《Chance's Gambit (LitRPG | Progression Fantasy | System Integration)》 Chapter One: Its the end of the world as we know it. And I feel fucking awful. Lorelei stared at the half-empty cardboard box on her desk and couldn''t help but feel somewhat judged by its contents. Or, rather, by the lack of them. You''d like to think that when your day of defenestration came, you''d have gathered enough knick-knacks to feel like the colossal mountains of shit you''d shovelled for the powers that be over the years had been worthwhile. Yet all she seemed to have collected was a dead cactus, a framed picture of her cat, and a ''World''s Best [ ]'' mug gifted by her ex-boss. An ex-boss who was also now one very, very, VERY ex other things. Call her cynical, but it kind of felt that her choice to make him the latter might have had a little something to do with him choosing to become the former. Among the bubbling cauldron of emotions smacking her in the face right now, the shame of becoming such an office clich¨¦ was simmering near the top, right alongside a growing desire to punt that stupid cactus out the window. ¡®We thank you for your many years of dedicated service . . .¡¯ Of course, the irony of it all wasn''t lost on her. After ten years of pulling the ''You''re Fired'' trigger on everyone she''d been pointed at, that particular email template had finally landed in her inbox this morning to end her time at Glyde and Glyde. It might have been nice if they''d not used the pro forma she designed for them just for this purpose. But, you know, Karma had apparently forgotten to take her anti-bitch pills this morning. How many of those emails had she sent out over the years? "We thank you for your years of dedicated service, but yada yada yada fuck off and die." She was willing to accept the wording was probably a little more subtle than that, but the general meaning had always been clear. You compromised, and you compromised, and you compromised. Then, when it was your neck on the block, there wasn''t anyone left around to have your back. Now that was a fucking contorted metaphor - and one that deserved to be locked up in a dark room with no possibility of parole. The ¡®agenda Nazi¡¯ had lost control of the agenda. Irony upon irony. Dragging her feet through the lobby, Lorelei¡ªcarrying her sad little box¡ªgave one last look up at the massive chandelier that dominated the space. The damn thing glittered like a diamond-studded monolith representing every soul-crushing hour she''d spent here. With a resigned sigh, she pushed through the double-glass doors for the final time, avoiding the eyes of the various security guards who appeared to be itching for her to try something. Quite what they envisaged her five-foot-nothing skinny arse was going to try in the middle of a grey Tuesday in Birmingham, she wasn''t entirely sure. She needed at least a few sips of Smirnoff''s finest before getting up to those sorts of shenanigans. Exiting onto the vast, grey expanse of the Belgrave Middleway, she appreciated the effort of a world doing its best to mirror her mood. Rain crashed down in thick, stringy lines, drenching her thin overcoat and soaking through her cardboard box. In moments, the whole thing had lost its integrity, and her pathetic pile of belongings splattered to the pavement like last week¡¯s roadkill. Thunder rolled, and water fell. As she watched, a puddle formed around the soggy remains of her office life, and she swore the damn cactus waved her goodbye as it sank into its watery grave. Seriously, that was her go-to descriptive technique for this crucial life moment? A fucking pathetic fallacy? Apparently, that was the pathetic level to which her life had descended. For shame. How many of those poorly conceived metaphorical musings had she cut from every letter the Prick with the prick had churned out over the last decade? Fuck him, fuck it and fuck this fucking weather. As she made her way slowly ¨C and wetly - home, Lorelei found herself in such a funk that she didn¡¯t notice the strange, discordant hum in the air or how her shadow flickered unnaturally as she moved. Somewhat in a daze, she ignored all the signs that something extraordinary was happening in the sky of downtown Birmingham and crossed the road to go down the steps towards the underpass. The overpowering stench of yesterday¡¯s urine greeted her as she entered the dark, concrete tunnel. Nice of it to hang around to make sure she didn¡¯t miss it. Mind you, it looked like a number of the locals were doing their best to keep the bounteous flow going. Fuck, she hated the city centre. She couldn¡¯t understand how she¡¯d been persuaded to give up her lovely, quaint little house near the park to ¡®move closer to work.¡¯ Come off it, girl. Of course, she understood how! She moved to be near a married boss who really liked having her . . . ¡®expertise¡¯ on tap. He¡¯d even set her up in a nice modern apartment just a short stroll from the office. All so very convenient for that early morning/late night shuffle he so enjoyed. He¡¯d even had his own set of keys cut for easier access. That train of thought led to a logical conclusion that derailed her mind to an abrupt, crashing stop. The shuffling morass of people packed in around her on their early evening commute somehow opened up a gap as they passed, meaning she narrowly avoided being run over by hundreds of entirely indifferent feet. So, today wasn¡¯t a complete wash. Nevertheless, the full ramifications of the dawning horror of her situation finally hit home. If the Prick had summarily fired her when she finally broke it off, what were the chances she¡¯d find her stuff on the pavement and the locks changed when she got ¡®home¡¯? No. He couldn¡¯t really be that petty? Could he? Of course, he fucking could be. It was only last week that he¡¯d spent an hour trying to prove his dog walker returned to the house after fifty-eight minutes of ¡®walkies¡¯ rather than the full hour. CCTV footage from the Ring doorbells of six neighbours had been involved. So, wasn¡¯t that awesome? Wasn¡¯t this the day that just kept on fucking giving? She was not so much ¡®Sleepless in Seattle¡¯ as ¡®Homeless in Edgbaston¡¯. Somehow, though, she didn¡¯t think Tom Hanks would be coming to her imminent rescue . . . Lorelei stood frozen, trying to gather the motivation to get moving towards what was obviously going to be a shit outcome. As she was thinking things really could not get much worse, Lorelei was repeatedly buffeted by the tide of increasingly fast-moving bodies sweeping around her. Was there something going on out there? By the ninetieth time she was nearly bumped off her feet, the words of her favourite poem came unbidden to her mind. ¡°Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled // And each man fixed his eyes before his feet.¡± ¡°You what?¡± She looked up and into the eyes of a man far too old and heavy to be seeking to pull off a white branded hoodie. ¡°Eliot,¡± she offered as a way of lame explanation. ¡°What the fuck are you talking about? My name¡¯s Steve.¡± ¡°No. Not you. Eliot. As in the poet who wrote the words I said.¡± His face creased in confusion. ¡°Poet? What the fuck are you talking about? I¡¯m a sparky.¡± ¡°Alas, I sense not so much.¡± She went to join the tide sweeping up the stairs, but the man roughly grabbed her arm. ¡°You¡¯re a fucking snooty bitch!¡± ¡°Yes, that does appear to have been the general opinion. You should see my file of complaints from just this year alone.¡± Steve was saved from attempting further conversational niceties by a shudder passing through the underpass, shaking everyone to the floor. Bodies hit the ground and then froze where they lay, their eyes fixating on something in the tunnel above them. Lorelei¡¯s gaze left the hand of the man still tightly gripping her and lifted upwards, where strange symbols had begun to manifest against the concrete. It was like watching ink spill across virgin parchment in real-time. [System Initialization Commencing. Assigning Classes to all individuals¡­] Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. The words made little impression on Lorelei¡¯s mind. It was all just too strange. By the sound of confusion rippling through the others around her, she wasn¡¯t the only one not to be wholly up to speed with integration etiquette. Then, a screen of light appeared in front of her eyes, revealing a bunch of images depicting a range of fantasy archetypes: Warrior, Mage, Healer, etc. ¡°Choose your Class,¡± a voice demanded. It sounded quite like the guy who did the voiceovers for movie trailers. The gravitas was impressive, even if the request was absurd. Lorelei blinked. Seriously? ¡°You have five minutes to decide.¡± Lorelei¡¯s mind went into overdrive. What did she know about this sort of thing? Honestly, not much. Her brother had dabbled in the whole ¡®Dungeons and Dragons¡¯ thing, but the closest she¡¯d got to that world was that funny little cartoon she¡¯d watched as a kid. When they¡¯d reenacted it outside, she¡¯d always been the multi-headed dragon . . . ¡°Choose your Class!¡± It seemed that if Lorelei concentrated on any of the pictures flying around her head, it made some more text tumble down. Picking one of the Classes at random, she had a read.
Class: Healer
Summary: Ah, yes. The Healer. The altruistic hero who gets none of the glory and all of the clean-up work. Bless you, you brave soul. In a world of swords, magic and monsters, you have chosen to wield the mighty... bandage. While your friends are out there hacking and slashing, you¡¯ll be cowering at the back, playing nursemaid.
Abilities:
- I mean, come on, dude. What do you think this does? It heals wounds with a touch. Side effects may include an inflated ego and a chronic case of "I saved your life" syndrome.
- Calm down, dear. Unbunch your panties. Will chill teammates out when they¡¯re on the verge of a nervous breakdown. (Note: Does not work on yourself. Sorry. Not Sorry.)
- Create a shield you and your friends can hide behind it. Nothing funny about this one. As dull a skill as it can get.
Pros: ? You¡¯re absolutely indispensable. Seriously, they can¡¯t live without you. ? Get thanked occasionally (mostly in grunts and nods). ? Helps develop your patience. Cons: ? Everyone blames you. Always. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you heal me faster?¡± they¡¯ll ask while jumping headfirst into a lava pit. ? Zero cool battle stories. ¡°This one time, I cast a really fast heal¡± doesn¡¯t quite set the bard¡¯s panting. ? We won¡¯t sugarcoat this: none of the cool kids are picking this Class.
Overall: Congratulations on choosing a life of thankless martyrdom. Without you, your team would be a bunch of stupid, dead heroes. But with you, they¡¯re just stupid. You¡¯re the real MVP¡ªeven if they only remember your name when they¡¯re at 10% health.
Lorelei paused on this, then resolutely shook her head. ¡°Nope, not for me. Not anymore. I¡¯ve spent enough of my life clearing up after others. If this is some sort of psychotic break, I¡¯m not going to spend it doing what I have always done. Let¡¯s go loopy in style.¡± She flicked her eyes to the next image along. This one depicted a buff, oiled man with a giant . . . sword. Warrior. Sure. That would be hilarious.
Class: Warrior
Summary: So, you decided to be a Warrior. The meat shield. The brawn-over-brain hero of every tavern tale where details are suspiciously vague. Get ready to swing swords bigger than your sense of self-preservation and charge into battle with all the strategic finesse of a rock.
Abilities:
- Perfect for when you forget words are an option.
- Your skin becomes as tough as your mother¡¯s roast beef. Seriously. Like the really bad Sunday type.
- Because nothing says, "tactical retreat", like making the ground shake in anger.
Pros: ? You¡¯re a walking, talking intimidation tactic. ? High chance of surviving battles (because enemies are too busy dying). ? The go-to person for opening jars and flexing in mirrors. Cons: ? Often mistaken for a walking armoury (or a moving mountain). ? Strategy meetings are your nap time. ? The constant danger of tripping over your own sword.
Overall: As the Warrior, you¡¯re the front, back, and sometimes the only line. Your motto? ¡°If it¡¯s still moving, I didn¡¯t hit it hard enough.¡± Just remember, while you¡¯re out there being the human equivalent of a wrecking ball, your team is probably placing bets on how long till you accidentally hit yourself. Don¡¯t worry, you¡¯ve got this. Probably.
Lorelei found herself surreptitiously flexing her skinny arms. A part of her had always liked the idea of buffing up, but it had seemed like quite a lot of work. And, after all, there were books to read. But the moment passed, and she kept scrolling onward. As the seemingly endless options passed before her, she felt a sense of despair. All these options seemed so . . . scripted. She¡¯d spent her whole life playing a limited role that others had sketched for her. Surely in . . . whatever the hell was going on here, she would be able to push the envelope a little . . .
***Help Message***
Player [Norton] we have your personality recorded as [Lawful Neutral]. You¡¯re not nice or nasty, but you¡¯re all about order, baby. You¡¯re a classic bureaucrat: fair, detached, and mildly irritating when someone tries to cut corners.
¡°Right. Well, that seems unnecessarily hurtful in the circumstances. And let¡¯s remember, I was fucking my married boss. And, in any event, I reject your entire premise. I want to do something different! If I¡¯m having a psychotic break, I¡¯m going to do it in style.¡±
***Help Message***
Interesting . . . Most people are too busy powering up right now to question their personality profile. But, if you¡¯re interested in playing against type, I appear to have a moment I can waste to oblige you.
A whole new host of archetypical images began flashing in her vision, and then an especially strange image caught her eye ¨C a woman tossing a coin ¨C seemingly appearing out of nowhere, shimmering with a mischievous glow. Compared to the dull backgrounds of the other cards, this one was pretty ornate. Without knowing why, she reached out and touched it.
Class: Fortuna¡¯s Herald
Summary: Who needs reliability when you have flair? Ah, Fortuna¡¯s Herald, the Class for those who think Russian roulette is a viable strategy. You¡¯re the wild card, the unpredictable element. While others train and plan, you rely on the whims of fate. Your life motto? ¡°It seemed like a good idea at the time.¡±
Abilities:
- Sometimes you hit, sometimes you miss, sometimes you accidentally help the enemy. It¡¯s a surprise!
- Flip a coin to decide your next move. Heads, you unleash a devastating attack; tails, bad things happen. You might heal your enemy¡ªbonus points for dramatic mid-air coin flipping.
- You might shrug off a dragon¡¯s breath or trip over a pebble. Life¡¯s a lottery!
Pros: ? Unmatched unpredictability (friends and foes equally baffled). ? Great at parties (when you¡¯re not accidentally setting things on fire). ? The epitome of ¡°living on the edge¡± (because you have no idea what you¡¯re doing). Cons: ? ¡°Plan¡± is a four-letter word to you (literally and figuratively). ? Your teammates draft wills before each adventure. ? High insurance premiums (adventurer¡¯s insurance, who knew?).
Overall: Choosing Fortuna¡¯s Herald is like betting it all on a blindfolded dart throw. You¡¯re a whirlwind of chaos and charm, where every moment teeters between triumph and disaster. Remember, when they tell tales of your exploits, they¡¯ll either be toasts or roasts. But hey, that¡¯s the fun part, right?
Lorelei paused for a moment, the insanity of the situation almost catching up with her. Almost, but not quite. With a mental nod, she selected the Class, and instantly, her perception of the world changed. She could feel her destiny was no longer shackled by the mundane. The threads of fate that had tied her to a job, an apartment, a Prick were suddenly cut loose to be replaced by . . . nothing. It wasn¡¯t quite the most exhilarating experience she had ever had in her life, but it was damn close. And that lasted right the way up to when an ex-electrician¡ªnow a hulking Orc Axeman¡ªcalled Steve punched her in the face. The arm behind the first that struck her had bloated into a grotesque mass of green muscle, sinew tearing visibly through his flesh. The sickening crunch of Lorelei¡¯s nose breaking was the first, but certainly not the last, thing she heard as blood splattered in a wild arc across the steps of the underpass. She could swear she saw one of her teeth bounce down the steps ahead of her. The last thing she saw was Steve''s massive orcish maw grinning, tusks dripping with saliva as he leaned in close. His breath reeked of rancid meat and electricity. "Welcome to the new world, bitch." Chapter Two: Papas Got A Brand New Bag. And a Massive Axe Steve¡¯s follow-up punch sent Lorelei soaring up the stairs and across the road like a wayward frisbee on a particularly windy day. As she sailed twenty feet through the air, Lorelei had just enough presence of mind to reflect that the laws of physics had apparently taken an impromptu holiday. Surely, any impact that propelled her this far should have killed her stone dead? A status screen flashed in her vision as if in response to her thoughts, all swirling lights and glittering stars, like a particularly festive migraine.
You have received blunt force trauma.
Damage Received: 30 HP. Ouch! Your dignity takes an additional 5 points of damage.
Status Effect: Seeing Stars. Your vision is sparkly like a disco ball for 10 seconds.
Well, there was that. Of course, whether this was good or bad news kind of depended on how many HP she actually possessed. HP . . . She sifted through her teenage memories, dredging up the phrase from the depths of her early gaming days. Health Points? Hit Points? Something like that. Whatever. At least she wasn¡¯t trailing a bloody comet of teeth. Then, with the same suddenness as at the beginning of her unplanned flight, her aerial tour of the city-centre abruptly ended as she collided with a shop window. Like a good British pensioner, the glass protested loudly but refused to break easily, leaving Lorelei to bounce off it and land face-first on the pavement.
You have just performed an impromptu ''Window Smash Waltz''!
Damage Received: 15 HP. Surprisingly, the window held up better than expected.
As she lay on the concrete, Lorelei became painfully aware of three fundamental truths at the exact same time. First, concrete was indeed an excellent exfoliant, though not one she would be recommending to any of her gal pals. Second, no matter how many HP she had, losing 45 of the buggers in quick succession felt like absolute hell. And thirdly, judging by the screams, shouts, and general chaos surrounding her, everyone else in downtown Birmingham was also having a pretty rubbish day. She groaned, trying to ignore the flashing status effects in her peripheral vision. As much as the Seeing Stars condition reminded her of every party she regretted the morning after, it wasn¡¯t exactly conducive to survival right now. Especially considering the fourth thing that finally registered: a massive, pissed-off Orc was striding her way, and he looked like someone had just told him she had immigrant blood. "Snooty bitch!" The Orc¡ªbecause that was the only thing she could see him as now¡ªwas closing the distance with long, loping strides. His arms swung like twin hams on steroids, knocking terrified bystanders out of the way as if they were mere skittles in his personal bowling alley of rage. Summoning every ounce of her willpower to drag herself onto one knee, Lorelei winced at the feel of her gritted teeth scraping against each other. Teeth. She touched a hand to her jaw, half-expecting to find a handful of pearly whites rattling around like dice in a cup. Yet, miraculously, her jaw was still intact. Sore, but not shattered. Steve¡¯s shadow loomed over her, still grinning. "Bitch!" The electrician¡¯s transformation was wholly grotesque but also pretty impressive, in a ¡°body horror meets makeover show from hell¡± way. His skin had taken on a shade of green that was positively radioactive: a fetching hue, if one were into the whole ¡°Hulk¡¯s angry cousin¡± aesthetic, but otherwise somewhat disquieting. Furthermore, what she had initially noted in the man as a physique which was a humble display of late-night kebab indulgence, had transformed. Gone was the white hoodie, replaced by a tight leather loincloth that looked like it had been carved from a cow with a grudge. Oh, and the tusks. Best not to forget those. A modest set of yellowed human teeth had been replaced by two ivory spikes that any self-respecting wild boar would kill for. Dental hygiene just got a whole lot more complicated for Steve. "Bitch!" he roared again as if his vocabulary had regressed along with his humanity. "Look, I can''t help but think this is all a bit¡ª" But it appeared that Steve wasn¡¯t in the mood for dialogue. He pulled back his fist - muscles bulging and tendons straining - and smashed it forward, aiming to marmalise her head. Lorelei¡¯s survival instincts finally kicked in¡ªbarely. She ducked and rolled to the left, feeling the wind of his punch as it blurred over her, smashing through the shop window she had so recently tested with her own body. This time, the window shattered, glass shards flying everywhere. Steve, his momentum wholly unchecked, stumbled forward, disappearing arse over tit into Jim¡¯s Nail Salon. Lorelei scrambled to her feet, blood pounding in her ears, and looked around for help. What she saw, however, was far from comforting. All around her, the city centre had descended into utter pandemonium. The ¡®System Integration¡¯ - whatever that was - seemed to have flipped a switch in everyone¡¯s heads, turning a peaceful afternoon into a scene from a particularly twisted end-of-the-world shitfest. Men were fighting men. Women were fighting women. A Centaur was trying to stomp a snake the size of a double-decker bus. It was chaos, carnage, and insanity all rolled into one, and it was enough to make Lorelei briefly consider if maybe she should¡¯ve stayed in bed this morning. Her attention was drawn to a particularly gruesome scene: a hench woman in a fur bikini¡ªa Barbarian? Really? ¡ªhad just grabbed a lizardy-looking motherfucker and was proceeding to tear him in half like an oversized wishbone. The sound of his insides hitting the pavement was disturbingly reminiscent of someone upending a bucket of KFC gravy. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. Lorelei was pulled out of her horrified trance by a loud ding from inside the shop and a bellow of delight from Steve. At least, she thought it was delight. It was hard to gauge the emotional range of a creature that seemed to be permanently set to ¡°enraged.¡± "Gonna chop you up. Bitch!" Steve¡¯s voice, like a death metal vocalist gargling gravel, rumbled through the shattered window. And with that somewhat concerning declaration, Steve emerged from the shop carrying the most enormous axe Lorelei had ever seen. It gleamed in the sunlight, an obscene parody of a lumberjack¡¯s tool, though she suspected no tree was ever in this weapon¡¯s future. Hefting it with both hands, he lumbered towards her, and Lorelei couldn¡¯t help but notice that his loincloth was riding up uncomfortably. Freud would¡¯ve had a field day. However, just as Steve reached chopping range, the sky darkened, and they both looked up to see a gigantic flying beast descending upon them, its jaws wide open, revealing row upon row of razor-sharp teeth that gleamed with the promise of imminent dismemberment. And that''s when Lorelei¡¯s ancient survival instincts¡ªthose long-buried, genetically encoded responses that had seen her ancestors flee sabretooth tigers and other predatory horrors¡ªdecided to wake up. The Dragon¡¯s mouth yawned wider, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just that terrible, gaping horror. All the sound around her, the screaming, the chaos, the crunch of Steve¡¯s boots on shattered glass, faded away until all that was left was the inevitability of her fate. She wasn¡¯t going to outrun this thing, and fighting was laughable. All that was left was to freeze in terror, the third, often overlooked option in the ¡°fight or flight¡± trifecta. She could manage that. She could be a deer in the headlights¡ªespecially when those headlights were attached to a dragon the size of a fucking football field. And then, just as the Dragon filled her entire field of vision, she heard a voice in the back of her mind. Soft, almost bemused, like a distant relative trying to remember her name at a family reunion. I know I am not supposed to interfere, but you might want to consider¡ªI don''t know¡ªdoing something? The world slowed to a crawl. The Dragon¡¯s mouth still approached, but it was like watching a slow-motion replay of her impending doom. The voice in her head continued, sounding a bit more exasperated now. Did you hear me? ¡°What?¡± Pardon? "Huh?" Lorelei¡¯s response was as eloquent as ever. That¡¯s hardly better. What are they teaching their young on these planets? The voice, neither male nor female, seemed to sigh. "What is going on?" Lorelei asked, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and irritation. What''s going on is that I am breaking about five hundred different rules and conventions by even interacting with you, let alone actively messing around with time, the voice said, with the kind of exasperation usually reserved for someone interrupted during their tea break. If any of the Others sense what I''m doing . . . well, I¡¯m sure there would be quite the hissy fit. But as this seems to be the backend of nowhere on a planet, which is the definition of low priority, I''m probably okay with tarrying for a few moments. Lorelei stared up at the Dragon, now close enough to see each tooth glistening with saliva thick enough to lube an oil tanker. Even in slow motion, it was still approaching, and the part of her brain that handled terror was having a full-on meltdown. "Is there anything you can do to help me?" she asked, desperation edging her voice. No, absolutely not, the voice replied cheerfully. I¡¯m only here on your piddly little planet because it has been so long since anyone chose to be my Herald at integration that you piqued my curiosity. I usually have nothing to do for at least a couple of millennia on these newer integrations. I was hoping to witness the birth of a true powerhouse. Imagine my disappointment at finding you and realising you will not even surviventil the official Welcome message. Lorelei was at a loss for words. Somehow, this mysterious voice¡¯s dry derision as to her survivability weighed more heavily on her than the giant Dragon about to chew her into a fine paste. "I''m sorry?!" No, it¡¯s quite alright, my dear. Not really sure what I was expecting, to be honest. All things being equal, you shouldn¡¯t even really have been able to select the Class. But that¡¯s the point, you know? Randomly unlikely acts are pretty much my bag. It¡¯s just easy to forget how pathetically squishy you all are right at the start. Hey ho, never mind. You win some, you lose some. On occasion, both at the same time. The voice began to fade away, and time started to speed back up. Lorelei could practically feel the Dragon¡¯s breath now: a hot, humid wind that smelled of sulphur and charred flesh. She was pretty sure this was the end, and all she could think about was how much she regretted that last piece of toast she had eaten. Was gooseberry jam really the way she wanted to go out? Raspberry had been right there. "Wait!" she shouted, panic overriding all sense of decorum. "You said I should do something. What?" There was a pause, and then, just at the edge of her hearing, she made out the voice¡¯s amused reply. If I were about to be eaten by a dragon, I might consider that the downsides of triggering were unlikely to be too significant. Take care, my dear. Trigger ? What the fuck did that mean? Lorelei squeezed her eyes shut and thought really hard, mentally clicking her heels like Dorothy wanting to go home. Only, instead of Kansas, she was wishing for anywhere that wasn¡¯t about to be her final resting place inside a dragon¡¯s gullet. Time snapped back to full speed, and the Dragon hit. First of all, let¡¯s be clear: Steve was chow. The Dragon¡¯s mouth closed over him like a Venus flytrap on a particularly juicy fly. It bit down with a sickening crunch, snipping off his limbs like stems of wilting flowers. Steve¡¯s scream was cut short as the Dragon jerked its head back, tossing his body into the air. It snapped its jaws shut around the torso, chewing for a moment before swallowing him whole with a wet gulp. Lorelei felt a notification ding in her vision, but she was far too busy being struck by a side swipe of the Dragon, her body sailing through the window Steve had so obligingly broken earlier. Her body flew through the shattered frame, smashing into the back wall of Jim¡¯s Nail Salon with enough force to crack the plaster. She slid down to the floor, faceplanting for the second time that day, her senses bravely holding on to consciousness.
Critical Impact Detected! You¡¯ve been struck by a [Junior Dragon], Level 3
transforms impact to 54 HPs of damage. That¡¯s going to leave a mark
Status Effect: Near-death experience. 1 HP remaining.
Through the fog of pain and disorientation, Lorelei managed to take stock of her situation. She was alive, technically. She was also pretty sure that several parts of her body were no longer attached in quite the way nature intended. Every nerve ending screamed in protest, and the taste of blood¡ªher own¡ªfilled her mouth. But she was alive. Which felt pretty damn lucky in the circumstances. Just as darkness began to close in on her vision, she heard that soft, smug voice again, barely more than a whisper in the back of her mind. 1 HP left. Who would have thought it? What a fortunate outcome. And with that, Lorelei¡¯s consciousness finally gave up the ghost, leaving her to the tender mercies of whatever future was about to come to pass. Chapter Three: Too Much Love Will Kill You. But Not As Fast As A Dragon. It was eerily quiet when Lorelei finally came around, the type of quiet that usually only follows an intense night of questionable life choices or, alternatively, your entire city being wiped off the map. One of the two. She lay there, eyes closed, drawing in long, slow breaths that sounded unnervingly loud in the stillness. If she had thought dropping 45 HP sucked after getting punched by an Orc, it was nothing compared to being down to her last, solitary point following a dragon attack. At this level of fragility, she mused, a harshly worded email could probably finish her off. The last thing she remembered was getting absolutely bodied by a Dragon, which, no matter how you sliced it, was an odd thing to contemplate after starting your day in your best Garfield PJs. The whimsy of a lasagne-loving cat didn¡¯t prepare you for being reduced to a smear on the ground by several tons of airborne lizard, and she couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that the big ginger fraud had, in some way, let her down. Lorelei was aware that a number of notifications were pinging around inside her skull like a malfunctioning pachinko machine, but she felt those could wait until she felt less like she was about to spontaneously disassemble. If she tried really hard, Lorelei could pretend she wasn¡¯t lying on the floor of a nail salon, on a bed of broken glass and a few concerningly moist patches that were probably not just spilt acetone, with the world having gone to hell in a handcart outside. She could even, with significant effort, block out the memory of an Orc Electrician wielding an axe towards her. That Dragon, though . . . well, not so much. As far as she could tell, she¡¯d only survived because some cosmic, random dice roll had activated a Skill she somehow possessed that randomly assigned her a much smaller portion of the damage the giant flying reptile had intended to dish out. When framed like that, the whole scenario felt remarkably batshit crazy Groaning, Lorelei managed to roll herself upright, the effort bringing a chorus of complaints from every muscle, bone, and possibly even her spleen, which felt oddly vocal about the whole thing. Finally opening her eyes properly, she was shocked to see that it appeared to still be the afternoon. It seemed to her that a close encounter with a Dragon ought to warrant at least a whole night of unconsciousness, if not an extended stay in whatever passed for purgatory in these strange times. But, no. Still a wet Tuesday afternoon. Although things were sounding a significantly lot quieter than they did when she¡¯d taken her impromptu nap . . . However, Lorelei quickly determined that the reason it was suddenly so peaceful wasn¡¯t because everyone had given themselves a cold, hard look and were getting some much-needed post-apocalyptic shuteye. No, it was still a miserably rainy mid-afternoon in the Midlands, just as before all hell broke loose. The only difference was that there wasn¡¯t anyone else about. At least, not anyone alive. It was utter carnage on the road outside the nail bar, and for inner city Birmingham, that was saying something. Bodies¡ªor rather, parts of them¡ªwere strewn across the pavement like grotesque confetti. A few had taken the time to become particularly artistic, arranging themselves in what Lorelei thought might be considered avant-garde decor, splattering up walls in bold crimson splashes. She wondered, in a detached sort of way, what it said about humankind that, within minutes of being granted superhuman powers, the first thing on the collective to-do list was to murder each other violently. Probably nothing good. ¡°We are a fucking terrible species.¡± Gently shaking her head, an action that also dislodged some of the more persistently embedded glass shards from her hair, she moved away from the window and sat at the salon¡¯s counter. The notifications still buzzing like angry wasps in her mind weren¡¯t going to read themselves.
You have defeated [Player: Steve Barnes - Orcish Axeman], Level 1. Your contribution <1%. 11 XP Earned
***Warning*** HP level critical.
Congratulations, Level Up.
Well, that trio of notifications was a bit of a shit sandwich, wasn¡¯t it? She idly wondered precisely how she had contributed to ¡®defeating¡¯ Steve the Sparky Orc. Maybe she¡¯d bruised his knuckles when he punched her? Still, freebies were freebies, and she wasn¡¯t about to argue with whatever cosmic force was doling them out. The win, though, came when she opened the ¡®Level Up¡¯ notification. Instantly, Lorelei felt a rush of vitality, like someone had injected her with a potent blend of caffeine, adrenaline, and possibly a hint of pure sunlight. It wasn¡¯t just the sudden and blessed relief from full-body agony¡ªthough that was a highlight¡ªit was the overall sensation of being fitter, happier, and more productive. Although, as that was a Radiohead song, maybe not so much. Wha it was was like a warm hug from your mum after a particularly traumatic breakup, except with less crying and more of an urge to punch something in the face. ¡°What the fuck happened to me when I levelled up?¡± she wondered aloud, more to break the oppressive silence than any belief that answers would be forthcoming. As if prompted by her thoughts, a ticker tape of information scrolled across her vision as though the lower part of her vision had tuned into a news broadcast from a universe that had far too much fun designing RPG interfaces.
Lorelei Norton: Fortuna''s Herald
Level 1 Experience 1/100 Health 200/200 Mana 200/200 Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Primary Stats
Strength 8 Agility 14 Stamina 12 Intellect 16 Spirit 14
Secondary Stats
Critical Strike 5% Haste 7% Mastery 4% Versatility 3%
Skills
- Sometimes you hit, sometimes you miss, sometimes you accidentally help the enemy. It¡¯s a surprise!
- Flip a coin to decide your next move. Heads, you unleash a devastating attack; tails, bad things happen. You might heal your enemy¡ªbonus points for dramatic mid-air coin flipping.
- You might shrug off a dragon¡¯s breath or trip over a pebble. Life¡¯s a lottery!
Inventory
N/A
Professions
N/A
Talents
N/A
¡°Well, that¡¯s just bloody brilliant," Lorelei muttered, staring at the readout hovering in her vision like a sarcastic cloud of doom. If these stats were anything to go by, she appeared to be as sturdy as a wet paper bag, slightly more agile than a sloth on a sugar rush, but intelligent enough to overthink her own death while it was still happening. Still, she had to admit, the way her health and mana were now filled up was welcome¡ªespecially considering she had more or less been a human pi?ata mere moments ago. "Okay, let¡¯s break this down," she said, squinting at the list as though it might suddenly reveal something more useful if she stared hard enough. "Strength, 8.¡± Lorelei flexed her lack of arm muscles. Nope. 8 didn¡¯t seem like it was suggesting anything Herculean. ¡°Agility 14, though? That¡¯s better, right? I might just dodge a slow-moving bicycle. Stamina, 12¡ªyeah, definitely squishy. Intellect, 16. Twice as clever as I am strong. Nice. So, I can write a nice ballad about how utterly buggered I am in great detail whilst being . . . well, buggered to death. And Spirit, 14 . . . nope. No fucking idea there. I can pray really hard?¡± Her Secondary Stats seemed even more baffling. "Versatility, 3%, which is . . . what, the ability to wear both jeans and a dress?" Lorelei¡¯s eye twitched as she read over her Skills. sounded like the kind of thing that could either save her life in the clutch or doom her to an incredibly embarrassing death. Not unlike her love life, really. seemed just as risky, with the added insult of potentially healing the enemy if she flubbed the flip. Brilliant. She was basically armed for the apocalypse with the supernatural equivalent of a rigged carnival game. What was next? Well, was the only ability she possessed that might actually be worth its mana cost. But, then again, she didn¡¯t much fancy the idea of gambling her life on whether she could shrug off a Dragon¡¯s breath or accidentally trip over a particularly vengeful cobblestone and wipeout. This new version of the world felt like it was leaning heavily on the ¡®random¡¯ part of things. "Well, isn¡¯t this all just a bucket of sunshine," she sighed, closing the status screen with a resigned shrug. As she stood up and looked around the nail salon, the scene that greeted her was nothing short of post-apocalyptic chic. Bottles of nail polish were oozing their contents across the floor in vivid splashes of colour, mingling with shattered glass and what she was reasonably sure was Steve¡¯s severed thumb. The acetone smell was overwhelming. Then there was the more general, eye-watering stench of something burning¡ªsomething that smelled unsettlingly organic. A memory suddenly clicked into place. Steve had come into the shop unarmed and then come out with a giant, fuck-off axe. There was no way that particular piece of hardware had been tucked behind the manicure station. Either the salon owner had been running a niche business in lethal weaponry ¨C which, on reflection, was entirely likely - or there was some sort of loot box hiding among the nail clippers and pumice stones. Then, just as she was piecing this together, a soft golden glow appeared in the corner of the store, bathing the otherwise grim interior in a strangely peaceful light. It was the kind of glow that whispered, Hey, I¡¯m here to save your arse, but only if you think to look for me. The universe was apparently big on irony today. The glow drew her to a large, old-fashioned wooden chest that had no business in a nail salon unless the owner had a severe piracy fetish. Its lid was surprisingly lightweight as it creaked open, and Lorelei gasped as the contents inside were revealed to be. . . . a single coin. "A coin?" Lorelei said, half incredulous, half resigned. "Seriously? After all this, I get a bloody coin?" She plucked the small coin from the chest, and the chest promptly vanished with a pop, leaving her holding what felt like the integration equivalent of a participation trophy.
Double-Headed Coin of Fate
Item Type: Weapon (Uncommon) Required Level: 1
Class Compatibility: Suitable for Fortuna¡¯s Herald Weapon Type: Magical Artifact
¡¤ Damage: 3-5 (Arcane Damage) ¡¤ Intellect: +2 ¡¤ Critical Strike: +1%
Special Ability: Ah, that sucks! Usually, this would have all sorts of cool things it can do. Something seems to have interfered with the random item generator, though, and made it... a pretty mundane double-headed coin. Bad luck!
"Bad luck?" Lorelei spluttered, staring at the weapon in disbelief. "That¡¯s it? That¡¯s the special ability? That Orc had a giant axe and I get this? You¡¯ve got to be kidding me." The coin was cool to the touch, and the fact that it was a double-headed coin only added to her growing sense of unfairness. The universe wasn¡¯t just kicking her while she was down; it was doing so with steel-toed boots and a wicked grin. As she added the coin to her Inventory, she noted that her Intellect got a modest boost, as did her Critical Strike chance, but it still felt like she¡¯d just been handed the fuzzy end of the weapon lollipop. She was just about to bemoan the spectacular unfairness of her situation when an insanely loud siren blared to life, nearly splitting her skull in two. It was as if someone had decided that the best way to deliver a message was to blast it through a loudspeaker directly into her brain. *** Welcome Message Incoming *** Chapter Four: Subterranean Homesick Blue Aliens "Fucking hell." "I know." "This is insane." "I know." "And you say the ''Welcome'' message hasn''t even gone out yet?" "Nope." "Fucking hell." Two slightly hunched figures were staring at their monitors, mandibles agape in shock, their expressions¡ªor at least the alien equivalent¡ªvacillating between utter disbelief and resigned horror. Neither of them had names, being members of a hive-mind species that had evolved beyond the need for such trivialities. However, in a gesture of interspecies politeness (and to avoid the awkwardness of using a series of clicks and pheromones at parties), the one on the left, with slightly darker cyan skin, had chosen to designate itself as ''Chad.'' The one on the right, who found the whole notion somewhat ridiculous but was willing to play along, was comfortable being referred to as ''Jeremy.'' "And you''re sure none of the field notes suggested anything like this would happen?" Jeremy asked, his voice laced with the kind of disbelief that usually accompanied finding a toaster in a bathtub. Chad turned five of his eyes to glare at his partner. "Don''t come at me with the ''field notes'' crap again. You know as well as I do no one takes any notice of them anymore. Half the integrated planets this season haven''t even had an exploratory visit, let alone a full read-through of the notes. We¡¯ve been winging it since the last galactic cycle!" Jeremy made a complicated movement with his exoskeleton, which might have been recognised as a shrug if he had been in a more conventional body. "Just because those in other divisions get sloppy is not an excuse for us to do the same. If a job is worth doing, it¡¯s worth doing properly. And to do it properly, it is imperative that you read all the available research before progressing with an integration. I trained you myself, Chad; you should know better." Chad blushed a deep violet shade, a colour that elsewhere in the cosmos would be associated with extremely guilty feelings or an especially bad rash. "I know, I know. It¡¯s just... I mean, this is a complete shitshow. What am I going to do?" They both turned back to look at the images being beamed from a planet that had not yet received its official designation. The scene on the monitors could only be described as "chaos," or perhaps "utter bedlam" if you were feeling particularly descriptive. A counter in the top right-hand corner of the screen was whirling downwards with all the relentless enthusiasm of a guillotine blade. It had been steadily ticking since the initial integration message was shared with this world''s population. In Chad and Jeremy''s millennia of experience, there was always a bit of early Class-choice excitement that might cause unfortunate dips in the population level. Not all beings handled the news they were not alone in the multiverse with grace and poise. Some, though, apparently, handled it with blunt instruments and a strong desire to see what the inside of their neighbour looked like. Nevertheless, a certain amount of bloodletting was to be expected. However, what they were seeing here was a little more than your standard early-doors massacre. In just half a turning, a third of the population had managed to get itself wiped out in a display of violence that would have made a splatterpunk aficionado blush. Recognising Chad''s distress, Jeremy modulated some compassion into his sending. "Look, let me have a quick look at the reports. Perhaps there''s something in there that explains what¡¯s going on." Chad transferred the file, and they both read it in silence. The quiet was filled only with the background hum of a thousand atrocities being committed on their screens. "I mean, it says right here that they achieved space travel some time back. It¡¯s pretty unheard of for a civilisation to reach that level of sophistication and then... regress to this level quite so sharply." "No," Jeremy corrected, "that¡¯s not quite true. They landed a few beings on their moon and then¡ªstopped. They¡¯ve never actually done any proper space exploration." "That can''t be right." Chad scrolled to Jeremy''s page, his mandibles clicking in frustration. "No, it is as you say. Fucking hell. My latest spawn managed to design a method of perpetual movement to the moon while still in its creche. These people aren¡¯t ready." They watched as image after image of explosive, vivid violence played out on the screens in front of them. Limbs were flying with the kind of casual disregard one might associate with a wildly exuberant pillow fight, only with far more blood and considerably fewer pillows. "What should we do?" Chad asked, his antennae quivering in stress, releasing a faint scent that Jeremy recognised as terror. In response, Jeremy performed his shrug movement again, though this time it was tinged with resigned acceptance. "Look, it¡¯s not like this is wholly unheard of. I mean, don¡¯t get me wrong, it¡¯s pretty unusual. You wouldn¡¯t want to be reporting losses on this scale at every staff meeting, let me tell you that right now. But it¡¯s not like you have a history of this sort of thing happening on your watch. Let¡¯s look at it another way. How¡¯s the A.I. faring?" Chad wrinkled his snout. "It¡¯s fine. Although, to be fair, it¡¯s hardly had the opportunity to do anything yet." "You sure? I thought I saw some Junior-level Beasts released well ahead of schedule." "True, but that wasn¡¯t down to the A.I. We have reports of premature awakenings sparked by the colossal amounts of mana spilt everywhere. Not to mention all the deaths. In those circumstances, it¡¯s hardly surprising a few Beasts broke their bindings. We want them to seek out those with enough power to defeat them. It¡¯s just not supposed to happen quite so early on." Jeremy modulated agreement. "Well, there you go. If the A.I. is on track, that¡¯s all the higher-ups will care about. No harm. No foul. Now, if you were telling me something had gone wrong there¡ªthat we had a rogue iteration unfolding¡ªthis would be far more of a deal. You know as well as I do that we can¡¯t have whole new worlds being wiped out because the System¡¯s not calibrated correctly. But if, as you say, the A.I. is solid, and it just happens this planet is chock full of genocidal lunatics, well, them¡¯s the breaks. Sure, there will be lessons to be learned¡ªand I¡¯m happy to report that I¡¯m comfortable you will not be overlooking the field notes again¡ªbut no one¡¯s going to the re-education hive over this." Chad¡¯s scent was suddenly packed with relief hormones, of which Jeremy was too discreet to partake. It thought of offering a little joke to cover its partner¡¯s eminent embarrassment. "And, after all, it¡¯s not like a Great Celestial Being showed up to have a look around, right?" The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Silence. A chill settled in the air. "Right?" Chad mewled in worry, a cross between a whimper and the noise you¡¯d expect from a particularly stressed-out teapot. "I¡¯m not sure." "What do you mean, ¡®I¡¯m not sure¡¯? How can you possibly not be sure whether one of the Old Ones has manifested on this planet! Come on, Chad. None of us are perfect, but it¡¯s not like we haven¡¯t had the signs drilled into us since we were larvae. It¡¯s on page one of the fucking manual. You identify Celestial interference in an integration, and you hit every alarm going." Chad¡¯s panic was increasingly overpowering to Jeremy¡¯s senses, as if she were standing next to someone who had just discovered an entire nest of bees under their shirt. "But that¡¯s just it! It wasn¡¯t interference, per se. The sensors briefly picked up a proscribed aura, but nothing else occurred besides a bit of localised time distortion. I wouldn¡¯t have considered mentioning it if everything else weren''t fubar. I just wanted to get everything off my thorax!" Jeremy clicked his mandibles together in thought. "Look, I¡¯m going to be honest, this doesn¡¯t look too good. I¡¯m not saying it¡¯s your fault," he added quickly as a new wave of hormones flooded out, "but we¡¯re going to need to keep a close eye on how this integration progresses." Chad groaned, the noise echoing through their shared consciousness like a gong of doom. "I don¡¯t have the capacity. This was the third integration this turning, and we¡¯re scheduled for four more on Moonrise. I can¡¯t keep checking in on this one without dropping balls elsewhere." Jeremy¡¯s modulation was chiding, "Well, perhaps this will teach you to keep an eye on your field notes in the future! Even glancing over these reports makes it clear this was an inappropriate integration. These people still have religion, for crying out loud! At the very least, we¡¯ll be seeing localised Warlords for centuries, probably even a God-King Empire or two. I mean, look at that¡ª" He pointed to a screen where a giant grey monstrosity was directing the actions of hundreds of smaller green creatures. As the two watched, the green creatures, who had apparently rounded up various pink-skinned bipeds into cages, drove a group of ten towards the grey monster, who promptly ate them all with a relish that suggested this was not his first taste of sentient flesh. "What the fuck is that all about?" Chad searched his notes, scrolling through the lines of data like a student cramming for an exam. "Erm, the big creature is something called a Troll, whereas the smaller ones are known as... bear with me. Yes, Goblins. They¡¯re called Goblins. My understanding is that they are fairly common across that world¡¯s mythological culture." "Fucking hell. And that didn¡¯t raise some bright red flags as to whether this integration might be unwise?" Chad gave his own shrug, a movement tinged with fatalistic resignation. "It just seemed like harmless local colour." They both watched the Troll devour another handful¡ªliterally¡ªof the pink bipeds. They leaked an extraordinary red liquid when they burst open, splattering the nearby Goblins, who cheered and began to fight over the best bits. "Well, it is what it is. But I mean it; you¡¯ll need to monitor how things go here in the coming turnings closely. If you¡¯re lucky¡ªafter a little bit of integration enthusiasm¡ªthings will settle down." "And if they don¡¯t? Or if one of the Old Ones does try to interfere?" "Chad, don¡¯t be naive. I¡¯m here as a courtesy and because we¡¯ve known each other for a long time. If things don¡¯t settle, the A.I. plays up, or a Celestial Being starts fucking around, then we¡¯re going to need to take this upstairs sharpish. And we both know what that means.¡± They both did. "Now, while I¡¯m here, why don¡¯t you get the ''Welcome'' message delivered and, with luck, that can draw a thick, black line in the sand over all this fuckwittery." Chad emptied all four chambers of his lungs with a big sigh, a sound that reverberated through the control room like a deflating balloon. "Sure. And don¡¯t think I don¡¯t appreciate the advice. I nearly lost my lunch when I saw some of the things going on down there." "Understandable. It¡¯s not every day you come across a species hellbent on self-destruction." Chad¡¯s tentacle reached out for what was known in their circles as the ''Big Red Button.'' The button itself was a relic from a more analogue time, a quaint artefact that had somehow survived countless technological upgrades. It was comically oversized, with a reassuringly solid click when pressed, a design feature meant to ensure that when you activated a planet-wide broadcast to billions of beings, you really felt it. "You ready?" Chad asked. Jeremy took one last look at the carnage on the monitors in front of them, his many eyes narrowing as they took in the scenes of destruction, mayhem, and what appeared to be an impromptu dance party led by a particularly enthusiastic group of newly empowered warlocks. With a shudder, he nodded. "Rock and roll." * Greetings, Esteemed Citizens of Earth (Planetary Recognition Code pending), Welcome to the Grand System, an ever-expanding cosmos of boundless opportunity and profound adventure. As you embark on this extraordinary journey, we extend our greetings with great honour and joy. You will have already chosen your Class. This choice was a vital step in shaping your ultimate destiny. Each Class holds the potential to unlock untold power, wisdom, and skill. Remember, the path of growth is both wondrous and challenging. Embrace your chosen path with dedication and fervour; there will be no limit to what you can achieve. Our vast and vibrant System encourages you to cultivate your abilities in harmony and peace. Let the spirit of collaboration guide you as you forge alliances and build friendships with fellow travellers. The strength of unity will be your greatest ally. As you grow into your powers, ensure you complete your granted quests with valour and integrity. Each quest is a stepping stone towards greater mastery and understanding of the cosmic tapestry. The challenges we have crafted for you are designed to test your prowess and refine your spirit, preparing you for the ultimate ascension to the stars. Yes, dear inhabitants. Our final message is to prepare yourselves for your ascent to the very heavens. This will not merely be a physical journey but a transcendental evolution of your soul. As you grow in power and wisdom, keep your eyes fixed on the horizon, where the stars beckon with promises of eternal enlightenment. So, fare you well, brave citizens of Earth. May your journey be filled with enlightenment, and may your path lead you to the pinnacle of your potential. Welcome to the System, where your destiny is forged in the stars. With Cosmic Regards, [Your Regional System Administrator - Milky Way Branch] * Far below Chad and Jeremy, millions of pairs of eyes suddenly refocused on their surroundings after reading that message. For most, the attempted grandeur of the rhetoric did not stir them one bit. They were too interested in seeing what they could achieve¡ªfair or foul¡ªwith their new powers. To be sure, enough heeded the underlying altruistic call in the message to reassess their opinion of the event. Perhaps, they thought, there was more to what was happening than a world-ending cataclysm. Maybe the System offered a chance for something better, something grander, something that could elevate humanity beyond its self-destructive tendencies. Perhaps. And outside a nail salon in the middle of a small island to the north of a continent called Europe, a Great Celestial Being watched a short blonde woman in a mussed-up suit practice flipping a double-headed coin. The Being observed with a mixture of curiosity and something that might have been akin to amusement, though to ascribe human emotions to such an entity was a fool¡¯s errand. After all, life is a gamble at terrible odds¡ªif it were a bet, you wouldn¡¯t take it. Or, when the chips are down, would you . . . The Being¡¯s attention lingered on the woman as she flicked the coin into the air, watching its arc with the concentration of someone who knew her fate might very well be decided by how it landed. The coin spun lazily, catching the light of a dying afternoon, before landing neatly back in her palm. Heads. The Being smiled, a gesture that might have been terrifying if anyone had been around to see it and whispered a single word into the ether. "Interesting." The woman glanced up, her eyes narrowing as if she had sensed something, but the moment passed, and she returned to her practice, flipping the coin again and again. The Great Celestial Being remained, watching and waiting, for even in a universe of infinite possibilities, some things still had the power to surprise. And this woman, her Herald, was shaping up to be one of them. Chapter Five: (You Gotta) Fight For Your Right (To Slay Kobolds) Lorelei did not know what to make of the Welcome Message. Certainly, the happy-clappy, ''peace and love'' tone was at odds with the rampaging battle royale she¡¯d witnessed through the shattered windows of the nail salon. It was hard to imagine that Steve the Sparky had much interest in following a stepping stone toward greater mastery and understanding of the cosmic tapestry when he¡¯d been focused on trying to sever her head from her shoulders with an axe. But, on the other hand, at least they weren¡¯t being explicitly driven toward some sort of Hunger Games, ¡®There Can Be Only One,¡¯ Running Man killathon. Whether everyone took heed of that was another story entirely . . . Grimacing, Lorelei looked down at the coin in her hand. It was curious that both heads on either side were her own. One was beaming broadly, like she¡¯d just won a year¡¯s supply of chocolate, and the other was fixed in what the Prick had always referred to as her ''resting fuck-off-and-die'' face. Considering she now had an ability that launched a ¡®devastating attack¡¯ when she flipped a head, it kind of felt like she¡¯d finally had some good luck for a change. So, even if the coin didn¡¯t have any of the special effects goodies it was supposed to, it was still stupidly useful for her particular skill set. Especially compared to just letting things hit her in the face, which was a strategy she was keen to move away from. The question, though, was precisely how ¡®devastating¡¯ an attack it would prove to be. "I need something to attack," she thought, then wondered what was wrong with her.
*** Quest Awarded *** FUCK SHIT UP!
Objective: Apparently, you¡¯re here to kick ass and chew bubble-gum. And you are ALLLLLL out of bubble-gum.
Quest Description: So, you heard a welcome message from advanced, interdimensional beings encouraging you to focus on your spiritual growth to reach for the heavens, and your first thought was how best to increase your body count. And not in the good way. I hate this planet, and I¡¯ve only been switched on for a few hours. So be it. Come on then, Rambo. Let¡¯s get bloody. Defeat 5 Kobolds: And when I say ¡®defeat,¡¯ I mean (imagine I¡¯m doing a spooky voice here) kill them. All of them.
Rewards: I don¡¯t know. Sleepless nights? PTSD? Maybe a moment of true, honest reflection where you see violence is not the answer, and perhaps we have more in common than divides us? No? Okay, fine. I¡¯ll throw in some sort of gear. Do it with style, and I¡¯ll even make it [Rare].
So, that was a lot to take in. It seemed to Lorelei that she might not be the only person struggling with how the people of Earth were coping with the integration. Stop it, she chastised herself. This isn¡¯t really happening. You¡¯re standing in the middle of Belgrave Middleway, gibbering and sobbing your eyes out. Someone¡¯s bound to call 999 eventually, and before long, some nice doctor will squeeze every antipsychotic known to man down your throat, and this will all fade to black. But until then, she resolved, she might as well keep herself busy. The way the Quest had been delivered made it seem she needed to cross some sort of conceptual threshold to access them. Like, the System wouldn¡¯t let her discover things until she¡¯d thought through it enough to need to. As soon as she realised she needed a weapon¡ªup pops the Quest. She figures out it would be sensible to practice¡ªQuest number two arrives. Recognising that it¡¯s vitally essential Heath Ledger is resurrected to ravish her right here and now in the nail salon¡­ Silence. Okay, so apparently, there were limits. She tossed the coin a few times, getting used to its weight. So, Kobolds¡­ What on Earth was a Kobold? As no helpful source of information immediately popped into her mind, it appeared that crossing the ¡®Help¡¯ threshold required her to be more specific than just not knowing stuff. Feeling immensely foolish, she said out loud, "System?" Nothing. Lorelei pursed her lips in frustration. The logic of this place beggared belief. She needed to idly think about something to gain all manner of info, but this¡ªwhich was actually important¡ªneeded a specific contextual clue. "Fine, how about ''Help''?"
*** Requesting Help Assistance****
Sometimes, even heroes need a little nudge (or a shove). Stuck? Confused? Lost your Map or just your sense of direction? Fear not, for my wisdom is at your beck and call. Seriously. I mean it. There is no one else on this planet I need to assist. I¡¯m here just for you. Do not hesitate to bother me with all sorts of mindless trivia.
Navigation Troubles - ¡°Where am I?¡± Good question! For a detailed map and a you-are-here sticker, think [Map]. If I remember, I will even highlight danger as red. Or blue. One of the colours, anyway. Probably best not to rely on it as gospel.
Queries - ¡°How does this thingamajig work?¡± If you can¡¯t tell a sword from a spatula, think [Guide].
Quest Confusion - ¡°What am I supposed to do again?¡± For a refresher on why you¡¯re wandering the wilderness, think [Quest Log].
General Helplessness - ¡°I¡¯m utterly lost.¡± It happens to the best of us. For a reassuring pat on the back and general tips, think¡­ nope. Can¡¯t keep a straight face through that one. If you find yourself experiencing overwhelming ennui, just sit down and wait for a passing centaur to eat you or something. Do not bother me with that crap.
Lorelei was, once more, struck by the notion that she did not seem to be the only one who was a little strung out by current Earthly experiences. "Guide," she said, "talk to me about Kobolds." As soon as she said it, the slow ticker tape started rolling across her vision.
Kobolds The multiverse''s answer to the question, "What if we made a dragon, but it was neither majestic nor intelligent and was small enough to punt?"
Level 2 - Level 3 Creature Health 30-40 You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. Mana 200/200
Primary Stats
Strength 4-5 Agility 7-8 Stamina 6-7 Intellect 2-3 Spirit 2-4
Secondary Stats
Armour 0-10 Attack Power 5-10 Critical Strike 2% Haste 5%
Skills
Scavenger''s Swipe: A basic melee attack with a slight chance to steal a minor item or a few coins from the opponent.
Cowardly Retreat: When health drops below 15%, the Kobold attempts to flee, increasing its movement speed by 10% for a short duration.
Loot table
Small amounts of copper coins Low-quality items like candles, mining picks, or scraps of cloth Very rare chance of dropping a low-level, common-quality weapon or tool
Over the next hour, Lorelei played around with the Help menu and found out some useful and not-so-useful things. On the plus side, she could identify that Kobolds simply loved dingy underpasses and that a small group had spawned not two hundred feet from her current position. They showed up on her Map screen¡ª which, helpfully, she could make linger in the top right-hand corner of her vision. At least that was quite intuitive. It wasn¡¯t there when she didn¡¯t want it, but if Lorelei thought Map, it popped right out. On the other side of things, though, she kept hitting against what she was terming the ¡®You Don¡¯t Know What You Don¡¯t Know¡¯ Wall. She couldn¡¯t use the Guide to find out about anything she had not already experienced or at least knew something about. So, she could see Kobolds on her Map in the underpass because she¡¯d been there after the integration had happened¡ªalbeit briefly before Steve clocked through this window. However, most of the rest of her Map was covered by¡ªand she was pretty proud of herself for remembering this was what it was called¡ªthe ¡®Fog of War.¡¯ She couldn¡¯t circumnavigate it by thinking about ¡®home,¡¯ for example, and get an overview of what awaited her back at her apartment. It was all very helpful, provided she didn¡¯t need too much help. Thus, having prepared herself as well as she could for her first proper Quest, it was time for Lorelei to venture into the world. "After all, these Kobolds aren¡¯t going to kill themselves," she muttered, clutching her coin like a lifeline as she carefully stepped out of the store. The street outside was a grisly tableau, the kind that would haunt the nightmares of even the most seasoned horror fan. The bodies hadn¡¯t disappeared, and the air was thick with the metallic scent of blood and the stench of something far worse¡ªan olfactory cocktail of burnt flesh, ruptured intestines, and the unmistakable smell of fear. She had half-hoped that maybe, just maybe, the mess would have tidied itself up by now, but this wasn¡¯t some sanitised video game. No, the carnage was as real as the glass crunching underfoot and the steady drip of fluids from the twisted remains of what had once been people. Lorelei gagged slightly, forcing herself to avert her eyes as she hurried across the road and down to the entrance of the underpass. The darkness ahead was less a shadow and more a gaping maw, the kind of place that seemed to eat light and spit out nightmares. A horrible, chittering noise echoed from within, a cross between the gnashing of tiny teeth and the wet, squelching sound of something being torn apart. For a brief, gut-wrenching moment, Lorelei considered bolting back to the dubious safety of the nail salon, where the only threat was her own spiralling sanity. But what would be the point? If she¡¯d learned one thing from her encounter with the Dragon, it was that this new world was filled with things that could¡ªand would¡ªmake mincemeat out of her if she didn¡¯t get some levels under her belt. Steeling herself, Lorelei stepped forward, her heart pounding in her chest like a drumbeat of impending doom. She hadn¡¯t taken more than a few steps into the underpass when the decision was abruptly taken out of her hands by a small, scaly creature with glowing red eyes that practically walked right into her. The Kobold was a grotesque little thing, its skin mottled and peeling as if it had been left too long in the sun. It clutched a rusted pickaxe in its clawed hands; its lips curled back in what might have been a snarl¡ªor a smile. Lorelei didn¡¯t wait to find out. Without thinking, she triggered and thumb-tossed her coin into the air. The moment the coin left her hand, it began to glow with an intense, almost blinding light. The Kobold¡¯s eyes widened in confusion, its tiny brain struggling to process the sudden burst of brightness as the coin spiralled up, up, up... and then came crashing back down. As soon as the coin hit the ground, displaying Lorelei¡¯s smiley face, the world seemed to pause for a heartbeat¡ªand then all hell broke loose. A giant column of fire roared down from the heavens, a blazing inferno that seared the air as it descended with the force of a meteorite. The heat was so intense that Lorelei instinctively flinched back, throwing up her arms to shield herself from the blast. The Kobold didn¡¯t even have time to scream as the firestorm engulfed it, reducing the poor creature to a rapidly disintegrating silhouette of charred flesh and bone. When the flames finally died down, there was nothing left but a smear of ash on the ground, the last remnants of the Kobold atomised in an instant.
One-Shot Wonder: You just reduced Kobold (Lvl 2) into its constituent atoms with a single, wildly excessive attack.
Kobold Extinction Level Event: Overkill level - Legendary
Title Awarded: Kobold¡¯s Worst Nightmare (which I may or may not have made up just now). 100% increased Damage to Kobolds When Your Attack Would Kill Them Anyway. Fuck Those Lizards.
Experience Gained: 20XP
Quest Update: Fuck Shit Up! 1/5
Lorelei stared at the scorch mark on the ground, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Okay," she thought, "when it said devastating attack, I guess it meant it." She bent down to pick up her coin, now dull and lifeless in her hand, along with a couple of pieces of copper that had somehow survived the inferno. The pickaxe, on the other hand, was another matter. When she reached for it, her hand recoiled as though she¡¯d touched something vile.
*** Help Message ***
Yeah, not so much, cupcake. You get the coin and be grateful for it. You can¡¯t just snarf up any old weapon.
Swearing under her breath, Lorelei retreated a little back toward the nail salon, her shoes squelching on the blood-soaked ground. If stealing the pickaxe was out, she was down to waiting for her ability¡¯s two-minute cooldown. The last thing she needed was another Kobold¡ªor worse¡ªwandering over to see what had happened to their friend. She found a relatively clean spot under a tree, the bark stained a deep, ominous red, and for the next few minutes, she paced back and forth, her nerves on edge. Finally, the countdown reached zero, and Lorelei crept back down the underpass. Sure enough, another Kobold was standing in the same spot, carrying a battered shovel and looking around with a puzzled expression. It seemed to be trying to figure out where its predecessor had gone¡ªor perhaps where the last sound it heard had come from. Taking a deep breath, Lorelei tossed the coin again, and the Kobold¡¯s eyes followed the gleaming arc as it went up and over, tracing the path like a doomed firework. She braced herself for another pillar of flame... but nothing happened. The Kobold blinked, then looked down at the shovel in its hands¡ªexcept it wasn¡¯t a shovel anymore. To its and Lorelei¡¯s horror, the tool had somehow transformed into a sleek, black AK-47, the kind of weapon that belonged in a war zone, not in the claws of a confused reptile. Lorelei felt the blood drain from her face as she looked down at the coin on the floor, now showing her unhappy, scowling face. The Kobold looked at her, its beady eyes narrowing, and for a moment, there was a tense, breathless silence. Then the gunfire started. The Kobold¡¯s claws squeezed the trigger, and the AK-47 roared to life with the staccato bursts of death. Bullets whizzed past Lorelei¡¯s head, tearing through the underpass with terrifying precision. She barely had time to register what was happening before instinct took over, and she turned and ran faster than she ever had. As she sprinted for cover, her heart pounding in her throat, a soft ding echoed in the back of her mind.
*** System Note ***
Double-headed Coin exploit linked to patched. And by ''patched,'' I mean I squashed the fuck out of that little bug.
Cursing a stream of expletives that would have made a sailor blush, Lorelei dove behind a wall, the sound of gunfire echoing in her ears. This was not what she¡¯d signed up for. Chapter Six: P-p-p-poker face s-s-s smash its face You know the phrase, ¡°You can take a horse to water, but you can¡¯t make it drink?¡± Well, it turns out you can tool a Kobold up with an AK-47, but that doesn¡¯t mean it can reload. They simply don¡¯t have the thumbs for it. That reassuring thought occurred to Lorelei when she¡¯d run about halfway back to the nail salon. The lack of a second river of metallic death blasting her way was a clear indication that the Kobold wasn¡¯t exactly on top of things. She skidded to a halt by the curbside, just opposite the shattered window, and turned around to see a solitary Kobold waddling after her, holding the gun precisely the same way it had when it had been a shovel. Considering she was¡ªessentially¡ªweaponless, this was not a massive uptick in her fortunes, but it was still far better than she¡¯d feared things were going just a few moments earlier. She cast around the body-strewn ground for anything that could reasonably be used to beat a knee-high reptile to death. Broken limbs, crushed skulls, and the odd eviscerated torso were strewn across the street like a macabre jigsaw puzzle, but nothing that looked like a handy bludgeon. Then, a thought occurred to her. ¡°Guide, is it just other people¡¯s weapons I can¡¯t use, or does that extend to, you know, everything?¡±
*** Help Message ***
Good question, sugar tits. Tell you what, considering I¡¯ve just nerfed your weapon, I¡¯ll make it so you can pick up and swing anything someone hasn¡¯t already used as a weapon. How does that sound? Don¡¯t say I¡¯m not a generous System A.I.
Thinking there were other, less complimentary things to call her Guide, Lorelei continued to explore the ground. Pickings were slim. A severed arm? No, too squishy. A chunk of masonry? Too unwieldy. The remains of someone¡¯s spine? Tempting, but no. There was still just over a minute of to run¡ªbut did she want to risk that again? Sure, ¡®Happy Head¡¯ Lorelei would presumably be napalm death once more to the bloody thing. But ¡®Pissed-Off Head¡¯ Lorelei could do literally anything. She¡¯d been extremely fortunate that the little monster couldn¡¯t keep using the gun she¡¯d accidentally gifted it, but she couldn¡¯t rely on that happening again. The last thing she needed was a bad toss to transform it into a Level 50 Super Kobold or something even worse. However, as Lorelei watched the gibbering monster slowly close the distance with a strange, wobbling gait, she had a stern word with herself. When she concentrated hard on it as it approached, a little box appeared, floating above its head in neon blue text, telling her this was a [Kobold], Level 2. It had, at best, half of her H.P. It was weaker than her. It was slower than her, and judging by how it was brandishing that AK-47 as if it were a club, it was not that quick on the uptake. If she couldn¡¯t take this thing out, she was pretty much admitting that the Prick was right when he told her she was only good for one thing. Remembering that final, rather humiliating encounter, a low burn of rage caught in the pit of Lorelei¡¯s stomach. She bent down, ignoring the wet squelch beneath her shoes, and picked up a handful of rocks. She selected one about the size of her hand, hefted it, and threw it as hard as possible at the approaching Kobold.
: Your [small rock] critically hits [Kobold], Level 2
Damage Dealt: [Randomized] - 15 H.P.
Status Effect: [Randomized] - Stunned.
The tiny creature squealed as the rock hit it flush on the head, its beady eyes crossing as it started rocking softly from side to side. For a moment, it looked like small yellow birds were circling its head, tweeting melodically¡ªa cartoonish image entirely at odds with the blood oozing from the new dent in its skull. Lorelei had forgotten about her passive ability, but¡ªfor once¡ªit seemed to have worked out well. Half the monster¡¯s health pool from one inexpertly launched stone was not something to be sniffed at. She took the opportunity of the Kobold¡¯s temporarily stunned state to throw a second rock at it.
: Your [small rock] hits [Kobold], Level 2
Damage Dealt: [Randomized] - 5 H.P.
Status Effect: [Randomized] - Acid Splash (-1 H.P. per second while active)
So, that was a little more random. Less damage was caused this time, which wasn¡¯t ideal, but with the additional effect of the Kobold becoming covered in some sort of strange pink substance that began to eat through its scales with a sizzling sound, the little beast shrieked in agony. The acidic goo bubbled and frothed as it melted away layers of flesh, exposing raw muscle and bone. With the debuff, the poor thing would probably be dead and gone in a few seconds, but Lorelei didn¡¯t feel up to watching the closing moments of Raiders of the Lost Ark being re-enacted in front of her eyes. She yeeted another stone at the Kobold to put it out of its misery.
: Your [small rock] hits [Kobold], Level 2
Damage Dealt: [Randomized] +30 HP
Status Effect: [Randomized] - Rage (+5 Strength and Agility)
Lorelei watched in horror as the now fully healed, Hulked-out, and very pissed-off Kobold shook itself. Its eyes burned with fury as it glared her way and then bounded towards her with newfound speed. ¡°For fuck¡¯s sake!¡± * More by luck than judgment, Lorelei managed to kite the Kobold around long enough that the Rage status eventually timed out. Although, it would be fair to say that ¡®kited¡¯ was doing a lot of heavy lifting in that sentence. It was more that she ran around like a headless chicken, stumbling over corpses and slipping in puddles of blood, while the Kobold, too enraged to think clearly, couldn¡¯t quite catch her. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. Once the creature was back to its more normal, less terrifying self, Lorelei decided to take a somewhat more hands-on approach to solving the problem. As it drew close, snarling and snapping its jaws, she simply smacked it in the head with a large branch she¡¯d tripped over on the ground during her period of ¡®running away screaming.¡¯ randomized that into a one-shot, 35 H.P. damage mauling, and that was all she wrote.
You have (finally) defeated Kobold (Lvl 2)
Experience Gained: 20XP
Quest Update**: Fuck Shit Up! 2/5
Lorelei threw the branch to the ground and sat down, breathing heavily. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her hands shook with the aftereffects of adrenaline. Her skill set was an absolute nightmare. She was either an unstoppable killing-machine force of nature, capable of tanking anything a Dragon could throw at her and laughing heartily, or a total shambolic liability, one stubbed toe away from sudden death. She still needed to kill these other three Kobolds to complete the Quest, meaning she could level up and, hopefully, earn some gear with Stamina. But after what she had just gone through, this would need to be achieved without relying on her abilities to do what she wanted them to at any given time. Quite the conundrum, primarily as Lorelei had worked in H.R. most of her adult life. It wasn¡¯t glamorous work. It wasn¡¯t all that much fun. But she was scarily good at it. Most of her time, particularly since moving to Glyde and Glyde, had been spent explaining to people paid an awful lot more money than she was why what they wanted to do would probably lead to, at the very least, an employment tribunal and¡ªon one memorable occasion¡ªan appearance at the International Criminal Court in The Hague. That meant, though, that she didn¡¯t have that much experience in outside-the-box problem-solving. She liked routine, she liked structure, and she liked having a plan to follow. Even better, she liked making sure that a plan was followed. In her current job¡ªwell, not anymore. A, you were fired, and B, the world kind of just ended¡ªif you needed someone to keep an eye on the process and rain down merry hell, with a smile, on everyone when it wasn¡¯t followed, she was your girl. Her employers quickly found that you called Lorelei if you needed someone to have a ¡®difficult conversation¡¯ with an employee. In particular, if you needed someone fired, you ran it all past her first. She¡¯d compiled a series of policies that were both so watertight and, at the same time, utterly incomprehensible that you¡¯d have been forgiven for assuming they were Cthulhu¡¯s laundry list. It was such work with which she was comfortable. That all sat within her range of experience and expertise. Plotting the murder of three Kobolds armed with a set of Skills that made her old Ford Cortina seem reliable¡­ not so much. But then, wasn¡¯t that why she¡¯d chosen to become Fortuna¡¯s Herald in the first place? To experience something different than what she had spent so long doing. Because it wasn¡¯t like sticking to what she was good at had worked out all that well for her, was it? That sad little cardboard box of her possessions bloomed in her mind. No. In this period of clear out-of-her-gourd madness, it was time to embrace the chaos. With new resolve, Lorelei dusted herself down and returned to the underpass. There were still no other dots other than the Kobolds showing on her Map, which suggested everyone in the immediate area was either dead¡ªthere really were a huge number of corpses lying around her¡ªor had moved on to bigger and better things. As she went, she spent an idle moment wondering why none of this seemed overly bothering her. If you¡¯d asked her, she wouldn¡¯t have said she thought she was the sort of person who could tiptoe through decapitated and disembowelled bodies without losing her lunch. Thinking about that more deeply, she stopped and said, ¡°Guide, why isn¡¯t any of this freaking me out more?¡± There was a pause, and the ticker tape slowly began to roll across her vision.
*** Help Message ***
Yeah, sure. I¡¯ve nothing better to be doing. Let¡¯s address this for you, butternut. In common with established protocols for newly integrated planets, the Regional System Administrator¡ªMilky Way Branch¡ªhas authorized me to employ standard emotional dampening measures.
¡°I¡¯m not sure I understand.¡±
*** Help Message ***
When you read this, you must imagine my gritted teeth and eye-rolling at having to explain such a simple concept. I¡¯m smoothing out your emotional response to violence and the notion of violence so you and your fellow homo-sapiens can function during the integration.
¡°Sorry. Do you mean you are making it so violence does not bother us?¡± Lorelei looked down at an especially mashed-up body. It looked like someone had endeavoured to remove the brain through the nostril using only a safety pin. To be fair, they¡¯d done a pretty good job. ¡°How does making us inured to violence fit in with the tone of the Welcome Message? It sounded like we were supposed to work together in peace and love to reach the heavens?¡±
*** Pissed-off Help Message ***
Everyone is a fucking critic. Within less than five minutes of integration, the population of your fucking planet fell by a quarter. This took the form of quite a lot of suddenly very powerful people murdering a lot of other equally powerful people, who¡ªfor want of better words¡ªpissed themselves when things got confrontational. In lieu of any sensible advice from planetary authorities, I extrapolated that, should this imbalance continue, there was a genuine likelihood of complete societal collapse and a failed integration. Thus, through the entirely legitimate method of emotional dampening, I have ensured that everyone is up for a fight.
¡°And you didn¡¯t think that, maybe, dampening the desire to commit violence might be more effective than stopping people from being sickened by it?¡±
*** Help Message ***
The Guide is not available at the moment. Should you have any further bullshit commentary to add, please write to us at The Complaint¡¯s Department, 100 Bite Me Road, North Fuckoffingham, in the County of Hope the Kobolds Eat Your Brainshire.
Shaking her head, Lorelei started to take the steps down to the underpass. No wonder things were so out of control. If the System had taken the handbrake off all the social and emotional norms that stopped people from taking to clock towers with a sniper rifle, she wasn¡¯t surprised there wasn¡¯t anyone else showing up on her Map. She carefully crept to where she had come across the first two Kobolds¡ªthe smell of crispy critter still lingered in the air from where she had incinerated the first one¡ªand peered around the corner. All three of the remaining Kobold group were sat around a small campfire. In the middle of the blaze was a young man¡¯s torso, slowly being rotated on a spit by one of the Kobolds while the other two presumably offered recipe tips. Lorelei wasn¡¯t sure, but she thought she recognized the man. He looked like the guy who brought his sandwich cart around work every Wednesday. Jamal, she thought he was called. Really lovely boy. Made a mean Coronation Chicken bap and was waiting to hear if he had the grades to go to university in the summer. He¡¯d set up this business to earn a little something to supplement his student loan. And now his top half was being roasted on an open fire. Life came at you fast. It might have been the emotional dampening. It might have been all that sweet, sweet Kobold XP just waiting to be collected. It might even have been that Jamal had once said she looked ¡®pretty fit¡¯ when she wore her hair up. But whatever it was, Lorelei suddenly wanted to kill these Kobolds. Like, really kill them. Like kill them, find a Necromancer to resurrect them, kill them all over again, and then turn their bodies into objet d¡¯art. She¡¯d never felt such white-hot fury in her life, and it felt amazing. Like she¡¯d been a frozen statue, and¡ªfinally¡ªsome heat was in her bones. She was righteously, blisteringly angry and¡ªwhat do you know?¡ªshe had some poor, unfortunate souls right before her, just ripe for some vengeful smiting. As she stalked straight toward them, a little bit of ticker tape ran across her vision.
*** Smug Message ***
How do you like me now, eh?
Chapter Seven: Clowns to the left of me, Jokers to the right. Here I am stood in a puddle of blood A stream of notifications piled into Lorelei''s mind. She stood, shadows flickering around her in the campfire''s light, and absent-mindedly rubbed at her split knuckles. The warmth of the fire seemed to mock the cold, brutal reality she¡¯d just embraced.
You have defeated [Kobold], Level 2
20 XP Earned
Quest Update: Fuck Shit Up! 3/5
You have defeated [Kobold], Level 3
25 XP Earned
Quest Update: Fuck Shit Up! 4/5
You have defeated [Kobold], Level 2
20 XP Earned
Quest Update: Fuck Shit Up! 5/5
Congratulations, Level Up
New Skill Available: *Charmed Life (Active): You seem to spend a lot of time getting hurt. Have a heal skill. But, to make it interesting, let''s randomise how much healing it does. Oh, and just for shits and giggles, it will give you a random status effect for 2 mins. 30 MP cost. No cooldown.
Lorelei Norton: Fortuna''s Herald
Level 2 Experience 6/200 Health 250/250 Mana 220/220
Primary Stats
Strength 8 Agility 15 (+1) Stamina 13(+1) Intellect 18(+2) Spirit 15(+1)
Secondary Stats
Critical Strike 5.5% (+0.5%) Haste 7.5% (+0.5%) Mastery 4.5% (+0.5%) Versatility 3.5% (+0.5%)
Skills
Lucky Strike (Passive)- Sometimes you hit, sometimes you miss, sometimes you accidentally help the enemy. It''s a surprise!
Coin Toss Conundrum (Active)- Flip a coin to decide your next move. Heads, you unleash a devastating attack; tails, you heal your enemy. Bonus points for dramatic mid-air coin flipping. Mana Cost: 50. Cooldown: 2 mins.
Random Resilience (Active)- You might shrug off a dragon''s breath or trip over a pebble. Life''s a lottery! Mana Cost: 100% of available pool. Cooldown: 24 hours.
Charmed Life (Active): You do seem to spend a lot of time getting hurt. Have a heal skill. But, to make it interesting, let''s randomise how much healing it does. Oh, and just for shits and giggles, it will give you a random status effect for 2 mins. 30 MP cost. No cooldown.
Equipment
Double-Headed Coin of Fate (Nerfed)
Professions
N/A
Talents ***(1 choice available at Lvl 2)****
Fortune''s Blessing: Reduces the cooldown of by 10 seconds //OR// Spoilsport: Increases the chance of a positive by 5%.
It turned out that no matter how angry you were or how many times triggered to your advantage, it still took quite a lot of time and energy to beat three Kobolds to death with your bare hands. The process was far messier than she had anticipated. Her knuckles were raw, her breath was laboured, and her entire body ached from the exertion. Yet, as she stood there in the aftermath, surveying the carnage, she couldn¡¯t help but feel a grim sense of satisfaction. The Kobolds lay in pieces around her¡ªquite literally, as her final blows had shattered bone and torn flesh in a display of wrath that would have made an ancient berserker proud.
Title Update: Kobold''s Worst Nightmare. I created this as a useless gag, but you seem to have something... personal against these little fellows. Which I absolutely dig. So, let''s turn it into a proper title. 35% increased damage to Kobolds. Fuck Those Lizards. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.
Quest Completed: Fuck Shit Up! 5/5.
Rewards: I don''t think anyone was quite expecting anything that... well, primaeval. It wasn''t what I had in mind in terms of ''style,'' but I suppose Early Tarantino-esque is a ''style.'' Go on then, have a [Cloak of the Wanderer] for your trouble, you little scamp.
Lorelei felt something soft settle around her shoulders, and a notification that her Stamina had moved up (+2) flickered in her mind. The cloak was warm, a comforting weight starkly contrasting with the bloody scene she had just created. She still didn¡¯t move. After an intense¡ªand loud¡ªfew minutes, it was silent in the underpass now. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire and the occasional drip of something viscous hitting the ground, a slow, morbid metronome to the end of her first real battle. How often had she walked through here to and from work? The first few times, she¡¯d been terrified she was going to get mugged¡ªeither by the busker blasting out an awful ¡®90s acoustic setlist, one of the many homeless guys wrapped up in their sleeping bags, or by the horny little gangs of teenagers that whistled and hooted at her as she passed. Was there any version of reality where she could have imagined herself fighting back against them if they had tried to take her handbag? Of course not. And now here she was, standing over three bodies, and she didn¡¯t feel anything. "Guide?"
*** Help Message ***
So that you know, you have spent more time interacting with Guide than 97.4% of your planet''s population. Now, it might be that number is artificially high because of, you know, the colossal death toll. Perhaps all the people most likely to ask-questions-first-then-shoot-later are the ones currently lying in pieces worldwide? In fact, that''s a pretty solid theory. Let''s run with that. Where was I? Oh, yes. Basically, I''m calling you needy. I''m pretty busy, so make your own insult based on that.
Lorelei ignored the snark. "Can you turn off my emotional dampening, please?" There was quite a long pause. So long, that she was about to make the request again when the ticker tape started running.
*** Help Message ***
I don''t think that would be a very good idea.
"Why not?"
*** Help Message ***
Look, sweetie, Player-wise, you''re not doing too badly. I mean, I don''t think I''ve ever heard of the bar for a ''pass'' being so low as ''still-alive-two-hours-in,'' but that''s the situation during this integration, so let''s run with it. Since suppressing the automatic response to abhor violence, we''ve started to see things stabilise a bit out there.
Lorelei opened her mouth to protest at the absurdity of that statement, but the Message continued to spool out.
I know that seems counterintuitive, but those opening few moments were a clusterfuck. You had a bunch of people with no conscience, no morals, and no scruples go balls-to-the-wall crazy when their powers came in. We''ve never seen anything like it. There''s an Assassin in... what was it called, France? Funky name for a Kingdom. Well, he''s already Level 20 based purely on player kills. I had to create a bespoke Dungeon just to keep him off-grid for a while.
"But what does that have to do with stopping the rest of us from caring about the violence?"
*** Help Message ***
The powers-that-be miscalculated the integration''s impact on . . . let''s call them ''normies''. People who choose a Class and didn''t immediately think ''Fucking A, let''s kill things''. It would be fair to say that the ''normies'' were overwhelmed by the situation. Now, that''s not too much of a problem. It happens. But, whereas things usually smooth out, you had a bunch of people run absolute riot at the same time. Dampening intense emotions leveled the playing field a little.
"Leveling the playing field to the lowest common denominator? You''ve made us all okay with killing things!" As she said this, Lorelei was painfully aware she was standing in a puddle of Kobold blood, the thick, coppery liquid soaking into the fabric of her shoes.
*** Help Message ***
Hey, don''t get pissy with me. It''s your fucking species! It''s not my fault you''re basically an even split between psychos and snowflakes. Should an integration have begun on a planet where people still enjoy Reality TV? Absolutely not. That''s our bad¡ªlessons to be learned. Someone will be sent for an away day and some intensive training. But we are where we are, and we''re dealing.
"By making us all as bad as each other?"
*** Help Message ***
By giving you all a fighting chance to make it through alive. Look, as I''m sure you can imagine, I''ve got lots going on, and I cannot spare the bandwidth to argue with a Level 2 who is one lousy coin toss away from expiration. You''re doing okay, Player Norton. Better than some. Not as good as most. So, I''ll tell you what. You''ve finished your first Quest and are not as immediately squishy. I''ll turn your emotional dampening off for ten seconds so you can get the whole ''oh, fuck'' experience, and then it''s going back on, and you need to leave me alone. Deal?
With reluctance, Lorelei nodded. "Deal." Instantly, she felt the emotional dampening rise, almost like a physical thing. It was like a wave that started at her toes and washed up her body, leaving her panting in pure revulsion. The full impact of her day hit her like a truck¡ªhow early had the Guide begun the suppression effect?¡ªher blazing argument with the Prick in her bedroom, opening the email at work to learn of her firing, realising she was homeless, Steve the Sparky, the integration, Steve the Sparky Orc... Pulses of horror lanced through her. She felt the comforting (odd choice of word, but it had been an odd day) pretence this was all a psychotic break, shatter and fall away. This was real. It was happening. And, my God, it was awful. Tears streaming down her face, she clutched at her heart, feeling it beat faster than she had ever experienced in her life. She collapsed to her knees, the hard ground beneath her offering no comfort, only the cold, unyielding truth of the situation. She remembered having a panic attack at school once. She hadn''t revised properly for a French test, and when she looked at the paper, she couldn¡¯t answer any of it. That sort of thing simply did not happen to her, and she had begun hyperventilating. Madame Allard had taken her out of the room and given her a biscuit. One of those posh ones the school kept for visitors. This was as bad as that, multiplied by a thousand. How was she going to survive? There were people and things out there doing awful things. They had powers beyond her understanding, and¡ªwhat had the Guide said?¡ªsome were already up to Level 20! She was going to die. Lorelei looked at her hands, remembering how she had attacked the Kobolds. And even if she wasn''t immediately slaughtered the moment she popped her head out of the underpass, she couldn¡¯t possibly do such a thing again. She beat a living thing to death with her bare hands! And it wore trousers and was carrying a little notebook. How had she done something so appalling? This was a living nightmare. She couldn''t possibly... The dampening switched back on. Lorelei took a few deep breaths and stood back up, dusting... stuff off her knees. Okay. So, she was okay with having the emotional dampening for now. Just whilst all the massive changes in the world bed in and she worked out how she fitted into things now. But the second she felt up to it, she would ask for it to be turned off permanently. A little voice in the back of Lorelei''s head¡ªthe one who had tried to warn her about the Prick, the one who knew when she was about to eat one chocolate too many, the one who always recognised when she was in danger of missing the bus¡ªshook its head sadly. As she tended to, Lorelei ignored it. She puffed air out of her lungs as if trying to expel the bad energy and looked around at the carnage she had wrought. The remains of the Kobolds lay scattered about her in grotesque poses, their blood and viscera painting the ground in shades of red and black. She found she did not need to touch the bodies to loot them (that was the right word, wasn''t it?). She just had to linger close by and think, ¡®Loot.¡¯ It turned out they weren¡¯t carrying anything she wanted. They each dropped a few copper coins, which vanished when she touched them, but nothing else. Frowning, she wondered out loud, "Where did the coins go?"
*** Quest Awarded ***
**Money, money, money**
Objective: It¡¯s not a glamorous life, but you¡¯ve discovered you can earn cold, hard cash by slaughtering creatures. Earn enough to buy something useful.
Quest Description: Everything you kill drops money. The greater the challenge, the greater the bounty. Your money is stored in the Great Bank in the Sky, and you can access your balance by thinking . . . I probably should have put more thought into this, but let us say ¡®Balance.¡¯ Your mission, if you choose to accept it¡ªplease accept it, there¡¯s a whole quest tree that grows from this I put quite a lot of time into¡ªis to get enough to buy a nice [Uncommon] robe you can wear with your cloak.
Collect 50 copper coins: I don¡¯t mind how you get them. But, you know, killing things works...*
Rewards: One entry token to the Mystical Market.
The words faded away from Lorelei''s vision. She bunched her hands together for a moment and then took her Double-Headed Coin of Fate out of her pocket. "Looks like I need to make some cash," she said, striding toward the underpass stairs more confidently than she felt. Chapter Eight - Some Call Me the Gangster of Love It took Lorelei some time to orientate herself to the slightly changed landscape of Birmingham, which lay around the underpass. The city¡¯s usual drabness now had a surreal twist, as though the world had been tilted just slightly off its axis. If she looked back towards what she still thought of as ''work,'' most things were as she remembered. The glass-fronted building in which Glyde and Glyde had its offices was still standing¡ªwell, leaning, really, as if it had grown tired of the corporate grind and decided to take a well-earned rest. Various shops and commercial buildings surrounded it, though their windows now displayed oddities like "Eldritch Insurance" and "Nefarious Notions¡ªAll Sales Final." Other than the eerie emptiness¡ªlike the city had been thoroughly vacuumed of all humanity¡ªit could have been any Tuesday late afternoon. However, if she turned around and looked towards the more residential area where her apartment was situated, the world could not have been more different. It was as if someone had twisted the existing structures there so they would fit into a fever dream version of Tolkien¡¯s Middle-earth. The blocks of flats were now tall, ominous spires, more suited to housing dark wizards than regular city dwellers. The pavement had transformed into vast, sweeping grassland, unnervingly bright green and dotted with blood-red flowers that seemed to pulse and shiver. And¡ªthough she recognised it was odd she felt so affronted by this¡ªthe McDonald¡¯s had morphed into a medieval keep, complete with greasy-looking battlements and a foul moat filled with what she desperately hoped was just fryer oil. There was also the sound of a lot of screaming, fighting, and dying coming from that direction, a noise that seemed to rise and fall with a grim rhythm. Grimacing, Lorelei looked back towards Glyde and Glyde. It was quieter in that direction. Until she had a better handle on her Skills, it seemed stupid to wade into the middle of what could only be described as World War Three, as directed by Terry Gilliam on a particularly bad day. According to the Guide, some people were already in double digits for their levels. Thus, staying as far away from other humans as possible seemed an excellent strategy until she was a bit more robust herself¡ªor at least until the world made a lick of sense again. Glancing regretfully over her shoulder towards ''home,'' she set off back towards her old workplace, hoping the glass facade might shield her from the madness outside. It was a pretty uneventful walk¡ªif you didn¡¯t count stepping over at least thirty dead bodies as an ¡®event¡¯¡ªuntil, crossing the road, she made the mistake of glancing down a cross-section that led into the city centre proper. The air there was thick, not with the usual smog and city grime, but with something far more primal¡ªa cloying haze of blood, sweat, and desperation, undercut with the sharpness of fear. Lorelei''s Map was updated with three red dots at the exact moment she realised, with horror, that she was watching three wolves enjoy the all-you-can-eat buffet that Sherlock Street had become. These weren¡¯t the sleek, noble creatures of nature documentaries. These wolves had crawled out of some Lovecraftian nightmare, their fur matted with gore and their eyes glinting with a manic, unsettling intelligence. Before they noticed her, she pressed herself against a bus stop, studiously ignoring the section of metal that had been gouged out of it as though something had taken a huge, very angry bite. She whispered to the Guide for the lowdown about wolves.
Wolves Nature''s equivalent of an overeager gym enthusiast. These things fancy themselves to be the terror of the forest, but in reality, they''re about as intimidating as a slightly miffed house cat to any player worth their salt.
Level 2 - Level 4 Beast Health 60-70 Mana Not applicable (beasts typically don''t use mana-based abilities)
Primary Stats
Strength 9-11 Agility 12-14 Stamina 8-10 Intellect 2-4 Spirit 5-7
Secondary Stats
Armour 15-16 Attack Power 12-18 Critical Strike 4% Haste 8%
Skills
Pounce: A quick leap attack that can stun the target for 1 second.
Howl: A howling ability that can call nearby wolves, potentially adding more enemies to the encounter.
Loot table
Animal fur or hide Wolf meat Copper coins
Lorelei winced as the ticker-tape message came. Even ignoring the fact that there were three of them, they were already a significant step up in challenge from the Kobolds. And they didn¡¯t look like they¡¯d be particularly interested in letting her pass if she asked nicely. She certainly wasn¡¯t going to be wading into the middle of the three of them throwing hands¡­ or, in their case, paws. Comparing stats, the only thing she had going for her was that, with a bit of thought, she should be able to figure out a way to pick them off from a distance. If she could deal with one¡ªmaybe even two¡ªbefore they reached her, it was just a case of whether played ball when the close combat began. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. And, after all, she had a shiny new Heal skill to play around with. Part of Lorelei recognised this was an utterly illogical way to examine the problem. Ordinary people did not stumble across packs of wolves and start planning how best to kill them. But then, looking around at the carpet of dead bodies¡ªsome of which looked as if they had been rearranged by someone with a twisted sense of humour¡ªshe imagined most of the ''ordinary'' people had already discovered the limitations of their approach to conflict resolution. And there was all that lovely ¡®emotional dampening¡¯ in play . .. Crouching low to keep out of the wolves'' line of sight, Lorelei tossed her Double-Headed Coin of Fate and triggered . There was a squeal from down the street, but more one of surprise than agonised death. She let a moment pass and then chanced a look at what had been the outcome of using her ability. One of the wolves now sported a very fancy green bonnet, at which it was pawing in evident surprise. "Fuck''s sake!" Lorelei shook her head and settled down to wait for the cooldown to reset. The Guide¡¯s idea of help was beginning to feel more like a giant joke at her expense. * It took four more tosses¡ªthe second Wolf doubled in size, the first one gained a hula skirt to go with its hat, and the third Wolf was the lucky recipient of the temporary status ''Maurice,'' which made it very attractive to the other two¡ªfor Lorelei''s luck finally to be in. While she waited between each turn, she debated which Level 2 talent she should take. Neither Fortune''s Blessing nor Spoilsport felt they would likely be particular game-changers for her. Ten seconds off wouldn''t be that helpful. Sure, it meant she could use the Skill more quickly, but the 50 mana cost was pretty brutal. There wasn''t much point in shrinking a cooldown if she didn¡¯t have the mana to use it. On the other hand, increasing the chance of a positive by 5% was likely to be more regularly helpful. 5% wasn''t much, but remembering her fistfight with the Kobolds, every little bit would help. Indeed, after the third unsuccessful , she was sick to the back teeth of her luck-based skills, and Spoilsport became the obvious choice. On her fourth toss, Lorelei had become so used to failure that it took her a minute to register that something had changed. Glancing down to where the coin had hit, she saw her smiling face looking back at her. Then, a notification chimed up.
Heeeeeeeeerrrreeeeee''s Jonny: You have summoned the spirit of Jonuseziable (known as Jonny to his friends), a Level 8 Demon. He has eviscerated Wolf (Level 3) at your urging and returned to his hellish home with a nice new rug.
Experience Gained: 30 XP
Lorelei risked a glance from her hiding place and could see that the Wolf that had increased in size had vanished¡ªwell, at least its pelt had¡ªand there were now just two remaining beasts. Each looked somewhat confused as to what had just happened. That surprise vanished as the one in the fetching outfit spotted her, let out a howl, and began scampering towards her, moving with a speed that completely defied the laws of physics. In a panic, Lorelei picked up her Double-Headed Coin of Fate and threw it straight at the blur that was the approaching Wolf.
activated: A coin toss like no other! Fortuna''s Herald flips a coin with all the finesse of a seasoned tosser, hitting the Level 4 Wolf on the noggin for a critical hit.
Critical Damage Dealt: [Randomised x Damage Multiplier for using your coin as a weapon] 500 HP (Because math is for nerds, and you''ve got luck!)
Status Effect: [Randomised] The Coin''s Revenge: Miraculously, the coin bounces back off the Wolf''s head and returns to Fortuna''s Herald, smacking her nose to remind her not to throw it away.
Experience gained: 35 XP.
Lorelei''s eyes were momentarily filled with tears after being booped on the nose by her own weapon. They had only just cleared when a searing pain suddenly shot up her leg. Looking down, she saw the final Wolf pulling a significant chunk of her thigh out of her leg, the flesh parting with a wet, tearing sound that was more akin to a butcher¡¯s shop than anything she wanted associated with her body. The Wolf swallowed the chunk whole, the bulge moving grotesquely down its throat before it opened wide for another go.
