《Unarmed and Unbroken》


 League Wars

    "Round 3, start!", the referee yelled.


    There I was in the octagon ring, facing my opponent. His once light skin tone was now replaced with red marks and bruises from our earlier exchanges... yet he still has that piercing gaze from his bald, angry visage. It''s sad to say that I was on the brink of exhaustion too.


    We walked up to the middle, exchanging one last glove tap before getting into our stances, both orthodox. Both of us pawed the air with small jabs, reading our striking ranges. My opponent''s name was Morris Kenny, a fighter known for his kickboxing background and nasty brazilian jiu-jitsu submissions.


    In the beginning of the round, I followed the strategy I used for the whole fight, keeping my range with by throwing left front teep kicks to his stomach and keeping him at bay with straight punches. This time however, as I threw my left teep, he caught my ankle by a downward parry of his left arm, causing me to turn to my right with an exposed back. I tried to move out of the way- but a heavy low kick hit my left hamstring, sending pain throughout my leg that caused me to buckle a bit... but I can''t show him that. I maintained my pokerface as best as I could, performing a stuttering step to circle to my right and reset.


    "What are you doing, Marcus!? You''re down two rounds and you only have three minutes left! Better fuckin'' finish it!", my coach yelled as both of us stood at the center, feinting and making reads. Fuck, I was down two!? I thought I was winning... I better think of something fast. Which mistakes does he usually make? Which habits can I exploit?


    My thoughts were halted by an incoming left high kick to my head which I blocked with both arms folded to the right which sent shockwaves through my arms. I can''t take more of those, unless I want my arms to break.


    I circle around with my footwork to regain my thoughts. One thing he likes to do is counter my left jab with a right leg kick... hence why my left leg was battered. I could- no, I''m going to fucking use that. If he wants to cripple me, then I will take his fucking consciousness with it.


    I take a wider stance, planting my left foot down as I curl my posture and turtle up into a high guard, protecting the sides of my face with my arms and hands. I then extend my left arm, feinting a jab and once I started to see him move, I played into a dangerous gamble.


    I leaned forward as I threw a right straight punch at the big bruise on his stomach, landing simultaneously with his low kick to my left thigh which caused that leg to buckle- FUCK!


    I grit my teeth to push through the pain as I saw him fold forward in slow motion... this is my opportunity! I then follow up with a sloppy, diagonal left hook that met his jaw and sent him turning to my right before I twisted my hips, throwing a right high kick, crashing my whole right shin to his face. The impact sounded disgusting, and the crowd erupted as my opponent was sent turning around and exposing his back to me.


    Adrenaline took over, and I found myself lunging and jumping onto his back, wrapping my left arm across his throat and clamping my right arm around my left hand as my legs wrapped around his torso, catching him in a rear naked choke with gravity sending us falling onto our backs. I squeezed with all of my might using my arms, squeezing his neck and blocking his carotid arteries, closing my eyes... until I felt someone forcefully prying away my grip. Upon opening my eyes, I saw that my opponent''s arms were already limp, and the referee broke through my hold to care for my opponent. I... won.


    "And tonight''s winner, through a submission at Round 3, now with 13 wins and 7 losses, Marcus "Demolidor" Pereira!", the announcer yelled.


    ...


    "Damn, it feels good to watch that clip over and over again.", I said to myself as I held my phone after watching my victory earlier this night. I swear, I could just lean back and pass out... wait, have I done my dailies? No...


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    I then limped to my PC set up nearby, yawning as I booted up League Wars and opened my character. Must... finish my daily quests.


    Today''s daily quests were easy to do, thankfully. Kill a dozen slime monsters, visit a vantage point in a jungle map, and participate in a world boss event. It should be easy with my badass, greatsword wielding warrior.


    As I moved to a plains map with plenty of slimes, I switched into a long bow because I was too tired for complex rotations. One thing I liked about League Wars is how you can change your skills with just a simple weapon change and have class-based utility skills to go along with it. However, certain weapons are locked into certain professions, and each profession has different skills with the weapon. For example, a warrior would fight up close with an axe at hand, but a ranger will throw them at mid-range instead... and a warrior cannot wield a scepter."


    I took care of those slimes in no time with a barrage of arrows from afar. As I teleported to the jungle map and ride my dragon mount, I glanced at my mailbox which had a new notification. It was a mail from one of the GMs... what?


    I hit the auto-walk button as I read the letter. ""Greetings, DemolidorXLV! We have reviewed the earlier survey results and we found your answer, "MMA Fighter" the most intriguing. We''ll be hearing from you soon." - [GM] Anders", the letter said. Right, the game did send out surveys asking for our jobs for some reason. I wonder how they would hear from me. Should I mail them back?


    I then closed the mail menu for now as my dragon mount docked on a sturdy branch protruding from a giant tree. Upon activating the vantage point, the game showed me a beautiful overhead view of my location. Okay, one last quest.


    I checked the world boss schedule and saw that "The Great Jungle Worm", a massive carnivorous green worm was currently terrorizing a forest map. I teleported to the nearest waypoint and rode my raptor mount to the location. I see the world boss at 25% health but... I can feel myself nodding off to sleep. Must... reach... the boss...


    I forced myself to dash into the heat of battle and spin around with my greatsword of destruction, dealing a whirlwind of deathly cuts upon the world boss and slowly dwindling its HP down until I can feel my eyelids being too heavy. I already did damage, so I can take a short nap now, yeah...


    ...


    I was jolted awake by the sound of something loud. I glance to my left and saw that it was a boulder demolishing the city''s gates and sending a row of soldiers back. Screams of anguish filled my ears and I glance up as I saw a flaming vase falling onto the ground, spreading fire to nearby houses. ...What the fuck just happened?


    I ran to the sides for some cover as I see four legged creatures flood the gates and trample over the soldiers- are those centaurs!? ...Isn''t this the tutorial area for humans? Am I really in the game right now! Questions upon questions flooded my mind, but I saw a weapon rack in the corner of my eyes so I approached that. I must take something!


    I attempted to brandish a spear until my hand was torn away from it by an invisible force. In my sight, an error message in red appear, stating "Weapon unusable by current profession!". I tried taking a greatsword instead, but the same error occured. In a panic, I tried the axe, the sword, a staff, scepter, pistol, rifle, mace, and warhammer... but the same message appeared over and over again.


    "Weapon unusable by current profession!", the error message stated again.


    "Then what the fuck is my profession!?", I yelled in frustration. Shortly after, another message box appeared which stated: "Profession: Brawler (MMA Fighter)". ...Are you fucking serious?


    Before I can fully comprehend the situation, I turned around as I heard galloping and saw that a centaur warrior, a beast with an upper half of a human and lower half of a horse was approaching me, initiating combat.


    As I raised my arms to guard, it swiped at me with its long spear and instantly, I felt a hot and searing pain on my stomach. To my horror, my own blood was gushing out, and as I looked up at it again, I was met by a merciless thrust to my throat, leaving me bleeding like a pig as I fell to my sides, desperately gasping for air. The heat from my wounds soon turned cold... unbelievably cold, and everything around me darkened. Have I... died?


    Another message box appeared, which said "You have perished." with a choice that says "Return to previous checkpoint".

 Defense of Graywatch

    I reached out into the dark abyss and tapped the "Retry from Checkpoint" button that lingered. Within an instant, every color, sound, and scent returned. I was back there again, woken up by the sound of a catapult launching a rock into the walls. Seems like everything has been happening the way they did last time.


    I then shake my head and ran further into the city. Every house I passed through were either burning or crushed by boulders. Wasn''t I supposed to be a fabled commander in the game? Why am I fleeing like a little rat right now?


    "Help us...", a faint voice said that snapped me out of those thoughts. Upon further tracking, it came from a house with a crushed roof and with debris flooding the doorway.


    "Hello!? Are you still there? I''m here to help!", I said as I began lifting the debris away from the doorway. As I slowly cleared the area, a thought lingered and clawed at the back of my mind. What if... I die again? Is this my last chance?


    "Are you two okay?", I asked frantically as I eventually rescued a mother and a child. All they could do was nod from the shock. I have to at least save these people...


    Shouts echoed from afar again. The centaurs have probably broken in. With haste, I grabbed both their wrists and made a reckless run for it. Where to? I don''t know- but I''ll figure it out.


    From the corner of my eye, I see a soldier rallying the people. We''re almost there, but the sound of galloping was getting closer. At this rate, it''ll catch up to us! Not if I...


    "Go! Run towards that man and DO NOT LOOK BACK!", I yelled as I pointed towards the soldier, before I turned around with a grim expression, preparing to face death again. At least... I saved a life.


    I remember that arrogant mug. This is the same monster that killed me! I got into my orthodox stance, standing left foot forward and right foot behind with my fists raised, focusing on his wielded spear.


    As he began to swing his spear, I pushed off my front foot, moving backward and avoiding the deadly edge before I bent my legs as I moved my torso, twisting slightly as I slipped my head to the left away from the incoming thrust, then weaved under with head movement before I hopped away to maintain extra distance and reset.


    This shit is so fucking unfair! With that spear of his, he can attack me from far away without consequences. Even if I close the distance, I don''t think I can wrestle him with those horse legs of his. With thighs as big as a horse''s, leg kicks to the thigh are a fruitless endeavor...


    The centaur then stood on his hind legs, signaling a charge so I used my footwork to step to the right before pivoting off of my right foot, turning away from the centaur''s charge like a graceful matador. So he has that thrust, swipe, and charge attack... but how can I deal with that weapon? Think, Marcus, think!


    My mind recalls to a seminar that happened at our MMA gym. It was from a weapons expert. He said that when it comes to facing an armed assailant, there is no "self-defense". Just running away wasn''t going to cut it either, if the assailant is determined to kill. You must quickly cripple or seriously injure the opponent in a few moves before running or ending the battle. Those knees of his seems like a viable target.


    I then take a wider stance, tucking in my elbows to guard my stomach and sticking my fists to my cheeks, imitating Mike Tyson as I begin bobbing my head from side to side. He who controls the distance will win this fight.


    I begin to push off my right foot, dashing diagonally as I leaned towards the left, before I pushed off my feet into another backstep, avoiding that spear swing of his. As the centaur retracts his arms for a stab, I pushed off my right foot again, dashing diagonally to the left as I slipped my head to the left, avoiding the stab to my head before I pivoted with my left foot, turning my body away to the far edges of his vision and I performed a lateral shuffle with my footwork, now disappearing from his line of sight. The centaur now had no choice but to trot and turn to face me... that will be my opening. As the centaur turns, I waited patiently for the right timing...


    "Shh!", I exhaled as I threw a right oblique kick, stomping down HARD on one of his front legs with my tilted right foot, just above the knee which caused a sickening cracking sound as his knee hyperextended and folded inward.


