¡¯m no expert, but it definitely doesn¡¯t meet modern standards. Still, for the medieval age, it¡¯s probably good. ¡°I was planning on taking out that monkey the whole time, but Astrid was still sleeping. Then we heard the screeches of a beast, and then you showed up.¡± He finishes, glancing at my bloody right wrist. ¡°There¡¯s no monkey anymore, right?¡± He assumes from my smirk. ¡°Go stock up. We¡¯ll continue later.¡± He turns away and waves his hand. ¡°You bought this for twelve coins?¡± I ask him, one foot on the first stair. ¡°Nah, it cost me my brand-new Samsung.¡± Chapter 15 - Farewell, Old Friend ¡°A phone for a sabre? Who the hell needs a dead phone here?¡± ¡°Just get in. You¡¯ll see. But be warned, he¡¯s quite large,¡± he says, gesturing with his arm for me to step in. Pulling aside the curtain, I¡¯m immediately struck by what I see. A massive, morbidly obese humanoid creature the size of a small bus looms before me, adorned in a white and gold tunic. Huge, fat legs with small feet and golden bracelets stand out. I have no idea what this thing is. Human? Giant? Alien? Or some kind of god? It seems unable to move on its own, sitting there like a mountain on a pile of large, colorful pillows trimmed with gold. Its skin is an ashen light gray. The creature slowly lowers its bald head, causing its chin to quadruple in size, and looks at me with empty, dark eyes. I gulp in fear as its massive, surreal presence looms close to my face. ¡°Third foreigner,¡± the giant intones, its deep, echoing voice sending a gust of metallic-scented air into my face. To my surprise, the scent is not unpleasant. A window, like the plates we¡¯ve seen already, pops up in front of my face.
Path of steel
Path of steed
Path of shadow
Staring into the giant¡¯s face, I raise a hand with a curled index finger and choose the first option that catches my eye, bringing a pleasant feeling. I love things that are steady and solid. ¡°Good,¡± the merchant¡¯s deep voice rumbles. I open my inventory and briefly compare the metal plates. Since I¡¯m standing close to the merchant¡¯s plate and mine always appears in the same spot, I watch how they intersect, just as I expected. Quickly, I pull out my old cracked smartphone with my left hand and my coin satchel with my right. ¡°How do I pay? I don¡¯t have any valuables besides these,¡± I ask humbly. "You will pay with what truly matters to its owner." Knowing from Mike that the merchant was interested in his phone¡ªhe successfully traded his latest Samsung for a simple sabre¡ªI¡¯m concerned. For my super old, laggy, and cracked phone, I¡¯d be lucky to get a random stick. The merchant raises a hand almost the size of my torso and gently picks up the phone between his thumb and index finger. He sniffs it. ¡°Ahhh. This has been with you every day for almost eight years. It saved lives, helped you through many hard situations, and was your daily servant. You¡¯ve formed a strong bond with it.¡± I¡¯m baffled by his words and just stare as he continues to sniff the phone. ¡°Precious.¡± The contents of the bronze plate shift into two categories.
Weapons Armor
Without hesitation, I choose Weapons. The plate¡¯s content shifts again, revealing three miniature weapons.
A thick Sabre A brick Hammer A black Halberd
Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. The sabre is shiny, long, and slightly curved, with a thick, wide blade, a leather-covered hilt, a bronze quillon, and a huge pommel. It has a Mediterranean feel, though I¡¯m not sure I like it at first glance. It looks spectacular, but let¡¯s see it in full size. As I hover my hand over the icon, the sabre begins to materialize in my palm. I grip it tightly, expecting it to swing easily. The sabre is unexpectedly heavy, bending my hand almost instantly, nearly breaking my wrist. I¡¯m lucky to step back just in time as it almost stabs through my foot. What baffles me is the quality¡ªit looks simply magnificent, polished, and detailed compared to Mike¡¯s sabre. I glance at the merchant awkwardly. He shows no reaction. I leave the sabre on the ground and touch the halberd. If the sabre was that heavy, I wouldn¡¯t dare even touch the hammer. The moment I touch it, the sabre on the ground starts to shrink and disappears, transported back into its original place. The halberd, the third weapon in a row, is very long. As it materializes, it slides down my hand and thuds heavily onto the marble floor. I quickly check for cracks and sigh in relief when I find none. I glance back at the merchant awkwardly. He ignores my clumsiness and occasionally sniffs the old smartphone. The thin black metal pole, topped with a bronze ax and spike, gleams with a bronze hue from certain angles, but mostly appears black. I hold it clumsily, unsure if I¡¯m holding the halberd or if the halberd is preventing me from falling down. As the halberd is almost twice my height, I appreciate the range it would have in combat. It¡¯s an excellent-looking weapon, and the thin, cold black handle fits my hand quite well, cooling my sweaty palms. The pole is well-crafted, with a matte texture for better grip, and the ax on top looks sharp and precisely forged. I don¡¯t dare to drop it and hold it correctly as a halberd; I know this won¡¯t work out for me. Shaking my head in disbelief, I assume the hammer would be an even worse option. While leaning over the halberd, I extend my right index finger and point towards the hammer with a sigh. Its leather-wrapped handle, with a small pommel at the end, starts to expand in front of me. I¡¯m ready to let it go if things go wrong, even if it means breaking one of the marble stairs. My wrist is more valuable. "Ahah!" My hand grips a bit late, and the hammer head rests on top of my tightly closed fist. I crouch as I almost drop it by instinct while it¡¯s still expanding. But then, it stops. It¡¯s surprisingly smaller than I imagined. After the halberd, which is nearly twice my height, and the one-handed sabre that would be too large even for a strongman, I expected this thing to be at least a sledgehammer. I¡¯m not sure what the handle is made of, as the bottom part is covered with a bronze pommel, and the rest of the handle is tightly wrapped in light brown leather. The pommel seems to be the same material as the head. It¡¯s shaped like a rectangular stone hammer used by masons¡ªneither too big nor too small. It¡¯s indeed heavy, and I struggle to swing it more than a few times, yet I know this is my choice. The craftsmanship is beautiful as far as I can tell, based on what I¡¯ve seen of Mike¡¯s sabre. The hammer head is a golden mirror, almost blinding me as I swing it. "Can¡¯t wait to get this one dirty! Hahaa!" The phrase escapes me in a moment of joy as I gaze at it with a grin. My expression quickly shifts to a poker face when I realize I got carried away. The merchant eagerly awaits my answer while holding my phone close to his thin gray lips. ¡°I¡¯ll keep the hammer,¡± I say calmly, lowering my gaze in respect. ¡°Confirmed,¡± the humongous deity responds, opening its large mouth. I struggle to hold myself together as I notice two rows of small, yet spiky teeth. ¡°Jesus,¡± I whisper, rubbing my eyes. As my prehistoric phone enters his mouth, one of the pointy teeth bites through the back. It starts to whistle, and thick smoke billows out. The merchant¡¯s neck suddenly resembles a thick chimney, like those at power plants. I hold the hammer facing the ground and watch with concern, wondering what will happen next. The merchant closes his mouth and seems to savor the snack a bit too much, letting out a sound of pleasure as his eyes close. I leave the temple in a hurry without a word. "Daaaaaamn, Mark! What the hell is even that?!" Mike approaches theatrically, inspecting my hammer from every direction. He crouches and stares at it. "What did you leave there? Your goddamn soul?" he continues. ¡°My phone. Just as you said,¡± I reply curtly. From his expression, I can tell he feels tricked. "Astrid gave up her new iPhone, I wasted my flagship Samsung. Which one did you give him?" he asks, a bit unsettled. ¡°Err, I gave him my, probably, eight-year-old phone. I lost count. I¡¯ve had it since I started high school. We couldn¡¯t afford anything better back home.¡± I explain. ¡°Well, it seems that he wants items with high sentimental value,¡± Astrid steps into the conversation. She holds a weathered wooden bow in her left hand, and a simple quiver made of pelt hangs over her shoulder. I can count her few arrows on my fingers. *Bang* *Thud* My eyes widen in shock as she¡¯s suddenly knocked to the ground. Chapter 16 - Guardians’ Rampage ¡°Astrid!¡± Mike quickly steps towards her and leans over, shielding her with his body. She lies on the ground, a big muddy ball stuck to the side of her head, tangled deep in her hair. I can hear her starting to cry. ¡°Quickly, let¡¯s hide you near the merchant inside.¡± He starts to pull her up the marble staircase, which has short yet long steps, all the while looking around. I stand on guard, though the hammer in my arm already makes it strain a lot. ¡°That one point.¡± ¡°Please make at least some difference!¡± Opening my stats panel, my muscle memory instinctively ticks the strength plus 1 button. ¡°Finally, two digits!¡± A small burst of energy pulses through my body from my head to the tips of my fingers. Now I grasp the hammer in the correct place and raise it with better ease. ¡°Placebo or not, I must be stronger¡ªat least a bit!¡±
Markus Hale foreigner level 7
Strength 10 no skill
Agility 3 no skill
Willpower 4 no skill
Endurance 3 no skill
¡°Stop it! I¡¯ll go with you!¡± Astrid refuses to stay, while Mike pulls the mud out of her hair with his bare hands. I wait for them to join my position, swinging my hammer in the meantime, adjusting my arm to its weight. Astrid wipes her tears with the sleeves of her patterned parka, which she wears over her summer dress. We move at a normal pace, keeping our guard up. ¡°Uu, ua, ua, ua, ua,¡± Mike mimics some primate noises. *Swoosh* A White Guardian, level 4, descends quickly from a bamboo tree and tries to attack Mike. He probably mocked them in their language because the primate is more than furious at him. Unsheathing the rusty blade in a blink of an eye, he slashes it over the monkey''s shoulder, making a bloody slit. His move was pretty damn sleek. He must¡¯ve trained while I was gone. *Dull thud* The monkey screams obnoxiously loudly and falls as a heavy wooden arrow pierces its back. I raise my surprised gaze at Astrid. A strand of her hair waves in the air, caught by the leftover bowstring vibration. There¡¯s nothing above its head anymore¡ªit¡¯s dead, and I believe she got rewarded.
Rustling leaves signal the approach of a group of three more monkeys. In the distance, three silhouettes are shambling towards us. As if that weren¡¯t enough, two more descend from above, landing close by. I start to panic a bit as the one on the left is level 5. White Guardian, level 5, and White Guardian, level 4 It shouldn¡¯t be a big deal theoretically, but this one could be faster, stronger, and possibly more durable. As the wielder of the clearly superior weapon, I choose to clash with the stronger one. Mike knows what to do and positions himself in the way of the weaker one. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Astrid quickly notches her arrow, securing it in place on the bowstring. She raises it to eye level and tracks one of the three in the approaching group while aiming. I grasp my hammer tightly and jump from side to side, blocking the monkey¡¯s path to our ranged unit¡ªthe pale red-haired young woman. The beautiful pristine hammerhead shines with a quick golden flash as I turn unpredictably and bash the monkey right on the temple. The hammer loses its virginity. The strong sound of cracking skull will stay with me for a while. Surprisingly, the beast is still alive, yet it makes no sound at all. Only a tiny sliver of health remains in its health bar. On the other hand, Mike¡¯s monkey is screeching enough for both of them. While mine clumsily rushes towards my legs, I take a peek at Mike¡¯s situation. It¡¯s not white anymore¡ªalmost fully red, covered in blood. His average sabre does a great job of slicing open wounds, even through the fur. One of the approaching trio somehow manages to speed up towards Mike, angered by his methodical torture. I¡¯m sure he could¡¯ve simply stabbed or even impaled them outright, but he chooses to slice them all over. I believe this will negatively impact the sharpness of his blade. He didn¡¯t mention anything about a sharpening stone being included with his purchase. Astrid fires at the monkey sprinting towards Mike, hitting it in the left side of the torso. The animal¡¯s own momentum sends it into a ragdoll spin. Its body tumbles to the ground as it struggles to regain control. I don¡¯t hesitate with mine any longer and smash it again in the same spot, sinking one-third of the hammerhead into the monkey¡¯s skull, creating a perfect round hole. Blood and brain fluid start to spill out, covering my hammer and the monkey itself. I step on the monkey¡¯s tail, pry my weapon out of the wound, and let the carcass thud to the ground. The ragdolling one is crawling back up, while Astrid readies the finishing blow. I quickly move towards another one, the leftmost of the group. It seems that all three newcomers are level 5. With my already overstrained forearm, I keep swinging the hammer in front of the beast, trying to land a hit. It dodges well, with a few occasional scratches on my sweatpants. The thick fabric once again proves to be great protection. Mike¡¯s approach is, again, more brutal. He slashes one across the belly multiple times, nearly spilling its guts. Then he finally stabs it through the neck, almost decapitating it. As I continue to try to land a blow on mine, my strongest strike misses and lands on its back. *Loud gruesome crack* I break its spine, and the monkey collapses instantly, screeching and unable to move. Another two are incoming in the distance. A brief eye contact with Astrid as I shift towards the next target signals her. She gives the paralyzed monkey a quick mercy shot to the chest. Again, my side is left. A rushing monkey, level 5, zig-zags towards me, and I use its own momentum to swing the hammer. I miss and hit the ground, burying my hammer in the soil. Luckily, the furry ape¡¯s tail gets in my way, and I stomp on it, pinning the beast for a moment. Enough time to swing my hammer and paralyze it by smashing the back of its neck, breaking the spine in two. What¡¯s left is the mercy blow. I hear a satisfying *Ding.* Eager to spend the point, I wait with Astrid for Mike to finish his fight. Mike slashes the last one across the face. Cutting its lips and gums, the small monkey looks terrifying, exposing even more teeth, all covered in blood. His slash ends at the eyelid, cutting it wide open. With nearly all its health depleted, he decides to stab it in the eye for the finishing blow. Unfortunately, his sabre slips to the side, severing the eye cord loose. Then the tip enters the head from behind the eye. Its eyeball falls out while the beast is still alive. Astrid almost pukes and turns away. I watch with a disgusted expression. The eye, already covered in dirt as it rolled across the ground, lies near his feet. Mike pushes his weapon deeper into the skull, finally hitting the brain and killing the animal instantly. ¡°Phew.¡± He wipes the sweat from his forehead. ¡°That was indeed gruesome,¡± he notes, cleaning his sabre on the monkey¡¯s fur. Astrid looks a bit shocked. ¡°Did we basically massacre some animals here?¡± She asks, worried. ¡°They would do the same to us. Look at Mark¡¯s knees and my arm,¡± Mike reasons while pulling up his sleeve to reveal a moderately deep scratch. ¡°What¡¯s up with this golden bracelet on their tails?¡± He asks, stomping on the tail and crouching down to touch it. ¡°Don¡¯t! Mikey, we don¡¯t know who owns them or why they have it,¡± Astrid cautions. ¡°Yeah, don¡¯t. It suspiciously matches the merchant¡¯s theme¡ªwhite and gold...¡± Before I can even finish my suggestion, he slips the bracelet off and examines it at eye level. Astrid grunts and sighs afterward. ¡°Right! And in front of the temple...¡± She points back at it with her arm. ¡°The temple?¡± Mike asks, confused. Chapter 17 - Chit-Chat ¡°What the heck?¡± Astrid and I are facing the temple with our backs to Mike. He has this confused and disoriented expression, as if his memory was wiped clean. ¡°Mikey?!¡± his worried girlfriend asks. ¡°You okay?¡± ¡°The temple!¡± He points his finger behind us. We both turn around. ¡°Fucking hell!¡± I scratch the back of my head with my left palm. ¡°I told you, Mike! Why? You. Can¡¯t. Listen. Once!¡± This is the first time I¡¯ve heard her truly angry. The temple is gone, and white fog is slowly settling where it stood. ¡°How do you know this was because of me?¡± he tries to wiggle out of the situation. ¡°Because it¡¯s always you!¡± I pretend not to listen and move a few steps away. My hammer is indeed heavy, and my wrist would appreciate a bit of rest. Wiping the bloody hammerhead on the weeds and leaves, I let it shrink back into the inventory plate. They continue to argue.
After it calms down at least a bit, I continue. ¡°Well, I was about to say...¡± ¡°Let¡¯s stick around the temple for a while and make a good plan. But it¡¯s too late already.¡± Astrid quickly nods, looking at me. ¡°I suggest we backtrack to a ¡®safer¡¯ spot, but first, we need to summarize what we know so far.¡± Trying to grasp control of the situation, I eagerly wait for their response. ¡°Of course. Continue,¡± Astrid gives me the space, while Mike listens, ashamed. ¡°So, where to start... Ehm, I''ll tell you my observations.¡± ¡°Since we appeared here, almost every living thing we¡¯ve encountered has been hostile. I believe the merchant at the shack is one of them too.¡± Mike interrupts me, gesturing at Astrid to continue. ¡°Astrid will tell you a thing or two about the merchant in the shack.¡± ¡°Just a moment before Pocco appeared, I think I saw that crippled merchant crawling out of a trapdoor behind the golden chest.¡± I raise my eyebrows, trying to recall which chest we¡¯ve seen so far. ¡°The chest was under the statue. The one...¡± she says with hesitation. I look into her eyes and nod, appreciating her empathy. Mike interrupts again. ¡°I wonder what could be in it. Why is such a monstrosity needed for protection?¡± ¡°A merchant would like to expand his inventory or use something for himself?¡± He speculates, looking up and touching his chin. ¡°It¡¯d better be a new pair of legs,¡± I add, and Astrid chuckles. I cut my smile short and continue seriously. ¡°The tunnel that led through the mountain contains another flame bowl, just like the one we found at the beginning. It¡¯s dark in there and moist.¡± I continue describing the details while leaning against a cluster of bamboo. ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± Mike interrupts. ¡°No. There are enemies, but buckle up¡ªyou won¡¯t believe me.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve got my attention now,¡± Mike adds as Astrid pokes him. ¡°There are turtles with eight legs and ten glowing eyes, called spider turtles. They¡¯re not fast in their turtle state, but once they extend another four legs, they move like a bitch.¡± Mike stares into the distance. ¡°Dear God.¡± Astrid looks at me and frowns. ¡°Are you serious or kidding?¡± ¡°Sadly, yes. And we probably need to go back through there if we want to get the precious water.¡± ¡°Are you referring to the stream?¡± Astrid asks. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°What stream?¡± Mike interrupts. ¡°The one on the opposite side we went to first. I told you right in the morning I could hear water! Did you forget? I¡¯m glad at least someone heard it as well,¡± Astrid explains. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.¡°I thought it was obvious there was a stream nearby. To be honest, I don¡¯t know if I regret the decision that we went this way,¡± I add, looking down at the ground. ¡°I was the one heading first towards the meadows and all the shitshow that awaited us.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t blame yourself. At least now we know what to do. I could use some water, not just for drinking,¡± Astrid adds. ¡°Well, why can¡¯t we go further through the bamboo forest?¡± Mike steps in. ¡°There could be a stream anywhere. Let me prove it.¡± He proceeds to jog towards the area where the merchant¡¯s temple was.
¡°You know, I¡¯m still toying with the thought of trying to get back to that hole. Maybe it will take us back home,¡± I tell Astrid while Mike is away. ¡°I agree. Let¡¯s end this,¡± Astrid nods in approval. She gently stomps on the carcass of a monkey and pulls one of her arrows. It¡¯s tough to do, and I offer her some help. The tip tears through the flesh as we pull it out, making quite a resistance. Cleaning it on the white fur, I hand the arrow back to Astrid and continue. ¡°But if it doesn¡¯t work... and my gut tells me it won¡¯t, our only option to survive and find answers is through leveling up.¡± ¡°Level up after level up. Killing low-level foes to avoid damage is not a hard tactic. We can grind, for example, the nutrias and even face that old knight later on. We can establish a base and clear the area,¡± I suggest to Astrid, probably with a flame in my eyes, as the thought of certainty and security is enough to brighten my mood and hype me up. ¡°I know I¡¯m getting ahead of myself, but...¡± ¡°Yes, I get it.¡± She nods. *Loud roar in the distance, rumbling, and a strong wind, followed by screeching.* The wind blows from afar, whistling through the bamboo. Mike sprints towards us, and we follow him immediately.
We run down the alley and arrive back at the courtyard gate and the cave entrance. Ignoring the path that leads up along the forest, we decide to squeeze right into the cavern. The roaring and that ominous wind feel worse than a spider turtle. The door is only crack open as I managed to push it before. Entering the cave squeezing myself, I jump towards the fire and sit down. Every one of us leveled up while annihilating those monkeys. We sit and catch our breath, fidgeting with our skill points. Strength is it again for me. I smile a bit as another almost unnoticeable shockwave moves from the back of my head to the tips of my fingers. I only got one level since mine is already 8, but I bet they got more from all those monkeys.
Markus Hale foreigner level 8
Strength 11 no skill
Agility 3 no skill
Willpower 4 no skill
Endurance 3 no skill
Mike finishes his and leans towards the bowl. Flames are burning straight through his hair, making it wave in flames. Astrid proceeds to show me her simple wooden bow and quiver containing about a dozen arrows. ¡°Pulling my bow isn¡¯t a big deal, but my fingers hurt a bit too much.¡± ¡°I tried using a handkerchief, but it breaks my aim.¡± ¡°It would be great to find some gloves or buy them, but since Mike made the store vanish...¡± *Zzzzzzzzz* Astrid rolls her eyes and turns to Mike. ¡°Mike?¡± ¡°Are you listening?¡± *Snork, zzzz, tchick* ¡°Wh... What? I must have fallen asleep for a second.¡± Astrid turns her head from Mike to me without further reaction. ¡°Yes, a second." "It might be too soon, but something tells me that endurance might help a bit. Consider it,¡± I suggest to her. She nods and spends her points on endurance. She then tries to pull the string. ¡°I felt a brief clench over my body when I assigned those points. I think it hurts a little less¡ªmaybe even the same. Could be a placebo,¡± she notes. ¡°I really wonder what willpower is for and why mine is the highest, though.¡± ¡°Sounds like it has something to do with magic. But the only form we¡¯ve found so far was in that upside-down hall¡ªsome kind of gravity manipulation. I don¡¯t know,¡± I note. ¡°Can you tell us more about the death? We stopped summarizing what we know so far and didn¡¯t continue it. I need more answers. The merchant only told us that you¡¯d be back soon, but nothing else,¡± Astrid leads the conversation. ¡°Well, death was painful. Extremely. All I wished for was for it to end quickly.¡± ¡°Then I found myself in some sort of strange place where I had to make a sacrifice. I could choose from my fingers which to give as a toll for my death.¡± ¡°And I was reborn at the very beginning. So probably, we have to backtrack all the way when we die.¡± ¡°Peculiar,¡± adds Astrid. ¡°That¡¯s why I suggested we make our base close to the spawn point and only raid out for occasional exploration.¡± Mike nods resolutely. I proceed to take off my shoe and show them the wound. They both swallow, looking frightened. Astrid speculates. ¡°I think everyone is punished the same way. What if even the enemies are? We should check their limbs. Remember that crippled merchant who tricked us?¡± ¡°You think he¡¯s one of us?¡± I wonder. ¡°Oh, I want to ask him a thing or two,¡± says Mike angrily. ¡°What about Pocco, Astrid? Can you somehow call him back? Or will he only appear in certain situations?¡± ¡°No idea, Markus. I suggest we should go before it¡¯s dark. Don¡¯t forget we need to move past the knight and deal with the tunnel.¡±
We chat about more observations, drinking and eating the leftovers. Mike leans outward from the protective light, unsheathing his sword. ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± he whispers. Chapter 18 - The Cost of Persistence Unsheathing our weapons and ignoring the trapdoor above us, we scan the tunnel for the turtles. ¡°There, on the ceiling. There¡¯s one,¡± I point my finger at the blob with a squishy resting hear. ¡°Astrid, can you aim for its head?¡± She nods and carefully takes aim. In the poorly lit area, she misses the small target. The arrow bounces off its shell and falls to the ground with a skitter. ¡°We need more light!¡± Mike decides, rushing to fully open the door. I join him, and together we push the heavy stone slab door wide open, letting in as much light as possible. We quickly return back past the flame, close to Astrid. ¡°This will do!¡± We nod at each other as a large portion of the cave is now well illuminated. Meanwhile, Astrid fires another shot. This time, the arrow pierces the creature''s neck and gets stuck. A health bar appears above its head, already half depleted. ¡°Great, at least you woke it up,¡± says Mike, moving toward the spider turtle, unsheathing his sabre. Eyes and legs pop out, and the creature quickly advances across the cave dome ceiling toward us. *Slash and chomp* I hear the clunk of metal striking the shell, followed by an unsettling cutting noise and a weird gurgling sound. Mike buries his blade into the turtle¡¯s neck, making a deep cut halfway through. The turtle quickly retreats, its head dangling by a thread of flesh, blood spilling everywhere, mostly dripping from the ceiling as it maneuvers in circles. The creature struggles to breathe, blood filling its windpipe, causing it to gurgle. The health bar drains slowly. Terrifying sound to hear as it echoes through the cave. ¡°Leave it, Mike. Let''s move forward. It¡¯ll eventually die from hemorrhage,¡± I suggest. *Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop.* Five more health bars appear in the dark area. Of course, they don''t illuminate the environment, but the strong light from the cave door and the spider¡¯s glowing eyes do at least a bit. ¡°Nice! They see us and hide thinking we don''t see them, but the system makes them visible. What a stupid flaw. Stealthy foes are basically useless. Haha!¡± shouts Mike and turns back to our archer. ¡°Astrid, this fight isn¡¯t for your bow. Stay behind us, be an extra pair of eyes, and finish off the ones we immobilize.¡± I quickly move to keep up with Mike. Repeating my tactic from before, but now with better illumination. The turtles seem to switch to their faster phase after losing half their health. I smack the one I can reach to, in the middle of the shell with my hammer. *Loud crack.* It¡¯s almost the same sound as opening a walnut with a nutcracker. Well a way bigger walnut. *Slurp* The turtle retreats into its shell. Another strong smash follows with another *Crack.* ¡°Mike! Now! It¡¯s open! Before it loses too much health!¡± Mike knows exactly what I¡¯m planning. He stops slashing the limbs of another turtle, takes a few quick steps backward, spins, and drives his sabre¡¯s tip into the opening I created. The high-pitched noise stops. ¡°I can see much better now; my eyes have adjusted!¡± he says, moving back to the immobile turtle he had crippled by slashing its limbs. With half its health gone, the turtle begins to morph into its second phase. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. *Thud* Astrid pins an arrow into one of its eyes. Red jelly starts to pour out. Mike rushes in and stabs the creature through the other eye. His sabre goes in easily but somehow gets stuck. The turtle squeals, and its health bar drains steadily. He braces against it with his leg, struggling to stay in place as the armored hybrid resists. ¡°Let me help. I¡¯ll make another opening.¡± Trying to hit precisely to avoid bending Mike¡¯s sabre, I accidentally scratch it with my hammerhead. Sparks fly on impact. His sabre is freed, and I switch arms, my right forearm is too pumped and hurts. Smashing another hole in the shell, I leave it to Mike to finish it off. Then I rush toward the group of turtles further down, in complete darkness. I can only see their silhouettes, dimly lit eyes, and health bars. *Bash, Crack, Smack* Raging, I hit everything in my path, cracking shells and occasionally striking eyes, causing them to explode. One turtle dies after I land a direct hit on its head, turning it into mashed potatoes. I fiercely turn in the fight, taking a quick glance at my hammer. It reflects some of the flame from the distant bowl. ¡°This feels really good! These moves are sleek!¡± I say to myself, but I¡¯m interrupted by a sharp pain in my knee. ¡°Shit! That hurts! Fuck!¡± The turtle¡¯s head looks pretty harmless, yet it stings like hell! It has many rows of tiny but razor-sharp teeth. I bash the turtle¡¯s shell to pieces, annihilating its eyes in the process. Disgusting yet satisfying. All before they even transform into their faster phase. My hammer buries itself inside their intestines and through the bottom of their shell, creating a square-shaped hole. It seems the bottom part is brittle¡ªmust be their weakest point. Repeating the process, I smash two more into unidentifiable goo without taking any significant damage. A satisfying *Ding* is my reward.
Markus Hale foreigner level 9
Strength 12 no skill
Agility 3 no skill
Willpower 4 no skill
Endurance 3 no skill
Mike and Astrid don¡¯t hesitate for a second, wiping out the remaining turtles. Astrid stabs them with an arrow in hand, while Mike precisely stabs and cuts them. Once every sound, movement, and light is gone, we run to the end of the cave. Squeezing through a narrow crack one by one. Outside the cave, I take a deep breath of fresh air. Disemboweling those hybrids released a horrible stench that soaked into our clothes and shoes. Astrid lost three arrows in the fight, and I dulled part of Mike¡¯s weapon. Not sure if I can call this a successful raid¡ªmore like a necessary one. If these demons spawn again, we¡¯d better avoid this direction altogether. So far, nothing has been easy. ¡°Markus, your knee again. Are you alright?¡± Astrid asks while sipping from her water bottle. She drips the last few drops. Mike wants to offer his, but it¡¯s even emptier.
We gallop down the rocky road with an annoying slope, making us wobble as we walk. I ask the couple how it¡¯s possible that Astrid can shoot the bow so precisely. Mike smirks at me. ¡°She chose that bow because her high school PE teacher was a member of a historical fencing group that practiced LARP. He was an over-motivated lunatic who brought real weap...¡± ¡°He was a historian and enthusiast,¡± Astrid interrupts him. ¡°He taught optional classes for free after school and over the weekends. I spent my whole summer shooting hundreds and hundreds of arrows with various bows, both modern and historical replicas.¡± ¡°Good for you, Astrid.¡± I genuinely appreciate it. ¡°But then he got expelled for safety reasons,¡± adds Mike. ¡°Yes, it¡¯s true,¡± she confirms with a sad tone after seeing me waiting.
Almost near the end of the rocky road, close to the merchant¡¯s shack, Mike suddenly decides to run ahead. ¡°Hey! No, no, no... I see where you¡¯re heading. We don¡¯t need to visit him,¡± Astrid tries to stop Mike. He doesn¡¯t listen and storms the shack, bashing through the door. We speed up and follow him in. *Swoosh* Mike unsheathes his still-bloody sabre and points it at the merchant. ¡°You traitor! What was all this?¡± The merchant looks at the three of us with a superior air, yet his eyes betray extreme disappointment. Was it because he couldn¡¯t get what was in the chest? A quick thought flashes through my mind. ¡°What¡¯s so precious that you¡¯d lure three innocent people to their deaths?¡± Mike presses, his voice rising. ¡°Pass,¡± the old wrinkled creature with long gray hair responds. ¡°What pass? Talk, or I¡¯m going to slit your throat, you sleazy dastard!¡± Mike yells, almost touching the merchant¡¯s chin with his blade. ¡°Don¡¯t you filthy dare threaten me!¡± Mike isn¡¯t afraid and continues to press. The tension in the shack is so thick you could cut it with a knife. The old man points his only hand at Mike, his fingers in a flicking position. Chapter 19 - Rest In Pieces *Blast* *Rainfall noise* Astrid screams in terror as her partner disappears in the blink of an eye. *Bloody, heavy rain falls on us for a few seconds.* I keep my mouth and eyes shut, trying not to breathe. *Mike''s saber spins on the ground.* ¡°Now get the hell out!¡± the merchant says angrily. Frightened to death, I quickly grab the spinning saber and Astrid by the hand. We run away from the shack. She¡¯s shaking from shock and can¡¯t walk anymore. ¡°Astrid, I know. Please, pull yourself together. He¡¯ll be alright. Back at the starting point.¡± I try to calm her down by reasoning. ¡°At least his first time wasn¡¯t painful at all, look at me!¡± Blood and tiny pieces of flesh are all over my front and in my hair. Astrid is soaked with blood and matter. As she trembles, tiny pieces of intestines slide off her. I try to wipe the blood and flick pieces of meat from my hair and hers too. Wiping the blood from my shirt with my bare hands only makes it worse, soaking it further into the fabric. We¡¯re almost completely covered in red. It smells terrible¡ªraw and nauseating. I nearly vomit but hold it in for her sake.
I drag her down the road and into the tall grass. ¡°Do as I do.¡± I lay down in the tall grass and start rolling from side to side. It cleans me as best it can. She does the same, and we sit for a bit among the long stems. At least we¡¯re somewhat safe. After a few moments of processing, she starts to speak. ¡°You saw that too, for a brief moment? Right?¡± ¡°You mean that long French-sounding name, starting with ¡®Sir¡¯ and ending with a three-digit level number?¡± ¡°Then yes,¡± I answer. ¡°That means he¡¯s the same as us?¡± She shakes her head. ¡°It seems like it. All those missing limbs and everything suspicious. It¡¯s just speculation, but it all seems to fit together,¡± I guess.
We talk for a bit, speculating about the guy, trying to process what just happened. ¡°He¡¯ll be alright, well-rested at the fire. Believe me.¡± I comfort her again before we move on. We¡¯re walking down the path, almost forgetting about the knight. ¡°That damn knight again. We just need to wait until he does his patrol and then run!¡± ¡°Crouch and take a breath,¡± I say, leading the way. The knight stares into the distance for a while before starting to walk left at the crossroads, opposite where the forest we slept in is. He¡¯s almost halfway across the meadow from the crossroads. ¡°Wait, wait. A bit more.¡± Crouched in the tall grass, I whisper to Astrid. ¡°Would it be dumb to try attacking him with our new weapons?¡± She hesitates. ¡°I know. You want to try shooting at him. There¡¯s a small chance you¡¯ll hit an unprotected spot. His armor seems very tight, even at the joints. And after that, you¡¯d never recover those arrows.¡± I shake my head in disagreement. She nods. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. The knight starts to turn around, probably ready to march back to the center of the crossroads. He¡¯ll stand there too long for us to wait. Mike could storm in and unleash another unwanted battle in the meantime. I tighten my shoelaces, dried blood cracking and falling off them. ¡°Now!¡± I whisper. We both stand up and sprint like madmen. Ignoring everything around us, I occasionally check on Astrid. She¡¯s a bit slower, but only because of her shorter legs. He¡¯s spotted us. I don¡¯t know this by sight but by the loud sound of metal plates grinding against each other. He must be sprinting. Not turning around, just focusing on the distance, I concentrate on running. The sound of metal grows louder, and I imagine all the terrible scenarios. Is this guy a terminator? How the hell can he catch up to us in that armor? The increasing stress pumps more adrenaline; I¡¯m going beyond my limits. Astrid is slim and fitter than me. Despite her size, she outruns me. Her casual summer dress flutters in front of me, and occasionally, a piece of mud hits my face from her sneakers. Thank God we¡¯re not in the 90s. Combining Nikes with dresses would be a faux pas, and she¡¯d definitely be wearing shoes impossible to jog in. At least I don¡¯t need to worry about her and can focus on my own struggles. The pain in my chest becomes unbearable, and despite breathing like a bull, I can¡¯t get enough oxygen. Just before I faint and collapse like a sack of potatoes, I notice the sound stops. Coasting on inertia, I finally stop and throw myself into the tall grass. I hope no nutria jumps out; that would be a hell of a coincidence.
¡°Mike. Mike! Are you there?¡± Astrid shouts, jogging towards the flame. Breathing heavily I feel ashamed as something whistles in my chest. I lean my arm over my knee. ¡°I woke up. *Inhale* Over there, at the bowl. *Inhale* I don¡¯t understand it. *Inhale* How could he have left so fast? *Inhale*¡± Damn. Darth Vader without a mask sounds healthier. ¡°What if he¡¯s at the other one? In the cave,¡± Astrid suggests, clearly worried. ¡°Why? Because we visited it last? *Inhale*¡± I reply, curious. ¡°The flame and the bowl are identical; I checked out the cave one thoroughly. It could be a checkpoint of some sort.¡± Astrid suggests, considering the possibility. ¡°Good point. We can return, but only as a backup. Your partner is fit and knows how to handle things.¡± I suggest. ¡°Eh, come on.¡± She shrugs, waving her arm dismissively.
We¡¯re squatting in the grass near the knight¡¯s position, peeking through the stems. I kneel on one knee to avoid the pressure and the inevitable fart. A few moments pass, and meanwhile, I keep peeling off pieces of Mike from my clothes. Astrid looks extremely worried. I bet she¡¯s thinking, what if not everyone comes back? I don¡¯t interfere or try to reassure her; I¡¯m not sure myself.
Her expression finally changes as she focuses on the horizon. A relieved smile appears on her face, and she visibly relaxes. The wrinkles on her forehead fade as she spots Mike¡¯s silhouette. ¡°Listen! Grab these rocks. What if he engages the knight? I bet a good shot could dent that armor, at least.¡± I suggest, burying my fingers deep in the soil, fishing for the largest stones. No. God, please. Just go and sneak! I try to manipulate him with my eyes alone. He keeps walking straight, not noticing us. Astrid sighs. I hold up my folded shirt, filled with rocks and pebbles. ¡°Come and face me!¡± ¡°Aaargh!¡± *Clang* *Ring* Mike¡¯s saber bounces off the shiny, heavy metal cuirass. There are no visible gaps. He stands no chance. This calls for blunt weapons. This knight could only be taken down one way¡ªcompressed into a cube. ¡°Wait. What the heck! Didn¡¯t we take the saber?¡± We look at each other, confused. I quickly open my inventory and check the miniature. His saber is still present. The knight reaches for his claymore on his back. A quick nod is enough, and we know what to do. Standing up, rushing to a safe distance, we begin the meteorite rite. *Bang* *Clang* *Thud* *Ring* A hail of rocks provokes him, and he starts to flail, losing aggro on Mike. Mike sprints, and we shout at the knight. After a few dozen dents, he starts sprinting toward us, trampling the grass. I drop the shirt, and the remaining rocks fall at my feet. Another cowardly run. I¡¯ve sweated so much today. This dirt on me is soon better protection than armor. Not to mention how thirsty I am. It¡¯s annoying and feels stupid, repeating the same scenario in such a short time. Breathing heavily, sprinting the same path. *Wild squealing* just as the sound of metal stops. ¡°God!¡± We witness the true sharpness of his claymore. Apparently, there was a nutria in the grass, and they clashed. It¡¯s a truly unsettling sight as the upper torso, including the paws of a giant rat, flies through the air, cut cleanly with one slash. We don¡¯t watch for more than a second and then sprint to safety.
Mike stops in front of us, catching his breath, bent forward. Pointing his curled index finger, he tries to stop Astrid from launching into a lecture, but he¡¯s not successful. ¡°Michael! What were you thinking?¡± she yells, extremely angry. ¡°You think you can just threaten and underestimate anyone like that?!¡± she continues, snapping her fingers. *Soft Ding* *Woosh! Poof* Chapter 20 - Welcome, Old Friend Pocco appears out of thin air, followed by a cloud of white dust. ¡°Meow, meoow, meow, meooooow!¡± He tries to tell us something as he scurries around us. His fur seems thicker, very clean and healthy, yet he appears semi-transparent, reminding us that there is no physical body present. ¡°Pocco!¡± Astrid shouts with tears in her eyes. She extends her palm, completely forgetting Mike, and pets the fluffy cat. Pocco scurries around Mike¡¯s head, and Mike can barely keep up, spinning in place. Pocco¡¯s fluffy tail passes through Mike''s head on the last circle. I don¡¯t expect anything from the ghostly cat, but he greets me too. Apparently, he is more than sentient and remembers what happened back there. It wasn¡¯t a dream or hallucination. The ghostly animal saved Mike and Astrid and clearly knows I didn¡¯t make it. He circles around me, leaving flickering dust on my shoulders like a halo. Suddenly, he sits on my shoulder and purrs in my face. His head intersects with mine as he gently nuzzles his little nose against my cheek. Then he bows to me, and it somehow feels like an apology. Maybe I¡¯m imagining things, but it does have that vibe. Then, in a flash, he speeds toward the meadow we came from a moment ago. Mike hugs Astrid as she cries. ¡°Pocco,¡± she whispers through her tears. Mere seconds later, he¡¯s back. In a blur of motion, he stops mid-air close to us. The cloud of glowing particles that followed him bursts into a swirling cloud as he halts abruptly. Despite his ghostly appearance, he has some impact on the air, and his white powdery dust lingers. As he comes closer to Astrid, her tears begin to dry. Pocco scratches her hand firmly and precisely about ten times, almost as if he¡¯s trying to communicate. She goes for another pat, and he presses his head against her hands and purrs. *Poof* And he¡¯s gone, leaving only a few white dust particles drifting in the wind. *Snap* *Snap* *Snap* Nothing happens. ¡°Sigh,¡± she lowers her gaze. ¡°You can try later. This wasn¡¯t a one-time thing. I believe it will work again,¡± Mike comforts her. ¡°Just a guess, but apparently you have the ability to summon him, by snapping your fingers,¡± I note. ¡°Brutal! Is this my blood?¡± Mike leans closer to examine and sniff me curiously while I talk. ¡°So, you¡¯re missing a toe? Am I right?¡± ¡°Yep.¡± ¡°What if it goes further?¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°Hands, arms, legs... Remember the guy who vaporized you?¡± I try to be rational. ¡°You know, I did some calculations, and we can function without toes, maybe even fingers. Even without a dominant arm. That means we can die about 10 to 17 times. After that, we could go up to 28 before being completely immobile.¡± ¡°Take it with a grain of salt, of course; it''s just speculation. We don¡¯t know if it goes by the joints or the whole limbs afterward.¡± I speculate. ¡°He''s right. We¡¯re immortal, but with penalties,¡± Astrid adds. Mike apparently doesn¡¯t like it. He nods, but I can see in his eyes that he¡¯s bothered whenever Astrid even slightly expresses any appreciation toward me. Nothing good can come out of this. ¡°The dusk is just an hour away, and my throat feels like I¡¯m biting a dry towel,¡± I complain. ¡°Don¡¯t even say that out loud. I feel uncomfortable just imagining it,¡± frowns Astrid. ¡°The stream is this way.¡± She points northwest from the fire bowl. At least that¡¯s what I call it. If the nutria field is east and the hole we crawled from on the first day is west...
We walk carefully and a bit slowly due to exhaustion for a few dozen minutes. The forest grows darker and more foreboding. Despite being with others, I feel a bit frightened. I can¡¯t imagine being here all alone. The trees are crooked and deformed, giving off a bad vibe. ¡°No way, this again?! I swear I¡¯ve seen this stick already!¡± Mike starts to get angry. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.¡°You think we¡¯re walking in circles?¡± I ask. ¡°What about the sound of the water?¡± Astrid stops and spins around. ¡°I don¡¯t know; this is so strange. I can¡¯t tell which direction it¡¯s coming from anymore.¡± She starts to show signs of desperation. ¡°I have a bad feeling about this. It¡¯s getting dark way too soon. My suggestion is that we go in one direction as straight as possible for a few minutes and mark our way.¡± ¡°If we try four different directions, at least one of them has to lead us out or bring us back to where we started. There¡¯s no way all of them would keep us trapped here,¡± I propose.
It wasn''t long before we hit the jackpot. ¡°Yes! Yes! It¡¯s the water!¡± The sudden noise becomes clear and distinct. Mike sprints toward it and kneels right by the river. I plunge in and try to clean myself and my clothes as thoroughly and quickly as possible. After the taste and sniff test I start gulping the water like a hippo. I almost overfill myself, nearly making me puke. Astrid washes her hair thoroughly, melting away the dried monkey dung and Mike''s blood. I wonder what must be running through her head now. Completely soaked and wet, I quickly despise the idea of sleeping here. Not only does this area make me feel so uneasy, especially in the dark, but the cold breeze while being soaked and physically exhausted will lead to the inevitable flu. I hate getting sick when I¡¯m cozy in my bed at home. Not to mention being tucked in a pack of leaves like a rat, all wet, cold and afraid. The cold water easily washes the blood from our clothes and my hair. After refilling our bottles, we agree on a quick return before it¡¯s completely dark. ¡°At least we know some directions. Going up or down the stream is off the table, just like crossing it,¡± I reason, trying to ease the tension as darkness falls faster than expected, making it clear we won''t reach our destination before it''s pitch black. We stick together and jog. Almost complete darkness is broken only by occasional patches of moonlight as fast-moving clouds sweep across the sky. The shadows make the trees and bushes look even more menacing, but we push on.
A heartwarming feeling spreads through me as I spot the yellow dot in the distance¡ªthe eternal firepit. We stand close to it, facing outward to dry our clothes as quickly as possible. Mike, who didn¡¯t need to soak himself, stands nearby, chatting closely with Astrid. I fumble through the pile of leaves I slept in the previous night, making sure there are no uninvited guests like hedgehogs or mice. Finding it clear, I tuck myself in comfortably, enjoying the slight heat from the fire as I try to summarize my day. It ended up well enough¡ªstill a bit hungry, but thirst is a far worse feeling. Clean, warm, and safe¡ªthat¡¯s what matters most to me now.
The night passes in what feels like the blink of an eye. I must have had some mixed, enticing dreams because I wake up with a slightly worried expression. But as soon as I sit up and support myself with my hands, everything fades away. The bright, sunny day combined with a fresh morning breeze works wonders on my mood. ¡°Guys, are you awake?¡± I ask, half-whispering as I turn to the couple. ¡°Yeah,¡± Mike answers. ¡°I feel like that night was just one long second, yet I¡¯m full of energy.¡± ¡°Morning, Mark. Same here,¡± Astrid says, glancing at Mike, who nods in agreement. I take a deep breath in and out before jumping to my feet. Grabbing my bottle, I nearly chug the entire thing. ¡°What¡¯s the plan for today?¡± I ask eagerly, holding up my half-empty bottle as a hint that we need a refill. ¡°Food and water. And we shouldn¡¯t waste any time,¡± Mike agrees with me. ¡°I want to believe that the dark, haunting forest will feel less unsettling now that it¡¯s morning,¡± suggests Astrid, her eyes glowing with eagerness. ¡°I¡¯ve waited all night for this,¡± she adds with anticipation. *Finger snap* *Poof* Pocco appears instantly in a cloud of dust, floating in midair and locking eyes with Astrid. Her face lights up with joy as she realizes it worked. Leaning closer, she scratches him behind the ears. ¡°Water, Pocco. We need the quickest route to water, please.¡± Pocco immediately turns and starts running up in the air. It almost looks like he¡¯s climbing invisible stairs. He goes above the tree canopies, and we lose track of him. ¡°He understood!¡± Astrid cheers, clapping and jumping a bit in excitement. *Whoosh* Pocco reappears, striding from the dark forest, but more likely coming from the southwest rather than the direction we went yesterday. He stops a few steps in front of us, his tail straight up. He turns around and gazes in the direction he came from. *Meow* *Puff* Then he disappears, leaving behind semi-transparent particles.
We walk through the thick forest filled with bushes for a few minutes, following the direction Pocco was looking at. ¡°You hear that? It¡¯s our river!,¡± Astrid says, stopping for a moment and cupping her hand around her ear. The way is a bit rougher than the one we took yesterday, with thick thorny bushes and nettles. Yet the water is here much sooner than expected. Finally, in better light, I immerse myself in the beauty of a narrow, crystal-clear river filled with pebbles. The path we came from is easily the best illuminated, as the trees are less dense, but the bushes fill the extra space. On the other side of the stream lies the darkest forest I¡¯ve seen so far. The tree canopies are so thick that they prevent any light from entering. Crooked trees look as unwelcoming as they possibly can. Mike jumps right into the water, making a splash and burying his face in. I go for the refill. Astrid stands motionless in the water, her bare feet submerged as she gazes into the distance and darkness. She doesn¡¯t look like she¡¯s relaxing. ¡°Come on, Astrid. Aren¡¯t you thirsty?¡± Mike teases her. I sharpen my focus and peer into the darkness where she¡¯s staring. *A massive chill runs down my spine.* Chapter 21 - Peculiar Snake ¡°What is that?¡± Astrid points her finger at something hanging high on a very tall tree. ¡°Is that a branch?¡± I jog past her, knee-deep in the river, sharpening my sight to assess what I''m looking at. Due to the dimness of the forest, I can only make out the silhouette. ¡°A log, tied to a rope?¡± ¡°Either way, we need to explore and level up,¡± Mike says, making an excuse. He flips his wet black hair back over his head and wades through the river. Astrid and I simply follow, less afraid after all the events that have happened. Nothing can surprise me, I tell myself. ¡°Let¡¯s place a bet. I say¡­ a large snake, maybe dropped by an eagle!¡± I suggest, trying to lighten the mood. ¡°It¡¯s just a tree. Maybe the top got severed by lightning, and that burnt log is left hanging,¡± Mike adds calmly. ¡°I don¡¯t want to play. I think it''s something different,¡± Astrid says. ¡°What do you have in mind?¡± we ask. ¡°Someone hanged himself¡­¡± We fall silent for a few seconds and continue walking closer.
¡°Oh boy,¡± Mike scoffs. ¡°What are we looking at?¡± I ask, tilting my head to the side. ¡°It looks like a corpse indeed, but weird and deformed,¡± I say after a brief analysis in the dim light. Astrid freezes and stops moving. Mike and I continue, loudly describing what we see. ¡°The neck is very long, maybe ten times longer than a normal human neck.¡± ¡°What is this? An animal or an alien?¡± Mike stops, gazing at what seems to be a human torso with a neck as long as the rest of the body. ¡°Listen.¡± I turn back slightly, glancing quickly at Astrid. ¡°One friend of mine once told me a story. His uncle was a firefighter and claimed he heard adults talking about his job. They regularly go and cut down hangmen. But one time, there was this man that nobody was looking for. They found him after WEEKS, and somehow his spine disconnected, so his neck didn¡¯t tear off but instead stretched to almost three times or more its normal length.¡± I whisper to Mike. He seems quite frightened by the look in his eyes, yet he¡¯s trying to handle it. ¡°So what is it?¡± Astrid asks from a distance, taking one step closer. We exchange worried glances. ¡°Astrid, stay where you are,¡± Mike tells her. ¡°She doesn¡¯t need to see this up close,¡± he whispers back to me. As we approach it slowly and steadily, we recognize the same pattern. There are more of them, farther away from the one we¡¯re examining. Those aren¡¯t just peculiar trees in the distance. The dark forest is full of these same figures hanging at various heights. The hangmen. Dead humanoid creatures, possibly real humans, with obscenely long necks. Hanged by someone or by themselves. I look at Mike with a worried expression. ¡°Do we really want to take a closer look at one?¡± he asks, a bit frightened. ¡°What if these things come to life at some point? Taking down humanoid foes... I don¡¯t think I¡¯m ready for that,¡± he admits. ¡°I¡¯m all in for hunting more nutrias and preparing them for lunch, but since we¡¯re this close, it¡¯s hard for me to walk away. We¡¯ll eventually return for more water. It¡¯d be good to know if there¡¯s a threat or not,¡± I explain, hungry for answers¡ªand some roasted nutria meat. My mouth waters just thinking about it. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. ¡°Hey! So what are you two chatting about so much? What is it?¡± Astrid takes a few more steps. Mike turns back to Astrid. ¡°Stay back!¡± But it¡¯s too late. She has already crossed the river quietly, barefoot. ¡°Oh. My. God,¡± she whispers, stunned. ¡°I was right after all.¡± ¡°We¡¯re debating whether to shoot one down or not,¡± Mike explains to her. ¡°We need to know what we¡¯re dealing with. It could be a threat to us sooner or later,¡± I reason.
*Fwoosh!* A curved shot hits the body without making much noise. The figure wobbles for a moment until the momentum stops. *Fwoosh!* The second arrow hits the target, and the corpse falls to the ground with a surprisingly soft thud. By the sound, it seems dry. I feel relieved; this means one thing¡ªit¡¯s been here for a long time, drying out, and is probably harmless. ¡°See, the health bar would¡¯ve appeared by now. It¡¯s safe,¡± I suggest. ¡°Astrid, stay back; we¡¯ll investigate first,¡± Mike says, taking his first steps while drawing his sabre. I follow swiftly, holding my hammer tight. Every step closer reveals more of the gruesome scene. A bald human with a slight stubble in a peasant-like dirty linen shirt. Its eyes are closed, and its hands are tied with a weathered rope. The horrifyingly long neck, almost as long as its torso, is thick and veiny, swirling like a snake. The neck is pale, with the veins prominently visible. I stare at it with morbid curiosity, disgusted yet baffled by the surreal sight in front of us. ¡°Disgusting and horrifying,¡± says Astrid, approaching cautiously with a loaded arrow, gazing at what was once supposed to be a man with visible disgust. I lean a bit closer, grab the nearest stick, and poke it slightly. "Tied hands. This is not a suicide." *The body twitches.* ¡°Aargh!¡± I yell, almost falling back. Astrid reflexively releases her arrow, pinning the body to the ground. Mike doesn¡¯t strike as I expected; he simply observes. *Another twitch.* ¡°Aargh!¡± Now Astrid screams in her pitched voice. *Smack!* I impulsively bash my hammer against its chest, probably breaking some bones. A gurgling, vomiting sound follows as the neck moves snake-like on the ground. The arrow keeps it pinned down. We all step back, avoiding any contact with it. The head drags through the soil, leaves, and exposed roots, scratching itself. The corpse suddenly opens its dead, empty eyes. A long health bar appears above its head with the name Jonathan, level 12. Astrid fires another arrow at the head, but it misses and buries itself deeply in the loose soil. Losing four arrows is a big deal for her. We don¡¯t dare retrieve any, but at this rate, she won¡¯t be able to help much longer. Mike reacts fast, slashing furiously at the neck. His sabre cuts deep, making wide slits in the dried flesh, but no blood or fluid flows from the wounds. The most concerning part is that the health bar doesn¡¯t budge¡ªnot even a fraction. Astrid carefully tracks the writhing creature and takes aim. *Whoosh.* She finally hits the head, pinning it to the ground. The body thrashes like a dying animal, but the health bar remains untouched. I stand ready with my hammer, watching for an opening to land a solid hit. Mike keeps slashing at the neck, trying to sever the head. ¡°This isn¡¯t working! Stop it!¡± Astrid yells. *Crack.* The arrow breaks in half as the head is freed from the pin. *Bang.* My hammer lands with a deep thud, bruising and denting the already sliced neck as I aim for the head but miss. The creature opens its mouth as if trying to scream, but the arrow through its vocal cords makes it difficult. It gurgles and hisses. Mike, trying to decapitate it, finally strikes the deep slit he made earlier but is stopped by the spine. ¡°What the fuck! So they have a spine after all?¡± *Bang.* I slam the exposed spine with all my strength, shattering the vertebrae. The head finally separates from the neck. The full health bar still shines above the body as it tries to stand up headless. Astrid fires another arrow, this time hitting its leg. I bash its kneecaps, and the cracking sound is unsettling. Mike stabs the torso with his sabre, burying it in the ground. ¡°Just die already! What the fuck!¡± he shouts. But there¡¯s no change in the health bar. ¡°Is this some kind of bug with the health bar?¡± I wonder, smashing its elbows to pieces. The creature wobbles but can¡¯t get up due to the broken bones. Yet, even the severed head still seems alive. ¡°What if we chop him into the smallest pieces?¡± Mike suggests. ¡°No need to dull our weapons. I have a better idea,¡± Astrid says. Chapter 22 - Slaughter She raises her gaze. ¡°We should try to burn it!¡± ¡°Heh.¡± I smirk, letting out a small breath through my nose. ¡°Well, when was the last time you made a fire without a lighter?¡± Mike asks skeptically, raising an eyebrow. The creature wobbles and gurgles on the ground. ¡°Upside-down room at the castle? There were candles, maybe they¡¯re still lit. Or we could make it the old-fashioned way,¡± she suggests. ¡°I¡¯m not sure if we should waste time fiddling with sticks, only to probably fail. But on the other hand, I can¡¯t believe it¡ªwe have to go through that damn path again, avoiding that asshole, and pass the shack all the way up.¡± I sigh in disbelief. ¡°Okay, then pin him down more and leave it there,¡± she says with a shrug. ¡°I¡¯m not leaving here without my sabre.¡± Mike frowns. ¡°Ugh. Good thing you mentioned that. I almost forgot.¡± ¡°What?¡± he asks. I open my inventory and quickly pull out the sabre miniature. It¡¯s Mike¡¯s almost brand-new sabre, in the same condition it was when we left the shack. ¡°No way! How did you¡­?¡± He cracks a wide smile, excitement sparking in his eyes. ¡°Apparently, when we die, not only does our corpse stay, but so do our belongings outside the inventory,¡± I explain. ¡°Not that it¡¯s an efficient way to duplicate stuff, but at least it works,¡± I chuckle. ¡°I know I¡¯m getting ahead of myself again, but¡­ what¡¯s the point if we can¡¯t extract anything from these?¡± Mike is nodding as I talk. ¡°I mean, look. If this works and there are tons of them hanging like salamis in some Hungarian basement, we can pin them down one by one and turn them to charcoal. What¡¯s your excuse?¡± ¡°There is none! Let¡¯s go, before it¡¯s dark.¡± Mike is fired up, his eyes fixed not on the swirling creature but on his second curved sword, salivating over the idea of dual-wielding sabres. The body is very dry. It seems like it''s just waiting to be set on fire. I stomp on Jonathan¡¯s head and extract the broken arrow. It¡¯s still repairable; only the feathered tip broke off. The head isn¡¯t going anywhere on its own. It¡¯s quite horrifying to handle, watching its empty eyes move around and its mouth open. I gulp and shudder with sudden unease. Mike holds the moving torso with his second sabre and stands on the neck. He pulls some arrows out but leaves the one that pins the body down the best. ¡°Here, hide these quickly, and let¡¯s move.¡± He hands them to Astrid.
We¡¯re back on the path to the upside-down castle ruin, moving past the hole we came through to this world. ¡°Did we just completely forget our original plan? What if we can get back?¡± Astrid asks. Mike offers his hand to her, and we jump inside all at once. Nothing happens. ¡°As expected,¡± Mike notes. Astrid sighs. As I climb up, I relive the moment I first climbed out at night. The thought of my mom being all alone, probably already on pills and broken, still not knowing she lost her only child, tears me apart inside. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. All things considered, if time works normally, maybe it doesn¡¯t. And if I ever return, it could be the same day. I convince myself it¡¯s like that. I sniffle and wipe away a tear. ¡°Before we rush into the castle, Mike, Astrid, would you like to level up a bit and hunt for our dinner?¡± I suggest a group fight for selfish reasons¡ªI need to unwind and stop thinking about what might be happening at home. When I fight alone, my mind wanders. Mike looks up at the sky thoughtfully. ¡°I could prepare a good dinner from those nutrias if we have fire, of course. They looked fat and bulky.¡± ¡°Yes, exactly,¡± I confirm. ¡°Good, Mikey. You owe us this,¡± says the pale red-headed girl while counting her arrows.
Cropfield Nutrias, mix of level 3 and 4 Arriving back at the field, we start to comb through it, keeping an eye on the shiny helmet. Astrid practices her shooting on moving targets. I break their skulls with my shining hammer, and Mike tests his thrust attacks, making them bleed out. They¡¯re a bit larger than before, yet we¡¯re upgraded too. Mike moves more swiftly, and Astrid¡¯s reload speed and aim have improved. Not sure if it¡¯s due to leveling our stats or classic training, but it¡¯s satisfying. We hunt and slaughter those beasts with a methodical precision.
I breathe heavily, my sleeves stained with blood. Whistling in my chest, my right arm is pumped up, veins bulging, and my forearm strained. Hungry for power, hungry for fatty meat. ¡°So, in total, we killed nine of them. Three each,¡± I summarize. ¡°Everyone leveled up, right?¡± Mike adds. ¡°Can¡¯t believe I¡¯m saying this, but I¡¯m going with endurance this time,¡± I announce, though I¡¯m not sure why. My knee still hurts from nutria, monkey, and turtle bites. Rounding up my level feels great, even if it¡¯s just a small achievement.
Markus Hale foreigner level 10
Strength 12 no skill
Agility 3 no skill
Willpower 4 no skill
Endurance 4 no skill
Astrid mentions willpower again but opts for endurance since the old bow is still straining her fingers. ¡°No, no¡­ this can¡¯t be placebo anymore. My skin is thicker; I can feel it,¡± she mutters under her breath. Mike doesn¡¯t disclose his choice. I wonder what he¡¯s leveling up. His bicep twitches a bit, just like mine did when I invested everything in strength. Is he trying to catch up with me? No, of course not. What do you think of yourself, dummy? He probably just wants to make deeper cuts. ¡°Mark? You with us?¡± Mike asks, raising an eyebrow. Shit, I must¡¯ve zoned out, overthinking again. ¡°I¡¯m a man of my word,¡± says Mike ceremoniously as he buries his blade in the animal. ¡°Don¡¯t watch if you can¡¯t, Astrid,¡± he adds. She moves away from the wind¡¯s direction to avoid the stench of intestines. ¡°We won¡¯t bother you. We¡¯ve done the route twice, so we can do it again. We make a good team sneaking past the knight, right, Mark?¡± Astrid asks cheerfully, chuckling. I keep a poker face, not reacting with any emotion, while watching Mike¡¯s reaction. This is a situation he won¡¯t like. Despite having zero experience in relationships myself, I can sense a bit of jealousy from him, ever since the beginning. ¡°I¡¯ll finish this up. Go and bring the fire. Quickly,¡± he suggests, avoiding eye contact. I nod, even though he¡¯s not looking. ¡°Tighten your laces. Tripping over could be fatal,¡± I warn her again. ¡°Of course,¡± she replies, meeting my gaze.
We make it past the knight without any complications¡ªfast and precisely timed. After a bit of galloping up the rocky road, we¡¯re finally here. ¡°Finally, the peculiar hall,¡± I say. ¡°If the fire is still there, we¡¯ll need a long pole to retrieve it,¡± I suggest. Astrid steps into the bushes on the side of the rocky road and searches for some long, narrow sticks. ¡°I¡¯ll tie them with shoelaces. Give me yours too.¡± Impressed by her idea, I hand them over. In front of the castle entrance, I decide to make a small fireplace next to the stairs, using a few sticks, dry leaves, and some stones to prevent the fire from spreading easily. She finishes her pole just in time and sticks dry weeds on top of it. ¡°You have stronger arms, Markus. Here,¡± she says, handing me the pole. Inside, the hall remains unchanged. Two large candlesticks are still burning on the ceiling in the corners of the room. ¡°You know what? What if these are like the fire bowl¡ªunable to burn?¡± I joke, half-laughing and smirking in disbelief. ¡°Don¡¯t even mention it, or you¡¯ll jinx it.¡± Carefully raising the pole, I touch the fire, hoping for the best. Whoosh The leaves and fuzz catch fire instantly. ¡°Yay!¡± She claps. The burning pole sheds more light on the table and its contents. ¡°What¡¯s that roll over there in the silver pitcher?¡± she asks, pointing her finger. Chapter 23 - Consumables As I hover my torch closer, Astrid stops me with a shout. ¡°No!¡± She grabs my arm, lowering the torch, which is almost three times my height. A few sparks fall from the wobbly top, and the torch nearly slips from my grip. ¡°What?¡± I ask, puzzled. ¡°That¡¯s a scroll. Don¡¯t burn it. It might contain valuable information,¡± she says, her curiosity piqued. Out of all the items on the table, this one seems the most valuable. ¡°Alright,¡± I reply. ¡°Seems like the fuzz burned off, and the wood isn¡¯t dry enough to kindle. Back me up.¡± I start moving backward cautiously, lowering the pole. Astrid backs me up, guiding my steps and, most importantly, the stairs. Once outside, I lower the pole into the fire pit. Astrid crouches near the pit and blows gently, igniting the dried leaves on top and kindling the fire. ¡°Got it on the first try. Good job,¡± she smiles. ¡°Keep the fire going, Astrid. I¡¯ll make some sturdy torches for the way back,¡± I tell her, briefly thinking about how to make one that will last long enough without cloth. ¡°We¡¯ll deal with the scroll later,¡± I add, noticing the curiosity burning in her eyes. I wonder if she¡¯s more curious about whether it contains valuable information or if it¡¯s empty. I find two pieces of wood about the size of a baseball bat. Using my hammer and a sharp stone, I split open the ends and stuff them with dry leaves and grass. That¡¯ll do¡ªtwo torches, one as a backup. My pockets are filled with spare dried leaves and small sticks.
¡°Dammit, girl, you really like fire. Does Mike know this?¡± I ask, shaking my head and laughing. ¡°What?¡± she says, twitching a bit as some flames almost lick her. While I was not far off in the woods on the side of the road, she managed to throw everything into the fire pit. ¡°This will do. Let¡¯s get inside already.¡± She urges. Using the pole, I knock the silver pitcher off the table. It flies off and hits the stone floor, denting one side and deforming the ornamental holder. The old scroll rolls out, followed by some tiny black marbles. Astrid quickly picks up the scroll, ignoring the marbles. ¡°Since when does Mike know so much about cleaning animals and preparing meat?¡± I ask while trying to pry open the door of an old cupboard. ¡°They sometimes visit their distant family who live on the farm. He¡¯s learned a thing or two there.¡± ¡°Right. Good for him. And good for us,¡± I say, maintaining small talk while almost sticking the pole through the hoop on the cupboard door. *Creak* followed by *Clatter* and *Clangs* The cupboard door flies open, and a lot of stuff falls out. Important stuff, but we ignore it for now. Iron plates, pitchers, cups, cutlery, bowls and a candle holder spill out. ¡°Divide this with me. My slots are already full,¡± I explain to Astrid while stuffing all the cutlery into my 16 available slots. ¡°Yes, yes¡­ What is even¡­ I can¡¯t read these extra three lines.¡± She gazes closely at the parchment, turning it sideways and upside down. ¡°Black - hunting, caving, works at Night Palace - inside the walls of Night Palace. Green - any minor wounds - use before sleep for best effect - snails. Desert!#@#$%¡±#&$#$*&)$%(_#@++@_)_(#))*()#&$#&#&#$sert %^@$%)#&$#$&$#&%#&)(@_)+@_#)(@+(%)&#&#$&#$#&$(...¡± She reads aloud everything from the parchment except the garbled parts. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.¡°Wow. Store. This. Carefully.¡± I¡¯m suddenly overwhelmed by the information. It¡¯s not much, but since we¡¯ve been here, we¡¯ve had to learn everything on our own. ¡°Night Palace? How cool does that sound! And hunting and caving?¡± My eyes light up, imagining what that recipe or list is. ¡°Any minor wounds, use before sleep. This must be something for healing. Why snails? Should we eat green snails or what?¡± I wonder aloud. Astrid chuckles. ¡°I think the last part is where to find them¡­ Inside the walls of Night Palace. And the third one starts with ¡®Desert¡¯ and ends with ¡®sert.¡¯ That should be something from the desert,¡± she notes. ¡°Good point, BUT. What green? Leaves, apples, snails, hamburgers? What black? And most importantly, what desert?¡± I keep guessing. ¡°We shouldn¡¯t keep Mikey waiting. Let¡¯s keep moving, Mark. We¡¯ll figure this out later,¡± she reminds me of our true task and heads outside after stuffing her inventory with more dining supplies. ¡°Go ahead. I need to finish something here.¡± There¡¯s one thing I want to deal with, seriously. I can¡¯t leave it here any longer. Raising the pole made of three long sticks tied together with shoelaces, I carefully insert the end, now without a torch, into the hole in the massive chair. Wiggling it carefully, I finally use enough strength to let it loose. The chair slides down the pole. I quickly tilt the pole so the sliding chair won¡¯t smash into my head or arms. It hits the ground with a loud Thud but not hard enough to break. The drop afterward is only from about one-third of the original height. As I move through the remains of the first broken chair, a small pop catches my attention. The silver pitcher, now deformed from the fall, contained more than just a scroll¡ªabout a handful of black matte berries. The closest berries I¡¯ve seen to these were blueberries or elderberries. ¡°Black - hunting, caving, works at Night Palace - inside the walls of Night Palace,¡± I repeat the sentence from the scroll, recalling Astrid¡¯s reading so clearly that it¡¯s etched in my mind. Sniff Nothing special, just smells a bit old. Taking a second whiff, my mind wanders to a place I¡¯ve never been before¡ªan old wooden church in Iceland, weathered by wind and sea air. I exchange the pitcher with all the berries I could collect for one fork, which I store in my left pocket. I flip the massive chair onto its legs and hop in. It feels magnificent. Leather cushion, wide armrests, dark oiled wood, and lots of metal bound all around with decorative rivets. ¡°Hell yeah! This isn¡¯t a chair. This is a throne.¡± ¡°Markus, come on!¡± I hear Astrid calling from outside. I open my inventory, crouch, and grab the massive throne with both hands. I lift it, my face turning red and sweaty, hoping I won¡¯t get a hernia. As the edge of the chair touches the last of the slots I left empty on purpose, suddenly all the weight is gone. My massive throne shrinks to the size of a palm and stores itself as a 3D miniature icon. I quickly remove the shoelaces and disassemble the pole. Running out from the hall, I nearly trip and fall, forgetting my sneakers are super loose without shoelaces, which I¡¯m holding in a tangle in my hand. ¡°Done?¡± asks the fire-loving girl, holding both of the torches I made, burning strong. ¡°Lighting these up was easy, and they seem to burn for a good amount of time. Good job making them,¡± she praises my creations. After re-lacing our sneakers, we get moving.