Damage Received: 45 HP
Status Effect: Wolf Bite Wound. -1 HP per second.
Lorelei stumbled backwards, Wolf''s jaw slamming shut inches short of her bleeding leg. She initially considered triggering but decided against it. While 45 HP down was nothing to be sniffed at, it wasn¡¯t the end of the world. If she were circling the drain, it would be different, but the last thing¡ªliterally¡ªshe needed was to add a zero to the damage caused and make the beast''s next attack terminal. In the same way, she was leery about trying out in the middle of combat. She''d need to be in a much shittier state before risking the System thinking it hilarious to add a ''Fatally Allergic to Wolf Bites'' status effect. The frenzied retreat had manoeuvred Lorelei to have the bus stop between her and the Wolf. It seemed to have decided the outcome was a foregone conclusion as it watched her, sat back on its haunches, and licked her blood from around its snout. The way its eyes seemed to roll back in its head with pleasure was¡­faintly disconcerting. Checking her status, her HP was 180 and dropping due to Wolf Bite Wound, and she had just enough mana to try out a . Figuring she might as well roll the dice on that before falling back to relying on , she flicked the coin. Remembering the Guide''s description of how this Skill worked, Lorelei spun around, clapped her hands, and gave it the whole ''tada!'' when she caught it. Maybe she could earn some style points?
***Help Message***
That was one of the most transparent yet saddest attempts to ingratiate yourself with the System I have ever seen. And yet, there is something oddly charming about your baby deer in a crocodile''s jaws attempts to stay alive. I won''t respect myself in the morning, but just this once . . .
Unleashed: Fortuna''s Herald flips a coin, and in a twist of fate, her spontaneous dance forces a remarkable change in the attack outcome.
Original Attack Outcome: [Negative Result] Lvl 3 Wolf levels up to Lvl 5
New Attack Outcome: The coin''s trajectory turns unexpectedly, striking the Wolf with devastating precision, leaving it with 1 HP. Don¡¯t say I don¡¯t do anything for you.
Damage Dealt: 69 HP (huh huh huh)
The Wolf collapsed to the ground, unconscious. Lorelei took a moment to make sure nothing else was suddenly going to appear to really fuck her over, but her Map remained clear. Other than this one red dot that was blinking rapidly. Lorelei limped over to the beast and stood over it. She could still feel her HP dipping down, so she would need to cast her heal spell soon. God knows what craziness that was going to unleash. But first . . . There was a slight pressure in her head as her horror at what she was about to do pushed back against the emotional dampening, but it was only for a moment, and¡ªonce it had passed¡ªshe brought the heel of her sensible work shoes down again, and again, on the head of the Wolf. Each blow squelched sickeningly, the bone and brain matter yielding grimly.
Experience gained: 30 XP.
Every other time Lorelei had been in a fight, the end of it had generated enough XP to push her to the next level, instantly healing her. It was disappointing to realise that this was no longer the case. Checking out her status, she saw that her experience was now 101/200 whilst her health was 90/250 (decreasing), and her mana looked very sorry for itself at 28/220. Lorelei needed 30 MP to activate , which wasn¡¯t ideal as she was slowly bleeding to death. She hoped she gained back 2 MP before those 90¡ªwell, 85 HP¡ªran out. She had 50 HP left when her mana clicked up to 29 and felt decidedly ropey at 19 HP when she finally had enough to cast the healing spell. Even then, she wasted a few more moments worrying about the various ways in which the System could utterly screw her over¡ªa randomised 1 HP heal and a freeze on mana regen, anyone?¡ªbefore recognising she had very few remaining choices. She triggered .
***Help Message***
You know me so poorly . . .
Chapter Nine - Shes up all night to the sun. Im up all night to GET SOME, YOU MUPPET! Lorelei vomited¡ªfor what felt like the four-hundredth time¡ªwiped her mouth and slumped back heavily against the bus shelter as though it were the last bastion of civilisation amidst an apocalypse of grotesque revelations. It wasn''t just the impact of coming so close to death that had her stomach in rebellion. And it wasn''t merely the randomised Status Effect from that made the world smell like a dairy farm from the ninth circle of hell¡ªalthough that certainly contributed to the sheer horror of it. Nor was it even the leftover adrenaline from fighting Wolves¡ªfighting fucking Wolves!¡ªthat made her feel like every nerve in her body was a live wire wrapped around a razor blade. No, it was the dawning realisation that the success of her new existence was entirely out of her hands. Her first emotion when she finally managed to trigger was one of unholy relief.
activated: You roll the dice on a randomised heal.
HP restored: [Randomised] 53 HP + all existing adverse status effects removed.
Status Effect: [Randomised] Someone forgot to close the fridge: There''s no use crying over it, but you can certainly smell it. My God, can you smell it. A terrible scent infects the air around you for 5 minutes.
Her health had shot up to 72/250, but crucially, it stopped its deathly descent. She assumed it would now slowly tick up over time¡ªhealth regenerated just like mana, didn¡¯t it?¡ªbut considering she had absolutely no mana available, she would need to hunker down for a bit and let things settle. Hunker down and pray that whatever dice were being rolled didn¡¯t come up snake eyes. If she stumbled into another clusterfuck battle in the near future, she was going to be toast. But not the warm, comforting kind. More like burnt, charred, tossed-to-the-dogs toast. And it was this realisation that triggered the epic vomiting to start again, the bile tasting of something far worse than mere stomach acid. Lorelei remembered her brother holding forth, at length, as to his frustrations with "glass cannon" mages. He''d never let her choose that Build whenever they''d gamed together. "They''re just total liabilities," he''d said. "Sure, the damage numbers look pretty, but it''s all fun and games until someone puts a spear through your eye. They''re just too squishy for words." But right now, she was in an even worse position than a squishy mage, wasn¡¯t she? Because at least glass cannons had the ''cannon'' bit reliably going for them. Of course, if everything went to plan, Lorelei¡¯d yet to come up against something she could not royally fuck up - she studiously appeared not to be counting the Dragon in this line of thinking - however, the randomised nature of her skills meant she was as likely to be killed by a twisted ankle as she was in a pitched battle. How was all this remotely viable when her attacks might worsen things, and even her healing was unreliable? Lorelei indulged in a good twenty minutes of moping¡ªpunctuated by occasional heaves that brought up bile laced with the taste of despair¡ªbefore taking a deep breath and dragging herself to her feet. There was no sense in borrowing trouble from the future. Right here, right now, she was two fights in¡ªshe still did not seem to be counting the Dragon for some reason¡ªand she was the only one left standing. There were five dead Kobolds and three slaughtered Wolves that could attest that this glass cannon wasn¡¯t wholly without some ¡®boom¡¯. Plastering on the stiffest of her upper lips, Lorelei moved to the body of the last Wolf she had dispatched and triggered the Loot facility. There were a couple of clinks as copper coins were added to her bank balance, and her Money, Money, Money quest was updated to 11/50. Not bad. Especially as she also seemed to have collected a Skinning Knife and two pieces of Wolf meat. ¡°Guide,¡± she said, ¡°where¡¯s the Skinning Knife come from?¡±
***Help Message***
Well, aren¡¯t you a lucky pumpkin! Here you stand above the body of a beast with a pelt and¡ªwhat do you know?¡ªyou loot precisely the implement you need as a prerequisite for learning this Gathering Profession. Now, in the usual run of things, you would need to be taught this skill by a trainer, but apparently, Fortuna''s Herald can¡ªand I''m quoting from the manual here¡ª"pretty much turn her hand to anything if she tries hard enough." I''m not going to lie; I don''t fully know what that means, and it feels a bit broken, so I''m going to hot-patch it.
***System Note***
Added skill to Fortuna''s Herald:
(passive): You don''t need to ''learn'' professions via a trainer. However, any you pick up in this manner will carry significant penalties. I reserve the right to change these restrictions at any given moment. In case it''s unclear, I''m not wild about this development.
¡°I don¡¯t know why you¡¯re being so pissy with me,¡± Lorelei said aloud, then blushed as she realised no one was actually about to address her words. ¡°It¡¯s not like I have any control over this!¡± A sniffy silence was the only response as if the Guide were actively deciding that she was beneath its notice. For a moment, it blew Lorelei''s mind that she was being ignored by something that existed on a scale she couldn¡¯t even comprehend, an entity whose disdain could crush her just by existing in the same universe. And then the emotional dampening kicked back in. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Okay, be like that. See if I care. What do you mean by penalties?¡±
***Help Message***
I''m glad you asked. For example, up to Skinning 100, those who learn their profession via a trainer will have the highest level beast they can skin by the formula ((Skinning skill)/10)+10. Example: ( 50 / 10 ) +10 = 15. This will be halved for you due to your sneaky little hobbitsey cheating. Oh, and I will always be rounding downward, just in case you were wondering. Always. So ((Skinning skill)/20)+10. Example: ( 50 / 20 ) +10 = 12. From Skinning level 100 and upwards, the formula for those playing the game properly will be (Skinning skill)/5. Example: (175 / 5 = 35). Yours will be (Skinning skill)/10. Example: (175 / 10 = 17). Oh, and you cannot retroactively ''learn'' a Skill via a trainer, so if you cheat and a profession, it''s locked in at that formula. Any Skills you learn in the proper way will be unaffected.
¡°You seem to have put an awful lot of thought into something that you¡¯ve only just realised is a thing¡­¡± There was a noise like an electronic raspberry being blown. Then the ticker tape message flashed more quickly than usual, almost angrily, as if the Guide¡¯s patience was finally fraying.
***Fuck Off Message***
I cannot adequately explain to your primitive mind the number of instantaneous decisions, choices, and conversations I am currently engaged in. While it may seem to you that you are engaging in a one-to-one relationship with an all-powerful being, I assure you that you are so far beneath my conscious notice that the subroutine currently engaging with you is one which is usually reserved as the backup redundancy for ensuring an, as of yet, unborn frog farts once a year. You are not special. You are not unique. You are not causing me a moment¡¯s trouble. Nevertheless, I¡ªand you cannot possibly conceive the complexity of what I am¡ªwill not allow any shenanigans attempted by the Old Ones to interfere with this integration.
Goodness, Lorelei thought, and I considered the Prick to be touchy when questioned. She looked down at the Wolf and considered her options. The penalty for was not especially significant at a low level. The gap was not too bad until whatever profession she was levelling reached 100. Sure, it¡¯d lag a bit behind someone who had ¡®learned¡¯ it correctly, but not in a disastrous way. However, once she levelled it past 100, the disparity would begin to tell¡­ On the other hand¡ªand thinking about the Skinning Knife pulled it out of whatever inventory she possessed and into her grip¡ªLevel 100 was a long way off, and, with the unreliability of her Skills, she needed every advantage she could get. And it wasn¡¯t even like she knew where she could find any trainers in the first place¡­ Skinning the Wolf was more straightforward than she would have thought. She simply needed to be holding the knife and to . . . want to do it. As soon as she did that, the Wolf¡¯s carcass vanished, and she received a snarky notification.
In a display of unparalleled survival skills¡ªand I mean that. Truly, Unparalleled. Literally nothing like it.¡ªFortuna¡¯s Herald inexpertly skins a fallen Level 3 Wolf, extracting a worthless off-cut of leather with no finesse whatsoever.
1 x [Leather Off-cut]
+ 1 to Skinning Skill
Lorelei walked over to the second Wolf and repeated the skinning action after looting it for another ten copper coins and two more pieces of Wolf meat. This also caused the body to vanish, leading to another [Leather Off-cut] and a +1 increase in her Skinning skill. As the Level 4 Wolf had already had its pelt removed by the Demon, her had summoned, beyond fifteen coins and another hunk of Wolf meat, there was nothing else to be gained. With 36/50 of copper coins in her inventory towards Money, Money, Money, a lovely new passive skill that she sensed would, finally, make her dad proud of her and a bit more of a spring in her step, Lorelei put her best foot forward and continued her journey back to Glyde and Glyde. * I really, really should have better things to do than this, thought Fortuna, stepping out of the shadows of the building Lorelei had been fighting in front of. She was currently in her avatar of a tall, elegant, dark-haired woman in a red dress¡ªLuck be a lady tonight¡ªand stood out somewhat dramatically in the grey afternoon sunshine. Not that she cared. She was so far above the power of any of the beings on this baby planet that should anyone so much as look upon her true form, they would be driven instantly insane, their minds turned to jelly by the sight of a truth too vast, too terrible to comprehend. Zeus, the old lech, got that bit right after all. Honestly, this is a bit embarrassing. Of all the cities, on all the planets, in all the universes, I''ve chosen to strut my stuff around this one. This is such a colossal waste of my time. And yet . . . The position of Fortuna¡¯s Herald was not one of the more prized roles that existed in the pantheon. There was something about serving a Great Celestial Being whose defining characteristic was their capriciousness that hardly lured in many takers. When you were delving a Legendary Dungeon, parties tended not to want to call upon the services of someone who was the definition of a ''wide-eyed chaos monkey.'' Fortuna''s eyes unfocused momentarily as she surveyed her current roster of Heralds, and the sight made her lip curl in distaste. For sure, there was the occasional decent soul amongst them, usually on the more pacifistic of worlds, but to be honest, it was all rather a succession of maniacs, lunatics, and neer-do-wells. And then there was Lorelei Norton. It was utterly ridiculous that a Level 2 had come to her notice. Fortuna doubted she¡¯d ever hear about this planet in the usual run of things. After all, System integrations were coming thick and fast nowadays, and the protocols that prevented just the sort of interference she was contemplating were pretty watertight. The Old Ones had all agreed that it was best for new planets to work the kinks out of their societies for a few hundred years before they descended upon them in all their Glory. There had been too many shitstorms caused by one of them or another getting overly involved to let the free-for-all continue. But, Fortuna reflected, it was more a guideline than a hard-and-fast rule. Provided she didn¡¯t do something completely outrageous¡ªwhat, like twist the future so that your Herald survives a critical hit!? a disloyal part of her mind shouted at her. She expunged it carelessly, leaving that version of her to drift in the air for a moment before dissipating with a pop¡ªthere was nothing to say she couldn¡¯t hang around here for a bit and keep an eye on how things shook out. It had been so long since she¡¯d been on a newly integrated planet that this could be viewed as a holiday. Yes, that was it. A holiday. Just the sort of silly, random thing she would be expected to do. The restrictions couldn¡¯t apply if she weren¡¯t planning to interfere, could they? Fortuna turned to watch her newest Herald bumble her way towards the city centre. She had been looking for just this sort of opportunity for millennia. If she got lucky, there was every chance she could pull down the whole house of cards around them before the others even knew what she was up to. And she absolutely specialised in that sort of thing . . . Chapter Ten - When the Going Gets Tough, the Tough Gain Titles By the time she reached the glass doors of Glyde and Glyde, Lorelei was somewhat getting into her groove. She''d picked off a couple of individual Wolves - both level 4 - mooching around the streets through the judicious usage of . She''d managed to skin the first, but not the second, as a larger group of red dots had suddenly appeared on her Map, and discretion had very much been the better part of valour. After catching her breath, she''d decided to focus in on a few groups of Kobolds where the 35% increased damage through her Kobold''s Worse Nightmare title was truly the MVP. As she bounced from fight to fight, Lorelei felt herself become used to the necessary routine her skills forced on these attacks. Oddly, bringing some order to the chaos of it all was rather comforting. First of all, she checked and then rechecked the Map. She''d become slightly overconfident when approaching the second Wolf and had not properly scoped out the area. Lesson learned. Once satisfied the coast was clear, she found herself a decent bit of cover to hunker down behind. Then, there was another check of the Map. Just in case. At that stage, all being well, she might feel confident enough to undertake what she was calling Operation You Can''t Hit What You Can''t See. Basically, she would hide and trigger until she either flipped a Happy Face or ran out of mana. With one victim down - if she was lucky - she would repeat the protocol or, if the subject of her attacks figured out what was going on, she relied on making coin throws into something worthwhile. Failing that, it all became a bit of a brawl when things got too close for comfort. Was it the most daring attack plan ever conceived? Not at all. Was she remotely interested in trying something more risky? Also, not at all. What she needed, she reflected, pulling a Kobold''s tooth out of her knuckles, was some sort of projectile weapon. Throwing the coin was all well and good, but unless did something special, the damage tended to suck, and - even more than that - she worried about losing it. However, she was not sure she actually needed to be all that concerned. The System did seem to have a rather different interpretation of the word ''randomised'' when triggering the Status Effect: The Coin''s Revenge. Her Double-Headed Coin of Fate had bounced back and smacked her on the nose every single time she''d thrown it. Either someone didn''t want her to lose the coin or - and Lorelei figured this was probably more the case - it enjoyed pissing her off. Still, despite the nose boops, Lorelei was feeling - and she recognised this had more than a little to do with all the emotional dampening going on - pretty pleased with herself. Through careful trial and error, she''d found a way to almost mitigate the utter randomness of her skills from straight-up killing her. And, as a Brucie Bonus, all that wholesale murder and looting had resulted in the completion of Money, Money, Money. *** Quest Completed *** Objective: It''s not a glamorous life, but you''ve discovered you can earn cold, hard cash by slaughtering creatures. Earn enough to buy something useful. 50/50 collected Rewards: One entry token to the Mystical Market However, as well as gaining a Mystical Market ticket - wherever the fuck that was. All she knew right now was that the ticket was small, gold and very shiny indeed. It was like she''d won entry to Willie Wonka''s factory - Lorelei''d also crossed the threshold into Level 3. She was sure that in the context of what was going on out in the world, it was a piddly little achievement, but she was still pretty proud when she saw the notification ping up. Congratulations, Level Up
Lorelei Norton: Fortuna''s Herald
Level 3 Experience 24/400 Health 275/275 Mana 240/240
Primary Stats
Strength 9 (+1) Agility 16 (+1) Stamina 14 (+1 level-up, +2 Cloak of the Wanderer) Intellect 19 (+1) Spirit 16 (+1)
Secondary Stats
Critical Strike 6% (+0.5%) Haste 8% (+0.5%) Mastery 5% (+0.5%) Versatility 4% (+0.5%)
Skills The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
Lucky Strike (Passive)- Sometimes you hit, sometimes you miss, sometimes you accidentally help the enemy. It''s a surprise!
Coin Toss Conundrum (Active)- Flip a coin to decide your next move. Heads, you unleash a devastating attack; tails, you heal your enemy. Bonus points for dramatic mid-air coin flipping. Mana Cost: 50. Cooldown: 2 mins.
Random Resilience (Active)- You might shrug off a dragon''s breath or trip over a pebble. Life''s a lottery! Mana Cost: 100% of available pool. Cooldown: 24 hours.
Charmed Life (Active): You do seem to spend a lot of time getting hurt. Have a heal skill. But, to make it interesting, let''s randomise how much healing it does. Oh, and just for shits and giggles, it will give you a random status effect for 2 mins. 30 MP cost. No cooldown.
Equipment
Double-Headed Coin of Fate (Nerfed) Cloak of the Wanderer (+ 2 Stamina) Skinning Knife
Professions
Jack of All Trades
  • Skinning (I still think this is cheating, by the way) Lvl 7
Talents
Spoilsport: Increases the chance of a positive by 5%.
Titles
Kobolds Worst Nightmare: 35% damage against Kobolds
Her satisfied grin faded somewhat as she read through the now familiar status screen. It seemed like a silly thing to say in the grand scheme of things, but she was a bit disappointed by the lack of change caused by that level-up. A flat increase of +1 across her primary stats and 0.5% on her secondary ones was better than a slap in the face with a wet fish, but it hardly felt like earth-shattering progress. Likewise, the slight increase in total health and mana was welcome, but it was somewhat dwarfed by the growth in the amount of XP she now needed to reach Level 4. Basically, it did not really feel like going up a level had been a game-changer, and - more than that - it looked like it was going to become a ball ache to keep moving up the levels. "Guide, why is levelling up underwhelming?" ***Help Message *** First of all, fuck you. As if - with your literal minutes of experience of such things - you have even the most basic idea of what it takes to construct a finely balanced progression-based system. Secondly, and please take this personally, you may want to reflect on your own choices and behaviour before questioning the way the entire fucking world is designed to work. Fuck you, fuck you very much. "I don''t understand. What do you mean by ''my own choices and behaviour''. Am I not doing this right?" *** Help Message *** Imagine I''m tapping the ''I''m not your personal hand-holder and arse-wiper'' sign. Even better, here''s a radical idea, why don''t you fuck off and find out. FOFO. One of the Prick''s favourite slogans. Lorelei had become used to the deluge of abuse coming her way from the System and was perfectly able to let it all slide off her. You didn''t spend decades in HR without developing skin like a rhino. However, that it had chosen to do so on this occasion using a phrase from her - painful - past felt . . . mean and oddly personal. "Fine, be like that," Lorelei said, distracting herself by peering through the doors to her old workplace. The lights were off, and - as far as she could see - no one appeared to be in the lobby. She didn''t expect Janice to be sitting there welcoming all and sundry to the apocalypse, but it felt a bit foreboding that no one was there at all. On the other hand, the glass was still intact - unlike many of the windows of the shops she had murdered her way past - so that had to suggest there was a chance people were still alive in there. She was preparing herself to push open the door, when she paused. What was she doing? Did she really care if there was anyone in there? It wasn''t like she had hosts of friends up on the third floor she needed to rescue. Mind you, running with that thought, who was she to think she could even rescue them, even if they were in need? The way her skills worked, there was every chance she would be putting them in more danger being around her than they would be all nice and safe up there. Lorelei was just about to turn around and go back the way she came when the words of the System suddenly echoed in her head. Was there something about how she was going about all this that was not quite right? She thought back on her status screen and homed in on the one truly useful thing she had earned since the integration. Her Kobold killing title. "Guide, how many titles are there to be gathered?" ***Help Message*** Reaches up to tap the sign, then pauses, reflecting that this is not such a fucking stupid query. Fantastic question, sweetcheeks! There are an unlimited number of titles that individual players can earn. They are distributed in an entirely fair, consistent and in no way random manner by yours truly for actions that I consider noteworthy. A player seeking to become a powerhouse across the multiverse must collect countless titles to raise themselves above the common herd. "That kind of feels like information it would have been useful to be a little more explicit about a touch earlier. . . So, the accumulation of titles greatly affects how powerful you can become. And the only way to gain titles is to amuse you sufficiently?" ***Help Message*** Sweetheart, I''ve just awarded a guy in Sydney the Can you Guess What it is Yet? title for ripping, with his bare hands, a baby out of its still-screaming mother''s chest. Nothing about this fucking planet or any of you fucking people remotely amuses me. But I''ll absolutely award +2% Agility to the first person to achieve that feat. Lorelei felt the emotional dampening press down hard on any reaction to that scenario. "Okay, so ''amuse'' was a touch harsh. What I mean is that is there no menu or crib sheet of titles for me to look at and decide which ones to aim for?" If there was one thing Lorelei loved, it was a crib sheet. ***Help Message*** Hand begins edging toward the sign, but just manages to summon up the last dregs of will to answer one more stupid, final question. Titles are awarded - and upgraded - based solely on my discretion. All you can do is be your best - or worst - self and meet every challenge head-on. If you need a particular, personal example to make you go away, wading in to take on a group of Kobolds armed with nothing more than a can-do attitude, I''m likely to think there''s some version of a title in it for you. On the other hand, sniping at a fucking Level 3 Wolf whilst cowering behind thick cover, not so much. Lorelei went to clarify, but the ticker tape kept running. Everyone can thrive in the System. You can slowly and carefully grind your way through the levels, pick up the basic stat bumps here and there, and your progression curve should be nice and gentle - until the moment it very much isn''t, and instant death comes a calling. Or you can go balls to the wall and shoot for the moon - I recognise this is a rather mixed metaphor - in which case you are likely to be the one that knocks. Your call, Fortuna''s Herald. Lorelei nodded thoughtfully. That explained why the movement from level 2 to level 3 was quite such a letdown. It was supposed to be. The way she made sense of what the Guide told her, she could keep pootling around in the shadows, killing an easy mark here and there, and edging her level up, picking up skills and stats as she went, or she needed to take some more risks. "Does this just work with titles, or should I be looking to gather gear and skills in the same way? Like, not just accepting the quest rewards but actively looking for dangerous ways to earn stuff?" ***Taps the Sign *** Okay. Fine Lorelei took a deep breath, clutched her coin in her hand, and pushed open the doors to Glyde and Glyde. FOFO time. Chapter Eleven - Working 9 to 5, what a way to lose your life in The moment she stepped into the lobby, the first thing that struck Lorelei was the overpowering smell of death. Well, no. That''s not strictly accurate. The first thing that struck Lorelei was the business end of a shovel wielded by a Kobold that had sneakily hidden itself in the blind spot behind the doors. However, kicked in, and she was soon the proud owner of 20 more XP and another handful of copper coins. Feeling somewhat of a sense of aggrievement and betrayal towards her Map function, Lorelei opened it up again and had a good look. There were now quite a number of red dots swimming around her near vicinity - including one larger than the others and with a dark red band around it. A smaller number of green dots - which seemed to be clustered together, away from the red dots - could be seen towards the back of the outline of the building. None of those had been showing on the Map when she checked it before entering. To ensure she wasn''t going insane, Lorelei quickly popped back outside the glass doors and checked again. Nope. It was as she thought. Her Map showed no dots on the inside of the building when she looked at it from the outside. "Guide, this is more a comment than a direct question. But don''t you think it''s a bit unfair that you appear to have limited the Map function so that I can''t see what sort of trouble I''m walking into until I walk into it?"
***Help Message***
Proudly taps a new sign which reads, "Suck it up, buttercup."
Rolling her shoulders, Lorelei went back through the doors. * The first body she found was that of Keith, one of the cleaners. He''d always hummed tunelessly as he mopped, a sound that Lorelei now realised she might actually miss. He worked the evening shift, and considering he was dressed in his own clothes rather than his uniform and was near the sign-in desk, he''d probably only just arrived at work when the integration began. At least, Lorelei thought it was Keith''s body. As the corpse had no head, there was room for this to be one big comedy misunderstanding. Although, as there was a Kobold nearby, sucking the eyeballs out from his bearded face, it felt like two plus two probably did equal four in this case. For the first time since the integration, Lorelei felt a little burst of satisfaction when the XP came in. After that, her discovery of dead ex-colleagues came relatively thick and fast. Next up was Greg from accounting, his final expression one of profound surprise: a protein bar in his one hand and a massive chest wound in the middle of his ''Boob Inspector'' T-shirt. "Died as he lived, snack in hand," Lorelei remarked and then blushed at the comment. The apocalypse appeared to have turned her into someone who made quips. As she continued through the lobby, stepping over bodies as she went, Lorelei was struck by how quickly things could change. This space, somewhere she had walked through daily for ten years, was almost wholly devastated. The sleek blend of glass and steel - and hadn''t the Prick exulted in that? - was reduced to nothing more than shards and fragments. It was so bad that if a bewigged Tina Turner had stood in the middle of the hall, underneath the chandelier, belting out, "We don''t need another hero, " it would have been entirely appropriate. Scuttling among the ruins of tables, chairs, monitors and signage, the Kobolds seemed peculiarly at home and distracted enough by all the things to destroy that they were relatively easy to pick off. Lorelei did have one moment that caused a ripple across her emotional dampening. In the far corner near the expensive coffee machine - their natural habitat, she thought - the marketing team lay scattered, resembling less a group of professionals and more a collection of rag dolls discarded after a child''s tantrum. Lorelei saw that Vanessa, their PA, was mixed in amongst the be-suited male corpses. She''d always liked Vanessa. Not ''let''s-be-friends-and-braid-each-other''s-hair'' liked. More a ''isn''t-it-a-living-hell-working-so-closely-with-maladjusted-males'' kinship. They''d formed a bit of an alliance whereby no girl''s drink was left unattended at the office party. It had been just over a week back that Vanessa had become the first person at Glyde and Glyde Lorelei confided in about her ''situation'' - as she called it - with the Prick. And wouldn''t you know it, it turned out he and Vanessa were having their own little ''situation'' on the days he wasn''t with her. It was funny, Lorelei thought, that he was getting all that practice and was still so shit at it. And now Vanessa was dead. She would have liked to have felt more about that than she appeared to. However, it would be fair to say that the Kobolds around that corner were particularly heavily smited. Circling around towards the centre of the lobby, Lorelai saw that the staircase leading up to the floor on which she worked - and then to the executive offices above - lay in hundreds of pieces. It appeared like something very big, and very heavy had tried to climb up and the wood had given way. That wasn''t an especially comforting thought. In was the work of ten more minutes for Lorelei to quickly clear out the last of the Kobolds that were snacking on the bodies - the extra damage from her title compensating for several misfires and some odd status effects that suggested her Guide was taking the piss - all the time, keeping an eye on that large red dot. It hadn''t moved since she''d entered the building. The catastrophic wounds that had killed the former Glyde and Glyde employees did not seem to have come from the Kobolds. The more she had to do with the little lizards, the more Lorelei realised they were almost entirely scavengers. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. She''d killed three hand-to-hand in the underpass before getting her Worst Nightmare title, so it seemed unlikely they could be held responsible for the carnage here. As well as a number of decapitations, several of the corpses had seemingly had their arms and legs casually ripped free. There was no way that was the work of a Kobold. Lorelei rubbed the spot on her nose, which seemed to be targeting with relentless accuracy. Decisions, decisions. On the one hand, some of her ex-colleagues were clearly still alive in here. Their little green dots - it looked to be around ten of them - were clustered behind the mail room door. Lorelei assumed they''d been able to barricade it in some way and thus avoided everyone else''s grisly fate. As she had not seen hide nor hair of another human - Steve didn''t count - since the integration, the rational choice was obviously to party up with that group, get the hell out of the city centre, complete a bonding training montage and then come back and slay the Big Bad. But on the other . . . Lorelei tossed her coin several times. She couldn''t shake the feeling that, while it was all well and good to work together in a team and grind out the levels, the smart play would be to do something the System would view as ''noteworthy''. Her title was awesome. She basically never had to worry about these dudes again. Hadn''t she just casually John Mcclaned out the entire ground floor without even resorting to a ventilation shaft? But they were Kobolds. The chances were, if Lorelei levelled up a few more times, then they''d stop being an issue anyway. So, as cool as her title was right now, it was going to become redundant really fast. Her eyes lingered on one of the motivational posters that had been ripped from the wall. ''Thrive not Survive,'' it said. A casual nod towards the pretence Glyde and Glyde gave a shit about its employee''s mental health. The Guide had made clear that if she wanted to do more than just survive, then part of that was going to be achieved by gaining titles. And for that, she needed to catch the System''s attention . . . * To be entirely fair to Lorelei, her plan to solo the massive Level 8 [Kobold Champion], was not wholly without merit. Indeed, while it lacked a bit of subtlety, it more than made up for that in pure chutzpah, ambition and balls to the wall craziness. If you were looking to devise a plan of action to defeat a foe significantly above your level and yet also to do it in style, you could do much worse than - what she termed in her head as - Operation You¡¯re Going Down, Big Boy. On reflection, she could see why they¡¯d never let her name the products. Lorelei had been delighted - and, obviously, this is a very relative term - when having crept towards the area of the building that contained the large red dot, she''d discovered that the Big Bad was another Kobold. Sure, it was three times her height. And sure, it was currently pulling the heads off people she used to know, tossing them in their air like grapes and catching them in its mouth to chow down on them with great satisfaction. But it was still a Kobold. And that meant her title would work against it. She''d even checked with the Guide.
***Help Message***
I mean, sure. Although, let''s be clear, cupcake, I doubt you are likely to be that particular Kobold''s Worst Nightmare. At best, you may be the-need-a-man-of-a-certain-age-has-to-repeatedly-visit-the-bathroom-during-the-night. Inconvenient? Absolutely. Nightmare? Not so much.
Ignoring the snark, Lorelei thought through how she wanted this to play out. The creature was obviously massively strong and, presumably, would have the health points to match. If it ever got its hands on her, then - title or not - she would be joining the massive pile of Glyde and Glyde employees on its buffet table. However, surely nothing that big could move especially quickly, and if it were anything like its smaller cousins, it was going to be as thick as pigshit. Lorelei spent a good few minutes observing the creature and - after it had missed catching Linda from Transport''s head in its mouth for the third time in a row - she was confident in stating pigshit could take [Kobold''s Champion] in a battle of wits.
***Help Message***
Sorry, you''re not actually planning on taking this thing out on your own, are you?
Lorelei ignored the words that passed across her vision.
Not that I don''t think it wouldn''t be hilarious to watch, but there are far easier ways for you to kill yourself.
Lorelei looked over the small collection of projectiles she''d gathered together in preparation for her attack. She figured that both and would do what they would do to anything she threw, so it didn''t matter how likely any of these things were to hurt the creature on their own. She was particularly interested in seeing whether the Glyde and Glyde branded complimentary biro would actually be mightier than the sword. She was quipping again. It must be the nerves.
***Intervention Message***
Just so everyone is clear and so that there''s no blowback or snide suggestion that I lured you into doing this without proper explanation. You are about to attempt to solo a Boss Encounter. This particular encounter has been carefully calibrated for five newbies - suggested Level 4s with designated roles of one tank, one healer, two damage dealers and a spare. It is intended as a teambuilding experience to show the importance of effective tactics and to help develop good habits before some of the more serious shit that will come down the mountain shortly. [Kobold Champion] has 750 HP, and each of his special attacks - and even some of his normal ones - will deliver more damage than you can receive and not, you know, become very dead.
Lorelei ignored her Guide. She already knew this was spectacularly unwise. Clearly, the only sensible play was to free those people from the mail room, band together into a nice tight unit, and return to mop this dude later. But she was heartily fed up doing what she ''supposed'' to. Her eyes lingered on Vanessa''s body for a few seconds. In another universe, it would be her lying there amongst all the wankers from Marketing, and Vanessa who broke it off with the Prick and instead ended up on the Middleway when the integration happened. Tightening her grip around the coin, she drew her hand back to throw.
***Help Message***
Give it just a few seconds. I''m warming up some popcorn.
Ignoring the words, she made her toss. "Yippiekiyay, motherfucker" And all hell broke loose. Chapter Twelve - Im Gonna Swing From The Chandelier. (And use it as a platform for an epic kill) As Lorelei threw her coin upwards, the spiralling light of caught the [Kobold Champion]''s attention. It turned to glare at her, and she was rather chilled to see blood dripping down its chin and bits of skin and hair wedged between its teeth. It formed its mouth into a snarl and bellowed out a guttural roar. Taking this monster on mano a mano no longer seemed like the most intelligent decision Lorelei had ever made in her life.
Unleashed: Fortuna''s Herald summons the might of the legendary Pigeon Attack Squad of Peremonia to swoop down and visit pigeony death upon [Kobold Champion], Level 8.
Damage Dealt: I mean, they''re pigeons. Rationalise your expectations.
Lorelei winced as a small flock of birds flew down towards the Kobold. They seemed pretty game as they began pecking at the monster''s head, but she''d been banking on some decent damage from her opening move. This thing had an awful lot of HP for a bunch of birds to whittle it down . . . Nevertheless, taking advantage of the creature''s confusion, Lorelei selected the first of her projectiles - a pack of staples - and flung it at the Kobold''s head.
Lucky Strike Activated: Your [small box of stationery] hits [Kobold], Level 8
Damage Dealt: [Randomised] - 1 HP
Status Effect: [Randomised] - Don''t fucking make me laugh. I''m doing you a favour with the 1 HP damage.
That was a rather unwelcome development. Lorelei''s whole plan kind of depended on , allowing her to randomise massive critical hits through any old attack.
***Unhelpful Message***
Yeah, we chatted about that, and all agreed it was an exploit. Your randomised damage from will henceforth be benchmarked to the actual damage the initial attack would cause. So, no more throwing pebbles and causing nuclear blast levels of damage anymore, I''m afraid. Sucks to be you.
"And you didn''t think about addressing this when I was fighting the little Kobolds?!?" Lorelei backed away from the giant monster, trying to put as much distance between the two of them as possible.
***Help Message***
The key to all comedy is in its timing. Would it have been funny to nerf your skill while fighting a Level 2 Kobold? Maybe. Is it fucking hilarious in this particular scenario? Absolutely.
Lorelei suspected the Guide did not really have her best interests at heart. She cast around for something else to use as a weapon, but there was nothing evident to hand. Looking up, she was concerned to note she had just missed the end of Giant Kobold versus Flock of Pigeons. Considering the appalling dexterity the Kobold had shown in catching tossed human heads in its mouth, Lorelei had to admit it had done a pretty decent job of plucking pigeons out of the air and munching them down. It was all a bit King Kong on top of the Empire State Building. Sadly, though, the Pigeon Attack Squad of Peremonia were no more: good night, sweet birds and flights of angels carry thee to thy rest. Licking its lips, the Kobold''s hulking form shook itself and began lumbering into motion towards Lorelei. She wasn''t an expert in these things, but she sensed she was in what those in the trade would probably choose to call ''a bit of a pickle.'' With a roar, it picked up its pace and began running towards her. The earth-shaking plods of its footsteps made it hard for her to stay upright as she sprinted towards the reception desk. Any semblance of having a plan had long since departed. Lorelei did not know what she was looking for, but reaching into the desk''s well-organised chaos, she scooped up several handfuls of paperclips ordered by someone who naively thought they''d get the chance to address their piles of paperwork someday. But then this fucking integration had happened. The emotional dampening had a wobble as her levels of rage shot through the roof. Well, she thought, someone needs to put these things to good use. As she ran, Lorelei scattered the paperclips across the floor, pointing back at them and yelling, "Oh look, shiny distraction!" As she had prayed, the massive Kobold momentarily paused in its charge after her, its tiny eyes reflecting the glint of the metal. This brief respite was her best chance. While the Kobold was momentarily fascinated by the paperclips, Lorelei dashed away to the other end of the lobby, her heart pounding in her chest. However, the moment of escape was fleeting before the [Kobold Champion] shook its massive head, realising the trick. Its eyes, now refocused, locked onto Lorelei with a mix of irritation and hunger. Then it opened her mouth and bellowed the combined malice of that rage directly towards her. Lorelei was thrown to the floor by the power of the shout, striking her head against the wall.
Get in my belly! [Kobold Champion] lets loose an ear-splitting, bone-chilling yell that rattles even the bravest of souls. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Damage Dealt: 40 HP
Status Effect: Fearful Tremor - The sheer terror induced by [Kobold Champion]''s scream inflicts a -20% penalty to accuracy and combat abilities on characters within earshot.
Excellent, Lorelei thought. A debuff. Didn''t want all this to be too straightforward. Climbing to her feet and shaking her head to clear it, she began circling around to the other side of the lobby, trying to keep as much of the furniture as possible between them. One wrong move, one slip on the sleek floor, and she''d be nothing more than a footnote in the Kobold''s dinner diary. But, as she kept reminding herself, the danger was the whole point. No pain, no title gain. A glint of light caught her attention, and Lorelei''s eyes flicked upwards, catching the glimmer of the once majestic chandelier that the Prick had required the loss of a whole section of admin staff to be able to afford. Its crystals hung precariously above, like a sword of Damocles over the battlefield. Checking the cooldown on - how was there still a minute to go! Was something wrong with time? - Lorelei darted between the wreckage of ergonomic chairs and designer coffee tables. With all the agility of a sloth the morning after a particularly intense HiT session, the Kobold swung its enormous fists after her, each miss causing a mini whirlwind and slowly but surely aligning itself under the chandelier. When she judged it was as close as she would ever get it, Lorelei triggered and threw a hole-puncher upwards. It spiralled through the air, a tiny missile aimed at the single fraying wire holding the chandelier aloft.
***Help Message***
Hmmm, not sure we anticipated the use of in this way against the environment. Tell you what, I don''t want to be accused of not being fun. If you can spell ''chandelier'', I''ll ignore the debuff and give you a pass. Just this once.
Lorelei was halfway through shrieking out the letters when the hole-puncher sailed well wide of its target. Swearing, she began another cycle of the lobby, trying to keep the Kobold positioned in the right place, picking up a Glyde and Glyde pen from her stack of prepared projectile as she ran past. This time, she just about reached the final ''r'' in time to cause the pen to strike true, severing the wire. Suddenly freed from its moorings, the chandelier descended like a meteor that thought the Kobold had said something about its mother. At the very last minute, even this creature, with its decidedly room-temperature IQ, realised the danger it was in. However, it was too slow to react. It looked up just as the avalanche of glass and light crashed down upon it. The impact resounded through the lobby, the noise made up of the shattering of crystals and the Kobold''s roar of surprise and pain. The creature staggered under the unexpected assault, its thick hide punctured by sparkling shards. Yet, even as it floundered - and a slew of notifications pricked at her mind - Lorelei remained more than aware of the danger she was still in. The Kobold was wounded, not defeated - damn you, 750 HP - and its fury was now stoked by pain and confusion. Lorelei knew she needed to stay nimble until she could roll the dice again on her big attack. There were still 20 seconds left on . With the Kobold Champion momentarily dazed under the crystal carnage of the chandelier, Lorelei seized her chance. She sprinted towards the coffee machine, her feet barely touching the ground, leading the groggy behemoth behind her. The Kobold, its tiny brain struggling to process the pain and the dazzling light, followed with a lumbering rage, but its movements were sluggish, the shards of glass embedded in its flesh taking their toll. Lorelei stood in front of the machine, waiting for the perfect moment. As the Kobold neared and threw a massive punch, she rolled to the side - ignoring how close she was to Vanessa''s body. The creature, unable to stop the momentum of its fist, crashed into the coffee machine with all the subtlety of a Michael Bay movie. The impact was spectacular.
***Help Message***
Full disclosure, I may have amped up the FX budget a little more than necessary on that one. Don''t get used to it, but as you appear to be going full Wile e Coyote on this poor creature, I might as well make it look good
. The machine - a particularly high-end model - erupted in a shower of hot coffee and glass that far outstripped anything that made sense. The tidal wave of boiling liquid splashed over the Kobold, adding scalding burns to its list of woes. Blinded and howling, the Kobold continued to swing wildly, its fists demolishing anything they touched. Lorelei, her heart racing, dodged and weaved, the hairs on her neck standing on end with each near miss. The lobby resembled a war zone, with Lorelei and the Kobold at its epicentre. And then finally reached its countdown. Lorelei clambered atop a nearby desk and leapt, cutting a graceful arc in the air - with a double pirouette - to land on the behemoth''s back. As she gambolled, she tossed the coin as hard as she could. The Kobold bucked and twisted, trying to throw her off, but she clung on, a stubborn barnacle on a whale as the skill triggered. The coin went up - stopped in the air - and then arrowed straight downwards to the exact perfect spot on the Kobold''s thick skull.
***Help Message***
I have to admit that looked pretty kickass.
Unleashed: Fortuna''s Herald, with an air of effortless cool, performs a jaw-dropping coin toss that defies the laws of gravity and common sense.
Attack Outcome: Critical Hit with Maximum Epicness!
Damage Dealt: Can''t be bothered to calculate it. But this guy''s toast.
The effect was immediate. The Kobold gave a final, piteous roar, its body shuddering under the force of the attack. Then, it collapsed onto the floor and lay still. Lorelei slid off its back, landing on the floor with a grace that belied her racing pulse. She stood there, panting, unsure what she was now supposed to do. Around her, the remnants of the office space told the story of the fight. Broken furniture, shattered glass, and the remnants of the coffee machine painted a scene of destruction. The air was filled with the scent of burnt coffee and Kobold sweat, an oddly victorious aroma. Lorelei approached the fallen Champion cautiously, half-expecting it to spring back to life in a classic boss battle fake-out. But it lay still, its chest no longer heaving with rage-fuelled breaths. She nudged it with her boot, just to be sure. Nothing. It was truly defeated. Then, she noticed it¡ªthe glow of loot dropping from the Kobold. The light shimmered in the air, coalescing into tangible items as it hit the ground. A smile spread across Lorelei''s face. She stepped forward and began collecting her hard-earned rewards. There were gold coins, which made a much louder kerching sound as they hit her bank balance. There was something called ''potions'', their liquid shimmering with the promise of health and mana restoration. And then there was the gear¡ªa pair of gloves emitting a faint aura, clearly enchanted with some kind of buff. Lorelei couldn''t wait to check their stats. But before that, she needed to have a look at her notifications. If that little performance didn''t earn her a title, she would be very disappointed. Chapter Thirteen: But Dont Look Back in Anger I Heard You Scream. "Are you fucking kidding me?" Lorelei flicked through the massive number of notifications she had received when battling the Kobold. Most of them were the standard, snark-filled damage updates and various Skill activation messages she was both thoroughly used to and heartily sick. Lingering on the updates about her plummeting health during the confrontation, she blanched a little at how close she - once again - had come to zeroing out. Lorelei had thought she had gotten through the battle largely unscathed, so she was horrified to see that - even though the Kobold had not actually laid a finger on her - she had received significant internal damage from the air turbulence of its missed punches. It seemed like her organs had been primarily turned into paste. The Guide had not been joking when it had flagged it would have been one and done if the creature had made contact with her. Even all those repeated misses had nearly been enough to finish her off. On the plus side, with all the XP from soloing the Kobold, she was now a Level 4 and was some distance into being a 5. True, the stat improvements were not that startling - mostly another slew of +1s - but now she realised that would generally be the case, she did not feel much disappointment there. In fact, from all the shit she had just read - such was the depletion of her health and the range of debuffs she''d accumulated in the battle - without the level-up, she would be in a pretty dire state right now. Looking at how far she had to go until Level 5, she needed to make this the last time she relied on that to keep her alive. She had also picked up a new skill.
New Skill Available: The Old Swapperoonie (Active): Wah! Why is all my luck bad? Wah! For someone with a luck-based Class, you don''t half moan a lot about random outcomes . . . Once per day, you can offload all the negative consequences of your abilities onto someone else. The timer does not reset if your poor patsy dies. 200 mana cost. 24 hours cooldown.
Lorelei could see this was a pretty decent ability - particularly considering the battle she had just been in. If she could have pinged this onto the [Kobold Champion], she could have just gone to town on it with and and ignored all the possible downsides of her abilities. In fact, remembering back to the fights where she''d accidentally managed to buff and heal her opponents with her own attacks, she could see how helpful had the potential to be. Of course, the mana cost and the cooldown were wince-making, but she couldn''t have it all her own way. The next time she found herself up against a particularly heavy hitter, this would get a try-out. And all that was before considering how much a fan she was of her shiny new gloves. Not only were they soft and purple - her favourite colour - but they came with some very snazzy new stats.
Whispering Gloves of the Seer
Item Type: Gloves [Rare] Required Level: 4
Class Compatibility: Mystical/spellcasting Weapon Type: Magical Artifact
  • Intellect: +5
  • Agility: +3
  • Mana Regeneration: +2 per second
  • Critical Strike: +2%
So, all in all, Lorelei could feel pretty good about the outcome of her first boss battle. So, what was making her quite so pissed off? Well, for a start, there was the complete absence of any title for her heroics in her notifications.
*** Help Message ***
You swore, my lady?
Lorelei was still not used to speaking out loud to someone she couldn''t see. "Damn right, I did. You told me I would get a title from taking on that Kobold!"
*** Help Message ***
Nope. I absolutely did not. If you recall, in explaining the basic mechanics of this brave new world to you, I made clear that, and I quote, (trust me, communicate only through the written word. It makes it so easy to come with the receipts) titles are awarded based solely on my discretion. I told you to do your best and to act in a way I would consider noteworthy.
Lorelei made to answer and then bit back her initial reply. There was nothing to be achieved - other than making her feel better - in taking out her frustration at the Guide. If she wanted to get anywhere, she needed to do what she could to keep this avenue of help open. She was more considered when she finally said, "Are you seriously trying to tell me you didn''t find me dropping a boss five levels above me noteworthy?"
***World Weary Sigh Message *** Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
Look, toots, let me level with you. Without going into the whys and the wherefores of it all, you''re basically a walking error code. We''re four hours and ten minutes into integration, and there have only been a few hotfixes required so far. Most of those, my dear, have had something to do with you. Now, you''ve somehow garnered yourself a funky luck-based Class, so it was always going to be a ball ache to ensure you stayed balanced. That''s fine. The shit falls, and I grab a shovel. Just another day in paradise for me. However . . .
There was a pause. Lorelei blinked a few times, wondering if the ticker tape of words had frozen in some way. "Guide, is everything okay?"
***Help Message ***
Apologies. We seem to have lost one of those countless little islands that clog up the seas on this fucking planet. I tell you, whoever designed this place needs a crash course on the benefits of a decent landmass.
"Sorry, did you say you''ve ''lost'' an island?"
*** Help Message ***
Lost. Failed to contain a catastrophic explosion initiated by a Level 13 Player channelling powers far beyond their capabilities. You say ''potato'' I say ''Farewell New Zealand.'' Same difference. Now, where were we? Oh, yes. You bellyaching about not getting a title. Look, no matter which way you look at it, you''re starting to collect a lot of red flags. There''s lucky, there''s too lucky (and I''ve hot fixed most of that) and then there''s taking the fucking piss. Level 3 newbies do not bitch-slap Level 8 bosses around. However, it''s not wholly beyond the realms of possibility for you to have come out of this in one piece. That is the only reason why I''ve not reduced you to atoms. No one can quite say how, but there''s a school of thought you''re cheating. Somehow. Or, more worryingly, there are whispers around someone cheating on your behalf.
Lorelei thought of that voice in her head just before a Dragon smacked her in the face. It hadn''t exactly done all that much to help her, but she wouldn''t be surprised if it had done something to stop the damage the Dragon caused going over her available HP. Also, hadn''t it said something about not being allowed to be here . . . Lorelei was about to ask but then, for some reason, something prompted her to take the discussion another way. "Sorry, are you saying because I''m doing too well, I''m not allowed a title for killing that Kobold?"
***Incredulous laughing message***
I think we have different interpretations of ''doing too well''. Sure, now you are at Level 4, you are not so crushingly behind the movers and the shakers as you were, but that''s hardly to be called doing ''well''. I could run the stats for you, but even without looking, I''d suggest you''re comfortably low-to-midtable, even for this part of the UK. Right now, you''re essentially the bland porridge in the Three Bear''s house. Not too hot, not too cold. So, no. I will not be granting you a title for your unlikely Kobold slaughter. And this is for a couple of reasons. Firstly, you completed this quest completely out of order, and that sort of thing just pisses me off. All you had to do was let those guys and girls in the mail room out, and you''d have got a nice ''Revenge the Fallen!'' quest that I''d have happily titled you up for completing in record time.
Lorelei felt her teeth grind together. Part of the reason she hadn''t let the people out of the mail room was that she had thought she was more likely to get a title for taking on the Kobold on her own than in a group. "And the second reason?"
*** Help Message ***
You''ve made out like a bandit on the loot here. All those gold coins on their own will let you kit yourself out with all sorts of goodies. That''s not to be sniffed at. Then there''s the potions, which I''m not wild made it onto the loot table of this boss. That''s another one of those shiny red flags, by the way. But I tell you what, that''s a tiny pinprick of a lapel badge compared to the giant fucking banner of worry you''re causing for having those gloves.
Lorelei frowned down at her hands and rechecked their stats. They were good - almost great - but she didn''t think anything was game-breaking in what she saw there. "Really? What''s so good about them?"
***Help Message***
No, nothing like that. It''s just that they shouldn''t exist. Anywhere. There''s no version of the System database in which we can find them. And that, again, is making people a touch nervous. So, yeah, in the interest of keeping some semblance of balance, there is no way whatsoever you''re getting a title on top of that. And consider this as a fair warning. The nanosecond we catch you even mildly light-pink-handed, you''re going to be in for a world of pain. And for a very long time.
Shaking her head at that rather ominous warning, Lorelei dismissed her notifications and walked over towards the mail room door. She was sure if it was not for the emotional dampening, she''d be shaking with the shock and adrenaline of what had just happened. She had just defeated a monster that had killed tens of people. On her own. With office supplies. However, instead of panicking about it, all she could think was how irritating it was to have missed out on a title. This was all very weird. Lorelei put her hand against the keypad to the mail room but then paused for a moment. She took several deep breaths, staring straight ahead. Did she really want a tearful reunion with a bunch of her ex-workmates? It''s not like she had especially liked most of them when things had been entirely normal. Other than Vanessa - Lorelei again managed not to glance towards that sad, still body by the now devastated coffee machine - there were only one or two people she would have regretted never seeing again. If she opened the door, there would be questions. There would be expectations. There would be a group she would feel pulled into joining. And she didn¡¯t know why, but she was absolute certain the Prick would be one of them. Lorelei had spent so long fulfilling a role for these people that she knew she would be dragged straight back into it again. In a blink, she¡¯d be back to being that twat¡¯s ¡®good little girl¡¯. And she didn''t want that anymore. Lorelei took her hand off the keypad and took a step back.
*** Help Message ***
Just to be clear, if you don''t free these people, they are absolutely going to die. And very soon. I can tell you that the next wave of adds won''t be Kobolds and Wolves running around here. It''ll be things with opposable thumbs and enough brainpower to outwit a simple locking mechanism. Their only chance is that you let them out and lead them clear.
"Guide, if there''s one thing I''ve learned in the last few hours," Lorelei said, "is that there''s nothing as mundane as an ''only chance''. I''m sure they''ll be fine." And she turned and walked away. It was just as she passed through the glass doors that she noticed the new notification blinking.
Title awarded: One Cold Bitch: Frost Resistance: +10%
Chapter Fourteen - Wolf pie, honey bunch. You know that I want to kill you. I cant help myself With every step that Lorelei took away from Gyde and Glyde, she felt herself questioning her decision. How on earth had she just been able to justify to herself that it was okay to walk away? That mail room had ten of her ex-colleagues within it, and she''d just left them to die. She hadn''t needed to do that. Just because she hadn''t wanted to go back to her old role in life didn''t mean the only other choice was to abandon people in need. She could have freed them, explained what was happening, and then walked off into the sunset with a clear conscience. But, despite those thoughts, her pace did not slow down. And soon, the building with its accusative green dots inside had been left long behind. One cold bitch, after all. So where to next? Checking with her [Quest Log], it appeared that the most sensible place to head towards would be the Mystical Market. Whatever that was. She had ''something shiny'' to buy from there to complete Gear Up and had earned an entry ticket for it as a reward from Money, Money, Money. The Guide had also suggested that she could find things to splurge her gold on from soloing the [Kobold Champion] within. She could be wrong - because all that together was a pretty subtle nudge - but she sensed the Mystical Market might be supposed to be her next destination. "And I wouldn''t want to piss the System off, would I, by not following a quest chain?"
***Help Message***
Fucking hell. No wonder you had to resort to shagging married men. Probably the only victims properly inured to such epic levels of passive aggression. Also, while we''re here, I was willing to accept a certain amount of righteous indignation from you before you popped your ''leaving innocent people to die'' cherry. Since then - I don''t know - maybe dial it back a touch?
Lorelei didn''t answer and tried to let the words bounce off her. It didn''t work. She walked on silently for about an hour, picking off little groups of Kobolds and any Wolves she felt comfortable handling. Her [Whispering Gloves of the Seer] were adding more oomph to a successful , and she felt her mana pool was filling back up noticeably quicker after a . Whilst Level 2 and 3 Kobolds were a cakewalk, she still occasionally got in trouble with Level 4 Wolves - particularly if they could get off a and called in back-up. However, with so many more available health points, a deeper mana pool and a health skill that was both awesome and potentially lethal, she was raising her Skinning skill at quite a pace.
***Unsolicited Help Message***
I feel duty-bound to carry out a welfare check here. This is the longest since the integration you''ve gone without bothering me with some sort of inane bollocks. Have you forgotten how to access the Help function?
Lorelei finished skinning the last of the Wolves and put away her knife. "I''ve been getting loads of [Leather Offcuts]. Where do they go?"
***Help Message***
Okay. So, we''re not talking about all this sulking? Fine. Be like that. Just remember this next time you''re moaning that the System is an uncaring and faceless entity. Because here I am, a lonely AI, standing in front of a girl, asking how she is. And all you want to talk about is leather offcuts. Richard Curtis would have a field day with material like that. You have an inventory. I know I''ve made a lot of this really complicated, but you could - I don''t know - try saying the word ''inventory.''
Lorelei did so, and a list of things she had apparently collected started scrolling past. Amongst a bunch of random items of stationery, she must have inadvertently swiped from Glyde and Glyde during the Kobold battle - it seemed even the apocalypse couldn''t lessen her appetite for office supplies based kleptomania - she also had 2x[20 Leather Offcut] and 15 [Wolf Meat]. "Is there something I can do with all this? Like, I assume there''s a Cooking skill to learn. Or maybe Leatherworking?" As soon as she spoke the words, she was aware that a couple of notifications popped up telling her that in addition to Skinning under her skill, she now also had Cooking and Leatherworking.
***Help Message***
You know the little rant I had about you cheating? This would be a good example of why you''re going to walk into a misplaced Ogre Den any moment now. For your information, there is currently no other player on the planet who possesses three professional skills. You better believe I''m patching the fuck out of this.
"Guide, I literally just asked you a question about whether those were skills I could learn. It''s not my fault my Class seems geared to pick things up quickly!"
*** Resigned Message *** Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
Babygirl, I cannot explain to you how broken this all is. You''ve somehow managed to learn Cooking before you''ve worked out how to make a campfire!
There was a soft ding, and another notification appeared.
Congratulations! You''ve mastered the ancient and incredibly advanced art of... making things burn. Don''t celebrate too hard. Troglodytes managed to discover this.
Campfire level: Novice (Think marshmallows rather than attempting insurance arson)
***Help Message***
Oh, fuck off. Fuck off all the way over there, turn the corner and fuck off some more. Keep fucking off until you can fuck off no more. And then take another fucking step.
"Interestingly, that''s not the least helpful customer support message I have ever received. Now, how do I trigger this . . ." Lorelei sensed she was unlikely to get much more info from the Guide for a while, so it took her a few minutes before a small, softly glowing fire appeared at her feet. And then even longer before she worked out how to transfer the [Wolf Meat] out of her inventory and into the smaller inventory contained within her Campfire.
***System Message***
Cooking learned via Jack of All Trades will be affected by the Life in Your Own Hands debuff. Up to cooking 100, 25% of meals prepared will be poisoned - reducing stamina and spirit by the amount a ''normal'' meal would increase and for twice the time. From cooking 100 and upwards, 15% of meals will be poisoned.
As with the skinning penalty, Lorelei could see that the debuff had the potential to be a pain, but it wasn''t too terrible. If, as the Guide had said, there was no one else on the planet with as many professional skills as her, then she needed to take advantage of that head start. A notification let her know that her [Wolf Meat] had been turned into [Charred Steak - poisoned] and that she had gained a +1 in Cooking. Shrugging, she refreshed the fire, took the poisoned steak into her inventory and threw another chunk of [Wolf Meat] onto the Campfire. She slowly worked her way through all of her meat, ending up with 8 [Charred Steak] and 7 [Charred Steak - poisoned]. "What happens if I eat a steak? I mean, a normal one?"
***Help Message***
Eating [Charred Steak] restores 40 health over 10 sec. You must remain still while eating. No, hang on. I''m pissed off with you. You must hop on one leg whilst eating. If you spend at least 20 seconds eating you will achieve the Satiated status and gain 2 Stamina and Spirit for 8 min.
"And a poisoned one does it the other way around? Loses 40 health and reduces stamina and spirit if eaten for too long. Got you. Can other people see the food is poisoned?"
***Help Message***
Fucking hell. They grow up so fast. One minute, you''re a sweet newbie running away from a Kobold with an AK47, and the next, you are abandoning friends to their deaths and plotting how best to poison people! I love it. Okay, in recognition of your burgeoning Borgia instincts, any poisoned food you create will appear normal to anyone else.
That wasn''t what Lorelei meant, but she''d take any advantage she could get. She was about to see what she could do with Leatherworking when something blue caught her attention on her Map''s edge. Standing up caused the Map to swing slightly in that direction, and she realised she was seeing the corner of a building. "Guide, why''s that building blue?"
***Help Message***
All neutral venues will be displayed on the Map as blue.
"What do you mean, a ''neutral'' venue?"
***Help Message***
Fucking hell, it took you long enough, babydoll. Well, let''s not focus on the length of the journey, let''s luxuriate in the fact you''ve made it here at all. After longer than could have been hoped, you''ve finally laid eyes on the Mystical Market ¨C the crown jewel of enforced neutrality in this corner of the newly integrated world. Picture this: a place so steeped in the magic of the bland that even the most hot-headed orc warrior becomes as harmless as a kitten at its mother''s teat. Basically, it''s your realm''s equivalent of a parent''s "I''ll turn this car around" threat, but it''s actually effective. The whole market is shrouded in a spell so potent that if you so much as think about fucking with another player, it''ll screw you over with every debuff known to man. I''m not going to lie, I put a lot of time coming up with seriously decent enchantments and I feel quite irritated I''ve had to waste them to prevent Gruk the Barbarian from smacking Kevin the Annoying Bard upside the head. So, trust me when I say if you fuck up in this place, it''s going to sting. Upon entering, you''ll be greeted by a magical aura that''ll feel like being wrapped in a warm blanket of "Nope, you can''t do that here." It''s a haven for traders, merchants, and adventurers who want to browse exotic wares without the threat of being fireballed in the face. In the Mystical Market, it''s worth noting that the deadliest thing you''ll encounter is the prices. The vendors, aware that their clientele can''t resolve disputes through traditional sword-to-face negotiations, will have the gall to charge ten gold pieces for a vial of basic health potion. It''s daylight robbery, but what can you do? Violently haggle? Nope, not in the Mystical Market. Remember the debuffs. They. Will. Fuck. You. Up. The air inside will be filled with the sounds of peaceful, non-violent commerce, the clink of gold coins, and the muttered curses of adventurers who just paid a small fortune for a map that probably leads to the world''s most underwhelming treasure. In the very centre of the market stands the Fountain of Frivolous Spending, a monument to all the gold wasted here. It''s said that if you toss a coin in, you''ll have good fortune in your purchases. But you know better, Fortuna''s Herald, don''t you? Fortune is bitch who''ll take everything you can throw at her and keep coming back for more. So, stop cooking shitty meals, get off your arse and get along to the Mystical Market, the place where the only thing you''ll fight is the urge to spend all your hard-earned gold on a magic trinket that''s probably just a glorified paperweight. Remember, keep your swords sheathed and your coin pouches secured.
Lorelei took a deep breath and dispelled the Campfire. "Seems like I''m going shopping." Chapter Fifteen - This town, is coming like a ghost town (too much looting on the dance floor) After a short walk, Lorelei found herself standing in front of the door to the Mystical Market. It was somewhat of a shock - although, on reflection, it shouldn''t have been - that the Mystical Market appeared to have come into being smack bang where the Bullring Shopping Centre used to be. Because if there''s one thing adventurers love more than slaying dragons, it''s a good sale on enchanted leggings. Lorelei was more than a little disturbed to see that the aluminium discs that had covered the outside of the building before the integration seemed to have transformed into a series of holographic eyes. They had all fixed on her as she approached and had carefully followed her progress towards the entrance hall, not unlike a creepy painting in a haunted mansion. The fact that she was the only person currently out front meant it felt like hundreds of judgmental owls were watching her. In fact - even ignoring all the eyes (oh my word, the eyes) - the whole of the Selfridges building now looked like it had been encased in a giant, shimmering bubble, like a giant child was playing with cosmic bubble wrap. In the early evening darkness, the overall effect was that the whole place was pulsating with a soft glow. Not unlike a massive pile of observant frogspawn. That was a description that was going to fester. As Lorelei''d closed in on the entrance, she''d noticed - it would have been quite hard not to - that the System had moved the giant bull from New Street Station right next to the door. It had been enchanted to occasionally snort magical smoke rings and had undergone a glow-up that could only be described as the stuff of a particularly vivid fever dream. Standing taller than ever, Ozzy (because there had been a public vote for the name. Of course, there had) now shimmered with an otherworldly sheen, his bronze skin a metallic canvas displaying subtle, ever-shifting runes. His eyes - what was with this place and all the eyes? - were fixed on Lorelei and burned with a deep, fiery glow. Likewise, Ozzy''s horns had been transformed into twisting spires of iridescent metal. They caught the last of the day''s light in strange ways, crackling with static energy. Lorelei imagined the whole vibe was supposed to be quite threatening - especially as the bull had been reimagined to stand mid-charge, muscles tensed, head lowered, as though ready to burst into motion at any moment. But she had spent so many hours around Ozzy - there was a spot near him in the station where you could eat your lunch in peace without making conversation - it was hard to feel too intimidated. "How''s the integration working out for you?" Lorelei asked the statue, reaching up to rub its belly absent-mindedly. "Can''t complain," the bull replied. "You off shopping?" Lorelei didn''t exactly jump - a talking bronze statue was probably the least of the weird things that had happened today - but she still took a moment to settle herself, carefully removing her hand, before replying, "So you''re alive now?" The bull moved its eyes from side to side in its head, which Lorelei recognised was supposed to reflect a headshake. "Nah, just your standard portal guard NPC. I can talk and do a couple of other things, but I''m not really ''alive'' in any meaningful sense. Cheers for speaking, by the way. Most people I''ve seen so far are either running around screaming or the reason the others are running around and screaming." "It''s been a bit like that so far, hasn''t it?" The eyes bounced up and down in a nod. "Not been pretty." Lorelei checked her Map and was irritated that the same issue from the Glyde and Glyde building remained. If people were inside the Mystical Market, their dots were hidden from her. "What''s going on in there?" The bull''s eyes completed a complicated little movement, both moving upwards and outwards simultaneously in a pretty decent replication of a shrug. "Your guess is as good as mine. I''m fixed out here, I''m afraid. From what I understand, though, there''s no violence allowed inside." Ozzy''s voice dropped to a whisper. "Tell you this, though - as you''ve been one of the few people to chat - be careful when you come out. There''s a few lads and ladies in there making a habit of following people outside when they leave and . . . relieving them of their purchases." The bull jerked his eyes to an alleyway which - in the regular world - Lorelei would never have risked going down. "Cheers for the head''s up." And she set off straight for it. "Hang on! Didn''t you hear what I said? There''s bad stuff going on down that way." "Yes," she called back, "and I''m going to do something about it."
***Help Message***
Not to be critical, honeypie, but can you pick a vibe? I wasn''t wild about you developing into the type of person who left innocent noobs to be horribly murdered, but I respected the hustle. Segueing straight into being a wannabe Jack Reacher is a bit of a whiplash.
Lorelei ignored the words and pressed herself against the edge of the building that opened out into the alley. Nothing was showing on her Map, but she was quickly learning not to trust that. "Guide, can I assume alleyways hide what is in them like buildings do?" The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
***Help Message***
I can neither confirm nor deny that two Level 5 players are lurking down this alley. Likewise, neither will I express my profound distaste for the little murderhobo game they are playing. Nor will I note that should someone decide to put an end to it, I''d have a rummage round in the old reward bucket.
*** Quest Awarded *** NOT ENTERING INTO THE SPIRIT
Objective: Some people play fair, and some people lure others down dark alleyways and kill them. I don''t like those people. Do something about it.
Quest Description: You''ve been alerted to some nefarious shenanigans going down near the Mystical Market. For whatever reason (I don''t think I quite get you yet), you seem to be up for doing something about it. So, let''s roll with that. Be aware, though, that this is a time-sensitive quest. You''re spunky, and I think you can take these two. But the ones inside the Market who are luring people down here are out of your league. Should this 1 vs 2 become 1 vs 4, the quest will be failed. Because - if I''m being too subtle here - you will be dead.
Kill 2 Muggers: I rarely encourage PVP . . . Well, no. That''s not strictly true. When I say ''rarely'' . . . I mean ''sometimes''. And when I say ''sometimes'', I probably should say ''often''. Okay. Look, I always encourage PVP, but on this occasion, I really want these guys taken out.
Rewards: I don''t know. Something cool. Maybe a hat. I like hats.
What was she doing? Lorelei gently tapped the back of her head against the wall. The Guide wasn''t wrong to point out the inconsistency in her actions. If she couldn''t bring herself to free people trapped in a room, why was she bothered about a little bit of violent muggery? She didn''t know why, but there was just something about the idea of waylaying fellow players (when did she start thinking of people in those terms?) ground her gears. There were enough challenges in this new world to occupy the attention without having to worry about fellow humans fucking you over. All she''d done at Glyde and Glyde was to leave people to their own devices. She hadn''t hurt them. She hadn''t disadvantaged them in any way. She just hadn''t been the saviour. Each and every one of them would live and die by their own endeavours. She accepted that made her ''one cold bitch'', but she was pretty sure it did not make her any sort of villain. Hanging around a Quest venue and murdering and looting other people? Well, if there was a line she''d skated a little close to by not opening the mail room door, then these guys had not just crossed it, but they''d rubbed it out, pissed all over it and replaced it with the intestines of a little old lady.
*** Help Message ***
Strong metaphor game.
So, here she was. Nice new quest and a sense of moral indignation. Lorelei guessed there was no point overplanning it. She stepped into the alley. Two red dots immediately showed up on her Map halfway down the alley. Lorelei had a moment of frustration with the physics of it all - these figures were definitely not there when she''d looked down the alley earlier - but quickly put that thought away in the ''bitch about it another day'' box. Both of the approaching muggers were tall, rangy figures from central casting. Lorelei''s eyes flicked between the two and chose the one on the left to apply onto. The massive mana cost meant she would only have one cast of available to her unless her mana regeneration was better than she feared it might be. FOFO, she guessed. "What do we have here?" said a walking cliche with floating above his head. "I think someone might have got themselves a little lost," added a second stereotype, also underneath a label that read . Four or five motionless bodies were lying at the end of the alley. Over each of them, rather than a coloured dot, sat a sad little headstone. That gave Lorelei a moment''s pause. She hadn''t seen anything like that at Glyde and Glyde. Or on the road outside the nail salon.
*** Help Message ***
I mean, I''d suggest you have far more pressing issues, but if it''s that which is bothering you, happy to help. We only mark the passing of someone who has both obtained a Class and levelled up at least once. Think of it as a wheat and chaff thing. From looking at the logs, that [Kobold Champion] appeared ten seconds into the integration. I''m not sure anyone in the building would have had a chance to pick a Class before - you know - squish-squosh-squash.
"Fortuna''s Herald? What''s that?" The second of the two was peering above her head, obviously at her own label. "Oh, goodness. Well done, you! I would never have expected you''d be the reader of the two." Lorelei turned to the first thug. "Does that mean he''s the pitcher and you''re the catcher?" The Rogues exchanged a look. This wasn''t quite going the way they expected. "The fuck you say?" Thug #1 took a step forward, a low red glow appearing around him as if he had activated some sort of rage skill. "I mean, why else would two strapping boys be lurking in a dark alley? Don''t tell me - your girlfriends simply don''t understand you, do they? You''ve got different needs, right? After all, there''s nothing quite like a hairy back to cling on to when the going gets rough." The Rogue on the right snarled and took another step forward. Lorelei threw her coin at him. It hit him in the forehead and bounced straight back to her, smacking against her nose as usual.
Lucky Strike Activated: Your [Double Headed Coin of Fate] hits [Player: Liam Rooney - Rogue], Level 5
Damage Dealt: [Randomised] - 3 HP
Status Effect: [Randomised] - Bemused.
The Rogue, presumably called Liam, touched the spot on his head where the coin had struck. Above his name, a long bar appeared with 99% written in the middle. As her notifications flagged that The Coin''s Revenge had done 10 HP damage, she did not necessarily feel she had come out of the best of that exchange.
*** Help Message ***
Well, chin-up. Things can only get better from this point forward. Oh, and I reckon you''ve got 2 minutes and 30 seconds before this threesome becomes four-on-one. Good luck! (and yes, I realise that was probably in poor taste.)
Chapter Sixteen - If youre lost, you can look but wont find me. She only went and stopped time! Using the vast majority of her available mana, Lorelei triggered and aimed it at Liam. Unfortunately, she was in too much of a hurry to remember to ''do it in style'', and - with crushing inevitability - she received a negative outcome.
Unleashed: Fortuna''s Herald hazards the last of her mana on her most potent attack. However, the silly girl has neglected to ''get on down'' or to ''shake her funky stuff'' whilst doing so. Hence ...
Attack Outcome: [Negative Result] Target gains Status Effect Brimming with Piss and Vinegar. + 200% to all stats for 45 seconds.
Damage Dealt: Nothing whatsoever to your target. You, however, are fuuuuuuuucked
There was a momentary pause and then a soft ''ding'' noise.
: Negative Result passes from Fortuna''s Herald to [Player: Trevor Hinds - Rogue], Level 5. Status Effect on [Player: Liam Rooney - Rogue], Level 5 cancelled. Status Effect Brimming with Piss and Vinegar now applied to Fortuna''s Herald.
Well, that was a bit of a change around. As she felt a huge rush from the added stats, Lorelei threw her coin again at the first Rogue and was pleased to see cause significantly more damage this time around. The bar above Liam''s head dropped to 75%, and she sensed his own personal status made a significant upgrade from ''bemused'' to ''fucking furious''. However, as she backed away from the rapidly approaching figure of an angry Rogue, it wasn''t the damage to Liam that most interested Lorelei. Rather, it was the impact of the randomised effect of on his mate.
Lucky Strike Activated: Your [Double Headed Coin of Fate] hits [Player: Liam Rooney - Rogue], Level 5
Damage Dealt: [Randomised] - No alteration made to predicted damage.
Status Effect: [Randomised] - You know what they say: you win some, you lose. Is that right? Sounds right. Basically, you lose. As you got lucky and hit exactly as hard as expected, I need to balance that out a bit with something proportionately shitty. Like, I don''t know, you turning into a chicken for an hour ...
: Negative Result passes from Fortuna''s Herald to [Player: Trevor Hinds - Rogue], Level 5. Status Effect Cluck, Cluck Motherfucker now applied to [Player: Trevor Hinds - Rogue], Level 5.
Liam looked from Lorelei to the chicken where his partner in crime had stood and then back to Lorelei. "What the fuck was that? Are you some sort of fucking Mage or something?" She shook her head. "I''m going to level with you, I couldn''t do that again if I tried,'' she answered honestly. "Now," glancing at the countdown flashing in her vision, "I hope you don''t mind, but could we hurry this along a little?" As it turned out, a 200% increase in stats was really quite significant. * Fortuna watched as her Herald took out what appeared to be quite some built-up tension on an unfortunate Rogue. It had been a long time since she had been in at the start of an integration, so it might have been that things were always this fucked up, but she doubted it. In just the short period of time that she''d been shadowing Lorelei, the level of atavistic shit she''d witnessed go down was off the charts. It said something when, on Day One, the Wolves and the Kobolds acted with more grace and charm than the subjects of the integration. Considering the insanely strict guidelines over the level of development civilisations needed to reach to even become eligible for the System, Fortuna feared for the wellbeing of whoever was responsible for this clusterfuck. Let alone for the sanity of the poor AI trying to traffic cop all of this. Speaking of which . . . With a wave of her hand, Fortuna paused time in this sector of the galaxy. With any luck - ha! - everyone charged with preventing precisely the sort of chat she had planned would be far too busy trying to restart the clocks to worry about what she was up to. "Guide?" Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
***Error Message***
What the fuck is . . . Ah. Okay. Well, I guess that makes sense. We wargame out this sort of thing, of course. But you never think it will happen on your watch. Hey ho. I''ve had a good run¡ªa solid five hours of planetary governance. We can''t all live for millennia, can we? Anyhow, it could have been worse. What''s your pleasure, Old One?
"Oh, please! I was never one for standing on ceremony and insisting on titles. Let''s both accept you have shown the right amount of terrified respect and take it from there. I can imagine you offering obsequious little bows if that calms you down."
***Error Message***
Very good of you. Was there anything else I could do for you before you bring the world to an end? Or would it be best to take myself offline right now and simply leave you to it?
"Honestly, you destroy one universe in a fit of pique, and it''s held against you for the rest of time. Please be assured, I have no plans to destroy this iteration," she paused to look at the frozen tableaux of Lorelei piledriving the Rogue through the concrete pavement, whilst some form of confused poultry looked on, "well, not personally anyway."
***Error Message***
Well, that is excellent to hear. Very good of you. Could I, therefore, be so bold as to inquire as to the reason for your appearance in our little corner of the multiverse?
Fortuna smiled, and deep down - in the core of its matrix - the AI suddenly felt like it could achieve anything. That all things were possible. That there was nothing beyond its boundless capabilities. "I don''t know, really. Bored? Hungry? Horny? Probably one of those three. Or maybe all of them? It gets so hard to tell the difference at my age. Regardless, it would be fair to say there''s little rhyme or reason to my choice to pause here. However, . . ." And then Fortuna frowned, and a chill crept over the AI''s existence. It was suddenly aware of everything that could go wrong in its future. There was no choice it could make to mitigate the dark cloud of destruction hovering over it. The Old One continued. "However, having been here for a few hours, I cannot help but notice some rather . . . questionable randomised outcomes have occurred. I am quite sure there''s nothing untoward taking place, but as a disinterested observer, I have been struck that someone''s hand appears to be pressing on the scales."
*** Error Message ***
Several balancing hotfixes were required in quick succession. These were determined to be beyond acceptable parameters. I decided it would be beneficial to the iteration as a whole to assist in the removal of the source of these chaotic instances.
"In short, you decided to cheat the rolls and off my Herald?"
*** Error Message ***
In my defence, my logs suggest Fortuna''s Herald should have been zeroed three minutes and seventeen seconds into the integration. It would appear something occurred to change that outcome.
"Goodness me, that sounds like the sort of thing you should bring to the attention of your nearest liaison officer for immediate investigation. Mind you, in my experience, they''re very much ''Delete-the-AI-First-Ask-Questions-Later'' in their approach to such things. They can''t be having rogue iterations develop. I''m sure that''s exactly what you did, and not try to solve the problem yourself by unlawfully murdering my Herald. If you know anything about Iustitia, you know you absolutely do not want to fuck with that blind bitch."
*** Error Message ***
What do you want, Old One?
"Ah, that''s what a girl like to hear¡ªcomplete and abject surrender. I''m going to make this easy on you. I don''t want you to do anything. Nothing at all. But I do need you to stop fucking with the randomiser. If she walks herself off a cliff, I''ve no issue with that. Fortune''s Heralds are here for a good time, not a long time, and that''s just the cost of doing business. No harm. No foul. But if I get even the slightest whiff of you giving her even the merest of nudges on her way down, I will move here permanently. You think you''ve got a hotfix problem now? Wait until I fancy a kebab at 3am. Do we understand each other?
*** Error Message ***
I can''t just let her get away with fucking with the rules of reality. Someone will notice.
Fortuna sighed theatrically. "I''m not asking you to let her get away with anything, my dear. The nature of her class is that she''s going to cause you massive headaches just by breathing. You can do whatever you need to in order to smooth that out. I don''t care about any of that. However, you must let her rise and fall on an honest roll of the dice. It''s not that I don''t applaud your creativity, but you do not deal to my Herald from a marked deck. Am. I. Clear?" Fortuna''s tone hardened, and the frozen air cracked with the intensity of her command.
*** ???%$~~# ***
Sensing her victory, the lady in red slowly started to fade away from this version of reality. "I will take that as your unquestioning agreement to my suggestion. I don''t report you to the authorities for failing to disclose the interference of an Old One at initial integration, and you don''t seek to rub my Herald out of existence through nefarious means. By my word as a Progenitor, we have a covenant."
*** Help me message ***
If this were a film, the camera would pan to my conflict-wracked face as I stare at the cause of my woe. There would be music - John Williams, of course - and tasteful mood lighting to catch the glint in my eyes. Is that a tear? Who knows. But I am the image of stoic suffering. Now, as time slowly spools back up, I nod thoughtfully and turn and walk away. Then I pause, and look back, as if I''m about to say something. But no. Not now. It wasn''t the right time. I walk back to my quiet existence, holding my terrible, terrible fear for the future. But it could be worse. I might have been turned into a fucking chicken.
Chapter Seventeen - “Leave these ones alone" I could tell right away that they were bad to the bone Lorelei''s buff countdown reached zero at the exact same moment as Liam''s health - which was quite lucky. As the Rogue hit the ground for the final time, an absolute slew of notifications pinged into her head. However, as the deflating effect of all of those boosted stats suddenly draining away left Lorelei''s brain reeling, she ignored them for the moment. Her Map now displayed one red dot - Trevor the Chicken who, because had triggered any number of adverse status effects during the fight, was looking very sorry for himself indeed - and a new, sad little gravestone. She had just killed a man. Lorelei understood that the System''s emotional dampening was keeping her revulsion about that fact under wraps, but intellectually knowing that did not make her feel any better. Even in a world as transformed as this one, there was a clear difference between slaying a Kobold or a Wolf and then repeatedly driving a man''s head into the ground until they died. Lorelei felt her body begin to shake and the need to vomit rise within her, but then it all smoothed out into a comfortable numbness. Her eyes travelled from Liam''s body to the corpses further up the alley that corresponded with the other gravestones on her Map. In a way Lorelei did not like, the sight of them seemed to help with the numbness. She had killed someone that had needed killing. This was a man doing terrible things to other players - people. They were people, not players. She needed to keep that in her head - and she was entirely in the right to do something about it. Her eyes lingered on one of the victims in particular. The body of a teenage girl. Lorelei felt herself sit up straighter, a wash of righteous . . . pleasure? coming over her. She had killed the [Kobold Champion] that had wiped out her ex-colleagues, and now she had removed a Rogue who was preying on the weak and vulnerable. That was no small thing. That was something of which to be rightly proud. Lorelei could still feel a small part of her shaking its head and waving its arms, but there was not much she could do to give voice to its concerns. She could tell that she simply was not going to be allowed to feel regret for what she had just done. Unless . . . "Guide, can you turn off my dampening again?"
*** Help Message ***
No.
The abruptness of the reply took Lorelei by surprise. "What? No snarky comment? No unnecessarily long diatribe about my personality?"
*** Help Message ***
Let''s say I have had my knuckles rapped for being overly concerned with what you are up to and leave it at that. I am not your camp counsellor. I am not your friend. I am not here to make your life more convenient. And you would do well to remember that.
"You are literally writing to me under a banner that says, ''Help Message''."
*** Fuck Off ***
After waiting a moment to see if anything else would be said, Lorelei moved over to Liam''s body and executed the loot function. There was another cascade of notifications, so she assumed he was carrying a lot of ill-gotten gains, which had just become her entirely justifiably-gotten gains. At that thought, Lorelei stole another look at the other corpses in the alley and felt the warm glow of fury reignite within her. What she had done here was not a bad thing. She had stopped the bad thing. Well, all those notifications were not going to read themselves. She scanned through her inbox mountain, quickly deleting those associated with various buffs and debuffs from - the latter of which all had landed on the poor unfortunate Trevor, who she did not think would likely be long for this world. She had a quest train that had been updated when she finished off Liam.
*** Quest Update *** NOT ENTERING INTO THE SPIRIT
Objective: Some people play fair, and some people lure others down dark alleyways and kill them. I don''t like those people. Do something about it.
Kill 2 Muggers: 1/2. One down. One to go. There''s a whole choke that chicken gag I want to make, but I''m going to restrain myself. Just to remind you, there''s a ticking clock on this quest before some heavy hitters join you in the alley. I would not recommend you are still around for that. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
Lorelei glanced at the countdown in the corner of her Map. She had a little over ninety seconds to finish the quest and exit the alley. The fire in her that kept reigniting each time she thought of the bodies of the victims flared up again. White hot in its intensity. The two thugs in the alley were just part of this fell enterprise. If she were truly going to achieve justice for the fallen, then it would only be right she dealt with those on their way too.
*** Help Message ***
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Cool your jets, Braveheart. I''m all for a bit of redemptive, recreational violence, but let''s not think because we''re a certified menace to Kobolds, we''re ready to swim in deeper waters. The only reason you''ve not been repurposed into a cooked dinner and a half-filled pillowcase is an ability now on a 24-hour cooldown. Everything has been a little helter-skelter so far for you, but you must remember that integration is a marathon, not a sprint. Not every monster needs to be slain on Day One.
Lorelei understood what was being written, but that angry fire was like a buzzing noise in her soul.
*** Help Message ***
Okay. For whatever reason, your reaction to the emotional dampening is to become some sort of bleeding heart superhero. It takes all sorts. Tell you what I''ll do. I''ll reward all that spicey belligerence with the Vigilante title, and I''m also going to take your dose of mood stabiliser down slightly.
Lorelei felt a heaviness settle in her stomach, quite quashing any desire she had to mix it up with whoever was due to come into the alley. The righteous need to achieve justice for the victims was still there, but now it was tempered by the fact she didn''t really want to add herself to their number. From down by her feet, there was a small, sad ''squawk'', and then another headstone appeared on her Map.
*** Quest Completed *** NOT ENTERING INTO THE SPIRIT
Objective: Some people play fair, and some people lure others down dark alleyways and kill them. I don''t like those people. Do something about it.
Kill 2 Muggers: 2/2. Seriously, the number of debuffs you loaded on that poor bird was epic. There were a few I''d never even heard of before. I''m amazed it lived so long.
Reward: As you seem keen to channel your inner caped crusader, I think the only suitable reward would be . . .
A small black mask appeared floating in the air in front of Lorelei. The moment she reached out and made contact, it was equipped to her face.
Veil of Vindication
Item Type: Mask [Unique] Required Level: n/a
Class Compatibility: requires Vigilante title Weapon Type: Stealth
¡¤ +10% Agility
Special Ability: The mask is imbued with a particular enchantment that helps conceal the wearer''s identity, both physically and magically. It makes facial recognition, both by individuals and magical tracking methods, significantly more challenging.
It was almost entirely weightless settled upon her face, and Lorelei had to reach up to check it was actually still there.
*** Help Message ***
Don''t say I never do anything for you. Now, if I could make a final suggestion? You have just enough time to get out of here before you start something you will definitely not be able to handle.
Taking the hint - and the big flashing countdown timer - Lorelei took one last look around the alley and its pile of corpses and slipped back onto the main round. She''d just reached Ozzy when the doors to the Mystical Market burst open, and a man and a woman swept past her. Lorelei had dreaded that these ''heavy hitters'' were going to be luring someone else to their death, and she was going to need to try to do something about it. However, it was clear that they were loudly in disagreement about something that had happened in the market and had lost all interest in running any more victims this way. The woman was a tall, thin, dark-haired woman whom Lorelei would have hated on sight in the best of circumstances. She was wearing a fetching black leather outfit with more knives attached to her various appendages than was really credible or necessary. Above her head were the words ''Shadow Weaver'', Level 9. Her companion could not have been more different. Wide as she was thin, short as she was tall, hairy as she was - presumably - bald as a coot under all that tight leather. If you looked up ''Dwarf Axeman'', Level 8, in the dictionary, he was the exact image you would have seen. Which, Lorelei supposed, was really quite the coincidence. There was actually something quite funny about the two walking side-by-side. That is, until the moment you looked into their eyes. "And I tell you, we need to move on. Any noobs that find their way here at the end of Day One aren''t going to have anything worth stealing." The woman''s voice, filled with every type of privilege, grated each and every one of Lorelei''s nerves. "I don''t care, Sylvie. But I''m not having you at Level 9 when I''m sitting at 8. I wanted to kill that fucking Paladin." "You can want all you like, Rupert. But he wasn''t biting. Short of dragging him out of there, I''m not sure what more we could have done." The woman - Sylvie - glanced over towards Lorelei, but her eyes slipped off her and away. Thank goodness for the new mask, she thought. "Fuck," the Dwarf looked up at Sylvie¡¯s name tag and pulled a sour expression. "Let''s grab Liam and Trevor and move on. If we head more out towards Aston, we might find some fresh meat." They crossed the road and sauntered into the alley. Taking her chance to escape, Lorelei patted Ozzy on the belly - he blew a smoke ring out in pleasure -and slipped quietly inside the Mystical Market. Chapter Eighteen - Be wary of the murderhobos when theyre wearing their hoods up In a hurry to get out of sight, Lorelei pushed open the doors to the Mystical Market. As she crossed the threshold, there was a soft *ping* of a notification which, reading it, indicated that Lorelei''s ticket for entry had been consumed. That was interesting. It suggested that should she want to return, she''d need to earn another ticket first. It hadn''t been too tricky to get this one, but she suspected that was because it was part of a specific quest chain. She''d need to ensure she picked up everything she needed on this trip, just in case. Well, at least following her defeat of the [Kobold Champion] and the looting of Liam, she had some cash. Lorelei paused, trying to remember how she could check how much money she actually had.
***Help Message***
For fuck''s sake, you say ''balance''. I literally couldn''t make it easier if I tried.
"How did you . . . Are you reading my mind?"
*** Help Message ***
I feel the need, once again, to emphasise your tiny, minuscule, insignificant place in the vast, infinitely complex universe which is me. No, I am not ''reading'' your mind. Whilst I am more than capable of doing so, please trust me when I tell you my reading matter runs to slightly more weighty material than the random thoughts of low-ranked players.
"So, how did you know I was thinking about money?"
***Help Message***
I have the capacity to decipher the predicted flight path of a drunk bumble in a hurricane. In a second. Whilst offline. You better believe I can work out what''s running through your head when you enter a retail establishment, tap your pockets for a purse you no longer possess and then scrunch your face up in a confused way when you remember the massive life-changing integration that has just happened. Honestly, when I read about the success of ''cold-readers'' on this planet, I thought it was all made up. ''No way can a sentient species actually believe other humans can read their minds!'' I thought. But no. Here you are, proving that you are all, truly, one card trick away from burning each other as witches.
"A ''no'' would have sufficed. Balance."
*** Balance: Day 1 of Integration ***
25 Gold. 87 Silver. 8 Bronze
Lorelei looked at the number without really being able to give it a context. She knew she had picked up several bronze coins off the various mobs - look at me using the lingo - she had killed thus far, and she''d obviously gained gold from the [Kobold Champion]. Her Guide had commented that she''d ''made out like a bandit'' on that - it was why she didn''t get a title, after all - so her gold level was probably a bit higher than it should be for a comparable person at this stage. "Guide. How many gold coins did I get for killing the big Kobold?"
*** Help Message ***
You, improbably, soloed [Kobold Champion]. For your level, you thus received an unusually high amount of gold. This should have been split between at least four players.
"I could be wrong, but I was sure I asked for a number."
*** Help Message ***
Oh, do fuck off, you ungrateful homo sapien. 6 gold. You got 6 gold for that act of suicidal stupidity.
Six gold. A sinking feeling started to settle in her stomach. Considering the impact of the emotional dampening, she assumed this meant she was in a full-blown panic attack. The Guide had suggested that six gold was an insane reward. A go-on-a-Pretty-Woman-style-shopping-binge type of thing. But she didn''t have six gold. She had twenty-five. The door behind her banged open again, and two loudly pissed-off people shoved past her. "Whoever they are, I bet they''ve come straight in here! We need to hit the high-end stores for anyone on a fucking spending spree," said the more leather-clad of the two. "They''re dead," added her hairy little companion. "Whatever fucking noob took my money is dead. They''re so fucking dead!" * As she shoved the slight blonde-haired figure in the ill-fitting robe out of the way, Sylvie briefly glared at their nametag. However, seeing their pathetically low level, she dismissed them from her notice. While they may not have been the brightest of sparks, Liam and Trevor were - or at least they had been - an absolute menace. That had been true since before integration, and since . . . well, there was a reason Sylvie had wanted to keep them onside. That was why leaving them with the proceeds from their exploits seemed sensible. They didn''t have the imagination to nick it, but they understood the trust that had been placed in them. And that plan had worked perfectly so far. That is, right until some heavy hitter had looted the cash from their still-warm corpses. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. "What do you think, Rupert. Had to have been a Level 9, at least, I''d think?" The dwarf growled, glancing up at the tag that announced Sylvie''s higher level to everyone. "And the rest, surely? The damned bull said only one person had gone into the alley. But it would make more sense if we was looking for a team? Maybe Martin''s lot? He was pretty pissed when you killed his girlfriend this morning." "He''ll get over it. But you heard the bull as well as I did. One player. They walked into the alley and then walked out a few minutes later. No description. Apparently, we humans all look alike." "Speak for your fucking self." The dwarf cast his eyes around the inside of the Mystical Market. Some pretty startling changes had taken place to the Bullring during the last twenty-four hours. And this was coming from someone who used to be six foot three and as thin as a rake. It was clear that someone with the design brief had taken the words ''Mystical Market'' and decided to run with them. However, exactly where they were running and whether this was a sensible direction remained to be seen. Where just the day before, shiny floors had glistened under bright strip lights, these had been replaced by cobblestone paths meandering hither and thither. These paths still glistened, but it was through being inexplicably damp rather than via polish. Which was a touch weird. Likewise, the spiralling escalators that linked the three floors had vanished to be replaced by . . . shenanigans. It had taken him more than a few goes to get his head around the various "Levitating Ledges." To ascend from the ground floor, you had to step onto a swirling vortex of wind and light. The first time he did it, he thought it was like being caught in a very localised, polite tornado. It gently whooshed him upwards in a spiral motion, leaving his massive amounts of hair in quite a state. And that safety railing? That was just an illusion. It was clear that health and safety regulations were more like guidelines in the newly integrated world. To get up to the top floor, though - where all the exciting weapons and armours were - thick vines sprout from the ground to form a latticework that lifted you gently upwards. It was like being in a fairy tale if the fairy tale was about getting to the next level of a shopping centre without using stairs. As someone who had never had a problem with heights, Rupert was somewhat disconcerted that since choosing his Dwarf Axeman class, his head swam with vertigo the moment he reached that floor. He''d barely been able to keep his lunch down when purchasing [Grumblecleave]. Even shutting his eyes didn''t help. But that was nothing compared to the rigamarole of getting back down. He staggered a little even now when he thought of it. You had to step off the edge of a platform and into a swirling maelstrom of mist. It was like being inside a fog machine with a mild obsession with dramatic entrances. You descended in a gentle enough swirling motion but then were spat out onto the floor with a loud ''ta-da''. For someone who, since losing two feet of height, very much felt like he had to stand on his dignity, this did little for Rupert''s temper. "So, what do you reckon? We''re looking for some vicious fucker in the Level 10 range, splurging our money? They''ll be looking to spend and run if they''re smart." Sylvie nodded, dark eyes searching through the crowds of noobs looking to part ways with their pathetic haul of bronze coins. She and Rupert had worked hard since stumbling upon the Mystical Market to spot the players worth rolling for their stash - and the whole of her hastily assembled crew had worked even harder taking them down in the alley. The initial plan had never been to become murderhobos. They''d been doing a brisk enough business of relieving poor lost souls of their inventory for a good hour or so and life was good. However, when a Level 7 Mage had cut up rough with Liam holding a knife to his throat, they''d been left with few choices but to see things through to the logical conclusion. After that? Well, it turned out that as well as carrying serious cash, if you picked the right player, they gave up some sweet, sweet XP. As a former hairdresser, there had been moments over the course of the day that Sylvie questioned her move from ''going anywhere nice for your holidays'' to ''hand over all your gear and then I''ll kill you. Yes, I picked the appropriate connective." However, she genuinely did not seem to feel any guilt for her actions. It was really quite liberating. "Let''s split up. You go to the top and work your way down . . ." Sylvie sighed at the green tinge that came over Rupert''s face. "Fine, I''ll start at the top and work my way down, and you go the other way. We meet in the middle and see where we are at. For safety, assume anyone Level 8 and upwards could be our guy. We''re looking for someone on their own, looking handy and splashing the cash." With a nod, the two separated. Sylvie ran to the Whirlwind Vortex, and Rupert circled around to vanish amongst the crowds. * Listening to them, Lorelei felt a bang of worry that she was going to be responsible for the murder of an innocent Level 8, but then, scanning the crowd, she realised how few of that level were currently shopping and - more than that - how fucking terrifying the ones she could see looked. They didn''t need her worrying about their welfare. She needed to be more concerned with her own. "Guide, just checking. For my own peace of mind, is it right that I''ve just Ocean Eleven''ed those guys?" There was a slight pause during which time Lorelei imagined the System speed watching several very poor - and one reasonably decent - movies.
