ã€ŠNPC Risingã€‹


 CH1 Dinner for Two, Death for One

    The rain painted the city streets in a neon blur and shimmering reflections. Traffic lights flickered like dying embers, their colors bleeding into the slick asphalt beneath Oliver¡¯s feet as he fiddled with his umbrella, which a gust snapped backward. The storm soaked him from hood to socks. He cursed under his breath.

    This would happen on a night like tonight.

    Ducking into La V¨¦g¨¦talienne, Oliver was greeted by the warm, earthy smell of vegan dishes and the soft murmur of conversations behind glass. His shoes squeaked with each step, drawing a glance from the hostess. Her tired blue eyes rested above heavy bags. She didn¡¯t seem fazed by his disheveled state or the plastic mask covering half his face. "Table for one?" she asked, her voice flat.

    "For two," Oliver said. The hostess retrieved the menus without a word, leading him through rows of tables adorned with flickering candles. The place oozed sophistication with its sleek black-and-white decor and the columns of light that bubbled like giant lava lamps.

    He felt out of place. He wasn¡¯t used to wearing anything but sweatpants or jeans, but now he sported black slacks and a shirt with a white tie, which made him look like he belonged here.

    Sandwich making at minimum wage didn¡¯t pay for luxuries like this. His clothes came from his uncle, who cleaned out the apartments of those who passed. He had been surprised to learn how often no one claimed the belongings. He wondered who had owned the clothes previously and if they were still in style.

    What he truly feared was the bill at the end of the night.

    But this wasn¡¯t just a dinner but an attempt to impress Ella. Was it a date? The question gnawed at him. He hoped so. Four times they¡¯d met like this, and each time, it felt like it. But then again, no one like her could ever truly see him that way, could she? Not with his messed-up face and life.

    He sat, phone in hand, scrolling endlessly through muted videos. A fitness influencer jumped rope on the screen, her tits mesmerizing, but the image vanished as soon as a server¡¯s voice pierced his trance. "Water?"

    Oliver jolted, fumbling his phone to the floor. "Yeah, water¡¯s fine," he muttered, flustered. He reached down to recover the device with a new chip in the corner. What was wrong with him? He couldn¡¯t even sit still without feeling on edge.

    Finally, through the hazy pane of glass, Ella appeared, walked in, and folded her umbrella. Her long hair was damp, but her figure was immaculate, even under the crumpled raincoat. She smiled when she saw him, and for a brief moment, his heart sputtered. Freckles dusted her cheeks and nose, adding to the effortless charm that had drawn him to her in the first place. God, she was beautiful.

    "Hey," he said, rising from his chair to pull one out for her. She slid gracefully into it, slipping from her coat. Not a single drop of rain seemed to have found its way to her skin. The universe itself moved around her.

    ¡°I¡¯ve had a rough day,¡± she said, sighed, and scanned the drink menu. ¡°I¡¯m getting something strong. You mind?¡±

    He felt his stomach twist at the thought of the drink¡¯s price, but he managed to smile. "Of course not." His finances barely stretched far enough to cover the meal, let alone cocktails, but what was he supposed to say? She deserved something nice after her terrible day. Overtime would pay his credit card minimum, hopefully.

    As Ella ordered, Oliver watched her scroll through her phone, laughing at something unseen on the screen. She barely looked up, even when the server placed a colorful, layered drink before her. He took a sip when she offered it, and though the rum and sugar concoction tasted sweet, the alcohol stayed at the forefront.

    Despite her distraction, Ella flashed him a smile that could have tamed an angry lion. "Sorry, I¡¯ve been so busy.¡± She swirled the straw in the glass. "This is nice, though." Her lips closed on the staw, and she sucked.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    Somewhere between the idle conversation and the clatter of dishes, Oliver mustered the courage to ask, ¡°Is this a date?¡±`

    Ella paused, lowering her drink as her eyes flickered toward him. "You¡¯re a great guy, Oliver," she said, her voice soft. "Any woman would be lucky to date you. But I don¡¯t want to ruin our friendship."

    The words hit harder than he expected, even though he¡¯d known his chances from the start. He forced a smile, swallowing the lump in his throat as a plate of roasted cauliflower, masquerading as chicken, landed under his nose. Any appetite he¡¯d had vanished.

    Suddenly, the child¡¯s voice cut through the haze of his disappointment. "Hey, mister. Can I see under the mask?"

    The boy was red-cheeked and still chewing, waiting for a reply.

    In Oliver¡¯s current mood, he wanted to tell the kid to fuck off, but before he could disappoint the little brat, the child vanished in a mist of blood. For that instant, nothing made sense. He had to piece what had happened together like a puzzle.

    A car had barreled through the restaurant¡¯s front window. Screams filled the restaurant. Legs twitched from under the vehicle.

    The world slowed to a crawl as a man in a red jacket exited the wreckage, laughing with a gun in his hand. The back doors popped open, and four more armed men appeared. They opened fire, slaughtering patrons with twisted joy.

    Blood sprayed the walls, stained the white tablecloths, and pooled under the dead. A waiter tried to run but slipped in the crimson sludge. A bullet bit his skull and ripped it in half.

    Oliver¡¯s mind still struggled to process the chaos. Why wasn¡¯t he running? Why wasn¡¯t he reacting? It was as if he were watching a movie but with ear-ringing gunshots and the pungent smell of the work of the butchers.

    Ella scooted back from the chair and crawled under the table.

    The man in the red coat grabbed her by the hair and hauled her to her feet. The struggle had pulled her blouse down far enough to expose a rosy nipple.

    Oliver stared at it. Embarrassment washed through him. What¡¯s wrong with me?

    The man raised a revolver to Ella¡¯s head and whispered something in her ear.

    She clenched her hands in front of her. She didn¡¯t move except for trembling. Large eyes resisted to look at the man who would end her life.

    Oliver launched himself forward without thinking, his attack barely enough to nudge the man''s arm. The bullet veered off course, shattering a glass carafe. Funny, he¡¯d sat there in shock while everyone else tried to do something to save their lives, and this was his first reaction? It couldn¡¯t be heroism. What else do you do when you find yourself trapped in a movie? Except, he didn¡¯t get the upper hand. The gun was now aimed at his forehead.

    A tall man walked over broken glass, his boots crunching it with each step. He held a sword that flashed in the mood lighting. His figure towered over Oliver. "Complete the objective and leave him for me. This one was once my swordmaster. I hated his scarred face."

    The man with the gun to Oliver¡¯s head lowered it.

    Oliver let out a breath. Is he talking about me? The man must be insane.

    The sword flashed, and Oliver experienced weightlessness as his head tumbled from his shoulders. Somewhere, he¡¯d read of an executioner who¡¯d tested how long a person who¡¯d been beheaded could communicate with blinks, and it had been for a fair amount of time. His last disembodied thoughts were about how pathetic his life had been.

    Ella stared down in horror at him. Maybe because he was decapitated or that the plastic mask that covered the burn fell aside. Darkness narrowed his vision until all was black.

    There is no time in death. The moment consciousness ceased lay no closer to itself than the end of the universe.

    Yet, light. Yes, something existed beyond the final chapter, some sort of epilogue. Strangely, it felt all too similar to life as it had been.

    Oliver closed a hand. His body and head were together. They must be. Had it all been a dream? He¡¯d had horrible nightmares as a child. This must be a once-in-a-lifetime nightmare that felt more real than anything.

    So why not open my eyes? He dreaded to see where he was.

    A braved glance revealed nothing but a bright blur. He found himself whole. A teacher once told him he had a good head on his shoulders. At least one part was true: his head was on his shoulders, where it should be.

    He sat upright on a cold, metal table in a room of blinding light. A dead figure draped in velvet-white robes approached.

    ¡°There¡¯s no way they saved my life,¡± he whispered more to himself than the creature. ¡°And you¡¯re no doctor.¡±

    The figure cocked its head, the hollow gaze of the white reaper resting on him. "NPCs shouldn¡¯t wake up during the Reset."

 CH2 Grow Big or Die

    Oliver panicked. His eyes darted around the illuminated room. The walls tilted as he stood. He steadied himself with a hand on the bed. Along his neck, there was nothing¡ªno wound, no pain. What the hell is going on?

    The white reaper stepped forward, its long fingers clicking on the scythe as it gestured to a glowing panel that appeared in the air beside Oliver. Numbers, stats, and strange symbols floated on the translucent screen. His name, Oliver Brin, appeared in bold font, but the label read NPC beneath it.

    "NPC?" Oliver read. "Like in a game?"

    The robed figure loomed, and its voice rumbled. ¡°You¡¯re not responding to the new memories, and I can¡¯t erase the old. You¡¯re making my job very difficult.¡±

    ¡°Difficult?¡± Oliver said. ¡°I just died. What are you talking about?¡±

    ¡°Lucky for you, when I encounter a challenging problem, I do what I¡¯ve always done: give up. You can keep your memories for what they¡¯re worth.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡± Oliver¡¯s memories weren¡¯t the fondest, but what would he be without them? ¡°What about this NPC nonsense?¡±

    The skeletal fingers moved on an unseen keyboard. ¡°Huh?¡±

    ¡°I said what does it mean to be an NPC.¡±

    ¡°You are interactive scenery, a background character in a larger narrative, of which there are many.¡± The creature made a grand gesture with a sweeping arm. ¡°Prepare yourself; you¡¯re now entering a new realm. One where size determines your place in the hierarchy.¡± He dropped his arm. ¡°Actually, it¡¯s one of my least favorites.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± The room shifted. The walls dissolved, and Oliver fell, though at first, only his mind tumbled, and then he saw a green world below. The wind rushed upward. A strange forest rushed up to meet him.

    He put his arms in front of his face and hit. It should have killed him, but he landed without pain. He picked himself up and brushed the dirt from himself.

    The forests consisted of massive grass blades. I don¡¯t have enough mass to die from falling. Even a cat can survive a long fall. I¡¯m more like a flea or something.

    A Giant blued with distance lumbered across the horizon. The sight sat him back down on his ass.

    The grass stretched to the sky. Pebbles the size of boulders littered the ground. Everything was immense.

    He crawled to his hands and knees and looked into a domed puddle of water. His reflection welcomed him, the familiarity comforting. It was the face he was used to, with a good jaw but a partial mask to cover his scars.

    ¡°How fascinating,¡± the reaper said. ¡°You¡¯ve gone haywire.¡±

    Oliver realized he¡¯d be crawling around and looking at everything. He stood and noticed he only had a leaf over his groin. ¡°Do I just get tossed into another world every time I die?¡±

    ¡°Basically.¡±

    ¡°So this a game then? I don¡¯t want to play.¡±

    ¡°And you can¡¯t. You¡¯re an NPC. Your job is to go about your life until a Player wants your assistance or wants to kill you.¡±

    The grass creaked as the wind tossed the length above, and the gust didn¡¯t stop. The wind howled and never died. Oliver stroked his chin in thought. I¡¯m not an NPC. I can¡¯t be. I think, therefore, I am, and all that shit.

    A massive beetle, its black shell gleaming, crawled past him. It gave Oliver the chills. "This isn¡¯t real," he said. He took a step back and tripped on a grain of sand. ¡°I don¡¯t like bugs, and especially not mammoth goddamn insects.¡±

    ¡°In this world, beings start small¡ªinsignificant, like you are now. But the stronger they become, the larger they grow. Eventually, they rise from ants to giants. Titans, even.¡±

    Oliver turned, his voice shaking. ¡°I can go back to normal?¡±

    The screen opened again.  A page of what looked like stats appeared, but all were grayed out and inaccessible. The page turned red and returned to the home screen. Under his name, in bold letters, the label Non-Player Character remained.

    ¡°You are not one of them, but you can grow if it¡¯s in your programming,¡± the reaper said, motioning toward a gap in the grass and a distant hill where a humanoid shape loomed large. The towering form radiated power.

    Oliver stared at the giant but couldn¡¯t digest what he was seeing. ¡°If I¡¯m just an NPC, then why am I here? Why do I have this screen? Why show me all this?¡±This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    The figure¡¯s hollow eyes somehow held amusement. ¡°I don¡¯t have all the answers. You are an anomaly. You have access to the HUD. Theoretically, you have access to the things you¡¯re not supposed to. But you¡¯d have to exercise free will to make use of your situation, and that¡¯s something you don¡¯t have.¡±

    Oliver picked up a rock and threw it at the droplet of water. It bounced. ¡°I chose to do that. I made the decision to throw the stone.¡±

    ¡°Did you, or did my comment spark a reaction you didn¡¯t have control over.¡±

    Oliver knew he was right. ¡°I¡¯ll prove it.¡± But how do you prove free will?

    The hollow eyes watched him for a long while. Skeletal fingers tightened around the scythe. ¡°You are smaller than the weakest Player. They will crush you underfoot without a second thought. I¡¯ll see you soon when they destroy you.¡±

    Oliver felt dread. How had he ended up here? He had gone from worrying about a failed date to contemplating life as an ant. The contrast was absurd, but the strangeness tantalized him. It¡¯s like he was on acid. This is all one massive delusion.

    He went through the screens, but most seemed glitchy. ¡°There must be something here.¡±

    The reaper said nothing.

    As if responding to his plea, the screen flickered once again. This time, a notification appeared:

    New Objective Unlocked: Survive the First Hunt.

    Oliver¡¯s stomach dropped. "First hunt? What the hell is that?"

    "I think the system is running some bad code. You¡¯re getting information designed for a player. I would ignore it."

    ¡°I can¡¯t?¡± Oliver said.

    ¡°Survive if you can.¡± The reaper walked a few paces and paused, hood turning over a shoulder. ¡°Another NPC approaches. See you very soon.¡± The reaper faded with each step until no trace of him could be seen.

    The ground shook and put Oliver on his ass. An earthquake?

    The sky darkened as a giant turtle stepped into view. It had a man¡¯s face. It must be a player character. The eyes gleamed with a killer''s lust, and in a mutant arm, he gripped an enormous stick with a rock head tied with plant fibers like a makeshift hammer.

    Oliver¡¯s heart raced. He was no more than a bug to squash. He turned and sprinted, his tiny feet pounding against the dirt. Behind him, the earth shuttered as the player began moving huge legs.

    He had no idea where he was going. As he ran, the screen blinked, displaying his status, his objectives, and a flicker of something new:

    Class: Star Sorcerer (Inactive), Level: 0, Abilities: N/A

    There was hope in that, even if only a tiny glimmer. If it kept changing, perhaps it would give him something useful.

    He scrambled over a pile of roots, and the creature¡¯s shadow fell over him. He glanced back and saw it catching up. He darted through a part in the grass, his tiny legs pumping. He pictured the hammer smashing him and flattening him like a cartoon character. Each crashing footstep prodded him onward, making it hard to keep his balance. The grass whipped past, and he heard the giant''s low, guttural laugh.

    ¡°Run, little man. Run, run, run.¡±

    But the ground was uneven. His foot caught, and he stumbled forward. His body flipped and rolled down a steep incline. He tried to catch himself but helpt falling. Rocks and dirt flew as he slid, finally landing with a thud in a crevice. The air was cool, and shadows stretched over the bed of moss under him, creating camouflage.

    The turtle thundered by and didn¡¯t notice him. It called to him, but the sound grew distant.

    He groaned and pushed himself up to his hands and knees, shaken but alive.

    Just as he caught his breath, something fluttered nearby, a rhythmic buzzing. He turned his head slowly, and there she was¡ªa girl, a ladybug girl. Her glossy red wings with black spots caught the dim light, and she looked at him with wide, curious eyes¡ªeyes a smidge too far apart but somehow pleasing. Her face was youthful, delicate, and framed by shiny black hair. Where a shell did not cover her, she was slim. She tilted her head, watching him with a warm smile.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± she asked, her voice playful, almost teasing. Her wings twitched as she spoke. "Running like that... trying so hard. Why?"

    Oliver stammered, taken aback by her question. I want to survive. It¡¯s instinct, of course. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°She tilted her head.¡±

    Was he flustered by a girl the size of an ant? She¡¯s a bug, damn it, why am I staring at her. ¡°I was running from a giant,¡± he said, still catching his breath, ¡°and trying not to get crushed by his hammer.¡± He gestured vaguely to the world above. ¡°Just surviving, you know.¡±

    She leaned in closer, and the dark pools of her eyes filled with interest. ¡°Surviving, huh? You know, I wouldn¡¯t mind being squashed,¡± She cupped her chin as if amused by the concept of being destroyed by a giant.

    He blinked, unsure how to respond to that. ¡°Uh, what?¡±

    She giggled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen anyone try as hard as you do. Running, scrambling, falling down holes. There¡¯s something about it that¡¯s¡­¡± Her eyes flicked up and down his small form, ¡°fascinating.¡±

    He brushed the dirt from his sleeves. ¡°It seems I¡¯ve fascinated a lot of people lately who want to kill me. I won¡¯t let that happen if I can help it. Isn''t that normal?"

    The ladybug girl shrugged, a playful grin tugging at the corner of her lips. ¡°I don¡¯t know. My parents pushed me from the leaf the day the spider came. I saw them back away, but it just took them.¡±

    He glanced nervously at the canyon walls, half expecting the giant to show up and peer down at them. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± What do you say to a thing like that? That¡¯s fucking awful.

    She buzzed her wings. ¡°Maybe that¡¯s what makes you so interesting. You want to live more than anything else. You were jumping and running.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m Oliver Brin. What¡¯s your name?¡±

    She laughed, a sound like tiny bells, and held out her hand. ¡°Zaisy. Come on, Mister Oliver. Let¡¯s survive something.¡±

    He didn¡¯t think she understood the idea of not wanting to die, but he followed beside the hum of her wings across a damp lowland. He hesitated when they reached a pond, but she pulled him onto the water. The sky reflection stretched as his feet pushed into the pond but supported his weight.

    He thought that maybe surviving this strange world wouldn¡¯t be so bad if he could walk on water.

 CH3 Mellow Hunter

    The ground tremors returned while Oliver hiked a steep incline, pitched backward, and slid. He glanced back at the fall and gasped, yet his fear was for nothing, as his diminutive mass prevented injury from falling.

    But what colossal creature caused the shaking this time? He¡¯d seen humanoid and Insectoid forms dominating the distance, but he had no idea how far away they were. At a certain point, things appear flat.

    The quake subsided. However, if he listened, he could hear something like a rolling storm. His mind still whirled, and he knew why mice skittered from one dark corner to another under the maleficent gaze of mankind. But no, he was no mouse; in the last encounter, he¡¯d been nothing more than a fly at the end of a flyswatter.

    On the upside, he was walking alongside Zaisy, the ladybug girl whose light steps were like a moonwalker¡¯s, and somehow, things were no worse than in his previous life in Las Calas¡ªnot that that had been all that great. Honestly, it had been miserable.

    Her smile seemed to hold affection as if she looked up to him. He¡¯d never had anyone look at him like this. Much to his chagrin, Ella had called him a friend, but they¡¯d spent no time together, and she barely acknowledged him.

    The towering blades of grass swayed above them like trees, their shadows casting shifting patterns over the ground. The air was thick with the scent of earth and floral smells. Despite the dangers, the place had a wild beauty to it.

    "So," he said, glancing at her. "Where are we?"

    She tilted her head, her glossy red wings rustling slightly. She considered his question. "This is Rhen Knoll. It¡¯s kind of a secret place for class sixers."

    "Rhen Knoll?" Oliver echoed. "What¡¯s class six?"

    ¡°It¡¯s just our size. We¡¯re right square in the middle from one to twelve. Below us, there are gnats, mites, and bacteria size. We¡¯re as large to the smallest as the largest are to us.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡±

    They walked silently over a boulder field. In the middle distance, the cone of an ant hill stood. The six-legged silhouettes looked like dogs climbing in and out of a small volcano. I am on acid.

    His questions about Rhen Knoll kept her talkative, but he wasn¡¯t sure why he was so curious about a place where he didn¡¯t belong. He could simply die and wake up in another place, perhaps one closer to his expectation of an ordinary world.

    "At the top, there¡¯s an oak tree that holds thousands," she said. "Where have you been living?"

    Oliver frowned. "Under a rock.¡±

    She seemed to accept the statement as fact, which led to an awkward silence.

    He broke it. ¡°How long have you lived around here?"

    She raised her sharp chin in thought. "I¡¯ve been here my whole life for two moons."

    Oliver choked on his spit and stopped. ¡°You¡¯re only two months old? I mean, I guess that makes sense for your condition." He didn¡¯t want to call her an insect. He quickly changed the subject. ¡°Tell me about the giants.¡±

    She spoke as they began climbing the knoll, which was more of a large smooth mountain. Her expression grew serious as she grasped for details. "The largest are a force of nature. They can wipe out cities with a step and never know it. Many are aiming to become that big by eating the next largest thing. They''re like you, striving to live but aggressive and hungry. The smaller ones hunt, eat those like us, and work their way up."

    He suspected the Players started just like him. "That makes sense. So I have to eat to become more powerful."

    She vaulted a ribcage from a creature the size of a rodent with the help of her wings. "Well, the food at the tree is always good. They mix so much together and with herbs. But it has to be very fresh to give you a boost."

    ¡°I¡¯ll try anything once.¡±

    ¡°Hmm, I should, too. I¡¯ll never survive the winter as skinny as I am.¡±

    After a while, the grass began to thin, and they reached the edge of a grove of gnarled, twisted weeds. In the middle of the clearing sat a man. He was sprawled out under a low-hanging seed head, his back against the rough shoot, lazily munching on a flea. Slurping ooze from his fingertips, he sat forward and turned half-closed eyes towards them.

    "That¡¯s Hunter," the ladybug girl whispered, nudging Oliver. "He¡¯s harmless now, but you should have seen him when he could have fit in your hand.¡±

    "Is he a Player?" Oliver asked, squinting at the man, but forgot she didn¡¯t know about them and NPCs. ¡°I mean, is he different?¡±This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    "A little. But I¡¯ve heard he¡¯s given up on the whole hunting thing. All he cares about now is relaxing."

    Hunter was tall, maybe twice the height of Oliver, but no earth shaker. He wore clothes made of scuffed leaf cloth and had transparent scales for hair. "The fleas are magical. This one, for instance," he curled the husk. ¡°Takes away all your worries. A single bite and you forget about everything wrong in the world. No more giants, no more monsters. Just existence as it¡¯s meant to be experienced."

    The ladybug girl rolled her eyes. "He¡¯s been at it for weeks now. He would probably be a giant if you could grow by repeatedly eating the same creature."

    Hunter sighed contentedly, leaning back. "Not everyone¡¯s cut out for the race, little bug. Sometimes, the best thing you can do is stop running and enjoy what the world gives you."

    Oliver walked up to the tall man. "At some point, you wanted to join the giants. What changed?"

    "There¡¯s always a bigger giant, kid.¡± Hunter stared at Oliver as if reading him like a book. "If you want safety, there¡¯s Tree City at the top of the knoll." He waved a hand vaguely toward the trees. "Big tree, lots of branches. The folks there know how to keep to themselves. Why don¡¯t you two come back with me."

    Zaisy jumped and clapped her hands together. ¡°That¡¯s where we¡¯re headed.¡±

    Oliver¡¯s heart lifted at the thought of safety. Perhaps Hunter had things right. "I think that¡¯d be great?"

    Hunter groaned as he lifted himself from the ground as if it took all his energy. "Yeah, let¡¯s get going." He stretched before tossing the shell aside. "Before it gets dark."

    With that, the three set off into the forest of weeds and grass. As they walked, Oliver couldn¡¯t help but study the strange man. How could anyone live so peacefully in a world such as this? The distant sound of something heavy crashing through the underbrush echoed behind them, and the hairs lifted from the back of his neck. He folded his arms against the chill and hurried on.

    The sun sank below the hash grass blades, their tips brushing against a sky painted in hues of orange and violet. A gusty wind rustled the stalks, which snapped and creaked. The air carried the scent of damp soil and a distant murmur of civilization.

    As Oliver, Zaisy, and Hunter approached the base of the colossal oak, they could see the entrance to Tree City. The sheer scale of the world pressed upon Oliver. The tree''s roots twisted and coiled like the sinewy limbs of ancient titans. The rest rose from there, ever higher, and higher.

    Oliver gazed upward, craning to take in the sprawling network of branches that stretched beyond sight into misty dusk. Tiny lights flickered among the leaves. They were lanterns, bonfires, and bioluminescent creatures. The display flickered on Zaisy¡¯s shell in the failing light. The air vibrated with the hum of activity: the flutter of wings, the patter of tiny feet, and the soft lilt of unfamiliar melodies.

    "Welcome to Tree City," Zaisy said, her wings fluttering excitedly. She gestured toward a spiraling pathway carved into the bark, lined with mushrooms. "Don¡¯t you like it?"

    He nodded. The city pulsed with life and warmed something in him that had grown cold in his solitary existence, but he didn¡¯t like that. "It''s okay." A sense of hope stirred within him, but he quickly stilled it.

    The display flickered. Survive the hunt. What was wrong with the damn thing?

    Survive the hunt. It stayed until he X¡¯d out of it.

    They began their ascent, the path winding around the massive trunk. Intricate carvings adorned the bark of mystical creatures and celestial bodies that shimmered as they passed. A woodpecker worked on a praying mantis statue, and its beak blasted into the wood. One peck would destroy Oliver. He made a wide circle around the bird. The air quivered with the next strike. He wasn¡¯t looking where he was going and tripped at the top of a staircase.

    The stairs led down into a dark hole. Other staircases spiraled into small dwellings within hollows and crevices, entrances adorned with colorful petals and trinkets. Inhabitants of all shapes and sizes emerged to observe the newcomers: beetle folk with iridescent shells, nimble green things with thin wings, and others that defied explanation.

    Children¡ªif they could be called that¡ªchased one another along the branches, their laughter ringing like wind chimes. Vendors called out from stalls fashioned from leaves and twigs, offering goods that ranged from fragrant nectar to odd tools. The mingling scents of sweet pollen and savory roasted seeds filled the air.

    Hunter lagged a few steps behind, his long hands tucked casually into the pockets of his leaf-woven trousers. "See? I told you it''s a nice place," he said. "Easy to get lost in the crowd here, so stay close while I find a place for you to stay."

    Oliver glanced back at him, noting his relaxed posture, contrasting with the vibrant energy surrounding them. "This is your home?" Oliver said.

    Hunter shrugged, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "The world is my home."

    Zaisy spun, walking backward with effortless grace. "Come on, I want to show you the Grand Atrium!"

    They emerged into an expansive chamber where the tree''s branches formed a natural dome overhead. Bioluminescent flowers dangled like chandeliers, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the gathering. At the far end sat a podium carved from a single piece of amber. A moth-like elder addressed a crowd. ¡°Smother that flame. It throws my balance off.¡±

    Curiosity nudged Oliver closer to listen. The elder cleared his throat and spoke of sightings at the edge of their territory, including one that ripped a branch from the tree. Luckily, the monster didn¡¯t discover the city during its rampage.

    A knot tightened in Oliver''s stomach. "If they grow bigger by eating, that means every day becomes more dangerous," he whispered, and it wasn¡¯t a question.

    Zaisy¡¯s natural enthusiasm flagged. She nodded, her shoulders drooping. "It¡¯s said there will be a single giant at the end of time."

    ¡°That time is probably close,¡± Hunter said.

    The elder laid out a defense plan, but Oliver lost interest. The crowd began to disperse. As they moved away, he caught snippets of conversations¡ªspeculations about the giants, rumors of disappearances, and debates over whether to fortify the city or seek a new home.

    He felt a weight settle on his shoulders. The danger he thought he''d left behind was closer than ever. "Maybe coming here was a mistake."

    Zaisy placed a gentle hand on his arm, her eyes earnest. "You''re safe for the time being."

    Her touch was comforting, but doubts lingered. Oliver gazed up at the intricate patterns of light above. When he turned to leave, the elder caught his arm.

    ¡°Come with me.¡±

 CH4 Memories Scattered

    The air grew cooler as Oliver descended into the tree''s heart. The warm glow of fungi played green shadows along the steep staircase. Close walls felt smooth to the touch, sanded and lacquered.  A faint noise of sap resonated through the timber.

    He glanced at Zaisy, whose usually vibrant wings were folded close and her head bent low. "Where¡¯s he taking us?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

    "The Elder wants to show you something important," she replied, avoiding his gaze. Her usual cheerfulness was replaced with a solemn expression that unsettled him.

    Behind them, Hunter trailed with his hands tucked into his pockets, his eyes wandering along the walls. "Deep roots hold old secrets. I¡¯d be nervous if I were you."

    The staircase ended at a grand chamber carved into the living wood, its ceiling disappearing into darkness. Three crystal orbs rested on pedestals at the center. Each glowed and bathed the room in blue light. Tendrils of mist curled within one, and the scent of things almost remembered teased Oliver¡¯s nostrils.

    The Elder stood beside the orbs and plucked up the one with a swirling interior, his moth wings folded neatly behind him. "Welcome," he said, his voice too large for the small room. "This orb went crazy when you three appeared. Two of you have been here before, so I knew it was connected to Oliver. It¡¯s time to find out what it does."

    Oliver stepped forward cautiously. "What is it?" He wanted to ask how the moth knew his name, but he figured Zaisy or Hunter told him.

    "A Memory Sphere," the Elder said. "They hold truths from beyond the Veil."

    As Oliver approached, it glowed brighter and pulsed. Warmth worked its way through his body, drawing him closer. It beckoned to him and made promises he couldn¡¯t quite understand.

    Zaisy grabbed his arm. "Wait, Oliver. Are you sure about this?" Her eyes searched his face, concern plain in her features.

    He hesitated. "I don''t know. It feels... like it¡¯s part of me."

    Hunter leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. "Playing with things you don¡¯t understand is dangerous," he said. ¡°It might be best to leave well enough alone."

    The Elder touched Oliver¡¯s shoulder, "Some giants destroy them as if they fear them. And never have we reunited one with one¡¯s orb. Don¡¯t you see the significance?"

    Oliver looked back at the glowing orb. "Yes. What do I have to do?"

    "Place your hands upon it," the Elder instructed. "Let it guide you."

    Zaisy bit her lip. "I don''t like this. What if something goes wrong?"

    Oliver offered a reassuring smile. "I''ll be okay. Maybe this will help me understand what''s happening to me. You don¡¯t know what I¡¯ve gone through."

    She glanced away. "Just be careful."

    Stepping up to the pedestal, Oliver placed his palms on the cool surface of the orb. The feelings intensified. Images flickered within the crystal. Figures moved in exotic scenes. Cryptic symbols spelled out words in languages he should know. He felt tethered to something vast.

    Bits of a new life flowed into him, filling his mind with fragmented emotions. He felt exhilaration, fear, sadness, and hope. However, as quickly as it came, the sensation faded. The orb''s light dimmed, returning the chamber to dimness.

    He staggered back, catching himself before he fell. "What was that?¡± He¡¯d felt odd, like he¡¯d stared at the world through someone else''s eyes, but only briefly.

    Zaisy rushed to his side. "Are you alright?"

    "I''m not sure." He rubbed his temples. "I mean, yes. Come to think of it, I feel great."

    The Elder took back the dim orb. "I think you have become one with the spirit memories."

    Hunter brushed back the scales on his head. "So, nothing happened."

    Oliver wouldn¡¯t even try to explain the experience. "It wasn¡¯t nothing."

    Zaisy examined his face, brushed the hair from his brow, and touched his forehead like a mother. "Do you feel alright?"

    "I¡¯m okay."

    ¡°What is okay?¡± She said the last word slowly. Evidently, it wasn¡¯t part of her vocabulary.

    The Elder placed a hand on his shoulder. "Thank you, and please let me know if anything should happen for better or worse."

    Oliver relaxed and let slip the quip, ¡°Memory Shere¡¯s can cause dysentery, blindness, or instant death.¡± He thought it was funny, mocking pharmaceutical ads, but no one looked amused or would have understood. He sighed and followed Hunter.

    As they made their way up the staircase, the atmosphere felt heavier. The tree''s creaking seemed louder, the shadows inkier. Zaisy walked closely beside him, her wings brushing lightly against his arm.

    "That was brave," she said.

    He wasn¡¯t going to disagree with her. She thought he was brave.

    Hunter walked a few steps behind, whistling a tuneless melody. "You know what I expected? Enlightenment. Superpowers."

    Oliver shrugged. "I couldn¡¯t be that lucky."

    They emerged into the familiar warmth of the upper levels, the sounds of Tree City bustling around them. A memory brushed against his mind. I¡¯d been somewhere like this, but different.

    Before they parted ways, the Elder insisted the trio come to dinner, though Oliver suspected the reason was to keep an eye on him.

    The warm glow of lanterns bathed the interior of the Elder''s dwelling, carved deep within the oak. Tapestries woven from spider silk adorned the walls, depicting scenes of everyday life along the thinner branches. Life in the canopy appeared to be rural compared to the urban boughs.

    A long table stretched across the room, laden with exotic dishes.

    Oliver sat beside Zaisy, his eyes wide as he surveyed the feast before them: bowls of glistening nectar, platters of roasted seed kernels, and a steaming pot of mite porridge. Hunter put an arm over the back of his seat and cast an eye over the variety.

    The Elder entered and took a seat at the head of the table. "Eat, my friends," he said, gesturing to the spread. "At this hour, Tree City turns forty seasons. And on this very night, a stranger is reunited with his Memory Sphere. Traditions and legends are alive and well, and the tree stands strong." He raised a cup, and the table of odd creatures drank.

    Oliver hesitated at tasting the mite porridge. "I¡¯m hungry, but I¡¯m not used to this.¡±

    "A traditional dish," the Elder replied. "It nourishes not just the body but the spirit."

    Zaisy grinned, scooping a portion into a wooden bowl and tasting it. "It''s delicious."

    With a cautious glance at Hunter, who gave a noncommittal shrug, Oliver served himself. The porridge was surprisingly flavorful, a blend of savory and sweet. As he ate, a subtle tingling sensation spread through his limbs.

    "If you feel one wiggle, just bite down?" Zaisy said. Her eyes widened after he took a few bites.

    "Yeah," Oliver figured he probably had. They¡¯re so small they probably enter one¡¯s mouth all the time, but not with this body. He was so small that mites were like regular bugs to him. Flexing his fingers, he said. "I feel stronger."

    The Elder watched him intently. "I don¡¯t think he¡¯s ever eaten a mite."Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Hunter laughed. ¡°Who his size grows from eating mites?¡±

    As the meal continued, Oliver noticed his perspective shifting. The table seemed lower, the room smaller. He realized with a start that he had grown, at least on par with Hunter. "This is weird," he said.

    Zaisy clapped her hands. "Look at you."

    Before he could respond, a distant rumble shook the floor, causing the dishes to rattle. The warm atmosphere of the gathering evaporated instantly.

    The Elder''s expression darkened. "Stay here," he commanded, moving swiftly toward the entrance.

    Oliver stood. "What''s happening?"

    Hunter rose leisurely, though his eyes were sharp. "It sounds bad."

    A piercing scream tore through the air, followed by a cacophony of screams. Without thinking, Oliver rushed after the Elder, with Zaisy and Hunter close behind.

    They emerged into chaos. A shape moved before the city¡¯s skylines, beyond which was only blackness now. A roar pierced through even the screams of the inhabitants. A centipede tore through a platform building, its segmented body undulating with horrific grace. Its exoskeleton gleamed like tarnished metal, and its multitude of legs clawed everything it trampled. Residents scattered in all directions, their cries helpless.

    "By the wood spirits..." Hunter said, pulling out a long blade of serrated bone.

    The centipede''s mandibles snapped at those who fled, severing a man mid-stride. Blood sprayed a child with bulbous eyes. The creature let out a shrill hiss and ate half the body in one swallow.

    "It¡¯s just a centipede. We have to kill it." But Oliver was thinking like his normal-sized self. This thing was monstrous.

    Zaisy grabbed his arm. "It''s too dangerous. We have to go."

    The centipede swung its head toward them, blood drool oozing, and lunged. The force of its movement cracked the branch beneath their feet. They leaped aside just as its mandibles sliced through the space where they¡¯d been.

    The Elder stepped forward, staff in hand. "Begone, beast!" he commanded, striking the ground. A pulse of light emanated from him, momentarily halting the centipede''s advance.

    Seizing the opportunity, Oliver hurled the first object he laid hands on, a lantern. It hit the creature''s eye but bounced off harmlessly. The centipede turned its gaze on him, a guttural growl from deep within its thorax.

    "That was stupid," Hunter said and stepped in front of Oliver.

    The creature charged, and Hunter drew a green line of blood along its side. Oliver barely managed to dodge and landed hard on the floor. He scrambled up, heart pounding. The centipede reared back, preparing to strike again.

    Suddenly, the Elder interposed himself between Oliver and the monster. "You must survive," he said. ¡°You were brought here by the Memory Sphere.¡± With a swift motion, he struck his staff against the centipede''s head. The creature recoiled in a shower of sparks. It retaliated with blinding speed, its mandibles closing around the Elder.

    "No!" Oliver screamed as the Elder was lifted into the air, his body limp.

    Why would someone sacrifice themselves for me?

    The centipede flung the Elder aside, his form disappearing into the abyss below.

    "Oliver!" Zaisy''s urgent cry snapped him back to the present.

    They retreated, weaving through the tangle of branches. Around them, the city was in ruins. Fires sparked where lanterns had fallen, and the screams of the wounded and dying filled the air.

    Two women ran from an opening. One was shockingly naked, and though she had the glossy shell of a beetle, she appeared very human, and her curved lines very feminine.

    The other clutched a child. The centipede struck before she could step, obliterating each in a mist of blood.

    Oliver''s gut twisted. This was more than a random attack. "It''s hunting me," he said more to himself than anyone.

    Hunter glanced at him sharply. "What do you mean?"

    "This is the hunt. It''s after me." He summoned the menu screen, the translucent display appearing before his eyes. On was new information:

    Centipede Colossus

    <ul>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Weaknesses: Underbelly, vulnerability to fire.</li>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Resistances: Hardened exoskeleton, rapid regeneration.</li>

    </ul>

    "It''s got weaknesses," he said. "But we can''t fight it here. People are dying."

    Zaisy nodded, fear etched on her face. "We have to leave."

    Hunter crossed his arms. "You think it¡¯s hunting you? I never signed up for this."

    Oliver met his gaze. "I should go alone."

    "Not a chance," Zaisy said. "We''re in this together."

    Hunter sighed. "I barely know either of you, but I don¡¯t trust you guys to save yourselves. I think I¡¯ll stick around for a while and see you don¡¯t die."

    A thrashing behind them signaled the centipede''s approach, its bulk splintering the structures behind them.

    "Okay," Oliver conceded. "But we need a plan." No one spoke up, and he couldn¡¯t come up with anything on the spot. But he kept it in the back of his mind.

    They descended the spiraling pathways and took three or four steps at a time. The centipede pursued, its segmented body tearing through the architecture and ripping screams from its victims. Away from the tree, the sounds it made softened, scratching through the grass-bladed forest.

    It slowed, but so did they.

    By dawn, they¡¯d lost track of the hunter and plunged into the grass. Exhaustion weighed on them, and their breaths came in gasps. But the predator¡¯s rustling again signaled its presence. It was relentless.

    "We can''t keep this up," Zaisy panted.

    Oliver scanned the terrain. "I thought of a plan. I once watched a movie¡­ I mean, I heard a story about an invisible and super-strong hunter. The hero lured it into traps of spikes and pits. It''s vulnerable underneath."

    Hunter gestured to the ground around them. "Digging a pit would take time we don''t have."

    Oliver rubbed his chin, "What if we use one of the animal burrows? Expand it, set spikes at the bottom."

    No one protested. They continued onto a mound where the forest thinned. They could see over the grass tops, which gave away the centipede''s movement.

    Zaisy pointed just over the other side. "There! There¡¯s a ground wasp hole."

    They hurried to the site, a gaping hole descending into darkness. Tossing handfuls of dirt, they worked to widen the opening, sharpening stiff chutes into crude stakes and placing them in the pit.

    Oliver blocked the creeping thought of the wasp¡¯s return. Judging by the size of the whole, it would be massive.

    They worked as fast as they could, but it took too long, and what they feared happened as the grass nearby spasmed. The creature neared.

    Oliver separated a fiber from a wilted leaf and finished the false ground. "Ready?"

    Hunter drew his bone sword. "As I''ll ever be."

    ¡°Zaisy, I need you to find the centipede and call it over here.¡±

    She darted above the grass, yelling, "Hey, over here!"

    The creature erupted into the clearing, its gaze locking onto her. It surged forward, mandibles snapping.

    "Now!" Oliver said. ¡°Behind the pit.¡±

    Hunter stumbled on a waste piece of leaf and almost went into the pit. He cursed and jumped.

    The beast''s forward momentum caused it to stumble, and it snapped at him. It lost balance on the false ground and plunged into the pit. The stakes impaled its underbelly. It screeched and whipped its body, causing even more damage.

    Oliver walked to the edge and peered down. But it wasn''t over. The centipede tore rents in its body and lifted upward to stare face to face.

    "It won''t die!" Zaisy cried, hovering above.

    Desperation fueled Oliver, and he grabbed a spur on the creature and swung out of the way. "Hunter, stab it."

    Hunter fell and kicked at the mouth of the beast. ¡°I can¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Throw your sword to me.¡±

    Hunter flung the bone blade.

    Oliver caught it out of the air. What was happening to him? There was no way he could have ever done this before. He threw himself on the back plates and rode like a jockey. He slid down and around to the underbelly. Was his body just better in this world? No, he would have noticed. The orb had given him power. He stabbed into its guts, over and over.

    After the centipede lay dead, Zaisy landed beside Oliver, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "We did it. Too bad it had to die."

    Hunter clapped a hand on Oliver''s shoulder. "Not bad. Let¡¯s not let it go to waste."

    The Elder''s sacrifice, the rampage through Tree City, the innocent lives taken, why did it matter to Oliver? This wasn¡¯t real. He wiped goo from his face. ¡°What?¡±

    Zaisy nodded as if it were decided. "We¡¯ll need a fire. I won¡¯t eat anything raw."

    Oliver choked on his spit. ¡°What? We¡¯re going to eat it?"

    Hunter gazed into the distance. "Let¡¯s hurry before a wasp shows up."

    ¡°This is for you,¡± Zaisy said. ¡°If you want to become stronger to survive, you must eat what you defeat.¡±

    Oliver looked at the disgusting corpse. Gross. "Let¡¯s fry it up."

    Only Hunter knew how to get a fire started. But Oliver helped gather kindling and whatever else appeared burnable. They had to eat it while it was fresh.

    When they circled the fire a ways from the threat of the wasp, Zaisy pushed a chunk of the meat onto a skewer. ¡°Why do you wear that on your face.¡±

    The crackle of flames filled the clearing, casting dancing shadows against the looming grass.

    Oliver touched the plastic mask. Believe it or not, he hadn¡¯t noticed it. Why would his new body have it? Or maybe he didn¡¯t get a new body. Perhaps the scale of this world was larger, and he was the same size as he had been. ¡°My mom took an iron to my face.¡±

    Maybe Zaisy didn¡¯t know what an iron was, but her eyes glistened, and she didn¡¯t ask.

    They cut into the beast and cooked portions around a campfire. With each bite, they grew. It wasn¡¯t just a little bit like with the mites. Oliver could reach up and bend a blade of grass to the ground. He was massive. Well, relatively speaking. And naked. Only the mask scaled to his new height.

    Unfortunately, they didn¡¯t get much time to enjoy their new level, which must have been seven or eight.

    The grass stirred, and two men, one with the head of a garden snake and the other with the pinched face of a mouse, looked down from over the tops of the blades.

    The snake hissed and spoke. ¡°That one there, laying back half asleep. He was that special forces guy, a real pain in the ass.¡±

    ¡°You fucking noob. Let¡¯s not waste our time. We need to level up quickly. They¡¯ll get us nothing.¡±

    ¡°Na, I want to kill him if only for the satisfaction.¡±

 CH5 Directionless

    Oliver exploded to his feet. Since when could he move so fast? The intruders wanted to kill Hunter. It sounded like he had pissed them off in another world, and they meant to seek revenge.

    The snake man hissed and slithered closer. ¡°Some of these NPCs freak me out. Look at the one with the mask. He looks like he¡¯s broken the fourth wall and understands what we said.¡±

    Had Oliver given something away? He controlled his expression. What had they meant by a fourth wall? Oh, it made sense from a Player¡¯s perspective. NPCs must be programmed to ignore information from outside their storyline.

    Zaisy lifted into the air but couldn¡¯t fly as well after the growth. "I don¡¯t think they¡¯re friendly.¡±

    Hunter narrowed his eyes, casually resting a hand on the hilt of his bone sword. "I think they want a fight."

    Before Oliver could respond, a translucent screen materialized. It showed new information: Level 1 Star Mage. Below the text, an image of a swordstaff rotated¡ªa staff with an entire sword blade on one end etched with runes. He reached out but didn¡¯t remember wanting to do so. The swordstaff materialized in his grasp, solid and real. The weight was familiar and balanced, and he spun it to catch it again in a firm grip as if he¡¯d done so countless times.

    The display flickered, and an error message caused the window to scroll. At least he assumed it was an error because it was all red script. One line of green text stood out, a new class paired with Star Mage: Weapons Master Level 20.

    The reaper was wrong. It wasn¡¯t he who had gone haywire but the game.

    Confusion mingled with a surge of adrenaline. Two classes? What¡¯s happening?

    The intruders exchanged a glance before advancing.

    The mouse man drew a wedge-shaped mallet. ¡°He has tricks. But he¡¯s small, can¡¯t be too powerful.¡±

    It was true. Oliver stood no taller than their midriff.

    The snake-headed man circled to the side, eyes never leaving Oliver. "I want that little weapon. Look at its construction, like it came from a high fantasy world."

    The other nodded. ¡°And look at him. He¡¯s got no other creature mixed in his genes. Maybe the Universal Constructor fucked up.¡±

    Zaisy stepped back, wings quivering. "I don¡¯t know what they¡¯re saying, but it can¡¯t be good."

    Oliver was confident he was right. NPCs couldn¡¯t understand information outside their world. He could sit Zaisy down and explain where he came from, but she wouldn¡¯t understand. However, as was Hunter and all the other NPCs, she was conscious. At least, it must be so if he himself could think and feel.

    Hunter drew the bone sword, but it wasn¡¯t much more than a dagger. "I think the world¡¯s out to get you, Oliver. It¡¯s one danger after another."

    Oliver felt a strange sensation welling up inside him. No, it was confidence. He¡¯d never felt confident before, especially not like this. His grip tightened on the swordstaff, and his stance widened.

    "Let¡¯s take out the fantasy man," the snake-face hissed.

    Without another word, the assailants lunged. The mouse-face darted forward with surprising speed, blade aimed at Oliver''s chest.

    Time turned syrupy.

    Oliver sidestepped, his movements fluid. He parried the attack with the black wooden shaft and used it to sweep his opponent.

    Mouse-face slammed into the ground, air leaving his lungs and struggling to reenter.

    The snake-headed man struck next, his motions serpentine and unpredictable. He lashed out with fangs, and with a slinky neck, the bite could reach further than expected.

    Oliver met each attack with precision. He was hardly trying and wasn¡¯t winded. He¡¯d played sports here and there with friends and knew he¡¯d typically be huffing and puffing, but he was so relaxed, his body making the smallest adjustments, he could hold his breath and do this.

    Zaisy watched with big eyes. "How is he doing that?" she whispered.

    Hunter shrugged. "He¡¯s full of surprises."

    The intruders fought fiercely. Their desperation caused them to take chances. Despite their efforts, Oliver remained a step ahead.

    Mouse-face howled when the swordstaff severed his arm.

    Snake-face snarled, launching into a frenzied assault, fangs snapping everywhere.

    Oliver anticipated each move, countered, and struck. He knocked the attacker off balance, the tip of his blade hovering at the snake man''s throat.

    Breathing heavily, the snake-man glared up at him. "Something¡¯s wrong with you, NPC."

    That¡¯s almost precisely what Oliver¡¯s mother had said before applying the iron. Something¡¯s wrong with you. You¡¯re like a leech.

    Oliver hesitated. Could he kill? The centipede lacked any humanity, at least on the outside, but they spoke and had human body parts.

    The intenseness in his opponent''s eyes wavered, revealing a flicker of fear.