    "AARGH!", the centaur cried out in pain. Just before he swung wildly with the spear, I quickly mounted his lower body like a horse, further stressing and folding his knee joint. He tried to trash wildly, but my left arm quickly wrapped around his neck like an anaconda, with my left hand holding onto my right bicep as my right hand snaked its way onto the back of his head, pressing down and squeezing at his neck in a rear naked choke. All he could do was grip my forearms as each second passes... until his body goes limp and I fall down with him. He''ll be out cold for a good minute... but what if he returns and kills the civilians? I have the opportunity to finish him... but isn''t killing bad? Should I spare him? But he killed me once...


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    I take a deep breath to clear my thoughts. Focus on the motion, eliminate the threat.


    "Focus on the motion, eliminate the threat...", I chanted as I gripped one of its horns and grabbed its goatie... before I exhaled as I tugged, twisting and snapping his neck in one quick motion. I killed a centaur.


    "...MY BROTHERS, KILL THAT HUMAN!", a centaur shouted from afar. Behind him was a band of centaurs galloping forward before tugging on their bowstrings and aiming their arrows upward. This is probably it. I will most likely be executed by those arrows. Time seemed to slow down as they release the arrows and I watched a volley of them now aiming to rain down on my body like meteors. If I die again... will I respawn, or will I finally die for real?


    Suddenly, a shadow was casted over my eyes as a figure leaped over me and the dead centaur, standing steadfast with a shield raised. The figure was clad in full plate armor and chanted a silent prayer, conjuring a blue ethereal field around us. Arrows seemed to bounce off of what looked like a force field and the field remained as the armored person stood up to face me. This must be a Guardian. Is this character a player?


    "Off your back now.", the figure asked beneath her steel plated helmet, her voice as sweet as honey, muffled by steel. The guardian then offered a hand and helped me get back onto my feet.


    "Knights of the Six, rally to me!", another person yelled. His voice sounded familiar. I turned to him and my suspicions were confirmed. It was Alfonse Reiner, the humans'' champion from the original game, and the guy you faced the tutorial with. Alfonse, wielding his special sword Lightbringer, along with the knights and the guardian charged towards the wave of centaurs and made quick work of them. The guardian was a curious sight though, and as I suspected, she can only use the basic mace and shield skills. Only after the tutorial were we allowed to use other utility skills.


    The human army then successfully pushed the centaurs back. If memory serves me right, a centaur priest will gallop into the battlefield and summon a gigantic earth elemental to crush the city, and the players are supposed to beat it to end the tutorial. Am I coming with? Hell no! The fuck are my punches going to do against a big ass stone monster!?


    ...but it wouldn''t sit right with me just to stay still. I have to act... what if there were more citizens to be saved? And that''s what I did next. I ran, scoured the whole city calling out to survivors, lifted debris and redirected them to the evacuation site. The survivors were mostly injured men and women, children, and some... farm animals?


    As I was saving them though, on the other side of the city, I can see the earth elemental, a creature of rocks, rubble and roots held together by magic. Now that I''m done evacuating the civilians, maybe I can score some participation points for it- assuming the game mechanics still work. I looked around and grab a fist-sized rock before I ran towards the other end of the city, trying to keep my eyes off of the centaur corpses which looked oddly realistic.


    I got closer to the scene, and saw Alfonse, the guardian, and the knights hacking, slashing, and bashing at the elemental. At this rate, it''s probably on its last stand. I then extended my left arm into the sky, trying to estimate the distance before I threw the rock with all of my might, watching the rock soar through the skies and slowly descend... until it landed and merely tapped one of the elemental''s stony hands. Yeah, nice participation buddy, shit did nothing!


    Suddenly, I can feel a wave of pressure internally. It''s as if the action triggered my fight or flight instincts... did I just initiate combat with that thing? A few seconds later though, the pressure lifted as the elemental looked up, screaming as a burst of light began to exit from its body, before it released a shockwave that knocked away everyone that was too close, good thing I''m so far away. So that''s how it looked like behind the scenes. I ran up to the scene, seeing Alfonse and his soldiers recover, but the guardian was still knocked out. I suppose I can''t just leave her here... so with great struggle, I hoisted the armored lady over onto my shoulders and began my long walk towards the evacuation camp.


    "Medic?", I called out as I entered the camp, looking for a tent. Upon talking to the few survivors that recognized me, they then led me to the medic camp where I dropped the armored guardian onto a spare bed and caught my breath shortly after.


    "Another casualty?", the medic asked, who looked more of a hooded priest than a doctor. She lifted up the guardian''s helmet and revealed a lady as fair as them all, with flowing blonde hair and an expression as peaceful as sleeping beauty''s. Even I can''t help but spare a few seconds to admire her beauty. The medic- or healer then opened her palms in front of her, coating the sleeping guardian with a ray of golden light as she heals her.


    "She seems to be alive, thank goodness. And you? Are you injured?", the healer asked.


    "I''m good. Hella sore everywhere, though. I could use a bed to rest.", I responded. The healer then gestured to a free medical bed at the other side of the tent. I went to lay down on it. Now that the tutorial is over... I''ll probably wake up from my dream now, right? It was fun while it lasted.


    As I shut my eyes close, everything quiets down... until another message pops up from the dark.


    "Tutorial Completed. New title earned: Hero of Graywatch"

 MMA vs Monsters

    I sit up, rubbing my eyes and yawning as I rise up from the bed. Have I stopped dreaming already?


    I looked in front of me, seeing a ray of sunlight illuminate the tent''s entrance. Tent... I''m still here!? That reminds me, I did see that message prompt before I fully passed out... Hero of Graywatch? I barely did anything, though...


    I step outside of the tent to see that the reparations for the city of Graywatch are already going. There were wagons full of wood and building materials carried by both ox and horses, and foremen directing the construction. I thought all of this will stop after the tutorial... wait...


    I can''t help but snicker as I remember something. It used to be an inside joke that only after you hit the max level, level 80, is the tutorial over. There was still so much more to learn and to explore. I suppose... I''ll get to leveling my character, though I don''t see any floating icons on my vision like in those games. What should I do, though? Should I say some magic keyword like "Status" from one of those manhwas?


    "Sta-"


    As I was speaking, I was interrupted by a commotion. A crowd ganging up on an already beaten person tied to a wooden pole. There are several burnt poles around them. I then walked up to hear more of their rabble.


    "LET ME GO, YOU NPCs!", the person shouted, his face bruised up and swollen with bits of it covered by his messy, brown hair. He seemed to wear some leather armor, and there was a longbow and quiver on the ground beside his feet. Is he a Hunter class player?


    "Heretic!"


    "Lich spawn! Burn him!"


    "Burn him to the ground!"


    The crowd really hates this person... but why? He did call him NPCs... and lich spawn? Is this person undead?


    "Excuse me.", I said politely to an older man beside me wearing a cast on his broken arm.


    "The hell do you want... wait wait wait... is that you?", the older man asked before he looked at me from top to bottom. A sense of dread churned in my stomach... if he discovers that I am a player, will I be tied up and beaten as well?


    "...Who are you again?", I asked, maintaining a poker face. It''s been a habit of mine, since I can''t really let my opponents know when I''m hurt in my matches.


    "Body of an athlete, tattoos, swollen ears and a piercing gaze... you''re the hero of Graywatch.", the older man said. His dour expression can''t help but smirk a little at the mention of the title. Reminds me of my coach for some reason...


    "I''m no hero. What did he do?", I asked as I glanced at the angry crowd throwing random stuff at the tied player.


    "Bah! He''s one of those god damned "players", the old man stated before spitting at the ground.


    "Player? What''s that?", I asked, feigning cluelessness.


    "They''re madmen or madwomen proclaiming they''re something more... than us. They''re all bad omens, I say! Corrupted by the madness of the Dragon Lich!", the old man said. The Dragon Lich was one of the main antagonists of the game. He haunts the entire continent with his undead army, lifeless husks of rotting bodies controlled by a hivemind and spreading the plague wherever they went.


    "...I see. Has there ever been a case of these players going-"


    "HE''S A PLAYER TOO! THAT GUY WITH TATTOOS!", the hunter player tied onto the pole shouted. My heart stopped for a second... but my face didn''t show it. As I turned towards the hunter player, the crowd faced me as well.


    "The Hero of Graywatch? No way..."


    "...but he''s saved so many lives! How could he be corrupted by the Lich..."


    "I don''t believe it! He saved my sister... but what if it was all an act..."


    Gossip began to fill the area, but I remained silent with a stoic face, trying to figure out my next move. Should I defend myself or this player? I would hate to leave the fellow player alone like this, yet he sold me out so easily...


    One person approached me, a man with a grim expression and a bloody bandage covering his left eye, carrying an already lit torch.


    "If you really are our Hero, then prove it. Burn this dragon minion."


    I received the torch and the people cleared a path for me. I can see the horror in the hunter player''s eyes. Should I still try and save him? Maybe I could knock him out and take it somewhere safer? Yeah, that could work-


    "Please! Help me- you''re a player too, right!? If we work together, we can kill these stupid NPCs and it won''t make a difference!", the player shouted in a desperate voice. I took a few steps forward.


    Is... this what being a player was? Uttering those words, treating these people like nothing? ...Maybe these people are telling the truth, that he''s someone corrupted by the Dragon Lich?


    "What do you think?", I ask firmly as I hold the torch close to the ropes tied around the wooden pole, some smoke floating from it. The hunter player shrieks in horror and tries to trash violently, but the tight bondage prevented him.


    "I TAKE IT BACK! YOU''RE NOT A PLAYER, BUT PLEASE SAVE ME! YOU''RE A HERO, RIGHT!?", the hunter player pleaded. I lowered my gaze. If I save him here, the townspeople will have my head... and if I let this guy free, based on his words, I wonder what kind of messed up shit he''ll do for revenge. I can''t stand for that.


    "I''m no player..."


    I press the torch against the ropes, with them quickly engulfing in fire, slowly spreading up the wooden pole. I took a few steps backward as the hunter screams.


    "...and I''m no hero either."


    I... watched him get consumed by flames as the crowd cheer from me. I feel sick to my stomach with what I have done... but I must not show it. The screams, the smell, the sight... all burned to my memory. I... I had to let him die to save myself. That''s... very "player" of me, huh?


    Soon, the people of Graywatch returned to their business like it was nothing. I guess I just have to live with that?


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    I take a deep breath to clear my thoughts and I exited out of Graywatch and into a stone road that led further down south. The scenery is exactly like how I remember it. A wooden bridge to my right, stables to my left, and an archery range in front. The only thing missing was other players hanging around by the entrance and showing newer players their cool and flashy raid gear and collectibles. That reminds me... do I still have my skins and emotes? I doubt it...


    I then approached a person standing at the cross road of the paths who was peering further down the hills with his spyglass. He was wearing a navy blue uniform top with brown trousers and black boots. He looks too formal for a scout, though. Scouts were used to reveal sections of the map and shows people that can be helped.


    "Hey. What do you see in that spyglass?", I asked in a curious tone.