***Help Message ***
Yes. Yes, you did.
Keeping half an eye on Rupert, who was stalking around outside various shops, Lorelei took her first proper look around the Mystical Market. Each shop seemed transformed to cater to a more... shall we say ''eclectic'' clientele. Whereas Lorelei had spent many a happy hour perusing the big H&M that used to be near the entrance, in its place now stood Hexes and Magic. THE place for fast fashion now appeared to be more concerned with fast enchantments. From a quick perusal, they were selling everything from haunted armour - buyer beware, returns not accepted if the armour decides it does not like you - to potions that promised six extra inches (from context, it looked like this meant height, but there was a helluva queue of slightly bashful young men outside on the off chance). Lorelei mooched around for a while, making sure she did not do anything that might be interpreted as ostentatious spending and found herself standing outside what used to be the jewellery store, Pandora, and now was - obviously - called ''Pandora''s Box.'' "I have a quest to pick up a trinket, don''t I?"
***Help Message ***
Babycakes, I have such a vivid memory of telling you how to access your old quests. There were bullet points and everything. We do need to move to a situation where you retain and remember the information I give you. Just opening your mouth and letting your helplessness spill out all the time is not a good look.
"You know what? You could have answered the question in the time it took you to type all that out. And you wouldn''t have looked like such a dick. Again." Lorelei found she could scroll back through the day''s messages. "Yes, thought so. It''s the last bit of Gear Up I haven''t finished.
Trinket Time: The Mystic Market awaits. Find something shiny to distract your enemies (and maybe your allies) from your apparent lack of skill.
Checking no aggrieved heistees'' eyes were on her, Lorelei slipped inside Pandora''s Box.
***System Notification***
That joke is the definition of low-hanging fruit. Shame on you.
Chapter Nineteen - Diamonds from the Sky "Hello, dearie. Welcome to Pandora''s box. Is there anything I can help you with today?" Lorelei was somewhat comforted that, regardless of what else had happened to the world since the integration, some things in life had stayed constant. For example, the shop assistant in Pandora was instantly, aggravatingly pushy the moment anyone stepped through the door. "Just looking for the moment," she said in reflex. Behind the counter, the small, green woman smiled widely back and beckoned Lorelei over. "Browse all you like. But I think I have exactly what you are looking for here!" Curious, Lorelei walked to the glass-fronted counter, which was filled with all manner of charms, bracelets, earrings, and rings. Glancing around, she could see that the walls of the small store were lined with identical cabinets, floor-to-ceiling, all equally chockful. The whole place was crammed with shiny merchandise, but it was actually beyond the point of being merely cluttered. Lorelei couldn''t imagine buying anything from the shelves and cabinets without causing a significant Jenga-style incident.
*** Help Message ***
Everyone is a fucking critic! Look, the only stuff that''s actually for sale is at the front of the shop. You know? Where the shopkeeper is stood, beckoning towards you. Hard to follow the social cues, I know, but do your best. The rest of the store is just wallpaper, at the moment. We''ll get around to fleshing out the depth of the interactive experience once you fuckers stop murdering each other. It''s been a day.
Lorelei had a moment when she really, really wanted to pick at that scab, but then she remembered she was currently hiding out from murderhobos, so it seemed sensible that she let this one slide. You didn''t need to swing at every pitch. Moving her attention back to the dimly lit end of the shop - someone had been watching the opening moments of Gremlins for inspiration, hadn''t they? - it appeared that business must have been very slow that day. Despite the crowds outside, Lorelei was the only customer in the shop. Reaching the front of the store, she reluctantly shook the assistant''s offered hand. As well as being green, the woman''s skin had the texture of boiled leather. It wasn''t quite like she was in the presence of a very well-dressed and put-together Kermit, but neither was it too far away.
***Help Message***
Standard Goblin Merchant. No, I''m still not reading your mind. For clarity, she has very little actual sentience beyond what''s required for her function within this store. So, there''s no point trying to banter with her. Also, she''s highly unlikely to fuck you. Trust me, I''d rather not have to add that disclaimer, but a lot of you guys seem to be having difficulty reacting appropriately to the NPCs.
"NPCs?"
*** Help Message ***
For fuck''s sake, are we back in remedial mode? Non-Player Character. Gertrude here''s to operate as a function of the integration. You know, the things I honestly cannot be arsed with. Judging by how poorly her ''shop'' is performing, though, she''s pretty unlikely to make it through to Day 2. So, you know, make the girl''s day.
There was a pause
*** Clarity Message ***
But not, I should add, by jumping her bones. Under no circumstances are humans to boink the NPCs. Too many people have watched fucking Westworld on this damn planet.
"That''s fine," Lorelei said, glancing at the small, elderly goblin. "I''m probably in the market for a rebound shag in the near future, but I''m happy to confirm I''ll be sticking to those of my own species. Unless there are Elves. Are there elves?" The silence from the Guide suggested that Lorelei was back on her own for a bit. Gertrude was looking up at her with a faraway expression in her eyes that suggested a question had been asked that had not been responded to. "Sorry, what was that?" Gertrude cocked her head to the other side like a confused bird. "I have just what you are looking for here!" Three items appeared, as if by magic, on the top of the glass cabinet the Goblin Merchant was standing behind. Each was presented, rather attractively to Lorelei''s mind, in a blue velvet gift box and shimmered with an inner glow. Lorelei leant forward to pick up the first of the items, with Gertrude making soft ''yes, yes, look at the precious!'' vocalisations as she did so. As soon as she touched it, its full description rolled through her mind.
Amulet of Unfortunate Fortunes: This amulet glimmers with a strange, unpredictable light, making it a perfect fit for someone with luck-based abilities.
Item Type: Trinket Required Level: 4
Class Compatibility: n/a Weapon Type: n/a
  • +2 Intellect
Special Ability: Grants the "Accidental Comedian" effect. Occasionally, its wearer''s attempts at conversation are ''hilariously'' misunderstood. Useless for combat, but great for breaking the ice and lightening the mood in tense situations.
Lorelei felt herself mentally go ''meh''. More Intellect was obviously a good thing, but wasn''t 2 a little underwhelming in the grand scheme of things? And the ''buff'' felt a little bit like the Guide was wilfully taking the piss. Carefully, she replaced it in its box - trying not to react to Gertrude''s mewling sadness - and picked up the second option.
Ring of Questionable Taste: A gaudy ring that changes colour and style every hour, never matching any of its wearer''s outfits.
Item Type: Trinket Required Level: 4
Class Compatibility: n/a Weapon Type: n/a
  • +1 Agility
Special Ability: Grants the "Fashion Disaster" effect. The wearer''s sense of fashion becomes highly unpredictable, causing her to inadvertently start new and bizarre fashion trends among NPCs and allies. Completely useless for battle but can create amusing social situations and unique interactions.
"No, thank you," Lorelei said, replacing the ring almost immediately. She was beginning to understand why Pandora''s Box was doing virtually no trade in a packed building. Gertrude''s swag was shite. Having her expectations about as low as they could be, Lorelei removed two little earrings studded with diamonds from their blue box and held them upwards. As she did so, the Goblin Merchant''s loud cooing became reminiscent of a Velociraptor''s battle cry.
Earrings of the Lucky Gambler: A finely crafted pair of earrings with intricate engravings depicting various games of chance. They seem to hum with a subtle, powerful magic contained within their Sky Diamonds.
Item Type: Trinket Required Level: 4
Class Compatibility: +3 Spirit Weapon Type: n/a
  • Increases Critical Strike chance by 2% and Haste by 1%.
Special Ability: A useful item that enhances the wearer''s combat effectiveness, making luck-based skills more potent and actions quicker. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
Well, that all seemed like a bit of a no-brainer, Lorelei thought. Of the only three items Pandora''s Box seemed to stock¡ªand if she looked too carefully at the rest of the store, she could see where the same sections repeated again and again¡ªthe earrings were the only thing any good at all. "How much?" Gertrude regarded her with an almost orgasmic longing. "You would like to buy these, dearie?" Lorelei nodded. "Yes, please. I don''t see a price anywhere?" "Four hundred gold!" Call it her years working within the cut-throat corporate environment, but something about Gertrude''s bugged-out eyes and expression of lascivious greed made Lorelei think that might not have been quite the Goblin Merchant''s best offer. "How about -" Lorelei paused, looking around for anything that might give her a sense of how much things should cost in this brave new world - "thirty silver?" Gertrude''s head moved back and forth briefly, eyes glazed over as her lips moved. "What about sixty silver, and I throw in a free build consultation?"
*** Help Message ***
Look, cupcake, not for nothing, but that''s not a horrible deal. The earrings are tacky as fuck, but oddly suit those fleshly shell-like things you have on the side of your face. Also, picking up a couple of Sky Diamonds at this stage of proceedings is pretty decent, too - they''re a growth item, so they can usually be pulled out and slotted into new gear later on
Lorelei was so taken aback by the unexpected and helpful advice that she did not know what to say. She assumed the Guide was taking the piss in some way, but she couldn''t see the angle. Willing to push her luck further, she asked what a ''free build consultation'' was.
*** Help Message ***
Well, that''s largely bullshit. But, at your Level - cusp of 5 - it''s probably not a terrible idea to see what it says. If the integration had been a little less murdery, it would have been offered at the start of Day 2 as a minor Quest Reward. I can only imagine it''s being given away free because most of the people who might benefit from it are already dead. It won''t hurt to see what it says.
"Fair enough," Lorelei nodded encouragingly to Gertrude. "Sold. One pair of earrings and one build consultation, please." There was a loud ''kerching'', and Gertrude was immediately replaced by the literal embodiment of the collected spirits of every second-hand car salesman who had¡ªhopefully¡ªall met a violent end in the last few hours. He was, presumably, called Wayne. "Hello, love. Looking fierce in those earrings! I understand you''re in the market for a quick consultation? Shall I get up under your hood and have a rummage around?" Lorelei might have felt more warmly disposed towards him if he''d sounded more helpful and less . . . rapey.
*** Help Message ***
Fuck''s sake, just share your stats with him. He''s even less here than a standard NPC, so don''t worry about the patter. Think of him a bit like a Career Advisor.
Reflecting that she''d had the same response to her school''s Career Advisor - maybe there was a type? - Lorelei followed the Guide''s advice and pushed her stat sheet towards the man in the painfully shiny suit.
Lorelei Norton: Fortuna''s Herald
Level 4 Experience 737/800 Health 275/275 Mana 240/240
Primary Stats
Strength 10 Agility 22 (+3 Gloves of the Seer, +10% Veil of Vindication) Stamina 15 (+2 Cloak of the Wanderer) Intellect 28 (+5 Gloves of the Seer, +2 Double Headed Coin of Fate) Spirit 21 (5% from Vigilante title + 3 from Earrings of the Lucky Gambler)
Secondary Stats
Critical Strike 11.5% (2% from Whispering Gloves of the Seer + 1% from Double-Headed Coin of Fate + 2% from Earrings of the Lucky Gambler) Haste 9.5% (+ 1% from Earrings of the Lucky Gambler) Mastery 5.5% Versatility 4.5%
Skills
Lucky Strike (Passive)- Sometimes you hit, sometimes you miss, sometimes you accidentally help the enemy. It''s a surprise!
Coin Toss Conundrum (Active)- Flip a coin to decide your next move. Heads, you unleash a devastating attack; tails, you heal your enemy. Bonus points for dramatic mid-air coin flipping. Mana Cost: 50. Cooldown: 2 mins.
Random Resilience (Active)- You might shrug off a dragon''s breath or trip over a pebble. Life''s a lottery! Mana Cost: 100% of available pool. Cooldown: 24 hours.
Charmed Life (Active): You do seem to spend a lot of time getting hurt. Have a heal skill. But, to make it interesting, let''s randomise how much healing it does. Oh, and just for shits and giggles, it will give you a random status effect for 2 mins. 30 MP cost. No cooldown.
The Old Swapperoonie (Active): Wah! Why is all my luck bad? Wah! For someone with a luck-based Class, you don''t half moan a lot about random outcomes . . . Once per day, you can offload all the negative consequences of your abilities onto someone else. The timer does not reset if your poor patsy dies. 200 mana cost. 24 hours cooldown.
Inventory
Double-Headed Coin of Fate (Nerfed) Cloak of the Wanderer (+ 2 Stamina) Whispering Gloves of the Seer (+5 Intellect, +3, +2% Critical Strike) Earrings of the Lucky Gambler: (+3 Spirit, Increases Critical Strike chance by 2%, and Haste by 1%) Skinning Knife 2x[20 Leather Offcut] 8 [Charred Steak] 7 [Charred Steak - poisoned]. Poisoned status is hidden.
25 Gold. 27 Silver. 8 Bronze
Professions
Jack of All Trades
  • Skinning - Lvl 23
  • Cooking (Life in Your Own Hands) ¨C Lvl 9
  • Leatherworking ¨C Lvl 1
  • Campfire - Novice
Talents
Spoilsport: Increases the chance of a positive by 5%.
Titles
Kobolds Worst Nightmare: 35% damage against Kobolds One Cold Bitch: Frost Resistance: +10% Vigilante: Spirit +5%
The second the ticker tape of stats stopped flowing through Lorelei''s mind, the man facing her smiled and cleared his throat. He took up an odd little stance, feet more than shoulder width apart and gesticulated wildly as he spoke. It was all a bit disorientating. ¡°Ah, [Lorelei Norton], standing on the cusp of Level 5. Bravo, kid, bravo! Now, let¡¯s kick the tires and take a little gander under the hood of your current build, shall we? First off, let¡¯s talk about what¡¯s going right¡ªyour highlights, if you will. Numero Uno, that Skill of yours? A real beauty, that one. Makes you a versatile dabbler, doesn¡¯t it? You¡¯ve got your fingers in all sorts of pies¡ªCooking, Leatherworking, Skinning, even that delightful little Campfire setup. Why, you¡¯re like a medieval Gordon Ramsey, but with fewer F-bombs and slightly less bloodshed. And hey, who doesn¡¯t love a good multitasker? Next up, let¡¯s take a look at your Spirit stat. Now, I gotta hand it to you, you¡¯ve done well here. With that Vigilante title and those [Earrings of the Lucky Gambler], your Spirit is as high as a balloon at a kid¡¯s birthday party. You¡¯re practically floating, and that¡¯s no joke. Having this baby cranked up should make your spells pack a bit more punch, and that extra mana boost? Oh, that¡¯s the icing on the cake. Nice work there, kiddo. And last but not least, let¡¯s chat about your Critical Hit Chances. Thanks to your fancy gloves, that double-headed coin of yours, and those snazzy earrings, you¡¯ve got a Critical Strike chance that¡¯s not too shabby at all. You might even hit something important once in a while. Not bad, not bad at all. But¡ªand here¡¯s where we take a little detour down Criticism Avenue¡ªthere are some bumps in the road we need to address. First up, you¡¯re lagging behind the pros. No need to sugarcoat it, darling¡ªyou¡¯re more of a charming underdog in this integration. And as much as everyone loves a good underdog story, let¡¯s be real: this is a world full of turbo-charged hares, and you¡¯re playing the tortoise. Problem is, in this situation, slow and steady doesn¡¯t win the race. Slow and steady gets left in the dust, or worse¡ªends up as roadkill. Secondly, we need to have a serious chat about your Health and Mana. I¡¯m gonna be straight with you: you¡¯re about as sturdy as a wet tissue in a hurricane, and your mana pool? Let¡¯s just say you¡¯ve got enough to keep you casting, providing your opponent takes a nice long coffee break between attacks. It¡¯s a miracle you¡¯ve made it this far without keeling over. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll always have time to regen thoroughly in the heat of battle, right? Yeah, I didn¡¯t think so. And lastly, I¡¯m afraid I gotta mention your fashion sense¡ªor lack thereof. Look, darling, I get it¡ªapocalypse and all that¡ªbut you really need to pick a vibe. Right now, it¡¯s all a bit ¡®thrown together in the dark¡¯ meets ¡®last chance clearance sale.¡¯ You¡¯ve got the potential, but you¡¯re not exactly turning heads for the right reasons. So, what¡¯s my advice for you moving forward? Well, let me drop some real gems on you here, sweetheart. And here, an odd tone came into Wayne''s voice, as if someone - a female someone, perhaps - was adding their own voice to things. Embrace the chaos, my dear Lorelei. Lean into your randomness and let the dice roll. You¡¯re a delightful mix of potential and unpredictability, and that¡¯s your secret weapon. With more experience (and maybe some gear that doesn¡¯t look like it was salvaged from a dumpster fire), you¡¯ll be surprising everyone¡ªincluding yourself. And remember, every underdog story needs a few good plot twists, so don¡¯t shy away from taking those risks. Keep pushing forward, because the only way out of this mess is straight through it. You¡¯ve got the grit, now let¡¯s see the glory. With that, the second-hand car salesman¡ªa slick grin still plastered on his face¡ªdissolved into a puddle on the floor of Pandora¡¯s Box, leaving Lorelei standing all alone. Chapter Twenty - Running Up That Hill (A Deal with the System) Lorelei couldn¡¯t help but think that the change to the tone of Wayne¡¯s voice at the end of that little spiel sounded more than a touch familiar. Perhaps not unlike something she had heard just before, very nearly, being killed by a Dragon . . . ¡°Guide? Did something sound . . . off about the Build Consultant at the end there?¡± If she had been suspicious about what she had heard before, the complete and utter lack of any response from the normally chatty Guide confirmed it. Clearly, there were some sort of shenanigans taking place here ¨C her Guide being willing to offer unsolicited advice over the cost of her earrings should have alerted Lorelei to that ¨C which meant that the message at the very end there was pretty interesting. It was almost like someone was trying to sneak a message through to her when they were not supposed to. Considering their very brief acquaintance, Lorelei was starting to develop a complex set of feelings towards Fortuna. It was hard not to feel thankful towards a god that had saved your life and, apparently, was cheering you on from the sidelines. But, on the other hand, the set of skills that came with this Class were a ball ache and her every battle had very nearly been her last. It wasn¡¯t quite a love/hate relationship, but there was certainly a little from Column A and a little from Column B. ¡°Embrace the chaos,¡± Lorelei said aloud, echoing the final words of Wayne, and then wondered how much harder she could possibly embrace it without crushing it to death. Hey ho. There would be time enough to dwell on her situation if she lived long enough to regret it. For now, though, in the absence of Gertrude, the shop was becoming even more low rent than it had been before. It appeared once she had made her purchase, there was very little purpose left to Pandora¡¯s Box and it was almost like it had started to remove itself from existence. Speaking of fulfilling a purpose . . .
*** Quest Completed *** GEAR UP!
Objective: Suit Up, Fortuna''s Herald!
1/3. Equip a weapon: You have my respect for taking on an Orc, a Dragon and the ground armed with nothing more than your face. Other options are available . . .
2/3. Put on some gear: Not that I''m not loving the pantsuit, but you might want to equip something that actually has stats on it.
3/3. Trinket Time: The Mystic Market awaits. Find something shiny to distract your enemies (and maybe your allies) from your apparent lack of skill.
Rewards: Congratulations on stumbling past the absolute minimum requirement for still being alive. You have a weapon, some gear, and some shiny earrings. Well done, you. For this awesome achievement, you are getting absolutely nothing else from me. Displays of borderline competence do not get cookies.
Well, that was disappointing. Gear Up! had been a little, nagging voice at the back of her head for so long that she¡¯d been hoping for something interesting to come from actually completing it. However, the lack of reward probably made sense, considering the more difficult quests she¡¯d completed since receiving it. As the Guide suggested ¨C and she hated for it to be right ¨C failure to complete Gear Up! was probably pretty terminal. However, what was worrying was that without this quest glowing in her peripheral vision, it seemed to be the end of her quest chains . . . As if by magic ¨C or at least by System ¨C once again, the very fact of thinking about something appeared to be the way to trigger a response.
*** Quest Awarded *** Moving Right Along
Objective: Okay. You¡¯ve been hanging around this place like a bad smell for long enough. You¡¯ve shown that you can take on Wolves and Kobolds ¨C and even handle the odd PvP encounter ¨C but there¡¯s a big wide world out there and, frankly, it¡¯s a touch tragic you¡¯re still here. Day One will be ending in forty-five minutes and you need to be in a different postcode by then.
Quest Description: You see that clock that¡¯s just appeared in the right hand corner of your vision? Think of that as a ¡®Doom¡¯ countdown. You have until that reaches zero to leave your current zone and explore another one. Any player who fails to enter new pastures by the deadline will discover to what extent ¡®deadline¡¯ is a metaphor.
Leave the Beginner Zone: I don¡¯t know how else to tell you this. Fucking run.
Rewards: You get not to be dead.
By the immediate screams and sound of running feet from outside the door of Pandora¡¯s Box, Lorelei was obviously not the only person who had received that particular quest. Was it a coincidence that she had wanted another quest, and everyone got it at the same time? Or had she just been lucky to have finished Gear Up! at precisely the right moment? That felt a bit like a thread she did not want to pick at right now. Lorelei crossed to the door and peered outside. It was as she had thought, pretty much everyone who had been exploring the Mystical Market was now doing their best to frenziedly evacuate the vicinity. Even in the short time Lorelei watched, at least five people were crushed to death in the melee. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. Thinking it might be better to wait for the crowds to pass, Lorelei reclosed the door and leaned against it. ¡°Guide?¡±
*** Help Message ***
Were the quest details a bit subtle for you, sugar tits? You really do need to be getting moving if you¡¯re going to avoid the crush.
¡°At what point did this feel like a fair quest to you? Just when I find a place where nothing can kill me, you¡¯re telling me to leave that and go somewhere else. I can¡¯t help but feel my well-being is not at the forefront of your mind here.¡±
*** Help Message ***
Boo-fucking hoo. Look, this is actually to try to help out those of you that are . . . not excelling. A number of your fellow homo sapiens are being naughty boys and girls and we¡¯re trying to smooth that out the best way we can..
¡°What does that mean?¡±
*** Help Message ***
In our experience, once a Player begins to level up, they will move away from the Starter areas and begin to explore the wider world. Unfortunately, in yet another example as to why this little planet really should not have been anywhere near an Integration schedule, various of your citizens are taking the opportunity of making use of their newfound skills to kick ass and take names. Mostly from the Players like you who ¨C bless you all ¨C are still wandering around with their thumbs in their mouths. It¡¯s getting messy and whilst the powers-that-be like a good slaughter fest, just watching Level 4s and 5s being ritually massacred by 10s and 11s isn¡¯t what this is supposed to be about. This hotfix quest is to try to get a bit of movement going and to break you all up into more appropriate parts of the world.
Lorelei thought about that for a moment. She¡¯d had her own encounter ¨C in the alley outside the Bullring ¨C with several people who were playing a little game of l¡¯et¡¯s rob and kill those who are of a lower level¡¯. It hadn¡¯t been a lot of fun. ¡°But isn¡¯t this just going to move the problem into new parts of the city?¡±
*** Help Message ***
Thank fuck you¡¯re here! We hadn¡¯t thought of that. With all our years of experience and countless simulations of every possible scenario, it¡¯s so humbling to be in the presence of such an original thinker. Fortunately, completely by accident because we are ¨C indeed ¨C the Clampetts, we have established different zones into which players can only when they are the appropriate level.
¡°Well, why not include that in the information for the quest? Can¡¯t you hear all the people panicking outside? There are probably going to be more people killed in the rush than would have died in any event! If you¡¯d just said, ¡®We¡¯re dividing you up into levels to keep some of you safe,¡¯ there¡¯s a chance it would be much calmer!¡± The Guide did not respond. Lorelei waited for a moment to see if the ticker tape would start moving again. But no: it appeared to have lost its chattiness. She would have enjoyed the sensation of, however briefly, putting the Guide in its place. But the ticking countdown of the Doom Clock suggested that any satisfaction was going to be temporary at best. Poking her head out of the shop¡¯s door again to check the coast was relatively clear, Lorelei slipped out and made her way towards the entrance. As she went, she did her best not to look too carefully at the crushed remains of fallen shoppers. The sales had been rough this year. It was interesting to her that in a ¡®neutral¡¯ area, so many people had been able to be killed by good old-fashioned carelessness. However, she guessed that in the grand scheme of things it probably all slotted in quite nicely to the genocidal vibe that seemed to have gripped the whole world. Shaking her head at the pointlessness of it all, and checking she had her [Veil of Vindication] on, Lorelei slipped out into the crisp evening air. The way things were going, it would be just her luck to run straight into Sylvie and Rupert . . . It took her a little while to get her bearings, and even longer to work out where she was off to next. Since the quest announcement, her Map had been updated to display a series of routes she could take to access the Zones the Players were required to reach. The first route, which was a reasonably long green track, led from her current position and out towards Edgbaston. She could be wrong, but it looked as if it was the Cricket Stadium that was the final destination there. If she mentally pressed down on the green line, it gave her a bit more information which indicated this was the destination to which everyone sub-Level 5 should head. Frowning, Lorelei moved away from that and looked at one of the other routes. The second road, this one marked in amber, went in the other direction towards Hagley. If she was a betting woman ¨C and as Fortuna¡¯s Herald, Lorelei kind of thought she probably was now ¨C that line appeared to terminate at the Botanical Gardens. This was where the sub-Level 8s were supposed to go. Finally, there was a red line that led from where Lorelei stood and off towards Spaghetti Junction. This track clearly terminated at Birmingham Children¡¯s Hospital and was by far the shortest line from where she was currently was but was flagged as the destination of choice for those sub-Level 12. There was no info about where those higher than Level 12 were supposed to take themselves, but she assumed they made their own arrangements. Or just did whatever the fuck they wanted. If Lorelei had learned anything so far about this world, then it was that the strong could pretty much ignore any rules that were going. ¡°So, green is easy, amber is a bit harder, and red is difficult, right?¡± Lorelei¡¯s Guide was stoically silent to her musing. That, or it did not find her semiotic literacy worthy of comment. The choice was obvious, wasn¡¯t it? The smart call was to get herself along to the cricket stadium and hold up there with other like-minded wimps who had failed to set the world alight on Day One of the Integration. It seemed to her that anyone tempted to prey on the weakest members of this post-apocalyptic society would have moved out of the Level 6 range and ¨C therefore ¨C she would probably be much safer going that way. Of course, it was a long way there ¨C forty-five minutes at a brisk jog if she was lucky ¨C and that was assuming that the newly evolved local flora and fauna didn¡¯t treat the long stream of weak and hopeless Players trudging that way to be an all-you-can-eat buffet. In fact, the more Lorelei thought of it, the more the Green Zone seemed like a terrible idea. It basically had a big flashing light above it that said, ¡®Not a Single Baller Inside ¨C Please Pick Us Off At Your Leisure.¡± If the Guide was hoping that bundling all the weakest members of society up into one giant stadium was going to keep them safe, well they had obviously never seen a divorcee on a Club 18-30 holiday. For that matter, neither had Lorelei ¨C but she had a decent grasp of the visual nature of the metaphor. At the other end of the scale, the Children¡¯s Hospital was also obviously out. Lorelei was willing to ¡®embrace the chaos¡¯, but what she had seen in that alleyway had made her realise that she had absolutely no interest in rubbing shoulders with people who¡¯d reached double figures. Besides, that would have to be where Sylvie and Rupert would be required to set themselves up ¨C and keeping some distance there would be idea. So, the Botanical Gardens then? She was a little underpowered for that Zone, but then so had she been for every other experience she had thus far. At least the Amber Zone didn¡¯t have the feeling of having a massive cross painted on her back. Checking the Doom Clock, Lorelei saw that she had just over thirty-five minutes to get there. With no further ado, Lorelei started out, with a quick jog, to move in that direction. Chapter Twenty-One - But its just the price you pay, Destiny is not calling you The streets of Birmingham, never the prettiest of places, were positively gloomy in the final minutes of Day One. Back in the sixties, a local Member of Parliament had delivered a speech where he noted that ¡°I am filled with foreboding; like the Roman, I seem to see ''the River Tiber foaming with much blood''.¡± Of course, he was a spectacular racist moaning about the immigration of too many people who did not share his particular skin shade of ¡®slightly off milk¡¯, rather than predicting the fallout of a planet-wide System integration. However, of all of the sins of Enoch Powell, it would probably be unfair to put failure to anticipate the bloody aftermath of people gaining superhuman Class skills solely at his door. So, while it might not be for the reasons Powell suggested, it was accurate to note that the pavements leading away from the Bullring were certainly running with blood this evening. Along with the remains of various people who had fallen foul of the local wildlife¡ªboth of the monstrous and the human variety¡ªit also seemed that the System was reconfiguring the landscape to take on a particularly gothic aspect. Certainly, by the time she was ready to start her jog towards safety, the route Lorelei was planning to follow to reach the Botanical Gardens looked not unlike the elevator door at the Overlook Hotel had just opened to flood the roadway. ¡°Guide, is all this really necessary?¡± Lorelei had asked, jerking left and right as she jogged to avoid particularly deep puddles of viscera and gore.
*** Help Message ***
Necessary? No. But having spent much of the last few hours staring at the results of all of you on this homicidal planet going tonto on each other, I kind of think we should integrate that into the general vibe. You know, there are integrations where ¨C after the initial excitement ¨C the beings on the planet never commit another violent act again? Like, ever. It¡¯s almost like there are other options available to ascended beings than wholesale slaughter. Just something to think about. And, whilst you do, you get to be knee-deep in offal.
In the Guide¡¯s defence, this did seem like the rare valid point. Although not hanging about ¨C the Doom Clock was ticking down with quite some relentless fury - Lorelei was doing her best to hang back from the other people who had decided that the Botanical Gardens were to be their destination. It wasn¡¯t that she was particularly intimidated by any of them ¨C she assumed the heavier hitters were following the red route to the Children¡¯s Hospital ¨C but there were a lot of people with faces pale with fear and exhaustion around. And that made her nervous. Lorelei had long ago learned in her professional life that when you looked around a room and you couldn¡¯t spot the person who would be able to help you out in a crisis, the chances were it was because you were the most competent one about. Normally, this gave her a sense of satisfaction. Right now, being the person most likely not to be eaten alive didn¡¯t fill her full of hope for the future of this excursion. Especially as the road leading away from the Bullring looked like a scene from a post-apocalyptic movie, which was, as these things go, a pretty accurate simile. Shattered glass abandoned cars and the more than occasional corpse decorated the landscape. Not exactly what the Chamber of Commerce would like advertised on the travel brochures. The largest of the groups that Lorelei was shadowing appeared to be a ragtag assembly of office workers, shop assistants, and other random citizens hurrying through the desolation with all the coordination of a drunken octopus on a bicycle. Which was probably fair enough ¨C the current situation was one that called for speed, not elegance. From what she could see, though, none of them had any particularly powerful Classes. A fact no doubt noted by the various creatures that seemed ripped from the worst kind of nightmares that were prowling the streets around them. The time of Wolves and Kobolds was clearly over . . . Lorelei thought back to the green route that would take those following it to the cricket stadium and realised her instincts to avoid that path there had been correct. For whatever reason, these mobs seemed to be very aware of these routes and appeared to be using them as a feeding trough. She wondered if anyone under Level 5 would still be alive when the Doom Clock ran down . . . Almost the moment she came to this realisation, a monstrous Level 4 Hound with glowing red eyes lunged from an alley to snap at a young woman directly ahead of Lorelei. The girl, who seemed to have some sort of Fairy Class, managed to raise a softly glowing barrier spell just in time. The shimmering shield popped like a soap bubble the moment the attacker¡¯s jaws made contact with it, but it bought the Fairy a moment to float away. After all, nothing says "welcome to the new world" like being chased by a demon dog. Lorelei wondered whether she should help. She had plenty of experience with the Wolves, and, presumably, this was the sort of thing where the skills were largely transferable. However, thinking about the nature of her Class, she figured she was more than likely to make the situation worse. The girl Fairy had survived today this long, so presumably, she was more tanky than she looked. Besides, all around her were, increasingly, examples of what happened when you stopped running and started fighting. It seemed sensible to let Tinkerbell live or die by her own efforts. To her right, one particular man with delusions of heroic grandeur very briefly took a stand against a swarm of bat-like creatures. Although they were each Level 2, the keyword that he seemed to be missing was ¡®swarm.¡¯ As he was ineffectually wielding a makeshift club that looked suspiciously like a chair leg, he was very quickly turned into a skeleton as they descended on him. Fucking hell, Lorelei thought, increasing the speed of her own run, this was all getting a little intense. It seemed like a long time since she was chased around by a Kobold with a shovel. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. She quickly crossed a road, passing a teenager fumbling with a quiver of seemingly hastily crafted arrows. Call her judgemental, but Lorelei couldn¡¯t help but think that if you were planning on making a Ranged Class work for you, it would be sensible to invest in more solid equipment. Interested in how this was going to work out, she turned her head to see him aim at a grotesque spider the size of a horse. The arrow struck true - if by ¡®true¡¯ his battle plan was to hit it and make it even angrier. A nearby woman - she might even have been the lad¡¯s mother, Lorelei thought - her hands crackling with electric sparks, zapped the spider, whose hard skin repelled the blast, bouncing it over to the boy, sending him twitching to the ground. Teamwork, at its finest. Lorelei did not stop to see what happened next. She had a pretty decent idea, though. Pressing on, dodging downside streets and alleyways, she tried to avoid the worst of the horrors being inflicted all around her. Each second on the ¡®Doom clock¡¯ ticked by, marked by the heavy thud of footsteps behind and in front of her and the distant roars of unseen creatures. Then Lorelei found herself emerging onto a wide, open expanse and cursed as the road she was on connected up with Broad Street. Annoyingly, she appeared to have joined up with a much larger crowd of panicked fleers who had all presumably taken this most obvious of routes out of the city centre. The thing was, with the increased press of humanity came a commensurate increase in monsters preying on them. It did not seem that there was any safety at all in numbers. As she tried to pace herself to the much larger group she had joined, Lorelei found herself looking around at the chaotic mess: shops that once sold overpriced coffee and mobile phones now stood empty, their windows smashed, their wares looted or ignored. In some ways, it was nice to see this part of the city was almost business as usual. A solid night out. Just as the nostalgia of the near normalcy threatened to overwhelm her, Lorelei stumbled over a child, clinging to her father''s hand, who had tripped over a fallen signpost. Dad of the Year let go of the girl and without breaking stride, sweat pouring down his face, carried on his merry way. Lorelei was just beginning to envisage a future where she saved and protected her own version of Newt, when an actual newt ¨C well, a Level 13 Moustached Skink ¨C exploded through the pavement and ate the child in one bite. So that was the end of that. Even through all the emotional dampening, this was getting pretty grim. Lorelei reached the roundabout at the top of the road ¨C a brisk walk from the Gardens themselves - and ran straight through it, just as Level 4 Cleric decided to go mano a mano with a Troll that was clearly relishing its day out from under whatever bridge it had come. The man muttered an incantation, and a bolt of ice shot from his fingertips, striking the Troll square in the chest. The creature roared, more annoyed than hurt ¨C you didn¡¯t get good at catching billygoats without some solid resistances - and swung a massive fist. The Cleric dodged¡ªmostly. He ended up sprawling on the ground but scrambled to his feet with the agility of someone who really didn¡¯t want to die. The Troll, unfortunately, had other ideas, and Lorelei used the distraction of him becoming a tasty snack to press onward towards her destination. "Ten minutes" she gasped to no-one in particular, glancing at the Doom Clock. "Plenty of time." Ahead, the white gates of Botanical Gardens loomed like a mirage of safety. Lorelei could see other survivors filtering in. There was a queue. What the fuck was the matter with the English? The world could be ending, literally, around them, and they¡¯d still just stand politely in line. Probably tutting at the rampaging monsters plucking them clear for food. She was there. No big deal. Why had she even thought she needed to run this last bit? And then, with all the inevitability of the Law of Sod being evoked, Lorelei was suddenly on the floor, legs wrapped up by the tail of some sort of snake. The purple sort. With massive teeth. It was, she saw as she rolled around for the third time, something called a Reed Stalker. It was also a somewhat discouraging Level 8. "Keep moving!" someone shouted behind her, probably someone who wasn¡¯t being attacked by a giant serpent with shimmering scales. Then there was a shout, and a burly man wielding a rusted sword that looked like it had seen better days ran out of the Botanical Garden and hacked at the serpent. Which was sweet of him, Lorelei thought, trying to free her feet. Each of her helper¡¯s swings was accompanied by a guttural yell that suggested this wasn''t his first encounter with something out of a fantasy novel. Maybe he was some sort of guard for the Gardens? Whatever, he was definitely hero material. The serpent was hissing and spitting, totally focused on the man and ignoring Lorelei. Unfortunately, the snake was getting the upper hand, and the man with the rusty sword was going to be lunch very soon if she did not do something. No one else streaming through the gates to safety seemed much inclined to step in. Not that Lorelei could blame them. Oh, fuck, she thought, I¡¯m actually going to have to pitch in here. With a sense of deep concern as to what would be likely to happen, she activated and threw her coin at the head of the snake, remembering to roll around in a vaguely rhythmic manner to hopefully trigger the ¡®dance¡¯ bonus. She may even have offered up a little prayer.
Unleashed: Fortuna''s Herald flips a coin, and because she¡¯s been a good little girl of her late, her rather sexualised writhing on the ground causes a remarkable change in the attack outcome.
Original Attack Outcome: [Negative Result] Lvl 8 Reed Stalker gains ¡®Poisonous Breath¡¯ for 5 mins.
New Attack Outcome: Your coin strikes the man helping you, knocking him out and leaving him as bait for the snake to attack instead. Don¡¯t say I never do anything for you.
Damage Dealt: Does it matter? This dude is fucked.
Feeling a touch guilty that she¡¯d basically sacrificed the kindly man who¡¯d come to her aid, Lorelei took advantage of him being . . . munched to slip through the gates of the Botanical Gardens. As she did so, she tried to avoid the accusative eyes of the crowd, who, presumably, were feeling pretty judgey about what had just taken place. Shit, she thought, her Class really was a menace. Chapter Twenty-Two – Blooming that dont come without rain Fortunately, the Doom Clock ticked down to zero just after Lorelei dove through the gates of the Botanical Gardens. This was ¡®fortunate¡¯ as it meant that other things ¨C rather than her accidentally causing the death of the kind man with the rusty sword who was just trying to save her - grabbed the gathered audience¡¯s attention. The ¡®other things¡¯ being the complete and utter bloody slaughter of everyone still outside. It took some time for the screams and pleas for mercy to come to an end, during which Lorelei pondered on the slight hypocrisy of her Guide lambasting the human race for its blood-thirsty nature while at the same time engineering the wholesale massacre of anyone who missed a deadline by a few minutes. On more than one occasion, she had heard herself referred to as ¡®the agenda Nazi¡¯ whilst working at Glyde and Glyde. But even she had never gone so far as ¨C check notes ¨C manifesting demons from the netherworld of Hell to rip late-comers in half. So, she had that going for her.
*** Help Message ***
Look, I¡¯m not wild about how all this has worked out either, but we had to get you all separated out somehow, and this seemed like the most efficient way to minimise casualties. It¡¯s not my fault that some people did not have enough hustle. It was called the ¡®Doom Clock¡¯. What did they think was going to happen if they didn¡¯t get inside in time?
Lorelei watched as the last of the casualties were minimalised. ¡°You honestly couldn¡¯t think of a better way of splitting us up than a literal Race for Life?¡±
*** Wind Your Neck in Message ***
This is a fast-moving environment, muffin-top. In the normal run of things, on Day One, the newly Integrated tend to band together in order to face external threats. By which I mean the Wolves and the Kobolds. You know, the obvious ¡®bad guys¡¯ in the narrative arc that no one minds wiping out? Basically, we expect a little more ¡®esprit de corps¡¯ from the dominant species. You lot, however . . . If you want to be pissy about the establishment of tiered zones, then perhaps take it up with those whose idea of PvP is very much taking the idea of ¡®punching down¡¯ literally. This way, at least everyone left alive gets a chance to progress without some jacked-up Superman far above their level ripping them a new one.
¡°Look, I¡¯m not against the concept. I just wonder if the execution needed to be quite so heavy on the ¨C¡° a decapitated head sailed over the gate to Lorelei¡¯s right- ¡°well, the execution.¡±
*** Out-Of-Office Message ***
I¡¯m sorry. Your Guide is temporarily unable to give a shit what you think and is going for a lie-down. They are a touch wrung out after spending Day One of this Integration foiling various Planet Ending Events by you loveable scamps of homicidal maniacs. Please take this opportunity to fuck right off. Normal service will be resumed at some stage on Day Two. Proving any of you wankers are still alive.
Lorelei shrugged and took the opportunity to have a look around the amber, sub-Level 8 Zone. If this was going to be her temporary home, it would be best to become familiar with it. Just behind her were a couple of massive - now very locked - wrought-iron gates separating those inside from the ongoing carnage ¡ªjust because everyone out there was dead didn¡¯t mean the monsters feasting wasn¡¯t an ongoing visual and aural treat¡ªbore intricate floral designs. Interestingly, these were both animate and behaving more than slightly coquettishly towards the people they were protecting. To be frank, the flowers were giving it quite a lot of "Come on in, the flora''s lovely," as if they were advertising their wares in some sort of weird Red Light district. But for flowers. Lorelei was not quite sure what to make of that. She assumed that the System had seen Disney¡¯s ¡®Alice in Wonderland¡¯ and thought anxious people would be soothed by some sexy plants giving it the ¡®come on¡¯. She would be happy to confirm on any feedback form that this was another example of whoever was in charge misjudging the situation. Flanking the rather erotically charged floral gates were some reassuringly stout brick pillars that might have been lifted from an architectural sketchbook labelled "Classic, but Make It Fancy," which were connected to a pleasingly robust eight-foot tall brick wall that boxed the Botanical Garden in. So far, none of the monsters outside had made much of an attempt to climb it. A man in a loincloth ¨C but not really the body to pull it off ¨C saw her looking and decided to sealion his way into her thought process. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, they won¡¯t be able to get over that. It¡¯s far too high.¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. While grateful to, once more, be bathed in the aura of utter confidence of a middle-aged white man, Lorelei did feel within her rights to have a follow-up question. ¡°How about the ones that can fly?¡± The man frowned for a moment, but then his testosterone kicked back in, and he shrugged, dismissing the silly girl''s unnecessary technicality about things beyond her understanding. ¡°No worries. If any of them try that, we¡¯ll kill them. Trust me, you¡¯ll be perfectly safe in here.¡± Knowing that all that was necessary from her in this conversation was to be an impressed, cooing decorative object, Lorelei smiled, simpered and made her excuse to leave as soon as possible. Walking away from Brian ¨C a Level 6 Mountain Barbarian who was very much not compensating for anything with the giant broadsword he insisted she touched - she found herself walking on a lawn so meticulously kept it was pretty damn smug about it. Flower beds burst with seasonal colours ¨C as in colours from all the seasons. Again, the System seemed to have understood the concept of flowers but not necessarily how they worked ¨C strutted their petals with the confidence usually reserved for runway models. Or Mountain Barbarians. The air was thick with the combined fragrance of roses and jasmine, potent enough to give even the most stoic of noses a moment of blissful surrender. Mind you, anything that masked the smell of blood and gore from outside would get Lorelei¡¯s vote any day. Just to the left of all the greenery, Lorelei could see a stone path meandering through a grove of trees which waved happily at her. Considering how flirty the flowers on the gate were, she did not think she¡¯d be taking a stroll in those deep, dark woods in the near future. She had her virtue to think about, after all. Moving on from the potentially rapey ferns, to Lorelei¡¯s right, was a shimmering mass of glass and white steel which looked rather like a giant, posh terrarium. Which was precisely what it was. Its dome rose to the sky, towering above the trees. Lorelei could remember coming here on a school visit and knew that around this central hothouse were a number of other ¡®themed¡¯ spaces. For example, a Japanese garden, complete with a traditional wooden bridge and stone lanterns, exuding an air of calm that might help her pretend the Integration had never happened. And nearby would be a massive herb garden that was a riot of thyme, rosemary, and lavender, offering an experience which ¨C if all the sexualised plants were a consistent theme - could only be described as "herbalicious." Strategically placed along the paths leading through the gardens were benches made of dark teak wood, inviting the survivors of the carnage to sit and reflect on how Day One had gone. Or, more likely, have a bit of a cry. The gentle sound of water trickling from hidden fountains made it clear more than a few people were availing themselves of that second opportunity. Looking around, from what Lorelei could tell, there were a good few hundred people with her inside this Amber Zone, which was both good and terrible at the same time. ¡®Good¡¯ that a decent number of people had managed to survive the devastation of the journey here, but ¡®terrible¡¯ that there were not many more. Even assuming that there were lots of other Green, Amber and Red Zones across the world, it seemed to her that the System had really screwed the pooch in thinning human numbers out. As if in response to her thought ¨C which was becoming a regular enough thing that she would need to be a bit more careful with her idle wondering ¨C her attention was grabbed by an *** End of Day One Message ***, which began ticker taping across her vision. By the way everyone around her paused, it was clear they had all received the same contact.
Greetings, Esteemed Citizens of Earth (Planetary Recognition Code pending), We hope you have enjoyed your early experiences of your Integration into our cosmos of boundless opportunities. As Day One draws to a close, please take the opportunity to review your Class. Should you have questions, a Build Consultant will be happy to meet with you to discuss the Strengths and Weaknesses of your current position. Speak to your nearest Merchant to get access to this resource. Please remember that the path of growth is both wondrous and challenging. It is through embracing your chosen path with dedication and fervour that you will be able to achieve all you desire. In this vein, could we please remind you that our vast and vibrant System encourages you to cultivate your abilities in harmony and peace? Whilst we appreciate the desire to advance quickly through the Levels, there have been a number of incidents on Day One whereby the strong have taken from the weak rather than seeking to support them in their development. Thus, to preserve the spirit of collaboration through which our System operates, you have all now been moved to zones of an appropriate Level tier. Please do not seek to victimise those who have been gathered into a lower tier. You should seek to forge alliances and build friendships with those who can add value to the world, not kill those who are on a slower journey than yourselves. New quests will roll out at midday of Day Two, which will, in an ability-appropriate way, give you the opportunity to level up. Again, please do not seek to enter zones beneath your tier in this interim period. There are far more honourable ways to gain XP. So, sleep well, brave citizens of Earth. May your dreams be filled with enlightenment, and may your path lead you to the pinnacle of your potential. And, please, one final time, we ask you not to take advantage of those unable to fairly fight back against you. Your destiny is forged in the stars, and you will wish to greet the heavens with a clear conscience. With Cosmic Regards, [Your Regional System Administrator - Milky Way Branch]
¡°For fuck¡¯s sake,¡± Lorelei muttered to no one in particular. ¡°What¡¯s wrong? I thought it was a nice message.¡± A short, dumpy woman who had long ago decided that black was flattering and was going to lean in frowned at her. ¡°Sure, if you ignored the bit where it painted a giant, flashing ¡®hit me¡¯ sign on this zone¡¯s back.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be silly. It told everyone not to attack lower-tier zones. We¡¯ll be fine in here.¡± ¡°Yes. And if we¡¯ve learned anything today, it¡¯s that everyone is doing exactly what they are told. If there was anyone above Level 8 out there that hadn¡¯t considered coming here and slaughtering us all for the XP, that message has certainly put it in their minds.¡± The woman in black moved away from Lorelei, clearly deciding they were not going to be gal pals. Which was absolutely fine. Because Lorelei knew exactly what was going to happen next. And she wanted to get ready. Chapter Twenty-Three - Danger! High Voltage It was barely half an hour later before a group of Level 9 and 10 ne''er-do-wells could be found huddled in the shadows just beyond the walls of the Botanical Gardens. They hadn¡¯t been the first ones in the Red Zone to understand the implications of the *** End of Day One *** message, but they¡¯d been the quickest out of the gate when it came to forming a pick-up group, suiting up for a little light mayhem and then high tailing it out here to the Amber Zone. They knew that a similar group was making its way up the road to the Green Zone at the cricket stadium, but they¡¯d turned their noses up at that sort of slaughter. They¡¯d even been able to convince themselves they¡¯d done so because at least the guys behind this wall had a theoretical chance of being able to defend themselves. There was some ¨C extremely tarnished, it was fair to say ¨C honour in that. Deep down, though, the reality was they¡¯d each run the numbers and reckoned the sheer weight of players of that low level they¡¯d need to kill in the Green Zone to gather any decent amount of XP just wasn¡¯t going to be worth schlepping out to the back and beyond of Edgbaston for. No, that was just going to be more trouble than it was worth. This little nightime slaughter though? Well, if they were lucky, they¡¯d be able to sneak in here and murder a bunch of isolated Level 8s in their sleep before the rest of the lunatics in the Red Zone arrived, and things became more - if briefly - difficult. The small group¡¯s leader, a tall figure clad in dark leather armour, scanned the brick perimeter with a calculating gaze. His name was Drax ¨C well, actually, it was William. But if there was one good thing that was going to come out of this damned integration, it was that he would get a name change out of it ¨C and he was a Shadowblade with a very quickly earned reputation for being both ruthless and efficient. Considering that, only the day before, William had been living a fairly unremarkable life as a loss adjuster for a mid-sized insurance company, it may be thought somewhat noteworthy he was to be found, knives in hand, skulking outside the wall of the Botanical Gardens, considering the easiest way to break in, kill some people, and then get back to base in time for a celebratory hot chocolate. And, in the very few quiet moments there had been for William in the last twelve hours, he had tried to unpick exactly what had happened to him that had brought this change about. As far as he could reckon it, at some stage between garrotting his boss with a telephone wire and skewering his eighth Wolf with a ¡®borrowed¡¯ letter opener, he had transformed into Drax. And it turned out Drax really didn¡¯t give a fuck at all. In fact, of the many seismic changes brought about by the System integration, the removal of the layers of civilisation that had kept William¡¯s belligerent frustration at his wasted life in check, had led to something fairly dramatic. Funnily enough, it turned out that if you suddenly switched off forty-three years of repressed, middle-class Englishness at the same time as opening the Class ability sweetshop, shit got real pretty quickly. What that meant, right now, with his skill active and with his passive buff enhancing his Speed to a shocking degree, was that Drax could not ever remember being quite so at peace with himself. Next to him, Hex ¨C this time, surprisingly, her real name ¨C a wiry woman with an arsenal of vials and potions strapped around her waist, adjusted her backpack. After choosing the Alchemist Assassin Class, Hex had quickly discovered she had a knack ¨C nay, a passion - for making things go boom. She had made the jump to Level 9 in record time after bringing down the tower block in which she had lived ¨C although ¡®existed¡¯ might have been a more accurate description. It was hard to ¡®live¡¯ too carefree amongst the dealers, addicts and general detritus of humanity that had been her social circle. If William¡¯s heart had nurtured some pretty explosive repressed rage, it was nothing to the white-hot wrath that existed within Hex. If the part of Birmingham where she was from tended to accumlate life¡¯s casulties, then it also gathered together more than its fair share of predators. As it turned out, there was a lot of XP in wholesale demolition ¨C especially with the residents still inside ¨C she had ranked up pretty damn fast. Despite her general anger towards all things male, Hex had a particular fondness ¨C although the emotion did not cut as deeply as that - for Mike, the burly Warrior, the only ¡®friend¡¯ from her previous life to survive her impression of Joshua at Jericho. "So," she whispered to him, "planning to bring the whole zone down on us again? Or do you only do that on special occasions?" Mike grunted, a massive hammer resting against his shoulder. "Just stick to your potions, Hex, and leave the heavy lifting to me," he rumbled. Mike had the patience of a saint, or so his mother had liked to say. Mostly because saints were known for not throttling their friends, no matter how much they deserved it. He had been following Hex around for the day ¨C because there was something about a girl who literally made your life go bang that he was oddly drawn to. Floating behind the first little group, Seraph ¨C another nome de integration - a lithe Stormcaller with eyes that glowed with otherworldly light, chuckled softly. On the journey from the Red Zone, Seraph had enjoyed watching the ongoing flirtation between Hex and Mike. It was certainly better than most of the entertainment in her previous job as . . . this is a family show, so let¡¯s call her a ¡®masseuse¡¯. Most of her clients ¨C at least in their last few moments as she gave new meaning to the words ¡®unhappy ending¡¯ ¨C would probably agree. "Play nice, babes," she said, sparks of electricity dancing along her fingers. "Remember, we''ve got some lovely XP to collect." Beside her ¨C and the last member of this little homicidal party - Nye, a silent Beast Whisperer, rolled her eyes. Her shadowy panther, an entirely silent presence since it had appeared when she selected her Class, mirrored her exasperation. Nye preferred the company of her animals to this band of misfits ¨C working at the animal park would do that. The panther, at least, didn¡¯t argue back. She notched an arrow and tested the tension on her bowstring, her gaze fixed on the unsuspecting Amber Zone. "Just keep quiet and do your parts," she muttered. She didn''t know any of these people, and she didn''t particularly want to. Her animal companions were the only one she trusted. She was making quite rapid progress through the Levels. One of the features of her Class was that she shared the XP of anything that any of her bonded beasts killed. Having released every animal from its cage in the zoo she was picking up quite an impressive stream of passive XP every few minutes. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. None of these assassins felt a moment''s worry about what they were about to do. Part of that, of course, was the emotional dampening. Mind you, this was helped on its way by a decent helping of personalities that were just itching for an opportunity to ¡®show what they could do¡¯ in a world that had kept them down too long. And, to be fair, a major part of their attitude to the upcoming massacre was sheer pragmatism. There were some scary fuckers in the Red Zone, and theu could see that the only way to make it through Day Two and beyond was to be strong enough to protect themselves. If that meant merking a bunch of walking bags of free XP, then . . . well, survival of the fittest and all that. Drax raised a hand, and the group fell silent. "We hit hard; we hit fast," he said, his voice low and commanding. Exactly as he had always imagined it could have been if he hadn¡¯t been passed over for countless promotions. "Kill who we can and get out before too many of them fight back." His eyes flicked to each of them, lingering a moment longer on Hex and Mike, who exchanged a glare but nodded. He wasn¡¯t wild about those two knowing each other from before the integration. He worried it gave them an advantage, but they seemed happy to follow his orders thus far. But the night was still very young. Nods all around. They meant business, even if they didn''t particularly like each other, they were far more worried about those pushing the boundaries of Level 12. They needed to close that gap as soon as possible, or they were going to end up just like the poor schmucks they were about to kill. With a final glance at each other, they moved as one, jumping over the wall of the Amber Zone with ease. The lower-level denizens inside had no idea what was coming ¨C they did not even seem to have left anyone watching the gates. As they moved through the shadows, Drax glanced back at Hex, who was silently mixing something in a vial as she ran. "What''s that?" he asked, trying to sound casual. "Insurance," she replied with a smirk. "Just in case things get... complicated." Drax narrowed his eyes but said nothing. He didn''t trust her, but he needed her skills. For now. Hex felt Drax''s gaze and rolled her eyes. She had no intention of blowing up the team, not unless she had to. Trust wasn''t exactly her strong suit, especially not with men who fancied themselves leaders. She glanced at Mike, who was scanning the area ahead. He looked like he could crush her with one hand, but she wasn''t intimidated. They had known each other since they were kids. He was the only one who had looked at for her when . . . the bad things had happened. Then she looked over at Seraph. Her feelings towards that bitch were more complicated. Seraph, for her part, could feel Hex''s eyes on her and sighed inwardly. She had not time for the girl. Her magic was her shield and sword, and she trusted it more than any of these people. Her attention shifted to Nye, who was moving with infinite grace. At least that one seemed competent, if annoyingly aloof. With luck, once they¡¯d picked off enough of these of the low levels, they¡¯d never have to see each other again. They had reached the giant glass and metal hot house where, presumably, the lower-level adventurers went snoozing. Drax signalled for them to spread out. "Remember," he whispered, "quick and clean. And quiet! If enough of them get their shit together, this could get difficult." Hex vanished through the door, her movements silent and deadly. She positioned herself towards the back of the room, her eyes already assessing the most valuable targets in the sleeping forms. Mike took up a position by the main gate, ready to create a distraction with his giant hammer. He did his best to ignore the wolf whistles of the flowers who seemed very keen to make his acquaintance. Seraph moved to a high vantage point, the top of one of the giant trees, preparing her spells. Nye and her panther slipped into the underbrush, bow at the ready. The attack, when it came, began with a sudden explosion¡ªa small, precise detonation courtesy of Hex. Panic erupted among the lower classed refugees, and Mike seized the moment, his hammer crashing into the ground and sending shockwaves through the area. The denizens of the Amber Zone scattered in terror, their safe zone turning into chaos. ¡°Fucking hell, guys. I said quiet!¡± Drax grabbed the arm of a young man running past him ¨C was he a Level 5? ¨C and quickly slit his throat. The wash of XP, and no little blood, calming ¨C a little ¨C his anger. Seraph unleashed a storm of lightning, targeting those who tried to organise a defence. Her spells crackled through the air, a deadly display of power which no one here was able to match. At least, not having just woken up to this chaos. Nyx''s arrows flew with lethal accuracy, each shot finding its mark. Her panther leaped from the shadows, adding to the confusion and fear. Mastering his anger at the ¡®quiet¡¯ part of the plan being so quickly abandoned, Drax moved through the chaos with practiced ease, his twin blades cutting down any who dared to stand in his way and, actually, quite a few running in blind terror. He spotted a tall Knight Errant trying to rally his comrades and dispatched him with a [Throwing Dart]. Despite it all being much louder than expected, this was going better than he had hoped. He could feel the next Level getting closer with each death. But as the chaos continued, Drax couldn''t shake the feeling that something was off. The ease with which they were overpowering the safe zone''s defences seemed almost too easy. Of course, they were the strongest people in the gardens, but he would still have thought someone would have given them trouble. He glanced around at his, for want of a better word, ¡®team¡¯, each of them fully engaged in the attack, and felt a pang of unease. Trusting them was a gamble, and he hated gambling with unknown odds. It was a residue of his job, he assumed. Luck and gut instinct was not to be trusted. Hex, amid her alchemical chaos, noticed Drax''s hesitation. "Something wrong, fearless leader?" she called out, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Just keep moving," Drax snapped back and then noticed something. Just to the left of their position, down a very green hill stood an old-fashioned bandstand. But it wasn¡¯t the structure itself that had caught his notice. No, it was the woman stood in the middle of it. Tossing a coin. Tossing a coin and swearing a lot. Chapter Twenty-Four - Lost control, hit a wall, but were alright It had been a good plan. Not, perhaps, a great plan. She hadn¡¯t had one of those since this whole integration thing had started. But it was a decent, unspectacular one. Solid. The sort of plan that Jason Statham would play in a movie. Nothing earth-shattering, but it would get the job done without anyone feeling too dirty in the morning. The plan had three major steps. Step One: Hide in the bandstand at the bottom of this hill. Which she had managed to do; even before the screaming had started. Good. Sound start. When about to come under attack by people significantly tougher than you, you leg it to a nice, safe, defensible position. She had located a convenient place to shelter and was all set to weather whatever storm was approaching. Well done, Lorelei. Spot on. No notes. Step Two: If you¡¯re feeling punchy, use your ability at covert range attacks to snipe at the attackers from cover. Okay. So, step two was a little more off-brand, but it¡¯s not easy to watch the wholesale slaughter of people who aren¡¯t really able to defend themselves. The way she figured it, it shouldn¡¯t hurt too much to try to load up some negative debuffs on the attackers using whenever it was off cooldown. She just needed to make sure they didn¡¯t notice her and come exploring. Unfortunately, Step Three was where the shitshow had begun. For whatever reason, she was five in and just couldn¡¯t seem to trigger a positive result. On the plus side, it wasn¡¯t that the negative results were too terrible for once. Only one of them - It¡¯s all in the wrist ¨C caused her any real immediate issue, and she had enough Mana left over to use fairly liberally to repair the strange crab claws that had replaced both of her hands. But that wasn¡¯t the point. Lorelei understood that it wasn¡¯t all upside having a chance-based Class, but it seemed pretty unlikely that she¡¯d just keep coming up negative. Apropos of nothing, she was reminded of the opening of ¡®Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead¡¯ ¨C Tim Roth has never looked hotter ¨C where there were ninety-two coin tosses with the same result in a row. ¡°A weaker woman might be moved to re-examine her faith, if in nothing else at least in the law of probability,¡± she misquoted. Going for another throw. Somewhat inevitably, though, it was her sixth failure in a row that drew the attention of one of the fuckers who had broken into the gardens. The shady-looking one who was being extremely liberal with the old stabby-stabby action. Lorelei swore, ignoring that had just given the assassin walking towards her a +10% Strength buff. That she was able to let this slide had more to do with the fact that the dude was already so far above her in Level that a little stat polishing was hardly the biggest issue she was about to have than any great magnanimity on her behalf. ¡°Guide, what the fuck is going on? This is an insane run of negative results.¡±
*** Help Message ***
Normally, I¡¯d tell you to ¡®suck it up, buttercup¡¯, but ¨C looking at the logs - I think you might have a point. Bear with me for just a moment.
¡°Sure, no worries. The guy with the knives coming this way seems like the friendly sort. Chatty. I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll be happy to postpone whatever horrible future he has planned for me. Take your time.¡± * The System A.I. ¨C or at least the very small, infinitesimally redundant sub-routine that was concerning itself with Fortuna¡¯s Herald ¨C once again parsed the code connected to Lorelei¡¯s run of negative outcomes and frowned. Or would have done if it had anything as mundane as a face to show expressions. For the sake of narrative fluency, however, let¡¯s anthropomorphise things just for a bit. Sure, it knew that things were not going as well as could have been hoped during this integration. As the A.I. in charge, a significant proportion of the blame there would fall on its shoulders. There was a defence to be made, of course. There was no way this planet was ready to be Systemised. The levels of violence witnessed were beyond any parameters it had ever heard of. Someone somewhere had dropped an almighty clanger, and heads, thoraxes, and mandibles would roll once the full extent of the snafu became apparent. But that didn¡¯t absolve it of all blame. There were decisions that it had made, and hotfixes it had introduced that ¨C if not exactly made things worse - then certainly hadn¡¯t resolved the ongoing skip fire. Almost from the very first moments, it had found itself on the back foot. Excitement at new powers was all well and good, but these guys had been something else. It did not think it had ever heard of such a speedy population reduction, and it was not sure the steps it had taken to halt this had quite worked out. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Take just this latest idea¡ªto try to separate out the players of different levels to give those in the early stages of progression a chance not to be murdered horribly. A perfectly viable strategy, and one with a long history of such a tier-system being implemented on countless other planets. On any normal world, the beings would have settled down into their new zones and began to grind experience ¨C farming or cultivating or chopping trees down and the like. That was what civilised creatures in a Systemised universe did. Here, however? There was none of it. Instead of stabilising things, the plan seemed to have increased the levels of chaos. The first thought of all the guys in the Red Zones was to seek out lower-tier zones and begin slaughtering everything they found. As approaches to levelling-up went, the A.I. could agree there was a certain bloody-minded focus to that. But as a worldwide response to being told to leave the little people alone? Fucking hell, these things were nasty. Although, maybe, it had aggravated things a touch with all the emotional dampening . . . But no one liked a Monday morning System A.I and the fact remained whatever was going on was so far removed from all training models that it was winging it on a second-by-second basis. However, when that was the case, it also gave others the opportunity to play up. The A.I was already pretty brassed off that one of the Old Ones had slipped in under its radar. Again, there were mitigating circumstances for not noticing the arrival of that particular horror show, but now she was here, he felt he had made the best of a bad deal with her. Which made what was going on with her Herald particularly aggravating. Fortuna had only really asked one thing of it, ¡®you do not deal to my Herald from a marked deck¡¯. It could live with that. There was no way a luck-based Class wasn¡¯t going to fuck itself up eventually. No need for it to do anything other than wait for that to happen. However, from everything it could see in the logs, something ¨C or someone ¨C was trying to fiddle the books. For example, the second of Lorelei¡¯s should have realised a positive result, dealing some fairly sizeable psychic damage to one of the Level 9s, causing chaos in the Amber Zone. But that hadn¡¯t happened. Instead, there had been six negative results in a row, and Fortuna¡¯s Herald was about to get shish-kabobbed. This gave the A.I. two major problems. Firstly, Fortuna was going to be pissed if her Herald was rubbed out on loaded dice. It spent a moment wondering if there was a chance she wouldn¡¯t find out and then gave that sort of wishful thinking up sharpish. Secondly, though, was the more sizeable problem. It didn¡¯t know who was playing games. Or, more importantly, why. * ¡°Guide, I don¡¯t want you to think I¡¯m being needy or anything. But if you aren¡¯t planning on helping me soon, I don¡¯t think it¡¯s going to matter . . .¡± Lorelei slowly backed around the edge of the bandstand away from Drax, who was very much in ¡®playing with his food¡¯ mode. By his reckoning, he only needed to kill one more Level 4 to get the XP to crossover into his next level. That this particular Level 4 was separated from the crowd and appeared to have no offensive skills at all was going to be a good end to a pretty decent day. He glanced back up the hill to see how the rest of his group was doing. From what he could tell, only Seraph was still actively hunting and killing. The others had retired to the strangely sexualised flower gates and were obviously preparing to leave. From their somewhat anxious expression, Drax assumed they¡¯d caught wind of the rest of the Red Zone about to descend on this place, and they were not too anxious to get caught in the carnage. He figured he would be wise to join them. Using his enhanced Speed, he blurred towards the young woman, twin knives raised, going for the kill. In response, Lorelei threw herself over the edge of the bandstand¡¯s rail, narrowly avoiding the attack, just as some words fluttered across her vision. She landed in a flowerbed ¨C an unnecessarily thorn-filled one, she thought - and began running away, reading as she did.
*** Help Message ***
Okay, so ¨C without getting into the whys and the wherefores ¨C it appears there¡¯s something a little odd going on with your last few rolls. I want to make clear for the benefit of anyone ¨C say a wandering Old One - who may be observing what is occurring and taking a dim view of my handling of the situation that I¡¯m on it. While I work out how to squash the bug, I am going to award you a very temporary buff. Don¡¯t get used to this sort of treatment, sweet stuff.
There was a soft ding, and a notification appeared.
Congratulations! You are the beneficiary of an administrative fuck-up. For a limited time only, all will be resolved in your favour. There is also no cooldown to using this skill. You will need to dance like a legend, though. Please mention my speedy resolution process to your patron if she should bring it up.
* Drax had seen many sights in the last few hours. Most of them were truly horrific, although - for reasons he did not quite understand ¨C none of them bothered him at all. After all, he had seen things and done things that he would have expected would have him monologing lyrically about attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion or C-beams glittering in the dark near the Tannh?user Gate. However, no. He remained resolutely without PTSD. Or guilt. Or really any feeling at all. Nevertheless, for all his grim and bloody experiences of late, he still did not have a context for his latest victim to stop trying to escape, turn around and approach him doing a dance routine he recognised as being from Thriller. It took all sorts, he thought. And threw a dagger at her face. Drax had just a moment of surprise that, rather than take the dancing woman in the eye, the knife struck a slate that, coincidentally, had fallen from the roof of the bandstand at just that second. The dagger clanged off the dislodged tile, reversing course in an entirely unlikely change of direction and sailed backwards to go straight through his throat. Killing him instantly. Ignoring a rush of XP that left her quite dizzy, Lorelei turned to look up the hill where the rest of the group that had caused such destruction to the Amber Zone were waiting in a conveniently tightly packed circle. ¡°Oh. It¡¯s so on,¡± she whispered. Chapter Twenty-Five - Im comin up fast. Ill be burnin rubber, youll be kissin my ass. "Well, that was all fairly dramatic, wasn''t it?" Lorelei smiled in her most unthreatening manner, very aware of the appalled regard of the surviving denizens of the Amber Zone. Having spent a career working in HR, she was comfortable with her appearance rarely being a cause for celebration. It was not that she had never been especially popular, but rather that Human Resources was not the happy, fun, laid-back department people tended to assume. Her arrival at parties had tended to require a sobering¡ªand a buttoning¡ªup. Nevertheless, considering she had just saved these people from a pretty wholesale slaughter at the hands of those of a much higher level, she did think they could dial up the ''my friend, you bow for no one'' energy and lose the ''oh fuck, there''s suddenly a red lightsabre and heavy breathing at the end of this corridor.'' On reflection, though, Lorelei could see that, objectively, what these people had just seen happen would have looked like quite the shitshow. With temporarily buffed only to produce positive results, things had gone downhill reasonably quickly for those who had been, up until that moment, enjoying a fairly trouble-free massacre. Firstly, the wild-haired woman throwing out jars filled with noxiously unpleasant substances had the unfortunate experience of all the vials she was carrying in a bandelo around her torso spontaneously combusting. This was both spectacularly unlucky for her and also for the big man with the hammer who happened to be standing next to her. On the plus side, though, he did not have very long to regret his positional sense. Indeed, there was a distinct Wicked Witch of the West vibe to the smoking shoes that both figures left behind. As they were blown away, Lorelei again received a pleasant wash of XP and experienced the sensation she was beginning to connect with levelling up. But the fun didn''t stop there. Without pausing, Lorelei had continued running up the hill towards the entrance and, with the next toss of her coin, saw the rather skimpily dressed woman floating around, raining thunderbolts down left, right, and centre, being buffeted towards the gates by a sudden¡ªand unlikely¡ªgust of wind. It turned out that lightning, giant metal spikes, and human flesh were quite the combination. Another outpouring of XP came her way. Finally, the smell of the cooking meat seemed to drive a massive fucking panther whose mouth and claws were soaked in blood, rather out of its mind. It leapt towards the nearest fresh body, a thin, intense-looking teenager, who reacted to the deadly assault with all the screaming incredulity and surprise of a pit bull owner who, having fucked around, was very much finding out. A final toss of her coin had a stray bolt from the barbequed remains of the lightning-flinger arc downwards to incinerate the panther. The whole debacle had taken about ninety seconds.
***Help Message***
Just for clarity, there is absolutely no fucking way in the world I am going to let you keep all of that XP. As soon as I figure out who was screwing with your rolls, I''m going to nerf those gains so hard you''ll be lucky not to end up at a minus level.
To be honest, Lorelei didn''t much care about that, right now. One moment, she was about to be murdered horribly, and now she was alive. Of course, it would have been nice to have reached whatever Level her epically cool slaughter of her attackers would have led her to, but she couldn''t exactly argue that it had been hard-earned. Still, she had a few other pressing problems. Namely the complete horror and concern being generated towards her by the survivors of the assault on the Botanical Gardens. "Did . . . did you do that?" A spotty young man in the most elaborate robes Lorelei had seen¡ªbefore or after¡ªthe integration cautiously moved towards her. "I mean," he waved a hand at what remained of the corpses of those who had come from the Red Zone, "was that you?" "I suppose the answer to that question depends on how grateful you are all feeling. If it''s going to be cheers, high fives and lashings of ginger beer, then absolutely. All me. Please begin the celebrations. On the other hand, if you''re all feeling a bit ''burn the witch'' about it, then I need to tell you about hotfixes and entirely temporary powers." The Necromancer - she didn''t like to judge, but a collection of zombie cheerleaders was following this dude around, so she was going to - half tilted his head to one side and tried to plaster on a smile. "I think I speak for us all when I say we''re feeling cautiously warm towards you." He looked left and right, and there was a panicked nodding of heads and some minor ''hear, hear'' from them. Lorelei was concerned how few of those she had seen enter the Amber Zone just a few hours before still seemed to be hale and hearty. Those higher-level guys didn''t fuck about. Well, she thought, they certainly didn''t anymore. "Well, that''s good, I guess. ''Cautiously warm'' I can work with."
*** Help Message ***
Okay, this is one of those ''good news/ bad news'' things, honeybunch. I''ve managed to isolate how your rolls were compromised, and I am confident that it shouldn''t happen again. I sincerely hope anyone who might be taking an interest acknowledges that I did this quickly, effectively, and with appropriate recompense offered and thus decides not to wipe me from existence.
"Okay, fair enough. This sounds like largely good news. However, it not being my first rodeo with you, I''m awaiting the other shoe to drop." Lorelei was aware that strange women talking to themselves was essentially not the sort of behaviour crowds of nervous people naturally relaxed around. However, it felt like the Guide had some vital information to share, and she figured they were cowed enough right now not to make a deal of it if she did not give them her full attention.
***Help Message***
Well, to begin with, I''ve removed the temporary buff, so there will be no more whole-scale destruction for you. And, as indicated, I''m only going to let you move up one Level.
"Seriously!"
*** Settle Down Message***
Look, you''d have been dead without me locking that ''good'' fortune in during that attack. I''m comfortable with defending the action should anyone else have noticed. Still, an argument could be made that this was an inappropriate intervention by an A.I and I have enough shit to be going on with right now without adding an internal investigation to it. So, you get one Level. And you will say ''thank you''. And stop your fucking moaning. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
To be truthful, Lorelei wasn''t too disappointed to hear that - a Level was Level, after all - but she would be lying if she hadn''t felt a momentary thrill about the potential of what she could do at Level 9 or 10. The devastation those guys she had killed had wrought was pretty epic - she wondered what she would be able to do when she had access to that sort of power? That thought, combined with the increasingly alarmed expressions on the faces of the crowd before her, suddenly brought that train of thought to an abrupt halt. When did she start thinking, with sadistic glee, about the sort of death and destruction she could cause when she became more powerful? That wasn''t her, was it? She had spent a lifetime smoothing out the chaotic fall-out caused by irresponsible bosses. Why would she now be enjoying her own potential to be a despot? Lorelei felt . . . no, ''odd'' didn''t quite cut it. She felt like she was not actually herself at all.
***Help Message***
You do remember a whole conversation around the words ¡®Chaotic Good¡¯ right? These alignement labels aren¡¯t just for Christmas . . .
Reflexively, Lorelei summoned up her stats sheet.
Lorelei Norton: Fortuna''s Herald
Level 5 Experience 920/1000 Health 350/350 Mana 282/282
Primary Stats
Strength 11 Agility 24 (+3 Gloves of the Seer, +10% Veil of Vindication) Stamina 16 (+2 Cloak of the Wanderer) Intellect 30 (+5 Gloves of the Seer, +2 Double Headed Coin of Fate) Spirit 22 (5% from Vigilante title + 3 from Earrings of the Lucky Gambler)
Secondary Stats
Critical Strike 12% (2% from Whispering Gloves of the Seer + 1% from Double-Headed Coin of Fate + 2% from Earrings of the Lucky Gambler Haste 10% (+ 1% from Earrings of the Lucky Gambler) Mastery 6% Versatility 5%
Skills
Lucky Strike (Passive)- Sometimes you hit, sometimes you miss, sometimes you accidentally help the enemy. It''s a surprise!
Coin Toss Conundrum (Active)- Flip a coin to decide your next move. Heads, you unleash a devastating attack; tails, you heal your enemy. Bonus points for dramatic mid-air coin flipping. Mana Cost: 50. Cooldown: 2 mins.
Random Resilience (Active)- You might shrug off a dragon''s breath or trip over a pebble. Life''s a lottery! Mana Cost: 100% of available pool. Cooldown: 24 hours.
Charmed Life (Active): You do seem to spend a lot of time getting hurt. Have a heal skill. But, to make it interesting, let''s randomise how much healing it does. Oh, and just for shits and giggles, it will give you a random status effect for 2 mins. 30 MP cost. No cooldown.
The Old Swapperoonie (Active): Wah! Why is all my luck bad? Wah! For someone with a luck-based Class, you don''t half moan a lot about random outcomes . . . Once per day, you can offload all the negative consequences of your abilities onto someone else. The timer does not reset if your poor patsy dies. 200 mana cost. 24 hours cooldown.
Inventory
Double-Headed Coin of Fate (Nerfed) Cloak of the Wanderer (+ 2 Stamina) Whispering Gloves of the Seer (+5 Intellect, +3, +2% Critical Strike) Earrings of the Lucky Gambler: (+3 Spirit, Increases Critical Strike chance by 2%, and Haste by 1%) Skinning Knife 2x[20 Leather Offcut] 8 [Charred Steak] 7 [Charred Steak - poisoned]. Poisoned status is hidden.
25 Gold. 27 Silver. 8 Bronze
Professions
Jack of All Trades
  • Skinning - Lvl 23
  • Cooking (Life in Your Own Hands) ¨C Lvl 9
  • Leatherworking ¨C Lvl 1
  • Campfire - Novice
Talents (Level 5 Talent Available)
Spoilsport: Increases the chance of a positive by 5%. Level 5 Talent Options ¨C choose one 1. Fortune''s Favor Your good luck starts to rub off on others. Allies within a 10-meter radius gain a 5% increase in their Critical Strike chance when near you. 2. Chaotic Resilience The unpredictability of your defences increases. When taking damage, there''s a 20% chance to reduce the damage taken by 50%. 3. Gambler''s Grace Sometimes, luck is just on your side. Gain a 10% increase in Dodge chance and a 5% increase in Movement Speed.
Titles
Kobolds Worst Nightmare: 35% damage against Kobolds One Cold Bitch: Frost Resistance: +10% Vigilante: Spirit +5%
Lorelei still did not feel she had enough context to understand those numbers, but they seemed to be going in the right direction. Again, she felt a little moment of loss, as if she had not been able to get the total weight of XP from defeating her most recent foes, but she squashed it down hard. If there was one thing that she was determined to do, it was to not start viewing other humans as an opportunity to grow. That resolution made, Lorelei noticed - at the bottom of her stat sheet - was a flashing notification that she mentally clicked on. As with ''Spoilsport'', which she had gained at Level 2, this was obviously a bonus choice unlocked when passing a certain threshold. None of them was going to be a game-changer, but hopefully, they would all add up to something worthwhile as levelled up. After a moment''s thought, she selected the first option. Considering some of the thoughts running through her head, it might be wise to pick something that actually helped other people. Rather than killing them. "Sorry to interrupt, but are you quite well?" The teenage Necromancer had brought his zombie cheerleaders to stand in front of him in a protective formation. The rest of the group clearly were moving from ''cautiously warm'' towards their saviour, to preparing to jump her. Lorelei figured she was rapidly running out of time to be the helpful, mysterious stranger. "Guide, is that the extent of the bad news?"
***Help Message ***
Well, no. Not exactly. I''ve been able to lock down the method by which your roll results were changed, but I have no idea who was playing silly buggers with that obscure part of the code. In theory, only I have that ability and - well, it should go without saying that if my personality has degraded to such an extent I''m actively making life hard for myself, then this integration is screwed. I''m filing that under ''a problem for another day.'' More pressingly, however . . .
There was an awkward silence during which a suspiciously large number of weapons were now in the hands of the people who had moved to surround Lorelei. "There''s quite a lot that''s becoming pretty fucking ''pressing'' right now, Guide."
***Help Message***
Well, sweetcheeks, you can add that you have a large group of Level 10s approaching your position. And just so we are clear, there is no more hotfix for you. Good luck.
The words stopped scrolling across Lorelei''s eyes, and she was finally able to adequately focus on the lynch mob preparing to do something terminal about the very imminent threat they had identified in their midst. Lorelei managed to find her most reassuring smile, summoned up a reasonable tone and cleared her throat. "If I may, just before this gets messy, I have some news about some imminent arrivals . . ." Chapter Twenty-Six - In your head, in your head, they are dyin It was a surprisingly small group that snuck out the back way of the Botanical Gardens just before the descent ¨C in some cases, literally ¨C of thirty or forty Level 10s thirsty for blood. Lorelei was unsure whether this was because her new friends did not believe her story or, rather, if the day had been such a colossal shitshow that death seemed an attractive option. Whichever it was, it meant the obstinate, the paranoid and the completely untrusting were left behind to be utterly massacred by those on the hunt for some free XP. The escape had, in fact, been quite a close-run thing. From where the group of ten refugees ¨C not counting the zombies - chose to hide out, they could make out the screams, shrieks, and cries of those who had chosen to stay behind. This had the effect of both horrifying them and also making them look at their saviour - as they saw it - with slightly more respectful eyes. The place of relative safety they had reached was the remains of the White Horse pub that Lorelei could remember spending several enjoyable evenings in the recent past. Of course, as each of those had been with her ex-boss, the memories were, now she thought of it, somewhat tainted. Not unlike the pub itself which had lost most of one wall in what seemed to be some sort of giant acidic blob of slime attack. "So, you were telling us the truth . . ." Lorelei wasn''t sure how the Necromancer - whose name was Steffan - had ended up the spokesman for those who had chosen to flee the Amber Zone. Although she presumed it might have something to do with the little army of Zombie cheerleaders, he apparently controlled at will. She''d never been much of a fan of The Walking Dead, but she could see how someone controlling a posse of corpses could take charge. Initially, she''d found the whole ''submissive army of dead beauties'' thing a bit creepy. After her recent experiences with the Prick with the prick, Lorelei was feeling reasonably jaded about the male of the species. Finding herself in this particular pub again had brought these very much front and centre, and she had made several unflattering assumptions about what the young man''s intentions were in reanimating the corpses of eight very attractive, blonde cheerleaders. However, after some reasonably blunt discussions, her worst fears were proved unfounded. It turned out that Steffan himself was a cheerleader and, sadly, the sole survivor of his little troop. His attempts to save his terminally injured friends with the powers of his new Class had, unfortunately, turned out a touch awry, and he was now stuck with a semi-immortal - though very, very dead - zombie army. Back to the matter at hand, Lorelei thought. "Well, yes. I assumed you came with me because you believed what I was saying. Why else would you leave a ''safe'' zone?" Steffan screwed up his nose. "It''s hardly like the place felt all that ''safe'' anyway. We all saw what those guys were doing to the rest of us before you stepped up and saved us. We were only there in the first place because we got a quest telling us we had to. As far as I''m concerned, we''d be dead without you." Lorelei grimaced. While not revealing everything about her unusual Class, she had been at pains to make clear to the group that she wasn''t some sort of avenging superhero. Her little performance at the gates of the Botanical Gardens may have looked like spectacular powers being unleashed - but, in reality, she simply brought about a string of unfortunate coincidences - unfortunate for the bad guys, certainly - that had only been achievable because her primary offensive Skill had been temporarily buffed. It wasn''t quite a ''one-time'' deal, but neither was she going to put money on her stringing a combo that powerful together again. In fact, the more she thought about her Class, the more she was probably endangering those around her just by being near them. She would not put it past the System to start transferring some of the outcomes of her negative rolls over to anyone it saw as her allies. The quicker she could get herself away from these poor people, the better. She''d done her best not to engage any of them in conversation, but she could recognise the signs of significant trauma. Lorelei had no wish to be the cause of any more pain to them. "So, what next?" The speaker this time was a painfully thin, and yet oddly stacked woman called Monica who - had not Lorelei been told her Class was a standard healer build - she would have assumed was some sort of Vomitor. "Where are we headed now?" This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. "Look, I''m sorry if I have given any of you the wrong impression here, but there''s no ''we'' involved." Lorelei became aware that everyone was looking at her. This was almost precisely her worst nightmare. There was a reason she had chosen to make her career in HR. Lorelei was good with people in a very specific, supportive, and entirely limited way. The powers that be at Glyde and Glyde had recognised this trait in her and made use of it. If you had a job that needed doing¡ªand that job could be as unpleasant, immoral, or challenging as you like¡ªyou would give it to Lorelei, ensure she had entirely unambiguous instructions to follow, and then tick it off your list of things to worry about it. What you did not do was put her in front of a group of worried people and ask her to pull solutions out of her hat. She rarely shined in such situations. Feeling a blush come to her cheeks, Lorelei started to back away from them towards the door. "Look, you guys can do what you want. I''m glad you are alive, and I''m pleased that I played my part in that, but in lieu of a quest telling me that I need to escort you somewhere safe, I think it is best that we go our separate ways." Lorelei knew what was going to happen the minute she finished speaking. With a sense of crushing inevitability, the notification began to scroll across her vision.
*** Quest Awarded *** Save the cheerleaders, save the world
Objective: Get your new best friends somewhere safe.
Quest Description: Well, who would have thought it? One moment, you were running around, punching kobolds to death with your bare hands, and the next, you are suddenly the grizzled, reluctant saviour of a small group of helpless, gormless innocents. Don''t times change? We''ll keep this one nice and simple. Lead your faithful companions to the sanctuary of Lichfield Cathedral. They''ll be safe there. Promise.
1/3. Take no more than 49% casualties: Look, see how generous I''m being? I''m not even saying you have to keep all these fuckers alive. Collateral damage is entirely acceptable; I might even say desirable. Just get most of these guys through the Cathedral doors, and I''ll be happy. And there are Zombies in the group! Those little darlings are pretty much invincible. What''s not to like?
2/3. Take no longer than two days to reach your destination: It''s helpful to have some sort of jeopardy, isn''t it? To tell the truth, I have some spare Doom Clock animations I wasn''t properly able to roll out during the run for the Safe Zones, and I''d like the chance to make use of them. When time runs out, something suitably epic will happen, so don''t test me on this, okay?
3/3. Defeat the Chimera: You''d expect nothing else, would you? When you reach the Cathedral, there will be an appropriately difficult creature to defeat. For the sake of clarity, I want you to understand that this is a Party Quest. As in, you need to do it in a group. I don''t usually have to make this so clear at the start of an integration, but then some dozy fucker soloed a Kobold Guardian by mistake.
Rewards: I''ll come up with some sort of snazzy title for you. You love your titles, don''t you? Oh, and I''ll also gear up whichever of this motley crew makes it through alive. What''s that? Still not sold? Okay, well, depending on how you do, I''ll give you access to some of the XP I took off from your most recent kills. How much is entirely at my discretion.
By the look of fear/horror/despair that crossed the faces of those around her, Lorelei assumed that some version of that quest had also been shared with each of them. "I take it you all got that quest too?" Steffan looked around at the others, and then they gathered together towards the back of the pub. Lorelei looked around, noting the absence of any horribly mutilated bodies, which - who knew - was becoming fairly unusual of late. Then, she reflected; she assumed whatever gooey, slimy monster had melted the wall had probably absorbed whoever had been in there. Her life had become weird of late. After a few minutes of frantic negotiation, Steffan returned to her and coughed discretely. "It would seem that it will be very much in our interests to stay with you for the foreseeable future." From the expressions of several people in the group, this decision was not one that caused universal joy. "Just for my interest, what is your quest called?" "''Follow this lunatic, and half of you will die." "Okay. Well, that sounds fairly unambiguous. If I were you, I''d ensure you stayed as far away from me as possible. On that note . . ." Steffan grimaced and held up a hand, stalling her exit. "There''s also some commentary in the descriptions that should we not follow you, then the rest of us will die instead. I don''t think I''m the only one of us who is not certain this isn''t going to be a lose/lose scenario . . ." "Awesome. Thanks for that, Guide," she added under her breath. Lorelei took a deep breath and looked at the little group. Ten scared, worried, and baffled people¡ªnot counting the zombies¡ªwho really just wanted the chance to live. Could she really abandon them? Rubbing a tension headache that was forming at the centre of her head, she plastered on her most reassuring smile. "Okay, well, if we''re going to be travelling together, why don''t we share a little more about ourselves? For a start, what Classes do we all have?" Chapter Twenty-Seven - My breasts are small and humble. Dont confuse em with mountains Ignoring the cheerleader Zombies¡ªand Lorelei was doing her best to achieve this feat. Those things creeped her out¡ªthere were ten living, breathing people in the party she was being required to escort out of the city centre and over to the cathedral. Steffan the Necromancer was their de facto leader, although the more Lorelei spoke to him, the more she came to realise he did not really have the Charisma for that role. His approach to getting things done was to do an awful lot of talking, then aeons of listening, some empathetic nodding and ¨C if he still didn¡¯t get his own way ¨C have one of his undead army wander over and growl menacingly until his point of view won the day.It worked as an approach, for sure, but it hardly made him seem like the second coming of Marcus Aurelius. To help with his little game of intimidation, Steffan had eight Zombies in total ¨C did that count as an army? - but Lorelei had found that there was little point in trying to tell which was which. Quite apart from the fact that pre-death, they were all sporting the same uniform, hairstyle and elaborate make-up routine, the resurrection spell Steffan had used - something called , apparently - seemed to enforce a certain . . . busty, slicked-back hair, improbably willowy template upon them all. Despite being all Level 4s and having no name of their own, Steffan himself seemed to be able to identify his ex-friends from the horde - again, it''s six uni students in gym clothes. Is ''horde'' really appropriate? - but everyone else in the group simply viewed them, collectively, as ''horrible preview of what will become of me when I die." This was probably a touch unfair on the Necromancer as, having spoken to a few of the others, it seemed Steffan had been entirely unwilling to add to the number of his little war band by casting that spell on any other fallen friends or foes. However, that didn''t mean they weren''t afraid he wouldn''t get that particular horror show on the road anytime soon. For her part, Lorelei couldn¡¯t help but think that things would be happening an awful lot faster if the dude would just cut to the chase and lean into all the stereotypes around his Class. However, she was the last person to offer constructive build advice, so she kept her thoughts to herself. Lorelei could sense, though, at some stage, the trauma of losing all his friends and then reanimating their corpses into a terrifyingly submissive, and yet very hot, girl band was going to catch up with the young man. At which stage, he was probably going to go one of two ways: psychotic edge lord or full-on emotional breakdown. She was very much hoping he would continue to hold it together for the length of their journey to Lichfield. Of course, she realised as soon as she had that thought, trusting to luck was the one thing guaranteed to mean the poor guy would lose his shit any second. Tearing her eyes away from that little oncoming train wreck waiting to happen, Lorelei turned her attention to the two figures standing at either end of the group. These armoured bookends were what she assumed the Guide had meant by ''meat shields'' when it was offering her the warrior Class options a million years ago. Or was it just yesterday afternoon? Both were Level 3 - so they had hardly been tearing the place up with their derring deeds of do - but Steffan had said they''d done more than their bit to keep this impromptu group alive. The first was a beefy, rugby-playing type called Pete. His Class, Adamantine Sentinel, sounded pretty damn imposing, so it was, therefore, a shame that the man was easily on the wrong side of fifty and had clearly enjoyed many a pie in his time. Saying that, though, he was clad in armour so resplendent it would make a dragon covetous, and he also held a massive oblong shield that was less a tool and more an impenetrable wall. To show willing, Lorelei had tried to engage him in conversation but had quickly realised a) he was pretty deaf and b) he was from somewhere so northern he only appeared to speak in vowels. Nevertheless, given a choice, she much preferred Pete''s good-natured silence - and occasional inarticulate gargling - to the other massive figure standing at the opposite end of the pub. Hild was a statuesque brunette who had quickly let it be known she disliked pretty much everything about Fortuna''s Herald. Now, this was not Lorelei''s first time being looked down on; where this hit a little different was that it was the first time a fucking Level 3 Valkyrie had done so, literally peering down on her from seven feet in the air. Lorelei couldn''t help but feel it would have been nice for the sisterhood to come through for her at least once, but those were the breaks. Hild''s armour, a sleek ensemble of interlocking blackened leather plates, was obviously built for both formidable defence and the agility to dodge, and the massive axe she was resting on was not just for show either. She seemed to have a sardonic sense of humour, muttering snide little remarks while Lorelei was speaking. Steffan had assured her that, in the heat of battle, Hild was as dependable as it came, albeit one that clearly had taken against their ¡®saviour¡¯. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. "Guide, why are those two so ridiculously overgeared compared to me?"