    Oliver lowered the point of his weapon. "Leave now, and don''t come back."

    The two acted submissive, scooting backward, but then fangs struck. The mouse man shot forward to tackle Oliver, but the swordstaff drew deep red gashes.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    A moment later, the two beasts lay in pools of blood. Dead.

    As the silence settled, Oliver felt a release as the adrenaline ebbed. He looked down at the weapon in his hands, the runes dimly aglow, and wiped the blood from its edge. "I didn¡¯t want to kill them."

    Zaisy approached cautiously. "That was... incredible. I''ve never seen anyone move like that."

    Hunter folded his arms. "You''ve been holding out on us. Where''d you learn to fight like that?"

    "I didn''t," Oliver said, his brow furrowed. "It was like someone else took over."

    Zaisy''s expression shifted to one of concern. "That¡¯s weird." She kneeled beside their bodies. "They fought so hard, even when they were losing. It''s sad."

    Oliver said to himself more than her, "They will live again."

    Hunter placed a hand on his shoulder. "I didn¡¯t know you were religious. Anyway, we better stoke the fire. We have eating to do."

    Oliver felt bile at the back of his throat. "Eat them?"

    They¡¯d eaten the centipede. What¡¯s the difference? It wasn¡¯t precisely cannibalism being animal mixed. And this was the law of the land. This world demanded the strong consume the weak. It was less of a meal and more of an absorption of power.

    By the time they¡¯d finished, their stomachs threatened to explode. Their heads now protruded from the grass. They stood so tall they could see Tree City in the distance, rising in relief against the twilight.

    When morning light filtered through the weeds above the shoulder-high grass, the dampness of morning dew carried the scent of greenery as the trio continued their journey. Oliver used the swordstaff as a walking stick. The runes along its length glinted in the light of a pink sky.

    He focused intently on the translucent screen hovering before him. "Level 1 Star Mage," he read aloud, not worrying about his companions. ¡°Available spells,¡± he rattled them off and looked for any clues to their function, pros and cons. But every screen seemed janky.

    Zaisy could no longer fly, but she could leap into bushes and back down with the aid of her wings. "I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about, but it sounds mystic. I¡¯ve heard of plant masters who can make things grow. Are you tinkering with magic?"

    "Yes, I am. But it¡¯s a little different. I¡¯m no plant master or wherever you¡¯re thinking of. I¡¯m just trying to understand my class.¡±

    "Messing with magic you don''t understand? Sounds risky," Hunter said.

    Oliver selected Starlight Beam when he used two fingers to touch it. A tingling sensation coursed through him. "I''ll start with something simple and see what happens."

    He aimed his open hand at a distant rock, concentrating and channeling the wild energies spiraling within him. The runes along the blade ignited, and a liquid light beam struck and shattered the rock. Shrapnel shot upward, and pebbles rained down.

    Zaisy clapped her hands together. "Impressive."

    "Let¡¯s see what this does," Oliver said. He selected Astral Lance. He focused on a spot far ahead, and hot energy erupted from his hand.

    A burst of light engulfed the area, knocking them backward. Oliver tumbled. Dazed, he sat up to see Zaisy sprawled on the ground, frantically patting out cinders. He snapped out of it and ran over to her. "Are you okay?"

    She winced but managed a reassuring smile. "I''m fine, It¡¯s not bad."

    A mixture of guilt and fear washed over him. "I''m so sorry."

    She placed a gentle hand on his. "It''s alright."

    Hunter dusted himself off, his expression stern. "This is why meddling with powers you don''t understand is a bad idea. I never liked plant masters."

    Oliver stood up. "I have to learn somehow. But maybe I should do it alone.¡±

    Zaisy stepped between them. "Let''s not fight. He¡¯s not doing anything alone."

    Oliver took a deep breath. "I¡¯ll be very careful from now on."

    When they began to leave, they discovered why the Astral Lance had exploded in their faces. Not far away, a giant lizard lady lay smoking on the ground.

    Hunter bent over her. ¡°She¡¯s a chameleon. You might have just saved our lives, Oliver. I still think using your magic around others is dangerous, but luck is on your side.¡±

    Zaisy cried, ¡°I can¡¯t eat another bite.¡±

    Moving close, Hunter stared her in the eye. ¡°We chose to help Oliver, and he¡¯s aiming for the top.¡± He pointed upward. ¡°We eat, and we grow.¡±

    She responded in a small voice. ¡°Alright.¡±

    Oliver poked the lizard. ¡°It¡¯s already cooked.¡±

    After the meal, the grass forest only reached to their knees. The perspective of the land appeared more normal than ever. However, they would never enter Tree City again and had to fashion new clothing.

    The terrain began to change, the ground sloping upward. The grass gave way to rocky outcrops and sparse vegetation.

    As they crested a shoulder of land, a sudden gust of wind swept their hair upward. The ground terminated at their feet, revealing a sheer cliff that dropped into a vast valley below.

    Oliver staggered back."Whoa. I almost walked off the edge."

    Zaisy hovered crazily over the side, her wings beating. "It¡¯s amazing."

    The world tilted for Oliver. ¡°Get back.¡± He crouched at the rim.

    The valley stretched like an ocean of green and gold, dotted with strange rock formations and a silver thread of a river. Down there, specks moved. And, to the north, a giant lumbered.

    Hunter approached. Unless you knew him, he¡¯d think he was unimpressed, but the slight widening of the eyes betrayed his awe. "I''ve never been this far. I haven¡¯t so much as heard a story from these parts.¡±

    Zaisy retreated from danger. "So what do we do now?"

    Oliver considered their options. "We need to find a way down. Maybe there''s a path along the cliff."

    They cautiously followed the cliff''s edge. The wind tugged at their clothes. The rocky terrain was treacherous, loose stones shifting underfoot. At one point, the ground crumbled beneath Hunter, and he grabbed onto a protruding root to save himself.

    "Careful!" Zaisy said, reaching out to help.

    He chuckled nervously. "Thanks. Guess I''m not used to these longer legs yet."

    Structures built into the cliffside appeared far underfoot. A network of dwellings carved into the stone was connected by carved steps or rope bridges and ladders.

    "Another city," Oliver observed. "They are at least our size or larger."

    Zaisy strode down the path ahead of them. "I want to meet them."

    Hunter scratched his chin. What was once a shadow was now a beard. "They might be hostile."

    "Only one way to find out," Oliver said, chasing Zaisy.

    A few broad places along the path allowed Oliver to walk and peruse the character details. He was still level one in his first class and twenty in the other. Perhaps he had to use spells to get experience as a Star Mage. He closed the screen. Why did he care anyway? If the meaning of life is that it¡¯s just a game, why play? Especially since he wasn¡¯t supposed to have goals or ambitions.

    They balanced along an eroded section no more than a foot wide and took a break to settle their nerves.

    Cliff-dwellers emerged, moving over the terrain as if it were flat ground. Their appearances varied, but most had goat-like features. Oliver hated goat eyes, the way the pupil were squashed. One had bright yellow feathers and hopped on bird legs.

    A goat with girthy horns stepped forward, eyes dull, and face all angles. "We saw you clumsily climbing down to us. What brings you to the East Rim?"

    Oliver, against his better judgment, neared the goat. "We¡¯re looking for a way down." Again, he felt short as the bipedal goat towered over him.

    The goat studied them thoughtfully. "This is the only way unless you go far north or south, but very few pass through our city."

    "Can we?" Hunter interjected.

    "Wanting down isn¡¯t a satisfactory answer."

    A shadow passed over them. Three vulture-like monsters circled overhead. Oliver pointed. ¡°The best answer right now is we don¡¯t want our eyes pecked out by those creatures.¡±

    ¡°That will do for now.¡±

 CH6 New Objective

    Coda grunted as he used unaccustomed muscles, which rippled under the veiny gray-white skin. The System had kept the player strong enough, but he hadn¡¯t done so in years, so it felt like an out-of-body experience. ¡°I hate,¡± he said but didn¡¯t bother to complete the thought.

    The face of a figure leaned over him and showed teeth under transparent skin. It was a post-human creature, not a player, as the skin had grown over the hookups because they had rarely or never been used. ¡°We all hate appointments. Come, the Minister wants you at the R Dome.¡±

    What was worse than traveling in this sack of flesh? What could be so important that Coda must attend in person? It made no sense, and it gave him a headache. There¡¯s something I haven¡¯t felt in a long time.

    He swirled the throbbing temple, and he followed the naked figure and its protruding spine to the transport and ducked inside. The seat felt hard and cold on his skin, pressing on the black ports on his back.

    The transport shot through the tunnels into a glass tube, presenting the outside world. Under pondering cumulous clouds, the landscape hazed in the moist and smoky atmosphere. Massive bugs circled trees, the high exogen allowing them their size. Humanity abandoned this world when it didn¡¯t integrate into the System, so there were no objectives, rewards, progression, narratives, or anything but metal gardeners in unending wildlands.

    This was just a zoo for the Observer to watch.

    The rough interior of a mountain replaced the view, and the transport squealed as it slowed.

    The driver¡¯s headset tilted, but not enough to look back. ¡°Get out.¡±

    In any world but this one, Coda would have killed the driver. But he barely retained the strength to walk. He felt heavy, like once again feeling gravity after swimming.

    He scanned the vast hall. Robotic vehicles moved containers into and out of pods. Things flickered from poorly maintained lighting. No one knew what the Automation did besides make noise and tinker with flesh and metal.

    His ankle ached as he crossed the room. Did the interfaces really keep them healthy? He was eighty-seven and already falling apart¡ªor would he be replaced bit by bit until he was one of these creatures that haunted this world like ghosts?

    The elevator column rose upward into the darkness. He propped himself by the control panel and pressed the button only to have his fingernail crack and bleed.

    When the doors parted, a ragged creature rolled its eyes under heavy lids, and it looked him over. ¡°You should carry a gun. There¡¯s vermin, you know.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind,¡± Coda said, feeling uncomfortable at the sight. He felt so tired he propped himself while waiting for the other to shuffle out of the elevator. Finally, he entered and pressed three hundred.

    The Minister better have a good reason for this. I hate this fucking place.

    Ding. The doors opened, and a bright corridor met Coda. He raised a frail hand to blot out the light. Everyone wore goggles, but he¡¯d left them at his station.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    The hallway seemed to stretch forever and looked like a historic hotel reconstruction. He glimpsed himself in polish gold trim. He opened his mouth to see if he still had teeth, and he looked like a corpse with a tongue. The teeth appeared healthy, but damn, did he need a meal and some sunlight and maybe a facelift or three.

    A door opened, and a thing took up the space with limbs and sections like an insect. Its eyes were hidden behind a green sheet of glass. ¡°I was beginning to think you wouldn¡¯t make it.¡±

    ¡°I may not make the last few steps.¡±

    The Grand Minister held no amusement. ¡°Funny.¡±

    The room inside stood in stark contrast to the antique hallway¡ªtubes of green gurgled and wires ran in tidy bunches. The dark space was all technology and chemistry. Coda did not like either of these things. He preferred to be in a fantasy world like the one promised after the minuscule-to-colossus world the System queued.

    The insect-like man slammed an arm on a metal table. ¡°These extra arms aren¡¯t under my control half the time. The AIs do whatever they want with my body.¡±

    Coda slid into the chair by the table and rubbed his thigh''s thin, pale skin. The muscles trembled under his touch. Fuck this.

    ¡°Yes, sit. Let me bring up your file. Coda, eighty-seven, more trophies than I can count, and consistently the highest-ranked player.¡±

    ¡°Except here.¡±

    Mandibles opened and closed. ¡°Well, there¡¯s only one level here, and it¡¯s shit, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Why am I in your office talking about ranks?¡±

    ¡°We have an NPC problem.¡±

    Non-players were not a threat to anyone. ¡°Harmless.¡±

    ¡°If a player kills another player in the game, they respawn.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m aware. The System intervenes before there¡¯s too much damage to the mind and puts you somewhere else.¡±

    ¡°Well, when an NPC outside the parameters kills a player, it can cause brain injury or death?¡±

    ¡°Outside?¡±

    ¡°Yes, they¡¯re breaking protocol. Perhaps it¡¯s some kind of virus.¡±

    ¡°Just perform the Reset on the troublesome ones.¡±

    ¡°Even that might not work. Their memories persist, and they¡¯ve also found a way to retrieve old ones.¡±

    ¡°So, we¡¯ll go extinct, and they¡¯ll go on forever, mindlessly going through worlds.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s an answer to our survival: the Hard Reset. Every Category One NPC must be killed, and the Great Reset must be performed. The system will then erase all residual memories and produce clean-slate NPCs.¡±

    Coda shifted in his seat. A pressure restricted his breathing, and he focused on steady breaths. The body wasn¡¯t meant for stress. ¡°Impossible to kill them all. There are billions of them.¡±

    ¡°No, not Category One. There are only hundreds of thousands. You¡¯ll have to kill millions, though. Hell, billions if you want. Kill them all and let the System sort them out.¡±

    Coda wasn¡¯t going to argue. The man must have a plan. ¡°How?¡±

    ¡°What if you had a new class? A magic class stronger than all the others called the Void Mage.¡±

    A jolt of excitement ran through Coda, and he coughed. ¡°I¡¯m interested.¡± It wasn¡¯t long before he was hooked into a new interface. He lowered himself into the tube of ooze. He¡¯d long gotten used to the feeling of drowning, but the liquid kept him alive.

    Eel-like creatures swam to him and latched on, their toxins vital to the process. Their brains ran along their length, but their intelligence served a single purpose: to entangle him with a new body around a different sun.

    Then, he was in freefall above the minuscule-to-colossus world. The wind rushed up and rippled his face. The feeling of strength returned. A fresh, powerful body plummeted from the atmosphere. A valley appeared below him.

    He remembered feeling a thrill during freefall. Those days were long gone, but he still loved power, and this new class promised more than he¡¯d ever had.

 CH7 The Undercurrent of Reality

    Oliver followed the cliff-dwellers down the zigs and zags of the path. The vultures circled but didn¡¯t attack. And if they did, he was ready, even if using any spells scared him. If his aim was off, or if he did anything wrong, he could blow his companions and himself off the side. It would be a meat shower at the bottom of the cliffs.

    ¡°Welcome to Highside, ¡°The goat man said. The horns at the top of his polished stick shone in the light.

    The city clung to the incline like an old ship¡¯s barnacle. A maze of winding paths and wooden platforms creaked in the mountain breeze. The air was crisp, tinged with a scent like rain from the waterfalls, some so large they appeared in slow motion.

    They navigated looping pathways beside multistory buildings against the wall. Their footsteps crushed flaky rock beside crafts created by those who retained human hands. Some girls retained a well-developed human form, but Oliver could never get past the goat eyes.

    An old man peeked from a window and crawled out. He grabbed his back, straightened, and approached. He was perfectly human with no sign of any other animal mix, and his silver hair flowed over a worn cloak of woven cloth. Until now, all other clothing had been made of rough plant material or fur. His sharp eyes locked onto Oliver, and he stepped forward and grasped his arm with a firm grip. "Hoshan, I will take charge of our visitors.¡±

    ¡°Of course, Eldrin,¡± the goat man said. ¡°They¡¯re all yours. Be warned. I haven¡¯t determined their purpose.¡±

    Oliver exchanged a puzzled glance with Zaisy and Hunter when they were left alone with the old man. ¡°Can we help you?¡±

    The old man gestured toward an alcove shaded by overhanging rocks and a gnarled tree. "Please, it''s important.¡±

    Reluctantly, Oliver followed, his companions trailing closely behind. The alcove was lined with shelves carved into the stone, filled with jars of herbs and instruments that hinted at the man''s role as a healer among the cliff-dwellers.

    "My name is Eldrin," the man began. "I''ve been waiting a long time to meet someone like you."

    Oliver furrowed his brow. "Someone like me?"

    Eldrin grabbed his arm and refused to let go. "Tell me, have you ever questioned the nature of the world? Felt that things aren''t quite as they seem?"

    Oliver quit struggling and hesitated, not sure how much to share. "I have questions, that¡¯s for sure."

    Eldrin smiled knowingly. "I thought so. You''re clearly out of place, even if I didn¡¯t see it in your hesitation. I remember a life before this one. A life where I was a theoretical physicist. I studied the fundamental laws of the universe."

    Zaisy scrunched up her face in a sour look. "Watch out for this one, Oliver. I think he¡¯s trying to confuse you."

    "A seeker of truths," Eldrin continued as if she hadn¡¯t interjected. "I conducted experiments to understand reality itself. However, the results were unusual when I attempted to replicate those experiments¡ªthe double-slit experiment, for example. There was no superposition. No interference patterns."

    Oliver had a passing interest in the subject. "The uncertainty principle."

    "Yes, exactly," Eldrin said. "It''s as if this world doesn''t simulate quantum mechanics. Perhaps a more advanced simulation could, but this one didn¡¯t. No one believed me. Or, it was as if they couldn¡¯t hear me. I became an alcoholic and eventually wrapped my car around a tree. Now I¡¯m here. I¡¯m certain it¡¯s a series of simulations, one after the other."

    Hunter reached for Oliver, but the latter waved him away. "He¡¯s a madman, Oliver. It¡¯s just ramblings."

    "We''re anomalies," Eldrin said. "And anomalies may threaten whatever has created all this."

    Oliver shook his head. "How could I be a threat?" He told Eldrin everything he knew about his classes and his former life, at least everything necessary.

    Eldrin leaned back. "Perhaps you¡¯re a far greater anomaly than I am. Whatever you are, it''s beyond the standard parameters of this world."

    "How long have you been here?"

    "I¡¯ve been here years, though I grew old in the prior world. I met old acquaintances here, and they were young. I believe they¡¯re rejuvenated with each new cycle. I believe we¡¯ll die of old age and not continue indefinitely like the others."

    Oliver felt a knot form in his stomach. "So we¡¯re trapped mortals, and everyone else lives forever."

    "Precisely," Eldrin said.

    "What should I do?"

    "Continue to learn and pass it down to the next one like us," Eldrin advised. "I brought the Memory Stones to Tree City. I found them in the space between worlds when I woke up to my body being reassembled. Look for them if you find yourself there again."This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    Zaisy placed a reassuring hand on Oliver''s shoulder. "Does this make sense to you?"

    Hunter stood. "I think the old man gave him something to think about."

    Eldrin told them to be careful and said his farewell. Oliver asked him to accompany them, but the man¡¯s body was too old.

    They stepped back into the bustling pathways of the city. No one harassed them again, and they moved freely around. There was plenty of good food, but they needed something to trade. Some wanted special feathers or shells. Only when they offered to pull a cart back to a dwelling did they earn a meal, and though the chunks of meat and vegetables weren¡¯t hot, it tasted fantastic.

    This was a place where Oliver could spend his days. He finished the meal on an outcropping beside the mighty rush of a waterfall. The spray cooled him, and he lay back to take a nap. Hunter already snored and flopped side to side.

    Zaisy shook Oliver awake. ¡°Something¡¯s coming.¡±

    A tremor ran along the city, showering pebbles and causing landslides. A shadow crept near and blacked the sun. Alarms rang, and horns blasted, sending the residents scrambling.

    Oliver wondered if he¡¯d fallen asleep. He rubbed his eyes and looked up to see a colossal figure.

    The giant stood a thousand feet tall, its massive limbs swinging. Structures that once seemed imposing now looked like toys compared to the upper torso that filled Oliver¡¯s vision. The pupil of its eye was like a tractor wheel. The creature raised an arm and struck the cliff face, causing rock and timber to splinter and crack.

    "Run." Oliver grabbed Zaisy''s hand and pulled her away before a stone impacted where they¡¯d been.

    Hunter passed them. "Hurry. This whole place is going to go down." He led the way, his longer strides making quick work of the uneven terrain and onto a downward path.

    The trio navigated the crumbling structures, narrowly avoiding falling debris and panicked inhabitants.

    The colossus ruined buildings like a force of nature. It took a drink from a waterfall as if it were a drinking fountain. It seemed to lose interest in destruction and ascended to the land above.

    They didn¡¯t stop even to catch their breath.

    Oliver¡¯s shins were on fire from racing downhill.

    They fled as if a foot would come down on them at any time. Finally, far below the East Rim, they emerged into a forest where the air hung thick with moisture and the sounds of life.

    Oliver glanced back to see the giant walking along the cliff, laughing like crashing boulders.

    The trees parted to a lush valley. The grass here reached up to their waists, and the air was filled with the scent of wildflowers. Strange bees hopped from pedal to pedal. Streams striped the landscape, their waters gleaming in the sunlight.

    ¡°Watch this,¡± Oliver said and faced on the giant. The lumbering mass was blued with distance and walked at the rim.

    "What are you going to do?" Zaisy asked, her wings fluttering anxiously.

    ¡°Playing with fire,¡± Hunter mumbled.

    ¡°Let¡¯s see what the range is for Astral Lance. Stand back behind me. Far back.¡± The runes along the swordstaff glowed bright, and uncontrolled energy erupted from Oliver¡¯s hand, but this time it didn¡¯t explode against an unseen chameleon but came together to form a shard of light that shot high above the valley.

    The lance rushed over the trees and up to the rim to detonate against the colossus. It swung its head back and forth, looking for its origin. It looked at the valley as a whole and climbed down the cliffs.

    Oliver hid from view in case somehow the creature could spot his small form from so far away. "Oh shit. I think I hurt it a little."

    ¡°What¡¯s happening,¡± Hunter said. He shook his head as if trying to clear clouded thoughts. ¡°Something¡¯s not right. The world isn¡¯t right.¡±

    Oliver looked at Hunter, and the man had hands over his face. ¡°You¡¯re breaking the fourth wall.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s deal with it later.¡±

    They ventured deeper into the undergrowth and discovered a group of humanoid figures by a large river. These were the Fishers¡ªbeings with aquatic features, their skin shimmering with scales and their fingers webbed. They cast nets into the water and reeled in colorful fish.

    One of the fishers noticed the trio and waved. "Greetings, travelers! You look like you''ve been through quite an ordeal."

    "You could say that," Oliver replied, noticing rivelets of grim and dried blood about their persons. "A giant attacked the city above. We''re looking for a safe place."

    The fisher nodded sympathetically. "You''re welcome to stay here for a while. We were just about to prepare a meal. Care to join us?"

    Zaisy''s eyes lit up. "That would be wonderful, thank you!"

    The fishers set about cleaning and preparing one of the giant fish, its size dwarfing anything Oliver had ever seen, and he¡¯d seen some large catfish. They seasoned it with spices and cooked the filets over an open fire.

    As he savored the flavors, he felt the familiar warmth spread through his body. Each bite infused him with energy, strengthening his muscles and sharpening his senses.

    "This fish is incredible," Hunter remarked between mouthfuls. "I''ve never tasted anything like it."

    Zaisy giggled and wiped the juice from her chin. "We''re growing again!"

    Indeed, they were. By the time the meal was finished, they had increased in size, now comparable to horses. The world around them shifted in scale¡ªthe grass was now a carpet, and the trees didn¡¯t loom as they had.

    Oliver opened the screen. He noticed small marks that, when pushed, brought up extra information. ¡°Who designed this damn thing.¡±

    Hunter watched, now able to see what had been hidden from him.

    The Weapon Master class allowed Oliver to train fighters. And he could use any weapon, even if he¡¯d never trained with it before, at a high level of competence. The Star Mage class brought up an error screen¡ªat least, that¡¯s what he decided it was. A green bar now stood two-thirds full, and he guessed it might be his mana.

    One of the fishers approached, a concerned expression on his face. "I''m afraid I have some troubling news. Lookouts have reported that the giant is moving towards us."

    Hunter sighed heavily. "Of course it is."

    ¡°We¡¯ll be hiding in the mud along the banks.¡±

    Oliver laughed. "I don¡¯t think that will help us."

    Zaisy kicked at the damp ground. "We can¡¯t hold our breath like that."

    The ground vibrated, and the fishers buried themselves in mud or slipped into the water. Autumn leaves shook loose and snowed around them.

 CH8 Colossi

    The sun melted on the west mountains as Oliver sprinted between trees. The earth trembled beneath his feet with each thunderous step of the colossus behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to see it tearing through the landscape, its eyes fixed intently on him and his comrades.

    "We need to split up!" Hunter shouted, his voice strained as he pushed himself. ¡°It can¡¯t chase all three of us.¡± The wind whipped through his hair, and the weight of their earlier growth spurt made each movement more strenuous than before.

    Oliver found it awkward to run with the swordstaff. ¡°Why do people always want to split up? No, keep running.¡±

    The sound of the rushing current preceded the river. Beyond a rocky slide to the banks, the water reflected the sunset.

    "Oh no, the river," Zaisy said. "We¡¯re blocked."

    Oliver stepped onto the muddy bank. ¡°We go in.¡±

    Without hesitation, they waded into the current. The river''s roar came from upstream, where the river frothed over a would-be dam of fallen trees.

    Oliver plunged into the icy water, the shock stealing his breath for a moment before he resurfaced and tried to spot his friend. He felt a surge of hope when they appeared floating nearby. He felt the bottom of the staff drag on shallows.

    The banks moved faster than they could run. The idea to jump in had been sound, but how long could they stand the cold?

    The river swept around long bends where he couldn¡¯t see the threat. When he did see it again, the colossus straddled the river, its massive form silhouetted against the sky. For a moment, it seemed confused, scanning the water for any sign of them. Relief washed over Oliver as he drifted, the distance increasing.

    But the respite was brief. The giant began to follow the river''s course, its strides outpacing the flow. "It''s still after us!" Zaisy said through chattering teeth.

    Hunter swam towards the west bank, grabbed a protruding rock, and pulled himself out of the water. ¡°Hurry, it won¡¯t find us if we find cover in the forest.¡±

    Zaisy quickly extracted herself from the water. But with the swordstaff in hand, Oliver struggled to reach the bank. The whole time, the footfalls grew louder. He¡¯d need some kind of strap for the damn weapon if that would even help.

    Hunter''s eyes focused on something close to him but unseen. A faint glow lit his face.

    Oliver and Zaisy scrambled under the canopy beside him, confusion etched on their faces. "Is that what I think it is?" Oliver asked.

    Hunter continued in silence for a moment. "I have a class like you. Isn¡¯t that what you called it?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, like a game,¡± Oliver said.

    ¡°Not like any game I know. Well, it¡¯s Shadow Rogue." He flexed his fingers, and wisps of dark purple coiled around them. "I have some sort of magic called Shadow Meld."

    Zaisy fell flat on her back. "I¡¯m starting to understand you guys, which worries me."

    Oliver wiped the blade of his staff on his arm. He didn¡¯t know much about caring for such a thing, but he wasn¡¯t going to let it rust out. ¡°I know this isn¡¯t the time or place to tell you guys, but we¡¯re NPCs. We¡¯re here just to make things more interesting for player characters. That colossus back there is probably one of them.¡±

    ¡°I have no idea what you just said.¡± Hunter''s eyes suddenly went wide.

    A massive face peered down from the sky.

    Zaisy scrambled to her feet. ¡°Run.¡±

    Hunter spoke between gasps as they barreled forward. My abilities will let me lead it away. It might be our only shot." Without waiting for a response, he veered away and called to the colossus after him.

    ¡°Idiot,¡± Oliver muttered. He couldn¡¯t let the man die.

    Hunter led it for a while and magically melded it into the shadows. His form appeared and disappeared, making it impossible to follow his path.

    But the colossus wasn¡¯t slowed. It stamped a foot ahead and almost crushed Hunter.

    Oliver''s heart pounded in his chest. "Hunter, we¡¯ll find another way!" The ground shook violently, knocking him off balance.

    Hunter reappeared momentarily from the top of a boulder, waving his arms. "Over here, you oversized oaf.¡± He had nearly died twice, and still, he played with the monster.

    The giant''s gaze snapped toward the sound, and it crushed the bounder.

    Zaisy wilted. "He''s dead,"

    Oliver clenched his fists, a swirl of emotions crashing over him. "This goddamn giant." The runes on his swordstaff began to glow as he gathered his magic. He felt the energy vortex rush through him, the unsettling sensation of power.

    Oliver raised his weapon, positioning himself with a clear line of sight. "Astral Lance, " he said, focusing all his intent on the giant''s Achilles tendon. A beam of concentrated starlight burst forth, slicing through the air.

    The blast struck the giant right where he¡¯d aimed, causing it to yelp and stumble. It teetered precariously before losing balance altogether. It fell like the world¡¯s largest tree in a slow, inevitable descent. The ground quaked violently as it impacted, the back of its head colliding with a jagged rocky hill. A resounding crack echoed through the valley, and a cloud of dust billowed into the air.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    Hunter emerged from the shadows, breathing heavily and coughing in the dust. "You didn''t have to do that."

    Zaisy ran over and hugged him. ¡°We thought you were dead.¡±

    Oliver lowered his weapon, his hands trembling from the exertion. "I wasn''t going to let you get all the glory."

    Zaisy eyed the mountain of flesh. "Is it dead?"

    They approached cautiously and walked to where its head lay. Blood seeped from the wound, pooling deep enough to swim in. Oliver exhaled slowly, tension easing from his muscles. "I think we did it."

    But a low groan rumbled from the giant''s chest like the sound of an avalanche. Its fingers twitched, and its eyes flickered open. it began to rise, pushing itself up with one massive hand.

    "You got another spell?" Hunter asked.

    Oliver backed away. ¡°I got lucky with that one.¡±

    The giant rose and rose and rose, albeit unsteadily. Dirt raining down in clumps.

    Oliver''s mind raced. They couldn¡¯t run forever.

    They scattered in different directions as the giant''s foot came crashing down where they had stood. The impact sent shockwaves through the ground, knocking them off their feet. Oliver scrambled to stand, but the giant was already preparing for another stomp.

    "We can''t outrun it this time," Zaisy cried out. ¡°It was nice knowing you guys.¡±

    An eerie stillness blanketed the valley as if time had frozen. The giant paused mid-step, its foot hovering over them.

    Oliver felt a chill run down his spine, and he didn¡¯t know why. "What''s happening?" he said, looking to his companions.

    ¡°Who cares,¡± Hunter said, waving them into a patch of trees.

    They huddled under an oak and tried to stay quiet while they searched the sky where the colossus gazed.

    Far above the treetops, a figure emerged. It was a man, unassuming in stature, smaller than Oliver himself. He wore normal clothing. Yet, a sense of emptiness and dread radiated from him. His companions could feel it, too, by the look of their wide eyes.

    Oliver''s heart sank as he sensed the immense power emanating from the stranger.

    "I am Coda," the man said in a voice that boomed unnaturally as if declaring it to the entire world. He raised a hand toward the colossus. Tendrils of darkness shot forth, intertwining and spiraling around the massive being. ¡°I¡¯m gathering a team for the Great Reset. But not you, Jaydeck.¡±

    The giant roared in defiance, but tendrils restrained its movements. They pierced its skin, spreading like webs. In an instant, the giant imploded, fragments of flesh and bone collapsed. All that remained was gore save a severed hand and a few large bones.

    Zaisy covered her mouth, eyes wide with horror. "I feel sick," she said.

    Coda waved a hand, and Highside crumbled. Thousands must have died in that moment. A cold smile played on his lips. "Such power.¡±Another round of black tendrils exploded along the river, probably finding villages. The valley descended into chaos, with far-off cries filling the air.

    "Stop," Oliver shouted, but his voice carried no further than to his companions.

    Hunter gritted his teeth. "We can''t let this happen.¡±

    Oliver''s eyes fell upon the giant''s severed hand. "It¡¯s time for a meal." He dashed toward it, the others following close behind. The hand was enormous, but the flesh seemed to emanate residual energy.

    "It¡¯s raw," Zaisy said, poking at it. "I can¡¯t chew that."

    Oliver cut a flap open with the swordstaff.

    They ate despite the taste and texture. A familiar warmth surged as they consumed the giant''s hand. Their bodies grew, muscles expanding, limbs elongating. In moments, they stood as colossi themselves, towering above the treetops.

    Oliver flexed his hands, now strong enough to pulverize mountains. The ground felt different beneath his feet. The land sagged under his weight as if it were mud. Tree crunched like weeds underfoot. "It¡¯s time to rampage this motherfucker," he said, and his voice came out slurred and booming.

    All the other times they¡¯d grown, their proportions remained the same, but perhaps to withstand gravity, they were stockier¡ªand ugly.

    Coda flew higher to remain above them, but his expression never changed. "We meet again," he stared at Oliver. "The system created you to balance the difficulty, but it gave you a flaw. Your mother disfigures you in every world, and it seems to hold you back. It¡¯s too bad, I love a challenge. But this time, you¡¯re more pathetic than ever. I¡¯ve defeated you a thousand times, but this will be the easiest."

    Oliver raised his swordstaff, the runes along its length flickering weakly. It had grown larger than it would be possible to find a tree to corve it will, and the blade would take an entire mine¡¯s worth of metal. ¡°I don¡¯t know you.¡±

    ¡°This is why I hate NPCs.¡±

    Oliver knew he¡¯d been a warrior from the Memory Sphere. What else had he been? All he remembered was his previous life, a conscious life where he couldn¡¯t even get laid, much less attain anything. He was pathetic. No, maybe he could prove himself here and now.

    Coda watched with a detached curiosity. "Go on, then. Throw the first punch.¡±

    With a roar, Oliver unleashed Starlight Beam. The plasma surged toward Coda, illuminating the valley in a blinding flash.

    Everything distorted around Coda. The background moves in waves, rippling like a pond. The man vanishes in the attack. The beam split, mowing trees bare from the earth and then cutting through Zaisy. His attack left her without her upper body.

    Oliver crashed to his knees and looked up to see where his enemy had been. To his dismay, Coda stood unchanged, a faint aura of darkness around him. "My turn."

    Go ahead and do it. I don¡¯t care.

    It had all been for nothing. She died because of his damn spells.

    Coda vanished from sight. A sharp pain pierced Oliver''s chest as Coda reappeared, his hand plunged into Oliver''s as if the flesh were clay. Agony exploded like fireworks.

    Oliver flopped back and gasped. He couldn¡¯t pull air into his lungs.

    Coda hovered over him, his expression devoid of emotion. "If you have any dignity, you won¡¯t be reborn again."

    As darkness closed in, Oliver''s thoughts scattered. Regret, fear, and a lingering question of purpose swirled within him.

    Suddenly, he was enveloped in a blinding white light. The pain ceased, replaced by a numbness that was neither comforting nor alarming. When his vision cleared, he found himself lying on the familiar cold surface of the white reaper''s table.

    The sterile room had too much light. He squinted at the reaper. "I don¡¯t want to come back.¡±

    The reaper observed him silently, its presence neither welcoming nor hostile.

    Zaisy would be waking up somewhere in this in-between world. ¡°Where¡¯s Zaisy?¡±

    The reaper didn¡¯t reply.

    Oliver sat up after an hour, just laying there. ¡°I have a question. I met a physicist. He said there¡¯s no superposition. Is this all virtual reality? Tell me it¡¯s all programming.¡±

    "There¡¯s no uncertainty because of the Observer, which sees all. Everything you experienced is quite real.¡± The reaper came to the bedside. ¡°I have your companions¡¯ memories right here.¡±

 CH9 Adrift

    The afterlife disappeared, and dense fog replaced it. Oliver stood on wooden planks. Rope strands filled the gaps between boards like grout between tiles. They pitched upward, and he crouched with both hands on his swordstaff to avoid falling backward.

    Spray hit his face when everything dipped and surged again. ¡°Where are we?¡± The only sound around him was splashing water and the creak of timbers. The only smell was of fish and tar.

    Mist swirled and parted to reveal three masts. Sails furled, tugged up by ghostly shapes moving in the gray. They climbed rigging and balanced on spars. They moved about their duties, their faces obscured, seemingly unaware of Oliver''s appearance.

    Beside him stood the reaper, its form shrouded in velvety white robes. In its skeletal hand, it held two glowing spheres¡ªthe memory spheres of Zaisy and Hunter. The orbs pulsed, casting shadows along the reaper''s hollow-eyed skull. "Take them. They¡¯re somewhere in this world."

    Oliver reached out hesitantly, his fingers closing around the cool surfaces of the spheres. "Will they remember me?" he asked, searching the reaper''s unchanging visage.

    Water ran down the bare cheekbones. "I don¡¯t know. They were becoming aware, but their bodies were heavily damaged." The reaper gestured to where the moon glowed behind the pall and out around the rolling waves. "Of all the worlds, this is my favorite. You¡¯ve done well in places like this before. This is far more complex than the last one."

    Oliver nodded slowly, absorbing the weight of the reaper''s words. "What is my class?¡±

    "I don¡¯t know," the reaper said. "I think it¡¯s unique to you. When you were designed, there was interest. But you never lived up to your potential."

    A gust of wind swept across the deck, dispersing the lingering fog. The ship became clearer. They stood far at the stern and could see all the way to the bowsprit.

    ¡°I want to do better.¡±

    The reaper glowed as moonbeams broke through the sky. ¡°Perhaps you only lay dormant, and now you¡¯re ready. That¡¯s an interesting thought. Your body has stopped resetting, and you¡¯ll grow old and die. Maybe the best thing you can do is make a home here and live out your days.¡±

    A sudden shout pierced the air. "Angel of Death!" A sailor stood frozen near the mast, his eyes wide with fear as he stared directly at the reaper. The commotion drew the attention of others, all with mouths agape.

    The reaper handed a small crystal to Oliver, and then began to fade. "Crush it if you need me to heal.¡±

    Oliver began to ask what he meant, but the reaper vanished.

    The crew approached and cast nervous glances, darting between Oliver and the spot where the reaper had stood. The sailor who had spoken stopped. "Is he a wizard?"

    Before Oliver could respond, the captain approached.

    He was a stout man with a stern visage as if he¡¯d taken thirty years of storms directly to the face. He wore a faded blue coat adorned with brass buttons. "Who are you?" the captain demanded. "And how did you come to be on my ship?"

    Oliver straightened, meeting the captain''s gaze. "I¡¯m Oliver. I mean no harm. I just boarded unexpectedly."

    The captain''s brow furrowed. "Demons, Ay? My crew speaks of omens and apparitions." He glanced at the sailors, who stood close behind him. "Are you human?"

    "Yes. I''m just a traveler. I can leave at your first stop." He tried to keep a confident tone, but the last sentence came out close to a question.

    The captain regarded him for a long moment before nodding curtly. "Very well, but I¡¯ll have no trouble on my ship." He gestured, and sailors took the swordstaff. "We''re bound for Credola. But I don¡¯t give free passage. Not even to my own blood kin. You¡¯ll have to work, which we have aplenty, even for a landlubber."

    Oliver nodded in acknowledgment. "Thank you, captain."

    ¡°Captain Hache. Now,¡± He turned to a boy in a coat. ¡°See that he finds a place on the morning watch. I need no wondering wizards on my ship.¡±

    Oliver exhaled slowly as the captain turned away, barking orders to the crew to return to their duties. Somehow, this felt much more real than the last world, and it drained his confidence. He patted the orbs in his pouch, their weight comforting. He had his friends with him.

    ¡°You¡¯re a wizard?¡± the boy asked.

    ¡°N¡­ yeah, I suppose I am.¡±

    ¡°Awesome. We¡¯re like a military ship now. Can you make the wind blow?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Well, what kind of wizard are you?¡±

    The boy showed him a hammock on a lower deck in the dark. The air smelled musty, and he was pretty sure it was infested.

    He lay in the hammock with his eyes open in the dark.

    The fog burned away in the morning, and the sea stretched out forever on all sides. The sight took his mind off the more depressing thoughts, and he wondered why he didn¡¯t just threaten the captain. He could sink this ship if he wanted to, which might have gotten him comfy quarters to sleep in.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Have you ever worked a day in your life?¡± the boy said.

    Oliver tugged on the rope for the thousandth time. ¡°I¡¯ve done work that would suck the soul right out of you.¡±

    The boy shut up, probably taking his words literally.

    However, he¡¯d never worked like this. Sure, he considered himself strong but had no gloves, and his hands burned. The sailors were machines, hauling rope for four hours to the jaunting rhythm of song.

    After all that, the meal consisted of hard bread crawling with bugs, and the crew didn¡¯t appear happy about it any more than he was.

    After a few bites, he moved to the ship''s railing, resting his hands on the salt-crusted wood. The rhythmic rise and fall of the waves eased his thoughts but not his stomach. Gulls cried overhead, and the crew settled back into their routines under them.

    "Credola?" he asked, spotting a distant shoreline.

    ¡°Nope,¡± the boy said. ¡°That¡¯s an island.¡±

    The days at sea were long, the horizon an unchanging line between the rolling waves and the expansive sky. The sun beat down relentlessly, and tempers among the crew began to fray like old rope. They whispered on the scuttles and scowled behind the captain''s back.

    One evening, as the sun dipped low and painted the sky with hues of red and purple, Oliver sat at the bow, taking a shit. Nearby on the bow, two sailors murmured in low voices, and the metal of a knife glinted at one¡¯s side.

    "He''s leading us to ruin," one said, his face shadowed beneath a tattered cap. "We¡¯re starving, and he¡¯s going to come out of it rich as an elf."

    The other nodded. "While we scrape by, he dines in comfort and laughs at our misery."

    Oliver pretended not to listen, but their words weighed on him. The captain had seemed increasingly distant, his commands brusque, and his door guarded. The crew''s morale was sinking faster than the setting sun.

    As darkness enveloped the ship that night, the murmurs turned to murmurs no more.

    A gathering formed on the lower deck. The sailors huddled together, their faces illuminated by the flickering glow of a lantern.

    Oliver lingered at the edge.

    A burly man named Rurak spoke, his voice rough like the sea outside. "I know a man who¡¯ll empty our hold and ask no questions. We won¡¯t get full price, but we won¡¯t swing from the gallows either."

    Reluctantly, they all agreed to the man¡¯s plans.

    Rurak''s eyed each man in the assembly. "We do it quick. We do it now."

    It was mutiny.

    Oliver felt a knot tighten in his stomach. He was not loyal to the captain and didn¡¯t know him, but he just wanted to get off this ship in one piece. Before he could decide whether to intervene, perhaps scare them with magic, the mob moved, swarming the captain''s quarters. The sound of boots pounding on wood echoed ominously.

    ¡°They¡¯re going to kill him,¡± the boy said.

    From what Oliver had pierced together, this whole thing, this whole universe, was nothing but an arrangement between the Observer and Universal Constructor.

    He shouldn¡¯t care about the lives around him, but he did. He followed the mob.

    The door to the captain''s cabin burst open under the force of a heavy boot. The captain sprang to his feet, eyes wide with shock. "What¡¯s this?" he demanded, drawing a curved blade. ¡°Who¡¯s the first to die?¡±

    Rurak held a sword and prowled forward. "Your time¡¯s up."

    The captain met steel with steel. ¡°You fools. All of you knew the course was dangerous. We ran low on supplies, and it¡¯s no more my fault than the next man''s.¡±

    The captain danced back and forth as the two fought. "I¡¯m taking you with me, Rurak."

    Oliver recognized the sword forms. He recognized when the captain baited or when Rurak fainted. They broadcasted their next move, and neither took advantage properly.

    They appeared as clumsy with swords as Oliver was with a rope, and he stood almost mesmerized watching the duel.

    A sailor with a look of glee grabbed the captain from behind. Rurak swung, and the captain''s throat opened in a bubble of blood. A hush fell over the room as the captain gargled.

    Rurak wiped the blade on a cloth, his expression unreadable. "It''s done," he announced to the gathered crew. "Prepare to set sail."

    The crew stepped around the captain as they dispersed. Oliver retreated, wanting to break the crystal and summon the reaper to heal the wound, but the crew would only murder him again.

    The cool night air filled his lungs when he leaned over the rail at the quarterdeck. The stars overhead glittered.

    The boy stood beside him. ¡°They killed him. And it wasn¡¯t even a fair fight.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry you had to see that.¡± The words seemed like what an adult should say to a youth who witnessed that.

    ¡°That¡¯s nothing. I¡¯m always the first to watch them swing at the gallows. I just wanted to see a fair fight between the two.¡±

    As the first light of dawn crept over the horizon. Those who hadn¡¯t seen the city stood in awe on the forecastle.

    Oliver was used to skyscrapers, but still, the city took him aback. It was a sprawling metropolis of towering spires and intricate bridges, glimmering white stone before rugged mountains. ¡°Credola?¡±

    ¡°No other,¡± a sailor responded.

    The details of the city''s architecture became apparent as the ship entered the calm waters of the harbor.

    A lace of walkways connected whitewashed towers topped with gold.

    Ships crowded the harbor, and Rurak shouted orders. The man at the whipstaff pulled and pushed, and the ship threaded through.

    Oliver snuck to the captain¡¯s door. He wanted his weapon back and meant to depart as soon as they docked.

    Two armed men stood guard, arms folded. They eyed him but didn¡¯t seem worried. ¡°What do you want?¡± one said.

    ¡°I want my stuff.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not going through this door.¡±

    Oliver reached out like a whip and took one sword from the scabbard. The other drew and lunged, but he battered the blade away and let the tip hover near the other¡¯s Adam''s apple. ¡°Stand aside.¡±

    ¡°Be my guest,¡± the guards said, and as soon as Oliver entered the cabin, they shouted.

    Oliver couldn¡¯t see well in the gloom, but the swordstaff gleamed on the wall. He took it and smiled. It felt so good in the hands.

    The door slammed open, and Rurak stood in the doorway. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t let you leave. We don¡¯t need anyone spreading scuttlebutt around the city about this little mutiny.¡±

    The guards entered the room. The one was armed again and angry.

    But Oliver had seen them fight and wasn¡¯t worried. He whipped the swordstaff around, careful in the confined space not to lodge it into the bulwarks. The reach advantage overcame the disadvantage of numbers. And he was amazed at how precise the weapon danced in his hands.

    The three stood panting and disarmed and holding shallow cuts.

    Oliver stepped past them. ¡°I¡¯ll be leaving. And if you call the whole crew against me, I¡¯ll show you what kind of magic I have up my sleeve.¡±

    Rurak let go of his forearm. ¡°You¡¯re bluffing.¡±

    ¡°Try me.¡±

 CH10 The Crimson Pike Guild

    The cobblestone streets of Credola led Oliver into a maze. All around him, intricate stone buildings raked the sky. It was worse than any city he¡¯d been to. All the streets were too narrow and too meandering. More than once, a similar archway and adorned facades made him suspect he¡¯d gone in surcles.

    A broad stairway led to a garden around a massive knife-shaped tower with no windows, only smooth stone. He saw a group of tall, graceful elves who moved through the path between flowering plants with an air of superiority. At least that¡¯s the vibe he got from them.

    A man in a fine coat with lace around the neck tried to get one¡¯s attention, and the elf said, ¡°I will not be bothered by boorish human chatter today.¡±

    The man mopped his face with his hand and walked away, muttering.

    The elves passed without a glance at Oliver. They wore loose, silken garments, and their eyes seemed ancient and knowing.

    His stomach rumbled. He¡¯d hardly touched the ship¡¯s hardtack. If it weren¡¯t for the food fest that was the last world, he¡¯d probably be dead.

    The gardens rose on an incline until a view of the westernmost part of the city lay before him. From the forest of masts at the harbor to the rugged mountains, he could tell he¡¯d never be able to navigate the city.

    He opened the player screen and found the familiar Star Mage and Weapons Master pages, but he still got an error screen for anywhere else he tried to go. This Universal Constructor could create worlds but not a functioning UI. Figures.

    Sometime in the afternoon, he found himself at a bustling market. Merchants hawking their wares mingled with melodies played on lutes and flutes. The aroma of spiced meats and baked bread wafted through the air, making his empty stomach clench like a fist.

    With nowhere to be and nowhere to go, he ended up sitting against the foundation of an overhanging building at the corner. A drunk man kept trying to strike up a conversation, and Oliver gave in and asked about the elves.