We made it past the knight without any complications, carefully transporting both burning torches. One of them almost didn¡¯t make it, but it¡¯s still enough to kindle dry leaves. It was really a miracle. Mike waves at us from the edge of the forest. ¡°Come in, I set up camp near the fake fire.¡± In the meantime, he¡¯s really prepared everything. Big chunks of fatty meat are stuck on sharp spits he¡¯s sharpened with his sabre. Large steaks are cooking on flat stones, and there¡¯s a fireplace close to the checkpoint fire. A small pile of firewood¡ªbranches and tinder¡ªsits nearby. I light it instantly by touching it with my torch. ¡°You¡¯re just missing a long beard and a lumberjack shirt,¡± I tease him. ¡°How did you manage to bring it all here so fast?¡± Astrid asks, her eyes brightening with pride. ¡°We have the magic inventory.¡± ¡°Silly me, I keep forgetting about it,¡± she says, opening her inventory and taking out three shiny plates, pitchers, a candlestick with a half-burnt candle, and cutlery. Instinctively, she tries to store the torch inside without thinking twice. It hisses as it goes out. ¡°Oh. It went out.¡± Mike gives her a dumbfounded stare. ¡°Well, at least we learned something new,¡± she says, a little embarrassed. ¡°Speaking of learning, we found a scroll with some consumables and their effects¡ªor at least we think so.¡± Opening my inventory, I surprise Astrid. Taking out the dented pitcher, I tilt it toward her, showing the black berries inside. ¡°How? Where?¡± She opens her eyes wide. ¡°They were in it. I¡¯d really like to try one,¡± I say, kind of asking for permission. ¡°You found them. Your risk.¡± She¡¯s both curious and a bit afraid. I sniff it once more, clean it on the cleanest part of my shirt, and bite into it. ¡°Aaaaaaargh!¡± Chapter 24 - Night Vision ¡°What is it? What! Mark!¡± Astrid yells. I can feel Mike''s hands on my shoulders from behind. ¡°Talk! Dammit! Where does it hurt?¡± she continues. ¡°Sorry. It¡¯s too sweet,¡± I chuckle and look at them, my eyes narrowed. ¡°Really, dude?¡± Mike scoffs. ¡°Sorry, I had to,¡± I reply, not sure if I feel more cringey or entertained. Astrid has a slight smile, and that¡¯s enough for me. She takes out the scroll and starts reading it to Mike. He listens eagerly, his eyes wandering as he absorbs the information. ¡°You thought those berries were the Black ones, right? For hunting and night exploring?¡± ¡°Yes, but I¡¯m not sure anymore. They¡¯re randomly sweet, like blueberries. Doesn¡¯t taste poisonous, and since they were on the table with that scroll... too much of a coincidence.¡± I try to downplay the fact that I mindlessly ate one without considering the consequences. ¡°Anyway, you mentioned the magic inventory,¡± I say proudly, spreading my arms wide. *Fwoosh* A massive throne materializes in front of me, landing with a heavy thud as all four ironbound legs hit the ground. ¡°Okay, gotta admit, this is hilarious and epic. Can I try it?¡± Mike asks, genuinely impressed. ¡°Don¡¯t even ask.¡± I respond, and he hops right in. ¡°Cozy. Makes me feel good and relaxed.¡± ¡°One of the purposes was to test if we could fit even large objects into our inventories. I believe if you can lift it, you can store it,¡± I add. ¡°Astrid, wanna try?¡± Mike asks her. She nods gently with a smirk. He grabs her wrist as she¡¯s too short to jump up onto the throne. ¡°I think the meat¡¯s ready,¡± he says, pinching a bit and tasting it. ¡°Yep, medium rare,¡± he chuckles, serving two plates and handing one to Astrid, who¡¯s still sitting on top. ¡°No, no. It¡¯s Mark''s chair. I¡¯ll get down.¡± She starts to slide forward. ¡°Come on, I can sit on it whenever I want. Enjoy your meal.¡± He arranged a great dinner party¡ªwater from the stream, dried pastry resembling hardtack, and fatty meat. I grab my plate and turn towards the firepit. ¡°Ouch. Damn it. Aargh.¡± I cover my eyes, crouching as dizziness overtakes me. ¡°What? Berry still too sweet?¡± They both chuckle, Astrid sitting on top and Mike leaning on the side close to her. ¡°No, this is for real. I can¡¯t see,¡± I grunt, trying to open my eyes a bit more, wincing from the blinding pain. A quick test shows what hurts the most. I sit on the ground, making a tunnel out of my hands and peering through it. My eyes gradually calm down. Despite being mostly covered, I can see everything sharply and with a blue tint through the small gap between my crossed legs. But even a hint of light makes my eyes water. ¡°Those berries work! But with a delay,¡± I tell them, my eyes still closed. ¡°Explain,¡± Mike says. ¡°I can see perfectly in the dark. Even better than normal in light.¡± Mike stands up. ¡°Here, eat.¡± He slides his plate into my hand and goes for another one. ¡°Thanks. I don¡¯t know how long this will last, but we can¡¯t go into the forest before nightfall. I¡¯m completely useless now.¡± Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. By the time we¡¯re done eating, it¡¯ll be dusk anyway,¡± Mike reassures me. ¡°I don¡¯t feel like going back there. That horrifying image is etched in my brain, but it¡¯s slowly fading. I can stay here, keep the fire going, and take care of your chair,¡± Astrid suggests with a chuckle. ¡°I don¡¯t know...¡± Mike hesitates. ¡°It would be a quick trip for you two. Markus will guide easily. And I can still call Pocco for company.¡±
Astrid is taking small bites, while Mike munches on two pieces of meat at once. I chew slowly, taking deep breaths in between, and think. The meal is delicious. Unseasoned meat, rock-hard pastry, and water¡ªit doesn¡¯t sound like much, but true hunger can make anything taste better. I was worried about eating meat after witnessing all the gore. I¡¯ve never been comfortable with that stuff. But now I feel more numb to it. Is that a good thing? I wonder if Mike and Astrid feel the same, but I don¡¯t start the topic.
We finish filling our bellies and relax for a while. I sit leaning against a nearby tree, facing away from any light. My eyes are closed, and I think I dozed off for a bit. Astrid almost reclines on the massive chair, chilling. That nutria meat was hearty and made us all sleepy. The sun is almost gone when I finally open my eyes, gazing into the distance where we should be heading. Mike warms up his clothes and body, leaning against the bowl of fire instead of the regular firepit to avoid smelling like smoked food. ¡°Works well so far. Just for the test, how many trees can you count starting from this one?¡± I point at the closest tree. ¡°What do you mean, ¡®how many¡¯? I see only one.¡± Mike shakes his head. ¡°Well, I can see far enough that I believe our little river is over there.¡± ¡°Are you kidding me? Toss me one of those berries,¡± he asks. ¡°Mikey, this is unwise. Markus can¡¯t even look at the fire; it¡¯s blinding him. You need both pairs of eyes working in all conditions,¡± Astrid wisely advises. ¡°Speaking of that, I can¡¯t even carry a torch,¡± I add. ¡°Maybe you¡¯re right. Well then.¡± He takes a deep breath. ¡°I really want to try to burn that Jonathan.¡± He adds, staring up at the path Pocco pointed out the day before. Astrid goes near the firepit and ignites one of the torches we used to bring the fire. She hands it to Mike, carefully keeping it away from my face. ¡°It¡¯s okay. When it¡¯s far enough, it¡¯s fine. My eyes have slightly adjusted,¡± I reassure her and take the second torch we used to bring fire. Unsheathing my hammer from the inventory, I wield it in my right hand and the torch in my left. ¡°What¡¯s that for, a spare? Someone¡¯s prepping for battle,¡± Mike teases. ¡°Aren¡¯t we just setting some partly dismembered corpse on fire?¡± He raises an eyebrow. ¡°You never know. And since I¡¯m super light-sensitive, I¡¯m more afraid of getting stunned by even a glimpse of your torch. How long has the effect been on? I lost track of time.¡± ¡°Three to four hours, by my estimate,¡± Astrid thinks. ¡°Give us your water bottle, Astrid. We¡¯ll refill it for you at the stream,¡± I add. ¡°Stay safe, boys,¡± she says, handing me her bottle. I stow it in my inventory, and we head out.
After a few minutes of semi-sprinting, walking, and tending to the fire, we arrive at the venue. The torch has held up well, though Mike had to stop a few times to blow on it and keep it lit. ¡°Gosh. This is horrible.¡± A shiver runs down my spine, and I have to look at Mike. Genuine fear and uneasiness grip me. His presence is the only thing keeping me sane. Seeing clearly through the crooked forest filled with hanging, dysmorphic corpses¡ªprobably all alive in some vegetative zombie state¡ªis overwhelming. Nothing has changed with Jonathan; his head is still on the ground, and his body swirls around the saber. ¡°You or me?¡± I ask. ¡°How bad is the blinding light?¡± he asks. ¡°I¡¯d like to gain some experience points, but I also want to retrieve my second saber without losing it in the flames. The handle had a great wooden grip.¡± ¡°But that means I¡¯d probably take the points,¡± I reason. ¡°You got me that second sword. It¡¯s okay, and if it works... look,¡± he gestures at the whole forest filled with them. I grab the torch and take a few quiet steps closer to the body. Kneeling, I use my hammer for support. Reaching out with the torch, I touch the cloth covering Jonathan¡¯s body. It catches fire immediately. The creature, once a man, starts swirling, tossing, and spinning around the saber. It reacts to the heat. I feel like I should feel some remorse, but I don¡¯t. The health bar finally starts moving down, slowly but surely. A wide smile spreads across my face. As the fire spreads, Mike waits for the right moment. He pulls out his second saber and Astrid¡¯s arrow. The fire consumes the body, which stops struggling. I have to look away as it shines brightly like a bonfire. Facing my back towards the fire, I use my hammer to bonk the creepy head and roll it into the flames. What a fucking cursed croquet. Mike watches it for a few moments and describes what¡¯s happening. The dried carcass moves slower and slower until it¡¯s done. *Ding* ¡°Done, the health bar disappeared.¡± ¡°Yep. I heard it. Apparently, it was enough that I was the one to set it on fire. I wonder what would happen if we did it together?¡± ¡°I was thinking the same. We should try it tomorrow. The more we know about the mechanics, the better,¡± he answers.
We stay there for a while and watch as the flesh is almost completely charred and stops smoking. ¡°I¡¯d love to test with another, but common sense tells me we should head back. And I think my night vision ability is fading.¡± ¡°Why didn¡¯t you say that earlier? It¡¯s literally pitch dark, Mark. You know how crappy it is with a torch.¡± ¡°Do we return here tomorrow to level up on them?¡± I ask him, already knowing the answer. ¡°You bet we do,¡± he smirks. ¡°Now lead the way.¡± Chapter 25 - Unexpected Visitors Walking towards our camp, excited and exhausted at the same time, we shout to Astrid from a distance. The night vision effect has finally worn off. I was afraid I wouldn¡¯t sleep today since, even with my eyelids closed, it felt like they were open. ¡°Astrid, it worked!¡± ¡°Burning that thing called Jonathan worked!¡± Mike shouts, his words jumbling with mine. ¡°It started depleting the health bar¡ª¡± ¡°¡ªwith a short delay, but it worked!¡± We both shout at the same time, our voices overlapping as we jog toward the fire and my huge chair. ¡°I took the kill instead of Mike, though. Gained a full level from just one!¡± I explain, gasping for breath. "Don''t worry about that. I have my two babies now," Mike notes. For a moment, I think he''s talking about Astrid and a weapon, but then I realize he means his two sabers. ¡°I knew it would work.¡± She blinks slowly, looking calm and relaxed. ¡°How did you know that?¡± I ask cheerfully, excited to spend my point soon. ¡°I read it somewhere online, in a religious article. It said the soul is released from the body by burning the remains, releasing the energy. Otherwise, it¡¯s trapped there forever.¡± ¡°I assume we¡¯re rewarded by harnessing or releasing the life force from the foe. I know we didn¡¯t burn the nutria or turtles, but they weren¡¯t humanoid. I was thinking about this while resting here. A lot of speculation. Maybe these humanoid creatures are already dead and reanimated. Or tortured, whatever. We¡¯ll help them.¡± Mike looks like he¡¯s processing all this information. ¡°I never thought of it that way. These long-necked creatures were probably once human¡ªsome villagers or simple folk, indeed,¡± I reply to her eye-opening answer, handing her the bottle of fresh water. ¡°Here, we got you a refill.¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± she says, taking a sip immediately. She offers Mike and me portions of another batch of cooked meat in return. She warmed it and served it on plates, cut into smaller chunks. We take a few bites and store the rest in our inventories. ¡°Was everything safe while we were gone, Astrid?¡± Mike asks, concerned. ¡°I used up all the firewood you prepared, and Pocco kept me company. He scouted the area and calmed me when I heard some noises.¡± ¡°I never had a chance to ask, because of sudden events...¡± I start cautiously. ¡°But when did you get him, and why the name Pocco?¡± ¡°It was a long time ago. He seemed young, sleek, and small when you first met him, but he was almost eleven years old. I don¡¯t remember exactly when, but it was a sunny day, halfway through the two-month holiday. It was a tough day, too hot. It was close to the anniversary of my brother¡¯s death.¡± She looks distant, her eyes getting watery. Before I can say anything, she continues. ¡°He died in a car accident. No one else was involved. But around that day, a year later, someone left a box at our door with a tiny cat in it.¡± I blink slowly, nodding in sympathy. ¡°What was your brother¡¯s name?¡± ¡°Mark.¡± I gulp, feeling uncomfortable for even asking. ¡°Pocco... We used to watch cooking shows, and there was this Italian one. I loved how the chefs would always say ¡®un poco di questo, un poco di quello,¡¯ which means ¡®a little bit of this, a little bit of that,¡¯ while adding spices.¡± ¡°And since he was so small, we adored that name. He stayed small all his life. But now, since he¡¯s a ghost, I think he¡¯s growing.¡± She smiles as she finishes her story. ¡°I never knew about that,¡± Mike says. ¡°Well, you never asked!¡± She replies. ¡°So tomorrow morning, we¡¯re on a quest, right? Let¡¯s call it the ¡®Releasing Souls Quest,¡¯¡± I suggest, steering the conversation to the present. ¡°First, we need to put them down one by one. The easiest solution is arrows, but they could break or get lost. We could try throwing some big rocks or sharpening a javelin,¡± I suggest. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.¡°Those ropes look weathered and weak enough. Not much force is needed to make them go loose,¡± I continue. ¡°I¡¯d definitely love to throw one,¡± Mike adds. ¡°But the most important thing is fire. This one won¡¯t last till morning. Come with me, Mark, and let¡¯s collect more.¡± I nod, finish chewing a small piece of meat, and store the rest in my inventory.
We scavenge a small area around the campfire, collecting enough fallen branches, sticks, and a few small logs. I throw in three big logs covered in moss. They start to sparkle, but the wood isn¡¯t dry enough inside. It starts to hiss. I stick a bunch of small dry sticks in between and around to kindle it more. Mike keeps bringing piles of dry leaves, piling them up near the wood storage. ¡°This will do. If anyone wakes up, just throw something in. If you need more leaves for bedding, take from the pile. There¡¯s plenty,¡± he adds. I gather an armful of leaves for myself. As long as I sleep on them, they compress, and I can feel the uneven, cold ground. Astrid does the same. ¡°So, you¡¯re not sleeping in the chair?¡± Mike chuckles. ¡°Of course not,¡± she smiles. ¡°Mark, you can hide it, just in case of rain or whatever,¡± she suggests. This is the last thing I do before lying down in my makeshift bed. Well, there''s one more thing to do, actually. Enough with the endurance.
Markus Hale foreigner level 11
Strength 13 no skill
Agility 3 no skill
Willpower 4 no skill
Endurance 4 no skill
A pulse of energy makes my muscles go stiff for a brief moment. I close my eyes, hoping for a good night¡¯s sleep despite the uncomfortable conditions and the horrors we¡¯ve seen.
¡°Aargh, no!¡± Astrid wakes up with a slight scream. It startles me awake, slightly scared. I imagined a lot of things, but mostly the longnecks. We must have been sleeping for a few hours because the fire is almost out. Night and darkness still envelop us. I look around and notice that Mike is still asleep, despite Astrid¡¯s scream. ¡°What is it?¡± I whisper to her. ¡°Nightmares, all the corpses, hangmen from the forest,¡± she whispers back. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I¡¯ll fall asleep again,¡± she sighs. ¡°Try to focus on your heartbeat. I know the fire and forest are noisy, but if you focus on your heartbeat, you¡¯ll start hearing your own blood flow. It might sound unpleasant at first, but it always clears my mind and works for me,¡± I advise her, getting up slowly. I carefully place a few more logs into the fire pit, trying not to wake Mike. ¡°I wish Pocco was here,¡± she says, turning onto her back, forcefully closing her eyes. She snaps her fingers, but nothing happens. I lean towards the pile of leaves and sticks, carefully placing them close to Mike and Astrid, hoping the added light will comfort her. They catch quickly and produce warm waves of light. ¡°Better?¡± I ask. ¡°A little,¡± she replies softly, her breathing slowly returning to normal. I tuck myself back in and fall asleep.
¡°Meow.¡± I sleep soundly. ¡°Meow.¡± With my eyes still closed and slowly waking up, I try to figure out if I¡¯m still dreaming or hearing things. ¡°Meow. Mark?¡± Shivers run down my spine. ¡°Did I just hear a young man¡¯s voice?¡± ¡°Mark?¡± I open my eyes in an instant and almost faint. Pocco is looking at me from close proximity. I can see the fireplace through him. ¡°Pocco?¡± I whisper. ¡°Meow.¡± What the..? I swear I could hear someone call my name. ¡°Pocco?¡± I whisper again. "Meow." Thank God. I''m not insane yet. "Pocco why are you here?" ¡°Meow.¡± "What do you want buddy?" ¡°Is Astrid up? Ast..¡± ¡°Mark?¡± I choke with my last word. My eyes are opened widely and I almost faint. ¡°Mark?¡± I can¡¯t comprehend what¡¯s happening. ¡°When dead.¡± He continues struggling to articulate. I start to choke. This is so shocking. I¡¯ve never had such a vivid dream. ¡°Mark?¡± *Hyperventilating* ¡°When dead. Die.¡± *Poof* He disappears in a cloud of dust. My eyes have never been wider. I gasp for breath, open my inventory, take out my water bottle, and take a sip, still shaking. I lay back down with a loud thud, convincing myself it was just a dream. The fire crackles more, and I focus only on my heartbeat. If I ever imagined a talking animal, I never thought it would be so haunting and surreal. Due to the extreme shock, my body feels limp, and I fall asleep or maybe even faint from shock.
I turn onto my right side in my sleep. I can feel a slight warm breeze close to my face. The fire is still crackling, yet I sleep soundly. *A warm breeze blows over my face*, followed by a terrible stench. ¡°Ugh, what the hell. This can¡¯t be my breath, even though I don¡¯t have a toothbrush anymore.¡± I slightly open my eyes, and the first thing I see is a pair of ugly eyes. I wince and move slightly away. Gazing at the thing in front of me, my eyes finally focus. ¡°Jesus fucking Christ! Aaaargh!¡± I yell as loudly as I can while rolling away on the ground. Chapter 26 - The Horde There is an upside-down face watching me with a dead stare from very close proximity. Its mouth is slightly open, revealing half-missing and half-rotten teeth. Its eyes are so lifeless and decomposed that they almost make me vomit. The skin on my back tingles. A rotten stench hits me in the face when the thing exhales again. My sight travels upward, and I recognize the abomination staring at me¡ªor rather, through me. It¡¯s the long-necked creature, a hangman, just like the one we burned a while ago. It stands in front of me, its head lowered almost to the ground between its feet. The neck is unnaturally warped, with the head dangling close to the ground. A few strands of dirty hair sweep through the dried leaves. The neck of this one is as long as its entire body, from toes to the top of its head. Twisted and staring at me, breathing. I¡¯m in such shock that I can¡¯t move. Mike and Astrid wake up when they hear my terrified scream. Astrid starts screaming so loudly that the creature raises its head. It is an oddly terrifying sight. As its massive neck rises, the creature appears even more menacing. It¡¯s twice as tall as the average human, its eyes rolled downwards, gazing at me. Suddenly, I react and start rolling away, completely flattening my ¡°bed.¡± My head spins as I roll away from the creature. Mike''s eyes are wide open as he gasps for breath. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever seen him this scared. He struggles to gather his bearings from inventory and focus on his weapons. One of his sabres falls to the ground while he grabs another. Despite the almost four-meter-tall abomination quietly observing us, we prepare for an attack, so terrified that we can¡¯t perform basic tasks. Still lying on the ground but further from the second unexpected visitor, I roll back and jump to my feet. The creature watches us silently, not making any moves. Mike finally grabs one of his sabres and rushes towards the entity. He stabs it right through its back. I see the sabre piercing through to the other side, facing me. The creature registers what just happened. Suddenly, a large health bar appears above its head, reading Jeremy, Level 13. I grip my hammer tightly. Astrid backs away, maneuvering between the log storage, firebowl, and firepit. Her hands are shaking so much that she can¡¯t load an arrow. Meanwhile, Mike pulls his sabre back from the creature with a downward swing, ripping open a deep wound in its stomach and back. Before he can land a second strike, the creature turns around with unnatural speed and grabs both of Mike''s forearms with its rotting hands. Mike drops to his knees as the thing pushes him down with all its weight. He tries to reach for the second sabre on the ground. Jeremy starts to wind its enormous neck around Mike''s head. Mike struggles to breathe, his muffled screams filled with terror. I can¡¯t tell if it¡¯s from the strangling or the horrifying fact that this thing is touching him. The neck tightens like a snake, with protruding veins all around it. Just the thought of losing Mike now makes my fear turn into rage. I take my chance and raise my hammer. I swing with all the strength I have in my right hand and bash the creature on the nape. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. There¡¯s a loud crack. Without hesitating for even a moment, I repeat the strike in the same spot. My hammer almost buries itself inside. Jeremy emits a horrific scream through its long windpipe and falls to its knees, releasing Mike and unwinding its neck. Gasping for breath, Mike stands up and kicks the creature in the chest. Near the firepit, it falls onto its back, immobile from the complete spinal break caused by my heavy hammer. It lies lifeless. Before long, it catches fire and starts to thrash around. In the very next second, I decide to grab a burning log sticking out from the fire. Astrid screams as the burning abomination is fully engulfed in flames, illuminating the dark forest. Though it tries to move its neck, it can¡¯t; the only movement is the dying twitching of its limbs. The light shining on the surrounding forest reveals dozens of similar creatures walking toward us from the direction of the hangmen forest. They move slowly but steadily. Some are extremely tall, with their heads and necks pointing straight up, their necks longer than their bodies. Others wander with heads dangling near their feet. Some even drag their heads along the ground. One of them holds its head in its hands for support. A few are faster, while others are slower. Not all are heading toward us; some collide with each other or get stopped by low-hanging branches, preventing them from entering further. They seem like mindless beasts, yet some of them look right at us, moving purposefully, as if they¡¯re aware and alive. This is truly a horrific scene. My adrenaline level is through the roof. I consider this the most terrifying moment of my life. Despite my fear, I¡¯ve never felt more focused. Strangely, I¡¯m not just terrified; I¡¯m also excited. I find myself wondering if my life has been so dull that even events like this leave me feeling exhilarated.
Grasping my hammer and torch tightly, I look around. Astrid is running. Mike, with both of his weapons, takes the straightest path, cutting down every bush in his way, clearing a path for Astrid, who follows him. They have no light, using only the moon shining over the field where the nutrias are as their guide. The last thing they saw, illuminated by the bonfire, was a herd of horrific mutants. I decide to go my own way. I need to protect the torch I¡¯m holding. I run at a moderate pace, making sure to keep the flame alive heading towards the forest¡¯s edge, to the meadow with nutrias. I focus on my steps and the flame, determined not to let it go out. The torch is in my left hand, the hammer in my right. Being chased in the almost pitch-dark night, with visibility limited to a few trees in the distance, is stressful. My hands feel as cold as ice, despite holding a burning log. The hammer definitely slows me down, but I don¡¯t want to drop it. It feels like my last line of defense. ¡°Don¡¯t misstep, or you¡¯re dead, and the fire will be out,¡± I repeat to myself as I continue running. A slight wind blows in my face, muffling the sounds behind me. Mid-run, I slow down a little and glance back. I wave the torch to illuminate the nearby surroundings. Dark clouds pass, revealing the moon in all its glory. It shines through the trees, shedding light on the events unfolding around me. One of the creatures, a short one with a slightly tilted head, seems faster than the others. It sprints mindlessly, ahead of the rest. I notice that almost none of the health bars are visible above their heads. Have they lost interest, or were they never following us in the first place? I look directly at the short, crooked one¡¯s face. A few seconds pass, and the creature catches my gaze. Our eyes meet, and the thing starts to sprint toward me. ¡°No, no, no¡­ did I make it spot me?¡± ¡°How could I be so stupid? Why did I do that?¡± I scold myself. ¡°This happened all the time at school. The teacher is picking a victim, and I can¡¯t resist peeking, and bam!¡± ¡°Help! A sprinter!¡± That¡¯s all I can manage to shout. I don¡¯t believe I can handle one alone. I keep running, but I can¡¯t resist glancing back at the creature. It¡¯s almost right behind me. I panic and try to run even faster. My fire is almost out. *Bonk* The tip of my sneaker catches on a sturdy tree root sticking out of the ground. The fatal mistake I was trying so hard to avoid. With my face in the mud, I quickly turn around and see the creature about to grab me. I scream and swing my hammer wildly, aiming for whatever is in the way. *Bash* I manage to land a hit on the side of its cheek. The hammer goes through the thin flesh of its cheek and lodges between its lower jawbone. ¡°Fucking hell!¡± I yell, wiggling the hammer. The head attached to the long neck wobbles with my movements. What concerns me is that there¡¯s no health bar or name. The torch lies on the ground, slowly dying out. *Thud* *Thud* Chapter 27 - Sprinters Two arrows hit the creature. One goes through its neck, and the metal tip buries itself in its chest, locking between the bones. Another arrow misses and gets stuck in its abdomen. The head is pinned to its own body. Struggling to pull it out, the veiny neck strains but fails. The shot that went through at close proximity was strong and lucky; it likely went through one of the vertebrae and lodged firmly. An angry scream follows as a pointy sabre pierces the neck and drives into the chest. Now, a health bar appears above the creature with the name Jeffrey - Level 14. They heard my screams despite the wind blowing the other way and the horde of these zombies trampling mindlessly through the forest. After the fast attack, it¡¯s stunned for a brief moment, and I seize my chance. Grabbing my hammer with both hands, I grip the bottom of the hilt over the pommel. A strong pull is enough to rip part of its jaw. Of course, the health bar doesn¡¯t change at all. Mike rushes in and pulls the arrow out of the abdomen. ¡°Quickly, move!¡± he orders, grabbing Astrid by the hand. They turn toward the moon and start running away. I don¡¯t hesitate for a second and grab the torch while it¡¯s still burning, at least a little. I lock my eyes on the closest pile of leaves. Quickly relocating myself while the undead struggles, I stick the torch inside the pile while crouching, blowing on it. It catches fire as the abomination, with its pinned neck, chaotically approaches. I have an idea of grounding it since it can¡¯t balance itself well because of the pinned neck. Swiping my hammer at heel level, I smash its rotting, dried leg. It doesn¡¯t break the bone but causes it to lose balance. I stand up, leaving my hammer on the ground, and kick the creature in what I hope is the best spot to finally make it go down, wishing I was wearing something heavy and sturdy with a metal sole. It finally trips and hits the ground with a thud and a gurgle. The torch burns brightly, and so does the pile of leaves I set on fire. The strong wind helps fan the flames even more. It seems the odds are in my favor. The expanding fire illuminates the area, and I can see everything more clearly. ¡°Great! I still have time.¡± There don¡¯t seem to be any sprinters like Jeff here. I pick up both the hammer and the burning torch, then stick the flame under the creature¡¯s crotch. That¡¯s where the most fabric hangs, and I believe it will catch fire easily. It does, just as I thought. ¡°Mark! Damnit!¡± I hear Mike¡¯s voice echo through the trees. ¡°I¡¯m coming! Everything¡¯s fine!¡± I respond, though they probably can¡¯t hear me over the wind blowing from their direction. Grabbing the torch in my left hand, a wild, broken, and wicked idea sparks in my mind! I love and adore nature, but the temptation is strong. My brain tells me to do it, despite knowing there are other ways. I turn around and head back toward the horde. The wind would probably do the work for me, but I decide to run along the edge and set fire to everything I think will ignite quickly. The forest lights up, and I spot another sprinter. ¡°Good. I¡¯ll take this as a sign. Enough is enough.¡± Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. I throw the torch into the bushes and start sprinting toward the open meadow, where Astrid and Mike await under the moonlight. ¡°What took you so long? Did you lose the torch?!¡± Mike yells, clearly angry as they had to risk coming back. ¡°There was another sprinter following me. Brace yourselves,¡± I say, trying to steer his anger with a warning. *Ding* ¡°What? The first sprinter finished burning?¡± My mind fills with joy. I walk backward, facing the forest as bright orange flames spread. The fires I started are all over in the middle! In the distance, a longnecked figure bursts out of the flames, sprinting toward us. ¡°Now is the time to end this one,¡± I declare to myself and start walking toward the creature. ¡°Stats!¡± I yell out loud!
Markus Hale foreigner level 12
Strength 14 no skill
Agility 3 no skill
Willpower 4 no skill
Endurance 4 no skill
¡°Aargh! Yes!¡± I grunt as I get pumped up. My arms twitch as I raise my hammer over my head. The moon behind, the fire ahead. My mind wanders, imagining epic scenarios. What if I get points for all those that burn too? Tightening my grip once again, I let out a scream as I swing my hammer and land it on the creature''s shoulder with a loud crack. One blow is enough to dislocate its left arm. Pumped and caught in the heat of battle, I swiftly turn, go around it, and smash the spine. Another aggressive, precise hit over the kneecap. *Crack* Why does this feel so satisfying and not gruesome anymore? The creature falls to the ground, and I smash its other knee, cracking it to pieces. The golden hammer reflects the moonlight¡ªmy precious! I stomp on its neck, grasp my hammer with both hands, and smash it right on the forehead. Again, I wish for a heavy boot instead of a feather-light sneaker. The hammerhead buries into the skull, and I rip part of its head off as I furiously pull it out. It feels so light! I swing my hammer with ease and precision. Is this because of the skill points or adrenaline? Do I really get stronger, and I don''t even have to go to the gym?! Turning around, I look at Mike and Astrid. ¡°What were you talking about? I interrupted you.¡± They seem surprised and stunned, maybe even afraid. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I want to continue, or you¡¯ll kill me too,¡± Mike says, half-joking, shaking his head while the almost headless creature writhes on the ground. ¡°But you really didn¡¯t have to drop that torch. How crazy that the fire spread so fast.¡± He notes. ¡°We don¡¯t dare enter that dark forest behind us. It gives off nothing good. We avoided the knight¡¯s direction before. I think you just cut off our only way out, man,¡± Mike reasons. I ignore him. My eyes dart back and forth as I calculate the possibilities. If what I¡¯ve done now even fails, then that one here might work. To lure them there, the dirty job will be done by this one. Then, just a spark is needed. If everything goes according to plan, we get rid of that too, and I could take all of that! And oh boy, that would be great having all of that! Not to mention what these will provide. To the moon! Yeah! ¡°Is he a zombie too?¡± Mike asks Astrid, poking her. ¡°What?" I look at them. "Come on. Let¡¯s create more distance, and I¡¯ll explain my plan.¡± ¡°What are you up to?¡± Astrid asks. ¡°What the hell, Mark?¡± Mike asks, confused. ¡°Come!¡± I encourage them.
Galloping away from the edge to get a better view of the situation, we stop at the road leading to the crossroads where the pervy knight resides. We¡¯re back in the same area. ¡°So, what do you have in mind?¡± Mike asks, putting his arm around Astrid''s shoulder. We watch the forest outline as the fire slowly spreads. The nutria''s meadow is a large, almost rectangular expanse, divided by the crossroads. Behind us, an inaccessible rocky formation behind which I assume is that bamboo area. On the right is the knight and the road that leads around him. On the left is a dark, steep forest so dense we don¡¯t dare enter. It¡¯s weird we never even talked about it. Just a glimpse gives an uneasy feeling. But now¡¯s not the time. As we watch the fire slowly spread over the forest edge in front of us, I notice movement on the right. I watch the silhouettes¡ªjanky, tall, and chaotic. A horde of longnecks is coming through, maybe escaping the fire. The only safe spot to re-enter the forest is slightly to the left, if we¡¯re lucky and the fire hasn¡¯t spread there yet. ¡°There,¡± I point to the far right edge of the fringe. ¡°Longnecks.¡± Mike and Astrid both turn their heads. ¡°I don¡¯t see anything,¡± Mike says, and Astrid squints. Strange. Maybe that one berry still has a slight effect? ¡°They¡¯re coming through. A lot of them.¡± ¡°So?¡± Mike asks. ¡°We gotta pay a visit to an old friend. Maybe even two.¡± ¡°Ahh." "You cunning bastard!¡± Mike says, cracking a smile as his eyes light up with opportunity. Chapter 28 - Good at Least for Something ¡°Pervert Knight doesn¡¯t have any fire. He may be a skilled warrior, but if he could slice all these necks for us, we could burn them and gain the experience, right?¡± I raise my eyebrows, waiting for confirmation. ¡°Or maybe they won¡¯t fight each other at all, and we¡¯ll end up with an even deadlier group on our asses. We should flee while we still can and let things sort themselves out,¡± Astrid says skeptically, looking Mike in the eyes. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right,¡± Mike agrees, though he looks undecided. Dammit. You¡¯ve got to be kidding me. ¡°If this doesn¡¯t work, we can still lure them to the shop,¡± I suggest. ¡°That old jerk could annihilate Mike with a flick of his finger. And he¡¯s definitely not a mindless enemy,¡± I reason. I can¡¯t resist all these points within our reach. I need to convince Mike to help with luring them. Or should I do this alone? This is too risky. One of Mike¡¯s weaknesses is his greed. I need to use this to my advantage, but manipulating someone was never my style. But on the other hand logic tells me to do it, at least for now. What are we supposed to do then? Kill nutrias in secret and level up by tiny bits for ages? Where are we even going to sleep? The whole area is infested. ¡°Listen. I¡¯ll go alone. I might not make it, but you¡¯ll know where to find me,¡± I say. ¡°You¡¯ll wake up in a burning forest full of longnecks,¡± Mike points out. ¡°Whoever goes with me, we split the leftovers for burning,¡± I say, looking at Mike. ¡°How do you know the knight won¡¯t ignore them?¡± Astrid asks, shaking her head. ¡°That¡¯s the neat part. I don¡¯t,¡± I reply, raising my head. ¡°Even if it fails, we can still lure them near the shack. The old man will pulverize them, and maybe we can still burn the leftovers afterward. Imagine all those skill points. I gained one by killing just one!¡± I add while looking at Mike. ¡°Yeah, or it could lead to them teaming up against us,¡± Astrid counters skeptically. ¡°Let¡¯s vote,¡± Mike interrupts, a spark in his eye. ¡°I¡¯m with Markus!¡± Astrid sighs. ¡°Of course, you are.¡± She turns away, shaking her head in disagreement. ¡°Okay, be honest now. That torch¡ªyou lit part of the forest on fire on purpose, didn¡¯t you?¡± she says, looking me in the eye, a bit annoyed. I remain quiet. Mike, ignoring the tension, unsheathes both his sabres and starts to run. Astrid shakes her head and mutters under her breath. A night jog through the crossroads is an easy run. Finally, we don¡¯t focus on stealth but rather make as much noise as possible. Mike waves both sabres in the air. They reflect the moonlight occasionally as the clouds move fast. Silly movements, screams, whistling, and yelling¡ªanything to attract them. ¡°Come on, don¡¯t just stand there. Help me out!¡± he shouts back at us. *Loud whistling and screams.* ¡°Hey! XPs, over here!¡± I shout, waving my hammer. It¡¯s a bit heavy, so I decide to save my stamina for running. I start to whistle too, marching toward the horde. Even Astrid joins in with her high-pitched screams, which attract not only the longnecks but also the knight himself. His shiny helmet reflects the moonlight as he emerges at the crossroads. It seems to be working¡ªthe horde is forming into a more focused line. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. Repeating the same pattern, I try to make eye contact with the fastest longneck. ¡°It¡¯s working!¡± I exclaim. The one with its head and neck pointing straight up seems the fittest of them. It catches my gaze immediately and focuses on me. ¡°What¡¯s working?¡± asks Mike, dancing and jumping around. ¡°We don¡¯t want sprinters to follow us later. Let them clash now!¡± I shout. ¡°Go! Lure the slow ones. I¡¯ll handle this,¡± I order, sending Mike and Astrid to take the main lead of the horde while I maintain eye contact with the tall, fit runner. Constantly shifting between running and looking back at him, my adrenaline levels spike. My movements become more precise. I feel like I can¡¯t fall, entirely focused on my goal, in full control of my legs. I manage to read the label: Jason, Level 15. The creatures are piling up, changing direction, and marching through the meadows toward the crossroads, trampling the tall grass. I¡¯m close enough to the knight to see his health bar and hear him marching. That means I have his attention too. Now. The moment of truth. The knight grunts, and the satisfying sound of his claymore resonates through the area as he unsheathes it from the hook on his back, the metal sliding. I don¡¯t dare get too close to him. Jumping around like a rat, I manage the whole situation successfully. The lured tall Jason is finally within his range. ¡°Come on! Fight!¡± I shout loudly. The knight assesses the mindless beast as a bigger threat than me, switches to an offensive position, and raises his longsword. I jump back and crouch in the tall grass, watching the first contact through the blades of grass. Mike and Astrid have been more than successful, too. The rest of the horde is moving toward the clash. ¡°Here!¡± I stand up for a second to let them know my location. They join me further back, hidden in the tall grass. We observe the scene.
Lecherous Knight, level 31 vs. Jason, level 15 ¡°Oh my god! It¡¯s working!¡± I watch, excited, my heart racing. Jason tries to close the distance with the knight quickly but is brutally interrupted. In its zombie-like state, the mindless beast charges broadly without expecting any heavy resistance. After a heavy slash, the long neck falls to the ground like a snake, and the headless torso continues its momentum toward the knight. He dodges with a powerful sidestep, then performs a nimble turn and stabs his longsword through the fallen remains. *Stab* He manages to stab it using only one arm, wielding that massive claymore. My eyes shine as I witness this glorious event. On the other hand, thrilled with the idea of using this knight in a fight, I¡¯m genuinely glad he never fought us indirectly like that. With this level of skill and these moves, he could annihilate all three of us in seconds. The only person skilled with their weapon, even a bit, is Astrid. Compared to us amateurs, any construction worker could probably swing a hammer better. What brings the most joy is the fact that Jason¡¯s health bar is unchanged. Nor does the knight gain any experience from the fight. He simply does the dirty work for us. I think to myself as I watch the scene, my teeth bared. The knight grunts while he stabs the body on the ground repeatedly, but it doesn¡¯t have much effect. He slashes the ground, dismembering it. The horde is now shaped like an arrow, with the fastest and most agile zombies in the front rows. This triggers the nutrias to start fleeing through the grass. They ignore everything, only moving through. As more zombies approach the knight, one after another, he fearlessly massacres them, cutting off limbs and heads as if they were made of butter. So far, they¡¯re approaching one by one. ¡°What do you say now?¡± I ask, looking excitedly at Mike and Astrid. ¡°Who has the popcorn?¡± I add. ¡°You know we were just lucky, right?¡± Astrid replies, her face pale. ¡°Come on, stop worrying. We¡¯re immortal. Why do you even care so much?¡± Mike says, trying to lighten the mood. Astrid scoffs. We catch our breath and watch the old armored man and his moves.
A slight wind starts blowing toward the moving horde, blowing away the clouds too. The moon is finally free, illuminating the area better. The fire in the forest is still burning, expanding slowly. ¡°They¡¯re following each other. Let¡¯s get moving. By the time we get there, the forest will be empty,¡± I suggest. Tension builds as the knight chops down multiple enemies at once. Body parts fly, necks are sliced to pieces. He spins around with his sword like a helicopter. When there are five of them, one seizes the chance and grabs him from behind, winding its neck around his head. Quickly, the knight pulls a small dagger from his calf holster and stabs the creature, escaping unscathed. ¡°He might seem invincible, but I bet he can¡¯t keep this up forever. The horde seems endless. We¡¯d better start moving away now, as Markus says,¡± Astrid observes.
The sun begins to rise as we reach the far left edge of the forest. Mike takes out his sabres. I grip my hammer, and Astrid slings her quiver over her shoulder, only a few arrows left. We enter the trees, watching for stray zombies and the fire I started. It¡¯s still burning in one spot but not spreading much. Maintaining a distance from our original path, we try to make our way back to the river and cross it. ¡°I¡¯m glad we made it so fast, even with the new route,¡± Astrid notes, taking a few large sips of water. We can clearly see through the trees beyond the river. Not a single hanging corpse, nor even the ropes'' remnants. ¡°Maybe we¡¯re too far from it?¡± I mumble.
After crossing the river, we walk for a few more minutes. I try to steer us right, getting closer to where the hangmen forest should be. The trees here are crooked, with fewer leaves. The sun is up, and God rays shine through the forest canopy. ¡°Not a single one! I can¡¯t believe we drew them all away,¡± Astrid shakes her head. ¡°This strange silence is terrifying,¡± she adds. ¡°Call Pocco. He helped us with the water before; maybe he can help us now,¡± Mike suggests. As Astrid snaps her fingers, a strong wind suddenly rises behind us. It''s so strong we have to cover our eyes as dirt and leaves fly everywhere. *Puff* The cat appears, but his back is arched, and his tail is between his legs. He hisses, meows, and runs off with the wind. Chapter 29 - Hell ¡°Okay, that was scary,¡± Mike notes, raising his sabre. ¡°I''ve never seen him that terrified. This gives me chills." "We¡¯re in some serious danger; I can feel it in my bones,¡± Astrid says while looking around, visibly shaking. I exhale deeply. I haven¡¯t even told them yet that I had an encounter with him. Maybe it was all just a dream; I¡¯m not sure. But that damn cat spoke to me. The wind picks up, blowing even stronger now, but it¡¯s not a refreshing breeze anymore. It carries the smell of cinder and smoke, and a wave of heat slaps my face. With the wind blowing like this, the fire will be on us in mere moments. We can''t die like this! I can''t die like this! The last thing I need is to face a painful death, especially after everything I¡¯ve been through, compressed like in a baler. ¡°Brrr.¡± A shiver runs down my back, and I shake involuntarily. Once again, thoughts of pain, puncturing bones and the pressure flood my mind. I¡¯d rather smash my head with my own hammer or suffocate on purpose by inhaling the smoke. Anything is better than burning alive! I squint toward the direction where the heat is coming from and see an orange ball glowing. It¡¯s already that close? It wasn¡¯t there a moment ago! ¡°Run!¡± Mike stops shielding himself and Astrid with his jacket and grabs her hand. We all bolt deeper into the forest. What the hell was I thinking? There are no XPs in this, and we might even lose access to the river for good. If I don¡¯t end up burning alive, Mike and Astrid will kill me in my sleep for the mess I¡¯ve made.
We run through the trees, desperately trying to escape the heat, heading toward the unknown. I¡¯m a bit ahead of Mike and Astrid. After a short while, I see a slightly open space ahead, with more sunlight filtering through the trees. As we get closer, a huge circular meadow with short, patchy grass and bushes surrounded by trees comes into view. We rush in, and I sprint toward the center. Turning around to survey the surroundings, I spin twice in place, trying to comprehend everything. The fire is spreading wildly and widely, engulfing the forest behind us, with flames licking high into the sky. Thick, heavy black smoke rises aggressively, darkening the sky. Burning branches are starting to fall, but the fire isn¡¯t spreading as quickly on the grassy ground as it is in the trees. This buys us some time to plan our next move. My eyes are full of tears from the heat and smoke. I wipe them with my dirty, crispy sleeve, scratching my face slightly. Spinning around again, I analyze the area, looking for potential threats. What¡¯s that? A pointy black triangle is just visible above the tree canopies opposite the fire. A building? Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. ¡°Guys, look! A building!¡± I yell, pointing upward. Mike and Astrid try to move toward me, but I don¡¯t give them a chance to speak. Without thinking, I decide to cross the open space and head toward the structure. The moment I take my first step, I feel a strong pressure in my ears and chest. Like standing next to a concert speaker, the deep bass vibrating through me. Astrid and Mike drop their weapons, plugging their ears with their fingers. I do the same, while still holding my hammer. The leather handle is touching my face while I use my pinky finger to block one ear. I¡¯m not letting go of the hammer! The sound is unbearable, and I press my fingers into my ears so hard that my fingernails dig into my ear canals. I hate fire. I fear it the most. But was it something else the cat was trying to warn us about? What is all this? The deep vibration is followed by the cracking of branches, which fall from the trees unnaturally fast, as if pulled by invisible ropes. This accelerates the fire¡¯s spread around the meadow, forming a barrier. Trees that weren¡¯t straight begin to topple over quickly and unnaturally. The smoke is thick, rising swiftly and blanketing the sky until I can¡¯t see it anymore. Darkness again. I try to take another step, but my hammer slips from my hand, as if pulled away, or maybe my grip weakened. The hammerhead buries itself halfway into the soil, despite the ground being dry and rock hard. Strange, this is definitely an invisible artificial force. The vibration stops. I look back and see Astrid lying on the ground, her arms and legs twisted unnaturally, pinned down. Mike is kneeling, holding the handle of his sabre on the ground. Is he trying to pull it out? He looks like he¡¯s in pain, his fingers squished against the hard soil. His clothes are so tight they outline his broad shoulders. For a brief moment, I think Astrid is screaming in pain. The thought alone sends shivers down my spine, making me feel cold. But then I realize the screams are coming from the burning, fresh, and moist forest. I focus on Mike again¡ªhe¡¯s shaking. ¡°Mike¡­¡± I try to shout, but I¡¯m interrupted by a weird moment. Sweat from my forehead drips down all at once, leaving my skin dry. My scalp starts to hurt. The hair on the side of my head is being pulled, almost tearing off. I feel pressure on top of my head, aware of every hair follicle. Looking down at the bottom of my shirt, I bow my head to ease the pain in my hair. The dried and heavy part of my shirt is being pulled down next, fitting tightly around me and pressing on my shoulders. My sneakers and sweatpants feel heavy and tight, pulling me down. Arrgh.¡± I¡¯m forced to kneel, unable to take even one step. My sneakers feel as heavy as stones. The pressure is too much to resist. I glance at Mike one last time. He¡¯s already lying on his side next to Astrid, his hand still gripping the sabre. I collapse, face-first into the ground, curling into a fetal position. I use the last of my strength to roll onto my side, avoiding the dirt. My hammer lies in front of me, half-buried in the ground. In its reflection, I watch the heavy smoke clouds move quickly. *Cough, cough.* What the hell? Did I just hear someone coughing right behind me? The sound is old and raspy. I don¡¯t hear any footsteps; the fire is too loud. In the reflection of my hammer, I see movement. My eyes shift to the left, and as the reflection clears, I see dark, tattered robes swing in front of me. *Thud.* A heavy rope falls to the ground. The figure bends down, and I catch a glimpse of its hands¡ªbig, old, wrinkled, and dirty, with long, ugly fingernails gripping the rope tightly. It tries to loop the rope around my neck, sliding it under my head, nearly cutting my ear. As it tightens, I use the last of my strength to wedge my left hand between the rope and my neck, protecting myself from suffocating. The rope tightens instantly, my forearm pressing against my face. I¡¯m being pulled away slowly. My stiff, weighted clothes are the only thing protecting me from the friction. Disoriented, I assume I¡¯m being dragged back the way we came, toward the burning forest. I don¡¯t even panic. Closing my eyes to conserve energy is all I can do. Maybe all the horrors and near-deaths have toughened me up. Maybe this is body shock, the kind I¡¯ve read about online, that keeps you calm in a tight situation? I think about this as I¡¯m dragged away. Passing by Mike and Astrid, I don¡¯t even try to call out to them. They¡¯re just lying there, facing away from me. I¡¯ll probably respawn anyway, but where? In the middle of hell, burning alive again and again. I start to feel hopeless and begin to hyperventilate. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s more painful¡ªthe scraping of my skin against the ground or the heat growing closer and more intense. Am I being executed? The heat is unbearable. Suddenly, the dragging stops. Chapter 30 - Perfect Timing ¡°Apparently, this won¡¯t be a fair duel,¡± I think to myself. The ropes? They¡¯re the same as the ones the longnecks were hanged by. Is he going to hang me too? What if I never die and become one of his puppets? A shiver runs down my back. It¡¯s horrendous, but I fear burning alive much more. If I have to die like that, I need to end it myself beforehand. But could I even do it? Could I take deep breaths of smoke and kill myself that way? Wouldn¡¯t my own body refuse? I refuse to even think about experiencing that. Maybe the enemy will kill me in a different way. A less painful one. I try to comfort myself. "Please, just not the fire." I whisper with my eyes closed. *Fwoosh* *Thud* I see the outline of a forest in flames as I¡¯m hurled dozens of meters. The enemy tosses me to the edge of the fire, right into the charred bushes, lying face-up. Smoke, sparks, and burning particles fill the air. He turns away, and as he leaves, I notice he is incredibly tall, far taller than any human I¡¯ve ever seen or heard of. A huge health bar hovers above his head, shining brightly, but I can¡¯t read the letters¡ªmy eyes are out of focus. Pinned down by some unknown force, I lay motionless. I feel the tremendous heat on my head. I can¡¯t identify it, but it feels like my hair has caught on fire. I open my mouth, and my dried lips crack, tearing off bits of skin. "The time has come." I take the deepest breath I can manage. *Cough, cough.* Again! Inhale! *Cough, cough, cough.* Again! *Cough, cough, cough.* Again! Inhale, I must do it! *I start to choke.* Again! A deep inhale! Come on! I feel it now. Oxygen deprivation. Darkness forms in front of my eyes. Soon, I¡¯m unconscious.
*Ding* My eyes snap open just as I¡¯m about to faint. *Ding* Wait, what?! I regain consciousness instantly. *Ding* Are my senses messing with me? *Ding. Ding.* Two quick notifications ring in my ears, snapping me back to awareness. *Strong exhale* What the hell is going on?! *Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.* What the fuck? Suddenly, I don¡¯t want to suffocate. *Ding. Ding. Ding. Di.. Di.. Di.. Di.. Di.. Di.. Di.. Di.. Di.. Di.. Di.. Di.. Di.. Di.. Di.. Di.. Di.. Di.. Din.. Din.. Di.. Din.. Di.. Din.. Ding.. Ding.. Di.. Di.. Din.. Din.. Din.. Ding.. Ding¡­* The system notification stutters, struggling to handle the sudden load. Suddenly, I feel motivated. Focusing on my goal, I ignore the pain and heat. Still unable to move due to the weight on me, I whisper, ¡°Skills.¡± A display appears in front of me, half-buried in the ground. I can only see my name and half the stats. I can¡¯t raise my left hand, and my right is still pinned near my face, tied by that heavy rope. ¡°Strength. Everything to strength. Please,¡± I whisper, tears in my eyes. *A satisfying drumroll interrupts.* Something stirs over my body, like a horde of insects crawling under my clothes. I feel the urge to move, but I can¡¯t. No, no¡ªit¡¯s under the skin, not the clothes. It¡¯s both pleasant and unpleasant at the same time, like scratching an itch. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Looking down at my thigh, I see muscles and veins bulging through the fabric. My entire body pulses and bubbles. ¡°Aaaargh!¡± Tremendous pain shoots through my arms, legs, and back. My muscles start contracting. The heat is still there, but I ignore it. My body twitches and rolls to the side on its own, my nose scraping against the hardened, dry soil and bushes. I can move my left hand a bit. The burden is slowly lifting. Dehydrated, overheated, sweating, and slightly burned, I shift my weight and roll away from the fire. Muscle cramps seize my body, leaving me feeling like I¡¯m planking on the ground. Clenching my teeth, eyes shut tight, I shake uncontrollably. "Just stop already!" Every second feels like an hour.
It¡¯s done. My muscles finally relax, and I collapse like a bag of liquid tossed on the ground. The pressure eases from my head to my toes. I open my eyes and see dark clouds of smoke and sparks in the air. I try to breathe, but cough instead. My body feels different¡ªheavier, sturdier. I sit up and try to free my locked arm from the rope. As I flex, the rope digs into my neck, cutting my skin instantly. ¡°Tschk.¡± I grunt. Using my left hand, I grab the rope and pull. The strands burst one by one. *Puck!* The rope snaps, and the rough fibers scratch my skin. ¡°Skills!¡± I yell. ¡°Fifty-fucking seven?¡± I almost choke. ¡°Are you kidding me?¡± I wipe my eyes. I can¡¯t comprehend the emotions surging through me, but joy and excitement dominate.
Markus Hale foreigner level 57
Strength 59 no skill
Agility 3 no skill
Willpower 4 no skill
Endurance 4 no skill
¡°Oh. My. God.¡± ¡°Uuuuuuuuffffffffffffffff,¡± I exhale my entire breath shakily. ¡°Concentrate, Mark! You need to test it out before making quick decisions.¡± I jump to my feet and scan my surroundings. A tall, dark figure looms in the distance, heading toward the pinned couple. ¡°Items!" "Gosh, my hammer!¡± Still holding the broken rope, I stash both halves in my inventory. Disoriented, I look at the ground to see where I was dragged. My body feels heavier, and my steps are awkward, as if I¡¯m learning to walk again. Did my newfound strength and weight affect my speed too? I decide to sprint toward my hammer, keeping an eye on the tall figure. He moves slowly but steadily. The chaos of flames is noisy, masking my approach. With each step, I feel more in control. Did this boost affect my speed? Let¡¯s see. I push off with my right leg, a surge of power launching me into the air. For a moment, I feel like a grasshopper, but the jump isn¡¯t high. I fall flat. *Thud* ¡°Ouch!¡± I crash into the ground, face-first in the dirt. Did I just jump uncontrollably? It was higher than I¡¯ve ever jumped! Approaching my hammer, I¡¯m eager to feel its weight. Will it be light? My fingers close around the handle, and I feel¡­ the same weight as before. Not lighter or heavier. I frown in disappointment. What now? Sneak up on the tall figure, or¡­ No, no. That¡¯s not my style. I shake my head. I sprint toward the enemy. My steps are heavy, each footfall thudding against the ground. The soles of my sneakers are so flattened, I feel every bump. I can¡¯t keep my grip steady on the hammer as I close the distance. The figure notices me just as he nears the pinned couple. I stop mid-run, crouching slightly, ready to jump. My thighs and butt burn with effort. *Fwoosh* My sneaker soles flatten as I push off hard. I soar through the air. It feels like flying, but I¡¯m not high enough to clear a human or a car. As I aim to land a hit, the hammer suddenly feels heavier, pulling my hand down. It hurts my wrist and forearm. The pain is unbearable, so I release the hammer. It drops fast, slamming into the ground, burying itself hammerhead deep. I switch tactics, landing both feet on the enemy¡¯s chest, knocking him off balance. It¡¯s a dropkick. I barely notice his name before I crash down. The Exiled One, level 55 He¡¯s tall, nearly a giant, but skinny, with a gray beard, dead fish eyes, and a long, dark robe. That¡¯s all I can make out at a glance. Mike moves in the background. Without his shirt and jacket, he stands and picks up his sabre. The weight effect is fading. Astrid sits up slowly. Mike doesn¡¯t hesitate. He thrusts his sabre at The Exiled One. The blade barely scratches the robe, repelled instantly. The sabre falls, burying itself in the ground. "Seems that while threatened, he can''t control his burden spell on all of us at once!" Mike crashes down again, clutching his wrist. As I watch, I feel a surge of energy as I regain control. Grabbing my hammer, I try again, but the same thing happens. The weight magic forces me to drop it. Mike, now in just his underwear, raises his fists. I chuckle, admiring his persistence. ¡°As you wish.¡± I pull off my shirt and ready a punch. I aim for his abdomen¡ªthe highest I can reach. The Exiled One clenches his left fist, and suddenly, the ground around us stirs. Ash, dirt, grass, and gravel swirl and move. Chapter 31 - Accidental Discovery A shield taller than myself forms in front of me. It has the texture of a dirt road¡ªhard and dry, full of sharp gravel, hardened yellow soil, and dust. My already bruised fist lands on the surface as I try to punch The Exiled One. ¡°Aaargh, fuck!¡± The pain is far worse than I expected, even with my rage fueling me. The spot where my fist hit pushes in slightly, but then it snaps back to its original shape as I pull my hand away. The massive, flexible shield absorbs all the force, its coarse surface scraping my skin. I feel every bone in my hand, a blunt, pulsating pain radiating through it. ¡°Please don¡¯t be broken,¡± I mutter. Michael, caught in his own uncontrollable rage, punches the enemy in the back. It''s a pitiful strike. His punch is so weak that the black robe absorbs almost everything. I can tell by the hopeless expression on Mike''s face. Astrid is sitting, trying to discreetly pull out her bow, but The Exiled One is fully aware of his surroundings. The shield disintegrates instantly, and Astrid is yanked down again, now with even more force. I watch her lips tremble, sweat and tears flying off her face as her head hits the ground hard, the impact so powerful my eyes widen in shock. The Exiled One reaches into his robe, searching for something. I don¡¯t know where to look first. I take a few steps back, all I can manage now, of course without my hammer. ¡°You¡¯ve got to be kidding me!¡± He swiftly pulls out another length of the same heavy rope. *Slash, whip, and slash.* The rope cracks through the air with lightning speed. Astrid¡¯s screams and tears fill the air as Mike endures the relentless flogging on his bare back. He manages to dodge some of the strikes, but the rest come so fast that all he can do is raise his arm to protect his face.Bruises and dark welts form, covering his arm and forearm. ¡°Jesus! After all these strength levels! Why am I so helpless? Think, focus!¡± My mind is in chaos. I stumble over to my half-buried hammer, and in my stress, I check my stats again to make sure I wasn¡¯t just seeing things. Fifty-seven. So why am I still so weak?! Mike somehow manages to roll out of the way and backs off, as far from Astrid as possible. He¡¯s protecting her, making sure The Exiled One doesn¡¯t switch targets. And yet I stand there, helpless, staring at the bronze plate in front of me. I hover my hand over the stats, and as my finger passes over Strength, a dropdown menu appears. ¡°What!?¡± I stop in shock. How could I forget about that beautiful drumroll from before? ¡°Gosh!¡± The menu looks the same, no hints. Zero skills. ¡°Your UX sucks!¡± I yell, looking up at the sky.
Available Skills Boost [Strength boost 10% for a limited time] Boiling Blood [The more enemies you face at once, the stronger your attacks become] INSERT_NAME [Secret bonus: A gift from the maker for the most patient individuals. Create your own skill within the system''s parameters. Approval by the system is required.]
What, what, what? Furious at myself, in pain and fearing for my companions, yet excited as I quickly read through this. The first two options are normal, but the last one is highlighted in green. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. Percentage boosts are always good. But this one seems special. Definitely the third one. But now? How am I supposed to create a skill on the fly? Should I just run away and save myself, leaving them to die? They¡¯ll respawn anyway. A voice in my head tells me. ¡°Shut up, brain! How dare you!¡± I snap at myself. He¡¯d burn them alive or whip them until they lose all the flesh and skin! I exhale. We can still win this. My eyes dart back and forth as I think of possibilities and calculations in a split second. The blood and muscle tissue that surged through me before... If I could focus it manually, direct it, I could be stronger. If I focus it on one part of my body, it might be more than just a 10% boost. Maybe it could even be kept there at will. ¡°I need to imagine something better, more efficient, or even a bit broken compared to those first two skills. Yes, that could do it!¡± *A satisfying drumroll plays.* ¡°Hey, hey, hey!¡± ¡°What is this?¡± Is it reading my mind? ¡°Ah, fuck!¡± Now the INSERT_NAME field flashes. ¡°Ugh. It seems that it¡¯s too late to change my mind.¡± The name doesn¡¯t matter to me. Let¡¯s call it ¡°Focus.¡± I say it out loud. The field fills in with letters. The Focus skill is now engraved next to the Strength stat, with a pleasant green color. I take a deep breath, while comprehending all this. Good. I hope I won¡¯t regret this later. But how do I activate it? With my mind? I wonder. *Focus* I think of the word. "All my strength. Focus it on my right hand." A second later, a burst of energy surges from my core. My heart races as I imagine my blood and muscle tissue shifting to my right hand. It¡¯s not easy. My body twitches all over. Every body part I think of gets a surge of energy. It¡¯s chaotic. Must be my chaotic brain, all the impulses right now. *Deep breath of hot, smoky air.* My right palm. I look at it and picture it in my mind, doing both simultaneously. Such concentration is nearly impossible under these circumstances. "There is nothing else! Only my right hand." I focus on it, staring intensely, my teeth clenched. Hot sweat drips from my forehead. ¡°Just flow already!¡± The energy suddenly stops its chaotic behavior, pulsing to the tips of my fingers. Damn, this itches under the skin. ¡°More!¡± I stare at it, unblinking. My palm turns crimson. The small cuts on my fingers and the heavy bruises on my knuckles swell with blood. Blood flow increases, so much that my arm sweats blood. My body is adapting to the energy. Blood and muscle tissue automatically redistribute from the focal point and I feel movement under my skin, and I¡¯m getting hotter. The heat and pulse spread from my arm to my legs and back. I can only focus for a few seconds; otherwise, the power jumps randomly to other parts of my body. I don¡¯t have much time to figure this out. Time to test it with the hammer.
Nothing has changed with Astrid. She¡¯s still pinned down, crying for Mike. He¡¯s badly beaten. If he survives, these bruises will take forever to heal. I approach my hammer. My pulsating hand grabs the handle and lifts it effortlessly. ¡°Holy smokes!¡± Kids'' toys are heavier than this. Is the burden spell not working? ¡°Hey, sucker! Over here!¡± I shout, knowing I have nothing to lose. The Exiled One ignores me, whipping the ground in front of Mike and stomping on his chest. Is he going to tie him up like he did to me? He seems unwilling to kill us directly. With his size, he could snap our necks like twigs. Why is he doing this?
I stop focusing on my power and let it flow back to my core. The hammer tilts and falls to the ground. ¡°So it does work. My ten percent.¡± I sprint toward the enemy, focusing on his silhouette. Halfway there, a thought flickers. I¡¯m a reasonable person; I plan things. But just that thought is enough to disrupt the skill. I stop abruptly, drop into a crouch, preparing to jump. The hammer gets heavier. I grab it with both hands, lifting it over my head. Heat and pulse fill my thighs and hamstrings. My muscles swell. The leap is pure energy and adrenaline. *Fwoosh* I launch myself into the air. I¡¯m flying, really flying! So high I can jump over a big van! The enemy and Mike look like they are in the palm of my hand. At the peak of my jump, I feel I¡¯ve calculated perfectly. ¡°Focus!¡± ¡°My arms! Both of them! Full power!¡± Blood droplets form on my arms, running down my skin. The hammer feels weightless. Lifting it over my head, I aim at the hooded giant. His shield starts to form, dust and particles swirling around him. Right before impact, he braces against the shield with both hands, screaming in a deep, old man¡¯s voice. *Bang* Chapter 32 - Damage Done Rocks and dirt fly as a vortex of particles bursts from the impact zone. The shield cracks open, and my hammer slams into the man''s wide-open mouth, instantly removing his lower jaw. Shock and excitement jolt through me. I quickly pull back my hammer, my hands coming out of the crack in the shield with the jaw still attached. ¡°Ew. Gross.¡± I quickly shake it off and look at the enemy. His tongue dangles, and it seems that I¡¯ve ripped his neck artery too. In complete shock, he stares at me through the crack in the shield. Blood starts spurting from his face. This whole horrendous scene is quickly shut off in front of my eyes as the shield starts to self-heal, relocating particles to fill in the hole. But not for long. After a few moments, it starts to crumble. Layers of mass it was made of are slowly dripping, thinning the outer layer more and more. The wielder of the shield power is losing his life force with each of his last heartbeats. Every time the blood spurts, the spurt is weaker. I can count his last heartbeats with those squirts. The shield is slowly crumbling. I simply stay there and observe. My morbid curiosity is growing stronger and stronger. Did I just get almost completely used to the gore? Not feeling any pain or nothing at all. Overwhelmed by the tremendous events, the corner of my mouth raises on its own. Small laughs escape my mouth, and I shake a little, then adjust my step to avoid losing my balance and tripping. Mike gazes over the backside of the dying enemy and peeks around the right to check on me. The shield almost completely disintegrates, and he finally sees me, looking directly into my eyes, confused. What is this? Admiration or jealousy? Thoughts flash before my eyes after looking into his. No, it''s fear. What is he thinking? That I¡¯ve lost my mind and he¡¯s next? After a brief look, he notices my sanity. I saved myself from another death. I saved us. This was a pure shot in the dark. Zero chance, yet still, luck was on my side! The Exiled One finally falls on his side, next to the pile of dirt that was providing his magical cover a few moments ago. With his last breath, two notifications follow. Two *Dings*, and a big red progress bar flashes before my eyes with text: Total amount of malevolence has decreased. But the bar is fully filled with red substance. Same as the health bar of that statue that killed me before. Gosh. I need to stop reliving that memory. Now, what¡¯s that look? My eyes land on Mike''s after staring off at the notification. He seems terrified. I look at my arms. Bloody mess. But I still don¡¯t feel any pain. My arms and my weapon are fully covered in blood. But it¡¯s not the blood of the enemy¡ªit¡¯s my own, I realize. I lose my grip right away and let the hammer fall to the ground. My wrists are shaking with occasional twitches. Blood drips from underneath my fingernails. The sensation slowly rises, and all I can feel is the burning pain in the upper part of my body. I¡¯m overheated, and my head spins. It must¡¯ve been the blood loss. As I inhale and exhale deeply, my arms slowly shrink, and the mass shifts towards my lower body, reallocating itself. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.I smell the raw, boiling blood, and the sight of the disfigured, jawless head is not pleasant to look at. Raising my eyes again, I look at Mike. ¡°Cough. You alright?¡± I ask him. He straightens up his bloody, bruised back and looks me in the eye. ¡°You look like shit.¡± ¡°Cough.¡± I grin and lose my breath due to my extremely dry mouth. He then turns immediately to Astrid, who is already standing up and dusting her dirty dress. I feel a slight relief as she seems to be unharmed. Covered in ash, she presses her fingers against her head and does a little massage. She must have hit her head when she got pinned, more than once. Mike jumps close to her, and both of them start to observe and treat each other''s wounds. He touches her hair and tries to dust away the dirt. She observes his bruised back, full of scratches and deep marks from the rope. I decide to collect my weapon, but I must kneel and open my inventory first. The distance from me grabbing the hammer to the panel must be as close as possible. My arms are hanging there freely. I cannot pump them, not even slightly. They are completely strained. That headache, it could make me faint if I lose any more blood. Due to the extreme heat radiating from the smoldering forest, the blood is drying up, and I don¡¯t dare to wipe it or even touch it. I deliberately move closer to the couple and away from the corpse. ¡°God! What I would give for rain right now.¡± I open the conversation lightly. ¡°Dear lord. Markus!¡± Astrid exclaims, looking at me. She leans over, approaching me with a worried expression. She touches my forearm with both hands, pressing slightly, then hisses and releases them. ¡°How can they be so hot? They¡¯re burning!¡± she says. ¡°We need to get you cooled down.¡± ¡°But what about the fires and that tower?¡± I ask worriedly and gulp. ¡°Sssh. We can return here anytime.¡± She takes out her water bottle and pours it over my arms and cracked lips. I feel uncomfortable; Mike is definitely hating the extra care she¡¯s giving. But I can¡¯t hold my water bottle, so I have to accept the help. The dried blood doesn¡¯t come off, and my arms cool only a little. Meanwhile, Mike carefully puts his shirt back on, hissing from the pain. He looks for a way out. ¡°The wind is gone, and so is the smoke. The forest must¡¯ve been dry to burn so fast,¡± he observes, pointing toward a possible exit.
Astrid walks behind me, and Mike walks in front. My arms wave like rags in the wind. As we approach the entrance, I feel the heat radiating from the fire¡¯s remains. Bright orange embers are scattered everywhere. ¡°What if the river dried up?¡± I ask, exhausted. ¡°What if it stopped the fires?¡± Astrid replies, her fiery red hair glowing against the charred backdrop. She keeps moving forward. Mike walks cautiously, and we try to step where he steps. The tension is palpable. They¡¯re eager to ask what happened back there, how I did it all, but they¡¯re holding back. After a few minutes of carefully navigating the glowing embers and ash, I hear the stream. What a relief. ¡°You were right,¡± Mike says, turning to Astrid. The stream protected itself and some of the nearby flora. There¡¯s still green moss and grass, at least a bit. The forest is almost gone, with smoldering remains all around. I rush and kneel in the middle of our small river, against the current, and dip my arms right in. ¡°Oh god,¡± I exhale in relief. The cold water is almost orgasmic. It flows around me, cooling my arms down and finally washing away the blood. I blink slowly, utterly surprised. My forearms and hands are scarred, covered in ugly stretch marks. It must be the skin. Since I went with strength. All in. "Maybe endurance could have prevented this?" I mutter to myself. I have so many questions. They refill their bottles, and Astrid tries to clean up Mike''s wounds on his back. ¡°Ouch. Tssschk.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be a baby, Mikey,¡± she retorts, wiping his wounds with her handkerchief. I open my stats panel, ready to invest my two points into endurance. But I stop. Picking up a small sharp pebble from the riverbed, I press it against the unscarred skin on my arm. I push it in to see how deep it goes before I feel significant pain. I repeat this a few times to remember the feeling. ¡°Stats. All to endurance,¡± I command quietly, then repeat my test with the pebble. It did harden. I knew it! Endurance affects the skin!