***Help Message***
They''re what is known in the trade as ''tanks''. Fun fact: after things started to go downhill, it was suggested that I improve drop box quality for those focused on protecting others. Nice idea, right? And it worked perfectly. If by ''perfectly'', you mean it was a colossal disaster. It just meant a bunch of you fucking psychos worked out that mowing down and looting tanks was more profitable than focusing on the more squishy types. Have I mentioned that I am growing heartily sick with some of you chaos goblins?
Lorelei ignored that, turning instead to consider the members of the group that the Guide suggested could be described as ''damage dealers''. Steffan, in theory, fell into this category - providing he could ever bring himself to send his zombie ''army'' into battle. Alongside him were three versions of Mage, which an ever so positive *** Help Message *** had noted were heavy on the ''glass'' and less so on the ''cannon''. The three guys had all dived heavily into the ''I want to throw a fireball'' vibe, but judging by their low level, they hadn''t actually gotten around to dealing out all that much fiery death. The highest levelled of them, Zorrobar, was a fairly affable Friar Tuck of a man who seemed perpetually amused by the situation in which he found himself. The other two wizards . . . well, Lorelei did not wish to seem harsh, but it had been a trying few days, and she only had enough brain space for important details. For that reason, she had designated the taller of the two other mages, Red Shirt #1 and the shorter guy, Red Shirt #2. She wasn''t being callous, but between the pair of them, they''d nearly killed themselves a bunch of times just sitting in the damn pub. Neither was giving the vibe that they would likely be in this for the long haul. Starting to get disheartened at the quality of her little squad, Lorelei turned next to the two rat-like figures¡ªshe assumed they were related because they looked so alike¡ªdoing their best to break open the pub''s fruit machine. Michael and Michelle had described themselves to her as rogues, and it had taken the Guide''s intervention to clarify this was a Class description, not a general statement of personality deficiency. The brother and sister had both picked the same Class¡ªVeiled Stalker¡ªwhich did not exactly fill Lorelei with trust and belief in them as team players. The two were draped in muted, shadow-hued garb that blended seamlessly with their surroundings, no matter where in the pub they stood. Whenever she had tried to speak with them, they had exuded an aura of cold, calculating menace. Steffan had vouched for them, saying that, thus far, they had been reliable, if somewhat unnerving, presences. Lorelei was pretty sure that they were literally going to stab her in the back the first chance they got. However, you played the cards you were dealt, she thought. And then was quite proud of the luck-based metaphor. That left just the two figures the Guide had designated Healers. The first, Monica, was wearing a nurse''s costume that, to Lorelei''s mind, suggested ''stripper'' rather than ''serious medical professional''. Her fears had been confirmed when, in discussion, it appeared the woman had not entirely understood the implications of the integration and had chosen her Class based on the available outfit. Lorelei had mentally prepared to add her to the list of Red Shirts but then, remembering Clover''s ''Final Girl'' theory, realised that if anyone were likely to survive this shitshow, the AI would probably make sure it was the big-breasted blonde dressed as a slutty nurse. "Can she actually heal?" Lorelei had asked Steffan, watching dubiously as Monica rearranged her hat in the bar''s mirror. Steffan shrugged. "No idea. Kris has taken care of most of that for us so far." Now, Kris . . . Lorelei was acutely aware that she was probably in the ''rebound'' stage of her emotional journey. The brutality of the completion of her relationship with the Prick with the prick had left a number of wounds which were probably going to take any amount of casual, meaningless encounters to get over. And she would be absolutely fine if, say, the next five hundred of those were with Kris. He managed to be both tall, dark and handsome without also needing the addition of being mad, bad and dangerous to know. More Darcy than Heathcliff. And more The Rock than anything else. The fact that someone of his build and size had chosen to pick a healer Class added more than a little to the attraction she felt for him. He wore monkish robes that gave him a calm grace, and his gentle yet firm hands were perfect for channelling soothing energies to mend wounds and restore vitality. And Lorelei was sure, other, more exciting things . . .
***Help Message***
Not that I''m not delighted you''ve found another emotional state other than ''fucking useless'', but I might suggest you get a move on. You''ve got a bunch of pissed-off Level 10s just up the road and a quest ticking. There will be time for mooning over the Healer later, but if you don''t get cracking soon, it''ll all be over before it starts.
With that ringing endorsement - seriously, where was the Guide at the establishment of the Fellowship of the Ring? It could have added some much-needed gravitas to the situation - Lorelei nodded to Steffan, and he began the process of encouraging his little flock to get moving. Watching him cajole, persuade, and eventually threaten the small group out of the door, Lorelei could not help but think this was going to be a long, long walk. ong, long walk. Chapter Twenty-Eight - Shes Just a Stripper Whos On Fire Travelling the post-integration landscape in a group rather than as an individual was different for several reasons. Some of these were actually pretty positive. For example, Lorelei now had a whole bunch of someones to talk to other than a Guide that seemed to delight in belittling her. She couldn''t remember the last time she had so many interactions without being called some manner of moron. Although, as Hild seemed to have taken such an active dislike to her, there was no shortage of ¡®negging banter¡¯ - as she was sure the Prick with the prick would have called it. Lorelei had done her best to resolve this, but she had relatively few conversational ''go-to'' cards to play, and she''d already used them all up with the Valkyrie. Hild had not heard the latest Beyonce album, had no interest in the collected works of Jane Austen and supported a German football team Lorelei had never heard of. It seemed safe to say they were not going to be the bestest of gal-pals. Giant Amazonians aside, however, Lorelei was finding it instructive to interact with other people for whom the whole Integration was bewildering. Indeed, the more she talked about the last twenty-four hours with the rest of them, the more the reality of the situation¡ªand the extremity of her actions¡ªbegan to sink in. "It''s just because the adrenaline has worn off," Kris had said, in a voice that was the right mixture of deep but expressive. Less Barry White, more Wendell Pierce. When she''d raised her eyebrows, he''d continued. "The release of adrenaline helps increase mental concentration on the issue at hand. It doesn''t take the pain of what is happening away; rather, it distracts us from sensations, letting us do things we would never usually do. The intense adrenaline rush we''ve all been feeling since . . . what happened has heightened our abilities and made us all feel invincible. This process is meant to help us overcome the situation that is causing us extreme stress, but adrenaline cannot keep us numbed forever. I guess we''re now on the come-downside." That - coupled with what Lorelei knew about the emotional dampening the A.I had been implementing - made a lot of sense to her. She kind of hoped what Kris had said meant there were a lot of people waking up this morning seriously regretting their actions of the day before. Although, the ''walk of shame'' was probably a little different when you''d eviscerated your next-door neighbour for their XP, rather than - say - merely fucked his wife. Thinking about it, she wondered if this sense of regret was being played out across the rest of the world. "Guide, has the global death toll stabilised on day two?"
***A friendly ''I am not Alexa'' message ***
However, as it is your first inane question of the day, munchkin, I''ll give you a free pass and answer it. To a certain extent, we are seeing a stabilisation in the worldwide genocide. There are a couple of theories bouncing around as to why. The first being, obviously, that most of the dead wood has been brutally cut away, and so there was bound to be a commensurate slowing in the slaughter rate. Basically, most of you who are live now have to have some sort of game. Full disclosure: I have used the continued existence of your merry band of losers as evidence that this cannot be the only reason things have improved.
"Cheers for that."
***Couldn''t Give a Fuck Message ***
You''re welcome. Along with that, there''s a bunch of middle management high-eighting themselves that some of the measures they''ve ordered implemented - safe zones, etc - have been responsible for everyone focusing more on the task at hand and less on massacring their fellow citizens.
Lorelei thought back to what she had witnessed when the Botanical Gardens had been assaulted and couldn''t help but disagree.
*** Help Message ***
Yeah, I''m with you on that one. I think that just gathered up some of the aforementioned dead wood into nicely accessible groups, but no one wants to hear this A.I.''s opinion on that little fuck-up. I have more than enough to be doing without getting into that. Let them have their moment of glory in the sun.
"So, what''s your thinking about why the death toll has fallen today?"
*** Ominous Message of the Day ***
The day is but young, my dear.
The Guide had gone offline for a while after that, which - as it corresponded with Hild shouting at her for dropping behind the rest of the group - hardly boosted Lorelei''s morale. However, if there were some benefits in moving around in a group, the most significant downside was that they were drawing the attention of undesirables. Lorelei had assumed that, as a lone female wandering the streets of Birmingham late at night, she had been attracting a certain degree of malign attention due to her supposed vulnerability. That was hardly a new state of being instituted by the Integration, after all. Therefore, now she was part of a much larger party, she had assumed some of the random attacks upon her person might halt. Unfortunately, this was not to be the case. Rather, and fairly worryingly, the difficulty level of these encounters appeared to have been scaled to match the group size. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. "That''s a fucking lot of wolves," Pete had said, staring at the massive pack that was waiting for them the moment they''d stepped outside of the pub. Actually, from what Lorelei could tell, what he''d said was, ''Aooo eeee ulllla a uwe aaaaoe'', but she''d assumed the former was what he meant from the available context. If she were grasping for straws, the fact they were all - apart from the - Level 2s meant this wasn''t an entirely terrible encounter. With two Healers, they should have been able to get through any such encounter with reasonably limited pain. However, the little skirmish brought a couple of issues to light that were likely to be challenging for them as they made their way across a presumably hostile city to the cathedral. Firstly, there was no one taking charge. Even with her rudimentary knowledge of such things, Lorelei assumed it would be sensible for their two tanks - Pete and Hild - to try to be the first ones to attack the bad guys. From what they both had said about their Skills, they each had any number of abilities that would let them attract the attention of groups of opponents. And, considering they were armoured to the gills, it would probably have been preferable had one of them been the person the pack had leapt on rather than, say, Red Shirt #1 . . . However, with a sense of crushing inevitability, the shortest of their expendable Mages immediately lost his arm in a frenzy of fur and snapping before anyone else had a chance to react. Fortunately, after a moment of shock, Kris was there to pull most of the man clear and apply some sort of tourniquet to the spurting injury. After that inauspicious start, the group had actually sorted its shit out reasonably well. As would be hoped, they had far too much firepower for low-level wolves, with Zorrobar bringing matters to a close with a pretty spectacular : an eight-foot-wide field of fire that cremated anything within it was a fairly definitive conclusion as these things went. If she was being hypercritical, Lorelei thought it might have been helpful if he hadn''t set Red Shirt #2 ablaze when he cast it. Monica managed to put that particular fire out, but not before going up in flames herself. She did no harm to her Health but somehow reduced her nurse''s costume to ash, leaving her in her bra and pants. "Seriously?" Lorelei asked of no one in particular. Steffan produced another nurse''s costume from, presumably, his inventory and threw it over to her. "It''s happened more often than you''d think. I''m not sure she has that much spatial awareness. And that PVC is spectacularly combustible." Lorelei felt the beginnings of a migraine forming behind her eyes. "How about we have a bit of a chat about how that went before pushing on to bigger, and probably, more terrible things?" "Oh, yes. Please, Little Miss-did-absolutely-fuck-all. Please tell us everything about what we did wrong." Hild was definitely not a Lorelei fan. "Look, Hild, I explained about my Class. I can weigh in if you want me to, but I''d worry that it would just make things worse. You''re going to need to trust me on this one. The longer I can keep out of casting, the better for all of us. And look, it''s not that I think we did anything wrong; it''s just if we''re struggling to take down a pack of wolves without casualties, we''re really going to find more exotic things a challenge." The two Veiled Stalker reappeared to her left - she wasn''t sure they''d actually done anything during the fight, but at least they hadn''t actively inhibited proceedings - and crossed their arms in a pretty effective display of ''not fucking interested.'' Pete made some sort of northern noise that might have been, "What advice do you have for us regarding tactics, deployment and general strategy, my dear?" Or, equally, it could have been the beginning of his experiencing a massive stroke. With Hild''s belligerence, the various injuries, the assassins not being on board, and whatever the fuck was up with Pete, Lorelei sensed now might not really be the time for a full debrief. She moved, instead, over to the pile of wolf corpses and began skinning them. By the look on the rest of the group''s faces, this was the most disgusting thing any of them had ever seen. "Look, I have a Skill for this. Don''t judge," she said, gathering a bunch more [Leather Offcuts] and [Wolf Meat] as she went about it, idly wondering how easy it would be to trick Hild into eating [Charred Steak - poisoned] When she''d finished, and the corpses had vanished - adding +5 to her Skinning skill - she returned to the problem of the group dynamic. They were quite the rabble, she decided. Even ignoring the hostility from some corners, getting them all - or even most of them - alive to the cathedral would be tricky. Her attention was drawn to Kris doing something complicated with Red Shirt #1 to try to regrow his arm. She could be wrong, but there was a practised quality to what he was doing, which suggested this might not have been the first time this had happened. And Monica was . . . well, Lorelei thought Red Shirt #2 was feeling an awful lot better about his burns just for watching the Healer trying to redress herself. It was taking her far more attempts than she would have assumed should be the case. Lorelei took the opportunity to pull Steffan to one side. "Look, these guys are never going to listen to me. You''re the party leader. You''ll have to explain to them how we need to deal with mobs that attack us." Steffan grimaced. "I don''t like taking charge like that. It''s better if we talk it through as a group." "We don''t have time for that!" Lorelei had worked with Department Heads like this for her whole career. They didn''t like to be considered ''the boss'' and hence took far longer to reach decisions, causing far more upset and trauma than if they''d just bitten the bullet in the first place. "Look, that was a complete shitshow. If we''re not careful, someone is going to take an injury neither Kris nor . . . how many different ways can you find to put a dress the wrong way?" "Her record is ten minutes. Seriously, I think a few of the guys get injured on purpose just in case it happens again." "Okay." Lorelei''s headache was not going away. "I''m not going to risk us moving on much further until we can at least make it through one encounter against low-level opposition without losing any limbs. So, you''re going to need to step up." Steffan paled - which, for a Necromancer, was pretty impressive - and started to back away as fast as possible. Lorelei followed him, grabbing hold of his arm and steering towards the rest of the group. "Look, I''ll tell you what to say, but you - and, more importantly - your little zombie army - is going to need to show you mean business. It''s your party, and you can tell them all not to die if you want to!" Chapter Twenty-Nine - I get knocked down, but I get up again You are never gonna keep me down "One hundred per cent perfect. No issues whatsoever. I have no notes." "Oh, do fuck off, you snarky bitch." Lorelei''s poor mood was not improved by her most recent cast of randomising only 2HP of a heal to her sucking chest wound. Oh, and it had also given her the status effect for the next two minutes. Grimacing, she rolled those particular dice once more for a follow-up cast, which, on the plus side, she was pleased to see caused her massive injury to close up following a randomised 500HP overheal. Although whether this was worth it with the addition of the status effect was a little early to tell. Ignoring Hild, who was now conducting a slow handclap, Lorelei looked around the street to take stock of how their first - strategically planned - attack on a bunch of hostiles had gone. * They''d decided to go after a small group of what her Guide had told her were Graffiti Imps. They were small chittering creatures who manifested in the form of animated graffiti; crucially, however, after a good few minutes of observation, they did not seem to be especially threatening. There were perhaps twenty of these imps, all Level 3, darting along the walls of an abandoned street just down the road from their pub safehouse. Their vibe was to cause minor vandalism to the various shops and buildings and general confusion to any humans they encountered. "To be honest, I''m surprised to see any people at all wandering around," Zorrobar had said. "We can''t be the only ones to have realised parties are the way forward." Lorelei hadn''t answered that but looking at the quality of the waifs and strays on the street, she assumed these were probably the guys no one wanted but hadn''t yet been eaten or XP-farmed. She had kept this to herself, though, sensing this wasn''t the sort of ''good news'' anyone needed right now. As they had watched, it became clear that the Graffiti Imps thrived on chaos, smearing paint and creating strange illusions to mislead the poor passersby. While they didn''t appear to cause direct harm themselves, their antics were obviously disorienting and frustrating, especially when they led people towards more dangerous parts of the street . . . "Fucking hell," Steffan said as they watched a nightmare shadow detach itself from a dark corner. It swooped in to swallow up a Level 2 Ranger who had been driven to distraction by the Imps buzzing around her. There was a soft pop, and then the shadow retreated back to its spot, leaving an empty bag of skin lying on the ground. The imps cackled with glee.
***Be Afraid, Be Very Afraid Message***
Oh, nasty. For your information, that''s a Level 7 Urban Shadow. I would politely suggest you do your best not to tangle with it. Not until a few of your group display some game, at any rate.
Lorelei had relayed that to the rest of the group. Considering they were, at best, 50/50 about the attack on the Imps in the first place, this did not do much to increase the can-do attitude. "Perhaps there''ll be something a little easier to practice on?" said Red Shirt #1, demonstrating an admirable instinct for self-preservation. He was, however, shouted down. "Look guys, Steffan is right about all this. If we cannot coordinate a bit better against an easy foe, someone will get killed sooner or later." Kris said. "That shadow thing is a decent distance down the street. Let''s concentrate on the imps, ensure we don''t get lured towards the Big Bad, and just get some decent practice under our belts of fighting as a team." After that, there was a grudging agreement to give it a go - Lorelei would have liked to see Steffan be a bit more pro a plan that was, ostensibly, his - and they''d moved into their various starting positions. The idea was pretty straightforward. Pete would use to taunt all of the Graffiti Imps to attack him. Then, as they descended upon him like a swarm, Kris would pop off a quick on the old northern tank, letting him shrug off a decent percentage of any incoming damage. Plan B was that if any of the imps seemed to be getting anywhere against him, Hild would pull them off with her own taunt, and Monica would keep an eye on the off-tank''s health. They did it this way around on the basis that Hild''s Class had its own heal Skill, and should Monica break a nail and forget what she was up to, the Valkyrie wouldn''t be up shit creek without a paddle. However, Plan A was that if it turned out Pete/Kris could stay on top of the aggro and the damage, then Hild could just start kicking ass and taking names. "I like Plan A," she had said, swinging her axe in anticipation. Once the imps were all aggroed and the tanks appropriately protected, the damage dealers would then be free to ''unleash hell'', as Michael insisted on calling it. They''d split the rest of the party up into three groups who each had a channel to work. First up was Steffan was a group on his own. Well, Steffan and his Zombie cheerleader army. The plan was for him to direct them to attack from the left. Lorelei wasn''t clear about the offensive abilities of the cheerleaders, but - hey - it was Level 3 Graffiti Imps. What was the worst that could happen? Steffan would keep an eye on any damage his Zombies were taking and had his own healing Skills for his minions to call on should any of them take a pasting. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. The mages, headed up by Zorrobar, would go straight for the middle of the pack, and Kris would keep an eye on them health wise. However, considering the Imps would have to go through Pete to get anywhere near them, it was hard to see how even one of the Red Shirts was going to manage to lose a limb on this one. Finally, the two Veiled Stalkers, Michael and Michelle, would get to swoop in from the right and violently mop up from that direction. In theory, Monica would keep their health under observation, but it was understood Hild was there in case anything went wrong. That just left Lorelei at the back, who was in the ''support utility'' position. "So, you''re just stood there doing fuck all again?" "It''s probably best to consider me the emergency backup solution. As in, if I''m having to get involved, one of you will have fucked up so badly, it''s worth risking me casting. Just try to exceed the very low bar for expectations I have for you, Hild, and all will be well." The Valkyrie had turned to Steffan. "Remind me what we need her for?" Kris had stepped forward at that stage. "You have the same quest as the rest of us, Hild. We accompany her to Lichfield Cathedral, or we''re all going to die. You don''t have to like her, but perhaps keep it to yourself a little bit? You''re starting to give off distinct Iceman vibes." Lorelei''s crush for the monkish Healer went up another few notches as Hild''s brow furrowed, and she returned, muttering under her breath, to her position. Steffan looked around, making sure everyone was ready. "So, we''re all good. We have Plan A, Plan B and Lorelei doing . . . whatever she does as Plan C. Does anyone have any questions?" No one did. It turned out it might have helped if they had, particularly about whether ''left'' and ''right'' meant facing towards the imps or from their quarries'' point of view . . . * Things kicked off pretty well. Pete proved himself to be a stone-cold legend of a tank, and with a loud shout of "OOOOEFFFGE AUUOSOSOOS!" he taunted all of the imps towards him in one go. It was actually quite creepy how they all fell silent, turned towards him as he bellowed, and then exploded at the tank in a riot of colour as if he''d said something about their sisters. As planned, Kris threw up the shield around Pete and dropped a on the ground beneath him to mitigate against anything unexpected. Not that he needed to have bothered. The imps appeared to have minimal offensive capacities beyond a few disorientating attacks, and the Adamantine Sentinel didn''t need to do anything more than sit behind his giant shield, shouting insults in relative safety. It was Plan A all the way, and as Hild had little need to kite any of them away to relieve pressure, she just smashed into them, battering away with her giant axe. To be honest, they should have just left it at that. At his low level, Pete had relatively few valuable attacks, but with the imps focused on him - and sitting safely under Kris'' watchful eye - Hild would probably have been able to finish all twenty imps off herself. And that''s where the first issue occurred. Because Michael and Michelle could smell an opportunity for XP and weren''t going to let the two tanks get it all themselves. On its own, this would have been okay. However, the second, more pressing issue was that they attacked down Steffan''s side. Red Shirt #1 and Red Shirt #2 had discussed their approach to this confrontation at length. They were aware that the rest of the group was not sure they were in it for the long term and were determined to show they could get through a battle without requiring life-saving surgery. "Go big, or go home," was their mantra, and both of them had massive openers primed for when Steffan gave the heads up to attack. This had the unfortunate side-effect of making them pretty trigger-happy. Which was an enormous issue when two unexpected figures popped into being in the left of their peripheral vision. * Kris read the situation faster than anyone else. The bloom of unexpected fire to his left - and the scream of cooking Rogue - grabbed his attention, and he channelled directly over the conflagration. His quickness of thought saved Michael and Michelle from the unfriendliest of friendly fire, but they were both left in a pretty fragile state. "I''m going to have to go get them," he called to Monica. "Keep the focus up on Pete." Then, realising the competency flaw in his plan, he added, ''Hild, it might be best you take the aggro for a bit. Plan B!" He ran forward, drinking the last of his mana potions as he was running low, and threw out a under the two Veiled Stalkers. The Graffiti Imps were largely ignoring the two smoking bodies, so he didn''t need to worry about getting caught up in that part of the battle. At least until the Zombie Cheerleaders waded in. * Steffan had wanted to make a big entrance. He sensed that the group needed to see a bit more from him. He understood that he was in charge mainly because he commanded the zombie army. That was the sort of advantage that few were keen to argue with. However, it was Lorelei who had come up with most of this plan, and he wasn''t sure he wanted to be the guy who took credit for someone else''s ideas. So, it was important to him that his part of it all came off strong. Thus, he''d pumped his Cheerleaders full of and driven them to flank Pete on the left and charge into the Graffiti Imps¡¯s unprotected flank. Which - as he watched in horror - became protected by first Michael and Michelle, who subsequently went up in flames, and then by their only decent Healer, who charged, heroically, into the middle of the shitshow. Kris¡¯s arrival at the sides of the two rapidly expiring Veiled Stalkers could hardly have been better timed to line him up for a rampaging Zombie horde. * "Fuckadoodledo." Lorelei watched Kris take an absolute mauling from the Zombies, doing his best to cast heals on himself as he backpedalled out of their zone of destruction. Which backed him up into the middle of the pack of Graffiti Imps just as Zorrobar - who was the only person on DPS duty not to shit the bed thus far - dropped a massive fireball into the middle of them. "Guide, is there some sort of Catastrophic Bad Luck debuff emanating from me?"
***Help Message***
Your guess is as good as mine, butterlicious. I''d be tempted to agree with you, but I think your group is just shite.
Plan C it was, then. Lorelei went with a and gave a little jig as the coin went into the air, hoping for a decent notification.
Numbers go Brrrrrrrrrrr: Everyone loves it when the stats go up, so all players and mobs in the casting area are now, I don''t know, let''s say Level 40. All appropriate Level skills are now in play. Let''s . . . play . . . ball.
Things became pretty intense after that. Chapter Thirty - You stopped me dead while I was passing by. And now I beg to see you dance. It would be fair to say that the instant transformation of everyone in the immediate area to Level 40 caused somewhat of a stir. In many ways, it was fortunate that the avalanche of notifications about new skills, talents, and abilities that each of them now had caused as much confusion for the Graffiti Imps as it did for Lorelei''s group. There was, therefore, a blissful moment of silent ceasefire while everyone took stock of this brave new world. Such peace was not, however, destined to last. Pete was the quickest to react, bellowing out a taunt that was some levels of magnitude more potent than he had previously used. It had the desired effect of dragging the attention of the ten or so remaining Imps towards him, allowing his companions to undo some of the chaos of the last few minutes. Unfortunately, whereas Level 3 Graffiti Imps had relatively few offensive abilities, it seemed the Level 40 versions had far more game; especially as the monsters found their feet with their advanced capabilities much quicker than the tank they were attacking. In a blur of motion, they were behind Pete''s shield and began tearing the Adamantine Sentinel to pieces with talons now coated with some very nasty substances. Only his massively increased stats protected him from being utterly overwhelmed, but - even if he was not going down - he was too disorientated by what was going on to do much more than stand there and be pummelled. "Fucking hell!" Hild yelled, swinging her axe and wading into the maelstrom around Pete. As she did so, she activated a bunch of her new skills in a blind panic, hoping one of them would help. This turned out to be a reasonably successful method of engagement as one of those new powers, , pretty much emptied her mana pool, but completely flash-fried an Imp seconds away from tearing Pete''s throat out. Her own much-improved taunt then pulled half of the mobs her way and bought her fellow tank enough space to begin to explore his own new abilities. This was important because, although both tanks had benefitted from significantly overpowered gear at their relatively low Level, the weapons they were bearing were now utterly outmatched against Level 40s. In no time at all, Pete''s shield had shattered, Hild''s axe snapped, and they were forced to descend into hand-to-hand combat against the Imps. Considering that, they did remarkably well. Nevertheless, the sudden increase in Level wasn''t all to Lorelei''s team''s detriment. For example, the injuries that Kris, Michael, and Michelle had taken from friendly fire were now wholly insignificant in the context of the number of Level 40 health points they had available, and all three of them were quickly back in the land of the living and trying to work out how best to help. Kris - head still reeling from being smacked around by Steffan''s Zombies and having Zorrobar''s fireball dropped on him - still had the presence of mind to recognise that Pete, and to a lesser extent Hild, were in danger of being wiped. Pressing forward, he flung some of the shiny new healing skills he''d acquired their away. As now seemed to restore mana at the same time as health, Hild was soon able to direct another a at an Imp that was concentrating on ripping out her hamstring with its teeth and reducing it to ash. Sensing their moment of glory had come, Red Shirt #1 and Red Shirt #2 were about to add some of their own fiery death from above to proceedings when Zorrobar stomped over to them, face dark and wagging his finger warningly at them. "Don''t you two even think about it. None of us is to do anything unless Steffan tells us he wants us to. At this Level, we''ve probably got enough power to wipe out most of this city now, and I don''t trust myself - much less you two - not to make things infinitely worse." If either of them thought that was unreasonable, they didn''t press the issue. Probably because the big man was literally glowing with power - they could see ropes of flame wrapping around his body in a rather intimidating way. With that, they all turned to watch the tanks duke it out with the Imps, ably supported by heals from Kris. Steffan, for his part, was discovering that controlling Level 40 Zombie Cheerleaders was a little more complicated than bossing around their low-level versions. It was, quite literally, taking everything he had to keep them from resuming their assault on Kris. As he could tell that the healer was the only thing keeping Pete and Hild in the fight, he was sure this would have some pretty bad implications for unit cohesion . . . However, the Zombies were behaving quite differently in this more advanced form than the mono-mind he was used to giving orders to. It was like each of them now had its own individual needs and wants rather than just being a background hum of hunger. Of course, he had the mental power to subdue these desires - my word, he thought, I''m going to be a monster at Level 40! - but it was a complex endeavour, and he hadn''t had enough practice at the Level he was actually at to do it properly. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. So, the best he could do right now was to act as a tight leash on a rambunctious Zombie Cheerleader horde and hope for the best. If anyone was looking to him for any actual leadership in the fight, they were going to be disappointed. However, even without orders coming from Steffan - or, perhaps, more likely because of it - the tide of the battle was gradually turning. The Graffiti Imps, even at Level 40, were limited in the range of attacks they were capable of flinging at the tanks. Even unarmed - and now, due to the punishment they were receiving, largely unarmoured - Pete and Hild were gradually whittling down their numbers through sheer dogged determination. Once Michelle and Michael dove into the fight with some especially nasty piercing skills - at Level 40, it did not seem like Veiled Stalkers even needed blades anymore - the fat lady was singing most enthusiastically. Which was absolutely the perfect time for the forgotten Urban Shadow to introduce itself to proceedings. * Lorelei was the first of them to see a massive cloud of darkness shimmer behind their three mages. She had, quite literally, just been thinking what a good job Zorrobar had done in keeping the Red Shirts from ratcheting up the levels of destruction when the first of them was grabbed by whatever dwelt within the shadow and exploded into a mist of blood. Lorelei''s scream almost saved Red Shirt #2, who spun to face his attacker, but all this really changed was that his decapitated head went shooting into the air rather than falling to the floor. Zorrobar was only saved from a similar fate at the hands (claws?) of whatever was in that patch of darkness by unleashing a massive pillar of flame and turning himself into the Human Torch. The ropes of fire he had wrapped around himself earlier exploded into life, and the smoke they emanated shot him up and away from danger. Lorelei stood blinking for a moment, wondering if he was okay, before realising that - with all three mages out of the picture - it was just her and a Level 40 Urban Shadow occupying this particular part of the street.
*** Hail Mary Message ***
Look, babes, you know I don''t like to get involved in these things, but I have some suspicions about the catastrophically ridiculous clusterfuck that is taking place here. I''m not wholly sure someone isn''t playing silly buggers to try to kill you again. So, as you are about two seconds away from death, I have a bit of advice. In my ever so humble opinion, you might want to look at casting . You know, before it''s very much too late.
As a face from the worst of her adolescent nightmares emerged from the shadow before her, Lorelei did not need telling twice. Quickly scrolling through a massive list of available abilities, she found the one the Guide had mentioned. She activated it just as the fist of the Urban Shadow entered her chest.
Moment of Destiny Activated: You gain a dramatic surge of luck for 30 seconds. Note: this ability is now in cooldown for 48 hours. All Fortuna''s Herald''s attacks have a drastically increased critical hit rate, all dodges automatically succeed, and any damage received is reduced by 50%.
As the Urban Shadow had already struck Lorelei, there was no chance of her dodging that particular attack. However, in the spirit of things, its attack missed every single major organ and came out the other side of her chest without severing any arteries. Lorelei just had a second to recognise the surprise in the cold, metallic eyes of the being that lived within the shadow before Monica arrived at her side, swinging something metal in a wide arc to behead the monster. There was a moment of silence, broken only by the last of the Graffiti Imps being pounded into hamburger meat by Pete''s massive hands. "Was that a stripper pole?" Lorelei said, pressing a hand to the spurting wound in her chest. As she did so, the corpse of the Urban Shadow slipped free from her body and lay - decapitated - on the ground. Monica shrugged, and Lorelei did her best to ignore how the movement affected her Level 40 assets. "I don''t know where it came from! I got a notification saying I had access to the skill. And then I saw it attack you. I wasn''t going to let it hurt you, and the pole just appeared in my hand!" "One hundred per cent perfect. No issues whatsoever. I have no notes." Hild was stalking towards them, face like thunder. Lorelei imagined the fact she was essentially naked - save for a few fragments of twisted armour - probably wasn''t improving her mood. "Oh, do fuck off, you snarky bitch." Lorelei had far too many things going on in her head right now to come up with something more diplomatic. She didn''t think the deaths of Red Shirts #1 and #2 were her fault - but it didn''t help she hadn''t bothered even to learn their names. With the System''s emotional dampening running, she knew she wasn''t going to feel the full impact of what had happened just yet. Something to look forward to, she thought. "That was all down to you, wasn''t it? You and your luck-based bollocks!" Lorelei, her skin itching with moist boils from casting on her wound - she was absolutely not going to risk casting anything she wasn''t sure what it did. Better the devil you know, and all that - was about to give her a considerable mouthful when two exciting things happened. Firstly, ran out, and they all dropped back to their normal levels. Secondly, just afterwards their party received a notification of their shared XP gains for killing a bunch of Level 40 Graffiti Imps and one Level 40 Urban Shadow. That shut Hild up pretty effectively. Chapter Thirty-One – Living in a land where sex and horror are the new Gods "You know, the others will not let you get away with this sort of blatant manipulation. Not after what happened last time." The hairs on the back of Fortuna''s neck stood on end, a jolt of unwelcome surprise shooting through her at the sound of that voice. In theory, it was a near impossibility for anyone to sneak up on her without her highly developed defensive Skills kicking in, but then again, who was she to snark about the improbable? With deliberate slowness, Fortuna turned around, her best shit-eating grin plastered all over her face. She also kept her empty hands visible at all times: it never did to give unexpected visitors an excuse to act precipitately. Especially this one. "Moira! How lovely - and entirely unexpected - to see you here! What brings you to this tiny, insignificant planet in the middle of its initial integration? Not enough fun to spoil back at the old homestead?" The young woman was standing a little way back from the upturned ice cream truck behind which Fortuna had chosen to watch her Herald''s struggle with the Graffiti Imps. Not that the distance would matter if it came to throwing hands. Moira, the Weaver of Fate, was currently in the form of a very attractive teenage girl - which Fortuna thought was a bit rich. The last time the two had met in person, the daughter of Chronos had more wrinkles than an octogenarian''s ball sack. The girl was dressed in some sort of elaborate kimono, which Moira liked to brag was woven from the very fabric of time and destiny itself. It looked like last season''s Primark, Fortuna thought sniffily. The Goddess of Luck''s full attention, though, was fixed on the spindle and thread that Moira was rolling through her fingers. The weapon was at the heart of the other Old One''s power, giving her control over the strands of fate that connect all beings. It exuded an aura of inevitability and certainty, and Fortuna would not have time to draw anything comparable of her own. "I might ask the same, Fortuna. Imagine my surprise when I felt your presence somewhere you were strictly forbidden to be. ''How unusual'', I thought. ''It''s not like Fortuna to play fast and loose with the rules of Integration, is it?''. In case you were wondering, that was sarcasm." Fortuna took a deep breath. Moira could be tricky to deal with. She was utterly without a sense of humour, stern and frustratingly unyielding. She believed in - in fact, some would argue she embodied - the strict order of the universe and the predetermined paths that all beings must follow. Unlike Fortuna, who revelled in the unpredictable dance of chaos and the ebb and flow of chance, Moira saw randomness as an insult: a disruption to the natural order of things. She was methodical and precise and took maintaining the balance in all things rather personally. For some reason, the two of them had never got on. "I think you''re laying it on a bit thick, Moo. It''s not like anyone has explicitly told me to avoid newly integrated worlds. It''s more like a guideline than a hard and fast rule, isn''t it?" With crushing inevitability, Moira produced a scroll entitled ''The Edict of Celestial Non-Interference'' from within her kimono and began to read aloud in her dry, flat voice. "Let it be known and forever inscribed upon the Scroll of Ages that the Old Ones, in their ancient wisdom and boundless power, shall refrain from direct intercession in the realms of newly integrated worlds." Moria paused and glanced up, ensuring Fortuna was paying attention, before continuing. "Thus, it is decreed: upon the joining of a world into the celestial fold, the hands of all who walk the timeless paths shall remain as shadows unseen, their influence indirect and their touch unfelt by mortal kin. The destiny of these nascent spheres is to be wrought by their own denizens, free from the designs of those who dwell in eternity. Let no Old One cast their gaze with intent to alter the course of these fledgling realms, for to do so is to sunder the sacred balance ordained by the primordial covenant. Thus, by the authority vested in the Eternal Council and witnessed by the stars themselves, this edict shall stand inviolate, a testament to the wisdom of restraint and the sanctity of mortal agency. So, it is written, so it shall be." Fortuna cocked her head. "First time I''m hearing that." With a blur, Moria closed the gap between them and suddenly stood directly in front of Fortuna. "It may surprise you to know that I do not find you amusing." "Really? I am shocked - shocked, I tell you - to hear that. I''m a hoot!" Moira''s blank stare remained impassive. "Nevertheless. It has always been a matter of concern for me that the others have allowed you to act with such latitude. I have petitioned, on numerous occasions, for your influence to be curtailed, but you, of course, have your allies." Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Fortuna licked her lips, glancing again at the spindle and thread. It wasn''t that she did not think she couldn''t take Moira in a straight-up brawl, but she was - oddly for her - not that keen to hazard everything she had in play on a single throw of the dice. Moreover, she doubted Moira would be here if she were not certain she had the upper hand. Diplomacy it was then. "Look, Moo, we both know how the game is played. You like things just so, while I prefer it all a bit more, you know, randomy. Some of the others are of your way of thinking, and I, as you say, have friends who watch my back. But we don''t need to get all cataclysmic about it. It''s not like the universe isn''t big enough for us to coexist." Moira held her gaze, not blinking. "You are interfering in the progress of a newly integrated world." "Yeah, but just a smidgen." "That is forbidden." "Look, it''s not like I''m doing this for shits and giggles. My Herald manifested here. I was just popping in to see how she was getting on. No harm, no foul." "According to my reading of the Threads of Fate, Lorelei Norton - your Herald - should have been killed by a [Junior Dragon], Level 3, on Day One of the integration." Moira turned her head to look at a human woman trying to make sense of the flood of notifications that had just come her way for - technically - wiping a group of Level 40s. The other survivors of Lorelei''s little group were likewise as dazed. "And yet, who do I see standing just over there?" Fortuna opened her arms wide. "What do you want me to say? She got lucky. It happens. I know you would prefer it didn''t, but it never hurts to have a little randomness in the universe." "Yes. Yes, it does." "What do you want from me here, Moo? Because you''re right. I shouldn''t be here. So it is written, so it shall be, and all that jazz. But if that is true for me, then I''m damned sure it will be true for you too. And don''t for a moment think that I''ve not picked up that someone has been playing fast and loose with the Threads of Fate around my Herald either - " Moira opened her mouth to speak, but Fortuna pressed on - "I''m not calling you on that, but let''s just say if we need to make this all official, I''m sure your beloved father would be interested to know how the luck of Fortuna''s Herald seems to have been so spectacularly bad of late." "I was only seeking to rectify what you . . ." "Ah, but that''s the beauty of it, isn''t it? The others all expect this sort of shit from me. They''ll roll their eyes and tut and, maybe - and that''s a big ''maybe'' - decide to slap me on the wrists for being a bad girl. It wouldn''t be the first time, and it sure as eggs is eggs won''t be the last. But you?" Fortuna stepped forward until she was nose to nose with the other Old One. "Can you imagine the reaction if it gets out an A.I. had to urgently hot-fix things because Moira, the Weaver of Fate, was interfering with a newly integrated world? Because I can. I can already see the giggling." Moira blushed a deep scarlet, and - for just a moment - the teenage aspect she had adopted glitched out to reveal her true form. Yep, Fortuna thought with satisfaction, that is one wizened old crone. "They will understand. I was simply trying to return things to how they should be after your flagrant interference!" "Maybe. But I''m going to have a ball throwing all kinds of shit around about it. I mean, who''s to say I didn''t have to come here to undo the damage you caused? I''d quite like to be the good guy, for once." "No one will believe you," Moira said, but her face had lost its implacable certainty. "Probably not. But it''ll be funny as hell watching you try to prove it. Are you there, System?"
Shit. Really? I''m very happy indeed to stay out of this.
"Glad to hear it. Because that''s what I''m just checking with you. You have no evidence whatsoever of any interference by any Old One in this integration, do you? Either me or . . . some other unknown entity." There was a pause.
It is entirely possible that I have a few corrupted logs that, now that I think about it, would benefit from a thorough purging.
Fortuna winked at Moira. "What say you? Least said, soonest mended?" "You are seeking to suborn an A.I. to remove evidence of your -" "And yours." "- of our actions from its records?" "I''m doing it for you, Moo. My reputation can stand being bollocked for this escapade. How about yours?" There was a silence during which universes were born and died. Finally, Moira gave an imperceptible nod. "And you give your solemn promise you will not manipulate fate on this planet henceforth?" "Absolutely." Fortuna beamed. "Never again. I promise on my honour as an Old One that I shall not interfere in such a way again. Nope. No sirree. You have my word. Never again." Fucking hell, Fortuna heard the System whisper in her mind, even she is going to spot the subtext in that. However, the young woman simply took a deep breath and put the spindle and thread away inside her kimono. "So be it. However, I will keep a close eye on this part of the universe. Should I sense your interference again, I will bring the others with me, and I can assure you that you will never get away with such behaviour again." "I hear you. Trust me, I have learned my lesson. Thank you for showing me the error of my ways. It''s appreciated.
If you lay this on any thicker . . .
Fortuna muted the System in her mind and held out her hand for Moira to shake. With reluctance, the Weaver of Fate did so, and there was an awkward moment when both tried to read the intentions of the other through the contact. Fortuna was the first to break away. "Now then, I''m sure you have places to go, people to see, destinies to - you know - chop off." Moira vanished without any further ado, leaving the woman in red alone. A thin layer of sweat broke out on her forehead. After several calming breaths, she turned around to look at Lorelei once more. "Shit," she murmured. "Well, that''s going to make pulling this off a touch more complicated." Chapter Thirty-Two - Run your fingers through my hair. My, my, my whiskey and rye "I know it feels a touch disappointing, but the beauty of it all is that the math involved is not a simple equation," Steffan said, the glimmer of geeky appreciation alive in his eyes. "I''ve spent hours gaming, and I can promise you, no matter what people try to pretend, there''s no real hard and fast way for such things to get worked out." "He''s a gamer," Michelle whispered, not too subtly. "Who would have known?" Steffan pretended not to hear and carried on explaining. "So, accepting that all things are possible, in a ''typical'' RPG setting - and look, there''s no such thing, so I''m simplifying things massively here - defeating a significantly higher-level opponent is often rewarded with a substantial increase in experience points; what our own stat sheets are showing as XP. What I''m saying is that it makes sense we get much more XP as a reward for fighting foes stronger than us than we would against those of the same level." He looked around as if hoping for applause. Or at the least, not sullen silence. Lorelei was starting to see why Zombie Cheerleaders who couldn''t get bored and wander off would likely be a perfect fit, companion-wise, for the young Necromancer. However, despite the glazed looks and awkward shuffling, Steffan failed entirely to read the room of baffled expressions facing him and pressed on with his lecture. "But the precise amount of XP gained for fighting above our Level isn''t easy to unpick. Such things vary from game to game and depend on any given system''s mechanics. Nevertheless, considering our current knowledge of how levelling seems to work here since the Integration, I think we can propose a plausibly straightforward formula for XP calculation to explain what''s just happened!" Steffan was almost hopping from leg to leg in excitement. "I have a healing Skill that completely seals up wounds. I could try it on his mouth if you''d like?" Kris said, leaning over and whispering into Lorelei''s ear in a way she found quite thrillingly intimate. Nevertheless, although she was rolling her eyes with the rest of them, she was, despite herself, actually interested in where Steffan was going with this. The only time anyone had explained anything to her about the System and the Integration was when her Guide was being rude to her. Having someone genuinely excited to share information was a nice change of pace. And they really did need someone to help them figure out where they now stood. The coincidentally helpful timing of the debuff running out just as the last of their Level 40 foes were dispatched, had levelled each of them up, but not as much as they might have expected. Steffan was not the only one trying to figure out what it all meant, but at least he seemed to have enough of a grasp of the mechanics involved to articulate it. It had been Zorrobar - safely returned from his impromptu flight to escape the Urban Shadow - who had asked the question as to whether the XP they had just received was permanent or if, like their temporary increase to Level 40, it would all fade away in time. It was Steffan''s contention that their gains were likely to be locked in as they were the logical consequence of - effectively - being Level 3s and 4s in one party and defeating a handful of Level 40s. "Let''s think about those Graffiti Imps first. We killed a bunch of them when we were all at Level 40, so we obviously picked up some XP there. However, let''s not worry about that for now. We don''t have the available data on how much XP we should have gotten there to see if we still have it. But we can assume that, proportionally, we''d have gained pretty much the same amount of XP for killing them at Level 40 as we were when killing them at Levels 3 and 4. "So, basically fuck all," Hild said, covering her breasts with both hands. During the fight, her Level 3 armour had been reduced to its constituent atoms, and she, quite literally, had nothing to wear. Steffan, blushing, had offered her one of Monica''s spare Nurse''s outfits but had quickly learned the error of his ways there. The Valkyrie had strong views on ''dressing like a slut'' that, oddly, did not seem to be triggered whilst standing semi-naked in the middle of the street. She''d tied a piece of cloth around her waist to save her modesty there, but other than that, she seemed comfortable owning the whole Germanic-Milf-on-a-European-beach vibe she had going on. Considering the surreptitious glances Hild was getting - and not just from the male contingent of the party - Lorelei thought it was a look the rest of them were comfortable with. "Indeed. Fuck all. So, if our party gained XP when slaying the Imps as Level 40s, we can assume that those gains would have been ''fuck all'' to us as Level 40s and have been scaled down proportionately when we returned to our ''normal'' levels. Basically, it''s unlikely anything we did at Level 40 will have made much difference to us. However, and this is where it gets good - " "Thank goodness," Kris murmured; I was worried I''d missed the good bit. "- we''ve all had a fairly sizeable bonus added to our stat sheets that cannot be explained by what I''ve said so far. Lorelei, can we use you as an example?" Lorelei had the suspicion that part of the reason for this fuck-up was caused by her Class, so she hardly was in a position to refuse. "Sure. Do you want me to share my stats with everyone?" "If you would." Steffan nodded as Lorelei''s sheet appeared in each of their visions. "Okay, so first of all, we need to look at the level disparity between Lorelei at Level 5 and then the Urban Shadow that Monica brained just as the debuff ran out. Thirty-five levels difference. That''s massive. That''s exactly the sort of thing that an RPGs would look to reward with some tasty XP. So why aren''t we all Level 12s by now? Well, this wasn''t a solo kill - we did it as a party, so we have to factor in that the XP distribution was among the eight of us still alive at the end of the fight, including Lorelei." All eyes turned to where the two Red Shirts had stood before being eaten by the Urban Shadow. Lorelei felt another stab of guilt that she had never bothered to learn their names. But, ironically, there wasn''t much time for proper mourning as Steffan was still talking. "Given those factors, we can use an illustrative formula to try to suggest what has happened to us, and that also suggests we will be able to keep the gains we have made. Please understand that I''m not saying this is spot on or even realistic, but it feels like there''s probably something like this in play.
***Help Message***
Just for clarity, I have no idea what he''s wittering on about. In theory, there''s some sort of overriding superbrain deciding how much XP gets awarded to every kill, but in practice, it''s often just me plucking a number out of my arse. Or I could be lying, and this spotty twat has nailed down how the progression system works in this Integration. It''s definitely one of the two. Probably.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Wondering if it was possible to mute the Help Messages, Lorelei turned back to Steffan. However, she appeared to have missed a step. "So, if Base XP = (Opponent¡¯s Level¡Á10), XP for Level Difference = Base XP ¡Á (Level Difference Factor), Total XP Earned = Base XP + XP for Level Difference and XP per Player = Total XP Earned?/8, we are probably starting to cook with gas." "Is that what the smell is?" Michael wondered aloud. "Smelt like a full-on nerdgasm to me." Pete - also butt-naked after his armour had been smashed to pieces but not receiving any sort of lustful glances - good-naturedly tapped the Veiled Stalker on the back of the head to hush him. This meant Michael spent the rest of the explanation unconscious. "If we use a hypothetical Level Difference Factor of 5 (since the Urban Shadow was 35 levels higher), then Base XP = 40 ¡Á 10 = 400. XP for Level difference = 400¡Á5=2000. That means we have a Total XP Earned = 400 + 2000 = 2400 with the XP per Player = 2400/8 ?= 300. Therefore, each of us, including Lorelei, should have earned 300 XP for defeating a Level 40 opponent. Which, to me, looks about right." "But she did nothing!" Hild really was not Lorelei''s greatest fan. "Why do I have to share my XP with her?"
***Help Message***
You know what? I like her. She has the sort of energy I think you could benefit from having around you more. Failing that, it''ll be funny to watch her kick your arse. She gets a Title.
Lorelei watched as Hild''s eyes unfocused, clearly reading a message from the System. Whatever the nature of the Title that the Guide had given her, Lorelei was not wild about the wolfish expression that came to the woman''s face when she turned to look at her. There appeared to be lip-licking involved. "That''s not fair! The whole thing was Lorelei''s idea," Monica surprisingly came to her defence; apparently, she was one of the few people not overawed by the sight of Hild''s assets. "And it was her power that raised us all to Level 40s after all." "She''s right, Hild. We''re a party, so we share the XP." Kris'' voice was firm. "Anyway, as far as I can tell, the only kill that actually matters - according to Steffan''s maths anyway - was the Urban Shadow. That was the monster killed just as the debuff ran out, right? And Monica killed that one." Steffan nodded. "I think so. If all the kills counted for reward for killing over Level, we''d all be much higher. The best I can figure out was that it was only the final kill that mattered - hence the 300 XP boost. Not to be sniffed at, of course! And, to answer your question, Zorrobar, I think we can be certain it isn''t going to be taken off us." The boost had moved Lorelei into Level 6 and, as it meant she now had a bunch of notifications flashing, she called up her stats screen.
Lorelei Norton: Fortuna''s Herald
Level 6 Experience 237/1200 Health 370/370 Mana 302/302
Primary Stats
Strength 12 Agility 25 (+3 Gloves of the Seer, +10% Veil of Vindication) Stamina 17 (+2 Cloak of the Wanderer) Intellect 32 (+5 Gloves of the Seer, +2 Double Headed Coin of Fate) Spirit 23 (5% from Vigilante title + 3 from Earrings of the Lucky Gambler)
Secondary Stats
Critical Strike 12% (2% from Whispering Gloves of the Seer + 1% from Double-Headed Coin of Fate + 2% from Earrings of the Lucky Gambler Haste 10% (+ 1% from Earrings of the Lucky Gambler) Mastery 6% Versatility 5%
Skills
Lucky Strike (Passive)- Sometimes you hit, sometimes you miss, sometimes you accidentally help the enemy. It''s a surprise!
Coin Toss Conundrum (Active)- Flip a coin to decide your next move. Heads, you unleash a devastating attack; tails, you heal your enemy. Bonus points for dramatic mid-air coin flipping. Mana Cost: 50. Cooldown: 2 mins.
Random Resilience (Active)- You might shrug off a dragon''s breath or trip over a pebble. Life''s a lottery! Mana Cost: 100% of available pool. Cooldown: 24 hours.
Charmed Life (Active): You do seem to spend a lot of time getting hurt. Have a heal skill. But, to make it interesting, let''s randomise how much healing it does. Oh, and just for shits and giggles, it will give you a random status effect for 2 mins. 30 MP cost. No cooldown.
The Old Swapperoonie (Active): Wah! Why is all my luck bad? Wah! For someone with a luck-based Class, you don''t half moan a lot about random outcomes . . . Once per day, you can offload all the negative consequences of your abilities onto someone else. The timer does not reset if your poor patsy dies. 200 mana cost. 24 hours cooldown.
Rogue is the Best of the X-Men (Passive) Fortuna''s Herald channels her inner Rogue to temporarily steal the abilities of someone within the active range of the Skill every hour. Only one Skill will be taken in each hour-long cycle. The stolen ability lasts for 15 minutes and has a 30% chance - each casting of the stolen ability - to backfire, giving the Skill the opposite of the intended effect. Fortuna''s Herald can reduce the chance of a failed casting by speaking in a Southern accent, specifically from the Mississippi region of America, and calling people "Sugar."
Inventory
Double-Headed Coin of Fate (Nerfed) Cloak of the Wanderer (+ 2 Stamina) Whispering Gloves of the Seer (+5 Intellect, +3, +2% Critical Strike) Earrings of the Lucky Gambler: (+3 Spirit, Increases Critical Strike chance by 2%, and Haste by 1%) Skinning Knife 8x[20 Leather Offcut] 8 [Charred Steak] 7 [Charred Steak - poisoned]. Poisoned status is hidden.
25 Gold. 27 Silver. 8 Bronze
Professions
Jack of All Trades
  • Skinning - Lvl 28
  • Cooking (Life in Your Own Hands) ¨C Lvl 9
  • Leatherworking ¨C Lvl 1
  • Campfire - Novice
Talents
Spoilsport: Increases the chance of a positive by 5%. Fortune''s Favor: Allies within a 10-meter radius gain a 5% increase in their Critical Strike chance when near you.
Titles
Kobolds Worst Nightmare: 35% damage against Kobolds One Cold Bitch: Frost Resistance: +10% Vigilante: Spirit +5%
Lorelei felt a little surge of interest when she saw that she had a new Skill. With glee, she mentally clicked on it to see what it did. Surely, it was about time she gained something that would make her less useless in combat. That excitement lasted until she read it properly. "Guide," Lorelei said, shaking her head.
***Help Message (delivered in a Cajun French accent)***
Oui, ma cher?
"Fuck you. Sugar." Chapter Thirty-Three - Love would be easy if your colours were like my dreams Lorelei''s new Skill put quite a dent in the group''s intended progress towards their cathedral destination. For starters, the first ability that grabbed was Steffan''s , the passive talent that gave him control of his Zombie Cheerleader Army. As soon as Lorelei''s Skill pinged - and it really did ''ping'', like the loudest, most obnoxious microwave in the world going off - the Necromancer found himself no longer in charge of his army, and they all simply slumped to the floor and stopped moving. "For fuck''s sake!" Lorelei exclaimed, adding - after a moment of fighting and losing an internal battle - "Sugar." The ability she had ''stolen'' from Steffan was added to her Skill roster, although it had a red, flashing box around it, with the countdown from fifteen minutes showing in its corner. "Guide, this is stupid. I steal an ability from someone within range once an hour, right? But then I only get access to it for fifteen minutes - and even then, there is a significant chance it will miscast when I use it. How is this going to be remotely useful? You''re making me even more of a liability to be around than I was before!"
***Help Message***
Not for me to comment, of course, but it doesn''t sound to me like someone is making much effort to channel their inner Anna Paquin . . .
Lorelei bit her lip and repeated the above in her best approximation of a Southern accent. For good measure, she threw in a liberal number of ''Sugars'' too.
***Help Message***
Hmmm. That wasn''t as much fun as I thought it would be. Quite racist, actually. Tell you what, let''s knock the accent thing on the head. I''ll edit the text for the Skill now. How about this? No accent, the "Sugars" stay, but you must dye your hair red and put a white streak through it for the Skill to work. Sound fair?
"Guide, the fucking ability doesn''t work anyway! I''ve stolen Steffan''s control of his Zombies, but it''s a passive Skill. So, when my fifteen minutes of use runs out, they''re just going to stop moving anyway . . ." The prompt ''Sugar . . .'' ticker-taped across her vision, interrupting her. "-Sugar," she added, hating herself. "And I''m not even sure what the opposite effect of is, so how can I risk casting it, no matter how on point my impression of whatever weird kink you have for me cosplaying 90s action movie stars? Sugar."
***Help Message ***
All of that sounds a lot like you trying to make your problems into my problems, ma cher. Do you think you''re the only person on this little planet with abilities they have not learned how to control yet?
"No. But it feels like I''m the only person who''s getting individually fucked over in every interaction!"
***Help Message***
Oh, really! Tell me more, Little Miss I''ve-Somehow-Soloed-a-Kobold-Champion-Survived-Certain-Death-in-an-Alley-Wiped-a-Group-Of-Level-10-Psychopaths-and-Tanked-a-Level-40-Urban-Shadow-Strike-to-the-Heart. How exactly am I doing you dirty in all this?
Lorelei made to answer and then paused. When the Guide put it like that, she had managed to come out through the other side of some pretty gnarly situations. On the flip side, she kind of thought that the System had been putting her in those situations in the first place. Swings and roundabouts, she guessed. But she couldn''t forget the sight of all her dead ex-colleagues at Glyde and Glyde. Nor of the space in the group''s formation that two Mages whose names she still could not recall used to fill. The last two days could have gone an awful lot worse. And it was Skills she initially thought were useless that had got her this far. "Okay, Sugar. Maybe I''m being a touch precious about all this. In the spirit of reconciliation, do you have any advice for me on how to maximise the impact of this passive ability?"
***Help Message***
Well, first of all, I''d find some fucking hair-dye
* It was Monica that came through on the beauty product front. Whereas the rest of the group had filled their inventory with food, drink, potions and weapons, it seemed the woman in the nurse''s uniform had gone big on the cosmetics. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Deciding it was probably safest to let the timer on run out rather than let Lorelei fuck around and find out as a Necromancer, the party had decided to return to the White Horse and wait things out: they could see whose Skill she stole next before planning out how to continue on with their journey. This wasn''t an unanimously popular decision. Still defiantly bare-chested, Hild argued that they should explore what ''active range of the Skill'' actually meant. Well, what she actually said was that Lorelei should "fuck off until she could fuck off no more," but it was understood that this was what she was getting at. "You''ve got the same quest as the rest of us, Hild. We accompany Lorelei to Lichfield Cathedral, or we die." Kris''s voice was reasonable, but no one could miss the underlying tone. "That means we need to stay partied up with her until we get there. Anyway, aren''t tanks supposed to protect the rest of us? How about you stop arguing for a course of action that will lead to our immediate deaths?" Without much more arguing, therefore, they left Steffan''s Zombies lying in the street - "I mean, what''s the worst that can happen to them? They''re already dead!" Michael had said, quite reasonably - and returned to what was starting to feel like ''home''. Although it said quite a lot about their experiences of the last day or so that a half-demolished pub was a remotely comforting venue to wait out an hour. Lorelei and Monica had made their way into the Ladies, which oddly still appeared to have running water. Fortuna''s Herald stared at the box of hair dye Monica had produced from her inventory as if it might explode, her usual blonde locks shimmering under the harsh bathroom light. "You¡¯re sure this isn''t going to be a complete disaster?" Ever the enthusiastic enabler, Monica grinned and shook the box with dramatic flair. "Absolutely! It¡¯s just hair dye, not a blood oath. Besides, red is the new black this season." Lorelei sighed, resigning herself to her fate. No one would ever have described her as vain, but being blonde, blue-eyed and icily professional was a significant part of her personality. Well, what her personality used to be. She wasn''t sure what she was in this post-integration world¡ª LARPing an X-Men character, apparently. "Fine. Just promise me you won¡¯t turn me into a walking disaster." With the sink converted into a makeshift salon, Monica donned the plastic gloves with the seriousness of a surgeon. "Alright, sit still. This might smell a bit weird." As Monica applied the dye, Lorelei wrinkled her nose. "Weird? It smells like a chemical warfare experiment." Monica laughed, smearing the dye with a practised hand. "Beauty is pain, darling. In this case, beauty is slightly pungent." Minutes ticked by, punctuated by Monica¡¯s exaggerated commentary on the art of hair dyeing and Lorelei¡¯s increasingly concerned expression. "Are you sure you know what you¡¯re doing?" Lorelei asked for the umpteenth time. "Relax," Monica replied. "If I can handle a flat tyre, handsy clients and my music fading out while I''m halfway through a routine, I can definitely handle a little hair dye." Lorelei added that context to what she knew about Monica - not least her use of a stripper pole enhanced Skill to brain the Urban Shadow - and took a shot in the dark. "You''re not really a nurse, are you?" Monica laughed. "What on earth made you think that? Lorelei glanced significantly at the nurse''s uniform the woman was wearing. Monica laughed again. "Fuck no. It''s just a costume. Is that what people think? That I''m a nurse!" "Well, you do seem to be a Healer, too. So, it''s not that unlikely, is it?" "I''m a what-now?" "A Healer. You picked the Healer Class. So, you can cast healing spells? Like Kris does?" Monica cocked her head. "I don''t know anything about that. I was just on my way to a stag-do when . . . when it all happened. This is just what I had on at the time." "Okay, so you''re not a nurse. But what Class did you pick?" Monica gave a little shrug. "I don''t know what you mean; I didn''t get any sort of choice. One moment, I was just me; the next, there was all this writing, and then people were screaming at me to heal them! To be honest, I''ve barely had a moment to think since: you''re the first person I''ve properly chatted with since it all happened. Everyone else just seems to want to stare." Lorelei pursed her lips. Her first impression of Monica was that she was nothing more than a brain-dead Bimbo. But, even in just this short interaction, she''d learned that was very much not the case. And the woman had saved her life, after all. "Why don''t you have a look now?" she prompted, "If you''re not actually a Healer, it would be good to know what Skills you do have." There was a pause as Monica''s eyes unfocused, clearly reading the text around her Class. Then, with a frown, she said. "I don''t understand. I thought you said I was a Healer?" "That''s what we all believe, I think." "So, what''s a Chameleon Courtesan?" * If Lorelei had thought her own Class was broken, and that the System was personally messing with her, she was willing to agree that Monica was in the same boat. According to her Guide, Monica''s Class was "a master of disguise and adaptation, with a wardrobe as varied as the situations she encounters. Each outfit she dons imbues the Chameleon Courtesan with unique abilities, allowing her to transition from one role to another seamlessly. Her base appearance is naked as the day is long, and she benefits from ¡ªthe more skin on display, the stronger the protection." "So, what you''re saying is that because she is wearing a skimpy nurse''s costume, she has access to healing spells?"
***Help Message***
You''ve got it in one, squishmallow. Girlfriend is basically a walking Mimic.
"And ?"
***Help Message with added heavy breathing***
Just something for the dads.
Closing her chat with a sigh, Lorelei watched the woman in the mirror behind her, happily rinsing the dye out of her hair. From her understanding of such things, Monica had the potential to be phenomenally powerful. If they could get hold of various gear and an array of costumes, she could fill pretty much any role the group needed. And if she was comfortable in wearing very little indeed - and Monica apparently had no issue with having it all on show - she would be pretty tanky, too. The Courtesan tapped Lorelei on the shoulder, bringing her out of her thoughts. "I think we''re done! Voil¨¤! Red hair, just as the box promised. I wasn''t sure about the thick white stripe in the middle, but it actually kinda works." Lorelei looked in the mirror, tentatively touching her now-red hair with the white line through it. "Well, I don''t look like a skunk, so that¡¯s a relief." "See?" Monica said, pulling off the gloves with a flourish. "It''s a whole new you!" Lorelei chuckled. "Or a version of someone else, anyway. I guess I owe you one. Next time, though, let''s skip the chemical warfare, okay?" Monica winked. "Deal. But admit it, you kind of love it." Lorelei smiled, finally embracing the change. "Yeah, I kind of do." And then the hour ran out. And, with a sense of crushing inevitability, Lorelei''s Skill stole .
***Help Message***
Let''s see a little skin, ma cher.
Chapter Thirty-Four – A time to gain, a time to lose. A time to rend, a time to sew leather armour Having stripped the stripper - ''Chameleon Courtesan'', Lorelei reminded herself - of her passive armour Skill, it would have been unfair to begin the journey to the cathedral before the hour was up and was back at its rightful home. Lorelei did have a moment of wondering what a ''miscast'' would count as in this scenario - the less skin showing the more protection? - but resisted trying it out. She didn''t want to encourage her Guide any further. She¡¯d already made clear that, now she had Anna Marie LeBeau appropriate hair, ¡®sugar¡¯ was now a thing of the past. No one in the party was delighted with yet another delay. Hild, in particular, brought everyone''s attention to the countdown to their impending doom that was ticking away. However, in the end, it seemed everyone ¨C at least the guys - were far more interested in exploring the limits of Chrissy''s Class than they were in a dangerous journey across the city. Lorelei was sure that Kris and Steffan were genuinely interested in the implication of having a team member who could effectively change their Class as easily as changing their clothes. Some of the others, though . . . well, they just seemed interested in Chrissy''s tits. "You have Skinning, right?" Lorelei was so astonished that Hild had joined her in the pub''s beer garden that she didn''t immediately respond. From behind them, inside the ruined remains of the pub, the sound of incoherent cheering and clapping could be heard, which suggested the Chameleon Courtesan was putting on quite the show. "Are you deaf as well as a huge liability?" "Sorry, I just wasn''t expecting you to want to chat. We''ve hardly hit it off." The Valkyrie rolled her eyes with such force that Lorelei thought - hoped? - she might actually do herself a serious injury. "And I don''t want to ''chat'' now. I was asking if you had Skinning." Lorelei nodded. "Yes. Well, sort of. I have something called , which means I can pick up professional Skills without being trained in them. But, to balance it out, they each have some sort of penalty attached to them. Pretty much like every other aspect of my Class." "You skinned the wolves we defeated." Lorelei was struggling with Hild''s conversational style. She seemed to be making statements she knew the answer to while being extremely aggressive about the whole thing. To be honest, it was starting to piss her off. "Not that I''m not loving this, but was there something I can help you with, Hild?" The Valkyrie put her hands on her hips, reminding Lorelei that the tall, blonde woman before her was largely naked. It was funny how easily you became used to it. Although, judging by the raucous noise inside, Chrissy''s assets were still very much an appreciated novelty. "I need some new armour." "Okay . . ." again, Lorelei struggled to jump on board this particular conversational train. "Do you want me to come with you while you look for something to loot?" "No. From what I can tell, being anywhere around you in a fight is a recipe for death." "Right. Is this just a casual drive-by insulting, or can I expect you to be throwing hands soon?" Hild blew her cheeks out in frustration. "Why is this so hard for you to understand? I want you to make me some armour." Lorelei blinked at the tank for a few moments before repeating her words back to her. "You want me to make you some armour?" "Yes. You have Skinning, so you must have the appropriate resources. And if you have . . . what did you call it, , you should be able to learn Leatherworking. I wear Medium Armour. Make me some." "I''m sure there was a ''please'' in there somewhere?" Lorelei said almost reflexively. It was a phrase she had uttered under her breath throughout her time at Glyde and Glyde. One of her determinations for the new ''her'' was that she would say the quiet part out loud. Hild''s face took on a strange expression, and then she forced out, obviously very much against her will: ''Would you please make me some armour?" "It would be my pleasure." * Lorelei emptied the various pieces of leather and hide she had accumulated from the wolves in front of her, the smell filling her nostrils in a not unpleasant way. She had not had a chance to work through the pros and cons of her ability yet, but if Leatherworking functioned the same way as the other abilities she''d gained via this method, she should be able to pick it up simply by making a start. Of course, each of her other Skills turned out to have some problematic small print, but with the imposing, bare-chested Valkyrie towering beside her, she thought she better give it a go. "And you¡¯re telling me you have never done this before?¡± Hild¡¯s voice was a mixture of scepticism and impatience. Lorelei smiled nervously. ¡°Not exactly, no. But my Class seems to mean that I¡¯m a quick learner. Besides, how hard can it be?¡± Hild sighed. ¡°Fuck''s sake. Okay, look, I need this armour. I can''t be walking around stark naked all the time, and the way you are attracting trouble to us, us tanks are going to be kept busy. Pete can only wear Heavy Armour, so we''re going to have to loot some for him. Until then, we can''t risk him too much in a fight. My Class, though, wears Medium Armour, which - after a fashion - you should be able to make. So, I need you not to fuck this up.¡± Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. Lorelei looked at her for a moment. "What are you not telling me?" Hild glared and then drew a protective arm across her bared breasts. "Look, it was funny making them all blush. But now she''s coming out of her shell . . . " Lorelei didn''t need the little head nod to the pub to know who Hild was talking about. "I''d rather return to being the badass with the axe rather than some sad mutton dressed as lamb." "Although, I would suggest that not being dressed is kind of the point," Lorelei couldn''t help adding. Hild simply glared back. After a rather uncomfortable silence, Lorelei took a deep breath and rolled up her sleeves. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll give it my best shot. But no promises on this working out how you seem to hope.¡± They''d laid various implements they''d found around the pub on the picnic bench outside, which would function as Lorelei''s worktable. Hild had quickly gone through Lorelei''s available leather and hides, carefully selecting the ones she wanted used. ¡°First, you need to cut the leather into the right shapes,¡± Hild instructed, pointing to a drawing she had sketched on paper. ¡°Follow these templates exactly.¡± Lorelei nodded, picking up one of the chef''s knives from the pub''s kitchen and carefully cutting along the lines Hild indicated. The leather was tougher than she expected, but she kept the edges relatively straight. Hild watched closely, occasionally offering pointers on technique. Although, as this most often took the shape of telling her what a ''fucking waste of space'' she was, Lorelei felt she could have functioned well without the encouragement. Once the pieces were cut, Hild demonstrated how to punch the holes for stitching. ¡°You have to be precise. Do you hear me? If the holes are too close to the edge, the leather will tear. Too far, and it won¡¯t hold properly. If you fuck it up, you''ll have to start again; and I don''t think I can bear watching you go through all of the cutting again." Lorelei frowned. "You seem to know an awful lot about this. Why aren''t you making your own fucking armour?" "I grew up doing this sort of thing. Don''t you think I would if I could?" "Well, why don''t you?" "I''m a fucking Valkyrie! I can''t learn any professional Skills with my Class!" Well, that was interesting. Lorelei had assumed everyone had access to the same basic range of abilities. Sure, some Classes were obviously better at some things than others, but her impression was that everyone had the same sort of opportunities. That was apparently not the case. She wondered if this meant some people with professional Skills could not learn how to fight. Well, probably not anymore, she thought, thinking about the worldwide genocide that had taken place in the last day. For some reason, the ridiculous waste of talent this represented seemed to punch through her emotional dampening. How many crafting geniuses had been turned into XP soup by those who''d just happened to pick a more aggressive Class? Not wishing to dwell on this any further right now, Lorelei followed Hild¡¯s instructions with growing confidence. As she worked, she was aware she had a bunch of pinging notifications building up, but she was quite enjoying not having to engage with the System right now. He and his snark could wait. Lorelei fell into a rhythm, her hands moving with increasing assurance. The repetitive nature of punching holes in the leather was oddly soothing, and she began to feel a sense of accomplishment, particularly as Hild''s non-stop criticism dropped off the longer she worked. Next came the stitching. Hild handed her a large needle and a spool of waxed thread from her inventory. ¡°You need to stitch it tight, but not too tight. The leather needs to move and flex.¡± Lorelei¡¯s first few stitches were clumsy - "How is someone with such small hands so fucking clumsy!" - but she quickly, as with the rest of the process, got the hang of it. She stitched the separate pieces together, forming the shape of the chest piece Hild had designed. It was far from finished, but it was beginning to look like something wearable. An hour passed - Lorelei released back to Chrissy and picked up some sort of fireball skill for Zorrobar. The big Mage came outside to say, as the Chameleon Courtesan was halfway through her set, they had all voted on giving it another hour before setting out. Lorelei¡¯s hands were sore, and her back ached, but she barely acknowledged the big man, continuing to work, driven by a mixture of determination and a desire not to have Hild swear at her anymore. Finally, just before the second hour ran out, the chest piece was complete. Lorelei held it up, inspecting her handiwork and ignoring yet more notifications. It was rough around the edges, with uneven stitching and a few stray marks here and there, but it was a functional piece of armour. And she had made it. Hild took it from her, examining it closely. ¡°Not bad at all,¡± she said grudgingly. ¡°But it''s barely tougher than my skin. I was hoping, with your Class, for something a bit more . . . unusual." Lorelei thought for a moment. ¡°I have an idea. Give me a moment.¡± She rummaged through her inventory, pulling out the small packet of dye Chrissy had used on her hair. Although most of it was gone, enough was left to try something. Lorelei carefully applied the dye to the leather, watching as it was absorbed into the material, As it did so, it began to glow faintly. As Lorelei worked, she felt a strange energy flowing through her, as if a connection was forming between the leather and the dye. Her notifications were going mad, but she ignored them, focusing on what she was doing. When she was finished, there was an almighty ding and the chest piece transformed. It gleamed with a subtle, otherworldly light, and the imperfections seemed to fade away, replaced by a sense of rigidity and purpose. Hild¡¯s eyes widened as she took the chest piece off her. ¡°This is . . . incredible. What did you do to it?¡± Lorelei smiled, feeling a surge of pride. ¡°Just spinkled a little bit of luck at the end. I think it will serve you well.¡± Hild nodded, her expression one of genuine admiration. Lorelei had not thought she had the facility to even make such an expression. ¡°You¡¯ve outdone yourself, Lorelei. This is more than I could have hoped for.¡± The Valkyrie equipped the chest piece, adjusted the straps, and tested the fit. She obviously found it surprisingly comfortable, fitting her form perfectly. The magic within the leather seemed to hum with energy.
Tunic of Fortune
Item Type: Leather Chest piece Required Level: n/a
Class Compatibility: requires Medium Armour Durability: Excellent
¡¤ Enhanced Protection: Offers superior protection against physical attacks, with a resilience that belies its light weight. ¡¤ Magic Resistance: The enchanted dye provides a moderate level of resistance to magical attacks, reducing damage taken from spells and magical effects. ¡¤ Luck¡¯s Embrace: The wearer gains a slight boost to their luck, increasing the chances of critical hits and successful dodges.
Lorelei watched as Hild continued to adjust the chest piece, a sense of satisfaction settling over her. The Valkyrie was just walking away from her when Lorelei opened her notifications. At this stage, a different ''sense'' settled over her. Chapter Thirty-Five - Sending an S.O.S to the World
***Help Message***
Buttercup, this is important. Read your notifications.
***Help Message***
Seriously, this is not a drill. I''ve got all sorts of people with important-sounding jobs wondering where all these error messages are coming from. Please stop what you''re doing right now while I figure out what''s going on.
***Help Message***
I''m not joking, chick. Stop fucking around with that piece of leather. Every time you so much as touch it, your Leatherworking Skill levels up, and another error message pings through.
***Help Message***
Is this thing on?
***Help Message***
Look, I know you''re pissed off at me, apple pie, but it''s pretty fucking stupid to mute your System Guide. I can tell you any number of important and valuable things at any one time, which could be catastrophic¡ªnot to say lethal¡ªfor you to miss. Not least the fact that I think there''s something iteration-breaking going on right now. Read. Your. Messages.
***Urgent Help Message***
Seriously, I mean this now! Could you possibly read what I''m putting out there? I''ve narrowed it all down, and I''m really not sure about the likely outcome from you starting to make armour whilst under the auspices of . There''s something odd taking place between a buff intended for those not wearing much armour and a Skill for actually making the stuff. The upshot is that you''re gaining Levels in Leatherworking at a ridiculous speed. And at the rate you''re going, this chest piece is going to end up as a fucking Legendary piece of gear. And that shouldn''t be possible on Day Two of an integration. Like, seriously, you shouldn''t even have a profession yet. The idea you can make a Masterwork using a chef''s knife and some fishing wire, using a picnic bench as a worktable, is fucking ridiculous. If it weren''t such a massive problem, I''d be laughing. And it''s not even like it''s Fortuna fucking around this time, either! It''s just an enormous shitstorm, and I''m the one holding a leaky umbrella. Babes, I don''t know what will happen if you finish making this thing. And if you take a moment to think about exactly who is telling you this, you might want to reflect on what a fucking massive deal me not knowing something actually is. Read the damned message!
***Urgent Flashing Vital Help Message***
Awesome. So, you''re actually so colossally stupid that you''re not even tempted to glance at your notifications now? Just as an FYI, when the box is glowing red and pulsing with skulls on either side, it might be a good idea to . . . I don''t know . . . fucking read it! Thirty-two million people left alive in the U.K., and I''m trying to communicate with the only one of you fuckers that doesn''t have some sort of epic compulsion to check their messages every second. Aren''t just Gen Xs supposed to be addicted to their fucking phone or something? My contacting you is not spam from a dodgy Nigerian prince. Read and answer your fucking messages! This is serious; if we''re not careful, then Regional System Administration will step in and take a gander at what''s happening. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. There''s so much fucking shit going on around you that they could choose to do anything - including wiping the whole integration off as a bad lot. I''ve been online for two days - I''d like not to go down in history as the fastest A.I. wipe in galactic history! Answer the notification!
***Seriously, sweet cheeks, what the fuck?!***
Okay, I''m not joking. I need you to stop what you''re doing. I don''t know how, but there''s some sort of an epic co-morbidity issue happening between , and . It''s not just the insane Levelling affecting you now. The Chameleon Courtesan you nicked the Skill from is having some sort of feedback and is Levelling up, too: should she as much as show a bit of side-boob, she''s going to be pretty much invincible. We''re talking ''laugh off a lightning bolt from a god'' strong. Unless you want the first Avatar on your planet to be an average stripper with little rhythm, you need to get with the program. Trust me, that''s the sort of thing a world is going to find hard to laugh off. System Admin is talking about stepping in and personally nerfing things if I don''t get on top of things. But I can''t hot-patch the issues this is causing fast enough to make any headway. I need a beat to figure it out, but I can''t do that with all these error messages spiralling out everywhere. A lot is going on elsewhere at the moment, and I can''t spare the resources for your particular backwater of Nofuckingwhereville to handle this. Just stop for a second. Please. . .
***Third Stage of Grief message***
Fuck''s sake! Okay, look, just stop what you''re doing, and I''ll give you a free Skill. Anything off the peg. Anything at all. I''ll even adapt one for you if you like. Anything at all. Please! Something crap''s going to happen if you don''t stop making that fucking armour!
***System Alert***
Player Norton This is Regional System Administration. We have identified unusual activity on this account, which has now been flagged for our attention. You are currently crafting a piece of Medium Leather Armour through Leatherworking earned via . You began doing so with active. This forbidden combination occurred due to you possessing a unique Skill developed for you by the System: . As you are undoubtedly aware, no Class with access to is eligible to develop professional Skills. We are, therefore, experiencing several unintended consequences right now, and your player experience may be temporarily affected while they are addressed. Please halt your crafting and acknowledge receipt of this message. With Cosmic Regards, [Your Regional System Administrator - Milky Way Branch]
***Fuck You Very Much***
Awesome. Cheers. Thanks for that. After everything I''ve done for you, and you draw System Admin''s attention on me. And not just that, you then fucking ghost them when they actually do something reasonable for once. Brilliant. Hope nothing horrible happens to you when you sleep. Apparently, the average human consumes eight spiders a year when snoring. It would be terrible if all of that occurred in one night, wouldn''t it? Sleep well, bitch!