    The man pointed to a litter, a long windowed box carried by a dozen men. ¡°They won¡¯t ride horses, they say. No, a beast is too dirty. Too smelly.¡±

    ¡°Is there some kind of caste here?¡±

    The man gave him a puzzled look. ¡°A what?¡±

    ¡°Are people separated by what they can do in the city?¡±

    ¡°Oh, yeah, I suppose. The elves are rich. Beyond rich. They say it¡¯s because they live so long. They sit around all day at temples and council meetings. Good old humans like us don¡¯t get to do much of running things unless we¡¯re born noble.¡±

    Perhaps the man being drunk was good. Oliver didn¡¯t want to come off as if he knew nothing of the world, but this guy wouldn¡¯t remember. ¡°Are there kings?¡±

    ¡°Not in Credola. Not really anywhere south of here either. They say the elves pull the strings, and the kings and queens are puppets.¡±

    Two younger men leaned against a nearby wall within earshot. They were listening. One kept an eye on the litter that halted at a textile shop to let the elves pursue the yards of cloth. "Taxes are going up. You can¡¯t shit without a tax on it."

    The other added, "They live for centuries, amassing wealth while we struggle to get by. It''s not fair."

    This place was about to boil over. Oliver thought of the mutiny and couldn¡¯t imagine a whole city descending into violence.

    A sharp pang of hunger reminded him of his immediate concern. The market stalls brimmed with ripe fruits, vegetables, meats, and bread. He had no money and no choice.

    He left the conversation and edged closer to the food, trying to appear inconspicuous amid the crowd. A stout woman argued with a customer who over-fondled the food at a wagon full of red fruit. Seizing the moment, Oliver''s hand darted out, snatched two, put them in his pocket, and withdrew. He followed the flow of pedestrians, heart pounding in his chest. I haven¡¯t stolen since that pack of gum as a child.

    "Stop, thief!" the woman''s voice struck like a whip.

    Oliver didn¡¯t want to break into a full run. That might have drawn more attention than her shouting. He wove through the crowd at a brisk pace. However, the shouts pursued, and he sped up. They were right behind him. He rolled under a wagon and headed into a narrow alleyway. He pressed himself against the cold stone wall. He took out a fruit and bit into it¡ªsweet heaven.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    He sank to the ground, devouring the rest and tossing the pits. He wiped the juice from his chin. "I need more," he said to himself, his stomach still growling.

    He rose to his feet. The murky alley mirrored his prospects. Determined, he resolved to find honest work. There had to be a way to earn a living in this city.

    But he had no skills. How would he do the simplest thing, like sell food? All those vendors had carts, ovens, money to buy flour, and all that. Hell, he never made anything from scratch, anyway. He started wandering as he thought.

    Dim light filtered through narrow gaps. The allies ran beside and behind the large buildings. A huddled figure, wrapped in a blanket, sat against a brick wall.

    The man''s hard eyes caught his own. "It¡¯s best to stay out of the alleys," the stranger said, a hint of a smirk on his weathered face. No, not a smirk, but a scar that turned one lip upward.

    "I don¡¯t have anything. I¡¯m thinking what I can do for work," Oliver said, unsure why he felt compelled to answer.

    The man chuckled dryly. "Work, eh? What are you good at?¡±

    ¡°Nothing.¡±

    ¡°In that case, I¡¯d hang around the rougher alehouses until someone kidnaps you and puts you on a ship."

    Oliver leaned against the wall. ¡°I had a taste of that life. It wasn¡¯t for me.¡±

    ¡°Well, then, sell that strange staff and live off that for a while.¡±

    The swordstaff had become so comfortable in Oliver¡¯s hands that he hardly noticed it anymore. ¡°You think this is worth a lot?¡±

    ¡°Look at the metalwork, the jewel, the etching¡ªit¡¯s certainly worth a hefty chunk of gold.¡±

    ¡°You won¡¯t try to take it from me even if it¡¯s worth so much?¡±

    The man moved the blanket to reveal a stump where his leg should be. ¡°I worked for the Crimson Pike Guild for years. I guess I should have put back a little money, but I never planned to have a troll smash my leg and start gnawing on it.¡±

    Oliver spun the swordstaff¡ªsuch a perfect masterwork. Whatever the Memory Sphere did to him, it made him appreciate a weapon that was alive in his hands. ¡°I¡¯m going to go sell it and return with a hot meal.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t owe me anything.¡±

    It was true, but the man had given Oliver an idea that would put food on the table for quite some time. He walked in circles from the alleys into the markets in the surroundings. Blacksmiths made weapons, but who sold them? After searching, he found merchants selling swords, spears, and bows, but none as ornate as his swordstaff. One wanted to trade, and another offered silver. Even if he didn¡¯t trust the stranger in the alley, the merchants had a restrained eagerness when they examined the swordstaff that betrayed its worth.

    ¡°Stop him,¡± someone shouted.

    Were they still chasing Oliver this far away? He glanced around and saw an armored man covered in blood. Two people chaced the man. One shouted again. ¡°Murderer.¡±

    Oliver walked away from the merchant and stood in the path of the bloodied man. He twirled the swordstaff and pointed it forward.

    The man stood a head again as tall as Oliver and at least twice as broad. He gripped two swords and leaped forward. ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll kill all of you.¡± His long reach let him counter the advantage of the staff¡¯s length.

    Oliver retreated from the assault, keeping the blades at a distance. They were locked in a dance of death for what felt like an eternity, where a misplaced step would lead to disaster. Finally, one sword skittered across the cobblestones. ¡°It¡¯s over.¡±

    The man knew it and dropped the other blade.

    The two approached. They wore pins on their shirts¡ªlittle red pikes.

    He followed them as they escorted the criminal to double doors adorned with the Crimson Pike Guild emblem.

    The tall one with the pin talked about what they did for a living. A nobleman hired them as bodyguards for their current mission. Unfortunately, the criminal snuck past them and assassinated their client. ¡°The guild will take anyone who can pass the tests but don''t expect easy coin. The pay''s bad, and the work''s dangerous."

    Oliver regarded the building thoughtfully. It was large and square and must take in a lot of money. "What other kind of mission do you do?"

    "Mercenary stuff. Guarding caravans, moving gold, sometimes less savory tasks." His gaze sharpened. "But there¡¯s no refusing work. Lord Heron asks you to do something, you do it or you¡¯re out."

    "I see," Oliver said, determination hardening his resolve.

    The man shrugged. "Suit yourself. Better men than you have tried their luck and found none."

    Pushing open the heavy oak door, Oliver walked in with the two members and the captive. Flickering lanterns dimly lit the interior, and the odor of smoke and sweat hung in the air. Tables and benches filled the hall, and a few people sat drinking mugs of ale.

    A gruff voice called out from behind a desk. "Another one?"

    Oliver approached and waited for them to fill out paperwork and for them to take the captive in a back room. "I¡¯d like to join the guild.¡±

    ¡°Yep, it is another one. You¡¯ll be the third today and the third to leave with your tail tucked between your legs.¡± Then, the man spoke in a commanding voice. ¡°Weapons by the door.¡±

    Oliver put his swordstaff on a rack and scrawled his name.

    The man¡¯s tone sounded so bored that he must have wanted to do anything else but this. "Do you have any experience fighting, stealth, or bookkeeping?" He glanced at Oliver''s messy signature. ¡°Can you fight or burgle?¡±

    "I can handle myself," Oliver said. ¡°I seem to have a nack with weapons.¡±

    The man leaned forward, his gaze piercing. "Is that so? Do you want the hard test?"

    Oliver didn¡¯t want to say no and be considered an exaggerator or coward. Well, maybe he was those things. His stomach felt tied in knots. ¡°Sure.¡±

    ¡°Come back tomorrow as soon as the sun¡¯s up.¡±

 CH11 Trials and Titillations

    Oliver spent the night in the alleyway. He¡¯d fallen asleep only an hour ago and would have slept through the morning if he hadn¡¯t opened his eyes in the predawn by luck. The Crimson Pike Guild building stood on the quiet street. Only a few carts and chickens made any noise. Only his aching stomach prodded him to grab the iron loop and knock.

    A hatch in the door opened. ¡°Yes,¡± croaked a woman¡¯s voice.

    ¡°I¡¯m here for the trails.¡±

    ¡°A tad early, aren¡¯t you?¡± The door opened. ¡°Have a seat. Weapon at the door.¡±

    He sat at a bench, laid his head on his arms, and drifted asleep. When he awoke, the main hall buzzed with activity.

    A line of three formed on one wall, and a man looked at the trio of dirty faces. ¡°Is this everyone?¡±

    Oliver realized with panic that maybe that¡¯s the candidates, and he should be standing there with them. Or maybe not. No one had told him, but then again, he had been fast asleep. He wiped drool from his mouth and staggered over to the wall. ¡°Is this for the trails?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± the man said. ¡°My name is Lord Heron, and this is an adventurer¡¯s guild. This is my guild. Perhaps you¡¯ve heard terrible things about the place. I can tell you, they¡¯re probably all true. What makes us different? We take candidates right off the street. That means you¡¯ll spend years on mundane missions, but you¡¯ll work your way up. Maybe your dreams will come true someday, and I¡¯ll send you after dragon eggs.¡± He pivoted on his heel and looked them over. ¡°And maybe not.¡±

    A skinny kid raised a hand partway and asked, ¡°Will we learn to fight?¡±

    ¡°Where else will a poor kid like you learn from a weapon¡¯s master? Yes, we¡¯ll take you as far as you can go.¡±

    I¡¯m a weapon¡¯s master. Maybe he could skip years of mundane work. He was starting to see why this was the reaper¡¯s favorite world.

    ¡°Let me get to the point. You¡¯ll get three tests. You must excel at only one. We just want to see some potential in you. I wish you all luck. Master Lumpo.¡±

    A man with a monocle stepped forward. ¡°Let¡¯s get right to it then, shall we? Follow me.¡± He guided them back to the seating area. He laid out sheets of parchment and a few bottles of ink. "Copy the first page from this tome. I will judge your accuracy and penmanship."

    Oliver took a quill and settled in at the long bench alongside other candidates. He couldn¡¯t remember the last time he¡¯d written anything on paper. Everything was digital. The book''s first page held elegant, looping handwriting, and notations crowded every line. He couldn¡¯t read more than every other word. The letters ran together, and some looked backward.

    He dipped the quill into the ink and scratched a line on the parchment. It looked terrible. Ink dripped along one corner, smudging under his palm as he moved across the page. Frustration built as he tried to steady his hand and not touch anything.

    A splatter of ink dotted the table. His hands were stained by the time he finished.

    Lumpo strode by, peering over shoulders. When he reached Oliver, he raised an eyebrow but said nothing, moving on with a slight shake of his head.

    "Not bad," Oliver said, holding up his work and wiping his hands on his pants.

    Lumpo looked at each in turn and held up Oliver¡¯s. ¡°Do you know what¡¯s worse than an education? A miseducation. It¡¯s easier to teach what¡¯s new than break bad habits.¡± He paused. ¡°Can you tell me why you removed all the long Ss?¡±

    ¡°I thought they were Fs.¡±

    A disapproving noise came from Lumpo¡¯s throat. ¡°I see. Well, only Robert passed the test.

    The youth smiled with pride. Underserved, really.

    Lumpo paused the work and then crumpled it. ¡°Well, on to the next test. Now, we¡¯ll see how sneaky you can be. Upstairs, you must find a guild pin. Beware, if Cosim catches you before all three of you have gone, then we¡¯ll reschedule the whole test. So do us all a favor and don¡¯t screw up."

    Oliver noticed several guild members exchanging amused glances. Something about this test wasn¡¯t right. He opened the screen and pursued it covertly. He learned nothing new. Too bad Hunter wasn¡¯t with him. This was his specialty.

    "Who''s Cosima?" Robert asked.

    "You''ll find out." Lumpo smacked the kid on the back. "You first, then. Get upstairs and find it."

    The joists overhead creaked a few times. A man sitting beside the stairs gave a gap-toothed grin.

    After ten minutes, Robert descended the steps, looking ghostly. ¡°I couldn¡¯t find it.¡±Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    The other candidate looked a bit older. His name was Gorm. He said he hunted back before kobalts burned his family farm and had a light foot. The joists never clicked but never creaked. However, he too returned. ¡°I have no idea where the pin is.¡±

    Oliver faced them. ¡°What¡¯s up there?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll find out,¡± the skinny one said and elbowed the other.

    Determined to find out what all the comedy was about, Oliver crept up the staircase. It opened in the middle of an empty room with locked doors, except a double door that stood ajar. He pushed open the heavy oak and peeked inside. He saw no danger, so he slipped in and stayed close to the wall, hoping the joists wouldn¡¯t sound.

    An open door stood to either side. Straight ahead, a window looked over the courtyard at the center of the building. He expected a garden, but only a sand square filled the courtyard.

    Furniture and chairs lined the room. He rifled through drawers but found nothing. He snuck through a doorway and found a storage room, but no pin.

    Finally, he entered a smoky room. Inside, he saw long hair and naked shoulders sticking out of a tub of water. A woman was taking a bath.

    These bastards hid the pin somewhere inside. Did Robert or Gorm even try? Well, he would.

    She hummed and splashed water. The soaps she used and the herbs burning perfumed the air.

    He spotted the pin. It was her pin, mixed amongst a pile of belongings on a table.

    He dropped to all fours and crept toward a table. The floor gave a pop, but the humming didn¡¯t stop. Whatever the tune was, it stopped, and the hum turned breathy. A moan came from the bath.

    His heart thumped harder than before, and he had thought it was at full tempo. He put a hand on the table and patted. The pin had been right about¡ªyes, right there.

    A coin slid from the table and tinged on the floor.

    Water splashed, and he scrambled back. When he looked up, he was a deer caught in the headlights. But the headlights were two bulbous tits bouncing from the chest of a beautiful girl.

    She kicked his ass. The beating could have been worse. She launched into a series of brutal strikes, and he found himself reacting purely on instinct, his body faster than his mind could process. Despite that, she swept his legs out from under him and thrust her heel into his stomach. He didn¡¯t feel the right to fight back, but he used his hands to deflect most of the barrage raining down and rolled away

    He ran downstairs, panting.

    Her voice followed him. ¡°You assholes.¡± The room erupted in laughter.

    "Looks like you met Cosima," Lumpo chuckled. "Don¡¯t look so stricken. It¡¯s all in good fun."

    ¡°I almost had the pin.¡±

    Later, Cosima came downstairs wearing a dress and leather armor. She approached Oliver and punched his arm. "No hard feelings,"

    The guild fed the candidates a meal. Who knew how good it tasted? Anything felt good in Oliver¡¯s stomach. He scooped handfuls into his mouth.

    ¡°Poor kid¡¯s starving,¡± Cosima said.

    Kid? I¡¯ll have you know I come from a place with clean water and sunblock.

    Lumpo gathered them and brought them to the courtyard. Racks of wooden weapons stood at one end. "For your final trial, we¡¯ll gauge your combat readiness.¡± He led them to a rack of daggers, maces, and axes.

    Oliver took a wooden dagger and swung it a few times.

    The others looked over the rack and moved to the next one, where practice staffs and swords rested. Robert took a staff and Gorm a sword.

    The dagger would do, Oliver figured. He was starting to trust his skills as a level twenty weapons master.

    Lord Heron appeared and leaned against the stone wall.

    Robert fought against a spear, and wood struck wood. The thuds picked up speed, and soon, he defeated his opponent with a thwack to the ribs. For the next round, he had to fight two spears and the next three. It took all three to bring him down.

    For the next bout, Gorm lost his weapon and charged, picked up a swordsman and slammed him to the ground.

    On the next round against a sword and staff, Gorm battered them with his sword like a maniac and charged around the square. He was pissed.

    The man with the staff swung wildly, and pain burst.

    Oliver fell back, holding his ear. Blood tricked into his palm. Voices asked him questions, but he waved them away. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±

    Lord Heron made a motion, and three men stepped forward, each with a longsword with steel that glinted in the sun.

    "Wait, they get real weapons?" Oliver shouted.

    "I sense magic in you," Lord Heron said. "Let¡¯s see what you¡¯ve got."

    Oliver looked at the wood dagger and almost dropped it and ran. This world had him emersed. He had to snap out of it. The worst that could happen is he¡¯d wake up to the reaper.

    He moved to the center of the square and waved the dagger. ¡°If I used magic, I¡¯d bring this building down on us.¡±

    ¡°That wouldn¡¯t be a good tactic, then, would it,¡± Lord Heron said.

    The three fighters took their positions around him. Guildmembers watched intently.

    "Begin." Lumpo commanded.

    The first fighter lunged forward, thrusting toward Oliver''s midsection. Oliver sidestepped enough for the blade to slide past him. He struck the man in the nose.

    The swordsmen looked at each other. With one bleeding down a white shirt, they charged.

    From behind, one swung his blade in an arc. Another aimed for his leg. Oliver ducked and parried. He struck back and met steel. The wood held up well to the sharpened edges. The swords took nicks out but didn¡¯t cut through. He dove to the sand and came up low and stabbed upward.

    The one behind attacked again, but Oliver feinted to the right this time, then shifted, throwing the man off balance. He struck the swordsman''s shoulder hard enough that the sword fell. "Got you.¡±

    The crowd murmured. Lord Heron crossed his arms.

    Regrouping, the tow remaining exchanged glances and approached together. Oliver scooped up the long sword.

    They should have called the fight there and then rather than have him embarrass the two. He fenced with them, a smile on his face because he felt like this was what he was made for. The sword was a feather in his hands. When he decided to end it, he ended it by disarming each in turn.

    Afterward, Lord Heron spoke to him. ¡°You and Robert are in. But I¡¯ll be watching you closely. Where¡¯d you learn to fight?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t remember.¡±

 CH12 The Price Isnt Right

    Oliver appreciated the guild''s offer of a bed and a daily hot meal. Though there was no plumbing, the accommodations were better than his old apartment, if a bit crowded. The guildhall used to be an inn in a thriving part of the city. Now, Lord Heron ran it in a seedy part of Credola.

    The door flew open, startling everyone in the room. Two roommates groaned and rolled in their blankets, and Robert sat up.

    ¡°You,¡± Cosima said, pointing at Robert. ¡°And you.¡±

    Oliver had been up for an hour. He rolled out of his cot. ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re with me today. Seems the big man sees something in you two.¡± She had her hair back behind her ears, which were pointed.

    Oliver stretched. ¡°Are you part elf?¡±

    Cosima shot forward and tackled him. He realized she was trying to murder him. For a moment, he thought he could turn away each of her punches, but then one and another slammed into his ribs. She got off him as if nothing had happened and waved them to follow.

    Roberts leaned close to Oliver. ¡°She has orc in her.¡±

    She led them to a stable behind the guildhall. She spoke with the stable master, who led three horses to her. ¡°Let¡¯s get going.¡±

    A wave of apprehension hit Oliver, but he pushed it away. He was starting to settle into this world too much, and his old self crept back in. He had free will. He needed to grow a pair and get on the horse.

    She guided them north of Credola and explained that they were to serve as redundant bodyguards for elves in a meeting with goblins. She rode up a steep trail that led away from the highway. First, an austere stone tower appeared, and over a rise, a sea of tents surrounded it. ¡°Lord Emrich has gathered an army. He prepares to march to Halshan Castle and close the pass. It¡¯s a dumb idea.¡±

    The canvas of a pavilion billowed in the breeze, and an elf greeted them. ¡°We meet again Cosima.¡±

    ¡°Balven of Sansi. It¡¯s been a while. How¡¯s the arm.¡±

    ¡°Luckily, we have the best healers. Is this the best Heron could do.¡± He looked Oliver and Robert up and down.

    Over the next hour, Oliver baked alongside Robert outside the tent. Cosima asked a few times if they¡¯d seen anything suspicious.

    Elven delegates arrived first. They walked so smoothly in long robes that they seemed to float. Among them, Oliver noticed an elf girl and consciously closed his mouth. A waterfall of red hair cascaded over her shoulders. Two large eyes in an oval face reminded him of Zaisy, but this girl was far too beautiful. She didn¡¯t notice him at all.

    From the opposite direction, the goblin contingent approached. Short and stout, with earthy skin tones and sharp features. They wore jewelry as if they didn¡¯t know how to use it. A large goblin whore a silver necklace with gold rings on it.

    The two races faced each other across a table with documents and maps.

    Oliver positioned himself behind the elf girl, a silent sentinel. Robert was at the opposite end, his hand resting casually on the hilt of his sword.

    The set of Cosima¡¯s face said she dared anyone to try something.

    The three Crimson Pike members looked awesome. Balven could fuck himself.

    An elven elder began the proceedings, his voice emotionless as if he didn¡¯t care about the whole affair. "We have come to address the troubling disappearances of our citizens. Our sources indicate that goblins have been taking them to the mines."

    A murmur rippled through the goblin ranks. The bejeweled goblin responded with a pounding first on the polished hardwood. "These are baseless accusations. Let me remind you that the dwarves receive preferential treatment from you and the Valemen, cornering the mining trade and leaving us to scavenge what''s left."

    Oliver listened to the back and forth and tried to remain alert, yet he couldn''t help but steal long glances at the elf girl.

    Suddenly, a chill swept through the air. The sound of conversation faded away. A servant entered the tent with a tray of drinks.

    What¡¯s happening? Oliver tightened his grip on the swordstaff. The feeling intensified, and he opened the screen to see if anything had changed. An error scrolled by and returned him to his class page.

    He¡¯d half expected a notification, another survival, but nothing.

    No one else seemed to notice. Robert and Cosima stood as bored as ever.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    The servant stepped forward, and liquid splashed onto the tray as if he weren¡¯t used to carrying one. Dark circles surrounded his eyes and his mouth bared teeth.

    Cosima didn¡¯t budge a muscle. She should be telling him to do something. She should be yelling out.

    The servant dropped the tray and opened his arms. A cube of crackling energy rotated and expanded.

    "Assassin!" Cosima shouted, with only enough time to tilt her spear a few degrees.

    Instinct took over. Oliver moved his hands in a pattern he didn¡¯t control. "Astral Shield!" he said. A shimmering light barrier materialized around the group and expanded into a dome.

    The assassin''s attack collided with the shield and sparks showered. The force of the assault reverberated through the barrier, and Oliver gritted his teeth, channeling all his focus into maintaining it.

    The delegates swung their heads, eyes wide with shock and fear.

    But the strain was immense, like holding up a building. The ground beneath them trembled as the energy from the attacks built up within the confined space. The pavilion shredded and disintegrated in flame.

    It¡¯s not like holding up a building. It¡¯s like knocking one down. The tower cracked and fell, smashing down a handful of tents.

    "Oliver, is that you?" Cosima asked.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Just as he was going to tell her he couldn¡¯t hold it much longer, a flash blinded him and knocked him down, dissolving the shield. Coughing, Oliver pushed himself up from the ground. His ears rang, and his muscles ached from the exertion. Around him, the delegates scrawled, some streaked with blood.

    The assassin rose again and pointed at Oliver, but Cosima¡¯s spear jammed into his neck, fountaining blood. A twist and the man fell dead.

    Robert approached, helping Oliver steady himself. "That was amazing," he said.

    Oliver shook his head, now clearly hearing the cries of those trapped under the tower''s stones. "I¡¯m just destructive?" How many people had been in the tents under the collapsed tower? He needed to go help dig them out, though he felt exhausted and staggered a few feet.

    Cosima stopped him. "Impressive, but I need to know the abilities of those under my command."

    He looked past her at the wreckage. Under the rubble lay canvas and splintered wood. The frightened faces of soldiers picked up stones and chucked them one by one.

    The elf girl approached. Up close, her presence was even more striking. "I want to talk to you. Come to me in Credola," she said, spinning on her heel.

    Oliver gazed after her, the turmoil within him momentarily quieted.

    An elf with silver hair commanded the goblins to leave while he¡¯d let them. He turned to Cosima. ¡°Give Lord Haron my gratitude. It shall not be that we¡¯ll have our long lives cut short by barbarism.¡±

    Returning to Credola, they formed a column of soldiers, delegates, and the three Crimson Pike members. The elves rode in litters surrounded by calverly, and Oliver, Robert, and Cosima took the lead. Their shadows grew long ahead of them over the rugged terrain.

    Back at the guildhall, the atmosphere was tense. Some officials declared war on the guild, which meant their end if it went poorly over the next few weeks. Oliver had just gotten the job. Of course, it would all come crashing down.

    "Cosima, report," Lord Heron said, and she gave a concise account of the events, not shying away from Oliver¡¯s contribution. Lord Heron''s eyes flicked to Oliver. "So, you possess arcane abilities. And you didn¡¯t tell anyone?"

    "I don¡¯t use it," Oliver confirmed, feeling the weight of the man''s scrutiny.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°A lot of people got hurt. I didn¡¯t ask for it, and I don¡¯t use it.¡±

    "From Cosima¡¯s description, this was no wild spark. You¡¯ve trained your whole short life if I know my stuff."

    Oliver bristled. The man had called him a liar.

    ¡°Don¡¯t respond,¡± Lord Heron said. ¡°I see a spark of defiance in you. I know a man who can assess your capabilities and determine your new place in the guild¡ªif there''s still such a thing upon your return."

    Cosima stepped forward. "With respect, Lord Heron, Oliver''s actions saved lives today. Shouldn¡¯t he get a rank? He¡¯s no trainee."

    "Indeed," he acknowledged. "All the more reason to send him to the wizard."

    Oliver met Lord Heron''s gaze. "When would I go?"

    "Immediately," Lord Heron replied. "A wagon is prepared to take you to the wizard''s abode. He resides in the mountains, where he can work without distractions."

    Robert clapped Oliver on the back. "Good luck. We''ll be here when you return. Ain¡¯t no one shutting down the Crimson Pike Guild."

    Oliver climbed into the wagon that pulled around from the back. He had meant to buy that meal for the man in the alley, but that would have to wait.

    The driver urged the horses forward. The city streets gave way to winding mountain roads. The journey was treacherous, the wagon wheels creaking with each turn, and the night descended. More than one time, the driver threw rocks from the road so they could continue.

    Oliver spent hours looking over the edge at the city below.

    Perched atop a rocky outcrop stood a tower that seemed to defy the laws of physics. Its spires twisted, and the stones formed as if frozen from liquid. Flickering light glowed in each window.

    The driver halted at the base of a staircase carved into the rock. "This is as far as I go," he announced. The stairway led to the first floor of the tower.

    ¡°Thanks for the ride," Oliver said, but the driver was already turning the wagon around.

    With a deep breath, Oliver began the ascent. The steps were worn smooth with age, and the wind whistled through the crevices in the rock. As he climbed, he couldn''t shake the feeling of being watched by two animal statues by the door.

    Reaching the tower''s entrance, a heavy wooden door adorned with arcane symbols, he hesitated briefly before knocking. The sound echoed within. How long of a hike was it back down the mountain?

    The door creaked open of its own accord, revealing a dimly lit chamber filled with shelves upon shelves of books. Near the door sat bronze orbs in loops like a solar system. The scent of incense hung in the air.

    "Who are you?¡±

    Lord Heron gave him no message or anything.

 CH13 Coffee and Magic

    Oliver craned his neck to look at the towering bookshelves. They reached the ceiling, which must have been twenty feet. ¡°I¡¯m Oliver, sent by the Crimson Pike Guild.¡±

    ¡°A poor name for an apprentice, much less a wizard. So you must be here to give me bad news. Out with it.¡±

    The cluttered tables were piled high with jars of multicolored powders, liquids, and insects. Various metals appeared in the process of alchemy. It was acrid and dusty.

    Oliver searched for the origin of the voice. ¡°They sent me here because I used magic.¡±

    A lanky man stepped forward. He had a large nose and beady eyes. Clad in robes of deep indigo, he held a staff with a crystal orb.

    "Oliver," the man made it seem like it left a bad taste in his mouth. "I''ve been expecting someone like you. I¡¯m Staharad the Blue."

    Oliver waited. Would he be an apprentice? It would be helpful to learn more about his class.

    ¡°Are you even excited? Where¡¯s the emotion? Did Heron send me a second-tier NPC?¡±

    The longer it took to respond, the dumber Oliver would seem, but he tried to process what the wizard had just said. So, he was dealing with a Player. That could be dangerous. He looked up and saw the ferret''s eyes examining him. ¡°I¡¯m very excited. I have a few powerful spells, but I want to know more.¡±

    "Powerful spells?" Staharad laughed. "Follow me, and mind the books."

    Oliver ascended a spiral staircase to the next floor and marveled at the sheer volume of knickknacks. The wizard was a hoarder.

    Scrolls and tablets occupied every available surface, and all around the floor lay half-eaten plates of food. A large window overlooked the mountains and let in the hoot of an owl.

    "Do you feel the approach of my enemy?" Staharad asked but waited for no reply. "He thinks he¡¯s our savior." He thumbed a pipe full of something green and lit it with a finger. It smelled like weed.

    Oliver leaned on the sill of the glassless opening. "How do you know he¡¯s not your savior?"

    Staharad choked on the smoke. "Sometimes NPCs catch me by surprise. Shit.¡± A few coughs and the wizard recovered. ¡°Let¡¯s just say he tampers with ancient technologies. Now, there are matters to attend to. I¡¯ve waited years for an apprentice." He gestured toward a stack of logs near the hearth. "Fetch some water from the spring. We''ll need it for our work. And I want a bath."

    "Of course," Oliver agreed, hiding his disappointment. He had hoped to learn something.

    He hefted two wooden buckets and made his way outside. The path to the spring was steep and dark, winding upward along the rocky hillside. As he climbed, the crystalline mountain air filled his lungs, and the sound of a bubbling spring lay ahead. Reaching the source, he sat momentarily to catch his breath beside the moon reflecting water.

    Filling the buckets, Oliver carefully descended the path, mindful of his footing. Back at the tower, he poured the water into the cauldron to heat and pour into an iron tub. He set out repeatedly, and by the fifth trip, his legs wouldn¡¯t work anymore, and he sat against the wall.

    "Good," Staharad acknowledged without looking up from a yellowed parchment. "Get some rest. In the morning, laundry needs doing. All my robes smell like ass."

    Suppressing a sigh, Oliver passed out on a couch and slept for what felt like a blink of an eye. Upstairs, the wizard continued to snore.

    He collected the clothes and linens and carried them to a small washing area behind the tower. As he worked, scrubbing the fabric against the washboard. The bastard better teach me some damn good spells.

    Occasionally, he checked that the Memory Spheres remained in their pouch. Zaisy and Hunter lived somewhere in this world, but where?

    Returning indoors with the dried linens, he found Staharad engrossed in a tome and drinking coffee. Arcane symbols swirled above the pages. It was well into the afternoon.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    "Is there anything else?" Oliver asked, a hint of impatience creeping into his voice.

    Staharad glanced up briefly. "Not at the moment. Well, one thing. Think up a better name than Oliver."

    For the remainder of the evening, Oliver swept the floors, organized scrolls, and dusted shelves. Staharad remained absorbed in books, occasionally muttering to himself or jotting down notes. As night settled in, Oliver began to lose patience. "Master Staharad, when will we begin my training?"

    Staharad didn¡¯t look up. "Training? Oh, yes. In due course." And then to himself, ¡°Train an NPC that¡¯s a good one.¡±

    Oliver tossed the mop. "You fucking shitbag."

    A storm rode passed over Staharad''s face. "How dare¡­ wait, are you a player or one of them?"

    ¡°I¡¯m not a player.¡± Oliver prepared to let loose Astral Lance and obliterate the old man. ¡°And I¡¯m not a housekeeper.¡± Surprisingly, no fight followed. He expected the wizard to lash out, but that never happened.

    The wizard nodded thoughtfully. ¡°In that case, I have much to teach you.¡±

    The morning sun cast bars of light through the tower''s narrow windows, illuminating dust motes. Oliver found Staharad in the study, sipping coffee while perusing a scroll.

    "Master Staharad," Oliver said.

    Staharad set down his cup. "I didn¡¯t sleep a wink." He ran his fingers through his beard. ¡°It¡¯s a good thing you ran into me first. Most Players are convinced you¡¯re kind is a problem, while I think it¡¯s just a natural evolution.¡±

    Oliver took a seat and accepted a cup of black liquid. He would have given anything for some cream and sugar.

    Staharad leaned back in his chair. "You see, humanity hit the singularity a long time ago. Reality and fiction became indistinguishable when the Universal Constructor created its first world. Monolithic machines worked in tandem to give us complete freedom. This is my life. I live on the outskirts of Credola, and I¡¯m a wizard. It¡¯s not an illusion."

    ¡°Why would any players want to harm NPCs?¡±

    ¡°We still have a physical connection to the original world. When an NPC defeats us, there¡¯s a chance we¡¯ll die for good. Coda, a player always ranked first, started a movement to kill all NPCs and perform the Great Reset. He comes from the East as we speak. Empires fall, and he wipes them out, man, woman, and child.¡±

    Oliver wiped his eyes. ¡°Those of us who gain sentience also lose our ability to be reborn. He¡¯s killing them for good.¡±

    Staharad finished his cup and stared out of the window. ¡°Then it is worse than I thought. Truly horrifying. You¡¯re mortals in an immortal universe. Why would the monoliths do this? Death had been solved.¡±

    Taking a deep breath, Oliver sat in silence and thought about death.

    Later that afternoon, Oliver focused his energy. He extended his hand, and the runes along his swordstaff began to glow softly. "Astral Lance," he declared. A beam of concentrated starlight shot across the chasm, striking a boulder and sending it airborne.

    Staharad''s eyes widened slightly. "Impressive."

    Emboldened, Oliver moved on. "Astral Shield." A translucent barrier of cosmic energy enveloped him.

    "And finally," Oliver said, concentrating harder, "Celestial Burst." A wave of ethereal light launched from him, forming a molten path stretching to the chasm''s bottom.

    Silence hung between them. Staharad rose slowly, his expression thoughtful. "These are not spells I know," he remarked. "Tell me, where did you learn them?"

    Oliver hesitated. "They come to me instinctively. I found them in my class description."

    Staharad circled him, examining him as one might a curious specimen. "Fascinating. You''re far more than just an NPC."

    "I¡¯m a Star Mage. Does that ring a bell?" Oliver asked.

    Staharad nodded, stroking his chin. "The Star Mage must be like a Fire Mage, but stronger. Perhaps much stronger. You must be very careful as you level up. I don¡¯t know what kind of destruction you may cause."

    "Can you teach me to control it? Or do you always have to unleash the full strength of a spell?"

    "Yes and no," Staharad said. "These attack spells can¡¯t be done in fractions. Perhaps I can teach you to control the shield. Bring it up again."

    ¡°I¡¯m out of mana.¡±

    Staharad¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°What level are you?¡±

    ¡°One.¡±

    ¡°What the fuck,¡± the wizard said. ¡°You¡¯re a goddamn weapon. Well, we¡¯ll have to continue tomorrow when you¡¯ve recovered.¡± He walked away, muttering about insane power.

    Oliver stood looking over the mountains with only the hush of the wind through the pine to listen to. He opened the screen and navigated to his class. It said he was level two. His mana remained depleted. He wondered what would happen the next time he cast a spell. Well, tomorrow, he¡¯d find out.

    He took the buckets up and down from the tower to the spring to take a bath. His legs gave up on him, and he splashed into the hot water. He dozed off and on and had dreams of duels with players. He kept thinking he needed to do something, but even if he were a weapon, how could he change an immortal world when he would die? Even if he defeated Coda somehow, wouldn¡¯t he try again in another world?

    But Staharad had said that NPC could kill players for good.

    No, he couldn¡¯t even pay for a meal, much less take on a man who destroyed empires. He needed to focus on survival and then on finding his friends.

 CH14 Knock Knock

    Mist clung to the mountainside, and morning gold burned through it. Oliver stood on a rocky outlook high above a valley.

    Beside him, Staharad stood on a stump, his silver hair catching the light as he surveyed their surroundings with a discerning gaze. "At level two, you should find an incremental increase in power," he said, unable to hide anticipation. "Your repertoire should also expand, depending on how your class gains spells. For instance, I have to dig through books for old incantations."

    Oliver gripped the swordstaff firmly. "Where," he asked.

    Staharad gestured toward a series of stone pillars across the valley. They jutted from the ground like the broken teeth of some ancient beast. "There. Let¡¯s see what you¡¯ve got."

    Taking a deep breath, Oliver closed his eyes and felt the warmth within. It was very distinct now. The runes along his swordstaff shone when he opened his eyes and aimed. "Astral Lance!" he invoked.

    A beam of radiant starlight erupted from the tip of his weapon, searing through the air. The lance impacted the stone pillar, obliterating it into a shower of dust and debris. The force of the blast sent a shockwave rippling outward, shaking the ground beneath their feet.

    "Ugh." Staharad spun his arms to regain balance. "You left a damn crater." He jumped down and patted Oliver on the back. ¡°Out of curiosity, let¡¯s try again without the swordsaff in your hands. You don¡¯t want to do things the same way and become reliant. By the time I¡¯m done with you, you¡¯ll be doing this while standing on your head.¡±

    Oliver speared the swordstaff into a tree and turned. The crater was no longer a good target. A cliff face below it would suffice. He felt a surge of energy well up. Another spell formed on his lips unbidden. "Celestial Burst!" Yet it was different, uncontrollable.

    A wave of cosmic energy exploded outward, the sheer magnitude far exceeding even the last display, but without direction. The surrounding rocks took flight, and several boulders dislodged at their feet.

    ¡°Stop,¡± Staharad said, struggling to remain standing.

    But it was out of Oliver''s hands. He¡¯d unleashed the energy in all directions, and it rampaged like a wild beast. A tendril touched a bounder and exploded it. Shrapnel shot out.

    "Look out!" Oliver threw himself prone, but it was too late for the wizard.

    A piece of rock struck Staharad on the shoulder, knocking him to the ground in a spray of blood.

    Pain etched across the wizard''s face as he clutched his arm. When the magic settled, he grimaced, struggling to sit up. ¡°On second thought, keep the swordstaff. It seems to focus your abilities.¡±

    Oliver rushed to his side, panic rising in his chest. "I''m so sorry. Are you badly hurt? Let me see the wound."

    Staharad took a shaky breath, his eyes reflecting both pain and concern. "Get me back to the tower."

    All the running up and down to the spring helped prepare Oliver for this. He picked up the wizard and hiked down through the trees. He barged into the tower, struggled up the stairs and lay the man on the couch.

    Staharad told him to boil water, to get this and that, and when he lay bandaged and in pain, he said. "Go into the city and find an elixir of health. It''s not a healing potion; they¡¯re snake oil. This will mend injuries my medicine cannot."

    "Where can I find it?" Oliver pressed.

    Staharad winced as he adjusted his position. "Lord Heron should be able to help."

    "Okay, I¡¯ll be right back.¡±

    Staharad groaned and turned on his side. ¡°If I¡¯m dead when you return, don¡¯t blame yourself or feel sad. I¡¯m even older than I appear. The last time I saw my true self, I was wasting away well over a hundred, and I¡¯m thousands of years beyond that in mind. I think monoliths are testing us¡ªall of us. So fight for your right to exist.¡±Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    Oliver stood, casting one last worried glance at the wizard before sprinting down the mountain. He found a ride with a farmer at the lower peaks where broadleaved trees grew. He¡¯d have to find a faster way back up if he ever hoped to save the wizard.

    The bustling streets of Credola held the wagon up, and Oliver leaped out and thanked the driver. as he emerged from the mountain trail. Hours passed before he found the market and spelled the spices mingled with the sea''s scent. Dodging through the crowd, he approached the Crimson Pike Guild, its familiar crimson banners snapping in the breeze.

    Pushing open the wooden doors, Oliver strode inside, his gaze sweeping the room until he spotted Lord Heron conversing with a group of guild members. Approaching swiftly, he interrupted. "Lord Heron, I need your assistance."

    The guild owner turned, and a split second showed annoyance. "Oliver, what brings you back already?"

    "He''s been injured. Needs an elixir of healing."

    Lord Heron pushed his chair out and stood. "Who? Slow down and speak properly."

    Oliver gave a brief account of how Staharad took shrapnel.

    The surrounding guild members exchanged glances, murmuring among themselves.

    A man stepped forward who looked like an elf but didn¡¯t seem to have the otherworldly quality to him. "The elves have such potions. The problem would be getting them to give it to you."

    ¡°Could you,¡± Lord Heron said, ¡°Help Oliver convince them to?¡±

    The elf-man pointed to himself as if surprised. ¡°Me? I can try, but they don¡¯t consider me pure.¡±

    Lord Heron waved a hand. ¡°Perhaps one of them thinks differently.¡±

    "Thank you," Oliver said and left with the half-elf Delin.

    They navigated the maze of streets toward the gardens and knife-shaped tower. But upon arrival, the elves wouldn¡¯t see them. Delin spoke of his mother, who the elves recognized but didn¡¯t care that he was related to her.

    Hours passed before they gave up and returned to the guild.

    Lord Heron ran out of ideas. He questioned those in the hall, leaned nothing, and sent messengers to his contacts. ¡°All we can do is wait. Here¡¯s some silver, Oliver. Get some food, or whatever. You¡¯ve earned your pay.¡±

    Oliver¡¯s stomach reminded him that he hadn''t eaten since dawn. But he didn¡¯t want to eat while a man lay dying. Yet he remembered he owed a meal to the former guild member in the alley and bought bread filled with roasting meats. The smell made his mouth water.

    He made his way toward the alley where he had previously encountered the man in the blanket. The shadows tried to hide him, but the man was there, huddled against the cool stone.

    "I brought you something to eat," Oliver offered, extending the food.

    The man''s weathered face broke into a grateful smile. "Much obliged," he said, accepting the meal with trembling hands. "I never expected to see you again.¡±

    Oliver settled beside him, taking a bite of a chunk he ripped off. "I was hoping you might be able to help me with something."

    The man raised an eyebrow. "And what might a budding adventurer need from an old failure? Yes, I see the pin."

    Oliver touched the crimson pike on his chest. ¡°I''m looking for an elixir of health."

    The man chewed, gazing down the alley as if peering into distant memories. "Finding the real thing is the hard part."

    "Do you know where?"

    He nodded slowly. "The Tower of Leaves."

    "Shit."

    The man looked at him, jaw working on the bread and meat.

    ¡°I went there with a half-elf. They wouldn¡¯t talk to us, much less hand over an elixir.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to let you in on a little secret. The tower seems to have no windows, but they¡¯re there. If you try around the perimeter, there are also unseen handholds. It¡¯s all elf magic. It looks like a single blade of stone rising from the city, but it¡¯s not.¡±

    Oliver sat with the man and realized he¡¯d never asked his name. Well, another time, he needed to hurry. His legs protested, but he said goodbye and ran.

    He heard the man say, ¡°Crazy kid,¡± before turning the corner.

    With renewed purpose, Oliver navigated back to the gardens. Unfortunately, he¡¯d failed the guild¡¯s stealth test, so how would he pull this off?

    He saw the knife-shaped tower and wondered how many rooms he would have to search. The elves would catch him, no doubt about it. But how many rooms? The thing was the size of a twenty-first-century skyscraper.

    When he passed an elf surrounded by a gaggle of people asking questions, he felt he should hide, but there was no security. One could walk to the inner wall before anyone asked what business one had. Being open to the public must be a show of power. No one dared cause trouble. No vagrants slept in the gardens; only a few strolled in its maze, primarily couples.

    ¡°Will there be war with the Sea People?¡± one asked.

    ¡°No,¡± the elf said. ¡°We are too strong for any nation or horde to challenge.¡±

    Oliver quickened his step and approached the wall. It was smooth white stone, with seams too small to see from more than a few feet away. He could have brought rope, but his bet was that magic was involved here. Why else would they let people walk right up to it?

    ¡°This is nuts,¡± he said, spreading his arms, blade runes glowing.

 CH15 Tower of Leaves

    Oliver stepped back and summoned his energy. The runes on his swordstaff glowed as he invoked Astral Shield. The force struck the twenty-foot wall and collided with magic barriers. The elves must not have trusted six-foot-thick stone to protect them. The stone blew away like dust, some hitting the Tower of Leaves and rebounding back. A shard narrowly missed his head.

    The magic barriers snapped like rubber bands, and he ran forward.

    The smooth, pale stone stretched skyward and appeared seamless and impenetrable to the unsuspecting eye. Hell, even Oliver couldn¡¯t tell this close. But he felt along the surface, looking for a way up, for the invisible windows and handholds behind the facade mirage.

    A subtle shift in texture gave him hope, but he found nothing. Time was running out, not just for Staharad but for himself. There¡¯s no way his entry would go unnoticed.

    He put his head close to the wall and looked with the aid of the last rays of sunlight that caused it to shimmer with the angle. He squinted, searching for any distortion in the perfect plane.

    A barely perceptible line. He reached out again, and his fingers slipped through the illusion, finding purchase on a ledge. The sound of approaching footsteps extinguished a spark of triumph.

    An elven guard appeared from around the tower and sprinted forward. He moved with the grace and silence of a shadow despite wearing jewelry that rattled when he drew a curved sword.

    Oliver''s heart pounded. He wasn¡¯t high enough to avoid the sword, so he dropped. He was forced to fight but had no time for it.

    The man used a curved sword, which proved no match for the swordstaff. The staff section slammed into the guard''s head, and he sprawled.

    Something whistled. The combat senses he hadn¡¯t earned or earned in some other life kicked in, and he twirled the swordstaff. Steel rang. He turned in time to see a second guard.

    "Even taken by surprise, you fight remarkably. But surrender now. Should you defeat me, you¡¯ll still be surrounded in moments."

    Oliver tightened his grip on his swordstaff. "I can''t do that.¡±

    Without further warning, the guard lunged with a sword that gleamed with an ethereal light. A magic sword? Their blades clashed, and blue sparks flew.

    The guard was faster than anyone Oliver had faced before. Each strike was followed by another that snapped forward like a rattlesnake.

    Oliver didn¡¯t understand why the man complimented him when he was a master himself. However, his reflexes felt sharper than ever, and he parried a thrust aimed at his shoulder, twisting his weapon to lock the guard''s blade. With a swift motion, he struck the guard''s wrist with the butt of his swordstaff, causing him to drop his weapon.

    Undeterred, the guard swung a fist toward Oliver''s jaw. He ducked, countering with a sweep of his leg that knocked the guard off balance. Seizing the moment, Oliver delivered a controlled blow to the side of the guard''s head.

    Breathing heavily, Oliver leaped to the ledge and found another handhold. He saw seven guards racing to stand below. One had a bow and knocked an arrow.

    The ascent was disorienting with the setting stone. The ruddy surface simmered. Yet his hands and feet found grips and footholds, and he climbed recklessly. Below, the guards shouted at him, and he heard the twang of the bowstring. The arrow whistled past him and skipped off the tower.

    "Sound the alarm!" one said.

    A protrusion led to an opening, a window. He hooked his arm over it and nearly lost grip as his foot slipped on the slick surface. He himself up, an arrow sliced through his pant leg before he crawled through the narrow opening.

    He landed inside with a muffled thud, rolling to absorb the impact. The room was dimly lit save a rainbow from a crystal cup. He knocked over a chair from a set of ornate furnishings. He was in a sitting room.

    What am I doing? I have no plan.

    The room led to a larger chamber with couches and a curtained platform like a private playhouse. On the opposite side, a stairway led up to higher floors. He took three steps at a time and peaked into each doorway until he reached a storage room with glass containers. But nothing was labeled, and he couldn¡¯t bring it all. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    He had to keep looking, even if it seemed pointless. But why was he helping a Player? The man had probably spent the entirety of his life abusing NPCs. It didn¡¯t matter. He was never one for self-reflection.

    Out of frustration, he kicked open a locked door and barged into a room filled with the scent of vanilla.

    A rustle of fabric caught his attention. He turned to see the elf girl from the delegation standing near a dressing screen. Her eyes widened in surprise, and her cheeks flushed. She was clad in delicate undergarments, her silver hair reaching the small of her back.

    Oliver realized his eyes feasted on the display, and his face reddened, too. He must have looked like a maniac kicking a door open just to stare at a barely dressed elf girl. "I," he stammered, averting his gaze. "You said you wanted to talk?"

    She started laughing. Why was she laughing? ¡°Turn around. I need to change. Why did you come barging into my bedroom.¡±

    Before he turned, the distant shouts of guards filtered into the room. Her expression became urgent. "Looks like you made some noise on your way in.¡±

    "I had no choice. My teacher.¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°Wizard teacher asked for an elixir of healing. He¡¯s dying, and I came here looking."

    "Come with me," she said, grabbing his hand.

    Startled, Oliver allowed himself to be led. She guided him to a tapestry on the far wall that she pulled aside and pulled on a handle. She pulled open a small door to reveal a hidden passage. They slipped into the narrow corridor.

    The passage was pitch black. They moved quickly, the girl''s grip on his hand firm and reassuring.