    "Hello there, citizen! I am an officer from Coridian Explorer League.", the scout said. Uhh, okay, I asked for that, sure.


    "I see. What are you doing here?"


    "Well, after the attacks on Graywatch, we''re here to make sure if other places were ravaged by the centaur, to update our maps and secure our waypoints.


    "I see... maps? Waypoints?", I asked, feigning cluelessness once more.


    The explorer then began to explain stuff I already knew. The old game had a map completion system where you get rewarded for full exploration of maps. Waypoints are like checkpoints on each map where you can use to teleport to, for a small fee. Each map you complete, you get special gear and a personal mail message from the explorer league.


    "You seem like you would be a great explorer! Here, why don''t you take this?" The explorer then hands me a compass and a blank map. He then explains that the blank map is enchanted, and automatically fills up the more I explore. The compass is drawn to high essences of magic and points towards nearby areas of interests, vantage points, and people needing help.


    "Now that we have that out of the way..." The explorer then points towards the bridge.


    "Agriculture has been the backbone of Corrleon, and our fishermen and farmers have been struggling from centaur raids and bandit attacks. The miners are also experiencing earth elemental outbreaks and kobold infestations..."


    The empty map then begins to glow, and golden hearts formed in nearby areas. These golden hearts are essentially favor quests, and each participation you do fills it up.


    "Now don''t just stand there, help them, soon-to-be explorer!", the scout said enthusiastically before he returns to using his spyglass. I nod and crossed the bridge before making a turn and eventually reaching a farm.


    I glance up at a curious sight. There were three pillars within a field, and on top of them were rotating black kettles which sprinkled water onto the crops. To this day, I still don''t get how that works, but that is not my purpose here. I walk up to the farm to an old lady wearing overalls and gloves, looking troubled. As I walk up to her, the compass on my hand vibrated, and the map seemed to register a waypoint.


    "Hello, ma''am. I''m here to help."


    The old woman then glanced up, and her look of despair soon turned into delight.


    "Well, well! If it ain''t the Hero of Graywatch! Won''t you be a sweetie and help old Annie in her farm?", she says as she grasps my calloused hands, begging for a favor. I can''t help but chuckle at a realization.


    "Sure, madam. What can I do?"


    Annie then instructed me how to perform farm duties. From watering her plants, slathering her "special fertilizer" onto her withering cornstalks, entertaining her cows and scooping up their dungs, and taking care of the occasional bandit or wurm. It''s kind of funny how you go as a war hero from the tutorial and back to doing menial tasks like scooping up horse shit in a barn.


    So I did just that, watering her crops and slathering the fertilizer onto the withered corn. I can tell that my golden heart was slowly filling up through the compass, until I felt vibrations from the ground. Just a few feet away from me, a "wurm" emerged, a giant worm with spiraling teeth that was attacking the livestock.


    "Hero! Take care of it, please!", Annie shouted.


    "You got it, boss!"


    I then ran up to the disgusting wurm monster, before hurling a rock to catch its attention. It turned and screeched at me, with some of its acidic saliva landing on my torso and burning my skin a bit... but that shit doesn''t faze me. Here I am, in a situation I''ve been looking forward to all my life. How will MMA fare against a monster?


    Predicting its attack, I push off my feet to lean back as I performed a backstep, narrowly avoiding a lunging bite from the beast. As the wurm retracts its neck to stand up, I pushed off my feet, charging forth with my fists raised, snapping its head back with a stiff left jab I land on its neck. Its body felt squishy... and it seems like if I keep targeting it at the neck down, I can stop its lunging attacks.


    I then take a boxer''s approach, curving my posture as I spread my legs in a wider stance. With each lunge the worm attempts, I counter with a left jab and a right straight punch at the neck, sending its head flying back and interrupting the attack. What about kicks?


    I push off my legs to perform backsteps, luring it in for another lunge and as it did, I time a left hook counter at its neck, sending its head flying to the right. The punch put me in the perfect position to follow through, with me pushing off the ground with my feet as I rotate my hips and torso to the left while my left arm folds upward to guard my head and right arm drags across the air to the right, twisting myself into a POWERFUL roundhouse kick, my right shin ramming hard onto its squishy body. I can see the worm vomit a mixture of blood and green saliva... I should finish this.


    I reset back into my orthodox stance before I leaned forward, kneeling onto my left knee before I stepped my right foot forward, lunging into a double leg takedown entry, with me wrapping my arms around the slimy wurm. I then grip my right wrist with my left hand before I press my elbows together onto the wurm and I stood on my toes, leaning backward as I lift the worm into the air into a suplex, twisting my torso mid-maneuver and slamming the wurm to the ground while securing a side control. The impact caused the wurm to vomit whatever blood, insides, and acid it had remaining in its body before it drops dead.


    "Oh my... aren''t you a strong and handsome fella?", Annie said in an almost sultry tone. She''s probably just complimenting me so I can do the rest of her farm work... and it''s working.


    I stood up, exhausted and slimy from the scuffle... catching my breath until Annie yelled.


    "Bandits! Help!"


    My eyes quickly flicked to the gang of bandits lifting up crates of goods from her barn. Without thinking, I ran forward, still feeling like superman from the earlier bout until I halted from my tracks as a bandit stands in front of me. He wore rugged leather armor, a red bandana across his face with white patterns that looked like shark teeth, and a dagger wielded on his right hand.


    "Easy there, mate. You better stop unless you want to fuckin'' die.", the bandit warned. I just killed a fuckin'' monster! Who the fuck does this guy think he is? I''m invincible!


    I raise my hands as I entered my orthodox MMA stance, left foot forward and right foot behind with my hands raised.


    "Now this will be fun~", the bandit remarked. The two of us then circled around each other. His main threat is that dagger... if I secure wrist control, he''ll be nothing.


    I pushed forth with my feet, dashing in and faking a left jab, making him flinch before I grip his right wrist with my left hand, holding it firm as I lowered it.


    "...Are you fucking dumb?", the bandit taunted.


    Suddenly, I felt a hot searing pain on my wrist that increased exponentially. I glanced at my left hand, and the bandit bastard stabbed through my left wrist just by lifting his right wrist!


    The bandit yanks his right arm free from my grasp before he puts the knife into his left hand and he grips my left wrist with his right... before stabbing me in the stomach two, three, four times. I couldn''t keep count as I vomit blood while feeling the searing hot pain in my sides and stomach. Am I... dying again? Just that easily!?


    I tuck my chin before pushing off my feet with whatever strength I have left, headbutting upwards and crushing the bandit''s nose though his bandana with my forehead.


    "ARGH- FUCK-"


    I then put my right arm over his left shoulder as I lean forward and trip his ankles with my right foot in a sloppy takedown, bringing the both of us to the ground. If... I''m really dying... then...


    I''LL TAKE YOU TO HELL WITH ME!


    I open my mouth wide as I see his neck... before I bit at his carotid vein hard like an animal, gnawing and tearing off the flesh despite his screams. I lose my strength quickly afterwards, and then the hot pain turned cold... evergrowing cold, and darkness fills my vision.


    I have died.

 No More Half-Measures

    The sound of an oar rowing through waters can be heard within the pitch black darkness.


    "Well, well, well. What do we have here?", a raspy voice said. Shortly after, an astral blue orb lights up at the middle of the room, illuminating a robed figure who red eyes flaring from underneath. The light reflected off of a curved scythe''s blade.


    "Such an unyielding soul. Even in death, you fight to exist. You would be so delicious..."


    "...but today is not your time."


    "Rise."


    The blue flame flickers and glows as if it was talking to the hooded figure.


    "You have died, but you may be resurrected... for a price. You may sacrifice your body, your memory, or your peace of mind."


    Silence ensued as the soul was deciding its price... until it flickered twice.


    "I see.", the robed figure said, before reaching forward and grasping the blue flame with its skeletal hand. He then tugged onto the blue flame, pulling what looked like white, transparent strings from it before he opens his palms upward and condenses the string into a short, rectangular screen.


    Inside the screen, a young boy can be seen in a workshop, tinkering with a motorcycle with his father. The boy then rides onto the motorcycle, and once they finally get it started and running, the boy and his father looked at each other with delight before laughing and sharing a happy moment together. The scene loops again, before a skeletal head opens its mouth and consumes it.


    "That was delicious... but try not to die again, will you?", the robed figure said before he begins to row away with his boat. Shortly after, the blue flame begins to expand, lighting up the whole room until...


    ...


    I opened my eyes before I sat upward, gasping for air as I clutched my stomach. My wounds! They''re... not here? I looked down to see my abs, but there were no scars either. Same with my wrist. It''s as if nothing happened at all... was it all just a dream? I''m in the same tent...


    ...Yet I feel a tear flow down my cheek. Somehow, I can''t stop thinking about my father... but why? I''m sure he''s okay, but why do I feel... incomplete? I feel my heart sink... but why? Why!? I just lost something important, I know it!


    ...I''m ashamed to admit, but I spent a few minutes sobbing in the tent. I really miss my father. I want to go back home... why the hell am I even here? I just wanted to have fun! I don''t want to die! What did I do to deserve this? I''m... I''m...


    "...pathetic.", I whisper to myself before wiping away my tears. I know I shouldn''t be a victim here. I''m done moping around... I... I have to think. I should focus on hitting level 80 first, maybe then, I''ll be able to go back...


    I clear my thoughts by taking a deep breath before recalling what I can remember. Am I in a time loop again? Will the day start the same way as last time? There was the player tied to a pole, then there was the scout, and there was the farm where I got killed by the bandits. What could I have done better? How could I have avoided my death?


    Maybe if I didn''t go for wrist control, I would have avoided that wrist stab, but the bandit can switch grips so seamlessly that he''ll just stab me in other places of my body. If only I had protection... wait- that''s right, why didn''t I try to wear armor?


    I then exit the tent, expecting a commotion... but no? Everyone was already back to their businesses, and there were three wooden poles burnt on the side. A haunting reminder of my actions... but I shake my head and shrug it off. I jogged down the road and into the previous crossroads, where I talked with the scout peering through his spyglass.


    It was the same dialogue with the scout, with him introducing which areas need help and giving me a map and a compass. So... does that mean that events with NPCs repeat while events with players cannot repeat? What if they had the same fate as me, suddenly sucked in a video game and cannot get out... and I killed them? Let''s... not think about that right now.


    I march towards the bridge and lean onto the railing as I collect my thoughts. How will I get armor? Last I remember, gear can drop from monster kills, quest rewards, shops, and crafting. Let''s see if I have some in my inventory...


    I must have looked like a madman to the people passing through. I was testing all sorts of keywords and such, and I did manage to open some menus from the original game. It was inventory, hero status, character build, training, and crafting. Everything was mostly the same... except that I don''t have bags to increase my inventory slots, and that character build and training is locked. I should level up further.


    Looking back now, fighting monsters isn''t the only source of experience in this game. Maybe I don''t have to rely on violence all the time. Ain''t it funny? A brawler avoiding fights for survival?