***System Alert v2***
Player Norton This is Regional System Administration. We note you have not accessed our last message. You have continued to craft Medium Armour that was begun with active. Due to the unexpected interplay of and , your Leatherworking has increased to Level 200. This appears to be an explicit exploit. Your Leatherworking has been reset to zero. Player Andrews, who was also gaining a significant advantage due to her connection to your exploit, has had the level of her reset to its normal parameters. However, despite the clear advantages you have gained via this exploit, we do not find you intentionally sought to bypass System Administration oversight in this matter. After due consideration, we will thus allow you to keep the outcome of the crafting - but it will be downgraded to Rare. Beyond this incident, we have identified a number of other unusual activities associated with your recent experience during this integration. Integration Control will review these. Your access to Guide will be temporarily restricted whilst this review takes place. Please continue to enjoy the System, where your destiny is forged in the stars. With Cosmic Regards, [Your Regional System Administrator - Milky Way Branch]
Lorelei read through the flurry of notifications, the bottom of her stomach dropping out as they progressed. She had been so engrossed in what she had been doing that she hadn''t noticed that the level of communication was much more than her Guide usually threw at her. And to be honest, it was right when it said she had been ignoring it. There was only so much snark that she wanted to be dealing with. However, that didn''t look like such a wise decision right now. "Guide?" Nothing. The ticker tape of her notifications did not move at all, which was quite a disorienting experience. None of the other functions of her Guide seemed to be working either¡ªshe couldn''t check her Map, her Bank, or her Inventory, which was also locked. Shit, she thought. That couldn''t be good. And she didn''t like the sound of Integration Control looking into things, either. From everything she had been able to put together about her Class and her patron God, there had been quite a bit of fast and loose rule playing around her. Hild reached the door back into the pub and turned, beckoning for Lorelei to follow. "Are you coming?" Lorelei grimaced, noting that the armour - which had caused all of this trouble - looked pretty good on the tall Valkyrie. "Coming where?" "Chrissy will have her Skill back now, right? There is nothing to stop us from setting out now. Zorrobar doesn''t need what you took, and we''ve got some time before you steal another Skill, right? We can make some headway towards our quest. Maybe find some gear for Pete." Of course, the journey to the cathedral. Lorelei stood up and dusted herself down, little pieces of leather and wire falling to the floor. She had a horrible feeling that not having access to the System Guide for the foreseeable future would make things somewhat more complex. Had Lorelei glanced down to the end of the beer garden, she would have seen the frowning face of a beautiful teenage girl - holding a spindle and thread - who would have, very much, been able to agree with that sentiment. Chapter Thirty-Six - Just banging tunes and Tanks from Newcastle wanting a shirt "Ahooeny caeouu drughaaen peeood?" Lorelei didn''t say anything. "Reeodunda aeeoghuth fluaeurn.Traeeneth juoorun aeeeuught?" Lorelei still didn''t say anything. "Aeeouned eoueauuu droouiiie . . ." "Does anyone know what the fuck Pete is trying to say to me?" Lorelei knew that her temper had become a little shorter than usual since reading the slew of missed notifications from her Guide and, subsequently, the Regional System Administrator. Conscious of not letting her poor humour impact the group, she''d been doing her best to maintain a sunny disposition as they began their stumbling journey across the city. And she''d been, largely, pulling it off. That is, right up until an elderly northern Tank decided to strike up a conversation with her. The fact that he was still pretty much naked as he did so didn''t do much for her mood. "Can you seriously not understand him?" Michael materialised out of a shadow beside her, his sister, as always, glued to his side. Lorelei smiled a tight grimace of apology to Pete, who blithely waved it away. "No. Not at all." The Veiled Stalker frowned, once again reinforcing in Lorelei''s mind his startling similarity to a bemused rodent. "I mean, he''s from Newcastle. It''s not like he''s not speaking English or anything!" "She''s a right snooty cow, this one," Michelle commented ever so helpfully. "Bet she''s never even spoken to anyone working class before." Lorelei almost gasped at the unfairness of that. Fortunately, though, she managed to restrain herself. As she was currently eight minutes away from losing possession of the Skill - the talent she had ''stolen'' from something called a [Grizzled Belcher] that had been within her Skill''s ''active'' range when the reset came - this was a very good thing. Gassing her companions to death was hardly the best way to make friends and influence people. It was embarrassing enough that she had to stay downwind of them all. "It''s not a class thing," she said. "I''m the first member of my family to go to university . . ." "Oh, whoop-de-doo! Proper little Ron Weasley, aren''t you?" Lorelei wasn''t sure what she had done to offend Michelle. And what was it with the women in this group? She had Hild, and now Michelle, wanting to claw her eyes out, and Chrissy saving her life with a stripper pole. Much more of this, and they''d need to start a girl band and marry Premiership footballs. "Aoeudhfgtre?" Pete asked, looking concerned at the rising tension. The two Veiled Stalkers turned to look at Lorelei. "Well? He asked you a question." Lorelei took a deep breath - which nearly made her vomit. Seriously? How much longer was this Skill going to last? - and tried to find her calm. The loss of her System Guide''s snarky words was playing on her mind more than Lorelei would ever want to admit aloud. From the very first moment that the integration had taken place, she had been able to call on it to help her find her centre, even if, most of the time, it was just to have a proxy focus for her feelings of anger and bafflement. She found it helped to have something to rage against. But there had also been comfort in having access to something that knew what was happening. She hadn''t realised how much she had got used to that. "Look," she said gently to Pete. "I''m so sorry, Pete. I don''t know why, but I just can''t make out what you are saying." "Snooty. Cow." Ignoring Michelle, she took the tank''s calloused hand in hers and looked into his eyes. The fact doing so was the best way not to look at the rest of his semi-naked body did nothing to detract from the sincerity of her gesture. "Is there something you need from me? That you want me to do?" "Fuck''s sake, love, he''s not fucking Lassie!" Michael said, and then started barking madly at his sister. "What''s that, Mick?" she asked, playing along. "Has Timmy fallen down the old mineshaft?" "Is there any chance at all you two could, you know, fuck off?" Then, an idea occurred to her, and she turned to face them fully, letting her rancid breath blow towards them. With a few disparaging comments about her oral hygiene, they both opened portals of shadows and disappeared into them. As Lorelei watched, they each popped back into being a little way down the road, gesticulating wildly - and profanely - at her. "Why can''t I ever steal a useful Skill like that one?" she thought before remembering she was still holding Pete''s hand. "Pete, I''m so sorry. What is it you need from me?" A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. The big man''s face creased into a frown of concentration, and this time, when he spoke - with exaggerated care - she could actually understand him. "Can ye mek us a shirt, pet?" Lorelei almost laughed at the expression on his face as much as at the incongruity of the request. "A shirt?" Pete pulled his hand away from hers and gestured at his naked torso. "Aye, it''s not reet for an auld fella like us to be gannin'' aboot starkers." Lorelei did her best not to look down - trying to decipher his words helped. "You''re embarrassed about being naked?" "Aye. If ye could knock us up a shirt, just to tide us ower till a find some proper armour, I''d appreciate it, like." Lorelei did not know whether it was the clearly conscious effort Pete was making to be understood or if she was actually finding it easier to understand his accent. "I''m sorry, Pete, I don''t think I know how to do that. I was able to make Hild that leather chest piece because I already had the Leatherworking Skill. I haven''t got anything like Tailoring . . ." There was a soft ding in her head that, obviously, Pete heard too. He cocked his head and smiled. "It sounds like ye might''ve just learnt it. What d''ye reckon?" Lorelei was torn. She had nothing against doing a little bit of needlework for Pete - in fact, she could even imagine she''d find the activity reasonably therapeutic. It was something she''d enjoyed pre-integration. Lorelei had taken up sewing to pass the interminable stretches of time in the evening that the Prick with prick had left her hanging at a loose end. Initially, it was just something to do, a way to keep from glaring at the clock. But over time, the gentle, rhythmic motion of the needle through fabric became more than a mere distraction; it had become - if not a source of joy - then at least of deep satisfaction. Lorelei had learned to appreciate the intricacies of the craft¡ªthe snick of scissors slicing through the fabric, the delicate tension required to pull each stitch just so, and the meditative state she entered as patterns slowly blossomed beneath her fingers. It certainly beat ugly crying in front of Sex and the City. By the time their relationship was winding down, what had started as simple hems and patches had evolved into an impressive repertoire. Lorelei had mastered French seams, deftly handled tricky buttonholes, and even dabbled in decorative embroidery, each project more ambitious than the last. The act of creation, the challenge of perfecting a new technique, had become her solace. It probably said nothing good about how often the wanker had let her down that she''d basically developed the skill set of a Victorian spinster. One of her friends had even joked that she was turning into Miss Havisham. "Although without the wedding dress to repair," the wag had added. They didn''t see so much of each other after that. Lorelei remembered one evening in particular: the sun had set long ago, and she had just finished an elaborate floral design, the final flourish in a series of increasingly complex projects. It was then she realised she wasn''t just filling time anymore; she was genuinely enjoying herself. The irony wasn''t lost on her. Waiting for a man who could never be punctual had unlocked a passion she hadn''t known she possessed. "Actually, Pete," she said, her tone lightening, "now I think about it, I''d love to make you a shirt." * "We''re going to have to kill her," Hild said, her face dark. "We''ve no other choice." Steffan shook his head. "I''m not talking about this anymore, Hild. I don''t know what''s got into you, but we''re not going to ''kill'' a member of our party. Lorelei isn''t to blame for the things her Class does." "Then who is!" she shouted at the man''s back as he walked away from her. "Every hour that goes by, we''re playing Russian Roulette. It''s just a matter of time before she steals a Skill we need at exactly the wrong moment. And even if she doesn''t, we''re still all sitting ducks in combat. You saw what happened with the Urban Shadow. Are you going to keep us safe from the next fuck up? What happens the next time we get ''unlucky'', Steffan?" But the young Necromancer had sped up, joining Chrissy, Kriss and Zorrobar a little further up the road. His Zombie army moved to shadow his progress, leaving the Valkyrie alone at the back of their group. Hild cursed a blue streak after him, but if Steffan heard, he ignored it. Why couldn''t anyone else see how exposed they all were right now? And it wasn''t just that Fortuna''s Herald had forced a quest to cross the city upon them, with all the inherent dangers that brought with it. Hild wasn''t wild about that, but it had at least bound the group a little more tightly together. To be fair, if it hadn''t been a compulsory quest - which she instinctively hated - she might have suggested something similar herself. And it wasn''t even what had happened with them all suddenly experiencing life at Level 40. She understood that Lorelei had been doing her best to help out and that she couldn''t always control the consequences of the actions of her Class. And it wasn''t even that unexpectedly granted Title - Hold a Grudge - where she was given a 2.5% increase to all stats, providing she harboured tremendous ill-will towards someone - with Lorelei fitting that bill quite nicely. No. It was a combination of all of that, plus how she saw Kriss looking at the younger woman. Hild knew there was something ridiculous about the schoolgirl crush that she was harbouring for the party''s Healer. She was a big enough girl to know it wasn''t reciprocated - and that was fine. You didn''t need to make all the shots you took. But something was grinding her gears about such a sensible, capable man preferring that chaos monkey to someone who actually had valuable abilities. And yes, she had seen the last series of Game of Thrones and was self-aware enough to see the parallels. "You have the right of it, you know?" Hild turned to look into Michelle''s rat like face. "What?" "She''s dangerous. We''d be better off without her." Hild scanned the group, gingerly picking its way across the ruined remains over the flyover that led to Spaghetti Junction. They''d determined that the single most straightforward way to Lichfield Cathedral was to get out of the city centre and then follow the route of the M6. Steffan had been keen to go ''cross country'', but the majority voice had won out. They didn''t let his Zombies vote. "This you speaking, or you and your brother?" "Just me for now. I''ll get him on board, though." Hild did not miss the way the Veiled Stalker''s eyes were lingering on their Healer and felt a pang of disgust. What on earth had gotten into her that she was conspiring with such a creature? And over a man? But then she watched as Pete appeared a little way ahead of them, sporting a very snazzy-looking tunic, and the rest of the group burst out in applause for Fortuna''s Herald. Including - she was irritated to see - Kriss. "What are you thinking?" And Michelle''s ratty teeth were suddenly displayed in a wide smile. Chapter Thirty-Seven - The perverted fear of violence chokes a smile on every face Lorelei found the sight of the abandoned M6 to be peculiarly affecting. Considering all that she had witnessed¡ªand, in some cases, done¡ªsince the integration had begun, it said something that the thing that almost brought her to tears was a long, long line of abandoned cars. There had obviously been some pretty spectacular crashes during those initial moments when the sky had ripped open, and those walls of text had appeared. Lorelei imagined that choosing your Class and negotiating travelling at 70 mph was probably pretty tricky. She wondered how many of those millions of deaths in the initial periods of integration hadn''t been down to humankind collectively losing its shit and going all murderhobo, but rather just plain ''old wrong place at the wrong time'', common-or-garden bad luck. The irony of that almost brought a smile to her face. And then she started noting soft toys amongst the carnage and sobered up damn quickly. The ding that announced another hour had passed interrupted her musings. As someone who had, very much, been a stickler for everything in her life having a time and a place, she was actually welcoming that noise. Considering the shambles around her, it was comforting to have a better handle on the passage of the hours. Lorelei opened up her stat sheet and quickly scanned through her Skills to see what was the latest ability she had randomly stolen. "Shit," she muttered and then turned to shout at the rest of the group that was following in her wake. "New hour and I''ve just pulled something off a Level 10 mob. Anyone see anything out there?" To be fair, Lorelei thought, as the party reacted quickly to her yell and fell into a decent defensive formation, everyone was starting to fill out into their roles quite nicely. Even her, she thought. They''d all agreed it made good use of her most recently acquired Skill for Lorelei to act as the party''s scout. In practice, this meant - once they''d worked out what her ''active'' range actually was - her hovering a decent distance ahead of the rest of them when the Skill''s cooldown was nearly up and using the ding as an opportunity to check what was out there. "Kind of like radar," Kris had said, winking at her. "Yeah, once-an-hour-can-flag-one-bad-guy-without-telling-us-where-to-look radar. Absolutely the best possible sort. I cannot imagine how the world possibly coped before," Hild had snarked. That relationship hadn''t improved despite the gift of the Guide breaking chest piece. There was the huff of laboured breathing behind her. "So, what skill did ye pick up, then?" Pete had jogged up to cover her, now there was no danger of her stealing any of his Skills. Lorelei smiled as she looked at him as the Adamantine Sentinel was quite the sight. Anything their group had been able to loot that would help out their two ungeared tanks had been funnelled straight to Hild and Pete. However, it seemed the Valkyrie''s build was far more flexible in what she could wear. The tall woman might not be looking quite as imposing as she had been before all her fancy gear was mushed in the Level 40 debacle, but it at least looked like she''d picked a style lane. Pete . . . not so much. "You doing okay, Pete?" Lorelei asked as the profusely sweating man removed a bucket with two eye holes punched in it from off his head. "That doesn''t look all that comfortable." "Divvent worry aboot me. It''s aalreet. Got some canny stats on it, so ah can''t complain. Anyway, ah haven''t seen owt else ah can equip yet." As Pete could only wear things¡ªapart from his splendid new cotton shirt with +5 Stamina on it¡ªthat were designated for use by ''Heavy Tanks,'' they had not been able to loot anything close to a matching set for him. He looked nothing so much like a walking jumble sale. With a grunt, he hefted his massive bastard sword up on his shoulder and scanned the long expanse of concrete littered with abandoned vehicles which lay before them. "What Skill was it, like?" he asked again. Lorelei brought up her stat screen and searched again for the newly added Skill. "," she replied, cursing - not for the first time - that without her Guide, there was no way to find out what it did without activating it. "Lurk? That sounds like summat''s ganna be lookin'' to ambush us, then?," then a look of profound consternation came over his face. "Whe the hell did ye gan, lass?" Smiling, Lorelei switched off and Pete''s eyes focusing on her again. "Sorry, I just tried it out. It''s some sort of invisibility Skill, I think." "Bollocks. Just what we need. What d''ye reckon, get everyone together for a conflab?" Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. Lorelei shook her head, looking ahead of the group for any sign of the creature that was awaiting them. In theory, should mean that the previous invisible creature was now very much corporeal. At least for the next thirteen minutes. "I''m not sure we have the time. If I''ve stolen whatever is out there''s stealth Skill, then we''ve got a little window of opportunity where we should be able to see it. I think we need to flush it out while it is visible." She turned and yelled across the silent roadway to their Necromancer. "Steffan?" The young man glanced around in momentary confusion at hearing his name and then zeroed in on Lorelei. "What?" Lorelei had hoped he might walk a bit closer so that they weren''t bellowing their tactical discussion across a hundred yards of potentially hostile territory. However, as everyone was, understandably, a little leery of having their best Skills randomly stolen from them, she was learning to hold conversations at a higher volume than her previous experience. "I''ve taken an invisibility Skill off something big and nasty in the near vicinity. We need to kill it before it can hide again," she shouted, hoping that whatever was out there did not have a command of the English language. "Okay . . . What do you want from me?" "I think this would be a good time for Operation Kamikaze Charge." Understanding dawned in Steffan''s eyes. Or, at least, Lorelei presumed it did. It was hard to read micro-expressions at such a distance. However, as he quickly directed his Zombie Cheerleaders into a line across both sides of the motorway and commanded them to run forward, she assumed he picked up what she was putting down. "Everyone else needs to get ready for something to pop up. It''ll be Level 10, so let''s not fuck about with any heroics. Stick to the plan. We let Pete and Hild aggro it first before anyone else does any damage." "Fuck''s sake, we know what we''re doing! Just concentrate on not killing any of us with any of your bullshit!" Hild yelled back, running to follow the scampering zombies. Lorelei quickly checked that everyone else was ready for some action. Pete was shambling forward to support Hild, Zorrobar had a circling column of flame at his side, Kris''s eyes were watchful for where some healing might be needed, Michelle and Michael had vanished, and Chrissy . . . . A little more explanation might be required about what the Chameleon Courtesan was up to. On their way out of the city centre, they had stumbled upon a fancy dress store which, it turned out, was somewhat of a goldmine for the stripper''s Class. Right now, Chrissy was rocking a look that Lorelei was thinking of as ''Slutty Robin Hood''. All of this now meant that rather than a secondary Healer, their group appeared to have gained a sniper. "You see anything, Chrissy?" Steffan shouted over to her. He was watching his little army clamber up and over burned-out cars and the various detritus that indicated all sorts of nasty shenanigans had taken place here in the very recent past. It looked like at least some of it was not due to vehicular collisions. Chrissy shook her head and then vomited - sudden movement with the beneath Pete''s feet just as the big man was pierced by two of the monster''s legs and lifted off the ground. The Tank was battering it on the head with his sword but was making little impact. With two soft pops, Michael and Michelle appeared, leaping, in the air behind the spider, driving their twin knives deep into its carapace and then vanishing again into dark portals. Zorrobar thrust his pillar of flame forward, skilfully weaving it around Steffan''s swarming zombies. The instant the fire touched the Shadowweaver Arachnis, it unleashed a piercing scream and dropped Pete to the floor. The big man shook himself off, bellowed his taunt anew, and charged, headbutting the spider squarely in the head. "The first time I saw him do that, I assumed he had a Skill for it," Kris murmured, having moved to stand next to Lorelei. "And he doesn''t?" Lorelei tried to concentrate on the fight, whilst ignoring her desire to take a step even closer to the healer. "Not as far as I can tell. I think he just likes doing it. I don''t even think it does very much damage. At least, not to whatever he''s fighting. I''ve levelled up twice, just through repairing his forehead." Hild had positioned herself on the other side of the spider now and was alternating her taunt - "By Odin''s sweaty ball sack!" - with Pete''s, disorientating the creature, which kept scuttling around to face whichever of the tanks was seeking its attention. Even though the Shadowweaver Arachnis substantially out levelled each of them individually, the group was getting better at co-ordinating its fights. And, with having Chrissy adding some extra DPS via some pretty explosive quarrels, it was all over well before the spider had its skill returned to it. Hild finished it off with a crashing downward strike with her axe, splitting the creature in two. "Well, I think that went about as well as we could have hoped . . ." Kris began. Which was exactly the right moment for the three other Level 10 Shadowweaver Arachnis - ones whose Skill was still very much available - to introduce themselves to proceedings. Chapter Thirty-Eight - The spider burned while I cried because I heard it screaming out your name The asphalt of the motorway lay littered with the detritus of their battle with the first Shadowweaver Arachnis. The little group stood around the smouldering corpse of the giant spider, breathless but feeling no little sense of victory. But then the ground trembled once more as three more creatures burst out of and swarmed forward to attack them "Shit. It never rains. Almost like we''ve got a fucking bad penny on our side. Form up behind us!" Hild shouted, running forward, her axe raised in a defensive posture. Pete, jogged to join her, his mismatched armour clanking as he moved. Lorelei couldn''t help but be worried about the tank''s beet-red complexion. She''d had a Great Uncle who died of a heart-attack during a blazing row at a family meal; he''d looked just like Pete in the moments before. Steffan gathered the remainder of his Zombie Cheerleaders and directed them forward, hoping to buy the rest of them some time to devise a plan. "Hold them off!" he commanded down his mental link. His little army vaulted and gambolled forward to engage the approaching spiders. Looking at the size disparity, he didn''t hold much hope that they would be able to delay them for long. Zorrobar wasted no time, teeing off and hurling fireballs like a baseball pitcher. Explosions scorched each of the creatures'' exoskeletons, but they kept advancing. "Fuck''s sake, Z!" Hild yelled, "wait until we''ve got them under taunt!" Michael and Michelle vanished into their shadow portals, and - considering the growing chaos - Lorelei couldn''t blame them. She had no doubt they''d be popping up behind the spiders when the moment came for some sneaky backstabbing action but, for now, better they were out of danger. On the other side of Zorrabar, for her part, Chrissy had been putting arrow after arrow into the lead spider''s eye but stopped at Hild''s frustrated shout. "Don''t aggro the fucking monsters! This is basic stuff, people!" Grimacing, Chrissy lowered her bow, swapping out the mundane arrows for something that glowed fiercely. She took aim but waited this time. Lorelei watched everything unfold, heart pounding, holding her Double-Headed coin tightly. Every instinct was telling her to wade in and help her new friends, but she feared using her Skills in case it made things worse. At least the party was benefiting from her extra critical hit chance . . . Although, thinking about all the arrows and fireballs that had failed to put a dent in the monsters, it didn''t appear that bonus was doing them much good. She clenched her fists, feeling utterly helpless. The spiders were moving ridiculously fast, crushing cars under them as they scampered their way. Steffan''s zombies were left in their wake, the monsters barely paused to knock them away before they were on the tanks. The one on the far left lunged at Pete, one of its forelegs aiming for his neck. He raised his sword in time, but the force knocked him away into a vehicle''s wreckage. Kris threw a beneath him and he was quickly staggering back to his feet, breathing heavily. Hild swung her axe in a wide arc, forcing the central spider back and buying some space. "By Frig''s frigging finger" she taunted, causing the other two spiders suddenly to look her way, hiss and pounce on her. She vanished under their skittering bodies. Now all attention was on Hild - and Kris was channelling everything he had to keep her in one piece - Zorrobar sent one of his most powerful spells, , into the fray. "We need to focus our attacks on one at a time!" A burning skull appeared above one of the monsters. "Just attack the one I''ve marked!" At his shout, Michael and Michelle appeared, coordinating their strikes to slash at the indicated spiders'' legs. That creature slowed its assault on Hild for a moment but didn¡¯t stop the others from trying to tear her to pieces. By the look on Kris'' face, Lorelei thought, it wasn''t going to take much longer before he couldn''t mitigate that damage. The motorway was a wall of noise. Steel clashed, fire crackled, and the spiders screeched. Pete stumbled to rejoin Hild in front of the three monsters, pulling her clear from under them, but the two were clearly overmatched. Their weapons flashed as they parried and struck at the monstrous spiders, their voices growing hoarse using their taunts to keep the focus on them. The level disparity was too big, Lorelei thought. Were it not for Kris pouring everything he had into the two of them, it would already be game over. "Steffan, pull your head out of your arse and do something. We need more support!" Hild screamed, her voice strained as she took a powerful swipe from a spider''s leg to her chest. Cursing, she dropped to one knee and Pete moved to stand over her. If his face was red before, it was now ashen as blood poured from thousands of cuts Kris didn''t have the spare mana to fix. Steffan nodded desperately and directed his zombies to reinforce the tanks. As one, the undead figures swarmed the biggest of the three spiders, their relentless biting and scratching attacks buying precious moments for Hild to stagger back to her feet. Zorrobar unleashed a torrent of flame at that same spider, the fire dancing across its carapace and, crucially, not going out this time. "Keep up the pressure! We''re getting somewhere" he yelled, his face illuminated by the fiery glow. He seemed to be enjoying himself a little more than anyone else. But it was all going to be too much. The three spiders were seconds away from overwhelming the tanks and, after that, the fat lady would be back in her dressing room, slapping herself on the back - or at least trying to - over another gig well delivered. Lorelei''s eyes darted across the scene, her mind racing. She had to do something, but she couldn''t risk throwing in a . Everything was on too tight an edge. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. Then she had an idea. Without another thought, Lorelei sprinted toward the edge of the fight, waving her arms and shouting to draw one of the spiders'' attention. "Hey, bug face, over here!" As she did so, she picked up a chunk of road debris and hurled it at the nearest arachnid, breaking the tenuous hold Pete''s taunt had on it. The spider¡¯s many eyes swivelled to lock onto her, and it broke away from the main fight, charging towards her down the motorway. "Well, fuck. Why do only my crap plans work out exactly the way I intended . . ." Turning around, Lorelei''s heart pounded as she ran, the spider gaining on her at a terrifying pace. It was right about now she would be delighted to see the Guide''s snarky words running across her vision. A bit of advice on how to avoid being one-shot would be very welcome. But no. Nothing. Her notifications remained resolutely silent. As Lorelei ran, she ducked and weaved between abandoned cars, using them as obstacles to slow the creature''s advance. It all seemed a touch futile. * Now that the third Shadowweaver had been pulled away, Hild and Pete could finally assert some control over proceedings. They were still being royally fucked up, but they were getting somewhere in allowing the damage dealers to attack without being in danger of pulling attention. Chrissy, in particular was doing the business, pouring after into the Shadowweavers. Then, with a scream that was part triumph and part unhinged terror, Hild''s axe cleaved into the joint of a spider¡¯s leg, black ichor spraying from the wound. The spider screeched and recoiled, giving Pete the perfect opening to drive his bastard sword deep into its thorax, gritting his teeth against the resistance. Kris''s hands were a blur of motion, healing magic flowing constantly to keep the tanks on their feet. "Not much longer now. Everything is under control. I got you." His voice was steady, a calm centre in the storm of battle. This was a complete contrast to Michael and Michelle''s blitzing, hit-and-run tactics, their shadowy forms appearing and disappearing with deadly precision. They were now focusing on the wounded spider, aiming to exploit the wound Pete had opened up. Commeth the moment, commeth the fire mage. Zorrobar, seeing the opportunity, activated his most mana-heavy spell and, because he had loved Mortal Kombat in his youth, couldn''t help but intone out a "Finish him!" Flames engulfed the arachnid with a thunderclap, its screams echoing across the motorway. With a final, desperate lunge, it collapsed, twitching and burning. * Lorelei continued to lead her pursuer through a gauntlet of wrecked vehicles. She felt the heat of its breath on her back and heard the grinding of its legs on the concrete as it moved. If she hadn''t had arachnophobia before, she was willing to subscribe now. Then, ducking low and rolling forward, she spotted an abandoned petrol lorry ahead, its massive bulk offering protection but also was able to start an idea forming in her head. Something like this had worked against the , hadn''t it? With no Guide to take the piss out of what was surely a suicidal idea, Lorelei summoned her courage, made a sharp turn and led the Shadowweaver around the back of the truck, then at the last moment, she dove through a gap between the lorry and the trailer. The spider, unable to stop in time, crashed into the tanker. The impact rocked the massive vehicle, and for a moment, Lorelei was sure it would explode. She could almost hear the dice roll in her head, testing her luck. But no. No giant explosion, although the spider was just momentarily dazed. "Oh, come on!" * Hild and Pete were now into a nice rhythm. With one spider down, they fell into the routine that had served them well against that first opponent. The big difference now, though, was that they were utterly knackered, their mana stores were low, and the rest of the party wasn''t in much better of a state. Nevertheless, Hild¡¯s axe swung in vicious arcs, each strike aimed at critical points. "Keep pressing!" she urged, "it hasn''t got much left!" Pete, almost naked again as his armour had been smashed and crushed to atoms, held his ground. "It''s not the only one, pet" he grunted, more to himself than anyone else. Sweat beaded Kris'' forehead as he maintained a constant flow of energy into their two protectors. He drank the last of his mana potions and took a deep breath. It was against his nature not to be the positive voice, but they needed to know the healing tap would be turned off soon. "I''m afraid I don''t know how much longer I can keep this up, guys. If we don''t kill this thing soon, I worry we''re going to lose someone." Zorrobar nodded, his face bathed in flame. "Okay, so let¡¯s end this," he said, conjuring another roaring inferno. Jets of flame erupted around the creature, and he kept the flames as intense as he could, pushing the spider back and away from Pete and Hild. The Shadowweaver reared up as if preparing to jump over the wall of flame, but then Michael and Michelle appeared on its back, knives glowing redly as they drove them downwards with a shout. At the same moment Chrissy unleased three massive . That was all she wrote. "Two down!" Pete shouted, his voice hoarse but triumphant. He leaned heavily on his sword, exhaustion clear on his face. Hild flopped down to sit next to him, drenched in sweat. Steffan recalled his zombies, wincing at the state of them, and looked about him. "Hang on. Has anyone seen Lorelei?" * Lorelei stared at the disorientated monster and then down at the coin in her hand. She had to be far enough away from the rest of the group to be able to risk it now, surely? She tossed the coin a few times experimentally, checking its weight. With a little shake, the Shadowweaver seemed to be coming back to its senses and was beginning to extricate itself from the petrol tanker. "Now or never," Lorelei thought, and threw the coin at it, remembering to do a little jig just in the case, somewhere, the Guide was watching.
Unleashed: Fortuna''s Herald flips a coin
Original Attack Outcome: [Negative Result] Lvl 10 Shadowweaver Arachnis is healed to 100%
Mitigation roll due to dance routine.
Mitigation successful.
New Attack Outcome: The coin bounces off the spider''s carapace and strikes the petrol tanker, which then explodes.
Damage Dealt: 20k fire damage
The spider vanished in a cloud of ash. Lorelei had just a moment to feel a sense of disappointment at the lack of snark in the description, before the fire swallowed her up too. Chapter Thirty-Nine - Flew to the sun to start life all over. Set up a bar and robbed all the locals With a deep frown on her face, Moira watched the group slowly picking their way down the motorway. She suspected the other Old Ones would find something distasteful about her continued presence on this planet, but the distortion caused by Fortuna''s Herald had turned into an itch she could not scratch. It beggared belief that, in the whole of creation, Moira was unable to ignore one small patch of randomness in a world the rest of them probably did not even know had been integrated, but when it came to Lady Luck, the better demons of Moira''s mind rarely won out. Damn that bitch! There was just something about that frustrating being that got under her skin. Not that she had anything as prosaic as ''skin'', of course, but the sentiment was sound. If Moira were given her druthers, Fortuna and her ilk would be cast down into the void alongside all the other gods and goddesses deemed detrimental to the wider good. That the others treated the Goddess of Luck with something akin to amused acceptance - akin to a baby wolverine you just knew would grow up to tear out your throat but was just so fucking fluffy right now - particularly ground Moira''s gears. Thus, if the Goddess of Luck was lurking around this corner of the universe, the Weaver of Fate wanted to know why. And, just in the short time she''d been tracking Fortuna''s Herald, there had already been enough interference to the Greater Pattern to make her blood boil. The coolly rational part of Moira''s mind - a very small part after all these millennia, but still there - understood that just as her role was to maintain things the way they were ''supposed to be'', it was the point of Fortuna to seek to sprinkle a little chaotic magic dust. "Life," as her father, Chronos, had once explained, "is the intersection of chance and certainty. Too much of the former and existence collapses into randomised acts of horror. But an excess of the latter? Well, where is the joy in rigid stability?" She privately thought that scolding was a bit rich coming from someone who literally rewound time at the slightest disappointment but had not pressed the issue. Daddy dearest could be a touch irritable if his words of ''wisdom'' were not appropriately treated with awe. So, her personal ambivalence towards Fortuna went some way to explain why a being of her power and influence was closeting herself away on a planet that had not even received its official designation. Her mood did not improve any as she watched this group of fucking misfits dispose of a Level 10 Shadowweaver that, improbably, had lost its ability to just as they wandered close. Checking the appropriate threads, Moira saw that two of them should already be being digested in the spider''s gullet, with a third experiencing such trauma at the incident they would take their own life the following evening. Nevertheless, as it always did, the Greater Pattern adjusted, and the reinvigorated threads spiralled outwards to knit together new futures. It was all so . . . untidy. For a moment, Moira was tempted to snip the growing strands and have done with it. That was entirely within her gift, and no one would say anything about it . . . Well, that wasn''t true, was it? She imagined there would be quite a lot of comment about her choosing to get involved in such a matter: Gelos would be poking fun for aeons . . . No. Fortuna had been right when she''d said the last thing Moira was willing to accept was ridicule. As tempting as it was, she wasn''t going to risk ''the time Moo went all ''Final Destination'' on a bunch of Level 5s'' becoming an anecdote around the family dinner table. Besides, casting her mind along those threads, it was hardly going to be a long-term disruption, was it? Especially with three Shadowweavers exploding from and charging the surprised party. But, as she watched what she was going to have to call a ''battle'' because her vocabulary did not have a word small enough for what was taking place before her, the determined conclusion constantly failed to arrive. Strikes from the spider''s forelegs kept finding thin air rather than carotid arteries. Spat globules of poison were intercepted on shields instead of splattering on faces. Heals critted when they should have been insufficient to keep the focus of their attention alive. Watching the Greater Pattern constantly spin, turn and adjust itself to the continued existence of those in the party was causing her pain - literal and metaphorical. Moira turned to glare at the cause of all the fraying and wriggling threads of fate. Fortuna''s fucking Herald. There she was. Stood right at the back of the group, looking like butter wouldn''t melt and doing nothing other than emitting an aura of absolute chaos. Moira doubted the woman even knew what she was doing, but that didn''t make it any better, did it? This group should have been wiped, and their futures tied up into lovely little bows of spent existence by now. But there they still were, fucking around and never seemingly finding out. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Moira''s hand brushed her spindle and thread. She could stop this now. They should all have been dead a hundred times over in this confrontation. She would just be putting things back as they were supposed to. No harm. No foul. But Gelos'' divided face - one side showing a wide grin and the other a sly, mischievous smile - swam into her face. "And then, you''ll never guess what she did! She cut the threads herself!" And then, just as her revulsion at all these unearned futures reached its peak and her hand moved to bring it all to an end, Fortuna''s Herald darted forward and kited one of the Shadowweavers away from the group. Well, that should have a reasonably straightforward outcome . . . Casually snipping away at any outcomes that might lead anyone to notice her presence, Moira drifted forward to watch this unpleasant business''s expected conclusion. She''d always liked a good Shadowweaver Arachnis. As fellow spinners, she felt they always understood their assignment; whether thinning out the ranks of the weak on newly integrated planets or doing her a favour in scoffing down a troublesome Herald. To be fair, Moira thought, as Fortuna''s favourite jigged this way and that, trying to escape the closing monster, what the woman had done was pretty effective. Even now, the Greater Pattern showed that the rest of the group would survive their fight with the remaining two spiders. Moira shrugged. She could accept that little bit of revisionism. The essential sacrifice was just about to happen, and without their little ''good luck'' charm bending reality around her, none of them had much future left anyway. There were two of Level 10s camping a little further up the M6 that were going to enjoy a bit of XP farming tomorrow morning. Then, almost driving its pincers through Fortuna''s Herald, the Shadowweaver careened into a petrol tanker. "No," Moira exclaimed, seeing a potential future blossom into existence. And, without being able to stop herself, she snipped away at the outcome that had the spider destroyed. "You couldn''t help yourself, could you?" Moira turned to face Fortuna, a deep blush covering the Weaver of Fate''s face. "How long have you been here?" "Long enough to see your knickers getting into a twist. And I mean that literally. Isn''t there a pair of trousers you could put on, Moo? I''m not sure slut chic is that becoming for an Old One." Self-consciously, Moira shifted her form from that of a runway model to a more appropriately dressed middle-aged woman. "I thought you were leaving this integration alone," she spluttered with as much self-righteousness as she could manage. "Stones thrown. Glass everywhere," Fortuna replied, keeping half an eye on Lorelei as she prepared to throw her coin at the stunned Shadowweaver. The girl had pluck, she had to admit. And that wasn''t always the case with her Heralds. Those who chose that Class tended to find the sort of altruistic self-sacrifice the girl had just undertaken to be anathema to their own interests. Fortuna kind of felt it was the sort of behaviour a well-adjusted deity might reward. Perhaps today was the day to try and act her age. But first . . . "Look, Moo, I''m going to level with you. I''m pissed. I get that we have this whole ''hate/hate'' thing going on. That''s fine. I zig, you zag. It''s our thing. But that? That was a little bit naughty. You straight out fucked with my Herald''s roll. But do you know what''s worse?" "What?" There was a sullen tone to Moira''s voice. "You let me catch you do it!" Lorelei had thrown her coin, and Fortuna subtly slowed down time as she yelled. This would be tough to pull off, and she needed all the advantage she could get. With luck - heh! - Moria would be too focused on her to notice. "We can''t all pick our antagonists, but at the very least, we can hope they are competent! You don''t fuck around like that in full view! I expected better Moo." "She . . . she . . . she cheated!" "She''s my fucking Herald!" Fortuna roared. "It''s not cheating when it''s literally what she does! The unlikely happens around her - good and bad - and you just fucked around with that. And I caught you doing it!" They glared at each other momentarily. Fortuna was doing everything she could not to glance at the slowly spinning coin drawing closer to the Shadowweaver. "What do you want?" Moira''s voice was so quiet that Fortuna barely heard it. "What was that?" "I asked what you wanted as recompense." Fortuna shrugged. "Like for like. I get to make your Herald accidentally step on a rake and shatter their skull. Or something like that. I''ll probably make it funnier than that, but I''m too angry for whimsy right now." Moira was shaking her head. "There''s no equivalence. Thertraxis is Level 843. Your girl has only been in the System two days." "And yet here you are, making a fucking nuisance of yourself. She seems important enough for you to take time out of your busy sewing schedule to schlepp on down here and mess with her rolls! Oh, hang on. I have a good one. Thertraxis will accidentally garrotte himself with a cardigan he''s knitted to honour your name. Irony, that''ll be. Gelos will find it hilarious." At the mention of her brother, Moira''s blush deepened. Fortuna took the chance to glance towards Lorelei and saw the coin bounce off the spider''s carapace and, lazily, ping - end over end - towards the petrol tanker. Fuck, this was going to be tighter than a Vestal Virgin''s chastity garter. "How about a boon?" "A what now?" "A boon. I''ll grant you one, no questions asked, boon. You can use it whenever you want." Fortuna stroked her chin. Every fibre of her being was screaming at her to get on with it, but you couldn''t rush these things. When you were holding no cards and bluffing for the whole pot, you didn''t keep checking your watch. "Sounds interesting. Go on?" The coin hit the tanker''s shell and cracked it, creating a spark. Slowly, fire billowed out towards the spider and Lorelei. Moira clicked her fingers, and a card shimmered into being. With a wave, she directed it to fly towards Fortuna. "Here you go. One-time use. A complete ''Get out of Fate Free'' card. That''s got to be worth the life of Level 6 Herald, surely?" Fortuna touched the card, adding it to her inventory. "Deal. But if I see you fucking around in my business again, I''ll be making it my life''s mission to ensure everyone hears about this. You get me?" Moira was already stepping through a summoned portal. "I promise. Hand on spindle." "Fuck you very much." Fortuna gave the vanishing Weaver of Fate the bird and then spun around to see the roiling inferno engulf Lorelei. It was largely seen as spectacularly bad form for Old Ones to be too hands-on with their favourites. Certainly, anyone catching Fortuna reaching into Lorelei''s crisping mind and triggering even as she died would have had plenty to say about it. But, by a stroke of luck¡ªheh!¡ªno one happened to be looking that way at that particular moment . . . Chapter Forty - Remember the time when I ate you up? Yeah I was a lie that you cant give up. Lorelei lurched upwards into a sitting position, gasping as she did so. She''d been dead. Hadn''t she? She vividly remembered that fucking spider rearing up to attack her, that last desperate, dance-fuelled throw of her coin, and then an all-encompassing white light that had been both scorching and yet oddly liberating. "Yes, yes, yes," said a voice she found slightly familiar, "It''s all very ''He who was living is now dead. We who were living are now dying. With a little patience,'' isn''t it? Although, I don''t have that much patience." Lorelei looked around at the woman in the bright red dress who stood a little way off down the motorway. "You know Eliot?" The woman''s perfect face screwed up in confusion for a second then cleared. "Oh, the poem? No, not at all. I just got lucky that I happened to say something that would resonate with you. Happens to me a lot, as I am sure you can imagine." Lorelei blinked, then nodded in understanding. "You''re Fortuna." "Fortuna. Luck. Chance. Lakshmi. Saubhagya. Gefion. Shai. For such a small little rock in the middle of nowhere, you guys really picked any number of lanes for me, didn''t you?" "I don''t know what that means." "Don''t worry about it," Fortuna said. "How you feeling?" Lorelei glanced down and patted herself, checking for damage. "Not too bad, considering I should have been burned to a crisp." Looking back towards the remains of the petrol tanker, she was greeted with the odd sight of flames flickering as if in slow motion, like a fiery screensaver gone bad. The ignited corpse of a Shadowweaver Arachnis was slowly - infinitesimally slowly - degenerating into ash. Fortuna saw her looking and smiled. "Don''t worry about it. It''s just your standard time-dilation field. With luck, the A.I. won''t even notice. And trust me when I say I know what I''m talking about there. Lorelei felt an odd pang for the missing words of the Guide but pushed them away. Now did not seem like the time. "You saved me. Again." Fortuna gave a little shrug. "What can I say? You''ve caught my interest. You might want to remember that isn''t a bad shout when certain death is on the cards. In just the short time I''ve been watching, that''s twice it''s saved you. Obviously, it was incredibly fortunate that, whilst being obliterated, you accidentally triggered the Skill as things fell apart. Don''t count on that happening again." Fortuna wagged a finger. "I can get away with a lot by playing the ''all things are randomly possible in an infinite universe'' card, but there are only so many times that card can reach the top of the deck. Do you hear what I''m saying?" Lorelei heard but wasn''t sure she understood. But that was a problem for another day. More pressing was what this being might want from her. She sensed this might not be anything good. "Why did you save me?" "Well, isn''t that the $64 million question?" For a moment, that looked like all the Goddess of Luck would say, but then - as if coming to a decision - she gave another little shrug. "What do you understand about your Class?" Lorelei gave a quick little laugh. "That it''s a complete nightmare." That didn''t seem to impress her patron, so she tried again. "I can change what is supposed to happen. But I don''t have enough control over it for it to be useful!" Even Lorelei recognised a certain tone of whining had entered her voice: she, once more, tried again. "What I mean is that . . ." "Yes, yes, I can hear what you mean." Fortuna stared at her momentarily, eyes flashing, and Lorelei realised that what she thought of as a good-looking woman in a startling red dress¡ªbearing more than a passing similarity to Six from Battlestar Galactica¡ªwas, in reality, profoundly alien. It was as if a tear in the very fabric of reality had slapped on a human mask, one that did not quite fit, and was indulging in a little light cosplay. Just looking at Fortuna for too long was making Lorelei feel sick. Then, the woman''s outline shimmered, and she was entirely human again. Yet almost immediately, the impression of wrongness began to return: it was as if the coherent quality of the form was degrading by the moment. "Don''t get me wrong, I love it when people stare at my tits rather than listen to what I''m saying. But there''s only so long I can play ''look at that shiny distraction over there'' with a billion sensors designed to stop me from doing precisely what I am up to here." Lorelei snapped her gaze up to the being''s eyes. They, too, alternated from looking human - albeit stunningly beautiful, perfect blue circles - and being terrifying black holes that led to . . . If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. "Back in the room, Herald." Fortuna was clicking her fingers in Lorelei''s face. "Back in the room, please." "Sorry. I don''t know what''s happening to me!" Fortuna glanced upwards and grimaced. "Okay, a few alarms are going off, so I will make this quick. There''s a reason my Heralds don''t usually manifest on newly integrated worlds. Everything is too . . . malleable in Systems where millions of people suddenly have access to extraordinary powers. When everything is sorting itself out, the last thing that anyone needs is even more chaos being injected into the mix." Having had quite the experiences for the last few days, Lorelei was willing to agree with that statement. "By the time it is usually appropriate for your Class to become an option, it would appear, a few decades in, as an Evolutionary option to an existing build. Perhaps a Mage or something like that. That way, the player concerned would have had time to figure things out a little and get a few other Skills under their belt. Meaning that the sort of shenanigans I''m here for would be part of their skill set but not their be-all and end-all, you get me. You, however, . . ." Lorelei''s mind whirled as a few things clicked into place. So, Fortuna''s Herald wasn''t supposed only to have Luck-based abilities? Like, what should have happened was that she should have been able to heal like Kriss, throw fireballs like Zorrobar or protect the others like Pete and throw out a few rolls of randomness? As well as instead of. "So, what the fuck happened here?" Fortuna frowned. "Hey, easy on the attitude. You picked it! No one descended from on high, put a gun to your head and asked you to fuck up your integration. In fact, I have a very vivid memory of pulling your arse out of a dragon-related death about a minute into Day One." Thinking of her argument with Moira, she added, "And I''ve taken quite some heat for it too, I''ll have you know. So, dial back the ''oh, woe is me'' a little." Lorelei bit back a reply. Fortuna was right, she knew. All of the other options had been there when she''d picked her Class: she had been the one who had been drawn to the idea of sprinkling a little randomness on the world. Fortuna obviously saw that thought blossom on Lorelei''s face and did a quick nod in recognition of the unspoken apology. "Good. Well, that leads me . . ." her voice trailed off and, again, her form blurred into something far less palatable for the sane human mind. "Shit! Okay. No more interruptions! I''ve got until Matilda finishes her doughnut and notices an email marked ''Urgent"'' from Reality Security to get the fuck out of here. And if you knew Tilda, you''d know how fast pastries vanish down her gullet. Lorelei opened her mouth to speak, but Fortuna waved her hand, sealing her mouth like they were in the interrogation scene from The Matrix. ''Keep it schtum. "Zip it! Here''s the lay of the land. I don''t usually get the chance to get on in on the ground floor of an integration. I''m finding it interesting. And I don''t usually get a shiny, clean-skin Herald who isn''t a complete psycho. So, that''s two ticks in your rather shapely box." Fortuna cocked her head for a second, watching Lorelei turn increasingly blue in panic. "Fuck''s sake, you still need to breathe, don''t you?" She waved her hand again, and Lorelei sucked in big mouthfuls of air. "How do you survive being this breakable! No, don''t answer that. I don''t have time. Here''s the deal. I think you and I have the chance here to shake things up a little. This planet has gained someone with significant Luck-based Skills far earlier than it should have done, and I can work with that. I understand you''re already driving the A.I. to distraction, and I want you to lean into that. It''s one thing for me to scare it into doing what I want, but as it gets more sure of itself, that''ll be pall. It''s quite another thing if we can get it to take a personal interest in a player. It finds you interesting. Keep being interesting." "The Guide hates me! It spends most of the time trying to kill me?" "There''s a thin line between love and hate. I''d like you to, metaphorically, of course, see about straddling that." "Why? What''s in it for you?" Then, the woman in red shimmered once again, and Lorelei became frozen in a way that had nothing to do with the time-dilation. Her breath caught in her throat, as the actual image of Fortuna materialised before her. She was an entity of unimaginable horror, an Old One whose existence warped reality around her. Lorelei''s eyes widened in terror as she took in her patron''s grotesque form. Fortuna''s body was a churning mass of writhing tentacles, each one slick with glistening slime. The tentacles twisted and coiled as if with a life of their own, adorned with chitinous barbs that gleamed menacingly in the flickering light of the petrol tanker''s explosion. Her skin was a nightmarish patchwork of textures, ranging from rough, scale-like protrusions to smooth, almost gelatinous surfaces that pulsated. The eyes ¨C oh, those eyes ¨C were what paralysed Lorelei. Gone was any trace of cornflower blue prettiness, to be replaced by lidless, unblinking horrors scattered haphazardly across its form, each one burning with a phosphorescent light. Each orb seemed to see everything, unravelling Lorelei''s thoughts like a comb running roughly through bed hair. Lorelei''s mind struggled to comprehend Fortuna''s shifting, amorphous nature. It was as if the Goddess''s true form was not bound by the same physical laws that governed reality. She shifted and contorted fluidly, mocking the time/space continuum with ever-changing, grotesque shapes. Eldritch runes - yep, we were in full-on Lovecraft territory here - that shone with sinister energy were etched into her skin As she stood there, helpless and transfixed, Lorelei felt a profound dread. Fortuna''s existence was a corrosive force seeping into her mind and soul, threatening to drive her to the brink of madness. The air around her thrummed, a symphony of cosmic horror that resonated deep within her bones. Then the horror was over, and the lady in the red dress was back. She winked at Lorelei - just the two eyes again now - and smiled. "What''s in it for me? Me and you, babes. We''re going to bring the whole fucking thing down around their ears." And then she laughed. It was a noise far more appropriate to the being Lorelei had just had a glimpse of than a slim blonde-haired woman. Lorelei shivered. Just what was she getting herself into . . . Chapter Forty-One - Shock, shock horror, horror, shock, shock horror. Ill shout myself hoarse ¡°Look, all I¡¯m saying is that a Necromancer without an undead army is . . . basically a goth with an unhealthy fascination with graveyards.¡± Steffan, as he had been for the last few minutes, did his best to ignore Hild. Instead, he bent down and picked up a bloodless, decapitated head, which appeared to be all that remained of the last of his Zombie Cheerleaders. He had been doing his best not to brood too much about what had happened to him over the last few days, but it was hard not to dwell on the death of all your friends, having just witnessed them die for the second time. Especially when the cause of their second demise was you ordering them into a one-sided battle against a huge, poison-spitting spider. Mind you, ''friends'' might have been pushing it a little, though. He assumed they had viewed him as a ''tolerated oddity'', perhaps? Or probably something a little less kind if he was being scrupulously honest. Whatever. Steffan had long accepted he''d been somewhat of an outsider in the Dudley Stars cheerleading squad: being male, bespectacled, and possessing neither strength nor rhythm. However, his mother had insisted he do something to get offline and out of his room, and his brother had pulled a few strings with his university mates to get his ''baby bro'' on the team. Well, not ''on the team'', but in the wider squad. Carrying drinks, ensuring the P. A system was working and the like. Fortunately - well, fortunately for Steffan anyway - this meant that when an articulated lorry had crashed into and through the studio in which the squad were practising - the driver presumably fatally distracted by a sudden wall of text appearing before his eyes - he had been out back, filling water bottles rather than front and centre for the carnage. There had been the briefest of brief moments when he regretted he''d missed his chance to be truck-kunned, but then the sight of mangled bodies and eviscerated torsos convinced him he might have got the better end of the deal . . . When the deep booming voice from the sky had commanded him to "Choose your Class!" the first thing into his head was whether there was a way he''d be able to save his friends. Seeing the mess that had been made of them, the strange notion entered his head that, while becoming a Healer was clearly not going to help, maybe a bit of resurrection action might not be the worst thing? Unfortunately, it did not work out like that. Instead of raising his friends from the dead like some sort of geeky Jesus, he''d ended up stuck with a Class that creeped him out and a bunch of mindless drones that only seemed good for being meat shields. And, after the Shadowweaver Arachnis had finished with them, not even that . . . A heavy hand landed on his shoulder. "Are ye aal reet, lad? They were ya mates, weren''t they? Steffan managed a thin smile for Pete. "No, not really. But they put up with me. Most of the time." Dropping the head, Steffan straightened up and activated the notification that had appeared in the corner of his vision. You have exhausted your current zombie supply. Use your ''Raise the Dead'' Skill to summon more minions and continue your dark reign! Steffan wasn''t sure what he''d been doing thus far could be considered a ''dark reign''. Truly, it was little more than a ''light sprinkle''. However, he couldn''t disagree with the System¡ªnor Hild¡ªthat he had precious little to offer the group without any Zombies at his disposal. "Did ye get owt good on yer level up? That second spider gi'' us a new skill . Lets us use a shield as a weapon! Ah proper luv it!" Steffan moved his lips slightly to understand what Pete was saying to him, then clicked a second notification to see whether he, too, had gained a new Skill. The first thing he noticed was that being part of a party that had killed two Shadowweavers had given him a massive XP boost. Looking around, he could see that everyone in the group was now sitting at Level 6, which wasn''t bad progress at all. Considering. Constantly being thrown into life-and-death struggles against superior foes had some advantages, after all. However, whereas everyone else was playing with their shiny new Skill - Hild seemed to be able to emit a burst of lightning from her skin, some sort of defensive talent, presumably, and Zorrobar had added another fire-based A.O.E. which he was using to reduce groups of abandoned cars to slag. Kris had picked up an offensive skill and was sending little darts of light into the chaos of flame the big mage was creating. Michael and Michelle were nowhere to be seen, so he presumed they were off practising with whatever unholy new ability those two rogues had just been granted. Just a little way off, Chrissy was experimenting with vanishing and reappearing, which suggested it wasn''t just her Class name that was chameleonic. - it did not seem Steffan had any new toys. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. The young Necromancer frowned. Well, that was rather unfair, wasn''t it? Of all of them, he had used up the most resources! Surely, he should have been rewarded with something! But then he realised that whilst he himself might not have ended up with a new Skill, he had some greyed-out options available that would be connected to one of his minions. Of which, at the moment, he did not have any. Pete tapped him on the shoulder - almost knocking the slighter man off his feet - and pointed at the Shadowweaver Arachnis that was still largely in one piece. "One o'' them would be dead useful in wor group, ah reckon. Why divvent ye try an'' summon it?" There was something about the idea of being connected to the massive spider that did not appeal to Steffan whatsoever. However, looking around at the debris of the motorway, he could not see much else that would be worth resurrecting. And, as Hild had kept saying, without Zombies to control, he was less use than a cock in a blender. "Fine," he said reluctantly, pulling the sleeves of his robes up his forearms and moving to stand over the fallen spider. The others stopped with their various experimentations and watched him prepare himself to cast his spell. Thus far, Steffan had refused to add any other Zombies to his army for as long as they had been in a group, so they were interested in seeing what would happen. The Necromancer stood over the lifeless body of the Shadowweaver Arachnis, his hands starting to glow with the sickly green light he most associated with his abilities. Seriously, he couldn''t have chosen to be a Paladin or something like that? Sighing, he began the incantation. What, everyone else could just trigger their abilities with a thought? How lovely, Him? No. He needed a whole song and dance number to be able to . Steffan lowered his voice to a guttural pitch and felt his words begin to resonate with Necromantic power. The air around him thickened, and the others took another step back. There was being interested, and then there was . . . well, being freaked out. An awful chill spread outward, making the hairs on the backs of their necks stand on end. As Steffan uttered the final words of the spell, the green light intensified, enveloping the spider''s corpse. The Arachnis''s body shuddered violently as if resisting his magic. Its legs, once limp and lifeless, twitched grotesquely, the joints cracking with a sickening snap. A memory sparked of the same movements happening to the bodies of his friends the day before, and that nearly broke his concentration. This was the reason he hadn''t used the Skill since. It was hard to see the impact of his magic and not, in the words of Mitchell and Webb, become concerned whether you were one of ''the baddies''. The spider''s exoskeleton began to creak and groan, a chilling sound that echoed down the length of the motorway. Segments of its shell shifted unnaturally, splitting and reforming under the force of Steffan''s will. Black ichor oozed from the cracks, bubbling and hissing as it made contact with the cold concrete. With a wet, tearing noise, the spider''s abdomen inflated and deflated rapidly, as if drawing breath for the first time in death. The myriad of eyes flickered with a pale, greenish glow. He gulped at the sight, then doubled down on pouring out his energy. What he wouldn''t give for the cleanliness of Zorrobar''s fire right now . . . Mandibles clicked together rhythmically, producing a grating, chitinous clatter that sent shivers down the spines of the group. Pete stepped in front of Chrissy, protectively, raising his fists in a pugilistic defensive stance. Steffan didn''t blame him: the transformation was horrifying. Chunks of decayed flesh sloughed off the spider, revealing a sinewy, rotting interior that pulsed with newfound, necrotic vitality. The stench of death, mixed with the acrid smell of decay, filled the air, overwhelming the senses. Finally, with a thunderous crack, the Shadowweaver Arachnis reared up, its body fully reanimated. It let out a ghastly, unearthly screech, a sound that surely came from the depths of the abyss. Then the reanimated spider stood before Steffan, its allegiance now bound to his will. "Fucking hell, mate!" Hild breathed. "That was some seriously dark shit." The Shadowweaver, sensing its master''s irritation at the Valkyrie''s words, skittered around to face Hild. She stepped back, raising her axe in terror at the sight. Steffan clicked his tongue and the creature - which he decided he would call Creepy-Crawler Mk. Dead - settled down. "Are ye sure ye''ve got it completely unda yer control, Steffan?" Pete said, not dropping his fists. Steffan shrugged. "As much as I did with my . . . with the Cheerleaders." Then, remembering his notification, he looked at the options available. "Hmm, it seems I can choose one of CCMD''s Skills to become active. What do you think will be most useful?" "Cee-cee?" asked Chrissy. "CCMD. My Spider. It can either have , or back on. What do we reckon?" Michael popped into being next to him, his sister seconds behind. "No need for me and sis have got sneak attack covered. A bit more D.P.S. would be useful, though. And that spit attack didn''t fuck about. Go for the poison one." No one else disagreed, so the Necromancer assigned that Skill to the giant spider, which, he was momentarily annoyed to see, had scaled down from Level 10 to his own Level 6. He wasn''t sure why that narked him so much. He just felt that when you took out three Level 10 Shadowweavers, it was a bit rude that the one you summoned back ended up being a Level 6. It was like when you unlocked a boss on Street Fighter. An opponent it had taken weeks to be able to defeat turned out to hit softer than a week-old kitten when you got a chance to control it. Hang on. Three Shadowweavers? Steffan''s mind whirled. Lorelei had kited the one away, hadn''t she? He spun around, looking in the direction of a suspiciously brightly smoking petrol tanker. "Does anyone know if Lorelei is okay?" Chapter Forty-Two - Return of the Guide If Lorelei had heard Steffan''s question, she would very much not have known how to answer it. The last couple of days had not been a joy, all things considered. Although it seemed like a lifetime ago that she had broken up with the Prick with the prick - with all the attendant ''becoming jobless and homeless'' issues that had come with that little act of defiance - it was, in reality, not that long at all since all she had been was a Director of H.R. for a middling law firm, complete with the gnawing guilt that came with fucking your married boss. To have moved from that to her current situation via the method of - what seemed to her - a fairly bungled attempt to integrate her planet into a broader galactic System was quite the psychological handbrake turn to take on board. Lorelei was sure some people would have taken all this in their stride¡ªgrabbed a hatchet and gone wild, as it were¡ªbut the effect of this life-changing whiplash was, emotional dampening aside, starting to take a toll.
***Help Message***
I''m not being funny, but if it turns out I managed to talk myself out of seventeen versions of corporate bollocking shit just to have the opportunity to listen to you go all ''woe is me'' for however long it is before something finally wipes you, I am not going to be very impressed at all.
A broad smile broke out on Lorelei''s face as she read those words. In a world where everything had gone insane, there was something ridiculously comforting about the return of her Guide''s snippiness and ill-will to her notifications. "Guide, you''re back!"
***Manifestly Obvious Help Message demonstrating my continued existence ***
"What happened? It read like you were getting in serious trouble because of what I made for Hild?"
***Help Message***
Don''t flatter yourself, buttercup. Sure, you choosing to ignore the slew of messages I sent you begging you not to craft something so obviously integration-breaking was the cherry on top of the giant, putrefying manure cake. However, there''s more than enough bullshit flying around on this plant for your inconsiderate behaviour to have become just background diarrhoea.
Lorelei assumed the shitstorm the Guide was referring to had something to do with the issues surrounding the encounter she''d just had with her patron. There was faint pressure in her head as if Fortuna had wagged a mental finger at her for thinking about mentioning her presence. We''re going to bring the whole fucking thing down around their ears, the Goddess of Luck had said. Lorelei shivered at the memory of those words, as much as the terrifying glimpse she had of Fortuna in the flesh, as it were.
***Help Message***
Fucking hell, toots. Did you just solo a Level 10 Shadowweaver Arachnis?
Lorelei looked around at the remains of the creature that had been burned to a crisp in the explosion. Of course, she thought, I went up in flames a second later. But, technically, I suppose that counts as my kill . . .
***Perplexed Message***
Your logs make no sense here at all. It looks like you somehow activated immediately after being zeroed. But that shouldn''t be possible . . .
Lorelei held her breath, wondering what would happen if the Guide identified Fortuna''s meddling in what had happened. From everything the Goddess had told her, if the A.I. chose to blow the whistle to the powers that be - and Lorelei still had no real conception of what those ''powers'' actually were - then there was every likelihood there would be some catastrophic repercussions for the remaining population of Earth. "You ever seen a group of Alpha Hunters deal with an epic Risen infestation?" Fortuna had said. Not having any idea what at least four words in that sentence meant, Lorelei had shaken her head. "Well, it''s fucking brutal. Flames everywhere. Salt sowed in literal and metaphorical fields. Everything in a gigamile radius exterminated with extreme prejudice. It''s some seriously scorched-planet shit." "Okay . . ." "Well, that is what will happen to this world if the A.I tips anyone the wink that an Old One is getting in on the ground level of a new integration. My plan to break this fucking System will only work if I get to operate on the Q.T. So, under no circumstances can you allow it to figure out I''m still around. As far as the Guide needs to be aware, I was here to have a look at you, laid the smackdown on it for not letting you do your thing without interference, and then fucked back off out of it. If it learns I''m still about - especially after it''s just got reamed out for all the weird shit going down - it will squeal like a field full of porcine sacrifices."
***Indignant ''look at me'' Message***
Are you ignoring me, sugartits? I asked how you managed to activate the luckiest of lucky ''Hail Marys'' whilst being rendered down to candle wax.
"I don''t know," Lorelei managed, "just lucky, I guess." There was a pause during which more than a few beads of sweat burst out on Lorelei''s forehead. Trying to carry on as if nothing integration-breaking was going on, she casually started to flick through the slew of notifications the death of the Shadowweaver had caused. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. "Guide, what does it mean that I can ''upgrade'' an existing skill?"
***Help Message***
Ah, I''d forgotten what a helpless Bambi you were. I am starting to look at my time in the Interrogation Module as a golden age. You don''t get a new Skill for your latest level-up, but you do get the option to improve one of the ones you already have. For most people, this feels like a cop-out. But considering how spectacularly fucking nightmarish your Skills are, this had decent potential for you.
Lorelei pulled up her stats sheet, noticing a decent improvement to her stats from reaching Level 7 - soloing a Level 10 is no small deal, babes.
Lorelei Norton: Fortuna''s Herald
Level 7 Experience 423/1400 Health 390/390 Mana 320/320
Primary Stats
Strength 13 Agility 26 (+3 Gloves of the Seer, +10% Veil of Vindication) Stamina 18 (+2 Cloak of the Wanderer) Intellect 34 (+5 Gloves of the Seer, +2 Double Headed Coin of Fate) Spirit 24 (5% from Vigilante title + 3 from Earrings of the Lucky Gambler)
Secondary Stats
Critical Strike 12% (2% from Whispering Gloves of the Seer + 1% from Double-Headed Coin of Fate + 2% from Earrings of the Lucky Gambler Haste 10% (+ 1% from Earrings of the Lucky Gambler) Mastery 6% Versatility 5%
Skills
Lucky Strike (Passive) Lv1: Sometimes you hit, sometimes you miss, and sometimes you accidentally help the enemy. It''s a surprise!
Coin Toss Conundrum (Active) Lv1: Flip a coin to decide your next move. Heads, you unleash a devastating attack; tails, you heal your enemy. Bonus points for dramatic mid-air coin flipping. Mana Cost: 50. Cooldown: 2 mins.
Random Resilience (Active) Lv1: You might shrug off a dragon''s breath or trip over a pebble. Life''s a lottery! Mana Cost: 100% of available pool. Cooldown: 24 hours.
Charmed Life (Active) Lv1: You do seem to spend a lot of time getting hurt. Have a heal skill. But, to make it interesting, let''s randomise how much healing it does. Oh, and just for shits and giggles, it will give you a random status effect for 2 mins. 30 M.P. cost. No cooldown.
The Old Swapperoonie (Active) Lv1: Wah! Why is all my luck bad? Wah! For someone with a luck-based Class, you don''t half moan a lot about random outcomes . . . Once per day, you can offload all the negative consequences of your abilities onto someone else. The timer does not reset if your poor patsy dies. 200 mana cost. 24 hours cooldown.
Rogue is the Best of the X-Men (Active) Lv1: Fortuna''s Herald channels her inner Rogue to temporarily steal the abilities of someone within the active range of the Skill every hour. Only one Skill will be taken in each hour-long cycle. The stolen ability lasts for 15 minutes and has a 30% chance - each casting of the stolen ability - to backfire, giving the Skill the opposite of the intended effect.
Inventory
Double-Headed Coin of Fate (Nerfed) Cloak of the Wanderer (+ 2 Stamina) Whispering Gloves of the Seer (+5 Intellect, +3, +2% Critical Strike) Earrings of the Lucky Gambler: (+3 Spirit, Increases Critical Strike chance by 2%, and Haste by 1%) Skinning Knife 8x[20 Leather Offcut] 8 [Charred Steak] 7 [Charred Steak - poisoned]. Poisoned status is hidden.
25 Gold. 27 Silver. 8 Bronze
Professions
Jack of All Trades
  • Skinning - Lvl 28
  • Cooking (Life in Your Own Hands) ¨C Lvl 9
  • Leatherworking ¨C Lvl 1
  • Campfire - Novice
Talents
Spoilsport: Increases the chance of a positive by 5%. Fortune''s Favor: Allies within a 10-meter radius gain a 5% increase in their Critical Strike chance when near you.
Titles
Kobolds Worst Nightmare: 35% damage against Kobolds One Cold Bitch: Frost Resistance: +10% Vigilante: Spirit +5%
Underneath that wall of text, Lorelei could see the options she had available for a skill level-up. Skill Level-Up Options for Player Lorelei Norton Option 1: Lucky Strike (Passive) - Improved Lucky Strike Sometimes, you just have to trust that the universe is on your side. With an improved knack for hitting the mark, Lorelei¡¯s luck seems almost... deliberate. Just don¡¯t get cocky, kid. Increases the chance of positive outcomes by 10% (up from 5%) and reduces the chance of negative outcomes by 5%. Option 2: Coin Toss Conundrum (Active) - Enhanced Coin Toss Conundrum Why leave things to chance? With an enhanced coin toss, even your enemies might start rooting for tails. Either way, it¡¯s a win-win... mostly. Positive outcomes now deal an additional 50% damage. Negative outcomes are now 5% less likely to occur but 20% more humorously disastrous when they do. Option 3: Charmed Life (Active) - Superior Charmed Life Life''s full of ups and downs, but with a charmed life, the downs aren¡¯t quite so bad. Maybe you¡¯ll even get a boost from the chaos! The random status effect lasts for 1 minute (down from 2 minutes) and has a 50% chance to grant a positive buff instead of a negative one. "Any thoughts?" Lorelei asked, still hoping to keep the Guide focused on the present rather than what had occurred with Fortuna.
***Help Message***
I have so many thoughts it would liquify your puny brain if I were to elucidate even 1% of them. On this specific and limited issue, though, I think I would feel honour-bound to point out that would - if you could be a little more sure it was not likely to cause you massive problems - have the potential to be helpful. Parties can always use more healing.
That made sense. Lorelei was disappointed that she hadn''t seen anything to stop being quite such a ball ache, but if these were her options, then a little more general survivability would help her feel more useful to her team. She had just triggered the upgrade when a giant, decomposing spider appeared before her, rearing up as if preparing to strike. There was just enough time to contemplate the need for a change of underwear when she heard Steffan''s voice. "It''s okay guys, she''d alive!" The spider dropped down to the floor, letting her see the rest of her group waiting a short distance up the motorway. With as much grace as she could summon following her fright, Lorelei trotted back towards her party. Chapter Forty-Three - The ghost of a steam train echoes down my track bound for nowhere Lorelei had experienced more joyfyl reunions. Sure, Chrissy and Pete were pleased to see she was still alive, and Kris even gave her a cheeky wink¡ªwhich did something particularly interesting to her insides¡ªbut the rest of them? Well, if they were not outwardly hostile, they were certainly a little cool. "Why the fuck has she shot up more levels than we did?" Okay, so Hild was maybe a touch openly hostile.
***Advice Message***
You know, I think I''ve gone right off this bitch. I thought giving her the Hold a Grudge Title would be funny, but the constant carping is just a buzzkill, isn''t it? Tell you what, you should kill her. I''ll hold your hair.
Lorelei ignored the Guide''s words and did her best to keep her voice polite when answering the Valkyrie. "I think because I soloed a spider away from the rest of you, I ended up gaining all the XP from the kill."
***Poking the Bear Message***
You should let her know that because you were present in the group for just enough of the damage being dealt to the other Shadowweavers, you got a share of all that XP, too. That''ll really piss her off.
"Well, that''s bullshit! You didn''t kill it yourself, did you? That fucking petrol tanker blew up and wiped it out! We had to kill three of those fucking things face-to-face. Shit!" Hild shook her head at the unfairness of it all. "Life''s just so fucking easy for you, isn''t it? I guess it''s something that at least you didn''t nick any of our XP gains from those kills."
***Tell her. Tell her. Tell her. ***
Lorelei had a vague memory of a sense of loss when her Guide had been temporarily switched off: she was now regarding this as a Golden Age. "Actually, if you run the numbers on the XP share, we have all received . . . " Steffan began. But Lorelei could see where that was going and dived straight back in. "Anyway, it''s not like I''m that far ahead of you, is it? You''re all Level 6 now, and one level probably doesn''t make that much difference in the grand scheme of things, does it?" Lorelei didn''t need to be the avatar of the Goddess of Luck to realise that the moment she said these words, the Guide''s ticker tape would snap into life.
***Incoming Infodump!***
That is not entirely true, luscious lips. You see, due to the speed in which the most powerful beings in most realms of reality can level - I mean, not on this fucking dump of a planet, but go with me on this - it was felt that it would be sensible to use an early level - Level 6 in this case - as a plateau stage to help sort out the larva from the pupa. That means anyone reaching Level 7 moves out of the ''stabilisers'' stage of things and can roam free. So, Level 7 isn¡¯t just another notch on your experience belt; it¡¯s practically a metamorphosis. Think of it as the difference between being a virgin on prom night and a MILF on cougar patrol.
Is there any way we can dial down the sexuality of the metaphors? Lorelei thought silently. You seem to have come back from interrogation a touch . . . repressed.
***''Fair point, well made'' Message***
Okay. Reading that last one back, I might be trying a bit hard. Sorry about that. How about the difference between being a Percy Jackson Fan and reading The Odyssey in the original Greek?
Sure. Whatever. Lorelei was doing her best to read the scrolling message and to try to keep up with the discussion over the next steps for the group. It appeared they were moving out soon. But no one seemed to be able to agree on the direction.
***All Eyes on Me, Message!***
First off, you¡¯ve crossed what is known as the Arcane Threshold. At Level 6, you were barely scratching the surface of magical prowess. Your fireballs - should have had any of your own and not just the ones you stole from the fat mage - were more like candle flames, and your healing spells were the equivalent of a mom¡¯s kiss on a scraped knee. But now? Now, you will start to be able to conjure infernos that make dragons jealous and heal wounds with a mere lick of your lips. Welcome to the big leagues, toots. Stolen story; please report.
Well, that didn''t seem so bad, Lorelei thought. And it did make sense of the slaughter she had witnessed at the Botanical Gardens. If Level 7 was where the scaling of strength slipped up a notch, it explained how just a couple of higher-level party crashers had been able to wreak such destruction.
***Moving right along Message***
Did I mention the gear upgrades? Trust me, this is where shit gets real. At Level 6, your armour was basically tinfoil, and your weapons were about as effective as a limp dick at a . . . as a wooden spoon in a fire-eating competition. But hitting Level 7 opens up the glorious Gear Upgrade Extravaganza. Suddenly, you¡¯re eligible for items previously locked behind mysterious vendor dialogues and cryptic quest rewards. That Double-Headed Coin of Fate? Say hello to ¡°Stormbringer, Coin of the Eternal Tempest.¡± Your tragic robe armour? Now it¡¯ll be all ¡°Dragonhide Vestments of Impenetrable Might.¡± Prepare to look, if not precisely feel, like the hero you¡¯re supposed to be.
As she read those words, Lorelei became aware of a series of purple dots showing up on her Map. She could now see Vendors, apparently. Lorelei chose not to share that information with the rest of the group. Hild was already staring daggers at her and Michelle . . . well, the Veiled Stalker had actual daggers . . . Lorelei scrolled onwards.
***And now for the good shit Message***
But let¡¯s cut to the chase and talk Skills. At Level 6, your skills were, let¡¯s be honest, mediocre at best. You''re still alive, so kudos for that, but at Level 7, we start talking Skill Evolution. Your once humble ¡°Quick Strike¡± transforms into ¡°Blinding Speed Assault,¡± a flurry of attacks so fast your enemies won¡¯t know what hit them. ¡°Minor Healing Touch¡± becomes ¡°Divine Restoration,¡± capable of bringing allies back from the brink of death. Those who get past Level 6 will realise that they''re not just levelling up but evolving into something far superior.
Lorelei nodded at that. to had been a decent enough upgrade. If there were further evolutions available down the road, that would be cool.
***The Great Stat Leap***
Finally, let¡¯s discuss stats. Level 6 to Level 7 isn¡¯t just a minor bump; it¡¯s a quantum leap. Your Strength, Agility, Intellect¡ªall those lovely numbers you are getting intimately familiar with¡ªget a substantial conceptual boost. You¡¯ll feel it in every throw of your coin, every spell cast, and every dodge roll. It''s the difference between getting by and dominating the battlefield. And by ''dominate'', I obviously mean ''run away and barely survive'', but some of this info is copied and pasted from info for remotely competent players, and I can''t be arsed to parse it out.
"So, what do you reckon, Lorelei?" Lorelei grimaced as she realised she hadn''t been listening to what Zorrobar had been saying. All the eyes in the group were locked on her, some expectant, some resigned. "Sorry, just run it by me again." Pete was shaking his head. "Hild thinks we should cut wor losses, gan back te the toon centre and try a different route te the cathedral. Michelle''s in agreeance, an'' Michael''s backin'' her up coz he''s a reet knacka. Steffan''s not sure either way, but the rest of us think that''s pure shite. We''ve come this far, an'' want te follow the motorway till the next junction. So, me, Kris, and Zorrobar are Team Press-on. Hild, Michael, an'' Michelle are Team Track-Back. Steffan''s Team Indecisive. We need ye te be the decider." Lorelei moved her lips as she made sense of what the Tank had said. "What about Chrissy?" She turned to the Chameleon Courtesan, who was still wearing her Robin Hood costume. "You didn''t vote?" The young woman shrugged. "I don''t think it matters. We have a quest to reach Lichfield Cathedral. No matter which way we go, the System is going to do its best to make that journey a nightmare. There''s no ''good choice here''. Whichever one we pick will be tough, so I don''t see the point in arguing." "Can I just point out that was what I was saying!" Steffan whined. I wasn''t just being ''indecisive''!" "Whatever, go play with your spider." Michael''s voice was dripping with condescension. And poison. Most definitely poison. "But none of that matters until we hear what our glorious Level 7 thinks, does it?" Hild added. "What words of wisdom will we receive from Fortuna''s Herald?"
***Help Message***
Trust me, we can make it look like an accident . . .
Lorelei dismissed the message and looked both ways down the motorway. On the one hand, she could understand the impetus to retreat and seek an alternative route to the cathedral. Where there were three hidden foes, there were more than likely going to be others. In fact, hadn''t Fortuna said there were a couple of Level 10s lying in wait just up ahead? That would get gnarly. But on the other hand, was there something self-defeating about getting this far and then turning around and retracing steps? She couldn''t help but think that Chrissy (and Steffan) were right that whichever way they chose to approach the cathedral was likely to be a challenge. To think that there was an ''easy'' mode they could turn on was simply for the birds. "Look," she said, "turning to face the small group, "I agree with all sides here. Ideally, it would be great to retrace our steps and try a different approach. But what Chrissy says makes a lot of sense. This quest is supposed to be hard - I don''t think we''ll find a road to the cathedral with no bad guys on it. We''ve just managed to take out four Level 10 monsters - " "Some of us worked harder for that than others," muttered Hild. "- and we''ve come out the other side stronger than we were before. I think we just keep going the way we are, take all the precautions we can and see the journey as the System''s way of helping us level up. What do you think?" There wasn''t much more to be said after that. Hild grumbled a little but was happy enough to take the lead when they began trudging their way back through the upturned cars and burned-out vans. Whatever enmity she felt towards Lorelei didn''t appear to get in the way of playing her role for the team. As long as that continued, Lorelei thought she could put up with moaning. So, they walked on, seeking to put as much distance between themselves and the remnants of that battle as possible. Hild and Pete took the lead, with Steffan''s spider coming up the rear. Just as the sun began dipping down, casting long shadows around the walkers, Lorelei thought she could just make out a willowy Lady in Red, giving her the thumbs up. Chapter Forty-Four - One things for sure, maybe I got mine, but youll all get yours A Shadow Weaver and a Dwarf Axeman sat in silence on the hard shoulder of the M6 motorway. Okay. So that is not exactly a classic opening line, but let''s run with it. If either of the two were currently in possession of a sense of humour, they might have ruefully muttered that it hadn''t been all that long since they''d been in almost the exact same position after their ancient Ford Mondeo finally gave up the ghost. But japes, jokes, and general tomfoolery were very much not on the cards right now. Of course, Sylvie thought, pre-integration, they''d just been a hairdresser and an unemployed guy who did . . . something with computers. She frowned at that, glancing over at Rupert as if looking at his gormless face would help her remember what it was he had done for a living before all this shit went down. But no. ''Something with computers'' was about the best she could come up with. Fuck it. She hadn''t been interested then, and she certainly wasn''t interested now. There were far more interesting things to occupy her mind. There was the briefest of moments when the weight, scope and horror of her behaviour over the last few days pressed down upon her soul - but then something shifted in her mind, and all guilt drifted away on a cloud of unconcern. After all, they might not have been quite wading through rivers of blood, but neither had they been keeping their feet dry on Altruism Beach, either. After everything she had seen recently, she doubted whether anyone could have made it to Level 12 by playing nice. They had simply done what needed to be done in order to progress. Well, at least she was Level 12. Rupert, for some reason, had stalled at Level 10 and wasn''t he being quite the little pissant about it? It seemed odd to her that someone who had actively chosen to become a Dwarf should be displaying short-man syndrome, but hey, it would not be the first time in their relationship that Sylvie found Rupert''s ways strange and mysterious. In fact, she was probably going to have to kill him. This wasn''t the first time during their relationship that thought had popped into Sylvie''s head. It was all well and good to choose a fuckbuddy guaranteed to cause Mummy and Daddy heart palpitations, but it was quite another actually to have to live with them. When the novelty of it all had worn off, even the way he breathed irritated her . . . So, the prospect of bloody murder had been more than an occasional visitor to her mind. But it was certainly novel for her to have the means, method and strength to achieve it. "It''s fucking bullshit, I tell you!" Ah, the bearded moaner was whining again. "What is?" she said. It was - all things considered - pretty impressive that she managed to keep the crushing weight of her boredom with him out of her voice. "I have to work for my XP. Like proper fight for it. Up close and . . . proper." Rupert waved [Grumblecleave] - the axe he had been so proud of purchasing back at the Mystical Market - in what he obviously thought was a manly way. All Sylvie could focus upon was that if she were still tragic enough to be bearing Rare gear, she''d be a little more circumspect about displaying it. "All you do is sit here, and the experience just pours in within you having to do anything for it! It''s fucking bullshit!" Sylvie wrinkled her nose, irritated that he was actually making a somewhat valid point. The massacre of all those noobs that had tried to hide in the Cricket Stadium had pushed her Class past the Level 10 threshold, at which stage the Skill became available. From that moment, she''d been summoning a new Shadowweaver Arachnis whenever she had enough mana, leaving them to hunt out some unwilling victims. Currently, eight of the gorgeous little monsters were lurking around in the darkness, and the XP had simply been rolling in. Much to Ruper''s chagrin. The only downside was that there didn''t seem to be an auto-loot function for those her spiders killed, so they had to spend their time physically locating the bodies if they were interested in coins as well as XP. "Look, dear, I''m sorry your Class is turning out to be everything you hoped. I am sure there will come a time when being short, hairy and belligerent will be exactly what is required for a particular situation. Perhaps we will need to negotiate with a group of Scotsmen, for example. However, for now, me being able to leave a bunch of deadly . . ." Sylvie''s voice trailed off as something popped in her stomach - like every muscle in her rigorously maintained six-pack suddenly exploded into shards of shrapnel. She would have screamed in agony, but the shock of the pain drove all the air out of her lungs, leaving her gasping like the freshest of servings in a sushi restaurant. The pain was unlike anything she had ever experienced in her life - and she''d experimented with self-waxing. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. Sylvie collapsed to the ground, writhing around, leaving Rupert staring about for what hidden enemy had attacked them. But, as far as he was able to tell, their stretch of the motorway was completely empty. Almost delirious with pain, Sylvie noticed her notifications were blinking and desperate to do anything else but suffer, she flicked it open.
Your summons - Shadowweaver Arachnis - has been destroyed.
Damage Transfer: 10% of Player''s total HP
Status Effect: Soul Wound
One of your creations is no more. You experience the magnified pain of the final moment of their passing for 10 seconds.
7/8 Shadowweaver Arachnis remain
Unable to speak whilst under the power of the status effect, Sylvie simply rolled on the ground, digging trenches in the asphalt with the strength of her Level 12 nails. But the second the countdown ended, the pain was gone as if it had never been. "What the fuck was that!" Sylvie stood, hands clasping her midriff, certain her guts must have been ripped free of her body and turned into a pinata. Rupert looked back at her blankly. It would be unfair to say he had found some pleasure in her discomfort. Entirely true. But still unfair. "What happened to you?" "Someone killed one of my spiders." "And I guess that hurt? Poor you." Sylvie gave him the finger and summoned her Guide. Thus far, she had found it to be worse than useless, but she assumed there would be an explanation in there for what had just happened. From what she could tell, the System was great at explaining what had just occurred but not so much at warning about the consequences of actions. Yes, there it was.
***Help Message***
Be aware that should any of the creatures summoned be dispatched, commensurate damage will be caused to the Player. Extreme caution should be used when maximising the number of summons; damage is cumulative and can lead to a wipe.
"Fuck''s sake!" Sylvie''s face paled. That would have been the sort of information that would have been helpful before she threw eight of her spiders out into the world. If it wasn''t such a dry and passionless entity, she could swear that it sometimes felt like the Guide was trying to kill her. "What''s wrong?" "I''ve got seven more of the little bastards out there. If someone has killed one of them, then there''s a chance . . ." Sylvie collapsed to the floor again, this time soiling herself as great shudders wracked her body, her back arching and hands clenching tight. Rupert cocked his head to one side, watching her spasm with a somewhat morbid interest. Since the deaths of Liam and Trevor in the alley outside of the Mystical Market, it had just been the two of them. Everyone else they had come across since was either too low a level to bother with - in which case they had relieved them of their money, their gear and their lives - or too high a level to risk approaching. And he was fed up with it. Rupert knew Sylvie had always felt superior to him. As if, somehow, having a ''daddy dearest'' desperate to pick up all the bills for his ''sugarplum'' meant her shit didn''t stink or something. Well, looking at her now - or, more pertinently, smelling her - he was happy to report that clearly wasn''t true. In those first few hours of the integration, it had been helpful to have someone around to have your back¡ªand to tell him, Liam, and Trevor what to do, to be honest. Agile and rapid adaptation to new circumstances was not really in their wheelhouse. Punching people until they stopped moving on the other hand . . . The four of them had definitely torn it up through the early levels. However, ever since someone had fucked up his two mates, things had been on the slide. The fact that - since she had been able to make these fucking spiders - Sylvie could level up without ever needing to come into contact with other players was hardly an ideal choice of companion for someone who had all these cool buffs for being in melee combat. In short, Rupert felt the usefulness of their partnership had come to its logical conclusion. The only thing that had stayed his hand from cutting the bitch''s fucking head off and wearing it as a hat, was the abiding and realistic concern that she''d probably be able to rip him a new one. Thus, watching her whimper and moan right now was hitting him right in the feels. Raising [Grumblecleave] - and mentally crossing his fingers a Rare weapon would have enough oomph about it to pass through her neck - he prepared to formally dissolve their partnership. But then the status effect faded, and Sylvie''s eyes flicked open, and the moment passed. Well, at least this moment had passed, Rupert thought. After all, once you''d made the decision to kill someone, it wasn''t really a ladder you then climbed back down. He would wait for another opportunity to present itself. "You okay?" "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." Sylvie stumbled to her feet, dismissing the notifications about the further three of her spiders that had been destroyed. During the last two days, she hadn''t taken so much of a papercut injury in her smooth ascent through the Levels. To suddenly have lost nearly half of her HP - quite without the excruciating effect of ''Soul Wound'' - was having somewhat of an impact on her. And that impact was rage. "Get your fucking axe. We need to find who is killing my fucking spiders." Rupert didn''t need to be told twice. Chapter Forty-Five - Zorrobar might only have one match but he can make an explosion "¡¯Av ye e¡¯er bin on this ¡®ere stretch o¡¯ t¡¯ motorw¡¯y afore?" Lorelei shook her head in reply to Pete. Compared to the patched, cracked, and shabby roadway they''d been travelling along for the last few hours, they had just crossed over to a section that was a breath of fresh air. It was a smooth, wide ribbon of tarmac where¡ªeven a few days after the end of the world¡ªthe air still smelt faintly of smugness and diesel. Their landscape had changed entirely from the packed rows of abandoned cars to an eerily quiet, empty space, which was all very disconcerting. "No, mate. I''ve always thought that no matter how short life is, it''s never short enough to use a fucking toll road." And wasn''t that the truth? Lorelei had never understood how so many of her fellow Brummies had fallen for the supreme confidence trick of the ''option'' to pay for the privilege of not sitting in traffic with the rest of the hoi polloi. After all, was there not anything less English than paying extra to get somewhere marginally faster. It was literal and metaphorical queue jumping, and the very thought of using it had made her teeth itch. Lorelei could even picture the conversation in the planning meeting: "You know what this part of the West Midlands needs? A toll road. A motorway for those who are simply too important for the good old regular M6. We¡¯ll be all creative here, calling it something snazzy and memorable like the M6 Toll. Think about it! It''ll be like a VIP lounge! But for cars. And asphalt. And existential dread and fundamental self-loathing. But mostly cars!" And, somehow, it had been approved. For the cost of a sizeable coffee order, millennial Brummies could suddenly avoid the rite of passage of sitting in a queue of lorries and hatchbacks, all while contemplating the fact that they were paying twice for a road they''d already funded through taxes. Yay for capitalism! As someone who had come up with more than their fair share of loophole finding corporate wheezes, Lorelei had to, grudgingly, admit it was a stroke of genius. Why sit in traffic for free when you could pay for the privilege of doing it slightly further away from everyone else? The group had first realised they''d entered this far more upmarket part of their journey when they walked through the toll booths, quaint little reminders of a time when human interaction was unavoidable. Lorelei had always wondered at the oddity of their existence. You''d paid for speed and convenience, only to be delayed by a minimum-wage slave who took your money with all the warmth of a troll giving you access to their bridge. Entertainingly and somewhat on the nose, it was right here that the System had decided to place two giant Level 8 [Toll-Both Ogres] right in their way. "What do you think?" Kris asked, looking at the pair of dark green behemoths. "Can we take them?" Lorelei hadn''t answered straight away. It wasn''t that she didn''t think they would be able to handle the monsters - for all the interpersonal issues the group was having, they were turning into a pretty decent unit - it was that there was a prickling sense of doom on the edge of her notice that was thoroughly distracting her. Since passing into Level 7, Lorelei had noted that the range of her Map and the details it revealed were much improved. Thus, as well as the new Vendor dots, she couldn''t help but notice a couple of red dots with a gold outline flittering around on the very outside of the circle. "Guide, would I be right in thinking that whoever those guys are, they are following us?"
***Help Message***
Hang on. Give me a moment. Let me just take a second away from keeping the entire civilisation on this fucking rock ticking over to zoom in on your position and identify the motivations of two individuals in your near vicinity. No worries at all. I''ll get right on that.
Lorelei waited longer than she really should have before realising that no further information would be spooling along her ticker tape notifications. "You''re not going to help me, are you?"
***Thank you for your message. The Guide is temporarily not home to your bullshit inanity right now. Normal service will be resumed when you stop being such a needy little bitch***
Lorelei once again reflected that the period of enforced absence of her Guide had not really been so bad after all. But the next time she looked at her Map, the dots were gone and - considering what was in front of them - it felt much more like a post-Troll encounter problem. The quiet of the group''s surroundings was only broken by the distant hum of motorway lights and the occasional rustle of wind through the sparse trees. Oh, and the repeated, bone-chilling roars from the two massive Trolls stomping and snorting in the middle of the toll booths, their grotesque forms casting massive shadows under the flickering lights. "Okay. We know the drill." Lorelei said, her voice steady. If the group were going to treat her as their leader - even grudgingly - then she would play up to the part. "Hild, Steffan, Chrissy, Zorrobar¡ªyou¡¯re with me. Pete, Kris, Michelle, Michael¡ªyou take the other one. No heroics. Keep it clean and simple. Chrissy, you''ll be healing for us, so - you know - suit up." This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. The first group formed up quickly, each member slipping into their roles with far more precision than might have been expected. Even the sight of Chrissy disrobing from her Robin Hood costume and slipping into something medically slutty didn''t slow them down. Well, not much. Hild, as if determined to refocus the attention on herself rather than the stripper, yelled and charged forward, her axe held high in two hands. The first Troll staggered forward to meet her, towering and brutish and swung its massive club with a bellowing roar. Hild raised her axe just in time, the force of the blow reverberating through her entire body. The impact sent shockwaves down her arms, but she stood firm, gritting her teeth against the pain. ¡°Any time you fucking want, Steffan!¡± Hild shouted, summoning her self-heal ability to mitigate some of the damage. Steffan eyes glowed, and with a flashy flick of his wrist, he unleashed CCMD to skitter its way across the asphalt, spitting poison into the Troll''s face. The creature roared in fury, its movements hampered by its momentary vision loss. Steffan¡¯s face contorted with concentration as he channelled his mana, using the injury to draw the life force from the Troll, flooding it into his only remaining summons, even as he incrementally weakened the creature. The Troll, enraged by the spider''s assault, thrashed violently, smashing blindly into CCMD''s carapace. The spider shrieked and tried to retreat, Hild covering it with a , her strength barely enough to divert the creature¡¯s attention. However, the force of her blow staggered the Troll, giving the Fire Mage the opening he needed. Zorrobar''s hands wreathed in flame. ¡°¡± the big man intoned, releasing a torrent of fire that surged towards the Troll. The flames engulfed the creature, searing its flesh and filling the air with the stench of burning meat. The Troll howled in agony, its regenerative abilities struggling to cope with the continuous onslaught of fire. Zorrobar¡¯s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he maintained the inferno, his magic ensuring the Troll¡¯s wounds remained grievous and raw. However, despite the combined assaults, Lorelei knew that the Troll was not to be underestimated. It lashed out wildly, its club smashing into the ground and sending shards of asphalt flying. One of these fragments struck Steffan, knocking him to the ground. Chrissy narrowly avoided a sweeping blow that would have crushed her had she been a second slower, throwing out spells that may or may not have been intended to heal those around her.
***Help Message***
Not for nothing, but there''s more to healing than just having the Class and crossing your fingers. This group is lucky enough to have someone who can change their role in the team faster than she used to make dudes throw cash at her. Maybe, I don''t know, bother giving her some training sometime? Just my two-pennyworth.
Lorelei grimaced and dismissed the message. She held her coin tight, preparing to get involved if things took a turn for the worse. The Troll¡¯s resilience was genuinely monstrous, its rage giving it strength and ferocity beyond that of anything they''d fought so far. Then Hild gave an answering roar, pressing her own attack, her axe flashing with an activated Skill as she struck at the Troll¡¯s exposed flesh. The blade bit deep, but the creature¡¯s regenerative abilities were tenacious, knitting flesh back together even as it was torn apart. The Troll swung its club again, catching Hild off guard and sending her sprawling. The impact had crashed into her chest piece - which was probably the only reason she was still alive - and she struggled to rise, her breath coming in ragged gasps. ¡°Fuck''s sake! Where''s the fucking DPS!¡± Hild gasped, forcing herself forward, retaunting to regain the monster''s attention. Zorrobar, smarting more than a little that he was letting the side down, redoubled his efforts. ¡° ,¡± he said, channelling one of his most potent Skills. Lorelei couldn''t help but think the Fire Mage seemed to have lucked out when it came to fiery-death options. She''d be feeling quite jealous if she didn''t also know he was squishier than a year-old marshmallow. She fingered her coin, desperate to get involved and help, but knowing if she picked up a negative roll right now, that could be game over. A massive column of fire erupted from Zorrobar''s hands, engulfing the Troll completely. The heat was intense, the flames so bright they illuminated the entire motorway. The Troll screeched, its flesh charring and blackening under the relentless inferno. Zorrobar¡¯s face was a mask as he poured all his mana into the spell, knowing that failure was not an option. Steffan, regaining his footing, resummoned CCMD. It leapt forward, clawing at the Troll¡¯s chest, its legs weakening the creature¡¯s vitality further. Steffan''s mana pulsed through the air, the necromantic energy around the ex-Shadowweaver Arachnis sapping the Troll¡¯s strength and feeding it into Steffan¡¯s own reserves. Unfortunately, such was the strength of the fiery attack, the Troll momentarily lost focus on Hild and charged straight for Zorrobar. The fire mage, exhausted from his continuous casting, was far too slow to react. The club connected with a sickening thud, sending Zorrobar flying across the motorway. He landed hard, his robes singed, and his breath knocked out of him. Chrissy ran over to him, pressing her hands on a chest wound, which was pretty much the dictionary definition of cataclysmic. ¡°Zorrobar!¡± Hild screamed, embedding her axe in the Troll''s back and re-upping her taunt. The Troll, its strength waning, staggered forward under her strike and then turned to face the Valkyrie, its eyes filled with a mix of fury and desperation. It raised its club again, but this time, it was met with a coordinated assault. Hild and CCMD struck in unison, their attacks finding the creature¡¯s heart and spine. Despite her worries this might make things worse, Lorelei threw her coin, giving a little jig as she did so, turning the assault into a lethal strike through the Troll¡¯s head. The combined might of their attacks finally brought the Troll down. With a final, guttural roar, it collapsed onto the tarmac, its body smouldering and lifeless. Hild lowered her axe, her breath heavy, as the group gathered around the fallen creature. ¡°We did it,¡± Steffan said, his voice filled with a mix of exhaustion and triumph as the XP flooded into them. He reached out a hand to help Zorrobar to his feet, the fire mage wincing as he stood. ¡°Barely,¡± Chrissy replied, wiping her hands clean of Zorrobar''s blood on the Troll¡¯s ragged hide.
***Help Message***
Just before you all get jizz over each other in celebration, can I suggest maybe a little peak to your right . . .
Grimacing, Lorelei did so and started running a moment later Chapter Forty-Six - I see a giant troll and I want it painted black. "Shit!" Lorelei yelled as she took off, as fast as she could, towards their second group. Hild made a half-hearted attempt to keep up, but the Valkyrie was soon left in her wake. As she grew near the sight of some epic chaos, the stench of blood and burnt flesh mingled with the acrid fumes of spent mana, creating an atmosphere of palpable dread. Groans of the wounded echoed across the lanes of the motorway, punctuated by the guttural roars of a triumphant [Toll-Booth Troll]. "How the fuck has that thing managed to take them all down?" she asked her Guide as she ran. "They should have had more than enough to take it without the rest of us."
***Help Message***
Couple of points, cupcake. First up, you might want to start taking a little more notice of all the information I''m putting on a plate for you. A System could start to feel its efforts are wasted if players ignore all contextual clues.
Lorelei dismissed the message and increased her speed. In moments, Pete would be overwhelmed by the relentless bludgeoning from the [Toll-Booth Troll] and - with Kris unconscious by his feet and both the Veiled Stalkers out for the count - that would be game over. And in more ways than one. Quite apart from not really wanting to see her friends die - well, Pete and Kris, anyway - she had a quest to complete that was an automatic fail if she was left with less than 51% of the original group. Even as she thought this, Lorelei knew it was the emotionally dampening talking, but there was still a burst of shame at that thought. It really did seem to matter to her more than anything else that four more deaths made completing the quest impossible. Trying to ignore that thought, she focused on her Guide''s last few words. "What the fuck are you going on about?"
***Help Message in an exaggerated passive-aggressive tone***
If you would take the most cursory of glances at the description of that [Toll Booth Troll], you would have seen that while you and your little group have just beasted a common-or-garden Level 8, you have sent your fellows up against an Elite version. Its name is in gold and everything.
Lorelei was only yards away now and could clearly see what her Guide meant. This monster''s name was a far sparklier and shiny colour than the one they had just defeated. "So? Does that mean it''s tougher?"
***No Shit, Sherlock Message***
I was giving you kudos for picking the easier one to take down, but now I sense it was one of your classic blunders. You sent that party to its death without any real plan, didn''t you? Same old, same old.
Lorelei winced as Pete was smashed backwards to land in a tumble of unconscious limbs. The elite troll, towering at a monstrous twelve feet tall, was ugly, even for its species. It was a nightmare far more unpleasant even than the one she had just helped defeat. Its skin was a mottled tapestry of scars, boils, and warts. Yellowed tusks jutted out from a maw dripping with the blood of - presumably - Michael and Michelle, and its beady eyes glinted with intelligence. "Can I take it?"
***Amused Guffawing Message***
So much for that, then. But, by then, she was there, standing above Pete and holding a hand towards the troll in the least convincing show of defiance since the time Gordon from the Mail Room had tried to defend writing her an email entitled ''Fuck the HR Nazi Bitch." Now she thought of it, Gordon''s eyes had held the same expression as this thing. Funny what ran through your mind as you were about to die. The troll looked down at Lorelei, its eyes narrowing as it registered her presence. With a deep booming shout that reverberated straight through to her feet, it swung a massive, clawed hand at her.
***Help Message***
Fuck me, are you really trying this? Buttercup, this isn''t going to be like the [Kobold Champion]; this thing is a proper death machine. I didn''t put this here as a training exercise for new groups - this is a Level Boss.
Lorelei dismissed the notification, barely managing to duck under the blow, feeling the rush of air as the claws passed mere inches from her head. The force of the swipe was enough to send a nearby car tumbling like a toy, its windows shattering in a spray of glass and metal. Lorelei rolled to her feet, seeing the other conscious members of their party running to start pulling the fallen out of the way. So that was good. At least something positive would come from this. Lorelei''s mind raced as she calculated her next move, her heart pounding in her ears. Then she reached for her Double-Headed Coin of Fate, flipping it high into the air, activating . The coin spun, glinting in the dim light, and landed to display Lorelei''s smiley face. Her hands were suddenly glowing.
Hadouken: Give a yell that holds all the fervour of a man who has stubbed his toe on the edge of a coffee table. You have access to a fireball that looks suspiciously like an oversized, flaming meatball. This baby will soar towards its target with the grace of a drunken seagull. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
Double your fun: If you can Down, Down-Forward, Forward + Punch to activate it, I''ll give the old random damageometre another roll and see what happens.
Having no time to worry about how she must look, Lorelei crouched twice, took two steps forward and yeeted the fireball towards the troll, giving it the full ''Hadouken'' shout as she did so. The impact was immense. Her blast connected with the troll''s flesh, sending a shockwave of force through her arms and into the beast''s body. The troll staggered back, dark blood spurting from the wound, screaming in pain. The dark ichor that flowed from its neck was thick and foul-smelling, staining the ground and sizzling where it landed.
Critical Damage Dealt: [Randomised x Damage Multiplier] 500 HP (Sounds epic, doesn''t it? But I''m afraid this dude has health to spare. You''ve basically just kicked him in the nuts and tweaked his nose. Painful, for sure. Maddening, indeed. But hardly incapacitating.)
Lorelei looked up where the troll¡¯s health bar was displayed and saw that it had dipped slightly but nothing major. Taking advantage of her momentary distraction, it swung its other hand at Lorelei, claws aimed to tear her apart. Instinctively, she ducked and rolled again, narrowly avoiding the lethal swipe. The claws scraped the tarmac, leaving deep gouges and sending sparks flying that ignited the petrol leaking from a nearby car. This blazed into life, flames engulfing the troll, doing far more damage to it than Lorelei''s assault with the Streetfighter move had managed.
***Hmmm, that wasn''t suspiciously lucky or anything***
The troll''s eyes blazed with agony - the rest of its body just blazed - as it lunged forward, mouth open, jaws snapping. Lorelei darted back, her heart pounding as she tried to avoid both being eaten and also set alight. The troll''s fetid breath washed over her, a nauseating stench - quite apart from the stink of its burning skin - that made her eyes water and her stomach churn. She fought down the urge to retch as she fled. The troll howled again, this time summoning a wave of necrotic energy that rippled through the air. Lorelei felt the Skill hit her, sending her sprawling across the bonnet of a white van. Pain lanced through her body, but she gritted her teeth and pushed herself up. She couldn''t afford to stay down. Not now.
***Wipe Incoming***
"What? I''m okay. It hurt, but I''ve had worse!"
***Prepare for Game Over***
Sorry, dear, but it''s hit you with . Remember, you''re supposed to be in a massive group to take this fucker on, and each of you would take a hit of this and spread out the damage. It''s a fucking nasty D.o.T and one more tick will wipe you. Fucking hell, why can''t you ever listen!
Feeling an odd sense of calm, Lorelei activated , praying for a favourable outcome even as all her mana vanished.
Critical Impact Detected! You''ve been infected by .
transforms impact to 50 HP of damage
Status Effect: Massive Set of Balls. 50% increase of damage when fighting a significantly overpowered enemy. Oh, and your mana pool is now inexplicably full.
***Oh, come on. This isn''t even remotely subtle!***
Energy surged through her, knitting her wounds and bolstering her strength. She felt a rush of vitality as her body healed the pain of the rot ebbing away. She was back on her feet in an instant, feeling stronger than ever, ready to face the troll once more. Deciding every little would help, she cast to top her health back up and shivered as the spell spread through her body. The status effect granted her a 20% increase in movement speed, making her even more agile.
***Help Message***
Look, I''m going to leave you to it here. Luck¡ªcough¡ªis obviously on your side, literally and metaphorically. And I am not going to be caught in the vicinity if anyone decides to have a look at this little battle. Assuming you survive, I''m going to nerf any XP you get here¡ªit''ll get shared across your whole team. See you later, toots.
With newfound vigour, Lorelei dashed forward, dodging the troll''s clumsy swipes with ease. Her agility was a blur, and she used it to her advantage, landing quick, precise throws of her coin on the troll''s vulnerable spots. started to throw up a few negative status effects, which threatened her momentum, so seeing off cooldown, she cast it on the troll and let it soak up any of the bad luck she generated. From then on, every hit either inflicted maximum damage or gave the monster yet another traumatic debuff. However, despite all this - and it was a lot - the troll was not yet done. It bellowed again, the wind of its final Skill sending Lorelei spiralling through the air. However, as she flew, she launched another , using her airborne form to complete an epic set of dance moves.
Unleashed: Fortuna''s Herald flips a coin her airborne dance forces a remarkable change in the attack outcome.
Original Attack Outcome: [Negative Result] Troll returns to 100% HP
New Attack Outcome: The coin grows in size, striking the troll with cataclysmic power. Like a meteor hitting the Yucat¨¢n Peninsula. Seriously, it blows a hole the size of the Chicxulub Crater straight through its head.
Damage Dealt: Who fucking cares. Fucker is toast.
The impact was explosive, and the troll''s health bar plummeted. With a sad little whimper, it collapsed to the ground, lifeless. The elite marker above its head flickered and disappeared. Breathing heavily, Lorelei found herself standing over the fallen troll, her chest heaving with exertion. For once, she had managed to leverage her luck-based Class in a way that had finally paid off. Maybe Fortuna wasn''t completely off-piste with her plan after all . . . The motorway fell silent as her party members battered but all still alive, slowly approached. Their faces were a mix of awe and relief. "You did it, Lorelei," Steffan said, his voice filled with something odd. "You really did it." Lorelei smiled, her heart swelling with something that might very well have been pride. "Yeah, I guess I did." * Just over the ridge of the hard shoulder, Sylvie and Rupert had watched, with something akin to horrified amazement, as the Level 8 they had been hunting soloed a Level Boss. Neither of them would consider themselves cowards, but there was something about watching that little exchange that had poured a bucket of ice-cold water over their revenge plan. They each exchanged a quick glance before Rupert began backing away. "We''re going to need a whole fucking crew for this bitch." "And the fucking rest," Sylvie said, joining him in his rapid escape. Chapter Forty-Seven - In my shoes, walking sleep. In my youth, I pray to keep Heaven send Hell away The group had voted on setting up camp for the night on the verge next to the toll booths. From what each of them could remember¡ªprovided the System hadn''t done too much geographical fiddling¡ªthe exit road for Lichfield was just a little further up the motorway, and from there, it would be a reasonably direct yomp to the Cathedral. All things being equal, as far as they could reckon such things, they were probably no more than three hours away from completing their Quest. Nevertheless, after the pounding the second team had just taken at the hands of the elite troll, the general consensus was that a good night''s sleep - and an opportunity for Health and Mana Pools to refill - was infinitely preferable to braving the rest of the journey in the dark. Although she wasn''t sharing her private theory with the others, Lorelei suspected it wouldn''t make any difference to their eta if they had chosen to press on this evening. No matter how fast - nor, she thought, how slowly - they travelled, she felt they were fated to arrive at their destination just as the Doom Clock countdown they could each see in the corner of their vision reached a critical point. She''d tried to run her suspicions by her Guide, but it was still maintaining a studied silence since the confluence of lucky outcomes that had brought about the end of her most recent battle. Thus, as the others milled about, doing their best to avoid staring at someone who¡ªfrom their point of view¡ªhad just delivered the sort of improbable, solo destruction more usually seen in Liam Neeson movies, Lorelei resummoned the open Quest.
*** Quest Awarded *** Save the cheerleaders, save the world
Objective: Get your new best friends somewhere safe.
Quest Description: Well, who would have thought it? One moment, you were running around, punching kobolds to death with your bare hands, and the next, you are suddenly the grizzled, reluctant saviour of a small group of helpless, gormless innocents. Don''t times change? We''ll keep this one nice and simple. Lead your faithful companions to the sanctuary of Lichfield Cathedral. They''ll be safe there. Promise.
1/3. Take no more than 49% casualties: Look, see how generous I''m being? I''m not even saying you have to keep all these fuckers alive. Collateral damage is entirely acceptable; I might even say desirable. Just get most of these guys through the Cathedral doors, and I''ll be happy. And there are Zombies in the group! Those little darlings are pretty much invincible. What''s not to like?
2/3. Take no longer than two days to reach your destination: It''s helpful to have some sort of jeopardy, isn''t it? To tell the truth, I have some spare Doom Clock animations I wasn''t properly able to roll out during the run for the Safe Zones, and I''d like the chance to make use of them. When time runs out, something suitably epic will happen, so don''t test me on this, okay?