Markus Hale foreigner level 59
Strength 59 Focus [Bonus Skill]
Agility 3 no skill
Willpower 4 no skill
Endurance 6 no skill
Astrid and Mike turn their attention to me, waiting for answers. Should I tell them everything that happened? Chapter 33 - A New Toy They¡¯re already suspicious that I''m hiding something. Shit, the more I wait and keep quiet, the more suspicious I look, and the bigger the thing they might imagine just happened. ¡°Er, well. My arms. That''s the damage from overusing my strength. I received a couple of levels during the fight and invested all the points into my strength.¡± ¡°Yeah? Then what¡¯s your level now?¡± Mike asks, boldly and suspiciously. I knew it. I knew it. He just blurted out the question like it was nothing. I hate this unreasonable competitiveness of his. Fuck! I feel the tension and the bad energy radiating from his tone. Astrid remains silent. ¡°Fifty-nine,¡± I answer calmly. Eat it! I think to myself. The tension could be cut with a knife. ¡°Whoa! Good for you.¡± The expression on his face tells me everything. He is hungry for power and jealous for no reason. He doesn¡¯t like me even a bit and resents my success. Or is it all because of Astrid? I¡¯m definitely not talking about the bonus then. He decided, not me! ¡°That¡¯s quite a lot. How?¡± he asks irritably. ¡°Not a hundred percent sure, but it could be the longnecks. They were burning for some time. As we know, only turning them to ash kills them for good. And I started the fire by accident, by dropping the torch.¡± I try to steer everything toward luck, but it seems like it isn¡¯t working as intended. Astrid seems impressed. Not sure why. ¡°Huh. Good for you, then. And the skills?¡± he continues. ¡°That raging, pumped-up monster wasn¡¯t looking natural,¡± he adds. ¡°I was about to tell you. It¡¯s called Focus, and I chose it from the list. It¡¯s supposed to channel my strength to the body part I want it to. But I still need to explore this further. I hope the damage to my arms isn¡¯t irreversible.¡± ¡°It really, really hurts. I¡¯m surprised I can still hold it together now.¡± I decide to play the victim card to shift the attention. ¡°Stop this investigation. Now is not the time,¡± Astrid says, poking Mike¡¯s shoulder. I think of suggesting the next step, but hold back and ask them instead. ¡°So, what¡¯s next?¡± I ask, even though I know what I¡¯d do if I were alone. ¡°Set up camp and rest. Both of you!¡± Astrid orders us with a raised voice. Quite surprised by her reaction, I look at my bruised arms with all the stretch marks and nod.
We gather whatever is usable and set up a small camp near the river. I lay on my back in a pile of mushy leaves and moss, close to the river and far from them. I''m so tired, yet excited. My new ability is like a toy I always wanted when I was a kid. There¡¯s nothing else, just me and my body, and I have plenty of time to explore this newfound power slowly and thoroughly. Stretching my arms above my head, I reach the stream and dip my hands in it, cooling myself and controlling the heat at will. The sound of the stream blocks out everything else, so I whisper and fully test the possibilities of my inventory and skill. ¡°Skills,¡± I whisper, checking my levitating bronze plate. Despite it being nearly nightfall, the plate shines brightly enough to read everything clearly, but it doesn¡¯t illuminate the surroundings. Same as the health bars and names of foes. Strength and the Focus skill are engraved next to it. Me? The weakest and clumsiest of my classmates and friends. In terrible shape, too. Always the last and an easy target for ridicule and bullying. Yet, I feel like I can be a different person here. Nobody knows how I was before. But am I overthinking this? The power within me is unbelievable. I feel it in my stomach. It¡¯s radiating from within in pulses, and I¡¯ve never experienced anything like it. Controlling it should be my priority. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. This is such a warming feeling, such a pleasure. I finally own something. Something valuable and special to me, created by me. My own treasure, hidden within me. Despite all the gore and stuff I¡¯ve dealt with, I¡¯m truly happy now. This source of power is responsible for my sudden brightening of mood. I keep thinking about how my day and night were. What about that cat, Pocco? I¡¯m not sure anymore if it was a dream or reality. He spoke to me! But it was so cryptic. I can¡¯t get that voice out of my head. It¡¯s so unnatural that a cat speaks with the voice of a young man. ¡°When dead. Die.¡± What the fuck was even that? Does he hate me that much, or is this some sort of super insult in the cat world?
A deep inhale and exhale follow the release of my energy. The air is surprisingly clean, the river must have brought in the freshness, balancing out the charcoal smell from the burns. I take a few more breaths and try to focus on channeling the energy exactly where I want it. It''s hard to do, but with relentless practice, it will pay off. My overall strength level is great. I feel a lot stronger than I was before. Maybe as strong as an adult who goes to the gym often. Yet, to achieve higher levels, I can cheat with my Focus skill. I don¡¯t fully understand how it works yet, but I¡¯m at least imagining. Could it endanger my internal organs? I feel the movement under my skin again. But I hold it tight. No more than a few percent is channeled. Slowly through my hamstrings to the calves and finally to the tips of my toes. I feel the warmth wherever the wave of energy reaches its peak. My blood escaped through the weakest spots on my hands when I channeled too much. From under the nails and from the sweat glands. I need to be cautious. Internal burns? Is such a thing even possible? What about my immune system? Can this excess heat kill any infection in me? Why am I not fainting? Does that mean I can withstand more heat now from the environment, or does only my own heat count? So many questions and so little knowledge. Doctors would go crazy testing me if I ever returned. Well, if I return, it¡¯s best to avoid using this skill and medical exams for life. With such a weird flesh-and-blood shifting ability, I¡¯d most likely end up as a guinea pig. Damn it, I should stop and focus on my primary thoughts. This always ends up like this. I wonder and wonder, thought always follows thought, and I end up wasting time philosophizing. Where was I? Back to my arms. Let it flow to the tips of my fingers. The blood flows, and so does my muscle mass shifts towards them. Grotesque and surreal to see. Could I crush a rock in my fist now? Or finally be able to hold my own weight while hanging or even do a pull up? I keep wondering. The cold water flows, numbing my hands. I grab a small, fragile, grainy pebble, and it cracks under the pressure of my fingers. "Shit! Ouch!" The fragments of the rock bury into my palms, and it starts to hurt. I wash it away. Agility. I bet this affects overall movement speed and reaction time. Michael is too proud and jealous to copy my style. I bet he went with agility, as he said. But I really wonder what skills could be associated with it. And the bonus skill? Guess I¡¯ll never know or wield it. Fast movements make me lose my balance, and fear of being brittle gives me anxiety. It isn¡¯t for me. What about that bonus skill that appeared? Why the heck did it unlock for me? Is it there by default? Or because I spent so many points at once? There was a message, but I read it so briefly. What was it? The bonus skill was for the most patient ones or something like that. Maybe that explains why I got it. Because I spent a lot of points all at once? How many was it even? I try to count.
If luck was a stat, then mine must be really high. How in the damn hell is anyone supposed to learn about this skill-holding strategy? This is my advantage over everyone. ¡°Nah. Stop it, brain!¡± What if it¡¯s just speculation? How do I even prove this theory? On me again? I can¡¯t collect fifty-plus levels without upgrading a single stat. But what if I waste the opportunity to unlock another bonus skill for a different stat? Maybe I should patiently watch Astrid or Mike when they get to the desired level to see if they get a bonus, or which skills unlock for them? I¡¯d tell everything to Astrid if we were closer. But Mike? No, he dislikes me even more. *Yawn.* I¡¯m getting more and more tired just thinking about other people. Endurance: withstanding damage. Strength: bashing and smashing. Yes! I feel at home there. I even like how these words look when written. That bashing and smashing requires a strong body. Despite having the energy within me, my shell is brittle¡ªmostly my skin. That pebble test was merely an illusion. Holding my points or investing in endurance should be my priority! We¡¯ll see what fate has in store for me. Then that last stat, ¡°Willpo¡­¡± *Zzzzz* My eyes close on their own, and I fall into a deep sleep out of exhaustion.
I open my eyes at dawn. It¡¯s still quite dark. How long did I sleep? How many days have I even been here? My inner clock tells me it must be about 5 or 6 o¡¯clock in the morning. I stretch my arms above my head and touch the water. It¡¯s freezing. A deep breath confirms the cold morning. I don¡¯t feel any temperature loss at all but my feet¡ªyes, my sneakers are wet. Maybe I can warm them up by channeling my power to them, like I tried before sleep. I concentrate, but I fail. Something is hanging in the air. I had a weird dream that someone was walking around here. I roll over to check on the couple, and I see them together, hugging and sleeping. I roll back and think while watching the sky. Chapter 34 - Damage Done (Through Michaels Eyes) POV Heavy clouds of smoke swirl above. Breathing is harder than ever, but not because of the smoke I inhaled. I¡¯m curious how a non-smoker would handle this. In the end, those few secret cigarettes every few days might come in handy now. Those damn clothes¡ªmy jacket almost makes my chest collapse inward. The less oxygen, the less concentration. My poor girl Astrid, she¡¯s choking from the smoke and compression. I bet she¡¯ll never forget if I just lay here like a coward. I try to get up again. All my muscles twitch and shake. How am I supposed to fight this thing without a weapon? ¡°Aargh.¡± That stings! I can¡¯t pull my damn hand out from under the sabre. Slowly wiggling it out, it scratches my skin and mangles my flesh. But I have to keep this boss as far away from her as possible. It seems Mark isn¡¯t coming back anytime soon. If he¡¯s already dead, a trip back here in these conditions is impossible. I need to excel! I need to prove myself! What if I somehow manage to remove my clothes? An idea sparks. I wriggle like a worm on the ground, collecting dirt and dust all over me again. My sweaty forehead and bare arms attract the dirt, and I feel like I¡¯m getting heavier. After a long struggle, I somehow manage to raise my arms over my head and wiggle out of the jacket and shirt. Yes! I can at least kneel again. I kneel and take off my belt. Why isn¡¯t it tearing off my pants though? The belt is heavy, like it¡¯s made of tungsten. ¡°Hmm.¡± The weightening effect seems to be increasing the density and weight of the materials. My jacket is way stiffer than it should be. I decide to leave my pants on and slowly stand up. Baby steps. All I can manage are extremely slow, exhausting small steps. After a few moments, I see the silhouette. So it begins. All I can use are my fists. I¡¯d rather die trying than be a coward again! ¡°Hey shithead! Over here!¡± ¡°Face me, you fucking skyscraper!¡± *Bam* a heavy rope hits the ground, whipping out chunks of grass with soil still attached. Crap! This one landed too heavily. I can feel it from the vibration in the ground. Right, left, right. He hits the ground on both sides with that heavy oily rope. Is he warming up or just flexing? As he slowly approaches, I prepare to evade. Yes, yes, exactly! I see the pattern. *Dodge. Dodge, and another dodge.* I perfectly dodge all three attacks in a row, even though I¡¯m still slow from the burden of my pants and boots. ¡°Hah, I can do this all day!¡± He continues whipping the ground, but I fail fatally on the fourth hit.
*Bang* "Ah, crap! My arm!" I barely block the strong hit with my forearms. Dammit, three dodges and I lose my sharpness. My mind is fuzzy, everything¡¯s chaotic and black for a moment. Then I recover, but it¡¯s too late, and I take some damage. I slowly feel the pain emerging. He continues immediately after the attack, and I have no chance to react. *Dodge follows dodge.* ¡°No! Fuck!¡± The blackness fills my vision again. The last thing I see is the rope closing in on my face and head. This hit makes me lose my balance, and the weighted pants don¡¯t help. After a fast flash, I see a new perspective. Yep, it¡¯s the ground with dry yellow patches of grass. How do I save her? My girl is barely aware of what¡¯s going on. She¡¯s far from me, deprived of oxygen. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°Aaargh!¡± *Flick* ¡°My back!¡± *Flick, Squelch* ¡°Aargh!¡± I scream from the top of my lungs. I feel that these wounds are deep, not just scratches. Is my damn flesh ripping off? I stop thinking about anything at all. Pain is now the kingdom I live in. I scream, believing it¡¯s better than forcing myself to be quiet. Preparing for the next hit, but it doesn¡¯t come. Suddenly, they stop. ¡°What?¡± *Loud thud*
The weightening suddenly diminishes. Am I dead? My body relaxes in an instant. I turn my head rapidly, and there he is. Up there, mid-air, flying. It feels like time stops. I¡¯m so jealous. He clenches his teeth so hard they could break. I see that spark in his eyes. Did he die and return with new powers? That fast? I gulp. Something odd haunts me for a moment. I notice his arms. Oh boy, this is disgusting. They¡¯re so skinny, like a skeleton. But on the contrary, his lower body is huge. ¡°Pffff.¡± I chuckle. For a second, I find this funny. But now I notice his legs and hamstrings are way too big. Swollen, his pants barely contain the amount of flesh. It should be more comical, seeing him with such a big ass and hamstrings. But it¡¯s just not. More like disfigured. I wonder what the limits of this shape-shifting are. It seems this helped him achieve the leap. Can he transfer this to his arms too?
As I watch him flying, his body starts to deform again. Now in complete reverse and pretty darn fast. The mass fluidly moves to his upper body. Again, it looks swollen. His shirt strains, especially around the biceps, shoulders, and neck. His hands are huge, and his forearms are thick. It seems extreme to me, but in reality, his expanded body parts are maybe the size of an big adult man¡¯s body, maybe a little bigger. Elastic sweatpants are now stretched tightly around his now-skinny legs. Another extreme shift in the blink of an eye. *Bang* He hits the tower shield made of dirt, and it disintegrates for a moment. ¡°What a glorious power!¡± ¡°This should¡¯ve been me! Not him!¡± I clench my teeth. I peek out and check on him. There¡¯s a bloody greybeard with a jaw attached to it on the ground. The blood pond slowly expands in front of his feet. Is the enemy bleeding out or Mark? I freeze for a moment. What is this expression? He looks like a madman. Those eyes are red, filled with flames and hatred. Is he out of his mind? What now? Will he jump on me? He could kill me with one stroke. As I gaze into his eyes, the madness slowly fades, and he seems to become aware of his surroundings. Don¡¯t show him your fear, I tell myself, trying to maintain a poker face. ¡°You look like shit.¡± I turn away immediately and head for Astrid before he offers his help. My back burns like crazy. I can barely walk to her. ¡°You alright?¡± I ask her, gently offering my hand. The moment she notices my condition, she starts to care for me. I take advantage of this and think about strengthening our bond.
She notices the destroyed Mark with his hanging arms and goes to him right away. ¡°Damnit!¡± But looking back at him, I see he¡¯s, as always, closed up in his head. He barely reacts to her questions or even looks at her. His eyes wander into the distance. Is he calculating something again? Those powers. What the heck did he do to get them so suddenly, out of nowhere? Did he cheat or have some hidden item from the merchant? What¡¯s even his level? I wonder and replay the scene in my head.
We returned back and settled a camp near the river. I can¡¯t sleep. My mind is unsettled; he¡¯s hiding something. That expression of his. I nervously and carefully move Astrid¡¯s arm and sit up. Gazing into the distance, I watch Mark as he breathes. He¡¯s asleep, so I carefully get on my feet and leap over the stream. After a few quiet steps, I start to run at full speed and finally make it to the area where we fought. The wounds and scabs on my back shift as I run, making it painful. I straighten my back and try not to move my arms too much. Some blood escapes the wounds and soaks into my dirty black shirt. The moon is huge, intimidating just to look at. It¡¯s way bigger than I¡¯ve ever seen. But it maintains its classic face, so it must be the Earth. No? It shines brightly over the open area. My feet stop at the corpse, and I take a deep breath. Oh boy, this is against my nature. I reach my hand into the dark robe and pat the cold body, searching for anything. Heavy rope and clothes¡ªthat¡¯s all he has. I check for some jewelry. ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± A necklace. *Quick pull* Tearing it off isn¡¯t working at all. ¡°Yikes.¡± I feel the resistance that string has on the cold body, and it makes me shiver. That jawless head with eyes wide open gives me unbelievable creeps, and I have to look around. This will come off only gently. I slowly slide it up and try to pull it over the head. Damn, that head is huge and heavy. I try to lift it with my shoe and quickly pull out the necklace. I back up a few steps toward the tower and lift my hands up to the moon. When the necklace stops dangling, I take a closer look at it. It¡¯s made of metal, a small circle with a tree with a huge wide trunk in the middle. I put it quickly over my head, and the moment it lands on me my back shivers, and pain flares. My body stiffens, feeling sturdier. I quickly take off my shirt, reaching to scratch my back as it suddenly itches. As I run my hands over it, scabs fall, my palms full of them. I open my stats menu and notice a significant change. Chapter 35 - Black Metal My endurance is written in green, and it''s 14. Wait, how? What was it even before? I proceed to take off the necklace. My endurance drops back down to 4, and my back starts to hurt like crazy again. I feel weaker in an instant. So, it adds +10 to my endurance, but my level stays the same. This realization boosts my mood, and I start walking toward the tower confidently. But I can¡¯t let anyone see this. How do I hide it? I put my shirt back on, followed by my black jacket, though it¡¯s missing a sleeve. Running towards the tower, I notice how tall it really is. As I approach, I study its walls, which seem to be made of some kind of black metal. I touch it and run my hands over its surface, which is rough and cold. The tall arch structure that resembles a door is made of the exact same material. I pat all over it and try to push it in. It¡¯s rock solid and doesn¡¯t move. I turn around and see a giant furry thing in front of me, the size of a small bus. ¡°Ugh.¡± I almost choke and freeze for a moment. Is this a bear? Or a dog or wolf? These three are the first things that come to mind. Is it sleeping? I don¡¯t hear any sound of breathing. Standing there, paralyzed. It freaks me out so much I decide to return immediately. Carefully backing away, I start to run once I feel safe. End of Michael''s POV.
Back to Markus. Opening my eyes rapidly, I wake up to the sound of the river. I embrace the calm and pleasant babbling of the brook. I gasp for air and breathe in the cold only through my nostrils. Realizing my hands are still dipped in the water, I slide them out slowly. They¡¯re so numb and cold. Despite lying in an area of ash and cinder, where the dense dark forest stood just a day before, I feel safe and cozy. That dark forest was creepy, but now I raise my head and see a huge radius around me clearly. Any threat could be easily spotted from a distance. I decide to adjust my routine, adding regular power shifting throughout the day to get more used to it. But since my arms are full of stretch marks and bruises, I assume it¡¯ll be best not to overdo it. I let the power slowly flow outward, channeling it first to my healthy calves and feet, making them heat up. My belly and upper torso shrink. My feet and calves slowly inflate and heat up. I try to stop it just at the right time, to avoid damage. All controlled by my mind and will. I let it expand only a little. Fear doesn¡¯t allow me to get near the breakpoint. I¡¯d rather quit than destroy the only body part that helps me move. Turning my head to check on the couple, I see them chatting and slowly getting up. I quickly channel a tiny amount of power to my hands, just to warm them a little. Then I sit. ¡°Hey guys. Just to inform you, I really need to do something about my arms. I won¡¯t be able to fight for a while,¡± I tell them out of nowhere, after clearing my throat. Mike suddenly has this weird expression. Maybe Astrid talked to him, or he thought it through? For a moment, I think he feels guilty. They both look at my arms. ¡°But I¡¯m not saying we shouldn¡¯t check that tower, loot, and return to the battlefield first,¡± I add while watching Mike¡¯s expression again. He keeps his poker face and avoids eye contact with me. ¡°What about your rations? Do you still have enough?¡± asks the caring red-haired girl. ¡°Plenty of meat and a bottle of clean water. Thank you,¡± I answer and take my first step toward the river¡¯s edge. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Since the ¡°incident,¡± I try to maintain my distance from the couple to give them enough space. The last thing I need is to increase the tension. It¡¯s best for me to focus only on myself and my new ability.
They walk in front of me, chit-chatting and laughing. I walk slowly behind, occasionally and very carefully channeling tiny bursts of power into my legs to support me. The corpse of the boss, The Exiled One, still lies on the ground. Mike stops near it while Astrid looks away. He kicks the long coat with his foot to reveal the inner clothing. Patting around the cold corpse, he assumes that it¡¯s loot-free. The torn-off bloody lower jaw on the ground reminds me that I probably forgot to wipe my hammerhead. I open my inventory, taking it out carefully, making sure not to touch anything else besides the wooden handle. ¡°Yuck.¡± A few strong wipes on the dried grass do the trick. But I feel my forearms burn even from these slight movements. So, I turn around once again to embrace the beautiful yet disturbing scenery of a circular meadow, surrounded by tall trees. Half of them are black and burnt to charcoal, while the other half are green, yellow, and orange, with a tall black thin structure emerging at the top. As we approach the tower, I can¡¯t get over how majestic it is. Full black, made of metal? Can¡¯t tell... Or maybe I just can¡¯t believe it. Looks like it was forged from one huge ingot. Mike unsheathes his sabre and says something to Astrid. What the heck? I ask myself. She stops and snaps her fingers. White dust appears out of thin air, and the ghost of a feline materializes. ¡°Go, my little one. Scout the area, please,¡± she humbly asks the tiny creature for a favor. I gaze at the cat, but he ignores me and does what Astrid says. I¡¯m still not sure if it was a dream. I¡¯d totally know from getting close to Pocco. But in this state, I should avoid asking Astrid for a pat. He progressively gains speed and scours a huge circle around the spawning area. Returning happily, he sits calmly on the girl¡¯s shoulder. Before she even tries to pat him, he disappears as quickly as he appeared. I close the distance between us and watch Mike closely. He¡¯s lowered his sabre, but I can see he¡¯s still nervous. A few steps in, we start to get close to the wall of the structure. Indeed, it is metal. I touch it with my right palm and enjoy the cold surface. My hands are so overheated I¡¯m glad I can touch something cold again. Mike goes around quickly to check the situation. What the hell? He acts like he¡¯s been here before. Was that dream not a dream at all? I wonder, but Mike interrupts my thoughts. ¡°Over here, there¡¯s a dead animal. And it¡¯s huge.¡± He pokes it with his sabre and puts it back in his inventory. A giant fox the size of a bus lies on the ground with yellow eyes wide open. It looks dead¡ªmotionless, not breathing. As Astrid approaches it closely, I see how huge it really is, compared to humans. The head of this fox is almost the same size as Astrid. Her hair blends with the beast¡¯s orange fur. It has the same thick rope around its neck that The Exiled One used to whip Mike. ¡°Apparently, this was his pet?¡± notes Astrid. ¡°Or more like his slave?¡± Mike points out. I stay quiet and hover my hand over its head, brushing through the fur. ¡°The holes.¡± ¡°There are three holes with dried blood that poured from them.¡± ¡°No, no. Five holes,¡± I correct myself while observing the carcass. Something or someone has killed it. ¡°Arrows?¡± asks the girl. ¡°What if these are precise wounds from a sword, something like a rapier?¡± suggests Mike, unsheathing his sabre from his inventory again. He aims for one of the holes and twists the sabre inside. This disrupts the dried blood plug, and the blood starts to flow for a while. ¡°Mike! Leave it!¡± Astrid frowns at him. I approach him closely and offer my hand. ¡°May I?¡± I ask coldly. He hands me his sabre, and I continue to dig into the skull. ¡°Seriously?¡± says Astrid. And just at that moment, a small metal piece falls out with a slight stream of blood. I grab the sabre by its blade and return it to Mike, handle first. With my dirty, half-destroyed Nikes, I roll the piece of metal on the ground to clear the blood from it. Picking it up, I raise it to my eyes for a closer look. ¡°Holy crap.¡±
¡°What?¡± he asks. ¡°Am I wrong, or is this a bullet?¡± I roll it between my fingers. ¡°I¡¯m not an expert, but this must be a bullet from a real Earth gun. If we¡¯re not on Earth, then...¡± I pass it to Mike so he can examine it. Astrid stays close, observing over his shoulder. ¡°Nah, this could be anything,¡± he says, tossing it back to me. I catch it and look up, thinking. He proceeds to move closer to the tower, but stops halfway, covering his left eye. ¡°Tssk.¡± ¡°Are you okay?¡± Astrid grabs his hand, checking him closely. ¡°Nah, I¡¯m fine.¡± He approaches the tall door-like silhouette and pushes it inward. Chapter 36 - Inner Conflict The massive door does not react. Solid surface doesn¡¯t move an inch. Mike backs up, and we all gaze up at the door. ¡°Maybe the boss you killed had some sort of key?¡± suggests the caring girl. Meanwhile, I look up and focus my eyes on the facade of the tower. Maybe there are handles, buttons, or hinges? I mumble to myself, but Mike seems a bit off again. He moves closer to the tower once more, extending his arms as if trying to hug the door. ¡°What are you doing, Mikey?¡± Astrid asks. What the hell? My eyes rest on him. ¡°Nothing. I was just trying something.¡± I ignore this weird and extremely suspicious behavior and move around to inspect the tower from different angles. There¡¯s one particular spot above the door that¡¯s way too high for a normal human. But for a tall one? Like the skinny wizard, whose toothpaste use I''ve just halved. I grin, feeling excited, despite having no clue if this will work or not. I pick a random round pebble from the ground and aim precisely at the spot. With one eye closed, I prepare my throw. *Click* The pebble hits the spot, and some sort of metallic brick pushes slightly inward, then returns back after a second. This is enough for me to guess¡ªthere must be more of these. For what else would such a contraption even exist? Since it retracts so fast, I think it must be pressed either for a long time or maybe more of them at the same time. I continue to scan the surface. ¡°There!¡± I point my finger up again. "Hey! You''ve going to solve this all yourself?" Astrid raises her eyebrows and gesticualtes. *Whoosh* I throw my pebble at the second brick. *Click* It does exactly the same as the first one. ¡°Now together?¡± I ask, looking at Mike. Mike looks at the spot and picks up my pebble that bounced back. I go and grab another one and aim. ¡°One, two, three!¡± I count. *Click* *Click* Both buttons go inward and then return back. ¡°I think we need to search for more of these,¡± I suggest. Astrid guesses another spot. ¡°This one? But it¡¯s too high for me.¡± ¡°It might be it,¡± I note. She chooses a medium-sized stone and aims. ¡°Why don¡¯t you try to open it or break it with your new superpower?¡± Mike taunts, and I notice the confusion, hatred but even a guilt in his eyes. ¡°Ssh, stop it!¡± Astrid pulls his hand and whispers something to him. What the heck? What''s he mad at me for now? That I accidentally gained fifty-plus levels and he didn¡¯t? It cost me a lot of pain and trauma. Heck! I was almost burned alive, crushed alive and even tried to commit suicide. God knows how long this had been building up in him.
I''m really fed up with these stupid remarks and outbursts, and I don¡¯t enjoy this company at all. Unstable, unpredictable, and jealous¡ªwhat even is this? He was different just moments ago. Is this some sort of multiple personality disorder or what? I should just leave them both for good. One more! One more moment like this, and I¡¯m gone. But I¡¯ll do it quietly, slipping away while they sleep. What do I really miss here? Protection and company? I¡¯ve never enjoyed any company in my life at all. I managed my whole life alone; I can do it here too! The girl is nice, but I¡¯m constantly afraid that if I even look at her, he¡¯ll pierce me with his eyes. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. That cat is the only useful resource as he scouts the area. But apparently, he hates me too. Last time he spoke to me, he told me to die. So this is it. Tonight, I¡¯m gone! I stop my inner dialogue, realizing they¡¯re done talking and waiting for another throw. I hope they didn¡¯t notice my frown.
¡°One, two, three!¡± Astrid counts. *Click* *Bonk* *Click* Mike throws at the first, I throw at the second, and Astrid accidentally aims for the second too. Our stones collide. This eases the situation a little as we chuckle. Another round, but this time Astrid misses the second brick. ¡°Ahhh, sorry. I¡¯ll do better.¡± She aims more carefully. *Click*, *Click*, *Click*, followed by a *Heavy thud*. "Yayy!" Astrid cheers, trying to ease the invisible tension. I take the first step towards the tower door and push them with my back since my arms are done. Mike steps in and helps to push with his arms. The heavy metal door opens surprisingly easily, revealing a small room with a stairway leading up. It¡¯s empty but fairly illuminated from the top. Mike rushes up the staircase, using his arms to propel himself. Astrid follows him slowly, but I stay to explore the entrance. I believe she¡¯ll stop him from doing anything shady. I touch everything I can in the room. There isn¡¯t much, only the staircase and the door. But I like to investigate thoroughly. I squat and touch the stone floor, checking how it¡¯s made. Simple or advanced masonry? Is it modern? Is cement even discovered here? I wonder, examining the door hinges and lock system, but I can¡¯t crack the logic behind it. As I decide to go up, I hear loud footsteps running down the stairs. Is he done? ¡°Nothing up there, just an empty chest, no weapons, no valuables, no food. A bunch of old papers.¡± He tells me on his way out. Astrid follows and looks at me. I slowly walk up the stairs, cooling my hands by sliding them over the metal armrests. I don¡¯t know why, but I like this tower. It¡¯s dark and quiet. Some might find it depressing or haunting, but I feel cozy here. The walls insulate everything well; no echo, no sound from the outside. It¡¯s neither too cold nor too hot, and there¡¯s no draft at all. I can imagine making this a base. Finally, after a long climb, I enter a tiny circular room. It¡¯s filled with simple dark wooden furniture, one large open empty chest, and a few paper scrolls. Small windows circle the room, making it even better. The vantage point they provide is unmatched. There¡¯s no bed, but I can imagine this is better than anything I ever had. Even home. I look around as if it¡¯s already mine. Oh boy, I wish I¡¯d fallen into that hole alone. I can take care of myself here. This could be my ultimate base. I realize this could be my one-room apartment, a shelter from enemies and weather. My own place for me and my thoughts. And now my thoughts darken. The idea of being alone here, essentially being immortal, is almost ecstatic. I can cultivate my power, hoard food and items. So many thoughts and plans emerge in my head. I can feel I hold my fate tightly in my hands. Now, the ultimate question. Should I get rid of my company and claim this as my house later on? I probably won¡¯t be able to open the door again. I¡¯m already thinking of a contraption to craft for that purpose. I sit on the side of a small cabinet and pick one of the scrolls. Let¡¯s see what you¡¯re hiding. *Empty scroll* What? I exchange it for another. *Empty* Surprised, I pick another one. Empty again. ¡°Maarkus! Come down. Quickly!¡± Astrid yells. ¡°This will wait.¡± I sigh. I take all the scrolls and stash them in my inventory. They fill up all my available slots, which total sixteen. The cutlery I arranged before was possible to stash as a set. ¡°What the hell do they want?¡± I¡¯m leaving them for good. Nothing can change my mind now. It would take a miracle to make me reconsider. I walk slowly down and out, looking back, hoping the massive door won¡¯t close. Mike is standing behind the giant red fox, pointing at the ground and talking to Astrid. ¡°What are they doing?¡± I wonder as I approach them. ¡°Fuck!¡± A shiver runs down my spine.
There are two human bodies lying on the ground, side by side. Fuck, this is disgusting. Didn¡¯t I just plan a minute ago that I wanted to make this my base? Knowing these are in my backyard is haunting. Not knowing if reanimation is a thing here or not doesn¡¯t calm me down at all. One corpse is barefoot, and the other is wearing highly damaged black boots. They both have the exact same black trousers with pockets, military-looking, definitely not from this world. The upper body has a ripped warm shirt, with claw wounds on the neck. As my eyes finally land on their heads, an uneasy feeling emerges. The face is that of a solid man in his 50s, with a few wrinkles and gray, almost white hair on the sides. The exact same face is on the other corpse. They look like copies. ¡°What do you think?¡± Mike looks me in the eye and asks. ¡°Twins or the same guy?¡± I look at the first corpse that is barefoot. It¡¯s missing a pinky toe. ¡°Look at the toe.¡± He bends down to the second corpse and tries to remove the boot from the matching foot. It¡¯s badly chewed up, and the boot material is tangled with the flesh. It doesn¡¯t come off without ripping the foot. ¡°Leave it, Mikey!¡± He stops immediately and stands up, straightening his back. I approach the bodies closely, looking at the missing toe. ¡°My theory: This guy is the same, just like us. And he killed the fox with a gun.¡± ¡°Again with this gun of yours?¡± Mike rolls his eyes. *Gun clicks* ¡°Yes, he¡¯s right.¡± Chapter 37 - One of Us Michael gets his answer from the man who walks slowly out from behind the carcass of the behemoth fox. He points his gun at all three of us. This is not just any guy; he holds it like a professional, hands crossed, supporting the gun. Only the flashlight is missing from underneath. Even though his face is shaded and I can only see the outline, I already know what he looks like from examining those identical corpses. What¡¯s changed is that his chest and stomach look stuffed and buffed. He¡¯s definitely wearing a bulletproof vest. I glance above his head and see a slightly depleted health bar, his level, and a name. What the heck? He¡¯s an NPC? With all that modern gear?! ¡°Harald Nilsson, level 37?¡± Mike asks boldly. I see no fear in Mike¡¯s eyes; he hazards and risks because he¡¯s never known the pain I¡¯ve endured from dying. At least this is the part he¡¯s confident in. His girl, however, is definitely not. Harald steps out of the shadows. The corpses have their eyes closed, so I can finally see his. Pale blue, confident, and sharp. But I also see a hidden pain deep inside when I look long enough. He¡¯s definitely been through a lot. Level 37! We had to deal with so much shit just to reach level 10. ¡°Markus, Michael, Astrid,¡± he speaks with a strong, weathered voice. Probably a smoker, but his tone is warm. He sizes us up and seems to decide, based on the looks on our faces, that we¡¯re not a threat. The moment he makes this decision, his name and health bar disappear, and he holsters his gun in the pistol slot on his belt. I notice he has a few pockets on his tactical jacket. ¡°Are you¡­?¡± I start to ask, but he interrupts me. ¡°Yes. I am.¡± ¡°Did you three come together or meet along the way? Have you met anyone else? Are you the leader?¡± he asks, still keeping his distance behind the fox. ¡°Yes, we came together. Me? No, no. Because of my level, right? It¡¯s a long story, with a lot of luck involved,¡± I answer, trying to sound friendly, wondering what Mike might think about all this. As if he doesn¡¯t have enough on his plate already. ¡°How long have you been here?¡± Harald asks. My eyes wander into the distance. I¡¯m a bit suspicious, but honestly, I feel like an opportunist now. Staying in the tower alone might be good for my mental health in the short term. But having access to an older, presumably skilled gunman is even more intriguing. He¡¯s one of us. Shit. I hope I wasn¡¯t zoning out. Again. ¡°Two, maybe three days? Not sure,¡± Mike answers, turning to Astrid. She starts to think, but I see she¡¯s as lost as the rest of us. ¡°No idea. Time seems to fly differently here. How long have you been here? How did you manage to reach that level?¡± I ask carefully. Still, I can¡¯t be sure he¡¯s entirely trustworthy. But if he wanted to shoot us, he would¡¯ve done it already. Or would he? He takes out a small notebook from one of his pockets and flips through it. ¡°The tunnel opened on July 6th, 2024, at 3:27 PM EST. So¡­ today is July 27th, 2024. If I¡¯m correct, I¡¯ve been here for 21 days, in about two hours.¡± ¡°I killed a few animals, mostly to feed myself, and gained these levels.¡± ¡°Wait, wait¡­ The tunnel?¡± Mike interrupts. ¡°We fell into a pit and woke up a few hours'' walk from there,¡± he says, pointing in the direction of our original spawn point. ¡°A few animals,¡± I joke, pointing with both hands at the giant fox the size of a minibus. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. ¡°If you¡¯ll pardon my language, this fucker got me twice." He points at the fox, his voice rising a bit. "Unprepared and unexpected. I saw the smoke from the watchtower; that¡¯s why I¡¯m here.¡± He moves closer to his own corpses and continues. ¡°To check what¡¯s happening, bury myself, maybe get some revenge on the beast, and find the next watchtower.¡± ¡°So there are more of these towers?¡± I ask curiously. ¡°Yes. I came a long way from that direction,¡± he says, gently pointing with his finger, without moving his arm at all. It¡¯s exactly the opposite direction from where we came. ¡°I have so many questions,¡± I say, and Mike and Astrid nod in agreement. ¡°Same here. But are you okay with a curious company?¡± Astrid asks directly. Looking into his eyes says more than words. He might maintain his poker face, but I can feel he¡¯s as excited to see real humans from Earth as we are. At least Astrid and I. Without any extra words, both parties know we want to fuse. I look at Astrid with an understanding gaze. ¡°Astrid! What are you doing?¡± Mike whispers to her, pinching her dress. I understand his concern. How can you trust a guy who was pointing a loaded gun at you just moments ago? He¡¯s right. But I get why Astrid did this. She¡¯s filled with a rollercoaster of emotions. We thought we were alone, but there are more people like us. And finally, an adult. I eagerly wait for Harald¡¯s response. He thinks for a bit, sizing us up again, but then nods. ¡°Yes, but you can¡¯t slow me down.¡± I completely abandon my plan of staying in the watchtower. My dream of an ultimate survival experience on my own in peace is now pushed further into the future. ¡°We can continue this talk around the fire tonight. I have some work to do around here,¡± Harald informs us, hinting that we shouldn¡¯t be around until he¡¯s finished. He says out loud, ¡°Items,¡± and out of thin air, a small flashlight appears between his fingers. He looks at Astrid and shouts, ¡°Catch! You may find this useful. Take it as a welcome gift and a sign of trust,¡± and throws the flashlight to her. It looks like a military-grade manual hand-pumping flashlight. Then another item materializes in his hands¡ªa small bag with a Velcro cover. He opens it and pulls out what seems to be a foldable shovel. We all know what he¡¯s going to use it for. He starts unbuttoning the shirt on one of his corpses. ¡°You don¡¯t have to watch,¡± he adds. ¡°So, what are we going to do now?¡± I turn to the couple and ask, facing away from Harald. ¡°We need to check on an old friend. Since you¡¯ve had your share, it¡¯s time for us.¡± ¡°Of course.¡± I nod. It¡¯s time for some backtracking.
We walk at a normal pace through the boss field. I hear the couple talking about Harald. Since meeting him, I can feel Mike¡¯s attitude changing. Maybe having another member around eases the atmosphere? It¡¯s hard to tell, but it¡¯s definitely raised our overall morale. Harald radiates confidence and experience due to his age, and the fact that he seems prepared for all of this is intriguing. This will definitely require more conversation. ¡°I think he was a cop,¡± Mike guesses. ¡°Then why isn¡¯t he wearing a cop uniform or any soldier gear?¡± Astrid replies. ¡°Maybe he was a security guard?¡± They continue to argue and then turn to me. I join the conversation with my own thoughts, remembering to avoid overthinking. ¡°His accent sounds North American, not like ours. Maybe he¡¯s just a regular citizen? They have easier access to weapons and gear than we do, don¡¯t you think?¡± ¡°What about that shovel and flashlight? If he¡¯s got a spare for strangers he just met, it¡¯s suspicious,¡± notes Mike. ¡°And that precise date and time? He must have come here intentionally.¡± ¡°Good points,¡± I nod. ¡°Did anyone notice his eyes? Those are the eyes of a sad man,¡± Astrid says softly. ¡°Exactly! I was about to point that out. I bet he wasn¡¯t alone and maybe lost someone? He seemed in a hurry. And the first thing he asked was if we¡¯d met anyone else.¡± I agree with her. ¡°Winner gets dinner. Now focus on the road¡ªyou never know if any of the longnecks are still around,¡± Mike notes, drawing his sabre as we enter the charred woods.
After a few minutes of carefully stepping to avoid damaging our shoes on the ashes and charcoal, we stop caring and rush through. Our boots turn tar black up to the heels. Near the stream, we skew our path more to the south, moving alongside the burnt remains. I don¡¯t jump over the river but boldly run through it, making my shoes wet again. Mike helps Astrid cross the water. I give them some space, staying behind them, practicing my Focus skill on my feet, heating them up to dry my shoes as we go.
Finally, we reach the flaming bowl, or more likely the spawn point or safe spot. It apparently has functions beyond providing slight warmth. As I walk around it, I raise my hand and let it pass through the flame. Silly me, thinking it could improve the condition of my hands. Of course, it has no effect besides warming me a little. ¡°We¡¯re close, very close,¡± says Mike impatiently, rushing to the edge. Astrid tries to catch up to him. As he enters the light that shines through the fringe, he suddenly stops. His right hand touches the nearest tree, and he simply gazes. This event alone makes me both nervous and excited. It¡¯s unusual for him. The same thing happens with Astrid. She stands next to him, gazing at the open fields. This gears me up, and I release a larger-than-normal amount of strength into my legs, making it easier to sprint the remaining distance. ¡°Oh boy.¡± ¡°It¡¯s them?¡± Chapter 38 - For Pocco ¡°Yep. Look at that swirling.¡± ¡°You know how far it is from the nutria field to the crossroads, right? The size of it, and from this distance. How many were in the woods? You got almost fifty levels from burning them. How many are even there?¡± Mike wonders, his eyes burning with anticipation. ¡°Can we burn these?¡± is the second thing he spits out. I had already imagined how much additional experience these could provide, but who will have the honor? Definitely not me. Mike starts to walk. I stay behind, knowing my hands won¡¯t be much help in any combat that might happen.
Bloodthirsty, Mike unsheathes his sabre and quickens his pace. He runs straight to the heap of swirling bodies. Some of them crawl toward him, but he slices them on the ground. As I get closer, I notice that almost every swirling body is already chopped up, missing limbs or heads. Painful mumbling can be heard from the top of the pile, and something shiny sticks out. I stay and gaze up the hill made of mutilated, yet still living, corpses. I can''t decide which was more horrifying: seeing it from a distance, when it looked like a giant swirling blob of flesh, or up close, where it¡¯s full of thick, rather short snakes with human heads and dismembered, twitching bodies. It¡¯s at least three times the height of a human, maybe more. The most surreal part is how the health bars appear and disappear as the faces that point towards us glimpse another prey, turning hostile, only to be forced away by other bodies, making the health bar vanish again and intersect with each other. This is definitely a glitch in the system, or whatever governs this place. The system probably never anticipated such a scenario. Looking at the top of the pile, I realize the shiny part is none other than the infamous Lecherous Knight¡ªstill alive. The blob¡¯s constant movement keeps parts of him¡ªhis armored leg, his arm¡ªsticking out and then sucked back in. He¡¯s trapped in this swirling abomination, probably with broken limbs, unable to climb out. I stand beside Astrid, observing. Morbid curiosity and disgust are equally balanced. If we ever get back to our regular lives with our families, I could easily work as a pathologist, surgeon, or firefighter¡ªor even write a horror book. With nightmarish scenes like this, my imagination got an unwelcome boost. My tolerance for traumatic events and gore has skyrocketed in just a few days. What has it been? Three or four days? Or maybe I¡¯ll end up with PTSD. Enough of this nonsense. ¡°Stop fighting it! You¡¯re wasting energy and dulling your weapon!¡± I yell at Mike, who mindlessly tries to slash the ones escaping the cocoon. Is he doing this to vent his anger, or does he think it will actually help? Watching for a while longer, I appreciate my choice of a blunt weapon over a blade. How could you possibly make a hammer worse? You can''t make it more blunt. It just is what it is: a heavy, indestructible metallic cube. The handle will suffer, of course, but I believe there¡¯s a way to strengthen it. Now, I secretly wish for a modern hammer with a handle made of some high-tech material, like carbon fiber or laminate with a rubber grip. Maybe even flexible, to ease the strain on my wrists. Yes, that will be my next goal: a hammer upgrade. As always, one thought leads to another, and I end up daydreaming at the worst possible time. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. ¡°Whoever ignites the fire will get a ton of experience,¡± I tell them, knowing I¡¯m out of the game. But the idea of doing it myself sparks joy. I imagine investing in endurance now, not just strength. How will it affect my Focus skill? How much thicker will my skin get? Will I become invincible to physical attacks? What about the new skills? So many questions, yet impossible to answer now. I bet Mike is itching to burn it whole. Or will he show his chivalry? I wait impatiently for them to decide but Astrid immediately offers it to him, explaining why he might be the better choice. "No, you need it more." He declines. By the look on Mike¡¯s face, I can tell he genuinely wants to pass this opportunity to Astrid. So, in the end, his chivalry wins over his greed. ¡°What about a split?¡± I suggest. "And how are you going to achieve that?" Asks Mike. ¡°Astrid burns the bottom, and you throw fire on top. I believe you two could time this just right to make it fair.¡± But because of my suggestion, I see the spark in his eyes. He¡¯s eager to level up, to grow, to catch up. ¡°I¡¯ll go get the fire. Astrid, stay away from the blob!¡± He starts walking towards the charred edge. I stand there awkwardly and ask Astrid where she plans to invest her upcoming skill points. ¡°You know, when I was tied up down there, desperate for a death other than burning alive, a miracle happened. Those bodies released their energy around the same time, and I got an insane amount of points. I don''t know if I invested them wisely, under time pressure.¡± She looks surprised by my sudden openness, but I continue as I notice curiosity in her green eyes. ¡°My arm was tied up. I begged the system to invest all my points in strength. At that time, it seemed like the only way out. It responded to my voice and later to my thoughts. So, it¡¯s reading our minds somehow.¡± I decide to share my observation but keep the bonus skill secret to myself. She thanks me for the information, and I warn her to spend her points wisely. ¡°The sheer amount of strength in my body is too much for my outer shell. I believe endurance needs to match that strength. I tested this with a splinter, and you before, with the bow tendon, right?¡± I continue. ¡°I¡¯m still undecided. Curious about what willpower does. I never mentioned this before, but those few points I put in it... I felt something I¡¯ve never felt before. A quick flash, like time slowed down, and I noticed more details around me. That single second of clarity convinced me to experiment with willpower more.¡± As she finishes, we hear Mike coming back. He holds two bright orange glowing sticks. One is bigger, with a split, thicker end. He hands it to Astrid, instructing her to pile dry grass on top and kindle it. She follows his instructions, carefully swirling handfuls of dry stems around the split part of the stick. After a few blows, the thick end bursts into flame. Meanwhile, Mike kicks back moving bodies and body parts that have wandered away from the pile. Occasionally, the mix of grotesque sounds is interrupted by the old man¡¯s screams. The wounded Lecherous Knight gasping for air. ¡°Top or bottom?¡± Mike asks Astrid. She rolls her eyes, thinking for a moment. Her eyes stop at the knight on top. With a poker face and slightly narrowed eyes, she replies simply, ¡°Top.¡± ¡°Give it a good throw,¡± Mike says as she adjusts her stance. *Fwoosh* The torch flies and lands near the center of the pile. We all just stand there, watching. The fire starts to spread slowly. Thick gray smoke rises quickly, like from a chimney. And as the fire takes hold, the dry corpses that catch it first start to move and twitch rapidly, confirming their pain receptors are still active. If they could scream, I¡¯m sure they would. I watch Astrid¡¯s reaction, looking into her eyes. Is she okay with all this? But what¡¯s this? I notice her lips twitch, trying not to smile. Her eyes, though, give her away. They never lie. She¡¯s starting to enjoy this. Why now? I wonder. Are her points already adding up, is she leveling with her thoughts? No, it¡¯s too early; they need to burn for a while for it to count. After a few moments, agonizing screams fill the air, echoing with a range of horrifying tones I never thought a human could produce. It¡¯s like the depths of hell have been unleashed. The knight is being cooked alive in his armor, which serves as a pan. I remember how disgusted and terrified I was in school when I first learned about the medieval torture device, the bronze bull. And here I am, watching something disturbingly similar. *Finger snap* Pocco appears in the air in front of Astrid. She pats him on the head and guides him to sit on her right shoulder. ¡°This is for you.¡± I gape at her, my mouth open in shock. Surprised by the events. Glancing at Mike, I see fear in his eyes. I bet he had no idea what she was capable of. But I justify it, given the extreme gore we¡¯ve been exposed to over the past few days. When the screams finally stop, she touches the cat again, and he disappears into thin air. I don¡¯t dare get too close to him. I still don¡¯t know if it was all a dream or if he really spoke to me. He acts like a normal cat. I see Astrid roll her eyes up to the side, as if she¡¯s hearing something. Chapter 39 - A Night to Remember It was definitely the notification. The Knight was at a high level; she must¡¯ve gained a lot of experience from his death. Her eyes are wandering¡ªcould she be hearing the dinging? I wonder and continue to watch the burning pile, which illuminates the area in a haunting way. Mike is kindling the small fire pit he started nearby and waits impatiently.
We sit in the tall grass, sip water, and watch the blob slowly burn out. When about a third of the top is burned, Mike steps into action and sets the pile on fire at several spots. Burning Astrid''s part took quite some time, and it¡¯s already getting dark. ¡°We can basically return to Harald now. Those points won¡¯t be running away from you,¡± I comfort Mike. ¡°Alright.¡± He nods.
We backtrack to the tower location. I wonder if Astrid is waiting for Mike or if she¡¯s already spent her points. As we approach the tower, I notice a light. ¡°So he didn¡¯t leave us after all,¡± Mike says. I¡¯m surprised he has the same feeling about it. Harald seems more than capable and aware of what he¡¯s doing. Why bother with three newbies? I ask myself, but then I remember¡ªhe saw my level, and of course, he¡¯s looking for company. Not everyone is an extreme introvert like me. He claims he¡¯s been here for a few weeks already, seems that all alone. As we get closer, I notice how tidy the place looks. Despite it being dusk, I can see from a distance that something huge is missing. He managed to remove all the corpses, including the fox. A silhouette of a human sits next to the fireplace, gazing into the flames. There¡¯s quite a large pile of soil and a digging area behind the spot where the fox originally was. Some of the bushes have been cut and used as firewood. The metal facade of the tower reflects the dancing flames. ¡°Hey, Harald.¡± Mike waves at him, dropping a few comments about the changes. Harald sits there holding a modern combat knife with a ribbed edge, a cube of roasted meat speared on the tip. He gives us a neutral look and continues chewing. ¡°Where¡¯s the fox?¡± I ask. He cracks a smile and nods at the cube of meat. Astrid raises her eyebrows in surprise and takes out her water bottle. ¡°Do you want to trade water with us?¡± Harald swiftly pulls out a pair of military water bottles from his inventory. ¡°Thank you, I have my own,¡± he says, standing up and turning to the empty space in front of him. We watch with curiosity as he pulls out an enormous plastic container, the size of a wardrobe. The moment it materializes, he quickly steps back to avoid crushing his foot. It lands on its sturdy bottom with a loud thud. ¡°I call it the fridge. Feel free to stock up your inventories, and don¡¯t forget to thank the fox.¡± Mike steps in first and opens the container. To my surprise, it even has shelves. The meat is precisely cut into cubes and stacked in about twenty plastic boxes. ¡°How come it doesn¡¯t spoil?¡± Mike asks, picking out one container. ¡°I noticed in a few days that inventory not only defies the laws of physics, but time itself.¡± Mike opens the box and smells the meat. Astrid comes closer, picks up a cube, and hides it in her inventory. ¡°It takes one of my slots,¡± she comments. Mike quickly opens his inventory and tries to pour out the meat from the box. About ten chunks disappear, but the rest fall to the ground. ¡°Ah, shit.¡± He crouches down to pick them up. I wonder how they don¡¯t know about this. The first thing I did was experiment. ¡°Take it with the box. I see you haven¡¯t explored all the possibilities yet, huh?¡± Harald says, standing up. He takes out another two boxes from the fridge and hands one to Astrid and one to me. Mike gathers the meat from the ground, cleaning each piece of dirt and grass off it. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°Here, Mikey,¡± Astrid says, pouring some water over the meat to clean it. Everyone stores their meat boxes, and Harald proceeds to close the fridge. ¡°Give me a hand, boys. Lift it to about waist height. My back would thank me.¡± I¡¯m curious how he managed before. We both grab the bottom and lift. My arms hurt like hell, but I hide it well and don¡¯t channel my strength into them at all, so Mike bears most of the weight. Harald grabs the fridge with both hands, gives a slight push to the left, and I immediately feel it lighten. The fridge shrinks to nothing in an instant. ¡°Thanks, boys,¡± he says calmly. ¡°Thank you for the food, Mr. Nilsson,¡± Mike says, and Astrid nods. I look Harald in the eye and blink. ¡°So, how did your trip go?¡± he asks. Mike is already shifting from foot to foot, eager to spend his points, I guess. ¡°We sorted out all the trouble. Solved it. Everything went great,¡± Mike explains. Harald doesn¡¯t ask further. ¡°We got some levels from burning corpses, and now it¡¯s time to spend the points,¡± Astrid adds. ¡°How did you spend yours?¡± she asks. He raises his eyebrows. ¡°All equal, of course.¡± My mouth opens slightly on its own. What the heck? What a waste! Boomer! But I stay quiet and look at Mike. His expression is also puzzled. Astrid just nods at Harald. ¡°I¡¯ll go first,¡± Mike says, opening his stats menu. He points his finger in the air and presses. I watch his every move. He stops after a few clicks, his nostrils flaring as he takes a deep breath. He immediately sits on the ground. ¡°Are you alright?¡± Astrid asks. ¡°Yes, it¡¯s okay. It¡¯s just... a lot.¡± He exhales and continues clicking in the air. I know exactly when he¡¯s finished. His eyes are closed, and his mouth gradually curves into a smile. He takes a few deep breaths through his nose. His gray eyes snap open in the blink. From his cross-legged position, he gets up quickly, without using his arms or touching anything. ¡°How do you feel?¡± Astrid asks again. Harald watches from his seat on a rock in front of the fire, cleaning his combat knife with a cloth. I notice he¡¯s sitting on a cushion made of a piece of orange fur. ¡°Excellent. Still not even close to Mark. You must¡¯ve burned the whole pile of them as we did, but alone.¡± Mike looks at me. ¡°Now your turn,¡± he says, turning to Astrid.
Michael Ambers foreigner level 35
Strength 4 no skill
Agility 37 no skill
Willpower 2 no skill
Endurance 14 [+10] no skill
Dang it. I wish I could¡¯ve done this in solitude, I think to myself, glancing at my exhausted, hanging arms. ¡°Boy, you¡¯re not telling me anything else?¡± the old man asks. ¡°My level is 35, and I¡¯ve decided to put everything into agility. Always.¡± ¡°That¡¯s quite a bold strategy,¡± Harald responds, and Mike continues to justify his decision. ¡°At stat level 50, you unlock your first skill,¡± I interject. ¡°Why hit hard when I can hit precisely?¡± Mike argues. ¡°Why endure attacks if I never get hit? Jeez, I can¡¯t wait to get those additional 13 levels.¡± He punches the air and paces around like he¡¯s had five coffees at once. ¡°Any small creatures down the way you came, old man? Ones I can annihilate now?¡± ¡°Calm down, boy, and hold your temper. Sit down, and we¡¯ll go tomorrow,¡± Harald orders. Astrid agrees with a nod. ¡°What about you, Astrid?¡± Harald asks, looking at her. She opens her stats, and her expression turns surprised. ¡°Wow, that¡¯s a lot of points! Definitely putting some into endurance, but then willpower. You said fifty, right?¡± She looks at me. She fiddles with her panel and distributes the points. I watch her reactions closely. They¡¯re just like Mike¡¯s. After a few clicks, she sits down, apparently suffering from a headache. She touches her head, rubs her eyes, and continues.
Astrid Alm foreigner level 34
Strength 2 no skill
Agility 4 no skill
Willpower 31 no skill
Endurance 4 no skill
¡°Anything unusual?¡± Mike asks, staying close to her. ¡°No, no... well, actually yes.¡± She looks around, squinting. ¡°Do you see those lines?¡± She points at a nearby tree. ¡°What?¡± Mike looks at the tree. I do the same, and so does Harald. ¡°That leaf! Look at it! Don¡¯t you see it? It¡¯s being pulled down by some string!¡± She points at a large falling leaf. ¡°It¡¯s just a leaf. There¡¯s nothing there, sit down Astrid.¡± Mike says, worried as she touches her forehead. "Here! I forgot!" I say as I open my inventory and materialize the massive throne for her. "Sit and lean on something comfortable," I offer, and Mike helps her get up right away. "Hold up! Explain this," Harald says, looking at the piece of furniture.
We all sit around the fire until late, summarizing what we''ve encountered so far. Then we all look at Harald. ¡°I guess it¡¯s my turn now, right?¡± he says. Chapter 40 - Harald Nilsson ¡°Where to start?¡± ¡°Pff, if you could see yourselves.¡± He giggles, looking at us like a grandpa admiring his grandchildren around the Christmas tree. ¡°I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s because of the flames'' reflection, but your eyes are shining like pearls, eager for answers. So, what do you want to know?¡± He asks, adding another log to the firepit. ¡°Hmm... How did you...¡± I begin, but Mike interrupts me, louder and bursting into the conversation. ¡°Why do you have the gun?¡± He raises his eyebrows. ¡°Of course, I was waiting for this one first. I worked as a security guard back home. But I''m retired now.¡± ¡°Retired? How old are you?¡± Astrid asks curiously, stepping into the conversation. ¡°Guess.¡± ¡°Something over forty?¡± She guesses carefully. ¡°Hahaha, cough, cough,¡± he laughs. ¡°I may take that as a compliment.¡± ¡°So then, is it fifty?¡± I try to be more serious. He looks good, built sturdy with smooth skin. His hair is just starting to show signs of gray, but not significantly. As he leans over the fire, I notice his neck¡ªthat¡¯s the spot. His weathered skin tells me he¡¯s close to fifty or more. ¡°Good, good.¡± He smiles widely, revealing perfect teeth, and claps his hands. I bet those teeth are veneers. Too perfect, with no gaps or imperfections. ¡°Well, add another ten, and you¡¯re finally close,¡± he says with a grin. ¡°No way,¡± Astrid says, briefly checking him out. I even forgot what I wanted to ask. All I know is that now it¡¯s my turn. ¡°Where are you from?¡± ¡°Guess.¡± He responds, gracing us with another smile. ¡°Based on your native English and accent, I¡¯d say North America. Am I right?¡± I ask. ¡°Canada. But you three are definitely Europeans.¡± ¡°Yep, Northern Europe,¡± Mike confirms, then spits out another bold question. ¡°Do you wear a bulletproof vest?¡± Harald smiles again, unbuttons his sleeves, and takes off his jacket, revealing a modern black bulletproof vest. He removes it with ease. ¡°Phew. Finally, it¡¯s time to release the burden.¡± ¡°Are any of you interested in one?¡± He offers it to Astrid first. She stretches her arm over the firepit and grabs the vest. ¡°Ugh.¡± It almost falls into the fire. Mike quickly stands up and helps her. They pull the vest towards them, trying to lift it up and down a few times. The skinny girl can barely hold it steady. ¡°Thank you, but it¡¯s too heavy for me. Mike?¡± She turns to him. ¡°I¡¯m considering it, but it might slow me down. I bet for Markus this would be a piece of cake, right?¡± I prepare to grab the vest and automatically channel my strength. It flows from my core, thinning my body and moving straight to my arms. I try to limit it to avoid scaring anyone by suddenly swelling my arms. Before I even touch the vest, I already know I want it. I lift it a few times with ease. ¡°Whoa,¡± Mike says. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. I look directly into Harald''s eyes. ¡°Are you sure? What will you have then?¡± ¡°I have another two,¡± he replies swiftly. ¡°Thank you, Mr. Nilsson,¡± I say, clumsily putting it on. ¡°Just call me Harald, everyone. Deal?¡± ¡°Sure, Harald,¡± Mike answers. ¡°Still, Markus the strong one, take good care of it, okay? It cost me a life,¡± he adds with a wide smile. We are stunned for a moment. I frown. ¡°What?¡± Mike leans forward. ¡°Did you take it from your own dead body?¡± ¡°Yes. I believe none of you have died yet,¡± he replies. ¡°To be honest, I died once, but I don¡¯t remember it. Astrid and Markus went through more pain. From what they told me, I was blown up by some crippled old guy in a shack who was supposed to be a merchant. Markus here could tell you about his death, but I bet he doesn¡¯t want to.¡± I look at the ground worriedly and start speaking very briefly. ¡°I got crushed by a giant statue or troll or whatever it was. It was called the Old Traveler. I don¡¯t want to talk about it.¡± ¡°Of course.¡± Harald nods. ¡°I died twice. But you already know that. It was almost painless. I was in full-body shock and gone in the blink of an eye. At least the fridge is full, right?¡± he adds with an optimistic smile. ¡°But straight to the point, because I see you¡¯re confused. Your remains will stay intact unless some animals feast on them, or you stumble upon them in some state of decomposition. I¡¯d rather avoid that, so I chose to bury them. Everything you have with you, you¡¯ll be reborn with. That¡¯s all I¡¯ve observed so far.¡± ¡°Mike now has two sabres, so we found out the hard way after he was pulverized,¡± I note. ¡°So you have your gun multiple times now too? Behold the duplication glitch,¡± Mike says, eyes shining, without thinking twice. ¡°With the cost of a life?¡± Astrid says, her expression screaming, ¡°Are you serious?¡± Mike immediately realizes his mistake. To change the subject, Astrid asks another question. ¡°Have you met anyone besides us?¡± ¡°No. Only strange creatures and animals.¡± He looks up at the top of the tower, thinking. ¡°Well, there was someone... it was very strange. I saw a humanoid staring in my direction once. Before I even got my scope, it was gone. It was too far away, on the opposite side of the crater. I believe my mind was playing tricks on me. It couldn¡¯t be...¡± He stops, gazing up, and I see his eyes change. Nobody dares to ask more about it. ¡°Mr. Nilsson, you seem well-prepared for survival. How is that possible?¡± I ask. ¡°Harald only, please. I¡¯ll tell you more when I¡¯m comfortable.¡± ¡°You mentioned the crater,¡± Mike says. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m surprised you didn¡¯t see it from the top of the tower,¡± Harald replies. ¡°What?¡± Mike frowns and looks at the door, realizing it¡¯s too dark to run up and check. He won¡¯t see anything now. I recall the room in the tower, but I don¡¯t remember seeing anything unusual from the windows. But it was misty in the distance. ¡°It¡¯s bigger in diameter than the meadow you came from back there,¡± Harald says, pointing his thumb in the direction. ¡°Is it deep?¡± Mike asks. ¡°Boy, it¡¯s the deepest hole mankind has ever discovered on Earth¡ªa pure nightmare for anyone with chasmophobia. I didn¡¯t dare to approach the edge.¡± Mike and Astrid stare, their mouths open. I imagine the size of the arena we fought in before, and now picture it being so deep that it¡¯s pitch black. I start to shiver. ¡°What about the creatures? How did you get those levels?¡± Mike continues. ¡°I got ambushed by giant bugs in the desert. I wasted some ammo on those bastards until I found a strategy. One shot to stun it, then stab it with a combat dagger.¡± Mike seems ready to ask the next question, but Harald continues. ¡°Later, when the desert merged with a forest, I encountered wolves. Those bastards had six legs. Some of them gave me a tough time. I camped on top of the tree crowns for... good Lord, almost a week until I killed them all.¡± ¡°The more points I spent, the stronger my will to survive became. When my body wanted to give up, I invested in strength. When I felt uncomfortable, endurance helped. Willpower brightened my spirit and mood. And agility kept me sharp now and then. I slept on branches and always stayed alert. What was more concerning was that the wolves never stopped coming. I believe the more I killed, the stronger ones arrived.¡± I stare in disbelief, feeling bad for judging him about his choice of skill investment. After a quiet pause, I ask my last question. ¡°Do you keep any logs of the areas, like a map or something?¡± ¡°No, but I think that¡¯s a good idea,¡± Harald agrees. I take the opportunity to offer my help. ¡°You know, I had this idea of making a list of creatures and enemies we encounter, with detailed descriptions, maybe even sketches. And the same for the areas.¡± The couple nods in agreement, and so does Harald. My idea of surveying this strange world becomes a reality. Excited, I open my inventory and pull out the empty scrolls I took from the tower. Next, I grab a piece of coal from the fire pit. Harald stops my hand. ¡°Here.¡± He opens a small pocket on his chest and hands me a pen. I roll out the first scroll and switch on the pen. ¡°Stop! Markus!¡± Astrid yells, grabbing my hand. "The scroll isn¡¯t empty." Chapter 41 - Invisible Treasure ¡°What are you talking about? It¡¯s blank.¡± I shake my head. ¡°Show it to Mike and Harald.¡± I don¡¯t object and turn the scroll to face them. ¡°Indeed, it is empty, Astrid,¡± Harald confirms for me. Mike looks at her and nods. ¡°It¡¯s willpower then.¡± ¡°Harald, you have points in willpower too. Don¡¯t you see anything?¡± She tries to explain. Without hesitation, she grabs the scrolls from my hands, gets up quickly, and crouches near Harald. ¡°Look closer, here. Look.¡± Her finger travels over the surface of the paper. Harald squints his eyes, then leans forward, almost touching the paper with his nose. He takes out the flashlight from his chest pocket, gives it a few spins, and shines it on the paper from above and below. ¡°Are there gray and blue symbols and lines? Or is my mind just playing tricks on me?¡± ¡°Yes! Yes! This even looks like a drawing of some place. And there¡¯s a line of text. Here!¡± She points and circles her finger on the paper, yelling excitedly. ¡°I see it, but very dimly. Can you read the text?¡± ¡°It¡¯s some form of runes. I can¡¯t read it, Harald.¡± ¡°Astrid, I have an idea! Retrace everything you see with this pen.¡± I hand the pen I received from Harald to her. She agrees with a nod and kneels down in front of a flat stone on the opposite side of the firepit. Her tongue sticks out to the side as she carefully retraces everything on the paper. Harald chats with Mike, guessing what these papers might mean. I hold the remaining scrolls and examine them myself. I unroll them, touch the surface, sniff, and study the material. It¡¯s some sort of paper mixed with cloth, making it hard to tear. The scroll resembles a piece of clothing more than regular paper. As hard as I try to see something from different angles, I fail. It¡¯s simply blank. Mike and Harald have moved closer to Astrid, crouching around her and looking at the scroll. ¡°Yep. Definitely,¡± Mike confirms to Harald. ¡°This is a map with some sort of description.¡± I quickly join them and take a peek. The second she finishes drawing, Mike swipes it from her hands and goes to sit with Harald. I hand Astrid the rest of the papers. She diligently continues to retrace the remaining two maps and then hands me the fourth paper. ¡°This one is truly blank.¡± I roll it back up, hide it in my inventory, and join the boys. ¡°That black circle is the crater. Mark my words.¡± Harald presses his thick index finger against the scroll. The map is very detailed and scaled. If this circle is the crater Harald described, then a large portion of the world is depicted on this small piece of paper. Every object seems to have its own symbol. ¡°Look at this pointy black marker. This is the tower. We are here!¡± He points his finger against the paper to show us. I don¡¯t know where to look first. There are at least six markers resembling towers, but only one for the crater. I search the map for the symbol representing the flame bowl we first encountered, but there is none. ¡°Could this be a treasure map too?¡± Mike asks. I scoff, but only to myself. ¡°Without any X markers? I doubt it, Mike.¡± I giggle and move back to check on Astrid. We can hear the buzzing of the manual-pump flashlight as she recharges it. She is finishing the last scroll. I bend down slightly to reach for the second paper she completed. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.¡°You can take it. Don¡¯t be shy,¡± she says. I smile at her, pick it up, and study it while walking back to the boys. There is a strange line in the middle of the map, shaped like a railroad. ¡°What the heck could this be?¡± I hand the paper to Harald. ¡°A rail?¡± he wonders. In the far left corner is the same symbol for what we assume is the crater. It seems that those maps should be connected with some insignificant overlaps. We locate the stream and a small rocky pass with tiny castle walls. ¡°If this is in a right scale, then that rail is weeks of walking from here.¡± There are a few dense areas with triangle symbols stacked together. These could represent villages or towns. I stop speculating and hear soft footsteps. Astrid approaches with the last paper, so we compare them side by side. To my surprise, the last one is completely different. No similar symbols or traces link it to the other maps. ¡°That slightly bigger, crooked circle.¡± I point at it. ¡°This place is marked, what do you think?¡± Harald takes a closer look and confirms. Mike points his finger at the second map, highlighting a similar circle. ¡°The first one with arch markings must be the cave, and the second one, pointy, looks like a hill.¡± So indeed, he was right. This map has some points of interest circled, and we all assume those might be valuable locations. ¡°I see the excitement on your faces, kids. You¡¯re more than ready for an adventure. Or maybe a treasure hunt? But first, get some sleep, and we¡¯ll decide tomorrow.¡± Harald smiles widely again and rolls up the three maps. He opens his inventory and pulls out two sleeping bags, tossing one to Astrid. She barely catches it and starts unpacking. As always, I move a little farther from the group and set up my camp near the tower.
I close my eyes, listening to the wind and the crackling fire, trying to force myself to sleep, but I can¡¯t. With my arms folded behind my head, I gaze at the sky and think about the maps. I bet we¡¯ll go near the crater soon; the cave is marked close to it. My mind is chaotic again, and all possible outcomes flash before my eyes. Treasure? Trap? Important figure? Weapon? Boss? Shush, brain! I know what to do. If it were colder, I¡¯d move inside the tower, but I feel safer and less scared outside for some reason. To calm my thoughts and relax, I press my hand against the cold metal facade of the tower. Time to play with my skill. Channeling energy into my hands while cooling them, I drain my energy and finally fall asleep.
The first thing I hear in the morning is the voices of my companions and the delicious smell of roasted meat. My stomach growls, and my mouth waters. They¡¯re already discussing the plan. The fire is still burning, and Mike is roasting some fox meat on Harald¡¯s knife. Astrid stands beside him, covered in a blanket that came with her sleeping bag. I see they¡¯re heating up meat from nutrias and trading it with Harald. Dang it, I must¡¯ve slept well. Playing with my strength-shifting powers should become a bedtime routine. Checking my arms, I see they are healing¡ªslowly, but they are. I never realized how brittle humans are until I gained these skills. This makes me hungry for more points and I definitely need more endurance like never before. ¡°The arch symbol behind the crater area, is it?¡± I greet the group with a question. ¡°Good morning to you too.¡± The old man folds his arms and smiles. ¡°I see I wasn¡¯t the only one thinking about the maps all night.¡± He offers me a glass of hot beverage, probably black tea. I take a sip, and have some fox cubes for breakfast. He rolls out the correct map and turns, searching for the right direction. ¡°I basically came from that way, but above the crater. We can backtrack my path, and I¡¯ll show you which spots to avoid and where there might be danger.¡± He continues explaining.