    I then slap my face with both hands to focus up. I don''t give a shit. I will get stronger, no matter how long it takes. That old farm isn''t going anywhere... and I will take no more half-measures. I will play to win.


    I returned back to the ruins of Graywatch where everyone was focused on rebuilding. I should help out too. I looked around for someone barking orders, and it was an older man with a white bandana, chestnut beard with a gruff expression and a cast on his arm... isn''t he the same person from last time?


    "Excuse me, are you the foreman?", I asked.


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    The foreman looked at me from head to toe, his gaze lingering on my eyes.


    "Hero of Graywatch. What the hell do you want?", he asks with a snarl. That mug pissed me off, but I ain''t here for that.


    "I''m no hero. I''d rather you call me Marcus instead.", I replied to which he simply nods.


    The two of us then got into talking. Looks like most of the houses were either burnt or destroyed from the aftermath of the invasion. The fields in the outskirts were trampled too. I offered to help as a worker, and he seemed to pause for a few seconds before smirking.


    "Well get to fuckin'' work, kid!"


    The rest of my day went by like a breeze. It was full of hard labor. I was like a fuckin'' super mule, carrying planks of wood, sacks of cement, and buckets of water across the settlement. I also helped in demolishing walls with a sledgehammer, and re-tilling the soil with a hoe. By the end of the day, my body had aches everywhere, and my hands were splintered and blistered... but at least I got paid three silver coins for a day.


    I followed the rest of the laborers to a run-down inn where we bought chicken stew and bread for 50 copper coins. It tasted like a normal chicken stew... but there''s something else. Like... umami? While no one was looking, I checked my status as I ate the stew, and I was right. The food gave me a small buff to "vitality" and "stamina regeneration". If I wanted to maximize my chances of survival, I should get into cooking too. somewhere down the road. After a few rounds of drinks with the rest of my co-workers, I rented myself a small room for 50 copper coins and rested.


    As the next few days passed, I found myself having a routine. During early mornings, I would jog laps around Greywatch with shadowboxing rounds in-between. After I get myself some breakfast, I spent my morning ''til afternoon doing hard labor with construction, paving roads, and rebuilding fields. I even picked up a few carpentry lessons and farming lessons from there. At night, I practiced Boxing and Muay Thai combinations and drills by myself through a makeshift punching bag I tied up to a nearby tree. I wish I had somebody train grappling with, though.


    "You sure you aren''t tired, kid? You''ve been runnin'' ''round a lot and helpin'' lots. Take a damn break, will you?", the foreman said as I hoist another set of planks on my shoulder.


    "Nah. This is easy work, old man.", I said confidently, before hauling building materials again.


    After my first week of working, conversing, and training, I''ve found a few things I can use to my leverage. While all of this field and construction work does not increase my experience bar, I''ve found that they instead increase my attributes instead. My Strength and Endurance has increased a bit, and I can really feel the difference in the little things I do. I can hit harder, carry heavier stuff, and can do them for longer.


    I also discovered that just like in real life, our diet is very important. From what I''ve heard, food is filled with "magic" here, which explains the "umami" taste I''ve been having, and how I can quickly recover from training and working just by eating right regardless of sleep. I''ve found that protein sources like meat give me health related bonuses while carbohydrate sources like potatoes give me stamina related bonuses... but I have yet to find out what fats, vegetables, and lipids offer me since they are so damn expensive here.


    Unfortunately, this routine couldn''t hold on for long. One early morning, us laborers were rounded up by the foreman.


    "We''re runnin'' low on materials, and the "Knights of the Six" aren''t sendin'' any our way. I say we get our own shit! We''ll show ''em that people of Graywatch don''t need help!", the foreman announced, followed by the cheers of the laborers. He then elaborated on a plan to enter a nearby forest to chop wood, mine ore and stone deposits, and gather herbs and plants along the way. Sounds simple on paper, but these forests were teaming with slime, wolf, and other monsters... have I prepared enough to face them myself? With the money I earned, I should have enough for a full set of armor, so I headed to the local general goods store.


    "Welcome to the Graywatch General Goods store, my friend!", the merchant greeted. He seemed to wear a blue tunic trimmed with gold with the pants and brown boots to match. He''s awfully lucky for this shop to survive. I walked up to the display, staring at each piece of armor for a bit as I inspect them. As a player, I seem to have an innate "appraisal" skill, where I can check the equipments'' stats and quality.


    As expected, everything here is a piece of shit common tier gear, and barely a rare tier gear in here... but one fact caught my eye. Why can I equip them all? Usually warriors can only wear plated armor and not mage robes nor leather armor. Is it because I''m a "Brawler"?


    I took my time to carry the common tier set of full plate armor to his desk. My appraisal skill tells me that the value of this set is around 8 silver coins, so I should have some left overs.


    "I see that you have a good eye for equipment! These came from the capital city itself! That would be... 45 silver coins.", the merchant said with a grin.


    "...The fuck?", I blurted out of shock, to which the merchant raised a brow at.


    "Is there a problem, my good sir? I assure you, this set of plate armor is the finest we have in our shop, and that it will protect you against the Dragon Lich himself!", the merchant said. This motherfucker is ripping me off!


    I then reach past the counter and grip his collar with both of my hands, pulling the most intimidating face I could make.


    "Why the fuck are you ripping me off?", I asked with a snarl.


    "G-get your hands off of me, you savage! I give you a fair price, and this is what I get!? What, the Hero of Graywatch thing was a lie all along!?", the merchant said in a panicked tone. I can see a drop of sweat fall from his forehead... yet he refuses to drop the price. Is he that desperate? To be fair, the whole city was just destroyed... but fuck this guy.


    I reluctantly release his collar from my grip.


    "What can I get with 10 silver coins, then?", I asked with a glare. The merchant adjusts his shirt before he paces around as he returns everything that I grabbed and came back with another set of piss poor gear. A pair of metal gauntlets, metal shin plated boots, and a set of fur armor was all he could offer.


    "There, and I am even generous enough to give you this at a discounted rate, after what you have done!"


    I used my appraisal skill, and deduced that this gear amounts to 4 silver coins of value. The system seems to give a much, much lower price than retail. Seems like bartering is a skill I need to learn too, if I want a fair price.


    With a sigh of disappointment, I take the gear for 10 silver coins. A week''s worth of wages... but this is better than being defenseless. I put the gear on and move around before I exit. These gauntlets and greaves were indeed heavy, but I can manage with all the hard labor I''ve been doing. Just as I left the shop, I can hear the merchant shout "Next time, you don''t like how I price ''em, go make ''em yourself, you punk!"


    ...Yeah, sure. Just you fuckin'' wait, I''ll make better gear myself when I come back from this gathering trip. I made a quick stop to the local inn to buy chicken soup and bread to get myself stamina and health buffs before I regrouped with the people at the city center.


    Us laborers were equipped with a set of gathering tools, which were an axe, a pickaxe, a sickle, and a hammer while there are hunters escorting us. A few oxen mounts were brought along too to carry our gathered goods. Once everything was ready, the foreman gave his signal and soon, our gathering crew begins its march towards the forest.

 Styles Win Fights

    Once everything was settled, the gathering crew has started their adventure. With hunters covering our front and back, I expected a long trek past the bridges and the farms... instead, we took a different path, following a dirt path east of Graywatch.


    "Dressed well for the occasion, eh!?", the foreman asked in a mocking tone, followed by the hearty laughter of my comrades. I just squinted my eyes at their jokes. I bet it looked real funny seeing me geared up with metallic gauntlets and greaves, knee deep in a small river. After crossing, we herded our oxen mounts, then headed into a cave tunnel that was wide enough for us to fit through. I haven''t seen this route before when I was playing...


    Inside the torch-lit tunnel were three paths. An exit to the left, and exit to the north, and a path leading deeper into the tunnel to the right. Haven''t seen this either...


    "What is this place, pops?", I asked as I walked up to the foreman.


    "This place used to be a workin'' mineshaft until the centaurs raided it and sealed the deeper tunnels with earth magic. The Knights of the Six fought hard to drive them back, and this place now serves as an emergency bunker. It''s also safer to travel through into the forest."


    Now that I think of it, there was a dynamic event that feels familiar. In League Wars, dynamic events are map events that keep on repeating, regardless of completion or failure. There was one event that had us defending miners. ...I guess failed events on the map have consequences. I better hurry and save that lady''s farm! ...But not before I''m way stronger.


    We take the northern exit, then climb around a hill until we reached the top. There were plenty of trees of various lengths, but only of two types which I can recognize. I''ve never seen a forest this rich with trees, though. The ones with brown barks and green leaves were Tier 1 Green Wood Trees, and the ones with orange leaves and white barks were Tier 2 Birch Wood Trees. There were the less frequent stone deposits too, in the form of boulders. Upon closer look, the place has Tier 1 Stone and Tier 2 Limestone deposits.


    "Alright, everyone! You know what to do- get back to work!", the foreman yelled. Us laborers then got our axes and stone hammers from the saddles of our oxen and picked our own trees while the hunters accompanying us delved deeper into the forest. As I wielded my axe and walked up to a Green Wood tree, I felt something vibrate in my pocket. It was my compass. I held it up, and it lit up, registering the place. I checked my empty map also, and it filled up on its own! This place was called Greenshade Forest. For a second there, I saw a bar filling up on the lower parts of my vision, is that my experience bar?


    I watched how the other laborers did their work. For stones, they lifted their hammers up and struck at a spot repeatedly. At first, the boulders didn''t seem to budge until cracks formed around and they shattered! For trees however, they determined which side the tree was leaning towards before they scraped off some bark for easier chopping. One thing I noticed is that they do not necessarily cut horizontally but at a downward angle. Probably doing it since it''s easier for trees to-


    "Timber!", a laborer yelled. We all looked towards him and saw a medium size tree already falling, and we steered clear of it as we cheered before the laborer split the fallen log into pieces. Okay, I think I got it.


    Old-school boxers used to chop wood to strengthen their muscles and increase their power... and it makes sense why. After scraping off some bark, I raise my axe to the side before I twist my hips and torso into it, sending the blade crashing into the wood. I can''t help but exhale like a boxer with each chop, and after roughly 47 chops, the log started to tip over-


    "Timber!", I yelled as I watched the log fall and my comrades moving away from it. They then cheered for a short moment before getting back to chopping. Once the log had landed, I saw golden orbs in my vision filling up my experience bar again. When I chopped the fallen log into six portions, I gained more experience. If I calculate it correctly, if I chop five more trees, I''d fill up the bar and level up!


    When I went to grab a log piece though, I saw that there was an option to "Store it to inventory". I looked around to make sure no one was looking, and when I tapped the air to select it, the log distorted and got sucked in as if there was a small black hole! I mumbled "Inventory" and confirmed that it was there. I know I''m supposed to bring these to the oxen mounts... but a piece or two missing won''t hurt them, hehe.