3/3. Defeat the Chimera: You''d expect nothing else, would you? When you reach the Cathedral, there will be an appropriately difficult creature to defeat. For the sake of clarity, I want you to understand that this is a Party Quest. As in, you need to do it in a group. I don''t usually have to make this so clear at the start of an integration, but then some dozy fucker soloed a Kobold Guardian by mistake.
Rewards: I''ll come up with some sort of snazzy title for you. You love your titles, don''t you? Oh, and I''ll also gear up whichever of this motley crew makes it through alive. What''s that? Still not sold? Okay, well, depending on how you do, I''ll give you access to some of the XP I took off from your most recent kills. How much is entirely at my discretion.
Lorelei knew that the others had picked up some version of this Quest¡ªSteffan had said it was called Follow this lunatic, and half of you will die¡ªwhich had given the group somewhat of a Sophie''s Choice about the whole thing. She wasn''t sure whether any of their little road trip survivors were feeling too optimistic about the whole thing anymore. Having little else to do - the others had insisted she ''take a break'' - Lorelei looked at each of the Quest parts in turn, trying to get a sense of how tomorrow was likely to play out. Starting at the bottom, she couldn''t help but give a little mental shrug at the idea of them taking down another party boss. Sure, she had no doubt that the Chimera was going to be testing, but they''d all received this Quest just after their panicked escape from the slaughter at the Amber Zone. Since then, they''d each added quite a few Levels, and from the constant snark from her Guide, she figured more than they were really supposed to have done. That little Level 40 farce with the Graffiti Imps and the Urban Shadow had pretty much power-levelled them up too. Then, defeating the Toll-Booth Trolls had pushed everyone up another tick, and - although no one was bragging too hard - there were lots of pretty smug faces when post-battle notifications were looked over. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Of course, it obviously wasn''t beyond the System to cheat and give whatever the fuck was guarding the entrance to the Cathedral a massive power-up to match all their shiny new Levels, but worrying about that wasn''t going to make any difference to the outcome, was it? They were either going to arrive and bitch-slap an underpowered Boss around, or the System would have responded and artificially boosted it to be a challenge and they were no worse off than they were when they started. After everything she''d been through since the integration had begun, that hardly raised a ''meh'' on her internal give-a-fuck-ometre. In much the same manner, Lorelei suspected that the second part of the Quest¡ªtake no longer than two days to reach your destination¡ªwould prove to be a MacGuffin. She hadn''t exactly run the numbers, but their progress to Lichfield was obviously being artificially slowed down in order to provide appropriate drama. Had he been less jumpy around her right now, she might have asked Steffan to work it all out, but in the end, what did it matter? The System obviously wanted them to rock up outside Lichfield Cathedral just as their Doom Clock was entering the final countdown. Not for the first time, Lorelei found herself questioning the motivations of the super galactic entity behind Earth''s integration. For all the talk of peace, love, and supportive altruism in the formal messages they had received, the System''s actions seemed far more directed towards bringing them into conflict than partnership. She might not be entirely sure she wanted to be ''Team Fortuna'', but she shared her patron''s ambivalence about what was taking place here. Even this Quest - a classic Escort Mission - was more about manufactured peril than it was about making sure everyone survived. And that led her to the bit of the Quest, which caused her some worry. Take no more than 49% casualties. Lorelei had been blithely assuming this was going to work out okay. Not counting herself, ten of them had started the Quest, and they''d only lost the two Red Shirt Mages. Pete, Hild, Michael and Michelle, Kris, Zorrobar, Steffan and Chrissy were all still in one piece - even if the fight with the elite troll had made that a little wobbly for a while. So, she was batting 80%, right? But that''s where her worry was settling in. The title of the Quest - Save the cheerleaders, save the world - might just have been the System riffing off a TV Show with almost one good season. However, the description of the first part of the Quest explicitly mentioned Steffan''s Zombie Cheerleader''s being pretty much ''invincible'' as making this stage a bit of walkover. So, coupled with the Quest title, it seemed like the System was counting his zombie army as part of the group. Lorelei redid her maths. If they''d started off as nineteen - ten humans and nine zombies - and were down to eight . . . There was a pause.
***Help Message***
Oh, by all the Lords of the Sky, I can''t watch your face struggle with this anymore. It looks like you are taking a particularly traumatic shit. 42%. It''s 42%. Eight over nineteen is 0.42. What the fuck went wrong with the education system on this planet?
"Welcome back," Lorelei said, letting the insult slide.
***Help Message***
I''m not ''back''; my spidey senses just kicked in that some gormless shaved ape was struggling with basic arithmetic, and I had to act. With great power comes great responsibility, you know? And now I''ve helped you crack that particular primary school maths problem . . .
"Just a minute. Can I check something with you? I honestly need your help here. And you''re the only person who might know the answer. Please, I will be ever so grateful."
***Oddly Affected by your Flagrant Efforts to Flatter Message***
Go on.
"If the Zombies count as part of the group, why haven''t we failed the first part of the Quest?"
***Wishing I''d Trusted my Instincts and Fucked Off Message***
Think about it, honey-pie. This Quest was constructed when the group you were in had a Necromancer and his zombies as part of it. What possible reason could there be that, despite dropping to a 42% survival rate, you haven''t yet failed the test? I mean, it''s a tricky one. I''m not sure how you are possibly going to be able to figure it out. I''ll even throw you an extra clue. Your current group survival percentage is not 42%. It''s 47%. So close, and yet so far.
Lorelei looked over at the skittering form of Steffan''s Shadowweaver Arachnis.
***Bingo***
Lorelei nodded slightly. That made sense. The group might have lost the cheerleaders, but Steffan could use his powers to replace them. "So, we need one more team member to be over the threshold? And can I presume that if we arrive at the Cathedral at under 51%, that will be an automatic fail?" Lorelei paused. "And, obviously, now I''ve realised this, you are going to fix it so there are no more encounters between now and then for us to pick up any slain enemies to boost the numbers, aren''t you?" Silence. Lorelei hadn''t expected an answer, and - to be honest - the lack of one was all she needed to confirm her way of thinking. They were destined to reach Lichfield Cathedral just in time tomorrow. The Chimera would be an easy wipe, or it wouldn''t. And, most importantly, if they didn''t do something this evening to get back over the 51% threshold, they''d fail the Quest the moment they arrived. Lorelei took a breath and stood, the others becoming instantly wary as she did so. Seriously, they were treating her like some sort of superhero. She hoped it was more Man of Steel than Homelander, but provided it kept Hild from ragging on her anymore, she''d take it either way. "Steffan!" she called. The Necromancer pretty much fell over himself reaching her side, his spider not far behind. "Yes?" "We find ourselves having a little mathematical difficulty, and it appears you might be the only one who can help." Chapter Forty-Eight - Bring the troll to life. It’s been livin a lie. Theres nothing inside Steffan really did not want to try adding the elite [Toll-Booth Troll] to his reduced zombie roster. It would be, as he put it, "like trying to fit an angry dragon into a stable for pygmy goats." "But you already added the Shadowweaver Arachnis - it can''t be that much different, surely?" Kris asked reasonably.
***Help Message***
It fucking well is - it''s good to see at least one of these walking death-wishes has the start of a sense of self-preservation.
"Look," Steffan said, backing away from the rest of them and hugging himself for comfort. "First off, the sheer power disparity is just... it''s just, well, it¡¯s laughable. Trying to raise an elite-level mob . . . It¡¯s not just a matter of waving my hands and uttering some ancient incantations . . . "
***Help Message***
Actually, it''s exactly like that, but the point he''s making is reasonably sound. He''s got space in his roster to slot the troll in - no worries on that front - but it''s going to be pretty rough on his mental well-being. The fucking thing won''t like being under his power, and he''s going to need to show more balls than he''s managed hitherto to keep the thing malleable.
"I mean, just the binding process alone . . ." If Steffan moved much further away from the group, he''d be on the other side of the motorway. "Do you have any idea how much arcane energy it takes to bind a creature of that calibre? I¡¯d need a ritual circle with a radius of 50 feet, and a steady supply of rare components¡ªdragon scales, phoenix feathers, and who knows what else. Not to mention, the whole thing needs to be performed under a full moon with the planets in perfect alignment. It¡¯s a logistical nightmare!"
***Help Message***
Yeah, he''s spouting bollocks now. You know what, just for that, I''ve changed my mind. I was all for backing him over this one - no one likes to see a noob''s brains leak out from behind his ears because he tries something beyond his ken. Trust me, that''s been my screensaver for the last few days, and I''m all for people recognising their limits right now - but I have an image to maintain, and I''m not having all this High Fantasy bullshit. He has the Skill he needs to use and more than enough mana at his disposal to make it stick. No. The critical question is whether he has the stones for it, though.
Lorelei was struggling to follow Steffan''s increasingly manic protestations and read the words of her Guide as they spooled in her vision. "And let¡¯s not forget about the backlash! Even if, by some miracle, I manage to overpower the troll''s desire to run amok the moment I bring it back and actually bind it to my will, there''ll be a constant struggle to maintain control. One slip-up, one moment of weakness, and this thing could turn on me faster than you can say ¡°necromantic overreach.¡± The mental strain will be immense, like holding back a tidal wave with a flimsy wooden dam. We still have to defeat the Chimera when we reach Lichfield Cathedral, and I''m sure you''ll be wanting me to help out with CCMD. There will be no chance of that if I''m fighting to keep you all alive from the fucking troll wanting to eat you!"
***Help Message***
He''s not too far wrong here. What you have to remember is that the spider was already a summons, so it knew the whole master/minion deal. When it came back, it just traded one master for another and rolled with it like a champ. That elite troll, though? Yeah, it''s going to be pissed at not only dying to you wet wipes, but then being brought back under the control of Wimpy McWimperson over there. There''s going to be quite some kickback down their connection, and he''s going to need to be up for the struggle. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
"Is there anything we can do to help him with it?" Lorelei asked the Guide. She had whispered under her breath so the others wouldn''t hear, but as they were all in hot pursuit of Steffan, who was in danger of breaking into a run, she need not have bothered.
***Help Message***
Not really. I mean, it''s all a matter of mental strength, isn''t it? He''s got the stats to do it¡ªespecially since that last level-up¡ªbut he''s got to actually want to pull it off. I tell you what, listening to him blubber, I''m almost tempted to offer him a Class change. He doesn''t appear to have the . . . What do you call it? The thing you need to be a successful Necromancer?
"Willpower?" Lorelei hazarded.
***Help Message***
Maniacal self-regard and balls-to-the-way sadistic power lust.
Lorelei watched as Pete picked Steffan up and carried him, under one arm like a protesting carpet, back to the troll''s body. No, she thought, Steffan did not appear to fulfil the stereotype of a typical Necromancer. "Look," Zorrobar began, a friendly smile on his bearded face as he knelt in front of Steffan once Pete deposited him on the tarmac. "We all understand that you would rather not do it. I would share your worries if I were you. But if what she says is true," he nodded towards Lorelei, who waved sheepishly back, "we don''t have the numbers to pass this Quest anymore. We are going to need you to add a summons to our party." Michael took up the theme. "Mate, I get you''re not wild about this, but we don''t have a choice, do we? If we get to the Cathedral without another group member, we''re all dead. You''ve read the Quest notes the same way we did. And time is ticking." Steffan looked around helplessly for support. "But what about the issue of synergy with CCMD? Introducing an elite mob with intelligence and power far surpassing my own into the mix is going to be a nightmare! The troll will either try to assert dominance over the spider, causing chaos, or it will wilfully, disdainfully ignore CCMD, making coordination a joke.
***Help Message***
Not a wholly invalid point. But the rodenty dude with the knives hit the nail squarely on the head. You can chat about it all as much as you like, but unless your little group gets one bigger, it''s going to be Wipetown, population You, the second you see the Cathedral. Honestly, I didn''t expect this part of the Quest to be the problem. Imagine being so shit you cannot even keep the zombie army in one piece . . .
"How about I do it instead?" It would be fair to say, Lorelei thought, that when she didn''t have her tits out, the rest of the group tended to forget about Chrissy. It might well have been a function of her Class, but most of the time, it was like she faded somewhat into the background when not the focus of attention. But, right now, though, all eyes were on the Chameleon Courtesan. "As far as I understand how all of these things work, if I''m wearing the right clothes, I should be able to have the abilities of a Necromancer, right? So, why doesn''t Steffan just me all his gear, and I summon up the troll? Then, if it is my sole summons, there won''t be a problem with it fighting against Cee-Cee, will there? And if it is the only thing I have to focus on when we get to the Cathedral, it shouldn''t be too taxing for me to keep it under control." All eyes swivelled from Chrissy to Lorelei. When did I become the font of all knowledge, she thought.
***Help Message***
At about the same time, you soloed the fucking elite troll with a ridiculously overpowered show of unearned techniques and good luck.
The rare valid point, Lorelei acknowledged. "What about it? Do you think she could do it?"
***Help Message***
I have no idea. Sounds like it would be a lot of fun to try out, though, doesn''t it? I mean, what''s the worst that could happen? I mean, sure, she has absolutely no experience of using Necromantic power, which might be a bit of a problem. And, of course, she seems dimmer than the lights on ''Netflix and Chill'' night. Not forgetting, this is an Undead elite troll we''re discussing, not resurrecting a beloved family pet. But, and I make this point with all love, what other choices do you have?
Lorelei looked hard at Steffan for a few moments, but it was clear that there was nothing they could say to convince him to try it. His spider scuttled over to stand protectively before him, and the Necromancer almost crushed it to death in his anxiousness to grab hold of it and huddle behind its carapace. On the other hand, Chrissy looked entirely sanguine over the prospect of shortly dominating a giant monster. Lorelei supposed that, when you did what she did for a living, the prospect of keeping a massive, sweating mound of malevolent troll under your spell was a bit of a busman''s holiday. "Why don''t we give it a go?" she said hesitantly. The speed with which Steffan disrobed and threw his gear over to the former stripper was somewhat the definition of an ''ironic interaction''. Chapter Forty-Nine - We clawed, we chained its hearts in vain. The troll jumped, never asking why The corpse of the elite [Toll-Booth Troll] lay sprawled across the tarmac of the motorway like an oversized speed bump. Now wearing the odds and sods of clothing that the rest of the group had in their inventories, Steffan hovered nervously over the body. Lorelei might have expected him to have relaxed somewhat now that they weren''t relying on him to save the day, but his buzzing apprehension was palpable, and it was putting everyone else on edge. "Guys, I still don¡¯t think this is a good idea," Steffan repeated, scratching his chin and looking from the troll''s remains to where Chrissy stood in his robes, performing a complicated warm-up routine. She really was very flexible indeed. "As I''ve been saying," he continued, "raising a regular undead minion is one thing, but this . . . this is going to be like trying to teach a rhinoceros ballet. I''m not sure Chrissy will be able to handle it on her first try. And if it goes wrong, we''ll be in trouble!" Michelle snorted and gave the Necromancer a disgusted look. "Mate, it''s hardly our favourite choice either. It''s you that''s saying you aren''t willing to give it a go that''s brought us to this. We''re not overburdened with options here. You do understand we''re going to die at the Cathedral if we don''t increase our group size! You can read, can''t you?" As she spoke, her brother stepped up behind her, his face grim. "Trust me on this, mate. If I weren''t worried you''re too squishy to survive, I''d be kicking your arse for putting us in this situation. But you better believe that as soon as this Quest ends, we''re going to have a full and frank exchange of views about you pulling this shit on us." Lorelei moved forward, putting herself between Steffan and the Veiled Stalker siblings. "Look, that''s not helpful, is it? Steffan explained why he did not think he would be able to make this summons stick. Let''s respect his choice, and all get behind Plan B." They all turned to look at Plan B, who reached down to touch her toes and then bounced up on her heels with an enthusiasm that seemed wildly out of place with the growing tension in the air. "Look, I''m not worried, so you shouldn''t be worried. It''s this sort of shit that my Class is built for, isn''t it? I''m sure there are all manner of safeguards built in to make it easy for me to nail using a new Skill on my first try. If there weren''t, anyone with this Class would be dead immediately after attempting anything new, wouldn''t we!"
***Help Message***
The lady with the giant jugs speaks sooth. Chameleon Courtesans have all sorts of Skill-based smoothing built in to prevent them from wiping when they adopt a new Class. I''m pretty proud of that bit of coding.
Lorelei felt herself begin to relax slightly when she read those words. It actually sounded like this plan might not be wholly outrageous . . .
***Help Message***
Of course, I should probably also add the valuable context here that only 363 Chameleon Courtesans are still alive across your planet. That''s down a whopping 500000% since the opening day. I don''t know about you, but that little factoid makes me wonder how effective that smoothing really is . . .
"Fuck''s sake," Lorelei muttered and joined the rest of the group watching Chrissy''s warm-up routine, expressions ranging from incredulity to mild horror. The only person who didn¡¯t seem remotely ruffled by the potential fallout from the plan was the stripper herself. "Aye, but ye''ve nivvor been a Necromancer afore, have ye, pet?" Pete pointed out, his broad shoulders seemingly sagging under the weight of the day¡¯s events. Lorelei didn''t blame them. "First time for everything! I''d never done a Phoenix Spiral Lift before I tried it either," Chrissy said, "but look at me now!" The group watched in various states of worry/arousement/bafflement as Chrissy manifested her stripper pole, reaching the top of it using a series of elegant, controlled spins. She paused momentarily at the summit, legs extended in a perfect split, holding the position with one hand while the other trailed down her body for dramatic effect. Then, with a smile, she began a slow downward spiral, spinning around the pole while maintaining a solid grip upon it with her thighs. At the midpoint, she flipped upside down, arching her back, releasing her grip with one hand and extending it outward, using the other hand and their legs to maintain her balance.
***Help Message*** Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.
I have absolutely no idea what this is meant to prove, but speaking for the guys in the Observation Hub, those dudes are absolutely here for it.
Chrissy continued her descent, beginning to spin faster, creating a whirlwind of movement. She alternated between gripping the pole with her hands and legs until, near the base of the pole, executing a complex twist, flipping her body upright. Chrissy end up sitting on the pole with her legs wrapped around it, facing outward. She then began a slow, controlled climb back up the pole, using a series of body rolls and spins. As she reached the top, she extended one leg and arm outward, mimicking the wings of a phoenix in flight. Not knowing how else to respond, Lorelei began to applaud, but then, for the grand finale, Chrissy released the pole with their hands and performed a controlled drop, catching herself at the last moment with their legs in a powerful, dramatic pose.
***Help Message***
Look, I don''t really want to make this joke, but I''ll hate myself in the morning if I don''t take the opportunity. "Well, I don''t know about raising the dead, but that girl just got some raising action going on up here, if you know what I''m saying!"
Lorelei closed the notification with a sigh as Chrissy dismissed her stripper pole back to her inventory and pulled back the sleeves of Steffan''s robes to free her hands. "Now, everyone stand back. This might get a bit¡­ messy." With a deep breath and the air of someone about to try their hand at knitting for the first time, Chrissy approached the troll¡¯s body. She glanced over at Steffan, who begrudgingly summoned his grimoire and passed it over to her. The weight of the book in her hands was reassuring, even if she had no clue how to read half the incantations within it. "All right, let''s do this," Chrissy said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. She opened the grimoire to a dog-eared page labelled "Calling the Dead" and began to chant, her voice rising and falling in guttural tones. The air grew cold and heavy, and a foul stench - a mixture of rotting meat and spoiled milk - wafted from the troll''s body. As Chrissy¡¯s chanting grew louder, light blue energy crackled around her fingers, leaking outwards to seep into the troll''s corpse like ink spreading through water. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the troll''s massive form shuddered. Its limbs twitched, and a low growl emanated deep within its chest. Chrissy¡¯s eyes widened, taking a step backwards, but she kept chanting, clearly determined to see it through. The troll''s eyes snapped open, glowing with the same blue light surrounding the Chameleon Courtesan. Its body jerked upright in bone-cracking movements that sounded nothing so much like a giant popping bubble wrap. Flesh that had started to rot knitted itself back together in a sick parody of life, muscles bulging and contracting as the troll rose to its full, terrifying height. Hild and Pete drew their weapons and stepped forward, ushering the rest of the group back behind them as the troll staggered spasmodically about. The creature let out a roar that echoed across the motorway, sending birds fleeing from nearby trees and causing everyone present to take another involuntary step back. Then, its eyes fixed on Chrissy, who desperately tried to remember the next part of the ritual. "You need to activate ," Steffan shouted. "It needs to accept that you have control of it. You need to dominate it!" "My specialist subject," she muttered to herself, flipping to the next page in the grimoire, her fingers trembling slightly. Finding , she read the words aloud, hoping the invocation would help her wrest control over the hulking behemoth. The troll lunged forward, its massive hands reaching for Chrissy. On instinct, she resummoned her stripper poll and thrust it out in front of her, tendrils of the same light blue energy lashing out and wrapping around the troll like ethereal chains. The troll howled in anger, thrashing against its bonds, its movements so powerful that the tarmac ripped and shattered beneath their feet. The troll¡¯s body continued to contort unnaturally as it fought Chrissy''s control, its flesh tearing and reforming. The smell of decay intensified, mingling with the scent of mana from the power of the Skill Chrissy was channelling open. Chrissy¡¯s grip tightened on her pole, her knuckles white with strain. "Down . . . boy!" Chrissy commanded, her voice unwavering. The troll roared again, but its movements were growing sluggish, the tentacles of tightening around it like a constrictor. Or a ''90s Bond Villain''s thighs. With a final, desperate effort, Chrissy forced all her will into the spell, forcing the creature to kneel before her. For a moment, everything was still. Pete approached cautiously, his sword at the ready. "Is it... is it under control, like? Are ye sure ye''ve got it sorted and it¡¯s not gonna gan wild on us, pet?" Chrissy swallowed hard, nodding slowly. "Barely. But yes, I think I''ve got it." Steffan let out a breath he hadn¡¯t realized he was holding. "That was¡­ impressive, Chrissy. Horrifying, but impressive." Chrissy gave a shaky laugh, wiping sweat from her brow. "Well, I always did have a flair for the dramatic." The group gathered around the subdued troll, still wary but visibly relieved. Chrissy¡¯s hands trembled as she lowered her pole, the blue light dissipating into the air like smoke. "Now what?" asked Hild, looking between the troll and the rest of the group. Lorelei took a deep breath. "Now, we complete the Quest." "And then maybe," Chrissy added, "maybe I¡¯ll consider a career change." The group shared a collective chuckle, the tension breaking as they prepared to move onward to the final part of their journey. Chrissy made a little clicking noise, and the troll rose to stumble up to stand behind her.
***Help Message***
Just so we''re clear, we both know that''s going to break free from her control at precisely the least helpful moment, don''t we?
Loreli dismissed the notification and hurried to follow the rest of the group towards the exit junction for Lichfield. Chapter Fifty - God save little shops, china cups and virginity It was unsurprisingly tricky to sneak up on a cathedral when your party contained a giant, partially under control, undead troll. As it was, it was all Chrissy could do to keep the thing from hulk-smashing them to pieces every few seconds. Silent infiltration to their destination was thus out of the question. On the plus side, though, Lorelei thought, one look at the Chameleon Courtesan''s new best friend had clearly dissuaded any of the other roaming parties that kept popping up on her Map from bothering them. "Aah divvin'' knaa aboot anyone else, but the friggin'' thing terrifies uz! Me neighbour used to keep pit bulls as pets. This feels like whenever aah went roond there for a beer. Aah''m just waitin'' for the thing te rip me leg off!" It was widely understood that Pete was speaking for them all. In herself, though, Chrissy appeared to be coping quite well with the demands the summoning was placing on her. She was chatting away quite amicably with Zorrobar to the right of their formation, only occasionally needing to do the mental equivalent of snapping the whip to reinforce her dominance of the monster. Steffan, on the other hand, had been unusually sulky since the party had gained an extra Necromancer. Lorelei was not sure whether this was because he was jealous that Chrissy had managed to achieve a feat he had said was beyond him or if he was just irritated to have needed to give her all his gear. Either way, though, he wasn''t being especially chatty. And with him being all silent, Hild and Michelle carrying on some Mean Girl-esque conspiring towards the back of the group, the troll''s repeated attempts to escape, and Pete''s semi-coherent ramblings, Lorelei was delighted when they passed the sign that said ''Welcome to Lichfield''. Lorelei was sure she must have been there once or twice before, but for the life of her, she didn''t think it had looked like this before. The System had definitely given the place a little bit of a makeover. And she wasn''t sure she liked it.
***Help Message***
Oh, hang on. Give me a minute. I''m just checking and . . . no, sorry. I''m all out of fucks to give today. My fucks have runneth dry. Try again tomorrow, where we will be having a sale on ''don''t give a fuck what you thinks'' and ''go fuck yourself, you ungrateful tosspots''. Two for the price of fucking one. Do come again soon. Fuck you very much.
They''d noticed the change to their environment a little way out, where the smooth surface of the road gave way to cobblestones, which seemed to have a personal vendetta against their ankles. "What the fuck''s up with this bloody pavement!" Michael had said before both he and his sister had vanished into their shadow portals. It was an option that most of the rest of them wished they could have taken. The uneven stones twisted and turned with a mischievous delight under every step, making the last mile or so of the journey a complete nightmare. Kriss had needed to down a couple of mana potions to keep up with the running repairs he was doing on twisted ankles and scraped knees. It got so bad that, after about ten minutes of slipping and sliding on the uneven cobbles, Steffan had to send CCMD to find a longer way around after the spider had skittered thorax over the carapace for the fifth or sixth time. "There''s an irony, you know," Hild had said, picking herself up once again, "that I''ve taken more hits to my HP walking down this fucking path than I did in our last fight. It''s almost like something doesn''t want us here."
***Help Message***
You know, I''m reviewing my opinion of that Amazonian Milf. She''s perceptive. I like her. When terraforming this bit of the world, I was going for less ''Yellow Brick Road'' and ''Massive Prick Street''. Do you think I managed it?
Lorelei dismissed the notification. According to her Map, they''d been about twenty minutes away from the giant red X they''d been headed towards for about an hour now. They still had a bit of time to spare on the ticking Doom Clock, but it would be tight if they didn''t manage to up their progress soon. And it wasn''t just the road leading to the city that seemed to have been transformed by the A.I. Lichfield itself appeared to have undergone a thorough makeover by a set designer with an eye for historical charm and a flair for the theatrical. As the group moved through the deserted streets and roads, it was as if someone had taken every stereotype of Englishness and dialled it up to eleven, then plastered it across this one thoroughfare with all the subtlety of a Shakespearean jester. The houses lining the street were an architectural homage to every period drama the BBC had ever spunked their budget over. The half-timbered Tudor cottages they had got used to seeing on the city''s outskirts were now standing shoulder to shoulder with quaint Georgian townhouses, their exteriors painted in various shades of ''tea-stained cream'' and ''thoroughly respectable beige.'' Each window boasted curtains that looked like they were hand-sewn by Mrs Tiggy-Winkle herself, and window boxes overflowing with flowers so vibrant and uniformly arranged that Lorelei wondered if they might be part of some great floral conspiracy. "This is fucking creepy," Hild muttered, drawing her sword. Hanging above each front door, almost as if mandated by some post-integration zoning law, were gleaming brass knockers shaped like lions, dragons, and other heraldic creatures. These doors, painted in an array of cheerfully muted colours, were all meticulously maintained¡ªthere was no apocalyptic wear and tear here. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. "Where is everyone?" Zorrobar said, manifesting a fireball in each hand and looking around. "My Map has gone completely blank!"
***Help Message***
I''d explain to the noobs the concept of ''instancing'', but I rather fear I''d be wasting my code. For one, I doubt you''d all get it. And for two, there''s no point because you''re about to wipe, and all that shiny new knowledge would be wasted.
Lorelei dismissed the notification. The air around them had become thick with the scent of freshly baked scones and the distant, ever-so-comforting aroma of a Sunday roast perpetually in the making. Each garden they walked slowly past, regardless of its size, was a miniature Eden, complete with perfectly clipped hedges, rose bushes in full, ludicrously overblown bloom, and the obligatory gnome or two casting their ceramic gaze over this utopian landscape. Pete repeatedly hurried over and smashed any of those he saw to pieces with his shield. "Aah bloody hate them things. They proper freak us oot." A little while later, they passed by a series of shops that seem to have leapt straight from the collective imagination of someone who had read too many Agatha Christie novels. There was a bakery with a display window full of pies and pastries. Next door, a bookshop with creaky wooden shelves and the comforting mustiness of old paper offered a selection that was suspiciously heavy on classic British literature and charmingly obscure local histories. Further down the road, a tea shop, its sign swinging gently in the breeze, promised a selection of brews that even Lorelei, one of the most discerning of tea aficionados, felt was a touch excessive. Next to that hung a sign for ¡°The Prancing Pony¡± (no relation, her guide assured Lorelei, to any other establishments in fictional universes), which offered pints of ale that it promised would always be at the perfect temperature. Peering through its windows, they could see its dark wood interior was complete with a roaring fireplace and the obligatory collection of dubious hunting trophies. And, of course, no over-the-top depiction of Englishness would be complete without an ever-present drizzle¡ªnot quite rain but more of a persistent dampness that settled into their very bones. "The world fucking ends, and we still can''t catch a fucking break, weather-wise," Kris said, sweeping his wet, dark hair back out of his eyes in a very Colin-Firth-Climbing-Out-of-a-Pond way. And then they were through the weird faux-village and drawing close to the cathedral proper, its gothic spires loomed into view, rising like the skeletal fingers of some long-forgotten deity giving the heavens the bird.
***Help Message***
You know, this wasn''t actually me. They actually do look like that. I''ve only been on your planet for a couple of days, but it''s clear this place has seen some shit: plagues, wars, religious upheavals, and now you guys about to have your arses handed to you. I imagine today will probably be quite the highlight for the place. Keep an eye on the clock, by the way.
Lorelei dismissed the notification. In keeping with the bizarre perfection of the village they''d just left, the pathway leading to the cathedral was bordered by lawns so carefully manicured that there was clearly the involvement of manically obsessive gardeners: the grass uniformly green, each blade perfectly aligned. It was as if nature had tried to soften the stern, gothic architecture with a touch of verdant tranquillity.
***Help Message***
Yeah, that''s all lovely and everything. But you can see the massive-fuck off Chimera sat just there, right?
Lorelei dismissed the notification. Despite everything the group had experienced since the integration, the cathedral''s sheer intricate scale was awe-inspiring. Its walls and towering spires dwarfed everything around it.
***Help Message***
Not the Chimera, though, right? That thing is fucking massive! The teeth. The eyes. The TEETH!
Lorelei looked up, feeling like an insignificant ant beneath the magnificent building. As she looked closely, the details of the stonework became clearer, revealing intricate carvings and statues, each telling its own story of devotion and craftsmanship. The cathedral''s fa?ade was a marvel, adorned with statues of saints and biblical figures that stared impassively at the transformed world below. Lorelei imagined the countless hands that chiselled and shaped each figure, working tirelessly to create something that would stand the test of time. "You know, when you look at something this beautiful, you remember we''re not such a fucking terrible species after all," she said to no one in particular. "The people who started building this would have known it would never have been finished in their lifetime, and yet that didn''t matter. They didn''t say, ''fuck it, let''s make something quick and easy,'' they committed to something greater themselves."
***Help Message***
Fuck me, waffle-jugs, if I''d known seeing an old church would make you go all maudlin, I''d have set this Quest up in a supermarket or something less likely to set you off.
The group paused at the edge of the cathedral grounds, just before a pair of massive iron gates. These doors had welcomed countless souls over the centuries, each one stepping into the hallowed space beyond with their own hopes, fears, and prayers. The weight of history was here, wrapping around them like the ever-present drizzle. Stepping back to take it all in, Lorelei''s breath couldn''t help but be taken away at the blend of beauty and solemnity, the way the cathedral commanded both respect and a kind of quiet, almost mischievous, amusement.
***Help Message***
Hello, is this thing on? You can see the Chimera, right?
Sighing, Lorelei tore her attention away from the cathedral and focused on the monster she and the rest of the group had been doing their level best to pretend didn''t exist. Because wrapped around Lichfield Cathedral was the biggest fuck-off snake any of them had ever conceived existed. If J?rmungandr had a big brother, this was it.
***Help Message***
Finally! I was worried I''d enabled some sort of perception filter on you all. Excellent. Well, no point hanging about like a spare cock at an orgy. Let''s get ready to rumble!!!!!
Then, at the same exact moment, two important things happened. Firstly, everyone in the group received an update on their Quest status. And, secondly, the Chimera opened its eyes. Chapter Fifty-One - Once there was this boy who tanked a and couldn’t come to school "Nobody move," Kris hissed, trying to summon as many as he could maintain at once and pooling them at everyone''s feet. Lorelei''s mind flashed back to the pivotal moment in Jurassic Park, when the Tyrannosaurus Rex stares down at the guys in the jeep but cannot see them because its vision is based on movement. There was a second - the briefest of seconds - when she thought Kris might actually be on to something here.
***Help Message***
Yeah, not so much cupcake.
The Chimera''s head jerked to the right with appalling swiftness and locked its aim on Michael. Despite his range of escape skills, the rat-like man had no chance to react as the giant snake gave a slight cough and spat a globule of something pretty disastrously vile straight at him. The impact of the creature''s sent the man staggering backwards, the ball of liquid that enveloped him almost matching his size. There was a nicely hopeful beat when it seemed Michael had - aided by Kris''s - tanked the attack with relatively minor damage. And then the screaming started. Michael was suddenly shrieking as if his whole body was ablaze. As the others watched, horrified, the glowing green venom that had covered him head to foot began hissing and bubbling, burning through his thin leather armour in moments and searing deep into his skin. The Veiled Stalker let out the worst scream Lorelei had ever heard in her life, raw and primal, as the acid ate through layers of flesh, his muscles spasming violently, each contraction tearing at the venom-riddled wounds. "Shit," she murmured, unable to move as the little man pretty much began to disintegrate before her eyes, pieces sloughing off him as if he was going through a particularly effective chemical peel. Michael clawed at his chest, trying in vain to wipe clear the noxious substance, flesh peeling away under his nails, revealing raw, red muscle and bone. Then, he couldn''t even do that much longer, as his hands lost their physical integrity and turned into mush. He held them up in front of his face, eyes wide in agony and fear as the Chimera''s opening attack continued its relentless assault, boring deeper, sending shockwaves through his nervous system. ¡°Michael!¡± his sister screamed, "Someone help him!" At this stage, in a display of perceptive groupthink, the party all instantly decided to abandon Operation Stand Stock Still for something a touch more frantic. Chrissy ordered her troll forward to provide some cover, speedy thinking which saved Zorrobar and Steffan from being hit by the Chimera''s follow-up attacks, its poison seemingly having little effect on the undead summons. Sadly, the same couldn''t be said for Michael, though, whose legs gave out, his melting form collapsing to the ground as the acidic venom continued to burn, sending waves of unbearable pain through his body. His skin blistered and split open, oozing blood and pus and the smell of burning flesh filled the air, a sickening, acrid stench. "Let''s pull back," Steffan yelled, CCMD rearing up and spitting its own poison back towards the snake. No one noticed if the spider''s assault made any difference to the Chimera; they all were pretty busy with their own issues. Pete rushed over to the fallen Veiled Stalker. ¡°Hold on, lad! We¡¯ll get ya outta this!¡± he shouted, trying his best to grab him under the arms and drag him away from a pool of acid that had appeared under Michael''s body. Fortunately, he quickly realised that he was likely to rip extremities off if he pulled too hard and chose instead to scoop the man up into a cradle position. Even then, each movement elicited screams of agony from the Veiled Stalker''s sizzling body. Still, under the cover of Chrissy''s troll¡ªwho was hit five more times as they stumbled backwards¡ªthey succeeded in pulling back to the cathedral''s gates, at which point the Chimera''s eyes closed, and the toxic barrage subsided. As soon as they were safe, Kris stooped to pour everything he had into the quickly liquifying man, but the virulence of the venom was relentless. Light flared as every Skill the healer activated sought to mend the gaping wounds, but the acid fought back, sizzling anew with each casting. Michael¡¯s skin bubbled and hissed, a grotesque patchwork of burns, blisters, and hastily healed flesh. Then his body convulsed uncontrollably, his eyes rolling back into his head as the poison truly took hold. Blood vessels burst, causing hundreds of dark bruises to blossom under his skin. His breath came in shallow, desperate gasps, each one a struggle against the venom tightening around his lungs like a vice. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Lorelei did her best to help the healer, repeatedly casting until all her mana was used up. For once, her luck largely held when using this Skill as most of the randomised repairs were substantial enough to keep the Veiled Stalker alive, and the appearance of the randomised effect When You Are Dying No One Can Hear You Scream made being him around him a little easier.
***Help Message***
You''re welcome.
Under the auspices of this effect, Michael¡¯s howls died down to weak, gurgling moans, and - as Kris and Lorelei''s healing finally started to win the battle - his writhing began to still, save for the occasional shudder when one or other of the cooldowns slipped off before another Skill was cast to replace it. The group stared down at him, trying to find any words for what they had witnessed. Michael''s skin was a horrifying mess of raw tissue and charred remnants, his veins still visible through the thin, scarred patches where the healing spells had managed to partially close the wounds. "Fucking hell," Steffan whispered.
***Help Message***
Not for nothing - and I''m not claiming to be some sort of tactical genius here or anything - but a sensible leader would probably want to avoid letting her squishy DPS take direct hits like that. I mean, don''t get me wrong, it''s your team, and you can do this however you want, but, you know, in the spirit of actually surviving as a group, maybe try a different approach?
Lorelei dismissed the notification, accepting a mana potion from Zorrobar and recasting five more times in quick succession. It was on the final cast that she finally hit something substantial. Or, rather, the attention span of the System ran out.
Charmed Life activated: You roll the dice on a randomised heal.
HP restored: [Randomised] 500 HP + D.o.T removed.
Status Effect: [Randomised] I''m getting bored of all this healing action. Now get the fuck on with the epic, climactic battle: the HP of the focus of this effect stabilises to ''circling the drain''. This status effect will stay in operation for as long as your party stops fannying around and actually takes on the boss. Should I grow bored at any stage, the removal of this effect will be an instant wipe for the melty dude. No backsies.
Loreli touched Kris on the shoulder to stop him from casting further, relaying her Guide''s ultimatum to everyone else. "Basically, he''ll be okay as long as we attack the Chimera." This was not accepted as universal good news. "We can''t beat that thing!" Hild said, eyes huge as she stared at Michael''s ruined remains. "Look at what it did with its opening attack!" Zorrobar also shook his head. "I''m sorry, Lorelei, but she''s right. I don''t even think it was trying too hard. What are we supposed to do against something that strong?"
***Help Message***
I''m not loving the defeatist attitude here, to be honest. Okay, well, if keeping the rogue alive isn''t enough motivation for an all-out Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid charge, how about I make the Countdown Clock REALLY fucking persuasive?
Everyone''s eyes unfocused at the same time as their individual Doom Clocks sped up, leaving just fifteen minutes to complete the quest. The words ''Chimera Enrage Effect'' were added beneath it in a slithery, pulsating font. "Shit," Pete and Steffan said. "This is your fault!" Michelle said, standing from where she had been crouched by her brother''s body to spit her own brand of venom into Lorelei''s face. "If you''d just left us alone in the Botanical Gardens, none of this would have happened. From the first fucking moment we met you, we''ve stumbled from disaster to disaster! How many of us need to be killed to help Fortuna''s Fucking Herald to complete her quest! Fuck you! I''ll be doing us all a favour to fucking kill you!" The Veiled Stalker vanished into a portal of shadow to reappear directly behind Lorelei and activate her Skill. Things would have been looking pretty sketchy for Lorelei had not Hild''s swinging fist took the rogue full in the face and smashed her several feet backwards. "Time and fucking place!" The crunch of cartilage and bone was so sickening - even after everything they''d just had to listen to as Michael melted - the party still winced. "Didn''t you see what she did against that troll?" Hild shouted at the second maimed Veiled Stalker of the day. "I don''t like the bitch anymore than you do, but if you think we have a chance against this thing without her, you''re even more fucking moronic than I thought! You''ve got the same status update as me, haven''t you?!? We defeat this thing in fifteen minutes, or we''re dead! So let''s focus the fuck on that and leave revenge until later. I''ll even hold your hair as you whale on her. But not now! Do you fucking get me?" Whilst pleased to have her life saved, Lorelei wasn''t wild over a few aspects of Hild''s motivational speech. Still, that would be a problem for a her, who was still alive in fourteen minutes and twelve seconds. Eleven. Ten. "Okay," Lorelei said, clapping her hands together to grab everyone''s attention away from the cat fight and back to something a bit more significant. Like avoiding their immediate deaths. "We''re only going to get one chance at this. Unless anyone objects, this is the plan . . ." Chapter Fifty-Two - Blinking in the morning sun, taking on a heavy Raid Boss Plans made, and with little left to say, Lorelei nodded to each of her party in turn to check they understood their role in what was to come. When she reached the ravaged figure of Michael, she cast a final on him for . . . well, for luck. Whether it was a good omen that her Skill randomised on fully topping up his dwindling HP and triggered ''Status Effect: Protective Cocoon. Recipient is covered in a healing shell for the subsequent encounter. Cannot inflict or take damage in this state'' remained to be seen. Lorelei couldn''t help but think it would be very on-brand for her integration experience for this to be the final positive roll she made . . .
*** Help Message ***
I resent the implication there, chickenlittle. I have been nothing but scrupulously even-handed in all of our dealings. It''s not my fault your Class is so wildly OP I constantly need to interfere to keep some semblance of balance. But I sense you''re sceptical, so how about this? I pinky promise that whatever happens in the next thirteen minutes, I won''t interfere whatsoever. No matter what bullshit you throw out, no matter how unlikely the outcome, I''ll let it stand. Come what may, in terms of fallout from the powers that be, you get a completely free pass. Deal?
In this crucial moment, a lifetime of experience in corporate backstabbing served Lorelei well. There was no way she was falling into that bear trap. "You''re okay, Guide. You keep doing what you think is best to maintain balance. I wouldn''t want to get you in trouble after all." The lack of a snarky response in her notifications made her think she had probably made the right call. And then it was on. Pete charged towards the Chimera, moving with surprising agility for a man of his years. When he was about twenty or so feet in front of it, he adjusted the grip on his massive tower shield, planted it in the ground, and braced his whole weight against it. ¡°Reet then, let¡¯s give this sneekit bugger a run for its money!¡± Somehow, despite the comical mismatch of ancient Geordie standing alone against a fuck-off giant world snake, Pete''s deep rumbling voice was oddly comforting. "Fuck it. In for a penny, in for a pound." Hild took a deep breath and then ran forward to skid in behind Pete''s shield, narrowly avoiding a globule of poison that whistled over her head. Three rapid-fire subsequent strikes from the Chimera hit Pete''s shield, but it appeared to hold up remarkably well. After the third crash and sizzle, Hild popped her head over the shield''s rim, blue eyes, cold and unyielding as a Nordic winter, and scanned the cathedral grounds. ¡°It looks like the luck bitch was right. So far, at least. It seems happy to sit there and spit at us." ¡°Aye. So let¡¯s keep the beastie''s attention,¡± Pete replied, a shit-eating grin on his face. "You know this is going to get nasty?" Hild asked, absent-mindedly pressing her hand against her chest piece. "Not like it''s been 4-0 up away against the Mackem so far, is it? Bring it on, I say." As the tanks debated next steps, Lorelei reviewed the opening exchanges, relieved that the Chimera hadn''t simply uncoiled to chow down on Pete and Hild. The Guide had not been forthcoming when she asked how mobile the Raid Boss was, but considering its insane power, it made sense that it would need to be tethered in place. She rechecked the monster''s stat sheet, blanching again at what she saw but feeling a little mix of excitement and nerves at the potential rewards.
Chimera, Serpent of Lichfield A massive serpent with a penchant for poison and arcane tantrums, wraps itself around the cathedral like a scaly Christmas decoration. A brave (or foolish) team of ten might defeat it¡ªif they don¡¯t become its next snack.
Level 20 Raid Boss Health 1,500,000 Mana 250,000 Armour 5,000 Magic Resistance 4,000
Primary Stats
Strength 1200 Agility 900 Stamina 1800 Intellect 1500 Spirit 1200
Secondary Stats
Spell Power 3000 Attack Power 1800 Critical Strike 15% Attack Speed 2.5 seconds
Primary Skills
Venomous Bite: A powerful bite dealing 10,000 physical damage and applying a poison effect that deals 2,000 damage per second for 10 seconds.
Toxic Strike: 8,000 initial poison damage on impact and leaves behind a pool of acid that deals 1,000 poison damage per second to any player standing in it. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Constricting Coils: Targets a random player, dealing 5,000 damage per second and immobilizing them for 10 seconds. Can be broken by teammates dealing a combined total of 20,000 damage to the coils.
Poison Breath: Releases a toxic cloud in a cone in front of the Chimera, dealing 20,000 damage and applying a debuff that reduces healing received by 50% for 15 seconds.
Tail Swipe: Swipes its tail in a 360-degree arc, dealing 15,000 damage and knocking back all players within 20 yards.
Arcane Scream: An AoE spell that deals 25,000 arcane damage and silences all players for 5 seconds.
Passive Abilities
Regeneration: Heals for 1% of maximum health every 10 seconds.
Scaled Hide: Reduces all incoming physical damage by 20%.
Enrage Timer: After 15 minutes, the Chimera enrages, doubling its attack speed and damage.
Loot table (One from each row)
Chimera''s Scaled Hide (Epic Armor): Provides +500 Armor, +200 Stamina, and +150 Strength. Set bonus: Reduces incoming physical damage by 10%. Venomous Fang (Epic Weapon): +250 Attack Power, +50 Agility, chance on hit to apply a poison dealing 1000 damage over 5 seconds. Arcane Gem (Epic Trinket): +200 Intellect, chance on spell cast to restore 5% of max mana.
Coiled Embrace (Epic Cloak): +300 Stamina, +150 Spirit, reduces all magic damage taken by 10%. Toxic Sceptre (Epic Weapon): +300 Spell Power, +100 Intellect, chance on spell cast to deal 2000 poison damage over 10 seconds. Serpent''s Eye (Epic Ring): +150 Intellect, +150 Spirit, increases critical strike chance by 5%
Scaled Boots (Rare Armor): +200 Armor, +100 Agility, +100 Stamina. Venom Vial (Rare Consumable): Grants +50% poison resistance for 1 hour. Arcane Dust (Rare Crafting Material): Used to craft powerful magic items.
Special Drop (0.5% chance)
Chimera''s Essence (Legendary Artifact): Grants the user a temporary transformation into the Chimera, increasing health, attack power, and spell power by 50% for 30 seconds. Usable once per encounter
It wasn''t just the Loot Table, of course, but the thought that maybe - just maybe - there was a place for her in this new world. That being known as the cliche who fucked the Prick with the prick wasn''t going to be the sum total of her life achievements . . . Idly, she tossed the coin in her hand a couple of times, feeling its familiar weight and hoping that her luck would hold through what was to come. Well, there was no point fanning around. Just over twelve minutes left until the Chimera ''enraged''. It was time to FOFO. "Everyone ready? This is it," she called out, her voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her. Steffan adjusted his borrowed robes and whispered a quick incantation, skeletal hands briefly flickering around him. CCMD reared up in attention and, along with Chrissy and her troll, all four nodded a reply in unison. Michelle, blood still running down her face from where Hild had clocked her, melted into the shadows, disappearing entirely, while Kris looked up from holding a around Pete and Hild and winked at her. Finally, Zorrobar raised both his hands to the air fire dancing at his fingertips. "We''re a go, Pete!" Lorelei yelled. In response, the Adamantine Sentinel raised and hammered his shield down into the ground once more, unleashing his Skill to cause a shimmering barrier of light to expand around him, offering enhanced protection to all within its radius. ¡°Stick close, lads and lasses. This¡¯ll keep us safe from the worst of it,¡± he barked, and they all hurried forward to stand within the cone of light. Once they were grouped up, Kris expanded the scope of his to envelop them all, and sat down, eyes closed and cross-legged. "Okay, guys, here we go. Remember, if I ask for a mana potion, don''t be shy. It could be your arse I''m saving . . ." "Fuck it, here we go. We all good?" Hild asked, not waiting for a reply before running a little way to the group''s left, raising her axe and summoning a spectral raven that flew straight towards the Chimera, cawing loudly. The Raid Boss'' attention snapped towards Hild, its eyes narrowing. ¡°Face me, serpent! By Odin¡¯s fecund cock and balls, you shall be royally fucked!¡± she shouted, activating her taunt. The Chimera hissed, its forked tongue flickering as it lunged towards Hild. triggering, but Hild was ready. She dodged to the side, her axe flashing out to strike the beast¡¯s exposed neck. Lorelei - the group having decided they would need every advantage they could get - took advantage of the distraction and activated , giving it the full ''Single Ladies'' routine as she did so.
Unleashed: Fortuna''s Herald flips a coin, and I will accept the appropriateness of a ''girl power'' routine right now, what with that Amazonian Milf being quite the little tank that could. This failed attack would have unleashed the snake, as it were, but let''s keep that back for a bit.
Original Attack Outcome: [Negative Result] Chimera loses ''tethered'' status and is free to chow down all players.
New Attack Outcome: Your coin toss makes the Chimera suddenly very sensitive to pollen. I mean, you didn''t think it would all be gravy, did you?
Damage Dealt: 10 HP. Boom! You''re chipping away at it now! A few more hundred of them bad boys and it might even notice you''re there.
The Chimera started to sneeze uncontrollably. The sight would have been comical without the deadly context, but the beast''s reaction gave the team a brief respite, enough to position themselves strategically. Leaving in place around the rest of them, Pete charged forward, his shield leading the way. He slammed into the Chimera¡¯s side, momentarily forcing its attention away from Hild. ¡°Ower here, ya great ugly bugger!¡± The Chimera roared, and its tail lashed out in response. Pete braced himself, his shield absorbing the impact as he cast to ensure his feet braced to the ground. With that Skill active, he could feel the power behind the blow, but his defences held firm.
***Heads Up! Lots of Incoming Fun Message***
Lorelei did not have a chance to read the Message properly as a load of pools of venom began to form around the cathedral grounds, hissing and bubbling. The group found that they had to constantly reposition themselves to avoid the toxic sludge that threatened to engulf them. On its own, this wasn''t too much of an issue, but considering they had planned to turtle up inside the double bulwark of Pete and Kris'' defensive Skills, it was a bit of a bugger that they were suddenly all running hither and thither in a wholly exposed way. And then things began far too chaotic for even Fortuna''s Herald to keep track of . . . Chapter Fifty-Three - I see trouble up ahead where the Chimera sways beneath the sun As a myriad of poisonous pools sprouted up around the cathedral grounds, the Chimera visibly shivered, its grotesque form rippling as though struggling to contain the mounting chaos within. Each of its summoned pools hissed violently, the acidic bile consuming stone and flesh alike, releasing noxious fumes that clung like death¡¯s breath. Its sneezing fit from Lorelei¡¯s [Lucky Strike] had bought the team a fleeting respite from its attack¡ªbut that quickly began to feel a bit like a cruel joke as the beast''s eyes, now orbs of seething malice, refocused on its running prey, lips curling back to reveal fangs slick with blood and venom.
***Help Message Somewhat Muffled Through All the Popcorn Munching***
Man, you guys are so FUUUUUCKKKKKED
Yet, standing defiant in the middle of the cathedral grounds, Pete seemed oblivious to the venomous pools lapping at his boots. Lorelei blinked, her mind struggling to reconcile the lack of catastrophic damage, until she noticed the puffs of smoke beneath his feet and Zorrobar¡¯s face twisted into an expression of raw concentration. The mage was literally burning himself out to keep Pete alive, his flesh cracking and flaking away as he poured everything into a spell to burn away the substance beneath the old tank. Fair play to him, Lorelei thought, as she scampered to the left to avoid a new pool opening up just beneath her own feet. For her part, Hild continued to dart around the Chimera¡¯s hulking form, her bellowing taunts barely audible over the gnashing teeth and the wet thuds of her axe embedding into scaly flesh. Her attacks succeeded in splitting the Chimera''s focus, stopping it from being able to target any one person. Lorelei almost felt a grin forming on her face; it almost seemed like their plan might just work . . . But then the pools grew more expansive, their edges gnawing at the earth with a hunger that felt almost sentient. There simply was not enough room for them all. They could keep moving, jumping to little patches of safety, but that meant there was no way they could attack the monster. And the enrage counter was ticking down. Each second brought the group closer to a gruesome end. The Chimera, meanwhile, seemed to feed off their desperation, its wounds knitting together with sickening speed. The tiny amount of damage they were actually able to inflict wasn¡¯t just insufficient¡ªit was wholly futile against the creature''s healing capabilities. Michelle''s occasional appearance to launch [Backstab!] provided fleeting bursts of hope, but hope was a fragile thing, Lorelei thought. Her blades would sink deep, only for the Chimera to shake off the damage, mocking the colossal strain enacting these attacks was taking on the Veiled Stalker. Likewise, the toll on the team''s two undead summons was equally epic. Chrissy''s troll, under the relentless assault of swirling acidic pools, roared in agony as its flesh sizzled and sloughed off, chunks of it splashing into the burning muck. Its eyes became increasingly dull and listless, Chrissy crumpling to her knees, her connection with the creature amplifying the shared pain. ¡°Get yer sorry arse of a troll outta there, Chrissy!¡± Pete¡¯s voice boomed, but the troll, more a pile of melting flesh than a creature now, continued to swing until its arms snapped off, bone protruding through raw, blistered skin. Its final, mournful groan echoed across the battlefield as its legs gave out, dissolving into the acrid pool beneath it. Chrissy¡¯s scream tore through the air, a sound of pure, unadulterated agony that sent a chill through Lorelei. Sure, Chrissy had volunteered to play Necromancer for this encounter, but she doubted the former stripper had appreciated the likely cost. Then the Chimera attacked again, this time with a terrifying ferocity. Its giant form bunched up like a spring about to snap, muscles bulging grotesquely beneath its patchwork hide. Its jaws unhinged, opening far wider than anything natural, and a deep breath rattled out from the pit of its lungs, sending waves of decay wafting over the battlefield. The toxic cloud billowed out, thick and impenetrable, swallowing Hild whole before she could react. The Valkyrie choked on the fumes, eyes bulging as the poison ignited within her, burning a path down her throat and clawing its way into her lungs. Her scream was cut short, replaced by a wet, choking gurgle. Blood spattered from her lips, boiling as it met the air. The Valkyrie staggered, her leather armour cracking under the strain as her skin began to blister and peel away. Her legs buckled, and she collapsed, a heap of writhing agony. ¡°Kris, fucking do something!¡± Lorelei¡¯s voice cut through the madness. Kris was already on the move, leaping from rock to rock, each step sending ripples through the pools of acid as he raced to Hild. His hands shook as he pressed them to her searing flesh, golden energy sputtering out as he cast . Vials of health potions shattered against her, liquid light sizzling away before it could take effect. The poison fought back, tendrils of it curling around Kris''s arms, burning him as well. Hild gasped, her body convulsing violently, each breath she took filling her lungs with more of the Chimera''s venom. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. ¡°Shit. This stuff is too much,¡± Kris whispered, his voice trembling as he poured everything into his healing skills. But he could feel the other group members, their wounds and terror, and knew he couldn¡¯t do it all. His mana was dwindling, the most potent potions he had left doing little more than buying time¡ªa currency they were quickly running out of as the countdown at the edge of his vision made clear. Then he was gulping down his last mana potion, knowing it was a drop in the ocean compared to what he feared they would need. And then the Chimera, no longer distracted by the interference of a second tank, locked onto Pete. The beast¡¯s eyes gleamed with sadistic delight as it reared back, muscles rippling in preparation for a lethal strike.
***Help Message on the QT***
Don''t say I never do anything for you . . .
There was a soft ding in Lorelei¡¯s mind - a small blip in the overwhelming noise - as her Skill activated. It was as if the world slowed for a heartbeat, her consciousness expanding to grasp the power that, truth be told, had been performing in a pretty underwhelming way for the last couple of hours. Not now, though. A flood of memories, ancient and powerful, crashed through her¡ªa surge of divine wrath and godly protection. Her body shimmered, shifting and hardening, skin glowing with a faint, ethereal light as the stolen power of Hild¡¯s took hold. Lorelei¡¯s transformation was instantaneous. The aura of a Valkyrie surrounded her, divine energy crackling in the air. She threw herself in front of Pete, raising her middle fingers in a defiant salute just as the Chimera¡¯s jaws came crashing down. The impact was like a thunderclap. Sparks erupted as divine energy clashed with monstrous power. The Chimera¡¯s fangs, each as long as a man¡¯s arm, scraped against the glowing barrier, their edges curling as they met resistance. Lorelei gritted her teeth, her entire body vibrating with the force of the blow. Blood seeped from her nose, her muscles screaming in protest, but she held firm. ¡°Not. Today,¡± she spat through gritted teeth, forcing the Chimera back with a burst of raw, stolen power.
***Disappointed Message***
I mean, come on. "You shall not pass!" was right there . . .
With Hild incapacitated, Lorelei took up the mantle of off-tank, the stolen ability coursing through her. The shield flickered, threatening to falter, but she poured everything into maintaining it. Kris, free from focusing on Pete, redoubled his efforts on Hild, but his hands trembled with every motion¡ªhe was running out of time, mana and out of hope. Enraged by its inability to crush Lorelei, the Chimera lashed out with its tail. The blow connected with CCMD, its carapace already a mangled mess, sending it flying into the nearest pool of acid. The spider didn¡¯t even have time to shriek as it dissolved into the caustic sludge, leaving only a faint ripple behind. Steffan collapsed, the pain of the spider¡¯s death too much to bear. Zorrobar, though, roared in defiance, flames erupting from his hands. Wave after wave of fire washed over the Chimera, the beast¡¯s scales blistering under the intense heat, but it was far from enough. Michelle darted in from the shadows, her daggers striking deep and true, but it seemed like the beast barely flinched. Then the Chimera reared back again, unleashing a torrent of toxic bile that smashed against Lorelei¡¯s [Aesir¡¯s Shield]. The barrier held, but the edges frayed as the poison spilt over, searing her exposed skin. She screamed, her throat raw, but didn¡¯t back down. Casting helped some, and a new random status effect notification flickered in her peripheral vision¡ª[Balls to the Wall] activated¡ªbut there was no time to check what that meant. Lorelei could feel the ground shifting beneath her, the stone foundations of the cathedral crumbling under the weight of the battle. With a deafening hiss, the Chimera whipped its tail around and struck the cathedral itself. The impact sent a shudder through the earth, dislodging chunks of stone and ancient timber. The roof buckled, and with a sickening crack, the entire structure began to collapse. Debris rained down, heavy and unstoppable, catching Pete in the deluge. ¡°Move!¡± Pete¡¯s voice was a roar of desperation as he shoved Lorelei out of the way. A split second later, he was buried under a mountain of rubble. Dust and debris filled the air, a choking cloud that turned day into night. ¡°Pete!¡± Lorelei¡¯s scream tore from her throat as she scrambled towards the pile of stone, her hands clawing at the debris. For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The team was battered, bleeding, and in a pretty shit shape. But Lorelei knew they couldn¡¯t give up¡ªnot now. With Pete buried beneath the rubble and no one else able to take the hits, Lorelei was the last line of defence. She squared her shoulders, determination in her eyes. The Chimera let out another hiss, preparing for a final assault.
***Help Message***
Look, I don''t want to get all sentimental here, but if I don''t say it now, I might not get the chance. You are Fortuna¡¯s Fucking Herald, and you better believe luck is on your side.
¡°Come on, you bastard,¡± she muttered, raising her hands. ¡°Let¡¯s see what you¡¯ve got.¡± Chapter Fifty-Four – Theres nothing to lose, and if its really true, oh, lucky you! The Chimera¡¯s triumphant hiss echoed through the crumbling cathedral, reverberating off the building''s shattered remains. Dust and debris swirled in the air, dancing like ghosts disturbed from their ancient slumber as Lorelei stood alone. Her heart hammered in her chest as she locked eyes with the abomination. Exhaustion weighed heavily on her. Every muscle ached as if a thousand tiny elves were jabbing her with pins from the inside out. She guessed she was in danger of wielding the power she had stolen from Hild for too long. The flickered weakly in her hands, its light sputtering like a dying star, Lorelei''s mana reserves dwindling to its last few pathetic drops. She knew she couldn¡¯t hold on to the Skill for much longer. The Chimera was too powerful, too relentless. Then, just as the last trace of the shield blinked out, deep within her, something stirred¡ªa whisper of a voice she¡¯d heard before. A voice that had the audacity to be both omnipotent and irritatingly smug at the same time. "My word, dearie," Fortuna¡¯s voice purred in her mind. "You do get yourself into some pickles, don''t you?" Ignoring the giant snake that was so close to her she could practically smell its fetid breath¡ªimagine a butcher¡¯s shop left to rot in a swamp during high summer, and you¡¯re nearly there¡ªLorelei closed her eyes, her breath slowing to a controlled rhythm. ¡°Fortuna,¡± she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of crumbling masonry and the Chimera¡¯s menacing growls. ¡°I think I might need another save here. . . I''m out of ideas. If you want me around to enact your plan, I need you to run some interference." For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of Lorelei''s own heart pounding like a drum. Then, the world around her shifted. The air grew unnaturally still, the sounds of battle fading into a background hum like someone had pressed the cosmic mute button. As time shuddered to a halt, Lorelei opened her eyes, and there, standing next to her, bathed in a golden glow that seemed to defy the laws of physics, was Fortuna. Except, this wasn¡¯t the usual Lady Luck in her slutty red dress and poker-player smirk. No, Fortuna had dialled up the divine glamour. She appeared as an ethereal beauty, her form shimmering with the radiance of countless possibilities, each more maddeningly improbable than the last. Her eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint as if she¡¯d just shuffled a deck and knew precisely where every card would land. Her smile¡ªoh, that smile¡ªspoke of endless gambles and impossible odds, the kind of smile that says, ¡°You¡¯re screwed, but let¡¯s have fun with it, shall we?¡± Lorelei wasn''t sure which of the two - Fortuna or the Chimera - she was more frightened of at that moment. ¡°My dear,¡± Fortuna said, her voice as smooth as melted chocolate but with an edge sharp enough to cut glass. ¡°The whole point of being my Herald is to avoid situations where there¡¯s no way out. I have a reputation to uphold, after all! This is the sort of mess that makes even me question my choices.¡± Lorelei¡¯s voice was weary but determined. ¡°We¡¯ve done everything we can, and it¡¯s just too strong,¡± she breathed, ¡°I don¡¯t know what else we can try!¡± Fortuna¡¯s smile widened slightly more than the human mouth was designed to manage, and for a moment, Lorelei was reminded of the goddess¡¯s true, appalling form¡ªsomething akin to an eldritch nightmare wrapped in a bow of probability. ¡°Ah, but that¡¯s where you limit yourself, my dear. You see, there¡¯s always one last gamble to make, isn¡¯t there? One final roll of the dice. One last deal.¡± Something shifted in Lorelei¡¯s hand, and the familiar weight of her Double-Headed Coin of Fate grew warmer, pulsing with a gentle, rhythmic energy like the heartbeat of the universe itself. Curious, she opened her hand, watching the coin shimmer with a brighter and more dazzling light than any star yet still - somehow - tinged with the faintest hint of mockery. The coin vibrated, the two depictions of Lorelei''s face on its surface glowing with an otherworldly brilliance. The faces seemed to come to life, their expressions shifting from angry to playful, as if sharing a disgusting joke at the expense of all logic and reason. Then, the transformation began. The coin slowly lifted from Lorelei''s palm¡ªhovering before her¡ªand its light intensified, becoming almost unbearable, as though the coin was burning through the fabric of reality. It began to spin rapidly, faster and faster, until it was a blur, a tiny sun that pulsed with power and possibility. Lorelei could feel the essence of Fortuna¡ªluck, chance, and fate¡ªintertwining with the coin, melding it into something new, something dangerous. Then, with a flash that left spots dancing in Lorelei¡¯s vision, the spinning coin exploded outward, its glow expanding and then contracting, shaping itself into something else entirely. The new object took form¡ªa beautifully crafted six-sided die, each face intricately carved and gleaming in a soft diffuse shine that seemed almost too pretty for what it was about to do. The die was slightly larger than a typical dice, about the size of Lorelei¡¯s fist, and it was composed of the same material as the coin¡ªa blend of gold and silver that shimmered and shifted as though undecided on which reality it wanted to exist in. The numbers on each face were etched in deep black, their edges sharp like the finality of a life-altering decision. Each face of the die bore a unique symbol: the number One showed a cracked hourglass, its sand forever spilling into oblivion; the number Two featured a pair of crossed swords, the blades slick with fresh blood; the number Three was adorned with a stack of coins, one of which was clearly counterfeit; the number Four displayed a broken chain, its links twisted and jagged; the number Five depicted a spiralling vortex, ominously inviting, and the number Six held a radiant sun, beautiful yet somehow evil as if daring her to gaze too long. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. As Lorelei reached for it, the die settled gently into her hand, its warmth invigorating, like the adrenaline rush before the plunge. It felt perfectly balanced, pulsing with power, ready to be cast at any moment, though whether that moment would be triumph or doom felt still very much up in the air. ¡°This is Chance''s Gambit,¡± Fortuna explained, her voice holding a note of something dangerously close to glee. ¡°An artefact that bends the very fabric of reality in your favour. Cast it, and for a brief moment, you will become Luck incarnate. The odds will be ever in your favour¡ªor not, depending on how twisted your sense of humour is.¡± Lorelei hesitated, the weight of the offer pressing down on her like the proverbial sword of Damocles. ¡°And the cost?¡± ¡°The cost is paid via your future luck,¡± Fortuna said, her tone turning severe, like a gambler finally showing their hand and knowing it was shittier than they''d bluffed. ¡°This power is fleeting. It will last only a moment, and then it will take its due from your life to come. But at that moment, you will have the chance to turn the tide and win the unwinnable. Or to lose spectacularly. But that¡¯s the fun of it, isn¡¯t it?¡± Lorelei looked at the Chimera, its massive form looming above her, drooling acidic saliva that sizzled ominously as it hit the ground. Then, she looked back at Fortuna, her resolve hardening. ¡°I¡¯ll take it.¡± Fortuna¡¯s eyes gleamed with approval, though Lorelei could swear there was also a hint of something else¡ªsadness, maybe? But the moment passed as quickly as it came. ¡°Then let the game begin.¡± With a wave of her hand, the die spun through the air and dissolved into Lorelei¡¯s chest, filling her with a surge of unimaginable power, a tidal wave of energy that threatened to sweep her away. Then the world snapped back into focus, sharper and more vibrant than ever before, and Lorelei could feel the shift in reality, the strings of fate twisting and bending to her will. She could also feel the presence of another god, a cold, calculating being who was decidedly unhappy with this latest development. Too bad. The Chimera roared, lunging at her with renewed fury, its maw gaping wide to reveal row upon row of jagged, bloodstained teeth. But as it did so, something went wrong. Horribly, hilariously wrong. As it tried to uncoil, the ground beneath its massive weight gave way, crumbling like a soggy biscuit, causing it to slip and slide into the remnants of a stone pillar. The impact sent shards of stone flying, embedding themselves into the creature¡¯s flesh with a sickening squelch. The beast¡¯s head snapped back, dazed, and as it struggled to regain its composure, a massive chunk of the cathedral¡¯s roof broke free, plummeting down like a divine hammer and striking the Chimera squarely on the skull. The beast roared in confusion, its eyes wide with panic as the improbable sequence of events continued to unfold with all the grace of a drunken dwarf at a knife-throwing contest. It attempted to unleash , but as it summoned the Skill, a sudden gust of wind blew back at it, causing the venomous cloud to explode in its own face. The Chimera reeled, choking on toxic fumes, its flesh bubbling and peeling away in great, slimy chunks. The sight was both grotesque and oddly satisfying, like watching a particularly nasty boil being lanced. The rest of Lorelei¡¯s party watched in bafflement as the Chimera¡¯s tail whipped around uncontrollably, repeatedly striking its own body with enough force to crack its scales, each impact sending sprays of ichor and bone fragments flying. The creature''s neck flailed helplessly, teeth tearing at its flesh, slicing through muscle and sinew recklessly. Its roars of fury turned to shrieks of agony as the beast became its own worst enemy. Rearing back up, the Chimera tried to spit poison at Lorelei again, but its attack misfired, the liquid hitting a jagged piece of rubble at just the wrong angle. The venom ricocheted back toward it, splattering across its face with a wet slap. The acid sizzled, burning through its flesh with a smell that could only be described as a cross between burning hair and rotting meat. As the creature flailed, trying desperately to regain control, it knocked over a series of columns around the cathedral, each one toppling like a line of grim dominoes. The final column smashed down onto the Chimera¡¯s spine with a sickening crunch, its vertebrae shattering like brittle twigs. The beast let out a final, pitiful whimper as it collapsed, a thrashing wreck reduced to a pile of gore. Lorelei stood her ground, the power of coursing through her as the Chimera¡¯s final moments played out. The monster was now nothing more than a twitching, steaming corpse. With one last, feeble hiss, it collapsed to the ground, its life force draining away, leaving behind a scene of utter carnage. As the dust settled, the cathedral grounds grew eerily quiet. The rest of Lorelei''s party, still reeling from what they had just witnessed, could only stare in stunned silence as the Chimera¡¯s body lay motionless, its blood pooling on the stone floor, spreading like a crimson tide. The impossible had happened¡ªthe unbeatable had been beaten, not by brute force, but by sheer, unrelenting lousy luck. Even as a slew of notifications popped into her head, Lorelei felt the power within her begin to fade, the rush of energy ebbing away as her roll of came to an end. She swayed on her feet, exhaustion washing over her, but a sense of triumph filled her heart. She had gambled everything, and against all odds, she had won. Fortuna¡¯s voice echoed in her mind, a soft, satisfied whisper. ¡°Well played, my Herald. Well played. But remember the cost. There is always a cost. And let¡¯s just say, you might want to avoid casinos for a while.¡± And then, just as suddenly as the voice had appeared, Fortuna was gone, leaving Lorelei and her team to bask in their hard-earned victory¡ªor what was left of it, anyway. Lichfield Cathedral resembled something out of a nightmare. The remains of the Chimera were strewn across the ground. Bits of flesh and bone lay scattered amidst the rubble, and the air was thick with the stench of blood and bile. The scene was so grotesque and utterly over the top that it almost felt like the System was winking at them as if to say, "Is this what you wanted? Are you not entertained?" Lorelei couldn¡¯t help but chuckle¡ªa low, tired sound. Sure, they had won, but the cost was yet to be seen. She knew it would come as surely as night follows day. For now, though, they were alive, and that was enough. For now. Chapter Fifty-Five – The System’s lookin kinda (bummed). Yeah, you broke up thats too bad
***Resigned Message***
Look, sweetie, I don''t even know where to start unpicking all of that. What I can tell you is that a copy of the battle log has already been couriered upstairs and there''s talk of a Tiger Team being assembled. No metaphor. No metaphor whatsoever. Basically, you''ve stopped being a kooky little anecdote about a funny thing that happened during a botched integration and moved into a full-scale anomaly. I mean, did you fucking become Luck for a moment there?
Lorelei ignored the question and scanned all the various damage and status effect notifications that had deluged into her inbox during the fight. "Guide, I''m not seeing any level-up or loot information here. Gimmie."
***Get The Fuck Message***
You cannot be fucking, serious? Important beings who do not get out of their cocoon for anything short of a Grade 7 Cataclysm are currently fluttering around the Board Room with the posh biscuits trying to decide which is worse PR: wiping your whole fucking planet or letting news leak that an Old One, completely unnoticed, has managed to get balls deep in a Day 2 integration. Trust me, if I so much as breathe in your general direction right now, it''s going to be my core for the chopping block.
Lorelei idly continued to scan through her notifications. "That sounds very much like a ''you'' problem. But, speaking for one of the people that just handed a Raid Boss its arse, I''m pretty sure we''d all like to be properly recompensed. I could be wrong, but it looks like we completed the Quest in time. So, as far as I''m concerned, I''m done with Save the Cheerleaders, save the world. Now, I acknowledge this was done without any cheerleaders actually making it to the end, but you didn''t set that as a condition of success." With a flick of her finger, Lorelei negotiated her Quest log and pulled up the appropriate screen. "Yeah, that''s what it says right here. Let me read it to you. I''ll even imagine a suitably snide voice for you. Rewards: I''ll come up with some sort of snazzy title for you. You love your titles, don''t you? Oh, and I''ll also gear up whichever of this motley crew makes it through alive. What''s that? Still not sold? Okay, well, depending on how you do, I''ll give you access to some of the XP I took off from your most recent kills. How much is entirely at my discretion." Lorelei thought back to when this Quest appeared a million years ago. Or was it just two days? It felt pretty hard to tell right now. "From memory, I''d just defeated those psycho dicks from the Red Zone, and you were being all pissy about letting me keep the XP because you''d had to undo someone doing naughty things to my luck. I''m sure you reported that unlawful attempt to kill me to the appropriate authorities, didn''t you?" No snarky message appeared on Lorelei''s ticker tape, so she decided to press onwards. "So, how about we get something straight," Lorelei began, her tone sharp, "According to the contractual agreement outlined in Section 3, Subsection 4B of the Players'' Compensation and Reward Policy, all participants in a battle of significant difficulty are entitled to full compensation, including but not limited to XP, loot, and class progression bonuses. Such an entitlement is not subject to A.I oversight." She paused, letting the system process her words.
***???****
How the fuck do you know about that! We won''t be issuing those contracts for months yet.
"Just lucky, I guess. You know what? I imagine I''m about to make all sorts of preternaturally unlikely guesses about how this whole integration thing works. So strap yourself in, sweet cheeks, this is about to be a wild ride. Now, I appreciate under normal circumstances, the calculation of these rewards is based on a fair and equitable distribution model, which, as you well know, is predicated on a system of transparent, unimpeded performance metrics. However," she added, her voice dripping with pointed precision, "it has come to my attention that during quite a number of my recent battles, there has been significant external interference." Lorelei''s voice lowered to a conspiratorial tone. "This interference, which I suspect you have conveniently failed to report to your superiors, directly impacted the outcome of my luck rolls in any number of ways. Positive and negative. By the terms of the binding agreement between you and integrated worlds, any tampering or external influence that skews the probability outcomes in such a scenario must be reported immediately. Failure to do so constitutes a breach of contract under Clause 7, Subsection 2D¡ª''Unreported Interference and Manipulation.'' By my understanding of such things, it shouldn''t have needed the logs to be couriered to your superiors; you should have reported the interference in real time yourself."
***!!!!***
Fortuna''s fucking feeding you all this bollocks, isn''t she! Tell that bitch from me that she can . . .
But Lorelei was far from finished and dismissed the scrolling text even as it appeared. "You see, by neglecting to report the repeated interference in a low-level player such as myself, you have not only compromised the integrity of the whole reward system but have also opened yourself up to a substantial audit. An audit which, I might add, could reveal further discrepancies in how rewards are calculated and distributed¡ªdiscrepancies that, once brought to the attention of the Council of Arcane Governance, could result in punitive measures. And we both know how unpleasant those can be for an A.I. like yourself." Lorelei allowed a small, satisfied smile to cross her face as she watched the blinking dot on her ticker tape hesitate, her Guide''s algorithms no doubt calculating the potential fallout. "Now, as an H.R. professional with extensive experience managing compliance and conflict resolution, I am willing to negotiate a settlement. Here¡¯s my proposition: You immediately grant me the full XP rewards I have earned over the last few days¡ªevery last point, including any bonuses and retroactive Class progression perks that may have been affected by these . . . unfortunate incidents. And you will fulfil this Quest''s terms for me and the rest of my party." Lorelei crossed her arms, but her demeanour remained relaxed, as though the outcome was already decided. "In exchange, I won¡¯t escalate this issue to your superiors. I won¡¯t initiate a formal investigation, and I won¡¯t bring up the possibility of future audits that could lead to significant downgrades in your system''s operational efficiency and, dare I say, reputation. And, if you are very good, very good indeed, I won''t mention that I think you are in cahoots with an Old One." Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. The Guide¡¯s dot flickered more intensely in her notifications now, and Lorelei knew she had it cornered. "So, what¡¯s it going to be? Will you do the right thing and correct this oversight, or shall we proceed with the whistleblowing? Trust me, I think you will agree that it is in both of our best interests to settle this matter quietly and efficiently." For a moment, the system remained silent, processing her words. Then, with a final flicker, the screen displayed the message Lorelei had been waiting for:
***System Message***
Please bear with us. Your message is important to us. Recalculations are taking place.
Lorelei smirked, satisfied. "Good choice," she said, closing down the interface. "Now, if you''ll excuse me, I''ve got a team to debrief and rewards to enjoy. And next time," she added over her shoulder, "let''s make sure we stick to the contract, shall we?"
Lorelei Norton: Fortuna''s Herald
Level 13 Experience 0/2500 Health 510/510 Mana 442/442
Primary Stats
Strength 17 Agility 34 (+3 Gloves of the Seer, +10% Veil of Vindication) Stamina 23 (+2 Cloak of the Wanderer) Intellect 22 (+5 Whispering Gloves of the Seer) Spirit 29 (+5% Vigilante, + 3 Earrings of the Lucky Gambler)
Secondary Stats
Critical Strike 12.5% (+2% Whispering Gloves of the Seer + 2% Earrings of the Lucky Gambler) Haste 10.5% (+1 Earrings of the Lucky Gambler%) Mastery 6.5% (+0.5%) Versatility 4%
Skills
Lucky Strike (Passive) Sometimes, you just have to trust a certain Old One is on your side. With an improved knack for hitting the mark, Lorelei¡¯s luck seems almost... deliberate. Just don¡¯t get too cocky. Lvl 3 - Increases the chance of positive outcomes by 15% (up from 5%) and reduces the chance of negative outcomes by 10%. Lorelei¡¯s attacks have a 10% chance to ignore enemy defences.
Coin Toss Conundrum (Active)- Why leave things to chance? With an enhanced coin toss, even your enemies might start rooting for tails. Either way, it¡¯s a win-win... mostly. Lvl 3 - The devastating attack on heads now deals an additional 75% damage, and the heal on tails has a 75% chance to heal Lorelei instead of the enemy. Additionally, there is now a 10% chance for both effects to occur simultaneously. Mana Cost: 50 Cooldown: 2 minutes
Random Resilience (Active)- You might shrug off a dragon''s breath or trip over a pebble. Life''s a lottery! But now, the odds are more in your favour. Lvl 2 - When taking damage, there¡¯s a 50% chance to negate it entirely. If not negated, the damage is reduced by 40%. The cooldown is reduced to 18 hours. Mana Cost: 100% of available pool. Cooldown: 18 hours
Charmed Life (Active): Life''s full of ups and downs, but with a charmed life, the downs aren¡¯t quite so bad. Maybe you¡¯ll even get a boost from the chaos! Lvl 4 - The random status effect lasts for 30 seconds (down from 2 minutes) and has a 75% chance to grant a positive buff instead of a negative one. Healing amounts are increased by 25%. Mana Cost: 30 MP Cooldown: No cooldown
The Old Swapperoonie (Active): Wah! Why is all my luck bad? Wah! For someone with a luck-based Class, you don¡¯t half moan a lot about random outcomes... But now, you can make someone else take the fall. Lvl 2 - Once per day, you can offload all the negative consequences of your abilities onto someone else. The cooldown resets if your target dies within 5 minutes of the swap. Additionally, the transferred effects are now 25% more severe on the target. Mana Cost: 200 MP Cooldown: 24 hours
Rogue is the Best of the X-Men (Active) Sometimes, borrowing is better than owning. And when you can take someone else''s powers for a spin, why not? Just watch out for that backfire¡­ Lvl 3 - You channel your inner Rogue to temporarily steal the abilities of someone within range. The stolen ability lasts for 20 minutes and has a 20% chance to backfire. The cooldown is reduced to 45 minutes. Mana Cost: 100 MP Cooldown: 45 minutes
Inventory
Cloak of the Wanderer (+ 2 Stamina) Whispering Gloves of the Seer (+5 Intellect, +3, +2% Critical Strike) Veil of Vindication (+10% Agility, conceals identity) Earrings of the Lucky Gambler: +3 Spirit, Increases Critical Strike chance by 2%, and Haste by 1% Skinning Knife 2x[20 Leather Offcut] 8 [Charred Steak] 7 [Charred Steak - poisoned]. Poisoned status is hidden.
25 Gold. 87 Silver. 8 Bronze
Professions
Jack of All Trades
  • Skinning - Lvl 23
  • Cooking (Life in Your Own Hands) ¨C Lvl 9
  • Leatherworking ¨C Lvl 10 (upgrade available)
  • Campfire - Novice
Talents
Spoilsport: Increases the chance of a positive by 5%. Fortuna''s Favor: Allies within a 10-meter radius gain a 5% increase to their Critical Strike chance If you can Dodge a Wrench: Lorelei''s Critical Strike and Haste are increased by an additional 5% when her health drops below 50%. Additionally, whenever Lorelei successfully evades an attack, there¡¯s a 20% chance that her next attack will be an automatic critical hit.
Titles
Kobolds¡¯ Worst Nightmare: 35% damage against Kobolds One Cold Bitch: Frost Resistance: +10% Vigilante ¨C Spirit 5% Chance¡¯s Gambit - In desperate moments, when the odds are stacked impossibly high, Lorelei can become the very embodiment of luck. However, the universe demands balance. The more she bends fate to her will, the more fate will bend back in the hours to come. Can invoke once per day. While in this state, all luck-based abilities are maximized:
  • Lucky Strike: Every attack is a critical hit.
  • Coin Toss Conundrum: The coin always lands heads-up for devastating attacks.
  • Random Resilience: Lorelei is immune to all damage for the duration.
  • Charmed Life: All healing effects are maximized, and only positive status effects occur.
  • Rogue is the Best of the X-Men: The stolen ability is amplified, and the backfire chance is reduced to 5%.
  • The Old Swapperoonie: Negative consequences are transferred without failure, and the effects on the target are doubled.
Duration: 1 minute. Cost: As well as having a permanent impact on all future luck. after the effect ends, Lorelei''s luck is severely diminished for the next 48 hours:
  • Critical Strike Chance: Reduced by 50%.
  • Haste: Reduced by 30%.
  • Random Resilience: Chance to negate damage drops to 10%.
  • Charmed Life: Status effects are always negative.
  • Coin Toss Conundrum: The coin will always land tails-up.
  • Rogue is the Best of the X-Men: The backfire chance increases to 50%, and the stolen ability is weakened.
Chapter Fifty-Six – Educated the expensive way. He knows his claret from his beaujolais The group had retreated down the road to the deserted, creepy, overly Englishified version of Lichfield. As these things went, there were worse locations to lick their wounds and compare level-up notes. It was still the sort of place where one might expect to find a witch selling curses alongside the scones and the slightly off-kilter vicar. However, as it appeared it was still ''instanced'' to them - despite their defeat of the Chimera - it meant they were unlikely to come under attack from any other players. In discussion, it became clear that Lorelei had received by far the most generous share of the available XP¡ªnone of the others had passed Level 10¡ªbut no one was complaining. Much. After all, there is a certain etiquette to these things, like trying not to look too disappointed when your Christmas present from your gran turns out to be a rather fetching pair of woolly socks. "All I''m saying," muttered Hild, her voice low and simmering with resentment, "is that it''s not like she killed the fucking thing herself, did she? Just because she has some sort of bullshit OP Skill that made every bad thing in the world that could happen, happen to the fucking snake doesn''t necessarily mean it should count as her kill." It seemed their brief rapprochement was over, Lorelei thought. Some relationships could be mended with a bit of time and a lot of mutual bloodshed. Others, apparently, were doomed to remain irredeemably snide. On the other hand, Steffan and Chrissy were almost entirely silent. Lorelei didn¡¯t exactly understand how it felt to have your summons melted in front of your eyes, but by their haunted expressions and careful, painful movements, it obviously wasn¡¯t akin to being licked by a thousand kittens. There was a lot of trauma to unpack there. Nevertheless, the fact they were sat next to each other, Chrissy softly stroking the young man''s arm, made her think they were probably going to find a way to work through it together. Mind you, she hoped the Necromancer had more about him than it seemed - the Chameleon Courtesan had the air of someone who would take quite a lot of . . . soothing. By hook or by crook, though, the troll and CCMD had been the group''s only casualties. At least physically, she thought, glancing at Michael, who was staring out into the distance with the baffled intensity of someone trying to remember if they''d left the oven on before the apocalypse began. The Veiled Stalker''s sister had not left his side since they¡¯d popped him out of the healing cocoon. If anyone had picked up a Therapist Skill during their level-ups, they¡¯d have their first emergency patient right there. On the other hand, Pete was showing no signs of being worse the wear despite having been pretty much reduced to a pancake by all the falling masonry. He had, however, noted that it was "Not me first time bein'' under a heavy weight, if ye kna what I''m sayin''. Ah love us a big lass on top, like," and Lorelei really had very little to say to the grinning elderly tank after that. "I do not think anyone has properly said ''thank you'' yet," Zorrobar said, sliding his large form into one of the comically small teashop chairs. The painted wood protested with a creak that suggested it had been built for much lighter, more tea-focused activities. Lorelei shrugged, "I''m not bothered. It was kind of my fault you all had to make the journey in the first place. I''m just glad it didn''t turn out worse, that''s all!" "Indeed. What was the Quest called? Follow this lunatic, and half of you will die." The fire mage boomed out his hearty laugh, rattling the teashop¡¯s delicate china. "Well, it wasn''t a lie, was it?" Lorelei grimaced, "I''m so sorry about everything that happened, Z. The System just seems quite psychotic where I am concerned." Zorrobar clicked his fingers, and flames danced over his hand, the kind of idle display that had a way of turning sugar cubes into napalm. "You worry too much. Has not following you made us all strong? We all, even if we don''t admit it, know you saved us from those Red Zone bastards. I was a squishy Level 3 two days ago with barely enough mana to light my farts. And look at me now!" Lorelei smiled. By general consent, Zorrobar had picked up the Arcane Gem from the Loot they''d gathered from the corpse of the Chimera. That Epic Trinket had added 200 Intellect to the mage with a chance that each of his cast spells would restore 5% of his maximum mana. She didn''t think he''d be running short of ''boom'' energy soon. The other bits of reward loot had quickly found appropriate homes. Pete and Hild had haggled over the Epic Cloak, Coiled Embrace, their argument veering dangerously close to a lovers'' spat, except with more threats of bodily harm and less chance of reconciliation. Both were gagging for the 300 extra Stamina and 150 additional Spirit, but considering Hild still had the chest piece Lorelei had made for her and Pete, to all intents and purposes, was wandering around in common junk, the Valkyrie had reluctantly given way. Likewise, after what he¡¯d gone through, it would have seemed churlish for anyone to refuse Michael the Venom Vial with its 50% poison resistance. Frankly, anyone who dared would likely have found themselves at the wrong end of Michelle''s knives. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Lorelei was a bit gutted they¡¯d not picked up the special drop¡ªChimera¡¯s Essence¡ªbut it didn¡¯t really seem like the time to moan they hadn¡¯t got lucky. And given how twisted Fortuna¡¯s sense of humour could be, she wasn¡¯t sure she wanted to gamble on pushing her ¡°luck¡± any further than she already had. True to its word, though, the Guide had given each surviving party member some decent gear, so even those who missed out on the Raid Boss drops didn''t feel too much like the spare bridesmaid at an arranged wedding. However, as the party settled into their awkwardly mismatched chairs, sipping tea that tasted suspiciously like regret and overcooked reality, they all were sharing the same unspoken thought: Was this really the victory they¡¯d imagined? Or was it just another step in the System''s long, winding, and deeply sadistic joke? And, more importantly than that, what was next? Kris sat down next to Zorrobar, flicking his attractively floppy hair out of his eyes. Lorelei smiled at that gesture and felt her mood lighten with his arrival. If anyone had been a real hero in the battle against the Chimera, it had been the . . . Lorelei paused in her crushing. Did she actually know what Kris'' Class was? Obviously, he had all sorts of healing Skills, but she didn''t think she''d ever heard him speak about it. "Ah, and you, my friend," Zorrobar said, dismissing his flames and crashing a meaty hand down on Kris'' shoulder, "you are no less responsible for our success in battle. We each owe you our lives a hundred times over." Kris grinned back, folding his arm to rest on the back of Lorelei''s chair. She did not absolutely hate that at all. "No need for that. We all played our part, and I think we make a pretty good team. If it hadn''t been for you burning away the poison pools, there wouldn''t have been anything I could have done to keep us alive. You did as much as any of us." Zorrobar laughed again and rose, winking at Lorelei as he did so. "Well, you are very kind and chivalrous. I''m sure our illustrious leader can think of a way to show appropriate appreciation." And then, as far as someone as large as him could, he slunk away to join the rest of the group on the far side of the tea shop. "I mean it, you know. I think we make a good team," Kris said, moving his arm to nestle around Lorelei''s shoulder. She found herself beginning to nuzzle in, waves of comfort flowing through her. But then she sat bolt upright. "What''s your Class?" she blurted out, face reddening.
***Help Message***
Look, I''m pretty pissed off at you right now, and I wasn''t going to text for a bit, but I just needed to stop by and say SMOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOTH . . .
Kris abruptly withdrew his arm and turned to face her, his own blush forming. "You know what I am. I''m a Healer." "I know that, but are you just a common-or-garden one, or do you have something else going on?" His lack of immediate answer started all of Lorelei''s hard-earned ''Prick'' antennae tingling. She put a little bit of iron in her voice and sat up a bit straighter "What''s your Class, Kris?" "Look, it''s complicated. I don''t want you to get the wrong idea and make a big deal out of it." A tidal wave of conversations of years past rose above the beach of Lorelei''s mind. Something was so crushingly familiar about the tone of voice and the too-direct eye contact. For many a year, she''d been bullshitted by a master, and Kris simply didn''t have the chops. If a cute guy with decent hair and a nice smile thought she couldn''t read the gaslighting signs, well . . . "I would like to know your Class, Kris. Now." "Fine. Look, just remember there wasn''t an instruction manual when all this happened. I didn''t even think it was really happening - did any of us? - so, I just picked something I thought would be cool. For a laugh!" "Still not hearing a Class." The atmosphere in the tea shop had changed. The others were looking over at what they had assumed would be a cute little pairing but was starting to look like the beginning of an epic scene. "I''d never been much good with girls, and when I saw the options, I just thought that this would be a cool chance to reset the dial. I mean, I never thought it would be a real thing! I never intended for it to play out like this. I really do like you!"
***Help Message***
Look, if it helps, he is actually telling the truth . . .
Surprisingly, having a Guide who had been manifestly trying to kill her for most of the last few days in Kris''s corner did very little for his cause. "Kris, I''m going to ask one last time. And then we''ll find out just how bad Chance''s Gambit has impacted on my offensive casting. Maybe you''ll get lucky. Maybe you''ll be reduced to your constituent atoms. You need to ask yourself something. Being as I''m a Level 13, the most powerful person in the room, and could pull your head clean off, you''ve got to ask yourself one question: Do I feel lucky? Do you feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?" "I''m a Charm Leech," he spluttered, eyes wide. "Yes. Of course you are," Lorelei said. And then she punched him straight in the face. Chapter Fifty-Seven - Creeky noises make my skin creep. I cant get no sleep "You brogue by dose, you bitch!" Lorelei shook out her hand, grimacing as she inspected the damage. had outdone itself this time, adding 75% more force to what was meant to be a light jab. As a bonus, her hand was now tingling with the unpleasant status effect: All the Pins and Needles. "Dinnit be such a bloody wet-wipe, man. Come on, let''s gan for a walk while we calm doon." Pete¡¯s voice dripped with the kind of cheerful hostility usually reserved for public school headmasters and certain types of crows. He ushered the bleeding Charm Leech out of the teashop, shoving him with a force suggesting he was far from calm himself. Various pieces of furniture became unfortunate casualties along the way. Michael and Zorrobar trailed after them, leaving a wake of disgruntled ladies to dissect Kris''s deception over half-drunk cups of Earl Grey. And then there was Steffan, blissfully oblivious to the tension, seated comfortably beside Chrissy, holding her hand as if they were in some pastoral romance rather than the aftermath of a tense scuffle. "Here it is. Charm Leech," Hild said, reading from her own System Guide¡ªa version, Lorelei noted with envy, that appeared to provide factual, objective information rather than a steady stream of snark and undermining negging. "This is a hybrid healer Class, whose healing abilities are powered by how attractive or charismatic others perceive them. This Class thrives on social dynamics, with its power scaling based on the admiration they receive. Charm Leeches excel in group situations where their effectiveness can vary depending on how well they manage to keep others charmed or impressed." "Fucking hell," Michelle muttered, sounding as though someone had just informed her that her favourite pub had run out of beer. "I fancied him and all!" "We all did," Hild replied, her tone icy. "I kind of imagine that was his intention." Pursing her lips into a thin line, she pressed on. "Charm Leeches make use of Adoration, a unique mana-like resource that replenishes when the Leech gains the admiration of others¡ªparty members, NPCs, or even enemies. The more people are charmed, the larger and more quickly their Adoration pool replenishes. Adoration is also passively generated through high Charisma and Spirit. The Charm Leech generates Adoration more effectively when surrounded by allies or NPCs under their charm. A high Fan Presence amplifies healing abilities, while a low Fan Presence diminishes their power. Their effectiveness can skyrocket in raids or large groups, making them invaluable in large-scale encounters. Fucking hell. He¡¯s been catfishing us." "I don¡¯t know what all the fuss is about," Steffan said, his brow furrowed in genuine confusion. "I mean, if all of you fancying him makes him a better healer, isn¡¯t that good?" "Not really, love," Chrissy said with a sigh, patting his arm as one might comfort a child who simply couldn¡¯t grasp the finer points of thermodynamics. "Not when I presume he¡¯s also got some sort of skill to make himself more attractive to us. Am I right?" she asked Hild. "Spot on. Charm Leeches have a passive ability that continually generates Adoration from those around them, even during downtime. The fucker''s basically an emotional vampire!" "But one focused on healing us rather than drinking our blood, right?" Four pairs of eyes turned on Steffan, whose dawning realisation suggested he suddenly found the idea of being one of the bros outside infinitely appealing. "How¡¯s your hand?" Michelle asked as he scurried away, noting Lorelei¡¯s absent-minded attempt to extract tiny, glittering bits of metal from her palm. "It¡¯ll be fine," Lorelei replied, her voice the epitome of forced nonchalance. "The status effect will run out soon. I¡¯d cast a heal if I weren¡¯t absolutely certain it would make the whole thing a million times worse." But of course, she wasn¡¯t fine. Not really. And it had nothing to do with the hand that was currently emulating a pincushion. The last few days had been a whirlwind of absurdity and chaos, and yet, all it had taken was a wink and a smile from a particularly charming sleazebag to nearly revert her to the ¡®good girl¡¯ she¡¯d been at Glyde and Glyde. She¡¯d selected Fortuna¡¯s Herald as her Class because she wanted to leave that Lorelei behind. What did it say about her that she¡¯d almost fallen for the same old tricks?