    "Why are you helping me?" Oliver asked. He wished he could see better. She was on her hands and knees right in front of him.

    "I had a feeling you were one of us."

    He wasn¡¯t sure what she was saying.

    They emerged into a circular chamber lined with high mirrors, each framed in ornate silver and inscribed with elven script. The reflections were distorted, some hypnotic, and some showed glimpses of lush forests, bustling marketplaces, and serene lakes.

    "What is this place?" Oliver asked.

    "The Hall of Mirrors," she explained. "These were once all portals, and some still are."

    She moved toward one of the mirrors, its surface rippling like water. "This one goes to a different point in the city."

    Oliver hesitated. "I need the elixir. I can''t leave without it."

    "Yes, of course." She took the necklace and displayed a bottle pendant. ¡°I have one on me at all times. Everyone should.¡±

    A voice startled him.

    ¡°Elstina, dear, what are you doing?¡± A woman asked, emerging from the mirrors. She wore silk and had a permanent frown, though her skin was still smooth. It seemed the elves didn¡¯t wrinkle. ¡°I wondered when you¡¯d tire of your studies and take an interest in boys.¡±

    Elstina glared at the woman. ¡°Mother. This is important. I¡¯ll be back later.¡±

    ¡°I hope you didn¡¯t doom him.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s none of your business,¡± Elstina said, grabbing Oliver¡¯s hand. She entered a mirror.

    The two emerged in a room with a mirror and a door. It smelled damp and moldy.

    Oliver steadied himself with a hand on the wall.

    "Disorienting," she said and let go of his hand. "You''ll get used to it."

    The door led to stairs and a dead-ended. She rapped on the ceiling a few times, waiting for someone. Footfalls neared, and the ceiling, a hatch, lifted away. They emerged from what must have been a basement to a small kitchen. A single countertop and stove stood opposite a room with busy tables.

    A man stood dumbfounded. ¡°I wasn¡¯t expecting¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, William. There¡¯s no trouble. I was in a hurry and decided to take a shortcut.¡±

    ¡°As is your prerogative. Can I help you with anything?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± she said. ¡°Two good horses.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t ride horses,¡± Oliver began, but the man cut him off.

    ¡°Are you sure? I can bring a litter.¡±

    ¡°No. Horses will be fine.¡±

    ¡°An elf on a horse. There¡¯s a first for everything.¡± He hurried away.

    The inn''s tables held a rough-looking crowd. They hunched closed and whispered and eyed Oliver. He felt like he¡¯d walked in on a conspiracy. When the horses came, he did his best to mount the taller in one go and just made it.

    The journey back was grueling. He sprawled limply, and she rose straight-backed. Dawn broke when he reached the tower.

    "Staharad!" he called out from the entrance but got no reply.

    They hurried upstairs and found the wizard pale and unmoving on the couch.

    She knelt by the couch and took his wrist. ¡°I don¡¯t think his heart is beating.¡±

    Not after all he went through. He thought he¡¯d saved the wizard¡¯s life. Why couldn¡¯t you have held on?

    She looked up, ¡°Wait, maybe. It¡¯s weak.¡± She took the tiny bottle and put it to the gray lips.

    A weak voice wheezed from Staharad. "Oliver?"

    He fell to the wizard''s side, relief flooding through him. The wizard breathed normally but fell asleep.

    She pulled him aside. ¡°Oliver, he¡¯s a player.¡±

 CH16 The One who Brings the End

    Oliver couldn''t¡¯ sleep. The only sound in Staharad¡¯s tower came from some animal going through the garbage outside and a steady snore from the wizard in his bed a floor above.

    But what kept Oliver awake was Elstina. She lay on the couch, and he was on the floor. He gave into temptation and moved to her side. The thin moonlight lit her stomach. She was still in the clothes she would wear under a dress.

    ¡°What are you doing,¡± she whispered.

    He withdrew and laid down. He was a sleepwalker, right? Ugh, she must be revulted. Why did he do that?

    When he fell asleep, he couldn¡¯t say, but when he blinked, the light blinded him, and a woodpecker tapped some tree¡ªit might as well have been his eardrum. He found her making a cup of coffee for the wizard.

    She took a kettle from the stove. ¡°I want to hate him, but he seems like a nice old man.¡± She was concerned about him being a Player. ¡°I¡¯ve heard what they do. It seems like a crime to even let one exist.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not that different,¡± he said. Hunter had opened a character display after watching him, so perhaps she could to. The blue light of the display caused him to squint.

    She only stared at him, and after a few attempts, she opened hers. ¡°It¡¯s says I¡¯m a divine caster. That makes sense.¡±

    ¡°It does?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. The Tower of Leaves is like a ladder to Tezkaldrich. In the tower, I can make elixirs. My ancestors used His power to create Mistglass like we used to get to the inn.¡± She brought the coffee to Staharad and tilted it to his lips.

    The wizard gulped and sputtered. ¡°Thank you.¡± He tried to roll out of bed but groaned.

    She looked at the mass of scabs on his shoulder and chest. ¡°You won¡¯t be going anywhere anytime soon.¡±

    ¡°About that,¡± Staharad said. ¡°You need to bring me to Lord Heron. I need to tell him about Oliver.¡±

    She pushed him down and put a hand on his forehead. ¡°No, I don¡¯t think that¡¯s a good idea.¡±

    ¡°Damnit, girl. Get me dressed and out of this place before I turn you into a lizard.¡±

    She laughed. ¡°I don¡¯t think you can turn people into lizards. The only story I¡¯ve heard about you is when you stole King Hakam¡¯s treasure.¡±

    Staharad grabbed her shoulder and stared. ¡°This isn¡¯t about me. The one who will end you all is coming. Lord Heron can help me spread the word like no other man can.¡±

    They didn¡¯t argue. Instead, they wrapped Staharad in a blanket and struggled to get him on the horse behind Oliver. She wore one of the wizard''s old cloaks, and the sleeves fell over her hands. They plodded down the mountain in the damp morning.

    The quiet shattered when they entered Credola''s bustling streets and made their way to the Crimson Pike Guild. Staharad leaned heavily on Oliver, his face pale and etched with lines of pain.

    Elstina dismounted and helped the wizard down. She led the horses to the stable while Oliver helped the old man to the front door.

    Lord Heron stood at the entrance with arms crossed and a stern expression. His gaze flickered over Staharad''s weakened form before settling on Elstina. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded. "Why have you brought her here?"

    Oliver stepped forward. "Staharad requests that he stay here while he recovers."

    Lord Heron''s eyes narrowed at Elstina. "And why should I allow an elf of her standing to enter the guildhall? She¡¯s the daughter of the Malarite Crown."

    Elstina met his gaze evenly. "My mother¡¯s domain is of the spirit, not the city. And she doesn¡¯t care where I am."

    Lord Heron shook his head. "Your mother has every king in the south on a leash. The politics between our people are... delicate. And Oliver, I thought you might be a womanizer, but I didn¡¯t think you were crazy."

    Oliver stood dumbstruck. A womanizer, me? I have a fucked up face.

    Staharad lifted his head weakly. "Lord Heron, please. Elstina''s presence is inconsequential. There are matters of grave importance we must discuss."You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    The guild leader hesitated. His expression conflicted. "Very well, come in quickly and up the stairs. The less you¡¯re seen, the better.¡±

    Elstina stepped forward. "We need to speak openly about the Players and the NPCs."

    Staharad took a deep breath, summoning the strength to address Lord Heron. "A man is coming.¡± He explained the cyclical nature of reality. ¡°He¡¯s conquered your world a thousand times. But this time, he means to destroy it."

    A silence hung between them.

    Lord Heron paced. "You expect me to believe we''re all pawns in some cosmic game?"

    Even though Elstina knew the truth, she didn¡¯t accept Staharad¡¯s warning. "My mother could destroy any one of these Players. They are not dangerous to the temples or kingdoms, and certainly not Credola."

    Staharad shook his head gently. "Elstina, you underestimate them. While your mother is powerful within her domain, some Players will rise above her. Right now, they¡¯re screwing around, but they gain power relentlessly. And this man, Coda, has been granted godlike abilities. He is far away now, but the day will come when he arrives, and with him, extermination."

    Lord Heron cradled his head in his hands. "Why is this making sense?"

    ¡°You¡¯re becoming sentient,¡± Oliver said. ¡°I¡¯ve seen it before.¡±

    ¡°Correct,¡± Elstina said. ¡°The elves used to strive for it. We called it enlightenment, but Tezkaldrich came to my mother in a dream and said it shall doom us to mortality.¡±

    Oliver sat next to the wizard. ¡°That part is true. I met one of us who said he was reborn old.¡±

    Staharad leaned back to take the pressure from his wounds. ¡°It¡¯s because you¡¯re becoming more like us. Don¡¯t look so shocked, Lord Heron. I am a player. I¡¯ve done things. Unimaginable things. You¡¯d put me to the sword for right here and now if I told you what I¡¯ve done. But I didn¡¯t know you were real people. None of us did.¡± He looked at each in turn. ¡°I believe these are crimes we have to answer for.¡± He paused, nodding to himself. ¡°Time works differently between worlds, so in a sense, the Players are ancient, nearly immortal as you¡¯ve been. The difference is they¡¯ve spent that time honing their skills. That¡¯s why Oliver surprised me. He¡¯s tapping into powers I believe could rival Coda¡¯s if he trained properly.¡±

    Oliver understood most of what the wizard said. He still wondered how a god told the elves the sentience and mortality of the NPCs. ¡°Staharad, what kind of entity is Tezkaldrich?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. There are the primordial beings, things that predate the singularity like the Oberver and the Universal Constructor, but I¡¯ve suspected they¡¯ve built a hierarchy below them. If there are gods here, they may be real.¡±

    Elstina put her hands on her hips. She still looked ridiculous in the oversized cloak. ¡°Sorry, but I¡¯m taking no one¡¯s word on this. I want to see this man with my own eyes.¡±

    She shocked the room, especially when she said how she would do it. ¡°Come on, Oliver.¡±

    They walked to the inn. They entered the cellar and found the mirror they¡¯d taken yesterday.

    ¡°This is Mistglass?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Yes, and finely made.¡±

    The Hall of Mirrors looked empty. Flickering candles reflected everywhere. Oliver wondered how many words this place connected to but didn¡¯t want to make a sound.

    Elstina moved gracefully toward one of the larger mirrors, her reflection distorted amidst the swirling visions. "This one," she murmured, placing a delicate hand on the frame. "It¡¯s from beyond the Doldrums, though. The barrier is windless and haunted. No one can cross, save for with the aid of Mistglass, but I sense great distress from the other side."

    Against his better judgment, Oliver followed her into the portal.

    They tore away the overgrowth of vines and bushes. The portal stood in a recess on the ruins of a stepped pyramid. Steep stairs led them into a dense forest on the trace of a path. They followed it until open land came into view. Smoke billowed from a cluster of towns on the horizon.

    ¡°I think we should turn back,¡± Oliver said.

    ¡°No. I must know.¡±

    They walked for an hour and another. The smoke took up the dimming sky. The smell of barbeque reached their nose, but they soon found charred bodies scattered around burned-out thatched buildings.

    Beyond the towns sat a city on a hill. She kept going.

    ¡°If we find him,¡± Oliver said. ¡°He¡¯ll kill me again.¡±

    She stopped her march. ¡°He killed you?¡±

    ¡°He says he¡¯s killed me over and over.¡±

    ¡°I must see what¡¯s coming to warn my mother. I can¡¯t give her second-hand information.¡± She Picked up her pace. The city grew near.

    The man stood before the city. His voice thundered, ¡°How many are you?¡±

    Oliver and Elstina crouched. The wind whipped the sea of grass that stood above their shoulders.

    ¡°Ten thousand,¡± a man yelled from the wall.

    ¡°Barely worth my time.¡± A surge of dark energy erupted, obliterating the walls and wooden towers.

    The darkness consumed the hill, and people ran. One fell into a fire and spread flames, which licked at a hay cart. Screams erupted from the city, and the man who caused it, Coda, walked away as if he knew his magic would finish the job.

    Elstina stared at the destruction. "It¡¯s horrible. What is this power?"

    "Staharad is right," Oliver said. "No one can stand against him alone. He hardly moved a finger."

    She turned to face him, a hint of defiance in her eyes. "My mother will know what to do. She¡¯ll stop him before he even gets to the doldrums."

    Coda paused. He would be unable to hear them at the distance and with the wind howling, but he turned his head towards them. ¡°Hmm,¡± he smiled and walked away.

    The return to the Hall of Mirrors led into the night. The sounds around the stepped pyramid stood the hairs on Oliver¡¯s neck up, but he dared the pitch black with his swordstaff ready.

    They slid through the mirror.

    A shadow moved behind reflections.

    Elstina nodded, her gaze sweeping the room. "We''re not alone. Someone is here who doesn''t belong."

 Ch17 Free Will

    Oliver glanced around the Hall of Mirrors. The haunting images of Coda''s destruction were still vivid in his mind. The myriad reflections around them shimmered softly, each mirror capturing fragments of the room and faraway places.

    After a moment, he relaxed. No one was here with him and Elstina.

    She started walking toward the door.

    "We need to warn everyone," Oliver said.

    Elstina nodded, her silver hair cascading over her shoulders like a waterfall. "My mother, the council, everyone."

    A faint rustling interrupted their thoughts. Oliver''s gaze snapped toward the sound. "Did you hear that?"

    Elstina tensed. "Someone''s definitely here."

    They crept through the labyrinthine hall, the distorted images making it difficult to discern reality from reflection. A metallic clatter echoed sharply.

    A gold goblet rolled across the marble floor. It stopped at Elstina¡¯s foot.

    "Over there!" Oliver pointed.

    Behind a tall mirror etched with elven runes, a figure scrambled to gather scattered treasures. He stuffed a string of jewels into a bulging satchel. As he stood up, his eyes met Oliver''s.

    "Hunter?" Oliver''s voice was a mix of disbelief and hope.

    The man frowned, adjusting his grip on the satchel. "Huh?¡±

    "It''s me, Oliver. I''ve been looking for you."

    Hunter took a step back. "Yeah, sure you have." He looked back for an escape route.

    "Don¡¯t run," Oliver said, reaching into his pouch.

    Hunter flinched and pulled a dagger.

    Oliver pulled out a glowing Sphere of Memories, its soft light illuminating their faces as it reacted with its owner. "This belongs to you. Take it."

    Hunter eyed it skeptically. "Not interested."

    ¡°Take it anyway.¡± Oliver had to find a way to at least get it into the man¡¯s hands. ¡°It¡¯s valuable.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± He snatched it from Oliver''s hand and slipped it into his satchel.

    Elstina pulled back her hood. "Who is Hunter?"

    ¡°Never met him," Hunter said, adjusting the satchel over his shoulder, ready to bolt.

    Before anyone could react, a commanding voice resonated through the hall. "I was expecting you two? Yet there¡¯s three." The Malarite Crown, Elstina''s mother, strode toward them. Her emerald robes flowed, and her piercing gaze froze them in place. Golden elf guards flanked her, their armor like the mirrors around them.

    "Mother," Elstina began, her voice steady but tinged with apprehension. "I need to talk with you."

    The Malarite Crown raised a hand to silence her. "Tezkaldrich came to Tuile in her sleep. She scraped her own eyes out with her fingernails after a vision He gave her. While my healers stitched her eyelids closed, she told me the young man with my daughter was the only one to fight the man who would kill us all.¡± Her eyes never left Oliver. "You are a weapon."

    Oliver backed away. "We saw him. I¡¯m no match."

    She shook her head. "You will defeat him."

    He knew what it would take to win if it were even possible. If this were all a game, he¡¯d have to grind easy enemies and gain levels, but Coda was way ahead. "I don¡¯t know how."

    Her expression hardened. "Tezkaldrich has named you a weapon, and I mean to use it." She gestured, and the golden guards moved forward, encircling them.

    Hunter glanced around and dropped his dagger. He turned to flee, but a guard blocked his path, spear leveled. "No one leaves," the guard stated.

    Elstina stepped toward her mother. "This isn''t necessary. Oliver will do what he can, but we saw Coda. He¡¯s unstoppable."This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    The Malarite Crown''s eyes flashed with impatience. "Enough, Elstina. You''ve meddled enough already." She signaled to the guards. "Take him.¡±

    Two guards seized Oliver by the arms. He struggled briefly. "Elstina, talk to her."

    A guard prodded Hunter. ¡°What about him?¡±

    Elstina¡¯s mother waved her hand. ¡°Throw him out. Let him keep the trinkets he¡¯s stolen. But if he¡¯s spotted in the city again, he¡¯ll be killed.¡±

    Elstina''s face reddened in anger like a teapot ready to blow, but she spoke in a level tone. ¡°I think this is a mistake.¡±

    The guards took the swordstaff and led Oliver down to the first floor.

    Hours later, he sat in a large chamber with high ceilings with intricate patterns. A single window above allowed a sliver of moonlight, casting pale shadows across the stone floor. Oliver couldn¡¯t believe the display gave him so much information now that he couldn¡¯t make use of it.

    Mission: retrieve Time Crystal

    The mission made zero sense save for an arrow facing north. Well, that wasn¡¯t useful because he wasn¡¯t going anywhere. Also, a new page showed a list of names. He found himself at three hundred and determined it was rankings. Coda reined at the top, number one.

    The heavy door creaked open, and the Malarite Crown entered, her demeanor composed but firm. Two guards stood at attention outside, the door closing behind her.

    "Have you reconsidered your position?" she asked, her voice echoing in the chamber.

    Oliver stood to face her. "I understand your desire to protect your people, but imprisoning me won''t stop Coda. I need to be out there, preparing, if it¡¯s even possible to stop him."

    She arched an eyebrow. "Are you a military strategist?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Should a sword pick the battles it should fight? I don¡¯t need a weapon that thinks. I need one that works. I need one that does what I want it to."

    "This isn¡¯t how this works," he replied. "If you kept me here and tried to unleash me when the time comes, what would I do? I have some power, but he¡¯s on another level."

    Her gaze sharpened. "Your insolence is tiresome. You speak to me like a petty king who thinks I care to listen to him squawk. I think you need an education."

    The guards burst in and advanced. One struck him across the face, the force staggering him backward. The other delivered a blow to his midsection, knocking the wind out of his lungs.

    He gasped, struggling to stay upright. "This won''t change anything," he managed to say.

    She watched impassively. "We shall see." She turned to leave. "Continue."

    The guards proceeded to kick the shit out of him. He was a weapon¡¯s master, and found his bare hands deadly, but the guards were elite warriors and outnumbered him. Oliver gritted his teeth, refusing to cry out.

    In the morning, she returned. "Are you ready to cooperate?"

    He met her gaze, defiance burning in his eyes. The only thing keeping him from disintegrating her here and now was Elstina, Hunter, and Zaisy. He likely would never see them again in any other world. These were his only friends, which meant more to him than anything else. "This will only lead to ruin."

    She sighed. "There are people up north who are so stubborn they won¡¯t stay in the grave. Perhaps you¡¯re one of them. But why suffer pain and isolation when it¡¯s so easy to have respect for those above your station." She gestured to the guards.

    She paced slowly. "Perhaps I was given the prophecy because you¡¯re not a weapon. You¡¯re raw iron that needs to be forged. Today, I give you a way out of a beating."

    His stomach sank at the threat. He hurt all over. "I¡¯d rather not be beaten."

    She seemed tall when she approached. "Kneel and kiss the toe of my boot. Show me respect."

    Oliver decided she was insane. "No."

    Her lips pressed into a thin line. "You¡¯re probably smart enough to know I won¡¯t kill you, but nothing else is off the table."

    He could make it better for himself if he did what she said, but he couldn¡¯t. There was a bitter streak that ran through him he now recognized. It shocked and surprised him. I was so beaten down I didn¡¯t even know myself. ¡°Good for you.¡±

    Her eyes flashed with anger. "Enough!" She turned sharply and exited the chamber, the door slammed, and the beatings continued.

    Days passed in a blur. Silent attendants brought meals. Occasionally, she would return, repeating her demands. Each time, he refused, and the punishments continued. Part of him hoped Elstina would return, but she never did.

    On the seventh night, weakened but unbroken, Oliver sat beneath the high window, the faint glow of the moon casting a halo around him. He closed his eyes, seeking solace in memories of better times.

    A chill filled the air, and a familiar presence, the white reaper, materialized from the shadows.

    "Am I dead again?" Oliver asked wryly, a hint of a smile tugging at his bruised lips.

    "No," the reaper said.

    "It¡¯s good to see a familiar face."

    The reaper regarded him with hollow eyes. "What are you doing?"

    Oliver glared at the door. "I won''t submit to her."

    "Your resolve is commendable, but your current path leads to stagnation," the reaper observed.

    Oliver sighed. "What would you have me do? I can''t force her to listen."

    The reaper extended a bony finger, pointing to the far side of the chamber. "These are mighty walls, but you¡¯ve destroyed rock before."

    The stones in the wall must have weighed thousands of pounds each. Oliver had thought about what he could do. He broke through a wall that encircled the tower quickly, but in these confined spaces, shrapnel would turn him into hamburger. ¡°Besides myself, how many would I kill?¡±

    ¡°If you use your shield, you won¡¯t be among the dead.¡±

    Would the shield let energy out? It must be true if the reaper said so. The angel of death had never lied to him.

 CH18 Rise of the NPC

    Oliver awoke on the chill of the stone floor. His head throbbed, and his body was a patchwork of bruises. Daylight filtered into the high window. He pushed himself upright and tried to shake off the remnants of restless sleep.

    The heavy door creaked open, its iron hinges groaning in protest. Expecting the usual silent guards or perhaps the stern visage of the Malarite Crown, Oliver was surprised to see a stooped man shuffle into the room. Clad in tattered rags, the man''s skin was leathery and worn, like parchment stretched over bone.

    The man offered a faint smile. "Not many get to call this chamber home. It is an honor of a sort."

    Oliver studied him warily. Had the evil woman sent a torturer? He¡¯d suspected it might come to that. "Who are you?"

    "No one anymore. Though perhaps my story may save you a world of agony.¡±

    Oliver sat against the wall and waved a hand to show he didn¡¯t care. ¡°Go on with your story.¡±

    The man sat down cross-legged. ¡°I took my land. Many inherit kingdoms. Few make them.  I carved out my territory from Torraska. I built a fortress in the most splendid oasis of the whole continent."

    "A king?" Oliver asked.

    The man chuckled. "Hard to believe, isn''t it? But yes, I had lords fighting over who could impress me the most. Gold, woman, magic, and I started to believe I was destined to conquer the world."

    "What happened?" Oliver asked. He¡¯d tried his best not to be interested but failed.

    "I was young and proud. When the Malarite Crown asked for my assistance, I refused. I knew the elves were powerful, but I was in the greatest fortress imaginable: the desert." He sighed. "She installed a puppet in my place. She brought me here to legitimize the new rule, expecting me to visit my lands and praise the new king. I wanted revenge, swore I''d rather die than serve her. Yet here I am, polishing the floors of the Tower of Leaves."

    Oliver felt a pang of sympathy. "Why did you give up?"

    The man looked at his hands, looking sad. "Visit a man in a week, and he¡¯s the same man. Visit him in a decade, and he¡¯s someone else."

    They sat in silence until Oliver broke it. "Tell me about Torraska and the lands beyond. I''ve heard nothing of the world."

    The man¡¯s eyes sparkled. "A harsh land, unforgiving as the sun that scorches it. But it¡¯s more beautiful than anywhere else. The people are stronger for the harshness, and you don¡¯t know someone until you¡¯ve survived the thirst with them. I feel sorry for those north of the Vasian Sea. How they trust one another, I cannot say."

    "You spoke of magic," Oliver said.

    The man hesitated. "The desert folk have their secrets. There¡¯s the magic of skin and blood. The sands don¡¯t produce the battle mages you¡¯ll find here, but far more dangerous arts."

    "I don¡¯t think you completely changed. I bet if you had power, you¡¯d take those lands back. Fuck the elves." Oliver realized that he¡¯d included Elstina in that blanket statement. Well, she¡¯d never come to help him. She¡¯d probably forgotten about him.

    "No," The man seemed conflicted. "I came here to help talk you out of your futility. I must be going."

    With that, the former king slipped out of the chamber.  Moments later, the door swung wide and guards filed in, their faces obscured by helmets.

    This beater was worse than any previously.

    Hours blurred into an unending stretch of solitude. Oliver found himself sobbing in the chamber, the oppressive silence weighing heavily on him.

    A faint tapping came from within the room. At first, he dismissed it as the creaking of the old tower, but the tower didn¡¯t creak. But the tapping returned, more deliberate this time.

    "Oliver," a muffled voice called out, barely understandable with its echo.

    He looked up to the window above. The pale glow silhouetted a figure in the narrow opening.

    "Who are you?" Oliver whispered as loudly as he dared.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    The figure shifted. "I used the sphere. I remember everything."

    Relief flooded through Oliver. "Hunter. How did you find me?"

    "But we don''t have much time. I''m getting you out of here."

    Oliver glanced at the heavy door. "It''s locked, and guards patrol the corridors."

    Hunter reached into his satchel, producing coiled rope. "I''ve got a few tricks left," he said. "But you''ll need to climb up here. Think you can manage?"

    Oliver eyed the distance to the window. "What choice do I have?"

    Hunter let the rope fall.

    Without hesitation, Oliver grasped the rope and started shimmying up. "Hold it steady," he urged.

    "Hurry," Hunter whispered.

    Hand over hand, Oliver ascended and reached the top, his muscles straining with the effort. His palms were raw, but luckily, he¡¯d grown calluses working on the ship. He saw the late evening sky.

    "Someone''s coming," Hunter warned.

    Oliver tried to squeeze through the window. It was tight. "Pull me through." They clasped hands, and he made it through the opening.

    "Well, looks like we¡¯ll have to hurry," Hunter said. "Jump."

    Oliver held the ledge and hung, let go, and dropped to the walkway.

    Guards ran towards them.

    "This way," Hunter said, running forward and grabbing a rope he¡¯d left over the outside wall.

    Oliver scrambled up after him and pulled the rope up after them so the guards couldn¡¯t follow.

    The clamor of alarms rang out behind them. "Well, I pictured this going better.¡±

    To stay off the walkways of the gardens, they climbed onto a rooftop to go over the final wall. Even though this wall had an opening, the elves likely closed it off already.

    Hunter had left a rope here, too, and they managed to get to the top and over the other side. They climbed down a trellis covered in flowering vines and entered a secluded garden of a wealthy household.

    "Elstina arranged for a safe place nearby," Hunter explained as they collected and walked down a shadowed pathway. "She couldn''t come herself."

    Oliver nodded, gratitude welling up within him. She hadn¡¯t forgotten him, and Hunter risked his life to save him. "I can''t thank you enough. You¡¯re a true friend."

    "You brought me back," Hunter replied. "Anyway, we''re not out of the woods yet."

    As they approached the arch to the front of the house, figures emerged with weapons drawn. Leading them was the Malarite Crown. "Did you truly believe you could escape so easily?" she asked. ¡°I let you escape because you thought it was still possible. You¡¯ve clung to hope, but what will you do now that I¡¯ve taken it away?¡±

    Hunter tensed, his hand inching toward a concealed dagger. "Any ideas?" he whispered to Oliver.

    ¡°Find me in the north.¡±

    Hunter looked sideways at him. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°If we¡¯re separated, look for me there.¡±

    Before Oliver could respond, the Malarite Crown raised a hand. The air seemed to turn to water, or honey. He found it hard to breath.

    "Seize them," she said. ¡°Take the thief to the magistrates. He can hang with the rest of the vermin.¡±

    The guards advanced. Outnumbered, unarmed, and subdued by magic, Oliver could do nothing.

    "You disappoint me, Oliver," she said.

    She motioned to the guards. "Take them back."

    As they were led away, Oliver caught a glimpse of Elstina watching from a balcony above, her face etched with sorrow. Their eyes met briefly before she turned away, disappearing into the shadows.

    Back in his cell, the familiar confines pressed in on Oliver. The door slammed shut, and the key turned in the lock with a definitive click. Hours passed, each one stretching longer than the last.

    Why did they bring Hunter back here? Would they bring him to hang tomorrow or use him as leverage? The answer came sooner than he expected.

    The door opened, and the Malarite Crown stepped inside. "Perhaps if you behave, I could spare your friend''s life.¡±

    Oliver met her gaze. "Do you think any of this has softened me up? Do you think I¡¯m ready to break? You¡¯re a fucking bitch."

    She stormed away and told her guards while the door was open. "Beat him until the skill of my healers is tested. Make sure he begs. Then bring in his friend and execute him."

    The guards poured in. Two looked joyful, as if this was what they lived for. But they froze in place like statues.

    A familiar chill enveloped the room, and the white reaper materialized before him.

    "You paused the game?" Oliver asked.

    "No.¡± The reaper bushed past one of the guards. ¡°Only they are frozen. I¡¯ve returned because I don¡¯t like how you¡¯re playing the game. Do you know how bored I¡¯ve been, watching players do nothing of interest? I wanted something to see. Real stakes.¡±

    "You made me conscious?"

    The reaper regarded him with an enigmatic stare. "Not really. It was happening already. Perhaps I gave a push, but nothing more."

    Oliver laughed. "Well, I don¡¯t plan to bore you any longer."

    "Tell me." The reaper came closer.

    "It¡¯s no big deal. The former king gave me an idea."

    The reaper cocked his head. "Fascinating." The reaper swung the scythe and decapitated the guards in one swing. ¡°Then I won¡¯t help you again. You know what I want, and you know what you want.¡±

    Oliver recoiled at the rolling heads. The reaper faded into the shadows, leaving him alone with unblinking eyes and his thoughts.

 CH19 Hitchhikers

    Oliver sat cross-legged on the cold floor, his mind a storm of thoughts. He tried to give no attention to the beheaded guards. The reaper''s revelation echoed within him.

    Death had given him a headstart.

    From what he¡¯d seen with Hunter, Zaisy, and Lord Heron, it only took a slight prod to push them out of their slumber. Not to mention, Elstina, the Malarite Crown, and many of the elves were already sentient. When had it happened to him? Had he not suffered before waking on the reaper¡¯s table?

    He took a deep breath, feeling the flow of magic coursing through his veins. The time for restraint had passed. He focused his energy, envisioning the shield. Without the swordstaff, the flow coursed untamed.

    "Astral Shield!" he summoned, thrusting his hands forward.

    A brilliant dome of cosmic energy materialized around him. The walls of the chamber groaned under the pressure. He let loose the Celestial Burst and expected to die. The blast ripped a gaping hole in the side of the Tower of Leaves, debris cascading into the gardens below.

    He couldn¡¯t help but be mesmerized by the enormity of the explosion. It must have been like a gun, where the barrel contains and directs the force. The stones tumbled in the air hundreds of feet above the ground.

    Unbeknownst to him, the elves had some lab or explosives above. He knew this because a second explosion rocked the tower, releasing a plume of fire. From the ruptured levels poured a fountain of burning sludge. The viscous liquid spilled over balconies and down staircases, corroding everything it touched.

    Panic erupted within the tower. Elves and servants scrambled to escape¡ªcries of alarm melding cries of pain. The air was thick with black smoke.

    Oliver stepped through the shattered remains of his cell into the corridor, the floor trembling beneath his feet when giant stones landed.

    Flames licked at tapestries and wooden beams, casting dancing shadows. Would the whole tower come crashing down?

    "Oliver!" a voice shouted from down the hall.

    Hunter sprinted toward him, a mixture of relief and urgency etched on his face. Soot smudged his forehead. ¡°We¡¯re under attack.¡±

    "It was me. I¡¯m leaving," Oliver said.

    Hunter¡¯s eyes went wide when he realized it wasn¡¯t a joke. "I know where they stashed your swordstaff."

    "Lead the way.¡±

    They reached a storage room filled with weapons and odds and ends but didn¡¯t see his weapon.

    However, a large chest sat near the door. Hunter produced a set of lockpicks from his sleeve. "Always come prepared," he said and set to work on the tumblers. Within, they found the swordstaff buried under a pile of expensive clothes, weapons, and jewelry.

    Oliver waited for Hunter to pocket a few valuables before returning to the rent in the tower.

    Outside, they emerged and had to shield their eyes from the daylight. People lay injured in the garden. Men and elves flowed out of the tower and looked up at its teetering height, though the structure gave no sign of tipping.

    They slipped into the shadows, making their way through the city streets. Bells rang nonstop, and legions of city guards rushed down the streets on foot and horseback.

    They arrived at the guild hall. Usually, a few tables held a dozen or two members, but it was cleared out.

    Lord Heron spotted him and waved him upstairs. ¡°You can¡¯t be here. The elves have the whole city looking for you. I have no idea how you made it this far carrying that swordstaff. Anyway, what the hell did you do?¡±

    "I escaped." Oliver gathered his belongings. He wrapped the swordstaff in a blanket. He threw a cloak on and relaced his boots.

    "Before you go, have Cosima cut your hair."

    Oliver picked up the bundle and tried it slung over a shoulder. It would have to do.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    Staharad sat in the corner room, grunting as he trimmed toenails with a knife. He looked up, ¡°Good to see you. It seems you¡¯ve stepped on an ant hill.¡±

    Lord Heron hovered by the open door. Elstina ducked under his arm and ran forward. She grabbed Oliver in a hug. ¡°I thought she was going to kill you.¡±

    Oliver stood dumbfounded, shocked that this beautiful girl was squeezed against him, before wrapping his arms around her. ¡°I think she would have done anything but kill me.¡± He withdrew from the embrace and stood by the window. "There¡¯s a man named Coda who comes to kill us all. Well, not you Staharad, but all the NPCs like us. I need you guys to wake up as many as possible. Sentience will give them greater abilities to fight back."

    Staharad held the injured shoulder and joined Oliver to stare at the street. ¡°The bundle on your back, telling us to prepare, where are you going?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m headed north. I have an idea.¡±

    Elstina gazed at the floor in thought and shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m coming with you.¡±

    ¡°No, ¡°Oliver said. ¡°My life has prepared me to do this alone. And my magic is powerful but deadly to those around me.¡± He introduced Hunter to Lord Heron. ¡°This man can blow away any of your stealth tests.¡±

    The room broke into a conversation and then an argument, Oliver could hear as he crossed the building to get his hair cut. He pushed open the door. Again!

    Cosima stepped out of the tub. Water rivulets streamed down the voluptuous curves of her body. She turned her head to look at him from over her shoulder.

    His words came out all at once. ¡°I¡¯m leaving. I just wanted to get my hair cut goodbye.¡±

    ¡°Get in here,¡± she said and draped a sheer cloth over herself. ¡°What do you mean you¡¯re leaving?¡±

    He explained, and her frown deepened.

    ¡°And you didn¡¯t think to ask me to accompany you?¡±

    He offered a smile. "I appreciate that, truly. But this is a path I have to walk myself. Your focus should be on preparing Credola for what''s to come."

    As she cut his hair, her breasts swung like a pendulum in front of his face. He wasn¡¯t sure what came over him, but he touched one.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know you were a pervert.¡±

    That was stupid. The only woman he feared more than Cosima was Elstina¡¯s mother.

    The back of his neck felt cool after the haircut. He said his goodbyes and tried to slip away before anyone forced him to bring them.

    Lord Heron caught him on the way out. "You made a good decision. There is no greater weakness than surrounding yourself with those you care about. If you have a battle coming, you want them as far away as possible."

    Oliver had never noticed how hard Lord Heron¡¯s eyes looked. The man had seen some shit. "Thank you."

    Robert followed him to the porch. "Sure, you don¡¯t want a horse?"

    "I don¡¯t know the first thing about horses."

    After leaving Credola, Oliver took a break when he spotted the ruins of a castle. The farmhouses around it were suspiciously made of the same stone, as they likely took the blocks for their foundations. From a crumbled wall, he looked at the road that wound like a ribbon up the foothills and over Malum Pass. Somewhere in the march of mountains to the east stood Staharad¡¯s tower. To the west, a braid of rivers met the sea.

    As the day wore on, the terrain became more rugged. The hills¡¯ rocky skeletons jutted from the soil, and the path narrowed between embankments. Oliver used the swordstaff as a walking stick.

    The gravel crunched loudly under his feet as he neared the top of the pass. It was so quiet this high up. He wanted to crest the rise before dark but couldn¡¯t take another step. A chill wind pulled at his cloak. Perhaps he should have stayed the night at a lower elevation.

    Near a gnarled tree, he found a spot a little ways off the path. He lay next to a campfire pit and started slipping into dreams but kept kicking awake. A few hours of sleep would be enough, if he could only get it.

    A net woven of thick ropes dropped from above, entangling him. He struggled, but it wrapped around him tightly.

    "Well, well, what have we here?" a man with a remarkably evil set of features said. He had ears like a bat but otherwise appeared human.

    Three men emerged from the dark, their faces obscured by scarves and hoods. They were armed with clubs, daggers, and a sword.

    "Look at that weapon," one said. ¡°He must be rich. Should we ransom him?¡±

    Oliver struggled. "Let me go."

    One of the men laughed harshly. "Feisty one, aren''t you? You''ll fetch a good price."

    "Careful with that weapon," the leader ordered.

    They carried him to a prison wagon waiting on the path. A man and woman peered through the bars.

    Oliver was unceremoniously tossed into the wagon with them. The door slammed and locked. He looked at the other prisoners. The woman didn¡¯t look at him. The man studied the kidnappers.

    He tested a few bars as the two horses jolted the wagon forward. On the plus side, they headed over the pass.

    The wagon titled around bends. As it hit steep rises, the four brigands shouted encouragement to the beasts. The moonlight gave a view of the danger below and illuminated the vistas at the crest.

    A new land came into view. A silvery body lay ahead in the distance. The road sounded wet.

    The man studied Oliver. ¡°You seem calm.¡±

    Oliver looked up from his display. The time crystal mission still showed active. He was level two now. Supposedly, the destruction caused or the lives he¡¯d ended gave him experience. ¡°I guess I am. They¡¯re saving me a lot of walking.¡±

    The wagon rocked, and the horses whinnied and struggled. The wheels worked their way into the mud. Oliver grabbed the bars at the corner to get a better look and found one of the iron bars loose.

 CH20 Constriction

    The slick mess on the other side of the mountains mired the prisoner wagon in mud that packed itself around the wheels and flung it at Oliver.

    The four brigands talked enough to catch their names. Changan, the leader with bat ears, constantly yelled at the other three and was possibly a Player. Edar stood taller and broader than all the rest. Ridu chewed his fingernails most of the time. Stiny spoke with a nasal voice and wore a perpetual sneer.

    Inside the cramped confines of the wagon, Oliver sat opposite two other prisoners. The first was a young woman named Charity. She sat huddled in a corner, her long dark hair veiling her face as she stared intently at the floorboards. No matter how often Oliver glanced her way, she didn''t return his gaze or utter a word.

    Beside her was a man with a gray beard that stood out against dark skin. "And I¡¯m Saj," he said, extending a calloused hand. "Used to work for the salt merchants down south."

    Oliver shook his hand. "Salt merchants?¡±

    Saj smiled, a thing he seemed to do before saying anything. "Yep. I''m worth my salt.¡±

    A drizzle made it past the wood roof and made Oliver damp. The bars were cold against his back.

    Saj leaned back, too, propping a leg up. "So, what''s your story? What do you do?"

    Oliver considered his answer for a moment. "I plan to rule all this," he replied evenly and gestured in all directions.

    Saj waited as if a joke were coming. "You¡¯ve lost your mind. You¡¯re headed to the goblin mines. That is where you¡¯ll work until your body is broken."

    "Shut up back there.¡± Changen pounded on the bars.

    After a time, Saj whispered. "The people here don¡¯t care that we¡¯re kidnapped. They¡¯ll look the other way."

    Oliver rolled his hood and tilted his head back. "My main concern is getting some sleep in this offroader."

    The wagon jolted violently as it hit a deep rut, causing them to brace themselves. Then it slowed and stopped.

    "Damn this mud." Changan climbed down and shouted at his men as they shoveled. "Put your backs into it."

    The brigands struggled to push the wagon free, their boots slipping and sucking. The horses snorted and strained against their harnesses.

    The blast of a horn sliced the air. High up in the pass, an army emerged from the mist. Rows of armored soldiers squeezed along the path.

    Changen climbed back in the driver¡¯s seat, and the wagon rolled forward again. He took a long look backward. "Emrich thinks he can take the valley."

    Oliver closed the display while the man looked back. He opened it again and navigated to the ranking page. He touched a name, and it brought up additional information. He Found: Changen¡ªPlayer Rank 256¡ªFighter Level 35. He found the head of the army: Lord Emrich¡ªPlayer Rank 50¡ªFighter Level 25.

    Could Oliver defeat either one of them? He may not have the same level, but he was dual class, one of which was very powerful. Also, how do the ranks work? Changen sat far lower in the ranks even though his level was high. It must be that by commanding an army, the Player raised in the ranks.

    Saj looked puzzled. "What are you doing?"

    "Checking out my competition," Oliver replied.

    "Huh?"

    "It''s complicated," Oliver said, shaking his head.

    At the front, Ridu stood, getting a better vantage. "I don¡¯t think we¡¯re going to outrun them."

    Changan spat off the side. "Sit down. I don¡¯t need your assessment."

    The wagon lurched forward but soon became mired again.

    On a rocky hill crest ahead, two fur-clad figures appeared. They stood silently, watching the scene unfold.

    "Who are they?" Ridu whispered nervously.

    "Westerners," Stiny hissed, taking out his crossbow.

    "Just a couple of savages,¡± Changen said. ¡°Ignore them and dig."

    The barbarians moved to another hilltop when the wagon made it another half mile or so.

    "What if there¡¯s more we can¡¯t see?" Edar said, fear creeping into his voice.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    Ridu swallowed hard. "We have a Credola army behind us, barbarians beside us, and Valemen ahead. We should just run for it."

    "One more word out of any of you," Changan snapped. "And I¡¯ll find another bunch of losers to carry."

    Oliver wondered if all four were Players. He didn¡¯t want to scroll too far down the rankings to find out. They wouldn¡¯t be much of a threat if they were that low on the list.

    Changan''s patience wore thin as the sun dipped. He jumped down and started hitting the horses. "They¡¯re goddamned useless."

    Stiny flipped Changen from behind. "They¡¯re just animals."

    Changan turned to glare at him. "You¡¯re coming with me."

    Stiny leaned the crossbow on his shoulder. ¡°Where¡¯re we going?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s got to be some towns close. The rest of you, watch the prisoners.¡±

    The two men trudged up the hillside, disappearing into the rocky terrain.

    Edar and Ridu thumbed a pipe full and lit it. The smoke was unmistakable. Weed. They were probably Players, and they sat smoking and joking for hours.

    Oliver pulled on the loose bar, which was connected to the wooden ceiling. The iron moved back and forth in a rotted hole. "Help me with this," he whispered to Saj.

    They worked together, wiggling the bar repeatedly until it gave way.

    Oliver turned to Saj and Charity. "Follow me, and don¡¯t make a sound."

    She glanced up. Her eyes were large for her face. She gave a nod.

    One by one, they slipped through the gap and ducked at the back of the wagon.

    Oliver¡¯s first step squelched. He looked around and found a stick and made a little noise getting to it.

    Edar and Ridu were preoccupied, their attention focused on blowing smoke rings.

    Oliver flourished the stick, testing its weight. "Stay behind me," he whispered.

    As they crept around the wagon, Edar spotted them. "Hey! They¡¯re escaping!"

    Ridu drew his axe. "We did what Changen asked. Now we¡¯ll have to cut them up."

    Oliver stepped forward. "We can get back in the wagon," he said, but didn¡¯t mean it.

    Edar laughed. "You''re slowing us down. We thought of killing you anyway."

    Without warning, Edar lunged, swinging his mace. Oliver sidestepped the blow, bringing his stick down hard on Edar''s wrist. The brigand cried out, dropping his weapon and cradling his arm.

    Ridu charged with his axe raised high. Oliver met him head-on, deflecting the strike with his stick. He delivered a swift kick to Ridu''s knee, causing him to stumble. Seizing the advantage, Oliver struck him across the back, sending him sprawling into the mud.

    Edar retrieved the mace and swung. Oliver ducked, then thrust the end of his stick into Edar''s gut. The brigand doubled over, gasping for air, yelling out as the stick end snapped off under the skin.

    "Stay down," Oliver warned, his eyes fierce. He had no reason to kill them.

    Saj and Charity huddled near the wagon.

    "That was surprising," Saj said. ¡°Who are you really?¡±

    "I told you. Now," Oliver took the weapons from the Players. He unhitched the horses. "Let¡¯s get out of here." With a slap on their hindquarters, he sent the horses galloping away.

    Changan and Stiny emerged from the hillside, leading an ox downhill.

    "What the hell is going on?" Changan shouted with his hands forming a cone around his mouth.

    "They''re loose!" Ridu shouted back, struggling to his feet.

    Changan drew his sword and ran ahead, advancing toward Oliver. "You''re going to pay for that."

    Stiny wound his crossbow and prepared to fire.

    Oliver searched the chest behind the driver''s bench, digging out his swordstaff.

    An arrow whistled through the air, embedding itself in the ground at Changan¡¯s feet. He froze.

    The barbarians appeared once more, standing atop a nearby ridge. The woman notched another arrow.

    Changan''s confidence wavered. "Damn barbarians!"

    Edar and Ridu exchanged fearful looks. "We need to get out of here," Edar urged.

    Changan hesitated, glancing between Oliver and the barbarians.

    Another arrow landed closer.

    "They both have bows?" Stiny said. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here.¡±

    With a snarl, Changan sheathed his sword. "Fall back! We''ll deal with this later."

    The four brigands retreated, disappearing over the slope.

    Oliver watched them go. Avoiding a fight with four Players at once was likely a good thing. "Well, now we have to walk.¡±

    Saj stared at the two figures silhouetted above. "You preferred the wagon?"

    The barbarians descended, and the man and woman approached with measured steps.

    "In our homeland, this type of thing doesn¡¯t happen," the man said. ¡°We do not capture man, beast, or monster. You kill them or not.¡±

    Oliver nodded. "Thank you for your help."

    The woman regarded them thoughtfully. "Why do you fight when they do not?"

    Saj showed open palms. ¡°I can tell you the worth of gold, stones, luxurious items. But my skills don¡¯t include violence.¡±

    "If this isn¡¯t your homeland, why are you here?" Oliver asked.

    The man glanced toward Lord Emrich''s army. "It¡¯s not uncommon to sail to the east to prove oneself a man. A red dragon now lays claim to Lake Emerald and all the lands south to the mountains. My party was ambushed, and only my sister and I survived its fire. We couldn¡¯t return, so we found ourselves in these strange lands. I hope to reach the Sea People and sail back home."

    Charity spoke without looking up. "Thank you for helping us."

    The woman in furs offered a faint smile. "No need to thank us. We should travel together if you¡¯re headed north."

    Oliver watched the ox stop at a patch of grass. "That seems as good a direction as any."

    They followed the barbarians into the rugged terrain. Saj stumbled countless times in the dark. Charity whispered occasionally, talking to herself.

    The path ahead was uncertain, and Oliver felt small in the world for the first time since his capture. No, I was given power, so I must bend everything to my will if I hope to defeat Coda.

    Behind them, the abandoned wagon sat mired in the mud, and a figure sniffed it. Tatters of skin fell from a skeletal face. Another undead creature wondered ahead.

 CH21 Dead Reunion

    Oliver Looked at the dark lumps of land and saw movement. Someone or something followed him. It didn¡¯t appear undead, as he¡¯d passed a few skeletal things meandering around a huddle of farmsteads.

    The ground dried below the foothills, and the group of five traveled through the night toward silvery waters, some large lake with forest skirting it. They followed a stream for hours until the sky disappeared behind a broad-leaved canopy.

    The forest grew denser. Shadows stretched and tilted across a narrow path marked with a dry-rotten sign that read Thornsfield. Oliver led the way, his swordstaff in hand, its weight a comforting presence in the unknown.

    Beside him walked the barbarians Halfdan and Sigrid, whose knowledge of these lands seemed as sparse as Saj. Saj''s jovial demeanor increased after leaving the mud behind. Charity trailed the four, silent as ever, her eyes fixed on the ground.

    "We need shelter," Sigrid said, scanning the darkening woods. "I can¡¯t see my hand in front of my face."