    During the course of two hours, I went to chop five more trees, three green wood and two birch trees to be specific, and I managed to steal- er... "borrow" 18 green wood log pieces and 12 birch tree pieces into my inventory. The rest, I loaded into the oxen mount. There was a floating icon at the bottom right of my sight and when I tapped it, it showed that I had leveled up to 1! Wait- I was level 0 before? Is that why I got my shit kicked in by a mere bandit!?


    Before I could truly fathom how foolish it was to charge towards a bandit- even a centaur as an unarmed, unarmored level 0 player, a new message appeared.


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    "Brawler Profession registered, please demonstrate profession skills.", the message said. Demonstrate? Does it mean that it wants me to shadowbox? It''ll be awkward to do in front of the guys, though.


    I walked up to the foreman who was counting our supplies.


    "Hey pops, you mind if I go deeper? There''s more wood and stone that way.", I said as I pointed towards the deeper parts. The foreman then pauses to think.


    "There''s bound to be some wild animals or monsters that way. You sure, kid?", he asked, to which I nodded. He took one good look at my gear and scratched his head before he told me to bring an ox with me to save me the hassle of traveling back and forth.


    "You better come back alive, Marcus- and with the ox!", the foreman yelled as I walked. I raised a fist as a response. I won''t die needlessly again, I promise.


    I led the ox deeper into the forest until I found a clearing. This should be far enough, and wide enough to showcase my skills. Well, if you wanted to be an MMA fighter, you need at least two striking and two grappling martial arts. I chose Boxing, Muay Thai, Wrestling and Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu as my base. I then thought of ways I could demonstrate before I take a deep breath.


    First, it was Boxing I demonstrated. I took an orthodox stance, left foot forward and right foot behind, following an "L" shape with my feet with my chin and elbows tucked in, fists raised and posture curved in a traditional boxing high guard. From there, I demonstrated my punch arsenal in a free flowing shadowboxing session. Left jabs, right straights, hooks, uppercuts, and even overhand punches. Afterwards, I practiced my head movement, slipping left to right and weaving under before I raised my hands to practice my catches, parries and blocks. Then, I showcased my footwork, the shuffles, pivots, and stance switches into southpaw (right foot forward, left foot behind) and back to orthodox.


    Then, next was Muay Thai. I switched stances, taking the same orthodox position but my feet placement was more narrow, and my body was more squared than bladed with my hands still raised. I shifted my weight back and forth as I lifted my front foot and back foot at a time, forming a rhythm before I demonstrated boxing punches, but this time, I threw elbow strikes at different angles, knee strikes to the body, low roundhouse kicks, mid-kicks and high kicks to the head which sent me twirling around multiple times back into stance. In throwing kicks, Muay Thai tells you to swing your whole leg like a baseball bat and aim with the shins rather than snap with the foot like in Tae Kwon Do. Afterwards, I demonstrated blocks, parries, catches and "checks" where you lift your knees and use the shins to block kicks. In this narrow stance, it was harder to do head movement but easier to block kicks.


    As for grappling... well... there''s only so much you could do by yourself. It takes two to tango, you know? I just performed drills and wrestling and brazilian jiu-jitsu maneuvers. One notable maneuver is the "sprawl", where in anticipation of a takedown, you jump back with your feet and push down with your hips to deny your legs to the enemy and put pressure on their posture.


    As I catch my breath, a message popped up. "Profession Mechanics registered. Thank you for demonstrating." I wonder how it would play in combat.


    After a short break, I continue with breaking some stone this time, collecting 8 stone chunks and 6 limestone chunks for inventory. My hard laboring was interrupted by wings flapping nearby. I quickly turned and to my shock, it was a bat but with much larger wings and half the size of my torso.


    I then take my Boxing stance with a high guard and suddenly, I saw the bat''s name, level and its HP bar, just like in the video game. The level 1 cliff bat then circled around me before flying overhead and swooping down at me, aiming its claws. I stayed calm and stood my ground, grasping the top of my head with my palms as I used my gauntleted forearms to block its strikes. You know, for a common tier armor, these gauntlets seemed to do its job well.


    The cliff bat circled once more around me before swooping forward with the same attack again. This time, instead of guarding, I stepped to the left with my front foot, lining up my shot, before I pivoted with my right, twisting my hips and my torso as I brought my fist upward into an overhand right punch, with my right fist crashing down onto its body as a counter. The cliff bat staggered back and I saw its HP decrease, so I continued with the relentless onslaught, pushing off my feet to throw a left jab and into a right straight punch, followed by a left hook and a right straight punch in a frenzy, reducing it from 80% to 15%. Once its HP was low enough, I went through with a left uppercut to lift it higher only to land another overhand right punch to execute it, leaving it twitching on the ground until it dies. My experience bar fills up again... seems like killing monsters is still the faster way to level up.


    Before I can inspect the cliff bat''s corpse though, a growl alerted me. I turned to see a wolf this time. It was a level 2 Brown Mountain Wolf. I quickly shifted back into my Boxing stance... but the wolf was too low to reach with my punches. Should I switch to Muay Thai-


    Suddenly, the wolf charged! No time for thinking, so I let my instincts take over. I bent my legs and spread my arms, welcoming the lunge before I jumped back with my feet and dropped my hips into a sprawl, letting my stomach rest on top of the wolf''s head. I can feel the wolf biting air below me, so I gripped is fur and slid on top of it to reposition my feet to the side and transition onto a back position, where my body laid on top of its back.


    From behind, I take the improvised Dagestani Handcuff position as my left arm grips its fur and my right gauntleted fist slams repeatedly into its right eye from behind, causing it to whimper in pain and dwindle down its HP little by little. The wolf tried to shake me off, but I pressed my legs together onto its body to latch on and keep throwing these punches. After several punches, I found a split-second opening and I took it, quickly sliding my left arm underneath its throat and locking my left hand into my right bicep, securing a rear naked chokehold as I press my right palm down behind its head. I grunt as I squeeze my elbows together, slowly draining its hp... until...


    When I looked forward, I can see an axe thrown towards me in slow motion. ...Am I going to die again?

 The Brawlers Curse

    I watched as the axe spun in slow motion, keeping my eyes open to inspect its trajectory... until it had landed.


    I froze there with my eyes wide. The axe had landed on the wolf''s skull, which was inches away from my own as I was choking it. I also felt the wolf go limp in my grasp. If that was aimed at me... what could I have done? Should I get a helmet next time? My experience bar had increased too.


    I then glance as I hear footsteps crushing leaves from where the axe came from. A silhouette emerged, one that was tall, had antlers of a stag, and had a wide, furry frame. Did I just anger some protector of the forest? I quickly stood up to prepare for combat-


    "Hey!", the silhouette greeted, before he dropped off the stag corpse he was carrying. It was a hunter we came with in our trip. He had a very wide neck and I shit you not, he was the size of a juggernaut. I''m talking about 9ft tall and built like a fuckin'' brick house. He also had his ginger hair tied to the back in a man bun, a wide, clean-shaven jaw, and blue eyes in an expression akin to a gentle giant''s. This guy must be a Nord, one of the playable races in the game. They are renowned hunters and their hometown are in cold, unforgiving mountains and tundras, similar to vikings.


    I can see him approaching... how would I fight him? That neck''s too thick for my rear naked choke... my grip will fail. Maybe a triangle choke with my legs instead? No, he will easily lift me up and slam me down. What about his joints? His arms and legs are so muscular, I don''t think the force of both my legs and my body is enough to break them... maybe I should go for cumulative damage with calf and leg kicks-


    "You did a good job holding that wolf. I''ve been tracking that elusive one for hours now. I didn''t know humans can be so brave to wrestle with such a mighty beast.", he commented, distracting me from my combative thoughts.


    "...Uh, thanks. But you almost hit me!"


    "I would have, if I was not so skilled.", he says with a confident smirk. That throw was calculated. How terrifying to think that he could have killed me too. He then removes the axe from the wolf''s head before flipping it and holding it by the blade, offering it to me.


    "How about you keep it? For good luck.", the hunter said. I nod and held it. I faced to the side as I inspected it with my appraisal skill. It was a "Throwing Axe". I tried swinging it, but I felt that same force from the tutorial taking away the weapon from my hand, sending it flying and burying into a nearby tree in a sharp thud. A message then appeared.


    "Brawler''s Curse is active. Attempting to wield a weapon with intent to harm fills you with anxiety, giving you a slippery grip and forcing you to discard the weapon." So that explains why I can''t hold swords... but I was able to hold the throwing axe for a bit. Maybe there''s an exploit I can use with throwing weapons?


    "You throw well. Are you a marksman?", the hunter asks before he walked to get the axe back.


    "...No. I have a curse, and I can''t seem to hold weapons very well."


    "Ah. In my homeland, a curse is merely a blessing ignored. A human may wish for the strength of a tiger, but a tiger would wish for a human''s intelligence. While you may not have the firmest grip, who''s going to stop you from being an excellent marksman?", the hunter says in a comforting tone with his deep voice. That''s... true. That''s an optimistic way to look at it.


    "Thank you. What''s your name?", I asked.


    "Brynjolf Einarson. What about yours, friend?", Brynjolf asked.


    "Marcus."


    "Just Marcus? Who is your father?"


    Oh, forgot about that one. Nords usually have their father''s name with "son" at the end for their last name. So he must be Einar''s son...


    "My father''s name is Alexandre.", I replied.


    "Very well. It is an honor to meet you, Marcus Alexandreson." , Brynjolf says, followed by slamming his big fist to his chest in a salute. I return the gesture.


    "The sun is about to set and we must have these carcasses prepared as soon as possible. Will you help me with gutting these animals?", he asked to which I agreed. I mentioned that I had no experience whatsoever, but he laughs it off and says it will be fine.


    Brynjolf then hands me his old skinning knife. A curved blade with a pretty wooden handle depicting a bear with its carvings. The Nords sure have good craftsmanship.


    He gave me general pointers in skinning like not cutting too deep to preserve both the meat and pelt, taking out the organs (most importantly, the colon!) and genitalia, and how to salvage both bones, fangs, claws, and eyes of the beast as they have supposed alchemical properties. Maybe I''ll get to investing in alchemy later down the road.


    While I was just halfway through cutting across the carcass, I glanced at him, and the guy was almost finished with the stag!


    "Brynjolf, how did you end up here? I thought you Nords liked colder climates.", I ask as I continue skinning the wolf.


    "We do prefer the mountains... but we had no choice. The Ice Witch''s forces slowly closing in on our tribes. They... kill my brothers and sisters like wild game and turn them into mindless beasts encased in ice!", he said, with his tone progressively getting angrier. Just like the Lich, the Ice Witch is another threat in this world. Instead of commanding hordes of undead, she corrupts Nords by trapping them in cursed ice and turning them into monsters.


    "We tried to fight back, but with each passing day, her minions increase while us die one by one. We lasted for months, and I have tried my hardest to convince my people that it was a fruitless endeavor to stay! Yet they still stubbornly remain. I..."