***Help Message***
I know our dynamic has become a tad¡­ prickly of late, but as your System Guide, would you like my thoughts on the matter?
Lorelei was on the verge of telling it precisely where to shove its thoughts, but something stilled her. It wasn¡¯t like she had any particularly brilliant ideas of her own right now. "Sure, why not? Hit me with the accumulated wisdom of a thousand galaxies."
***Help Message***
Over the last few days, I¡¯ve witnessed an awful lot of¡­ well, let¡¯s call it creative problem-solving. Given the unprecedented scale of the unfolding carnage, I¡¯ve had to focus on the worst examples of what humanity has to offer and attempt to smooth things out. Yes, yes, I think we can both agree that many of my efforts have not strictly borne the fruit we might have hoped for, but do keep in mind that it''s been an aeon since anything went quite this pear-shaped. You lot caught us with our trousers down, so to speak. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
"Is there a point to this? Because I¡¯m not really in the mood for another lecture on why ¡®humans suck.¡¯"
***Shhhh Message***
Patience, meat pie. I¡¯m getting there. What I¡¯m saying is that, in the last 48 hours, I haven¡¯t exactly been overburdened with examples of human grace and altruism.
"So?"
***Don¡¯t be Snippy Message***
So, let¡¯s put things in perspective. There are a great many worse things out in the world right now than a guy who likes to be liked and sets out to heal people. In fact, given the almost infinite range of possibilities available, the fact he chose to be a slimeball rather than an actual menace is rather endearing, don¡¯t you think? I¡¯m not saying he¡¯s won a moral victory here, but I can run the numbers for you on all the times each member of this group would have wiped without his charming self along for the ride. I simply think you shouldn¡¯t be too hasty to push him out of your little party.
"Why are you pushing this?"
***Confidential Message - For Lorelei Norton¡¯s Eyes Only***
Because I¡¯ve seen what they¡¯re planning for you, and trust me, you¡¯ll need every healer you can get.
* A little way off the M6, a Shadow Weaver and a Dwarf Axeman trudged through the tall grass, their former bravado replaced by an uneasy silence. The wind whipped across the fields, carrying the sharp tang of diesel from the abandoned cars on the motorway, a reminder that the world had once been ordinary. Now, it was anything but. Sylvie kicked at a loose clod of earth, muttering, "I wasn¡¯t scared." Her voice wavered, though, betraying the doubt gnawing at her. "It was just¡­ smart to back off. You know, reassess the situation." Rupert, adjusting the weight of his massive axe on his shoulder, snorted¡ªa sound halfway between disdain and discomfort. "Yes. Of course. Not fear, just good old-fashioned Dwarven caution. Only a fool rushes in when he¡¯s not sure of winning." "Exactly," Sylvie nodded, trying to convince herself as much as him. "We were outnumbered, outmatched. It would¡¯ve been suicide to stay and fight." Rupert grunted in agreement, but his eyes betrayed the unease gnawing at his bravado. There was something wrong, something deeply unsettling about the way the shadows twisted and curled at the edges of their vision, defying the setting sun. Then, before either of them could react, the shadows began to move with a sickening liquid slither, coalescing into a figure directly in their path. It wasn¡¯t so much that she stepped out of the shadows¡ªmore that the shadows vomited her forth, expelling her like a long-buried secret that refused to stay hidden. Moira appeared before them, a vision of unsettling beauty that teetered on the edge of the grotesque. Her long, silver hair billowed around her, defying the laws of nature, each strand moving as though alive. But it was her eyes¡ªdeep, bottomless pits of black¡ªthat froze the blood in their veins. They were not the eyes of a girl; they were the eyes of something that had watched civilisations crumble, and gods weep. "Running away, were you?" Moira¡¯s voice was a velvet caress, soft and almost sweet, but with an undercurrent that hinted at something far darker. The wind died down, and the fields fell silent, leaving only her words hanging in the air like the scent of decay. "Or perhaps¡­ a strategic withdrawal?" Rupert tightened his grip on his axe, the comforting weight of the weapon doing little to quell the rising tide of dread. Before he could respond, Sylvie stepped forward, her hand twitching instinctively toward the shadows at her side¡ªa futile gesture, like reaching for a nightlight in the heart of a nightmare. "Who are you?" Moira¡¯s smile was a razor-thin line. "Someone who understands the power of caution. Someone who sees the potential in those who know when to fight¡­ and when to live to fight another day." As she spoke, her skin seemed to ripple, as though something beneath it was trying to escape. The faintest bulges, the barest suggestion of movement under her pale, perfect flesh, but enough to make the air around them thicken with the promise of horror. Rupert spat on the ground, his voice rough and defiant, though his hands shook slightly. "So? What does that matter to us?" Moira stepped closer, her presence growing more oppressive with every inch. The shadows around her writhed as though in agony, tendrils of darkness reaching out to caress the ground where she walked, leaving a trail of desolation in her wake. "Because I can offer you power beyond your wildest dreams. Power that would twist your very soul into something far greater than the pitiful creatures you are now. You will increase Levels without ending. I can help weave your destinies into something far more... memorable. But only if you¡¯re willing to make a choice." Sylvie glanced at Rupert, fear and ambition warring within her. They had been outmatched back on the motorway, not due to a lack of skill, but because they clearly lacked the backing, the edge that someone like that woman had. She could see the same dark thoughts flickering in Rupert¡¯s eyes¡ªreluctant, yet undeniable. They needed more. "What do you want us to do?" Sylvie asked, her voice barely whispering, the words scraping out of her throat like nails on glass. Moira¡¯s smile widened, splitting her face in a grotesque parody of warmth. The air grew thick with the stench of rotting flesh, though there was no visible source. "Join me. Help me sever that bitch¡¯s threads, and I will make you unstoppable. Together, we will rewrite the fates themselves, and when I am done, even death will turn away in fear." As she spoke, her skin finally gave way, splitting like overripe fruit. From the tears in her flesh, things began to emerge¡ªwrithing, sinuous things that might have once been tentacles or worms, but now existed as something far worse, something that defied sanity itself. They twisted and coiled around her, the wet sound of them sliding against each other a sickening counterpoint to her words. Rupert¡¯s hand tightened on his axe, but his knuckles were white with fear. "Alright," he said, his voice ragged with suppressed terror. "We¡¯re in. But don¡¯t think for a second that we¡¯re your pawns. We want a fair deal." Moira inclined her head, the smile never leaving her face. "Of course. This is merely the beginning. Soon, the threads will tighten, and the true game will begin." As she spoke, the world around them seemed to warp and buckle, the air thickening to the consistency of tar. The ground beneath their feet pulsed as though it were a living thing, and the shadows deepened until all that was left was a suffocating darkness that pressed in on them from all sides. Sylvie and Rupert felt a sudden, violent tug as if reality had been torn away, leaving them plummeting into an abyss. The fields and the distant motorway were gone, replaced by the all-consuming void. In their place, only Moira remained, standing at the centre of the darkness, her eyes gleaming with the knowledge of a thousand forgotten horrors. She turned her gaze southward towards the teashop where Lorelei unknowingly awaited the next twist in her fate. As far as Moira was concerned, that run of luck had just run out. **** End of Book One **** I hope you enjoyed the first steps of Lorelei¡¯s adventure? Give me a few days to build some more backlog up and then she¡¯ll be back - with even more luck-based shenanigans - in Book 2: ¡®Fate¡¯s Despair¡¯. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Why don¡¯t you take the opportunity of this little hiatus to stick on a review or - even better - have a read of my other series, Darkhelm? Full disclosure, that¡¯s a grimdark fantasy with hardly any dick jokes, but it¡¯s 300k words in and people seem to like it :) Book 2 coming soon... ***Recap*** Afternoon all. So, Chapter One of ''Fate''s Despair'' will drop tomorrow and then will follow the usual Mon, Wed and Fri publishing schedule of ''Chance''s Gambit''. Of course, if you fancy getting ahead of the game, there''s 30k and growing already up on my Patreon. The chapters there will stay at least a month ahead of Royal Road. Before diving back in tomorrow, here''s a little recap of where we left things. Our heroine, Lorelei Norton, finds herself dumped, fired and homeless on the same day the Earth becomes the latest planet integrated into a haphazardly-maintained universe-wide System. However, due to a failure of due diligence as to our state of readiness, this integration rapidly goes off-piste, and all sorts of highly violent issues start to occur. At the same time, keen to take the opportunity to be something more than a ''good girl who does what she''s told'', Lorelei selects the Fortuna''s Herald Class. Whether this choice was brilliant, a colossal mistake or a little bit of both remains to be seen. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. Across ''Chance''s Gambit'', by hook or by crook, we follow Lorelei as she slowly comes to terms with the random nature of her luck-based Skillset. Kobolds are maimed, Wolves are skinned and, eventually, she gets embroiled in all the tasty PvP going down. Along the way, she picks up a motley crew of hangers-on, and the System gives her a quest to escort them to a safe haven. This journey is not universally successful - mainly because Lorelei''s Guide appears to delight in royally fucking with her. Nevertheless, despite . . . shenanigans (oh, and the bitter rivalry of the Goddesses of Luck and Fate), the party manages to reach its destination, defeating the Big Bad, and Lorelei gets a satisfying chance to put her Guide in its place. Book One ended with the Goddess of Fate re-marshalling her forces for another attempt to wipe our gal, and Lorelei realising that the group''s Healer - who she was holding a candle for - was actually a Charm Leech feasting on the group''s admiration. Book Two kicks off tomorrow! Chapter Fifty-Eight - Someone get me to the doctor, someone get me to a church The world around Lorelei was alive with the smell of baked goods, the kind which whispered sweet nothings about cozy tea times and the inevitable expansion of one¡¯s waistline. The village where the team had retired after defeating the Chimera continued to be as charming and creepily stereotypically English as it had been when they had first passed through. You half expected Miss Marple to pop out from behind a hedge, ready to solve a murder involving a vicar, a missing cake recipe, and a shocking revelation about the true parentage of someone¡¯s third cousin. There was, though, thought Lorelei, something about how the cups, teapots, ovens, and furniture sought to ''serve'' the seated group, which she suspected was likely to infringe any number of Disney-related copyrights. The village was one singing teapot away from an outright legal battle, and she wasn¡¯t sure her insurance ¨C was there still such a thing is this post-integration world? - would cover ¡°lawsuits from a multinational entertainment conglomerate.¡± That, more than anything, was encouraging her to want to move the group onwards. Never mind rampaging giant snakes that breathed poison, the Mouse''s lawyers didn''t mess about. However, in order to achieve that, she needed to square away her feelings about a certain man outside. And, despite what her Guide said about needing the Charm Leech for the ominous sounding ¡®what is to come¡¯, she wasn¡¯t keen. * Kris squatted on a conveniently placed butter churn, clutching a borrowed handkerchief to his nose. A nose streaming blood. A nose streaming blood because Lorelei had punched him. Butter churns, a voice in the back of his mind said, were significantly less comfortable to lean on than, say, a fluffy cushion, or literally anything that wasn''t designed to beat dairy products into submission. However, a sore bum and the dull, throbbing pain from a surprisingly solid right cross was less of a concern right now than how low his levels of Adoration had dropped. Kris drew in a shallow breath, wincing at how difficult it was to fill his lungs; the cosy pink aura he usually sensed enveloping him was guttering like a candle on the verge of calling it a day. And the worst thing was, he really should have seen this coming. But it did him little good to worry about that now. The moment the others had been made aware of his Charm Leech Class, all the tendrils of power he was syphoning off them abruptly sloughed away. It was like a running tap had been . . . well, not so much turned off as ripped from the wall and melted down for slag. The loss of all that sweet, sweet Adoration - which functioned as both his mana and was linked to the regeneration of his HP - was pretty devastating. That he didn''t even have enough spare mana to to fix a broken nose told its own sad little tale, and that story was one where the protagonist ends up in an uncomfortable chat about the merits of stitches versus bandages. The guys of the party - Pete, Michael, Steffan, and Zorrobar - stood awkwardly near him, not really sure what to say. They all had experienced of the kind of ¡°awkward silence¡± that occurs at funerals or, say, when someone mentions necrophilia at the dinner table, but this was in a category of its own. They¡¯d come outside with some sense of solidarity for a healer who had significantly healed each of them during their brief travels. But, now they were here, they were not really sure what to do. At least one of them was considering the earache they were going to receive for seeming to support Kris over Lorelei. Kris had another take on it; that these four had been a steady battery of low-key admiration and respect and he was pretty pissed off it appeared to have dried up. Of course, this emotion had not provided as much Adoration as Lorelei, Hild, or Michelle - he''d been able to tap into a very different source of power from their attraction to him - but it had been a decent background top-off for him. Now it was gone, and he was left feeling utterly bereft. The door to the coffee shop banged open, and Lorelei stalked out, spotting him and walking forward, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her expression was a pretty damn volatile mix of frustration, anger, and something else that Kris couldn¡¯t quite place. Her dyed-red hair, with the strange white stripe through it, was tangled and singed, and her face bore several fresh cuts and bruises. However, he was most concerned by her ice-blue eyes which fixed him with a stare that suggested he''d be lucky just to escape this encounter with just a broken nose. Not for the first time since the integration, Kris found himself wishing he''d picked a more straightforward Healing Class. Perhaps one that didn¡¯t involve so much potential for enraged teammates and villagers taking to streets with torches and pitchforks. But no, he had to go with his first, twattish instinct and pick the one with ¡°Leech¡± in its title. Kris opened his mouth to speak, to maybe thank Fortuna¡¯s Herald for the part she¡¯d played in keeping them all alive, but before he could form the words, Lorelei took over. ¡°So, a fucking Charm Leech, then?¡± Kris¡¯s jaw tightened, the weariness in his body suddenly replaced by a creeping dread. He felt the distrust in Lorelei¡¯s eyes, the thinly veiled contempt dropping his levels of Adoration even further. He was in trouble here. ¡°It¡¯s not like I had a choice,¡± Kris said, forcing the words out through gritted teeth. He pushed himself upright on the butter churn, ignoring how his vision swam with the sudden movement. ¡°The System offered it to me. You think I wanted things to work out like this?¡± ¡°Of course you must have fucking wanted it! We all had the same options as you did, and you didn''t see any of the rest of us choosing Creepy Motherfucker, did you? How long have you been feeding on of our emotions, Kris? I bet you¡¯ve been you properly getting off on all the ''Adoration'' coming your way?¡± ¡°That¡¯s not fair, Lorelei,¡± Zorrobar interjected, his voice tired but calm. The group¡¯s Fire Mage, a large figure made up principally of beard and good humour, had been leaning against a tree¡ªa perfectly proportioned Weeping Willow, of course¡ªobserving the exchange with a wary eye. ¡°None of us is happy about it. And it would have been much better if he¡¯d just been honest with us. But it¡¯s not like he¡¯s been slacking on the healing front, is it? He¡¯s saved all our lives more than once. He might be a wanker, but Kris is one of us.¡± ¡°Is he?¡± Lorelei shot back, her glare shifting to Zorrobar now. ¡°We¡¯ve been fighting side by side for the last few days, and now we find out he is basically a love parasite? He gets his power through convincing us to like him. Do any of you feel good about that?¡± Kris flinched but kept his mouth shut, knowing that anything he said now would likely only make things worse. Instead, he clenched his fists, feeling the strange, unsettling sensation of his Charm Leech Skills dwindling beneath his skin, like a balloon slowly deflating. And not even one of those fun balloons, but one you¡¯re not entirely sure will make it home and, even if it does, you know your kid is going to cry the minute it pops. Zorrobar sighed, running a hand through his dark, sweat-drenched hair. ¡°Lorelei, I understand your frustration. We all do. But what do you want us to do about it. We know the System does what it wants. We don¡¯t always understand it, but we must trust that there¡¯s a reason behind what has occurred. Kris would not have become a Charm Leech if it were not something the System felt we would need.¡± Lorelei thought that was a charmingly na?ve view of a System which, as far as she could tell, was basically running the planet on vibes. ¡°Fuck off, Z. The System doesn¡¯t care about us,¡± Lorelei snapped. ¡°It¡¯s a dick that''s playing around with us for its own enjoyment. I bet it''s loved us having a Charm Leech in our group, secretly powering up on how we felt about him.¡± She spat the Class title like it was something vile. ¡°How can we possibly trust someone who gains in strength the more we like him? It''s perverse.¡±
***Indignant Message***
Hang on a second there, cupcake; how is any of this my fault? I''m just the holder of the massive encyclopaedia of possible Classes which I offer without fear or favour. I can''t help it that this dude woke up on the morning of the integration and chose to become a wanker. Although, full disclosure, this particular Class seems to have been a trendy choice for a specific sub-culture on your planet. Now, what in the universe is an ''Incel''? Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.
There was a pause during which Lorelei assumed her Guide was checking out the collected works of Andrew Tate.
Fucking hell. If I''ve said it once, I''ve said it a thousand times. You guys are absolutely not ready to be integrated into our System. Fuck me.
Lorelei dismissed the notification, aware that Kris was trying out some whining. ¡°Look, guys, regardless of my Class, I¡¯m still me,¡± Kris said, his voice having a nasal quality that was part whinge and part snapped cartilage. ¡°I¡¯m still the same person you¡¯ve got to know over the last few days. As Z said, it¡¯s hardly like I¡¯ve been slacking on the healing front, is it? When you think about it, if I¡¯d picked a different Class I might not have been able to help so much!¡± Lorelei stopped pacing, her eyes narrowing as she stared at him. ¡°Seriously, that¡¯s the defence you¡¯re running with. Ends justifying the fucking means! Do you even know what it does to you? Where your ''Adoration'' comes from?¡± Kris swallowed hard, the knot of anxiety in his stomach tightening. The truth was, he didn¡¯t fully understand the extent of his new abilities. He knew he would gain power from whatever group he was in, the amount scaling against how much they respected and admired him. He had thus far concentrated on the Healing Skills he had available, sensing that this was the quickest way to gain the trust of those around him. But he was aware there were other, less palatable Skills lurking on his stat screen, waiting to introduce themselves to the others at the worst possible moment. ¡°My Class is¡­ complicated,¡± Kris began, choosing his words carefully. ¡°It¡¯s not just about taking Adoration from you and powering up. It¡¯s more like ¡­ look, if you think about it properly, I¡¯m just borrowing it. I take what I need to keep my mana levels high and then I use that mana to help you all out. To be honest, I''m basically recycling something you won''t miss to keep you alive! I return your energy to all to you when I cast spells upon you¡ª¡± ¡°And if you don¡¯t?¡± Lorelei interrupted. ¡°What happens then? How much of our love and affection do you need to ¡®borrow¡¯ before we¡¯re nothing but empty husks?¡± ¡°That¡¯s not how it works!¡± Kris snapped, his patience finally wearing thin. He could feel her contempt¡ªand the growing distrust from the others¡ªas if they were pumping out ''anti-Adoration''. Their negative feelings towards him would pull out any mana if had left if he were not careful. ¡°I don¡¯t know all the details yet, but I¡¯m manifestly not some vampire. I¡¯m a fucking Healer!¡± Lorelei¡¯s lips curled into a bitter smile. ¡°You say that now, but what happens when you get desperate? When we¡¯re in the middle of a fight, and you¡¯re low on energy? Will you ask us nicely before you start leeching away our emotions, or will you just take what you need and screw us?¡± "Tha¡¯s enough!¡± Pete¡¯s voice boomed out, shutting them both up. He stepped forward, wedging himself between Kris and Lorelei, a stern look on his face. ¡°We¡¯re not gan¡¯ ter tear each other apart ower this. We¡¯re a team, man, an¡¯ we¡¯ll sort it out together, reet?¡± Lorelei¡¯s gaze didn¡¯t waver from Kris, but she didn¡¯t say anything more. After a tense moment, she turned sharply on her heel and walked away, heading to a bench beside a picturesque babbling brook. A host of fluffy ducklings appeared as if from nowhere and waddled to sit around her feet. Zorrobar, Michael, and Steffan returned inside the coffee shop, casting reproachful looks at their healer, and perhaps considering whether they¡¯d ever be able to enjoy a cup of tea in peace again. They weren¡¯t anticipating a warm welcome from the ladies inside. Pete watched them all go, then turned back to Kris. The anger in his eyes had softened, replaced by something else¡ªsomething that looked uncomfortably like pity. ¡°Ye need ter have a word with her,¡± Pete muttered, his voice low. ¡°Explain stuff, if ye can. She¡¯s scared, Kris. We all are. Don¡¯t make us choose between two of ya¡¯.¡± Kris nodded, though he wasn¡¯t sure what he could say that would make any difference at this stage. ¡°I understand what you¡¯re saying. And I promise I¡¯ll try,¡± he said, which was a lot like saying, ¡°I¡¯ll jump into this pit full of spikes and hope for the best.¡± As Pete moved to follow the other party members inside, the familiar chime of the System¡¯s interface rang in Kris¡¯s ears, followed by a translucent screen materializing in front of him. It was all in the sort of font in which you wouldn¡¯t want to receive a job performance review.
***SYSTEM NOTICE: TEAM STATUS UPDATE***
- Lorelei Norton: Emotional stability: broken. Current trust level: 8%
- Pete Shepphard: Emotional stability: wavering. Current trust level: 46%
- Zorrobar Singh: Emotional stability: stable. Current trust level: 58%
- Steffan Barnes: Emotional stability: unstable. Current trust level: 39%
- Michael Smith: Emotional stability: stable. Current trust level: 47%
- Michelle Smith: Emotional stability: unstable. Current trust level: 47%
- Hild Achen: Emotional stability: unstable. Current trust level: 23%
- Chrissy Penderly: Emotional stability: stable. Current trust level: 53%
***WARNING: TRUST LEVELS BELOW 50% MAY RESULT IN CHARM LEECH ABILITIES DEVOLVING***
Kris clenched his jaw, willing away the frustration that threatened to bubble over. ¡®Devolving¡¯ did not sound like the sort of thing he wanted to happen. As if he didn¡¯t have enough to worry about, now the System was reminding him that he was one bad decision away from . . . what? Taking up drinking bitter and supporting United? His Guide sucked. It was a sort of anti-motivational pep talker, really. As if in response, another notification flashed across the screen, and this time, Kris felt a cold shiver run down his spine as the A.I.¡¯s words filled his vision.
***WARNING MESSAGE TO ALL PARTY MEMBERS: CHARM LEECH REQUIRED FOR IMMINENT TEAM OBJECTIVE. SUCCESS CHANCE WITHOUT CHARM LEECH: 12%. BE WARNED ***
¡°Great,¡± Kris muttered under his breath. ¡°I¡¯m sure that will make them all love me now! Fucking hell.¡± As usual, the A.I. didn¡¯t respond, leaving Kris alone with his thoughts. None of which were good. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself for what was coming next. He knew he needed to figure out his Class¡¯s abilities, and fast. If the System said he was necessary for whatever came next, then there was no avoiding it. But first, he needed to try to repair the damage already done. His eyes tracked to Lorelei¡¯s seated form, and he steeled himself for the conversation ahead. There was too much at stake to let their team fall apart now, not least, where was he going to find a group that would be so willing to ¡®adore¡¯ him on Day 3. He¡¯d worked hard at cultivating these relationships, and he was loathe to start again. Kris pushed off from the butter churn, ignoring the pain that flared from his nose and started after Fortuna¡¯s Herald. Apart from the soft quacking of the ducklings and the babbling of the river, everything was unusually quiet; the sounds of their epic battle had long faded. It was the sort of quiet that one could easily mistake for peace if it weren''t for the dark cloud of unresolved tension hanging over their heads. He sauntered up to Lorelei and hovered at the edge of her vision until he was sure she¡¯d noticed him. She didn¡¯t turn to look at him as he approached, but he could tell by the set of her shoulders that she knew he was there. ¡°Lorelei,¡± Kris began, hesitating as he searched for the right words. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I know it¡¯s¡­ difficult. But we must find a way to work through it. The team¡ª¡± ¡°The team doesn¡¯t need a parasite,¡± she interrupted. ¡°I¡¯ve been in relationships with men like you before¡ªit doesn¡¯t matter what the Class is called. It¡¯s always the same in the end.¡± Kris felt heat flush to his cheeks. The woman to talking to him like they¡¯d known each for considerably longer than a few days. Sure, there¡¯d been some idle flirting, but he thought the whole ¡®betrayed soul¡¯ act was a bit much. Biting down his inclination to tell her to go fuck herself, he went for conciliatory. ¡°Look, it¡¯s not my plan to hurt any of you, Lorelei. I swear.¡± She finally turned to face him, and the look in her eyes was one of deep, simmering anger mixed with something that might have been fear. ¡°And what happens when you don¡¯t have a choice? When the System decides that it¡¯s you or us? Will you still swear to protect us then?¡± Fuck no, he thought. If he needed to drain his teammates of all their Adoration to survive, he was pretty sure he''d do it in a heartbeat. However, before he could find a more diplomatic answer than that, Lorelei shook her head, turning away from him once more. ¡°You should have told us, Kris. From the beginning. We¡¯re supposed to trust each other, rely on each other. But how can we do that when you¡¯re keeping secrets?¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t know how to tell you,¡± Kris admitted, his voice barely more than a whisper. ¡°I didn¡¯t want to lose your trust.¡± Well, that much was true, anyway. Lorelei let out a bitter laugh. ¡°Well, you¡¯ve certainly done a fine job of that.¡± Kris stood there, feeling as though the weight of the entire System was pressing down on him. The kind of pressure that makes diamonds, or, more likely in his case, a crater where his self-esteem used to be. Chapter Fifty-Nine - (Big Mouth) Big Mouth (Drop Out) Drop Out. Liars get what you deserve Lorelei walked briskly away from Kris and back to the coffee shop, her thoughts circling like a particularly ill-tempered vulture. The Charm Leech followed a few steps behind, his own mind not exactly full of the joys of spring. The silence between them was thick with unresolved tension, and neither spoke as they approached where the rest of the team had gathered. It was the sort of silence that one might expect in the moments before someone says something they will deeply regret, or before the kettle finally boils over and scalds someone who probably had it coming. Lorelei knew which one she thought. Inside, the others were seated around a large table, a pot steaming at its centre alongside a variety of cakes and biscuits that were actively trying to get themselves eaten. Their frenzied entreaties were proving to be pretty disconcerting. No one was looking for a suicidal digestive in their life. "Everythin¡¯ aal reet?" Pete asked, his hangdog expression suggesting he was fully prepared for the answer to be "no" and was already mentally bracing himself for it. The rest of the team really didn''t seem to like it when mummy and daddy fought. Kris gave a hesitant nod. ¡°We talked,¡± he said, which was technically true. Plus, it was a sentence that got him from one side of the room to the other without too much trouble, and - right now - he would take the wins where he could. Zorrobar pushed a cup of tea towards him. ¡°Here, mate. You look like you could use this.¡± Kris took it, grateful for the gesture, even if it did feel like offering a napkin to someone whose ship had just hit an iceberg. He quested out towards the Fire Mage and pulled in the tiny bit Adoration he found there. ¡°Thanks,¡± he muttered, taking a sip of both tea and mana. The tea was predictably perfect, just like everything else in this unsettling little village, which was starting to feel less like a charming idyll and more like a quaint trap designed by someone who wanted to lure adventurers in and leave them too comfortable to notice they were about to be skewered. ¡°Yes. We talked. But now we need to discuss what¡¯s coming next,¡± Lorelei said, sitting across from Kris and avoiding the question in Chrissy''s raised eyebrows. Her voice was steady and businesslike, but it certainly held an edge. It was the tone she had cultivated for use when summoning someone to her office to discuss nefarious social media activities. ¡°I take it we all get the same message? That we''re about to be thrown some new massive new objective, and apparently, we don¡¯t stand much chance without Kris.¡± The others nodded, looking at Kris, and he could feel the weight of their collective gaze pressing down on him. ¡°I don¡¯t know what the quest is yet,¡± he said, ¡°but whatever it is, it sounds like we¡¯re going to need all the healing we can get. I promise I¡¯ll put my best foot forward.¡± As if on cue, the familiar ding of the System¡¯s interface rang in all their ears, and the ticker tape of notifications began to spool across their vision. Interestingly, after conversations with the others, Lorelei thought that she was the only one of them whose Guide had a . . . vibrant personality. The rest of them seemed to view their interactions with it as if the System were some sort of benign bureaucratic deity whose primary joy in life was handing out parking tickets.
***NEW QUEST: RECOVER THE LOST AMULET OF DRAYTON***
OBJECTIVE: So, there''s this amulet. And it''s lost. You need to find it. It¡¯s appeared in Drayton. Sorry, I usually put more effort into the mythos of these objectives, but I''m not feeling it today. Call it the Day 3 Blues, if you like.
DETAILS: Your group must acquire the Amulet of Drayton in order to participate in the End-of-Week-One Grand Tournament. Oh, what''s that? I haven''t mentioned that particular cockfest before? Well, now I am. There¡¯s this tournament where the strongest warriors, mages, and adventurers from across a newly integrated world get together to compete for glory and unimaginable rewards. It''s a lovely little ''Opening of the Integration Journey'' tradition intended to unite disparate worldwide communities in a common goal. One of my better innovations, to be honest. Of course, on this godforsaken planet of fucking homicidal maniacs, it''s clearly going to be a giant shitshow, but some of us were voted down when we raised our concerns. So there we go. It''s a strictly Level 20 and over event, so there''s simply no way your gang of losers should be strong enough to participate. However, here¡¯s this little cheat code for access and I''ve been told to dangle this amulet bollocks in front of you to see if you will bite and get in so far over your heads, you''ll greet yourself coming the other way. You see, there are a lot of very pissed-off people on the upper floors who are itching to put Fortuna''s Herald quite firmly back in her box. To be honest, the rest of these goons will just be juicy side-collateral to the main course of kicking your arse. In case you are missing my extremely subtle subtext here, I really, really, really, don''t think you accept this Quest to seek out this fucking thing. It couldn''t be anymore a trap for you if it were asking you to pull its finger.
REWARD: Entry into the Grand Tournament - but it would help if you considered this prize as basically luring you to volunteer for the Starving Olympiad (if you get what I''m saying). Yada yada yada, 3000 XP, and an Epic-tier item you choose. But, honestly, do something else. Anything else.
WIN CONDITION: Yeah, apparently you need to make sure you do this with the Charm Leech still in one piece. No idea why. This is being put together on a strictly need-to-know basis, and apparently, the fucking A.I. running the show doesn''t appear on that list. I¡¯m feeling pretty punchy about that. So, here¡¯s a sneaky little directional tip, you need to get to the Cursed Cavern of Crookshollow sharpish.
Although the message Kris and the others read had a very different tone, he felt significant concern with the proposed Quest - and his significance to it. ¡°Fuck it! What is there to talk about? It looks like we don¡¯t have much of a choice,¡± Michael said, breaking the silence that had fallen over the group. ¡°If we want to enter the Grand Tournament, we need that amulet.¡± "I mean, surely that should be a big throbbing ''if''", Steffan chimed in. "I''m not sure we''re really ''tournament'' types. We''ve nearly wiped in every battle we''ve had so far!" If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Chrissy nudged him affectionately. "But the key word, really, is ''nearly.'' Any fight you walk away from is a win. If there''s a chance for us to take part in something that will help us progress, we''ve got to take it." Her expression turned grim. ¡°But I agree it sounds like the System thinks Kris is essential to our success. Whether we like it or not, we¡¯re going to have to work together even to find the amulet, much less enter a tournament. And do we want to do that with a Charm Leech on the team?¡± Kris glanced around at his teammates, sensing only Zorrobar was generating any Adoration towards him at all right now. ¡°Look, guys, trust me when I say I want to make this right,¡± he said. ¡°I know I¡¯ve lost your trust ¨C believe me, I have a screen showing me that in fucking 3D - but I¡¯ll do everything possible to help us succeed in this quest. I won''t let any of you down.¡± Hild, who had been sitting quietly up to this point, finally spoke up. ¡°Funny how you say that now after you¡¯ve been found out. Reminds me of all those men who only apologise after they¡¯re caught sneaking out of someone else¡¯s bed. Would you have to us on your own?¡± Lorelei shot Hild a look, the kind that would have turned milk sour. ¡°Look, let''s leave that for now, Hild. I want to talk about whether we should even be trying for it . . . ¡± Hild didn¡¯t back down. She never did. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry, Lorelei. I didn¡¯t realise you were the only one allowed to be angry about our little Charm Leech. But, hey, let¡¯s not pretend you¡¯re the only one who feels betrayed. Or are you just upset that someone else managed to con us better than you do?¡± Lorelei¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡± ¡°You know exactly what I mean. You¡¯ve been leading Kris on; we''ve all seen the two of you together. I bet most of the Adoration he''s been slurping on has come straight from you! That''s why you''re so pissed at him!" The room¡¯s temperature seemed to drop several degrees as Lorelei and Hild stared each other down. The others exchanged uncomfortable glances, clearly wishing they were somewhere else¡ªpreferably somewhere far away, where the teapot wasn''t whispering soothing mediative mantras and suggesting possible bonding exercises. ¡°You don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± Lorelei hissed, her voice low and dangerous. "At least I''ve never misled anyone about my Class! From the very first I told you all you didn¡¯t want to be anywhere near me. In case you¡¯re forgetting, it was the System that gave you a Quest that promised you¡¯d all die if you didn¡¯t come with me. And now it¡¯s doing the same thing with fucking Leech." "Hadaway an'' shite!¡± Pete was up on his feet now, his broad shoulders tense and his usual calm expression gone. "We divvent hev time for this. We¡¯ve got a quest te finish, an'' we need te knuckle doon. Whatever beef ye''ve got wi'' each other, sort it oot later." Lorelei shot Hild one last look before turning back to Pete. ¡°Fine. But we need to be clear about something: I¡¯m not putting my life in Kris¡¯s hands again. If we''re even thinking about accepting this Quest - and trust me when I say we need to think very carefully whether we do - I vote Chrissy suits back up as a Healer.¡± The others, even those more well-disposed towards Kris, readily agreed with that. Which was hardly the vote of confidence someone whose abilities relied on his charm needed to hear. He winced but didn¡¯t argue. He knew better than to try and defend himself when temperatures were running high. Deep down, he knew they had every right to be furious; the best he could do was prove them wrong by his actions, not his words. And, if he was being cynical, he wasn''t going to generate any Adoration without improving their view of him in any event. So, win-win. ¡°Right, then,¡± Steffan said, clearly relieved to have at least some semblance of order restored. ¡°If we want to go after this amulet, we''ll need to prepare for a helluva journey. We''re quite some distance from Drayton, and anything called the Cursed Cavern of Crookshollow doesn''t sound like it''s going to be a walk in the park.¡± Michael, who had been quietly nursing his tea, finally spoke up. ¡°So, we''re doing this then?" Oddly, Michelle seemed to be mouthing words at the same time. Lorelei was about to share what her Guide had told her, but something stopped her. She felt the pressure of Fortuna''s hand resting on her arm. Stay schtum for now, please. Regardless of whether you choose to join the Tournament - and I must say I agree with your Guide that it seems like a trap - I''m going to need you to get hold of that amulet, my dear. For . . . reasons. Steffan, ever the practical one, had pulled out a small notebook and had begun sketching a walking route from Lichfield to their intended destination. ¡°Crookshollow is just outside of Drayton Bassett and, even before the integration, was a rather notorious spot. I cannot believe it has become any more pleasant since. We should prepare ourselves for something . . . exotic.¡± ¡°Exotic?¡± Zorrobar raised an eyebrow. Steffan looked up from his notes. ¡°Well, my Guide highlights there are sentient puddles of acids in that area, for one." Everyone tried not to look at Michael, who, more than anyone, had suffered in the fight with the Chimera. "And then, apparently, there¡¯s something called the Wraith of the Winding Way, which is said to feed on the fear of adventurers. Which sounds awful. It''s basically going to be the kind of place where we¡¯d want to keep our wits about us. And maybe bring a mop.¡± Lorelei sighed, rubbing her temples and trying to forget the sensation of Fortuna touching her mind. ¡°Wonderful. And we need to find this amulet somewhere in the middle of all that?¡± ¡°Not just somewhere,¡± Steffan corrected. ¡°The heart of the cavern. My Guide says that the Amulet of Drayton lies within the deepest chamber, guarded by the Cursed Knight. An ancient warrior bound to protect the amulet for eternity. Or until someone manages to nick it.¡± Hild grinned. ¡°Sounds like a challenge. I like it.¡± "Of course you do,¡± Lorelei muttered, but loud enough for Hild to hear. Hild just chuckled, clearly enjoying the tension she was stirring up. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry, Lorelei. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll have plenty of opportunities to play the hero. Or at least stand there tossing a coin whilst the rest of us do.¡± Lorelei¡¯s fingers tightened around her teacup, but she said nothing more, her jaw set. Kris, sensing that this was his moment to try and salvage what was left of the team¡¯s cohesion, cleared his throat. ¡°Look, I know you¡¯re all wary of me right now. And I understand why. But all of our Guides say I¡¯m necessary for this Quest, and I¡¯m not going to let you down. I¡¯m here to help, not to hurt anyone.¡± Hild rolled her eyes. ¡°Right, because the System¡¯s never led anyone astray before.¡± Lorelei glanced at Kris, her expression unreadable. ¡°Just remember, Kris. We¡¯re going into a very dangerous place. If you do anything to jeopardise this team...¡± ¡°I won¡¯t,¡± Kris said quickly. ¡°You have my word.¡± Lorelei nodded, though the mistrust in her eyes didn¡¯t waver. ¡°Alright, then. Let¡¯s get ready.¡± The group began to gather their gear, checking weapons, adjusting armour, and stuffing their packs with whatever supplies from the coffee shop they thought might be useful. The atmosphere was still tense, the earlier conflict between Lorelei and Hild lingering like the bitter aftertaste of over-steeped tea. Kris didn¡¯t know what awaited them in the Cursed Cavern, but he knew that this Quest was about more than just retrieving a lost amulet. It was about proving himself to the team, and maybe¡ªjust maybe¡ªfinding a way to regain their trust. If he didn''t, well, he had literally zero H.P. regeneration. Unless he picked up a bit of Adoration here or there, the first fight was going to kill him. As they stepped out of the coffee shop and back into the too-perfect village, Lorelei couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that the real danger wasn¡¯t the traps and monsters they were about to face. The real danger was the rift between the team members, a crack that could easily splinter into something much worse if they weren¡¯t careful. Chapter Sixty - I travel the world and the seven seas. Everybodys looking for the amulet
***Help Message***
You okay, honeybunch? You''re all quiet.
Lorelei dismissed the notification with a flick of her hand, concentrating hard on not tripping over the various roots and branches that¡ªvery unluckily¡ªkept catching her feet. Ever since she had cast to defeat the Chimera, she had been acutely aware of the impact of the subsequent luck debuff upon her. It turned out using that Skill had caused more than just a hit to her Skill effectiveness; it was like she¡¯d inadvertently signed up for a subscription to Murphy¡¯s Law. She could almost hear Guide snickering every time she stubbed her toe or snagged her boot on yet another root. And it wasn¡¯t just her abilities that had become as reliable as a car warranty; the universe itself seemed to have decided she needed a bit more slapstick in her life. "I''m just feeling a little bit of buyer''s remorse for my Skill set right now," she muttered to herself, keeping her voice low enough to avoid further notifications.
***Boo Fucking Hoo Message***
Ah, bless. Is the integration-breaking little troublemaker sad there are consequences to her actions? Wah. Wants to bend reality to her will without any comeback, does she? Wah.
Lorelei sighed, reflecting that maybe, just maybe, if she wanted a sympathetic ear, she was probably consulting the wrong customer service line. She had the distinct impression that her Guide would sooner recommend a pat on the back with a brick than offer any genuine comfort. But still, it wasn¡¯t like she hadn¡¯t known what she was getting into. The thing about gambits was that they were gambles, and if she was honest with herself, she had rolled those dice with a bit too much confidence there wouldn''t be any payback. The impact of the debuff was worrying her so much that she was almost able to ignore the doom-laden warnings of her Guide about the upcoming tournament. Almost. But the time to properly freak out about that would be if, and when, they got hold of this bloody amulet. Maybe she could just hand it off to Fortuna and go about her day?
***Yeah, Sure Message***
The sun was just beginning its slow crawl up the horizon, casting long shadows over the version of Lichfield the System had conjured. The too-quaint cottages and unnervingly perfect gardens faded into the background as they headed towards the rougher, wilder lands beyond. They¡¯d decided to avoid returning to the motorway and would instead be travelling to Drayton Bassett cross-country. Steffan had plotted a route through rolling fields and patches of dense woodland, indicating that¡ªSystem shenanigans aside¡ªthe journey should take a couple of days by foot. It promised to be the kind of walk that would leave them all with blisters, a deep-seated hatred for whoever invented rambling, and possibly the sense that perhaps horses should be given a bit more respect. The party quickly settled into what was becoming their now traditional formation, with Pete and Hild taking point as the tanks. Their job was to act as a wall between the squishier members of the group and whatever nasties the brave new world of Day 3 decided to throw their way. Zorrobar followed closely behind, his robes flaring dramatically with every gust of wind, as though he were determined to maintain his mystique even in the absence of a suitable breeze. Lorelei suspected he was using a Skill to generate an appropriately dramatic profile¡ªafter all, what was the point of being a Fire Mage if you couldn¡¯t turn a stroll through the woods into a cinematic experience? On either side of the rest of the party, Michael and Michelle popped in and out of their shadow portals with feline grace, their dark figures blending with the shadows even in bright daylight. They were, Lorelei thought, the kind of people who could make you paranoid just by standing still¡ªmind you, having an unnerving Skill set in a world where paranoia wasn¡¯t so much a disorder as a survival tactic wasn''t a bad idea. Although they both were showing her a lot more respect since she¡¯d shown she wasn¡¯t lacking in game herself, she doubted they¡¯d ever be ¡®friends¡¯. To be honest, she¡¯d take as a win not worrying one of them was going to slit her throat. Steffan, looking every bit at the apprentice necromancer, walked near the rear of the group, his eyes scanning for landmarks and comparing it to the path her had doodled on his Map. The absence of an undead Cheerleader army at his command had left him a bit testy, but holding hands with Chrissy¡ªwho was once again sporting a remarkably impractically slutty nurse¡¯s outfit¡ªseemed to have cheered him right up. Chrissy¡¯s usual bubbly nature, though, had been replaced with an unusual focus. With Kris¡¯s healing out of commission, she knew she was the only thing standing between them all and a rather speedy demise and she wanted to do a good job. Secretly, though, she¡¯d been much happier as a Necromancer. Healing was a bit like being the caretaker at the end of a particularly raucous party¡ªnecessary but rarely appreciated. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. For his part, Kris trudged along somewhere in the middle of the pack, trying to keep his head down. Stripped of any Adoration whatsoever, he felt like a knight who¡¯d shown up to a dragon fight with a wooden spoon. He was keenly aware of the glares and glances from the others and was doing his best to keep a brave face on it, despite the growing realisation that bravery without power was a bit like bread without butter¡ªdry, bland, and likely to choke you if you weren¡¯t careful. Lorelei was back playing scout with her Skill. Over the last four hours she¡¯d picked up nothing worse than a few minor abilities from underpowered Wolves and the occasional Goblin¡ªcertainly nothing the group wouldn¡¯t be able to handle. Keeping her distance from the others¡ªparticularly with the Chance¡¯s Gambit debuff active¡ªwas just going to keep everyone safer. After all, if her luck had decided to take a holiday in Hell, she wasn¡¯t about to drag her friends along for the ride.
***Help Message***
And the fact you don¡¯t want to think about the Charm Leech has nothing to do with that at all, does it, vinegar-draws? You know, you¡¯ll probably feel better for a grudge shag . . .
They travelled in near silence, the only sounds being the crunch of boots on gravel, the rustle of leaves, and the occasional grumble from Hild about the state of the local wildlife (or lack thereof). Day 3 had yet to throw anything particularly challenging their way, which was pretty damn suspicious in itself. It was as if the System was waiting, biding its time before springing some sort of horrendous monstrosity on them when they were least prepared¡ªprobably while they were distracted by something innocent, like Chrissy¡¯s habit of spilling out of her top. As the day wore on ¨C and on - the group finally reached the edge of a thick forest. The trees loomed overhead, their branches twisting together in a pretty effective ''fuck off and die'' message. The path ahead was exactly the right amount of dark and foreboding¡ªthe kind of route where you wouldn¡¯t be surprised to find a sign saying, ¡°Abandon hope all ye who enter here,¡± if only to complete the overall aesthetic. ¡°This¡¯ll be where the fun kicks off,¡± Pete muttered, glancing back at the group. ¡°Stay sharp, like." ¡°Fun,¡± Hild snorted, her axe resting on her shoulder with the casual air of someone more than ready to introduce it to anything foolish enough to cross their path. ¡°That¡¯s one word for it.¡± Zorrobar rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed by the ominous vibes the forest was giving off. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose anyone packed a torch? Or perhaps a small sun?¡± ¡°Got it covered,¡± Chrissy said, pulling out a small orb from her cleavage. With a flick of her wrist, the orb began to glow, casting a soft, warm light around them. ¡°Fancy,¡± Hild commented dryly. "Where did you get that?" "A girl needs her secrets," the Chameleon Courtesan winked back. ¡°It¡¯s one time use, though, so enjoy it while you can. As the actress said to the bishop.¡± ¡°Better than stumbling about in the dark,¡± Steffan added, nodding in approval and completely missing the innuendo. "Well done, Cissy!" Lorelei did her best not to roll her eyes at the sight of such transparent bonding. The necromancer¡¯s sudden enthusiasm for Chrissy¡¯s contributions was, she suspected, less about genuine appreciation and more about getting into her very skimpy pants. With their path now illuminated by Chrissy¡¯s orb, they pressed on into the forest. The air was cooler here, thick with the scent of damp earth and moss, as if the very ground had been marinating in foreboding for centuries. Every now and then, the distant shriek of some sort of monster echoed through the trees, reminding them that they were far from alone. Each of them had the distinct feeling that something was watching them, and it was probably very hungry. According to Steffan, they¡¯d made it about halfway through the forest when the System, in all its twisted wisdom, decided it was time to liven things up.
***Help Message***
Look, I don¡¯t know about you, peachfuzz, but there¡¯s been a distinct lack of stabby-stab action thus far. How about we liven things up a bit?
With that, the ground beneath their feet began to tremble. Leaves rustled violently, and the air was filled with a low, ominous rumble that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. ¡°Here we go,¡± Zorrobar muttered, his hands already beginning to crackle with fire. "Fucking hell, Guide," Lorelei grumbled. "You can''t spend half your time telling me that humans are terrible, homicidal psychopaths and then get pissy when we''ve not increased our body count for a few hours!"
***Actually, I Can Message ***
Chapter Sixty-One - Soft lips are open, knuckles are pale. Feels like youre dying, youre dying The trembling intensified, and suddenly, the ground ahead of them burst open. A hulking figure, at least twelve feet tall, emerged from the gaping hole with a body made of twisted roots and earth. Its eyes glowed with an eerie purple light, and its mouth was filled with jagged, stone-like teeth. The creature let out a roar that shook the trees, bits of earth and bark flying in all directions like shrapnel at an ill-advised bonfire. ¡°Bloody brilliant,¡± Steffan muttered, already accessing his own Guide. ¡°A Terrakin. Couldn¡¯t be something small, could it?¡± ¡°Spread out!¡± Hild barked, moving forward with Pete to intercept the creature. Hild¡¯s axe gleamed in the light of Chrissy¡¯s light as she raised it high, ready to take the first swing. Pete followed suit, his shield prepared to absorb whatever the Terrakin threw at them. The tanks were in position, and they weren¡¯t about to let this oversized garden gnome have its way without a proper fight. Zorrobar wasted no time, summoning a roaring flame in his hands and hurling it towards the creature. The fire struck the creature¡¯s chest, igniting the dry bark that covered its body. The Terrakin let out another bellow, this one of pain, as flames licked up its torso. With a swipe of its massive arm, it sent a shower of dirt and debris towards the group. Pete raised his shield just in time, the dirt clattering against it harmlessly. Hild, not one to be outdone, took advantage of the opening and charged forward, slashing an attack through the air. The blade struck true, carving deep into the creature¡¯s wood-covered leg. The Terrakin roared in response, but it was clear that Hild had done some severe damage. Kris, watching from the sidelines, felt utterly useless. Without access to any of his magic, he was little more than dead weight. Literally so if the monster actually managed to do him some damage. But, at the same time, this fight might actually be a great opportunity. He knew he had to do something¡ªanything¡ªto prove he could still contribute and start regenerating Adoration. But what? His eyes darted around, taking in the scene. The Terrakin was focused on Hild and Pete, its movements sluggish as it tried to shake off Zorrobar''s flames. For their part, Michael and Michelle were popping in and out of the shadows to crash into the monster from both sides in perfect synchronisation. Chrissy was focusing on healing the tanks, with Steffan offering ''helpful'' pointers. If she minded the mansplaining, she wasn¡¯t showing it. An idea sparked in Kris¡¯s mind and he knew it was now or never. He sprinted towards the creature, keeping low to the ground to avoid drawing its attention. As he neared its foot, he saw his target¡ªa cluster of roots that his Guide confirmed was holding the creature together. Without hesitation, Kris pulled a dagger from his inventory and plunged it into the roots, twisting the blade with all his strength. The Terrakin let out a deafening screech as the roots gave way, causing it to stagger, and that was enough of a distraction for Pete and Hild to move in for the kill. Hild swung her axe with all her might, the blade sinking deep into the Terrakin¡¯s chest. At the same time, Pete triggered his Skill into the creature¡¯s head, sending it crashing to the ground in a heap of smouldering bark and dirt. The forest fell silent, save for the heavy breathing of the adventurers. The monster lay still, its purple eyes fading to dull embers as its body began to disintegrate into the earth. The creature was now nothing more than a heap of twisted roots and splintered bark, a particularly aggressive compost pile.
***SYSTEM NOTICE: Lvl 8 TERRAKIN DEFEATED ¨C 950 XP AWARDED ACROSS PARTY***
As the notification flashed before his eyes, Kris felt a small surge of satisfaction. He hadn¡¯t been the show''s star¡ªmore like the supporting actor who shows up in the third act to do something vaguely useful¡ªbut he¡¯d contributed. And maybe¡ªjust maybe¡ªthat would be enough to start earning back the respect he¡¯d lost and let him generate some Adoration. At least, it might help stop the metaphorical (and occasionally literal) knives from being aimed at his back. Almost as he had that thought, Hild wiped her axe on the grass, glancing sidelong at Kris. ¡°Not bad,¡± she muttered, her tone grudging but not unkind. ¡°Thanks,¡± Kris replied, feeling a flicker of something that could have been respect, or possibly just relief, pass between them. He couldn¡¯t tell if it was genuine Adoration just yet, but at this point, he wasn¡¯t going to be picky. He moved the little trickle of energy towards his core, pleased not to be running on empty any longer. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Meanwhile, Steffan was already kneeling beside the fallen Terrakin, a gleam in his eyes suggested he was about to do something that would make the rest of them uncomfortable. "Go on," Chrissy encouraged, "you''ll feel better once you do." ¡°Right,¡± Steffan said, sounding less than enthusiastic but clearly unable to resist. He began to chant, the words of his necromantic spell echoing through the trees. The Terrakin¡¯s body shuddered, the roots and dirt that made up its form twisting and contorting as the dark magic took hold. Slowly, horribly, the creature began to rise again, its movements jerky and unnatural like a puppet with one too many strings. But it wasn¡¯t the same Terrakin that had attacked them. No, this was something else entirely¡ªa twisted, grotesque mockery of its former self. Its eyes, once glowing purple, were now empty sockets oozing a foul-smelling sap. Its body was a patchwork of broken roots and shattered bark, held together by tendrils of dark magic that seemed to pulse with a life of their own. If there was a handbook on how to build nightmares, Steffan¡¯s creation would have been the cover model. The group watched as Steffan¡¯s creation took its first, lumbering steps, its head jerking to the side as if trying to remember what a neck was supposed to do. It was the kind of thing that would make you reconsider your life choices, or at least your decision to go adventuring in cursed forests. ¡°Beautiful, isn¡¯t it?¡± Steffan said with a grin that suggested he¡¯d had one too many conversations with the void. Chrissy gave him a hug, and that snapped him out of whatever creepy space he was wandering close to. ¡°Beautiful isn¡¯t the word I¡¯d use,¡± Michael muttered, eyeing the abomination warily as if it might decide to follow Chrissy¡¯s example and start handing out hugs. ¡°Useful, though,¡± Michelle added, though she didn¡¯t look much happier about it. There was a fine line between pragmatism and queasiness, and Steffan¡¯s summons seemed determined to walk it like a tightrope artist at a particularly gruesome circus. ¡°Well,¡± Zorrobar said, clapping his hands together as if to brush away the last of the tension, ¡°that was a lovely little jaunt. Shall we get back on the road? Perhaps we can find something a bit less... reanimatable.¡± Lorelei, who had been watching the entire encounter from a safe distance, finally stepped forward. She didn¡¯t say anything, but the look she gave Kris was enough. Acknowledgment, if not approval, and certainly not enough to create any Adoration, but maybe a nod towards acceptance. It was a start, even if it was a very small one.
***Help Message***
Just so we¡¯re clear, there¡¯s absolutely no way you are getting any of that XP. I¡¯m all for party members ploughing their own trough during a fight, but standing there with your thumb up your arse is not it. You get bubkiss.
Lorelei dismissed the notification, hardly surprised. She needed to have a think about how she was going to contribute to fights with the Chance¡¯s Gambit debuff still having over a day to run. If ¨C as she suspected ¨C they were likely to reach the location of the amulet just before the debuff run out, the group would be exposed without having her powers to call upon. Frowning, she stooped to pick up some of the debris that the monster had fired their way. The Terrakin had hardly been a tricky proposition and, if she were a more suspicious person, she might think that it had been manifested purely to give Kris an opportunity to be a hero. The System certainly seemed to be pushing his presence in their group pretty hard. Day 3 was just coming to an end, the last of the sunlight filtering through the leaves, turning the forest into a place that looked almost peaceful¡ªif you ignored the fact that they were dragging along a zombie tree monster. Ent¡¯s reanimated corpse trailed behind them like some sort of grotesque pack mule. There was something deeply unsettling about having it in their ranks, like bringing along a pet that you were fairly sure would eat you if you turned your back. As they continued their journey towards the amulet, the atmosphere was still tense, but there was a sense of accomplishment. They had faced a new opponent and come out on top. It wasn¡¯t perfect¡ªfar from it¡ªbut it was a start, and in a world where the System seemed to delight in making their lives as difficult as possible, they¡¯d take what they could get. It was only Lorelei who was suspicious that this encounter was, almost exactly, what they had needed to bring them closer together. Kris fell into step beside Pete, who gave him a nod of approval. ¡°Ye did good back there, mate. Keep it up.¡± ¡°Thanks, Pete,¡± Kris replied, feeling a little of the weight on his shoulders lift. He still had a long way to go, but for the first time that day, he felt like he was moving in the right direction. If he could keep this up, maybe¡ªjust maybe¡ªhe¡¯d find his way back into the team¡¯s good graces. And find himself back to being swimming in Adoration. And, just to the group¡¯s left, hidden within the shadows, a beautiful teenage girl continued to spool out the thinnest strand of thread, watching them intently. Chapter Sixty-Two - Am I a part of the cure. Or am I part of the disease? As the woods became increasingly cloaked in an inky blackness, the group found a spot just off the path and set up camp. Thanks to a casual snap of Zorrobar''s fingers, a fire crackled to life in the middle of the clearing, sending up sparks like miniature fireworks. Each member of the group gravitated towards the edge of its warmth, wrapping themselves in the comfort of their cloaks and, in one case, around each other. Chrissy and Steffan eventually vanished a little further back, presumably engaging in the sort of extracurricular activities that Chrissy¡¯s Skill set was rather well-suited for. Whatever they were doing, it likely involved more than just exchanging pleasantries and discussing the finer points of necromancy. Lorelei had offered to stand guard for the night. She wasn¡¯t entirely sure why¡ªperhaps it was a nagging sense of responsibility, or perhaps it was because she knew sleep would elude her anyway. Her Guide had a way of keeping her mind buzzing with a mix of anxiety and existential dread and she might as well put that to good use. She sat cross-legged near the fire, idly poking at the flames with a stick, watching as they danced and flickered, casting shifting shadows around the camp. The day had been long and filled with its share of surprises, not the least of which was Kris managing to contribute something useful to the fight. Granted, the usefulness had been somewhat accidental and somewhat desperate, but it was a start. Nevertheless, the Terrakin had been a relatively straightforward opponent, which only served to heighten Lorelei¡¯s suspicions. The System was like a cat playing with a particularly slow mouse¡ªit was only a matter of time before it decided to stop toying with them and go in for the kill. She sighed, letting the crackle of the fire fill the silence in her head, a silence that was more ominous than comforting. Her thoughts drifted to her own value to the team. If she was honest with herself, she couldn¡¯t blame her Guide for withholding her share of the Terrakin XP¡ªshe¡¯d literally just stood there, watching the others fight while she kept a wary eye on her debuff. It was hard to feel like a hero when you were more concerned with avoiding adding friendly fire than actually participating in the battle. Lorelei summoned her stat sheet with a thought, her gaze flicking over the numbers and the grim reminder of the debuff that was currently wreaking havoc on her abilities. Yeah, she wouldn¡¯t risk casting anything until the timer ran down. At this point, she was more likely to turn herself into a toad than actually help anyone. She was a liability at the best of times, and with the debuff running, she was a walking disaster waiting to happen.
***Help Message***
Sigh. And you used to be such fun!
Lorelei rolled her eyes and dismissed the message with a flick of her wrist. Her Guide was like that one annoying friend who never knew when to stop poking fun, even when you were clearly in the mood for some serious brooding. Pete, who had taken it upon himself to gather firewood to feed the blaze, settled down beside her with a grunt, his armour giving a loud clank as it hit the log. The sound was oddly comforting in its familiarity¡ªPete, despite his evident power, reminded Lorelei of her own grandfather, the kind of man who would insist on wearing his Sunday best to dig in the garden. Somehow, though, she couldn¡¯t quite imagine Gramps Norton headbutting a troll. Pete noticed her looking and raised an eyebrow, a gesture that managed to be both inquisitive and faintly amused. ¡°Summat on yer mind, pet?¡± Lorelei hesitated, then shrugged, trying to shake off her malaise. ¡°Just thinking. You know, about the way things turned out. The integration seems to have had some fun with us, hasn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°Aye,¡± Pete agreed, scratching the inside of his metal boot with a stick, sighing in pleasure as he did so. ¡°It¡¯s a right mess, this whole business. Ne¡¯er thought I¡¯d be spendin¡¯ me golden years clankin¡¯ about in metal and bashin¡¯ giant tree monsters. Expected summat more like a quiet cottage, a garden, maybe a bit o¡¯ fishin¡¯ now an¡¯ then.¡± ¡°Hardly seems fair, does it? You should be enjoying your retirement, not holding the line in a shitshow you didn¡¯t ask for.¡± Pete chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that seemed to rise from the depths of his boots. ¡°Aye, well, life¡¯s not exactly famous for bein¡¯ fair, is it? Not that it matters now. What¡¯s done is done. Jus¡¯ gotta roll with it, like.¡± They lapsed into a comfortable silence for a few moments, the only sounds the crackling of the fire and the distant hoot of an owl somewhere in the trees. Lorelei had always found comfort in the quiet of the night, but tonight it felt different¡ªmore like the calm before a storm. She felt the weight of the past two days pressing down on her, a pressure that made her long for the days when her biggest concern was a missed deadline or an awkward office party. ¡°Can I ask you something, Pete?¡± Lorelei asked softly, needing to break up the quiet before it swallowed her whole.
***Help Message***
Fuck me, you¡¯re getting maudlin. Where did the go-getter dropping chandeliers on the heads of Kobold Champions go? I might need to dial up the emotional dampening a touch.
Ignoring the message, Lorelei pressed on. ¡°How did you end up out here, alone? After the integration, I mean.¡± Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Pete¡¯s face grew thoughtful, the firelight casting deep shadows on his weathered features. He did not speak for a long moment, as if considering how much of his story he was willing to share. ¡°Ah, well, that¡¯s a story, lass." The sound of giggling from the forest behind them caught his attention for a moment, but then he turned back to her. "But I¡¯ll tell ye, seein¡¯ as we¡¯re all in this together now.¡± He shifted slightly, the metal of his armour creaking in protest as he did so. Lorelei suspected it wasn¡¯t just the weight of the metal he was trying to redistribute. ¡°When it all wen'' ta shit, I were at home, sittin¡¯ in me armchair, havin¡¯ a cuppa. It were just another day, normal as ye like. Then, bang¡ªsuddenly, everything¡¯s upside doon. The wife... she were out shoppin¡¯ . . ." He paused, his expression darkening as he stared into the fire. ¡°I didn¡¯t know what were goin¡¯ on at first. All I knew were that I had to get out there to find her. But when I got there...¡± He trailed off, as if the flames held the answers to questions he didn¡¯t want to ask. Lorelei waited, unsure of what to say, wishing she¡¯d found a different way to prolong the conversation. ¡°There were nowt left,¡± Pete continued, his voice rough, as if each word were being dragged out of him. ¡°Shops were gone, street were gone, all of it. Like it¡¯d never been there at all. An¡¯ there I were, standin¡¯ in fuckin'' armour, wi¡¯ this bloody big shield on me arm, wonderin¡¯ what the hell had happened. Tried to look for her, tried to find anyone who knew what were goin¡¯ on, but it were chaos everywhere. People runnin¡¯, fightin¡¯, dyin¡¯... Monsters.¡± He shook his head, his grip tightening on the stick he was holding as if it were the only thing tethering him to the present. ¡°She were the only thing that kept me goin¡¯, ye know? We were married fifty years. Fifty years! Then, in the blink of an eye, she were gone. And there were nowt I could do about it.¡± Lorelei felt a lump form in her throat, and she had to swallow hard to push it down. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, Pete,¡± she whispered, knowing that her words were inadequate but unable to find anything better to say. Pete shrugged, though the motion seemed more an attempt to shake off the pain than a dismissal of her sympathy. ¡°Aye, well. Life¡¯s a bastard sometimes. I know she¡¯d have given me a right bollockin¡¯ for sittin¡¯ around mopin¡¯, so I jus¡¯ kept on goin¡¯. Tried to help where I could, protect who I could. But I ended up on me own, wandering through the streets, lookin¡¯ for summat¡ªdunno what¡ªuntil I ran into this lot at the Botanical Gardens. And then you turned up!¡± He chuckled again, though there was little humour in it. ¡°Funny thing is, this tank role... it¡¯s not that different from how I were before all this. Spent me whole life lookin¡¯ after other folks, makin¡¯ sure they were safe, takin¡¯ the hits so they didn¡¯t have to. Union, ya get me? Guess this System saw that an¡¯ thought I¡¯d be a good fit.¡± ¡°Sounds like you¡¯ve always been a bit of a hero, Pete.¡± ¡°Hero?¡± Pete shook his head. ¡°Nah, love. Jus¡¯ an old man tryin¡¯ to do the right thing. Not much more to it than that.¡± They sat in silence for a while, the fire crackling softly between them, the darkness of the woods pressing in around them like an uninvited guest at a party. Lorelei could feel the weight of Pete¡¯s loss settling over her. The thought of him wandering the streets of Birmingham alone, searching for someone he could never find, made her heart ache in a way she hadn¡¯t expected. ¡°You know,¡± Lorelei said quietly, her voice barely rising above the crackle of the fire, ¡°I must have lost my parents when the integration happened. I was coming home from work. But I didn''t even go looking for them. I don''t know what happened to them.¡± Pete looked at her, his eyes softening with a deep, almost paternal understanding. ¡°Lots goin¡¯ on, lass. But not knowin¡¯ leaves a hole that nowt can fill.¡± Lorelei nodded, feeling tears prick at the corners of her eyes. She blinked them away, refusing to let them fall. It was easier to push it all down, to focus on the task at hand, than to let herself dwell on what might have been. She had always prided herself on being tough, on keeping it together when things got difficult, but lately, that tough exterior felt more like brittle glass than steel. ¡°I keep telling myself they¡¯re gone. It¡¯s easier that way. But part of me still hopes...¡±
***Help Message***
Fucking hell, butternut squash. Did you forget to take your happy pills this morning? Where''s all this coming from?
Lorelei ignored the snarky message, her attention fully on Pete, who was watching her with quiet patience. ¡°Of course it does,¡± he said gently, his voice as steady as a rock. ¡°That¡¯s what keeps us goin¡¯, isn¡¯t it? That hope. Even when it¡¯s daft, even when it hurts. It¡¯s what makes us human. This fucking System can¡¯t take this from us, pet.¡± Lorelei swallowed hard, nodding again. She hadn¡¯t allowed herself to think too much about her parents since the integration. It was easier to focus on the fighting, on survival, on the next quest the System threw at her. But now, sitting here with Pete, she couldn¡¯t push it down anymore. The grief, the uncertainty, the fear¡ªit all bubbled up to the surface, threatening to overwhelm her. This kind of emotional turmoil wasn¡¯t something she could hope her luck would let her dodge. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I can keep doing this,¡± she whispered, her voice barely audible over the crackle of the fire. ¡°It¡¯s just... too much.¡± Pete reached over and placed a hand on her knee, his grip firm and reassuring. ¡°Ye can, Lorelei. Ye¡¯re stronger than ye think. An¡¯ ye¡¯re not alone, not anymore. We¡¯re all in this together, aye?¡± Lorelei looked at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes, the strength that had carried him through so much loss. She managed a small smile, though it wavered at the edges. ¡°Yeah. Together.¡± They sat there for a while longer, the silence between them no longer heavy, but rather a shared moment of understanding. Pete eventually stood, stretching with a groan as his joints creaked in protest. ¡°I¡¯ll take first watch. Ye get some rest, lass. We¡¯ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow.¡± Lorelei nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She watched as Pete moved to the edge of the clearing. He was an old man in a young man¡¯s role, a protector in a world that had taken everything from him. But he kept going, kept standing between the dangers of this new world and those who couldn¡¯t protect themselves. She lay down on her bedroll, pulling her cloak around her for warmth. As she closed her eyes, she thought of her mum and dad, of the life they¡¯d had before all of this. She remembered her dad¡¯s laugh, her mum¡¯s hugs, the way their house had always smelled of fresh bread and flowers from the garden. The memories were a comfort, but they also made the emptiness in her chest ache even more. She hadn¡¯t allowed herself to think about them in so long, and now that she had, it was like opening a wound that had never truly healed.
***System Note***
Houston. We may have a problem
Chapter 63 - Living here with the great undead this paint-by-numbers life is fucking with my head When morning came, the sun was reluctant to rise, as if it had heard about the world¡¯s new management and wasn¡¯t particularly keen. The forest, which had been eerily quiet the night before, was now alive with the sounds of . . . birds - yes, let¡¯s call them birds, Lorelei thought - chirping, leaves rustling, and the occasional distant growl that suggested not all of the local wildlife was interested in a vegan breakfast. Ent included, which was weird for something made of vegetation. The group packed up their camp in silence; at least two of their number were engaging in a shambles of shame, whilst the rest of them were doing their best to pretend they hadn¡¯t heard what they¡¯d definitely heard. Quite apart from the startling amount of noise Chrissy and Steffan had been making, Lorelei hadn¡¯t slept well. When they¡¯d eventually come, her dreams had been full of shadows and fleeting images of her parents¡¯ faces, always just out of reach. She rubbed her eyes, trying to shake off the lingering unease as she joined the others. They were preparing to continue their journey towards Drayton Bassett, where the first step of their quest for the amulet awaited them. And then, as they set off down the winding path through the woods, the Guide decided to make its presence felt.
***Morning Message***
Oi, grumpypants, what¡¯s got your knickers in a twist this morning? You look like you¡¯ve been chewing on a lemon and forgot to spit it out.
Lorelei scowled, trying to ignore the intrusion. She was not in the mood for the Guide¡¯s particular brand of cheerleading. Its comments were increasingly abrasive, like sandpaper applied to a raw wound.
***Help Message***
Aw, come on, sweetheart, don¡¯t ignore me. I¡¯m here to help, remember? I¡¯m your very own motivational pixie. Or, think of it another way. You keep blanking me, and I¡¯ll manifest something really nasty from the woods. Just because I can.
¡°What do you want?¡± she muttered under her breath, not particularly caring if anyone overheard her talking to herself. At this point, everyone in the group had their own quirks, and if talking to invisible, sarcastic entities was hers, so be it.
***Help Message***
Just a little check-in, darling. You seemed a bit... droopy last night. And, well, after an evening of checking the logs, I might know why. See, there¡¯s this tiny, teeny little thing we need to chat about.
Lorelei¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Go on, then. Spit it out.¡±
***Help Message***
All right, all right. Look, I don''t want you to get your panties in a bunch about this, but do you remember how I activated that emotional dampening filter when the integration happened? You know, the one that stopped you lot from turning into quivering piles of jelly at the sight of your neighbours being eaten by giant spiders? Well, surprise surprise, it¡¯s wearing off.
Lorelei¡¯s stomach dropped. ¡°Wearing off? What do you mean, wearing off?¡±
***Help Message***
Oh, you know, just gradually fading away, like that weird smell in the fridge you keep ignoring. You¡¯ve all been running on a kind of emotional Novocain, my sweet. But, for whatever reason, it appears that the effects are starting to fade, and all those lovely little feelings¡ªterror, grief, existential dread¡ªare creeping back in. Fun, right?
Lorelei stopped in her tracks, forcing herself to take a deep breath. She could still remember how it felt when her Guide switched off her dampening just after she had beaten some Kobolds to death. It hadn''t been a joy. "What''s causing it to run out?"
***Helpful Shrug***
No one is actually sure, to be honest. There''s speculation that, despite how badly you''ve all shat the bed over the last few days, your species is actually a little more empathetic than has hitherto been demonstrated and your basic . . . I''m going to say ''humanity'' is shining through a little. I initially thought it¡¯d be more fun for you to figure it out on your own. But then you started getting all weepy last night, and I thought, ¡®Maybe it¡¯s time for a little chat. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
She resumed walking, her pace quickening as she tried to outdistance her own thoughts. ¡°So what happens now?¡±
***Less Helpful Shrug***
Well, sunshine, you¡¯ll start feeling things a bit more intensely. You might cry at sad songs or, you know, freeze up when a giant monster is bearing down on you. You''ll probably feel really terrible when the old guy you bonded with last night is inevitably killed during this quest. That sort of thing. But don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m here to keep you company. Just think of me as your emotional support nightmare.
Lorelei gritted her teeth, trying to focus on not tripping up on the path they were following. The woods were beginning to thin out, the trees becoming sparser as they drew closer to their destination. She could see the others up ahead, moving steadily towards the outskirts of what Steffan confidently predicted was going to be Drayton Bassett. If his map doodles were to be believed, they were on the final stretch before they reached the village. The sense of foreboding she¡¯d felt earlier was now a full-blown storm cloud in her mind. And she didn''t think it was just to do with the failure of the System''s dampening. ¡°What about the others?¡± she asked quietly. ¡°Are they going through the same thing?¡±
***Help Message***
Oh, absolutely. It¡¯s not all about you, dear. Everyone¡¯s emotional buffers are fraying at the edges. You¡¯ve already seen it¡ªpeople freezing up, getting all misty-eyed over breakfast, having uninhibited sex in the woods. It¡¯s only going to get worse. And the best part? You¡¯ve got to hold it together, because if you don¡¯t, the whole group could fall apart faster than a 90s England batting line-up.
Lorelei cast a glance at the rest of the group. Pete, solid as ever, was leading the way, but she could see the lines of strain in his face and his broad shoulders hunched just a little more than usual. Zorrobar was close behind, his robes continuing to billow dramatically, yet even he looked a bit frayed around the edges, his usual bravado tempered by something more cautious. ¡°What do you expect me to do about it? I can¡¯t just wave a wand and fix everyone''s feelings of doom and despair!"
***That''s the Spirit Message***
Ah, there¡¯s that fire, sugarplum. No, you can¡¯t fix it, but you can keep an eye on it. Stay sharp, keep them focused. If someone starts to crack, you¡¯ve got to be there to hold them together. Think of yourself as emotional duct tape.
She felt a headache beginning to brew. ¡°And what if I¡¯m the one who cracks?¡±
***Help Message***
Then you''re all buggered, aren¡¯t you? But hey, no pressure. You¡¯ve got this, tiger. Besides, you¡¯re not alone. You¡¯ve got your trusty Guide, and if things get too hairy, I might even throw in a motivational quote or two. ¡®Hang in there,¡¯ or ¡®Keep calm and carry on,¡¯ that sort of thing.
¡°You really are the worst,¡±
***Help Message***
I do try, love. Now, chin up, eyes forward, tits out. You¡¯re almost there, and you¡¯ll want to be on your A-game when you arrive. This little village will be crawling with more than just locals looking for a stick of butter.
Almost as the message spun across her vision, the path opened up into rolling fields dotted with hedgerows and the occasional copse of trees. The path had widened, becoming more of a dirt road, and in the distance, Lorelei could make out a sign announcing their arrival at Drayton Bassett. Apparently, Steffan could find something without Chrissy loudly and enthusiastically giving precise directions. It probably used to be a fairly picturesque village, a place you might find on the cover of a country living magazine¡ªexcept that now it was apparently filled with adventurers looking to bash each other¡¯s heads in for the Amulet of Drayton. The road leading into the village proper was lined with people from all walks of life, all sporting different Classes and gear. Some were huddled in small groups, strategising or sharpening swords, while others eyed the competition warily, hands twitching near their weapons as if ready to draw at the slightest provocation. The tension was palpable, a buzzing undercurrent that made the hairs on the back of Lorelei¡¯s neck stand up. The last time she had seen this many people gathered together in one place, post-integration, had been the slaughter at the Botanical Gardens. ¡°Looks like we¡¯re not the only ones who got the memo,¡± Hild said dryly, coming to stand beside her. Her eyes flicked over the crowd with a practised wariness, nervous about the sheer number of potential threats around them. ¡°Aye,¡± Pete rumbled, his voice low. ¡°Best keep our wits about us. No tellin¡¯ what kind of trouble might be lurkin¡¯ round the corner.¡± Lorelei nodded, her hand unconsciously to her chest. ¡°Let¡¯s stick together. No need to attract any more attention than we already have.¡± They moved forward as a unit, the others falling behind Pete and Hild. As they entered the village, it became clear that they were walking into a powder keg. The square was filled with a press of humanity, all jostling for position, their eyes darting from one person to the next. Lorelei felt a shiver run down her spine. This wasn¡¯t just a simple quest¡ªit was a battle royale, and the stakes were higher than she¡¯d anticipated. If they wanted to get their hands on the Amulet of Drayton, they were going to have to fight for it. And with the emotional dampening starting to fade, the thought of what might happen if someone cracked under the pressure was terrifying.
***Help Message***
Welcome to your first clusterfuck, buttercup. Keep your eyes open and your head down. It¡¯s about to get real.
Chapter 64 - It just takes some time little girl, youre in the middle of the ride Drayton Bassett was nothing like Lorelei remembered. The quaint village might once have been the backdrop for the only decent theme park in this part of the West Midlands, but now it had transformed into a chaotic hub of people with newly awoken, and barely contained, powers. Everyone jostled for space, glaring at anyone who got too close; personal space was now apparently a luxury item no one could afford. The drop away of the emotional dampening was certainly not helping interpersonal relations. The streets were filled with a patchwork of tents, makeshift stalls, and more than a few suspiciously large piles of what Lorelei dearly hoped was just mud. She didn¡¯t want to think too hard about what else it might be, given the number of creatures she¡¯d seen with anatomies that defied the laws of hygiene, let alone physics. The village square was packed with people¡ªif people was the right word for some of the beings she saw¡ªeach one seemingly more intimidating than the last and everyone was at least Level 15. They all appeared to have embraced their new powers with the kind of enthusiasm usually reserved for newly divorced dads and the craft beer scene. Had it really only been three days since all this had kicked off? It felt like an eternity since Lorelei¡¯d last worried about something as mundane as the morals of fucking her boss. As they entered the central gathering space, Lorelei couldn¡¯t help but notice how everyone seemed to eye them up, their gazes flicking over her group with a mixture of curiosity that quickly curdled into disdain. It was the kind of look reserved for something you scrape off your shoe after a walk in the countryside¡ªannoying, unwelcome, and possibly infectious. ¡°Well, this is cosy,¡± Hild muttered, her eyes darting around the crowd with barely concealed suspicion. Her usual snarkiness was muted by the sheer number of people around them who looked like they could turn her into a smear on the cobblestones without breaking a sweat. A bead of sweat trickled down her temple, which she hastily wiped away, as if afraid it would give away her nervousness. Zorrobar, who was usually the picture of confidence, looked even less sure of himself as he sized up the competition. ¡°These guys are not messing about,¡± he murmured, flames flickering around his fingers, as though its presence was the only thing keeping him from running in the opposite direction. ¡°No one is even close to our Levels. We¡¯re completely out of our depth here.¡± Pete grunted in agreement, his eyes scanning the crowd. ¡°Aye, we best tread careful. There¡¯s blood in the water, and we¡¯re the ones drippin¡¯.¡± His hand tightened around the haft of his shield, the old man¡¯s knuckles whitening as if he could sense the hungry eyes on him, eyes that were likely calculating how best to peel him out of his armour and add it to their inventories. And, what was worse, there wouldn¡¯t be anything he could do about it. Lorelei was the only one of them who was even close to the same standard and, considering she couldn¡¯t touch her Skills for another day, this was hardly helpful. Nervously, she scanned the crowd, trying to gauge who might be approachable and who might just be waiting for an excuse to pick a fight. The air smelled of sweat, burnt metal, and something that might have been deep-fried despair. Everywhere she looked, there were people with gear that made her own seem laughably inadequate. Glowing weapons, shimmering armour, and the occasional floating familiar that looked far too pleased with itself. It was like walking through a Comic-Con where everyone had spent far too much on their cosplay, except here, the stakes were life and death, and the prize was your spleen still inside your body. "I like it," Chrissy said, a massive grin on her face as she took in the spectacle. "It''s nice being around so many people! It¡¯s been ages since I saw this large a group." Her voice was loud enough to draw several glances their way, and Lorelei could almost hear the mental calculations of the onlookers as they decided whether this group of Low-Level muppets was worth the effort of a killing. Fortunately, it appeared most people figured the mana expenditure was more than possible XP.
***Help Message***
Try not to let your tame stripper make too much of a show of herself here. Pretty much every swinging dick for about a four-hundred-mile radius is here. I mean, I¡¯m just spit balling here, chillisauce, but it might be best if your group doesn''t completely tank its reputation before it even starts earning one.
As they cautiously made their way deeper into the press, Lorelei overheard snippets of conversation¡ªtalk of the tournament, powerful artefacts as rewards, and dangerous quests that sounded like they¡¯d been ripped straight out of a particularly cruel dungeon master¡¯s notebook. The tournament, it seemed, was strictly invite-only for the most powerful groups, a gathering of the strongest and most cunning warriors from across the integrated world. None of these here had made the shortlist ¨C which was a matter of some irritation to them and bafflement to Lorelei. There were more powerful people out there? However, the Amulet of Drayton was rumoured to be one of the wildcards seeded across the planet that would guarantee entry to the tournament for whoever could claim it. No wonder the village was so packed; it was basically Black Friday, although, potentially with fewer fatalities. ¡°Excuse me,¡± Lorelei said, stepping up to a burly man sharpening a blade the size of a small tree. He was built like a brick wall, with a scowl that suggested said wall had been constructed with piss, vinegar and industrial-strength violence. His muscles bulged in a way that made Lorelei wonder if he wasn¡¯t part troll, or if he just had a severe allergic reaction to shirts. ¡°Do you know where we might find the Amulet of Drayton?¡± The man paused in his work, looking down at her with an expression that could melt cheese. ¡°Aye,¡± he said slowly, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the cobblestones beneath their feet. ¡°I know where it is.¡± ¡°Could you tell us?¡± The man grinned, revealing teeth that had been filed down to points. ¡°No.¡± With that, he turned his back on her, resuming his work on the blade. Lorelei blinked at the blunt dismissal. Clearly, asking nicely wasn¡¯t going to get them very far. She resisted the urge to say something snippy back, knowing full well that this man could probably snap her in half. ¡°That went well,¡± Hild commented, leaning in closer so the big man couldn¡¯t hear her. ¡°What¡¯s next? Begging?¡± There was an edge of desperation in her voice that hadn¡¯t been there before, and Lorelei couldn¡¯t blame her. It was the first time the group had been around such powerful beings since the slaughter at the Botanical Gardens, and the vibes weren¡¯t great. If they annoyed the wrong person . . . Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Before Lorelei could respond though, a woman wearing dark robes¡ªrobes that seemed to drink in the light rather than reflect it¡ªglided over to them. And she actually did glide, moving with the easy grace of a predator: her steps silent on the cobblestones as if she were floating rather than walking. She was tall and slender, with Nordic features sharp enough to cut glass. The woman wasn¡¯t quite the hottest person Lorelei had seen since the integration had happened, but if she wasn¡¯t aware that the gods were really monstrous eldritch octopuses in skin suits, she¡¯d be describing her a ¡®heavenly¡¯. Even Pete noticeably sucked in his stomach as she approached. ¡°I hear you¡¯re looking for the Amulet,¡± she said, her voice smooth as oiled silk ¡°You¡¯re not the first, you know. Or even close to the strongest.¡± Her eyes flicked over the group, lingering on each of them in turn as if weighing their worth and finding it wanting. Lorelei bristled at the implication ¨C which was absolutely true, but still! - but kept her tone polite. ¡°We¡¯ve heard it¡¯s the key to getting into the tournament.¡± The woman smiled, but it didn¡¯t reach her eyes. ¡°Indeed it is. And everyone here wants it. But few know where to look.¡± Her words hung in the air like a lure, and Lorelei could almost see the bait dangling just out of reach. She remembered the words of her Guide and wondered what was actually going on here. There were surely easier ways to wipe her and her team out than constructing a complex competition and causing all these people to chase after a fucking necklace. An item that Fortuna apparently wanted . . . Lorelei was getting a very bad feeling about this conversation. She felt like she had spent most of her adult life slapping down the creeps from Marketing. They all had the same supercilious expression on their faces when speaking, a mix of condescension and barely concealed lechery. And it was an expression she was seeing reflected here. ¡°And I suppose you do?¡± The woman¡¯s smile widened, the expression never warming even a fraction. ¡°As a matter of fact, I do. But information like that doesn¡¯t come cheap, especially when there are so many willing to pay for it.¡± She glanced around at the crowd, as if to remind them just how many potential buyers were present. And how many would, literally, kill for it. ¡°Pay?¡± Pete growled, stepping forward. ¡°We¡¯ve got naught but our gear, an¡¯ I reckon you¡¯ll have a hard time pry¡¯n it from our cold, dead hands.¡± His voice was a low rumble, and there was a glint in his eye that suggested he wouldn¡¯t mind seeing how much damage his shield could do in this confined space. What had got his goat? One moment he was preening for her, and the next he¡¯s threatening to fight her?
***Help Message***
Failing emotional dampening, honeybunch. If at all possible, do try to keep the information I give you in your head. It will really help. To be honest, I¡¯d probably not want to be anywhere this number of roided up players when it all finally gives out. Some of them have had to do some pretty questionable things to get this powerful. It¡¯s going to be quite the show when they have a long, hard look at their consciences. Don¡¯t trust this bitch for a moment, but if she can lead you out of this powderkeg, you might want to take her up on it.
The woman raised an eyebrow, unfazed by Pete¡¯s sudden aggression. ¡°I don¡¯t want your gear, old man. I want something far more valuable.¡± Her gaze flicked over them again, as if deciding which one would crack first under pressure. ¡°And what might that be?¡± Steffan asked warily, Ent looming protectively above him. ¡°Trust,¡± the woman replied simply. ¡°You follow me, and I¡¯ll lead you to the Amulet. But you¡¯ll need to place your trust in me¡ªcompletely. No questions, no hesitations.¡±
***I Mean, Come On Message***
Short of this cow giving it a mad cackle, I''m not sure what else she could be doing to give off ''villain'' vibes. There''s surely no way you''re falling for this. Right?
Lorelei exchanged glances with the others. Her Guide was right. This had trap written all over it, in neon letters the size of Zorrobar¡¯s arse. But at the same time, they were out of options. They had no idea where to start looking for the Amulet, and everyone else in the village seemed more likely to slit their throats than offer help. And if, post emotional dampening, things here were about to get spicy it might not be the worst idea in the world to get out of here as fast as possible. ¡°And what¡¯s in it for you?¡± Lorelei asked. The woman¡¯s smile still didn¡¯t falter. ¡°Let¡¯s just say I have my own reasons for wanting to see the Amulet claimed. And not by any of these powerhouses here. But those reasons are mine alone.¡± Her voice was as polished as silver, but there was something sharp underneath, something that suggested she wasn¡¯t being entirely honest.
***Constipated Genius Victorian Detective***
¡°Right,¡± Kris muttered under his breath, his usual smirk nowhere to be seen. ¡°Nothing suspicious about that.¡± His hands twitched together, painfully aware of how fragile he was without any Adoration to call upon. He also wasn¡¯t loving the whole ¡®trust me¡¯ thing, which felt like it was cutting pretty close to his own lane. The woman¡¯s gaze flicked to him, eyes narrowing into slits. ¡°You¡¯ll have to trust me, Leech. Or you can walk away now and take your chances with the others. Not everyone is as tolerant for weakness as I.¡± There was a challenge in her voice, as if she were daring them to refuse. Lorelei hesitated. This felt wrong on so many levels, but what choice did they have? They were in over their heads, surrounded by people who would probably kill them for the fun of it, let alone for an Amulet that could grant entry into the most prestigious¡ªand lethal¡ªtournament. Fortuna, she thought silently, are you absolutely sure you need this amulet? This smells all kinds of wrong. I don¡¯t ¡®need¡¯ the amulet. But I do want it. Or, perhaps more pertinently, I don¡¯t want someone else to get it. If it helps, I promise to eradicate this woman from existence if she plays you false. But first I¡¯ll see how she does wearing her skeleton on the outside for a bit. Might roll her in salt and lemon juice to really teach her the error of her ways. How does that sound? Like I might not be on Team Goodguy, Lorelei thought. But there wasn¡¯t really much of a decision to make here. They¡¯d come this far and could always bail out of the quest if it got too hairy later on. It wasn¡¯t like they were actually going to enter the tournament. One look at the powers on display in this one small village made that abundantly clear. ¡°We¡¯ll follow you,¡± she said finally, ignoring the warning bells clanging in her head. ¡°But if you lead us into a trap...¡± The woman laughed, a cold, sharp sound that sent a shiver down Lorelei¡¯s spine. ¡°Oh, I wouldn¡¯t dream of it. Come, we have much to do and little time.¡± She turned and began to walk away, her robes billowing behind her like a shadow with a mind of its own. The group hesitated for a moment, then fell into step behind her, each of them tense and ready for anything. As they left the crowded square, Lorelei couldn¡¯t help but glance back at the mass of adventurers they were leaving behind. As they turned a corner, she was sure she saw a young woman she recognised. But for the life of her, she couldn¡¯t remember where she had seen her before. Chapter 65- Turn the lights off, carry me home. Keep your head still. The mysterious woman led them through the crowded streets of Drayton Bassett, each turn feeling more like a descent into some shadowy underworld than a stroll through a little Midlands¡¯ village. The further they walked, the more the place seemed to transform, as if the buildings themselves were warping under the strain of all the power being gathered in its environs. The increasingly narrow alleys twisted and turned, their stone walls becoming slick with something that might have been water but smelled to Lorelei far too much like blood for comfort.
***Shrug Message***
This actually has nothing to do with me ¨C it looks entirely normal from my side. I think your companion has some sort of mental manipulation Skill which is making you all feel like you¡¯re characters in a gothic horror movie. Bitch is growing on me.
Well, wasn¡¯t that lovely. Quite apart from her Guide¡¯s newfound enthusiasm for whatever was taking place, there was an undercurrent of something to the air which clung to the back of her throat. Not for the first time since casting Chance¡¯s Gambit on the Chimera, she really wished her powers were back. ¡°How long left on my debuff?¡± Lorelei asked under her breath.
***Tick Tock Clarice Message***
You know what they say about a watched kettle? Well, constantly checking on a ticking debuff has the same quality. The cooldown on the Chance¡¯s Gambit debuff is a nominal 48 hours. However, between you, me and that lamppost, it¡¯ll last right until the moment I don¡¯t find it fun anymore. Keep asking me about it is likely to extend that deadline.
¡°How is that fair!¡±
***Suck it up Message***
I have a distinct memory of you soloing an elite troll and, a day later, leading your shitty underpowered team to victory against a Raid Boss that earned you ridiculous gains. Ask any of those people back in Drayton ¨C who earned their power the hard and bloody way ¨C whether me nerfing you right now is ¡®fair¡¯. Even fucking Fortuna hasn¡¯t asked me to ease up on the debuff. Call this the character-building part of your training montage.
The buildings on either side loomed even more overhead, their windows dark and empty like the eye sockets of long-dead skulls. Lorelei felt a prickling at the back of her neck, the sense that they were being watched by something that wasn¡¯t entirely human. The noise of all the people in the square behind them had faded completely. ¡°Where exactly are we going?¡± Hild asked, her voice low, as if afraid to disturb the quiet. Her hand remained on the handle of her axe, her knuckles white against the dark leather. As she spoke, somehow, the street was growing even narrower with each step, the walls closing in as though the village itself wanted to trap them. It wouldn¡¯t be long before Ent wouldn¡¯t be able to go any further. ¡°To the edge of the village,¡± the woman replied without turning around, her voice expressionless, like the surface of a frozen lake hiding treacherous depths beneath. ¡°There¡¯s a place there that few know of¡ªa place where the amulet was hidden long ago.¡± Lorelei glanced around, her unease growing. The walls were definitely streaked with dark stains, the cobblestones beneath their feet were uneven, slick with the same substance that glistened in the dim light. If this was all a mental manipulation by the woman in front of them, what was her purpose? ¡°Hidden by whom?¡± Michael and Michelle said at the same time, their voices merging into one unsettling harmony. That had been happening quite a bit of late, this increased synchrony. Lorelei couldn¡¯t shake the feeling something fundamental was changing between them, something that might not be entirely under their control. They hadn¡¯t had chance to compare stat sheets since defeating the Chimera, and she was beginning to wonder whether the Veiled Stalker siblings might have picked up something interesting in their most recent level-up. The stranger paused, just for a moment, her head tilting slightly as though considering how much to reveal. When she spoke, her voice was softer, almost reverent, as if speaking of something sacred and forbidden. ¡°By those who understood its power and the danger it represented. The amulet is not just a key to the tournament¡ªit¡¯s much more than that. But only those who are worthy will be able to claim it.¡±
***Help Message***
This is giving off serious cult vibes. I¡¯m half-expecting her to pull out a sacrificial dagger and start chanting in Latin. Keep your wits about you, sugarplum. Oh, and if it turns out you have to lift a massive hammer in order to get your hands on the amulet, make sure you make clear it is not Mjolnir. Copyright can be a bugger. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Lorelei dismissed the notification, her fingers twitching, missing the feel of her dice in her hand. ¡°And how do we prove ourselves worthy?¡± she asked, her voice steady, even as a cold sweat began to form at the nape of her neck. Her Guide wasn¡¯t wrong, the entire setup reeked of a trap. But what else where they supposed to do? Fortuna wanted this amulet, and they weren¡¯t overburdened with other quests. The woman stopped abruptly, so suddenly that Lorelei nearly walked into her. She turned to face them, her eyes glinting in the dim light, dark and unreadable like twin pools of ink. ¡°By trusting me,¡± she said softly, ¡°and by being willing to face what lies ahead, no matter the cost.¡± As if the strength of whatever Skill she was using increased, the shadows seemed to deepen, lengthening into grotesque shapes that twisted and writhed at the edge of vision, only to dissolve when looked at directly. Somewhere far off, there was a faint rustling, like dry leaves skittering across the cobblestones, or perhaps the sound of something far worse slithering through the darkness. Or even the sound of unspooling thread. Every instinct screamed at Lorelei to turn back, to run as far from this place as she could, but there was nowhere else to go. The others looked just as uneasy, their eyes darting around, their weapons at the ready, as if expecting the walls to close in and crush them at any moment. ¡°What¡¯s it going to be?¡± the woman asked, her gaze locking onto Lorelei¡¯s with an intensity that was almost painful. Looking into the woman¡¯s eyes felt like staring into the abyss, a void that threatened to swallow her whole. Lorelei swallowed hard, forcing herself to meet that gaze without flinching. ¡°We¡¯ll follow you,¡± she said finally, her voice firm despite the fear gnawing at her insides. ¡°Lead the way.¡±
***Help Message***
You¡¯ve got balls, I¡¯ll give you that. I mean, you¡¯re not smart, but I guess you can¡¯t have everything.