We leave the camp and start a new journey. Mike stays close to Astrid, and I decide to walk with Harald. While we¡¯re walking, he asks about the giant merchant and all our purchases. It takes a lot of time to discuss this. I hand him my hammer, and he examines the craftsmanship thoroughly as we continue on our way. I try to find the right words to describe the grotesque appearance of the merchant. He listens with a terrified expression, probably I went overboard. To ease the fear I accidentally sparked, I tell him how unaware, harmless, and mindless the creature seemed¡ªit was just an NPC. This leads to another conversation about what NPCs are, and he listens intently, trying to understand.
So far, we¡¯ve walked through a classic European deciduous forest. Although it¡¯s still technically morning, the forest is darker, but not in a bad way. It feels almost magical, with brightly colored trees and the ground covered mostly in moss, colorful berries, mushrooms and flowers. I enjoy the moist air and take a deep breath. Astrid slows the group down, stopping for almost every mushroom and flower. Mike has to drag her to keep up the pace. ¡°A few more steps, and we¡¯re near my tent,¡± Harald suddenly announces. Indeed, after a few moments, we see a big yellow tent with a well-trodden path around it. ¡°Oh, what the fuck! Pardon my language, kids. I guess it¡¯s time to ready your weapons.¡± Chapter 42 - High Viscosity ¡°Harald?¡± I look at him, a bit worried. The closer we get to the tent, the more I notice how dirty it is. It seems deflated, having collapsed on its own, now lying almost completely flat among the flora. Transparent goo is smeared all over it, shining brightly and blinding me when beams of light filter through the trees. What instantly catches my eye is a long, thick, green-black tube draped over the top of the tent. What the heck? I ask myself. ¡°These bastards! I almost killed a few, and now this is the present they left for me.¡± ¡°Eew, is that what I think it is?¡± Astrid asks, disgusted. ¡°Yes, prepare your weapons, but it¡¯ll be a weird fight. Giant snails. They seem harmless until you realize they can move at the speed of an average human. Their shells are almost impenetrable, and...¡± Harald says angrily, pausing. ¡°I wasted a lot of rounds.¡± ¡°And what?¡± Michael steps up. ¡°They have teeth. A lot of them... and by a lot, I mean a lot!¡± ¡°Hmmmh.¡± Astrid looks around worriedly. ¡°And how in the world are snails immune to bullets fired from a gun?¡± Mike continues. ¡°These things produce a never-ending supply of sticky mucus. The mucus is so thick it absorbs every attack,¡± Harald explains, checking his cartridge. "I never got that close to them, but I believe that once they latch onto your head, they¡¯ll slowly chew it off. You¡¯ll either die from a slit throat or drown and suffocate in mucus." He continues. "I won¡¯t believe it until I see it for myself," Mike replies, unsheathing his sabre and taking a defensive stance. I decide to examine my arms, touching them all over, pressing them to encourage myself for combat again. The pale girl doesn¡¯t even finish counting her arrows or checking her bowstring when Mike yells and points his finger into the distance. ¡°So it begins,¡± Harald notes. I briefly turn my gaze toward the point of interest. What the... Oh god, this is grotesque and terrifying at the same time. The creature is approaching us faster than Harald warned us. I blink slowly, trying to comprehend what¡¯s happening before my eyes. I never imagined how strange a snail, about the height of an average human, would look while charging toward me. Its eyes point in all directions, and its pale skin, the color of freshly cut wood, expands in front of me. Its health bar swings over it, glowing a bright red. Helix Snail, level 36 Its shell is rather thin from the sides, bright purple with a few orange spots, ending with a pointy tip that protects the bottom part of the snail¡¯s foot. There¡¯s no time to catch all the details. My view is abruptly shaded by a tall figure. Mike steps right in front of me, raising his sabres to shoulder height and taking an offensive stance. Astrid stands on the left. She gently sets an arrow on her bowstring and pulls it halfway back. Harald is on the right. He presses the button on his Glock, removes the magazine, flips it quickly in his muscular hand, brings it closer to his gray stubble, which seems coarse, and gently blows on the first bullet. He reinserts it swiftly. Was this necessary? I¡¯m curious, but my lack of knowledge about firearms prevents me from thinking too much about it. I peek from behind Mike and grasp my hammer even tighter, but I don¡¯t use the power I recently acquired. I¡¯m saving that for the heat of combat. The snail approaches, and I see a droplet of sweat run down Mike¡¯s head, from behind his ear to his neck. The googly eyes have no pupils and no visible mouth. The giant slug doesn¡¯t even get a chance to attack before the fierce tall man strikes. He performs a quick upper slash at the right side of the slug¡¯s head. The swift motion of the worn-out sabre suddenly stops. Pale body, covered in mucus, absorbs the power of the attack. The snail¡¯s muscular body grips the blade, and with the help of the thick, gluey mucus, it stops the momentum completely. Mike struggles to pull it back. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. He tosses his other sword behind him and, in the blink of an eye, grabs his weapon with both hands, trying to bend it down for leverage. Surprisingly, it doesn¡¯t work. The snail curls its head to the side, locking the sword even more tightly. I step in, dodging to the left. Mike does the opposite and moves to the right. After a brief hesitation, he steps onto the snail¡¯s body, and as expected, his sneaker gets fully soaked in mucus. The leverage doesn¡¯t work, and he¡¯s trapped by his right foot. Lucky for him, the snail decides to attack another victim. Holding my hammer at chest height, my eyes dart around, searching for the best spot to smash. Of course, my attempt is canceled instantly. The horrific sight in front of me grabs all my attention. An invisible slit appears somewhere in the middle of what is supposed to be the head of the slug. It opens quickly, revealing a mouth and three rows of tiny but sharp teeth. They¡¯re all connected to the squishy, fleshy body. I don¡¯t have a chance to do anything. All I see is the mouth rapidly latching onto my left knee. I don¡¯t feel any sharp pain yet, as I expected. ¡°Aaargh! You gotta be kidding me!¡± My already numb and damaged knee takes another hit. Adrenaline kicks in, and I barely feel any pain. *Muffled thud* An arrow hits the lower part of the snail¡¯s body. It reacts as expected: zero damage, zero impact. The mucus absorbs everything, and the arrow simply merges with the wave of slime. ¡°Old man?!¡± Mike turns to Harald, confused. ¡°I won¡¯t risk shooting any of you.¡± He jumps close and grabs the snail under its eye with his bare hand. His combat knife is already in his right hand. He fiddles with the cord connecting the huge eyeball to the body. The left eye shrinks and sinks into the body in a second. He somehow manages to slit the cord halfway, making it spew more glue and mucus. Its health bar depletes slightly. This makes the snail squirm, finally releasing my knee. A bit of fabric is missing from my pants, but I was lucky; there is no significant damage yet. A little blood is seeping out, but it¡¯s negligible. Harald loses his knife in the process. He backs up a few steps and opens his inventory. Mike is the next to retreat. He lets go of his sabre and steps back, leaving his sneaker glued to the snail¡¯s body. Meanwhile, my only reaction when this all starts is to bang the snail on its shell. I¡¯m not using my ability yet, just my normal strength, with all my power evenly distributed. *Dong* The hammer bounces off the shell, and all the force shoots into my forearm, making it hurt like hell. I limp away and quickly check the damage. My knee, again! My sweatpants from the knee down are already stained with blood. The snail chooses its next victim. Its left eye pops out of its head and looks at Harald. Its right eye is limp, half-cut. The creature opens its wide mouth again, revealing rows of razor-sharp but tiny teeth. *Bang* *Bang* Astrid and I both cover our ears. The old man fires two shots into its mouth, but the bullets don¡¯t penetrate. They¡¯re stuck in the back of its head, in the mucus. Again, the health bar shrinks by the smallest fraction. Astrid takes advantage and shoots an arrow into its opened mouth. It sticks, and the snail struggles to remove it, the arrow blocking its mouth from closing.
I can¡¯t help myself; I want to throw some heavy rocks! That¡¯s the first thing that comes to mind. My curiosity spikes. I want to see how it will react, what could possibly happen. Would it spit them out? But now¡¯s not the time for experiments. We need to kill it now! If there are more, we¡¯re seriously screwed. While the snail struggles, a childhood memory flashes in my mind. If I remember correctly, I saw a nature documentary as a kid. The host talked about crustaceans and the spiral tip of their shells. Despite being the toughest part of their shells, it contains and protects the most vital organ located at the tip¡ªtheir heart. ¡°Harald, Astrid, cover me! Michael, stay by my side, ready to thrust!¡± I shout while limping toward the snail¡¯s side. It¡¯s still struggling with the arrow in its mouth. With a shrug, the old man questions the situation, glancing at Astrid. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I believe in him,¡± Astrid says. I¡¯m momentarily flattered by her confidence in me. ¡°Show us, young man,¡± Harald says, raising his chin. Mike follows me without hesitation. I know he smells the chance for a kill. ¡°Focus!¡± Channeling my power to my right arm, I feel my shoulder burning. My skin stretches, and my muscle mass shifts. I strain with all my might. The snail knows what¡¯s coming and opens its mouth even wider, aiming for me. *Thud* Astrid fires another arrow into its mouth. But it wasn¡¯t necessary. *Bang* Chapter 43 - One of His Secrets *Loud crack follows* My power attack lands precisely on the spot. The spiral cone collapses inward, and the calcium shell shatters into pieces. My hammer¡¯s head cracks the shell like a boiled egg. Fragments of the shell slide down in a stream of mucus, cascading over the shell. I barely manage to escape before getting drenched in the waterfall of mucus. The snail wobbles all around, making the puckering sound of air bubbles bursting through the open shell. As the flow of mucus finally lessens, the beating, fleshy, shiny part is exposed. ¡°Now! Stab!¡± I shout at Mike. But I don¡¯t have to. His second sabre is already piercing through the air, burying itself inside the creature. His face shines, and his eyes are burning. Wide open mouth full of teeth, with an evil grin. We won. My mouth is open as I gaze at the snail, examining it. Life force is leaving its body. It is observable with every second. Its health bar steadily depletes until it disappears. The one eye that was still standing strong is now drooping to the side. Mike removes his blade from the heart of the creature. The handle of his sabre is covered in a mixture of blood and mucus. It¡¯s gross, but he doesn¡¯t care. With a few quick flicks of his weapon, he shakes the fluids off his blade and his right hand. The creature drops onto its left side with a loud thud, its mortal wound facing up. Mike drives the sabre into the ground with a slight force, then raises both arms, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. What the heck? Did he get a level? I ask myself, but I don¡¯t dare interfere with his moment. ¡°Woohoo,¡± the old man cheers, revealing a smile again. ¡°Those were some impressive moves.¡± He looks at Mike and then curiously at me. ¡°Boy, how in the world are you doing this?¡± He comments on my shape-shifting ability, which he hasn¡¯t seen before. Mike opens his eyes, takes another deep breath through his nose, and claps his hands. ¡°Good.¡± He finishes with a wide smile, completely ignoring Harald. ¡°Boys?¡± A frightened, pale Astrid joins, clutching one of her few remaining arrows. From the tone of her voice, I know there¡¯s another one, maybe even more. Turning my head toward the direction she¡¯s looking, I know my prediction was correct. I ready my hammer once again, but my still wounded and bruised arms are a warning. I must be more precise. Shifting my power from other parts of my body to one area, the sheer amount of strength is far greater than my outer shell can handle. I move in front of Astrid, blocking her view. Gripping my hammer with both hands, I slowly channel the energy and ready myself. Two snails are approaching us at a fairly high speed. ¡°First, I take the left one, then the right,¡± I order the party, feeling like I¡¯m the only one capable of breaking through the shell. With the condition of my arms, I won¡¯t be able to do it more than two or three times. I must be precise and not miss. While focusing and charging my attack, waves of flesh and blood move under my skin. Astrid and Mike stand on either side, prepared. ¡°Ouch! Mr. Nilsson!¡± What the... I lose my focus. I need to start over. The curious old man pinches my tricep area, examining the fluid movement under my skin. ¡°Sorry, I was just curious. Sorry again.¡± He takes out the magazine, blows over the first bullet, and reinserts it. The snails are too close now, and Astrid stands there like bait. She barely steps away from the snail¡¯s attack¡ªit¡¯s my time. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. *Bang* I hit it hard at the tip of the shell spiral. The power I released to crack it was estimated just right. The shell cracks under my hammerhead. It¡¯s not the same impact as before; the radius of the crack is smaller, and my hammer barely gets buried inside. I struggle for a second and have to wobble it free. The petite girl is ready. The moment I remove my hammer, her arrow slides right in. ¡°Whoa.¡± What the... What if I¡¯d moved slightly into her shot? I back away, wondering. With my arms still swollen, I move to the next snail to repeat the strategy. ¡°Aargh!¡± Mike screams in pain and grunts. He drops his sabre and covers his eye. The snail rams into him, causing him to lose his balance. He falls on his back, and the slimy creature runs over him. The snail lifts its shell and releases a wave of mucus from beneath. Astrid screams for Mike and shoots another arrow right into the snail¡¯s face. The depletion of its health bar is negligible, and I can count her remaining arrows on one hand. Mucus spreads quickly, covering a radius of several meters. Mike is fully pinned to the ground. I can¡¯t get close enough to make a hit. *A loud gunshot follows* I look at the snail¡¯s shell¡ªthe tip of the spiral is blown off. Pieces of the hard shell flow down from the opening with the stream of mucus, merging with the pond beneath the snail. I immediately turn to Harald. He¡¯s standing there with a black military shotgun.
What the hell? What else does he have? ¡°Finish it, Markus!¡± He grabs his belt holster, flicks out his Glock, and unlocks it. With a quick step toward me, he hands me the gun, grip first. I take it without hesitation. ¡°Aim and press the trigger. Simple as that,¡± he says confidently. My target is close. I stick the gun near the hole and fire. *Bang* The snail¡¯s health bar drains instantly, and it collapses to the side like the one before, its mortal wound facing up. Astrid jumps into the scene and tries to push the snails muscular leg away from Mike. She gets stuck to the ground near Mike and the dead snail. He manages to wiggle free a bit. Once his arms are free, he cleans his face, finally able to take a deep breath. ¡°Fuuc...¡± He gags a few times and presses his palm against his eye. This has happened before, but not so severely. Does he have a serious eye injury, or maybe something with his brain? A brief thought flashes through my mind. I see the old man wants to help Mike up, but he¡¯s interrupted by the crackling of branches in the distance. He focuses his gaze on a darker corner of the forest. ¡°We¡¯ll manage! Go!¡± Astrid orders us as she takes care of Mike. The old man crouches and looks around, eyes peeled, holding the shotgun against his chest, barrel facing down. I hand him back his gun. He locks it and holsters it without a word. The moment the gun slides in, he immediately takes it out, unlocks it, and hands it to me again. Quickly standing up, he sprints toward the darker part of the forest. I focus on the direction he¡¯s running and see the silhouette of another snail. As we approach it from behind, the old man crouches. ¡°Can you still do it?¡± he whispers, looking at my hammer. ¡°I think I can.¡± Gripping my hammer tightly, I sneak behind the snail, only to discover a group of them. They are smaller than the others we¡¯ve encountered. ¡°Is this their nest?¡± I whisper. ¡°Sshh. We need to surprise them!¡± He points at the first snail, then the other two. I take it as my command. *Bang* The heart area is exposed with one precise, moderately strong hit. I skip finishing it off and move quickly to another. Four snails with broken shells are now squirming around. Harald fires two shots from his Glock, blowing off the spiral areas. It works on the smaller ones. He switches to his combat knife and finishes them off. Before I can draw the gun, Mike is already in the fray, stabbing the snails with his sabre. ¡°Hey! Those are mine!¡± I frown. ¡°Don¡¯t waste your bullets. I¡¯ll return the favor in the next fight.¡± I shake my head in disbelief.
It seems Mike¡¯s eye pain has lessened, and he followed us. The mucus on his clothes is dry now, and he has his missing sneaker back. Astrid catches up, joining us while picking dried mucus from her clothes. The wind has completely died down, and the only sound is our footsteps and the occasional burping of snails¡¯ deflating bodies and flowing mucus. ¡°Is that it?¡± I ask the old man. ¡°I think we¡¯re done for now. Clean up, and we need to move before dawn,¡± he says, pointing ahead. I wonder why he suddenly wants to leave this area.
We continue through the colorful mushroom forest. Harald leads, and I walk close by. As we walk, Mike kicks at wild mushrooms and waves his sabre, slashing at the flora. ¡°Cut it out, Mikey!¡± I hear an annoyed Astrid. The old man chuckles. He clears his throat and asks me, ¡°Have you ever shot a gun before?¡± I shake my head. ¡°You can have it if you want.¡± He looks me in the eye. ¡°Just like that?¡± I raise my eyebrows. ¡°With a little help from your strength, if you don¡¯t mind.¡± I look confused for a moment, trying to imagine what in the world he could need from me. ¡°Do you think you could lift a car?¡± Chapter 44 - The Pit I raise my eyebrows so high it almost hurts. ¡°To be honest, I expected you to say everything but this,¡± I say. ¡°When I got here, through the tunnel¡­¡± ¡°Tunnel or a hole in the ground?¡± I interrupt him. ¡°Yes, you can call it a hole. But the ride was quite long, so more like a tunnel,¡± he answers. ¡°There was a car and a person. I¡­ I made a lot of mistakes. I¡¯m responsible for all the mess that happened. That person and the car fell in right along with me.¡± I see his dead stare as he mentions the person. He¡¯s trying hard to cover it, but I can see right through him. It¡¯s so hard for him to open up about this that I decide not to dig any deeper. ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll try to lift your car.¡± His eyes, which were sad just a moment ago, brighten with a smile, contrasting his usual wide grin. I pull the gun out of my sweatpants pocket. It even catches on the fabric with the rear sight. If this were loaded, I might have shot off a piece of my leg¡ªor worse. How embarrassing. I bet he just thinks I¡¯m clumsy and could be a danger not only to myself but to others. He¡¯s definitely reevaluating his decision to hand it over when we fought the snails. I quickly give it back to him, barrel first, while he maintains his poker face. ¡°You said after I lift it,¡± I remind him. ¡°Uh, right. Here. If this lever is like this, it¡¯s locked.¡± He shows me some basics on how to operate the gun...
¡°Old man!¡± We suddenly stop and both turn around at the same time. ¡°Come and try to hit me!¡± Mike challenges Harald, encouraging him to slap. ¡°I have my first skill, finally!¡± he proudly announces. What the hell?! Did he choose it while walking behind us? He can¡¯t be over fifty. What the heck? Maybe it''s not fifty. It was all my speculation. Or is it different for different people? ¡°Apparently, it¡¯s forty for me!¡± Mike says with a smirk. ¡°Good for you. Which one?¡± I reply, figuring he had to choose from the default options. ¡°Sharpen [Sharpen all senses for a limited time].¡± ¡°Sounds great,¡± I say. Yep, it''s one of those generic ones. Harald looks me over and then rolls up the right sleeve of his black, coarse-knit sweater, revealing a muscular and hairy forearm. As he approaches Mike, who seems more than ready, a smile cracks across his face. *Slap* Astrid bursts into laughter. I chuckle too. Dang it. That slapping sound was funny, and how he leaned to the side before springing back like a clown on a spring. Pfff. ¡°Mike?¡± Astrid looks at him. ¡°I don''t know. Do I need to activate it somehow?¡± ¡°Mark?¡± His gaze lands on me. ¡°Say, whisper, or just think of the skill name or the skill itself,¡± I say calmly. I close my fist, stick my left arm in the air, and say out loud, ¡°Focus.¡± The energy and warmth travel instantly from the center of my body to the tips of my fingers. *Bwoosh* A fleshy, intimidating sound is produced. About half of my hand increases in size. It''s not double, but it is at least fifty percent bigger. Astrid¡¯s eyes widen, and she raises her eyebrows. I see Harald is fascinated. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ¡°Try now!¡± Mike tells the old guy. ¡°Sharpen!¡± Mike shouts, his left cheek still reddish. Astrid backs away a few steps from them. *Whoosh* The slap lands perfectly, but in the air. Mike manages to dodge it with ease. The old man tries again, and the confident boy dodges once more, like a martial arts expert. *Whoosh* Another perfectly timed dodge. He bonks the old man on his left shoulder afterward. ¡°Okay, okay. Great powers! Now stop,¡± I tell them while approaching. But they aren''t listening. Harald closes his fist and tries to hit him harder and faster. He once again dodges with surgical precision and returns the attack, hitting the old man in the chest. Harald narrows his eyes, focusing even more. *Bam* ¡°Mikey!¡± Astrid rushes in to catch him as he falls like a bag of potatoes. Harald shakes off his fist and crouches closer to Mike, who¡¯s lying on the ground. Mike opens his eyes, his expression surprised. ¡°Young man?¡± Harald offers his hand to help him up. ¡°You clearly forgot about ¡®Sharpen all senses for a LIMITED time.¡¯¡± Mike scoffs, grabbing Harald''s hand and getting back on his feet. ¡°So you have a limit too?¡± he looks at me. I shrug. ¡°No idea. I can¡¯t even test it, obviously,¡± I reply while pulling up my sleeves. Harald starts walking toward me again, looking into the distance. This gesture tells us all to continue moving toward the pit. ¡°We¡¯re close. Focus on what you see,¡± Harald stops and tells the group. He looks into the distance, shading his eyes with his hand. It¡¯s not even necessary. This gesture must be a habit, or is he sensitive to light? I noticed how often he does this, even when there are no sun rays blocking his vision. A few more steps, and I feel two things: a cold breeze coming from between the tall trees in the distance and an eerie echoing sound from the same direction. The sounds match my imagination exactly. It must be a mix of wind suddenly contending with a deep crater. Not sure if I even want to see this. Deep, bottomless holes are nightmare fuel for me. Mike and Astrid quicken their steps forward. ¡°There¡¯s no way¡­¡± Astrid grabs Mike by the arm, amazed yet terrified as she watches the scenery. Weird shivers run down my spine as I approach the forest''s edge. Gigantic? No, humongous? No. The only word that can describe it is gargantuan. A gargantuan crater, about the size of a small neighborhood, appears in front of my eyes. Before realizing how deep it is, I comprehend the width first. It¡¯s something definitely out of this world. The visible inner walls of the crater are made of solid rock. From the surface, the color gradient changes from brown to gray cobblestone. The brown soil part is rather thin, about the height of a tree. I compare it while watching the scale. We keep walking towards it. The closer I get, the more surreal the experience is. Occasionally, small rocks fall in, making echoes. ¡°It can¡¯t be bottomless,¡± Mike says as he marches toward the crater. ¡°Fuck.¡± He yells. I still see only the rocky side that fades into darkness. Harald has gotten completely used to it and doesn¡¯t even flinch. Mike is lifting a heavy stone. ¡°Are you stupid? It can pull you down!¡± Astrid quickly warns him. He pushes the stone near the edge, and it falls. Tumbling and cracking echoes until there¡¯s silence again. I grab a small stone and approach the edge. By the edge, I mean dozens of meters away from it. My fear of depth does not allow me to step any closer. I toss the rock as far as I can, and it¡¯s sucked into the abyss as if it wasn¡¯t even real. ¡°Continue over there. We¡¯ll wait until morning,¡± Harald points toward an open area where he probably had a camp before. ¡°It¡¯s not even dusk! I want points!¡± Mike argues. ¡°Do you want to face a swarm of unholy, fast, six-legged wolves on your own?¡± Harald looks him in the eye, frowning. ¡°How come they won¡¯t come for us here at night?¡± Mike asks. ¡°Because they''re afraid of me. Ha ha ha.¡± Harald smiles, revealing his big, perfect teeth again. Mike turns around and starts to unpack. They prepare the camp, and I make my spot farther from theirs. Not from them, but from the crater. I¡¯m constantly shivering.
Lying on my makeshift bed, I breathe heavily, filled with fear and chaos. I need to consolidate my thoughts. You are Markus. Markus Hale. You are here and now. There is nothing else. You died yet live. You¡¯ve seen extreme gore, yet you¡¯re fine. You have all the luck in the world¡ªhighest level, secret skill, you¡¯ve killed the boss and protected the innocent. You have Harald, who is great, kind, and wise. You look up to him, and he likes you. Astrid seems to have the potential to be a good friend. Mike might be one day too. And her cat spoke to you. Only you! ¡°Yaawn.¡± Hush brain! It was all a dream. I keep yawning, my eyes are closing. The cat answers only to her, by the *Snap* I snap my fingers, half-asleep, not sure why. I just wanted to know how it feels to her. *A discrete poof* Pocco appears in front of my face with a dust cloud. ¡°Yep. I¡¯m sleeping. You¡¯re not here. This is a dream.¡± I gaze at the translucent cat. ¡°Meow.¡± ¡°Great. Another super vivid one. At least this is confirmed. I can¡¯t call you with a flick, only your owner, Astrid, so now you''re gonna meow and then talk to me, right? Pfff.¡± I look at him with one eyebrow raised, completely incredulous. ¡°Owner. Meow.¡± ¡°What owner? She is your owner?¡± ¡°Yes. Meow.¡± ¡°So then what? Am I your owner too?¡± I whisper . ¡°Yes. Meow.¡± ¡°So both?¡± I ask again. ¡°Yes. Meow.¡± ¡°Do you even know how to say no?¡± ¡°Yes. Meow.¡± I sigh. ¡°Statue. Find,¡± he continues. I frown immediately. ¡°Okay, listen here, you little brat. I found the statue! And it squeezed the life out of me! So get the hell out of here and leave me to sleep,¡± I whisper angrily. *Poof* He disappears. My eyelids grow heavy and close. I finally fall asleep, deeply.
*Indistinct mumbling* wakes me up. Chapter 45 - Consequences I breathe out heavily. What the hell is it again? I think to myself angrily. This anger triggers my power automatically without saying Focus. Or maybe a thought flashed through my mind as I got angry; I¡¯m not sure. But from my core, a muscle mass moves, and I warm myself unintentionally. Wildlife disrupting my sleep is bad enough, but the presence of that humongous hole and the occasional echoes from falling rocks are more than haunting. Compared to the sleep near any of the fire bowls, this is terrible. Heck, I consider sleeping near those my best sleep ever. It was like being sedated. But wait. These aren¡¯t animal noises. Are these sounds coming from Mike? Moaning is getting louder and louder, and I think I hear Astrid there too. Are they? What the fu¡ª No, I can hear some mumbling from Harald too, and a grunt. You fucking creep, what did you imagine? I try to identify what they are doing for a few more seconds, but I conclude these are the sounds of pain. I quickly get up and turn towards the camp¡ªand that damn hole. It¡¯s dark, and the only light source is the fireplace Harald made in the distance. Twigs crack under my feet as I approach them, my eyes wet and sticky. I can only make out silhouettes and hear the moaning. Maybe moving so far away wasn¡¯t a good idea after all. But that damn hole. ¡°Come quickly,¡± says the old man with a worried tone. He signals me to come closer. Astrid is kneeling over Mike¡¯s right arm, pinning him down. He screams and thrashes around. Harald quickly changes his position, kneels by his legs, and grabs both ankles to hold him. Astrid tries to comfort him but with no success. I am now fully awake and ready to help. Mike¡¯s left hand is glued to his face, covering his eye. What in the damn hell happened? I ask myself. It¡¯s complete chaos. Astrid starts yelling at him. The pain seems to be getting worse, and he starts screaming loudly. ¡°Speak to me, Mikey!¡± I doubt he even hears her; the pain must be excruciating. Harald yells at me, and Mike continues to scream. If this won¡¯t attract wildlife, I don¡¯t know what will. The only thing I can do is kneel down and help hold him too. I open my right palm wide and press it against his chest. Pushing as hard as I can, I feel something hard on his chest¡ªmaybe a piece of metal under his clothes. It must be a pendant he¡¯s wearing. It could kill him if I use my true force. He¡¯s too uncontrollable, and even three people can¡¯t hold him still. I slide my hand to the side to avoid pushing the pendant against his body. If I use my strength, I could not only leave marks on his skin but push the pendant through his sternum. Time to accumulate the power. I ignore my surroundings and focus only on my core energy. Astrid would never forgive me if I accidentally kill him here. But on the other hand, I can take away his pain. The muscle mass slowly moves from my stomach, radiating to my right hand. My palm swells, and like a hydraulic press, I push him to the ground. He does everything but refuses to remove the left arm from his eye. I push a little more; he coughs, exhales a lot of air, and faints. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. Fuck. That didn¡¯t kill him, right? Maybe he used all his energy? I withdraw my power instantly and back away. My arm deflates like a balloon, returning to its original state. ¡°What have you done, Mark?!¡± the old man asks angrily. ¡°Check his pulse, for god¡¯s sake!¡± ¡°He¡¯s breathing,¡± Astrid says, leaning close to his face. ¡°He fainted.¡± As I calm down, I see he¡¯s breathing from his chest movements. Astrid holds his hand with her left and rolls his jacket under his head for support. Then his hand finally slides off his face. Astrid backs away with a frightened sob, and Harald leans over, his gaze a mix of surprise and unease. Mike¡¯s eye is open and dark brown, almost black, with no visible whites. It¡¯s entirely dark and noticeably smaller than his other eye. I frown and back away after seeing his whole complexion. If the eye weren¡¯t reflecting the bonfire, I¡¯d say he¡¯s missing it completely. Now both eyes are open¡ªone is a normal light gray, but the other makes his appearance unsettling. From afar, it might seem he just lost an eye and has only a blank socket left. But up close, it¡¯s clear there¡¯s a tiny eyeball. Gross. I think to myself. Well, I hope I didn¡¯t say that out loud. Did I? We¡¯re all disgusted and shocked, but everyone tries to be discreet. Mike is quietly sleeping. What else can we do? Astrid closes his eyes with a hint of disgust.
We agree to stay through the night and wait until he wakes up. Astrid stays by his side. I decide to stay on watch with Harald and switch later. The commotion could attract anything but good forces. I see Harald checking on poor Astrid. She seems fed up with the situation, uncomfortable. She keeps turning away, especially from Mike¡¯s face. His sudden disfigurement must make her uneasy. Not just his eye has changed, but his face and eyelid are all wrinkled and have different skin too. ¡°Here, bandage his eye and face. We don¡¯t know how it might react to the open air,¡± says the old man, handing her a piece of cloth long enough to use as a bandage. I know exactly why he did it. We sit silently through the night, gazing at the starry sky. Being close to friendly, living beings gives me enough of a sense of safety that I almost forget the gargantuan sinkhole is just a few dozen meters away.
The sun starts to reveal its edge on the horizon of distant trees. It must still be very early morning. The caring girl is sleeping next to Mike, holding his hand. The first rays of sunlight shine through the trees, illuminating the behemoth sinkhole. The light wakes the couple. Mike slowly twitches, and his healthy eye opens. The red-haired girl wakes up with him, quickly remembering what happened. She starts to care for and question him. ¡°Boy, do you remember anything from yesterday?¡± the old man asks. He seems confused. ¡°Nah, nothing special.¡± He thinks for a bit and checks our expressions. ¡°No. You three were all above me yelling. That¡¯s all.¡± He tells us confidently, sits up, and starts to unwind the cloth from his face. A few more unrolls, and when his eye is revealed, we all freeze for a moment. ¡°Aargh. My head. It¡¯s getting darker, I will¡­ Ugh.¡± Astrid reacts quickly, catching him. She holds him from falling back. ¡°Come on, don¡¯t stare like that, help me!¡± I jump near her and cover Mike¡¯s face again. ¡°Hold tight, Mikey.¡± She says. ¡°I¡¯m okay, I¡¯m okay,¡± he assures us. ¡°When I opened my other eye, everything started to glitch.¡± He begins to unwind the bandage again. ¡°Stop it!¡± Astrid grabs his hand. ¡°How am I supposed to figure out what¡¯s going on?¡± He continues unwinding. His small eye is now closed. He covers his healthy eye with his right hand and opens the tiny black eye. It gives me chills again. He looks around carefully with the small eye. He closes the tiny eyelid over the shiny eyeball, switches his hand to cover the small eye, and looks around with the healthy one. ¡°So?¡± Astrid asks impatiently. ¡°Wait.¡± He switches again and looks around, confused. ¡°Fuck!¡± Astrid jerks as he yells and almost falls back again. ¡°Mikey!¡± He tries looking through both eyes again. ¡°It¡¯s like I can¡¯t comprehend reality. My brain is trying to shut it off.¡± ¡°Aren¡¯t the images matching?¡± the old man asks. ¡°Great, now I need a fucking eyepatch and have to relearn coordination?¡± He shakes off Astrid¡¯s hand. Clearly, he¡¯s mad at his condition, but yelling at her won¡¯t help either. ¡°No, they don¡¯t match at all¡ªcolor, shape, distance, everything is different. It¡¯s all messed up,¡± he says with frustration. ¡°Think. Why did this happen?¡± she suggests. He gives her a look that makes her stand up and leave. Harald has no idea what¡¯s going on, but I have a clue. Mike took the golden bracelet from the monkey¡¯s tail, despite Astrid telling him not to. I¡¯ve seen this eye before¡ªthe eye of the monkey as life slowly left it when I pierced its neck and let the blood flow out. ¡°We could seek answers at the temple, but it¡¯s a long way back, and it disappeared,¡± I say, turning to Harald. ¡°No. I¡¯ll manage. Let¡¯s continue the quest¡ªentering the cave on the edge of the desert,¡± the tall boy orders as he starts packing up. ¡°And that small favor Harald asked me,¡± I mutter under my breath. Chapter 46 - Food Chain The fireplace is trampled to prevent another wildfire, and our belongings are disappearing into thin air, sucked into the inventories. Despite having only sixteen slots for items, Harald is even taking the wooden logs we used as chairs. I hide my "throne" and consolidate my inventory, storing all the food inside the plastic container Harald gave me. I watch him try to shovel some burning charcoal into a metal can, unsuccessfully attempting to store it in his inventory. ¡°I tried before with a torch. It went out immediately. I think there¡¯s a vacuum inside the inventory, which is why no food ever spoils,¡± I explain, recalling my past experiences. ¡°And that¡¯s why fire is extinguished right away.¡± ¡°Anyway, we have a lighter, but you never know,¡± he adds. Once the packing is finished, the old man is the first to move, leading the party toward his task¡ªlifting the car¡ªand ours: exploring the cave. Mike is standing too close to the edge of the crater, gazing into the distance and enjoying the wind. ¡°Michael! Noo!¡± The girl screams, startling Harald, who drops a wooden log on his boot. Thankfully, his boots must have steel tips because he doesn¡¯t react. The log rolls away, and Harald watches as the girl dashes toward Mike, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him back. In an instant, he loses his balance, and all I see is him landing on his backside. ¡°Ouch! What are you doing?¡± He touches his rear, wincing from the impact. ¡°Fuck, fuck, not again¡­¡± His voice fades as he lies flat on his back. Apparently, she grabbed him by the bandana too, which fell off his head, revealing his eye. ¡°I¡¯m sorry!¡± she apologizes, quickly rewrapping the cloth over his eye. ¡°You were about to fall!¡± ¡°No, I wasn¡¯t!¡± he responds angrily. ¡°I saw transparent strands going from your feet down the side of the sinkhole,¡± she explains with a sigh. No one comments on this, but I can¡¯t hide my surprise. Is this her new ability, developing with her willpower? Can she foretell the near future? Maybe she sees invisible strands, like the path falling leaves would take. I think about it for a moment. Is she able to witness gravity a second before it happens? If this evolves into a real skill, she¡¯ll be an extraordinary backup. Then there¡¯s Pocco. She can call him for a minute, and he¡¯s capable of scouting large areas. And now she can see where objects will fall? I¡¯m amazed but also frustrated with myself for finding utility in her abilities. Wait¡ªdidn¡¯t I dream about Pocco again last night? He spoke to me, and I called him with a snap. It¡¯s strange how I have these dreams only after eating fatty meat before bed, followed by testing my Focus skill. Should I snap my fingers now to see if it works? I hesitate. I¡¯m not totally sure it wasn¡¯t just a dream. I¡¯ll do it later, when I¡¯m fully awake, aware, and alone. Then I¡¯ll snap my fingers and see.
We¡¯re walking in pairs again¡ªHarald and I in front, with the couple behind us. I glance back at them occasionally. The girl keeps adjusting Mike¡¯s headscarf every few minutes as it slips off, revealing his disfigured eye. She notices me looking and raises an eyebrow at me. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Damn, that must¡¯ve been awkward. I won¡¯t turn around again for a while. I focus on the path ahead and relish the most pleasant feeling¡ªputting distance between myself and that crater. I still can¡¯t believe I managed to fall asleep so close to it. I¡¯ve always had a fear of heights and deep dark holes. I even hated sewer entrances and missing manhole covers, but now that fear has fully kicked in.
Finally, the sun is fully up, revealing a beautiful sunny day. I¡¯m not usually a fan of this kind of weather; I prefer heavy rain or even a storm. But under current conditions, this is the best we could hope for. The crater is surrounded by a vast, deep forest. The terrain near the tower transitions from colorful patches of mushrooms and tiny flowers to a mossy, moist area near the open space around the crater. On the far side of the crater, however, the forest looks ominously similar to the creepy one full of hangmen. It¡¯s dark, and if it were night, I¡¯m sure even I would refuse to step inside. ¡°Harald, how long is this stretch ahead of us? Is this where the wolves are? And the car?¡± I ask. ¡°Yes, this is where I spent about two weeks in the trees,¡± he replies, his expression distant. I assume he¡¯s having flashbacks, judging by his sudden sadness. ¡°Mr. Nilsson, you mentioned six-legged wolves before. Is that for real?¡± Astrid calls out from behind, raising her voice. How the heck did she hear us? I wonder if this has something to do with her new ability or if she just has good hearing¡ªor clean ears. ¡°To be honest, I¡¯m not sure anymore. Those weeks were brutal, and I can¡¯t say for sure. Some of them must¡¯ve had six legs¡­ or maybe not? Sorry, girl.¡± He offers the best answer he can, his mind clearly wandering in the past. ¡°If their carcasses are still there, I¡¯ll investigate. You can¡¯t miss it,¡± he adds. ¡°It¡¯s a large pile.¡± As we walk deeper into the forest, it gets darker despite the bright sun. The trees¡¯ crowns are tall and dense, letting only a few rays through. ¡°I¡¯m going to sleep alone tonight,¡± the red-haired girl says suddenly. *Snap* Fluffy white Pocco appears. She used to summon him before bed for comfort, but now she¡¯s calling him for a different purpose. I¡¯m glad she¡¯s using him for more than just cuddling. Oh boy, I hope he won¡¯t talk to me now. Or maybe this will prove my mind is playing tricks on me. She holds Pocco close, whispering something to him. The cat flies off to the right at super speed, leaving behind only a trail of glowing dust, which quickly disappears. In about a minute, Pocco returns, rubbing his face against hers in a comforting manner, then poofs into a glowing sphere of dust, ignoring everyone else. I keep repeating ''twenty-two'' in my head, just as my mom taught me. She always said it''s exactly as long as one second. He disappears precisely at the minute mark¡ªno more, no less. ¡°We¡¯re safe,¡± she says. And so am I. The cat didn¡¯t interact with me this time. Maybe he was too busy scouting and didn¡¯t want to waste his limited time chatting with me. I trust them both, which gives me confidence as we make our first steps deeper into the forest. Harald walks beside me, and the couple follows behind, as usual. Each step I take, I look at the massive tree trunks. They¡¯re majestic, thick, and wide. As we go deeper, the branches become more crooked, growing outward from the base of the trees. This place should be haunting, but it reminds me of my childhood. Wide, sprawling tree crowns like these were playgrounds for me. I remember when we used to go to parks during PE class. Similar trees were everywhere, and we¡¯d climb the thick branches that started close to the ground. Climbing higher was banned, of course, and only the class rebels did it. The teachers scolded them, but the girls liked them. I wasn¡¯t one of those kids. I stuck to the farthest tree allowed, my little place of solitude. ¡°Boy?¡± I hear Harald call from a distance, snapping me out of my thoughts. I stop, feeling a bit awkward. I immediately change course and walk back toward him. ¡°Do you zone out often, boy? It could get you into serious trouble,¡± he says with a sigh. I hear Mike chuckle from behind, and a flash of negative energy surges through me. Damn, I¡¯ve heard that way too many times before. I hope Harald doesn¡¯t notice my clenched fists. I glance at him, but he¡¯s busy scouting the area. We must be close. ¡°I was just thinking about the past, and...¡± Harald isn¡¯t paying attention. He stops, turns in place a few times, then looks up into the trees. He might be fit, but he looks like a lost old man with Alzheimer¡¯s right now. ¡°There, there!¡± he says. The couple joins us as Harald points to the treetops. A dirty yellow piece of cloth is hanging with a few ropes attached. ¡°Shame on me for not recognizing this place sooner. After all that time, it should be etched in my memory,¡± he explains. ¡°You said you killed wolves from this tree? Not long ago. Where¡­¡± Astrid starts to ask, but Harald interrupts. ¡°¡­are the corpses? No traces at all. Something must¡¯ve taken or eaten them. Precisely and cleanly.¡± Fear flashes in his eyes as he glances around. I crouch down, touching the ground to check for any traces. It¡¯s dark, so I lie on the ground to get a closer look, scanning the terrain with my eyes. ¡°Mr. Nilsson?¡± Astrid asks, a bit frightened. ¡°Aren¡¯t we standing in¡­¡± Chapter 47 - Debugging
I step up and wait for the girl to tell us what she found, concern still lingering in my mind. ¡°Isn¡¯t this the wide furrow we¡¯re standing in?¡± I refocus my sight, and then it hits me hard. I look around, noticing that we are indeed in a wide furrow that circles around the trees, twisting through the dark forest. The soil in the furrow is packed and smooth, as if a massive snake or worm had leveled it. ¡°Not far from here is the desert,¡± the old man mentions, sounding even more worried. ¡°Are you thinking of the giant sandworm?¡± I suggest, my mind flashing back to scenes from the Dune movie. Before I can finish, a weird rattling sound starts up in the distance. Mike steps in, unsheathing his sabre, while the caring girl tightens his headband. But Mike loosens it right after, confusing her. He does it for a purpose¡ªhe¡¯s switching his eyes. His smaller, disfigured eye is now visible, and his healthy one is covered. The girl wonders for a moment why he did this and scoffs. But I already know. Mike is wielding a new power¡ªthe power of a hunting animal. I glance at Harald. ¡°So, it¡¯s that ugly eye¡­¡± Harald keeps nodding. ¡°Sssh,¡± Mike shushes me as he begins spinning, scanning the area. When he turns toward me, I feel a shiver run down my spine. ¡°Jeez, what an ugly motherfucker,¡± I whisper to myself, unaware that the old man might hear me. *Cough* *Gulp* He chokes on his own saliva, trying to stop the laughter that¡¯s about to burst out¡ªprobably from what I just mumbled. At least no one else heard me. If Mike had, he¡¯d probably come at me with a fierce, ¡°Is my disfigurement funny to you?¡± That would only make things worse, having to look into that peculiar marble eye up close. ¡°There are moving colors in the distance. All around us. Weird outlines of creatures,¡± Mike mentions. Astrid moves closer to me and Harald. ¡°Is his new eye detecting the enemies?¡± she asks. ¡°Boy, check us. Are we outlined too?¡± Mike turns toward us, squinting with his small, wrinkled, sagging eyelid. ¡°Yep, all of you.¡± ¡°I guess it¡¯s the heat signatures. But no time to explain more,¡± he says, nodding twice while pointing toward the track behind us. We all turn to look, but there¡¯s nothing to see. The rattling of branches blends into the forest¡¯s background noise, making it impossible to pinpoint where something might be approaching. ¡°This one¡¯s moving faster than any of the others.¡± ¡°But what is it?¡± Astrid asks, growing more annoyed. ¡°Mmm, I don¡¯t know. A big round something, like a ball with some moving horns?¡± ¡°You¡¯ve got to be kidding me. A sandworm? How big?¡± The old man fires off questions, clearly agitated. ¡°Nah, not that big,¡± Mike replies, showing with his hands. It¡¯s about the same height as Astrid. ¡°I repeat: You¡¯ve got to be kidding me!¡± The old man says angrily, pulling out a glock from his inventory. He cocks the gun and takes a defensive stance. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. I follow suit with my hammer, and so do the girl and Mike. We stand with our backs together, forming a circle in the middle of this strange scene. ¡°It¡¯s close enough,¡± Mike says, then rearranges his headband, uncovering his normal human eye. Phew, at least I won¡¯t be distracted by that unsettling eye anymore. The sound of crackling leaves and the rolling of something draws nearer, now much clearer. But what the heck? A large brown ball, about the height of Astrid, with a rough texture, approaches us. The old man squints and tilts his head, trying to make sense of what he¡¯s seeing. He doesn¡¯t have a single clue. Is it a living ball? *Fwoosh* An arrow strikes the ball, sinking in about a fourth of its length, but the ball continues to roll, breaking the arrow against the ground. What a waste. We split into pairs, moving away from the ball. *Mike bursts into uncontrollable laughter.* That finally reveals what the enemy is. Dung Beetle, Level 39 Mike¡¯s laughter cuts off as abruptly as it started. Dung beetles are funny, sure, but a level 39 dung beetle? That¡¯s no laughing matter, especially with the rattling sound coming from all around us. Mike had seen more of them. ¡°How many outlines did you see in total?¡± The old man asks, his voice rising in urgency. ¡°I don¡¯t know, about nine or more¡­¡± Before he can finish his sentence, the beetle extends its glossy black chitin shell, its backside shimmering with a colorful gradient. Two pairs of white mesh wings begin to rattle, producing an obnoxious, high-pitched sound. The beetle is fast, sharp, and precise, despite its small size, which is about the size of a large dog. As it moves from the ground position, rolling its dung ball, I realize I¡¯ve underestimated it. I expected something slow but powerful, based on the size and weight of the dung ball¡ªan opponent I could smash with my hammer. But this creature is both small and fast, making it hard for me to hit. Let¡¯s see how this plays out. I crouch behind the dung ball, touching it with my left hand. The surface is dry and rough, surprisingly odorless. My surprise attack has to work! I channel all my strength into my back and my still-scarred right hand. I crouch slightly, preparing for the strike. The weathered wooden handle of my hammer digs into my fat palm. *Bang* Just before I can land my blow, I hear a gunshot. Harald is doing his part, aiming for the beetle¡¯s head. The high-pitched rattling of its wings is cut in half as its health bar drops by at least one-fourth. *Bonk* I follow through with my swing, a sweeping undercut from the bottom right. My hammer connects with a fair amount of strength, and the bug is knocked back a few meters. My senses are sharper than ever. I take advantage of the moment, regulating my Focus with precision. Without any braces, my forearms might explode under the strain. The shiny hammerhead slams into the beetle¡¯s thick, black chitin shell. The outer layer cracks but doesn¡¯t shatter¡ªit¡¯s still holding together. The bug is chaotic, moving in erratic patterns. Its wings are likely damaged from Harald¡¯s shot, causing it to wobble and struggle in midair. My hit didn¡¯t deplete much of its health bar, but it¡¯s something. One more blow in the same spot will be fatal, I¡¯m sure of it! ¡°I¡¯ll handle this!¡± I shout confidently to the rest of the crew. Two more bugs have already closed in, and Mike and Astrid are switching their focus to new targets. Harald is no longer wasting bullets on my beetle. I repeat my swift attack, striking the same spot. My hammerhead punctures the bottom of the beetle, and a stream of white, glue-like substance starts flowing out. The stench hits my nose hard as the beetle screeches and writhes. Its health bar disappears in a blink¡ªI know the kill is mine. No time to inspect the carcass. More bugs are closing in, and we¡¯re slowly backing toward the ravine behind us. I glance over at Mike and Astrid, who seem to be struggling. Fast arrows aren¡¯t strong enough to puncture the beetle¡¯s shell, and its chaotic movements make it nearly impossible to hit its wings. Astrid is almost out of arrows and begins running toward the ravine and the rocky cliffside. Mike manages to stab his beetle in the wing, grounding it. He¡¯s fearless, but when his Sharpen skill goes on cooldown, the beetle strikes back, scratching his body with its sharp legs and mandibles. Harald steps in to protect them both. He tries to shoot the beetle in the head, but its frantic movements cause him to miss. Another shot lands in the wing cavity, but it¡¯s still not enough to bring it down. ¡°The opening! Get inside!¡± Astrid yells, standing near a crack in the rocky ravine wall. ¡°Go! I¡¯ll finish this!¡± I shout as I see the bullet-damaged wing. ¡°Come on! Just land already!¡± I taunt the beetle, pumping up my arms as I stand in front of the crack in the wall. *Thud* The beetle finally decides to land, sprinting toward me. I swing my hammer down from above, aiming for its head. Yes! A direct hit! I think triumphantly. But my smile fades fast as my hammer slides off, barely leaving a scratch on its armored head. Six more beetles are rattling in the distance, flying straight for us. ¡°Come on, damn it!¡± the old man shouts, gesturing for me to hurry inside the ravine. *Thud* *Thud* *Thud* Chapter 48 - The Hammer and the Anvil
Three bugs slam together into the crack in the wall while I barely manage to slide in, exhaling and flattening my stomach as much as possible. *Bonk* ¡°Aaaaargh! You¡¯ve got to be fucking kidding me!¡± One of their horns slips through the slit and bonks me right on my left knee. I limp to the side. The horn gets stuck inside the crack afterward, and the other bugs are ramming into each other, likely causing some damage, as their wings seem to be their weakest point. We¡¯re lucky these bugs are too wide to get through. None of them are able to squeeze in due to their exoskeletons, which can¡¯t retract. ¡°Mark! You alright?¡± the caring girl asks me. ¡°Hold it!¡± I yell at Harald to grab the horn, ignoring Astrid. ¡°I double dare you to miss,¡± he warns me as he pulls the bug inside by its horn. His veiny arms grip the small, shiny horn tightly, pulling it inward. It must be the one that''s nearly dead, with broken wings¡ªthe one that was shot¡ªsince it¡¯s not even trying to fly. The other two bugs are buzzing, and more are incoming. I aim precisely where to strike. *Smash!* followed by a *Crack*¡ªthe kind of sound I imagine breaking bones would make, or maybe something like stepping on crunchy debris, but much louder and far more gruesome. The bug¡¯s horn shatters, and a piece of its head where it was connected rips off too. Harald is knocked back and slams into Mike. A loud *thud* echoes, probably from the heavy bulletproof vest Harald is wearing. I totally forgot to put mine on this morning, but with my luck, I should have just worn knee protectors. I clench my fist, and anger surges through me as I remember all the enemies we¡¯ve fought. From that stupid marten whose claws I can still feel, to the nutria that slammed into my knee, the turtle that bit it, and finally the monkey that latched on. And now, this damn beetle. My left knee had barely rested for a single day¡ªone stupid day. If those longneck zombies somehow manage to attack it next, I¡¯m going to start believing it¡¯s cursed. *Ding* I sigh and calm myself. All the power I had shifted retracts back to where it belongs. At least something¡¯s going right. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, boy. You alright?¡± Old man asks Mike. ¡°Yes, it¡¯s fine,¡± Mike replies. *Flick, flick, flick, flick, flick* *Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz* *Flick, flick, flick, flick, flick* *Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz* Astrid takes out the manual, pump-up flashlight she received from Harald and shines it into the space. ¡°Why don¡¯t you offer each of us a berry, so we don¡¯t have to squint and use flashlights the whole way?¡± Harald remarks. I know why he¡¯s so eager to try it. When we were exchanging info earlier, he was more than curious about the berries. ¡°We¡¯ll go for a night hunt one day, but trust me¡ªyou don¡¯t want to try them now. Once we get out of this crack, you¡¯ll be blinded,¡± I explain. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. ¡°This isn¡¯t just a crack. I see a large cave at the end of the tunnel,¡± Mike notes, right after swapping his headscarf from his human eye to the cursed one. ¡°I know what you¡¯re all thinking, so here you go.¡± I open my inventory and take out the deformed silver pitcher, offering a handful of berries to Astrid, Harald, and Mike. Harald takes them immediately and fidgets, trying to hide them in one of his pockets. ¡°When I need one, I¡¯ll know where to find it,¡± Astrid reassures me. ¡°I¡¯m fine as well. I see perfectly in the dark,¡± Mike says, lifting his chin confidently. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯ve got your permanent berry,¡± Harald quips, making Astrid chuckle. I chuckle along with them. ¡°Very funny,¡± Mike scoffs. ¡°There¡¯ll be a time when you¡¯ll ask me for help.¡± ¡°Just kidding, boy. Come on,¡± Harald apologizes. *Flick, flick, flick, flick, flick* *Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz* Now both Astrid and Harald are pumping their flashlights, illuminating the way ahead for us. Mike leads, claiming that he can see perfectly. *Chaotic whistling* Mike whistles from the end of the corridor where we can now see the massive cavern. ¡°Seems like there¡¯s nothing special. Just one statue,¡± his voice echoes. ¡°Oh god,¡± I mutter, imagining yet another statue ready to crush me. Harald points his flashlight straight ahead, lighting up the tunnel. Astrid, on the other hand, waves her light all over the place, scanning the walls and ceiling, it makes me dizzy. It¡¯s a rather dry cave¡ªempty and quiet. It feels cozy, actually, with no draft or sound from outside. The bugs must¡¯ve lost interest in us and returned to rolling their balls. I want to make this moment even better for myself¡ªmaybe level up and upgrade¡ªbut I don¡¯t like doing it on the way, like Mike does. ¡°Ugh.¡± A shiver runs down my spine as Astrid¡¯s flashlight sweeps over Mike, who is now facing us. His silhouette in the distance, with his wrinkled and disfigured eye, is unsettling for a moment. I really should have taken that berry. Despite everything having a cold blue tint, it¡¯s far less haunting than a flashlight cutting through unknown space.
Finally, we make it through the tunnel and into the open area. In the middle stands a fairly large stone statue. ¡°Are those candles?¡± Astrid asks, pointing her light toward the cave walls, over large rocks and formations. The walls are covered with candles, which were once lit. There are minimal spiderwebs, vines, or water stains. ¡°Should I light them?¡± Harald asks. ¡°Yes, please!¡± Astrid responds, a bit excited. Harald pulls out one of the many lighters from his vest, which is covering the bulletproof plate underneath, and lights a single candle before stowing the lighter away. ¡°That¡¯s it? One is enough for you?¡± Mike questions. ¡°Have you seen any supermarkets or lighter fluid around here?¡± Harald retorts. Mike falls silent. Astrid grabs the candle and begins lighting the others. I quickly join her, helping to spread the fire. Harald grabs a candle as well, while Mike is already busy observing the statue¡ªor more like harassing it. He climbs onto the pedestal and pokes the statue of a bulky man. As Astrid lights candles at three times the speed of Harald and me, the beauty of the statue starts to emerge. It¡¯s a statue of a bulky man with strong features, long hair, a beard, and two large horns on top of his head, facing downward. I¡¯m not sure if it¡¯s supposed to be a helmet or if it¡¯s not a human at all. The man stands in a strange stance, like he¡¯s about to smash something in front of him, but his right hand is empty. Whatever he¡¯s about to smash, I can¡¯t identify yet because Mike is sitting on it, completely covering it. ¡°Mikey! Get off!¡± Astrid scolds him. As he moves to the side, I spot a familiar object¡ªa huge anvil. ¡°A statue of a blacksmith?¡± Astrid observes. ¡°Yes, but he¡¯s missing a hammer,¡± Mike adds. With all the candles lit, the cave radiates positive energy. The flickering of so many flames adds a lot to the atmosphere. ¡°So, this is it?¡± I ask Harald. ¡°Some sort of hidden church, or what?¡± I add, as Mike switches his headband to uncover his human eye. ¡°Indeed, very strange. This is something people would do, not animals. But so far, there¡¯s been no sign of normal people¡ªbesides that knight of yours,¡± Harald ponders. ¡°Great, nothing to do here. Let¡¯s head out,¡± Mike says, already walking toward the fissure we squeezed through. ¡°At least take some candles, or snap a picture,¡± old man laughs. I approach the statue and notice the hand where the hammer is supposed to be¡ªit¡¯s shaped as if a hammer would fit perfectly into it. Maybe I should try placing mine there, just out of curiosity. I climb onto the pedestal and then onto the anvil itself. It¡¯s about the size of a regular dining table. ¡°Markus?¡± Harald asks, while Astrid keeps her eyes on me. ¡°Don¡¯t mind me. Just goofing around,¡± I say. I pull my hammer out of my inventory again, barely able to reach as I stretch up on tiptoe. *Click* I grunt after finally inserting it into the statue¡¯s hand. ¡°How are you going to get that down now?¡± Harald shakes his head. ¡°Mortals! Ha, ha, ha, ha¡­¡± ¡°I can¡¯t believe it, after all this time!¡± My foot slips from the anvil, and I land hard on my butt on the pedestal. Chapter 49 - Rewards ¡°What the fuck! What the fuck!¡± I whisper with a trembling voice, shaking all over. I roll away from the pedestal, smashing my back on the rocky cavern floor. ¡°Ouch!¡± Dammit! I double dare you to touch me. Fucking statues, you can never trust them. ¡°Everyone is hearing that, right?¡± the old man asks, a bit frightened, standing in a defensive position, chaotically aiming his gun around. ¡°Yes, yes!¡± I answer him while dragging my ass along the cave floor. ¡°My followers! I thought you were all hanged and abandoned meee. So I was wrong! Ha, ha, ha, ha..¡± says the extremely cheerful voice echoing through the cave, emanating from the statue. Despite the tone of the voice being cheerful and warm, I can barely stand up and pull myself together. ¡°Hmmm? What is it? An offering! Beautiful!¡± The cheerful, warm voice echoes from the statue, and my hammer disappears into thin air. ¡°No. No. No. What the fuck! No!¡± I yell, staring at the statue. ¡°Boy, what have you done?¡± the old man shakes his head. ¡°What¡¯s wrong, my little friend?¡± the statue asks. ¡°My weapon! Give it back!¡± I yell at it. ¡°You made an offering, didn''t youuu?¡± ¡°No! I was just goofing around!¡± I reply. ¡°What the hell even are you?!¡± ¡°Meee? You don¡¯t know? So you are not my follower then?¡± ¡°I guess not,¡± I answer cautiously. ¡°A godling, Pyrios. Welcome to one of my shrines! Ha, ha, ha, ha..¡± ¡°Mm, okay,¡± I reply. ¡°So, not a follower, you say? Hmmm, I need more followers.¡± ¡°What the fuck is this? Some desperate Instagram ¡®influencer¡¯ reincarnated as a god?¡± I turn to the party, frowning. Mike and Astrid chuckle. Is he intentionally talking, laughing, and acting childish? How should I even talk to it? I wonder while gazing at the statue, finally calming down, as I no longer feel threatened. ¡°That¡¯s all great! Now, can I have my hammer back?¡± ¡°Do you want to become one?¡± the voice asks. Astrid, Harald, and Mike keep muttering with each other in the background. ¡°Become what? A follower?¡± I ask, raising an eyebrow. ¡°Yeees! You can have a blessing then!¡± Pyrios answers, with a high-pitched intonation at the end of each word. ¡°Well, I¡¯d rather like my hammer back,¡± I answer. ¡°With my blessing, you can smith fine weapons yourself,¡± a resonant voice answers me. ¡°I¡¯m not a blacksmith, and even if I was, I don¡¯t have a forge, I don¡¯t have an anvil, and mostly, I don¡¯t even have a hammer! Because someone took it from me!¡± I argue. ¡°Hmmmm. Free my followers, and you can have your offering back!¡± he cheerfully offers. ¡°And where are your followers then?¡± I ask. ¡°An evil wizard apprentice enslaved them, then hanged them in a forest of his,¡± he continues, with a suddenly sad tone. Evil? If this thing classifies something as evil, that apparently is evil, he must be pretty sane. I speculate. ¡°Hanged? Do you think it was¡­¡± I look back at the couple. Astrid is nodding, and Mike is assuring me with his healthy eye. ¡°How do you imagine freeing them could be done if they are dead?¡± I ask carefully. ¡°Free their bodies or free their spirits! Either act, and your hammer is back! And maybe even a blessing for the smiths. Ha, ha, ha, ha¡­¡± If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°What if I tell you they are free?¡± I ask cautiously again. ¡°My followers?¡± he asks, cheerfully. ¡°Both the spirits and the bodies, and one extra.¡± I answer confidently. ¡°Who¡¯s the one?¡± he asks, with an eager tone. ¡°The wizard.¡± I don¡¯t even wait for more questions. Opening my inventory, I take out two halves of the rope and throw them on the ground. ¡°Hmmmm. Give Pyrios some time,¡± he answers, and suddenly we feel no presence of the voice in the cave. ¡°What do you think?¡± I turn back to them and ask in a lowered voice. ¡°I think it¡¯s going well so far,¡± Harald notes, while nodding. Astrid agrees. ¡°Ask about that blessing,¡± Mike adds. Astrid pulls on his jacket again. We sit and wait quietly.
I sigh after waiting for a few minutes. ¡°Do you think this was a mistake? What if he bailed?¡± ¡°What sort of god is this, that is so uninformed and limited?¡± I ask openly. ¡°He said he''s a godling,¡± notes Astrid. ¡°I don¡¯t even know what that mea¡ª¡± I turn around quickly, facing the statue again. ¡°My brothers confirmed! You are telling the truth.¡± ¡°You have brothers?¡± I wonder. ¡°Yeeees. Godlings we are, from the realm of spirits.¡± ¡°How many brothers do you have?¡± I ask. ¡°Sixteen! Ha, ha, ha¡­¡± I look back at the three curious figures in the back. Harald gesticulates by shrugging his shoulders.
"You were telling the truth and indeed exceeded all expectations! I will reward you with a great enchantment, or even a blessing, if you waaant?¡± He keeps offering me his smithing blessing, with an even more cheerful voice. I think if I had to listen to him all the time, I¡¯d get very angry at his voice and intonation that gets annoying after a while. Well, if "a while" was one second long. ¡°Thank you. Enchantment and my hammer is enough,¡± I refuse his blessing once again. ¡°What kind of enchantment?¡± I ask. ¡°I can make your weapon bigger or smaller, lighter or heavier, or even more sturdy or deadlier. Choose whatever! Ha, ha, ha, ha¡­¡± I can¡¯t believe my ears. Am I facing another freedom of choice? The luck was on my side, and I acquired the option to tailor my own skill. I bet there were gazillion better skills to come up with that would pair with my strength, but I was short on time and in a stressful situation. I shouldn¡¯t rush this; I need to think it through carefully. ¡°Can I have more time to decide?¡± I ask the statue of godling. ¡°You¡¯re the one getting older! Ha, ha, ha, ha¡­¡± ¡°And what do you have for us?¡± Mike asks. ¡°Did you fulfill my requests? I think not,¡± the godling answers. ¡°Harald, help me with this, please,¡± I turn to the old wise man and ask for advice. ¡°Bigger or smaller? For what reason is that good?¡± I ask. ¡°Nothing comes to my mind. Bigger might be heavier, but clumsy to manipulate with. Small and light, sounds counterproductive.¡± He notes, while looking at the ceiling touching his chin. ¡°Sturdy? A hammer? Besides the handle, there is nothing more to do. How more indestructible could a massive metal cube be?¡± he adds, his eyes wandering in the distance. ¡°I can¡¯t imagine a hammer being deadlier. Adding spikes?¡± he speculates. ¡°You better be getting something tailored for yourself,¡± he suggests. I exhale and sigh. Closing my eyes while sitting on the rock, I think of all the possibilities. I look at my right hand, close the fist, and check the bruises and stretch marks on my forearms. ¡°Maybe my hammer could adjust to my power?¡± I gaze into the distance, evaluating.
¡°Yes. That might be it!¡± I get up after a while and turn back to the statue. ¡°Make my weapon so that it adapts to my strength in terms of weight, and maybe make it a little bit bigger?¡± I ask. ¡°Hmmm? Interesting choice. Your weapon will always feel the same for youu, no matter how strong you are.¡± *Ding* "Err.. That wasn''t the.." I point my finger up, but stop right after after the hammer appears in the cloud of golden dust on top of the anvil, standing on the hammerhead, facing the handle upwards. ¡°Wow,¡± Astrid whispers. Overall, it seems a bit larger than before and super clean and shiny. I tediously climb the pedestal where the statue is and touch the hammer handle. Without using my power-shifting ability Focus, I pick it up with ease. The hammerhead makes a satisfying sound like it was very heavy as I lift it from the stone-carved anvil with ease. I raise it to my head level in an instant and wobble it around. I let it drop and raise it again, spinning it in my hand and picking it up with my left one. I swing it in the air a few times, then hold it with just my fingers, facing down, avoiding gripping it tight with my palm, fingers only. Harald is curious and relocates closer to me. Astrid and Mike are standing a bit farther back, chatting. Mike stays there, leaning against the cavern wall, gazing at the statue, clearly thinking. I loosen one of my fingers from the grip. Nothing changes for me. I try another finger. Nothing again. Another one lifted and I swing it in front of me. Harald leans forward and squints. The hammer seems to get lighter the more I should struggle to hold it. There¡¯s no way I should be able to swing it around using just two fingers. Yet I don¡¯t feel any difference; to me, the hammer feels the same weight. So the less power I give it, the less it weighs? And the more, then... I grip it tightly in my palm, flex my bicep, and suddenly open my palm. *A loud thud echoes through the cavern* ¡°Sooo? How do you like it, my new follower?¡± ¡°It¡¯s great! But I didn¡¯t agree to being a follower¡ªblessing for smithing has no use for me.¡± ¡°Really? Too bad, I guess.¡± He answers with a sad tone. ¡°Thank you, godling!¡± I bow slightly, expressing my gratitude. ¡°The thanks should be mine. Don¡¯t forget to help my brothers when you come across them. You keep chatting with my brother''s pet cat and ignoring his requests! Shame! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha¡­¡± Ah, fuck. Chapter 50 - Jerk The voice in the room and the presence of the deity is once again gone, just like a while before when he was checking up with his brothers. We are alone. I turn around with my head bowed. ¡°Markus?¡± Astrid gives me the look. They don¡¯t even have to investigate yet, I believe my eyes are screaming guilty. ¡°What was the godling talking about?¡± she asks. Mike is grinning. ¡°What pet cat were you talking to?¡± She asks now, a bit confused. ¡°Was it Pocco?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± I answer after a pause. ¡°When? The one minute he has, he is always in my presence.¡± She shakes her head. ¡°Boy Mark. What are you hiding from us?¡± Harald joins in. Mike stays quiet. ¡°Pocco knows how to talk. And he spoke to me twice. But I swear! I swear I thought I was having a vivid dream, nothing else,¡± I¡¯m trying to explain. ¡°But when? How did he even appear?¡± *Snap* She snaps her fingers, but nothing happens, as she already summoned him this day to scout the area for the volves and bugs. I look into her eyes sadly. Dropping my new hammer on the ground with a *thud*, I raise my right hand at eye level. ¡°No, this can¡¯t be...¡± she mutters. Mike opens his one eye, wide open. *Snap* I snap my fingers in front of my face. *Poof* Pocco appears in the white cloud dust, exactly as he does with Astrid. He scurries around the cave walls and stops for Astrid. She pets him right away and he proceeds to scurry and then sits on her shoulder, meowing. *Meow* She almost sneezes as the white dust settles around her. ¡°I... I have no words.¡± ¡°For how long do you even know this?¡± she asks. ¡°Not even a whole day,¡± I answer, and she raises her eyebrows, doubting. ¡°Eh, I mean the summoning by snap thing,¡± I add. ¡°I wanted to tell it to you, but I didn¡¯t believe the first time he appeared it was real.¡± ¡°Pocco. Were you speaking to Markus here? Do you know how to speak?¡± She turns her head, looking at him. He wobbles his tail over her back as she asks him. ¡°Meow.¡± ¡°Pocco! Tell me the truth.¡± ¡°Meow.¡± He acts like a regular cat. He seems a bit more intelligent and present, but he keeps meowing and purring. "What is he telling now?" She looks at me. "Nothing, he meows." I answer. ¡°What did he even tell you bofore, Mark?¡± She looks at me, with doubt. ¡°He told me to die the first time, and then he mentioned the statue yesterday. And he knows well I died gruesomely by the statue¡¯s hand. I thought he was kind of a jerk. So I ignored all this.¡± ¡°Mark!¡± She raises her voice. Mike almost rushes in, but Harald blocks him with his hand. ¡°Why do you not believe me?! Even the godling said so!¡± I turn on the spot, gesticulating, showing at the horned statue of a blacksmith. ¡°Pocco! Speak to me again!¡± The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.¡°Meow.¡± ¡°Come on, cat! You wanted something before, but now you ignore me?!¡± ¡°Meow.¡± ¡°Oh come on, the time is almost up! Don¡¯t be a jerk!¡± ¡°Mark, stop it!¡± Astrid yells at me. ¡°Boy, are you alright? Aren¡¯t you making this up?¡± Harald steps in. Mike is grinning, happy. ¡°You seriously don¡¯t believe me? Just after we spoke to the damn statue here and I summoned the jerk tomcat with a snap?! You are the ones that lost their minds!¡± ¡°Calm down, Markus!¡± Harald orders, while Mike and Astrid are both frowning and looking at me angrily. ¡°What the fuck!¡± I mutter. I should¡¯ve left them at night as I planned! I start to lose it. Closing my fists, my Focus is auto-activated as anger slowly emerges. My arms are starting to bloat. Now it seems, indeed, that I¡¯m the one losing it. Mike rests his hand on his sabre. He proceeds to slowly unsheathe it. ¡°Is this a fucking joke?!¡± I look at Mike, right into his only eye. My arms are bruised and covered in stretch marks, and using Focus is not helping them at all. I imagine what I would do if they started to attack me. If Mike slashed at me, I¡¯d definitely bash him with my hammer. Since it¡¯s enchanted, I¡¯d lift it with ease. My hands might detonate, but if the enchantment works as planned, I¡¯d smash him to pieces in one hit. But he might use his skill to dodge me easily. Then, I¡¯d waste all my power on that one strike, and without focus, in my current condition, the hammer would feel as light as a rubber toy. Harald would probably shoot me right away. Cold sweat starts to pour down the back of my neck as I stress myself with my imagination.