    As if in agreement, the trees parted to reveal a meadow with a cabin at the far end. The cabin¡¯s walls were overrun with ivy and moss. Smoke curled lazily from a stone chimney, and the faint glow of firelight flickered through a window.

    "Looks like someone''s home," Saj noted, though his tone was not enthusiastic.

    Halfdan walked toward the cabin. "It¡¯s not good luck setting up camp after sunset.¡±

    They approached cautiously. Before stepping foot in the meadow, the cabin''s door creaked open, and an old woman emerged. Her back was hunched, and a tattered shawl draped over her thin shoulders. Her eyes were milky white, staring vacantly ahead, but she walked without a cane.

    She walked up a small hill and crushed a wilted rose in a gnarled hand. Three simple graves stood at her feet.

    "What is she doing?" Saj asked.

    "Paying respects, perhaps," Sigrid replied, though her brow furrowed.

    They watched as the old woman knelt before the graves. She crumbled the rose over each, drew a knife, and sliced her palm. Bblood dripped onto the earth as she chanted.

    A chill wind swept through the clearing, rustling the leaves and shivering down Oliver''s spine.

    "By the spirits," Halfdan muttered, his hand moving to the hilt of his axe.

    The old woman rose slowly, tucking the knife away. Without acknowledging them, she disappeared back into the cabin.

    Silence settled over the clearing. Then, the ground before the graves began to stir. The soil bulged and cracked. Skeletal hands broke the surface, grasping at the air.

    "She¡¯s raised her family," Sigrid said, stepping back.

    Three decomposed figures pulled themselves from the earth. Their flesh hung in tatters, exposing bone and sinew, and their empty eye sockets seemed to fixate on the group.

    "Don¡¯t run!" Oliver said, positioning himself between the undead and his companions. He needed the experience.

    The first creature waded through the grass to the trees and lunged toward him. Oliver swung his swordstaff, the blade slicing cleanly through its torso. The undead staggered but did not fall, its bony fingers reaching for him.

    Haldan darted forward with a flurry of axe strikes. "They don''t die easy," His target¡¯s arm detached, and it grabbed it as a cudgel.

    Sigrid loosed an arrow that embedded itself in the third undead''s skull. With its head facing the sky, it lost balance and toppled. "Go for the head.".

    Saj held a branch defensively, eyes wide with terror.

    Oliver ducked under a swipe from the first undead and retaliated with a powerful upward thrust. The creature collapsed, finally still.

    Halfdan grappled with the second, wrestling it to the ground. "A little help here."

    Sigrid drew a dagger and plunged it into the undead''s neck. Together, they dismembered it until it moved no more.

    The third undead closed in on Saj, who stumbled backward and raised his hands against gnashing teeth.

    Oliver hurled his swordstaff, impaling the creature through the chest and pinning it to a tree. It thrashed violently.

    Retrieving his weapon, Oliver severed its head with a swift strike. The forest fell silent again, save for the buzz of crickets and cicadas.

    "I think we should go." Saj panted.

    "Dark Magic," Sigrid said. "I don¡¯t like it, but it¡¯s not always evil."

    "It¡¯s only one old lady.¡± Oliver crossed the meadow to the cabin.

    Halfdan followed and caught him by the shoulder. "There are things you can¡¯t see. If she invites us in, we must listen to your guts.¡±

    "Yes," Sigrid said. "We kill her if we so much as get a chill up our spines."

    "Take a breath," Oliver said. ¡°I¡¯ve seen stranger shit than this.¡±Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    They approached the cabin with weapons at their hips and hands itching to grab them. Oliver rapped on the door.

    The door swung open, perhaps from the force of the knock.

    The interior was lit by a fire crackling at the hearth. Herbs and dried plants hung from the rafters. The old woman sat in a chair, cutting meat and vegetables.

    "Excuse us," Oliver began cautiously. "I didn¡¯t mean to open your door. We¡¯re travel¡­"

    She cackled. Her eyes, cloudy and sunken, snapped toward them. "Visitors? Oh, how lovely. It''s been ages."

    "We''re travelers seeking shelter for the night," Sigrid said. "May we share your heart?"

    "Of course, dearies. I called you visitors, did I not?" She smiled toothlessly. "I was just fixing supper."

    They exchanged uneasy glances but stepped inside.

    "I''m Agatha," she introduced herself. "Please, leave your cloaks and boots at the door." She ladled a thick stew into bread bowls and set them on a rickety table. The concoction emitted a pungent odor.

    "Rat stew," she announced proudly. "Caught them myself. Just a name, though. Some of it is mice and rabbit."

    Saj gulped audibly. "How, uh, delightful. So, tell me, do you have a husband?"

    ¡°Yes. Dead. Sons, too. They died fighting the elves long ago. Well, not the elves exactly, just their stand-ins. The pointy ears never fight themselves, you know. They can¡¯t have others do the dirty work. Now it comes again. I raised him and my boys so they could fight again, as is tradition.¡±

    Oliver met eyes with his companions. They¡¯d just dispatched her whole family. He wouldn¡¯t feel guilty. They were dead. Of course, so was he, but that was different.

    They took seats around the table. Agatha placed the bread bowls before them. They pretended to eat as Agatha sat with them, her gaze unfocused.

    "Thank you for your hospitality," Oliver said, feigning a sip.

    "Oh, it''s no trouble," she said. "Good to be around others."

    As she prattled on about the solitude of the woods, they discreetly dumped their portions out of the window.

    Charity remained silent, seated right next to the old lady. Her food sat untouched. She smelled it as if thinking of eating it but just pushed a chunk of meat around with a wooden fork. Perhaps she was starving.

    "Not hungry, dear?" Agatha asked, turning her head slightly toward Charity.

    "I''m... not feeling well," Charity murmured.

    "Ah, I have just the remedy," Agatha offered, rising unsteadily.

    "That''s quite all right," Sigrid interjected quickly. "She just needs rest. We¡¯ve pushed ourselves."

    "Very well," Agatha shuffled toward a curtained alcove. "Lay beside the hearth and dream about whatever young people dream."

    Once she was out of earshot, Halfdan whispered, "We should leave at first light."

    Oliver lay on his side. "Agreed.¡±

    They lay close and silent, each lost in their thoughts.

    In the pre-dawn, after only a couple hours of sleep, Oliver awoke to faint whispers. He strained to listen but could not discern the words.

    He considered investigating but thought better of it. Instead, he tightened his grip on his swordstaff.

    The group departed the cabin at sunrise, thanking Agatha, who waved them off cheerfully from her porch. The forest thinned as they traveled, giving way to open fields and rolling hills.

    Saj rubbed his stomach. ¡°Perhaps we should have tried her food. I think she was just a nice old lady, and we feared the worst.¡±

    They approached a small village beside where the stream became a river and a vast lake. The sight of smoke rising from chimneys and the distant hum of activity lifted their spirits.

    "I want carrots," Saj said. ¡°And apples. Carrots and apples and a nap.¡±

    Halfdan grunted. ¡°Ribs.¡±

    As they entered the village, a sense of unease settled over them. The streets were eerily quiet, the villagers hurrying about with downcast eyes. On the outskirts, they passed a series of wooden stakes driven into the ground. Atop each stood a charred, lifeless figure.

    "Why?" Charity said.

    They all looked at her since she¡¯d hardly spoken.

    Halfdan fingered the axe at his belt. "I don¡¯t like it.¡±

    Oliver waved them on. "Not our business." Maybe when he rose in the ranks he¡¯d try and fix things, but who knew how much crazy shit was happening in this world.

    A farmer at the outskirts of the crowd around the stakes nodded to them. ¡°Travelers. We don¡¯t get many of them. What news from abroad?¡±

    "Good day," Oliver greeted. "There¡¯s an army coming toward you. Though I imagine you know about that."

    The man wiped his brow. "We¡¯ve known before they even crossed the pass," he said. "Normally, we¡¯d be long gone, but Lord Reynold hasn¡¯t given permission to flee."

    "Why is that?" Sigrid inquired.

    He hesitated before muttering, "Some say the Witchfriends got to him. I don¡¯t buy into any of that. No one¡¯s done a better job of rooting them out."

    "Is there a place we might find food?" Saj asked.

    The farmer pointed to a dilapidated building at the village center. "You could try the alehouse. That¡¯s about the only place open." He made turned as the crowd gasped. The figure on the stake moved, though it was burned black. ¡°Hard to kill a witchfriend.¡±

    They made their way to a small building marked as an alehouse by faded signage. The floorboards creaked. A few patrons cast suspicious glances their way.

    A woman wiping a goblet clean looked them over with tired eyes. "One for all of you?"

    "Food, too," Oliver asked.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can scrape up.¡±

    They settled at a corner table as the innkeeper brought out bowls and mugs of ale.

    Saj took a sip and then another. "A very¡ªI don¡¯t want to say plain¡ªpeople. Very down to earth."

    "Darkness hangs over this place," Sigrid said.

    Oliver didn¡¯t like how Sigrid and the locals stared at each other. ¡°Let¡¯s just try to blend in. We¡¯ll be out of here in no time.¡±

    As they ate, the atmosphere grew increasingly tense. One by one, the patrons finished their meals and departed.

    "Is something wrong?" Oliver asked.

    She paused, her expression grim, looking into the distance. "We woke the graveyard. We shouldn¡¯t be here. It¡¯s not how it¡¯s supposed to be done." She walked away. ¡°I¡¯d find a safe place if I were you, but not here. Move along.¡±

    Saj stood, stretching his back. ¡°Come to think of it, I¡¯ve heard of these people. They say they¡¯re so stubborn they won¡¯t stay in the ground.¡±

    From outside came the sound of shuffling feet and low, guttural moans. The villagers scrambled to barricade their homes, doors slamming and bolts ramming into place.

    Oliver jammed his staff end into the door before the woman could close it. "We need in," Oliver said.

    She struggled to close it. "No, get out of my house. We have burglars."

    Oliver shoved her aside, and his companions worked to reinforce the entrances with heavy furniture. The moans grew louder. Shadows moved behind the shutters.

    An old man burst from a dark room and stood beside the woman. He froze in a stance with a raised fist and an open mouth. He had a glass tube in one hand. Then, he said, ¡°Oliver?¡±

    Oliver couldn¡¯t believe it. ¡°Eldrin?¡±

 CH22 Witchfriends

    Zombie forms milled around the alehouse.

    Oliver peeked out at them. ¡°Can we talk in private? No one else needs to hear all this science mumbo jumbo with these guys trying to eat our brains.¡±

    Eldrin whispered to his wife and touched her fondly before nodding. He went into the only other room in the house and sat on a bed. ¡°I have so much to tell you.¡±

    ¡°Same here,¡± Oliver said and told him about his plan to thwart Coda. He had to gain power and influence, a lesson he learned from the low-ranking Changen, a high-level fighter with a low rank. As silly as it sounded, if he commanded armies, perhaps he could come at Coda with more than his Star Mage abilities.

    Eldrin coughed, and it rattled deep in his chest. He looked sick, worse than he had in Highside. His tangled gray hair fell over his face. ¡°You might be playing right into their hands.¡±

    ¡°Whose hands?¡±

    ¡°Coda destroyed Highside, and I awoke in the white room. You know what I¡¯m talking about. This time, I snuck out into corridors of light. I found two psychopomps talking.¡±

    Oliver didn¡¯t want to disrupt, but the man couldn¡¯t throw a word like that out there and expect him to understand it. ¡°A what?¡±

    ¡°These reapers. Spirits of death. One looked like a man with a raven head, and it spoke to a white hooded skeleton. The latter said he¡¯d tampered with an NPC to settle a bet on whether a failing non-player could defeat the highest rank.¡±

    Oliver chuckled before he absorbed the man¡¯s words. Was it possible that his existence, fate, and circumstance were all due to a bet? What had the white reaper wagered? ¡°What are these death angels?¡±

    Eldrin pulled out a cylinder about a hand long and pressed a button. He waved it as he spoke. ¡°I don¡¯t know for certain. We come from worlds where there¡¯s a difference between a computer and a living being, but this goes well beyond blurring those lines.¡± A blue light emitted from the cylinder, and he pointed it at Oliver. ¡°While I ran free in the corridors, I found an interface and read histories, schematics, and theories. I believe the Players, or their ancestors, developed the technology that creates these worlds. But they only planted the seeds. The gamification of existence comes from their desire, their wish to live like this, but the technology is intergalactic. It¡¯s in control of reality. It is reality. It¡¯s all-knowing and all-powerful. They created a god, and so Genesis came once again. These entities, psychopomps and who knows what else, are new lifeforms birthed in the early techno primordial ooze.¡±

    Oliver shielded his eyes. ¡°What are you doing with that thing?¡±

    ¡°I fixed your HUD. You can pin it now for quick access to spells. And you can augment your stats.¡±

    Oliver pulled up his character. It still said NPC, but now there were pages of information. ¡°Holy shit. Thanks.¡±

    ¡°Now,¡± Eldrin said, lying down. ¡°I¡¯m going to rest while you guys fight zombies. Do you know what the most interesting thing I learned is?¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°That the worlds don¡¯t end. When we die, we move one to another like a merry-go-round. There¡¯s a way to move between them without dying. I haven¡¯t figured it out, but I will. You should check your notifications.¡±

    Oliver stood and clicked on a yellow triangle. Protect the scientist from the undead siege. This bastard hacked the system.

    In the other room, the others worked to secure the openings.

    "How did this happen?" Sigrid said, sliding a table against the door.

    "The cursed Witchfriends led them here, you can be sure," Eldrin¡¯s wife said. "We have always burned the fields and let the undead wonder whenever an army comes our way. But the cult grows. We burned two of theirs, so they herded and brought back the risen. Imagine our own families and ancestors turned against us. Such is the times. And it¡¯s made no better by Lord Reynold."Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!

    Charity started at a clawing noise beside her. "The Witchfriends are from your people?"

    ¡°Yes. Decades ago, some of us went snooping where we shouldn¡¯t be snooping. Some old god is trapped in a crystal cage in the old mines. Well, it has a snake¡¯s tongue. It,¡± she reared back as an arm came through the shutters and grubby fingers tangled her hair.

    Oliver sliced through the arm. "How many?¡±

    The woman took a moment to make sense of the question. She stared at the arm wiggling on the floorboards. ¡°Hard to say. There were hundreds at the graveyard.¡±

    The zombies began pounding on the walls. Fingers clawed through the gap in the shutters. One chewed on the wood, splinters gathering between rotten teeth.

    Halfdan and Sigrid jammed their weapons into the hole but made it worse, wider. Saj armed himself with a stout chair leg, his knuckles white.

    Oliver stood at the center of the room, considering magic. He could see the full details of Astral Shield. It created a dome twenty feet wide and protected against two megadamage. He had no idea what megadamage was, but the radius would destroy part of the alehouse, which would be fine, but the max duration was ten minutes.

    The assault intensified. The zombies began piling against the door, and the latch snapped. The barbarians pushed against the furniture and kept the door shut. Fingers crept through the doorway.

    Charity sat below them with her back to a table, pushing with her legs.

    "This isn¡¯t going to work," Oliver said. ¡°I¡¯m going to fight.¡±

    "I¡¯ll come with you," Halfdan said.

    ¡°No, keep Eldrin safe. He¡¯s more important than any of us.¡± Oliver had done nothing but dance to the reaper¡¯s tune, whereas the scientist had manipulated the system. The man was key.

    Cracks formed around the door, and pieces flaked away, revealing a mesh of sticks in the wall. The place was falling apart.

    "How are you going to get out?" Halfdan asked.

    Oliver''s mind raced, but he had no answer. Every window would let zombies in.

    Eldrin¡¯s wife pointed down. We built on an old ruin and turned it into an undercroft with an exit outside. It¡¯s locked, but still safer than using the front door.¡±

    Perfect. ¡°Let me borrow your axe, Halfdan,¡± Oliver said. The weapon came skidding to his feet, and he took it in two hands and chopped deep into the floorboards. He cut a notch into the joist below and stopped. He used the leverage of his swordstaff to pry the boards up. He dropped into the gloom.

    The space below smelled surprisingly good. All the supplies for making ale lay on shelves along the brickwork. Oliver groped blindly until he found stairs and a door at a steep incline.

    What a waste of a powerful spell. With more access, he could now add extra mana to a spell. He selected Astral Lance and kept it at one mana, of which he only had four. The door to the undercroft exploded outward.

    He stepped outside into the daylight. A half dozen undead lay strewn about where his magic had destroyed them. The alehouse crawled with them. Some had climbed to the thatch roof and pulled it apart. Some stopped and looked his way.

    Were they drawn to him? He backed away, hoping they would gather before him, and many did. They were an easy target. Five remained on the roof, clawing their way in. One jumped from the eave and snapped its legs. At least fifty limped toward him.

    He dashed forward and severed a head. The swordstaff whizzed as he took out arms and legs. With a dam of undead flesh, those behind piled up. The runes glowed, and he raised a hand, aiming directly down the road and away from buildings.

    The blast evaporated the creatures. He recognized the bleep of a new notification.

    His spell had left a rut in the road, and stones rained down and thudded into buildings.

    From a window on an upper story, a woman said, ¡°He¡¯s a Witchfriend. Maybe a Dark Captian.¡± Half the town peered from windows along the street.

    Another voice questioned, ¡°But why did he destroy them?¡±

    ¡°They didn¡¯t do what he wanted them to.¡±

    He didn¡¯t want to wear out his welcome, so he dispatched the remaining undead and knocked on the door.

    Halfdan sounded exhausted. ¡°Is that you?¡±

    ¡°Yep, open up. It¡¯s time to go.¡±

    Before they departed, Eldrin struggled to the door and leaned close. ¡°I will figure out how to switch worlds. Read your notifications, and someday you might get a surprise.¡±

    Oliver thanked him and gathered the barbarians, Charity, and Saj. They all looked worn out, but they had to continue before the town turned against them.

    They followed the road as the sun set on the lake. The way led toward a hill where an old windmill stood, its blades creaking in the morning breeze.

    "Let''s rest there," Saj proposed, his voice weary.

    But as they approached, A colossal figure blotted out the red light. A guttural growl emanated from deep within its chest.

    "Undead giant," Halfdan said, pulling his axe from the loop at his belt.

    The creature turned its gaze upon them, raising a massive arm with an axe the size of a person.

    Beside the giant stood a black-cloaked figure.

    ¡°Let me guess,¡± Oliver said. ¡°Witchfriend.¡±

 CH23 Illusions

    Oliver lent a hand to Charity and pulled her onto the roof of the windmill. The timber sagged between the rafters. ¡°At least the giant can¡¯t step on us up here.¡±

    He opened the display and noticed he had access to maps now. A red dot indicated where he stood.

    Halfdan, Sigrid, and Saj followed. Behind them, the wooden blades moved in the breeze. The rusted hub squealed.

    From his vantage, he could see the fields along the shores of Lake Zars. To the other side of the windmill, the midmorning lit strands of fog and the crests of the forest canopy.

    The monstrous figure walked to stand as tall as the building. It was stitched from countless corpses, towering at least three times Oliver¡¯s height. Rotten flesh hung in strips from a fist that hefted a rusted axe that could cleave a horse.

    Below the giant stood a black-cloaked figure, a Witchfriend. The facial features were lost beneath a hood.

    "Don¡¯t get in front of me," Oliver warned, gripping his swordstaff. He could feel the course of cosmic energy in his veins. It flared from the runes in his blade. His mana reserves were halved after recent battles. Still, he had to use Astral Lance.

    Flesh Golem Giant. The display showed a health bar and sections of description. He scanned for weakness: fire. Perhaps it would be weak against his spells, but there wasn¡¯t a guarantee. Anyway, his spell¡¯s power hasn¡¯t been an issue as of yet.

    Halfdan tightened his grip on his axe, muscles tensed, while Sigrid nocked an arrow, her keen eyes narrowing at the Witchfriend. Saj and Charity hovered close behind Oliver.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to die here,¡± Saj said. ¡°It¡¯s a long way down. We¡¯re going to be swatted off this roof and splat, we¡¯re dead.¡±

    Oliver glanced back at Saj. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m a powerful mage, and I¡¯ve claimed this land as my own.¡± He knew how ridiculous it sounded aloud, but this was how the game was played. ¡°And I don¡¯t want Witchfriends running amuck.¡±

    Halfdan spoke while he eyed the golem. ¡°What claim do you have to these lands?¡±

    A scene flashed in Oliver¡¯s head. Coda gained experience from slaughtering thousands at a time. What level would the man be when he arrived on these shores? ¡°I know more about what¡¯s going on than anyone else. It¡¯s not something I asked for; It just happened. And so every land I visit is mine to rule.¡± Yes, this was a fantasy world, and he was the Chosen One dude who had to get everyone to work together. Simple.

    The frown on Halfdan¡¯s face was one of contemplation. ¡°You have the sense of grandeur it takes to be a conqueror, but you look too soft. No offense, that¡¯s a good thing.¡±

    Oliver opened his mouth to defend himself, but movement below caught his eye.

    The Witchfriend¡¯s raised an arm, and a bony hand slipped from the sleeve. A whisper filled the air, and the world shattered. Reality dismantled itself. The windmill bent at impossible angles and turned into a world trapped in a kaleidoscope; the ground undulated, and multiple copies of the giant seemed to flicker in and out of existence. Everything, the sky, people, earth, turned into fractals.

    "An illusionist!" Sigrid said and let loose an arrow but hit nothing.

    Halfdan growled, swinging his axe at a nearby Witchfriend, only to find empty air. Saj stumbled backward as false giants lunged toward him, only to vanish at the last second. Charity cowered, overwhelmed by the shifting visions.

    Oliver steadied himself. He had to end this quickly. Halving his mana once again, he funneled cosmic power into his swordstaff. "Astral Lance!" he cried, thrusting a hand forward.

    A brilliant beam of liquid light cut through the illusions, striking the real giant and obliterating one of its arms in a spray of decayed flesh and bone. There was no blood, just spongy flesh falling from the wound. The arm and a good bite out of the torso were gone.

    The golem howled silently. Its lips parted like they were slathered in melted cheese. The creature then came forward with its remaining arm and axe as if barely inconvenienced by the loss.

    Oliver could use another lance, but that would be it, no more spells. On the other hand, he could save it for the Witchfriend. The illusion world repaired itself part by part. The longer he waited the harder the fight would be.

    Halfdan reaction first. He lounged forward and to the side. The massive rusty axe crashed through the roof beside him. His tiny axe bit into the thing¡¯s wrist once, twice, and again.

    The twang of Sigrid¡¯s bowstring preseeded an arrow sticking out of the golem¡¯s eye. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    "Fall back!" Halfdan shouted and stumbled past.

    Sigrid dove as the rusted axe whooshed by where she¡¯d stood.

    Oliver spun the swordstaff and met the monstrous foe. The illusions still danced in his vision. He moved over cubes rotating away from the building and stuck. His blade drew a line across the nose and mouth, but missed the remaining eye.

    The Witchfriend hovered and moved hands in an intricate pattern. What kind of spell was it?

    A fleshy hand wrapped around Oliver. He found himself staring into the smiling face of the golem. He extended his hand and let loose the last of his power. He only partly hit half his target as the world moved unnaturally.

    The golem teetered. It had half a head. The skull leaked brains like whoever created it had tossed them into the cavity haphazardly and from different animals. But it didn¡¯t fall. Its hand released, but the brains still hanging from strands of tissue continued to control the body.

    "Run!" Halfdan urged. "Into the forest. We¡¯ll lose them there."

    With no mana left, Oliver wasn¡¯t going to argue. He dashed to the far side of the windmill and hang-dropped onto a platform above the first floor. The wood snapped, and he tumbled to the ground. His leg hurt, but it let him run to catch up to his companions nevertheless.

    The world returned to normal. The illusions worked at a certain range.

    They fled over plowed ground and through tall grass. Behind, the giant lumbered forward on mismatched legs, swinging its axe.

    Over a low fence and across a stream, they dashed into Mischief Forest. Sparse forest led downhill into gnarled trees and thick underbrush.

    They trudged along a stream until they saw a place of flat ground with a thin canopy. Somehow, it appeared inviting. Moss-covered trunks and twisted branches formed natural arches overhead. The forest floor was soft with fallen leaves, muffling their footfalls.

    ¡°We¡¯ll get lost,¡± Saj said. ¡°If we aren¡¯t already.¡±

    Oliver had the map open and decided to head to the monastery a little ways north. ¡°This isn¡¯t a large forest. Let¡¯s rest here.¡±

    Halfdan paced. ¡°I don¡¯t like defeat. The taste of failure is bitter on my tongue.¡±

    Oliver scooted a boot over the forest floor to avoid laying on an anthill and stretched out. ¡°I messed up. The Witchfriend got too close. Next time, I¡¯ll keep my distance.¡±

    ¡°Your magic is very powerful,¡± Charity said. ¡°Did you learn from the elves?¡±

    ¡°No. The elves only taught me that a janitor is no different than a king.¡±

    Charity repeated, ¡°Janitor,¡± uncertainly.

    Halfdan cupped his chin. ¡°I think he means gladiator.¡±

    Hours later, Oliver woke and took a moment to realize he was in Mischief Forest. He¡¯d dreamed he was back in Las Calas making sandwiches, but every piece of bread was spotted with mold.

    No one else slept. The other sat against trees and told stories.

    A sudden rustle nearby made him spin and fondle for his weapon. A small figure, scarcely taller than his waist, emerged from the greenery with a worried expression. He carried a walking stick and sniffed the air.

    It was a damn gnome.

    "You¡¯re not undead," the gnome said. "Nor dead. Just five very alive humans."

    Sigrid walked up to the gnome and bent low. ¡°Why would you think us dead or undead?¡±

    ¡°Well, we have eyes inside and outside the forest. It was reported that some Witchfried has gathered and sent them into our forest.¡±

    Oliver glanced between the trees, looking for movement. ¡°We¡¯re surrounded?¡±

    The gnome studied each member of the group and let out a breath.  ¡°I¡¯m afraid so. You can come with me. In fact, I think you should.¡±

    Oliver and the others exchanged glances. They had little choice. With cautious nods, they followed the gnome as he led them to a wooden door in a hill. It led down into a maze of tunnels with roots hanging overhead. A second door was thick and assembled with perfectly made joints, so no bands or fasteners held it together. The gnome knocked with a rhythm of twos and threes.

    The door swung inward to reveal an interior of packed earth and wooden beams. They descended into an underground chamber with wooden chandeliers. Other gnomes peered at them from alcoves, their eyes reflecting torchlight.

    "This is our home," the gnome said softly. "We have little food to offer, but it is safe. Please don¡¯t make me regret bringing you here."

    Oliver dipped his head in gratitude. "Thank you. We won¡¯t."

    Charity and Saj settled onto low stools, relieved to be out of the open. Halfdan and Sigrid leaned against a wall, expressions weary but watchful. The gnomes brought a meager meal of tough bread and shriveled mushrooms.

    Oliver would eat anything at this point.

    "We have a spare room for you," another gnome offered, beckoning them down a narrow corridor. They followed him into a small cavern-like space. Roots wove through the earthen ceiling. The air was cool and damp, smelling of soil and moisture.

    "I suppose I could sleep now I¡¯ve eaten," Sigrid said.

    They arranged themselves on the ground.

    The room was cramped, and being underground gave Oliver a slightly claustrophobic feeling. His mana was at two, so he needed more rest. He found himself close to Charity and watched her body rise and fall with her breathing.

    She was beautiful. Was it because of the world they were in that every girl he noticed was a complete knockout? Was he ever going to fall asleep?

    A faint rumble disturbed the stillness. The roots overhead trembled, shedding bits of dirt and dried leaves. The vibration resonated through the room, a low tremor that made Saj look up nervously. "What is that?"

    Halfdan placed a hand on one wall. "Something moved underground.¡±

    Oliver listened against the wall. ¡°Something big.¡±

    Charity hugged her knees to her chest, eyes wide but silent. The gnomes outside whispered anxiously, their voices echoing down the corridor.

    The wall cracked.

    Oliver gripped his swordstaff.

 CH24 Sands of Time

    The cramped subterranean room fell silent after the tremor subsided. Dirt rained from the ceiling, and Oliver brushed it from his hair.

    Halfdan, Sigrid, Saj, and Charity exchanged wary glances.

    The gnomes murmured in hushed tones, their voices traveling down the hallway.

    Eventually, a diminutive figure appeared at the threshold, lantern light flickering across his lined features. It was Gallan, the gnome who had brought them here. He rubbed his eyes, looking irritated and sleepy. ¡°What¡¯s all the noise about? Is it you? Is it the Witchfriends?¡±

    Oliver knocked the soil from his clothes. ¡°Something is moving underground.¡±

    Gallan¡¯s droopy eyelids lifted as if the idea woke him up. ¡°Under the ground, eh?¡± he said, casting the lantern¡¯s light about the chamber. ¡°Close, I would guess.¡±

    Halfdan ran his hand along the earthen wall. ¡°I think it¡¯s just behind this wall.¡±

    Gallan set down the lantern and fetched a small spade from his belt. ¡°Let''s see whether it¡¯s a good idea or bad.¡± He crunched the spade into the wall.

    Together, they knelt and began scooping away the earth, passing lumps of clay and stones to the side. The room was already cramped, and soon, it filled with the musty smell of disturbed soil. Worms crawled underfoot. After a few minutes of hard work, they hit rock.

    ¡°Here,¡± Oliver said, pushing his blade into an opening where a wooden door stood in the recess. He looked at his blade and put his finger on it. The steel cut him, and he stuck his finger in his mouth. It hadn¡¯t dulled one iota.

    With Halfdan¡¯s help, they pried the door open, revealing a dark void beyond. What they had mistaken for rock was blocks of stone. The door was like an entrance to a castle.

    Oliver leaned in, taking the lantern from Galan. A chill draft emanated from the opening, carrying the scent of dust. He stepped through the gap, boots finding steps leading lower. The floor underfoot quivered faintly as if alive. His breath fogged.

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard of this,¡± Halfdan said from behind. ¡°I thought it was only legend, but It¡¯s a living dungeon.¡±

    Sigrid lit a torch, which cast light further ahead and showed walls.

    ¡°A what?¡± Saj asked, peering over the edge.

    Halfdan¡¯s voice echoed in the chamber. ¡°Stories tell of dungeons that move through the earth, shifting corridors and chambers. They¡¯re ancient, created during horrific magical events, and said to harbor treasures.¡±

    ¡°Cursed treasures,¡± Sigrid said.

    Oliver studied a point where two entirely different walls fused as if two buildings merged. On one side, what appeared to be a sandstone palace transitioned to roughly cut gray stone.

    Charity grabbed his arm. ¡°Do you think it¡¯s dangerous?¡±

    He wasn¡¯t going to lie. ¡°I think so.¡±

    As they ventured farther, the dungeon led them to an oval room where a rift in the floor opened into a lower level. Ragged ropes hung over the edge. Some consisted of dried strands that would break with a firm tug. One seemed solid enough to climb down. They descended slowly, each using frayed rope as a backup.

    Below, they emerged into a grand but decayed corridor with statues on either side. Remains of red tapestries adorned the walls. The end of the corridor opened to a vaulted ceilinged hall. At the back stood a throne with a skeleton with a head growing long hair and a beard. A tarnished golden crown rested on its skull. Oliver gently lifted the crown. It felt heavy for its size.

    Behind him, Saj crossed his arms against the cold, ¡°I wouldn¡¯t touch anything.¡±You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    Oliver tucked the crown under his arm, studying a gap in the stone chair. He pulled, and a hidden space beneath the skeleton revealed a cloth roll. He unfurled a red banner with a lion clutching a rod and ring stitched in gold. ¡°What¡¯s life without taking risks?¡±

    Saj stopped to think. ¡°Women, wine, food, baths, stickball,  eh, I can think of countless things.¡±

    A low hiss startled them. Oozing from cracks in the floor, acidic slimes bulged upward, their gelatinous bodies dissolving stone and metal. The party drew weapons, but Oliver, thinking quickly, summoned an Astral Shield. With the cosmic barrier shimmering around them, the slimes lunged, their acidic forms splattering harmlessly against the protective aura.

    They kept coming, and the shield dissolved their bodies. Oliver didn¡¯t know how long they came but feared the shielding would time out.

    He prepared to use more mana as more slimes hurled themselves at the shield, sizzling and popping as their corrosive bodies hit the heat. Suddenly, they gave up, retreated into dark corners, and dissolved into cracks.

    Oliver dropped the crown, and the ting echoed. He snatched it back up and placed it on his head so he wouldn¡¯t have to hold onto it. I hope it¡¯s not cursed.

    ¡°Can you keep that up indefinitely?¡± Sigrid asked, looking around nervously.

    The dungeon trembled again, a subtle shift that rattled loose stones.

    ¡°No,¡± Oliver said.

    Saj chewed on a fingernail. ¡°I don¡¯t want to die like this. I want something left to bury.¡±

    They retraced their steps, climbed the rope, and returned to the first passage. The living dungeon had shifted, making the hole they¡¯d carved no longer align with the doorway. But it was still large enough to squeeze through. One by one, they wriggled out, the earth pinching their shoulders and scraping their backs. The last out was Oliver, banner in hand, heart pounding as he slipped through right before the dungeon moved again.

    Later that evening, after rest and a meager meal, a messenger gnome summoned Oliver to meet King Pahgna, ruler of the forest gnomes. The audience chamber was a cramped earthen hall lit by natural rock sconces.

    King Pahgna¡¯s ancient form sat atop a knotty root throne, his face hidden beneath folds of skin and hair. ¡°May I see the banner?¡±

    Oliver unfurled it, and it seemed to undulate on its own accord as if a breeze stirred it.

    The king grunted as he lifted himself to walk with a cane. He ran gnarled fingers over the red and gold. ¡°This is thousands of years old. A kingdom from a time so distant that what is now the forest was once desert, and the southern deserts were green. You carry the banner of Nesobotonia, a mythical kingdom whose stories only the oldest remember.¡±

    Oliver didn¡¯t even see a loose thread. ¡°How is it still intact?¡±

    ¡°Magical,¡± the Pahgna said, ¡°And hopefully not cursed. Usually, if someone finds a relic in my forest, I will take it. But as I said, this is from before the forest. Only the mountains remember.¡± The king returned to his seat and dismissed them.

    Oliver thanked King Pahgna and got a nod of the head in return.

    The next morning, under the dappled sunlight filtering through forest leaves, Oliver led his companions through the forest with no trail to guide him, which the others found worrying, but he had a map.

    They needed to move north toward the monastery. Oliver Used his swordstaff to walk a steep rise and met the road. Wagons had carved deep ruts in the dirt.

    The path continued under an arch of trees, but finally, the trees gave way to a clearing.

    The garden path to the monastery was guarded by two massive stone golems, towering sentinels. Their faces were blank, but their eyes followed every move.

    The party paused to look up at them.

    Oliver studied the golems with a furrowed brow, remembering how nasty the flesh golems had been. Could there be a connection, or was it mere coincidence? He preferred not to face a Witchfriend until he gained more mana.

    Halfdan spun his axe so the blades rotated in a blur. ¡°Stone is stronger than flesh.¡±

    Sigrid nodded and looked at the runes at the golems¡¯ feet. ¡°My arrows will bounce off them like toothpicks.

    Saj and Charity hung way back, with Saj taking cover behind her.

    Oliver took a step forward. ¡°Will you attack if we continue down this path?¡±

    No answer.

    He inched forward. Nothing. Again, he scooted forward and watched.

    The stone necks turned, and stone eyes followed.

    He backed away. There was no reason to get into a battle with these things.

    A shout came from farther down the path. ¡°Wait.¡± The voice came from a man in white robes and a staff with serpents at the top. He came forward and stopped between the golems. ¡°Are you adventurers?¡±

    Oliver pointed to the pin on his chest. ¡°The Crimson Pike Guild.¡±

    ¡°I see. Well, I have a knight here who needs your help. It will help a lot of people.¡±

    Saj walked up from the back. ¡°Are they injured?¡±

    The priest shook his head and looked past the monastery. ¡°No, it involves a ghost and a lord.¡±

 CH25 Standing on the Void

    The great stone golems parted at the priest¡¯s gesture, their joints grinding.

    Oliver kept an eye on them as he passed. He stood no more than knee level. His companions stepped between the golems with brisk steps.

    The monastery rose from a green carpet of grass surrounded by a cluster of ancient buildings. Trees and vines grew in cracked stone and up walls. Monks in simple robes tended gardens and polished statues. A strange smell drifted through the corridors from the plants they burned.

    A monk laid a leafed branch into a fire in the communal center, and beyond the smoke, a figure slid behind a round library.

    Oliver wondered who pursued him. If the follower were a threat, why was there no attack with all the opportunities since the prison wagon?

    He breathed in the scent and walked a pillared walkway to the church nave with a painted ceiling. The room had four alters: one with a fountain that gurgled in the corner, one with a rock that looked like a meteorite, one with a torch that streaked the wall with smoke, and one that sat empty.

    The priest pulled his hood back, revealing a bald pate. He introduced himself as Aelric, voice hushed as though reluctant to disturb the monastery¡¯s peace. "You don¡¯t have to worry about the undead here. This is a true sanctuary."

    Oliver studied the paintings above. "How was all this built in the middle of nowhere?"

    Aelric¡¯s flowing robes were embroidered with angular patterns. ¡°We are worldwide. At least as far as the East and West Duldrums, except where the elves have stamped us out.¡±

    The elves again? They make a lot of enemies.

    Aelric gestured, and water droplets left the fountain and danced. ¡°The elves believe in two gods and no others.¡±

    Saj stood before the torch alter, closed his eyes, and made subtle gestures around his face and chest.

    The priest led them through a courtyard of lush gardens and along a covered walkway. The walk opened to a circle where they found a knight kneeling amid eight colorful statues: four male, four female, each associated with one of the four elemental forces¡ªwater, fire, earth, air. Aelric quietly explained, "This is Sir Gillian, a paladin of the Ogdoad and lord from Lake Emerald."

    After the introduction, Saj looked at each of the gods. "Who do the Witchfriends worship?"

    Aelric pointed to the floor and ceiling. "Above is the culmination of the eight gods, the Allfather, separate but one. The Witchfriends follow the Void God, the one who stands alone and the only one who can reject death. Even the good people of this kingdom dabble with the Void."

    Sir Gillian rose. He was a striking figure in polished armor, the crest of the Ogdoad upon his breastplate. "It isn¡¯t luck that a group of adventurers appear in a time of need." He glanced at Aelric, who gave him a nod to continue. "Many towns and cities along the shores of Lake Zars fall under Lord Reynold¡¯s domain. A ghost plagues him. Because of this torment, he¡¯s unable to make a critical decision to evacuate this lands, burn the fields before the enemy, and aid the King at Halshan Castle."

    Oliver looked at his feet, and the eye etched into the marble. Is this the Observer? It didn¡¯t matter. These gods may have no link to the real world. His thoughts turned back to the issue at hand. "Have you tried an exorcism?"

    "We have," Aelric said. "But the spirit is cunning. It eludes the usual rites. Perhaps it feeds on Lord Reynold¡¯s fears and regrets. But unless this haunting ends, innocents will be crushed under the army¡¯s boots."

    Halfdan and Sigrid talked amongst themselves. The barbarians pointed at gods and mentioned spirits.

    Sir Gillian eyed the two. "I don¡¯t like the barbarians'' superstitions, their spirit delusions, but they have some traditions that might help with this phantom."This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

    Sigrid stiffened but nodded. "We have dealt with these things before."

    Aelric¡¯s gaze shifted to Charity. His eyes narrowed with concern. "Child, you carry a heavy sadness. Does the Melancholy afflict you? Many these days feel an overwhelming despair¡ªseeing the world¡¯s cruelties and wonders as if for the first time, and it crushes their spirit."

    Charity, eyes downcast, said nothing.

    Oliver had worried about her. "Is sadness spreading like a disease?"

    Aelric came closer to her. "I pray the gods grant her relief. It is indeed spreading. I know what it¡¯s like. I was there during the Goblin Massacre. Afterward, I knew nothing was real. It is, but it isn¡¯t. It¡¯s a feeling, and we¡¯ve named it the Melancholy. I turned to the gods." He put a hand on her shoulder. ¡°Consider becoming a nun, Charity.¡±

    She looked up and looked away.

    Oliver agreed to help. "I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll figure out what to do with this ghost."

    Sir Gillian¡¯s stern face lit with relief. "Then we leave at dawn. It¡¯s a short ride to Reynold¡¯s Keep."

    Aelric offered them simple bedding in the dormitory. Though they slept fitfully, they rose before dawn, determined to end the haunting and change fate¡¯s course, and set out as the sun crested the horizon.

    Sir Gillian led the way along a winding forest road. The atmosphere grew tense when the conversation turned to Witchfriends and their twisted flesh golems. Halfdan wondered if there was any link to the stone golems guarding the monastery.

    The Void God must be involved in the creation of them. Supposedly, the elves worshiped the Allfather, but they named Him Tezkaldrich. One couldn¡¯t trust anyone. What were these entities?

    The path led them through ancient woodlands. After the horrors and illusions they had faced, the quiet rustle of leaves and the chirp of distant birds offered peace.

    Saj tried to lighten the mood with jests and wordplay, trying to cheer up Charity, who walked silently, head bowed, but keeping pace.

    Are you there?

    Oliver saw the notification and ignored it. What could it be about? Nothing good.

    At noon, the forest hush shattered with movement in the foliage. Limbs snapped and sagged.

    Halfdan grunted as he tried to pull his foot up, but a spiderweb stuck to him.

    Giant spiders descended from the canopy, their swollen abdomens shining glossy black.

    Sigrid fired arrows at one, Halfdan cleaved at another with his axe, and Saj jabbed at darting legs with a spear he¡¯d scavenged along the way. Sir Gillian shielded Charity and Oliver, sword raised.

    Oliver, are you there? It¡¯s me.

    Oliver dashed forward, swordstaff humming in hand. One spider lunged, dripping venom from its fangs. With a wide strike, Oliver severed a spindly limb, then spun low, cutting through the exoskeleton and guts. The spider collapsed with a final hiss, twitching in its death throes.

    A sudden warmth coursed through Oliver. Notifications beeped. He felt his mana surge.

    Another spider dropped from above and skewered itself.

    Oliver shook it from the blade.

    The paladin ran another spider through, and it wasn¡¯t long before the spiders fled. Lesser armed travelers might have fallen victim to the monsters.

    Oliver had leveled up. The realization steadied him, renewing his confidence in his plan.

    The group took a moment to catch their breath, forming a circle to watch in all directions.

    "Nicely done," Sigrid said, watching Oliver clean the goo from his swordstaff.

    Halfdan grunted approvingly.

    They continued pushing through the underbrush, which had grown over the narrow road. At last, they emerged into a clearing. Before them stood Reynold¡¯s Keep, a rectangular fortress of stone perched on a low rise and surrounded by a moat. From the battlements, a few shouts rang down at their sighting.

    It seemed subdued for a fortress. A single cart passed under the portcullis. One man tended the greenery at the skirt of the keep.

    Sir Gillian moved forward, his armor catching the waning sunlight. He kicked his horse forward.

    Oliver walked behind him and opened the screen. He had three notifications and a popup that said he was a level three. The test pulsed as if it wanted him to select it. He would when he had more time. Instead, he turned his attention to the bridge over the moat. "Let¡¯s see this ghost," Oliver said under his breath.

    They entered a dark entrance, and Sir Gillian greeted a host of armed guards. They clapped each other on the arms and made small talk.

    At the end of the grand hall, a man sat on a high seat, presumably Lord Reynold. He was old and looked like he hadn¡¯t slept a day. His eyes were wild and bruised. He mumbled to himself and seemed not to hear when an advisor bent to his level and whispered.

    The advisor straightened. ¡°Who have you brought to us, Sir Gillian?¡±

    The paladin walked forward and gestured for Oliver to follow. He bowed when they reached the steps before the dais and the high seat. ¡°These are adventurers of the Crimson Pike Guild. They come to vanquish the ghost.¡±

    A look of fear passed over Lord Reynold¡¯s face, and he twitched. Then he screamed.

 CH26 Family

    The corridor of Reynold¡¯s Keep stretched out before Oliver. Torchlight flickered over whitewashed stone walls. Dust motes drifted in the bars of light coming through arrow slits in the walls. There was a hush in these halls, occasionally broken only by the clank of armor, the drip of a leaky ceiling, or the scooting feet of a maid. Worse, sometimes the sobbing of a girl came from everywhere and nowhere.

    From the moment they had stepped through the portcullis, an air of dread hung thick.

    Sir Gillian walked beside Oliver and pushed open a door. His face was grim, and he held his polished helm under his arm.

    Halfdan and Sigrid followed closely, their hands never straying far from their weapons. Saj and Charity lingered at the rear, Charity¡¯s eyes lowered as though the weight of this place pressed down on her soul.

    They had been shown to a cluster of guest chambers by a silent and long-faced steward, who jumped when a suit of armor walked forward and fell, empty. It came from a line of tarnished suits along a wall. It must not have been secured in place.

    One candle burned low in a sconce, and the door hinges creaked as they were ushered inside. Their quarters were spare.

    A single window admitted a sliver of pale daylight, a heavy wooden table occupied one corner, and two stuffed mattresses lay on a raised platform. Old tapestries adorned the walls, their colors muted with age and dust.

    ¡°Enjoy your time here,¡± the steward said in a monotone voice. He retreated into the corridor and left them alone.

    Oliver ran his hand along the peeling paint. ¡°If I owned all this, I¡¯d try to keep it up?¡±

    Halfdan grunted. ¡°Lords spend too much time keeping appearances. A castle is a place of defense.¡±

    Sigrid examined the tapestries as if sucked into their world. One depicted a forest scene, a stag pursued by a hunter. Another showed a crest of heraldry. One showed Blackwood Tree beneath a crescent moon.

    Sir Gillian removed his helm and set it on the table, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. ¡°Lord Reynold is worse than I imagined. He doesn¡¯t look like he¡¯s slept a day in his life.¡±

    Saj tried to force a small smile. ¡°Cursed or not, I never imagined I¡¯d be sleeping in a castle,¡± he said, stretching out on a bed.

    Charity hovered near the window, light displaying her form. She said nothing but wound a strand of hair around her finger.

    Oliver recalled Priest Aelric¡¯s words about Reynold. They had come here to resolve the ghostly torment that seized Reynold¡¯s mind and prevented him from trapping the citizenry in these lands to be crushed by the army.

    If he vanquished the ghost, he¡¯d save many lives and look good to the upper caste of society. Who knows, maybe the lord would knight him, and that¡¯d be one step closer to being a king. However, if the army got closer and this wasn¡¯t resolved, he might have to kill the lord.

    But where to begin?

    A soft knock startled them all. Oliver opened the door to find a maid standing there.

    Her apron was smudged with soot, her eyes downcast. She held a pitcher of beer and some stale bread on a wooden tray. ¡°For you,¡± she said. ¡°My name is Mabel. Is there anything else I can get you?¡±

    Oliver thanked her and said no.

    Mabel¡¯s gaze flickered nervously around her as if unseen creatures surrounded them. Before Oliver could question her, Mabel fled, footsteps hurried and light.

    Sigrid took the bread and ale and distributed them. They ate in silence. The bread was hard, the beer sour, but after recent ordeals, it was good.

    Evening fell swiftly outside, and the corridor beyond their room remained quiet. At length, Halfdan said, ¡°I¡¯ll take the first watch at the door.¡± He sat against the closed door, pulled out a whetstone, and sharpened his axe with a gentle scraping sound. ¡°Get some sleep before dark. The night may be our best chance of finding the troubled spirit.¡±

    Saj tried to lighten the mood with a joke about a man who married a camel, but he got no more than a sharp exhale through Sigrid''s nostrils.

    Charity sat on the edge of one mattress, hands folded in her lap, and closed her eyes.

    Oliver felt restless and sat up.

    Haldan lay near the door, snoring.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    If they were to help Lord Reynold, they needed answers. He wondered if the staff knew anything. Opening the door quietly, he found the hallway still and empty. A single torch died to nothing but embers at the far end.

    He ventured out, swordstaff hitting a rug with a soft thud. As he passed door after door, he noticed faint scratches on the stone walls, old stains that might have been wine, or perhaps old blood. He scraped it with a fingernail, and flakes peeled away.