    Brynjolf takes a short pause before speaking again.


    "...I was the only survivor. My people died fighting to protect their home, yet I ran away like a coward. I tried to head to head to the Great Lodge of Geirmundholt to ask for help, but their hunters were stretched thin due to the constant attacks. I cannot blame them, so I left. I seek to redeem myself by helping wherever I could, and I have heard of the recent centaur attacks on Greywatch... now I am here."


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    "That''s..."


    For once, I was at a loss for words. It must have been hard to try and save your people by retreating, and feeling like a coward for leaving despite the inevitable. All I could offer was a comforting pat on his shoulder. He gave a small smile, but I could tell he was still in pain.


    I continued with gutting the wolf until I salvaged its fur, some of its teeth, claws, and fangs and harvested some meat and organs that Brynjolf said were useful before I proceeded with the cliff bat I killed earlier too, salvaging some of its teeth and fangs. I''ve noticed that I also get experience when skinning or harvesting animals.


    We loaded up the nearby oxen mount''s bags before we led it back to the outskirts of the forest where the foreman was there to tally up the resources. He bought off the wood and stone from my mount''s bags for 20 silver coins while I got to keep the hunting loot for myself. All of us then descended the cliff and went back into Graywatch, celebrating for the night with drinks at the local inn. The foreman mentioned that with this much resources, we should be able to rebuild in a week after our raw materials have been processed.


    "Hey, Brynjolf. For how much longer will you be staying here?", I asked as we ate chicken stew.


    "I''m afraid I will be departing once the city is rebuilt. Why do you ask?"


    "I was planning to leave too once the reparations are finished. Want to come with me?"


    "We shall see.", Brynjolf answered. He didn''t seem too willing, but he didn''t look like he was against the idea either. Having him as a companion would make leveling so much easier. It''s like getting carried by a high level player! ...Now that I think about it, have I even inspected his level?


    I focused my sight on him as he ate before reading his name in my vision. "Brynjolf Einarsson... Level 20!?" What the fuck?


    My jaw practically dropped after seeing that. Everyone else in this town was either level 0, 1 or 2 and this juggernaut came in out of nowhere and dunked on us all. Maybe... is he a player? Should I ask? Though I haven''t seen anything "player-like" from him. I mean, I could die to reset this day and find out if he''s still there... but nah, I ain''t doing that.


    "Is there a problem?", Brynjolf asks before I shook his head and steered the conversation into something else. We talked about food. He talked about precious memories of him eating "Roast Dolyak Meat", which was a furrier relative of our oxen. All I''ve had so far is basic ass chicken stew, so I was mad jealous when he described the taste.


    After dinner and the drinks, I rented a room again and laid on the bed, staring on the ceiling. If he''s leaving, then I have to take advantage of his time here. Maybe I''ll get him to coach me on throwing weapons, yeah. I double checked my stats and levels. I went from level 0 to level 2 in one day. I think I could powerlevel up to 8 this week if I play my cards right. I mentally thought of a plan to proceed before I close my eyes and rest.


    The next morning, I ate some chicken stew to receive food buffs before meeting with the other laborers. For the first few days, we were tasked with refining and processing these materials, and my days have fallen into a routine again. Just like in the game, there were stations for material refinement, like the lumbermill, tanner, and stonemason. I helped out in all three.


    In the lumbermill, we set our collected logs down on a stand and manually cut them into planks with a long saw blade. In the stonemason''s however, we had to manually cut the lumps of stones into proper blocks with hammers and chisels. Both of these were hard work, but they slowly raised my experience bar to level four with three days of refinement.


    After we had our materials refined, it was another week of hard labor, the usual stuff. With Brynjolf''s helping out with the reparations too however, the pace has been picking up. My routine has changed, however. During early mornings, I still jog, then I work from morning ''til noon helping rebuild the city, then after lunch I went on hunting trips with Brynjolf at the nearby forest, working on my throwing skill and gathering whatever materials I could, then still making some time to practice my martial arts by early evening on my makeshift punching bag. Sounds incredibly exhausting, and I wouldn''t have done it if I wasn''t powered by this world''s chicken stew.


    The experience from hunting animals with Brynjolf, skinning them, and refining the materials I''ve gathered easily boosted me to level 8 by the final day. That''s... 72 more levels to go. It''s overwhelming when I think about it... but I should take it day by day, yeah.


    With a white bandana covering my head under the hot sun, I hammer the last two nails to rebuild a house.


    "Hey boss! I''m done here! Anywhere else that needs help?", I shouted.


    "That''s all that needs rebuildin''. Good work.", the foreman said. As I descend the ladders, the foreman called all of us laborers over then rallied us to the city''s center. I glanced around with the people standing by their rebuilt houses, some of them I can recognize from the invasion.


    "Say somethin'' nice, will you?", the foreman whispered before he cleared his throat to gather everyone''s attention.


    "Everyone! Once again, we have proven our tenacity¡ªno invasion can truly break us!"


    The foreman then paused, with his voice steady. "We lost many that day. But had the Knights of the Six not intervened, we would have lost far more." A moment of silence then followed, heavy with remembrance.


    "However! That day, one brave soul stood among us. Not a knight, but with the heart of one. Someone reckless enough¡ª no, dumb enough, to fight a centaur with his bare hands to save strangers. But most importantly, he stayed. When the battle was over, he didn¡¯t leave us alone to pick up our mess. He fought for this city, and now, he¡¯s been one of the driving forces behind its rebuilding."


    The foreman then turned toward me. "Everyone, lend your ears to the Hero of Graywatch, Marcus!"


    The crowd erupted, with whistles, cheers, thunderous applause. My fellow laborers clapped as they stepped aside, making way for me.


    Damn it. What do I even say now?


    "Uh. Listen. I''m really not a hero. I''m just a working man like you all...", I said, before glancing at the foreman who gave me the scariest glare I''ve received. Alright, alright, I guess I''ll go with through with this motivational speech bullshit...


    "But lately, I¡¯ve been thinking... why was I given this title? What does it really mean to be a hero?", I said before giving a short pause.


    "Some might say it¡¯s about strength, like my friend Brynjolf here, who can lift an entire log with one hand. Others might say it¡¯s about protection, like the Knights of the Six, who defend our people from centaurs. And sure, those are valid. But after working alongside these men and women, I¡¯ve come to realize something else. Being a hero isn¡¯t just about strength or combat¡ªit¡¯s about sacrifice. It¡¯s about breaking your back, pushing through exhaustion, and giving everything you¡¯ve got for the people you care about. These men, especially the foreman, are the real heroes of Graywatch here. I''ve seen it personally- they¡¯ve poured their blood, sweat, and tears into rebuilding this city. So, no- I am no hero. But I¡¯ve had the honor of working with them."


    There was a moment of silence... then claps, and soon, a roaring applause. I turned around to see the foreman''s reaction, which was just a quiet nod. My fellow laborers behind me had their fists raised, cheering their hearts out like the real heroes they were. Brynjolf, the gentle giant on the other hand, was driven to tears and quickly blocked his eyes with his muscular forearm so no one could see. I guess... the city is really rebuilt now. I''ve reached level 8 as well, so...


    Stay strong, Miss Annie. I''ll save your farm...


    ...and just you wait you fuckin'' bandit, I''ll repay my death a thousand times worse.

 A Thousand Times Worse

    After the celebrations, the city prepared for a small afternoon feast, with every household contributing a meal for the community. The foreman tried to persuade us to stay at least until then, but I couldn''t shake the urgency gnawing at me. I had already spent nearly a month preparing for this. Annie''s farm couldn''t wait any longer.


    "Alright then, at least take something with you," Mayor Durand said, his tone carrying a hint of disappointment. He then called someone over.


    "What do you need, Mayor?" the man asked.


    Wait¡ªwait, wait, wait.


    "You''re the mayor!?" I blurted out. The man tilted his head in confusion while Durand¡ªnow officially Mayor Durand¡ªturned toward me with his usual serious expression.


    "Got a problem with that, kid?"


    "No, sir¡ªjust wish I''d known earlier."


    It all made sense now¡ªhow he rallied the people so easily, how he delivered that speech so effortlessly.


    Durand ordered the man to fetch my "reward," and he sprinted off to get it. A reward? Maybe some enchanted gear? A rare or even exotic-quality item? Hopefully not a weapon, though¡ªI already had that covered.


    "Uh, Mayor Durand, sir¡­ I don''t think I ever got your name."


    Durand snorted, then burst into a hearty laugh, shaking his head as he wiped his eyes.


    "You never asked, ya idiot! It''s Durand."


    The runner returned, leading my so-called reward¡ªa saddled ox. The same one I had led into the clearing before.


    "We don''t have much, but you deserve this, at least," Durand said. "Born and raised here¡ªsturdy and loyal. He''ll carry whatever junk you pick up on your travels. Treat him well."


    I stepped closer, cautiously reaching out to pet the ox''s head. It didn''t flinch.


    Durand sighed, crossing his arms. "So, once again, why the hell are you two leaving? You''ve done enough to be permanent residents here. We could use the manpower."


    Brynjolf stood tall, his voice unwavering. "I seek redemption¡ªto restore my honor as a Nord. I will travel the ends of Coridia to find it."


    Durand gave him a nod, as if he understood completely. Then his eyes landed on me. "And you, Marcus?"


    I hesitated. "...I just want to get stronger. To help people."


    Durand scoffed. "Bah. You young''uns and your dreams."


    He offered a handshake to Brynjolf, who took it¡ªgripping firmly, testing each other''s strength before giving a nod of mutual respect. I extended my own hand, only for Durand to swat it away and pull me into a crushing embrace.


    "Stay safe, son," he muttered.


    "...Thanks," I said, patting his back¡ª


    And suddenly, he twisted. My feet left the ground. Before I even processed what was happening, I slammed onto my back, the wind knocked out of me.


    Did this old man just hip-throw me?!


    Durand let out the loudest cackle I''d ever heard from him. Usually so gruff, so serious¡ªyet here he was, laughing like a madman.


    "Wow," Brynjolf said flatly.


    "Still a thousand years too young to beat me," Durand declared smugly.


    Oh, hell no. "Yeah? Want me to prove you wrong?" I shot back, pushing myself up. My competitive spirit flared¡ªI was not walking away with an L.


    Durand just grinned and turned away. "Nah. Got shit to do. Come back sometime, will ya?"


    ...What a weird way to ask if I''d visit.


    With that, I grabbed the reins of my ox and set off down the road with Brynjolf.


    "Want to come with me?" I asked. "I''m doing the same thing¡ªtraveling, helping people."


    "Sure. Thanks for helping me reclaim my legend," Brynjolf said.


    Once we reached the open road, I climbed into the saddle and grabbed the reins. That''s when a message appeared before me.


    Would you like to soul-bind this mount?


    I selected Yes¡ªand suddenly, green light enveloped both me and the ox. A few seconds later, another message confirmed the bond was complete.