¡°Boys! Calm down! Both of you!¡± Harald steps right in between us, raising his voice a lot. *Whoosh* Pocco leaves Astrid¡¯s shoulder and scurries around, as his seconds are numbered. He stops in front of me, floating in the air. ¡°Meow,¡± he meows. Harald interrupts. ¡°See? Even Pocco himself is disappointed in what you two are doing.¡± ¡°Just admit you¡¯re a liar! And apologize to him for calling him a jerk,¡± Astrid yells at me while Pocco is floating in front of my face. ¡°Tomorrow.¡± ¡°Jerk.¡± *Poof* Only the white cloud is what¡¯s left.
¡°Bwhahahahahaha!¡± Mike bursts into laughter, dropping his sabre immediately on the ground. It clunks over the rocky floor of the cave. He almost falls down and has to grab Harald to maintain his balance. ¡°Pfffffffttt! Cough, cough.¡± Harald tries to hold back his laugh, but he blows fully in a second. ¡°Bwahahaha!¡± He laughs uncontrollably, revealing his perfect set of teeth again and Astrid is standing there with her eyes and mouth wide open. ¡°Now do you believe me?¡± I ask, trying to maintain a poker face. But watching a flying cat say ¡°Tomorrow, jerk¡± in his tiny voice and vocabulary was undeniably funny. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Markus. Deeply sorry.¡± Mike and Harald are still laughing, turned away from me. ¡°So, now that this is finally out, I can speak freely.¡±
¡°The first time he spoke to me, he told me, ¡®When dead, die,¡¯ or something like that. I was asleep and got a bit angry by that.¡± She nods, trying to understand. ¡°Then yesterday it was, ¡®Statue. Find.¡¯ I asked him why I can call him too if you¡¯re the owner.¡± ¡°He just repeated, ¡®Owner.¡¯ I tried to pull out of him if it was you or me, but he kept saying, ¡®Owner.¡¯¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know what to do now.¡± I look at her, shaking my head after all this nonsense. Harald stops laughing and turns to us. ¡°You can still call him every day and pull more info out of him.¡± He calms the situation with a simple solution. ¡°Just as he said, ¡®Tomorrow.¡¯¡± He adds. ¡°Jerk,¡± Mike turns around and looks at me, about to burst into laughter again, finishing Harald¡¯s sentence. Oh please, I wish they wouldn¡¯t call me names from now on. ¡®Tomorrow Jerk¡¯. What a lovely nickname, I say to myself. ¡°Listen, kids. It¡¯s getting dark outside, and we need to get a good sleep. The closest cave marker seems to be more than a few hours away.¡± He lectures us while struggling to keep the rolling scroll straight, looking at the maps. ¡°How do you know?¡± Mike interrupts him. ¡°I started in the desert, and it should be this area.¡± He points his finger at the poorly traced map. ¡°Mark this cave with a symbol of a statue or something. We might return here one day,¡± Astrid suggests. Harald opens the velcro-covered pocket on his chest and pulls out a pen. He hovers his hand over the map, searching for the estimated place to put the marker in. Astrid suggests, and he draws a simple marker of a statue with one stroke.
Harald pulls out his sleeping bag and Astrid does the same. I look around a bit stressed about where I should lay down. Should I go outside and gather something soft, maybe some branches and leaves? Harald unzips one part of his sleeping bag and offers it to me right after noticing. ¡°Take that. It¡¯s warm enough here, and these candles might warm it even more over time. Look how huge and wide they are,¡± he points at one. Astrid does the same and shares her half of the sleeping bag with Mike. ¡°Tomorrow we deal with the bugs, if they arrive again. Then we can visit that cave from the map. And lastly, we¡¯ll go to the desert. I have some business there to take care of,¡± Harald plans our day for tomorrow. ¡°Thanks.¡± I take the unzipped half from the old man and go to find my cozy corner with the flattest surface I can find. ¡°You can stay up, but I¡¯ll be gone. Look at my arms,¡± I announce and show him my bruised right forearm. ¡°Good, focus on healing these. We¡¯ll probably need your strength tomorrow, cracking some hard shells.¡± ¡°Tomorrow we speak to Pocco again!¡± Astrid cheers as Mike has to drag her to bed.
Everyone has their farthest corner of the cave. I chew on some cooked fox cubes from earlier and flush them with a sip of cold water. Before lying down on the thin mat and bonking my skull on the rocky surface, I blow out some of the closest candles to dim my space. "Sigh." Could¡¯ve been worse. Before finally falling asleep, I exhaust my body with another wave of testing my Focus. I warm my feet and try to control the power more naturally. It sometimes seems like it¡¯s automatically activated when I push my muscles over their limit. My right hand is so strained that even slightly closing my fist already requires support from the skill. I¡¯ll test my hammer more tomorrow. My attacks should be brutal! I say to myself while falling asleep with a smile on my face. Chapter 51 - Hard Shells Waking up first, the first thing I smell is the smoke from the extinguished candles. I stand up and start rolling up the mat Harald offered me yesterday. Carefully walking across the cave to avoid making noise, I place it next to him while he sleeps. What¡¯s a better way to start the day than spending my one skill point? It always gives me a bit of a spring as the burst of energy is released. This should be the equivalent of a cold morning shower. I want to start the day with a smile on my face. Not that not having to go to school isn¡¯t enough, but rounding those two numbers is pretty damn satisfying.
Markus Hale foreigner level 60
Strength 60 Focus [Bonus Skill]
Agility 3 no skill
Willpower 4 no skill
Endurance 6 no skill
Good! Examining my arms, I assume they are well-rested, but I must be careful. Some kind of speed-up healing should be my priority. Those ¡°green berries and snails¡± mentioned on that small paper¡­ I need to return to where we fought them and scout the area. Maybe that little jerk could help with the search. I chuckle to myself. Now I tiptoe away to the crack and squeeze out of the cave. My clothes catch on the coarse, sharp fissure as I squeeze sideways. The forest seems quiet, still asleep. Now, to finally test what I was waiting for all night. I wonder how to properly test that enchantment on my hammer. First of all, it adjusts its weight based on how much power I use to wield it¡ªgood. If I hold it with two fingers, there''s no strain on my arm at all, which I already know. I hold the hammerhead with my left hand and grasp the handle with my right. With just two fingers, I give the hammerhead a slight heft¡ªit feels light. Then, I channel Focus into my right hand, pushing it beyond what I assume is necessary¡ªthe stretch marks on my skin widen, almost as if my skin is about to tear. I heft it again with my left hand. Now it feels like holding a heavy dumbbell¡ªdefinitely a LOT heavier than normal. ¡°This will do!¡± I cheerfully say to myself. ¡°What will do?¡± Harald asks, squeezing through the fissure. ¡°Fuck!¡± I wince back, startled by Mike again. His head pops through the fissure above Harald. It''s Mike, with his headband switched. Again, that marble-black eye, deep like a black hole in the universe, ready to suck my soul. ¡°You won¡¯t believe me, but ready your weapons,¡± he says, gazing into the distance. ¡°How many?¡± I ask. ¡°A lot.¡± A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. ¡°Boys, the carcasses of the bugs from yesterday are gone!¡± Harald observes while squeezing through the crack. His chest pockets catch on the sharp, coarse rocky side. ¡°It seems these are the cleaners of the forest,¡± Astrid notes, peeking from behind. ¡°Vultures,¡± Harald nods.
I guess this fight will mostly be mine, as my hammer is capable of cracking these hard shells. Activating Focus, I stand firm, legs spread wide, ready for the bugs to attack first. With power like this, camping might be a good idea. I just need one dodge and one hit. Channeling a slight amount of muscle mass and strength to my right hand, I prepare for the swing. A bug flies straight at me, and I focus only on one spot¡ªthe spot where I think my hammer would perfectly lock in¡ªabove its tiny horn. *Bang!* I didn¡¯t even have to dodge. My hammer lands precisely on the spot. My grin fades immediately as I realize it didn¡¯t crack its head. The headshot I landed probably made it only super angry. I quickly analyze the bug¡¯s structure up close: super dense and hard, polished and slippery. Its black head, made of a thick shell, with eyes almost indistinguishable from the rest, gives it an alien-like appearance. The tiny horn on top is rock-solid and hard. It¡¯s like a small stump. Wait! Was it bigger than yesterday¡¯s bugs? Is it ripped off? I ask myself. It looks like it''s not fully grown yet. Or are these baby bugs? It can¡¯t be. Because if they are¡­ there could be a matron? Fuck, we are in an overpowered area again? At least I¡¯m over-leveled, but it¡¯s still not that easy. Or is this just the regular difficulty? I miss the days when I was smashing nutria heads¡ªcompared to this, I wasn¡¯t even scared.
Mike doesn¡¯t hesitate. While I observe the creature, he buries one of his sabers under the wing¡¯s cavity, cutting it off. This forces the bug to back off, revealing its weakest part¡ªits belly. *Bang!* Harald takes a quick shot at the exposed belly. The bug whines and tries to escape, white fluid leaking from the bullet hole. ¡°Hah, yeah!¡± The boys get excited after their first kill of an armored enemy. Another one is approaching. ¡°You think repeating this will work?¡± I look at Harald. ¡°If it does, we have a strategy for leveling up.¡± I prepare for another attack, channeling my power¡ªbut not too much. I¡¯d rather save it for when things get serious. *Bang!* My hammer strikes the bug, and it loses its momentum. Mike cuts off one wing, and Astrid takes a shot at the other, speeding up the process. *Bang!* One bullet and the liquid is leaking again. Harald definitely deserves to keep up with the couple at least. He deserves all the kills he just gained.
This strategy works, but not for long. Although Harald scores most of the points, the other bugs quickly learn from the ones we''ve killed. The new arrivals land on the ground, shutting off their wing covers. Mike and Harald withdraw from the battle after scoring a few more hits.
The bug, now aware of its weak spot, switches to ground position. It seems even more dangerous now. Six legs are more than enough to outrun us, and with nearly impenetrable armor? Dang it, they know what they¡¯re doing. Harald stops shooting altogether; as some of his bullets ricochet off the rock-hard, slippery head, posing a greater danger to us. Others get buried inside the thick, flexible shell, but the bugs don¡¯t seem disturbed at all. Not even their health bars show much change. Their shells are strong enough to absorb the momentum of the bullets. Are they relying on me to finish off the bugs? How is my hammer smash more powerful than a bullet? I bet Harald has bigger calibers than this small Glock. Not that I¡¯m dumb about weapons, but this one he uses seems like a gas airsoft gun.
*Bang!* Another strike lands on the alien-like head. The bug is stunned for a moment, and I swing my hammer again with perfect precision. It seems that the pressure is sharpening my senses. If they keep coming one by one, we might have a chance. I inhale deeply and *Bang!* land another hit above the tiny horn, which catches the hammerhead from slipping. The bug is grounded, yet its head remains almost intact. I feel that this hit wasn''t absorbed¡ªevery bit of force I delivered was applied. Yet it''s still not enough. The bug is constantly facing me head-on, and there''s no way I can reach its belly. Not even for Harald. Not even for Mike. Mike waves his saber in the air, backing up while protecting Astrid from the smaller bugs approaching. His saber clangs off their horns and shiny black heads. ¡°Darn it!¡± I¡¯m not thrilled about what I have to do, but going beyond my limit is, once again, necessary. I must still be under-leveled. Despite being level 60, I can¡¯t crack through them. I need more power¡ªnot just now, but in general. This weak body disgusts me. Yolo, then. I¡¯ll probably damage my arms beyond repair, but what¡¯s the worst that could happen? We die and start over? The only thing that concerns me is the pain! I let the power of Focus flow freely from my core, sucking and shifting the flesh from other parts of my body that aren¡¯t in use. I¡¯m once again disfigured. My head wants to push forward, but my body resists. I remember that moment when Mike got pulverized by the cripple. That image flashes before my eyes, and I feel my arms bloating. All I can imagine is detonating myself, making a mess, and saving no one. The fear of pain holds me back. Two or three more bugs are on the way, and I start to panic. Panic alternates with anger. ¡°I can¡¯t believe we¡¯re about to get wrecked by fucking bugs.¡± I say this out loud, angrily, through gritted teeth. ¡°Aaaaaaaargh!¡± I turn my head as I hear Mike screaming in pain. Chapter 52 - Bigger Caliber The party of additional bugs arrives, and now I¡¯m surrounded. Not only do I have to deal with the one that hopefully has a strong concussion, but now there are three more. None of the four bugs around me are flying, at least and that¡¯s good. I won¡¯t get dizzy and disoriented from that awful buzzing sound. But on the other hand, it¡¯s also a bad news. They¡¯re standing solid, with no openings for arrows or sabers. They¡¯re hiding their weakest parts¡ªbottoms and wing cavities. They know exactly what they¡¯re doing, protecting their vulnerabilities. I bet they¡¯re communicating with that high-pitched insect screeching as they move around in these weird, jerky motions, like toys in a stop-motion movie. Quick, awkward, almost like watching something on low FPS.
One bug suddenly leaves me and scuttles over to Mike. Before I even react and turn, its strong, chitin legs are digging into him with sharp claws. They tear into his skin, and he tries to shake it off, but no luck. Mike screams in pain as the claws pierce through his black jacket and sink into his flesh. The bug briefly opens its back plates, starts its wings, and propels itself forward. ¡°Harald!¡± I shout. *Bang* No hesitation, he quikcly aims with his glock and shoots, but it¡¯s too late. The bug shuts its wing shields after completing what it intended. Despite Mike standing tall, strong, and solid, the weight of the bug combined with forward propelling overwhelms him, and he crashes to the ground with a thud. The bug on top of him, hugging his body is so large, it covers his entire torso. *Bang* The old man shoots again, but at this point, he¡¯s just wasting ammo. For the first time, I see how these things attack. They don¡¯t bite¡ªthey ram and stab with their pointed front legs. If we weren¡¯t targeting their wings, I bet they could lift anything large even like humans, fly upwards and kill us by dropping us from the sky. I swing my hammer, keeping an eye on the situation. *Thud, swoosh, thud* I land a few hits on the three remaining bugs, keeping them distracted without overusing my Focus. My attacks aren¡¯t major, but they¡¯re enough to hold the bugs off and keep them from focusing on the others. Harald moves closer to help Mike, who¡¯s thrashing in pain, his headband slipping off. Oh boy. I can see his wrinkly part of the face already. He opens both of his eyes as he screams. After a few seconds, he passes out. ¡°Nooo! Mikey! Not now!¡± Astrid stops aiming her bow and yells, nearly throwing herself at the bug. The old man steps in front of her, blocking her way. ¡°Girl! Out of the way!¡± He blows air into his glock again like that¡¯ll somehow help, then closes his left eye and carefully aims at the bug, trying to avoid hitting Mike now. ¡°Mark! Hold the others!¡± he orders. But I¡¯m already swinging my hammer, my veiny arm working overtime as I aim to hit anything that moves. Maybe I can even break some of their shells. ¡°Dammit, girl! Move!¡± Harald shoves Astrid aside, and the bug latches onto Mike even more tightly. It presses harder, deepening his wounds. *Bang, bang, bang* If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Three consecutive shots, and the bullets sink deep into the bug¡¯s shell, as usual. But with so many bullet holes in one spot, the shell seems to weaken, letting some rounds through. The health bar is chipping away, but it¡¯ll take a few magazines to bring this thing down. I bet if Harald could fire a few rounds in exactly the same spot, he¡¯d eventually break through. But we can¡¯t risk those bullets going all the way through and hitting Mike. This is not a place where one should die and waste. I¡¯m feeling the pressure now as I see this, and power surges through me uncontrollably as I stress. To avoid random bloating and harming my body I rather force muscle mass into my back and right arm again. I grunt as I struggle to keep my Focus under control. It activates itself without me even thinking it. "Fuck! This is not a joke anymore!" My forearm is thicker than my leg at this point, and my back? I must look like a monster. I¡¯m at the same level of power, maybe even more, than when I fought the Exiled One boss. Definitely more¡ªI¡¯ve leveled up since then.
Harald¡¯s reloading, desperate for a solution. ¡°Use the big gun, Harald!¡± I yell. I wonder what else the old man is packing. He hasn¡¯t been very forthcoming, but I¡¯ve seen something that looks like a police shotgun. It¡¯d be smart to use something stronger now. If he¡¯s avoiding the shotgun, there are only two possibilities: either the spread might hit and kill Mike or even us, or that¡¯s all he¡¯s got¡ªjust a shotgun and a glock, nothing more. *Insect screeching intensifies* The other bugs around me suddenly seem to shift focus, deciding that Mike is an easier target. ¡°Switch, Harald! Leave that one to me!¡± I shout. I believe I can deal with it without hurting Mike. Not gonna lie, Mike probably deserves a slap or two, but not like this. Seeing him passed out with those wounds isn¡¯t exactly a thrill. Astrid is watching, bow drawn, waiting for an opening on the bug. She knows she¡¯s not much help right now, but I know she¡¯ll fire the second those back plates lift. Our eyes meet, and I can tell she¡¯s thinking the same. Harald finally listens to me and swaps weapons, though he hesitates. Maybe he really is low on shotgun rounds. The weathered glock disappears into his inventory, and out comes the big one¡ªa heavy, single-barrel shotgun. *Chuck-chuck* That legendary pump-action sound¡ªit¡¯s the first time I¡¯ve heard it in real life. *Loud bang* Even in the vast forest, the echo of that shot hits me hard, vibrating through my chest. Twice. Harald fires two consecutive rounds into one of the bugs. I expect an explosion, pieces flying everywhere, but instead, one of its limbs is blown clean off. It¡¯s a start. The bug struggles to move, its balance clearly off now. Standing on their back legs, the bugs prepare for a jump attack, but Harald gives them no time. *Chuck-chuck* *Bang* A direct hit to the bug¡¯s face isn¡¯t as effective as I thought it¡¯d be. The health bar shows about one-third gone, but it¡¯s clear this is going to take some work¡ªand ammo. Still, seeing that much damage tells me I can leave it to Harald. Now it¡¯s my turn. My forearms, thick as calves, grip the hammer tightly as I raise it above my head. That''s everything I¡¯ve got. Flesh, muscle mass, blood, and energy. Blood pools at the edges of my nails, and I know it¡¯s time to stop the power flow with a simple thought. Stopping seems easier when I¡¯m "relaxed." A fleeting thought crosses my mind: knowing Harald¡¯s shotgun can handle these bugs is a huge relief. There''s only one task to do now. *Bang* with a loud *Crack* My hammer cuts through the air, and my ultimate attack lands on the bug attached to the unconscious body. The back plates covering the wings fly off in two directions. Some parts shatter, but the most important part¡ªthe joints¡ªbreak. The joints were always the weakest link. Once they¡¯re gone, the wing covers blow away like car doors in an explosion. At least, that¡¯s how I imagine it. *Fwoosh* *Thud, followed by a squelch* ¡°Whoa! What the.." "Easy there Astrid!¡± I snap, but she¡¯s just helping. No need to be ungrateful. Astrid, no hesitation in her pale, red-haired self, fires an arrow straight into the squishy part of the bug¡¯s body. It looks like a giant grape¡ªsame color, same consistency. The bug releases Mike instantly and crawls away, dying. White goo spills out and leaves a trail, pushing the arrow out with it. Astrid rushes to Mike¡¯s side. A few more shots ring out, and I glance over at Harald. He¡¯s done with his bugs. The area around him is littered with pieces of hard shells, three dead bugs, and an old man standing straight, victoriously. His modern black shotgun points upward, smoke still escaping from the barrel. ¡°Markus!¡± Astrid shouts, and I turn quickly. There¡¯s one more bug, and it¡¯s approaching Mike¡¯s lifeless body on the ground. Astrid¡¯s bow is useless now. *Chuck, chuck* Harald reloads quickly. ¡°No, I¡¯ve got this,¡± I stop him with a hand gesture, confident I can handle it. I just need to hit the bug at the right spot again, blow off its wing covers. I channel my power, preparing for a strong blow as the bug scatters dirt, zigzagging toward me. I hope to smash it in the right place on the first try, but even if I don¡¯t, it¡¯s not a big deal. This is the last one. *Bang* ¡°Aaaargh!¡± My hammer hits the shell, but I¡¯m not the only one who¡¯s scored a hit. Suddenly, I lose my balance, a strong, dull pain surging through me. ¡°You¡¯ve got to be kidding me!¡± I shout through gritted teeth. Chapter 53 - Arrival The tiny yet hardened horn rams into my left knee. Again! It hits all the nerves and that exact spot. The dull pain surges all the way up, making me feel almost paralyzed. My brain just shuts down for a moment¡ªI definitely wasn''t here for a second. It feels like pulling the RAM stick out of a running computer. My already weak, bruised knee can''t take it anymore. I lose my balance and drop to one knee. The bug spins around after the hit and is ready for another attack. It¡¯s still on four legs, not the six anymore, but those hard, spiky chitin legs are a massive red flag for me. The next attack might not just be a dull ram into my face¡ªit could be the same type of attack that got Mike earlier. I can already picture those claws gouging into my eye sockets. Harald knows what¡¯s coming next. I''m down on one knee, eye level with the furious creature. If its next strike hits, it''s over for me. A direct hit to the face would be both fatal and gruesome. But, I guess I''m lucky to have him. The old man reacts quickly, swapping his shotgun for the glock once again. *Bang, bang, bang* Three or four quick shots slam into the creature¡¯s shiny backplate, forcing it to back away and shift its attention toward Harald. At least for the moment. But the health bar barely moves. The damage from those bullets is still negligible. The pain in my knee is unbearable. Taking more damage to the same bruised knee is more than enough to make me furious. I use the time Harald bought me to channel and focus my power again as it shifted away, while I got slammed. My rage should replace the dull pain. While Focus sucks away the the muscle mass and flesh from my bottoms an interesting idea sparks in my head. ¡°Yep, I¡¯m definitely collecting these,¡± I mutter. My knees will thank me later.
The first droplet of my blood drips from under the thumbnail of my right hand, splattering against the dark brown hardwood handle of my hammer. A second droplet begins to form, I halt the power down immediately. If I can control this that well, I might not end up destroyed as before. I swing my arm in a wide arc, building momentum, and I slam the hammer right between the bug¡¯s wing covers. *Bang* The same scenario repeats, and a wave of satisfaction starts washing over me. Like a car explosion, the wing covers blow apart, pieces flying in all directions. "Hell yeah!" I mutter victoriously. I don¡¯t rest, not even for a second. The hammer slides down, and I spin it again, this time with only the power that remains in my arm¡ªthe power that hasn''t been retracted. The hammerhead buries itself deep inside the now-exposed body, and white, creamy substance sprays out. ¡°Yuck.¡± I probably overdid it this time. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. But it doesn''t matter. The health bar is depleting at the same pace as the white liquid is draining. And as a cherry on top, I hear the notification. *Ding* I shake the hammer clean, wiping the disgusting liquid off the soaked handle, and I embrace the victory. Poor Mike is already awake, checking out the damage. I glance at his four wounds. The man must have some seriously thick skin and excellent blood clotting because the wounds are pretty deep, yet he¡¯s not bleeding at all. Harald is already pulling out the first aid kit, with Astrid assisting him. I lock eyes with Astrid, letting her know that I care about what''s happening and she does not think I¡¯m ignorant. But I¡¯m struggling with my own wounds, and my bloody fingers won¡¯t be much help in giving first aid right now. I need the points, like salt. Endurance, endurance, I repeat in my head, fantasizing about what possible skills and effects it could give me. Crazy scenarios start flashing through my mind. I¡¯m never quiet. Well, at least not in my head. People probably think I¡¯m some sort of quiet creep¡ªbarely talking to anyone, always staring into the distance, lost in the future, cringing at the past, but never truly in the present. Inside my head, though, it¡¯s a constant, bohemian party of thoughts, vivid and wild, hiding behind my poker face. Excitement and terror pulse through me, fear of experiencing pain and dishing out pain. Afraid of dying, yet here I am, sowing death and destruction. This wild mixture of emotions is coursing through me, clouding my perception of reality¡ªbarely controlled power, hungry for results. My brain wants to keep going, but my body protests. How long can I overwork my arms like this? I need to find a stable and easy source of experience points. I pull up my weathered sweatpants to reveal my left knee. My leg trembles as the dirty, light brown fabric peels away, pulling a few scabs with it. Blue, purple, and green hues paint my swollen knee. A crazy idea hits me: What if I could increase the blood flow there? Would it break down the bruises faster, or would I just end up with a blood clot? I wonder and decide to splash it with water first. I glance over at the bug¡¯s carcass as I think, searching for parts that could aid in my master plan: Knee protectors. Below its head, the bug has a thick, round part that looks like it could perfectly shield a knee. Now, I just need to figure out how to mount it and mold it a little. But first, I take a drink and cool off my bruises. I gently hold the plastic bottle and manage to twist the cap open. The water starts shaking violently inside, so I screw it back on quickly. Guess I can¡¯t even exhale. We¡¯re interrupted immediately. I know what it is. Everyone does. A loud rumbling echoes through the air, followed by the sound of birds squeaking and taking flight from the treetops. Mike, barely able to sit up, gasps for his weathered saber. None of us are dumb. We all know what this means. The matron. ¡°Hide behind the balls!¡± shouts Harald, as he crouches behind a massive dung boulder. I stifle a chuckle, trying not to look immature or dumb. I glance at Mike, and he¡¯s on the verge of bursting into laughter. I¡¯m not even mad. Astrid drags Mike behind one of the dung balls, but he refuses any help. Clenching his teeth, he withstands the pain. His wounds seem patched enough for him to barely move and hide with the help of his girl. I follow their lead while maintaining eye contact with Harald. The thudding gets louder, closer. One, two, three, four, five. Six thuds, rapidly approaching. Then a brief pause, followed by even louder thuds. The only thing I can imagine is a massive spider crawling toward us, which terrifies me. But deep down, I know it¡¯s just another giant bug. Harald¡¯s hands tremble as he carefully loads red shotgun shells into his gun. He slides the rest into a side pocket for easy access. ¡°Fuck me!¡± Mike mutters, leaning toward the dung ball and peeking from behind. His headband is pulled low, covering his normal eye. Guess he¡¯s seeing what¡¯s coming before the rest of us. ¡°Young man?¡± Harald asks, concern lacing his voice. ¡°Do you have enough ammo?¡± Mike responds, keeping his voice low. ¡°Harald?¡± I glance at him with a smile and raise my hammer, flexing in front of him. We¡¯re not alone in this. He¡¯s not the only one with correct weapons. I tense the muscles in my arms and shoulders, pushing them to make my body look as buff as possible.
The thudding stops right behind the dung ball where Mike and Astrid are hiding. I peek out cautiously from the side. ¡°Motherf¡ª¡± There it is. But what terrifies me even more is what¡¯s stuck to the dung ball as I notice it now. Is that fur? Strands of grayish and bloodstained fur hang from the ball, sticking out between chunks of flesh. I blink, realizing these must be the remains of the wolves Harald warned us about.
A black, shiny armored leg is buried deep into the ground, its pointed end piercing the hardened soil like a pillar. The bug is massive¡ªa full-grown adult version of the ones we¡¯ve been fighting. Six thick, sturdy legs support a body the size of an army tank. Its backplate is even thicker now, with a leathery texture. I scan its physique quickly but thoroughly. Its head looks like a cattle skull, but it¡¯s covered in glossy black, like it¡¯s been dipped in tar. Its eyes are integrated into the armor itself¡ªpitch black and likely impenetrable, just like the skull. Strong mandibles hang menacingly from the sides, ready to crush bone and flesh alike. But then my eyes are drawn to its most prominent feature. Chapter 54 - Toreador The two giant horns are sticking up on its head. One is smaller than the other. They are shiny, with a rough, bumpy texture that makes them feel incredibly strong and hard. On top of the creature lies the health bar, shining bright and steady, with a text above it: Rhinoceros Beetle, Level 60 Level 60? Guess we¡¯re even. Or... wait, no, how the hell could I forget? ¡°Stats,¡± I think to myself, and the window opens in my mind. I see one point. Insignificant, but still, there¡¯s no way I will wait another 50 or who knows how many levels to mix my own skill. 44 levels until I can get it, maybe. I summarize my stuff pretty quickly as the beast sniffs around. Maybe even less¡ªMike claims he got his at 40, but maybe he was lying.
Markus Hale foreigner level 61
Strength 60 Focus [Bonus Skill]
Agility 3 no skill
Willpower 4 no skill
Endurance 7 no skill
An insignificant upgrade to my endurance somehow makes me feel like my bruised knee is a little better, as are my arms. Placebo or not, at least it lightens my mood a bit. Topping the creature by one level? We should at least be able to match its strength. And since the group is here too, we can compensate for the size difference. Well, at least the old man will help. I comfort myself with these thoughts while gripping my hammer with a sweaty palm.
Suddenly, the area brightens, as if someone switched on the lights in the middle of the forest. My head tilts up instinctively, seeing the rainbow of colors. ¡°Huh?¡± I peek from the right side of the boulder to take in the full picture. A few rays of sunlight slip through the canopy, reflecting off the bug''s multicolored, shiny armor. It¡¯s enough to light up the entire area. It reminds me of the galaxy projector I had at home. That thing would splash colorful beams of light across my ceiling, creating the perfect atmosphere. Now, those colors are being projected onto the surroundings, flickering as the armored bug moves and reflects everything. ¡°Nice. If we die here, at least it¡¯ll be a with style,¡± I mutter to myself while frowning. I can¡¯t get the thought of death out of my head¡ªmostly the idea of the pain that comes with it. But knowing I¡¯ve still got plenty of fingers left, I toy with the idea of going full YOLO. Though honestly, it¡¯s not even YOLO anymore. There¡¯s no time to dwell on it. Waiting for the bug to make its first move won¡¯t do me any good. I clench my teeth and start channeling my power again, my muscles fueled by the placebo effect that my arms are sturdier now. Muscle mass surges into my limbs, and in a split second, I decide to go for a jump attack. I remember my fight with the Exiled boss again, using what I learned from that experience¡ªchanneling power mid-air into my arms before landing a blow. This will be my strategy now. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. Maybe I can mount the bug and score some hits on top of it. That would be better than trying to attack its armored legs, which could easily stomp a hole in me. As I focus on the muscle, I glance briefly at Harald. He¡¯s crouching, gun ready, but not moving a muscle. A throbbing vein on his forehead shows me just how exhausting this crouched position is for him. A quick glance at Mike and Astrid¡ªthey¡¯re hiding behind the boulder, one trying to protect the other. The pressure is building just right. My calves burn with anticipation. It¡¯s time to peek out and position myself. A thought flashes through my mind¡ªwhy is the giant not attacking yet? The bug is moving around cautiously, avoiding the dung balls, and its loud footsteps are now echoing into the distance. What the hell? This cover isn¡¯t stealthy enough to evade detection. Maybe the bigger it is, the dumber it gets? I peek out from behind the boulder again, ready to jump, feeling like I¡¯ve got a diaper under my pants. The bug locks eyes with me, its stance now fully offensive¡ªlike an animal moments before a pounce. It reminds me of a cat, or a dog, or even a tarantula about to strike. No way. This can¡¯t be happening! I whisper to myself, eyes wide with fear. The behemoth suddenly surges with terrifying speed. The moment its massive, pillar-like legs dig into the ground, I know it¡¯s coming for me. It¡¯s too fast. My only reaction is to release all the tension in my legs and launch myself skyward. *Whoosh* I shoot up, nearly reaching half the height of the surrounding trees. The bug closes the gap between its horn and the dung boulder I was hiding behind in a split second. Its horn pierces the heavy, dry object like it¡¯s made of porcelain, shattering it into large chunks. I watch from above as I begin to descend. The longer horn remains solid and steady after smashing through the boulder, not even a scratch or dust on it. Its glossy surface reflects everything around it like nanoparticles. The view is equal parts awe-inspiring and terrifying¡ªa psychedelic, rainbow-colored beetle below me, and I¡¯ve got no time to think. The only thought in my mind: Don¡¯t drop the hammer, or it¡¯s over. My eyes dart, focusing on where I¡¯ll inevitably land. Please, not the horn! I clench my butt. As I fall, I see where I¡¯m going to hit. I will land squarely on the beetle¡¯s colorful armored back. *Bang* *Bang* Two consecutive shotgun blasts slam into the creature¡¯s side. In the same jerky, stop-motion-like way bugs often move, the giant beetle suddenly shifts its attention to Harald, completely ruining my landing plan. Fuck!¡± I grunt through clenched teeth as a dull pain radiates from my tailbone. With my left arm wrapped tightly around the beetle¡¯s massive horn, I find myself sitting awkwardly between the long and short ones. For a moment, I¡¯m just relieved I didn¡¯t get impaled. That was way too close. Phew.
The bug suddenly veers away from Harald, thrashing as it goes. If he hadn¡¯t dodged, it would¡¯ve been fatal. I don¡¯t give him much chance of avoiding a bull-like attack like that otherwise. Gripping the horn with my left arm, I know the only way I can avoid being thrown is to use my power. My body instinctively shifts muscle energy, tightening my grip. The bug lurches in every direction, violently shaking its head. The smooth, shiny surface of the horn doesn¡¯t help, but my sweat-drenched sleeve manages to give me just enough friction to hold on. My left arm is locked onto the horn, while my right arm flails around, gripping the hammer for dear life. My lower back is resting against the smaller horn. Wait, is it broken? I glance over my shoulder but can¡¯t see it clearly. Leaning back, I feel it bend under pressure. What the hell? Is it flexible? The horn has some give to it as I test it with my weight. I have no clue what¡¯s going on around me. All I hear are the distant screams of Mike and Astrid. I can¡¯t make out what they¡¯re shouting, but I know they¡¯re trying to tell me something. I¡¯m too overwhelmed to comprehend. *Bang* *Bang* another pair of shots from Harald¡¯s gun. *Chuck-chuck* the familiar sound of his pump-action reload, followed by another deafening *Bang*. He¡¯s relentless, firing shot after shot at the beetle. ¡°Harald!¡± I scream, terrified for my life as the bug thrashes even harder. ¡°Are you insane?!¡± I yell, biting my tongue in the process. ¡°Fuck! That hurts!¡± I think, swallowing saliva to assess the damage. I taste a little blood, but not enough to worry about bleeding out¡ªat least not yet. Why the hell is Harald risking hitting me too with its wide dispersion? I grip the horn tightly, frantically checking my body for any signs of injury to make sure I haven¡¯t been accidentally shot. *Bang* ¡°What the fu¡ª¡± I swallow more blood. "Can you just fucking stop?!" Is the health bar even going down? The bug kicks and spins even more frantically now. I want to check the health bar, but my head¡¯s spinning, and my vision¡¯s going blurry. This wild, unexpected rodeo ride is taking its toll on me. All I can do is cling to the horn, waiting for an opportunity to strike¡ªor flee. Suddenly, a dreadful buzzing noise rises from behind me, increasing in intensity. ¡°Oh god.¡± Chapter 55 - Vista Point Tremendous power is pressing me down and I don¡¯t need to hold myself so tightly anymore. The wind around me is so strong that my hair and all the loose clothes are waving like I¡¯m standing under an industrial blower. The blurred background is all I can see, besides the massive horn I¡¯m gripping for dear life. The buzzing¡ªit¡¯s overwhelming, a loud, constant hum that makes my ears ache. It''s all I can hear, pounding inside my head, irritatingly monotonous. "Just keep holding on," I remind myself, already fully aware of what¡¯s happening here. The beast is flying straight up. All kinds of scenarios are playing out in my mind. Is this thing going to fly me miles away from the crew? Or is it just going to shake me off, letting gravity finish me off? I can''t even figure out what I should do right now beside waiting it out. As I hold onto the horn, a wild thought crosses my mind: Should I try to rip it off or bend it? It might steer or stop the beast. But as much power as I¡¯m pumping into my arms, I know it''s useless. It¡¯s not just about raw strength here. It¡¯s about the material. The horn is practically indestructible. My arms would get torn to pieces before I could even budge it. The hardened yet flexible exoskeleton of the giant beetle¡ªit feels almost strong as carbon fiber or steel.
As the beast flies upward at incredible speed, the pressure on my head and hair is unbearable, and even my butt aches from being pressed against the saddle. With my Focus active, I channel more power into my right arm, gripping the hammer tighter while holding onto the horn with my left. An idea sparks¡ªI could use the hammer to divert the airflow and get some relief. It¡¯s time to lift it. The atmospheric pressure is making it difficult, and the enchantment is working against me. The hammer is unnecessary heavy, tailored to my strength, which I have to use even more because of the speed. I remember when the Exiled One boss pinned me down with his gravity manipulation. This doesn¡¯t feel that different. My bicep swells, my veins bulge, but my skin feels tighter. Maybe it¡¯s placebo, but it feels like I can handle the inner pressure better than before due to endurance. *Fwoosh* My arm is finally straight up, though my head is still forced down. Doesn''t work. The pressure is too intense to even look up. The bug isn¡¯t slowing at all¡ªit¡¯s still flying upward like a rocket, shooting through the sky. I lean back a little, settling against the flexible, bendy small horn behind my lower back. I¡¯ve got to get my bearings. Now that we¡¯re high enough, I can start seeing the bigger picture. The area¡¯s shrinking below me, and the blurred background behind the horn starts to crystallize into something clearer. A thick fog starts to roll in around us. We¡¯re so high up that clouds are forming all around me and I can feel the moisture on my skin, cool droplets clinging to my face. It¡¯s weird, but refreshing¡ªlike I¡¯m more alive up here. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. "Damn!" If this moment were caught on camera, I¡¯d have the perfect footage. Something I could throw on Instagram¡ªexcept I have no friends. Riding a giant beetle with a hammer raised in the air¡ªI mean, this is the stuff of legends. I almost feel like a superhero. But I quickly snap out of it. Stop it, brain! Focus.
If I¡¯m going to survive this, I need to know where I am. I peek to the right, glancing around the horn. The hills, forests, and even a few settlements are visible in the distance. Smoke rises from chimneys, which means there might be life down there. Maybe a place where we all can finally rest without everything trying to kill us. Tilting my head left, something else catches my eye. A castle¡ªit¡¯s thin and tall, sitting on a distant hill. The towers are sharp and pointy, kind of like Hogwarts, but this one¡¯s pitch black. The material looks like the same dark metal from that tower I once wanted to settle in. I focus on the castle, measuring it against the height of the nearby trees, memorizing its location. The size is so enormous I blame it on perspective. There¡¯s no way we didn¡¯t see it from the ground or the watchtower. I¡¯ll need to remember this spot when I¡¯m back on the ground, it might be an illusion. As the bug keeps climbing, my attention drifts downward. I glance beneath me. The sinkhole¡ªit¡¯s directly below now. From this height, it¡¯s even more terrifying, just a perfect circle of blackness. The sight gives me chills. What kind of hellhole could be lurking in that void?
The bug finally starts slowing down. No hesitation, but my mind already wonders if it¡¯s time to attack. My eyes drift to the wings. They seem like the easiest target, but if I destroy them, gravity will take us both down¡ªand, God forbid, we end up in that sinkhole. A shiver runs down my back. I need a smarter plan¡ªsomething that weakens the bug enough to force it to land without killing us. I focus on its head, searching for any kind of weakness. The armor covering its eyes looks like thick, tempered glass¡ªmaybe I can crack it. The glassy surface is slick with water droplets from the clouds.
Suddenly, a chill crawls down my spine, and goosebumps spread across my arms. Something feels off. I focus on the eyes again, and what I see makes my stomach turn. Beneath the glassy surface are these massive white, jelly-like orbs. Black dots shift and move around inside them, like they¡¯re swimming in goo. ¡°Fuck!¡± My stomach churns as the reality of it hits me¡ªthose are its eyes. The thing is looking at me, right through those gross, slimy sacks. Panic hits like a hammer, and I act without thinking. The black dots keep moving under the jelly-like surface, focusing on me. Watching. With a scream, I bring the hammer down with all my strength. The air rushes past, droplets of water flinging off the hammer as I smash it into the center of the glass. *Crack* A deep crack spiders out from the impact point. One more hit and I can shatter it. The bug freaks out, thrashing wildly in midair, trying to shake me off. I hold on tighter, letting the power flow through both arms. My muscles strain under the pressure, but I¡¯m not letting go. *Bang* following a *Crack* The second strike does it¡ªthe glass shatters. Shards fly in all directions, and what¡¯s underneath makes me gag. The bug¡¯s eye, a doughy white mass with black spots, rolls around in the socket, exposed. It¡¯s disgusting. I almost puke. I¡¯ve never seen anything so gross in my life. Even that longneck creature with its dead eyes didn¡¯t make me feel this way. This is pure nightmare fuel. The thing¡¯s eye twitches, trying to suck up the shards of broken glass. The bug thrashes and flails, but it¡¯s still not descending. We¡¯re still moving through the air, but I can¡¯t tell where. All I know is I¡¯m holding on for dear life, because if I fall, it will be into the sinkhole.
"Was that not enough for you?!" I shout, rage bubbling up inside me. The thing calms down and my right fist swells with energy as I prepare for another hit. I shift my sight to the second eye, which is further away, harder to reach. I tilt myself to the right, stretching as far as I can without losing my grip. My sweaty palm slips on the horn, but I clench my grip tightly. Should I go for the wings instead? I wonder for a moment. No. Too risky. The space between the two horns is the only safe spot right now. I stretch again, ignoring the vertigo that hits me when I look down at the open sky beneath me. But then, a thought crosses my mind. It¡¯s disgusting, but it might work. I take a deep breath. *Inhale* Exhale* With a powerful stomp, I drive my right sneaker into the bug¡¯s eye socket. It feels like stepping into a half-deflated balloon, squishy and gross. The eye wraps around my foot like some kind of doughy mess. The bug screeches in pain, twisting violently as I barely hold. I clench my jaw, focusing all my power for the final strike. My foot sinks deeper into the gross, slimy mess, but I push the feeling aside. I¡¯ve got to finish this. *Bang* *Crack* The second eye shield shatters. This time, the hammer gets stuck deep inside the squishy mess, lodged in there.
A loud bang echoes from somewhere off in the distance, but I can barely process it. Both of the bug¡¯s eyes are destroyed, but it¡¯s still thrashing, still flying. I grip the horn even tighter, knowing the battle¡¯s not over yet. Chapter 56 - Cartographer ¡°Oh, what the fuck was th¡ª!¡± ¡°Aaargh!¡± I groan as the bug suddenly changes its course, and the buzzing sound gets quieter. Is it flying in the opposite direction now? Am I dreaming? It can''t just fly backward, can it? "Ugh." Grasping tightly, I try to comprehend what just happened. That loud bang echoing from the distance and the bug¡¯s sudden behavior change can only mean one thing¡ªHarald.
Looking back at the wings, I notice one is twitching while the other flaps slower. The bug is still flying straight but is now slowly descending. Standing with my foot still in its eye socket, wrapped in disgusting matter, I give it one more try to retrieve my weapon. I wiggle the hammer, but I have no luck again. Despite being exhausted, and even though the hammer¡¯s weight is adjusted to my strength input, I can¡¯t fit it through the hole. The squared and now enlarged hammerhead of my masonry hammer is perfectly wedged in the armored glass panel. The curved dome shape that covers the second eye makes it even worse. Aligning the hammer with the square hole is impossible, especially with the flying fortress¡¯s glide now being not steady and turbulence-free. As I try to pull it out, but not only is the head stuck; the handle is too slippery for my sweaty palm. I quickly check my surroundings. A simple glance at the distance is enough to make my head spin and the edges of my vision darken. If I lose consciousness now or don¡¯t stay sharp, I¡¯m done for. To avoid falling to my death, I leave the hammer in the beast¡¯s eye socket. It slides in freely, bumping against the disgusting doughy eye and tilting to the side. ¡°What the¡­¡± Is this thing still alive or not? I quickly use my right hand to grab my left arm, locking myself around the creature¡¯s horn. With one leg on the saddle between the horns and my right foot buried in its eye, I check the wings again. One wing cover is slowly closing, and the wings are moving even slower. I glance behind the creature¡¯s tail and up to check the health bar. Perfect! It¡¯s halfway down and still depleting. Now don¡¯t fucking die on me, or I go with you.
Finally, my vision clears as the wind is blowing from behind instead of directly into my face. My hair waves in the breeze, getting in my eyes and sticking to my sweaty forehead so I rub my face against the giant horn to wipe it off and push my hair aside. Gazing into the distance, I notice a wide rocky formation. Is this a mountain? It reminds me of Mount Fuji, but the top isn¡¯t covered in snow. This must be a volcano. I finally understand that all the beige color below is the desert. And this must be the desert Harald mentioned. And is there supposed to be a car? I try to focus on the surface below, but there¡¯s nothing recognizable. I¡¯m too high up. How the hell did he not mention the volcano? It¡¯s definitely visible from there. Judging by where the forest meets the desert, the entire area seems to be only a few dozen kilometers wide. What looks like just another, bigger mountain or volcano, with a gray landscape around it, leaves me stunned once again. I blink, trying to comprehend what I¡¯m seeing. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. The tall black formation resembling a castle that caught my eye while gaining altitude was indeed not an illusion. Majestic and, compared to the volcano, unbelievably large. A spark of megalophobia awakens in me. The tallest, slim, and pointed tower, like a needle, pierces the clouds, surrounded by smaller pointed towers and courtyards. How freaking big is this castle? Despite being unimaginably far, it¡¯s still very prominent. It wasn¡¯t on the maps Astrid traced, and Harald didn¡¯t say a thing. I need to remember everything as clearly as I can now and make a map!
But now, it¡¯s time to focus on seating safely before looking around precisely. That loud bang perfectly aligned with my stomp to the Rhinoceros'' eye. What a coincidence. It must have been him watching me. What other weapons does he have? It¡¯s impossible he did this with a pistol or shotgun. What will he use next? A rocket launcher? I wonder as I glide on the bug toward the volcano and desert. Despite the dying bug descending slowly, I need to stop sightseeing. At least for now and switch my position. Retrieving my hammer is impossible, and I¡¯m even done trying. I hear some loud crunching, like wood being chipped, and a vibration. The handle is being chewed inside the bug¡¯s head through the eye socket. Gross and sad. I sigh, wondering if the godling will be willing to help me again. Still holding my hands together, I remain locked around the horn. My right leg is buried in the pulsating eye, and my left one is in the so-called saddle between the horns. I shift my weight now with much more ease compared to the fear and effort it took to balance earlier. *Swish* I slide myself to the left and once again sit tightly between the horns. It¡¯s a safe spot. Still hugging the horn, I try to unstick my right leg. What I have to witness makes me want to puke. As I pull my leg out, I¡¯m surprised to see my sneaker intact. The dough ball is still moving, but not as fast anymore¡ªit seems the thing is dying, and these are its last breaths. I bet it¡¯s making a gross sound too, but I¡¯m lucky the wind is whistling in my ears, blocking everything else.
After a few moments, I get comfortable and secure enough to study the environment again. I scan the area, turning my head and blocking the wind with one hand next to my face. I wish I had a helmet with a GoPro right now. The black tower and that hauntingly deep pit. I gaze into it again, hoping to catch a glimpse of the bottom. Just a simple reflection or anything? Come on. No luck. Maybe it¡¯s bottomless after all. Focusing back on the distance, I see the endless forest with trees of various heights and colors. It¡¯s indistinguishable from bushes. The light color and shadows tell me these are the crossroads where the knight was. "Was." I chuckle. The pile is still smoking, if I¡¯m correct. Or maybe not¡ªthat gray stain rising upward could be anything. The small castle ruin, where that bastard I¡¯ll one day crush to dust is, is probably in that direction. I look confidently. The misty area beyond is definitely the bamboo forest; there¡¯s nothing else to see there. A small settlement up ahead. Hopefully, it¡¯s not another trap or zombie village. Most of the farthest areas are shrouded in mist or are simply too small to discern. I recap what I see. The misty area with the bamboo forest, monkeys, and the fat merchant creature that vanished. Maybe it¡¯s back again. I wonder what the roaring that repelled us was. Next to it is the castle ruin with the moss giant and the spider turtle cave beneath. The dark woods continue to the right. This entire area is foggy and gloomy. Despite it being a bright day, this place feels ominous and unwelcoming. The classic, endless forest takes up most of the area on my right.
Time to switch myself in the saddle and get a clear look behind me. But now the wind will be in my face again as the bug continues gliding toward the desert. Dang it. I didn¡¯t notice this before, but the trees seem to be getting taller? I blink and lean forward, squinting. Holy crap, those trees are indeed growing taller and taller, rising exponentially. Sequoias? I wonder. I¡¯ve always dreamed of seeing them in person. The best I¡¯ve had were TV documentaries and so now I feel a surge of excitement as my inner to-do list starts growing. Next is the desert, stretching out into the distance. The mighty dunes reflect sunlight. I wonder how all these biomes maintain their climate despite being so close together. From the misty, wet bamboo forest to the dark woods, transitioning into a classic European forest, then gradually shifting into giant trees. This fades into savanna before finally transforming into desert. The volcano, surrounded by tall mountains, stands out as the main focal point, with the pitch-black humongous mansion behind the lunar landscape. After counting eight pointy towers, I stop. The area next to it begins to show some color again, returning to generic woods.
Since I¡¯ve been gliding for a good ten to fifteen minutes, I can estimate where this bug will land. ¡°Hold up, buddy.¡± I look at it and instantly regret it, as my eyes meet its gruesome, lifeless eyes. I lean back against the flexible horn and try to relax. There¡¯s nothing else I can do. Risking a fall is not my style and trying to steer it without my hammer is impossible. The course looks good anyway. I reassure myself that I¡¯m doing everything I can. Landing in sand? What¡¯s the worst that could happen? Some scratches and sand everywhere. From my hair to my undies. I think about the myth of jumping before an elevator falls. Should I leap off right before hitting the ground? Or will the bug regain consciousness during the flight and land on its own? I check the health bar, which is slowly and steadily draining. Wait, what if there¡¯s something far worse in the desert? No, no, it can¡¯t be. Harald would have mentioned it. Chapter 57 - Enjoying the Glide Steering steadily, sitting comfortably, I position my head against the black horn to block all the wind. No need to squint anymore. The air at this altitude is refreshing, and I finally enjoy the ride. After a few moments of sitting still, I feel safe enough to even let go of the controls. I wonder if the old man is watching me through the rifle optics. Or does he have classic binoculars? I bet he does. What else can I do here but wait it out? I believe I''ve memorized the surroundings well and will enhance our maps with valuable information. I decide to touch the bug, testing the horn surface by scratching it. It has a leather-like texture, and I¡¯m barely able to put a dent in it with my nail. It quickly self-heals, and the dent flattens. I lean back and examine the flexible smaller horn. It¡¯s sturdy and solid, yet if I apply enough pressure, it bends. I start to toy with the thought of salvaging parts from its body. Curiously mumbling while looking around. The poor thing is still barely alive, its health bar almost empty. From what I¡¯ve observed in other encounters, once it fully dies, the bar should disappear. I bet a single weak hit could end it for good. I wonder: Is it steering because its wing covers are still wide open? Or is it still sentient enough to hope for a landing and recovery? To be honest with myself, I¡¯m afraid to think out loud about my plan to finish it off on the ground¡ªif the fall itself doesn¡¯t do it. I¡¯m paranoid it can somehow sense my thoughts or read them.
The horn¡ªunless the old man has a saw or machete, there¡¯s no way of ripping it off. But I can imagine using it as a bat. Heavy and sturdy, almost indestructible. The armored body¡ªI could craft some basic armor for myself. But this shell is too thick. I glance at the backplate, noting that the shield¡¯s raw thickness is about three fingers deep. It looks light while still attached to the bug, but I can¡¯t imagine wearing a cuirass that thick and black. It must feel like a greenhouse inside when the sun shines intensely. Metal plate it is¡ªmy eyes brighten as I recall the knight who killed the cat and got burnt alive for it. I start to speculate: Who else would want to loot the remains of a knight? The old man has his bulletproof vest, and so do I. It¡¯s a shame I didn¡¯t use it during the bug fight, but those small bastards targeted my lower half anyway. Maneuvering in it while being chased by the boss¡ªmy jump probably wouldn¡¯t have been powerful enough. I comfort myself that I did the right thing. Damn it, Mark. Are you really excusing the fact that you forgot to wear the damn vest? This is insulting to the old man. I sigh. Who else would want to loot the knight? Mike wants to be fast and avoid getting hit, if he doesn¡¯t change his strategy. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. He¡¯d probably run around naked if it weren¡¯t for me and Harald. Astrid would never wear adult armor from him. I will be the owner if everything goes right! I inhale the strong fresh wind and crack a smile. So what do we have to choose from: gloves, helmet, boots, sword, and ¡°trousers¡±? How stupid am I? Armored pants? I don¡¯t even know what to call them. But I¡¯d like them. I¡¯d really like to have some knee protection after the whole universe united to destroy my left kneecap, apparently. Looking at my weathered sneakers, I think I could fit them entirely inside those metal boots. Since I¡¯ve fallen in love with my hammer, that two-handed sword would suit only Harald. I imagine the piercing damage would be satisfying and useful on some occasions, but that sword is just too long for me to wield with one hand. Maybe he will pass me his combat dagger then¡ªI keep dreaming. Leaning forward, I check the status of my precious weapon. My face twists in disgust again as I try to locate it inside the crevice. It seems it has traveled into the creature¡¯s head deep inside. The crunch I heard earlier¡ªI assume its auto-chewing reflexes activated. Those mandibles were definitely moving around when it happened. My only weapon, I sigh. And enchanted! Damnit! I must recover it, no matter what! At least the hammerhead. On the other hand, I still have the glock Harald gave me. Limited ammunition makes me save it for special occasions. But.. Wasn¡¯t that just a while ago? I could have shot the thing in its eyes earlier, but I was afraid of swapping weapons while struggling to hold on. Shooting it now is pointless; it would worsen my situation. The thing is gliding and descending and as the saying goes: If it works, don¡¯t touch it. What about my inventory? The moment I think of it, a panel quickly opens, and I check if it¡¯s not clipping or glitching in the air. I observe its behavior while sitting still yet moving at great speed. It holds up fairly well, the bronze window floating steadily in front of my eyes, not giving a damn about the movement. If I were wearing an AR headset, I would have to enable travel mode. Grabbing some items to reorganize and fidget witht he UI, I notice how much faster the background seems to move now. We¡¯re already close to the ground. I can recognize the tree canopies, and the savanna will be underneath me in a few moments. It¡¯s time to prepare for impact. My stress level rises gradually as this realization hits. Oof. Should I jump? I ask myself and continue my inner monologue. What height would be ideal? Would I even be able to distinguish ten from two meters of altitude? If my body hits the sand from, let¡¯s say, ten meters, isn¡¯t that like falling out of a window on the third floor?
The dry savanna with yellow grass swiftly passes beneath me, followed by sand. Three moving dots catch my eye in my peripheral vision. Mike, Astrid in the lead, and Harald behind them, probably struggling with the heat in his bulletproof vest. It¡¯s really them. I feel better, and it lifts my spirits a little. I can¡¯t die here, not in such a stupid way. I need to focus now; the dunes are here, and so am I, calculating the jump. I think about all the possible bad outcomes. If I break a limb, the best I can do is shoot myself in the head afterward¡ªno chance of healing that without medication. At least I¡¯ll be fit again after being reborn. I glance at my arms, covered in stretch marks and bruises. I really want to find out more about those green berries from the note. I definitely need to return to the snail area. Analyzing what else could happen, one terrible memory comes to mind: when sand got in my eye that one time. Closing my eyelids as tightly as possible is a must while I roll in the sand. Pumping up my muscle mass might protect my bones, or no? After that thought, I suddenly remember the story I read a few years ago. It was about a skydiver who survived solely because he was unconscious. Stiff muscles hold the skeleton tight, counteracting the bones¡¯ best trait¡ªflexibility. Being unconscious made his muscles relax; that¡¯s why his body didn¡¯t break a single bone. I panic and focus only on my eyelids now. Keeping them shut tightly, I hug myself and crouch my legs up, getting into the fetal position. trying as hard as I can to relax. Inhale deeply. Exhale. Inhale. Aargh. I scream at the top of my lungs.
Chaos and blinking lights through my closed eyelids. I have no idea what¡¯s up and what¡¯s down. All I know is that I¡¯m rolling in the hot sand, hugging myself in a fetal position. I feel pain on my back and arms and I can¡¯t distinguish between the hot sand, scratches, or any other wounds. I can¡¯t even count how many rolls I¡¯ve done so far. Imagining myself as a huge bag of potatoes dropped in the sand. But I sense that this is the last one. Finally, the rolling stops.
Still holding my breath to avoid inhaling dust and sand, my body warns me that I need to breathe. I¡¯m still not aware if I¡¯m facing down or up. As the pain in my chest expands from lack of oxygen, I force myself to wait a bit longer until my brain and body settle. Yep. I¡¯m definitely on my side. The bright light shining on my face is the sun, and it¡¯s pretty hot. I blow the leftover air out of my lungs to get rid of the sand sticking to my mouth. *Inhale* Finally, a deep inhale. The air is super hot, and my mouth dries instantly. ¡°You alright?¡± Chapter 58 - Reunion ¡°You alright?¡± ¡°Markus!¡± I hear the loud voices from a distance. Mostly female. ¡°Astrid?¡± I respond with a muffled voice. ¡°Wait.¡± I raise my head with concern. The bug is somewhere close and must be alive; I didn''t hear any notification at all, so it might be still dangerous. Or was this the old man''s kill? There is only one way to find out. I need to shoot it with the glock anyway, just to be sure. Raising my arm, I assess the damage. The sleeves on my shirt are completely torn to pieces; there¡¯s no reason not to just rip them off right now. I slowly stand up, feeling joy and cracking a smile. My feet are buried in the hot sand as I stretch my arms and torso. ¡°Hell yeah!¡± Looking all around myself, I assess that I¡¯m basically undamaged. The heat and uncomfortable sleeves filled with sand and soaked in sweat. I tear them off with ease and toss them onto the sand. I shake the dust and sand out of my hair while looking at the approaching trio in the distance. Taking off one sneaker, I pour out a good portion of sand. They were white when I bought them, but now their default color is light brown. I¡¯m surprised at how weathered they look after just a week of heavy use. They look like they¡¯re years old now. While slipping the shoe back onto my right foot, I hop on my left, turning around to search for the bug¡¯s location. The trio is running toward me pretty fast. I see Mike, topless, with his headband wrapped around his neck too; Astrid behind him, and the old man, even further back, sweating in his bulletproof vest. They have trouble walking over the deep sand dunes, yet they move fast and take huge steps. It looks exhausting. The bug lies still a few dozen meters from me, so I decide to attempt the difficult walk over the deep sand dunes by myself. What if the thing has some sort of healing? It still might take off and with my precious hammerhead is still inside its head.
Walking toward the bug, I feel my calves burning. My inventory opens in front of me as I call it, and I pull out the glock. The trio is closing the distance faster than I can walk. This won¡¯t work, after what I''ve been through, I want the kill! Time to try my special move on sand. I crouch and channel my power to my thighs. The only pain I feel is in my knee, where the blood circulation and heat are concentrated around the bruised area. Three, two, one. *Release* *Swoosh* I jump about four meters forward and quite high too, leaving a cloud of sand rising behind me. I could definitely jump over a small car, despite being weighed down by the sand. ¡°Cheater!¡± I hear a manly voice yelling. *Jump* *Jump* And another *Jump* Almost near the bug, I can see its health bar. Still present, yet fully depleted. One last jump and I¡¯m standing in front of the creature. Finally comprehending how dangerous it was and how easily I could¡¯ve slipped off the shiny, colorful armor. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Boy, you¡¯re one hit from death,¡± I tell the creature as if it could understand me. I aim my glock at its eye, calculating the correct angle to pierce the head from inside. My finger almost presses the trigger, but I stop myself. I sit down with my legs crossed in the sand and wait for the rest of the crew.
The couple seems glad to see me in one piece. Mike examines the carcass. As his gaze lands on the creature¡¯s eyes, he frowns deeply. ¡°What the...¡± The girl is visibly disgusted too, and she asks me about my arms, now fully exposed as my sleeves are off and arms bruised, covered with skin stretch marks. ¡°What¡¯re you waiting for, boy?¡± the old man greets me. ¡°Finish it off. You deserve the kill.¡± He encourages me with a smile. I almost forgot how great his teeth are. ¡°I guess we can¡¯t split it, right?¡± I look at him with an innocent expression. He nods at me in agreement. I crouch and aim my gun inside the hole, again. Harald clicks his tongue to make me stop and look at him. ¡°The safety,¡± he gestures, showing me where and how to unlock it. ¡°Yes, there,¡± he adds as I move my fingers around the tiny lever. I unlock it tediously, feeling dumb. *Bang* The bullet disappears inside, piercing the deflated, baggy eye. The health bar vanishes instantly, and I hear the satisfying *Ding* As if that wasn¡¯t enough excitement, I hear the satisfying drumroll next. Total amount of malevolence has decreased. The progress bar flashes, looking almost the same as before. Maybe it¡¯s lost a tiny bit of substance, but it¡¯s insignificant. ¡°Wow, wow, wow. Wait a moment.¡± The old man steps back, a bit afraid and confused. I¡¯m in shock, as this means only one thing¡ªhe received the notification too. When I killed the Exiled One, I thought it appeared only for me. I was looking Mike in the eye; he didn¡¯t move a muscle back then. ¡°Anyone else see it?¡± I ask them curiously and suspiciously. Mike and Astrid nod. ¡°I¡¯ve seen this twice already since I¡¯ve been here,¡± mentions the old man. ¡°You all three saw it?¡± he asks, relieved. I guess he thought he was missing something important or was going insane and glitching. "Twice?" I ask. "Twice including now or this is the third?" Mike steps in. "This is the third time, if my mind isn''t playing tricks with me." He answers calmly. We look at each other a bit worried, with our eyebrows raised. "That means we''re not the only ones?" I say, while frowning. "It seems like it." Astrid adds. Mike nods and the old man''s smile freezes.
We sit down in the sand and discuss what to do. Opening my status window, I feel joy seeing two available points. My level has increased by two. Its going pretty fast, now I¡¯m at level 63. I raise my hands to eye level and examine them thoroughly. "Ugh." Of course, Mike is watching me. I bet he is... Wait, he seems just curious, not jealous of my boss takedown. Despite knowing him for so little, I can tell when he envies me. Or is this deceiving because he¡¯s watching me with only one eye? I wonder. We kinda stopped telling each other our levels, stats, and skills we¡¯ve invested in. So I conspire in my head: is Mike planning on switching to an endurance build? Why is he so interested all of a sudden how it will react on my body? And his wounds from the small bugs aren''t that bad at all. He''s in some sort of pain, but I swear those claw wounds were deeper. He must be experimenting with an endurance too. The old man, now treats me too like a guinea pig in a laboratory. I see out of the corner of my eye that he¡¯s observing me, waiting patiently for my next move. ¡°All to Endurance.¡± I say out loud. The skill points successfully travel from the corner of the screen to my total endurance, which is now nine. Nothing special happens for a few dozen seconds, and I start to get disappointed. A weird tingling sensation slowly spreads across my skin. Is this a placebo? No, I look closely at my arms. The itch starts mostly on my forearms and palms, where the stretch marks are. I definitely see the changes more clearly than before, when I tested the endurance effect for the first time with that sharp stone. The stretch marks narrow and their color lightens, making my arms look less gross. The itching is now unbearable. I can¡¯t resist and start scratching my arms with my long, dirty fingernails. It¡¯s relieving, yet a little painful, as the scabs from beneath my fingernails are puckered out. I put my finger in my mouth and lick it to moisten the dried blood and release the tension a bit.
Markus Hale foreigner level 63
Strength 60 Focus [Bonus Skill]
Agility 3 no skill
Willpower 4 no skill
Endurance 9 no skill
After that, Harald walks closer to the bug. He examines its body from a distance and does a swift hop up to the bug¡¯s bottom, where the colorful backplate covers the wings. He wobbles it over the muscular hinge. ¡°This is excellent material,¡± he states, pulling out his combat knife with serrated top edge from the belt holster. He tries to pry something and fiddle around. Mike, meanwhile, joins him and pokes the baggy eye with his saber. He pokes it with medium force, but it resists well; the baggy thing starts wrapping itself around the saber. Astrid deeply inhales and turns away, looking into the distance, where nothing can be seen. Now I understand why Harald didn¡¯t mention the castle or the volcano. The sand dunes are so tall it feels like we¡¯re on a different planet. What makes me believe we¡¯re still in the same place is the forest to our right in the distance and the mountain ridge behind me. Well, what seems to be a mountain ridge, but I know those silhouettes are the giant trees. ¡°Wonder kid, toss me your hammer,¡± the old man asks. ¡°I lost it. I hope it¡¯s still inside the bug,¡± I respond, disappointed. *Spurt* ¡°Fuck! God! Damnit!¡± Chapter 59 - Ultimate Upgrade *Bang following a loud spurt* The old man laughs as Mike starts to swear. ¡°Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!¡± ¡°Pffft¡± He continues spitting all around. Astrid quickly turns around to see what just happened. I think I hear her gulp, close to vomiting. She immediately turns away. ¡°Jesus,¡± I say out loud as Mike struggles to comprehend the mistake he just made. The green liquid spurts out, spraying from the eye and covering Mike¡¯s naked body, full frontal. He just stands there, his one eye closed. Pissed. ¡°Pffft¡± He spits multiple times, looking around for something to clean himself with. Astrid, fed up with his antics, moves closer to the bug and the old man. They examine the carcass, and I see Harald start to give her a lecture on its anatomy and the composition of its shell. I feel cozy because of this. Mike starts to clean himself with handfuls of sand. The sand absorbs the moisture, taking away almost all the disgusting liquid. At least he¡¯s not hairy; as I watch him the sand removes at least largest portions of the goo. I don''t interfere and rather mind my own business. My precious hammer, somewhere behind those disgusting things. Now I know at least that the bags are filled and under pressure. Phew. I imagine what might happen if those were detonated by my stomp up there. I might even lose my balance and fall to death. Guess luck was on my side once again.
I move closer to the right eye of the creature to retrieve my hammer. First, I need to destroy the remaining eye cover, but I don¡¯t have anything suitable for the task. ¡°Harald, do you have something I can use to break that?¡± I interrupt the old man and Astrid, pointing to the right eye socket. The heat is becoming unbearable, and I think we need to hurry and move somewhere else, to the shadows. There isn¡¯t even time for me to write down what I saw while I was at the top. The old man crouches and pulls out his combat knife from his boot. ¡°Don¡¯t make the same mistake.¡± He points at Mike, who¡¯s in the distance, rolling in the sand. Use the handle.¡± He flips the knife in his hand with ease, gripping the blade between his two strong fingers, and offers it to me with the handle facing forward. ¡°Thanks.¡± ¡°I have one question. Can I use my gun as a hammer? I¡¯ve seen it in movies,¡± I ask cautiously. ¡°You may, but only in an emergency. Use the grip end, not the barrel. Now, hand it over,¡± he replies, extending his hand. I quickly open my inventory and pull out the glock and hand it to him, grip first. He removes the magazine and the bullet in the chamber, then reloads the single bullet back into the magazine. ¡°Dammit. I¡¯d have removed the magazine but not the leftover bullet. Thanks.¡± I say while shaking my head. He winks at me and hands me back the gun.