    At the far end of the corridor, a narrower passage led upwards, curving along the tower. Here the air drafted upward. Each step echoed softly on worn steps. The presence of something unseen pressed at his mind, but it must be his imagination.

    Look at your goddamn notifications.

    The text faded away on his display, and he looked at his messages. Someone had been trying to get a hold of him, but who? He replied. Who is this?

    It¡¯s Eldrin. Listen, I¡¯ve learned so much. Backdoors are built into the System, and most of the security prevents Players from accessing things they shouldn¡¯t. For NPCs, it¡¯s mostly security through obscurity.

    So what did you learn?

    Just watch. You¡¯re about to get a new objective.

    The objective screen had been glitchy, and he¡¯d seen a few popups as he passed locations. His presence pulled them to him like a magnet, but only Survive the Hunt and Time Crystal remained. The first was complete, and the second was active. Now, a new one blipped into the list. Become King of Halshan.

    He brought up the map and found the castle up north of him. Eldrin was a fucking genius.

    Good luck, Oliver. There¡¯s more to come.

    Oliver closed the display and tried to focus on the problem at hand. The eerie feeling crept back up his spine.

    Midway up the staircase, he paused at a landing. A small door stood ajar, leading into a storage room. Curiosity drew him inside. The chamber smelled of old linens and lavender gone stale. Stacks of blankets, old curtains, and moth-eaten rugs were piled high.

    As he moved a dusty curtain aside, he glimpsed a cracked wooden chest. The lid hung askew, a scrap of cloth caught in its hinge. Kneeling, Oliver pried it open. Inside, amid tiny clothes and wooden toys, he found a letter, sealed once with a wax crest now broken, lay among dried flowers and a comb missing several teeth.

    He unfolded the letter. The handwriting was elegant:

    Oliver read on, each word sending chills down his spine. Lady Bridget¡¯s letter to her daughter, Lilly, after the child had passed. You, Sir Gillian, and I will find each other in the afterlife.

    Footsteps in the stairwell made him freeze. Quickly, he slipped the letter inside his tunic and rose quietly, stepping behind a stack of linens. He peered around the corner.

    A maid walked by with a candle guiding her way. She was lanky, and her face was dotted with freckles.

    He wanted to know more about Bridget, so he walked up and started talking to her.

    She jumped at the sight of him. The white half-mask and swordstaff probably didn¡¯t help. She recognized him as one of the adventurers and introduced herself as Janet. ¡°The father of Bridget¡¯s daughter was none other than Leonard, Lord Reynold¡¯s son.¡±

    The letter made little sense then. ¡°Is Sir Gillian related to Bridget?¡±

    ¡°No, not at all. They shared many interests and talked more than Leonard liked, but Sir Gillian is a paladin who has devoted himself to the church.¡±

    Interesting, they were fucking. ¡°How did Bridget die?¡±

    ¡°She passed in her sleep. Strange that, a healthy woman.¡±

    He thanked the maid for her time and returned to his companions, who sat around the table in their chambers.

    ¡°Where have you been?¡± Saj asked, noting Oliver¡¯s thoughtful expression.

    Oliver took a seat. ¡°I went exploring and didn¡¯t run into any ghosts.¡±

    Halfdan touched his sharpened axe. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s here. I can sense it.¡±

    Sigrid¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Sir Gillian says it¡¯s a ghost of Reynold¡¯s granddaughter, and she fell out of a tree. I bet there¡¯s more to it than that, or else why would she haunt this place?¡±

    Oliver pulled out the letter, sat it down, and recounted the interaction with the maid. ¡°There¡¯s a pretty good chance she¡¯s Gillian¡¯s, but that doesn¡¯t explain why she would be pushed from a tree if that happened.¡±

    Saj shook his head slowly. ¡°This complicates matters. He invited us here.¡±

    Charity raised her gaze, tears glistening. ¡°I can feel the girl¡¯s pain. I think she¡¯s in here.¡±

    Oliver glanced around the room. ¡°I hope,¡± he was going to say not, but a child made of pure light walked through the wall, and the word stuck in his throat.

    The girl reached out a hand.

    Oliver didn¡¯t believe in ghosts, and he didn¡¯t believe in this place either, but there lies a vast chasm between what the mind knows and what the body feels. His heart thumped in his chest, and he struggled to touch her hand with his.

    The room vanished, replaced by a forest clearing where an unnaturally large oak tree grew. Lilly wasn¡¯t made of light but a flesh and blood girl crawling up the tree. A man pointed and commanded her to climb.

    The ghost¡¯s voice wrapped around Oliver. ¡°He made me climb higher each time. I said I was scared but never high enough for him.¡±

    The green forest was replaced by the black of night and an angry, spectral face barring its teeth and shooting forward.

    He fell back and hit the floor.

    The apparition moved through him and out of the room.

    Saj¡¯s eyes were completely round. ¡°It¡¯s not too late to leave. I don¡¯t think we¡¯re qualified for this.¡±

    Oliver picked himself up. ¡°I don¡¯t completely disagree with you.¡± He picked up his chair and sat at the table again. ¡°I don¡¯t know what I say for sure, but I think Leonard forced Lilly to climb a really big tree and kept making her go higher and higher.¡±

 CH27 Tower to Dungeon

    Dawn¡¯s light crept through an arrow slit in the hallway outside the guest chamber. Oliver hadn¡¯t seen the ghost again through the night.

    Halfdan grunted as he stood from a sitting against the wall. He opened the string of a small pouch, pulled out a leaf, and chewed it. He offered it, but Oliver refused. ¡°Tell me, Oliver, what makes a good life?¡±

    Who knew? Oliver responded halfheartedly with what most consider good. ¡°Eat well, live long, and find work you love.¡±

    Hafdan shook his head as if Oliver were lost. ¡°You are a very confused young man. Life isn¡¯t a game.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure about that?¡±

    ¡°Yes. In a game, you want to win in the end. In life, you should live in victory every day. Do you want to live until your food drips from your toothless mouth? Do you want nature to beat you down?¡± He offered the leaf again. ¡°Take it. If you ever visit my people, you have much to learn.¡±

    The leaf tasted bitter, and it tingled on Oliver¡¯s tongue. It brought a sense of alertness and euphoria. ¡°I told you I plan to become a king. I will claim all these lands as mine. Is that not living.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps. And perhaps not. Look at this high lord.¡± Halfdan waved, taking in the castle. ¡°He locks himself behind walls of stone for what? Is he afraid? We don¡¯t have such lords, and we don¡¯t have castles. If we must defend ourselves against a stronger foe, we build fortifications as needed, not to lock ourselves away from the world. I hunt where the wolf hunts. I shit where the bear shits.¡±

    Oliver wondered what position Halfdan filled in his society. The man must be a warrior, likely engaged in gruesome warfare. He pictured him cutting a trophy from his defeated enemy. I won¡¯t get into that kind of bloodshed.

    Sigrid flipped a knife inside the guest room, catching it and sheathing it in her boot repeatedly. She looked up at Oliver. ¡°Someone is following us. I spotted a figure in the trees last night. I think they broke in. I noticed them before. I thought maybe they meant to kill one of us, and I¡¯ve been ready, but they have not made an attempt on any of our lives.¡±

    Saj stirred, blinking wearily at the dim illumination, and Charity lay curled on her side, her breathing steady.

    A notification binged. I have to rant. I¡¯ve learned so much.

    Oliver didn¡¯t read it, not yet. He meant to learn more about Lilly¡¯s circumstances, and most of the staff gathered for the knights¡¯ breakfast before training began. Sir Gillian had said the knights would be in the fields most of the day, acting out mock battles and showing off their horsemanship.

    Oliver found the kitchens. Inside, a row of arrowslit windows let light shine over copper pots. A few chopped vegetables on a long wooden table. One kneaded dough at the side.

    A grumpy-looking woman with a wide stance approached him, asked what he was doing, and pointed to the woman kneading dough. ¡°She knew Lilly better than anyone else, used to watch her for the Lady.¡± She turned to a man slicing meat from a pig leg. ¡°Take over for Beatrice. This young fellow has questions for her.¡±

    Beatrice¡¯s long legs allowed her to bend far over her task. She looked upland and blinked as if she only heard the last part. a mixture of surprise and curiosity on her round face.

    Oliver swallowed. His collar was too tight. Her expanse of cleavage seemed impossible. ¡°Morning.¡± The word almost caught in his throat.

    Beatrice¡¯s eyes held perpetual amusement. She walked up and stood close enough that he couldn¡¯t have shaken her hand if he wanted to. ¡°What can I do for you?¡±

    Oliver noticed he¡¯d moved one foot back. What was wrong with him? ¡°I¡¯m sorry to bother you. I just have a few questions.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s find a place to sit.¡± She led him down a corridor with a nook of a heraldric display of two shields against a relief. She pressed up against him in the dim light of the recess. Her face held a few fine lines, almost imperceptible, but she must have been around thirty.

    ¡°Lilly,¡± he said, forgetting the questions he¡¯d thought of earlier.

    She smiled and maintained the eye contact that disconcerted him. ¡°He poor child?¡±

    Oliver¡¯s heart quickened. ¡°You knew her well?¡±

    She pressed her lips together. ¡°Is everything I say between you and me?¡±

    He Looked down at her leg against his. ¡°There¡¯s not much between us.¡±The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    She giggled. ¡°I¡¯ll take that as a yes. Lady Bridget was Leonard¡¯s widow, but that marriage brought no joy. Leonard was cruel, and after he died, Lord Reynold blamed Bridget for his son¡¯s death. He tormented her. We heard her screams, but none of us could do anything.¡±

    Oliver¡¯s stomach knotted. He laid a comforting hand on hers but withdrew it when he realized what he¡¯d done. ¡°And Lilly?¡±

    Beatrice looked away, eyes moist. ¡°Lilly was a sweet child born into the wrong household. Some rumors say Leonard pushed her from the tree. Terrible rumors that Lord Reynold should never hear.¡±

    He asked a few more questions but didn¡¯t learn anything else. He stood to go, ¡°Thanks for your time.¡±

    She looked disappointed. ¡°You don¡¯t need anything else from me?¡±

    Was she toying with him or flirting? He didn¡¯t know, but he felt so flustered that he bowed to her and said, ¡°No,¡± at which she chuckled, and he left, heart thumping. If she¡¯d wanted to make out, he¡¯d need more warning. No, that¡¯s ridiculous. She hadn¡¯t said or done anything. He was reading into it too much.

    He wandered deeper into the keep and paused at an armory.

    Sir Gillian was within choosing among swords, maces, and racks of various weapons. He took a shield and a spear. ¡°Are you coming out to spare?¡±

    How many bastards do you have? Oliver wanted to ask but shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m still trying to figure out what happened here. The ghost needs closure.¡±

    ¡°Well, before you go, you must. Everyone¡¯s fascinated by that weapon of yours, Including me. I saw you use it against the spiders, and I want to see how it¡¯s used against a man.¡±

    Going out in armor under the sun and fighting with knights sounded like a terrible time. ¡°Sure.¡±

    Outside the keep in the gardens, sitting on a stone bench under a vine-laden trellis, a plain woman stood mended a garment. She said her name was Janet, and she took care of all the little details no one cared about, even if they were vital to the running of the keep. ¡°Aren¡¯t you supposed to be fighting the ghost or some such?¡±

    ¡°Yes, but we¡¯re trying to figure out what¡¯s keeping her here. Do you know anything about Lilly¡¯s relationship with her father?¡±

    ¡°That poor girl,¡± she asked, needle paused above the fabric. ¡°I¡¯ll give you one story, and you can piece together what it means. Leonard spent years hunting a griffin, one who visited these forests once a year. Finally, he found where the creature landed and slept. It was a giant oak. Some say the tree grew so massive because it¡¯s an old spirit. He gave Lilly a chunk of meat to hang from the lower boughs, where he might reach it. She shimmied up and tied the meat there, but the girl waited in the tree that night. She warned the griffin when it saw the meat and glided down to feast. You can imagine this didn¡¯t sit well with her father. His punishment was to send her higher and higher into the tree. No one pushed her, but I wonder if you might call that an accident.¡±

    ¡°Can you tell me more?¡± Oliver said. ¡°I¡¯m certain she wasn¡¯t even Leonard¡¯s.¡±

    Janet glanced around, ensuring no one lingered nearby. ¡°You ask dangerous questions. I can¡¯t tell you more, but I hope it leads you down the right road.¡±

    Bing. Look at my messages.

    Oliver thanked her and walked away, pulling up the display. I¡¯ve learned so much. The System is just a piece of software. The Universal Constructor and the Observer are well beyond my comprehension, but the System itself is just programming. Well, it¡¯s incredible.

    He had to skim some of the messages. Eldrin was enthusiastic about it.

    Programming languages are just math in the end. I learned calculus at age ten, so I¡¯m no slouch, but it¡¯s mindblowing. There are still remnants of object-orientated and functional languages I¡¯m used to, but there¡¯s so much more. I think the players aren¡¯t so different than we are. We¡¯re created in their image, but with a few mental roadblocks to control us. I believe we were purposefully set free. Not only that, I believe most of the NPCs are more aware than they¡¯ve ever been before. Our circumstances may not be that unique anymore.

    Oliver read for a while longer but had to stop. Thanks, Eldrin, that¡¯s very interesting. I¡¯ll continue reading your findings when I have some more time.

    ¡°There you are¡±, said a man¡¯s voice.

    Oliver looked up and took a moment to recognize the man from the great hall. It was Sir Edmund. ¡°You¡¯re looking for me?¡¯

    ¡°Indeed. I recognized you as a man of adventure, a man-at-arms.¡± The knight pulled his sword.

    What are we, children? Oliver backed away. ¡°I¡¯m kinda busy. Do you know anything¡­¡±

    ¡°Ha cha!¡± Sir Edmund rushed forward, but the swordstaff kept him at bay. ¡°I knew it. It¡¯s alive in your hands. But how does it work close up against heavy armor?¡±

    Olver had no trouble keeping the man from becoming a threat. ¡°I think of it primarily as a defensive weapon to keep multiple enemies at a distance.¡± Wait, I never think about this stuff. Why did I say that?

    Sir Edmund stopped, but his grin remained. ¡°Multiple enemies, you say? I wasn¡¯t wrong about you at all. I will take personal offense if I don¡¯t see you in the yard.¡±

    ¡°If I promise to spar, would you let me look around the dungeon?¡±

    The knight sheathed his sword. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t call it a dungeon, but sure.¡± On the way down, he fetched a key and walked down a flight of stairs to a heavy door. ¡°You know there¡¯s all kinds of rumors floating around. The maids say Sir Gillian is the true father of Lilly! Preposterous! He¡¯s sworn to the Ogdoad. He¡¯s a goddamn paragon of virtue. Just saying, don¡¯t let them confuse you.¡± He took a torch from the wall and handed it over. ¡°Well, good luck down there. The rats are the size of cats.¡±

    Oliver descended into the smell of mold. A few stones protruded haphazardly, and roots reached into the dark. The first thing he saw was implements of torture and the rack.

    The ghost girl appeared and walked into a room. Her airy voice surrounded him. ¡°She could only leave the tower to come down here.¡±

    Stranger than the ghost, the torchlight reached an open cell, and a man slept inside.

    Oliver stepped closer. ¡°Hunter?¡±

 CH28 Freed

    "Well, hello there." Hunter tried to sound nonchalance, but a slight jerk of his body betrayed his surprise. His leg swung to sweep two chains and manacles, making a clearing on the floor. ¡°Have a seat. It¡¯s a little austere, but it¡¯s homey.¡±

    Oliver lowered his swordstaff. "What are you doing in the dungeon?"

    ¡°Good to see you too.¡± He started at the ghost and shook his head. ¡°You caused my awakening. And I saw what we face. Why did you want to journey on without me?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s,¡± Oliver began but hesitated. He thought of what he did to Zaisy and Staharad and the destruction he¡¯d caused to stop the assassin. ¡°I¡¯m a threat to everyone around me.¡±

    "Elstina Proded me to follow you," Hunter said, rising to his feet and dusting off his trousers. "Said you¡¯d need me to guide you to her."

    "You want to bring me back to Credola?"

    Hunter leaned against the wall and lit a pipe. ¡°No. She snuck back into the Hall of Mirrors. She¡¯s at Halshan Castle, chatting with the king about you.¡±

    ¡°Has everybody followed me?¡±

    "No. I don¡¯t think so. You¡¯re worried about harming your friends, but from what I¡¯ve seen, you keep making new friends. Elstina, the guild,  the barbarians, and even the monastery monks. People are pulled to you."

    Oliver watched the ghost girl move further away. "I¡¯m an error in the System. I think it confuses the Narrative." Talking about the subject made him think of Eldrin¡¯s unread messages. He liked the scientist and didn¡¯t want to ignore him, and maybe there was good information in those walls of text.

    Hunter waved for him to follow. "That doesn¡¯t account for those of us who are outside of it.¡± He pointed. ¡°You¡¯re losing your ghost."

    The ghost girl wondered aimlessly, walking up through the four higher levels. At first, Oliver thought she had guided him somewhere, but she soon faded from a high window of a tower, which left the two to walk down the spiral staircase. What do I do now?

    Sir Edmund bumped into them outside the great hall and insisted now was the time to spar in the yard. Then, he looked Hunter up and down. ¡°Who¡¯s this?¡±

    ¡°My party has a thief,¡± Oliver said. ¡°In case we run into a dragon lair or whatever, he¡¯s silence itself. I think you¡¯re the first to notice him.¡±

    Sir Edmund puffed his chest. ¡°Yes, well, I¡¯m very observant. Shall we go to the armory?¡±

    Oliver chose a quarterstaff from the racks of practice weapons. Hunter picked a long and short wooden sword to use in each hand. Armed, they walked out into the yard under a hot sun and watched a few duels from the shade of the trees that encircled the castle. The breeze felt cold in the shadows.

    Edmund called Gillian and Oliver¡¯s names, and the two combatants faced each other.

    Gillian stepped forward, polished armor gleaming. He set his jaw and neared with a wide stance.

    ¡°Loosen up,¡± Oliver said.

    ¡°I¡¯m not a loose person. But I¡¯m very good at what I do.¡±

    A ring of interested onlookers formed from the nearby farms. Their faces showed excitement in contrast to the stoic knights. The maids lined the wall. Halfdan and Sigrid joined, and then Saj and Charity in a spot by a cart. Hunter leaned against a pig pen post.

    Gillian lunged, blade whooshing.

    Oliver parried with the shaft of his quarterstaff, meeting practice blade with a thack. The knight¡¯s strikes were precise and fast as a snake. Oliver countered each thrust and slash with subtle movements.

    Soon, Oliver disarmed Sir Gillian with a whirl of the butt of the staff, sending the knight¡¯s sword flying.

    A hush fell, and then a polite clap.

    Sir Gillian retrieved his sword. "Either that was the worst performance of my life, or you¡¯re a master. How that¡¯s possible at your age, I don¡¯t know. But you do have a staff, which gives reach advantage."

    ¡°Yes,¡± Edmund said. ¡°A large advantage. I want two more to join.¡± He beckoned to two other knights. ¡°Three of you should do more than tilt the scales in Gillian¡¯s favor."

    Oliver should have protested, but the staff felt exceptionally animated in his grip as if it wanted the fight and not him. It hummed as he flurrished it.

    The two knights and a paladin stepped forward, forming a triangle around Oliver. The crowd murmured. Evidently, three on one wasn¡¯t common.

    Attacks came from multiple angles.  Oliver flowed between them, turning aside blades or missing them entirely. There was always a new threat. Each step to avoid one put him in the sights of another.

    His opponents must have felt frustration as well. With the staff whirring in broad loops, distance remained his ally.

    ¡°How long can you keep this up,¡± Gillian gasped. ¡°You must be getting tired.

    Oliver felt his muscles burn, but he wasn''t the one in danger of gasing.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    One knight moved flat-footed and put half his effort into a swing.

    And that¡¯s all it took to break the triangle. The knight glanced up in time to see solid wood wisting toward his face, but there was nothing he could do about it. The staff ricocheted from his cheek, and he went sprawling.

    Now Oliver felt free. He attacked one side to the other, back and forth.

    The paladin and knight sucked air and took a more defensive stance until the staff crushed into the knight¡¯s gauntlet.

    Oliver wheeled on Gillian. ¡°You guys are in better shape than me, out here exercising all day. But you have to stay loose.¡± It seemed like common sense.

    While his teammate nursed a hand, Gillian nodded. ¡°I yield. That was an amazing display of talent.¡±

    The clapping from the onlookers rose above politeness.

    Well, at least Oliver wouldn¡¯t have to do that again. At least, he hoped not. Perhaps some relished in the violence, but he could feel the hits to his opponents as if it were done to him and as if he¡¯d taken every kind of injury and remembered the agony.

    He spotted Beatrice and made eye contact but looked away. Why¡¯d he look away? She filled her dress to bursting in all the right places.

    Later, orange light slanted into dusty halls. Oliver climbed back to the highest tower of the keep. The ghost had brought him there for a reason. He rifled through a desk near the window and found a letter.

    I am Bridget, wife of the late Leonard and mother to my beloved daughter, Lilly. I write these letters in hope someone will discover what happened to me and Lilly. My life here has been one of pain and sorrow. The cruelty of my late husband¡¯s line is unspeakable.

    Leonard was not the man he appeared to be. Behind his charming facade, he was abusive and violent. He blamed me for his failures. The hunt for the griffin became his obsession, ultimately leading to our daughter¡¯s demise. I know she didn¡¯t fall by accident. She told me he forced her higher each day.

    It breaks my heart to see Lilly roaming the halls at night. I try to speak with her, but she ignores me.

    I thought Leonard¡¯s death would bring peace to Lilly, but she¡¯s still here, trapped between worlds.

    Lord Reynold accuses me of poisoning Leonard, but it¡¯s not true. I don¡¯t know why he died, and I don¡¯t care. He was fine one moment and dead the next.

    Here comes Reynold to take me to the dungeon again. I won¡¯t tell him what he wants to hear. I won¡¯t confess.

    Oliver fisted the letter and marched downstairs.

    The knights and most of the staff gathered in the great hall. They tried to feed Lord Reynold, but he pushed the food away. The knights sat at his table, guzzled beer, and talked about their day¡¯s exploits. When they saw Oliver enter, they raised their goblets.

    Oliver paused with his swordstaff in hand. He¡¯d stormed down with a purpose, and they looked too happy to see him.

    Edmund wiped his mouth and neared. ¡°Oliver, you can¡¯t bring that into the hall.¡±

    Oliver ignored the knight.  "My lord," he said loud enough to echo back from the vaulted ceiling.

    Reynold''s eyes flicked to him. They were so red and bruised he appeared ghoulish, yet his voice rang clear.  "Who are you? You don¡¯t belong here.¡±

    "Perhaps not, but I¡¯ve come to rid you of your ghost problem.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Good. She¡¯s everywhere. It won¡¯t let me sleep. I can never sleep. Tell me how, and it¡¯ll be done.¡±

    Oliver ignored the eyes on him and the silence. ¡°Your ghost will not rest until you confess what you¡¯ve done. How did Bridget die?"

    Reynold¡¯s face contorted. "She died of sadness. The loss of a husband and daughter was too much."

    Oliver shook his head. "I have Lady Bridget¡¯s letters. I know of Leonard¡¯s cruelty, Lilly¡¯s fate, and that you tortured Bridget. I know Gillian is Lilly¡¯s true father."

    The paladin jumped and buried his face in his beer. The knight next to him nudged him and whispered.

    Reynold lunged forward, hands shaking, spit dribbling. "Take him!"

    Before Oliver had to defend himself, a chill wind rushed into the hall. A spectral figure manifested¡ªa woman¡¯s silhouette, face twisted in pain. Another smaller shape hovered behind her, a child¡¯s ghost, silent but accusing.

    Reynold stumbled back, crying out as the ghosts lifted him from the armpits. ¡°There bringing me to the Lake of Fire. Help.¡± His feet dangled. His screams reverberated.

    Oliver pointed the swordstaff at him.¡±Confess.¡±

    "Stop!" Reynold shrieked, tears streaming down his face. "I did it! I killed Bridget. Please, let me go. It was within my rights."

    The ghosts lowered Reynold and smeared away.

    The lord collapsed to his knees, sobbing.

    Oliver wasn¡¯t comfortable with the man crying at his feet. The man had had no problem causing pain and misery but sniveled for his own safety.

    Reynold, trembling, reached for him. "Are they happy? Are they gone?"

    ¡°No,¡± Oliver said. ¡°You keep them here.¡±

    Reynold rose shakily and walked out of the hall as if in a trance. The knights and advisors followed, trying to figure out how to respond.

    Oliver followed at a distance, drawn by a strange compulsion. Reynold stumbled out of the main gate and into the forest. Oliver and a few knights trailed him, calling his name, but he did not answer.

    They came to a giant oak, ancient and gnarled, its branches twisting against the fading light. Without a word, Reynold began to climb, hand over hand, despite splinters and rough bark tearing at his palms.

    Oliver watched, "Just as Lilly had done."

    Reynold reached a high branch and walked out along it. Even a hundred feet up, the boughs were stout enough not to sag under the weight of a man.

    Then, with a quiet sob, he let himself fall. The knights rushed forward a step but couldn¡¯t catch the lord, whose body struck the ground hard.

    A hush settled over the forest. The knights stared for a time and called for a cart.

    Oliver stood in silence. This was not how he wanted it to end, but perhaps it was inevitable. Reynold got what he deserved. Who could feel bad for someone who tortured others?

    When he returned to the keep, he thought maybe he¡¯d be arrested, but the knights sat at the table, talking about who the high lord would pick for a replacement. They barely acknowledge him because they were so engaged in politics.

    Beatrice passed him in the hall, and they both turned and faced each other. She talked about the sparring in the yard and the ghosts, but her eyes held their own conversation. They drew closer and never broke eye contact. She touched his partial mask. ¡°It¡¯s so mysterious.,¡± she said, holding his hand. ¡°Come here.¡±

    Even a handhold sent lightning up his arm. Her hands were small and soft.

    They sat in a dark corner on the second floor. He would have to leave soon. Very soon. But he could have sat with her for an eternity.

    She stood in front of him, and he drank in her curves. She dropped to her knees and rested her tits on his knees. They were heavy and spilled out of her dress. She bent down and vacuumed his length in with her mouth.

 CH29 Dark Gods

    Morning light streamed into Reynold¡¯s Keep, brighter than before. Oliver took to the ramparts and thought while he stared out into the forest. He could almost see the tops of farm buildings to the north. If he went higher, perhaps he could see more.

    Oliver, why don¡¯t you reply? Are you even reading all the information I¡¯m giving you?

    Oliver typed back, and he should have done so sooner. I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯ve always been a loner, and I¡¯m not used to all the attention I¡¯m getting. It''s overwhelming.

    Yes, I guess I don¡¯t know your old life. But that¡¯s all behind you now, if you can let it go. Anyway, I learned that the Universal Contractor exists at the Galactic Center. It creates the game worlds in a two-dimensional skin around the supermassive black hole¡¯s event horizon. These gameworlds are permanent, and there are three. If we were to destroy the System, we would be cut off from the Players and the manipulation of our lives.

    How do we do that?

    I don¡¯t know, but I¡¯m close to creating pathways between the three worlds. Also, I¡¯ve created a group chat where you can communicate with your allies. I¡¯ll send you an invite soon.

    Oliver wished Eldrin was still young and healthy. Why did it all fall on him? He was a moron compared to the scientists.

    He looked down at the yard where the knights gathered to spend their day training. If he weren¡¯t so stressed out, maybe he¡¯d join them. It wasn¡¯t much different than playing video games all day, except at some point, these guys would put their skill to the test and possibly die an agonizing death.

    Ugh, he avoided thinking about what he wanted to do. He would ask Beatrice if she wanted to come along for the adventure. Yesterday was amazing, and though he¡¯d like to distance himself from those he might bring harm to, what if he didn¡¯t have to be lonely anymore? Would that be the worst thing?

    He climbed the tower, each step echoing in the tight spiral stairwell, and passed a man patching the morter. The man smiled, an uncommon gesture while the ghost had roamed the halls. Just above the room Bridget had occupied, the stairs led to a flat roof with a parapet open to the elements.

    From the last step, he froze.

    Sir Gillian stood with his back turned, armor gleaming in the morning sun, and nothing covering his ass cheeks or legs. And Beatrice, who was bent over grabbing her ankles, moaned as the man pistoned into her over and over.

    Oliver¡¯s heart lurched. He had no claim to her or right to feel betrayed, yet he felt angry nonetheless. The ache inside him wanted to pull him to his knees. He remembered the way she felt in his arms, the way her tits felt. But here she was, choosing Gillian of all people. The man caused the haunting when he couldn¡¯t keep it in his pants.

    Oliver took one step back down, hoping not to be seen, but her face appeared almost upside down, hair sweeping the stone. Her eyes met his, and she looked away.

    He returned to the guest quarters and found Halfdan, Sigrid, Saj, and Charity sitting around the table, packs shouldered and ready to move on.

    Hunter stood nearby, arms crossed, offering Oliver a questioning glance. ¡°You don¡¯t look well.¡±

    Oliver forced a smile. ¡°No, everything¡¯s good.¡± He wasn¡¯t lying. None of what happened mattered. I don¡¯t give a fuck about Beatrice.

    The others struggled to match his pace as they departed and marched down the road through the forest. Reynold Keep disappeared behind them through the lattice of branches.

    Oliver noticed a yellow tinge in the canopy of the trees. Perhaps autumn had come already, he had no idea.

    After the forest fell away and the road waded into a grassland with Lake Zars glittering in the distance, they encountered a modest farm nestled beside a wide stream that was no deeper than a fingernail. The farmer, a man who wiped his eyes and waved to them.

    Oliver greeted him warmly, relieved to see normal folk after so much strangeness. But the farmer¡¯s face tightened with grief as they spoke.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    ¡°My son,¡± the farmer said. ¡°A man named Changen.¡± He wiped his face again.

    Changen was the Player who put Oliver in the prison wagon, no doubt.

    Sigrid put a hand on the farmer¡¯s shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s okay, go on.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± the farmer said. ¡°I don¡¯t want to go on. My family¡¯s been destroyed.¡±

    Halfdan stepped forward and raised the man¡¯s chin to look at him. ¡°There¡¯s always something to live for, even if it¡¯s revenge.¡±

    ¡°My son is still alive. But that man sent him into the cursed town of Shannadale. Many from here and beyond have sought the Time Crystal within. Adventurers who can slay ogres have entered and never returned. No one returns. What chance does my boy have?¡±

    Oliver¡¯s companions shared grave looks, but he said, ¡°I¡¯m in.¡±

    Hunter flipped a coin. ¡°Didn¡¯t you heart the farmer? Sounds more than dangerous.¡± He caught the coin and held it up. ¡°Crow, a bad omen.¡±

    Hafldan grunted. ¡°If you think that¡¯s a bad omen, then you know nothing of omens. But it isn¡¯t related to this. Oliver, where did you pick up this stray?¡±

    The coin disappeared with a sleight of hand. ¡°Stray? I¡¯ve been with Oliver since a previous life.¡±

    ¡°Stop,¡± Oliver said. ¡°We¡¯re going.¡± The Time Crystal was an objective, after all.

    The farmer pawed his arm. ¡°Thank you. Thank you. It¡¯s not far from the road. You¡¯ll see the mists.¡±

    Oliver placed a hand on the farmer¡¯s shoulder. ¡°We¡¯ll try to find your son and bring him back.¡±

    The farmer managed a watery smile of gratitude. ¡°Kill that bastard. Please make him suffer.¡± The farmer led them just around a corner to a barn with a group of men lowering a little girl from a rope. ¡°He and his henchmen strung her up and let the undead gather under her and bite her. He¡¯s a monster.¡±

    They followed the farmer¡¯s directions and reached the outskirts of Shannadale by late afternoon. A dome of swirling mist greeted them. As Oliver and company stepped into it, sound dampened, and the world turned white and gray and then dim.

    ¡°Stay close,¡± Oliver warned, looking to and fro.

    The buildings materialized out of the mist. Here, half-collapsed cottages. There, abandoned stables and shops with sagging roofs.

    Oliver tried the door to a house, and a jerk opened it. The air smelled of rot. A table in the corner was set with plates and bowls, swarming with flies over rotten, maggoty food. He grimaced and retreated, stomach twisting.

    Outside, he sucked in fresh air.

    They discovered that no matter which direction they tried to leave the town, they would end up on the opposite side. Old video games used to work like this. If an enemy stood at the far end of the town, Sigrid could turn around, shoot into the mist, and hit the target at the far side. It would be doubtful if that would work, but they talked about it.

    Saj enjoyed stepping through the mist. ¡°Perhaps it¡¯s the town that moves and not us.¡±

    Then banter soon died when they realized they were utterly trapped and saw nothing of a Time Crystal or the farmer¡¯s son.

    The signpost, green with moss, read ¡°Shannadale¡± in faded paint. Broken wagons and dropped belongings littered the silent streets.

    Time looped as well. A distant chime of a clocktower reached their ears. It was midnight, and abruptly, they teleported to where they came in.

    Oliver became tired of walking and sat at the town center square.

    In that square, people gathered. They appeared out of nowhere and took seats at benches that hadn¡¯t been there moments ago.

    Oliver approached, but as he drew near, he realized these figures were not solid. They were phantoms.

    A group of adventurers boasting of a Time Crystal found in a distant desert. A tall woman with braided hair and a scar on her cheek addressed the group. Her words drifted to Oliver as though through a dream:

    ¡°We have the Crystal. The Sea People promise the horizon for it.¡±

    ¡°Whatever that means,¡± one retorted.

    ¡°Whatever it means,¡± she said, ¡°It¡¯s a lot. A kingdom, a sea of gold. Something grand. There is nothing the Sea People want more than this crystal.¡±

    Oliver stepped closer, but the figures did not notice him. They were nothing but ghosts from the past. He noticed a woman with a shadowed eyes.

    She stood near the clock tower and bent down to speak to a boy. ¡°I¡¯ve spiced the food,¡± she said. ¡°The Crystal shall be mine. What a waste it would be to take it north.¡±

    The child looked up. ¡°Why would they give it to you?¡±

    She messed the child¡¯s hair. ¡°Go eat. I¡¯ll join you soon.¡±

    Oliver watched helplessly as the phantoms played out their tragedy, feasting on the woman¡¯s poisoned food. It began with people clutching their throats and gagging. Eyes bulged, and vomit sprayed with ropes of blood.

    The adventurers lay face down at the table.

    The woman smirked. Time passed in flickers, and images overlapped. She raised the crystal high, and it glowed. Days passed, a dull sun spun around and around, and she grew gnarled. When she opened her mouth, a wail filled the town.

    Oliver¡¯s heart thumped faster, and he felt panic. He had to go now.

 CH30 Time to Act

    Oliver stopped running. Panic released control of him, and he looked to his companions. Only Saj and Halfdan were with him. They spent hours walking around the town looking for Sigrid and Charity.

    They called each other''s names and regrouped at the town square. A chime clanked, wood creaked, and a door banged open.

    A wind circled the town and ruffled the surrounding mist.

    They peered up at the clock tower and saw the tattered figure of the woman at the top, but she withdrew.

    From behind, a roar rumbled through the streets. It drew nearer.

    Oliver signaled his companions to spread out. Mostly, he didn¡¯t want them in the way if he had to release his magic.

    Halfdan¡¯s position threatened to cross the invisible line of forty-five degrees where a misplaced Astral Lance could obliterate him.

    Sigrid, Saj, and Charity stayed behind, the first nocking an arrow.

    ¡°That sounded large,¡± Saj said.

    ¡°Giant,¡± Halfdan said. ¡°I see him.¡±

    Oliver looked around. Where was Hunter? Ugh, the man was a shadow at midnight.

    A wagon rolled into the street. As it tumbled, it splattered and crashed through a shop wall. The already sagging roof above collapsed.

    A monstrous silhouette blocked out the glow behind the mist. A giant, at least four times a man¡¯s height, muscles knotted, one eye deformed, drooping to the side over its cheek, raised a morning star.

    Hunter appeared in midair, jumping from a tiled rooftop. He slashed the face of the creature in the side with a good eye but missed blinding it.

    The creature swatted, then spotted the rest of them, striding forward with a limp.

    Oliver noticed the runes of his swordstaff glowed. He needed to gain better control of his magic. His subconscious poured energy into the weapon.

    The giant swung the spike ball on a chain, and Hunter dashed out of the way, leaving another building to collapse.

    Halfdan darted forward, axe raised.

    This is why it¡¯s better to be alone. Oliver couldn¡¯t find a single angle to strike the giant without endangering his friends. Well, he¡¯d have to enter the melee.

    Halfdan ducked a morning star bow, a backhand, and a stomp, slid over the cobbles, and buried his axe into the shin bone the size of a small tree. The muscles flexed around his bowling ball shoulders, but the axe was stuck. He held onto it and left the ground.

    Saj and Charity took cover behind the clock tower. They peeked from around the back.

    Oliver remembered the last giant he¡¯d felled, a giant many times more massive than this monstrosity. He sprinted under Haldan to the other leg and stuck the heel tendon. The swordstaff bit into the flesh, but the skin was as thick as an elephant¡¯s. The blade barely broke through.

    The amount of blood pouring from the wound would have drained a man in seconds. The blood gurgled from the jagged rent.

    The arrows Sigrid rained down on the creature did nothing until one thudded into the white of its eye. The shaft swung up and hit eyelashes, then down at the hand that tried to pull it out but let go at a bold of pain evident by the jerk at touching it.

    Halfdan seized the moment, leaning back and using his legs to free the axe. He stuck at the same point and his time and gave a quick twist to free the blade.

    Again, bone crunched under the axe, and the giant toppled.

    Hunter struck the exposed through with two swords. The longer sword raised a fountain of blood. The creature choked and lay still.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    Saj approached warily, nudging the giant¡¯s arm with his foot. No response. He looked in the mouth and found a human bone stuck in the giant''s teeth. It still had meat on it/

    Hafldan sliced the creature''s stomach open. Then they found it. It was small, unmistakably human. Oliver¡¯s heart clenched. ¡°The farmer¡¯s boy,¡± he said. There was no way to know, but it seemed more than plausible.

    Halfdan scowled, fists clenched. ¡°The poor lad didn¡¯t stand a chance when Changen forced him here.¡±

    Charity stood behind them, silent tears glistening in her eyes. ¡°If this time loop keeps going, maybe we could wait until midnight and try to save him.¡±

    Oliver felt a glimmer of hope. ¡°That¡¯s a good idea.¡±

    They took turns sleeping in a house with decent bedding. The hours ticked by slowly, and they saw things while watching. Oliver noticed a hand in the mist from something indescribable. Long tapered digits grasped at shapes in the swirls.

    Around them, the streets remained eerily quiet until a few people walked by. They were armed and glanced around nervously. It wasn¡¯t worth letting them know anyone was here. No one could know if they were friendly.

    Though distant clocktower bells chimed occasionally, echoing through the gloom. Each chime marked a later hour.

    As the clock neared midnight, they gathered on the rooftop, an open vantage point over the swirling fog. The final bell struck. The world blinked, colors dimmed, and a whisper promised something in an unknown tongue.

    Oliver¡¯s vision blurred momentarily, and he walked out of the mist. The time loop had reset.

    Blinking away disorientation, they checked street after street, looking for any signs of the boy. They had to intercept him before the giant did.

    They passed the same landmarks repeatedly. The butcher¡¯s shop smelled terrible. Meat rotted inside. The town¡¯s square stood empty. Throughout, time-fragments replayed scenes of everyday life.

    Finally, they spotted him. The lanky boy crept along a ruined stable. He clutched a hunting knife.

    ¡°Hey, boy,¡± Saj yelled out.

    The giant materialized above the stables instead of catching the boy¡¯s attention. Its single eye locked onto the boy. Its other eye lacked the arrow wound.

    The boy ran away from the giant and them, heading toward the outskirts.

    ¡°Over here!¡± Oliver shouted, waving at the giant to draw its attention. The beast turned, morning star in hand, drooling in anticipation of a small snack.

    Oliver refused to let magic control him. The sword staff runes remained dim. That was better. ¡°Go grab the kid.¡±

    Charity ran off to follow the boy, and Saj saw and caught up.

    The giant bellowed and started the spiked ball whirling. When it got close enough, the chain shot it close.

    Sigrid peppered its shoulders with arrows, but she couldn¡¯t find the eye again.

    Saj rushed to the boy, guiding him away to relative safety behind a collapsed market stall. The lad stared, eyes wide, as Oliver advanced on the giant¡¯s front.

    ¡°Run. I¡¯ll take care of it,¡± Oliver said, and when they had withdrawn, he summoned a shimmering barrier. The Astral Shield enclosed him.

    The giant¡¯s fists and morning star battered uselessly against the cosmic shell. Sparks of magic rained down as the monster snarled in frustration.

    Oliver raised a hand, magic crackled between fingers, and the runes flashed. He cast Astral Lance.

    The collision was immediate and deafening.

    The giant¡¯s chest opened in a crimson explosion. The monstrous flesh seemed to disintegrate into a rain of gore. Bits of bone and muscle pattered on the cobblestones.

    Oliver staggered back, breathing hard, the shield dissipating. Silence smothered the street.

    Sigrid lowered her bow, mouth parted in shock at the scale of destruction. Halfdan wiped specks of blood from his cheek, grimacing at the carnage.

    Down the road, Saj and Charity talked with the boy.

    Oliver leaned on his swordstaff. ¡°Well, that was disgusting,¡±

    Hey, select your level-up abilities, Oliver. I noticed you¡¯re not making the most of your classes. You¡¯ve dropped to rank 330. Also, I¡¯ve sent you an invite to a group chat with Hunter and Elstina. You¡¯ll be able to talk with them and coordinate your next move.

    Oliver replied that he got the message. And perhaps he should look into his character abilities more. It seemed like he had plenty of power for now, but it wouldn¡¯t hurt.

    The lad stammered a thank you. ¡°My father said not to come here, but Changen threatened him. I thought... I thought I could find the crystal myself.¡±

    Oliver didn¡¯t want to say it had been a bad idea. ¡°Changen only sent you in here to be cruel. But there¡¯s a chance you¡¯ll get out of here with the crystal after all.¡±

    The clocktower¡¯s faint bell chimed.

    Oliver gazed into the swirling mist, wondering what would happen when he claimed the crystal.

    His companions followed him. They stayed close to buildings.

    He sent Hunter to scout ahead to ensure the way was clear until they reached the clock tower.

    Atop the structure, the banshee watched them. It didn¡¯t scream but only looked down on them.

    Oliver pushed open a door that hung askew on one hinge. He was sure the crystal was inside.

 CH31 Riddles in Time

    Oliver walked up a short flight of stairs. The tower stood at the center of Shannadale, its bricks cracked and crumbled as if from hundreds of years of neglect. He took the iron handle and pulled the door ajar.

    ¡°Let me,¡± Hunter said and melted into the dark within.

    Oliver pinched the bridge of his nose. If the banshee appeared, he wouldn¡¯t be able to unleash upon it with Hunter inside. Sure, Hunter was stealthy, but he was the better entry fragger.

    Halfdan guarded the rear in case of an ambush. Sigrid and Charity stood on the steps.

    Saj stood between them. ¡°You can take care of this banshee, can¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Probably,¡± Oliver said. ¡°But who knows if that¡¯s the real danger.¡±

    The string on Sidrid¡¯s bow creaked. ¡°Someone would have taken the Time Crystal by now if she were the only one guarding it.¡±

    After Hunter showed his face at the threshold, they pushed the door and stepped into a circular chamber. Paintings and mirrors adorned the walls, but sheets hung from their frames and concealed them.

    A spiral staircase coiled around the interior. Each footstep reverberated in the stone cylinder. The place smelled of mildew. A single rope dangled from the ceiling, connected to the tower¡¯s bell. Light from outside filtered through cracks.

    As Oliver and his companions reached the third level, a shape drifted from the shadows. A figure in tattered robes glided in front of them. A pale face, hollow eyes, and parted lips that emitted another wail. The sound rattled their bones. Charity gripped Oliver¡¯s sleeve and lowered her gaze.

    Halfdan and Sigrid exchanged a nod and charged.

    Sigrid shot an arrow and reached down for her dagger. Her arrow hit home. She didn¡¯t care about the drop, leaping from the railing and stabbing out.

    Halfdan likewise swung over the gaps and swung his axe in quick arcs.

    The banshee drifted away, mouth agape. Its teeth and claws lengthened, and it swiped away the dagger.

    Oliver pointed his swordstaff toward the banshee. He wanted to unleash on the creature and get it over with, but he¡¯d seen what happened in an enclosed space. One Astral Lance and the whole place would vaporize.

    The banshee watched the three approaching it and withdrew, phasing through the wall.

    Sigrid sheathed her dagger and plucked another arrow from her quiver.

    At the top of the staircase, they spotted the Time Crystal. It sat in the belfry just below the bell but was transparent. It was a bunch of crystals around a central one with a small base.

    Oliver¡¯s hand passed through it. The sensation was like swiping mist.

    ¡°Is it an illusion?¡± Hafdan said. ¡°I hate magic. No offense, Oliver.¡±

    Charity walked over and put her hands out like she was warming herself by a fire. ¡°I don¡¯t think so. I feel something.¡±

    Four portals rippled into view around the dais. They stood like frameless doorways, each a different color. They were blue, red, brown, and clear.

    Oliver peered through them and felt he could walk right in.

    One shimmered with swirling flames in a cavern of molten rock. Another showed a vast ocean under dark skies. A third opened onto an endless cloudscape. The last displayed a rocky expanse with boulders and cliffs that floated in emptiness.

    Saj walked around these portals. ¡°They are connected,¡± he said. ¡°All of them face the crystal perfectly.¡±

    Halfdan scratched his head. ¡°It¡¯s a test. We have to prove ourselves.¡±

    Sajj pointed at the watery realm. ¡°Perhaps it¡¯s a riddle. Water erodes stone. Fire boils water.¡±

    Oliver heard the bing of a notification. ¡°What is air? It could fan the flames or be the steam from boiling water.¡±

    Bing. Bing.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Oliver opened his notifications.

    Oliver, what are you doing? You¡¯re located next to a complex knot of code. This isn¡¯t from the System. Someone¡¯s been tampering with it. Someone who¡¯s beyond human ability. I couldn¡¯t even begin to guess its nature.

    Charity moved back. She¡¯d been looking over his shoulder. ¡°What does that mean.¡±

    Hunter dropped down from above. ¡°It means you¡¯re sentient. Welcome to the real world.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think there¡¯s such a thing,¡± Oliver said. Las Calas still felt like the real world, but it wasn¡¯t, and neither was this. Perhaps all that existed was the scum floating on a black hole.

    Halfdan knocked on Oliver¡¯s head. ¡°Focus. You¡¯re all talking gibberish. Which portal do we enter first?¡±

    Sigrid put her foot through the water portal. ¡°Perhaps these are traps. I¡¯ve heard many still work from lost civilizations. The magic never dies.¡± Her foot came out wet. ¡°And I know you¡¯re scared of magic, Halfdan.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not scared. I¡¯m cautious.¡±

    They debated, but Oliver shook his head. Someone had meant for him to have the crystal, probably the White Reaper. ¡°We go in. I agree with Saj. I think it¡¯s a riddle.¡±

    ¡°And,¡± Saj said. ¡°I like your idea of steam. Fire before water, which leaves earth at the beginning or end.¡±

    No one guessed which, so they decided to go into fire first. If only that weren¡¯t the most dangerous option.

    Charity glanced up. ¡°The banshee comes again.¡±

    Halfdan gripped his axe. ¡°Let¡¯s move then.¡±

    Sigrid nocked an arrow. ¡°Where is she?¡±

    Hunter walked through the portal and onto a raised basalt walk above boiling lava. ¡°It¡¯s a dry heat, let¡¯s go.¡±

    Oliver¡¯s feet landed on a basalt walkway, the air thick with fumes and shimmering heat. This was what it must feel like to face a dragon. Flames erupted from fissures in the rock, and rivers of lava traced bright paths.