    ...Wait. Did Brynjolf see that?


    "Astonishing," he muttered.


    "...Huh?"


    "The most skilled beastmasters take months to bind their spirit to an animal¡­ and you did it in mere moments," Brynjolf said, his voice laced with disbelief.


    Shit. Did that just expose me as a player?


    "...Wow. I don''t know what happened. Guess this ox just likes me," I said, feigning innocence.


    "Hmph."


    I flinched. That wasn''t from Brynjolf. I glanced at my ox. It shook its head.


    Did it just¡­ talk?


    "Perhaps," Brynjolf mused. Then, with a commanding tone, he called out: "Fenrir!"


    Green light engulfed him as well, lifting his massive frame¡ªthen, in seconds, he was astride a saddled white Great Wolf, easily as large as my ox. Seeing the mount-up animation from the game up close was surreal.


    "Let us make haste, brother. Where to next?"


    I shook off the shock and focused. "We turn right past the bridge, then follow the road to a farm."


    Brynjolf nodded, tugging his reins. His wolf shot forward in a burst of speed, kicking up dust.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    "Hey, you gonna let that wolf beat you?" I challenged.


    My ox inclined its head. "No. Hold on tight."


    Before I could react, it surged forward, accelerating into a full gallop! The wind lashed against my face as we closed in on the wolf''s tail. My ox was blindingly fast in a straight line but struggled on sharp turns, forcing it to slow down before bursting forward again. After a few minutes, we spotted Brynjolf slowing down. We followed suit.


    "Brother¡­ is this the farm you spoke of?"


    I looked ahead¡ªand my stomach dropped.


    It was barely recognizable. The cornstalks were shriveled and dead. The garden was overrun with wurm monsters, their segmented bodies writhing through the soil. The cows were scattered, cowering behind whatever cover they could find.


    And the barn¡­ two bandits stood outside, flipping a coin and laughing to themselves.


    But where was Annie?


    Rage bubbled inside me. "...Brynjolf, take care of the wurms. I''ll handle the bandits."


    "Right."


    Brynjolf spurred Fenrir forward, charging into the garden. He leaped from his mount, twin steel axes flashing in the light. His wolf joined the fight¡ªsomething I''d never seen in the game before.


    "You need help?" my ox asked in my mind.


    I shook my head, dismounting. Slowly, deliberately, I walked toward the two bandits.


    They finally noticed me. Both wore red and white bandanas over their faces, jagged patterns resembling shark teeth.


    I checked their levels. Bandit, Level 5.


    Three levels below me. Easy work.


    "Where''s Annie?" I demanded, my glare locked onto them.


    They exchanged glances, then snickered. One stepped forward, arms crossed.


    "Dead," he said. His voice sent a shiver down my spine¡ªbecause I recognized it.


    The same bastard who had killed me before.


    "...And you''re next."


    A furnace ignited within me¡ªmy core burned, my neck seared with heat¡ªyet I felt eerily calm. My body brimmed with fury, but my mind sharpened like a blade. I wouldn''t hold back. I wouldn''t give them a chance. Before they died, they would know fear and pain.


    "I''m going to rip your eyes out and choke you both with your entrails."


    I settled into my stance¡ªorthodox, left foot forward, right foot back¡ªbut I adjusted, tucking my left arm low across my waist, chin shielded behind my shoulder, right fist tight against my cheek. The Philly Shell¡ªthe ultimate defense, made famous by legends.


    I advanced in short, measured steps. The bandit brandished his knife, but I saw it¡ªhesitation. His eyes darted, uncertain. I stomped forward in a feint, and he panicked, leaping back, swinging wildly.


    He was scared. Good.


    I stalked closer, flicking out my left arm¡ªphantom jabs¡ªnever touching him, just filling the space, pressuring him.


    "Damn it!" he cursed before lunging. His shoulders tensed. His elbow lifted. Slow.


    I stepped in, parrying his forearm with mine, halting his strike. My back foot pivoted, my hips twisted, and I drove a straight right into his face. Bone crunched¡ªhis nose shattered, lip split. The wet thwack of impact echoed, sickening.


    He reeled backward, wobbling. I snatched his face with my left hand, locking my grip, then pivoted into another right straight, smashing into his chin. His body stiffened, then collapsed. Out cold.


    "Y-you monster!" The second bandit stammered, unsheathing a longsword.


    In response, I pressed my boot down on his fallen comrade''s skull, crushing it until his health dropped to zero. My XP bar ticked up. My greaves, now slick with crimson and brain matter, felt heavier.


    "Gregory, no!"


    I raised my hands, high guard, stepping just outside his reach. His sword¡ªa near four-foot extension of his trembling grip¡ªgave him the advantage. I circled, skipping on my toes, calculating. I had to close the distance without getting skewered.


    A shorter fighter in boxing or MMA had to bulldoze their way inside, but a sword was different. A single mistake meant death. I couldn''t tank a stab to the face. Could I fight dirty? An eye gouge? A groin shot? Too far.


    I dashed forward, inches from the tip of his blade, bobbing my head erratically. He twitched. The moment his elbows retracted for a thrust, I slipped left, bending at the hip¡ªdodge.


    Now.


    I smacked the blade aside with my gauntlet, creating an opening.


    No, not yet. Not deep enough.


    Instead, I unsheathed the throwing axe at my belt and hurled it. He barely managed to block, raising his arms, blade catching the axe mid-flight.


    His weapon was occupied.


    I sprinted in, diving low, my left knee planting as I stepped forward. My head drove into his stomach, my arms snatching his hamstring, catching him in a blast double-leg takedown attempt.


    I surged forward. He slammed onto his back, breath blasting from his lungs. His sword clattered free from his hands.


    I pressed my shoulder down, keeping him pinned down as I walk my left leg over his legs, scooting my butt to sit on his stomach in a full mount.


    Before he could react, I yanked his longsword from his fingers and flung it aside.


    Sword versus unarmed was always a losing battle. But grappling? Grappling was different. No luck, no guesswork. If the swordsman could keep a grappler away, they won. If the grappler closed the distance...


    The swordsman dies.


    I rained down punches. My fists caved in his face, over and over. Bone cracked. Skin split. He tried to shield himself¡ªI ripped his wrist away and drove a downward elbow straight into his forehead.


    With each strike, something inside me whispered.


    Weak.


    His skull gave way, flesh and bone crumbling beneath my gauntlets.


    Weak. Weak. Weak.


    My fist rose for another blow.


    Then¡ªpressure.


    A vice closed around my wrist. Not just tight. Crushing.


    Pain jolted up my arm. My bones groaned under the force. I snarled, trying to rip free, but the grip did not budge.


    A voice spoke up. Low and steady.


    "...It is over, brother. Do not let the beast inside you devour your humanity.", Brynjolf said.


    The embers of my fury snuffed out. The red haze receded.


    I looked down. The body beneath me...


    Its face¡ªunrecognizable. Popped eyes. A caved-in skull. Teeth scattered like broken glass.


    My gauntlets, dripping with warm crimson, trembled.


    "...You''re right. I''m sorry."


    I pushed off, exhaling, the battle''s weight sinking in.


    "What about the wurms?" I asked.


    "Already dealt with," Brynjolf said, his tone reassuring.


    I stepped aside, peering past his broad frame¡ªcarnage. Wurm guts were strewn across the garden, steaming pools of acidic bile eating into the earth. A massacre.


    ...And yet, somehow, what he did looked worse than mine. Are we sure Brynjolf gets to be the voice of reason here?


    We moved into the barn. Empty. Almost.


    A rustle behind the crates.


    We followed the sound¡ªan old woman, bound and gagged. Farmer Annie.


    Her clothes were torn, but she looked unharmed. She blinked up at us, her breathing shallow. Relief flooded through me. We made it in time.


    I knelt beside her, reaching for the gag. "It''s okay, ma''am. We''re here to help."


    She flinched.


    My fingers stopped just shy of the cloth. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her body rigid against the wooden floor. My stomach twisted. That wasn''t relief in her eyes.


    It was fear.


    Her gaze darted between me and Brynjolf. Then lower.


    I followed her line of sight. My gauntlets, dripping crimson. My boots, caked in flesh and bone.


    The bodies outside. The destruction.


    She trembled violently, her head shaking, muffled pleas spilling from behind the gag¡ªnot for help.


    For mercy.


    I slowly retracted my hands, heart pounding.


    ...Are we really the heroes here?

 The Broodmothers Wrath

    I pull my skinning knife from my belt and squat down, silently cutting the ropes and gag binding the trembling farmer.


    "Calm down. We''re here to help," I say firmly.


    "Please¡ªdon''t hurt me! I have nothing left to give! Just don''t tell Ivan the Fearless!" she pleads, her voice raw with panic.


    Ivan the Fearless? Haven''t heard that name before. A bandit leader, maybe?


    Her eyes dart to something behind me. I glance over my shoulder¡ªshattered mirror. My reflection stares back in broken shards. Blood-splattered armor, punk aesthetic, messy black mohawk fade. Scarred eyebrow slit, slightly bent nose. No wonder she''s terrified.


    For a second, I wonder¡ªwhy does my body still look the same? It''s been a month. Shouldn''t there be changes? A glitch, or just part of the game''s design?


    Farmer Annie''s breath shudders. She''s still frozen, staring at me. Right. Focus.


    "We are here to protect you and rebuild your farm. Do not be afraid," Brynjolf says, his deep voice steady and reassuring.


    Annie hesitates, then slowly regains her composure. "Oh, thank goodness... I-I thought you were one of them!"


    She explains. The stolen crates? Just a test. A trial run for Ivan the Fearless, a gang leader terrorizing the outskirts of Graywatch. Rumor has it the Coridian Explorer League''s navigation system was hacked¡ªthat explains the scout at the crossroads, desperate to recruit adventurers. The Knights of the Six were supposed to guard the farms... but they never came. Waypoints disabled. No reinforcements. No help.


    If I explore this entire region and turn my map and compass into the Explorer League¡­ maybe I can restore the navigation system. Another incentive to fully clear the map.


    "We''ll try to fix this," I declare.


    Brynjolf glances at me, hesitant, then nods. "...But first, let us rebuild this farm to its former glory."


    We step outside. Gore. Everywhere.


    Blood splattered across the gardens and pathways. I''m surprised Annie hasn''t puked.


    "Sorry for the mess," I say.


    "Oh, don''t you worry ''bout it, sweetheart. They''ll make good fertilizer," Annie replies, her voice creeping back into its usual cheer.


    I blink. Wait. Did she just¡ª?


    Brynjolf stares at the field of wurm carcasses, then turns to me with a sheepish smile. "Brother Marcus¡ª"


    "Nope. Clean up your own mess, you dick," I cut in.


    He sighs, and we both get to work. We dig graves, burying the bandits and wurm remains, then draw water from the well to soak the ground before re-tilling the soil.