Then he and the curious girl continue examining the colorful wing covers, moving them up and down. I notice that they are connected to the rest of the armored body with strong tendons. I might try to cut them with the combat knife I just borrowed. Better hurry up with my hammer rescue mission. Harald positions the wing cover to create some shade and sits with Astrid underneath. I move back near the eye socket and try to smash the cover with the gun grip. *Crack, crack, crack* You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. It¡¯s still fairly strong, but the cracks around my previous impact make it easier to chip away. After some heavier blows I put away the gun and use the knife¡¯s metal handle to finish the rest. After a while, I finally have a hole big enough to see inside and check for my hammer. ¡°Oh, for fuck¡¯s sake!¡± I see the hammerhead at the back of the skull. But where¡¯s the handle? I panic, noticing the chewed-up stub. It got destroyed indeed. Just as I thought. My mood shifts quickly as I had at least some hope it might be intact. What the heck does this bug have inside that annihilated the whole handle? The wood must have been incredibly strong since it didn¡¯t break when I used it extensively. I decide to save what¡¯s left, but the only way to reach it is by hand. *Sigh.* There¡¯s no way I¡¯m getting close to that terrible thing. I grab the knife and try a delicate maneuver around the disgusting matter. There¡¯s no other way; maybe I can pull it closer with something longer? But I already know what to use. ¡°Mike?" I look at him in the distance. "Can I borrow your sabre?¡± I ask. He stops rolling and looks at me. Standing up quickly he walks closer without saying anything. He crouches and looks inside while holding his scarf with his left hand. I remain silent. Suddenly, he extends his right arm fully into the bug¡¯s head, touching everything and reaching for my hammer. He groans as he struggles to pull it out. ¡°Oh my g¡ª¡± ¡°Here.¡± He cuts me off and throws me the hammerhead. His muscles tense as he throws it, visibly struggling to lift the weight, though he hides it well. I don''t expect him to toss it, so I miss, and it falls into the sand. The head strikes the ground hard, sending a burst of sand into the air, which the wind swiftly carries away. Every time a breeze blows, we all close our eyes and savor it. ¡°Thank you!¡± I respond gratefully. He nods and joins Astrid and Harald, sitting in the shade. I roll the hammerhead in the sand to clean off whatever stains are on it. The handle is broken through and through. When I lift the remains, the leftover pieces of the handle fall out of the hammerhead. ¡°You can start throwing it,¡± Harald jokes. I shake my head and smile. Holding the heavy piece of squared metal, I look around, thinking. "Hmm." A crazy idea sparks in my mind. I gaze at the bug¡¯s horn¡ªnot the large one, but the smaller, more flexible one right behind the main horn. ¡°Harald?¡± He turns his head to me and raises his eyebrows. I notice that he already has some sunburn on the back of his neck. He pulls a wooden toothpick from his pocket and starts to chew it. ¡°Do you think this would work?¡± I ask, holding the hammerhead near the smaller horn. He stands up, steadying himself on the bug¡¯s body, and joins me. ¡°Knife.¡± He extends his hand without looking at me, focused on the horn. I hand him the knife immediately. *Gentle poke* He starts poking the horn and makes a few moderate stabs to test its durability. It¡¯s strong, but it¡¯s possible to make some dents and cuts. He tries the same with the large horn for comparison. The outer leather has some significant dents, but a few millimeters deeper, it¡¯s rock-hard. He extends his hand again, asking for the hammerhead now. I place it in his hand, and he makes an unexpected drop, just like Mike did. He probably wasn¡¯t expecting that small hammer to be that heavy. Am I really that strong? I wonder It wasn''t a big deal beside the enchantment for me anyway. Compared to an average adult, I must be stronger, definitely, but how much? I keep wondering if I could compete with athletes or strongmen now¡ªwell, at least with the parts of my body that are enhanced by reallocating mass by the Focus skill. I watch him as he tries to fit the hammerhead on top of the horn. He makes some cuts and adjustments, and I can see that the head will probably fit well. The only problem is getting the thicker part on top to squeeze through the hammerhead, thus locking it in place.
Meanwhile, Astrid leans back against the bug, avoiding more sunburn, ignoring what we¡¯re doing. Mike, on the other hand, awkwardly checks out what we¡¯re experimenting with. The old man quickly reacts. ¡°Michael, give us a hand.¡± He joins us, and Harald instructs him to pull the hammerhead down. All three of us hold and press tightly, our hands overlapping as we apply as much pressure as possible. It almost goes through but gets stuck again. I shake my head. ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll try now. Stay together.¡± Harald nods and moves closer to Mike, so they can be the counterweight to my side. I slightly release more power and press the head down. Both Mike and Harald struggle to withstand the pressure from my side. I raise my eyebrows in surprise. God, I¡¯m stronger than two average men combined. I see they¡¯re struggling to hold on, so I moderate my power. *Thud* The hammerhead finally slides in, and the thicker part we were trying to squeeze through pops out, locking it in place. I nod at them and thank them. Harald leaves me the knife and tells me to cut the horn to the desired length. ¡°Just a small reminder: flexible sledge hammers are used on railways. The handle absorbs more impact, which makes your hit a bit weaker, but your arms won¡¯t suffer as much.¡± Chapter 60 - Shieldbearers I measure and decide to trim it to the final length. If I somehow fail to cut it off, I''d probably have to leave it here. That would be so stupid¡ªa carcass of a bug with two horns, but one has a hammer attached on top. Using Harald''s combat knife, I start to work. The outer leathery skin is easy enough to cut through, and the wound automatically widens as I glide the sharp blade over it. After slicing a ring around it, I decide to focus on the hardened part inside. My right forearm strains, veins bulging, as I continue fiddling under the hot sun. "Boy." Harald gets up heavily from under the sunshade, supporting himself with a hand on his own thigh. It''s clear that he''s really hot. "Use it as an ax, here.." I place the handle of the knife in his palm. *Thud, thud, thud* He starts cutting, and pieces of black matter chip away as the wound deepens. ''Now, finish it yourself,'' he says, handing the knife back to me before sitting down next to Astrid. They resume chatting while Mike continues to clean himself.
About a third of the way through, the weight of the hammerhead starts to bend the whole thing to the side. A wild idea sparks. I can test both the strength of the horn and the hammer¡¯s enchantment. "Harald?" I hand him the knife back. "Yeah?" He turns his head slightly, checking on me with one eye. "Check this out." I grab the horn just above the cut. Its coarse, leathery surface gives a surprisingly comfortable grip. Tightening my hold on the handle with my right hand, I activate my Focus. My grip tightens, veins bulging, as my bicep and forearm swell with the strain. *Crack* With a loud crack, the horn handle separates from the bug, the hammerhead¡¯s weight multiplying the force. I raise it up victoriously. The sun reflects off the shiny hammerhead, creating a brilliant glare.
¡°Epic!" The shine of the hammerhead is matched by the gleam of his teeth as he grins. "Wanna help me with those wings?¡± He asks. The couple now moves out from under the shadow of the wings as he speaks. ¡°Give it a test?¡± He turns his head and nods up. A loud ¡°Huh,¡± followed by raised eyebrows, and then a nod from me. He stands up and puts his left leg on the bug, holding the wing cover. ¡°Why¡¯d you even ask?¡± I respond cheerfully. Before my Focus even fades, I reactivate it again. With no sleeves, they can see the transformation in real-time. I try to be as gentle as possible, having already pushed my arms to their limit. Then a thought crosses my mind, so I speak up. ¡°If we die, do we completely heal all our wounds?¡± I ask suddenly. The old man seems never to have considered it before. He looks immediately concerned. I can see from his expression that he¡¯s lost in thought, replaying past events. His eyes dart back and forth as he thinks. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ¡°All the meat we have from the fox now cost me two lives. My wounds were, of course, healed, but...¡± He pulls up one leg of his black work trousers, checking his calf. ¡°Phew. Wow.¡± ¡°What?¡± I ask. He proceeds to press and feel the bone in his calf and explains. ¡°I had surgery a long time ago, and there was definitely a scar left.¡± ¡°How long ago?¡± Mike asks. ¡°When I was a kid, I broke it pretty badly, and it never grew back the same way.¡± ¡°There was always this lump.¡± He presses the flesh in disbelief and massages it with his fingers. ¡°If you watched me walk for a while, you might notice a slight limp.¡± ¡°Strange, I completely forgot about this until now.¡± He stares into the distance, shaking his head.
¡°We learn something new every day here,¡± he states, pulling the wing cover further out and signaling me with his eyes where to swing. My hammer now has the length of a sledgehammer. I can lean on it like a walking stick. I feel the weight of it more anyway beside the enchantment, as the center of gravity has shifted. But despite its size, the horn is light, and my grip is tighter than before. I swing it over my head with medium force, joining my hands together on top for an extra strong two-handed strike. The handle bends slightly as I strike, so I feel almost no impact on my sore forearms. *Bong* The hammerhead flattens the muscular hinge like a pancake. ¡°How does it feel?¡± Harald asks curiously. I lean on my hammer, looking sideways, thinking. ¡°Uh, to be honest, I feel almost no pressure on my forearms after the blow.¡± ¡°Enchantment definitely still works so the weight I feel is still normal, maybe a bit uprised. I can technically now put even more power, to ease the base strain it still has. But it needs some testing.¡± I turn my wrist, showing him the most damaged part¡ªthe inner side of my forearm. Bruised, covered in scar tissue and scabs, stretch marks radiating from the tips of my fingers to my shoulders. ¡°I believe that endurance will help me solve this. As the skin gets thicker, the more compressed my muscle mass can be.¡± ¡°For now, only some bandages or non-elastic gloves will do.¡± I explain to the old man. ¡°Or we could steal or loot,¡± Mike suggests, raising his eyebrows. Astrid gives him a strange look. ¡°Steal from the merchant?¡± the old man asks, appalled. "No, I meant... Never mind." Mike realizes there''s no way to talk his way out of this argument. ¡°To be honest, guys, I was coveting some pieces of the armor from that old knight we burned alive.¡± ¡°I could imagine wearing his gloves or some lower-half armor. Well, look at my knees.¡± ¡°You did what?!¡± the old man exclaims, frightened and worried. ¡°Guess you haven¡¯t encountered any humanoid enemies yet.¡± Mike proceeds to explain everything, including how Pocco got killed, returned, and saved us at the giant, where I died.
I keep replaying that memory. Fear was a factor before, but not now. My veins bulge just from the thought. I want to annihilate that thing. Pulverize it to dust. But before that, I want it to suffer, if it¡¯s even possible for it to suffer. One day, I¡¯ll torture it so badly. My hammer is thirsty, and since the giant seemed to be made of some sort of stone or rock, well, what¡¯s the greatest enemy of rock? A brick masonry hammer! ¡°You alright, Mark?¡± The old man leans toward me. I breathe heavily, spitting through clenched teeth. ¡°Let¡¯s finish what we started and get out of here. Either we dry out during the day or freeze to death at night.¡± If they only knew, I could generate heat. But this isn¡¯t the right time or place to reveal my secrets. I bet everyone here has a few. I think this to justify why I still haven¡¯t told them about the Bonus skill.
My arms grip the hot hammer handle. Its black color doesn¡¯t help, absorbing the heat easily. I take a huge swing from behind my head, and the pancake shatters to pieces. A giant wing cover finally comes off. I¡¯m curious how Harald holds it so effortlessly. It reminds me of movie props, where characters carry giant boulders that are actually made of lightweight styrofoam. ¡°Catch!¡± He throws it at Mike. Astrid covers herself instinctively. Even I flinch at the flying object, as it¡¯s about the size of a door. Mike catches it without even looking in Harald¡¯s direction. Damn, that¡¯s impressive. It must be super light. He spins it and changes his grip with ease. There are some crevices inside where it can be held like a shield. ¡°We have two of them! Who wants the other?¡± Mike hands his to Astrid and starts showing her how to hold and position it properly. ¡°I¡¯m good. I¡¯ve chosen my way,¡± he says to Harald. Then Harald looks at me. ¡°I think you, as a ranger, should have one,¡± I reason with the old man. ¡°But...¡± He continues. ¡°My body is a shield. I¡¯ve chosen my path as well.¡± I answer him calmly and resolutely. He nods with respect. ¡°But I have a small request for a while.¡± I raise the corner of my mouth, letting a small laugh escape. My eyes land on my left knee, and I raise my eyebrows. ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can do.¡± He responds with a wide smile. He grips the second wing and positions it for me to strike. *Bang and crack* I smash the second hinge to a pancake and destroy it with my second hit. He spins the shield around a few times and stores it in his inventory. ¡°Smash here and here,¡± he shows me around the bug''s body, mostly its legs. There are a few overlapping pieces, like fish scales. I knock some of them off with a hit, and he picks out the most suitable parts. Handing them to me, he tells me to try them on for size. ¡°Should I stuff them into my pants? Or...?¡± I ask, uncertain. ¡°No, silly you,¡± he laughs, as does Mike. ¡°We¡¯ll use some belts from the car.¡± ¡°What car?¡± Mike and Astrid look confused at each other. ¡°I¡¯ll explain later.¡± ¡°I need to focus on where it could be because I am...¡± He turns around on the spot. Suddenly, he starts jogging up the nearest dune. Reaching the top, he abruptly stops. He stands there, staring. The wooden pick he¡¯s been chewing on falls from his mouth as he gapes. Chapter 61 - Dunes Oh damn. I know what''s happening. It''s the castle and volcano and... Fuck! How the hell did no one ask me how the ride was and what I saw? I wasted so much time with the wings and my hammer. I can''t forget what I''ve seen. Luck was on my side, though, to experience the view and make the map! Wait! No, we can¡¯t stay here without water in that heat for long. I reason with myself. I need to collect my thoughts and get back on track, my sense of direction is having a tough time as this desert is huge, and we are on the lower part. I need to concentrate and replay it in my head. I stand there and turn around with my eyes closed, recalling the sights.
¡°The forest we came from, with giant bugs, snails, and wolves, continues to the area with the black tower. And everything else we''ve explored so far.¡± I point in the direction. ¡°Next is a dark, foggy area.¡± Turning on the spot clockwise, I continue to show what I remember. My sneakers are full of sand, but I completely ignore the discomfort. Mike listens to me for a second but then jogs over to Harald, up on the dune. He¡¯s still limping a bit from his wounds after the bug encounter. I can see he struggles, but despite the wounds, he¡¯s a tough one. What flatters me a bit is that only Astrid stays close, listening carefully and curiously. ¡°These in the distance might look like¡­¡± Curious and eager, Astrid interrupts me, ¡°Mountains?¡± ¡°Yes. But they¡¯re not. These are actually trees, I believe.¡± I open my eyes and look into the distance. It indeed looks like a ridge of mountains. ¡°Here, do you want to write and draw it down?¡± I ask, opening my inventory. ¡°I was about to ask you that.¡± She looks at me dead serious, eagerly accepting and starting to write and analyze what she traced earlier on the maps. So, should I write ''sequoias''? Or?¡± She raises her head while holding the black ballpoint pen, which has three random letters imprinted on it, separated by periods¡ªprobably an abbreviation for some company. ¡°If these are indeed trees, they¡¯re far taller and larger than any tree I''ve ever heard of, let alone seen with my own eyes.¡± ¡°Giant forest,¡± she whispers as she writes. ¡°I didn¡¯t see enough in the distance because of the fog and darkness, but you can write that nothing but darkness lies behind the forest we walked through.¡± I backtrack a bit, trying to remember the foggy place. ¡°There¡¯s that railing on the map after the bamboo forest, far, far away. Maybe even a possible dungeon?¡± she notes. ¡°Did you happen to spot anything?¡± I gently shake my head in disappointment and continue turning. ¡°Then over there, where the boys are¡­¡± ¡°Fuck me, man!¡± Mike raises his arms and touches his head in disbelief. Even though he¡¯s on top of the dune, we can still hear him clearly. I chuckle a bit. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Astrid flinches and almost moves, startled for a moment, but I calm her with a simple gesture. I believe Mike¡¯s solid character isn¡¯t easily rattled. Megalophobia, maybe? A quick thought flashes by. It can¡¯t be that big, right? ¡°Dunes and sand, literally nothing else, stretching far, far into the distance,¡± I continue explaining what I saw when I was up there. ¡°Should I mark this to the edge of the paper?¡± ¡°Do as you see fit, maybe one day, we¡¯ll be able to explore it further.¡± "I¡¯ll also draw some dunes and trees around and mark the creatures we fought so far, okay? The original map only includes places of interest so far, like caves, castles, settlements, towers, and rivers, but no biomes." "Sure." I nod. She doesn¡¯t push me for the obvious surprise reveal. I see her slowly and clearly writing down the details: where we¡¯re standing now, where the bug attacked us, the snails, and the other creatures. The stuff I was planning to do, she fills in for me, with a glorious, easy-to-read handwriting, incomparable to my hasty scribbling.
¡°Seriously, Astrid, what the hell? Come here! You won¡¯t believe your fucking eyes,¡± Mike calls, frightened. She hushes him with a hand gesture. I can see in her big eyes that she enjoys every moment here with me. The slow process of filling in the paper and preparing for the surprise reveal excites her more than the secret itself. ¡°Let me continue. If my calculations are correct, we¡¯d need to walk for days to get to the... hmm, how do I put it? The colossal palace or the Castle for the giants.¡± ¡°When I say colossal, I mean it. It¡¯s truly uncanny to see it in person.¡± Now I can see she wants me to finish so she can see it herself. ¡°A volcano and an unending gray area. Lunar landscape. Nothing but craters, rocks, and soil. Mostly dusty, maybe? And of course gray only.¡± She finishes writing, rolls up the scroll, and hands me my possessions back.
¡°Who, how, why?¡± Harald looks me in the eye. ¡°So when do we raid it?¡± I answer with a laugh. Mike still shakes his head in disbelief while chatting with Astrid. ¡°What could possibly build something like that?¡± she asks rhetorically. ¡°See those darker and lighter areas?¡± Harald points at the castle, as if it helps us locate what he means. ¡°If those are windows or doors, then that thing was made for¡­¡± He doesn''t finish because Mike interrupts. ¡°Giants?¡± I point my finger up into the distance and test the trick my grandpa taught me years ago. We were sitting in the garden, and I wondered how tall the trees were in the distance. Mostly poplars, tall as an apartment building. I had to extend my arm, point my finger up, and by the length of my arm, I could get a rough estimate. It worked pretty well, measuring trees a few dozen meters from us. But this thing... Well, at least I¡¯ll try. ¡°Hmm." Pointing and fidgeting with my right arm, I close one eye and mumble some numbers under my breath. "That castle is about 300 meters tall. It¡¯s about half a kilometer wide.¡± Astrid is surprised, and so is Mike, though he hides it well, keeping his cool as always. ¡°Go on,¡± Harald acknowledges. I whisper to myself, counting how many times what seem to be doors could be stacked on top of each other to make up the 300 meters I estimated. ¡°If I''m close at all, whatever lives there must be about 20 meters tall, judging by the size of the doors.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s hope not,¡± the old man adds. ¡°Damn, I wish I had a camera right now,¡± is all Mike can say. "So do I." I add.
I decide for the group to take the next step. ¡°Harald, this heat, Mike¡¯s wounds, and dehydration. We really need to find the merchant or inn or whatever and take a day or two, or three off. Where was that car?¡± ¡°Close to the fire. But it seems the dunes have already covered it,¡± he says, his wrinkled forehead telling me everything. ¡°You mean the same firepit where we ¡®saved¡¯ our progress by taking a nap?¡± Astrid asks, cutely making air quotes around ¡®saved.¡¯ ¡°No bowl, no floating. Just a regular firepit. But there¡¯s a possibility. I didn¡¯t dare to dig under the firepit.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t see any of those miracles¡ªlike a castle or volcano. I was definitely closer to the green area and never made it over this huge dune.¡± "What if we call Pocco?" Astrid hints. "Can we leave this for later? I''m in no mood for getting harrassed. We need to ask him some questions anyway." I scoff. "Give me a chance, if I fail we ask for help." Harald confirms with me. That¡¯s more than enough info, so we continue walking toward the place we came from, maybe steering a bit toward the sequoias. As always, I and the old man lead the party, with Mike and Astrid chatting behind us. I envy Mike¡¯s headscarf, as I can feel the heat boiling my blood. At least the lucky old man has his grayish cap with a security sign.
I''ve waited a good few dozens minutes for them to reach my landing spot, but this trip feels way longer. I catch myself counting steps to get anywhere close, as the heat burns the top of my head. Suddenly, I feel relaxed and cozy. Did the heat just take over? Is my brain cooked? I look at Harald, and he seems to be enjoying the trip all of a sudden, closing his eyes like he¡¯s about to fall asleep. I glance back at Mike and Astrid, and they look tired too. I open my eyes wide. Could it be? ¡°Harald!¡± I shake his arm. What if the safe fire is close by? I''ve only felt this cozy twice since we''ve been here. Once, at the first fire in that creepy dungeon infested with armored spiders. Both times, there was this feeling.
I stop and sit on the ground. The feeling of calmness grows even stronger. ¡°Is everyone feeling the same?¡± I ask aloud, but calmly. ¡°Yes,¡± Astrid responds with a big yawn, sitting down in the sand. Mike follows. ¡°I think we should start digging here.¡± *Clang* Harald takes a few steps forward and stops after a loud clang. He raises his leg and stomps on the spot. The sound repeats, and now we¡¯re all awake. He quickly kneels down and brushes the sand away from the metal plate. ¡°What the fuck?¡± Chapter 62 - Ancient Fossil ¡°What happened, is it the car?¡± I ask him. "Hmm." He exhales a bit disappointed. ¡°I thought so, but it''s not.¡± The old man answers. Mike becomes instantly preoccupied and takes over the situation. He stands up swiftly and moves closer to the finding, crouching down he knocks on top of the plate. I glance at Astrid, and we share a look of both worry and excitement over what this might be. As I get closer to the old man standing, resting his hand on his hip and Mike on all four, I notice a shiny, metal-like plate beneath the sand, weathered and covered in scratches. This might not be his car¡ªunless it¡¯s some old piece of scrap. Now both of them are kneeling, uncovering the mysterious object with their hands, swiping away the sand, revealing the surface more. It''s about the size of a large dining table, but with rough edges. The more they uncover it''s clear that it¡¯s no longer rectangular, though¡ªmore like an oval now, like a stone slab whose edges were roughly chiseled down. *Thud, thud* Mike tries banging on the top with his fists again. ¡°Not hollow.¡± He adds. "So it''s not the car right?" I ask, eyebrows raised. "Of course not." Harald confirms with a nod too. ¡°Should we even bother with this then? Let¡¯s move on and start digging up the firepit,¡± I suggest, turning back to the cozier spot we found earlier.
Astrid follows me towards the cozy area, and we start digging like dogs, tossing large portions of sand behind us. Meanwhile, Mike and Harald keep working on the weird slab. They knock on it with the butt of a gun and their fists and share thoughts. ¡°Not getting any help from you, huh?¡± I call out to them. They completely ignore me, intent on dusting off the slab.
We¡¯re about knee-deep in the sand when a small flame flickers between the particles. Astrid locks eyes with me, smiling, followed by a huge yawn. "This is it!" She cheers and yawns again. The more we uncover the flame, the sleepier and cozier I feel, too. Astrid closes her eyes for a moment and almost falls over, but catches herself. ¡°Ugh,¡± she mutters, opening her eyes. ¡°I must¡¯ve dozed off for a second.¡± "Welcome to your updated save spot then." I note with a smirk.
We keep digging for a few dozen minutes, pausing occasionally for a sip of water¡ªits temperature and freshness perfectly preserved, thanks to the inventory''s ability to stop time. The familiar bronze bowl rim¡ªthe same one we¡¯ve seen twice before¡ªcomes into view. ¡°Fair enough, right?¡± I ask, and we exchange a glance. ¡°It¡¯ll probably get buried in sand again in a few days or maybe even hours anyway. But we have it confirmed.¡± ¡°Will you mark it?¡± I ask as I open my inventory. A modern ballpoint pen and a crusty paper materialize in my hand. ¡°Yeah. Let me make sure we are in the correct spot..¡± She estimates our position, asking for confirmation. Then she draws a small flame icon on the map, the same as she did before. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°We¡¯re done here,¡± I call out to Mike and Harald. They both stand up, glancing at us with smirks. ¡°You should come check this out,¡± Mike says. Tediously getting up on my feet after almost falling asleep I need to support myself while standing up. We relocate close to the old man and clearly already sunburnt tall guy. ¡°Damn,¡± I mutter to myself in surprise. The slab turns out to be part of a fossil¡ªthick as a leg, it¡¯s a heavy stone slab resting on top of a strange creature with the same rough texture. It¡¯s disgusting, yet it looks ancient and long dead, so I don¡¯t even flinch. ¡°I recognize this!¡± Astrid exclaims, pointing her brittle finger. ¡°It looks like a trilobite fossil, but with more armor around. No health bar or anything... it might just be a rock that was once a creature.¡± She adds. I have no idea where the front or back of the thing might be. No eyes, no visible features¡ªjust a wide set of bones arranged like a comb. "Gills, maybe?" I wonder. But something feels off. There¡¯s a dozen legs sticking out from the bottom, buried in the sand. ¡°Are we digging deeper?¡± Mike asks Harald. From their expressions, I can tell they¡¯re eager to.
I stand beside Astrid, watching as they dig and reveal more of the legs. ¡°You know what? Let me be useful again.¡± I say to them. ¡°Point me toward where you think the car might be, and we will find it!¡± I blatantly promise something I cannot. Harald stands up with a grunt, looks around, and points a few dozen meters from the firepit we dug up with Astrid.
We start walking in that direction, taking a quick glance back. What shocks me a little is how massive the fossil looks compared to the three people standing next to it. They¡¯re digging deeply, trying to uncover how far down the legs go. As we walk for a few minutes under the heat of the sun toward the point Harald indicated, I stomp firmly, hoping to feel some change beneath my feet. "Shouldn''t we just ask Pocco?" Astrid frowns. Before she can even finish her question, a *Clang* resonates from beneath my feet. We stop immediately. "I don''t think so," I say, glancing at the pale, sweaty girl. "A bit suspicious right?" I ask. She shrugs her shoulders. I wasn¡¯t expecting to find anything quickly, but it happened. After calculating how vast, large, and ever-changing this desert is, I¡¯m genuinely surprised. This definitely feels and sounds different from my previous stomps. I drop to my knees and start sweeping away large portions of sand. Eager sunburnt ginger girls help right away. Revealing something sturdy and shiny beneath, we cheer up. ¡°Bingo!¡± "Look at this! Shiny paint, definitely metal." We look at each other, she knocks on it gently with her fingernails. The first small spot reveals bright yellow paint. "Not something you''d expect to find out here." I note. I use my right knee to wipe away the dust with the fabric of my pants and she helps with her dress. The shiny car paint beneath confirms my suspicion. "Yellow, huh? What kind of car is yellow¡ªa taxi?" I ask. "I recall Harald mentioning something about being a security guard." Notes the girl. A twinge of unease creeps in as I imagine different scenarios. What if there¡¯s a taxi driver still inside? I¡¯ve become desensitized to gore, but no one enjoys finding a rotting corpse unexpectedly. And in this heat¡­ I shudder at the thought.
Deciding to take a break, we celebrate the luck of finding the car so quickly with a drink. I open my inventory and pull out a water bottle, drinking the last few drops. We cheer with our bottles. Then I grab a plastic container full of cooked fox meat and take a quick snack. Refreshed but still a bit unsettled, I can¡¯t shake the worst parasite of all: a thought. One small thought can completely take over your mind at the worst possible moment. Right now, it¡¯s the thought of a decaying corpse beneath me while I eat this saucy meat.
Jogging back over to Mike and Harald¡¯s digging spot I stop with my mouth open. ¡°Jesus fucking hell.. What on earth is this?¡± Those twelve tentacle-like legs are disgusting and creep me out to unimaginable levels. I hate spiders, but now, for some reason, I¡¯m starting to dislike turtles too and everything that has eight or more legs. Both guys are now trying to push the trilobite-like creature onto its side. It tilts a little, but that¡¯s all. ¡°Wasn¡¯t this a complete waste of energy?¡± I say, raising an eyebrow and shading my eyes from the sun with my hand. ¡°Oh, and by the way, I found your yellow car.¡± I emphasize yellow. ¡°Really? That¡¯s excellent news,¡± Harald responds, clearly cheered up. ¡°Markus,¡± Mike says, looking me dead in the eye, as if trying to connect with me. ¡°A statue? Out here in the middle of nowhere?¡± He raises his eyebrows. ¡°There could be treasure inside!¡± He semi whispers. ¡°You¡¯re the hammer guy¡ªsmash it!¡± Harald, ignoring us, walks over to the car and I pull out my newly upgraded sledgehammer. Astrid stays with us, sitting nearby. ¡°Side or top?¡± I ask Mike. ¡°Top. The tilt gives us a good angle.¡± No further answers, just a surge of energy coursing through my upper body. My bicep and tricep, thick as my calf, swing the hammer overhead. *Satisfying bonk* The sledgehammer warps slightly upon impact, but it doesn''t do much damage. The outer layer shatters at least, visible cracks radiating from the impact. ¡°Not bad,¡± I say aloud, comforting myself as my mouth turns downward. ¡°This is probably the thickest part of it, right?¡± I prepare for another swing.
¡°Ah shit, ah shit.¡± I instinctively channel more power. In shock, we all stare at the newly formed floating health bar above the trilobite fossil. It¡¯s slightly depleted, and a name appears: Acid Flathead, Level 49 It just stays there tilted with a crack on top, lifeless. ¡°Why isn¡¯t it moving?¡± Astrid asks, her voice laced with worry. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Mike replies. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s trapped in this rock-solid state?¡± "Move aside!" *Bonk, with a slight crackling echo* As I strike again. The sound is really satisfying, but it¡¯s followed by a foreboding menace. ¡°Did I just untrap it?¡± The creature starts to move and uses its tentacles to roll out of the pit Mike and Harald dug around it. The crack that I had thought was just superficial begins to open. *Disgusting blurp* Astrid lets out a horrendous scream and collapses on the ground. Chapter 63 - Deadly Substance She stares, speechless, from the massive shock and pain. Astrid¡¯s legs from the knee down are suddenly covered in a shiny, yellow liquid¡ªlike gasoline. Deeply soaked over her dress and tights. Her legs are liquefying, the skin is dissolving right before our eyes and so does the flesh and bones. ¡°Astrid!¡± I scream. ¡°Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!¡± Mike holds his hands up in panic. With a horrifying expression, Harald cocks his gun, ready to tackle the thing. I¡¯m staggered by the fact her flesh is slowly melting down, yet she doesn¡¯t scream or react. Is she still in shock? Why hasn¡¯t she fainted? Flathead closes its mouth right after the burp and seems to be preparing for another one. I act quickly. *Swoosh* *Blunt blow* My next swing lands on the top of its flat head. The health bar barely changes since I miss the same spot as before. Timing my next attack to be as precise as possible, I act in a rush, focusing only on one of the three holes, not fully realizing how dangerous the foe in front of me is. If I die, what would they do? Run? They wouldn¡¯t be able to use my hammer. Shotgun again? I ask myself. Harald needs to find a quick supply of ammo or some other solution. I focus only on the second spot, that¡¯s the one I''ve hit hardest. The thing is starting to open its mouth again. Another deadly burp of acid that melts flesh is the last thing I need. Rappelling myself in the air, I hit the spot with, luckily, surgical precision. *Bonk* It squelches a bit; I must¡¯ve hit some tissue that seems to be underneath the rock solid armor. A quick peek at the health bar proves me right. It shrinks a good amount. Yes! Completely ignorant of the fact that this might be the deadliest encounter yet, as it can literally melt flesh in mere seconds I celebrate my strike. But do I need to go deeper? My glock! Suddenly, victory is within my grasp. *Blurp* The thing pukes another round of acid, but mostly underneath itself, as it¡¯s somehow stunned by the hit. Bright yellow liquid soaks into the sand, and a few droplets spurt outwards. ¡°Aargh.¡± I start to feel terrible pain in my left hand, but I must ignore it! I don¡¯t even glance at it. Whatever happened, it¡¯s not important now. Mike is trying to pull the poor girl out of this mess; her shoes are lying in the sand, covered in goo, where she was hit first. The trail of blood and acid mixed with sand is all that¡¯s left after the dragging. I''m yelling. Mike screams at her in panic and drags her away through the sand.
The only one who isn¡¯t making a sound now is the victim herself. Harald shouts to us while sprinting around. The creature makes gulping, unpleasant insect noises. Mike talks to Astrid loudly. I scream in the heat of battle, grasping my flexible sledgehammer tightly. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. The thing is prepping for the next attack. I¡¯ve learned the sound and the pose it makes from the last one. This is my chance. Mike¡¯s sword puncturing one of the holes isn¡¯t viable right now. ¡°Inventory!¡± I growl through my teeth. My glock is out¡ªtime to switch the safety off and shoot it before it moves again. I look the old man in the eye while releasing the tiny handle. I quickly reposition near the flathead, while it seems still stunned and tries to aim. My heavy bonk must have resonated for quite a while inside its body. It swirls away with its tentacle legs and starts zig-zagging, burying itself in and out of the sand. Terrified by how fast and uneasy the movement is I decide that the shooting option is off the table. Quickly stashing the glock I prepare for another hammer blow. ¡°Don¡¯t even get close! This thing spits acid that dissolves flesh. Go help Astrid!¡± I yell at Harald, who¡¯s running with his shotgun in hand. What?!¡± he asks loudly. ¡°I¡¯ll be back up, at least! ¡°No! Stay out of this. If I die, retrieve my hammer somehow¡ªor maybe don¡¯t!¡± I order him. He nods quickly and starts to jog backward, trying to gain at least some control of the situation. The Acid Flathead circles around me like a vulture stalking prey. I follow it, turning in place. It seems that this is going nowhere. ¡°You know what, bastard?¡± I mutter through gritted teeth. ¡°I¡¯ll camp here!¡± I plant my feet firmly, getting solid footing. Time to power up. I grip the handle of my sledgehammer with both hands, but something feels off. A small part of my left palm is missing, along with my pinky finger. It looks like it melted, leaving only burnt black scar tissue. I don¡¯t feel any pain. Strange. I¡¯ll have to analyze this later¡ªafter the battle. Whatever the result may be. My power surges from my core again, and I can see my arms bulking up once more. I glance at my arm. The skin is nearly bursting. Wait! What the hell! It¡¯s never been this thick! I still don¡¯t feel anything. Blood starts dripping from under my fingernails. Oh, shit! So I get it now. I stop channeling and hold my current state. ¡°Come on, fucker!¡± The Flathead circling tightens. I hear the bubbling sound before the burp. Now! It¡¯s going to attack! It¡¯s now or never. I gamble on a dodge and hit. Just before it opens its mouth again, I leap to the right. Luck is in my favor! The flat surface of its head is perfectly aligned for my strike. This is a miraculously lucky shot¡ªI can¡¯t risk prolonging this fight. I release more power into my arms. The flesh in other parts of my body shrinks and shifts mostly to my triceps and forearms. I grip the hammer handle so tightly I see it getting squeezed. Blood starts flowing out from under my fingernails, but I don¡¯t care about the pain as it is non-existent. My concentration is godlike, compared to the constant pain that used to accompany overextending my power. "Aaaaaaaargh!" *Bang* The hammer smashes into the creature¡¯s head. Due to enchantment it must''ve been so heavy, the handle bends almost sixty degrees. The hammer¡¯s head and handle tear right through the solid, rocky armored piece, ripping part of the monster off. The health bar depletes instantly. *Ding* "I got the kill!" I yell out loud! The dent left behind is filled with what looks like intestines¡ªtubes and deflating parts, all the same color as the creature¡¯s exterior. Surprisingly, not a single drop of acid leaks from the wound.
Harald cheers victoriously and jogs toward me. ¡°Boy, you went over your limit, didn¡¯t you? Are you okay?¡± He checks my bloody arms and missing finger. I nod, feeling strangely calm. ¡°You were never that big before. Are you in shock? The blood spurting from your fingertips was uncomfortable to watch.¡± He looks worried. ¡°I don¡¯t feel any pain. Just like Astrid.¡± I raise my eyebrows. ¡°Her legs melted off, Harald,¡± I say, my voice grim. His worried expression deepens, his face wrinkling with concern. ¡°Check on Astrid. I¡¯ll be waiting by your car, okay?¡± I order him. He nods but stops as he sees my face with a hint of fear. ¡°There¡¯s no one else in the car, right?¡± I ask, my mouth trembles. ¡°Of course not,¡± he replies instantly.
I exhale in relief and begin to examine the damage. My skin is stretched tight; my arms are bruised, nearly purple. I touch the wound on my left hand and poke the dangling burnt flesh. ¡°Yuck!¡± Still, no pain, so I decide to clean the wound, at least the part that¡¯s bothering me most¡ªthe dangling flesh. Maybe my nerve endings are fried? What if I feel it when I pull it off? I take a deep breath. There¡¯s only one way to find out *Pluck* I tear off the barely-attached flesh, and my head spins for a moment. "Phew." "Dear god, that¡¯s insane."
I sit there in the heat, though I don¡¯t feel it. My energy levels are stable, and all the discomfort that had distracted me is gone. An extreme sense of joy fills me. This substance is overpowered. I need to analyze what happened, but I see Harald returning, holding Astrid in his arms. Her dress is folded over her stumps. Mike stops by to pick up her shoes and socks. I need to harvest the acid¡ªit¡¯s precious. Opening my inventory, I take out one of the two water bottles, and approach the creature. That big sack hanging out of the crevice is my best bet. I take out the lid of one of the meat containers Harald gave me and position it underneath. *Stab* One precise stab, and the acid starts to pour into the shallow lid. I carefully crouch by and try to drain it into the bottle. Chapter 64 - Deadlift I don¡¯t know how long this magical potion will last, but the idea that even a droplet could paralyze my pain receptors is amazing. My to-do list expands slightly. I need more bottles. But first I need to carefully handle this one. Cork stopper is not on a trusted materials list, handling with acid strong like that. I carefully put it on top and press it down with my sneaker. The leftover acid on the bottle body must be wiped out. To both, test the bottle and clean the surface, I kick and roll it gently in the sand with my feet. The bottle seems to be okay and so does the cork on top. It¡¯s not leaking at all, but I notice it got soaked. I definitely need to avoid touching that thing. A lot comes through my mind. Now I would love to simply sit or lay down and think, but the party is almost again near my position. Gosh, I can¡¯t wait for the night. Every day something new happens, that changes my schedule and forms my thoughts. And there''s that Pocco summon awaiting us, well at least for me, if Astrid didn''t cheat already.
¡°Look.¡± I raise up the bottle carefully, holding it with two fingers as far as possible from the cork top. ¡°I¡¯ve managed to harvest some of the acid. It seems to be completely disabling every single pain receptor in my body. Don¡¯t know for how long, but...¡± I raise my hand and show them the damage. Astrid looks me in the eye. ¡°I¡¯ve never felt that refreshed since we are here together,¡± says the girl lying in Harald¡¯s arms. Mike hands her her socks and shoes, which have already dried out under the heat. ¡°Can you please put me down? I need to cover these with socks.¡± He gently puts her on the ground. Mike stands and looks. ¡°Don¡¯t look at this!¡± We all turn our sights away. She rolls her socks over the stumps. ¡°Harald, will you?¡± she asks. He crouches to lift her up. ¡°No, I mean, to finish it off.¡±
Mike drops his mouth, I open my eyes wide too. ¡°What are you talking about?¡± he says as he raises her back up. ¡°I am the burden for all of you.¡± Worried face, sad eyes. Mike steps into this and starts to whisper to her closely. ¡°Don¡¯t say such things. Don¡¯t waste a life because of this. I¡¯ll carry you.¡± They talk quietly for a moment, I hide the acid bottle carefully in my inventory in the meantime. Mike strongly insists on taking her from Harald and is adamant, even though he''s physically weaker than both Harald and me. Logic says I should be the one holding her, but we all know that wouldn¡¯t be a good idea. He carefully inserts his hands underneath her and holds her. She puts her arms over his neck and locks in place. I see he struggles a bit. Despite being small, and now even lighter because of missing limbs, this will drain him very fast. ¡°Harald, you were talking about seatbelts, which we can use as shield handles. Can¡¯t you make something for Astrid to carry her?¡± I ask carefully. Mike does not give any reaction to this. ¡°We can work something out.¡± He winks and proceeds to walk toward the car area. He gives a stare at the creature carcass meanwhile. ¡°I think we can hunt these, if there are any more of them. That acid is precious.¡± I explain to him eagerly, gesticulating. ¡°Imagine how it could help with the training. Body regenerates after death anyway. But not being distracted by any pain anymore? Just imagine!¡± I continue. He still shakes his head a little. ¡°Feeling no pain is not a gift. That¡¯s a curse, Markus.¡± If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
We arrive at the car crash area and Harald crouches down. He pats the car roof and starts to uncover more of it. ¡°Need a hand?¡± Mike offers his help. The old man nods, and Mike carefully puts Astrid down in a comfortable position. They start to rake the sand out of the way. The more the roof is uncovered, the bigger it gets, two roof racks on top are uncovered with the process. Astrid crawls onto the site and starts raking too with her skinny arms. They both let her continue as she insists. I stand there and gaze. Not helping. Thinking. ¡°Guys, could you stop and move aside a little bit?¡± I ask while touching my chin. ¡°What is it now, Markus?¡± Harald asks, not surprised at all. I take out my hammer and grab it tight. ¡°Hey, wait! What are you...?¡± ¡°Ssh,¡± I hush them and show them to move away a bit. I feel the tension in my arms as I raise the hammer, but not any pain. If this doesn¡¯t work, it will be awkward as hell. I bet I acted too cool for what I¡¯m just going to test. I brace myself with the hammer and prepare for a fast attack. *Swoosh* I see nothing. I bet no one sees anything. It must¡¯ve worked, definitely. There¡¯s a ton of sand in the air. If only the wind were blowing, it would help clear the air, so I wait a bit and finally stop squinting. *Cough, cough* ¡°I¡¯m well surprised, Markus,¡± Harald notes while covering his face with a sleeve. With just one swing, I blew off the same amount of sand I could rake manually in a few minutes. ¡°I will help with big chunks first, but I can¡¯t go any closer as I could easily damage the car.¡± I explain to them that this job will not be done just by me. *Swoosh* Another fast and powerful swoosh, and I blow away about the same portion as before. Analyzing the strain on my arms again after a few blows I can see that my poor skin is even more disgusting now. I need to lower the power amount! Bet these will hurt like hell, but due to the magical acid, I¡¯m more than fit. ¡°Astrid, Markus. You can get easily dehydrated and pass out due to heat. Remember, you don¡¯t have your body¡¯s limit warning gauge¡ªthe pain.¡± Harald lectures us. ¡°I promise, this is the last job for today.¡± I look in the distance, inhale deeply, and try to both enjoy and wait for some wind to help me with the blow. *Swoosh* It finally starts to blow and in the desired direction. I do a few more of them until it¡¯s done.
¡°Wow, so yellow hummer, after all?¡± I¡¯m not the only one surprised. ¡°Is this what security uses these days?¡± Mike asks him. ¡°Not an ordinary one. Special, private one. That I hired.¡± ¡°Hired?¡± say Astrid and I at the same time. I raise my eyebrows and wait for the answers. ¡°Yes, to start searching for a missing person. But that¡¯s more than I¡¯m willing to tell you now. Sorry.¡± He ends the debate bluntly. I nod at him, signaling that my part of digging is done. And so is asking further questions. Mike dives near the car headfirst and starts to rake. ¡°Stop, Mike. I appreciate your zeal, but...¡± He raises his fingers and dangles a keychain. ¡°Let¡¯s give it a chance to dig itself out.¡± He meticulously presses himself through the small crack of the barely opened door. ¡°Now, the moment of truth,¡± he says, muffled through the car window. *Repeating engine starting sounds* I bet he is praying now. The more he tries, the higher the chance the battery will die. Mike leans into the hole, looking at him through the window, and gently knocks on the glass. ¡°How much gas do you even have? Is it worth it?¡± He starts asking. ¡°More than half.¡± ¡°What a fucking waste,¡± he angrily slaps the steering wheel after another unsuccessful try. *Wrooom*
Guess luck is on his side today. Zero damage taken, and the goal for today reached. Now I want to see this monstrosity climb out of a sand pit. A smile appears on my face as I can hear some cheering muffled by the engine revving as the old man must be celebrating on his own. ¡°You think this will work?¡± Mike asks me. ¡°I doubt it, but let¡¯s see.¡± Astrid crawls a little farther away, and we also back out. The engine revs, and the car starts throwing piles of sand. It moves forward but not significantly. "I want Harald to enjoy his moment." As the hummer makes a huge mess, flinging sand everywhere, I slip behind it, unnoticed by Harald in his side-view mirrors. My control of my power is harder to focus on now but I feel that I need to do this. I crouch under the car, hook my arms underneath, and push up. I can see the stitches on my pants are about to burst. The muscle mass expands uncontrollably. "Aaaaaargh!" I yell with the last push. This is enough to push it up and forward, burying myself in the sand.
The car revs in the distance as Harald drives through the desert. I can¡¯t see it, but from the cheers of Astrid and Mike, I know it has been successful. ¡°I need a hand here!¡± I yell out of the hole jokingly, being about two meters under the surface. ¡°And I need a leg! Maybe two,¡± adds Astrid. This makes me blow all of the sand out of my mouth. God, I thought I was the only one with such dark humor. Mike quickly hops in and pulls me up. The car and the noise slowly disappear into the distance. We look at each other with raised eyebrows. ¡°No. It can¡¯t be. Right?¡± Chapter 65 - Middle Age Crisis Sitting around the empty hole we are still confused. The car engine rev is slowly fading in the distance. After a few more moments we can¡¯t hear the car engine anymore. Only the pile of sand and dust is left, which is still settling down. Astrid lies on the ground, legless, seeing even less. Mike looks at me, confused, with his one uncovered eye. I look in the distance and the more the car engine sound fades, the more both worried and sad I feel. We don¡¯t speak, only wait. Do they think it¡¯s embarrassing to be suspicious openly, yet? I speculate. Why would he do this, what''s the outcome? Using us to get safely here and using me to lift the car? Why on earth?! I keep staring, not blinking, ignoring the fact that dust gets in my widely opened eyes. Or maybe it''s the acid. I don''t feel anything. What an uncomfortable tension, this whole situation. Show up old man! I keep repeating in my head. ¡°Maybe he¡¯s in trouble? What if he ran over some more of those acid creatures?¡± Astrid says, supporting herself on her elbows. ¡°Ah, yes. Yes, of course, that might be it!" I suddenly cheer up. Why wasn¡¯t I thinking about this at all and instead assumed right away that he abandoned us? Is it because I had similar thoughts not too long ago? "We will follow the trail. It¡¯s toward the forest we came from anyway,¡± I answer cheerfully again, throwing the possibility that he left us for good out of my head.
Standing up and dusting myself off, I have the urge to offer to carry Astrid, but I know Mike wouldn¡¯t like that, despite his wounds and overall lack of strength. I nod at them and decide to lead the way. Mike picks her up with a slight grunt and they chit-chat on the way, but I completely ignore it and focus on the slightest wind that occasionally blows. Despite feeling no pain, I can still feel uncomfortable. My forehead isn¡¯t even covered in sweat anymore. My water levels are far too low, yet I don¡¯t feel any pain or exhaustion and that is probably not good, as the old man said. After a few minutes of mindless walking through the heat my feelings are getting mixed¡ªI don¡¯t feel deceived or disappointed. Anger is slowly taking over as the rollercoaster of emotions goes through me. I clench my fist and I feel the energy automatically bursting from my core. "Shit." They will notice. I look at my fist and it¡¯s already swollen, the effect fading up to my elbow. "Hush!" I keep gazing into the distance, focusing on the goal of getting out of the sun. I envy the couple a bit, as Astrid pulls out the wing from the giant rhinoceros beetle and holds it above them both, shielding them from the sun.
We continue walking through the dense sand, and my sneakers keep sinking almost completely into it. Each step feels exhausting, but mostly for Mike, as he pants. I can hear him struggling to carry her, but I¡¯m battling an inner struggle to offer my help. After a few more steps, I decide to give this an ultimatum. If he doesn¡¯t show up in thirty seconds, I¡¯m going to blow up! Maybe I¡¯ll start jumping around with my Focus again to reach the forest faster, the one we came from. Or maybe... maybe it¡¯s time for the little Jerk. I think angrily in my head, even catching myself clenching my teeth. "Astrid?!" I almost raised my voice at her. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. She has her hand poised, ready to snap, and nods at me. One glance, and we both know what¡¯s coming. "Give it thirty seconds, then snap," I tell her, slightly passive-aggressively. She nods. I start counting. Thirty. Twenty-nine. Twenty-eight. Twenty-seven... Sixteen. Fifteen. Gosh! Fourteen. Thirteen. I pause the count. The wind carries a faint sound with it, amplifying. *Vrooooooooom* I immediately look back at the couple. Mike¡¯s headscarf is wet and he seems more than exhausted. Astrid looks directly at me with a wide smile. The struggle is finally over. I would never have guessed that an engine rev would be the most liberating sound. We stop walking and sit down, gazing at the car¡¯s headlights as they approach us. The cloud of sand rises and swirls turbulently behind the approaching vehicle. Our weapons are hidden in our inventories while I scroll through my items, wondering if it¡¯s even safe to take out the acid bottle with my bare hands, without touching the cork. Astrid leans her back against Mike¡¯s, and we peacefully wait.
The almost invisible yellow hummer in the middle of the desert starts honking its horn suddenly. ¡°Uh, yeah. I¡¯m not sure why he¡¯s so excited,¡± Mike says, looking at me. ¡°Like, well, how much gas could he even have?¡± he adds, raising an eyebrow. ¡°Old men and their cars,¡± I say. *Honk. Honk.* *Honk. Honk. Honk. Honk. Honk.* ¡°Seriously, what the heck,¡± Mike says again. *Honk. Honk. Honk. Honk. Honk.* ¡°Is it just me, or is he coming faster?¡± notes the immobilized Astrid. Harald continues honking furiously. We quickly realize it¡¯s time to get up. To ease the hardest part, which is lifting from the ground, I boldly decide to lift Astrid. With such ease I almost threw her up in the air, helping Mike get her into his arms. She looks surprised and amused by the brief look in her eyes, or so I assume. We gather up and wait. The furious honking continues, and I honestly don¡¯t know what to expect. I have a suspicion, but I really hope it¡¯s not the truth. In addition to honking, Harald starts blinking his distant lights on and off. From that, I know one thing: we need to get to the car as fast as possible. ¡°Mike, give her to me. We need to move fast. You go sit in the passenger seat, but open the back door for us first.¡± He gives me a confused look and hesitates for a second. Then, he carefully hands me the girl. I hold her rock solid and stable. It feels like I¡¯m not holding anything at all. Maybe it¡¯s due to the acid effect or my muscle mass combined with my high strength level getting used to the weight of my hammer.
The car is nearby, and the cloud of sand swirls around the area, rendering our eyes useless. ¡°Get in, quickly!¡± "In! Now!" Mike barely manages to open the back door, and I throw myself inside, smashing my back and head against the car¡¯s interior while protecting Astrid from even the slightest bump. The engine revs, and Harald makes the quickest U-turn possible. His driver-side window is still slightly open, letting in sand and dust, and the old man screams. I¡¯m not sure if it¡¯s from pain, fear, or excitement. He immediately closes the window gap and drives as fast as possible. *Bang* The car stutters for a moment.
As we finally gain some distance from the point of the U-turn, the surroundings come into focus. A vast desert stretches out, with tire tracks and strange veiny marks surrounding it. ¡°Did you just wake up all the acid bugs?¡± I yell at him from the back. ¡°Apparently.¡± He turns his head toward me. Astrid and I flinch. At first, I thought it¡¯s dirt or a scab on his right cheek, but I can see clearly now¡ªa white tooth is visible through a hole in his cheek. ¡°How much gas do you even have, man?¡± Mike asks angrily with his one eye. ¡°Enough for a few more trips. If we don¡¯t find an alternative, that is. Now let¡¯s head back to known territory, the canyon.¡± He yells back. We sigh. What else can we do?
I decide to lighten the mood. ¡°Welcome to the club of eternal painkiller users!¡± Harald scoffs. ¡°I never thought I¡¯d feel so rejuvenated.¡± He glances back at us while driving fast and straight toward the forest. I take a peek at Astrid, she¡¯s lying there relaxed, meeting my eyes for a second. I quickly look out the window again. The trilobite-like creatures with flat tops are roaming the desert, scouting. They seem fast, but not fast enough to outrun the car at full speed. We approach the forest, and the old man finally slows down, testing the brakes after a long sandy drive. He carefully navigates through some bushes and into the forest where we fought the scarabs. ¡°Darn, I had a feeling these hard-packed soil roads after the dung balls would work for us,¡± I say to the old man. He smiles widely, and the burnt circular wound on his cheek stretches slightly. ¡°Jeez,¡± Mike says loudly. Harald quickly pulls down the mirror to check. ¡°Tsk,¡± he mutters. ¡°Could¡¯ve been worse.¡± He adds while checking his face in the mirror. ¡°It IS worse!¡± I open the car door while the car is still moving and jump. Chapter 66 - Acid *Thud* I slam my shoulder and elbow hard into the muddy road. ¡°Inventory!¡± I shout loudly, quickly rolling in the dirt as I open it. The flexible handle of my hammer starts materializing in my right hand, and just as I finish my roll, it fully forms. There¡¯s no time to hesitate. My head is spinning, but I¡¯m already pushing myself back onto my feet, scanning the surroundings. I saw it! I know it! One of the flatheads had been tailing the car closely. At least I think I''ve seen the thing in the sand cloud behind the car. ¡°Where are you, you bastard?!¡± I yell. I hear the car speeding toward me again as Harald makes a quick U-turn. ¡°Markus!¡± A beautiful feminine voice calls out urgently. I turn back for a quick glance. Astrid leans out of the open car door, the bug shield materializing in her arms. She throws it with one hand, expertly aiming in my direction. I catch the shield in mid-air, slipping my left hand into one of the inner crevices. It indeed feels light like made out of styrofoam, yet it''s super sturdy. From where I stand, I notice the car has a small dent in the yellow front bumper, but the massive chrome guard has clearly done its job, protecting it from major damage. Suddenly, I hear the unnerving sound of countless legs scuttling all at once. A trilobite-like creature with a glowing health bar is approaching. I brace myself, holding my shield steady in front of me with one hand, gripping my sledgehammer tightly with the other. "Thanks Rhinoceros!" I thank the bug as I''m using its most prominent features as a shield and a weapon. My bicep is flexed, bulging with strength like I¡¯m a warrior about to face down a beast in ancient times. The car engine roars again, and I suddenly know that the first strike on the ancient beast won¡¯t be mine. Harald shifts gears with a loud *Clunk* and accelerates toward the flathead. There¡¯s no way it can dodge¡ªor maybe it just doesn''t care to. *Disgusting blurp* The creature spits a stream of acid across the car¡¯s hood and lights. I expect the car to blow up and cover my face but it does absolutely nothing to the car¡ªexcept for washing off the dirt and insects. *Bang* *Crack and squelch* The car rams into it, breaking all its insect legs in one hit. At least I assume by the sound. ¡°So that¡¯s what your acid does, huh?¡± I taunt the creature, observing its futile attempt. ¡°Organic matter dissolves in seconds, but it¡¯s useless against anything inorganic!¡± Harald yells out of the car window, and as he does he accidentally spits through the hole in his cheek. Hearing this, I can¡¯t help but feel a bit concerned about the shield Astrid gave me. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.
The flathead is knocked to the side, and its health bar shrinks by half. That¡¯s more like it! "We can take these things out with the car Harald!" I answer him, but he does not listen. He quickly shifts the gear shaft into reverse, getting ready to charge again. So I seize the moment and rush forward. The beast is slightly stunned, perfect for giving it a taste of my hammer. Still worried about what the acid might do to the shield and my hammer handle, I decide that dodging the next acid burp would be better than risking getting hit. I hoist the hammer high, channeling extra strength into my shoulders and back. With no pain to hold me back, I focus on the sight of my veins popping on my bicep and the area around me, preparing for the perfect dodge, if needed. There¡¯s no room for mistakes! *Bang* The flathead¡¯s body crumples under the hammer¡¯s blow, far more brittle than the fossilized ones covered in hardened stone. The hammer buries itself deep into the top of its head, and a nice chunk of its health bar disappears. Thank god for health bars. At least now I know I¡¯m actually doing damage, not like when I was fighting those longnecks without a clue. Not wasting any time, I swing again. *Bang* The next hit tears a massive piece of flesh from the creature¡¯s body, exposing its acid sack. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s harvesting time!¡± I shout, grinning. The creature¡¯s health bar is nearly gone, and a familiar sound rings out. It¡¯s been too long since I¡¯ve heard it, and I¡¯m starting to crave it. *Ding* I need more! The thought races through my mind, my excitement building. But in my victory, I let my guard down¡ªand that¡¯s when I make the mistake.
Just before it dies, the flathead releases one final acid burp aimed straight at me. The acid splashes against me, but my reflexes kick in just in time, and I instinctively raise the shield to block the worst of it. I watch in horror as the holes in the shield start growing bigger. The acid is eating right through it. "Shiiit!" I quickly drop it to the ground, and within moments, the shield melts into an unrecognizable jelly-like substance. ¡°Oh god!¡± I lean on my sledgehammer, checking myself for damage. Miraculously, I¡¯m unharmed. A wave of gratitude washes over me. Astrid saved me, but I can¡¯t bring myself to express it, not with Mike around. Am I starting to like her? I wonder to myself, trying to make sense of this strange feeling of gratitude. Shut up, you idiot! She would do the same for anyone! I quickly push those feelings aside and refocus on the situation at hand.
I hop back into the car. ¡°You okay?¡± Astrid asks, her voice soft but concerned. With a bit of surprise and a hint of regret, I answer. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m fine. Thanks. But... I lost your shield.¡± Harald cuts in before she can respond. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. You can have mine. I don¡¯t need it anyway.¡± "But I¡¯ll hand it to you once we¡¯re out of the car," he adds with a wide smile, though it¡¯s no longer a pleasant sight with the hole in his cheek. ¡°I need to borrow some of your bottles,¡± I say, leaning through the car¡¯s open door, eyeing the flathead¡¯s carcass. ¡°For harvesting the acid. Not really a loan¡ªyou can keep the acid.¡± I add.
Both Mike and Astrid hand me their water bottles without hesitation. ¡°Hold on, kids. We¡¯ll use the jug from the car,¡± Harald says, his voice calm. ¡°Give me a minute to find a safe spot to park.¡± I settle back into my seat, taking a deep breath. The smell of gasoline fills the air, and I can¡¯t help but find it oddly comforting. Since we got here, it¡¯s felt like we¡¯ve been cut off from the modern world. The familiar scent of gas and the soft, cushioned seats bring back a wave of nostalgia. It hasn¡¯t even been that long, but the thought that everything we knew is gone forever makes me feel strangely sad. But I brighten my mood with a single thought: my amazing magical muscle powers.
While I daydream, Harald finds a flat spot and turns off the engine. He hops out, leaving the door wide open and I watch as he rearranges the contents of the trunk¡ªrags, a wrench, the spare tire¡ªbefore grabbing a jug filled with blue liquid. Leaning into the car, he fumbles for the lever, popping the hood with a satisfying click. *Glo, glo, glo..* After dumping the jug¡¯s contents and refilling the windshield washer fluid, he hands the jug to me and asks for a rag. I get out of the car and leave Mike and Astrid chatting while I fumble around the trunk, eventually finding the rag. The trunk is nearly empty now, save for the spare tire and some basic tools. I know what comes next: pierce the acid sack, drain it into the jug, and finally, the most exciting part¡ªspending my skill point on endurance. Harald finishes cleaning the engine and walks back over to the flathead¡¯s corpse. I hear his footsteps approaching as I carefully position the jug. Pulling out a combat knife from his inventory, he stabs the acid sack. Forbidden liquid pours out, filling the jug and splashing all over it. ¡°Do you think we¡¯ll ever feel pain again?¡± Harald asks, his voice laced with concern, worry lines etched across his forehead. ¡°Honestly, Harald, I hope not. But let¡¯s just hope it doesn¡¯t wear off at the worst possible time.¡± He nods, handing me the polished jug after cleaning it with an oily rag. I watch him toss the rag onto the flathead¡¯s carcass. ¡°Keep it,¡± I say, as he tries to return the jug.
Back in the car, we start discussing our next move. My mind races as I lay out my plan. ¡°Here¡¯s the plan: we park by the crater, eat, and sleep. Tomorrow, we backtrack to loot our burning knight, restock on water, and maybe hunt some nutrias for meat. After that, we return and explore the cave from the map.¡± I catch my breath, trying to look serious. "Why not explore it right now? We are close!" Mike steps in. ¡°Seriously Mike?" Astrid frowns. "I¡¯d kill for a good soup right about now,¡± She adds, out of nowhere. ¡°Good. I¡¯ll make you one,¡± Harald replies, sounding nonchalant as ever. Chapter 67 - Interrogation We all nod at each other afterward and accept that the cruise can begin. Harald shifts gears with a loud clunk, and the massive car starts to roll. Its heavy tires trample the grass and soil, leaving wide tracks. I glance out the back window, paranoid that another Acid Flathead might be chasing us. *Bleep, bleep.* *Bleep, bleep.* I sit in the comfy car seat next to Astrid, feeling a little stiff, completely ignoring the awful noise from the seatbelt alarm. "Aargh," Astrid grunts, annoyed. Harald ignores the annoying beeping sound completely, focusing on the road, maneuvering to avoid trees and bushes, careful not to damage the car too much or get stuck in the mud or a hole. ¡°Mike, would you please?¡± Astrid rolls her eyes, asking him to stop the noise by finally clicking the seatbelt into place. Harald reacts quickly, solving this once and for all, handing Mike his knife. Mike gives him a weird look. ¡°Cut it off entirely. No one¡¯s going to fine us for not wearing a seatbelt, and we can use it to craft something. Astrid needs a carrier, and Markus might need to compress his arms,¡± Harald says, already making plans for what we might need the seatbelts for. For a moment, I bet Mike thought about stabbing the speakers. The old man clears his throat, as his mouth dries out quicker, due to the hole. ¡°And as for safety, that was the last furious drive. I promise.¡± Mike smiles a bit, then nods. He pants as he fiddles with the seatbelt for a minute, sweat dripping from his forehead as he finally manages to cut through it. "Yours too?" He looks at the old man. "Sure," Harald replies with a wide smile. I refuse to check his face in the rearview mirror to avoid the unpleasant sight of the hole in his cheek. Seriously, what the hell? The old man has his teeth exposed in a super creepy way, the girl here has melted stumps for legs, and Mike has that ugly wrinkled eye. Am I the only one who¡¯s not that messed up? I wonder, then I look at my left hand, momentarily forgetting that my pinkie is missing and the side of my palm is black and rotten. Never mind. I should check if these wounds are cauterized or not. It would be pretty lame if we died from some infection and woke up in the middle of the desert, surrounded by more acid-spewing creatures. Anyway, I should sleep soon, preferably near one of the well-known safe spots. So far, there''s only one¡ªthe "good" place, in the middle of the charred forest.
After the second cut is done, Mike inserts the free latch from his seatbelt into the buckle with a satisfying click. And the annoying beeping sound finally stops. Astrid and I both sigh in relief. Now, I can focus on the present moment and wander in my thoughts once more. Gazing out the car window, I inhale the plastic smell of the heated interior¡ªa brief taste of the modern world. But then I stop, realizing how strange it feels to be sitting in a car, which drives through a dense forest along narrow uneven paths and between trees and bushes. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Weird. This feels so unnatural. If this car ever went off-road, then this is truly an off-off-road ride. Harald seems preoccupied, constantly turning the steering wheel to avoid collisions with the flora, driving in low gear. The engine roars. "Harald?" I call to the old man. "What is it?" he replies, barely turning his head as he struggles to drive, but I''m glad I don''t have to look at his teeth through the burnt hole in his flesh. "About the car. Do you have any protection against flat tires?" I ask. He sighs. "Good question, bad timing. But yes, there¡¯s a pump and a spray that works from the car¡¯s outlet." "Mmmm." I nod. "What about the gasoline? Do you think the acid might work?" I ask, hoping I don''t sound dumb. "Err. Tricky question," he muses, managing the steering wheel. "We need to test if it''s combustible. It might work, might not. Probably not, but one never knows here," he says, sounding exhausted. I simply nod and stay quiet for the rest of the drive. Mike remains silent, which is a pleasant surprise.
Gazing out the window, I wonder if the crater will have the same effect on me when I see it again¡ªthe fear of depths is still strong. As we pass through the wolfpack territory and enter the colorful, mushroom-filled forest, I spot the gargantuan black hole on the horizon. The sinkhole looms between the trees in the distance. "Ugh." A shiver runs down my spine. The anxiety is almost the same as before, but I manage to hold myself together. Finally, close the to firepit the noisy car engine stops, easing the anxiety that something might be lurking, waiting for us. The handbrake is the last sound before the car finally parks. The old man exits the car right away. Mike follows, picking up Astrid. I stay inside, still afraid of the sinkhole, preparing myself to sort through my thoughts. After a few deep breaths, I decide to brighten my mood and strengthen my body with a point from the acid-spewing creatures.
Markus Hale foreigner level 64
Strength 60 Focus [Bonus Skill]
Agility 3 no skill
Willpower 4 no skill
Endurance 10 no skill
Magical ten. My body stiffens for a second, and I focus on one of the stretch marks. "Yes! I saw it!" I say to myself, sure that I¡¯ve seen the wound closing slightly. I¡¯ll avoid using my Focus power today at all costs; my body needs to start healing. So I start counting on my fingers.
  • Visit the cave from the map, near the desert.
  • Interrogate the cat. I sigh.
  • Search for the green berries near the snails.
  • Visit the godling again and ask for help fusing my hammer handle better.
I wonder if it¡¯s rude to ask for another favor, but this hammer handle doesn¡¯t feel as reliable as it used to. A few more heavy swings against something hard, and the hammerhead might fly off¡ªmaybe even hit someone, like Mike, for example. I chuckle. *Knock, knock* "This firewood ain¡¯t gonna gather itself, young man," Harald says, knocking on the window and assigning me the task.
After gathering the firewood, we finally sit around the fireplace while Harald quickly kindles more wood on top of the old charcoal from two days ago. Astrid supports herself on her elbows, looking uncomfortable, so I stand up. *Whoosh.* *Thud.* I place my rustic armchair in front of the firepit again and offer the seat to Astrid. Mike stands up immediately and helps her into it. Her legs no longer dangle from the tall throne. She has that look, and we all know what''s on her mind¡ªPocco. "Now," she says, nodding, her hand poised to snap her fingers. I shrug. What else can I do? *Snap.* *Poof.* The not-so-cute-anymore fluffy ball appears out of thin air, scurrying around again. "Pocco!" The girl says out loud. "Meow." "Talk to me, Pocco. You know how!" she orders. "Could you always talk? Are you a godling too? Why Markus? Why didn''t you speak to me before?" She bombards the poor animal with a list of unexpected questions. "Always." "No." "Jerk owner too." "Pfffft," Mike covers his mouth, only his good eye visible. Yo, what the heck! Did he just call me a jerk again? You little piece of shit! If I were your owner, the first thing we¡¯d do is go to the vet, and you''d end up lighter by two things. I clench my teeth and ball my fists. "How is he the owner? I don¡¯t get it!" She shakes her head. "Box. Gift," Pocco replies, struggling. With my eyebrows raised, I think back. I inhale deeply. "Err, if he¡¯s talking about the box, I remember something, but it¡¯s a foggy memory. It was so long ago¡ªI was a small kid receiving a gift from our neighbor, the old gray man in a wheelchair. A little kitten in a box. But my mom was very strict, and we couldn¡¯t afford to feed a pet. So yeah, I was only the owner for a few hours. But it can¡¯t be... right?" "Meow." *Poof* He disappears in a white dust cloud. "Call him back, immediately!" Astrid demands, issuing orders from her throne. "Okay, okay. Jeez." I respond, snapping my fingers again. Chapter 68 - Three Addicts *Snap* A second passes, and another *Poof* sounds at the same spot, the old and new dust clouds intersecting. He''s back, and I assume we have only a minute left. "So, is that you?" I continue questioning the rude cat. "Yes. Meow." I can see Mike is visibly uncomfortable with this. His eyes and the grimace on his face make it obvious. Another thing that doesn''t bind him and Astrid. I sigh. "What should I do with this information?" I shake my head. "What do you even want from me? Why me?" I ask, looking him directly in his blue-yellow eyes, noticing his long whiskers. "Meow. Statue. Find." The cat struggles to speak but repeats the words from our second encounter. "Pocco, what are you up to? What do you need from Mark? Is it the statue of another godling?" Astrid interrupts. "Time." He responds. I open my eyes wide. What is this? "Do you need more time?" I''m confused. "Yes. Meow." "Time to spend with us?" I ask him directly, then glance at the others. "Meow." He confirms. "The smithing godling mentioned one of the brothers and a pet¡ªcould it be the godling that has Pocco as a pet? What do you all think?" Mike leans back against the hood of the yellow Hummer, one leg raised on the front chrome bumper. Astrid nods, absorbing all the information. But Harald... I notice he pinches the skin on his left hand with two fingers, likely checking if he''s dreaming. "Why would you want to spend more t.." I stop mid-sentence, realizing my mistake. "So where is this statue, Pocco?" I ask louder, trying to cover up what I was about to say. "Sand. Desert." He struggles with the "s" sounds. *Poof* He vanishes again, leaving only a dust cloud behind. Astrid sighs. "We can discuss this over the soup." The old mentor lightens the mood.
After a warm discussion around the fire, we decided crossing the desert will be too risky. Instead, it would be better to visit the settlement I mentioned and look for green berries along the way. Finally, the usual night routine begins, though I feel an overwhelming discomfort. I can''t stand going a day without a shower or brushing my teeth at least three times. Now, with a scarred, dirty, and smelly body, I bury myself in the pile of leaves I made two days ago¡ªlike an animal. At least the fatty meat soup I drank from the silver pitcher left a good taste in my mouth. Mike tends to Astrid as she settles into her sleeping bagm yet I feel a bit more fortunate then them, with my ability Focus to generate heat as an extra function. As the night cools, I release my power calmly, training its fluidity again. The warmth around my feet is just enough to make me feel relaxed. I imagine myself by a stream, bathing and drinking clear water. New ideas spark¡ªI should submerge myself in cold water and test my power further. Will my body cool down, letting me use more energy? Will the bandages hold against my expanding skin? Or will the water heat up? If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. My thoughts scatter, my mind in chaos. But after the initial excitement about my power and its possibilities, I again remember my only family¡ªmy mom. Am I dead? Is this all just a dream? What if some drug released in my brain is making me experience my final, hallucinatory trip? Is my body lying in a trench in that forest, rotting away? Or has someone found me? Well, yeah, definitely. It wasn¡¯t medieval times back there. I imagine my funeral, hearing my mom¡ªthe only family I have¡ªcrying out loud. Maybe even classmates or teachers, the ones who liked me at least, attending. But if I really disappeared without a trace, there must be a massive police search happening. I sigh. "Okay, just shut up already!" At this rate, I¡¯ll never get proper rest. *Deep exhale*
Now I¡¯m lying in a comfy bed. Looking around, I see the metal tower¡¯s interior, and the sturdy ceiling. I feel safe and cozy, with a box full of food nearby. My plate armor is on display, my weapon clean and ready on the nearest table. The lawn I claimed is fenced with custom logs, a stream of water flowing close by into a small pond where I can bathe. Firewood is neatly stacked, and the area is clean. The grass is cut, stone pathways lead to outdoor seating and a fireplace. I have a garden that provides for me, and I go hunting whenever I want. I keep acid flatheads captive in metal cages, harvesting their acid to make glass bottle bombs. Terrifying and awesome at the same time. This is my tower, my lawn, my domain. I can do whatever I want¡ªtrain, explore, get stronger. If I ever want a woman, at least I have something to offer. With these wonderful, unrealistic thoughts, I finally fall asleep.