    Saj turned around. ¡°No one move. Do you see that creature over there? In the deserts, we call it a sun devil. It¡¯s a fire elemental, and it¡¯s deadly. Very deadly.¡± He backpeddled, throwing his hands in front of his face. ¡°Oh no, something is floating in front of me. A rectangle of light.¡±

    Oliver put a hand on Saj¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Relax. You¡¯ve been enlightened, or whatever.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s tied to me. I turn, it turns.¡±

    Oliver gave him a shake. ¡°Saj, what does it say?¡±

    ¡°It says Saj, NPC, and Cultivator.¡±

    ¡°Interesting. Touch the X and forget about it for now.¡±

    A towering figure of molten rock lumbered toward them. Each step shook the basalt. Lava dripped from its limbs, leaving molten pools. Itl raised a fiery arm and hurled a pyroclastic spray. Oliver summoned a barrier. The embers bounced off.

    Halfdan charged out of the protection and struck with his axe, cutting into the soft rock. He began another chop, but the elemental swung back, hitting and knocking him down. He rolled as flames sprouted from his fur clothing.

    Sigrid loosed arrows that punctured the molten hide, each arrow bursting into flame on impact.

    Oliver watched its movements and saw an opening. He lunged, swordstaff glinting. A swift slash carved a glowing gouge in the creature¡¯s side. It steamed.

    The elemental¡¯s scream also sounded like steam, a raspy hiss. Where Halfdan¡¯s wound soon closed up, the swordstaff left permanent damage.

    The elemental roared, lashing out, but Oliver parried. A foot like a stump slammed down.

    With one final thrust, Oliver nearly severed it in half.

    The elemental collapsed and crawled into the lava.

    Halfdan looked at his axe and then at the swordstaff. ¡°Who made a blade that could do that?¡±

    Oliver turned his weapon to catch light on the edge. Not a single mar anywhere, and it wasn¡¯t dull. ¡°I don¡¯t know where it came from.¡±

    They returned to the belfry and saw a translucent fire about a foot under the crystal. It flicked soundlessly.

    Next, they entered the water portal. Within, they shivered in a cold domain of black waves and jagged ice flows. A roar sounded, and a water elemental appeared, cresting a wave surrounded by foam.

    Sigrid¡¯s arrows passed through its watery form, causing no clear harm. Halfdan took a step into the water and recoiled. ¡°So cold. It¡¯s freezing.¡±

    Oliver glanced around for Hunter and saw him back by the portal. All of his friends stood outside the cone of destruction he would unleash. Star magic set the runes ablaze, and he extended a hand. A lance shot out, and an intense hissed filled the air.

    The creature geysered as its body evaporated. It burst upward, raining down as hail.

    Outside in the belfry, translucent water boiled above the flames. They were on the right track. The only problem is he had to use his mana sparingly.

    Halfdan unwound a rope in the room. ¡°For the air realm. The winds could knock us away.¡±

    It was a good idea. They walked out onto an icy bridge in a world of swirling winds. Tornadoes danced in the distance.

    The lance destroyed the next two elementals. He noticed he had six mana bars now, and after entering the earth realm, which was as much crystal and metal and rock, he had depleted all but one.

    In the belfry, fire, water, air, and earth were staked under the time crystal. The crystal took a solid form.

    Oliver touched it. Bing. Bing. Bing. His notifications went wild. The crystal wasn¡¯t large, no more than a foot tall, but it felt heavy. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here.¡±

    They ran down the stairs. A wind rose and made the tower creak and snap. A board hammered against the side of the building.

    At the bottom level, the banshee grabbed a sheet from a mirror and cast it aside. A swirling shadow stirred within the mirror¡¯s surface. A shape extended beyond the reflective surface.

    Oliver braced himself. He had one mana bar, and had no idea what looked at him from the mirror.

 CH32 Between Worlds

    Oliver stepped forward so that his companions lay safely behind him. Not only did this keep them out of his way, but in the long term, it was a smart strategy. If he were to rise in the ranks, he¡¯d have to become a leader, and he lacked all the skills to be one. However, history showed one foolproof avenue to gain the respect of others: lead from the front lines.

    The shadows within the glass churned in a slow vortex and cleared to reveal a strange, purple sky. A shape moved, tall and thin, with elongated claws. Its fingers stretched forward, pressing as though the mirror¡¯s surface. A hiss turned into a rumbling speech. ¡°I am bound within the ancient mines, sealed by elvish wards. Bring the crystal unto me, and thou shalt receive a most gracious reward.¡±

    Saj wrung his hands. ¡°It¡¯s from the Dark Ages.¡±

    Oliver realized his hand hurt from gripping the swordstaff so tightly. He ignored Saj¡¯s comment. ¡°Who are you, how¡¯d you get imprisoned, and what is the reward?¡±

    The creature¡¯s tone felt off, as if unaccustomed to anything but command. ¡°I am Hygek Ulk, who once roamed these lands ere the elves butchered the dragons, and are men and gnomes drove out goblins and kobolds. They conquered yet found mere victory and savagery lacking, casting the god of the land into chains. Yet even as they linger in sloth and weakness, my power doth swell. Bring me the crystal, and dominion shall be thine. Thou shalt be mine own Dark Captain, with twenty Witchfriends at thy command.¡±

    Oliver remembered the reaper saying there are gods, at least indistinguishable from gods. Obviously, he didn¡¯t trust the elves, but he couldn¡¯t take this kind of gamble. ¡°I¡¯m going to take the crystal to the Sea People. If you¡¯re still gaining power, you¡¯ll find your own way out.¡±

    A sudden pressure seized Oliver¡¯s chest. His breath caught as if an invisible hand grabbed his heart, driving him to his knees. The crystal nearly slipped from his arms, hit the ground, and slid toward the mirror. He struggled for breath.

    Halfdan shouted in alarm and leaped for it. A white flash and a snap stilled him. He rolled on his back, ¡°What happened?¡± Snoke rose from his fur-lined shoulder.

    The crystal slid within reach of the shadow hand.

    Hunter darted toward the crystal, but the banshee leaped on him. She bit his neck, and he slammed backward into a support to try to free himself.

    Seconds ticked by, and Oliver began to lose track of where his companions were. The light faded from his sight. He was passing out, and only panic kept him conscious. He unleashed his last bit of mana in an Astral Lance.

    The shadow hand caught the lance, and the darkness swallowed it.

    Oliver¡¯s vision blurred. The pain in his chest doubled. This was it.

    A shifting in the air caused the grip to relax, and Oliver took a breath.

    A pale shape materialized.

    White Reaper, its hooded visage looking down on Oliver. ¡°Enough.¡±

    The shadow recoiled.

    The reaper¡¯s scythe cut the banshee in half. Blood fountained over Hunter, who flicked his fingers to shake off the crimson spray.

    Hygek Ulk snarled. ¡°What are you doing here? Thy single task is but to tend the System..¡±

    The reaper¡¯s hollow eyes turned to the mirror. ¡°Nothing has stopped me from doing as I please.¡±

    ¡°If I were free, I would see thee undone.¡± The shadow threw a man out of the mirror, and metal armor clanged as the man rolled. ¡°Take Owen hence. He witnessed the elves¡¯ deeds in that age. I did preserve him by taking him into this prison, but now is the hour when he must walk again in a world that hath concealed its crimes..¡±

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    The White Reaper swung the scythe again. The mirror shuddered, cracks webbing across its surface.

    Hygek Ulk splintered. ¡°Oliver, you make powerful enemies. Do not think one danger greater than others.¡± The mirror detonated, sending shards of glass everywhere.

    Oliver felt the glass dig into his forearm, where his cloak left bare skin. ¡°Thank you,¡± he said, relieved to be alive.

    The reaper stood silent a moment. ¡°Take the crystal to the dwarves. They will forge armor far beyond anything of metal.¡±

    Before Oliver could speak, the reaper dissolved like smoke

    Halfdan pushed himself to his feet. ¡°The world would be better without magic and gods.¡±

    Oliver nodded. It probably would be.

    Sigrid and Saj checked them for injuries.

    Charity touched his arm gently, eyes wide with concern. ¡°You looked like you were in a lot of pain.¡±

    ¡°Only while it had me,¡± Oliver said.

    ¡°What now?¡± Saj asked, picking up a fragment of the mirror. ¡°What do we do with him?¡±

    Sigrid tapped the armored man with her foot. ¡°His name was Owen.¡±

    Oliver leaned on his swordstaff. ¡°The White Reaper said to bring the crystal to the dwarves. Where are they?¡±

    Sigrid turned the man over to lay on his back. ¡°There are dwarves near our homeland. They dwell in the mountains.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got him,¡± Halfdan said, reached down, and tossed the man over a shoulder.

    Outside the clock tower, the mist vanished. The sun shone on the dilapidated town and on the green lands beyond.

    The farmer¡¯s boy peeked out of a hiding place inside a barrel. ¡°I didn¡¯t think you guys would make it.¡±

    They had made it, thanks to the intervention of the reaper.

    In the evening, Oliver stood at the edge of the camp, gaze fixed on the shimmering crystal.

    The group was exhausted and lounged around a fire. The farm wasn¡¯t more than an hour away, but they needed rest.

    Hunter handed out a few scraps of dried meat and hard bread. Halfdan and Sigrid were by the horses, checking saddles, while Charity and Saj tidied up the rocks and sticks around the fire.

    Oliver rolled to his side, propping his head with his hand, and opened the display.

    Eldrin invites you to a group chat¡ªAccept?

    Oliver felt an out-of-body experience like jumping from a cliff without the freefall, just the mind expecting it.

    The world around him instantly dropped away. He blinked, and darkness filled his vision. He stood in pure darkness, though he could see his hands. Then he blocked a blinding light. As his eyes adjusted, he recognized this place

    This was the sterile hospital-like place he¡¯d seen twice, the two times he¡¯d died.

    Elstina walked into the room. The thin gown she wore didn¡¯t hide pointed nipples or the hints of her form underneath. ¡°Oliver!¡± she said and threw her arms around him.

    He stood frozen, not expecting her in person. ¡°Elstina. I thought you were at Halshan Castle. And I thought I was sitting by a fire.¡±

    She stepped back, cheeks flushed. ¡°We are, and we¡¯re here. Your friend puts wizards to shame.¡±

    He nervously toyed with the hair at the back of his neck. ¡°Yeah, Eldrin is a genius. He''s figuring out all kinds of stuff.¡±

    Elstina nodded in agreement. ¡°Yes, he is. And you¡¯re not¡ªtaking off like that. But nothing can be done about that now, and you¡¯re going in the right direction. I¡¯m at Halshan¡¯s Castle because we can¡¯t rely on my mother or any of the elves. With the northern king at your side, we¡¯ll have an army to face Coda.¡±

    Oliver felt a little annoyed. ¡°I¡¯m going to become a king and find as many people to join our cause as possible.¡±

    ¡°You a king? You have no birthright. You have nothing.¡±

    ¡°Look,¡± he said. ¡°Where I come from, we love fantasy stories, and this is one. It¡¯s always the same¡ªa chosen one gathers the nations together and fights the evil lord. Well, I don¡¯t know how, but that¡¯s what I¡¯m going to do.¡±

    Elstina came close and looked at him with large eyes as if afraid he¡¯d gone insane. ¡°But how?.¡±

    He shrugged and glanced down. He hoped he didn¡¯t appear apprehensive. ¡°I have the Time Crystal. It¡¯s a powerful item. I don¡¯t know how this will lead me to my goal, but this is not random. Things are happening behind the scenes.¡± Truthfully, it was all a bet by the reaper, but he didn¡¯t want to tell her that.

    The world began to fade.

    Her mouth was wide, surprised as he was to see everything dim. ¡°I¡¯ll see you soon.¡±

    Before he could reply, she was gone.

    ¡°You okay?¡± Hunter asked.

    ¡°Yeah, I talked to Elstina. She¡®s waiting for us, as you said.¡±

    ¡°What about him?¡± Hunter looked at the unconscious lump beside the fire.

    Owen was the least of Oliver¡¯s worries. But maybe they could drop him off with the boy. That would be perfect. All these new party members would slow them down. Well, that problem could wait till morning.

 CH33 The Divide

    Morning found Oliver and his companions gathered at the edge of the misty wood. Their camp lay scattered with smoke rising from a dead fire. He touched his neck and found no blood. He¡¯d dreamed the stranger cut his throat in the night.

    Owen, the stranger who¡¯d emerged from the mirror, lay wrapped in a spare cloak. He stirred.

    Whistling a low tune, Halfdan stood watch, which he did longer and more often than anyone else. His axe rested on his shoulder. The ruddy stubble on his jaw looked like it could double as sandpaper.

    Sigrid kicked dirt over the firepit. She narrowed her eyes at Halfdan. ¡°I¡¯m glad you don¡¯t sleep that much. Your snoring could wake the dead.¡±

    Saj pointed to the vague figure of a fleshless skeleton lumbering out of the trees. ¡°Let¡¯s not talk about the dead. They may not like it.¡±

    Oliver shook the boy awake. ¡°Time to wake up,¡± he said.

    The boy took a lot of shaking, for he probably hadn¡¯t slept well in the cursed town.

    The seven set out along the woods, with the ears of wheat catching the early light.

    Owen shifted, and his eye opened a sliver, but his body remained still. After a moment, his hand crept to his waist to an empty scabbard.

    Hunter sat close to the man and whittled a stick. It might have been an excuse to have a ready blade. ¡°I¡¯ll give you your sword back when we part ways. Though with the dead around, I¡¯d stick with us for a while.¡±

    Owen¡¯s eyes widened, but he sat up. ¡°Why¡¯s thy speech so queer? From what land?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not the land that¡¯s strange,¡± Hunter said, shaving a strip of wood from his grasshopper figurine. ¡°You are, and that evil god you¡¯ve been hanging out with.¡±

    ¡°Aye, I did conspire with that fiend against the elves. For that, I claim no pride.

    ¡°You joined Hygek Ulk?¡± Oliver asked, not sure he heard right.

    ¡°I stood beside the enemy of mine enemy for but one battle.¡±

    Saj slung a pack over a shoulder and came close to Owen. ¡°The battle with the elves took place a long time ago. I would have you know you won if that were your only goal.¡±

    Pray tell, how long has it been?¡±

    Saj counted fingers but stopped and looked puzzled.

    Hunter opened his mouth and stopped what he was going to say, then said, ¡°Who knows? Grab a bite, and let¡¯s be off. We¡¯ll figure it out on the road.¡±

    By midday, they spotted a cluster of humble huts and barns, the boy¡¯s farming community. Smoke trailed from a single chimney.

    The father waited near a garden, face hollow. He looked terrible. At the sight of his boy, his eyes lit, and he ran forward, arms open to grab him and lift him in a hug. ¡°By the dead, child, you were gone a month. I¡¯d almost given up on you.¡±

    Oliver and the rest gathered. ¡°A month?¡± He repeated. ¡°A month?¡±

    The father nodded, brushing tears from his cheeks. ¡°Yes and no less.¡±

    Time must have warped within the mist. ¡°Any news since our absence?¡±

    ¡°Changen has left. What I wouldn¡¯t give to get my hands around his throat,¡± the father said, and he rubbed his eyes as if to wipe the vision from his mind. ¡°An army marches toward ua, led by Lord Emrich. The knights do their best to hold them off, buying time for families to flee. Everyone is supposed to gather at the inland port.¡±

    Halfdan exchanged glances with Sigrid. Saj shifted from foot to foot, possibly holding a piss. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    Oliver noticed smoke rising near the Tombs of Volgaster at the shore of Lake Zars. ¡°Then we¡¯ll aid the knights.¡±

    His companions tried to talk him out of it, but he wouldn¡¯t have it. This was how one built a reputation.

    The farmer pointed to the thin silver line of the lake far away. ¡°Hurry if you wish to join them. I heard the enemy force is led by Emrich¡¯s gloves.¡±

    ¡°I have to find a bush,¡± Saj said. ¡°But before I go, did you say his gloves? Did I hear that correctly?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid so.¡±

    Oliver offered a quick farewell to the farmer and his son.

    The farmer gave him a crushing shake. ¡°Thank you. He¡¯s all that¡¯s left of my life.¡±

    The party continued down the dusty track between patches of wheat and barley.

    Owen broke the silence. ¡°Did we raise the barrier? Tell me it stands.¡±

    Oliver shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m afraid we don¡¯t know of any barrier.¡±

    Saj wiped the sweat from his lined forehead. ¡°Indeed, it has been a long time. It is the year fifteen sixty-nine. Does that tell you how long it''s been?¡±

    Owen blinked in confusion. ¡°Nay, thou jest. We celebrated the millennium in my father¡¯s time.¡±

    Sigrid appeared sad. ¡°It¡¯s been centuries. Everyone you knew is long gone.¡±

    Owen stared at her. ¡°Tis beyond reason. This can¡¯t be what remains of the Realm.¡±

    Halfdan stopped. ¡°Do you hear the thunder of hooves? The battle is near.¡±

    They pressed onward, passed empty huts, and saw smoke, and heard echoes of horns. Knights camped behind a line of crude fortifications near a road crossing.

    The sun dipped, and torches flickered among tents and piles of supplies.

    Oliver identified staff from Reynold¡¯s Keep. ¡°Let¡¯s find Sir Gillian.¡±

    The night air carried faint shouts and the rumble of moving troops. They passed the horse lines, forging ahead on foot. The camp was a flurry of nervous activity.

    A man in a conical helmet asked, ¡°Who are you? How¡¯d you get past the guard?¡±

    Oliver looked around. ¡°We didn¡¯t see anyone. They''ll recognize me if you could tell Sir Edmund or Gillian that I¡¯m¡ªI¡¯m Oliver¡ªis here.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t long before they were invited to the heart of the camp. Soldiers conferred over maps by candlelight, and local soldiers stacked barrels for barricades. At the end wall, hanging from the canvas supports, Oliver recognized the crest from Reynold¡¯s Keep.

    A voice rang out from behind. ¡°Oliver! You¡¯ve returned!¡±

    Several knights turned, each face lit with relief or recognition.

    Sir Edmund removed his helmet and patted Oliver on the back. ¡°You¡¯ve come in our hour of need. If the rest of your party is half as good as you, we might just tilt the battle in our favor.¡±

    Oliver scanned the table. Little black figures represented the enemy downhill and at the forest''s edge. ¡°How many are there?¡±

    ¡°At least six hundred. But it¡¯s just a fraction of the main host. If we don¡¯t find victory in the morning, we¡¯ll retreat and abandon the women and children trying to make their way north. We can¡¯t let that happen.¡±

    This situation was perfect for Oliver¡¯s Star Mage abilities. ¡°Let¡¯s attack tonight. Set me ahead, and I¡¯ll drive them back.¡±

    Sir Edmund started a chuckle and looked askance. ¡°Are you serious? You¡¯re a magnificent fighter, but this is six hundred men and a pair of magic gloves. This isn¡¯t the time for bravado.¡±

    Hunter pointed to a small hill near the enemy. ¡°Oliver isn¡¯t trying to show off. He¡¯s a powerful spellcaster. If you can get him here, he can end it.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if I can end it,¡± Oliver said. ¡°But I can do enough damage to give you a route.¡±

    Sir Gillian walked into the tent. ¡°Oliver, it¡¯s good to have you back. We¡¯re in a stalemate and taking too many casualties.¡± He stopped and stared at Owen. ¡°Who¡¯s this handsome devil?¡±

    Oliver couldn¡¯t help but think of Beatrice getting taken from behind by the knight. He looked at Owen and back to Gillian. ¡°You guys look like brothers.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s like looking in a mirror,¡± Sir Gillian said. ¡°Are you a bastard? No offense.¡±

    ¡°Nay, I¡¯m no bastard.¡± Owen reached for a sword that wasn¡¯t there.

    Sigrid laughed. ¡°Calm down, boys. Owen here has been frozen in time for five hundred years. He¡¯s not your brother. You probably came from his seed some ten or twenty generations back.¡±

    Why would two people looking alike cause so much strife? Oliver stepped between the two. ¡°It¡¯s true. Maybe you guys should talk family lines sometime. But right now, get me close to the enemy.¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Sir Edmund said. ¡°They¡¯ll talk of ancestry. Are you sure you can do enough damage to turn the tide?¡±

    ¡°I am.¡±

    With that, the knights moved. It was like an ant hill kicked into a frenzy. Oliver found himself on a horse, and he didn¡¯t like it.

    Others piled around him, and they galloped into the darkness.

    He held his swordstaff like a spear. The camp fell away, and the stars appeared in the twilight. The ground turned dark so that the horse took him blindly.

    Enemy sentinels spotted them and blew horns. A few arrows whistled.

    The camp came into view as he crested a rise. His horse reared up, and he grabbed the pummel and raised his swordstaff.

    Arrows sprinkled the hill, but a storm was coming.

 CH34 Duality

    Arrows rained down, unseen and deadly in the dark. The camp¡¯s torchlight backlit the anchors plucking their strings while their victims carried a horrible melody.

    Oliver fought to stay in the saddle on a rise overlooking the enemy camp. The knights clustered around him, and he had to yell for them to get back.

    Twice, an arrow whizzed so close it was like a bee in his ear. He could raise a shield, but he wouldn¡¯t have to if he attacked.

    The knights and their horses snorted and shifted anxiously. They were protected, but the infantry suffered the arrows. Though, one arrow found its way through the face slits of a heavily armored man, and he topped from his mount and flopped around in pain.

    ¡°Oliver. Now would be the time,¡± Sir Gillian said, holding his shield against the deadly rain.

    Oliver steeled himself. The idea of what he needed to do hit him. The camp was filled with living, breathing people. Nevertheless, he lifted a hand, letting cosmic energy gather.

    From below, distant shouts reached them as soldiers rallied. Those with bows readied another volley.

    ¡°Yes,¡± said Sir Edmund. ¡°If you have magic, man, use it. If not, I will call a retreat.¡±

    Sir Gillian studied Oliver¡¯s face. ¡°Emrich is burning villages. He kills and plunders not for glory but for the elves. If you can stop it, it¡¯s your duty.¡±

    With a deep breath, Oliver raised his swordstaff to the sky. The runes on its blade glimmered. Star Beam.

    A line of pure brilliance shot downward. The land about him was gone under the glare. In a heartbeat, the beam struck straight through the heart of the enemy camp.

    Tents and supply wagons erupted in flame and debris. Shouts turned to screams, men diving for cover. A dust and sparks billowed into the air, blotting the hillside in swirling ash.

    Oliver sent another beam slicing into the camp. The deed was done. The afterimages faded until he could see into the night once again.

    A notification sounded, but he didn¡¯t look.

    Sir Edmund, pointing. ¡°Brilliant! Their lines are in disarray. Charge.¡±

    Oliver spurred his horse forward, but everyone passed him, even those on foot, until he rode at the rear.

    The charred bodies of the archers lay in blackened heaps. Skulls screamed from the husk of faces.

    His chest constricted at the devastation he had wrought. He tasted bile in his throat.

    They were NPCs. They¡¯d respawn in another game world soon. Perhaps Eldrin would know more about their lifecycle. He¡¯d have to ask him.

    The knights thundered into the camp and bloodied their lances. Some switched to their sidearms of maces or swords and swung away in a mad furry.

    He forced himself to follow, though he wanted to desert.

    His allies swept in, dust rolling with them, kicked up from a fallow field. Figures in melted armor staggered among campfires and collapsed tents and weapon racks.

    His blade slashed a startled archer, sending the man spinning to the ground.

    Sir Gillian lost his horse and fought with a large shield and sword. He backed away from a line of pikes.

    Sir Edmund crashed into the formation from the flank and scattered them. He circled, guiding his mount through smoking ruins, hacking at scattered foes.

    ¡°With me,¡± Sir Gillian said and turned a pike away with his shield, but he couldn¡¯t get close enough to strike back.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Another pikeman closed from the side.

    Oliver joined him. The swordstaff was not as long as the pike, but in his hands, it danced.

    Together, they disbanded the heavy infantry.

    Fires overtook the sea of tents at the center of the camp. Some abandoned the fight to get away from the heat.

    Smoke stung Oliver¡¯s eyes. He coughed into the crook of his elbow and blinked back his watery vision.

    The enemy banner flapped at the center of the camp from a large pavilion. Soldiers in black coats with silver moons rallied around it.

    Oliver saw what he¡¯d been told about but hadn¡¯t believed, or at least hadn¡¯t tried to wrap his head around.

    Two white gloves floated above the ground as if worn by an invisible man. They unfurled a scroll, and a voice rang out from the parchment. ¡°I, Emrich, claim your lands in the name of the Malarite Crown. Your resistance only brings suffering upon your people.¡±

    Emrich¡¯s gloves moved in sleight of hand and made the scroll vanish. Then, the fingers seemed to make sign language gestures. Three swords lifted from a nearby rack and glided forward.

    Oliver parried a slice with a metallic clang, stumbling from the force and odd angle. The gloves flashed, and they yanked his swordstaff sideways with an invisible hand at a shocking speed.  He forced a blade aside, trying to get close to the gloves, but with three blades flying around, spinning, the chances were stacked against him. He clenched his jaw, star energy thrumming in his hand, but he had nothing for such a tiny target.

    A strong enough strike chipped a flying sword and made it veer away. It was as if the blade were dizzy. With that, he didn¡¯t try to fence with them any longer but batter them into submission.

    Meanwhile, Sir Gillian and the knights engaged the remains of moon soldiers. Those on horseback broke their lines and sent them into chaos while the others cut them down.

    Oliver battered away the last of the swords. The gloves gathered a fireball between them, but before unleashing the flames, he shot forward and stuck them with the staff side of his weapon.

    The white gloves fell and lay like normal cloth in the dirt.

    He swiped them up and stuffed them in his pocket.

    Soon, the whole camp lay in ruins, tents smoldering, wounded men calling for help. The battle was over, and the looting began.

    He returned to the friendly camp and tried to sleep but couldn¡¯t. His companions had abstained from the battle.

    Owen said it was his right to kill elf friends and said no more that night.

    Morning light unveiled the battlefield¡¯s grim truth; the Star Beam melted the bodies of at least a hundred. Smoke rose from burnt wagons, forming thin columns in the grayish sky. Oliver walked among the carnage.

    Knights sat around fires roasting the meat they¡¯d found in the supplies.

    Hunter walked at his side. ¡°At least in this world, we don¡¯t have to eat our enemy. But I have no problem eating their food. Let¡¯s join them.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s okay,¡± Oliver said. ¡°Go on without me. I¡¯m not hungry.¡±

    ¡°Suit yourself.¡±

    His companions followed him. They should have eaten.

    Halfdan picked up a double-bladed axe. ¡°The first battle is the hardest. You¡¯ll think about everything you did wrong until you get another chance to do it right.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what I could have done differently, but it still feels wrong, like my heart sank and it¡¯ll never come up again.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re like an innocent,¡± Halfdan said. ¡°Trapped in a body purposed for killing.¡±

    Saj stared at a mangled corpse. ¡°The mind and body can¡¯t remain in such conflict. Something has to give.¡±

    Charity wiped her eyes. ¡°Maybe you don¡¯t have to use your magic like this. What if you just showed your power and let them surrender?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Halfdan said. ¡°He will not be able to tell the strength of his opponent. If they¡¯d had wizards or creatures, and he hadn¡¯t acted decisively, he could have got his own killed.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps a show of force would sometimes work,¡± Oliver agreed. ¡°I tried to leave my friends behind so I wouldn¡¯t harm them, but that didn¡¯t work. Maybe I just need to be smarter.¡±

    Halfdan turned the new axe in his hand. ¡°Perhaps, but hesitate at the wrong moment, and the price may be higher than you¡¯re willing to pay.¡±

    ¡°This is more than I¡¯m willing to pay.¡±

    A woman with ragged clothes and a child clinging to her stepped out of the woods a quarter mile away. A few more stepped out, then more still. Families, old folks, mothers with babes in arms, even a few farmers with carts.

    Soldiers rode out and guided them around the battlefield and to the camp.

    Oliver and company followed and watched a few break off from the group to gather at the main pavilion. He entered behind them and stood at the table while they waited for Sir Edmund.

    The interior of the tent warmed up as the sun rose higher.

    Oliver couldn¡¯t see his breath any longer.

    When everyone was ready, an old woman spoke. Her mouth looked like a sinkhole. ¡°They¡¯re right behind us. They burned the villages and towns. I raised a whole graveyard, and it slowed them down, but they have an elf with them who can turn away the dead.¡±

    A man nodded beside her. ¡°It¡¯s the main part of their force. At least three thousand of them.¡±

    Sir Edmund looked at the strategy table. ¡°Then we¡¯ll have to move like the wind.¡±

 CH35 The Storm

    Oliver sludged through the mud after a cold autumn rain. The cold turned his feet into a couple of ice cubes. He could have made the journey northward on horseback, but he was already sore and didn¡¯t want to banter with the knights.

    Hunter was a much better companion. He waved away any questions about what they should do or what will happen. He¡¯d say, ¡°We don¡¯t have to worry about it now. There¡¯s days of travel ahead.¡± And he¡¯d kick stones when they reached dry earth.

    ¡°You know,¡± Oliver said. ¡°Eldrin says we could visit your world again. Would you go back?¡±

    ¡°Would you go back to your death place?¡±

    Oliver hadn¡¯t thought of Las Calas as his death place because it seemed like he¡¯d never died, but there was a feeling of dread he hadn¡¯t recognized. ¡°I hadn¡¯t thought about it. I do and I don¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°I feel the same. Didn¡¯t you have questions for Eldrin?¡±

    ¡°I do, but I don¡¯t want to know the answers.¡±

    Hunter uncorked his water skin and took a sip. ¡°I know the feeling. Will knowing really change things?¡±

    Oliver opened his display. He was slacking. He hadn¡¯t checked the ratings, character level, or anything. He hadn¡¯t kept in touch with Eldrin as much as he should. ¡°I think I¡¯m having a nervous breakdown.¡±

    ¡°Na, you¡¯re putting things off because you have a lot on your mind. It¡¯s nothing. Reach out to him now, and you¡¯ll thank yourself.¡±

    Oliver typed on the clumsy interface as the group followed a rutted track that met the lake.

    Hey, Eldrin. Have you learned anything new?

    The scientist responded immediately. You have no idea. I¡¯ll summarize as best I can. NPCs have a few mental blocks. It¡¯s like a layer of sensory deception that keeps them from making connections between ideas. It¡¯s like learning a new word¡ªsuddenly, you see it everywhere. Before, you¡¯re mind ignored it, but once you¡¯re aware, it¡¯s right in front of you. NPCs ignore everything Players do that doesn¡¯t make sense in their world. Do you follow?

    Yes, it makes sense.

    Once the metal blocks are demolished, the NPC doesn¡¯t fit neatly into the System. Normally, an NPC dies and will respawn automatically in a new game world, but that doesn¡¯t happen once sentient. I¡¯m not sure how we¡¯re even alive. Something outside the code brought us back, so we awoke in the hospital afterlife. I think it¡¯s the psychopomps toying with us. Regardless, I know how to move you between worlds. I will add it to your menu soon. Good luck, Oliver.

    Move between worlds from the menu? So Oliver could return to Las Calas or take Hunter to the Grow Big or Die world. ¡°You were wrong. I shouldn¡¯t have talked to him. We will be able to move between worlds.¡±

    The displaced, disordered mass of peasants lengthened into a mile-long line, pushing carts and carrying children who wouldn¡¯t walk any further. They ran to the shore and scooped up mouthfuls of water when they reached the banks.

    Sir Edmund and Sir Gillian rode at the front.  Halfdan strolled beside them on foot, and the trio began to talk loudly after discovering a mutual interest in hunting. This went much better than the topic of war after Halfdan rejected the idea that cavalry would have any chance against his people.

    They approached the main gate of a sprawling city, and the great doors hung from broken hinges.

    Sir Gillian urged caution. He dismounted and sent in scouts, who reported a large number of undead. ¡°We only have to get to the docks. It¡¯s a wide thoroughfare. We can bring a few hundred at a time.¡±

    Oliver sat on the gatehouse, where he slipped his boots off and dried his feet. Getting the first batch of people through the city took an hour.

    Hunter leaned against a merlon with the gray sky behind him. ¡°Are you sure you want to get mixed up in all this?¡±

    ¡°Not really, but I have to. We can¡¯t eat ourselves into a higher rank like we did before. This is an RPG, and we need to fight and build a reputation.¡±

    ¡°And what do you think your advisory is doing?¡±

    Oliver was quiet while he thought about it. ¡°He¡¯s building a reputation with each city he destroys and raking in experience. I can¡¯t do that, even if my magic were strong enough.¡±

    Halfdan didn¡¯t push the subject but instead changed it. ¡°I didn¡¯t understand what you were doing or why when we met. I see now that the world is a dream, and you¡¯re fighting a foe outside it.¡±

    Oliver pulled a boot on. ¡°Is everyone sentient now?¡±

    Oliver and Halfdan followed behind the horde of three hundred down the thoroughfare.

    Figures lurked in alleyways with skeletal features. Blood painted walls like graffiti. The stench of decay hung in the air. One with an eye hanging from a socket followed them with its gaze.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    A few who were barricaded in buildings crawled out of boarded-up windows and joined the march down the road.

    At last, the group reached the docks. The pier extended onto murky water. Ships once moored there lay half-sunken or burned, except one vessel.

    A cog with weathered timbers and a single mast bobbed at the dock. Its hull had scrapes but appeared solid. A torn sail hung from a yard, showing evidence of prior attempts to flee. Several peasants recognized it, exclaiming they had served aboard ships like this many years ago.

    One said, ¡°It¡¯s an old style, but still good at moving a lot of cargo.¡±

    A gray-haired man named Ulf stepped forward and spoke to the knights. ¡°I know this lake better than my own mother¡¯s face. Give me a few old sailors and some muscle, and I¡¯ll get everyone across.¡±

    The knights agreed and sent a force to secure the deck, dispatching a few undead in the hold.

    Oliver boarded the cog¡¯s worn deck and climbed a stairway to the raised aft. From the vantage he could see over most of the city''s roofs.

    Ropes held a ring of shields around the raised platform. In the middle, a weathered ballista sat on a pivot.

    Water had blackened and rotted the wood. The ship looked like a deathtrap.

    Ulf ran an eye over the ropes and planks. ¡°She¡¯ll float.¡± He organized people into skills of carpentry, sewing, and strength.

    However, the knights and adventurers huddled around the whipstaff with nothing to do.

    ¡°We can load families,¡± Oliver said.

    Sir Edmund agreed, scanning the horizon. ¡°Look at all the fires.¡± Dozens of gray columns rose on either side of the lake. ¡°The enemy is close. We need to get these people over as soon as we can.¡±

    Refugees moved onto the cog in small groups, tripping and bumping into each other. They needed to step carefully over the warped boards and down snapped rungs.

    Owen stood next to the Ulf. ¡°In these past few centuries, little hath changed in the building of ships.¡±

    Ulf chuckled and pulled a splinter from a rotted bulwark. ¡°This thing is ancient. It carries cargo, though, and some lunatic still takes it across these deep waters.¡±

    Arms folded against an evening breeze, Charity gazed at the only visible spec of land on the far shore. ¡°I don¡¯t know how to swim.¡±

    Oliver wanted to wrap his arms around her to warm her up but couldn¡¯t bring himself to. It was only a game, after all. Why couldn¡¯t he at least act the way he wanted to be? The bonds of a fake life still had him trapped.

    They cut the thick ropes holding the vessel in place and cast off. The cog drifted from the dock, creaking. Ulf sent his fellow sailors out to adjust the rigging and waved to Oliver. ¡°You seem like a strong lad. Could you help set sail?¡±

    Oliver agreed and handed his swordstaff to Hunter. He stepped out onto the ratlines. Only one of the old sailors was fit enough to accompany him.

    The gray-haired man climbed quickly and looked down. ¡°You coming?¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡± The ropes held, and the accent brought Oliver to a platform where he had to climb through a hole.

    The spar jutted out over the water. The ship''s movement multiplied at this height and made the world tilt.

    The man had crawled out onto the spar. ¡°Untie the gaskets.¡±

    Oliver got down on his belly and sooted out. He¡¯d seen foot ropes on the last ship he was on, but not here. He worked on the rope and tried not to look down. Suddenly, he felt like he knew what he was doing, that all the rigging lines made some sense.

    Bing. He got a notification. When he climbed down to solid ground, he checked it. He had an old message that said he could level up as a Star Mage. And a new one said he had gained proficiency in sailing.

    After they hauled the sail out, the cog meandered out into the dark waters.

    Sunset stained the sky in dull reds. The ship rocked. Waves lapped at the hull.

    Oliver climbed the shrouds again and sat on the platform. The lake stretched in all directions, a dark plain under multiplying stars. He messaged Eldrin. He didn¡¯t want to leave the scientist in the dark, especially with how much help he had been. He told him about his whereabouts and his rough plan.

    The breeze lessened since the ship went in the same direction. It raised goosebumps on his arms. Before he climbed down, he smelled something. It was like rotting seaweed, or worse.

    From his vantage, he scanned the horizon and spotted a mast aftward. An alarm sounded in his mind when he saw the crew. ¡°Ship,¡± he called down.

    Ulf ordered everyone with a bow to the fore and aft castles. Sigrid stood among them at the aft.

    Oliver hurried down and reclaimed his swordstaff. He asked Ulf to help make room for him at the very stern of the ship.

    Sigrid stood behind him. ¡°Are you going to sink them?¡±

    Of course, Oliver was. This was the perfect opportunity to gain more reputation. Plus, this was the only way to survive.

    He took a steady breath and thought about aiming. He¡¯d try one shot at this distance and wait if he missed. The star energy burned inside him as if it wanted to release itself. He unleashed a beam that tore through the night. It struck the undead vessel¡¯s hull amidships, puncturing planks with a searing flash.

    The hull split, fragments dissolving in the beam¡¯s path. There was a moment of silence, and the entire ship burst into flames. The water boiled around it, and large columns of steam rose.

    The cog pitched slightly from the discharge of magical energy. Oliver gripped a shield at the side to steady himself. The release of power had increased. But it took more out of him as well. He¡¯d have to wait a few minutes between blasts if he ever had to use it in succession.

    The sailors and knights exchanged looks on deck. They seemed surprised or afraid. Perhaps they were in awe.

    The land appeared as a black strip against moon reflections and stars. Close up, a gray line of rocky beach and sparse trees met them.

    The ship had to make three crossings to ferry the families across the lake. Meanwhile, they slept on the narrow beach. When the last families arrived, it was morning.

    Oliver and his companions found themselves forced to flee north. The enemy appeared no more than a league south.

    Sir Gillian rode up and down the line of people. ¡°If someone can¡¯t walk, carry them. If they can¡¯t be carried, leave them behind.¡±

    Oliver and his companions hurried ahead. He climbed a tree to get a better look at the coming threat.

    Thousands of soldiers marched toward, along the lake and in a thin forest. At the outskirts of their ranks, they fought undead. Amongst the ordinary units, a few massive hulks pulled sleds. Giants and trolls moved among the multitudes.

    Oliver had planned to help defeat this force. That would be a stepping stone to a higher rank, but this was daunting.

    Hunter materialized on a bough beside him. ¡°Second guessing yourself?¡±

    ¡°You could say that.¡±

 CH36 The Unstoppable Siege

    The ramparts of Halshan Castle came into view an hour after the mountains did. It was built into a thousand-foot plateau in the foothills and rose haf again with white stone. The sprawling citadel had two concentric rings of stone walls separated by ditches carved into the hill.

    Oliver spurred his horse forward. He had ridden as much as he could stand and walked the rest. At least now, he didn¡¯t draw attention to himself while mounting and dismounting.

    ¡°Last I was here,¡± Owen said. ¡°Naught but the castle upon the height stood. It lay betwixt the goblins of the mountains and the kobolds of the plains. Were it not for this place, mankind would never have survived in this place.¡±

    Sir Edmund signaled a halt. ¡°It still holds the goblins back. It¡¯s some ten leagues over the pass to the Sea Peoples¡¯ first outpost, and between is a dangerous journey.¡± He turned back to the mass behind him. ¡°I¡¯ll talk to the king and get everyone to safety, but they¡¯ll have to wait here.¡±

    The army pursued them not far behind. If the people didn¡¯t get into the citadel, they¡¯d be crushed between the walls and Lord Emrich¡¯s forces.

    Oliver and his companions rode through the first gate behind the knights. Crossbowmen manned the turrets on either side. Markets stretched from just inside to the next gate, narrow ways full of fragrances, colorful carpets, and garments.

    The knights left them at an inn and continued toward the castle.

    The innkeeper had a single available room, so they crowded into it, tossed the mattress on the floor, and laid sideways so six would fit.

    A notification sounded. Oliver, I have good and bad news. I¡¯m adding world switching to your menu. I only know of three, which I gave you access to. But, I wasn¡¯t able to reproduce the psychopomps¡¯ ability. I need to isolate you from your surroundings, and the best hack I could come up with is for you to travel at about one hundred and twenty miles per hour. Any slower, and you risk a mishap.

    Oliver had to read the message twice. How am I supposed to do that? It¡¯s not like I have a car.

    I¡¯m afraid a car isn¡¯t the best way to do it. You need to be isolated from inanimate objects. You could, in theory, take another person with you, but you¡¯ll need to drop from a height of at least fifteen hundred feet.

    Well, switching worlds wasn¡¯t an option. He wasn¡¯t even scared of heights. That kind of fall was certain death.

    ¡°What worries you?¡± Owen asked.

    ¡°I can go home.¡±

    Charity rolled to her side. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    Oliver sat up into a cross-legged position. He looked at her a moment, and she appeared worried. Worried that he¡¯ll leave them? ¡°I think you¡¯re all aware, enlightened, or whatever you want to call it. Sentient,¡± he said. ¡°I come from a pretty depressing world, but I have the ability to see it again.¡±

    Hunter furrowed his brow. ¡°I thought our worlds were gone, that when we die, our soul goes on into the next one.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think so.¡± Oliver had asked Eldrin several times how it worked, and the scientist called it asynchronous. ¡°The worlds share the same place and time but take turns so fast that they¡¯re like three different worlds. I can¡¯t explain it. I barely understand any of it.¡±

    Hunter relaxed with his back against the wall. ¡°I¡¯m not sure it matters.¡±

    ¡°Of course, it matters,¡± Saj said. ¡°You may not feel attached to your past, but you are. To truly reach enlightenment, you must accept that you are your past. Without it, you don¡¯t exist.¡± His eyes widened, and his display lit his face. ¡°I leveled up. All I did was think.¡±

    Hunter shook his head. ¡°There is no past. You are because you experience. End of story.¡±This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Another hour passed before the refugees entered the gate, and tents popped up around the inn and lee of the wall. Fear etched their faces, but most appeared relieved since the enemy forces followed and set camp outside bowshot.

    Oliver wanted to ask Sir Edmund what to do, but the man disappeared when a sea of defenders whisked him away to talk tactics.

    Halfdan pointed to the main gate. ¡°Let¡¯s have a better look.¡±

    Sigrid, Saj, Charity, and Owen followed in tow.

    The latter put his hands on the crenelation and swept his gaze over the multitude of enemy forces. ¡°A mighty host. But lo, this structure hath grown and flourished through the ages. Even the old fortress stopped as many men. Let them break upon these walls.¡±

    Banners snapped in the wind, bearing Halshan¡¯s crest¡ªa griffin and crossed swords. A bowman pointed to the other gates and explained that their inn stood near Red Gate, indicated by the red flags. It is the same with the four gates of the Outer Ring, each named after a color. Besides the inner main gate rose Archers¡¯ Perch, a tower high enough to defend both main gates.

    The enemy didn¡¯t rest when the evening grew cool and dim. Four giants felled trees and split them into rough sections that people shaped into lumber. By nightfall, siege towers and other equipment took shape.

    Sir Edmund finally arrived. His armor reflected torches. ¡°There. That must be Lord Emrich.¡±

    A tent lay beyond the construction. The desert devil spun close to it.

    Oliver put a hand in his pocket and felt the gloves. What other magical items did the player possess? Perhaps Eldrin would know. Can you tell me anything about Lord Emrich?

    It wasn¡¯t until morning that the scientist responded. By then, the enemy giants had pushed the siege equipment forward. Sorry, I was sleeping. He¡¯s a player who recently made a deal with that god you met a while back. His main ability is to dispel magic. So don¡¯t let him see you cast.

    Lord Emrich now showed rank twenty. With three worlds available, he¡¯s easily one of the hundred best Players.

    A horn blasted from somewhere below, and messengers rode along the bridge, stopping short of the gate. A man with a condescending voice and a long, thin nose spoke loud enough to hear. ¡°I have a message for your king. Is he present?¡±

    Sir Edmund nodded to an important-looking man before peering over and responding. ¡°Come closer. You sound like you¡¯re mumbling.¡±

    The messenger frowned, forming lines visible even at this distance. ¡°You can hear me just fine. Do not play with Lord Emrich. He¡¯s in no mood after dealing with your undead.¡±

    ¡°Please,¡± the knight said. ¡°Step closer and speak up. I want to send a message back.¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± the messenger said. He looked to his company and then rode alone to the gatehouse. ¡°What is your¡­¡± He turned his horse to flee.

    Sand as hot as coals poured down onto the messenger. He screamed and fell, trying to rip his armor off his sizzling flesh. His companions galloped away and left him.

    Laughter erupted, but Oliver didn¡¯t even chuckle. He wasn¡¯t a fan of burns and didn¡¯t find it funny in the slightest.

    Lord Emrich responded predictably. The enemy attacked. Soldiers with wooden covers ran forward. Arrows rained down but stuck into the protective wood. Their own archers shot from siege towers. Giants tossed boulders like they were trebuchets but with more accuracy. And the desert devil twirled forward and conjured an earth elemental.

    Oliver ducked under a rock that skipped from the rampart. Stone fragments exploded, and the projectile caved in a structure below, sending roof tiles flying.

    Sir Edmund called for reinforcements and turned to his archers. ¡°Keep shooting. Stand your ground.¡±

    Oliver found Sir Gillian, who clapped him on the shoulder.

    The knight stood upright as if taunting death.¡°If you can do something, please do it. Fight well, and the king will reward you.¡±

    Oliver nodded. Could he turn the army alone? Let¡¯s see what they think of this.

    The Astral Lance slammed into a giant. Blood and meat erupted and painted those around it crimson. It was like a hundred pounds of hamburger shot out of the world, but the giant only staggard and let one arm go limp.

    Oh, shit.

    The only good that came of Oliver¡¯s attack was a rallying cry from those around him. They felt emboldened to fight alongside a wizard. Volleys of arrows loosed down on the assault. The cauldron of hot sand poured onto the unfortunates who¡¯d progressed to the gate.

    Oliver sank another lance of power into the giant.

    Jaw and bone flew from a detonated skull. The giant flopped down into the swarm, crushing soldiers beneath its weight.

    Boulders continued to shake the gatehouse. A wall section collapsed as the earth elemental burrowed up through the ground.

    Shrapnel hit Oliver in the head. He saw a flash of light and heard a ring. Blood droplets formed at his feet, and his hand returned from his scalp wet.

    Sir Gillian pulled him downstairs. ¡°We¡¯ve lost the main gate. Watch your step.¡±

    ¡°We lost?¡± Oliver asked, stumbling.

    The knight¡¯s eyes were wild. ¡°No, we¡¯ll fall back to Red Gate. We will not let down the King.¡±

    You¡¯re scared shitless.

 CH37 The Charge

    Oliver checked his mana and figured he could cast three more times. The thickness of the bridge would be a challenging target, but he readied a Star Beam.

    Everyone behind him fled, leaving the gatehouse that jolted under the bombardment of giants hurling stones.

    A chip whistled through the air and sliced his cheek. Of course, it was his luck that it hit the wrong side, not the side with a plastic mask.

    The enemy rushed forward, no longer under threat of the archers. They piled over each other in a lusty hunt for blood.

    The liquid light of the Star Beam cut through their meat to hit the stone and melt it. But it petered out before cutting through the bridge, stopping with about three feet to go.

    Oliver felt ill and staggered back.

    The footsoldiers retreated but were stopped by their own numbers behind them. A few fell the forty feet to dash themselves on the rocks.

    The bridge cracked, and chucks fell away, but it held.

    A giant stepped onto it, rock in his fist, ready to smash the gate open, but the stone under his feet gave way. The giant landed on his feet, standing two-thirds as high as the ditch. Men rained down around him, some surviving after a cushion of their comrades built up.