    Next, we summon our mounts¡ªhis great white wolf scares off the scattered cows, while I herd them back with my ox. After refilling their troughs and tossing out fresh hay, we reinforce the pens, hammering in loose nails. Just as Brynjolf secures the gate, my compass vibrates.


    I pull it out alongside my map. A golden heart icon flashes¡ªquest complete. My experience bar fills to three-quarters. The waypoint on the map pulses blue.


    At the farm''s entrance, the actual waypoint¡ªa massive gray cube etched with intricate patterns¡ªsplits in half. A ray of blue light passes through.


    Then, people step out.


    Knights of the Six... and the Guardian.


    The Guardian, flanked by knights, rushes toward Annie. Brynjolf and I follow out of curiosity.


    "...Farmer Annie..." the Guardian pants through her Armet helmet. After a moment, she pulls it off¡ªgolden locks spill free, big green eyes darting around the farm, lips pressed in concern.


    "We''re so sorry¡ªthe waypoint was malfunctioning. We''ve been trying for weeks to reach all the requests¡ª"


    "It''s fine. Already taken care of, thanks to these two," Annie interjects.


    The Guardian turns to us. Her eyes land on me.


    Then, she double-takes.


    "It''s YOU! Hero of Graywatch¡ªwell, technically, we were both the heroes¡ªbut it''s you!"


    "Uh¡­ hey. Nice to see you again," I reply casually.


    Brynjolf turns to me. "Do you know her, brother?"


    "Yes, he does! He saved my life. He''s my hero!" she exclaims.


    "...Look, I''m no hero. Just call me Marcus. And this is my brother-in-arms, Brynjolf."


    The Guardian straightens. "I see... Well met, Marcus and Brynjolf! I am Liliana Michaela Charlotte of the Haessler family, and it is a pleasure to meet you two gentlemen!"


    ...I already forgot the rest of her name.


    "So... will you two tell me what''s been happening?"


    The four of us talk¡ªabout the scattered cows, the wurm-infested gardens, the bandits. We leave out the gory details, but I mention that once we completed the golden heart on the Explorer''s map, the waypoint reactivated.


    Which means...


    Maybe we just found a way to fix the whole damn navigation system.


    A few knights approached Liliana, whispering in her ear. She nodded in response.


    "I''ll leave it to you two gentlemen, then! Farmer Annie, we¡¯ll assign a few knights on rotation to keep you safe," Liliana said in a reassuring tone.


    She turned back to us, flashing a grin as bright as her golden locks before giving a cheerful wave and slipping her helmet back on. I¡¯d be lying if I said that wasn¡¯t cute.


    Brynjolf coughed¡ªloudly¡ªsnapping me out of my thoughts. When I looked at him, he had the stupidest grin on his face, eyebrows waggling.


    "What?" I asked, already regretting it.


    "Is this what you humans call... ''Love at First Sight''?" he teased before bursting into laughter, giving me a shoulder tap that felt more like a shove.


    "Shut up," I grumbled, throwing a playful jab into his stomach. He doubled over slightly with a grunt. Serves you right, asshole.


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    Despite our protests, Farmer Annie insisted on giving us a pouch of five silver coins for our hard work. She could¡¯ve used that money to restock...


    "Where to next, brother?" Brynjolf asked, climbing onto his massive white wolf. I swung onto my ox mount¡¯s saddle.


    "Let''s see..."


    I pulled out my compass, letting it settle. A faint vibration ran through my palm as the needle locked onto the fields we just plowed. Hollowbourne Fields ¨C Point of Interest registered.


    With that, we set off toward the next golden marker on the map¡ªa river at the base of a mountain. There, a fisherman stood, scratching his head.


    "Excuse me," I called out. "My friend and I are here to help."


    The fisherman turned, eyeing us warily before sighing.


    "Guess it won¡¯t hurt t¡¯ ask for help. Gods-damned centaurs wrecked our fishing lines, nets, and traps. Worse, they riled up a nearby drake nest¡ªnow we got those scaly bastards lurkin¡¯ ''round, eatin'' from my spots!" he ranted.


    Brynjolf and I exchanged a glance. Then, with a nod, we headed for the riverbank.


    "I''ll take this side," Brynjolf said, moving to the right.


    "Gotcha. I''ll take this one."


    I turned to face a drake hunched over a trap, gobbling up crayfish. Staying light on my toes, I strafed to the right, unsheathed my throwing axe, took aim, and let it fly.


    The axe spun mid-air before burying itself into the drake''s leathery hide. It hissed, twisting its snout to locate me before letting out a shriek and charging forward. I pivoted on my right foot, smoothly stepping out of the way of its snapping jaws.


    A quick glance at its HP¡ª85% remaining. Level 4. Weaker than the bandit, but still... how the fuck do you fight an alligator-lizard hybrid!?


    I bent my knees, slightly crouching into a wrestler''s stance. Maybe I should sprawl and move around it like I did with the wolf?


    Before I could decide, the drake lunged again¡ªbut this time, it spun mid-attack, whipping its thick tail toward me. I instinctively raised my left knee, blocking it with my shinguard, but the impact rattled my leg like a brutal calf kick. I stumbled back, resetting my stance.


    That hurt... but so far, it¡¯s only used bites and tail whips. Surely, it won¡¯t get worse.


    It got worse.


    The drake paused, its belly swelling as it sucked in air.


    Oh no.


    I bolted sideways just as a blast of fire erupted from its mouth, scorching the ground where I had stood.


    It can breathe fire!?


    Screw the level gap. I might be double its level, but that means nothing if I get roasted alive. I have to fight this thing like it¡¯s stronger than me.


    I scrambled for any useful knowledge and remembered something from a Discovery Channel documentary. Alligators can crush bones with their bite, but their muscles for opening their jaws? Weak as hell.


    The drake inhaled again. I dodged right, narrowly avoiding another searing cone of fire. It struggled to track me mid-breath¡ªthat was my opening.


    I stayed low in my wrestler¡¯s stance, hands open. As the drake prepared to lunge, I exploded off my left foot, sidestepping at an angle to dodge its bite. At the same moment, I brought my left hand down in a hammer fist, slamming the top of its snout.


    Before it could recoil, I spread my fingers, pressing my weight onto its head to keep its mouth shut.


    "Need help, brother?" Brynjolf called from behind.


    "I''m good! I think I got it!"


    The drake thrashed, its body jerking violently. Holding firm, I bent my left arm, jumped back with my feet, and dropped my hips into a sprawl, pinning its snout down with my torso. As it flailed, I snaked my right arm under its jaw, gripping my own leather armor like a gi choke, locking its mouth shut in a guillotine hold.


    With the drake restrained, I raised my left gauntleted fist¡ªthen slammed it down into its skull. Again. And again. Each strike chipped 6% off its health, targeting its left eye.


    As its HP dropped to 35%, I felt it inhale sharply, its belly expanding.


    Not this time.


    I tightened the choke, pressing my arm and chest against its snout.


    BAM!


    The drake¡¯s own flames backfired, cooking it from the inside out. Its HP plummeted to 0.


    A notification flickered. My experience bar ticked up.


    I¡¯d won.


    I stood up, scanning my side of the battlefield. Just one drake and three skales left.


    Thinking back, if I were still playing as my game character, I¡¯d have cleared this with a greatsword in seconds. Goes to show how much easier things are with a proper weapon.


    I raised my fists into a high guard, stepping toward a skale. It hissed, standing on its hind legs as I settled into a boxing stance. At least I wouldn¡¯t have to do any awkward maneuvering to land clean strikes.


    The level 4 skale lunged, swiping with its claws. I raised my arms, absorbing the impact with my gauntlets as I stepped back, then pivoted to circle around. As soon as I found an opening, I shot out a light left jab, followed by a powerful right straight to its head. The impact sent it stumbling.


    That¡¯s when I noticed something.


    The amount of force I put into my strikes affects my damage output. Its HP dropped to 90%¡ª


    Until an icon flickered below its health bar.


    Three white crosses on a yellow background.


    Regeneration.


    Right, I just remembered¡ªskale-type monsters have a constant healing buff in battle. Some abilities were even named after them because they granted regen effects.


    This thing was restoring 3% HP per tick, way too fast. If I wanted to bring it down, I had to overwhelm it with a relentless barrage.


    I extended my left arm into a long guard, baiting another attack. The skale hissed and slashed at me, but I pushed off my feet, narrowly backstepping out of reach. Before it could recover, I stepped in with my right foot, pivoting into a right straight counter to its head. The blow staggered it.


    I immediately shuffled forward, driving a left hook into its ribs, followed by an overhand right to its skull. Then came a left jab, right straight, a left hook to the body, and a right uppercut to the jaw¡ªeach punch setting up the next in a flawless flow of body-to-head and head-to-body combos. Despite its healing factor, I wore it down, its HP plummeting to 25%.


    Time to finish this.


    I grabbed its wrist and throat, roaring as I slammed it into the dirt with brute strength. Pinning it down, I rained down vicious ground-and-pound with my fists, dribbling its skull into the earth until its HP hit zero. My experience bar ticked up.


    I glanced over¡ªBrynjolf had already finished his enemies. Eviscerated was the only word for it. His battleaxes made short work of them. He looked over, grinning, and gave me a double thumbs-up.


    Alright. No way I could let him down now.


    It took some time, but I took down the remaining drake and skales using the same strategy, chipping away at their HP while stacking my own experience bar. If I had to gauge it, I was at about 75% XP before leveling up.


    Might as well finish the chores and save looting for later.


    Brynjolf and I crossed the river, helping with the menial tasks¡ªrepairing fishing lines, nets, and crawfish traps. Each completed task filled up the map¡¯s golden heart, signaling progress.


    Just as we were almost finished, a few children ran up to a fisherman.


    "Pa! Look what I found! It¡¯s huge!" one of the boys said proudly.


    The fisherman¡¯s face paled. "What the¡ªwhere did you get this!?"


    "From that nest across the river." The boy pointed.


    I followed his finger, my gaze landing on the nest. Then, slowly, realization dawned on me.


    Oh, shit.


    A piercing shriek echoed through the air.


    A massive drake ascended from its burrow, its silhouette casting a shadow over it. Easily the size of a school bus. It crossed the river in seconds, its eyes locking onto us.


    A quick glance at its name and level sent a chill down my spine.


    "Level 6 Veteran Drake Broodmother."


    Before I could react, its throat swelled. Heat rippled off its body as its chest expanded¡ª


    It was about to breathe fire.


    "Move!" I roared, grabbing the nearest kid and diving aside¡ª


    Flames erupted from its mouth, turning the riverbank into an inferno.


    Brynjolf and the fisherman barely managed to roll out of the way, cursing as the heat licked at his armor.


    "That beast is going burn the whole place down!" he shouted.


    I balled my fists, adrenaline surging at the massive threat.


    The Veteran Drake Broodmother reared back, preparing another attack.


    No time to think. No time to plan.


    I charged.