*Intense screams and cries from a woman* wake me up with my heart racing. "What the..." I open my eyes, seeing nothing but darkness. Harald is gone, and Mike is crouched over Astrid, who¡¯s screaming so loudly her cries echo through the sinkhole. I gather myself and rush over. "Where the heck is the old man?" *Slam* I hear a loud car door slam. "What¡¯s going on?" Harald yells, sounding groggy. "Oh boy, it must be the acid. I knew it from the beginning." Reacting quickly is one of my strengths. With my inventory open, I carefully retrieve the acid bottle, stored near my clear water supply. Using my dirty shirt, I pop the cork. "Hold her, Mike!" Harald orders, doing something unexpected¡ªhe yanks off one of Astrid¡¯s socks from her stump. She screams so loudly, tears streak her face, and then faints on the spot. It seems the flesh had stuck to the fabric, and he accidentally pulled on the nerves. The sight of the dangling pieces of flesh horrifies me. Searching for the right spot, I prepare to apply the acid. Her almost lifeless body makes Harald panic, and Mike starts freaking out too. He gently slaps her face, calling her name. "Move aside," I tell them, holding the bottle like it¡¯s a live grenade. I try to pour a tiny amount, extremely carefully, onto one piece of flesh. But before I make a drop, she jolts back to life. Her eyes shoot open in pure panic, realizing what¡¯s happening. She sees all three of us leaning over her and starts screaming in agony again. In the chaos, I pour about a bottle cap¡¯s worth onto her messy stump. It starts bubbling and hissing immediately, the smell of rotting flesh filling the air.
Suddenly, she stops screaming and exhales in relief. Everything seems to settle. She sits up, rolling up her dirty sock, staring into the abyss. "I can¡¯t do this again," she says, exhausted from the pain, her face expressionless. "Either pour it on me earlier or just kill me. Sigh." "Harald, don¡¯t you have a stopwatch or something?" I ask, frowning at the situation. "Ugh, yes. I¡¯ve got a digital watch. The time is off, but it might help us count." He answers sadly. "Astrid, my girl, we¡¯ll need you to go through this one more time. It says it¡¯s 3 o¡¯clock now." "How long we¡¯ve slept, I don¡¯t know, but it seems the acid¡¯s painkiller effect lasted about half a day." "I¡¯m up next, guys," I announce, holding the acid bottle. "Harald, what about the watch battery? Can you set an alarm?" I ask. "Aah, I think I changed the battery half a year ago. Should be good for another half a year or more." Phew, at least there¡¯s that, I think, sitting tightly with the open bottle in hand.
"It should happen soon, any moment now. I can feel it." I gaze at my burnt flesh and missing finger, searching for a spot to sacrifice. Now! Come on! I can feel it already! Looking at the rotten, burnt flesh, a burning sensation overtakes me. Is this real pain or just a placebo? Damn it! My right hand begins to shake. This is it! I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s heat or cold¡ªI can¡¯t distinguish pain from anxiety anymore.
It finally kicks in. "Aaaargh!" I scream. All I can do is yell at the top of my lungs. Despite my body being rested from hours of deep sleep, I know it¡¯s too damaged to not hurt all over. I had gotten used to feeling numb, without pain or discomfort, but now I feel alive¡ªin turmoil and despair. My shaking hand drips the liquid onto the piece of flesh. It melts instantly, evaporating, and the stench of rotting meat hits my nose. My pain intensifies, but I know I have to endure. "Mark! Let me take the bottle!" Harald offers, extending a helping hand. Shaking from the pain, I barely manage to hand him the bottle. "Fuck! Just make it stop!" I scream through clenched teeth. This feels like an eternity! There¡¯s no way Astrid¡¯s lasted this long. "Tsk!" I even start coughing while grunting. My body shakes violently, and the pain isn''t going anywhere. Chapter 69 - New Routine ¡°Aaaaargh!¡± My left hand feels like it¡¯s on fire; the stretch marks and muscle tension are intense. ¡°You gotta be kidding me!¡± I continue to grunt. ¡°Boy, did you miss the drop or something?¡± The old man starts to panic. I can barely look up at the rest of the crew through my teary eyes. I can feel my skin being red-hot and the veins protruding on my forehead. I hold my left forearm tightly with my right hand, restricting the blood flow to the dissolved part. It seems that the wounds have opened up and are no longer stiff. Blood starts to flow and spurts out of the area where my little finger and the side of my palm were. ¡°Hold it still!¡± the old man orders me. He spills about a tablespoon of acid over my wounded area, also covering a tiny part of healthy flesh. He puts the bottle then in a safe, leveled spot and uses both of his arms to hold me by my shoulders. ¡°I think it has to be a healthy area! It might do the trick. Hold it together!¡± he encourages me. My body shakes and sweats, and I can barely even nod at him. *Exhale* I finally exhale, calmly and with relief, but I feel like I would like to take a quick nap after that tension. No more shaking, no anything. My head is once again blank and focused on the present, completely desensitized. I exhale all the air from my lungs and let the fresh one fill them. What a damn relief. Avoiding this at all costs must be my top priority, or else I need to start to enjoy the pain as a masochist.
¡°I got seriously worried this wouldn¡¯t work. And the only option would be...¡± The old man starts the conversation. ¡°Running a bullet through my head?¡± I interrupt him. ¡°Would you even be able to do it?¡± I continue to ask. ¡°I did it once. And it still haunts me to this day.¡± He lowers his sight. ¡°But I thought about it since we¡¯re together. If one of us gets mortally injured and is dying in agonizing pain? I always keep one bullet, not just for myself, too.¡± ¡°I apologize, Harald,¡± I answer him with sadness in my voice. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, finish sleeping. If anyone wants to get in the back of the car, it is a bit less windy there." "I need to stay up, clear my thoughts once more... And do the procedure on myself.¡± He points his finger at the hole in his left cheek. ¡°You have your own jug, right?¡± I ask him, looking into his eyes. ¡°I feel relaxed enough, really! This temporary shock made me wake up anyway, so I will assist you.¡± I highlight ¡°really¡± as he raises his eyebrows and tilts his head, questioning my status. ¡°I will never fucking touch this substance of yours,¡± Mike tells us out of nowhere while frowning. Mike, distraught, slips his arms under Astrid and offers her a calm sleep inside the car. He lifts and carries her there carefully while Harald and I wait for his moment.
¡°At least she will fit the seats without having to fold herself,¡± Harald adds, I believe to brighten up the mood. I cough immediately and chuckle at his dark humor. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. ¡°Too soon, way too soon,¡± I say, looking at him, and we laugh a little. ¡°So, what was that with the car escape earlier? I had all sorts of weird thoughts, like you might leave us for good,¡± I conspire. ¡°Ahh, sorry about that. That car is a diesel and wasn¡¯t running for a long time, buried under the sand. I had little hope it would start at all. Just felt I needed to grind it and burn the sediments. It was really immature, for an oldie like me. But it happens. Again, sorry...¡± ¡°Nah, it¡¯s okay.¡± I tuck it under the carpet. He takes out the bottle and offers me a sip with a gesture. ¡°This isn¡¯t the acid, right?¡± I joke again. He laughs and pulls the cork out with his teeth. ¡°Oh man, I can¡¯t wait to replenish our water. I¡¯m dying of thirst,¡± I say before taking a mouthful of cool water. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you ask?¡± I shrug back. ¡°You know what bothers me?¡± he asks, raising his sight. ¡°Hmph?¡± I mumble while guzzling another huge gulp. ¡°That the little girl needs to deal with this again. Just to set up the stopwatch,¡± he says sadly. ¡°I can¡¯t imagine how painful it was for her. I¡¯ve lost a small part of my palm, and the pain was unbearable. It took over me so fast. How she made it with both of her legs fully melted, I can¡¯t wrap my head around it.¡± Harald shakes his head in disbelief.
We sit there for a while, and I think about how fast it all happened back there, calculating the estimate for when his time will come and being ready with the acid dose. ¡°I think this is it,¡± he tells me calmly. ¡°I was thinking about the spot... And I will continue to sacrifice my toes.¡± I look at him, frightened. ¡°Wait! How do we know we get ¡®repaired¡¯ after death? What if this is a permanent toll for the painkiller boost?¡± I continue speculating. His left boot is already off, and he starts to roll down his sock. But near the end, he starts to shake and struggle. ¡°Tsk. Come on. Pour it!¡± He barely squeezes the words out, his face twisted in pain. I mobilize as fast as possible and do a quick pour over the nail and the tip of his fourth toe. It starts to hiss immediately, and a terrible smell of rotting meat hits my nose again. Harald groans and struggles to hold it together. He spits through his clenched teeth, and some saliva sizzles through the hole in his left cheek, too. ¡°Five. Four. Three. Two...¡± I start to count down, but just as I hit two, I see it in his eyes. Complete relief, finally. He exhales deeply and closes his eyes. ¡°You two. You two are goddamn heroes,¡± he tells me, while catching his breath and glances at the Hummer, where Astrid lays on the backseat, hopefully sleeping. I see Mike¡¯s feet poking out of the semi-opened large trunk. He joined her to watch over. ¡°Are we going to sleep, or do you want to stay up?¡± I ask him. ¡°Honestly, this sudden pain and relief afterward weren¡¯t as exhausting as I expected,¡± he tells me what he¡¯d like to do. I appreciate that he wants to spend some extra time with me and chat. He offers me his water again, and we start to talk by the firepit. ¡°Nobody is going to yell at me for having a midnight fatty snack.¡± We both chuckle and start to munch on the dried meat.
*Brushing teeth* Damn, what a shame. I haven¡¯t brushed my teeth for almost a week. I¡¯m baffled by how I could even sleep without it. I never changed my routine; it must be all those unexpected and horrendous events combined with exhaustion that made me completely forget it. I excuse myself and continue to use the simple toothbrush Harald showed me how to carve out of wood and some dried stalks. I finally tuck myself back in my nest and gaze upon the stars, thinking. I can feel that we are making a great bond together. Obviously, I can¡¯t get closer to Astrid, even as a friend, or Mike will kill me with his stare. Getting close to him is also not so comfortable for me. Harald is the only buddy I have. I think of the friendly chat we had and hope that it will grow. I fall asleep shortly after.
*Repetitive heavy breathing and counting* Weird exertion sounds wake me up. ¡°Ninety-seven, ninety-eight, ninety-nine...¡± Rolling my head over, I see Harald doing push-ups. He¡¯s wearing his heavy bulletproof vest, not surprising. ¡°It¡¯s easy while nothing hurts, right?¡± These are the first words I say to him before a good morning. ¡°Hundred. Phew.¡± He jumps up on his feet and claps. I see his arms are pumped and red. ¡°Wow, how come I never thought of that?¡± I wonder aloud. ¡°I think we should take advantage of this and train hard. Seven hundred push-ups daily till I start to lift,¡± he says, hyped, telling me his plan right away. ¡°Morning.¡± Mike joins us while carrying Astrid and putting her gently down near my wooden throne. They all chat together with Harald. I decide to do something on my own after the old man sparked the motivation. I still can¡¯t believe I never thought of it. Leaning on the ground I try to do a push-up. I don¡¯t remember doing a successful round of push-ups back in the day, the best I could do was about two before starting to shake and fall on my face. "Ugh. So let¡¯s see." I rub my hands together and hop on the ground. My body starts to shake as I plank and adjust myself. My muscles aren¡¯t strong enough to support my body weight. Guess I can¡¯t do this without cheating. Focus! Chapter 70 - Strongman ¡°Yeah! I can feel it,¡± I exclaim as a grin stretches across my face, triumphant. Glancing left and right, I watch how my shoulders have started to swell, muscles bulging with each tiny movement. After managing just one shaky push-up using my actual muscle strength, I can sense the small amount of power I have being redistributed across my body, fueling precisely the muscles I need at the moment. There¡¯s zero pain, zero effort, and I¡¯m able to crank out push-ups like a machine now. ¡°Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen...¡± I count, the numbers rolling off my tongue as I keep going. In one swift motion, I hop back onto my feet. I reach into my inventory and pull out my bulletproof vest, feeling the weight in my hands before sliding it over my shoulders. Once it¡¯s on, I decide right then and there that it¡¯s staying on for good. It only adds five or six kilos, but it¡¯s enough to give me that compressed feeling¡ªenough to make me feel safer and most importantly more badass. Breathing heavily, I manage to knock out almost a hundred push-ups in under two minutes. I¡¯m stunned, looking down at my arms and realizing how quickly they¡¯ve grown. The muscle mass seems to have redistributed itself from less-used areas, like my calves and lower back, giving my arms required power. ¡°That¡¯s enough,¡± I mutter to myself, standing up straight again, I glance around inconspicuously, hoping someone from the party notices my remarkable achievement, my new personal record. But they¡¯re all too absorbed in their conversation, oblivious to my efforts. No matter. I stand there for a moment, analyzing my body, thinking about how much and how far I can really go. But I realize that while Focus might make me stronger, it¡¯s not actually building my real muscles. Never an athlete, never a strongman. Despite my stature being rather bulky and large, I was never stronger than the average guy at my age and I definitely had worse fatigue than anybody. Determined, I drop back down to the ground for another round, this time without the vest. But something feels different now. My shaky wobbly arms automatically call on my Focus, flooding my muscles with borrowed strength. I stop instantly, letting myself fall face-first into the grass. It seems that I¡¯ve used all my stamina on my original muscles throughout making those hundred, thus the Focus kicked in right away now. Again! I try to push up, but once more, I falter. The same thing happens again and again, my face hitting the wet grass repeatedly, splattering mud across my clothes. ¡°Boy, Mark. What on earth are you doing?¡± I hear the old man¡¯s voice, his gaze fixed on me with a curious look. ¡°Ugh. Don¡¯t mind me,¡± I reply, throwing myself onto the ground again. I don¡¯t want to give up just yet. ¡°Your technique is terrible,¡± he says, walking over to me. He presses down on my hips, adjusting my posture, and then he shows me a few push-ups, executing them perfectly right beside me. But the second my Focus kicks in again, and I feel the artificial muscle mass start to shift, I let myself drop to the ground again. ¡°I see what you¡¯re trying to do now,¡± he says with a knowing smile. ¡°Good, good. It¡¯ll work, but don¡¯t forget¡ªyou need protein to build up that muscle. And a good sleep!¡± He stands up and pulls out a piece of cooked fox meat, spearing it on his dagger before taking a bite. ¡°Have some! It¡¯s still warm,¡± he says, offering a piece. I can see his jaw moving through the hole in his cheek, chewing, and although it¡¯s unsettling, I¡¯m starting to get used to his appearance.
I go through a few more rounds of push-ups, eventually managing to do about fifty without releasing my Focus despite my body being exhausted. It¡¯s progress, though modest.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. In gym class, I¡¯d only ever been able to do three at most. ¡°Yes!¡± I whisper, feeling a flutter of excitement in my stomach. This training is going to require a lot of protein to build muscle, and carbs for energy. As much as I think about what to stuff myself with I completely forgot what substance am I under now. The painkiller acid. While I ponder all this, I manage to squeeze out another forty push-ups without using Focus. It¡¯s a decent start, but the toll it takes on me is immediate. Sixty base strength. For my age and bodystructure, it seems that without Focus I¡¯m on an average level of an adult who visits the gym occasionally. I thought that Harald was definitely on a lower number, but he probably came here with a decent base stats and level 1. Theoretically if a strongman from earth comes here he will be hundred strength but level 1 as a starter? I wonder how complicated and connected the system is and how it works, but my train of thought stops as the dark spots start to blur my vision, and I realize that if I don¡¯t get water soon, I¡¯m going to faint. I stick my tongue out, rubbing it with my finger. It¡¯s dry and rough, covered with a white film. "Yuck." I bet my breath smells terrible, too. The dehydration is setting in, but the acid has dulled my sense of thirst and hunger to the point that I hadn¡¯t noticed. This painkiller isn¡¯t just blocking physical pain¡ªit¡¯s making me numb to everything, even internal signals. I can sense the thirst and hunger, but when they should hurt, the acid shuts down those sensations. I¡¯ll need to keep a strict routine to counteract these effects. I think about Harald and how strong he must be naturally. He managed a hundred push-ups without any Focus. How. Freaking. Lame. I was. And am. *Sigh* ¡°Harald, can I get a sip of water?¡± I ask, my voice scratchy. He hands me the bottle immediately and I pour a small amount into my mouth, careful not to touch the rim, but it¡¯s not enough, and I cough as I hand it back to him. This isn¡¯t funny anymore¡ªmy dehydration levels are worse than I realized. He finishes the last drop himself, then puts the bottle away in his inventory. ¡°We should get moving. The stream¡¯s still a ways off. Everyone ready?¡± he asks, looking around. Mike and Astrid both nod.
I file my questions away for later and start walking toward the forest, remembering the green berries and snails. Those might speed up my reconvalescence process. ¡°Mark? The car¡¯s right over there,¡± Harald says, pointing. The couple chuckles. ¡°Oh. How did I.. completely forget about it.¡± I act exhausted. Quickly jogging towards the car I throw myself in. Harald starts the engine and shifts gears. The familiar hum comforts me as we drive. I notice the seatbelt is still there, unlike the others which Mike cut off. For a moment, I consider using it to compress my forearms, maybe as a brace. Then, a thought about knights¡¯ armor flits through my mind, and I feel a spark of excitement again.
After a few minutes, we reached the edge of the forest where we battled the snails before. I remember it being narrow and dense with moss and fallen logs. Navigating it would be tough without damaging the car. Yet I sit there quietly, the black spots in my vision still lingering. I¡¯ve exhausted my water reserves, and the acid has blocked my thirst to the point where I could faint any minute. ¡°Markus, are you alright?¡± Astrid asks, concerned in her voice as she sees my cracked lips. ¡°I¡¯ll manage,¡± I reply, exhaling deeply. Harald quickly realizes the car can¡¯t go any further and stops at the forest¡¯s edge. ¡°We¡¯re walking from here unless someone wants to guard the car. No one¡¯s likely to steal it here, right?¡± he says, looking for input, with a smile. ¡°I don¡¯t think I can make it,¡± I respond, struggling to keep my voice steady. The moist forest air is a lifesaver right now. I¡¯ve burned through all my water, and any attempt to walk further might push me to collapse. So I rather sit there leaning against the mossy tree. ¡°I¡¯ll go alone. Give me your jugs and bottles,¡± Mike says, volunteering himself. We nod, but Astrid and Harald start to protest. Mike stops them with a hand. ¡°I¡¯ve got this. Speed and agility are my strengths,¡± he says confidently. I raise my head, closing my eyes, inhaling the moist air.
Astrid relaxes in the car as she can''t move on her own, while Harald and I keep watch, wary of any approaching snails. ¡°How much gas do we have left?¡± I ask him again. ¡°Enough for one trip into the desert¡ªmaybe even an acid run, if you catch my drift.¡± He grins. ¡°Ah, yeah,¡± I reply, chuckling until it turns into a cough.
Trying to meditate, dreaming of fresh water I decide to lick a nearby wet leaf. Harald takes the opportunity to pound out another hundred push-ups, his strength relentless. How the hell is he so able? I look up to him. After a hundred reps, he pauses to catch his breath. The cool forest air adds a refreshing touch, and I decide to lick another bunch of few nearby leaves, hoping they aren¡¯t poisonous. ¡°How much should I be doing each day if I want to get strong without hurting myself?¡± I ask, firing off questions after my mouth moisturizes. ¡°Five hundred a day, then we¡¯ll add weights and cardio,¡± he replies, thinking. ¡°We¡¯ll eat anything we catch¡ªfoxes, nutrias, even those white monkeys if we have to. Some salt would be a blessing, though.¡± ¡°Speaking of cardio, how are we going to stay clean? Because I had an idea.¡± He looks at me, intrigued. ¡°Let¡¯s hear it Mark!¡± ¡°We could dig a pond or build a dam near the stream,¡± I say, excited by the thought. His eyes wander as he considers it. ¡°Good. We will, maybe even start today. If you¡¯d be able to dig.¡± He smirks at me. I grin, ignoring my dry mouth. ¡°It¡¯s risky, maybe even impossible. But once I¡¯m hydrated again¡­¡± ¡°What are you talking about, Mark?¡± ¡°Do you want to leave it here or.. are you thinking what I am thinking?¡± I answer. Chapter 71 - Bench Press He looks at me, confused. ¡°Ehm, what do you mean?¡± He coughs afterward. ¡°Wait. Oh my God." "Like, right now?¡± He asks opening his eyes wide. I nod at him with a crazy smile. ¡°That¡¯s why you asked me if I could lift a car. Am I right?¡± I look at him, raising my eyebrows. ¡°No. I mean... I... maybe, yes. But there must be other ways to do it.¡± He is uncertain and stutters. ¡°There was never a situation to test it. I mean, the size we can store up. But you know what? I''ll give it a try,¡± I answer confidently. ¡°Boy, Markus, this is too risky. What if you lose it?¡± he asks, concerned. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. Trust me,¡± I answer again, very confidently. Maybe there is a bit of showing off from my side, maybe to impress two of the party members.
Time to execute some tests while I wait for the precious water. Taking out my sledgehammer from my inventory, I let it rest on the ground, hammerhead down. Kneeling down, I try to position the floating inventory bronze plate at the level of the hammer. I tilt and wiggle it in all possible ways to initiate the downsizing magic trick. No luck. Leaning even lower, I reopen my inventory to get it to appear under the hammer. The bronze plate easily blends with the environment. Half of it is in the ground, yet I¡¯m unable to let it go in. But the moment I lift and hold the hammer with my arm, it finally sucks right in. Good. The next option is to throw it. Raising it up, I let it fall into the frame. No luck; it just falls through, and the hammerhead lands on the ground with a loud thud, destroying one nice and colorful mossy patch. I crouch, open the inventory again at floor level, and stand up, trying to put it in from the top. Strangely, it also refuses to take it despite me holding it myself. It seems that I must be physically able to hold it by myself, at about chest level, and place it in. The last option is to sit on the ground, lift it at chest level, and try to fit it in. This time, it finally works. So indeed, the bronze plate must be at my chest level. ¡°So, what did you find?¡± the curious man asks. ¡°Welp, digging a hole under the car and placing it wouldn¡¯t work. Even making it fall inside¡ªyou need to physically hold it yourself and at about chest level.¡± He is disappointed; I can tell by the look in his eyes. ¡°But I have another idea. Hold my hammer there.¡± I ask him to help me take the final test. He holds the hammer up, and I open my inventory, placing it correctly. My hands are just below, waiting for him to drop it. ¡°Let it go on three.¡± As I say, Harald nods. ¡°One, two, three.¡± *Thud* The hammer hits the ground, almost hitting my foot. "Again."A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. We repeat but this time I try to touch the hammer slightly while it falls and guide it inside the frame, but it still does not work. ¡°What¡¯s this test about?¡± he asks curiously. ¡°To test if it is enough just to guide it. Maybe you could drive it from some artificial ramp, and I would simply guide it in. But no luck.¡± ¡°And it seems that we¡¯ve killed two birds with one stone, as it is impossible to store stuff in others'' inventory without having full control of the item.¡± ¡°So, my question is, isn¡¯t that a problem? That I would have the car in mine?¡± I ask the old man, who seems to love this hummer. ¡°It¡¯s okay. If you don¡¯t run away with it.¡± He cracks a smile and nods.
¡°Are we doing this now?¡± The old man asks. I smirk at him and roll my eyes toward the hummer. ¡°Astriiiid?¡± I call her name loudly. She sticks one arm out and looks at me through the back window. ¡°We are going to perform one test with the car,¡± I let her know and stand up again, moving toward the yellow hummer. ¡°If I may?¡± I decide to get closer to pick her up gently and relocate. ¡°What test?¡± she asks, looking at me adorably as I carry her. ¡°You¡¯ll see.¡± The moment I place her on the mossy, comfortable patch near the tree trunk, I hear fast and delighted footsteps. ¡°Oi. Special delivery service.¡± A tall figure emerges from the dark, moist forest, covering half of his face with a headscarf. ¡°What test?¡± Mike asks, handing us bottles and jugs filled with crystal-clear water. I freeze for a moment, as I was touching his precious girl, but not Harald. ¡°Mark here is going to try to store the car,¡± the old man announces proudly. Mike''s lips open for a brief moment, but he plays it off instantly, covering up his amazement. ¡°Okay.¡± He nods with a fake smile. Harald takes his jugs from him and stores them in his magic inventory. I carefully take my bottle from him, nodding to him with one eye. He remains silent, and I awkwardly chug almost the whole bottle while staring into his one eye. Still dehydrated yet somewhat refreshed from the chug, I look around carefully for where I could fit under the car. I crouch here and there, kneeling to check what exactly is under the car. Thank God it has such good clearance. I can fit there with no problem and avoid getting crushed accidentally if I somehow fail to hold it up. The clearance is massive, and even dropping back on the absorbers should theoretically leave me unscratched. If this works, this bench press will be legendary.
As I start to roll myself under the car, Harald quickly gets inside and recovers what¡¯s possible, including the cut-out seat belts, jack, and rope. He quickly puts all the stuff in one pile. Finally, lying wide underneath it, I mutter to myself, ¡°Where to place my arms to avoid collapsing the whole car?¡± I switch my arms a few times, touching the parts I think will support and provide a good grip, thinking out loud so Harald can hint at me. ¡°Here, Mark, it shouldn¡¯t be hot; this is where the jack goes. But I¡¯m worried for your skin and hands; here, grab it with these rags.¡± He crouches down and shows me some good spots and hands me two of them he retrieved from the trunk. I lock myself in place with my arms on the spots, holding the rags, and push. Calling for Focus and trying to bench press from the front of the car, I first feel the movement under my skin. ¡°Aaargh!¡± I let the groan escape as I push as hard as I can. My muscle mass shifts from my bottom, and I can already feel that mostly my chest and shoulders are at work. But to lift the whole car, I need to use almost my entire body¡ªand there isn¡¯t enough mass to shift and supply all four limbs simultaneously. I¡¯m a bit of a skeptic about this now, but a wild idea sparks. I can use only my arms to lift it up. Relocating myself with a tedious back crawl, I center the car at my chest area. A quick peek at Harald shows his worried expression. ¡°Just testing.¡± I reassure him so he can stay calm. The first push, and I can hear the squealing of the vehicle frame. It might work after all! I start to grin. The wheels are staying on the ground, hanging on the suspenders only. I say through my teeth, ¡°Inventory,¡± and it opens in front of me, intersecting with the car. I skew it to the side, imagining it will fit in. *Metal squealing and a loud thud* Unsuccessful. Releasing the tension, the car falls back to its original position, and I close the floating window. ¡°Again, just testing.¡± I reassure the crouching old man again. I just can¡¯t get it over the point where it finally floats on all four tires. It seems I¡¯ve managed to lift only one side, so I would need more power. ¡°Please, watch my legs and shoulders. If anything looks suspicious that could make me burst, scream. I have zero control while on acid, as you well know.¡± I decide to tell him before my last attempt. ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯m here.¡± He kneels now on all fours, watching me.
¡°Aaaargh!¡± Movement beside Harald is noticed out of the corner of my eye. The couple crouches to check on me as I push as well. I groan while pushing again. My legs and bottom are incredibly thin, and a quick glance down reveals that my legs are almost skeletal; it seems my pants are empty. ¡°What a weird thing that I¡¯m still alive. Such physical mass shifting should be impossible.¡± A thought flashes through my head as I inhale deeply before another try. ¡°Aaaaargh!¡± My elbows are getting buried in the mossy soil, and I imagine I must look badly disfigured¡ªalmost like I¡¯m only the upper torso from the chest up, with two bloated arms. ¡°Aaaaargh!¡± The veins on my forehead protrude, and another large crooked one pops out on the side of my head, yet I don¡¯t feel any pain. I just want to lift that damn metal box now! ¡°Mark, goddamnit! Stop this!¡± Harald raises his voice. ¡°Stop it!¡± Astrid joins, but not Mike. ¡°Aaaaargh!¡± The car finally starts to balance on my arms. ¡°For fuck¡¯s sake, stop! Boy, are you stupid!¡± ¡°Aaaaargh!¡± My elbows straighten, and I prepare for the last step. ¡°Inventory,¡± I almost choke while whispering, shaking all over. I hear them yelling, but it¡¯s all muffled now. *Fwoosh* Chapter 72 - Apoplexy Ho, Lee, crap! It¡¯s working! It¡¯s working! It¡¯s working! I crank up a smile as a bizarre animation of shrinkage flashes before my eyes. The car is being compressed to a toy-sized, tiny car model, floating in the air. Without any metal-seeking sound as expected, it is frozen in time, and with zero weight, it disappears. A tiny, kind of funny miniature of a yellow Hummer icon sits near the squared slot beside my sledgehammer, inside my inventory plate. I exhale deeply, emptying my lungs, and lay there with my arms and legs extended, watching the trees above. My power is slowly shrinking, and the muscle mass starts to slowly flow back to my body, returning to its original shape. ¡°Whooa.¡± Double cheers from Astrid and Harald. Astrid even claps a few times after looking around. I don¡¯t see Mike nearby; it was probably him leaving when I noticed the smudge of movement. ¡°Boy wonder. You did it!¡± The old man cranks up his usual smile, and the hole in his cheek elongates. ¡°But you can¡¯t risk it and waste life like that! What if you¡¯d burst underneath that car? I would be the one having to bury you afterward, but before that, I¡¯d have to drive all the way back for you to the desert, and God knows if you won¡¯t end up melted there multiple times, since the flatheads got awakened.¡± He raises his voice and almost starts to shake as he gets angry all by himself. ¡°And you didn¡¯t even leave any of your gear out, besides the vest. Why not duplicate your hammer or pistol? You never know.¡± He speculates even further. After exhaling, he asks me if I¡¯m okay. It is kinda comical for me and maybe a bit awkward for him, but I don¡¯t mind all this. This is the first time a grown-up adult man is scolding me for being hot-headed and clearly making a mistake. He might think my smile is because I¡¯m laughing at him for this outburst, but it¡¯s because I enjoy this scolding. This strong, confident, and wise old man is the closest person I ever had to a father figure. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, you¡¯re right in everything.¡± ¡°I feel good, really, nothing special. Everything¡¯s good so far,¡± I answer calmly. Phew. ¡°Good, then.¡± The old man nods and leans over the tree next to Astrid. I keep laying there, and so they start to talk about the miracle they just observed. Astrid speculates, what would happen if she was still inside the car? Would she be shrunk just like the car? Die or be frozen in time? ¡°If we ever capture some harmless animal, I think we should try to store it in. Just for testing purposes, of course,¡± he adds. I keep laying on the ground enjoying breathing, but before I join the conversation, I can hear fast footsteps approaching. Slight tilt of my sight, and I know it¡¯s Mike. He runs and jumps, while holding the headscarf with one arm and a fat wooden pole in the other. ¡°Hey! Where¡¯s the car?¡± He trips over a bump on the ground and almost falls. He drops the pole afterward with a thud.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. ¡°Careful, Mikey!¡± Astrid flinches as the pole nearly hits her when it drops. ¡°In my inventory.¡± I answer calmly. ¡°You should have seen this. He lifted it up at one point, and it hid inside like it was a normal item. The shrinking animation was insane.¡± Says Astrid, a little bit excited, while sitting next to Harald. I look at Mike and observe how he acts. I have mixed feelings of him being surprised and jealous at the same time. I don¡¯t know what he was planning to do with the log, either help me or whatever, but it¡¯s too late now. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s impressive.¡± He answers to Astrid, looking at her, avoiding me. ¡°Good, so we can continue. Green berries?¡± He asks. What the heck, he had this in his mind all the time? I frown while pushing myself up to take a seat, supporting myself with my arms behind my back. ¡°Yeah, we are basically in the snail area,¡± I answer him.
The group replenishes its fluids, and I look around, planning in my head what¡¯s next. We need to cross the... Something odd catches my sight. "Hmm. What¡¯s this?" I stand up in curiosity. The spot where Mike almost tripped and fell is kind of familiar. I finally get up on my feet, leaning over my knee to push myself up. ¡°Mark, you alright?¡± The old man shows his concern once again. ¡°Yes, yes,¡± I answer him, gazing at the lump sticking from the ground. Looks like the tip of the shell of the snail we were killing before, but a little bit bigger. I come near it and sit on the ground, cleaning the excess grass and dirt from the very tip with my arms, revealing a beautiful colorful shell. I polish it and look inside to maybe see through or something. The moment I get close, I hear a thud. Placing my ear close to it, I look at the group. They talk together and look at me curiously. ¡°Nothing, it must¡¯ve been the wind.¡± I answer them, while I see how they are drinking. And this makes me very thirsty again, almost the same as before the bench press with the Hummer. Taking out the bottle from my inventory, I let the single droplet left slip into my mouth. ¡°Boy, here, take mine.¡± Harald offers me his jug right after he notices the droplet. ¡°Thank you.¡± I grab it by the handle, unscrew the red top, and drink almost half of the jug in a single breath, supporting it with both arms. ¡°You¡¯re like the Hummer itself, boy,¡± the old man chuckles. ¡°High fuel consumption,¡± he adds, and the couple chuckles too. ¡°Hah, Henry, Henry.. Yees, veeery fun¡­¡± Before I even finish my sentence, my grip goes loose, and the jug hits the ground, spilling water onto the moss, glugging. Dark clouds start to form in front of my eyes. I can feel one corner of my mouth slipping down. ¡°Boy! What¡¯s going on?!¡± ¡°Markus?!¡± A high-pitched voice of a girl is the last thing I hear. *Loud thud*
Harald''s POV ¡°Mark!¡± I yell at him. Quickly leaning forward, I kneel down and sit over him, straddling him with my legs spread wide to give him first aid. *Slap, slap, slap* I keep slapping him with my coarse hand across the cheeks a few times. His eyes are half-open, and as I slap him, his head moves from left to right, his longer hair catching all the dirt and dry leaves in the process. ¡°Goddammit, boy! Wake up!¡± ¡°Markus!¡± The girl from behind my back calls for him once again. I bet that skinny one doesn¡¯t even flinch. I lean a bit closer, looking at his nostrils. No bleeding, nothing. Holding my finger close to his nose, I try to feel if he¡¯s breathing or not. ¡°Mark! Wake up!¡± I start to think of the worst as I lean my ear close to him, trying to hear his heart. ¡°Is he alive?¡± The girl¡¯s voice interrupts me. ¡°Sssh, Astrid,¡± I gesture to her to the back. Nothing, not a single heartbeat, and his chest isn¡¯t moving. ¡°One, two, three, four, five, six...¡± I keep counting to the beat of a Staying Alive while pressing his chest. Leaning close to his nose again, I check for his breath. I inhale deeply and open his mouth wide with my arms and try to blow it in, but most of it goes out through the hole in my cheek. Repeating the process about five or six times without any change, and I start to hear Astrid sobbing. "Fuck this, dammit!" *Thud* I hit the ground with my fist. If he¡¯s dead and the Hummer is in his pocket, we might not have a chance to reach him back in the desert that far. It¡¯s already too late for a trip like that! Dammit, Mark! Why can¡¯t they just listen to me once! Am I that bad of an authority?! I clench my teeth, and a tear appears in my eye. My poor Isabel.
I release the tension in my back and shoulders. Turning my head back, I announce to the skinny, pale girl with teary eyes and her tall, douchey boyfriend, who¡¯s leaning over the tree like just nothing happened. ¡°He¡¯s dead.¡± ¡°And we don¡¯t have a car, and at this point, I¡¯m not even sure if he has fallen asleep in the desert or not. He might appear there and get melted multiple times, or he might be in the middle of a charred forest.¡± After some pause, I add.
*Thud-Thud* I turn myself back immediately, my eyes wide open. Chapter 73 - When Dead, Die ¡°Sheesh!¡± I start to shake all over and cover myself as I notice I¡¯m completely naked. Quickly moving my head around, I take in the surroundings that I recognize from before. A never-ending open space stretches out like a desert, blanketed in beige dust under a bright, muffled light that seems to lack any particular source. Or at least I think so¡ªthere''s a definite warmth radiating from behind me, suggesting there might be an artificial sun or some other hidden light source. I twist my head and torso as much as I can to see behind me, but my bottom is practically glued to the surface. The harder I try to unstick, the more I see my skin and flesh pulling in resistance.
A tingling unease lingers around my body as memories of past suffering emerge from the dark corners of my mind, even though I feel warm, safe, and entirely comfortable. I blame the acid. So far, it¡¯s given me this constant feeling of comfort, and despite only being on it for two days, I¡¯ve adapted to it far too easily. Already, my mind is toying with thoughts of where to apply the acid next on my body to get the effect back. Maybe I don¡¯t even need to apply it directly¡ªflatheads might be roaming the desert freely, and there¡¯s a chance I could get splashed. No, no, no, that won¡¯t do. I want to avoid pain as much as possible; I¡¯d rather melt a tiny piece of my pinky fingernail than¡­ Wait! I don¡¯t have any pinky fingers left after last time! Markus, Markus¡­ trapped somewhere outside of time, and here you are, still stressing, still calculating. Calm down! This last death didn¡¯t even hurt. How did it even happen? I ask myself, trying to remember what I last saw. Inhaling the neutral air, I notice the beige dust particles floating around me. They avoid my eyes as if I¡¯m surrounded by an invisible bubble, so I don¡¯t even need to squint or cover my nose while breathing in. So again, how did this happen?
I remember just standing there after chugging from an old man¡¯s jug. I frown as I recall it, feeling nervous, aware that I might be watched by someone or something while standing here naked. Was there something else in that water? Maybe some leftover chemicals from an air conditioner or brake fluid? I can¡¯t remember if the old man drank from it, but I know I did some physical activity afterward. For a moment, I feel suspicious of Mike, wondering why he would do something like that to me. He can¡¯t really be trying to get rid of me, can he? The thought suddenly disgusts me, and I scrub my arms and shake my head as a wave of awkwardness and guilt washes over me. I feel bad for even thinking such a thing. I know well enough that I¡¯m the only one who hurts myself the most. I exhale deeply, sighing. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Let¡¯s start over. What was I doing before? I remember drinking a lot of water and then finding a nice spot on some mossy turf that felt wet but comfortable. But did I do anything else? I keep tilting my head, trying to think. Nothing works here like it should; I can¡¯t stand, so I can¡¯t exercise, and I can¡¯t use items, right? ¡°Inventory.¡± *Nothing happens* ¡°Stats.¡± *Nothing happens* ¡°Alright, so it¡¯s just me and my brain.¡± I keep thinking about how to return and which part of my body I should sacrifice with acid next. Staring at my pinky toe on my right foot, I know I¡¯d rather sacrifice it for my second death, so the acid will go to the toe next to it. Now, the real challenge will be outrunning the flatheads if they spot me. Running in the sand was awful last time, so I¡¯ll definitely jump, but it¡¯s not nearly as fast as I¡¯d like. They might still outrun me or manage to squirt acid from behind. I smirk a little, remembering the old man. He¡¯s probably already driving his precious hummer out here to pick me up.
Wait¡ªdamn! My grin fades as my jumbled memory finally unravels. I¡¯d just lifted Harald¡¯s prized hummer and stored it with myself. That¡¯s how I died! You idiot! Everyone told you to stop, but no, you had to show off. Now you¡¯re here, you can shake hands with Mike. I inhale and exhale deeply again. As much as I don¡¯t want them to risk their lives, and especially don¡¯t want Harald to save me, I keep thinking about everything I can do now, anything but going back. I raise my hands, close my eyes, and press my head with my fingers on both sides. I picture the area in the desert I keep wandering through. What will my first move look like? I¡¯d spin in place to get my bearings, spot the forest on the horizon, and then make a straight run for it. But before any of that, I¡¯ll pour a drop of acid on my next toe. Yes, that¡¯ll do. I look at my pinky toe on my right foot and prepare to say, ¡°Confirm.¡±
But just a second before confirming, I remember the cat. That little jerk might know something useful. Should I save him for the desert to guide me, to warn me about the flatheads? ¡°Yes!¡± I tell myself, changing my plan yet again and expanding my endless task list. I glance back at my pinky toe, and I just can¡¯t say it. ¡°You need to understand as much as possible,¡± I tell myself. ¡°It¡¯d be a waste not to try now.¡± I urge myself to focus, and then I let out a spontaneous *Snap.* *Nothing happens.* ¡°Great. Now I¡¯ve officially tried everything.¡± Gazing at my highlighted, semi-transparent toe, I remember those cryptic words. ¡°When dead. Die.¡± *Sigh* Alright, how in the hell am I supposed to kill myself now? I start looking all around, examining my body. ¡°Ouch.¡± I pinch my skin and quickly learn that pain is indeed present. Sheesh. I don¡¯t want to do this, but I¡¯m so incredibly curious. What might happen? I start to speculate. The worst-case scenario is that I die permanently, erased from the universe for good. Just the thought of that makes me incredibly sad. Then again, the best and worst at the same time would be waking up back in my room, in my bed, at home. I¡¯d love for it all to be over, but the world would feel empty, somehow boring. The neutral yet slightly bad outcome would be appearing back at the last fire bowl, like after making a sacrifice, but missing a finger, or perhaps ending up back there missing another part entirely and having to spend even more. But a better outcome could be returning without losing anything, maybe even gaining a reward. I linger on that last possibility, reasoning that the spirit cat knows a lot and is likely in contact with some godly beings. After easily persuading and reasoning with myself, even though I already know exactly what I want to do, I start thinking of the fastest way to end my life.
Biting my own tongue? Tearing my own flesh? I can¡¯t imagine the pain of the latter. Breaking my neck? Biting open my own vein? "Brrrrr" I start shaking and shivering as I picture myself doing any of these things. Suffocating? Choking on my own saliva or tongue? Bleeding out somehow? Wow, it really is hard to die by your own hand, especially with nothing at your disposal. Touching my chin while thinking I remember my precious. Maybe I could use my new power, if it even works here. ¡°Focus!¡± I call out while staring at my bicep. A bubbling sensation starts under my skin, and a strange joy wells up inside me. Maybe this is my key after all. Now, I need to think of the most humane way to use Focus to end it. Blow my chest apart? Burst my arms? My brain? There has to be a way! ¡°Focus!¡± I repeat, feeling my neck, shoulders, and trapezius muscles swell. *Weird gurgling sounds* I can¡¯t inhale as my own body sabotages itself. My eyes are squeezed shut until it hurts. I can¡¯t let this attempt fail¡ªI don¡¯t want to try this again. *Thud, thud, thud* Screaming internally, I grunt and start to beat my chest with my fists. Maybe I can even swell my head until I finally faint. ¡°Focus,¡± I whisper, releasing the last bit of air in my lungs. Colors flash behind my closed eyelids. *Lung whistling*
*Thud.* My head smacks into the hard floor hidden beneath the dust. It feels like marble, at least, that¡¯s what I imagine after the thud. My Focus deactivates immediately, and I lie there, gasping for air.
¡°There must be another way!¡± ¡°Focus!¡± I stretch my arms as if I¡¯m lifting the car again. All the mass shifts as I decide to go after the other body part. Chapter 74 - Skybornes Palace Again. My eyes closed so tightly I imagine I will have permanent wrinkles afterwards. I pumped a lot of it into my chest and arms when pushing that Hummer up. It was definitely a heart attack or complete heart failure before. Without shifting to my arms now, I believe I can squeeze my heart so badly, that it will simply stop working! Focus. I start to think about it and imagine all the muscle mass shifting towards my chest. I want it to literally choke my heart. Still laying on the marble ground in the white dust, I start to feel like an elephant is sitting on my chest¡ªand that is a good sign. After all, I might be able to suicide without pain and whenever I want, thus avoiding any unwanted situation. A giant trying to squeeze me like a banana? Watching my body melt into goo and then seeing a flathead slurping it off the ground? Getting impaled by a bug''s horn and slowly bleeding out? Or even worse, getting stuck somewhere or ending up in some sort of prison? I can easily pop my heart in any situation and appear at the save point.
All these thoughts go through my mind, as a distant ringing in my ears transforms into a monotone, high-pitched whining. I can hear my heart beating and my blood flowing through my veins. The frequency lowers and lowers. *Tschk* I grunt and struggle to push. A few more seconds of focusing on my goal, the beating stops.
Eyes closed, body relaxed in a lying position. *Inhale manually* I can still breathe, and I can still feel the hard surface underneath me. It¡¯s not particularly cold; the air is fresh and cozy, the temperature is pleasant, nothing that should catch my attention. ¡°Wait!¡± Am I feeling my clothes on? As I slowly wiggle around, I can feel that my body is back in a healthy condition. My arms don¡¯t hurt anymore, and I turn my palm down to the hard surface. Rubbing it gently, I quickly understand this is a stone floor or pavement¡ªwhatever it is, it''s not marble, since the surface feels coarser than glossy. Refusing to open my eyes yet, I analyze the smell of the air around me. It has definitely changed, becoming more moist and damp. It is still fresh, but now I can smell old buildings. This is definitely not any of the fire bowls I¡¯ve visited before. *Blink* So I finally open my eyes and see an open, cloudy sky. Still not moving my head, I shift my eyes around, seeing only the rectangular sky surrounded by tall walls made of what seems like weathered sandstone. The stone is old but well maintained. Wiggling my head from side to side, I notice where I am. I was either transported to or reborn in this place. I lay in some sort of natural formation, a rocky rectangular hole like a quarry, but surrounded by castle walls. The castle seems built around and on top of it. I slowly blink to comprehend what I am seeing. The walls are partially covered with ornaments around the edges and rims.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. Many windows with arched tops are scattered across the tall walls. It feels surreal, yet cozy. The architecture reminds me of an Arabic style mixed with something medieval, mainly due to the color and material of the stone. It feels warm and welcoming, despite the lack of music, voices, or even wind. The cloudy sky hides the true time of day. It might be dusk or nearly night, as the moon and stars occasionally peek through the fast-moving clouds. This scene might be haunting to some, but not to me. The quiet, the solitude, and the empty vastness are relaxing.
After initially recovering, I sit there and turn around a few times, examining the quarry I¡¯m in. Finally standing on my feet, I start to examine my body¡ªa wide smile spreads across my face as I see that my body is untouched once again. My missing pinky finger and almost half of my palm are magically back. My dirty, sweaty clothes are still on me, but my body is super clean, like I was reborn. Suddenly, the dirty rags make me uncomfortable, as I feel bad for polluting my newly clean body. Quickly removing my sneakers, which seem to be nearing their end, I check my toes. ¡°Ah, fuck.¡± My pinky toe on my right foot is missing after all, but I don¡¯t remember confirming it. So where the hell am I? Now I start being good old Mark¡ªspeculating and letting my mind spiral into never-ending chaos.
The huge pitch-black castle or mansion or whatever it was when I was gliding through the air on Rhinoceros is the first thing that comes to mind. It¡¯s the only similar structure I¡¯ve seen so far. The sandstone and everything here is orangish-yellow¡ªthis must be somewhere in the desert, I quickly assume. *Inhaling deeply*, I use my arms to support myself from behind as I sit there. So what happened? Either I was punished for dying inside the realm of the dead and was randomly spawned in some remote place, or I was reborn in a different world, as it seems I died in the second one. I keep shaking my head in disbelief. No, no, no, this can¡¯t be. What if I simply died normally and respawned in the desert? The fire bowl could have been moved or covered in sand, and maybe... ¡°Are you stupid?¡± I ask myself, sitting in the rectangular hole about the size of a regular house, gazing up at the sky and letting my eyes wander across the tall sandstone walls, faintly illuminated by the moon and stars. If this really is another world, I can prove it easily! *Inhale* I grunt as I jump to my feet. Once again, I glance at my arms¡ªunscarred and in perfect condition. ¡°Focus!¡± The warm feeling spreads through my arm, and the familiar bloating begins. I quickly halt it, retracting the power. I want to enjoy my healed arms for as long as possible, knowing I¡¯ll break them again before gaining enough points to enhance them with rough skin and endurance. ¡°Inventory!¡± *Bleep* ¡°Woohoo! I¡¯m not dead! I¡¯m not dead at all!¡± *Fwoosh* *Thud* To feel as safe as possible, I grasp my weapon. The leathery, cold horn handle from the massive bug, with the poorly attached hammerhead, is enough for me. I swing it a few times before my Focus auto-activates to support my arm. ¡°Good, good.¡± The icon of the Hummer sits steadily in the slot right next to where my hammer was. I already know why I took the hammer out. There¡¯s only one way up, and the quarry is deep enough that I might not be able to jump and grab the edge with my hands. But on the other hand, my hammer could be a great asset for climbing out of this hole. There are two ways to do it¡ªeither I smash the stone wall and create footholds, or I jump up to the edge and hook it with my hammerhead, pulling myself up. I turn to the shortest of the walls, as the quarry is uneven taking a few solid steps forward. Rubbing the wall with my left palm, I notice how easily the stone sands down. ¡°This might not be very strong. What do you think?¡± I raise a corner of my mouth while glancing at my hammer. Since it¡¯s enchanted and part of it came from a real living creature, I don¡¯t mind talking to it occasionally. Why not add a spin for extra impact? *Fwoosh* *Bonk* The hammerhead buries itself inside the rocky wall as I smack it. I wiggle it free, grunting as I try to keep my Focus level low. Crumbs and dust fall out as I unstick it. *Cough* The dust I inhale makes me cough immediately. ¡°Good.¡± One test done, but do I really need to do it this way? I wonder why I didn¡¯t try the jumping method first. Probably because if I fail to catch the edge, I¡¯ll fall from three or four meters, right onto the hard surface. With my luck, I¡¯d probably land on my head, crack my skull, and die, while already dead from dying before. ¡°Wait!¡± I look up, raising my eyebrows. There¡¯s one thing I forgot to test¡ªa little jerk. Without hesitation, I *Snap* my fingers. *Poof* I¡¯ve never been so happy to see him, but this might be the first time. ¡°Meow.¡± ¡°Yeah! Meow, meow.¡± I respond. ¡°So here I am. Dead while I was dead. What was all that about?¡± I ask the floating fluff ball. ¡°Well,¡± he answers with his funny little voice. ¡°Well? Now you¡¯re starting sentences properly?¡± ¡°Of power.¡± Chapter 75 - The Well of Power I gaze quietly at the floating, cute beast, looking directly into his yellow eyes, which have tiny shards and hints of a light blue color. His pupils are wide, as the night sky stretches above us. This encounter with him is definitely less scary; his wide pupils make him look more human than beast. I expected some uncanny valley effect, but it¡¯s not bad at all. He simply floats there in the air like a loaf of bread, with his paws curled underneath his belly. Occasionally, he waves his tail and stares at me, waiting for my answer. Almost like he¡¯s teasing me, eagerly wanting to see my reaction. ¡°Did you just say ''well of power''?¡± I blink continuously while staring at his pink snout with many whiskers underneath. ¡°Meow.¡± He answers with a nod. ¡°Okaay.¡± I gulp while quickly nodding in understanding. My eyes wander for a brief second, imagining all the crazy scenarios and possibilities a well of power could mean for me. I imagine a fountain filled with blue glowing liquid, which I will drink to gain powers. ¡°We have barely a minute here, so first of all, is this a permanent new realm I¡¯m now stuck in?¡± I quickly decide, based on previous encounters, that bombarding him with questions is a bad idea. I need to quickly ask relevant stuff in the most straightforward way, to save time and squeeze as much info as I can get, or else I¡¯ll have to wait here for who knows how long again. ¡°No.¡± He answers right away. Good, good. ¡°Is this some sort of secret you only told me? Am I the only one who made it here?¡± ¡°No.¡± Gosh, okay. I don¡¯t have time for this now. ¡°What is this well of power, some kind of water? Am I getting some new cool powers out of this or what?¡± I halt my flow of thoughts and stop after two questions. ¡°Yes. Meow.¡± He confirms. I assume that "yes" is for both questions. ¡°Where is it, and how do I get the powers?¡± I cover my eyes with my hand, facepalming after I again asked two separate things. He tilts his head up and nods above the castle walls. ¡°Which arch out of these?¡± I ask. ¡°Any.¡± The cat answers quickly. Hmm, okay. I nod, feeling reassured that my initial plan to climb up is what needs to be done anyway. ¡°How do I get the powers?¡± I ask immediately. This feels more like an interrogation, but due to the small time frame, it has to be done this way. ¡°Drink.¡± "Mlem." I chuckle as he licks his tiny nose just after saying "drink." Good, it seems my clich¨¦ imagination was right and is now confirmed. ¡°So how do I get out of there after I gain my new powers?¡± I ask next, hoping for a positive answer.
¡°Die.¡± The small white feline has no chill with me.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it ¡°Ugh. Okay.¡± I gulp. Goddammit. What is this? Death and pain are literally the "Confirm" button here¡ªI shake my head from side to side. But it shouldn¡¯t matter to me; I have a bottle of acid, and my death could now be whatever I want. Maybe I¡¯ll just jump out of one of those windows to conquer my fear of heights and desensitize myself a bit more. Stopping my train of thought, I look at Pocco once again. He seems comfortable and eager to help me. Despite claiming I¡¯m his owner, he¡¯s definitely getting something out of this. ¡°So after all that, will you gain some powers with me too?¡± I ask, raising one eyebrow. ¡°Statue.¡± That¡¯s enough for me. We¡¯ll look for the cave and statue in the desert anyway. From the length of our conversation, I already know he¡¯ll disappear soon. To finally show my gratitude and because I feel a bit guilty for hating this small fella, I ask him one last question. ¡°Can I pet you?¡± His ears immediately move backward, and his whiskers go up slightly as he anticipates the pat. ¡°Meow.¡± *Scratching soft fur* followed by *Sneeze* My hand rubs his almost velvet-like fur a few times up and down. This part of his body is no longer translucent and is partially materialized. A lot of dust particles are spewed into the air, causing me to sneeze right away. Guess I won¡¯t be getting allergy pills prescription anytime soon here. Thank God I don¡¯t have any plant allergies. *Poof* *Sneeze, sneeze* He disappears from under my hand, and another wave of dust hits my nostrils. No time to slack off. I¡¯m already stressed, knowing that the old man is probably sprinting towards the desert. Time to use my Focus.
With my sledgehammer dragging behind me, held in my right hand, I start sprinting from the center of the quarry towards the shortest of the walls. Before analyzing the best spot to stop and jump, I channel most of my power into my lower body. The special move that was spontaneously discovered and rendered pretty useful against the Exiled One, and later even against Rhinoceros, will be recycled for climbing purposes. ¡°Aaaaaargh. Now!¡± *Jump* I launch myself into the air, towards the sandstone block. Mid-air, my power shifts with ease¡ªI¡¯m kind of baffled at how easy this is to perform. *Clang* The hammerhead gets stuck in the crack, probably made by the hammer itself. Now my muscle mass is in my forearms, shoulders, and mostly in my hands. I¡¯m lucky that the bug¡¯s horn is coarse and dented enough not to slip. Maybe rubbing the stone floor with my sweaty palms was enough to get them covered in stone dust, making them perfect for gripping, just like a mountain climber¡¯s pouch filled with white chalk or whatever that powder is. My sneakers never disappoint anyway¡ªslippery, heavily thinned, and weathered soles are still good enough to let me hang over the sandstone wall. Gripping my hammer tightly with my left hand, I try to reach over the edge with my right. With a slight grunt, I pull myself up enough that the strain on the already weak horn-to-shiny-metal connection finally eases. ¡°Grr. Phew.¡± Pulling myself up, I hop to my feet and lean on the hammer, dusting my clothes a bit. This in-the-air power-shifting move could be further mastered, but I need to practice it¡ªgreat, another thing for my never-ending task list.
  • Visit Pyrios and ask him for a better sledgehammer head-to-bug''s-horn connection
  • Search and gather green berries
  • Desert berries? From the weathered list
  • Practice jump and smash while shifting Focus
  • Find the Well of Power
  • Find Pocco¡¯s statue
  • Find the treasure cave near the desert from the old maps
  • Explore the first settlement
  • What was the beast that made that noise when the fat merchant''s temple disappeared?
  • What¡¯s in the sinkhole?
  • What the hell is that gargantuan black castle?
  • Dig up a trench and a small pond, shift water from the river near the Exiled One¡¯s tower
  • Unlock the skill next to Endurance
¡°Mmmm, what else?¡± I touch my chin while gazing at the many archways. "Ahh, yes. Loot the lecherous knight¡¯s remains and improve my fashion." I giggle a bit. But now, it¡¯s time to climb again.
There is only one way up, and it¡¯s through the archway. Gazing up for a good minute, examining the masonry and skill behind the tall structure, my neck starts to hurt. *Inhale deeply* ¡°Time to repeat your favorite move, Mark.¡± But this time I feel a lot more stressed before doing it. Despite the archways being about the same height, maybe even shorter, than the ground level here, I¡¯m afraid of the one-time chance. This is no joke anymore. I feel more confident fighting foes with acid because if I die, I still have plenty left. But this time... This time it¡¯s different. If I fail to grab the ledge, I might fall seven meters, and that combined with the hard surface below is more than lethal. If my only escape from this place is death, I might waste my chance to visit the well. *Exhaling deeply while shaking a bit*
¡°God, help me this time. I know I never ask you for help and don¡¯t even know how to pray anymore, but... Please, I can¡¯t fail this jump.¡± I mumble worthless words while squatting and wiggling my legs apart, finding the best spot to launch myself up once again. ¡°Fuh, fuh, fuh.¡± Tightening myself up before executing the jump, I keep gazing at the spot in the arch, deciding that locking my hammer around the corner is the safest way to avoid any unwanted slip. *Fwoosh* I launch myself up¡ªthe hammer swings around my head, and I precisely smack the rocky wall. The exact place I had been staring at the whole time. *Clang* The hammerhead locks in perfectly, exactly as I planned. Quickly pulling myself up, I pat the floor with my hands, trying to get as far as possible from the edge as the stress makes me dizzy.
An empty small room, more like a corridor¡ªnothing else here besides the small marble-carved sink sticking out of the wall, like the ones in churches but wider. The walls are all natural, with no decorations. Room is dusty and feels forgotten. Leaning my hammer against the wall, I approach the sink and boldly dip my hands in, spooning the crystal-clear water. ¡°Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrgggghhh!¡± ¡°Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrgggghhh!¡± ¡°Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrgggghhh!¡± Chapter 76 - The Well of Horror ¡°Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrgggghhh!¡± ¡°Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrggggghhh!¡± I can¡¯t stop screaming. Shaking all over the place, my screams are resonating in the open vast area. My screams are echoing back to me from all those different archways and windows. If there is anyone or anything present, they would know about my presence right away. The black hissing flesh, including my bones, starts to melt. I watch my hands disappearing and liquefying in front of my eyes. The pain is excruciating, and I toy with the thought of launching myself headfirst down through the windows I just climbed into. Maybe my skull will crack, and I will get out of this. Fuck the well, fuck the power. This is the most excruciating pain I''ve ever experienced. I can barely see as my eyes are all teary; I spit saliva, and snot is hanging from my nose. That pain is far worse than the acid from the flatheads. This is fucking flatheads'' acid on steroids. ¡°Aaaaaaaaaaargh!¡± I keep screaming and mindlessly wandering the room, splattering melted flesh and a lot of blood all around the floor. ¡°You fucking dumbass!¡± Should¡¯ve used a droplet of acid right away when you learned you¡¯re alive here. ¡°Inventory!¡± I barely say out loud while leaning over the wall. The flesh has bubbled off without cauterizing the wounds, and all I can see are two stumps heavily squirting blood from them. I hover one of the stumps over the bronze plate and tediously point right towards the acid bottle. Kinda not caring anymore what I¡¯m gonna pull out. If the hummer materializes right here and smashes me over the head¡ªnot caring about anything anymore. *Fwoosh* followed by a *Thud* *Glass shattering noise* Apparently, I can push the item out of the inventory without using my fingers, just a slight push towards the icon with my body part, and it starts materializing. The glass bottle containing flatheads'' acid shatters over the dusty sandstone floor and soaks into it. ¡°Ah fuck!¡± Screaming through the tears, I smash my bloody stump into the liquid and glass shards. My body is so numb and exhausted from the pain that I start to feel convulsions in my calves and back. If this won¡¯t work, I¡¯m going straight head-down to the stone slab. *Hiss* The flesh on the melted side of my stump starts to bubble, but I cannot even tell where the pain is coming from. It hisses as it melts and turns black in an instant. The blood is still flowing from the wounds melted by the acid from the so-called well of power. Glass shards stick out of the flesh, and a bit of bone marrow sticks out from the melted bones¡ªI keep shaking from the shock and disgust.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. The parts that got covered in flatheads'' acid are slowly getting charred and crumbly.
A few moments of torment later and *Everything stops* I sit in the pool of a mixture of blood, acid, melted hands, and glass shards. Staring at the ornament-decorated wall in front of me, I see my blood-spurting stumps in my peripheral vision. My heart is racing, yet my blood pressure is getting lower and lower. It feels like not only the pain has stopped but also time itself. ¡°You made it, hothead! Now don¡¯t waste it!¡± I whisper to myself. Locating the flatheads'' acid puddle, I dip my stumps into it, mixing the spurting blood with the acid. It starts to hiss right away, and a terrible smell complements another smell that is already present: burnt flesh and melted, boiled flesh and blood. Still in mild shock, I notice that I haven¡¯t blinked in a while, as my first blink now feels dry and coarse. It seems that one of my eyelids got flipped a bit, and I need to fix it, but I can¡¯t. ¡°Dammit.¡± I can¡¯t even rub my eyes with these charred pieces of flesh and sharp bones sticking out of them. *Exhaling and inhaling* deeply, I comprehend what just happened and what I should even do next. Shifting my sight towards the second object in the room besides the cursed sink, I look at my hammer, which calmly sits near the wall, and I wonder if I should even try to store it now or what. Climbing higher up is out of the question anyway. I sigh. What are my options here? There is only one way out, and that is death. I can crack my skull with a dive or dip my head into that cursed fountain, but before I do, I should at least store my hammer. Not that I lost and wasted a life without any gain. I¡¯m not gonna risk losing my only weapon¡ªand it¡¯s even enchanted. Without supporting my arms, I barely stand up, looking around. A few steps, and I dare to approach that damn marble sink again. ¡°Who would have thought it¡¯s so fucking deadly?¡± I shake my head while gazing at the still pool of crystal-clear, transparent liquid, indistinguishable from water. Hiding my stumps behind my back, I walk through the room towards the archway. The sky, which is visible only through the rectangle between the tall walls, feels not so calming anymore as I comprehend what shit I just went through again. There is one archway in front of me, just a bit higher than the one I''m standing in. I lean with my shoulder against the archway, which is lined with red stone bricks. They leave markings and dust on my turquoise shirt, or more likely what''s left of it. Tilting my head from side to side, I try to see what''s in the room. It seems identical, and I think I even see the damn wide marble sink sticking out from the wall. What a fuckery. I shake my head, a bit angry and annoyed. What if all of these are the same? Do I seriously have to jump like a grasshopper around these and check? Insanely dangerous, and only one mistake and I¡¯m done. But I can already think of a few ideas. Maybe the old man could help. I look up at the archway and notice how tall it is compared to me, which might be about twice the height of an average human. By simple calculation, I can craft a rope ladder or some sort of hook with a rope to throw up, lock in place, and climb it since the inventory works more than well here. ¡°Yeah. Good one.¡± This will definitely do. I will ask the old man to help with the craft. But now, I need to die and get the hell out of here.
A shiver runs down my spine as I turn around to check the sink again. By making up my new plan, my brain already forgot how the room looks. Despite it being my own blood and flesh, it is extremely haunting and uncomfortable to look at blood- and acid-melted flesh staining the floor and partially the walls. As I spin, I make a lot of mess, preparing the room for a horror movie backstage. If I could call the little jerk again, I¡¯d tell him! What a mess. I get a bit angry at the cat again, as it seems he was indeed lying to me now. ¡°Pfft. Drink from any of these, my ass.¡±
Moving towards the hammer, I tediously grab it with the stumps, feeling phantom pain despite the fact I¡¯m on the painkiller acid right now. *Fwoosh* It stores in my inventory after a couple of tries to lift it to the desired level. What else can I lose? I imagine that to give this place a final test, I can indeed try to kill myself by dipping my head in the liquid. My brain wanders again, and a horrifying scene flashes in front of my eyes. What if I somehow survive but melt my face off, including my eyes? Part of my brain might get damaged, yet I¡¯ll still be alive a bit, lying on the ground, gurgling blood, being in a zombie state with half of my brain missing. ¡°Then don¡¯t dip your head in it, just the tip of your tongue.¡± I should really get out of here as soon as possible. I don¡¯t remember talking to myself aloud this often. One dip with my tongue, just to make sure. I give myself the final task.
Approaching the still water, I see my exhausted reflection with large dark purple circles under my eyes and a few more red spots in the whites of my eyes¡ªdefinitely popped veins from the stress and pain. Hair stuck to my greasy forehead and an overall extremely exhausted expression. I lean towards the odorless liquid with my arms behind my back and stick my tongue out a bit. *Dip* The end of my tongue dips into the watery liquid. *Nothing happens* *Slurp* I pull my tongue in while sipping a droplet accidentally. Gazing at the surface, I wait a few seconds for it to calm down and assess the damage I await by sticking out my tongue. Nothing. ¡°Maybe, after all... That little jerk.¡± Raising my eyebrows, I gaze at my reflection, wondering. *Slurp* I purse my lips and take a sip of the liquid. Trying to analyze the taste, nothing seems to be off. Maybe it is already melting my intestines.
Ah, fuck it! *Slurp Slurp Gulp Slurp Slurp Slurp Gulp Gulp Gulp Gulp Gulp Gulp* Chapter 77 - The Power Within Eyes closed, my mouth does all the work, chugging it in the largest gulps humanly possible, like I was in a rush, stressed that I might not make it in time. It could dissolve flesh and bone, and I can barely breathe as a stinging pain emerges in my chest. But it¡¯s not from the acid¡ªit''s from my furious chugging. ¡°Ahh.¡± I sigh with relief after chugging the whole freaking basin. No regrets. When there''s nothing to lose, with the knowledge that death is the only way out of this vast, mysterious place. The probably most dangerous substance I''ve ever encountered in my life drips freely from my chin. I¡¯m not even sure if it''s melting it off or not; all I can focus on is the fact that it¡¯s refreshing after all the pain and pressure I had to endure, which even made some of the tiny veins in my eyes implode. Still able to breathe freely, I wonder if it was all real indeed. The minuscule feeling of joy is broken right away after looking at my horrific stumps. Back in reality, followed by a shiver. It is still extremely uneasy and grotesque. The peculiar smell from the rotten flesh and bones, blood, and the acid itself in this room adds to everything.
Quickly, I decide to unbutton my weathered and stained shirt with the help of my teeth and the force of my shoulders. The small, weathered buttons¡ªtwo of them missing¡ªand the loose holes do the trick. I start to pat over my stomach with my stumps. ¡°How is that even possible?!¡± I wonder aloud. ¡°Tsa!¡± Tediously walking back, shards of broken glass pierce through my squishy sneaker soles. There is nothing else to do here, seriously. If I wasn¡¯t so stupid and didn¡¯t dip both hands in, I might still be able to climb to the other window. Sigh. Heck, I can¡¯t even call for the cat if needed, unless I can snap with my toes. I release some air from my nostrils instead of a chuckle. Whatever this fluid was, I think it was a decoy and a possible trap. I need to get back as soon as possible as I cannot shake off the uncomfortable feeling I hadn¡¯t felt since I was transported here¡ªthe feeling of being a burden. I bet that now they risk it all for the sake of a rescue, despite the fact that they warned me to stop lifting it. Gosh! I¡¯d better stash my weapon and find a quick way out. Either I use my focus again or melt the crust on my stump; I¡¯ve lost a good portion of blood anyway. I frown, looking at the stained room I just left behind me.
*Fwoosh* After a few tries to grab and lift my hammer, which was leaning against the wall, I finally manage to balance it with my stumps and lift it to the proper height to store in the inventory. It smoothly shrinks down and disappears. Great. Now for the other, more gory part. I walk across the room once again toward the archway opening. Gazing at the bottom of the stone rectangular room, I quickly decide not even to try it.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. The height doesn¡¯t guarantee I¡¯ll die right away. I might end up with only broken limbs, laying there paralyzed for who knows how long. And after all that, the acid will wear off in time, and I¡¯d be exposed to excruciating pain again.