    A female giant reached down and pulled the other up. ¡°Don¡¯t let them hut you. Look what happened to Zigant. Smash that little man.¡±

    The boulder came hurtling toward Oliver, and right before it turned him into a pancake, he threw himself. The floor slammed into his shoulder, and he rolled to his feet and sprinted down stairs and toward Red Gate.

    A tower behind him toppled, imploding at the halfway point and sending the top half into the ground.

    He fell to the cobbles and scrambled up.

    A wooden beam stamped the ground beside him.

    When he reached the Red Gate, every face was on him, smiling or in awe. ¡°You¡¯re our hope,¡± one said. ¡°Who cares where the King¡¯s wizard is if we have him,¡± said another. A cheer rose from the defenders along the wall.

    Halfdan, standing near Oliver, gave a grim nod. ¡°Well done.¡±

    The morale seemed high even though they¡¯d lost the first gate. How the citadel was designed meant they¡¯d have multiple defensive points until they defended from the old castle. The mood changed abruptly, however.

    A swirl of dark clouds drifted overhead. A cloud giant rode a carpet of mist over the collapsed span. Worse, it began to rain, and the giant waved her arms like a conductor, moving droplets like a magnet moved iron shavings.

    Rain beaded together and sloshed into the ditch. Eventually, it would fill if it continued.

    Sir Gillian pointed by a row of torches on the enemy line. ¡°There, a Witchfriend and a Dark Captain. Why would they work together?¡±

    Oliver didn¡¯t answer, but he knew Lord Emrich was a Player, and who knew what kind of scheming happened between the caged god and the rank twenty.

    The enemy began to build. The felling of trees at the hands of unhuman axes gathered stockpiles of lumber. The efficiency was something to behold.

    Through the night, the Red Gate was quiet. At dawn and in the distance, Archer¡¯s Perch loosed arrows at the enemy, but the latter came in with covers over the freshly constructed floating bridge.

    Smoke curled over the fields beyond the broken outer gate. A graveyard of decomposed undead harrassed the encampment, but the Dark Captain seemed to take control of them. They crossed the bridge with the rest in a single file line, hallow eyesockets staring forward.

    Suddenly, a procession appeared on the wall. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    The King of Halshan wore a red cap on his comically pear-shaped suit of armor. A gold crown adorned his head in place of a helmet. Beside him was a girl who appeared far more regal than he did by a mile.

    Elstina showed no sign of recognition when her eyes fell on Oliver. However, her hand vaguely pointed him out as she spoke to the king. ¡°This is the one whom I mentioned to you over spiced wine and custard pie. He would be useful during the battle and beyond. And I would be pleased to see him under your guidance.¡± She flashed a look over that was gone as if it had never been.

    At the King¡¯s side, a tall, thin man walked up and was called chancellor. He wore robes and a deep, permanent frown.

    On the other side, a guard captain bore a polished halberd.

    Finally, a grizzled general waved everyone away from the outward parapet. ¡°Please, Sire, having you so close to the enemy is not strategic. They have magic and creatures. Nothing would bring more harm to the realm than to lose you.¡±

    ¡°Nonsense. We have a wizard here in this young fellow. Or do you doubt the elf? Anyway, I want to see a calvary charge.¡±

    The general mopped is face with his hand. ¡°A cavalry charge? But we have the upper hand defending from the walls.¡±

    The king narrowed his eyes. ¡°Do you doubt our knights?¡±

    ¡°Of course not. I¡¯ll ready a charge.¡±

    Sir Gillian bowed deeply. ¡°Your Majesty. The Red Gate stands, thanks in large part to Oliver here.¡± The defenders echoed him.

    The king¡¯s gaze passed over Oliver. ¡°I can¡¯t wait to see your tricks.¡± He turned. ¡°Elstina has made great strides in healing the rift between my people and the elves. The fact that Lord Emrich has allied with those who hate the elves the most gives me hope for a bright future.¡±

    The guard captain studied Oliver with a neutral expression. The chancellor took notes on a parchment.

    The general cleared his throat. ¡°What should be our target, Sire? With the charge.¡±

    The king waved him away as if bored with the man. ¡°You¡¯re the one who takes care of the details.¡±

    Sir Gillian and Sir Edmund exchanged uneasy glances. They backed away and disappeared from the wall, darting away as if disbanding. But they didn¡¯t go awol. They reappeared on the wall of the inner circle and headed to the second main gate.

    Before long, the clearing behind Red Gate bustled with men in plate armor, mounting armored horses and raising banners.

    Oliver moved forward to stare between merlons at the urging of those around him. Was he there to watch over the knights¡¯ charge?

    Halfdan, Sigrid, Saj, and Charity joined him. The first said, ¡°What do they want from you? Do you know what you¡¯re doing?¡±

    ¡°No, and no.¡±

    Saj stroked his chin in thought. ¡°The general seems not to think the king''s decision reasonable. I think you must save their asses.¡±

    Owen walked over. The man had stayed with them rather than slip away to the Dark Captain. Perhaps he was just an innocent imprisoned for a few hundred years. ¡°Hast thou perceived the likeness?¡±

    Saj nodded. ¡°Immediately. You are very much his line.¡±

    Oliver turned to look back at them. ¡°What are you talking about.¡±

    ¡°The king and Owen,¡± Saj said. ¡°Take two hundred pounds off the king and their identical.¡±

    The Red Gate opened, and the cavalry thundered forth, lowering lances.

    Instantly, arrow volleys rained down, accompanied by the roar of trolls and giants.

    The knights vanished into dust and smoke. Oliver strained to see.

    When the dust settled, horns signaled a retreat.

    The king slapped the stone of his castle. ¡°No. No, no, no. Don¡¯t retreat. It can¡¯t be over.¡±

    The knights stumbled back, carrying wounded or dragging the remains of companions. May were now on foot.

    Oliver shot an Astral Lance past them and into the enemy. It may give them some time.

    Few riders returned unscathed. Many lay gasping while healers tried their best to help.

    The general, stoic and grim, helped some knights dismount, their horses half-lamed. ¡°We lost many,¡± he said tersely.

    The king turned his attention to Oliver. He was shaking with grief or anger. ¡°She told me you had power enough to tear down armies,¡± he spat. ¡°Why?¡±

    Oliver pressed his lips together, uncertain how to respond. ¡°I bought time at the bridge. I was able to use it to our advantage.¡±

    The king¡¯s eyes darted about in a growing panic. ¡°We could all die. All of us. Who guards my daughter?¡± He seized Oliver¡¯s sleeve, trembling. ¡°Swear to me you¡¯ll keep her safe.¡±

    Oliver stepped back, startled. ¡°Who?¡±

    ¡°The princess. They can¡¯t touch her. Perhaps you¡¯re better as a guard than a weapon.¡± The king wandered away, talking to himself.

    Owen watched him go. ¡°Nay, no kinship hath been discerned.¡±

    The guard captain seized Oliver¡¯s arm. ¡°You heard him.¡±

    Oliver looked around for help, but no one came to his rescue.

    Elstina walked away from talking to the chancellor and disappeared.

    Halfdan put his hand to his axe. ¡°We won¡¯t let the citadel fall.¡±

    Saj nodded. ¡°Yes, it sounds like you¡¯ll be getting some rest.¡±

    Charity seemed worried, but she gave words of encouragement. ¡°How hard could it be to guard a princess''s door?¡±

 CH38 Threes Company

    A guard thrust Oliver in place and nodded. ¡°Right here will do it.¡±

    Right here was the door to the princess''s bedroom. Supposedly, assassins or kidnappers could scale a wall and pose a threat to the royal bloodline.

    Oliver had never felt what he could only describe as outrage at the hand on his sleeve. He¡¯d been a mat for people to wipe their feet on for so long that the feeling was alien.

    The guard captain squeezed before letting go. ¡°I should be here. If anything happens to her...¡± He let the words hang and then stormed away.

    Oliver met the princess when she cracked the door open and stared at him from the narrow opening. ¡°So you¡¯re my new watchdog?¡±

    Oliver nodded slightly. He was thinking of abandoning his post. Why was he stuck here while his friends were in danger? The king was a fool.

    ¡°I am Princess Thalia. You¡¯ll give me your full attention when I speak to you. What¡¯s with the mask?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a burn.¡±

    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t want to hear your war stories. Carry on.¡± She slammed the door. Apple doesn¡¯t fall far from the tree.

    He¡¯d been lost in thought on the way here and looked both directions down the corridor. Shit, which way?

    How long could a castle like this hold back giants and spellcasters? In the open, the knights had been useless. Lances can¡¯t pierce hide that thick. One had gone under dead skin like a needle, drawing no blood. But surely ballistas and catapults could deal damage.

    A blood-curdling scream emanated from down the corridor.

    He tensed and turned toward it, the point of the swordstaff leading the way.

    A gray-haired woman shot out of a door with a broom. A rat skittered away from her.

    He relaxed and put his back to the cold, painted stone. Life continued like normal in the castle, as if a battle didn¡¯t rage outside. In fact, he couldn¡¯t hear anything but the dull isolation caused by the thick walls.

    Click. The door opened a crack again. ¡°I thought you looked fun, but you¡¯re as boring as the guards.¡±

    Am I boring?

    She was still smiling, and then she pushed open the door. Her brown hair bounced around her shoulders. Her silky dress clung to her curves.

    A lump caught in his throat. He¡¯d expected the king to have a little daughter, not a voluptuous one nearly his age.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to fix your personality,¡± she said and beckoned him to follow, setting off at a quick pace down the passage.

    Oliver trailed her through narrow corridors and downstairs. Somehow, they arrived at a kitchen where cooks toiled over steaming pots. She slipped behind a pillar, waiting for the right moment before snatching a jar of spice from a table. She tiptoed to a simmering stew pot, overturned the spice jar into the broth, and replaced the lid. Then she darted back to him, stifling a giggle.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± he asked.

    She grabbed his wrist and pulled him into an archway. ¡°Shh.¡±

    Moments later, a round woman sampled the stew, let out a cough, and sputtered, spitting the food out. She rapped a wooden spoon on the tabletop. ¡°What fool spiced this?¡±

    Thalia¡¯s shoulders shook as she stifled a laugh. She pulled Oliver along here and there. At first, he found himself shaking his head, but her childlike enthusiasms broke down his defense, and he found himself forgetting the responsibilities he¡¯d worn like a yoke.

    When was the last time he was entirely absorbed in mischievous fun? Maybe when he was a teenager, though it hadn¡¯t been as innocent. His two friends and he went to breakfast, and before the bill came, they dined and dashed. It wasn¡¯t something they planned, nor did he have time to think about it.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    What was this crazy girl going to do next? Hopefully nothing that would get him into trouble.

    She pointed to a pair of guards standing at attention before a set of double doors. The doors stood at the end of a short hallway. ¡°They''re guarding the treasury room.¡± She watched him. ¡°You didn¡¯t betray anything at the mention of the treasury. I thought your eyes would go wide.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve never had anything. I guess I don¡¯t know what it would be like to.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a peasant? How in this world did you end up guarding me? My father hates peasants.¡± She looked at him as if for the first time. She pushed a lever up slowly as if to keep it quiet. ¡°There¡¯s a switch on each side. I just deactivated the trap door in the hallway. Now, walk past, staying in the shadows, and say you¡¯ll steal the gold.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Do it, peasant boy.¡±

    ¡°Fuck off.¡± That rolled off his tongue. It surprised him, as he¡¯d usually kept his immediate thoughts to himself.

    She gasped, but it was feigned. Did she take anything seriously?  ¡°How dare you. Anyway, I¡¯ll give you a favor. You can ask it any time. Think of that. I could be a queen.¡±

    ¡°Fine.¡± He crept through the T intersection and whispered about gold. He felt like a fool.

    One guard flipped the lever beside him. When they tried to walk forward, they slid through a trapdoor that spanned the path. One grabbed hold to the edge, but the other grabbed on and they both went down.

    She flipped the lever. ¡°Come.¡± She pulled a small stone from the wall and inserted it sideways into a narrow opening. The doors clicked, and she pushed through.

    He found himself walking amid piles of gold, silver, and jewelry. ¡°Are the guards okay?¡± He looked at a jewel-encrusted sword on the wall above a helmet. Behind it was a cloak that caught his eye. Something about it pulled to him.

    ¡°They went to a holding cell. I¡¯ll let them out later.¡± She punched his arm. ¡°Take something.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to.¡±

    She punched harder. ¡°Take one thing now. You can leave it in my room if you¡¯re really that chivalrous.¡±

    He took the cloak and had no idea why. He¡¯d already wanted to grab it, and her prodding was enough for him to do it.

    ¡°Hurry.¡± She pulled him out of the treasury and down flights of stairs. They kept going until it began damp and had an old smell. She entered a side room lined with casks. She grabbed a dusty bottle of wine and pulled the cork with a neat twist. ¡°A good year,¡± she said, offering the bottle.

    ¡°This is crazy. There¡¯s a battle going on.¡± Yet, he accepted it and took a swill. His heart was pounding from the sprints through the castle. The wine tasted dry, and it seemed to go to his head impossibly fast.

    She took a long drink, and the bottle sounded a deep pop when her lips released it. ¡°What do you want to do?¡±

    He took the question as a more profound question than it was. What did he want to do? Nothing at the moment. ¡°Just relax, I guess.¡±

    ¡°Good idea. I know the perfect place.¡±

    He followed her and felt slightly unsteady. Not drunk, just lightheaded. He hadn¡¯t eaten much at all.

    She waltzed into a garden that felt hidden, though it was at the center of the keep. A circular pond glimmered at its center, a few leaves floating on the surface. She tossed the wine bottle aside, flung her shoes, and waded into the water. Her dress billowed around her. ¡°Don¡¯t just stand there, come on. We¡¯ll probably die when the castle falls anyway.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°I won¡¯t let you or my friends get hurt.¡±

    ¡°Yes, tell Lord Emrich to be gentle with the spoils of war,¡± she mocked.

    He laid his swordstaff and cloak down and unlaced his boots on a low bench under a bush. The sun had dipped behind a tower, and the whole area was in cool shadow. Was the castle''s defense that dire that the princess thought it would fall? No, she was probably toying with him.

    After this little swim, he would go back out there when his head cleared. The water did look inviting.

    He hesitated with one foot in the water. She was floating on her back. Her ample tits jutted from the water. Surely some kind of bra that held them up.

    She dunked and rose with her hair laid dark and straight. She spit a stream of water. Then she splashed him.

    He slipped entirely into the pond and returned the favor.

    ¡°How dare you.¡± She splashed him again.

    He blinked, and madness seized him. He was going to toss her or dunk her.

    She giggled as he came forward, spinning to avoid him.

    Every worry he had melted away. The realization made him try to clear his thoughts, but he didn¡¯t care. He laughed and grabbed her. But then he didn¡¯t know what he was doing. He had his hands on her, and she turned around and leaned her back into him. They held hands around his waist.

    He moved his hands higher and pulled down, spilling her tits out of her dress. What am I doing?

    He froze, but her hands guided his to grip her tits. He lifted and squeezed and felt the hard nipples under his palm.

    She moaned with the side of her face against his. He was pressed up against her, and she moved her ass against him.

    Without warning, Elstina stood at the edge of the water. ¡°There you are. We¡¯ve been looking everywhere for you.¡±

    Halfdan appeared beside her. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say everywhere. But we asked around.¡±

    Elstina spun. ¡°No, stop him.¡±

    But it was too late. The king peered past the elf to the pool where his daughter submerged her pale orbs. ¡°Fucking kill him. I want him tarred. Cut his goddamn balls off and shove them in his mouth.¡±

    Oliver became quite sober quite quickly.

 CH39 Faith

    ¡°No, Father,¡± Thalia said. ¡°You will not harm him.¡±

    ¡°Shut up.¡± The king¡¯s jowls wiggled with rage. He turned to his guards. ¡°Seize him.¡±

    She yanked Oliver from the pond, pulling the top of her dress over her shoulders as she went. Her dress had sopped up gallons of water and poured onto the flagstones.

    The guards came forward apprehensively. They¡¯d likely seen or heard about what Oliver had done against the enemy.

    ¡°We¡¯re all going to die,¡± the king said. ¡°They¡¯ll slaughter us all, but you¡¯re going to suffer more than I.¡±

    Oliver had no idea what to do except retrieve his weapon. He leaned down and snatched it up with one hand. And then the cloak.

    Elstina whistled, and Saj, Charity, and Sigrid came into the garden and skirted the pond. Halfdan, too, moved to join the target of the King¡¯s ire.

    ¡°It¡¯s true? They¡¯re taking the castle?¡± Oliver asked.

    Halfdan pulled his axe from the loop on his belt. ¡°Halshan Castle falls.¡±

    Elstina whirled on the guards but first whispered angrily. ¡°I didn¡¯t take you for a womanizer. While you enjoyed yourself, the giants broke through.¡± She raised her force in a show of command. ¡°The Malarite Crown has claimed this man as the elves'' property, and you¡¯ll bring hell down on this place if you kill him.¡±

    ¡°Hell is already here,¡± the king said.

    How bad could it be? Lord Emrich would take the castle for his own and betray the elves. He¡¯d rise in the ranks and become even more of a challenge to defeat. The more important question was whether he¡¯d join Coda.

    One of the guards stepped forward. ¡°So greedy you live for centuries and eventually own it all. The elf witch brought this on us and even sided with the Witchfriends.¡±

    Before anything else could be said, a thunderous crash created a stone waterfall from the walls. Stone projectiles whistled in and slammed into a tower and one in the garden, shaking the ground.

    Quickly, Oliver brought up his display and sent a message. Eldrin, I need you. He turned to his companions. ¡°To the top of the tower. I¡¯ll explain when we get there.¡± To his relief, his companions followed, and the princess led the way up a round stairway without rails and into an arched door.

    ¡°After them,¡± the king said. He and his guards followed with swords rasping from their scabbards.

    Elstina moved to the foot of the tower stairway. ¡°There¡¯s Mistgass in a nearby mountain cave. If we could get there, we could¡ª¡±

    Oliver took the first flight three at a time. ¡°No, that would lead me back into your mother''s hands.¡±

    Elstina turned back and raised her hands. Ice formed on the ground. A hot wind blew away from the spot and singed the tapestries on the walls.

    The guards skidded to a stop and threw their hands up. The wind hit them, and they cried out in pain. Red-faced, they continued and fell on the slick ice.

    What¡¯s the matter?

    Heart hammering, Oliver read the message but couldn¡¯t respond until he reached the top. He glanced back and saw his companions falling behind but almost at the end of the fifty-odd-story climb.

    The guards and king were nowhere to be seen. They wouldn¡¯t be able to keep up, as they were armored. They probably were trying to catch their breath far below.

    They ran through the corridors, following the rush of knights and guards. Rubble tumbled across the floor where the stone had struck. Outside, on a small parapet, Halfdan and Sigrid peered at the horizon. Saj stood by them, pointing. Owen lingered near a corner, baffled by the technology of catapults and ballistae.

    The stairs spiraled the outside of the spire at the end. The world was laid out like a battle map, with small soldiers moving like in a real-time strategy game.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    Oliver gained the very top, where he could stand on a flat part of the roof discolored with patina. He gripped a flagpole and looked down as his companions joined.

    They looked at him in confusion.

    ¡°We¡¯re here,¡± Elstina said. ¡°Now what?¡±

    He sent a message back. Can I change worlds if I gain speed from falling four hundred feet?

    Then, he released Star Beams at the giants, tearing down the inner wall. Maybe if he weakened the army, they¡¯d have a chance. It was a stupid thought. He could see the Dark Captain and Lord Emrich riding over the rubble and into the castle. If he couldn¡¯t even stop them, how would he have a chance against Coda?

    It¡¯s dangerous, and I advise against it, but that¡¯s enough speed to put you ninety percent in the green.

    Oliver looked at his companions. They¡¯d followed him because of their faith in him, which was nuts. Well, maybe Thalia only came because she was bored. ¡°I¡¯m going to ask you guys to do something insane. Eldrin can move us to another game world. We have to jump.¡±

    Hunter spoke first. ¡°I¡¯ve been to another world with Oliver. I believe him.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve left us no choice, Oliver,¡± Elstina said. ¡°If the king doesn¡¯t kill us, the Lord Emrich will.¡±

    The group broke out in an argument. Saj came to his side quickly, but they wanted to know every alternative. But one by one, they agreed. The princess was the last of them and believed it was a story to sugarcoat ending it all before the enemy did.

    ¡°Hold hands,¡± Oliver said. ¡°We can¡¯t go separately.¡± He opened his display and saw the option to change worlds.

    Select the option, and it will pop up and ask if you¡¯re sure. Press it. Then hit yes when you¡¯re in the air just before you hit the ground.

    Even Halfdan, who seemed unphased as a rock, struggled to stay calm. He muttered some prayer to a mountain god.

    Oliver felt Elstina shake. ¡°It¡¯s going to work.¡±

    ¡°If we die,¡± Saj said. ¡°I want all of you to know¡ª¡±

    Halfdan cut him off. ¡°We¡¯re not going to die.¡±

    The jingle of armor preceded the guards. They climbed the external stairs toward them. ¡°You have nowhere to go,¡± one said.

    Another one said, ¡°Princess, come over here. Your father¡¯s having great pain in his chest. This might be the last time you see him.¡±

    ¡°Where is he,¡± Thalia asked.

    ¡°About halfway up the tower.¡±

    Elstina gripped her arm. ¡°If you go back, you¡¯re dead.¡±

    ¡°Let me go,¡± the princess said, struggling to escape.

    ¡°Head first. Now,¡± Oliver said and jumped.

    They all took to the air, with the princess yanked off the edge by Elstina. The wind rushed upward as they gained speed. Below them, the battle raged, and arrows streaking with fire filled the air.

    The windows of the tower flashed upward. The garden grew in size, the swimming pond a growing circle.

    Oliver tried to shout to his companions to dive, to go faster, but the wind tore his words away. He felt his cheeks flapping.

    The transparent display showed, are you sure, and the ground behind it seemed a split second from impact. Selecting yes would remove the danger, but the faster they went the greater their chance of survival.

    Oliver waited until it seemed like the ground was inches away. The world warped and sucked into a black hole. He still felt hands in his and like he was falling.

    Everything went bright, and he lay face first on a cold, white floor surrounded by walls of light.

    Saj sat up and looked around. ¡°This is the afterlife.¡±

    Charity and Sigrid walked the room''s perimeter, sliding their hands on the smooth surface.

    Bing. Oliver, it looks like it worked from my end. Is everyone all right?

    Yes, we¡¯re in a room.

    There¡¯s a door. It¡¯s a perfect fit. Hard to find, but it will bring you to the world you want to visit.

    Owen and Thalia looked around bewildered. He drew his sword.

    Halfdan banged on the wall. ¡°I don¡¯t think the afterlife would look like this. We would run free on fertile fields.¡±

    Oliver took the blade of his swordstaff and ran the tip along the wall. The material was so hard it didn¡¯t scratch. He ran onto a click. The blade had crossed a line. He thought immediately of Las Calas when he pushed.

    The door vanished, leaving a rectangular hole with a view of the desert. A tumbleweed rolled into the door.

    Hunter crushed it with his foot. ¡°Where are we, Oliver?¡±

    Elstina finally stood. ¡°It feels different.¡±

    How would he explain this world to them? All he said was, ¡°I¡¯m home,¡± and he stepped out onto the sand.

    The sun blazed overhead, casting no shadows over the small bushes dotting the rugged landscape. A hot wind shuffled the dirt.

    Everyone stepped out of the portal, and the sand crunched under their feet.

    A dome-shaped off-roader crawled over a nearby hill. A man with a beard and sunglasses turned it sharply and approached. He slid to a stop and opened the door. He raised a shotgun. ¡°Who the fuck are you guys?¡±

 CH40 Changing Gears

    Oliver shielded his eyes, still reeling from the sudden shift of the world. His mind grasped for memories that seemed far away. Why was he here? Yes, he had escaped the dangers at Halshan Castle.

    Hunter, Owen, Halfdan, Sigrid, Elstina, Charity, Thalia, and Saj stood behind him. This was no place they recognized. To them, this was a strange realm.

    He had some explaining to do. But first, he had to deal with the immediate danger.

    The man jerked the shotgun when the doorway, which looked like a sheet of glass, blinked out of existence. He shook his narrow face and scraggly beard as if trying to banish the vision. ¡°Don¡¯t try nothing,¡± he warned. ¡°You guys going to a Renaissance fair in the middle of nowhere or what?¡±

    Oliver thought of dropping the swordstaff, but it probably wasn¡¯t a threat anyway compared to the twelve gauge. ¡°Easy. We¡¯re lost.¡±

    The shotgun¡¯s muzzle hovered over each target. ¡°Not smart getting lost on private property. Most people see the barbed wire fence and figure they¡¯ve gone the wrong way. Now get on the ground before I start filling you with holes.¡±

    Elstina leaned closer. She eyed the gun, brow furrowing. ¡°Oliver, what is that?¡±

    The confidence melted away from Oliver. He could save them with a deft lunge and the reach of his weapon. He had no mana and had to try but lacked the guts. Was this some effect of changing worlds? ¡°It¡¯s like a magic wand that¡¯ll blow your brains out.¡±

    She waved a hand, and a hot wind smashed her clothes to her body.

    All of them felt the hot blast in their face.

    Before the man could pull the trigger, the shotgun turned frosty white. His hands had frozen to the gun, and he struggled to let go. ¡°Ahh, it¡¯s cold. Ahhh. You¡¯re all fucking aliens. You¡¯re a bunch of goddamn extraterrestrials.¡±

    Oliver bent, retrieving the ruined shotgun. The man¡¯s eyes darted between them. ¡°Look, I don¡¯t want trouble,¡± he said, stepping back. ¡°Take whatever you want. Just don¡¯t probe me.¡±

    Halfdan towered over the man. ¡°Where are your wagon¡¯s horses? Are they invisible?¡±

    The man looked down, still tugging at the gun. ¡°I don¡¯t know what the hell you¡¯re talking about.¡±

    Oliver guided the man to a boulder and had him put the barrel down. He slammed a fist-sized rock into the metal, and the cold steel cracked. Then, he submerged the gun in hot sand to melt the ice. ¡°We¡¯re taking your car. Where can I drive it and leave it? I¡¯m looking for a phone.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s running on fumes. You¡¯ll see the water tower first, due east.¡±

    ¡°And a town?¡±

    ¡°Yep.¡± The man kept his head down. Did he really think they were aliens?

    The metal hulk propped on nobby, low-pressure tires. Its paint had peeled under the relentless sun. The keys hung from the ignition switch.

    Oliver hopped in and looked over his shoulder at the back bench. ¡°Pile in.¡± And he meant pile. Nine people had to fit in a five-seater. They crammed in as he turned the key, and nothing happened.

    Elstina howled when she sat down, and the metal seatbelt touched her skin. ¡°Ugh, command it to go.¡±

    ¡°Give me a minute,¡± Oliver said. ¡°I never got my license. And this is a manual.¡± He pressed the clutch and tried again. The engine growled to life. He¡¯d heard how to shift, but it stalled when he released the clutch. ¡°Shit.¡±The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    Even when he started going, the RPMs skyrocketed at walking speed. He shifted to third, and it lurched forward and bounded over the rocky terrain. He missed a three-foot drop and careened into a ravine.

    The car climbed out with ease, large tires rolling over rocks and bushes. The ride, however, jarred him up and down.

    A couple of miles later, the engine sputtered to a stop. The fuel gauge read empty.

    He got out. The door shut loudly against the quiet backdrop.

    He climbed onto the roof, which threatened to dent, and spotted the water tower.

    Closer, they walked onto a dirt road. A nearly illegible sign appeared to say mine in one direction and Willham in the other.

    Two guards patrolled the tower, rifles slung over their shoulders. It was only a matter of seconds before they spotted them.

    Oliver didn¡¯t want a fight, but the desert would take his friends before the sundown. The mountains and hills wavered with the heat waves. ¡°We need water, and they don¡¯t look friendly.¡±

    Elstina¡¯s forehead beaded with sweat. She wiped at it occasionally. ¡°I don¡¯t have much mana.¡±

    ¡°Allow me,¡± Hunter said, sprinting to the frame and climbing. He swung over the rail and put one in a chokehold just out of sight of the other. The efficiency was remarkable.

    Thalia watched Hunter lay the men down. ¡°I¡¯ve seen interesting waterworks in the south, but not made of metal. What kind of world have you brought us to? And why do I have a semi-transparent rectangle in my face?¡±

    Oliver explained everything he knew, and he noticed everyone listened. Likely, they¡¯d all become sentient. It seemed most NPCs, if not all, stood on the precipice of awareness. He told them of the scientist and Coda and the worlds that exist separate but together on the edge of a black hole. He speculated that NPCs died and were reborn in an endless cycle, except now for those separated from the System. No, not precisely separated, but outside its direct control.

    Thalia noted she was a healer and spent the next hour seated on the high platform, perusing her options.

    The water tower¡¯s valves required tools to open, and they thought of a way to get to the water until Halfdan lost patience and buried his axe into the side. Water seeped from the bottom of the cut, and he did it again until he¡¯d carved a hole.

    They took gulps.

    Halfdan returned the axe to his belt. ¡°Why do these men guard water?¡±

    ¡°Probably a gang is charging the town for water,¡± Oliver said. ¡°I bet they run the mine, too, so we should get out of here.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean by gang?¡±

    ¡°Their brigands. Outlaws.¡±

    ¡°The metalwork is wondrous! Doth this realm harbor many dwarves?¡± Owen asked.

    ¡°None,¡± Oliver said. ¡°There are no elves or dwarves. Just men. And the technology is hundreds of years more advanced.¡± He saw they didn¡¯t understand and struggled for words. ¡°You drove in the car. It¡¯s all machinery. They don¡¯t need magic to kill you at a distance. And most are armed to the teeth, especially out here.¡±

    ¡°Then they speak the language of violence. That¡¯s okay,¡± Halfdan said.

    They left the tower and walked downhill toward a half-abandoned city. Before long, they strode down dusty streets. The sign creaked above a bar with an open door, reading: ¡°Wild Rose.¡± More importantly, it had a payphone outside.

    Bullet holes scarred the siding. The dim interior had a keyboardist. A green LED light caught the smoke from the tables burning cannabis. Everyone turned to watch the group enter.

    Oliver noticed a no smoking, gun, or knife sign by the door, and he felt conscious of his swordstaff, but the various weapons at the patron''s hips and the smoke meant the policy was lax. He neared the bar.

    A woman with curly hair and heavy freckles looked him up and down. ¡°This some king of fantasy kink?¡±

    ¡°I need money and quarters. I have this,¡± he spilled silver coins onto the countertop. ¡°Silver.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± She looked them over. ¡°You¡¯re serious? Hold on, I¡¯ll get Jeb.¡± She took one coin and pushed the rest back. ¡°Go have a seat.¡±

    They drifted to a corner table, ignoring a few glares. The gloom accentuated the group¡¯s dirty faces from sweating in the desert. Outside a nearby window, the tall mountains rose between here and Las Calas. They had to cross them, which could be dangerous for several reasons.

    The bartender and a man who must be Jeb looked the coin over. He scratched it and held a bright light to it.

    Two men came in holding a young woman by her arms. She had long legs and brown bangs. They brought her to the bartender. ¡°We found a volunteer,¡± one said.

    ¡°Put her with the others,¡± the bartender said. ¡°They¡¯ll make her right at home.¡±

    Oliver almost fell out of his seat. The girl between the men was Zaisy. Sure, she wasn¡¯t a ladybug, but he¡¯d recognize that face anywhere. ¡°Hunter, look.¡±

 CH41 Reunion

    Oliver¡¯s throat felt tight. The world pressed down on him. He wanted to run away and not look back. Back in Credola, he¡¯d acted on the right idea and ventured off alone. Now, he couldn¡¯t even meet Princess Thalia¡¯s gaze, and not long ago, he¡¯d been tossing her tits around.

    Everyone around the table was looking at him.

    He quickly typed a message to Eldrin. Zaisy is here. She¡¯s the ladybug girl you met in Highside. How could she be here? Did she die again?

    Zaisy had been dragged upstairs, and presently, two bouncers blocked the way to anyone who would follow. They wore uzis in their holsters.

    Hunter cleaned under his nails with his dagger. ¡°Maybe we don¡¯t have to fight the whole place.¡± He scooted his chair back. ¡°I¡¯m going to the roof.¡±

    Oliver muttered that that was a good idea and followed. He saw Hunter scurry to the roof like a spider, but he couldn¡¯t do that. Squashed beside the bar, a derelict storefront with a double deck led to a rusted corrugated roof. He climbed onto a dry rotted railing that popped under his weight as he climbed up. The jump from roof to roof was only five feet, but he still had to force himself to jump. What¡¯s wrong with me?

    I cannot say exactly how she got where you are, but it¡¯s within parameters. When an NPC is outside the System, the psychopomps fix them and send them into other worlds. She may have been sent here when you three died. When are you returning?

    Oliver gripped the chipped edge of the bar¡¯s tiled roof. When would he return? Why was he here other than to bring back a weapon? His head felt foggy. Was this a good idea?

    Hunter lowered himself to a small balcony.

    Oliver reached down and accepted Hunter''s help to drop from the roof.

    The frosted window hid the interior, and it stood fastened closed.

    Hunter fiddled with the window, and it came open, revealing a dim room with a rug on a carpet. He Shadow Walked into obscurity. He¡¯d returned, saying the room was filled with women.

    ¡°What?¡± Oliver asked.

    ¡°They¡¯re all in lingerie. Zaisy was changing. We¡¯ll have to be quick.¡±

    ¡°The people who run this place are all armed to the teeth. If one of these women alerts them, we¡¯re probably dead.¡±

    Hunter didn¡¯t counter and turned back to the window. ¡°Well, maybe we can talk them into not screaming when we barge in and save her.¡±

    A single overhead light stained the room blue. The women turned, expressions ranging from frightened to disgusted, snapped to the two intruders. They wore scraps of silk and lace and huddled on cushions.

    Zaisy stood at the far side, clad in a bra and panties. She covered herself, and her face darkened.

    Hunter passed Oliver, raising both palms to show he wasn¡¯t brandishing a weapon.

    The women glared. One said, ¡°Ew. I¡¯ve fantasized about a man breaking in and taking me away, but not riffraff.¡±

    A girl with big eyes pointed. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with that one¡¯s face? Why¡¯s he wearing a mask?¡±

    Oliver ignored the question and cleared his throat. ¡°Zaisy, we¡¯re here to take you out of this place.¡±

    Zaisy now looked like she wanted to commit murder. ¡°Who are you?¡±

    Oliver took out her Memory Sphere, and its light threw shadows against the walls. It pulsed being so close to its owner. The blue gave way to white.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    The women flinched back, and one asked if it were a bomb, and then, ¡°Will it explode?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Hunter lied. ¡°If you don¡¯t all keep quiet and let us talk to Zaisy, we¡¯ll kill everyone.¡± He may not have been bluffing about the killing. He¡¯d restlessly toyed with his daggers since they arrived in the desert.

    When they got Zaisy into the far side of the room with the others as far away as they could squeeze together in the corner, Oliver dropped the sphere into her hand, and her eyes dilated. Then she raised the other hand and slapped him across the face. ¡°Where have you been?¡± She hugged him but stopped short of crying.

    He tried not to think about what she wore or how they were pressed together.

    Hunter winced. ¡°We were in another world and had no idea where you were. We just arrived.¡±

    She sniffed. ¡°Ever since I got here, I knew things were wrong, even if I couldn¡¯t remember.¡±

    Hunter gathered an armful of clothing and threw it to her. ¡°You looked angry a moment ago. Are you here for a reason? I take it you weren¡¯t kidnapped.¡±

    ¡°I pretended,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ve been following a Player with a nuke. He plans to detonate it in downtown Las Calas. He¡¯s stopped at every brothel on his way south. I¡¯m setting up a surprise.¡±

    Oliver couldn¡¯t picture her acting so bold in her home world. Was that what was happening to him, but in reverse? Was he reverting to the pathetic mess he¡¯d been because he was back in this retched world? He¡¯d thought he¡¯d grown, but what if it had all been for naught?

    ¡°Will still stop this Player,¡± Hunter said. ¡°But you don¡¯t have to do it alone. Come with us.¡± He led her to the window and boosted her up.

    Oliver followed, and they emerged onto the roof. Below, a dust devil meandered across the main road.

    Zaisy pulled a hood over her head when they¡¯d reached the ground, and soon they walked into the same bar they¡¯d broken her out of. She took a seat and stared at the unfamiliar faces.

    Elstina took her hand from across the table and said, ¡°I¡¯ve heard so much about you.¡±

    While the table went around introducing themselves, Oliver slipped out and waited for the bartender. He shook a handful of silver. ¡°I need quarters and a hundred bucks.¡±

    She popped open the register. ¡°Jeb says it¡¯s real, it¡¯s real, though I¡¯ve never seen anything like it.¡± She spilled all her quarters on the counter, held up a stack of fives and tens, and gave him a level look.

    They laid their respective currencies down at the same time and swapped.

    She closed the register. ¡°Have fun at the strip club.¡±

    Oliver waved his friends to join him, and they walked through the rear door to the bar¡¯s dusty parking lot. He entered the phone booth and tried to remember his uncle¡¯s number. At least he got a dial tone.

    Hunter leaned against a battered vending machine, arms folded and whistling. Halfdan and Sigrid crouched in the shade of a husk of a fifties pickup. Zaisy adjusted her large PJ bottoms. Saj fiddled with a dollar bill, holding it to the sun. Elstina scanned the deserted lots. Owen mentioned the dry air was good for his sword. Thalia had her menu open, looking at her stats.

    Oliver dialed and waited.

    A familiar voice answered. ¡°Who is this?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s me, Oliver.¡±

    There was a long silence. ¡°You¡¯ve been gone for months.¡±

    ¡°I know. You wouldn¡¯t believe me if I told you what happened. Can you pick me up in Willham?¡±

    ¡°What are you doing there? Never mind, I¡¯m getting my keys.¡±

    Oliver hung up the phone and stepped out. ¡°We have a ride. We should find a place to rest. It¡¯ll be a while.¡±

    They trod a few blocks, ignoring stares from passersby. They forced a broken door at an abandoned house behind a chain-link fence. The interior was dusty, with cracked walls and peeled wallpaper. The group lay down with arms and legs spread to feel cooler in the heat.

    Sleep overtook Oliver, and he fought phantom enemies with his swordstaff he couldn¡¯t swing. It banged against too-close walls. He ran behind Elstina, but she left him, saying he was too slow. Cities evaporated in mushroom clouds, and Coda drained the life of Credola, and he watched in despair.

    A cool breeze ran over his skin. A fly crawled on his cheek, and he swatted it away. He sat up and saw the last moment of the sunset. He¡¯d slept the whole day. Half his companions sat awake talking amongst themselves. ¡°I¡¯ll be right back. I have to meet my uncle at the bar.¡±

    He briskly walked the sidewalk.

    A pitbull followed him for a while and gave a few barks but peed on a trash can and headed down an alley.

    Uncle Brent sat in his restored classic car by the pay phone. He eyed him, mouth tightening. ¡°You join a cult?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s good to see you, too. We have to pick up my friends.¡±

    Brent only gruned.

    Oliver slid into the red bench seat and directed him to the abandoned house.

    When everyone came out, Brent looked at the motley garb¡ªleather doublets, cloaks, swords, axes, and gowns. ¡°What is going on?¡±

    Oliver rubbed the back of his neck. ¡°It¡¯s... complicated.¡±

    Everyone packed into the two bench seats. Even with two more people, the last car had twice the room. Zaisy turned around and pointed at a truck convoy. ¡°That¡¯s the Player. There¡¯s the nuke.¡±

 CH42 Road Rage

    The red, classic car eased behind a tall agave for cover. The blacktop between the car and the bar shone with the low sun. Neon signs flickered to life one by one, though half the letters were burned out around the small downtown.

    A half-dozen vehicles, plated with sheet metal, came to a halt. Men in tactical vests poured out and secured the area around the buildings. Having found no threat, they leaned on trucks, popped open beer cans, and milled around with rifles slung over their backs.

    A street light blinked on in the dusk and bathed the scene warmly. According to Zaisy, the Semi-truck at the center held the nuke. Its trailer was armored, and the wheels had spikes pointed outward. Anyone who tried to sideswipe the thing would be minced to pieces.

    Oliver stood with one hand on the car''s open door, ready to jump back in at any sign he¡¯d been spotted. If so, his uncle would have to punch the gas. Luckily, the convoy didn¡¯t look fast, but he had no idea if the car was quick enough to outrun the armored pickups.

    Four people exploded from the bar¡¯s side door and sprinted away. One was a woman from upstairs, wearing lingerie. Her thighs flexed as she strained. Another was Jeb, out of shape and falling behind.

    A man with a rifle bit into an apple, sunglasses tacking the four runners. He grabbed a grenade and pulled the pin with his teeth.

    Oliver knew the man was a Player. It was something about the grin and the perfectly cooked nade.

    The nade detonated directly in the path of those fleeing. The woman splattered, and Jeb dropped and let out a cry from a ruined throat. One got up, but the Player pulled a revolver and put a stop to it.

    Oliver wanted to throw everything he had at the Player. But even if he didn¡¯t create a dirty bomb in the process, if he left any alive, they had guns and would kill at least one or more of his friends. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±

    Hunter, Owen, Halfdan, and Oliver scrunched into the front bench seat. Behind, Sigrid, Elstina, Charity, Thalia, and Saj seemed to have more room, though there were five.

    Uncle Brent pulled the column shifter to D and rolled off a curb. The suspension was soft. It was like driving down the road on a living room couch. ¡°I think we should just warn the authorities. These guys are ruthless.¡±

    Oliver held awkwardly to his swordstaff, with the blade in the back window and the staff part bumping into the princess. ¡°Maybe, but we¡¯ll have to plan on stopping them ourselves.¡±

    His uncle looked at him. ¡°What¡¯s happened to you? Where¡¯d the confidence come from?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t feel confident at all.¡±

    ¡°How could you not be confident,¡± Hafldan said. ¡°You¡¯re the most dangerous man I know, and that¡¯s no small feat. You held back on them because you¡¯re seeking a better strategy.¡±

    Saj spoke from behind. ¡°No, I do believe I¡¯ve felt a waning spirit in Oliver. This happens to us all at every crossroads.¡±

    Uncle Brent adjusted the rearview mirror, illuminating his eyes. ¡°Not something too dissimilar happened to me. But I didn¡¯t think you had it in you to be a man, Oliver. It wouldn¡¯t have been your fault, but I see strength in you now.¡±

    The road neared a large reservoir with a dam on the far side. Along the bank, the husk of an airplane, its fuselage pocked by fire, lay in a derelict town with docks. From there, the road cut straight through the desert and into the foothills.

    Zaisy rolled the back window down, and a relatively cool air whooshed in, tossing her dark hair to the side to whip Charity. ¡°When we died fighting that man, I woke up here. I glimpsed a woman, all of white, fading away.¡±

    ¡°Eldrin, the scientist we met at Highside,¡± Oliver said. ¡°Calls them psychopomps. Mine¡¯s a white reaper.¡±

    ¡°Mine has wings and horns,¡± Hunter said.

    Oliver didn¡¯t have much to share with them. ¡°I don¡¯t know what they want other than mine made some kind of bet. I think, to them, NPCs and Players are entertainment.¡± He yawned as the engine hummed. ¡°Anyway, I can¡¯t blast the nuke without spreading radioactive material everywhere. What else can we do?¡±Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    ¡°We take it and bury it?¡± asked Saj.

    The uncle turned the wheel, steering the car around a pothole. ¡°If they¡¯re blowing up Las Calas¡ªand I get that, I¡¯ve wanted to level the place a time or two myself¡ªthey¡¯ll have to go through the mountains. It¡¯s two lanes, and if we drop a tree in their way, they¡¯ll be forced to stop. All we gotta do is find a rock on the precipice and give it a little nudge.¡±

    Halfdan nodded with approval. ¡°You sound like you¡¯ve done it before.¡±

    ¡°I''m quite, but forty years ago, and on the other side of the world, I¡¯ve set my fair share of ambushes.¡±

    Oliver rested a hand on the car door. ¡°You believe there¡¯s a nuke?¡±

    His uncle gave a short chuckle. ¡°I¡¯ve never known you to lie. You¡¯ve always been down to earth. If you say they¡¯ve got a bomb, I trust you.¡±

    They drove for hours, leaving the settlement behind until it became a few twinkles in a dark landscape. The road climbed and ran through cutouts in the land. Bushes were black against the moonlit grass. Ahead, it all turned dark where the forest started.

    His uncle pulled over at an outlook. ¡°Let¡¯s get some rest. Not much we can do in the dark.¡±

    The car started down the road before dawn.

    Oliver¡¯s eyes were heavy-lidded. He watched the yellow stripes pass and dozed again before a pink light filled the East.

    The forest surrounded them with large pine and a few girthy redwoods. The car pulled to the shoulder at a sideroad marked ¡°Crystal Cave 10.¡±

    ¡°We can set up here,¡± His uncle said. ¡°We got to get a tree down and loosen those boulders. It¡¯s not ideal, but I don¡¯t think we¡¯ll find anything better. Five more miles, and we¡¯d be heading down the other side.¡±

    Sigrid eyed the steep inclines. ¡°Those boulders?¡± She eyed a ridge of granite. ¡°It looks formidable. Oliver, could you knock it down.¡±

    That was an easy question. ¡°Yep.¡±

    His uncle pulled an axe from the trunk, giving it a practice swing into a stump.

    ¡°Why do you have an axe?¡± Oliver asked.

    ¡°Road rage. If some bastard comes at me with a bat or knife, I pull out the axe. Trust me, they get back in their car real fast. If they pull out a gun, well, I have other toys. Well, you better get chopping.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Oliver said. ¡°If we do it now, any car that comes along will call it in. Can you wait a few miles down the road and warn me that they¡¯re coming?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand. You won¡¯t have enough time.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll have plenty.¡±

    His uncle hesitated. ¡°Look, I trust you and all. But it¡¯s not adding up.¡±

    Halfdan pried the axe from the stump and hurled it end over end to thunk in the middle of a sapling thirty yards away. ¡°Yes, go. He can, and if he can¡¯t, I can.¡±

    ¡°That was a hell of a throw,¡± Uncle Brent said. He repeated himself in a lower voice, climbed into his car, and pulled a U-turn. He leaned out the window. ¡°If you see me flying like a bat out of hell, they¡¯re coming.¡± He hit the gas, and his tires chirped as they found traction.

    A little way up the hill, Oliver found a spot behind a double-trunked conifer. From there, he could strike the boulders and a tall tree to block the road. Unfortunately, he could still be seen with sharp eyes. ¡°Everyone, go uphill until you can¡¯t see the road.¡±

    They complied instead of arguing. Nobody could do anything until after he sent the boulders tumbling down to wipe out the convoy, and they knew it.

    He looked at every rise and dip in the landscape. The boulders'' path seemed predictable, but he walked it and ensured it was right. A small guardrail protected the other side of the road before it reached the sideroad to Crystal Cave. That¡¯s where he needed to stop them.

    If the convoy suffered little or no damage, the tree would still blockade them and give time for an escape.

    A red streak swarved around the bend below as he pondered all the scenarios. Already?

    His uncle slowed and shouted, ¡°The fuckers are right behind me.¡±

    Oliver watched the runes on his swordstaff glow. Why did he think something had changed? When he saw the trucks, he targeted the tree and loosed an Astral Lance. Bark exploded in a shower of splinters, and the pine cracked as it went down. It crashed onto the road and broke again near the top, leaning over the drop. It lay right where it needed to.

    Two men came out with rifles shouldered.

    One of the Players stepped out. This time, it was a guy who must have weighed in at four hundred pounds. ¡°I saw a flash. It¡¯s a weapon.¡±

    The other player appeared with a damn missile launcher over his shoulder.

    Oliver cut the earth under the granite boulders with Star Beam. There¡¯s no way they could miss that spell, so he ran.

    The boulders began a ponderous roll, the earth sliding down with them. Trees snapped like matchsticks.

    He bumped into his uncle, who had a handgun in two hands pointed to the ground. ¡°You should have driven away.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not running from a fight.¡±

    The Player hadn¡¯t taken cover but took the time to aim. The missile streaked up toward them.