After a final gaze over the tall walls and the archways, I turn on the spot and head back toward the basin. There is some liquid left at the bottom, so I very carefully dip a small piece of black, cauterized flesh in. As it soaks, it starts to slowly liquefy and dissolve, mixing the reddish substance with the rest of the water from the basin. I quickly glance at the spot where the broken bottle sits in a tiny puddle of the painkiller acid, just to make sure I can still dip into it if, by any magic, the painkiller effect wears off. ¡°Hmmpf.¡± I look at the terrible thing, expecting and imagining the pain from before, but it¡¯s not present. ¡°Phew. Good, I can go all in.¡± I keep talking to myself aloud while cleaning the marble sink with my stump like I was cleaning a toilet with a toilet brush. *Hiss* I clench my teeth a few times and squint my eyes as the sharp edge of the two sticking bones accidentally scratches over the rough surface of the sink, getting close to the edge. Sigh. This is enough. I turn my sight away as the soaked flesh starts to slowly drip while holding my right hand over the edge of the marble sink. Breathing in the smelly air from my own decomposing body part, I notice how my pulse is extremely fast, and my head is spinning. Mere seconds pass, and I take a peek at the hand¡ªblood is slowly dripping from one of the veins, but it is too slow. ¡°Okay, come on!¡± I grunt and decide to speed it up a bit. Another walk across the room, I splash whatever liquid mixture is distributed in the small ponds over the floor as I walk, completely unaware of my steps. Dark clouds start to appear in front of my face, and I know I¡¯m nearing the end. Kneeling down, and with a loud thud, I fall on my stomach, laying down and sticking my right bleeding arm, together with my head, out of the archway. I watch the walls connected to the rectangular quarry and focus only on the present moment. ¡°I should enjoy this.¡± It might be the last moment of my life or the last moment in this strange world. I might wake up in the hospital after the fall back in the forest. Mike might be a douchey young assistant to the old doctor with a gray stubble, and Astrid might be a nurse. The blood starts to drip faster, and I can hear droplets of it splashing at the bottom. It is so quiet here. Closing my eyes for the last time, I release my final breath.
*Loud wind whistling* Huh? In a fetal position, my fists closed tightly, eyes shut, all I can sense is the loud wind and a slight pressure all over my body. ¡°Loud wind, huh?¡± This is not my bed, nor a hospital bed, nor any other makeshift shelter. Wiggling a bit, I can feel the coarse movement all over my body. Opening my fists, I grab a handful of sand and squeeze it between my fingers. Sleepy and cozy despite the haunting wind whistling around me. Eyes still shut as they are covered under a blanket of sand. ¡°At least my hands are back!¡± The corner of my mouth raises, and the sand moves almost into my nostrils. *Fwoosh* I raise my arm, piercing through the sand coverage, up into the wind, releasing the crust over my face, finally allowing me to breathe in my first inhale of surprisingly cold air. Pushing myself up out of the sand, I can already see through my closed eyelids. It is definitely night. Before, the sun over the desert was so bright and strong I had to shade my forehead even with my eyes closed. This is different, yet I know exactly where I am. The sudden cozy feeling is only present in special places. Wiggling a bit more, I finally manage to sit up. Dusting off the sand from my face and shaking it out of my hair, I finally open my eyes. A vast desert spreads toward the dark, tall horizon, dunes covered in patterns created by the strong winds. Time has definitely passed while I was gone, but there is no trace of the party members. We made it across the desert in a few minutes by car, and they reached the bug in a mere hour. Am I stupid and brave enough to use the car now? I toy with the thought for a moment.
Leaning over the spot where flames slightly rise from the dune, I sit cross-legged, imagining I could easily start to meditate, as the scenery is something one can only dream of. So the damn liquid rendered nothing good. I¡¯ve learned a lot, definitely, but still... What a waste. I concluded while carefully taking off my shoes and pouring about a handful of sand out of them. It seems that my socks are near the end of their life cycle too. ¡°Sigh.¡± What else was I expecting? Of course, your life would be spared because you died while being technically dead in the first place. Just shut up! Be glad that only one of them is missing and not both. I appreciate that I not only have only two pinky toes missing and nothing else, but, most importantly, that my hands are back. Truly an amazing feeling to have such a complex and useful body part. *Inhaling the fresh air before speaking* ¡°Inventory.¡± I whisper calmly. The acid bottle is missing, the ability to feel pain is back, and the hummer and the hammer sit next to each other. ¡°Inventory.¡± It closes after my second command. Out of curiosity... ¡°Skills.¡± A bright, levitating panel appears.
¡°My god!¡± Chapter 78 - Reunion Once More
A crazy smile on my face starts to crack wide in slow motion, like a damn Grinch. My eyes scream with joy, and my teeth are exposed like never before. I barely had any hope left, as I''d already given up on the possibility that the latest events would bring any gain or result. Something definitely happened, and there¡¯s no way this is a bad outcome. My strength was first shown in plain color, simply engraved on the bronze-augmented floating panel. Later on, when I chose my first skill, the skill name appeared in dark turquoise, like it had oxidized into the plate¡ªthe same color as the Statue of Liberty, but now, the whole line is glowing dim gold, standing out completely from the other entries.
Markus Rain foreigner level 64
Strength 60 Focus [Bonus Skill]
Agility 3 no skill
Willpower 4 no skill
Endurance 10 no skill
I have no idea what that even means, but I somehow know that being gold and shiny is definitely an upgrade compared to oxidized green. Why it¡¯s connected to my Strength and Focus skill is a mystery to me, but I can guess¡ªsimply, it''s my only stat with a skill attached or basically my primary and most used form with the highest accumulated number, of course. How do I even activate this? I wonder, sitting there still in a cross-legged position, half of my legs buried in the sand.
It¡¯s almost dark; the sky is covered in heavy clouds, and the weather is nearly the same as it was at the mysterious quarry with the basin¡ªor let¡¯s call it the Well of Power, not my words, but Poccos¡¯s. ¡°Sorry, fluffball, I¡¯m not gonna call you names anymore. You have your own weird, simple way of communicating, but the stupid one here is definitely me. You were right, and I thank you for choosing me.¡± I say out loud, like a prayer, knowing it might not even be heard by anyone, but I feel a deep gratitude¡ªdefinitely an aftereffect of the inevitable hype I just got from the glowing letters. Looking all around, I kneel and pivot in place while supporting myself with my hands. Even though I lost them only for a brief moment when they melted off, I¡¯m glad that I feel them and see them now. I never thought the present moment could feel so satisfying. The dune behind me is definitely the one with a view over the black humongous castle, I assume quickly, even though the hole where we dug the Hummer out and the carcass of the rhinoceros bug are probably well buried in the sand and changed by now. ¡°Yep. This should be the fast route toward the place I died.¡± At least I think I know. Jeez. Sigh. I hope Harald isn¡¯t trying to salvage my clothes as spares. I don¡¯t want them to see me naked, but at least a second pair of weathered sneakers and another bulletproof vest would be good for the future use. A quick thought flashes, and I quickly open my inventory, checking for the spare slots:You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. One jug of fresh water, One silver pitcher, Tall armchair, A bundle of keys, Wooden stick, Bulletproof vest, Plastic container filled with chunks of cooked or dried meat, Metal dining plate, Simple fork with only three teeth, Rather deep spoon, Small bowl (ready for Harald¡¯s soup), One simple metal cup without any handle, One dull knife, Huge golden sledgehammer with a peculiar, flexible organic handle, A whole yellow Hummer car. Fifteen items with one slot left again. Always only one slot, as my bulletproof vest was on me, but I had one glass bottle filled with flathead acid on me. Shame it¡¯s all lost. I secretly want to get hit by the acid again and enjoy that zero-pain sensation. Being all dark and murky, I already know now is the perfect time for one of my possessions I¡¯ve saved for moments like this. First, I take out my hammer from my inventory and grip it tightly. Then, I pull out the bulletproof vest, put it on, and adjust the laces and Velcro tightly around myself. The third item to materialize in my hand is a deformed silver pitcher. As it appears, I grab it gently by the ornamental handle. With my two finally clean, freshly grown fingers, I gently pluck one of the tiny black berries between my index finger and thumb. *Pop* ¡°Omnomnom.¡± A quick toss after a brief sniff, and the tart, rather hard berry pops in my mouth, probably staining my teeth dark purple. ¡°Gosh!¡± I hover the pitcher over the metal plate, watching as everything changes colors, like someone flicked a switch and turned everything bright with a hint of blue. Focusing my gaze into the distance, I can¡¯t shake the haunting feeling as everything takes on a blue tint. ¡°You¡¯re the predator now! Stop being afraid. Mike¡¯s powers are yours for a short time, and you can freely use both eyes. Be glad,¡± I encourage myself in this vast, empty, yet dangerous desert, and finally start walking toward my goal.
*Loud blast* ¡°Fuck!¡± Even before I take my first step, I crouch instinctively. What the hell? Harald! That¡¯s definitely the shotgun; I¡¯m more than sure. But from the direction the blast came, I must be slightly off course. Squinting, I turn toward the still-echoing sound. *Blast* Another loud bang from the single-barrel shotgun, accompanied by a bright flash. My night vision passive effect picks it up easily. Time to give them a helping hand¡ªor more likely, the hammer. The blinking dot in the distance seems far, so I hide my weapon right away and go for my old, well-known move¡ªsand jumping. Crouching slightly, I call for Focus with my tongue. Muscle mass shifts from my upper body to my lower body as usual, and I stop it quickly before it reaches too high a level. I¡¯m not about to strain my silky-smooth, freshly grown skin by overuse, and I quickly launch myself forward again, closing almost a dozen meters in one jump, avoiding the tedious, laborious walk through the deep sand. *Fwoosh* One jump follows another, and each occasional flash of a bright dot is followed by a loud bang. I can count almost five dots in the distance, with one slightly apart from the others. It¡¯s Harald and the party versus the acid flatheads. I¡¯d bet the one farther away is Astrid.
*Loud voices, screaming, and gunfire* ¡°As I said, he¡¯ll be here in twenty seconds! Now come and help!¡± Mike yells, his headscarf loose around his neck, one eye squinting, and the monkey eye wide open. Dual-wielding sabers, he spins swiftly, striking two targets precisely. *Bang. Bang. Bang.* The pale girl sits in the sand, leaning against one of the rocky tops of a flathead, shooting her Glock. I see that Harald and she look slightly disoriented yet are aiming carefully. Only Mike and I, with our night vision, seem fully aware of the situation.
It seems they¡¯ve managed to kill nearly four on their own, and I feel a bit bad that the old man had to waste a few dozen more rounds of precious ammo. ¡°More incoming!¡± Mike yells, his night vision apparently picking up life signs. I bet both he and Astrid leveled up a bit; that¡¯s probably why they¡¯re so confident in this fight. Still, I feel a strong need to repay them. ¡°Prepare for your finishers!¡± I announce proudly. Grasping my hammer tightly, I crouch and go for my ultimate move. *Fwoosh* Jumping into the air, I channel my slightly used, heavily regulated Focus to my arms. *Bang* Hitting the hardest part of the beast, I crack its dome wide open. "That''ll do!" I smirk. *Squelch* Mike rushes in, buries his saber deep, then quickly jumps back to avoid any splatter from the flathead. In the meanwhile I see the old man holster his gun and join Astrid. With zero hesitation, I launch myself into the air toward the next flathead traversing the sand. Landing and jumping up again swiftly, I start to feel a slight strain in my muscles. *Bang* The hammer buries into the hardened top, and as I pull it out, another massive chunk of its malformed skull breaks away¡ªat least, that¡¯s what I assume it is. Mike wastes no time, jumping in with a precise saber strike. The last one is close enough, and I decide to try something new.
My hammer head rests on the ground in the sand, and I hold the handle with both hands. Crouching low, I release a lot of power¡ªI can tell by the strain in my sweatpants. *Fwoosh* Flying straight up above the foe, I know this jump is higher than I¡¯ve ever done. Shifting my power, I let the flow continue, secretly hoping my new ability will awaken. *Bang*
"Dude what the fuck is that?!" Chapter 79 - Not Alone My sight is blinded as I''m falling down straight with my hammer head underneath me. *Bang* I feel no pain, yet I don''t see for a brief moment. All I can feel is terrible strain on my shoulders from the impact. A satisfying bang with a powerful crack resonates in my ears, and a slight pain starts to emerge from the bottoms of my feet. A simple, fast thought flashes through my mind. Dummy, wasn¡¯t simply smashing the thing not enough? Nighttime is for exploring the new fancy powers, not now! The pain in my feet is either from the landing or the acid melting god knows which part of my body.
My eyesight finally adjusts after the bright yellow flash, so I can assume that my eyes were not hit by anything. Something shined as I landed, and my night vision exaggerated it. Looking beneath myself quickly to assess the damage, I see my legs knee-deep in the sand and the wide-open carcass of a trilobite creature releasing its last breaths. Its health bar disappears the moment I open my eyes. *Ding* ¡°You just had to steal it for yourself, right?¡± Mike breaks the sudden silence in the vast desert. My arms are deflating, and I stand there quietly, ignoring his stupid remarks. What concerns me more is that not only do my feet hurt from the sudden fall, but some weird pain is in my stomach too. Feels almost like I ate something spicy. *Squelch* I grunt as I use the remaining energy to pull out the hammer from the carcass. *Hiss* ¡°Shit, shit!¡± The weird feeling in my gut is put right on the second lane as I hear hissing from the head and handle connection of my hammer. Wiggling it quickly around, I bash it in the sand to suck up all the moisture. ¡°No, no, no, no¡­¡± I mutter under my nose. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± asks the night vision bearer, clearly forgetting that the acid did melt one of the shields before. The hammer handle was once a part of a living thing, and it seems that the weakest spot got slightly covered in acid and started to melt¡ªexactly as the first shield was destroyed. Great, there is no better time to visit the blacksmith statue in the cave. Ignoring Mike and the pain, I rub some of the sand manually over the spot, trying to stop dissolving as fast as possible, saving my precious weapon. Now, after I¡¯m completely sure the melting has stopped, I open my inventory and use the remaining energy to toss the hammer inside. It shrinks into a miniature right away. My brain starts to focus on the second important thing¡ªthe pain in my gut. ¡°Ugh.¡± I grunt as I hold my stomach with my hand. My eyes are crossing, and the closest thing I can imagine to describe the pain is chugging a whole bottle of Da Bomb.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. *Thud* Letting myself go, I bash with my back into the sand, feet still knee-deep. ¡°Mark! What¡¯s going on?¡± the old man asks, wading through the sand. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I just wanted to test something new and ended up doing something stupid again,¡± I answer while laying there, gazing up at the stars. ¡°You¡¯ve seen that golden flash too, right?¡± Mike asks the old man, Astrid crawls toward us. ¡°What do you mean?¡± He shakes his head. What the hell is he talking about? I wonder. A golden flash? Might be the thing that blinded me. Or that was the showcase of my new power? ¡°What golden flash? Where?¡± While heavily breathing through the stomach ache, I ask the skinny man. ¡°Your stomach flashed like you¡¯ve eaten the brightest light bulb on earth. What is this?¡± he asks with a slightly suspicious tone. ¡°I... I¡¯m not sure. I was just trying to overuse my Focus. That¡¯s it,¡± I answer after a slight pause and now hope that it wasn¡¯t too obvious. He is definitely suspecting that I have another new power, which he does not. ¡°Can you walk, boy?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not trying to hurry, but we should get back to safety as soon as possible. The closest safe place is the cave we¡¯ve slept in already.¡± The old man must be reading my mind. I crack a smile through the pain. ¡°Yes, yes, I was thinking about that place. I¡¯ll be fine; give me a second and I will catch up,¡± I answer while still laying there, in front of a carcass of a trilobite creature. ¡°I hope so. I don¡¯t feel like I could carry you around.¡± He looks at me from the top; clearly, he does not see me well, but I see his expression more than clear in a blue tint, and it makes me hurt a bit. He is disappointed, shaking his head in disbelief that I made a stupid, dangerous test, just right after I died from one. That fall was probably close to being lethal, as I used not only Focus but somehow even my new power. The enchanted hammer''s weight reacts to the power I wield, so it was probably extremely heavy and pulled me down with more force¡ªwithout me noticing as the enchantment ignores what I feel. If the old man only knew what secret I¡¯ve just uncovered.
No more encounters; it¡¯s a straight walk towards the edge with Mike leading the way, carrying his girlfriend. I chit-chat a bit with Harald, planning our night and lighting the candles to warm up the place and add extra coziness. He does not ask about the death and completely avoids talking about the events.
*Powerful jet pocket lighter sound* The old man lights the first thick candle to which Mike points him. We repeat what we did before, slowly expanding the light in the cave by lighting more and more candles, at least for the rest of the crew. Everything is looking intact, and despite waking up completely rejuvenated a few hours ago, I feel terribly sleepy now. With my night vision, a slight gaze into the flame is more than painful for me. Mike switches his eyes and he¡¯s done, unlike me now. I explain all this and tug myself into the sleeping bag in the farthest corner. *Snap* Astrid calls for Pocco and cuddles before sleeping. They don¡¯t talk, only pet and cuddle, and that is a big *phew* for me, as I¡¯m the one holding a second secret from all of them. This is not going to end well if I continue.
Waking up after a long night''s sleep, I quickly notice I¡¯m the only one in the cave, well, if I don¡¯t count the godling statue which might or might not be present at all. The first thing that comes to my mind is that I possess a new, undiscovered power. What it does and how I activate it is a mystery for me. Closing my fist tightly, I call for Focus and shift the muscle mass. My fist and my forearm swell and pump, veins protruding, my forearm almost twice the size. At the moment, I stop the focus. Now, what? I ask myself, gazing at my arm. ¡°Come on, new power! Do your magic!¡± I whisper while thinking of it, but nothing happens, as hard as I try to activate it. I stop right away after being interrupted by voices, which are coming from the crack in the wall. I assume the party simply went outside to have breakfast. ¡°Good!¡± I whisper. Jumping on my feet and relocating closer to the pedestal, I pull myself up with ease by slightly using Focus. My hammer slides right into the hand of a statue. Standing up there, almost face-to-face with the statue, I''m eagerly awaiting. *Whoosh* The hammer disappears, and I await the voice to start talking, though I¡¯m kinda stressed as I¡¯d rather do this secretly. It might be all because of Mike anyway¡ªI justify my shady actions.
¡°Ohhhhh, you again?¡± the voice resonates. ¡°Ssshhhhhh.¡± I grab the statue by the other hand, trying to hush it. ¡°I know that this might sound rude, but can you please fix my handle joint?¡± ¡°The beetle is deeead? Bring the proof to my brother Verdalos; he will like it a lot!¡± ¡°Ssshhhh, sorry, and thank you,¡± I whisper, not asking him more and end the conversation. Verdalos, good. I will write this down in my task list. The hammer starts to materialize, and a feeling of joy fills my body as the joint looks different than before. It appears fused with the metal itself. ¡°Thank you!¡± I whisper and rub the statue''s hand. Hopping down from the pedestal, I snap my fingers immediately. *Poof* The white cat appears from the dust cloud. ¡°Heyyy, buddy.¡± I awkwardly pat him right away in between his tiny ears, glancing around the cave for any movement. ¡°You could¡¯ve mentioned that the well is filled with the most lethal liquid I¡¯ve ever witnessed, but anyway, my gratitude is unmeasurable,¡± I continue whispering. ¡°Meow.¡± ¡°Now, why did you only tell this to me if anyone can enter that place, right?¡± I carefully pull the information from the ghostly animal. ¡°Three.¡± He answers. I stop for a moment, thinking. ¡°Only three people can get it?¡± I try my luck with the first question. ¡°Yes. Meow.¡± Bingo! I was ready to ask more variants: one can enter it only three times, only three places like that exist, only three archways contain the power, others only acid? My mind wanders. ¡°Good. So two more are available?" "Can, let¡¯s say, Harald and Astrid get them if I tell them about it?¡± I ask the floating cat. ¡°No.¡± He answers right away. ¡°Why not?¡± I frown. ¡°Two are used.¡± Chapter 80 - Buried I gulp, quietly staring, comprehending. Gazing at the floating cat, speechless, my mind wanders, imagining all the possibilities as my eyes are running left and right. Before I even ask another question, the time is up. *Poof* The cat disappears in a dust cloud. ¡°Someone must be more fresh than ever!¡± an old man asks loudly while squeezing through the crack in the rocky wall. ¡°Err. Yes, apparently I went over the limit yesterday again, by overusing my Focus and underestimating the height of a jump.¡± I wiggle out of the awkward small talk as I have no idea what to answer. But deep down, I know that the liar will sooner or later tangle in his own lies¡ªat least that¡¯s what my mom used to always tell me. ¡°There wasn¡¯t time to talk more yesterday.¡± He tries to continue and steer the conversation carefully. ¡°Isn¡¯t there anything you want to tell me? Boy,¡± he adds. *Gulp* ¡°No.¡± ¡°Well, not now.¡± Thinking quietly for a few seconds, I answer with uncertainty. ¡°Good.¡± He nods, looking me in the eye without blinking. *Whoosh* *Thud* ¡°Erm, my hammer." "I¡¯ve asked the blacksmith statue once again, and he fixed the joint. Take a look.¡± I remember to tell him, handing him the sledgehammer straight away. He grabs it with such ease he almost throws it away, but then it *thuds* on the rocky ground as I used only two fingers to lift it, and the enchantment did its trick¡ªmaking it super light, but the moment I stopped touching it, it reversed to its normal weight. ¡°Impossible craftsmanship, all I can say,¡± he tells me after observing it for a few seconds. ¡°The metal and the beetle''s horn are so well fused together, it is impossible to do this even with modern materials,¡± he keeps wondering, appreciating it. ¡°The car is alright, right?¡± he adds while handing me the hammer. ¡°Of course. Here in the inventory. Do you want me to¡­¡± I ask submissively. ¡°No, no, no...¡± He gesticulates, stopping me as I was about to pick it up right now and right here, in the middle of a cave. ¡°There will be time. Just keep it safe,¡± he adds. I simply nod as he turns in place, checking the cave one last time.
Squeezing myself out, I walk tediously, like I was almost learning how to do it. My legs are probably still strained from the fall, but still, I think that I might be in the most normal physical state I have been in since here¡ªif I count out two missing toes on my feet, of course. No painkiller acid on me¡ªyet, no stretched skin or any special side effect, the stomach ache has finally settled, and I¡¯m both excited yet afraid to try to withdraw from the well of power.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. At least I think it works like that and it exists after all. The old man joins the couple outside. Astrid is chilling, leaning over the nearby tree, and Mike keeps spinning both sabres around the bushes. His left hand apparently does not keep up with his right, and balancing them well seems to be his goal. Despite his moves looking clunky and his lack of proper fencing skills, he does pretty well for a complete amateur. I bet there must be someone else beside the lecherous knight, who is currently a human jerky, who knows and might teach us a thing or two. I notice he is not wearing the headscarf or an eyepatch anymore. It may sound easy just to keep your eye closed, but I don¡¯t think it is that simple. He must be confident enough that he will not open it accidentally and have a seizure afterward. His black, straight, thick hair, almost long enough to cover the side of his face, will after all make him look badass. ¡°Morning,¡± Astrid greets me, and Mike ignores me, grunting and blowing the air while spinning around training. ¡°Hey.¡± I wave at her awkwardly, straightening my back and broadening my shoulders. My arm is once again raised with confidence as, besides missing my sleeves on my turquoise shirt, I¡¯m no longer ashamed of my disgusting stretch marks filled with dried blood. The poor girl is well aware of the stumps, and I bet she wants to do the reset deep down, as she is the only one without that experience. I wonder if I should tell her or Harald about the secret area, as now the most concerning thing is what the ghostly cat said.
After an initial plan, we decided that we should return to the area where I died while trying to lift a car.
Arriving at the area, I can already see from the distance a quite unpleasant thing. ¡°You might need this.¡± The old man hands me the shovel boldly without flinching an eye. Seriously? I clench my jaw after being in mild shock. He did this already thrice, as his body never got pulverized like Mike¡¯s or crushed into a pile of bones like mine before. ¡°Phew.¡± At least my eyes are closed; I would be horrified for weeks. Overall, it¡¯s an indescribable feeling seeing your own corpse in front of you. I look for the spot I assume is easiest to dig and hit the ground.
Time has passed, sweat drips from my forehead, and an internal fight of joy and uneasiness lasts in my head. In the first place, I enjoy some manual labor while thinking of what the cat said¡ªif there are three wells of power and two are used, that means there is somewhere someone either confused like me or walking here like a god among us. But on the other hand, it¡¯s unpleasant to dig your own shallow grave. The couple chills a bit away from me, and the old man scouts the area, probably searching for green berries.
¡°Done?¡± The old man joins me, slipping something into his chest pocket with velcro. *Panting* ¡°Done.¡± The grave is shallow, and I¡¯m glad nothing is sticking out. When nobody was paying attention, I removed the sweatpants, socks, and sneakers from the corpse, exchanged them with a bulletproof vest in the inventory slot, and put it on. As the old man looks at me, he notices I keep staring at the peak sticking from the ground further away, the one Mike tripped on. ¡°What caught your attention this time?¡± Harald asks loudly. "Ssh!" I hush him, adding a hand gesture for emphasis. Quickly relocating myself closer, I sit on the ground and tear at the dried grass twisted around it. A few dozen seconds pass. *Thud-Thud* I open my eyes wide. ¡°We have a buried snail,¡± I whisper.
Mike stands up right away, picks his legless girlfriend, and they relocate closer. ¡°Hey, but this one¡¯s a little bit bigger,¡± Astrid remarks from Mike¡¯s embrace. ¡°I hear a heartbeat.¡± Sitting there in front of it, I look upon them. ¡°What do we do with it? Kill for exp?¡± I suggest. ¡°Markus, only you can smash it wide open,¡± Astrid points out. ¡°Or Harald can shoot it off. Also, if it wasn¡¯t for Mike, I would have never found it.¡± I look at him while standing up. ¡°You mean as he stumbled and almost broke the bottles?¡± Astrid picks on him. ¡°Yeah,¡± I answer her without a look, focusing only on the beating shell. Unsheathing my hammer, I prepare for the strike. ¡°Ready your weapon. I¡¯ll crack the shell for you.¡± The tall, slim man looks surprised and prepares his sabres. *Bang* The tip, the size of a golf ball, barely shatters. ¡°Make more room,¡± Harald gestures to Mike and Astrid. ¡°This will take some time,¡± he suggests. ¡°Aaargh!¡± *Bang* I scream and smash it on the same spot, and another part cracks off.
Repeating this about five times, and slightly using Focus, I can feel the thing beginning to shatter. ¡°Next hit will be the final one. I feel it.¡± I tell the group and release some percentage of my Focus power manually, hoping somehow the well of power will get activated too. *Bang* followed with a *crack* Mucous fluid starts to pour out like from a tiny volcano, together with the unpleasant sound. ¡°Jeez.¡± I step aside quickly and leave the room for Mike and his sabre. *Squelching stab* ¡°Enjoy your ding,¡± I tell him and move away from it, scanning the area for more anomalies like this one. ¡°Mark!?¡± Did Harald, Astrid, and Mike all just say my name at once? I stop right away. ¡°The health bar appeared,¡± Mike mentions with a shaky voice. ¡°And?¡± I ask impartially.
As I turn, my eyes widen, and my mouth falls open. Chapter 81 - Nautilus
With my mouth open, I stare at the bright red pillar a few steps away from me. The thing is even twice taller than me, and since we all at least partially know how things work here, I know that whatever the monster is there, it is tilted ninety degrees¡ªlying on its side, possibly underground. I tilt my head to the side to read the letters. The health bar is shining bright red with the word ¡°level 83¡± on top. My god! That''s above myself yet even slightly above the statue that killed me. A confusing mixed thought flashes. If I manage to do this, then I can finally try to bonk the Old Traveler. ¡°What the heck?!¡± I look at Harald and then look at Mike. The old man is shaking his head in disbelief, with his mouth open, Mike seems sharp and ready despite the overwhelming size and level. I take a glimpse at Astrid, our eyes meet, and my sight goes back at the old man. He peeks at Astrid and checks whether it is safe to pick her up and relocate. With my level, I¡¯m not confident enough for whatever the thing we accidentally awaken. Well, I. I imagine what kind of underground slug this could be, if this is simply the overgrown variant of the snail we fought or something entirely different. ¡°Eighty-three?¡± Mike spits angrily. He gets more anxious while pulling out the sabre from the mucus that spurts out of the mini volcano. ¡°Come on!¡± He moves it around chaotically, panting, trying to pull it out of the gluey substance. A quick thought out of curiosity flashes through my mind. What would happen if I poured the acid into it? I wonder, but then think of how dependent we are on it and Harald is the only one with a jug left. Better to save it up for ourselves than use it on foes. The health bar is standing there still, not moving at all. Harald walks in circles, stays close to Astrid, and examines the area. I decide to help Mike with his sword, despite the fact that he would rather make it on his own. He is still wobbling and struggling to pull it out. It¡¯s time to use my Focus again, of course on automatic. I look him in the eye and touch the handle of his sabre. Kinda feel bad for him. My shiny hammer with a bio handle fused together and enchanted, yet his sabre is almost completely broken, chipped, and weathered, one even in a bit worse condition than the other. As exponentially my strength grows, I see how my fingers and forearm expand. *Flick* I pull the sabre out with ease, and a wave of mucus starts to flow out of the tiny volcano, producing a squelching sound. ¡°Boys!¡± We both immediately turn to Astrid. She is glaring at the health bar, so I quickly take a look. A really tiny bit of it got drained. We both look at each other and frown while thinking. ¡°Seek the lumps, break the hardshells open, and you do the stab?¡± I propose my idea. This could be an easy task and a great XP grab, well at least for one of us. From the expression, I can tell he is more than in. Maybe that he stumbled upon it will indeed be his reward after all. ¡°Harald, help us search for a possible opening like this one.¡± I ask the old man for help while he carries the girl away. *Ominous hissing sound* If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Looking right back at the tiny volcano of mucus and blood, a lot of steam is coming out of it. Strange. *Thud-Thud* Followed by another hard stream of steam, forming a cloud above it. *Thud-Thud Thud-Thud-Thud Thud-Thud-Thud-Thud-Thud* The heartbeats could be heard from all the directions around us. We all stop right away and group, confused, with our backs facing together. Harald holds Astrid in his arms, his sharp eyes scanning the area, and so do Astrid¡¯s. Mike, on the other hand, seems to be exhausted. He barely stands, holding his rusty weapon covered in gluey mucus, which took out what is left of its sharpness. It can be clearly told who are the acid users among us¡ªhumans at their peak performance, focused and relieved of any possible pain. I''m on the other hand rejuvenated and possibly at peak health after being reborn.
Turning around, locating the sources of heartbeats we look for any lumps. ¡°What could it be after all?¡± The old man proposes loudly. ¡°A lot of small buried snails? Or a large one?¡± He continues to scream out. ¡°Collective health indicator?¡± I hint, but probably nobody hears me due to the annoying beating. The forest is dense and damp, and a lot of trees are close to each other. This must be definitely a group of underground snails somehow connected. There is no way one could be this large, as the beating resonates in a radius too big. I confidently guess what is awaiting.
We start to spread our positions, moving outwards from the snail Mike stumbled upon and then stabbed. Mike is at the end where the health bar is poking out of the ground. I¡¯m confused where the other snails might be and I''m starting to rage, my body reacts to this automatically by enlarging my fists. That thudding is so fucking annoying! I clench my teeth. Since all the hearts of multiple snails start to beat completely unrelated to each other, it makes a messy loud sound, like a terrible drummer using a triple kick drum. I grasp onto my hammer handle and decide to join the beating with one even louder. *Bang* *Bang* *Bang* *Bang* *Bang* Raising my hammer above my head, I start to scream and smash the ground under my feet with all the power that is automatically transitioned from my core. Now I finally know how my grandpa felt when that bunch of teenagers started a house party above his apartment. This uncontrollable noise makes me burst! My hammer head smashes the ground with a huge chunk of power that buries it a few inches into the hard surface under the soil and grass. The heartbeats didn¡¯t stop for a second, but there is an answer to my call! The whole area starts to shake and rumble. Yes! While grinning, I grasp onto my hammer tightly even more. Pumping from the reservoir, I prepare for another hard smash. But this one is unfortunate. I feel like I¡¯m losing my balance. Harald starts to run first, opposite the location of the health bar, struggling hard not to drop the girl and harm her. Mike grabs onto one of the trees, and I decide to stay where I am and load up my jump, preparing to spring out if needed. The ground starts to shatter on the opposite side of where the pillar-like health bar is poking out. Trenches start to appear on the possible fringe of a creature. As the soil and dirt are blown off, the true nature of our enemy appears. It is indeed a single being with multiple hearts. Ginormous snail shell with multiple apexes, probably each containing a beating heart. A muscular leg starts to crawl out from the trench, grasping tightly and starting to lift the behemoth. The whole area we are standing on starts to tilt. The size of a parking lot starts to rise by the muscular leg that is tightly sucked onto the ground. Lucky Harald took the right path, and he jumped over the forming trench while holding the girl. They are backing up into the woods for safety. Mike has his arm around the twigs, holding tightly. It¡¯s too late to run now for both of us. I don¡¯t even hold and decide to jump when I can¡¯t stand still anymore so I grab the tuft of grass and look around for where to land. Unfortunately, I¡¯m at the upper part of the creature with Mike. Now, slowly rising up, we are at the height almost close to the tree canopies. Falling from this height will be fatal. The hearts of the beast are beating fast, producing so much noise it is impossible to communicate. Focusing on the distance, while being pumped with adrenaline, I decide to jump into the treetops. As much as I want to look around at what the hell the creature we are grabbing onto is, I don¡¯t dare. The tuft is starting to loosen, and it is already late. I will be lucky to repel myself away from this tilted surface. A little bit of muscle mass to pump charge and... *Jump* I¡¯m looking for possible grab-on points while mid-air, flying toward the canopy of the nearby beech tree. ¡°Fuck! Aargh!¡± I groan and struggle to grab onto anything as I hit the branches. They are slapping and scratching my face. I¡¯m genuinely afraid of losing my eye in the process. My head is spinning while I find myself hanging by my left arm a few meters lower than my expected landing point. Finally, I settle and look at the surroundings. My arm is pumped, holding all my not-so-slim figure. I grasp confidently and strong, trying to pull myself up. Turning my face toward the enemy, I see the remaining letters: Nautilus, Level 83 ¡°So it is the boss.¡± I¡¯m not sure if I¡¯m more excited or afraid, but the noise is making me so angry I want it to die as fast as possible. Looking down at Mike, I see him holding confidently and trying to climb up from the side of the shell to the top. His skinny body is easy to maneuver around, grabbing only tufts.
Sudden movement catches my sight. A snake-like neck extends from underneath the massive shell, the size of a three-story building. Mike¡¯s mouth is wide open, screaming from the top of his lungs as it slurps him whole. Chapter 82 - The Belly of the Beast ¡°What the hell?!" "Fuck!¡± I scream at the top of my lungs as I witness his body disappearing into the gruesome, slippery neck. Waving in the wind, hanging from the sturdy branch with only my left hand, my forearm pumped automatically. Focus was in full use, but the well of power was nowhere in sight. Nobody hears me anyway. ¡°This is not a fucking snail!¡± It¡¯s a gray snake, covered in mucus, with a massive shell and multiple beating hearts.
Hanging by my arm, I try to comprehend what just happened. It slurped him so fast I couldn¡¯t even tell if he was bitten in half or simply slid inside. The true horror begins as the creature starts moving again. Its snake-like neck shifts to a horizontal position, extending from the part of the shell where Mike was hanging. Surprisingly, the neck does not retract into the shell; instead, the thing decides to scan the area. My eyes widen as the gigantic, round head moves slowly, inspecting its surroundings. How the heck can it even sense? I wonder, slightly haunted by its presence as I stare at it, looking for any openings as its mouth completely disappears once closed. The texture of its skin resembles that of a regular snail¡ªslightly leathery, but gray in color, and, of course, shiny, coated with a thin layer of mucus. With its mouth closed, I can¡¯t even tell where it was anymore, also no nostrils, no nothing. Just two dark spots on the sides under the skin, which I assume are its eyes, or maybe even the nostrils. No eyestalks like a classic snail¡ªmore like a snail-snake hybrid. The shell covered in moss, soil and small bushes is rough and rusty coloured. The head, as wide as a large dining table, slowly approaches the trees where I¡¯m hanging. Luckily, it scans the area below me.
As it continues to swipe underneath me and away from me, I notice some unnerving movement on the side of its neck. Something is shifting inside. A quick peek at the top of its pulsating shell reveals that its health bar is slightly depleted. ¡°What the heck?" "That''s Mike''s work?¡± I wonder, focusing on the health bar to see if I¡¯m imagining things or if it¡¯s really chipping away. Hanging by my arm, I feel the power radiating from my core. The longer I hang, the bigger my arm becomes as the bulletproof vest in one hand and hammer in the other are an extra weight I don''t need right now. ¡°What a time to learn new things!¡± It seems the muscle mass doesn¡¯t retract automatically once depleted; instead, a new wave replaces it each time. Of course with a tax of extreme energy and stamina drain. I don''t know for how long I could hold on but the best thing I can do is to hide my hammer in my inventory, so I do right away. After a few seconds of watching the health bar stay still, I accept that it was just an illusion. The long, snake-like head twitches, interrupting its scanning and retracting back. "Good." I should drop onto some other branch and sit or I''m gonna fall asleep or faint right on the place.
Meanwhile, a weird-looking lump appears under its skin, just below the joint where I think the head and neck connect. A sudden, quick movement above catches my attention again. It is chipping away!If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. "Mike!¡± I yell and look below into the trench after the gigantic snail and hope that I won''t see Astrids and Haralds corpses. Looking back at the lump my eyes widen. Oh my god. The lump starts to bloat like a giant pimple and at that moment, the snako-snail begins to wobble, thrash, and turn violently. *The pimple pops* A shiny, pointy needle bursts through the skin and starts tearing it apart. Following the weathered sabre, Mike emerges from the pimple as if being born, covered in mucus and blood. I see him struggling to catch his breath. The snail wobbles, yet I expect Mike to slide out the same way he slid in¡ªeasily. And of course deal massive damage to the snake despite his lower level and weapons in bad condition. The thick neck, however, holds him tightly, stuck there, he barely hangs on as if something was pulling him back in. All I can do is hang there and watch the situation. Yelling to aggro the beast towards me and trying my luck would be pointless because of the noise. A quick glance at my hanging arm reveals the damage. My skin is overly stretched again, and I need to calm my left side down. Checking the branches below me, I decide to drop to a lower one. *Release* As I fall, my eyes lock onto the branch I¡¯ve chosen to grab. I stare at it as it zooms toward me, crooked but thick enough to hold my weight, I reach for it with my right hand now. *Tight grasp* My hand wraps quickly around the branch, scratching my skin on its coarse bark. I feel tension in my shoulder as it absorbs the impact. Gosh, this is painful as hell. There is no way I''m not gonna hop on the flatheads acid train again after all this. If I could somehow use the well of power, it did something back there when I went over the limit, but why nothing happens now? I simply thought of it and a shiny bright light blinded me for a mere second and I jumped high! "Come on! Well of power! Now!" I grab the branch with my left hand too and look up at the sky. "I need to. Pull myself. Up!" Clenching my teeth I barely speak for myself.
I start to feel the warmth in my stomach as if the power was manifesting. But the climax is right over as I notice in my peripheral vision that the massive snake sniffed on me and its head is speeding towards me. Its huge head, capable of swallowing me whole just as it did Mike, starts sliding out of the shell even more and approaches me quickly. ¡°Oh dear lord!¡± I clench my teeth and close my eyes, accepting my fate. I will get swallowed in a moment. Squinting my eyes, my heart pounds wildly. I wait for the first contact. *Nothing happens* I partially open my right eye and check the situation. Shock, disgust, and fear overwhelm me. The thing¡ªthe monster, Nautilus¡ªis staring at me from close proximity. It no longer moves frantically. I shift my gaze to the right and check on the slit where Mike was hanging from. Finally, even through the rumbling, I can hear his agony. His arms and face are scarred, as if attacked by some sort of acid or overexposed to the mucus. His sabre remains pinned in the creature¡¯s skin as he grips it tightly. He looks me in the eye, exhausted, and tries once more to pull himself out, pushing with his arms and burying the sabre deeper. Nautilus notices and nonchalantly twitches to the right, gulping.
Mike is pulled inside instantly. His right arm disappears with his torso and head, only his left hand clings to the sabre. Blood pours from his hand, mixing with the mucus outside. His hand slips from the handle, sliding over the dull, dented blade and ripping flesh from his palm. His hand shakes yet he still holds on, without the aid of any painkillers. The creature returns to its position and observes me, staring intently. ¡°What¡¯s it waiting for?¡± I ask myself. Mike interrupts, somehow, he still manages to pull himself out. But this time, he looks even more broken, I can see death approaching in his eyes. *Blurp* He looks at me and vomits a massive amount of green and yellow substance, followed by chunks of flesh and what I assume are intestines. Life leaves his eyes at that moment. The sight shocks and scares me, but anger wins out and completely overtakes my fear. A new plan forms in my mind. "Inventory!" I let my right arm go and grab the hammer tight. *Swoosh* I swing my hammer in front of me, setting my entire body into motion. Nautilus, surprisingly, does not react and I¡¯m more than confident in what I¡¯m doing. As my hammer approaches it, the creature¡¯s lightning-fast movement dodges the blow at the last moment. ¡°Good!¡± My hammer swings down, setting me into a spring-like motion towards the thing. The massive creature finally acts as I wanted, charging at me with a sudden movement that instantly reminds me of what I saw earlier. *Slurp* My fate is the same as Mike¡¯s. But his fate wasn¡¯t planned just like mine. Prepare to die! Chapter 83 - It’s Hummer Time Raising up my hammer quickly, while at least some light is visible, it disappears right into my inventory at my will. Don''t worry, fucker, since I know Mike is dead, I don''t need to play it carefully anymore. After the slurp I''ve entered the mouth of the hybrid beast as easily as I expected to, sliding in with the mucus. Darkness and claustrophobia are all I can experience inside and of course horrendous smell. Obviously, I did not think this through enough. How can I operate my delicate inventory when I can¡¯t see? I shake my head as the crazy plan that sparked while I was hanging on the branch, crumbles because of visibility conditions. My eyes must be closed because of possible acid or mucus damage and I''ve seen enough damage and what it did to Mike¡ªsecretly hoping I won''t encounter Mike''s melting corpse somewhere there.
My position feels still, but I can tell I¡¯m slipping in as the creature starts to gulp again or it is simply moving around its whole head. Quickly switching to a T-pose here, I bury my fingers into the flesh of the creature, believing this could save me from sliding through the neck into its shell. It could be a fun ride, though, but I don¡¯t want to see what else it has in its belly, besides a lot of aggressive saliva or whatever it that makes Mike vomit blood and flesh. With my mouth tightly shut, barely breathing in, I feel like I¡¯m inside a moving train as I think that the neck retracts back into the shell. Through my closed eyes, I catch a glimpse of light. A quick peek reveals to me that the hole Mike made is letting out enough light to illuminate the chamber I am in. ¡°Motherfucker!¡± Now I know why Mike was pulled in two times with a single gulp. Massive teeth, layered all around, line the inside of the neck a few inches from my feet. What a tough fucker he was... Well, is. Now probably even sprinting back here. Gazing at the abomination, I bet his legs must''ve been heavily damaged if not completely chewed off, and he still managed to rip it open and climb out. At least I can finally inhale as the hole he cut flaps around, letting in some light and air. But now I need to focus on my situation, and I need to use my hand in a delicate way, to avoid losing some items in this thing. To free my hand up, I react quickly. While my head spins from the chaotic movement, I activate my Focus. *Whoosh* I grunt as my fingers bury inside the fleshy walls and I whip myself up with a kick. Maneuver to lock my right foot into the hole from which the light shines in. It flickers as the creature moves around and I feel a bit more safer, at least away from the munching teeth spiral.
Hanging by the leg, I open my inventory.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. The bronze plate stays still and follows me rather steadily as I wobble there hanging, my leg folded tight. Creature tries to gulp and shake me off, springing its head up and down, and that opportunity to time it correctly. Squinting, my eyes barely opened, I look at the plate, barely able to distinguish which items are which. Pinching my fingers together, I hover over the items and chuckle a bit as I hang there, ¡°If this works, I can indeed say I did the job using the hammer¡ªwell, Hummer.¡± I awkwardly chuckle at my own edgy pun while precisely planning my pull. ¡°Ah, fuck!¡± A semi transparent plastic jug materializes in my palm, falls instantly, and bumps against the inside walls of the mucus-covered neck. It clinks a few times over the teeth and continues being swallowed into the depths of the monster. Did I just lose my water! Aargh! I steady myself again and pull out Harald¡¯s car.
From the size of a toy car, it materializes in front of me, pushing me away from it, toward the mouth opening. All I can see is the shiny yellow metal plate pressing against my face, it seems that I unintentionally clean the dusty, muddy car door with my clothes, face, and hair. But this is the last thing that should concern me. A lot of stuff flashes lightning-fast through my mind now. What if I get pierced or mauled by it afterwards? Or simply fall from the height. But it¡¯s too late to even consider. Luckily for me, the car is positioned upright by its length in the width of the monster''s neck. If there is a perfect spot for it to tear the creature''s head open, this is it. I comfort myself. I did the best I could.
*Blast* A lot of chaos surrounds me, and I find myself spinning and falling down. Another quick thought of breaking my neck if I land unluckily flashes through my mind, so I try to position myself properly and protect my head with my arms. With a loud thud, I smash into the ground, landing right in the trenches from which the beast originally emerged. After my fat body thuds into the mud, I hear another strong bang that''s louder than the creature¡¯s heartbeats all combined together. *Bang* *Glass shattering* The car falls down and rolls on its side, and I clearly hear the glass breaking. Okay. Calm down. Harald won¡¯t kill you. You did what you had to do. Adrenaline numbing all the pain from the fall, I quickly roll around and away from the boss, deciding to assess the damage. Not surprisingly, I am interrupted by the massive snake suddenly twitching, I see it in my peripheral vision. *Loud rumbling* follows a massive shell falling on its side, almost back into OG position. Quickly launching myself back on my feet, I assign a random amount of power to my calves and jump away just before the impact. *Fwoosh* Flying a few meters away, I don¡¯t plan any elegant landing at all. *Thud* Smashing into the mud and bushes again, I notice a wild berry bush with a lot of thorns around me, many of them are buried in my skin. The pain has no time to take over as the adrenaline muffles it all. A lot of bad stuff could¡¯ve happened trying this maneuver with the Hummer, but it seems to have worked out after all. My body is almost undamaged, aside from the wild berry vines attached to me with thorns. The Lady luck was again standing by my side, and I made it without any serious fractures or injuries, at least I think. This is definitely the dumbest and cleverest idea I¡¯ve ever come up with.
The thrashing blown up head and neck smacks the ground in front of me, but luckily I was yanked too far away from its reach. My sight quickly focuses on the shell to check the HP. "The hell?" The Nautilus with half of its name and health bar underground again, depleted about a half. Nothing better comes to mind than smashing the shell¡¯s apexes and destroying the remaining hearts. Looking around, I am worried about the party. Nobody is in sight. Mike is probably running back there, but did Harald and Astrid make it? I can¡¯t hear them due to the noisy heartbeats. Maybe it¡¯s time to finally quiet this place down.
With zero hesitation, I open my inventory. My hammer sitting comfortably in my bloody arms, and I run for the small peaks, starting with the one closest to me. With a quick count, I see an extra five of them clearly, as they were uncovered when the Nautilus stood up. My most important goal is to finish off the boss itself, then look for the group. *Bang* My hammer bounces back up from the first peak, cracking it like an egg afterward. I use a lot of power for the first hit, as it should be the hardest part. Gripping the flexible sledgehammer with both hands, I smash the rest of the cracked shell to pieces. A small mucus avalanche starts to flow out, collecting forest debris with it. Remembering Mike¡¯s mistake while wielding his sabre, I decide to pre-crack all the shells before striking. *Bang* *Crack* *Smash* *Bang* *Crack* My hammer bounces as I dance in between the peaks, cracking them. The snail lives, but without its head, the neck simply twitches occasionally, raising up, retracting in, and slightly out. The dying beast has not much health left and I believe I can finish it off by emptying my magazine into its hearts. Before opening my inventory to reach for the glock, I''m interrupted.
¡°Oh, fuck off!¡± I yell at the massive blown up head of a snake, while its neck raises up again. With an irritated face, I notice how different this is now. ¡°Wait, what the...¡± Chapter 84 - Wearables The headless snake raises up, and a huge balloon starts to move from the orifice on the shell, from which the muscular neck sticks out. I watch this with both amazement and disgust. Backing away, I calculate where it could land if it will, to avoid it. Is this thing charging for a shot? I wonder, while the ball moves through the neck steadily, like a clog in a clogged pipe. *Gurgling* followed by disgusting sounds of mucus. First, the mucus starts to spurt, then is followed by the orange juices. Disgusting as it is, I wait patiently for what it will reveal. Standing in a straddle to avoid losing my balance when it''s time to head out, I support myself with the sledgehammer. I am aware that fluid like that must¡¯ve produced some sort of smell, but when I was inside, it was almost odorless. Now, it smells like a ton of rotting corpses all at once and I almost barf. *Blurp* The sound could be me from the stench, but it¡¯s the headless snake. Spilling juices hit the ground, and a few droplets even hit me, I quickly cover my face. Whatever these are, I¡¯m not risking getting melted alive¡ªor whatever else could happen. Rotten perfume is also not on the list of things I would like to have on my shirt. A ball of meat and flesh is ejected from the neck, followed by a river of mucus and blood. ¡°Oh god!¡± I gulp and almost vomit. Again. The river of fluids fills the area and is heading towards Harald¡¯s hummer. ¡°No! No. No. No. You stay there!¡± I start running towards the car. If this shit hits the hummer from the side, soaking into the doors and all over the upholstery, we will never get rid of the smell. Based on how he likes that car, Harald would kill me. While planning how to get near it fast and turn it back on its wheels, something catches my eye in a second. Something flashy is floating on top of the mucus river. The forbidden river pours all over and starts to soak into the crevices and the disturbed soil. Lucky for me it almost completely avoids the car.
*Rumbling* ended by the *Thud* After the stream of vomit finishes and the ball of flesh is casually resting there on the ground, the neck smashes down and falls to the side. I assume this to be the final twitch. Now it''s my turn to flip the car and continue the attack, but before that, my eyes lock on the shiny target. A green emerald-shaped thing is floating on the top layer of the fluid. Its color is more turquoise, unlike a single thing around here. Maybe it is a pebble? I wonder for a second. The behemoth snail-snake twitches again, to my favor. Its massive snail leg creates room underneath, where the rest of vomit fluid finds its way, saving my sneakers and feet from wading through a shallow layer of muck. ¡°Phew.¡±Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. One thing can be crossed off my to-do list now. I can simply wait it out and finish the abomination when it''s all soaked in but the shiny emerald gets me in a hurry. The emerald is not floating peacefully on top but speeding with the stream. Theoretically, I could do a few large steps quickly and reach for it, but the idea of my sneakers getting soaked with this is not allowing me to do it. I look around for anything I could stick over my sneakers for protection, but this environment has zero plastic pollution. I can¡¯t simply take some rotting plastic bag and do the trick. The emerald green shard is speeding up and heading towards the crevice beneath the gigantic shell. ¡°Ah well, fuck that.¡± I crouch, roll up my pants as high as possible, and charge for the jump. Releasing a random small amount of Focus power to my hams and ass, I execute quite a fine jump. *Fwoosh* Flying through the air, I¡¯m glad I calculated the jump correctly, I should land exactly where the shard will be. *Squelch* I land feet-deep into the substance. For a quick check and assurance, I pull up my foot and check for any burn damage. It does not seem to be volatile like the acid that dissolves flesh in mere seconds, I keep my eye on the beautiful jewel the entire time. ¡°Here, here! Come to me!¡± I say almost like Gollum. But I¡¯m not even surprised why. The moment I landed and opened my eyes wider, I saw what a treasure this is. A beautiful emerald pendant hemmed with black metal, with a ripped leather string hanging from the circular opening on top. It shines beautifully as the sun reflects off its surface. My hand grabs it eagerly, yet carefully. Only two of my fingers get a drip. Eager to try it on, I tackle the need and hide it in my inventory. Looking around, I consider the best approach now¡ªto charge my jump again and get back on the dry surface, up on the shell to continue attacking the boss, or wait until the liquid flows by me. As I don¡¯t move, I believe it won¡¯t get in between my toes too thoroughly. But by waiting it out, the chance of Harald and Astrid arriving increases, and maybe Mike too. The boss is rightfully mine anyway¡ªand the experience. I excuse my already-chosen decision. The river of odiousness will finally settle and pass by in a few dozen seconds, by my humble estimation. I know what I want the most now. Like a magpie charmed by a vivid treasure, I¡¯m tying the knot on the leather string attached to the pendant. My eyes are wide open as I believe that this might be an enchanted item, from the belly of the beast. *Amulet fits perfectly around my neck* I feel the energy burst from the bottom of my feet rising to the top of my dome, my hair is blown upwards, like a stream of compressed air released from beneath my feet. I feel the stiffness all around my body. Enormous itching. Both of my hands are in claw positions, scratching myself all over¡ªmostly my arms, shoulders, and forearms. Exactly where most of my damage was taken from releasing and using my power. I scratch them over and over in a chaotic manner, but it¡¯s not irritating my skin. Instead, it¡¯s scraping off the mud and dirt that dried on me. As the dirt is scraped off, the skin underneath is revealed to me. It¡¯s not devastated despite it being overstretched a few moments ago. A lot of scar tissue, but no more nasty-looking stretch marks that seemed ready to rip open at any moment. Checking my status, a Grinch-like smirk slowly spreads across my face.
Markus Rain foreigner level 64
Strength 60 Focus [Bonus Skill]
Agility 3 no skill
Willpower 4 no skill
Endurance 20 no skill
The level is unchanged, but my endurance is up by a whopping ten. Nothing can undo my day today! Is this twice the OG endurance or simply +10? Gotta find out soon! I think to myself with bared teeth, but the law of unintended consequences steps into action. My sight is caught by an unpleasant surprise. The flesh ball that creature vomited is staring at me. Staring at me with both eyes wide open. One is a tiny monkey eye, and the other is a normal one. It¡¯s Mike. Despite the fact that he¡¯s dead and this is simply a corpse, this stare will stay with me for some time. Why can¡¯t I enjoy a nice moment for once? I sigh and start moving toward the next heart.
I don¡¯t know who is more thirsty¡ªmyself or my hammer. Somehow I feel like I¡¯m starting to create a bond with my hammer. Since the handle was changed to something that was alive, I find myself wondering what the hammer might be thinking. This is not so far from the discussions¡ªwell, more likely it would be a monologue. Raising my arms up, pumping my power, I observe my skin. Power is released manually, and I control the flow with my mind and body. I can use definitely more than before! Which means the endurance buff works and the hammerhead is even heavier! The following process is more or less straightforward: Smashing the shell to the ground and shooting with the glock. *Smash* *Bang* One done, five more to go.
I repeat this process four more times, and it¡¯s finally quiet down there. Only the last heart awaits.
"Boy!" "What the fuck!" Chapter 85 - Thick Skin I hear the loud voice of an old man from a distance. ¡°Ah crap, I should¡¯ve turned the car at least back on the wheels,¡± I mumble under my breath. Or, wait. Is he referring to his precious car being almost upside down, with a bonus of smashed side windows and a rear mirror? Or my execution of the boss? Standing still, I turn my sight towards him. There he stands, holding Astrid in his arms, covering her eyes with his palm. He stares at the flesh ball with Mike¡¯s face. Okay, now I know what his concern is, nothing personal. Good. ¡°Can you somehow cover that?¡± he asks me loudly. ¡°Of course, but first let me finish the boss,¡± I yell back to him while the last heart keeps rhythmically thudding. The rest of the body is barely twitching. *Unsheathing blade satisfyingly rings over the rivets on his holster* "Catch!" He throws his massive black combat dagger with a rigged top. "Ugh. Phew." I barely catch it, avoiding cutting myself. "Don''t waste your bullets, boy!" He adds with a nod. ¡°What to cover? Harald, stop it,¡± Astrid moves around, trying to free herself from his arms. He turns around with her and waits. "Ssshh."
I grab the knife tightly with the palm of my hand, glancing for a brief moment all around it, admiring its sturdiness and beauty of craftsmanship. Standing there almost ceremonially, I raise it above my head while cracking a wide smile, teeth braced, holding the massive knife with both hands. *Tschk* A black combat knife with a rigged top enters swiftly through the layer of mucus and buries deep into the beige muscle. Crimson blood spurts alongside the blade, mixing with the mucus, quite unpleasant, as the strands move with the flow, paired with the never-ending stench of rot and intestinal acids all around. Nightmarish and disgusting stuff that should make people vomit in an instant are now on my daily basis. Every day I''m more desensitized, and it''s a good thing. The last beat is the last time blood is pumped from the wound upwards, around the old man''s combat dagger. I prepare for the last dying twitch or kick, standing with my legs apart and holding the dagger still inside. *Nothing happens* *Tschk* I pull it up with a slight turn, and gluey mucus is pulled up just like cheese from a well-done pizza. Speaking of pizza, I get sad immediately, imagining I won''t get my hands on food like that anytime soon. *Di, di, din, din, ding* That''s what I was waiting and hoping for. How many were there? Four or five? I slash the dagger as fast as I can to shake off the liquids, like a samurai. It doesn''t work, of course, and I have to awkwardly stomp on the blade and clean it over the mossy surface with the help of my footwear.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Oh my, what a treat. Was it five? Five means 25. Twenty-five means possibly a new ability? I guess. Depends if Mike was lying or not. "Skills!" "All to endurance." A satisfying drumroll I heard only once before is played behind my head again. I shake my head, a bit disoriented in panic as it somehow reminds me of that annoying spatial video where someone knocks on the door. It still freaks me out after all this time when I hear it somewhere by accident. My body stiffens for a moment, my posture straightens, and I take a deep breath, feeling slightly more fit and rejuvenated.
Markus Rain foreigner level 69
Strength 60 Focus [Bonus Skill]
Agility 3 no skill
Willpower 4 no skill
Endurance 30 [Partial Harden] ¨‹
Holy smokes! So it was ten? No way it dinged that much! "Ding, ding, ding, ding..." I whisper to myself counting. I''ve managed to get to fifty straight away, maybe there was something in between. I speculate in my head, while still cleaning the blade over the grass remains.
Rolling out this creepy Mike''s face before the act I decide to save the joy for later. Walking confidently towards the flesh ball I''m interrupted by the swift movement. Mike is already near it, all sweaty, heavy breathing and tries to push it. ¡°Hey¡­ You alright, man?¡± ¡°I have something for you,¡± I bomb him at first sight. He groans as he struggles to roll the ball. ¡°Let me help.¡± I continue talking to him. With the feeling of guilt that he might be mad at me for the whole situation. I quickly grab two fistfuls of moss and dirt and push against the horrendous sphere. It rolls just a few degrees, and his face mask is now on the bottom, facing the ground. He sighs. ¡°Here, this is the treasure that came from the boss. This boosts endurance by ten points,¡± I explain to him how green the number is and how it makes my skin thicker. ¡°And from this fucker, I''ve gained five levels, sorry we couldn''t share, at least accept this.¡± I offer him the necklace, while an old man carrying Astrid approaches, secretly wanting Mike to refuse. "Ugh." Immediately as I take the necklace off, I feel more brittle and vulnerable. My skin stretch marks are slowly filling with blood and expanding. Despite all this, I hand him the amulet, as genuine as I try to look, he notices in my eyes that it''s hard for me to do. ¡°No, no, no. Keep it. You need it more than I do.¡± He gestures to me to put it back on with a quite frightened stare. His refusal sparks joy, yet I''m a bit confused as he seemed a bit afraid when I mentioned the amulet, but then he acts suddenly confident and chivalrous. Suspicious, but I can''t wait to accept. ¡°Thank you,¡± that''s all that I say. He starts to walk towards Harald and his legless girlfriend. "Stats." I whisper again, my eyes wide opened as I see no dropdown menu and number 15 instead of 30. So doubling it is?!
The amulet is again over my neck, and I watch my body react. The effect is the same; wounds are closing, and skin thickens. As they start to talk and explain everything to each other, I take advantage of the little time I have and eagerly decide to check for the rewards. Sitting on the turf I open my stats menu. By hovering my finger over the Endurance skill field a dropdown appears. Apparently I can choose my second skill, which will be tied to my Endurance, yet it might be disabled if I take off the amulet? I wonder. New secrets everyday.
Partial Harden Harden part of the skin for a limited time.
Regen Faster healing of non-fatal human wounds
¡°Are you kidding me! Such a hard choice.¡± I mutter under my breath after speed reading the content. Guess I can¡¯t save it for later. Well, I can, but don''t want to. A quick peek at the crew to see if I have more time to calculate and compare. They are happily talking, ignoring me. Good. Sigh. So, the partial hardening¡ªlet¡¯s break it down. What is a limited time? Would be good to know, but I guess it is upgradeable, could be trained or somehow prolonged. There is no way this would be just a second right? How strong it is, is also quite interesting. Could this fully replace a shield? I wonder. Regen. Faster? What does faster mean? Can I end up like a Wolverine at some point? Or will all my wounds magically heal overnight? Can I regrow limbs? Can I regrow limbs I sacrificed to death or the parts of my body I poured acid on? I look up at the sky, believing someone or something is definitely watching us. ¡°Give me answers!¡± I whisper. Sighing and releasing the tension in my body I look on the ground.
I¡¯d love to have Regen. I''d really, really love to have regen, but. I desperately need to use more of my power or I would still break apart. And, if that well power''s power even exists it seems that it had the same disruptive impact on my body as using Focus. On the other hand, if I could always heal back... Sigh. This is so hard. "What is it, Markus?" Old man turns his sight towards me asking, looking at my clearly concerned expression. "Ugh. Nothing, I just have to think something through." "Fine." He nods and chit chats back with the group.
"Harden part of the skin for a limited time." "Faster human wounds healing." I whisper again, gazing at the invisible display. No! I get it! If there is so little info, then I must work with only that. ¡°Faster human wounds healing.¡± Human. Regrowing a limb is not a human thing to do. This is like a coin toss. You secretly want one of the options to win over the other. I decide quickly on this. *Tap* Chapter 86 - Fool’s Ambition Partial harden it is! My finger hovers over it, and I confirm it with a tap. The dropdown menu retracts, and the Partial Harden is embodied into the metal plate. I close it and look around, checking my arms and body, looking for any abnormalities. "Hmmm." Nothing special, but since I know how to activate my first power, I guess this will be a similar process. I just need to find a lot of time to test it properly and not hurt myself or catch any unwanted attention, best would be, of course, the night. This day was extremely exhausting, but damn successful, I summarize and look at the party. They seem to be looking at me now, mostly Harald giving me ''that'' look while leaning over the shell, surprisingly Mike is minding his own business. At least I think I know how he looks at me when he is jealous, but this time even after me devouring the whole boss he is not. Might be the gruesome death he went through or whatever, but now is time to test something better. It¡¯s time to flip the car back and get moving before it''s dark.
I cannot resist, looking at my right arm, I start imagining the hardening process. No idea what it could look like, but I imagine all sorts of scenarios. ¡°Harden,¡± I whisper while gazing at my hand. Will the skin get thicker, change color, or texture? Will I lose flexibility? "Mark? You alright? Need a hand?" The old man steps closer. He looks me in the eye and nods with a smirk.
My hand is suddenly stiff for a moment, like I was stung by an insect¡ªinstant paralysis for a moment. I wave my hand and clench my fist. Old man knows very well what is just happening. ¡°This went better than I could expect.¡± I whisper to myself. A large wide smile is slowly cracking on my face. I wonder why the receptionist guy that looks like a grinch from the Home Alone movie comes to my mind? Now, assured the power is activated, I turn around and try the hardness with a new gruesome idea. I press my palm against the cracked remains of the shell behind me, they seem to be hard and sharp enough to withstand the pressure. Pressing the dorsal side of my right arm against the sharp triangle, I push bit by bit to see how deep it can go. To my surprise, it is almost impossible to make a dent. Maybe I¡¯m pushing too little? I need to see a non-hardened sample to compare. Time to switch my arms and test the one that is not activated. Pressing the dorsum against the sharp fragment, I see it is instantly pushing inwards. "Tschk." It goes fairly easily, and a bit more and I would definitely cut my skin, probably even make a deep wound. What leaves me stunned is the effect itself. On the contrary, the strength based Focus is volatile, it shifts my body, destroys my skin and bones, distorting everything. It is auto-adjusting and overall extremely invasive power. But this one?Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Whoa. There is literally zero change between my hardening power being activated or not. For a moment I felt a little paralysis and numbness; this is the only effect so far. Maybe I¡¯ll give it another, even more rough test now. Since it is still activated, I¡¯m a bit afraid it could deactivate right at any moment and I would hurt myself. Without any hesitation, the bold move is what I sometimes do. *Smash* *Thud* Quick smash over the pointy triangle with my fist. *Loud thud and a crack follows* "Aargh! Damnit!" My bare arm one; the shell remains - zero. Single strong punch and the pointy end of the shell is shattered, but the pain radiates from the impact. Quickly looking at my arm I see a little dent in my skin. Good. So this is my limit now. "Boy, you sure you don''t want to join the club again?" The old man stands there, holding the jug in his hand already. "You''re right. I got used to not feeling anything and now slight discomfort and pain bothers me." He gently pours the acid inside the lid and carefully hands it to me. Hyperventilating for a few seconds before the dip I quickly take off my sneaker and sock. "Three. Two.." "Tschk." *Hissing.* The tip of my ring toe is gone and my body relaxes instantly. I wasn''t aware of the slight migraine I had, but now I''m once more relieved. The old man nods at me while dripping the lid and screwing it back. "Anyone else?" He looks at the couple. Mike raises his eyebrow in disagreement.
My hand suddenly twitches, and it can be assumed that this is the moment of deactivation of my new ability. I wonder if I can activate it right away, without any cooldown. Looking at the same spot, I whisper "Harden" but I''m interrupted. "Mark?" I stop focusing. ¡°I know, I know. There are no car repairs anywhere nearby, but I had no other idea than this.¡± I continue trying to joke. Harald halts my excuses with a single gesture and starts to ask me questions. ¡°How much?¡± he asks boldly and aloud. I flinch a bit as I expect him to go nuts knowing I wrecked his car, exactly as soon as he entrusted it to me. ¡°Five.¡± I respond in the same manner. Mike seems to act uninterested, almost ashamed. Did I just break his pointless competitiveness, or did the gruesome death indeed change him for good? ¡°New powers?¡± The old man continues. Now Mike is suddenly alert and notices my stare as Harald continues to ask. ¡°Yeah, two indeed,¡± I answer him with confidence. Mike''s human eye widens. My hand goes right under my shirt, and I pull out the amulet. ¡°This thing doubles my endurance." "That snail had it inside, but Mike refused to take it.¡± I look at him and continue acting chivalrous. ¡°But he rightfully deserves it.¡± He still has this weird guilty look and tries to play it cool and politely declines the amulet. Guess it was the death, after all? Harald wonders and tries to touch the amulet with his fingertips. I''m about to take it off and hand it to him to try. ¡°No, it''s okay,¡± he adds, and I¡¯m quite pleased I don¡¯t have to do it. No need for my wounds to be getting stretched again.
A cold breeze blows through the trees, and I feel my skin shivering. It also carries the dusk with itself and finally takes the rotting stench away with it. We look at each other and don¡¯t even need to say a word; everyone knows what to do. I turn right away towards the car and prepare for the lift. Am I doing this now? I ask myself and calculate. With so little knowledge of my powers, what¡¯s the worst thing that could happen? Body smashed by a four-ton car, or my arms exploding. But on the other hand, all this without any pain. Good. While squatting, I look at both my hands and whisper, ¡°Harden.¡± Stiffness and paralyzeI¡¯d go with ¡°numbness¡± over ¡°paralyze¡± as before, but it seems to be distributed. My hands were hardened before, including at least half of my forearms, but now I can feel it takes up only my palms. Still, quite good for a quality grip at least. "Focus!" I squeeze the sharp metal with my palms and push up. God damn! Both powers at the same time. Today¡¯s night will be a rough one--I won¡¯t be sleeping without answers and tests. Mike and Harald are standing on the sides trying to help me with the lift. Their push is almost insignificant. I can do all of this by myself, and I feel kinda bad for them. How shitty must they feel, well, mostly Mike. I am basically overpowering them by mostly having a lot of luck! *Creaking metal* followed by a loud metallic *Thud* Leftover glass particles ringing as they fall in and out of the car. The car rolls back on its wheels, wobbles a bit on the suspension, and finally settles. The old man sighs.
Test number two. "Are you sure? This again? He shakes his head in disbelief as I start to roll myself under the clearance again, like I just didn''t die a few hours ago doing the same thing. "Believe me!" I assure him while Mike is heading back to pickup Astrid as she is curious to see what''s happening. "Focus!" I say out loud. Left and right, I switch my sight between my arms and look for the bloating. My forearms, my biceps, my triceps, my shoulders. Everything is double the size! Locking myself in place, I start to push the car up, releasing slight groans and a steam if I was able. The hardening¡ªI will use it differently now. Hungry for the answers, I look at my most used muscle, and that is my chest in this case. I imagine the skin around my chest getting stronger, maintaining the muscle mass more under control. "Harden!" I scream through my gritted teeth. The car starts to move, and so does the muscle mass even more.
¡°Markus! Stop it!" "The car will fall!¡± screams Astrid suddenly. ¡°What are you tal...¡± *Loud thud and crack* ¡°Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!¡± The old man jumps away while swearing. ¡°Aaaargh!¡± Astrid and the boys are screaming. I feel something grabbing me by the legs and pulling me.