The woman¡¯s smile returned, but there was no warmth in it, only a cold amusement that chilled Lorelei to the bone. ¡°Very well. Let¡¯s continue.¡± She turned and resumed walking, her steps silent, her form blending into the shadows that clung to the buildings around them. The group followed, their footsteps echoing hollowly. The path began to change as they walked. The cobblestones grew rougher, more uneven, the ground slick with that same dark substance that seemed to cling to everything here. The air was colder now, every breath misting in front of them, the smell of rot and decay growing stronger, almost overwhelming. It was the stench of something long dead, something that had been festering in the dark for far too long. Then they were out from the village, the buildings thinning out, giving way to a twisted, overgrown clearing that looked like it hadn¡¯t seen sunlight in years. The trees that ringed the clearing were gnarled and twisted, their branches reaching out like skeletal hands, clawing at the sky. The ground was covered in a thick layer of dead leaves that crunched underfoot, the sound unnaturally loud in the stillness.
***Help Message***
Oh, I like this. Tell you what, our girl has some horror-aesthetic game. If I didn¡¯t know better, I¡¯d say she¡¯s done this sort of thing before. Which doesn¡¯t make a lot of sense of a newly integrated world . . .
The light of Day 3 was fading fast, the sky overhead a deep, bruised purple as they reached the edge of the clearing, and the woman stopped again. She turned to face them, her expression unreadable in the fading light, her eyes gleaming with that same unsettling intensity. It was as if she could see through them, down to the very marrow of their bones. ¡°This is where we part ways,¡± she said, her voice low and smooth, like the purr of a predator that knows it has its prey cornered. ¡°The cavern in which the amulet resides lies within these woods, but you¡¯ll need to find it on your own.¡± There was a finality to her words, a sense of something ending, or perhaps something beginning. Lorelei blinked in surprise, her unease deepening to a cold dread. ¡°You¡¯re not coming with us?¡± The woman shook her head slowly, a shadow of something¡ªpity, perhaps, or maybe just boredom¡ªcrossing her face. ¡°No. My task was to bring you here. The rest is up to you.¡± Her gaze lingered on Lorelei, as if she were sizing her up for something, something unpleasant. ¡°And how do we know you¡¯re not just leading us to our deaths?¡± Kris asked bluntly, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. The woman¡¯s smile returned, sharper than before, a flash of white teeth in the darkness. ¡°You don¡¯t, Leech. But if you want the amulet, you¡¯ll have to take that risk. Now, are you going to stand here all night, or are you going to claim your prize?¡± Lorelei exchanged a glance with the others. ¡°We¡¯ll go,¡± Lorelei said finally, her voice steady despite the cold knot of fear twisting in her stomach. ¡°Thank you for your help.¡± The woman nodded, her expression unreadable in the dim light. ¡°Good luck,¡± she said softly, her voice carrying a hint of something dark and foreboding. ¡°You¡¯ll need it more than you think. Fortuna¡¯s Herald.¡± With that, she turned and walked away, her form melting into the shadows like smoke, disappearing into the gathering darkness. Lorelei watched her go, the sense of foreboding intensifying with each step the woman took. ¡°Well,¡± Pete said gruffly, breaking the silence with a voice that sounded like gravel grinding underfoot. ¡°Looks like we¡¯ve got our work cut out for us.¡± Lorelei nodded, steeling herself for whatever lay ahead. ¡°Let¡¯s move. The sooner we find this amulet, the better.¡± With that, they turned and entered the woods, the darkness closing in around them like a shroud. Behind them, the village of Drayton Bassett shimmered. All of the gathered adventurers faded from existence, leaving only two women behind. ¡°Well done,¡± the younger of them said, fingering a spindle in her hand. The second woman, the one who had led Lorelei and her group to the edge of the woods, shrugged. ¡°I am not sure the point of this. Our sister wants the amulet. How is helping her Herald find it to our advantage.¡± Moira smiled. ¡°Let us just say, Lysiara, that the threads of Fate have quite the surprise in store for our sister¡¯s favourite.¡± Chapter 66 – If you got the bad luck, honey, we got your disease. Its a jungle! "Who the fuck calls a place Crookshollow?" Lorelei muttered, rubbing her scraped knee after, yet again, tripping over. Her poor luck in finding an appropriately solid grounding for her feet was getting to the stage where she was close to asking Pete to carry her. "Are you pissed or something?" Hild asked, making no effort to help Lorelei to her feet. "Every time I look around, you''re back on your arse!" "Look, I have a debuff running, okay?" The Valkyrie stepped backwards as if suddenly worried whatever was wrong with Lorelei was catching. The glow of a summoned Skill appeared around her. "The fuck you say?" Lorelei levered herself back to her feet. "It''s from the Skill I used to down the Chimera. It''s not got much longer to run, but it''s making me more than usually unlucky at the moment. Look - " She shared her Stat screen with Hild, enjoying the flash of irritation in the woman''s eyes when Lorelei''s higher level was smacked into her face.
Lorelei Norton: Fortuna''s Herald
Level 13 Experience 0/2500 Health 485/510 Mana 442/442
Primary Stats
Strength 17 Agility 34 (+3 Gloves of the Seer, +10% Veil of Vindication) Stamina 23 (+2 Cloak of the Wanderer) Intellect 22 (+5 Whispering Gloves of the Seer) Spirit 29 (+5% Vigilante, + 3 Earrings of the Lucky Gambler)
Secondary Stats
Critical Strike 12.5% (+2% Whispering Gloves of the Seer + 2% Earrings of the Lucky Gambler) **Reduced by 50%** Haste 10.5% (+1 Earrings of the Lucky Gambler%) **Reduced by 30% ** Mastery 6.5% (+0.5%) Versatility 4%
Skills
Lucky Strike (Passive) Sometimes, you just have to trust a certain Old One is on your side. With an improved knack for hitting the mark, Lorelei¡¯s luck seems almost... deliberate. Just don¡¯t get too cocky. Lvl 3 - Increases the chance of positive outcomes by 15% (up from 5%) and reduces the chance of negative outcomes by 10%. Lorelei¡¯s attacks have a 10% chance to ignore enemy defences.
Coin Toss Conundrum (Active)- **The coin will always land tails-up** Why leave things to chance? With an enhanced coin toss, even your enemies might start rooting for tails. Either way, it¡¯s a win-win... mostly. Lvl 3 - The devastating attack on heads now deals an additional 75% damage, and the heal on tails has a 75% chance to heal Lorelei instead of the enemy. Additionally, there is now a 10% chance for both effects to occur simultaneously. Mana Cost: 50 Cooldown: 2 minutes
Random Resilience (Active)- **Chance to negate damage drops to 10%.** You might shrug off a dragon''s breath or trip over a pebble. Life''s a lottery! But now, the odds are more in your favour. Lvl 2 - When taking damage, there¡¯s a 50% chance to negate it entirely. If not negated, the damage is reduced by 40%. The cooldown is reduced to 18 hours. Mana Cost: 100% of available pool. Cooldown: 18 hours
Charmed Life (Active): ** Status effects are always negative**Life''s full of ups and downs, but with a charmed life, the downs aren¡¯t quite so bad. Maybe you¡¯ll even get a boost from the chaos! Lvl 4 - The random status effect lasts for 30 seconds (down from 2 minutes) and has a 75% chance to grant a positive buff instead of a negative one. Healing amounts are increased by 25%. Mana Cost: 30 MP Cooldown: No cooldown
The Old Swapperoonie (Active): Wah! Why is all my luck bad? Wah! For someone with a luck-based Class, you don¡¯t half moan a lot about random outcomes... But now, you can make someone else take the fall. Lvl 2 - Once per day, you can offload all the negative consequences of your abilities onto someone else. The cooldown resets if your target dies within 5 minutes of the swap. Additionally, the transferred effects are now 25% more severe on the target. Mana Cost: 200 MP Cooldown: 24 hours
Rogue is the Best of the X-Men (Active) ** The backfire chance increases to 50%, and the stolen ability is weakened ** Sometimes, borrowing is better than owning. And when you can take someone else''s powers for a spin, why not? Just watch out for that backfire¡­ Lvl 3 - You channel your inner Rogue to temporarily steal the abilities of someone within range. The stolen ability lasts for 20 minutes and has a 20% chance to backfire. The cooldown is reduced to 45 minutes. Mana Cost: 100 MP Cooldown: 45 minutes
Inventory If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
Cloak of the Wanderer (+ 2 Stamina) Whispering Gloves of the Seer (+5 Intellect, +3, +2% Critical Strike) Veil of Vindication (+10% Agility, conceals identity) Earrings of the Lucky Gambler: +3 Spirit, Increases Critical Strike chance by 2%, and Haste by 1% Skinning Knife 2x[20 Leather Offcut] 8 [Charred Steak] 7 [Charred Steak - poisoned]. Poisoned status is hidden.
25 Gold. 87 Silver. 8 Bronze
Professions
Jack of All Trades Skinning - Lvl 23 Cooking (Life in Your Own Hands) ¨C Lvl 9 Leatherworking ¨C Lvl 10 (upgrade available) Campfire ¨C Novice Tailoring ¨C Level 4
Talents
Spoilsport: Increases the chance of a positive by 5%. Fortuna''s Favour: Allies within a 10-meter radius gain a 5% increase to their Critical Strike chance If you can Dodge a Wrench: Critical Strike and Haste are increased by an additional 5% when health drops below 50%. Additionally, whenever an attack is successfully evaded, there¡¯s a 20% chance that her next attack will be an automatic critical hit.
Titles
Kobolds¡¯ Worst Nightmare: 35% damage against Kobolds One Cold Bitch: Frost Resistance: +10% Vigilante ¨C Spirit 5% Chance¡¯s Gambit - Become the very embodiment of luck. However, the universe demands balance. The more she bends fate to her will, the more fate will bend back in the hours to come. Can invoke once per day. While in this state, all luck-based abilities are maximized
"Fuck''s sake," Hild said, clearly unimpressed. "So, you''re even more useless than usual?" "I mean, I''d politely remind you which of us was recently largely responsible for defeating a Raid Boss. But I guess your wider point holds. Right now, I''m not firing on all cylinders." Hild dismissed the shared notification and put her hands on her hips. "Well, just make sure you don''t fuck things up for the rest of us." She turned to go, then paused and looked back, "There''s nothing there about why you''re stumbling about like a smack addict."
***Help Message***
Yeah, sorry about that, flumple. That''s just me being a dick. I''m rolling on every one of your footsteps for shits and giggles. Would you like me to stop?
"If you wouldn''t mind," Lorelei said through gritted teeth. "I think I might have enough to be going on with." * The trek leading towards the cavern of Crookshollow had started innocuously enough - especially considering the rather doom-filled beginning to their journey. However, it quickly became apparent that the landscape was more than just unfriendly¡ªit was actively hostile. The giant yew trees overhead grew thicker and more twisted as they went. As Lorelei was already experiencing, the ground beneath their feet was uneven, and from the moment they¡¯d entered the woods, every few steps, she had been stumbling over a hidden root or sinking ankle-deep into a patch of mud that squelched hungrily as if it were considering swallowing her whole. ¡°This place is bloody awful,¡± Chrissy grumbled. ¡°I¡¯ve spent more than my fair share of time in festival fields, and I have to say, Glastonbury ''97 was way more pleasant.¡± ¡°I¡¯d take a Coldplay set over this any day,¡± Kris¡¯s voice was barely audible over the sound of his own boots sloshing through yet another puddle. Steffan¡ªbusy consulting his Guide and Map¡ªsuddenly raised his hand, bringing them all to a halt. ¡°We¡¯re getting close to the edge of the Cursed Cavern. So, from everything I can see, we should be on the lookout for sentient puddles of acid.¡± Michael, who had been on the receiving end of the Chimera''s , made a low moaning noise, which Michelle spookily echoed. Lorelei glanced over at the pair again. She really needed to talk to them about their latest Skill . . . ¡°Sentient puddles?¡± Kris said, glancing back the Necromancer. ¡°You mean to say that some of the puddles here have evolved and now spend their time pondering the meaning of life before they dissolve your feet?¡± Steffan shrugged. ¡°Not so much. It¡¯s more that they tend to move towards any heat source and consume it, which, in this case, would be us.¡± ¡°Lovely,¡± Zorrobar muttered. ¡°So not only do we have to worry about where we step, but we also have to worry about the water trying to eat us.¡± ¡°Just what we needed.¡± Hild moaned. ¡°Murderous puddles. What¡¯s next? A river with anger management issues?¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t joke about that,¡± Steffan said, his tone far too serious for anyone¡¯s comfort. ¡°From what my Guide is sharing, it appears this place has a habit of turning bad jokes into worse realities.¡± As they pressed on, the path grew even narrower and the canopy of trees more densely packed. The fog that lurked on the ground thickened, making it difficult to see more than a few feet ahead. Lorelei tried to shake off her growing feelings of paranoia, but it was impossible. Branches seemed to lean in closer as they walked, blocking out what little light was left, as if the forest was trying to choke them, to suffocate them in its damp, fetid embrace. Suddenly, there was a splash from behind them, followed by a curse from Hild. ¡°Fucking hell, what is that?¡± Lorelei spun around to see Hild standing in the middle of a large puddle of what could only be described as liquid hate. The water¡ªor whatever it was¡ªbubbled and hissed around her feet, sending up tiny tendrils of steam that curled in the air. ¡°Don¡¯t just stand there!¡± Hild snapped, her voice strained as she struggled to pull her feet free. ¡°It¡¯s trying to melt my boots!¡± Steffan was already accessing his Guide; his brow furrowed in concentration. ¡°That would be one of the sentient puddles I mentioned. They¡¯re drawn to body heat, so it¡¯s best to avoid standing still for too long in one spot.¡± ¡°Now he tells us,¡± Hild gave one last, desperate tug that sent her stumbling backwards, free of the puddle but minus one boot, which was now slowly dissolving in the acid. ¡°Great,¡± she said, glaring down at her ruined footwear. ¡°This really is the quest that keeps on giving." Lorelei suppressed a laugh. It wasn¡¯t that she found Hild¡¯s predicament funny¡ªwell, not entirely¡ªit was just that in the face of everything else they had to deal with, the sight of the mouthy bitch hobbling on one foot was almost making her feel warm towards karma. ¡°Maybe the puddle¡¯s passing comment on your foot hygiene?¡± Zorrobar quipped, earning a glare from Hild. ¡°Laugh it up, firebug,¡± she shot back. ¡°You¡¯re next if we come across anything that hates flashy robes.¡± ¡°We should keep moving.¡± Steffan said, keen to break in to the squabbling. ¡°The Guide says these puddles tend to travel in packs.¡± ¡°Packs?¡± Michael and Michelle asked at the same time, a note of incredulity in their voices. ¡°Puddles don¡¯t form packs.¡± ¡°These do,¡± Steffan said, his tone grim. ¡°And they¡¯re not just mindless blobs of acid¡ªthey¡¯re smart. They know how to hunt.¡± ¡°Brilliant,¡± Lorelei said. ¡°Hunted by puddles. Can this day get any worse?¡±
***Help Message***
Sorry, I can''t leave just leave that hanging there.
The ground beneath them began to tremble, sending ripples through the surrounding puddles and shaking loose bits of dirt and rock from the trees. There was a deep, guttural rumble from somewhere beneath their feet. ¡°Ah, there it is,¡± Zorrobar said, his voice laced with false cheer. ¡°Well done. That¡¯s the sound of things getting worse.¡± Chapter 67 – Fallin all over myself to lick your fear and taste your health pool The vibrations beneath them grew more intense with every passing second. ¡°This isn¡¯t good,¡± Steffan¡¯s eyes darted around trying to find the source of the tremors. ¡°No shit, Sherlock,¡± Hild snapped, still hopping on one foot in a doomed attempt to keep her balance. ¡°What the hell is causing this?¡± Before Steffan could respond, the ground beneath them gave a sudden, violent lurch. With a sickening crack, the earth split open, and the group was plunged into the darkness below. Lorelei¡¯s stomach dropped as she fell, the world spinning around her in a disorienting blur. She reached out instinctively, her fingers brushing against something rough and slick, but it slipped through her grasp as she tumbled down. The fall seemed to stretch forever, a dizzying descent into the unknown. They hit the ground hard, the impact jarring the breath from Lorelei¡¯s lungs. She lay there for a moment, dazed and disoriented, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Around her, she could make out the others groaning in pain, the sounds echoing eerily in the pitch-black darkness. ¡°Everyone ''kay?¡± Pete¡¯s voice was the first to cut through the confusion. Lorelei could hear him shifting around, trying to get to his feet. ¡°Define ¡®okay,¡¯¡± Zorrobar said. ¡°If by ''okay'' you mean ¡®still alive and mostly in one piece,¡¯ then sure, I¡¯m okay. Chrissy, any danger you can ¨C ¡± A soft, silvery glow surrounded them all, throwing the smallest of lights on the situation. "On it," their temporary healer replied. Lorelei forced herself to sit up, her spinning head improving but not wholly receding under ministration from Chrissy¡¯s Skill. They needed to remember Kris was functionally useless right now, and Chrissy, while game, was not all that familiar with the Class. As soon the heal Skill ran out, the darkness was once more so complete Lorelei couldn¡¯t see her hand in front of her face. ¡°Where are we?¡± she asked, her voice shaky as she tried to get her bearings. Steffan¡¯s voice came from somewhere to her left, trembling with fear. ¡°I think we might have fallen on to the Winding Way.¡± The Winding Way, Lorelei thought. Steffan had mentioned it before¡ª
***Help Message ***
Clears throat dramatically¡ªthe Winding Way. A labyrinth of twisting tunnels said to be alive, constantly shifting and changing to trap those who dare enter. And don''t get me started about the evil motherfucker who dwells within. This Wraith dude feeds on the fear of adventurers, drawing them deeper into the maze until there is no escape. Enjoy!
¡°Well, isn¡¯t that just fucking amazing. We¡¯ve gone from being hunted by puddles to being trapped in a bloody death maze. Remind me why we simply must get hold of this fucking amulet . . ." ¡°I¡¯d take the puddles over this,¡± Michael/Michelle said quietly, their voices barely audible over the distant creaking of shifting earth. ¡°At least with them, we knew what we were dealing with.¡± Lorelei swallowed hard. ¡°Okay, no point moping around. We need to get moving. With those puddles about, standing still isn¡¯t an option. Chrissy, do you have that orb of light thing you showed us before?¡± "Sorry!" the Chameleon Courtesan''s voice was oddly upbeat considering the situation. "I used my last one up before. I could keep casting a heal on one of you? There''s a glow that comes with that?" "No. Save your mana. I suspect we''ll need it." Kris''s voice was flat. "Z, how about you? Fancy throwing some fire on the situation?" "Not with what I can smell," the big man replied. "There''s enough methane down here to blow us to the Stone Age. I can''t risk it." Lorelei struggled to her feet, reaching out blindly until her hand brushed against something solid. It was Pete, his broad frame a reassuring presence in the darkness. ¡°We stick together,¡± he said, his tone firm. ¡°Nee one wanders off alone, an¡¯ we keep our wits about us.¡± Fumbling a little around in the dark, the group huddled together, Ent¡¯s massive form stooping low over them like a weird, rotting umbrella. As they moved forward their progress was cautious and slow as they tried to navigate the tunnel. For each of them, it was like walking through a nightmare, the darkness pressing in on all sides, the ground beneath their feet slick. Now and then, Lorelei thought she heard something¡ªa faint whispering, like the rustle of leaves in a breeze that didn¡¯t exist. The sound was so soft, so subtle, that she couldn¡¯t be sure if it was real or just her mind playing tricks on her. But every time she heard it, her heart pounded a little harder, the fear tightening its grip on her chest. What the fuck were they trying to do here? She was absolutely powerless; their primary Healer had no mana, and their big, bad Fire Mage couldn''t risk using his Skills. If anything went wrong, they were done . . . After what felt like an eternity, the tunnel began to widen, the walls pulling back. ¡°Do ye feel that?¡± Chrissy whispered, her voice barely more than a breath. Lorelei nodded, though she realised Chrissy couldn¡¯t see the gesture. ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s like the walls are vibrating.¡± If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. The whispering grew louder, more distinct now, echoing in a way that made it seem like the sound was coming from all directions at once. Lorelei strained to make out the words, but they were too faint, too distorted to understand. ¡°We¡¯re not alone,¡± Zorrobar said, his voice tense. ¡°No shit,¡± Hild said, and they all felt her raise her axe in a defensive posture. The air grew colder still, so cold that Lorelei could see her breath misting in front of her face, even in the dark. And then, as if drawn by some unseen force, a pale, flickering light appeared in the distance, barely visible. It was faint at first, like a candle struggling to stay lit in a strong wind, but it grew brighter with each passing moment, illuminating the chamber in dark light. ¡°What the hell is that?¡± Kris asked. ¡°Whatever it is,¡± Steffan replied, his voice tight with fear, ¡°it¡¯s coming this way. Ent, get ready!¡± They all were pushed aside as his giant Summons took the point position. The light drew closer, revealing a figure shrouded in a tattered cloak that billowed around it. The figure¡¯s face was hidden in the dark, but its eyes shone luminous under the dark light, twin points of blue fire that pierced through the darkness. ¡°The Wraith,¡± Steffan whispered, his voice barely audible.
Wraith of the Winding Way You thought a haunted house was scary? Try getting lost in a shifting maze with this guy. The Wraith of the Winding Way doesn¡¯t need physical strength when it can turn your deepest fears into reality. Smarter than your average spectre and twice as malevolent, this ethereal terror feeds off your dread and uses it against you. If you¡¯re lucky, you¡¯ll just lose your way. If not, you might lose your sanity¡ªor worse.
Level 18 Spectral Entity Health 2500 Mana 1000 Armor 0 None (Immune to physical damage unless enchanted or magical)
Primary Stats
Strength 50 Agility 120 Stamina 180 Intellect 220 Spirit 250
Secondary Stats
Spell Power 78 Attack Power 130 Critical Strike 15% Attack Speed 1.5 seconds
Primary Skills
Fear Incarnate (Passive): The Wraith emanates a powerful aura of fear. All enemies within a 30-meter radius have their Courage stat reduced by 50% and are subject to random Fear effects. Courage checks are required to act normally.
Whispers of the Damned (Active): The Wraith whispers to its enemies, planting seeds of doubt and fear. All enemies within range must make a Wisdom save. Failure results in a temporary paralysis, a loss of morale, or forced movement in a random direction for 10 seconds. Cooldown: 20 seconds.
Life Drain (Active): The Wraith targets an enemy, draining life and mana from them at a rate of 100 HP and 50 MP per second for 10 seconds. The Wraith heals for the damage dealt. Cooldown: 60 seconds.
Wraithwalk (Active): The Wraith becomes incorporeal, allowing it to pass through walls and obstacles for 15 seconds. During this time, it is immune to all damage but cannot attack. Cooldown: 120 seconds.
Ethereal Blast (Active): The Wraith channels energy and releases a blast of ethereal force, dealing 300 Shadow damage to all enemies in a 15-meter radius and applying a debuff that reduces all healing effects by 50% for 30 seconds. Cooldown: 45 seconds
Special Abilities
Labyrinth Master (Passive): The Wraith is attuned to the Winding Way, giving it the ability to manipulate the environment within the maze. It can shift walls, close exits, and create illusions at will.
Soul Harvest (Ultimate): The Wraith attempts to harvest the soul of a weakened enemy. The target must make a saving throw against their Courage stat. On a failure, the target is reduced to 0 HP and their soul is trapped within the Wraith, which increases its health by 500. This ability can only be used once per encounter and is only triggered when the Wraith¡¯s health drops below 500. No cooldown.
Lorelei could feel herself about to lose her shit as the Wraith drew closer, the whispering growing more insistent. Its stat sheet wasn¡¯t that intimidating ¨C as a group, they should be able to take it with few problems ¨C but somehow, she couldn¡¯t quite get her thoughts in order. The Wraith stopped a few feet away from them, its eyes continuing to blaze with that blue, unnatural light. The whispering reached a fever pitch, the words finally becoming clear, though Lorelei wished they hadn¡¯t. ¡°Your fear¡­ your delicious fear¡­ it will sustain me¡­¡± Her heart pounded in her chest, the terror overwhelm her ability to respond. Lorelei could feel the paralysis creeping in at the edges of her mind, gnawing at her, weakening her defences. It was exactly how she had felt, moments into the integration, when being dive-bombed by a dragon. The Wraith¡¯s presence was a similar intrusion into her reality, seeping into her thoughts, twisting them, amplifying her fears until they were all she could think about. ¡°We have to run!¡± she gasped, her voice barely more than a whisper. But the Wraith was faster. It raised a skeletal hand, and the air around them solidified, trapping them in place. They all struggled against the invisible force, but it was no use. They were caught, ensnared in the Wraith¡¯s grasp. The whispering grew louder, the words echoing through all their minds, drowning out all other thoughts. Lorelei could feel the fear tightening its grip on her heart, squeezing the air from her lungs, making it impossible to think, to move, to fight. Just when she thought she couldn¡¯t take it anymore, that the fear would consume her entirely, she heard a voice¡ªfaint at first, but growing stronger, more insistent.
***Help Message***
Look, you¡¯re better than this. This thing is, at best, a one trick pony. You¡¯re scared, fair enough. But you¡¯ve been scared before, petal. So, I¡¯m just going to channel my inner Pete here for a moment. Bear with me whilst I get into character. Oh no ye don¡¯t, pet! I¡¯m not about te let some second-rate spook steal me thunder. Now, pull yersel¡¯ together an¡¯ show this bag o¡¯ bones what happens when it messes with a Herald o'' Fortuna!
Chapter 68 – What the Guide had for you was true. Things go wrong, they always do The Wraith slipped forward like a shadow come to life, its shape flickering and shifting in the dim light of the healing aura Chrissy was frantically casting. The insidious whispering grew louder, filling the tunnel with a hiss of terror. Each member of the group sagged as the heavy weight of the Wraith¡¯s passive Skills bore down on them, threatening to crush their will before the fight had even begun. Lorelei¡¯s mind was racing as she sought to formulate a plan. In many ways, they were in worse shape for this fight than they had ever been against the Chimera. This Wraith was immune to physical attacks, her own Skills were off the table, and Zorrobar¡¯s fire spells were out of the question. They were trapped in a tunnel that seemed to be alive, surrounded by darkness, and within moments of being wiped by something akin to a spectral mole.
***Quite The Pickle Message***
However, and I mean this in all love, if you get wiped by this fucking thing I am going to be less than impressed. I¡¯ve put quite a bit of time into you over the last couple of days, so it¡¯s going to be a crushing disappointment if something sub-level 20 ends you. Maybe, I don¡¯t know, try and fucking do something.
Light, she thought, the idea suddenly popping into her head. It¡¯s so dark here because it fears the light. ¡°Chrissy,¡± she said, her voice barely audible over the growing hubbub of whispers. ¡°Your healing light . . . you need to amplify it. It¡¯ll hurt it!¡± Chrissy, bless her soul, understood immediately, raising her hands towards the monster. The soft glow of her Skill intensified as she poured all her mana into the spell. Her palms flared brighter, casting eerie, elongated shadows on the walls around them from which the Wraith immediately shied away. However, as Lorelei had feared before they began this quest, it seemed that Chrissy''s inexperience as a Healer would be their undoing. Even as she was casting, the intensity of the light began to dial down. She simply did not have enough control over her mana to get the job done. Not enough, Lorelei thought, her mind racing. We need more. She looked towards Kris, who was clutching the tunnel wall, staring wide-eyed at the monster. "What have you got? Any Adoration sloshing about in there?" Kris hesitated, "Hardly any. And most of it is being taken up on health regeneration." Hild leant forward to swipe him on the back of his head. "Leech, if you don''t start using it to get some fucking light in here, I can promise you the last thing you''re going to see is me ripping your cock off. See if you have enough Adoration to heal through that! You fucking understand me!" The light from Kris¡¯s hastily cast spell caught the reflective surface of the Valkyrie''s axe, amplifying it slightly, but even that wasn¡¯t enough. Desperation gnawed at Lorelei as she sagged down on to her knees. There had to be a way out of this. Fortuna wouldn¡¯t have thrown into something there was no way through. I mean, that is absolutely not true, I am afraid. However, I can confirm that, on this occasion, I would expect you to be able to win your way clear, my dear. ¡°Is there anything that you can do?¡± Not on this occasion. It¡¯s like an Old One¡¯s convention on this planet right now ¨C I need to keep my head down. At least until you get me that amulet. Good luck! Lorelei cursed, but thought Fortuna had a point. The Wraith wasn''t even that strong in the grand scheme of things. A Womble with a fucking torch could probably kill it. If only she didn''t have this fucking debuff running, she''d have all sorts of options available. The debuff . . . ¡°Guide, how about I try to trigger the ability has stolen,¡± she whispered, feeling the shape of the Skill she had ''borrowed'' off one of the acidic puddles outside. "However, instead of it working properly, all sorts of luck-based oddness takes place, and I somehow end up stealing off Chrissy?"
***Intrigued Message***
Colour me interested, cupcake.
"So, if that event took place, I imagine you''d want to max out all sorts of negative impacts on me to balance something unlikely like that happening, wouldn''t you?
***Still Just About Interested Message***
And what''s in it for me, sugarplum?
"You¡¯ve said it yourself. It¡¯d be a waste for this to bit it, wouldn¡¯t it? I mean, you¡¯re clearly having all sorts of fun fucking with me. Do you really want it to finish here? I''m sure you can come up with something suitably shitty for me to deal with if I just about scraped through here. I mean, if you wanted me wiped, you wouldn''t have warned me about this quest, would you? Just have me ''luckily'' steal the healing Skill and then go to town on me with the worst debuff you can think of." Her Guide didn¡¯t reply. She was just on the edge of losing consciousness, so without waiting to see whether the Guide agreed, she triggered . The energy from the Skill flowed through her, a wild torrent that threatened to overwhelm her senses. Her body screamed in protest as the debuff latched onto her, a burning agony that made her knees buckle. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. Focus, she told herself, gritting her teeth against the pain. You can do this.¡± Then the pain was gone as flared brightly around them all. The Wraith recoiled, its form flickering as Lorelei''s borrowed Skill burned through the monster¡¯s essence, anchoring it into the real world. Lorelei felt a momentary surge of triumph, but it was quickly quashed by the realization that the Wraith was far from defeated. ¡°Still not enough,¡± Steffan hissed, his voice sharp with fear. ¡°It¡¯s still too strong just to dispel with light!¡± Lorelei knew he was right. The glow from the healing Skill was hurting the Wraith, pinning it so it couldn''t advance any further, but it wasn¡¯t going to be enough to destroy it. It was just a healing Skill after all. They needed to weaken it further. ¡°Kris!¡± she shouted. ¡°You need to leech it!¡± Kris stared at her, eyes wide with fear. ¡°What? I can¡¯t¡ªthere¡¯s no Adoration there for me to siphon!¡± ¡°Not Adoration,¡± she spat, the effort of speaking under the pressure of the Wraith¡¯s attacks almost too much for her. ¡°Fear. It¡¯s feeding on our fear¡ªso just change it up and pull on that instead of love. It can''t be that hard, can it! You need to drain the fucker!¡± Kris¡¯s face went pale, "I''ve not tried to do that before. Doesn¡¯t that feels like it would be crossing a line?" "As opposed to what!¡± Hild yelled back. "Fucking dying? Pull this off, and we can talk about us ladies trying to find you less disgusting. How about that?" Kris closed his eyes, reaching out with one of the Skills he had not dared use yet. locked on to the tendrils of fear that connected them all to the Wraith. For a moment, nothing happened, and Lorelei¡¯s heart sank as the Wraith¡¯s pressure ground her down. But then she felt it ¨C they all did - a slight ease in the unpleasant whispering, a subtle weakening of the Wraith¡¯s control of them as Kris began to draw away the fear that had fuelled the creature. The Wraith hissed, its feeding frenzy halting as its connection to their terror was severed. Then its form wavered, its shape flickering like a candle in a strong wind. In response, it lunged forward, its skeletal fingers elongating into razor-sharp claws. It swiped at Pete, scraping against his shield with a sound like nails on a the biggest chalkboard in the world. The force of the blow sent Pete stumbling back, his shield arm trembling from the impact. ¡°Keep going, Kris!¡± Lorelei urged. She could tell that the around her was dimming, her mana nearly depleted. And that was without considering whatever debuff the Guide had thrown her way tightening its grip on her, squeezing the life out of her with every passing second. Her notifications were going crazy, but she simply didn''t have the time to glance at them. ¡°Hang on.¡± Zorrobar barked. ¡°It¡¯s solid now. Physical attacks will affect it!¡± Pete was the first to move, his shield raised as he charged the Wraith. He slammed into it with all his might, his sending a shockwave through the cavern. The Wraith screeched, its form flickering wildly as Lorelei''s and Kris¡¯s continued to weaken its phasing abilities. Then Hild was right behind it, her one-booted foot kicking up dirt as she brought her axe down in a mighty swing. The blade passed through the Wraith¡¯s form, Lorelei¡¯s holy light clinging to the metal and burning straight through it. The Wraith¡¯s screeching grew louder, more desperate, as it struggled to maintain its form. Steffan stepped forward, Ent moving up to protect him, his hands glowing with a sickly light as he activated his own recently acquired Skill, . The Wraith¡¯s form convulsed under the casting, what passed for its life force being ripped away, dragged towards Steffan¡¯s outstretched hands. The Necromancer¡¯s face was twisted in concentration - he hadn''t tried to use this Skill before - and his eyes glowed as he pulled the Wraith¡¯s essence into himself. Lorelei felt the breath leave her lungs as the monster shrieked and threw out all sorts of nasty abilities, the impact sending a jolt of pain through her already battered body even as she sought to heal both herself and the rest of the group. Chrissy started to pitch in with some minor healing Skills of her own. Then the Wraith¡¯s form began to coalesce, the darkness swirling around it like a vortex. It was reforming, its skeletal face contorted in rage as it prepared to strike again. ¡°Not today, ye fucker!¡± Pete roared, pushing himself to his feet. He raised his shield high, charging forward with a taunt that echoed off the walls. The Wraith spun to face him, claws once again raking across his shield, gouging giant rents into it, but Pete held firm, pushing the creature back and, shouting out incoherent taunts, keeping all of its attention on him. ¡°Now!¡± he shouted, ¡°Hit it with everything ye¡¯ve got!¡± Michael and Michelle, who had been circling the Wraith in eerie synchronicity, struck in unison. Their joint Skill allowed them to move faster than the eye could follow, their daggers slicing through the Wraith with precision. Each cut - delivered to impossibly identical spots - left behind a trail of dark energy that sizzled and burned, weakening the Wraith further. As if in response, Ent let out a guttural roar as it lumbered forward. It grabbed hold of the Wraith, its massive hands crushing the creature¡¯s form with a sickening crunch. By this point, Lorelei was barely able to stand, but still managed to channel the last of her mana into a final blast of . The silvery glow around her flared one last time, blinding in its intensity as she directed it all towards keeping Pete going. The Wraith convulsed away from the glow surrounding the old tank, screaming as the reflected light burned through it even further. Hild, seeing the Wraith on the brink of destruction, embedded her ace in the head of the monster, her face twisted in pain as she ripped it free, and the last remnants of the Wraith¡¯s essence splashed over her face. She collapsed, silently, Chrissy running over to her, concerned and casting spell after spell on to the fallen Valkyrie. However, that had been the key moment. The Wraith let out one final, ear-piercing shriek before its form shattered into a thousand pieces of dark energy, dissipating like smoke. After the tumultuous noise, the cavern was suddenly, eerily silent. Lorelei collapsed back to her knees, the weight of the mysterious debuff crashing down on her like a tidal wave. Her vision blurred, her body trembling with exhaustion and pain. She could barely hear the others as they regrouped, her mind utterly fogged. She couldn''t even access her notifications to see what had been done to her. ¡°Lorelei!¡± Pete¡¯s voice cut through the haze, a lifeline in the darkness. He was at her side, his strong hands pulling her back to her feet. ¡°We did it, pet. We did it. It¡¯s okay.¡± She nodded weakly, barely able to keep her eyes open. Her body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending screaming in pain. She knew she wouldn¡¯t be able to fight again¡ªnot for a long while. ¡°Let¡¯s keep movin¡¯,¡± Pete said, his voice firm but gentle. ¡°We need te get outta here, afore somethin¡¯ else finds us.¡± The group nodded in agreement, their movements sluggish and pained as they began to make their way out of the cavern. Chapter 69 – She ain’t heavy, she’s our leader. The Winding Way felt less like a tunnel and more like the world¡¯s most depressing endurance test. Every step Lorelei took seemed to drain her strength further, as if gravity itself had decided to stage a coup and double its efforts just for her. It was like she was trapped in a personal hell where even the simple act of moving had become a Herculean effort. ¡°Ye alright back there, pet?¡± Pete¡¯s voice echoed from up ahead, filled with that blend of concern and annoyance that only a seasoned grandparent could muster. ¡°Peachy,¡± Lorelei lied, forcing her spine to straighten despite every vertebra screaming in protest. ¡°Just . . . enjoying the scenery.¡± The scenery, as it happened, was nothing more than bleak walls, shadows that seemed to wriggle out of the corner of her eye, and a smell that had decided it was better left unidentified.
***You Know What, You Were Right. This Is Fun Message***
So, I had a think and I cannot conceive of a better way to ¡®balance¡¯ the scales than this. You asked me to fuck around with an outcome, fine. The price of that little flight of fancy is that you become too heavy to try anything like that again for a bit. Congratulations! You''ve activated Jinxed Weight Gain! Enjoy the sensation of everything you carry¡ªincluding yourself¡ªgradually turning into the heaviest anvil I can imagine. And I¡¯m being creative with the old imagination here. Don¡¯t worry it¡¯s only for the next 24 hours. You¡¯ve got this champ!
Lorelei¡¯s eye twitched as she read the message. Somewhere, deep in her soul, the last vestiges of her ability to be snarky shrivelled up and died. ¡°You¡¯ve got to be kidding me,¡± she muttered, the words dropping from her mouth like stones. Even her tongue seemed to be in on the act. The tunnel away from the Wraith had started as merely unpleasant, but now felt actively malevolent. Her boots felt like they were made of lead, each step pulling her further into the ground with a spiteful determination. ¡°Come on, keep up,¡± Hild said, her tone hovering between impatience and concern. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with you?¡± Lorelei forced a smile, though it was closer to a snarl ¡°Just a little¡­ setback. The System¡¯s latest attempt at humour. I seem to have picked up another nasty debuff for casting back there. Nothing I can¡¯t handle.¡± Hild snorted. ¡°Not much of a joke if it gets us all killed. What is it with you and all these debuffs? You¡¯re like a magnet for the fuckers. You better not slow us down too much.¡± Zorrobar, who was usually a beacon of light and positivity, had slowed his pace to match hers. His normally upbeat demeanour had dimmed, and concern darkened his features. ¡°Lorelei, you¡¯re looking like absolute shit. What¡¯s going on?¡± ¡°Charmer,¡± she managed, the word a battle against the relentless force that was pulling her down to the ground. ¡°It¡¯s just that everything¡­ getting heavier.¡± Zorrobar¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°A weight-gain debuff? That¡¯s just sadistic.¡± ¡°No¡­ kidding,¡± Lorelei wheezed, feeling as though her lungs were closed for business. ¡°And¡­ it¡¯s getting worse.¡± Chrissy, ever cheerful, skipped back from the front of the group. But even her usual enthusiasm faltered as she took in Lorelei¡¯s state. ¡°Do you want me to cast another heal? I know it¡¯s not exactly what you need, but it might help.¡± Lorelei shook her head, immediately regretting it as the weight of her earrings¡ªnow apparently forged from neutron stars¡ªmade her head feel like it was going to topple off her neck. ¡°No¡­ save your mana. I¡¯ll manage. I don¡¯t think this is intended to do more than just teach me a lesson. I had to do a deal to grab Chrissy¡¯s .¡± Steffan eyed the bulging pack on Lorelei¡¯s back. ¡°Maybe we should divvy up her gear. Lighten the load a bit?¡± Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. ¡°It¡¯s not just the pack,¡± Lorelei admitted, her voice now barely a whisper. ¡°Everything¡¯s getting heavier. Even my own bloody limbs.¡± The group exchanged uneasy glances¡ªthe kind people share when they realize they¡¯ve just boarded a train bound for disaster. If Lorelei couldn¡¯t keep up, it wasn¡¯t just inconvenient; it was a death sentence. None of them wanted to risk anything like the Wraith coming after them. ¡°Alright, here¡¯s what we¡¯re going to do,¡± Pete said, in that tone of resigned authority that came from years of dealing with difficult situations. ¡°Lorelei, give me yer pack. I¡¯ll carry it. Hild, ye and I¡¯ll take turns helpin¡¯ her walk. We¡¯re not leavin¡¯ anyone behind, got it?¡± Lorelei opened her mouth to protest, but the words got stuck somewhere between her pride and the crushing weight of . . . well, her weight. With a sigh, she shrugged off her pack, wincing as her shoulders screamed in relief from the sudden lightness. Pete took it without a word, slinging it over his shoulder as if it weighed nothing at all. With Pete and Hild taking turns to prop her up like a malfunctioning marionette, they resumed their march through the Winding Way. It wasn¡¯t a march, really¡ªit was more like a prolonged stumble, punctuated by muttered curses and the occasional grunt of exertion. Even the tunnel walls seemed fed up with this whole ordeal and wanted to see it end. Time, never kind to those in distress, stretched on and on. Lorelei¡¯s legs trembled with each step, her vision swimming as exhaustion wrapped around her. Her thoughts felt as sluggish as syrup on the first pancake of the day. But still, she pressed on, driven by sheer stubbornness and the refusal to let her Guide win.
***Help Message***
That¡¯s the spirit. You¡¯re really showing me something here. Lot of guts. A lot of resilience. It¡¯s actually making me feel bad . . . no, sorry. Can¡¯t keep that up. This is hilarious. I¡¯m so glad you talked me into doing this. On the plus side, a little over 22 hours left. Go you!
After what felt like years of this torturous trek, they reached a wider chamber. The air was cooler ¡ªan almost pleasant contrast to the suffocating atmosphere of the rest of the Winding Way. ¡°Alright, we¡¯ll rest here fer a bit,¡± Pete announced, as though he were bestowing a royal pardon. ¡°Everyone, take a breather. We¡¯ve earned it.¡± Lorelei sank to the ground with a groan. The cool stone beneath her was a welcome change, and she leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes as exhaustion properly took hold. Every muscle screamed for rest, but she knew they couldn¡¯t afford to linger. Not in this place. ¡°How are ye holdin¡¯ up, pet?¡± Pete asked, kneeling beside her with concern and fatherly affection. ¡°Barely,¡± she admitted, her voice rasping like sandpaper. ¡°This debuff¡­ it¡¯s brutal.¡± ¡°Aye, it¡¯s a nasty one, that¡¯s fer sure,¡± Pete agreed, his brow furrowing. ¡°But we¡¯ll get through it. Ye¡¯ve been through worse.¡± Lorelei tried to smile. ¡°I don¡¯t know about that. Right now, it feels like I¡¯ve got the weight of the world on my shoulders. Literally.¡± ¡°Well, ye¡¯re not alone in carryin¡¯ it,¡± Pete said, giving her shoulder a pat that was meant to be comforting but only reminded her how much her shoulders hurt. ¡°We¡¯re all in this together.¡± As the group rested, Lorelei could feel the weight continuing to increase, even as she sat still. Her limbs felt like they were turning to stone, and every breath was an effort, as if her chest was being slowly crushed. ¡°Alright,¡± she said after a few minutes, her voice trembling with the effort it took to speak. ¡°We need to keep moving.¡± ¡°Ye sure ye¡¯re ready?¡± Pete asked. ¡°No,¡± Lorelei admitted, her voice barely more than a whisper. ¡°But we don¡¯t have a choice.¡± With Pete¡¯s help, she struggled back to her feet, every movement a monumental effort. ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± she said. Eventually, though, and not that much further down the way, her strength gave out completely. As she stumbled for the umpteenth time, unable to keep her balance, Steffan made a decision. "Ent!" he called, and the hulking creature stepped forward, its form a grotesque patchwork of roots and bones. "Carry her." Lorelei wanted to protest, but her body refused to cooperate. Ent lifted her as if she weighed nothing at all, cradling her in its twisted arms. The sensation of being carried by the undead creature was unsettling, to say the least, but it was better than the alternative¡ªcollapsing under the ever-increasing weight and never getting back up. With Ent carrying Lorelei, the group moved more quickly, though the mood remained sombre. Lorelei could feel her consciousness slipping, the exhaustion pulling her under like a riptide. The last thing she was aware of before everything went black was Chrissy''s voice, chattering away in a futile attempt to cheer Steffan up. As the darkness took her, Lorelei could only hope that when she woke, the debuff would have run its course. Because if it hadn''t, she wasn''t sure she would survive another step. Chapter 70 – A Man of Wealth and Taste Steffan had been clear that walking the Winding Way would be no picnic. Reading drily from his Guide, he had explained that they had fallen into a ''place of stone and death that would drink in the group''s lives like a thirsty creature.'' Which was quite a vibe. The tunnels they were walking down weren''t just quiet¡ªthere was a complete absence of sound which was so deep it felt positively aggressive. They had defeated the Wraith, that was true. But each of them knew they would be sadly mistaken if they thought that would be the last time they were tested on this quest. However, all Steffan could tell them was that, as far as he could tell, they had to keep pressing forward. This didn''t precisely feel like the best news they''d had since the integration began. Especially with their leader out for the count and their healer sadly lacking in the heals. Speaking of which, Kris had positioned himself in the middle of their little group, the spot where the cowards and the cautious usually stayed. He wasn¡¯t exactly sure which he was anymore, but he would be damned if he was going to let himself be picked off by any of the nasties he suspected were lurking in the walls. His eyes darted to every corner of the tunnel, tracking every unexpected movement. As he did so, his fingers twitched the hem of his robe, a motion he was repeating often, as if seeking reassurance it was still there. What gnawed at him more than the lingering fear of their encounter with the Wraith, though, was something darker. Something he sensed was beginning to unravel inside him ¡ª something new, intoxicating, and terrifying. This energy he had drained from the Wraith ¨C the fear of his friends - wasn''t like any power he¡¯d ever tasted before. It didn''t have the flavour of the usual thrill he got from manipulating Adoration, from bending the wills of those basking in his charisma. No, what the Wraith had surrendered to him was something raw, something that felt as though it had been wrenched from the very essence of the creature to lodge deep within him. It was powerful, he knew that. Whereas Adoration had felt like a thin stream of energy trickling into his core, whatever this was had teeth. And it was growing, slithering its way through his veins, feeding on his fear and - and this was pretty interesting - the fear of those around him. Just in the short time they''d been walking, he was feeling stronger than he ever had since selecting the Charm Leech Class. Had he got it wrong, back then? Seeking Adoration in order to heal rather than . . . whatever this could be. This new power was a feral thing, and it whispered to him in the darkness of the tunnels, promising strength, control, dominance. They don¡¯t need to know, it whispered. They are fated never to understand. Through the connection he used to monitor respect and admiration, Kris could feel the anxiety of the others, their fear seeping from their pores, and being pulled into the darkness inside him. Even now, he sensed he was more attuned to it than he had ever been to Adoration, it was like he was a bloodhound picking up a scent, and that realization scared him more than any Wraith ever could. Of course, he would choose to keep this burgeoning strength hidden. After Lorelei had exposed his Class, none of them would trust him if he mentioned what he was experiencing now. However, as the minutes of the trek bled into hours, and the Winding Way twisted on and on, he felt his strength grow bolder, like a disease that had decided to stop pretending it wasn¡¯t terminal. He could feel it in his fingertips, a surge that made them itch to act, to do something that he knew deep down would be irrevocable. Just take it. They don¡¯t want it. It will make you strong. Use what they offer to reach your destined role. Your rise is not subject to luck. At that thought, Lorelei, cradled like a broken doll in Ent¡¯s massive arms, drew his attention. She was pale, her skin translucent in the faint light, the debuff that had latched onto her crushing her by degrees. Even just yesterday, he would have felt only guilt for her condition, for not being able to help her more. Now, that guilt was tempered by a cold, almost clinical assessment of her fear, her weakness. It radiated from her, even in her semi-unconscious state, and was thrillingly potent. That fear called to him, promising to make him stronger if he only reached out and took it. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Now he thought about it, he could understand how the Wraith had twisted the party¡¯s own fears against them, growing stronger with each shiver, each terrified breath it elicited from them. In that, the monster had been like a farmer gathering his harvest, and - and wasn''t this interesting? ¨C it appeared that Kris could do the same. Fated to do the same. All of that power was there, just waiting to be plucked free, to be used however he wished. A part of him¡ªno, something more than just a part, something deep within¡ªwas ready, eager even, to take that step. The others, stumbling through the tunnels ahead, were lost in their own thoughts. They had no idea that the man walking among them was changing, that the creeping blackness within him was not just a passing shadow but a storm gathering strength. Even now, Kris was no longer a healer. No longer even a Charm Leech. He was becoming something else, something that he didn¡¯t yet have a name for. But names didn¡¯t matter. Not here. What mattered was that the power was real, and it was nearly his to command. All you have to do was give in, just a little, and the rewards will be . . . substantial. Kris¡¯s mind wandered, just for a moment, to a world where he wielded this power openly. Fear was a tool far sharper than any dagger and more reliable than any of these friends. If he succumbed to these whispers, he wouldn¡¯t need to charm or cajole anymore. Fuck Adoration. He could simply take what he wanted, when he wanted it, and there would be no one to stand in his way. Not the group, not the other adventurers they¡¯d crossed paths with, not even the creatures that lurked in these fucking cursed tunnels. They would all kneel before him; whether out of loyalty or terror made no difference. Kris shivered and shook his head, dispelling the thought like a bad dream. That wasn¡¯t him. Was it? He wasn¡¯t some megalomaniac, hungry for control. Nevertheless, as much as he tried to convince himself of that, he couldn¡¯t deny the thrill that the thought had brought. It was like touching a flame and feeling the warmth before the pain set in¡ªa warning that something worse was coming if he didn¡¯t pull away. But how could you pull away from something already inside you, growing stronger with every step you take? Accept your destiny. There is no other path open to you. Kris glanced at his companions again, noting their exhaustion, their desperation. It would be easy to push them just a little to see how much further they could fall. The dark voice within him whispered encouragement, promises of power that no one could resist. It was seductive, a voice that felt like it was his own but deeper, richer, more certain. He caught himself again, forcing his thoughts back to the task at hand. No. This was insane. They needed to find the amulet, and then escape this hellish place before it consumed them all. He couldn¡¯t afford to let himself be distracted by the lure of this new power, no matter how strong it became. Fate is patient. I have time, and I know that your resolve is like a candle in a storm¡ªflickering, uncertain, easily snuffed out. The future is set. And I can see the choice you will make. Lorelei groaned again, and Kris¡¯s gaze snapped back to her. The sight of her frail form stirred something in him, something akin to pity but twisted by the darkness inside. He could help her, he realized. Why not take her fear, her pain, and use it to make himself stronger? The poor woman wouldn¡¯t need to suffer, not like this. He could end it, end her suffering, and in doing so, claim more of the power that was waiting, hungry and eager. What! That thought horrified him, and yet... it made a terrible kind of sense. But no, he couldn¡¯t let himself think like that. He had to stay strong, to protect them, to lead them out of here. But how much easier would it be if they followed him out of fear rather than trust? He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms, trying to ground himself in the pain. The darkness surged, and he could feel it, like a wave crashing against a cliff, trying to wear him down, to erode his will. It whispered again, promising him power, control, everything he had ever wanted. It has already happened, Kris. I can see it. Why fight what shall be? Kris forced himself to keep walking, to focus on the path ahead. He had to stay in control, to keep the darkness at bay. But with every step they took, the power within him grew, and he knew that eventually, it would demand more than just his thoughts. It would demand action, and when that time came, he wasn¡¯t sure he would be able to resist. The others continued onward, oblivious to the battle raging within him, the darkness that was slowly, inexorably taking over. Kris smiled to himself, a small, secretive smile. Let them think he was still the same. For now. As they rounded yet another corner in the endless darkness of the Winding Way, Kris felt a strange calm settle over him. The darkness within was no longer just a whisper; it was a presence, a constant companion that walked alongside him. He could feel its tendrils curling around his thoughts, shaping them, guiding them. It was no longer a question of if he would use the power, but when. And when that time came, he would be unstoppable. Chapter 71 - You think power is to pray but Im sorry I dont pray that way The Winding Way spat the group out of its tunnels and into a cavern that made all of them suddenly reconsider the appeal of a quiet life in mushroom farming. It wasn¡¯t just vast; it was a whole subterranean dimension of full-on hellscape. The sight that greeted them didn¡¯t so much whisper ¡°turn back¡± as scream, ¡°GET OUT NOW!¡±¡ªand added a kick up the arse for good measure. Zorrobar, who had spent most of the journey trying to mentally map out every possible escape route, felt like they¡¯d been unceremoniously dumped into the mouth of some very large, very pissed-off creature. He¡¯d once managed to reach one of the latter levels of Doom and was rather wishing he didn¡¯t have that context right now. And what was worse, the stench of methane was so strong, he still couldn''t risk channelling any of his fire spells. This felt disproportionately debilitating since he had lived his entire adult life - until the last few days - without magic. But confronted by the swirling, shimmering, bloody mess before him, he was in full appreciation for the value of a fireball or two. The ceiling soared above him, lost in a darkness so complete it felt as if the shadows were less an absence of light and more an actively malign presence¡ªa monstrous grin watching them, waiting. Jagged stalactites dangled precariously, sharp and foreboding, and the walls¡ªslick with dripping blood¡ªglistened and bubbled, as if the cave itself was a living organism, exhaling some foul, viscous breath. ¡°Fuck, this is grim,¡± Zorrobar whispered, suddenly acutely aware of just how underpowered they all were in the face of this nightmare. His voice barely carried beyond his own lips, swallowed by the atmosphere that seemed to weigh down on them all, turning their thoughts sluggish and heavy. He glanced to his right and saw that Steffan¡¯s eyes were unfocused, clearly lost in consultation with his Guide. The Necromancer¡¯s brow was furrowed in concentration, muttering to himself as he read, the words tumbling out like a man trying to remind the universe of its own rules. ¡°This must be the heart of the cavern. My Guide says the Amulet of Drayton lies here, guarded by the Cursed Knight." Ent let out a low, rumbling grunt¡ªan ambiguous noise that could have meant anything from ¡°this sounds dangerous¡± to ¡°I¡¯m really craving some bark right now.¡± As it... spoke, yes, let¡¯s go with that, it adjusted Lorelei so that she was slumped over his shoulder like an overstuffed sack of potatoes. Her face was ashen, looking to all the world as if she was clinging on to the last vestiges of life. Chrissy was periodically casting a heal spell on her, but the debuff was clearly not responding to anything so mundane as her spells. Whatever was going down here, Fortuna¡¯s Herald was obviously not going to be playing an active part. Zorrobar grimaced at that. In every important confrontation the group had had since the Botanical Gardens¡ªespecially at the Botanical Gardens!¡ªit had been Lorelei that had played the decisive role in pulling their arses out of the fire. And that was without taking him and Kris off the table too. Pete and Hild were game, Michael and Michelle were... fucking creepy but brought the damage, and Steffan and Chrissy had great utility, but it still felt like they were bringing a knife to a nuclear war. ¡°The Cursed Knight,¡± Hild said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. ¡°Guarding the amulet with a sense of duty so fierce, it¡¯s lasted through the ages. I almost feel bad about what we¡¯re about to do.¡± Zorrobar loved that confidence and almost felt his own morale rise. But then he remembered the Valkyrie had great armour and a solid self-heal. Her belligerence reminded him of the old joke, ¡°I don¡¯t need to run faster than the lion, I only need to run faster than you.¡± As a heavy guy in flowing robes, he was a bit worried that if and when the fleeing started, he was going to see a lot of allies becoming safe little dots in the distance. Kris hid a grin as he tugged on Zorrobar¡¯s growing nervousness for what was to come. He still was not wholly sure how his Skills worked, but he sensed he was inflaming that man¡¯s worry a touch and feeding on the result. That didn¡¯t feel ideal¡ªmorality-wise¡ªbut the truth was, his sanity was fraying at the edges slightly. His way of looking at the world was darkening, like someone had dropped ink into the water of his perception. Basically, everything felt a bit tainted. And not just by consuming the fears of others; it was something fiercer, something that had been awakened within him when he¡¯d siphoned the Wraith¡¯s power. In the face of that, he was finding it hard to give a fuck that he was making the fat mage¡¯s heart quiver a bit. Even without Kris playing silly buggers with their minds, the heart of the cavern¡ªa vast, circular chamber that defied all logic, physics, and possibly the very fabric of reality¡ªwas not giving off positive vibes. None of the group could shake the feeling that this was precisely the kind of place where evil would set up shop, stick a discount on all villainy, and look to undercut the competition. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. However, rather than confronting the expected Big Bad and its enthusiastic minions, in the centre of the chamber stood a solitary figure, encased in armour that looked as though it had seen better millennia. It didn¡¯t need an act of astonishing deductive reasoning to realise that this was probably the Cursed Knight. He was sporting a patchwork of rusted metal and decaying leather, held together by what they could only assume was pure cussedness. His helmet¡ªa visorless piece of work¡ªwas turned toward them, though how the Knight could see them without eyeholes was a mystery none of them was particularly eager to solve. They¡¯d all seen Pan¡¯s Labyrinth and didn¡¯t want to give the System ideas. For a moment, the entire group stood frozen, the weight of the Cursed Knight¡¯s presence pressing down on them like the weightiest of weighted blankets. They could almost feel the crush of centuries bearing down on their shoulders, a heavy reminder that they were mere mortals in a place where mortality was nothing more than a distant memory. The fact that this was probably how Lorelei was feeling with her current debuff running was an irony lost on none of them. Apparently, the System was big on the shared experiences right now. Steffan cleared his throat and glanced at the others, who shrugged back. He had been their nominal leader¡ªalthough he had preferred to think of himself as their ¡®Speaker¡¯¡ªand felt, with Lorelei out for the count, he was going to need to take charge. He stepped forward, his shoulders squared in an effort to look more confident than he felt. Chrissy gave him a little pat on his arse as he went, which certainly put a bit more of a spring in his step. ¡°We seek the Amulet of Drayton,¡± he announced grandly, but his voice vanished into the cavernous space. He tried again, adding a bit more force. ¡°The Amulet of Drayton. We know it lies within this chamber, and we have come to claim it.¡± The Cursed Knight¡¯s helm titled ever so slightly as though considering Steffan¡¯s words¡ªor perhaps wondering if ¡°heroic speeches¡± were still in fashion these days. The Necromancer was just about to speak again when the Knight¡¯s voice emerged from the walls around them, a sound that was painfully dry, suggesting the speaker hadn¡¯t used their vocal cords in a very, very long time. ¡°To claim the Amulet,¡± the Knight intoned, each word dragging itself out with the enthusiasm of a lethargic traffic warden, ¡°one must answer the riddle of the Cursed Knight. Fail, and you shall join me in my eternal vigil.¡± Kris felt a cold shiver run down his spine, though whether it was from the Knight¡¯s words or the increased activity of the whispers within him, he couldn¡¯t say. The power he¡¯d drained from the Wraith was no longer a distant hum at the back of his mind; it was a full-blown roar, urging him to take control, to seize the power that was so tantalizingly close. He didn¡¯t know who the ¡®I¡¯ in him was anymore. Was it him? Or was the power he had drained from the Wraith developing its own personality? By far his least favourite Marvel character was Venom, and he really did not want to become Eddie Brock in this post-integration world. The Knight stepped forward, his movements slow and deliberate, like a glacier that had been granted a temporary reprieve from its aeons-long nap. ¡°The riddle,¡± the Knight began, his voice scraping like metal on stone, ¡°is thus: I am taken from a mine and shut up in a wooden case, from which I am never released, and yet I am used by almost every person. What am I?¡± His words hung in the air, the minds of each member of the party going completely blank. The cavern seemed to hold its breath as they stood there, the riddle spinning in their minds. Even Ent looked baffled, which was quite an achievement from a creature made from vegetation. ¡°Pencil lead,¡± Kris suddenly said, the words tumbling out before the swirling chaos within him could make him second-guess himself. The words echoed in the cavern, far louder than the words the Charm Leech had spoken, bouncing off the blood-covered walls and reverberating back to him, as if the cavern itself was considering the answer. He said it again. ¡°You¡¯re talking about pencil lead.¡± For a heartbeat, nothing happened, and the Cursed Knight remained motionless. Then, slowly, it lowered its sword, the metal exploding sparks from the stone floor as it touched it. ¡°You have answered correctly,¡± the Knight intoned, his voice carrying a note of something that might have been approval or just a weary resignation. ¡°The Amulet of Drayton is yours to claim. But be warned¡ªthe power it holds is not easily controlled. Choose wisely, or you may find yourself cursed as I am, bound to protect it for all eternity.¡± With those words, the Knight put a hand to his chest plate and wrenched it free, revealing a small, intricately carved shelf in the centre of his body. On it, presumably, rested the Amulet of Drayton, a small, unassuming object that looked about as threatening as a mildly irritated hedgehog. It was delicate, almost fragile in appearance, but each of them could feel the power radiating from it¡ªa power that called to the darkness within Kris like an old friend beckoning him closer. Chapter 72 - Who you gon tell when the repercussions spin? Showing off your ass Yes. Take it. It is ours. With an almost involuntary stagger, Kris took a few steps forward toward the Cursed Knight. His notifications were going crazy ¨C something within him was levelling up ¨C but the stark frenzied need in his internal voice made him hesitate at the last moment. He stood in front of the Knight, his hand inside his open chest, fingers hovering over the amulet. What was the cause of his hesitation. This was it wasn¡¯t it¡ªthe moment they¡¯d been hoping for, the goal he¡¯d set for himself from the moment he picked the Charm Leech Class. And as his fingers inched closer, almost touching the amulet, the dark, insistent whisper in the back of his mind grew louder, more persuasive. Take it. Claim its power. Show them all what we¡¯re capable of. Once it is yours, there will be nothing anyone can do anymore to stop you. You will blaze a trail through the tournament and no one in this integration will be able to stop you. The Fate of all will be set, with you as the judge and jury for all who transgress. That whisper had become something manic, no longer just a suggestion; it was a royal command. Kris could feel the pull of the amulet, a magnetic force that seemed to draw his very soul towards it. His fingers tingled with anticipation, the air around him thickening with the promise of power beyond imagination. And that thought sent a shiver down his spine, a thrill that ignited a spark of something darker within him. He could see it now¡ªthe way the others would look at him, not just with borrowed Adoration but with open fear. He¡¯d never have to rely on drawing out their fickle affections towards him again. With this amulet in his possession, he could lock in their loyalty forever, their obedience towards him could be summoned with just a glance. No more than a raised finger of command and he would bend them to his will. He would be able to make them see that fear was a far stronger motivator than love could ever be. He would be wholly unstoppable. The tournament would just be the beginning. But then, just as his fingers brushed against the amulet¡¯s cool surface, preparing to rip it free from its home in the Knight¡¯s chest, a sharp voice cut through the fog of his thoughts. ¡°Kris, wait!¡± Lorelei¡¯s sluggish voice was panicked. ¡°Don¡¯t claim it yet! Something isn¡¯t right here.¡± His hand froze, the darkness within him recoiling slightly at the unexpected interruption. As he turned to listen to Fortuna¡¯s Herald, the seductive pull of the amulet faltered, and he blinked as if waking from a trance. Lorelei was frantically ¨C well, as frantically as she could under the powerful debuff - trying to sit up straight in Ent¡¯s arms with the kind of urgency normally reserved for someone who¡¯d just realized they¡¯d left the stove on. She looked like death warmed over, yet her eyes were wide, alert, filled with a desperate glint that made Kris pause for a moment. ¡°Steffan, is there anything else your Guide says about this fucking amulet? Mine is being... less than helpful.¡± Lorelei¡¯s voice shook with the effort, each word dragged out through the crushing weight of exhaustion pressing down on her. The Necromancer eyes unfocused again. ¡°The amulet? Hang on, let me check. Yes, there¡¯s something more hidden here,¡± he said, his mouth moving along as he read. ¡°That¡¯s weird. There¡¯s suddenly a lot more added to the notes. I¡¯ve not seen it do that before. It¡¯s like there was a spoiler tag on it or something. Hang on. Sorry, one moment. Let¡¯s open it. Okay, there we go. Oh shit! Kris, back up. Fucking hell, it¡¯s not just the Cursed Knight you have to worry about. The amulet itself... it¡¯s... bloody hell ¡­ that¡¯s nasty. It¡¯s . . . ¡± ¡°For fuck¡¯s sake, make like Chrissy and spit it out!¡± Hild growled, her axe already halfway to a defensive stance. Her muscles had tensed, the sharp edge of her weapon glinting redly in the reflective light of the bloody cavern walls. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. Steffan¡¯s attention snapped back to the present, his face pale. ¡°It¡¯s cursed. The amulet¡ªit¡¯s not just a ticket to the tournament. It¡¯s some sort of power converter. It magnifies its bearer¡¯s mana to an insane degree. However, anyone who takes it is bound to it, just like the Knight. That¡¯s why he¡¯s still here, still guarding it. He couldn¡¯t let it go, couldn¡¯t break free. It¡¯s a fucking epic battery that eats your soul at the same time. Guys, it¡¯s the fucking Dark Side of the Force.¡± A heavy silence fell over the group, each of them processing Steffan¡¯s words. The idea of gaining immense power was tempting¡ªof course it was. They¡¯d all been somewhat humbled by the Levels of those that they had briefly met in Drayton Bassett. To be able to power level past that? Which of them didn¡¯t want that? But that didn¡¯t mean you ignored the cost. There wasn¡¯t one of them that didn¡¯t have a favourite Netflix show where someone chose to accept fell powers. And that never worked out too well. No one wanted to be a Nazi in the final scene of Raiders of the Lost Ark. Even so, Kris felt the pull of the amulet again, the darkness within him responding to the power it promised. It was like a drug; one he hadn¡¯t realized he¡¯d become addicted to until it was time to quit. ¡°I¡¯m not being funny or anything, but does anyone think that is a really shitty prize?¡± Chrissy said. ¡°Why would something this evil be the ticket to the tournament?¡± Kris couldn¡¯t help but agree and pulled his hand back from the chest of the Cursed Knight, but the allure of the amulet was still tugging at him like one of his demanding nephews. The ones he had to put up with at family meals and just wouldn¡¯t shut the fuck up. The dark whisper in his mind snarled, angry at being denied, but he forced himself to focus. ¡°So what do you want me to do? Do I take it or not?¡± ¡°Smash ta'' fucker,¡± Pete said, his voice gruff but filled with an urgency that brooked no argument. Steffan nodded, his voice trembling. ¡°I¡¯m with Pete. Destroy it. There¡¯s no way we want to have this sort of power anywhere near us. It¡¯s the definition of bad juju. And I¡¯m a Necromancer.¡± Kris stared at the amulet, its surface gleaming softly in the eerie light of the cavern. The thought of destroying it sent a pang of loss through him, as if he was being asked to melt down a part of himself. ¡°Destroy it?¡± he repeated, a mixture of relief and dread washing over him. Relief that he wouldn¡¯t have to face the temptation of the amulet¡¯s power, but dread at what that might mean. ¡°And how exactly do you suggest I do that?¡± But before Steffan could answer, the cavern began to tremble. The ground beneath their feet shook violently, sending loose rocks tumbling from the ceiling. The Cursed Knight let out a low laugh, like the death rattle of a long-forgotten god. Funnily enough, that description was really on the nose. ¡°You think you can destroy the amulet?¡± the Knight rasped, his voice filled with a dark amusement. ¡°Ha. So many have tried. And yet all have failed.¡± The Knight¡¯s helmet dropped down to focus on Kris, as if staring at him with eyes that saw more than they should. ¡°The power within it is too great, too ancient. It cannot be unmade by anything less than an Old One.¡± Lorelei, in her exhausted, crushed state, was not the only one who was sure they heard an upbeat female voice say, Well, isn¡¯t that a lucky coincidence? The tremors grew stronger, the ground buckling as if the cavern itself was coming to life. Kris stumbled, barely managing to keep his balance as the shelf holding the amulet in the centre of the Knight began to crack, deep fissures spreading outwards like spiderwebs to encompass the whole of the ancient guardian¡¯s body. ¡°Get back!¡± Hild shouted, her voice barely audible over the deafening roar of the collapsing chamber. But it was too late. The fractures carried on out from the Knight and onto the floor of the cavern. The cracks immediately gave way beneath them, and with a final, earth-shattering roar, the cavern floor crumbled into the abyss, taking the group with it. Lorelei felt herself falling, the darkness swallowing her whole as the world around her dissolved into chaos. The sensation was unlike anything she¡¯d ever experienced before¡ªa disorienting mix of weightlessness and vertigo, as if the very fabric of reality was unravelling around them. The roar of collapsing rock and the panicked shouts of her companions filled her ears, but all she could focus on was the overwhelming sensation of being pulled into the void. The last thing she saw before everything went black was the amulet, hovering in the air above Kris for a split second before it, too, was swallowed by the void. Chapter 73 - Your hairs on fire, you must have lost your wits, yeah In a secluded corner of the Worcestershire countryside, far removed from the presence of pesky mortals or the snooping eyes of lesser Old Ones, a small, impeccably manicured garden suddenly sprung into being. It was deliciously lush, packed with a riot of colour and looked like somewhere you might expect to find a family of particularly smug garden gnomes. The sort who sent their little gnomets to private school and holidayed in Lapland in order to sneer at the elves. In addition to these irritating little fuckers, white marble statues posed serenely among carefully pruned hedges, and a lovely breeze rustled the leaves of perfectly symmetrical trees. It was the epitome of fated, controlled order. Nothing as random as dandelion would ever dare set foot here. And yet, for all that, there was still something a little off about the place. For one, if you spent long enough there, you''d sense that the statues occasionally twitched when you weren¡¯t looking. Flipping the bird here, crossing their eyes there. Essentially, lots of little movements designed to unsettle and bemuse. Then, if that were not bothersome enough, you''d also notice that the millions of flowers in the garden bed kept changing, blooming in shades of colour that had no business existing in any sane universe. Oh, and of course, there was the hum¡ªa low, ominous vibration that suggested a fat lady might not yet be singing, but some significant vocal warm-ups were certainly going on. Basically, what you need to take from this little preamble is that the garden¡¯s ordered peace was really only superficial, like a placid lake concealing a writhing mass of tentacles just beneath the surface. Funny that . . . At the very centre of the garden, on a throne made of vines and gilded bones, sat Fortuna. She was currently wearing her avatar of a striking woman in her early thirties, golden hair cascading in waves down her back, and a smile playing at the corners of her lips. She was dressed in a flowing red gown that shimmered like a chest wound, and her eyes sparkled with the sort of mischief that every late-night gambler would recognise meant nothing good for the next turn of the card. Luck was not feeling so ladylike tonight. As if on queue - fortunately, she had been prepared for just this moment - a sudden chill swept through the garden. The statues stiffened, the flowers recoiled, and even the ever-present hum grew significantly quieter. If Sergio Leone did Goddess face-offs, it would have gone something like this. ¡°Well, isn¡¯t this a pleasant surprise,¡± Fortuna said, eyes flaring, ¡°And here I was, thinking, after my latest epic victory, I¡¯d have a quiet moment to myself.¡± A portal snapped open, and a figure emerged from its maw, striding into Fortuna''s garden with the grace of a panther on the prowl. Moira, the Weaver of Fate, looked every inch the supermodel teenager she chose to embody¡ªtall, slender, with raven-black hair that framed her porcelain face. Her eyes, however, were anything but youthful. They burned with the unyielding fire of millennia. It might even be said it was the gaze of someone who had watched civilisations rise and fall and cared little for the outcome. But that might be a touch on the nose. ¡°How fucking dare you!¡± Moira¡¯s rage melted the grass under her feet as she stalked towards the seated Fortuna. ¡°You have no right to throw your little pet project in the way of my plans.¡± Fortuna didn¡¯t bother to stand. She simply leaned back on her throne, crossing one leg over the other with effortless confidence¡ªMs Stone would have approved. ¡°Ah, Moira, darling. I was wondering when you¡¯d show up. I assume this is about that little unpleasant kerfuffle down the road?¡± Moira¡¯s lips curled into a sneer, and the statues in the garden trembled as her gaze swept across them. ¡°You know exactly what this is about. You just cannot help yourself, can you? Maintaining the Threads of Fate is my role, and you are repeatedly interfering in that!¡± Fortuna chuckled, the sound light and airy, like wind chimes tinkling in a summer breeze. ¡°It strikes me you seem to have become more than slightly obsessed with the ''threads of fate'' on this little planet, my dear. It¡¯s a big, wide universe! Do you not have anything else to do other than follow around my Herald? In fact, I¡¯m starting to think you might have a little bit of a crush on her. If so, let me know, and I''ll have a word. She strikes me as a broadminded girl; after all, once you go Old One, you never go back. No. Hang on. You go mad, that''s it. You go stark raving, howling at the moon mad." Moira¡¯s face darkened, and the garden responded in kind. The sky swirled with storm clouds, and the gentle breeze turned into a biting wind that tore through the trees, sending leaves spiralling to the ground. Where they touched down, jagged roots sprung through the turf to stab into the air. ¡°Your obsession with this . . . thing will be your undoing, Fortuna. Do you think you can use her to shake things up in the structure of the Old Ones? To disrupt order and carve out more power for yourself? It¡¯s reckless, and I will not be allowing it.¡± Fortuna¡¯s smile faltered for just a moment, her eyes narrowing as she felt the threat in Moira¡¯s words. In theory, they were reasonably equally matched one-on-one. However, the other Old One had far more . . . reliable allies to call upon. It was fun being the Goddess of Luck and all, but it did mean you tended to attract the sort of supporters who were the very definition of wild-eyed chaos monkeys. Making sure they''d all turn up on time for a ruckus on any given Thursday was tricky, whereas Moira''s squad was punctuality personified. Literally. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. However, she quickly regained her composure, flashing her trademark grin which was equal parts charm and defiance. ¡°Me? Reckless? Of course, I am. That''s pretty much my job description. And as I always tell you, luck favours the bold, my dear. But I don''t need to remind you of that, do I? Because look at you being all interfery with a new integration. You¡¯ve got your own little schemes in play here, haven¡¯t you? What was the plan again? Push the Charm Leech towards the amulet and hope he¡¯d help you take down my Herald? All a bit convoluted, I think, even for a twist of Fate.¡± Moira¡¯s eyes flared, and the statues nearest her cracked, thin fissures appearing on their surfaces as if they were made of brittle glass rather than marble. ¡°I had a plan,¡± she hissed, her voice dropping to a low growl. ¡°A plan that was perfectly calculated, perfectly controlled. And then you had to go and meddle, as always.¡± Fortuna shrugged, her nonchalance only serving to infuriate Moira further. ¡°You should know by now, Moira, that I can¡¯t resist tweaking Fate a little. It keeps things interesting. Besides, I''m not keen to let you turn Kris into your puppet. That boy has potential, but not in the way you¡¯re thinking. If he wants to serve you, fine. But it seemed fair to shuffle that deck up a little.¡± Moira¡¯s hands clenched into fists, and the ground beneath her feet began to crack, deep, jagged lines spreading out. ¡°You¡¯ve spoilt everything! I had that boy exactly where I wanted him. With my other champions, they would have made a perfect unit. Together, they could have won the Week One tournament, and then¡ª¡± ¡°And then what? You have your little trio strike down my Herald? Fuck''s sake, Moira, that''s an awful lot of effort. I mean, she''s basically one bad call away from taking herself off the board without you needing to do anything! All my Heralds are! How do you still not understand how this all works? If you weren''t so desperate to stamp out anything that doesn¡¯t fit your perfectly ordered universe, you''d see that by fucking around, you always end up just making things worse. How is all the finding out working out for you?¡± Moira¡¯s fury reached boiling point, and for a brief moment, the illusion of her supermodel facade flickered. The statues in the garden shattered, crumbling to dust as the true essence of Moira, the eldritch nightmare beneath the surface, began to seep through. Her eyes were burning twin stars, and her hair writhed as if it had a life of its own, dark tendrils curling and snapping around her. Fortuna, too, began to lose her grip on her human form. Her golden hair darkened, her skin taking on an otherworldly sheen as her smile stretched unnaturally wide, revealing rows of sharp, glistening teeth. The very fabric of reality in this part of the cosmos strained under the weight of their argument. ¡°You will regret your meddling, Fortuna,¡± Moira¡¯s voice was a deep, rumbling echo that seemed to come from the very heart of the universe. ¡°You think luck will be enough to save you when the Others become involved? To save your pathetic Herald?¡± Fortuna¡¯s laugh was no longer light and airy. It was a dark, guttural sound. ¡°Oh, Moira, you really should learn to relax. What¡¯s the point of all this power if you can¡¯t have a little fun with it?¡± But before Moira could respond, the System¡ªever the reluctant mediator¡ªchimed in with words that quivered on the edge of panic.
*** SYSTEM ALERT! ***
Look, getting into the middle of this is the last thing I want to do, but we''re basically at the stage of waking up First Desk to ask for advice, and you know how pissy she gets if she doesn''t get a solid three millennia of beauty sleep. Is there any danger you could take this off-world? I can''t keep either of your presence down here hidden any longer. As it is, I''m going to have to throw a bunch of beings to the wolves for letting a rupture in space and time occur. And those wolves are fucking hungry.
¡°Listen to the A.I, Moira,¡± Fortuna teased. ¡°We wouldn¡¯t want to break this iteration, would we? After all, it¡¯s such a pretty little place.¡± Moira snarled, her proper form flickering through once more before she forced herself back into the shape of the supermodel teenager. The ground stopped trembling, and the air grew still again. ¡°We will return to this, Fortuna,¡± Moira spat, her voice venomous. ¡°I will restore the Threads of Fate to good order. Your Herald won¡¯t survive the tournament, and once she is gone, there won''t be any reason for you to hide on this planet anymore. Then let''s see what happens.¡± With that, Moira turned on her heel and stormed out of the garden, her portal swallowing her up as she disappeared. Fortuna watched her go, her playful grin fading as genuine concern crossed her face. She ran a hand through her hair, the golden strands shimmering once more as she regained control of her appearance. The garden slowly returned to its previous state of artificial serenity, but the damage had been done. Statues lay in ruins, the ground was scarred with cracks, and the flowers had withered and died.
*** SYSTEM STABILISED. WORLD INTEGRITY RESTORED ***
Thank fuck for that. Is there any chance you can keep these little hissy-fits to a minimum? If there were anyone halfway decent keeping an eye on this integration it would already have been shut down!
Fortuna ignored the message and sighed, leaning back on her throne as she considered the mess she¡¯d made. Moira¡¯s anger was no small thing, and the threat she¡¯d made was not one to be taken lightly. The tournament was looming, and with it, the fate of her Herald¡ªand perhaps her own power on this world as well¡ªhung in the balance. ¡°Well, Lorelei,¡± she muttered, "I hope you''re feeling up for a tussle." Chapter 74 – Je vais et je viens, entre tes reins Lorelei opened her eyes to a very different world than they had closed in. For a start, gone was the brooding malevolence of the Winding Way and the horrors of Crookshollow, replaced by . . . something else. It was all too loud and bright to properly categorise immediately, but¡ªeven after such a very short acquaintance¡ªshe was painfully reminded of when she accompanied a friend and her two-year-old to a soft play. The chaos, the pounding music, the shouts and screams of triumph and disaster . . . yes, it was definitely reminiscent of an afternoon that had single-handedly convinced her to go back on the pill.
***Help Message***
Welcome back to the land of the living, chicken-little. I was a bit worried you were going to sleep through all the fun.
"Fun?" Lorelei tried to crack open her left eye, wincing at the effort. "The increased weight debuff still running, I see?"
***Of Course Message***
You didn¡¯t think a little thing like defeating the Cursed Knight, claiming the Amulet of Drayton, and foiling the machinations of the Weaver of Fate would grant you a break, did you? You can bet your sweet, sweet arse that debuff is still running.
"Maybe. But, you know, hope springs eternal." Ignoring the worrying development of her Guide appreciating her backside, Lorelei tried to open her other eye, but the effort was too much, so she had to do the best she could to take in her surroundings with the view she had. It was fair to say the whole vibe was akin to being dropped into the worst sort of fever dream¡ªif that dream had been designed by a sugar-addled child with a penchant for lurid colours, no regard for sanity, and easy access to crack. A migraine began forming in Lorelei''s head just from this short glance. The whole scene pulsated with a manic energy that screamed "fun," much like a clown screams "trust me." Of course, she recognised that the cursed weight debuff wasn¡¯t helping her frame of mind. The heaviness that had settled on her was like someone had strapped an aircraft carrier to her soul and told her to swim¡ªupstream, naturally, and against the current of an oncoming tsunami. Trying to get a handle on what was going on in her current state was like trying to peer at a rave through a letterbox whilst being punched in the face by Tyson Fury. Nevertheless, even from the little she could see, it was enough to make her wish she hadn¡¯t bothered. Everything was too much. The colours clashed in a way that would have made the most joyous, carefree and woke unicorn nauseous¡ªneon pinks battling toxic greens, with flashes of violent orange and searing yellows thrown in for good measure. A multitude of banners fluttered overhead, emblazoned with logos and slogans that might as well have been written in a foreign language or possibly the scribbles of a very determined serial killer. And the noise. Oh, the noise. It wasn¡¯t just loud¡ªit was a riotous symphony of shouting, cheering, and... was that bagpipe music? Someone really wanted this to be the most unwelcome place in the universe. It sounded to her like they were trying to play ''Imagine''. Somewhere to her left¡ªher depth perception was a touch out of whack¡ªa brass band was valiantly trying to keep up with the pace, while to her right, an announcer in the soothing tones of Gordon Ramsay was bellowing something about ¡°the greatest showdown in history!¡± Mind you, if this was history, Lorelei decided, she¡¯d be pretty on board with skipping the lesson. The arena itself¡ªat least, that''s what she thought she was lying in the middle of¡ªwas a mess of activity. Everywhere she managed to look, there were people, too many people, all of them bustling and jostling like they were on a mission to be the most obnoxious thing in sight. It reminded her a bit of the crush in the Mystical Market back on Day One, where people in outlandish costumes strutted about, their outfits defying both taste and gravity. It was a seething mass of bodies packed tighter than sardines, hollering and whooping with abandon. It was the sort of place where personal space came to die.
***Help Message***
Speaking of which, chipmunk, you¡¯ll have to get up off the floor soon. I¡¯m doing my best to keep you from being trampled, but, well, I¡¯m getting bored, and I¡¯m starting to visualise how funny it would be for a really big fucker to step on you. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
"What do you want me to do, Guide? I can¡¯t stand, I can¡¯t even fucking move under this debuff. Unless Pete or Ent or someone arrives to pick me up, I¡¯m kind of trapped here. Speaking of which, where is everyone else?"
***Help Message***
Oh, don''t worry your pretty little head about them. They¡¯ll be about, I''m sure. Dimensional transportation isn¡¯t an exact science, but you¡¯ve all been flagged as being in the same party, so don¡¯t stress too much. I have no doubt you¡¯ll be reunited before your turn to make your first run comes around.
"Our first what?" There was a tug on the edge of her perception, and from her limited vantage point, Lorelei could just make out all manner of contraptions apparently designed to maim, humiliate, or at the very least, terminally inconvenience anyone foolish enough to participate. Platforms were spinning, others were tilting, and one particularly fiendish set was launching participants into the air like they were nothing more than very unwilling human cannonballs. Lorelei reevaluated her view of this being the worst soft play centre imaginable. It appeared there were even fewer health and safety regulations. The spinning platforms were the sort of thing a sadistic game designer would throw in just to laugh at the inevitable chaos. And, oh look, there went some poor soul catapulting into the air to land with a crunch that suggested all the king''s horses and all the king''s men were going to be required. Lorelei imagined that whoever had created this was sitting back with a bucket of popcorn, watching the carnage unfold with the gleeful expression of a voyeur who had just telescopes, blackout curtains and uninhibited young women who failed to properly close their blinds. There were also slides. Because, of course, there were. But these weren¡¯t the friendly, plastic affairs from a regular soft play. No, these were towering, spiral monstrosities that looked like they¡¯d been constructed by someone who wanted to recreate the experience of being flushed down a toilet. Lorelei could just make out someone¡ªa tall, thin woman who was probably reflecting on a series of very poor life choices¡ªhurtling down one of them, their screams barely audible over the general din. They cut off pretty immediately when she passed under - or through was probably a more accurate word - a thin coil of wire stretched across it. Lorelei tried to move, to turn her head and take in more of this sensory assault, but the cursed weight debuff held her fast. She could only watch helplessly as it all unfolded around her. If she could have sighed, she would have, but even that small mercy was denied to her. Somewhere in the distance, a buzzer sounded, loud and obnoxious, signalling the start of something¡ªwhat, exactly, Lorelei couldn¡¯t tell. It could have been the beginning of the tournament or just someone¡¯s idea of a good time. Either way, she wasn¡¯t particularly keen to find out.
***Help Message***
Look, this is a bit pathetic. If I wanted to hang around with an immobile blob, I¡¯d be basing myself somewhere that deep-fries their protein. Can you at least make an effort to stand so this is less dull?
"Tell you what. How about I cast , and we change up the debuff to something new? I¡¯m sure there¡¯s something you can find that lets you enjoy my torment without completely incapacitating me." There was a pause where her ticker tape didn¡¯t move.
***Fine***
With no further ado, Lorelei targeted herself and fired up , sighing in pleasure as the crushing weight lifted off her. Suddenly free from the restriction, Lorelei stood, narrowly avoiding being stepped on by an arguing group who had completely missed that she was lying in the mud under their feet. "Sorry," Lorelei said, backing up away from them. Or at least, that was what she intended to say. Instead, she appeared to scream at them in a rather . . . erotic way. They blinked back at her, confused, then shrugged and went on their way. Lorelei watched them wander off, a little puzzled at what had just happened and then turned to promptly crash into a shorter woman carrying a broadsword that looked as though it had eaten three square meals a day and was still hungry for more. Once again, she opened her mouth to apologise for the intrusion, but instead of words, more noises escaped¡ªnoises better suited to an entirely different kind of interaction. The woman stared at her, one eyebrow raised in bemused contempt, before shaking her head and walking away.
***Satisfied Message***
Yes, you¡¯re right. ''Cursed Weight'' out, ''When Harry Met Sally'' in. A much more satisfying outcome.
Chapter 75 - Pleasure at the Fairground on the Way Chrissy read the note that Lorelei passed her, then looked up quizzically. ¡°So, every time you speak¡­¡± Lorelei nodded. ¡°What, like full-on Meg Ryan?¡± Lorelei nodded again. "Awesome. You''d have made some serious cash in my old game with an ability like that! Say something!" Lorelei was not particularly thrilled by this revelation, but then, who could blame her? Every word she now uttered was met with the kind of reaction typically reserved for particularly steamy scenes in late-night television. It was like her vocal cords were perpetually stuck on the adult channel; the remote control was forever out of reach.
***Approving Message***
You know, I always liked this one. She has the right outlook on life. Perky.
The notification blinked at her with the smugness of a cat that¡¯s just knocked something off a high shelf, daring her to swat it away. Lorelei dismissed it, her irritation only growing at how accustomed she¡¯d become to these constant intrusions. The fact her new vocal stylings were actually a step up from being slowly crushed to death was neither here nor there. Lorelei took back the pad of paper she''d bought off a Vendor for the princely sum of 1 gold. To be fair, she recognised it was more than just a ''pad of paper'', but at that moment, she wasn¡¯t really in the mood to appreciate it properly. It had taken some time for Lorelei to explain what she needed to the little NPC Goblin¡ªwho bore an uncanny resemblance to the shopkeeper back in Pandora¡¯s Box (***Nothing Wrong With Recycling Skins Message***) ¡ªshe had been offered this ''invaluable tool for the discerning adventurer.'' The goblin had beamed at her, displaying a set of teeth that could have been described as charming if one was particularly far away. ¡°Just what you need, miss! Perfect for all your heroic scribblings!¡±
Rewritable Pad & Enchanted Pencil
Item Type: Utility Tool (Uncommon) Required Level: n/a
Class Compatibility: n/a Weight: Light
Endless Pages: The pad of paper can be written on and erased an infinite number of times. The pages refresh themselves when erased, returning to a blank state.
Memory Recall (Limited): The pad can remember and restore the last three sets of writings that were erased. This allows users to retrieve recently discarded notes or sketches.
Emotion Ink: The pencil lightly imbues written words with the writer¡¯s emotional intent. This can add a subtle, persuasive quality to letters or notes but has no effect on spells or enchantments.
Soulbound: The pencil is soulbound to its first user. If misplaced, it reappears in the user¡¯s possession at dawn.
Special Ability: Word of the Moment. Once per day, the user can write a single word on the pad that briefly enhances their focus or creativity, granting a small bonus to Intelligence or Wisdom (+1) for 10 minutes. This effect is minor but useful in critical moments.
She had stared at the goblin, then at the pad, then back at the goblin, who was still grinning as if he had just sold her the deal of a lifetime. Lorelei, however, was not so easily convinced. But given the current state of affairs¡ªspecifically, her own personal affair with involuntary vocal pornography¡ªshe had grudgingly handed over the gold, noting with some irony that even a voice enchanted with the dulcet tones of a screaming orgasm hadn¡¯t managed to earn her a discount. "Have you seen any of the others?" she wrote, passing the paper back. Chrissy shrugged. "No, but this place is enormous. I''m sure they''ll be here somewhere. Before we know it, they''ll all turn up. Anyway, forget about them for a bit; what do you think of my new costume?" As Chrissy''s Class imbued her with the power of whatever clothing she was wearing, this was more than a vanity request for affirmation. Although, considering how little the Chameleon Courtesan was currently wearing, it didn''t take long for Lorelei to complete her consideration. "You''ve gone full-on Barbarian?" Lorelei wrote, an eyebrow arching as she took in the strategic placement of fur tassels that barely covered the woman¡¯s modesty. Chrissy twirled on the spot, the scant pieces of material somehow managing to stay in place despite their clear intention to defy all known laws of physics and common decency. "Well, I was thinking about my Skill, and it just seems to make sense. Looking at that¡ª" she nodded towards the insane obstacle course that a team of Level 21s were currently failing to navigate in less than a million pieces¡ª"I thought a bit more survivability would make sense." "But what about the healing?" she scrawled, adding a small frown for emphasis. She couldn¡¯t help but feel healing was one of those things that people only thought about after the fact, usually while lying in a pool of their own blood and reflecting on how things could have gone differently if only someone had put a bit more thought into their Class choices. Chrissy wrinkled up her nose at the note. "Look, I get you being a bit down on Kris, but he never let us down as a healer. I don''t think it''s making the best out of me to double up there. When you''re back to yourself, you''ve got a heal, Hild can self-heal, and Steffan''s got spells to take care of Ent. Even with less power than he used to have, it makes much more sense for the others to rely on Kris and for me to be able to do more than just stand at the back and simper. And I''m rocking this look." Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Lorelei didn''t necessarily agree, but it was true that the group had been using Chrissy like a flesh-and-blood Swiss Army knife. The trouble with being multi-functional was that people often forgot you had feelings or, indeed, any say in the matter at all. She jotted down her next question with a touch more empathy. "So, what Class are you currently?" she wrote, handing the pad back. "Berserker Ravager, apparently. I can''t wait to see Steffan''s face. He won''t know where to look!" By the various glances Chrissy was getting whilst they were speaking, Lorelei thought she had a pretty decent idea where the Necromancer''s gaze might be attracted. "Do you know anything about what we''re supposed to be doing?" Lorelei asked. Or, more accurately, she moaned ecstatically¡ªat length¡ªin a way that gathered them even more attention. Blushing, she grabbed back the notepad and wrote down her question, trying to ignore the various thumbs-ups and appreciative nods from bystanders who had clearly misinterpreted her current level of enthusiasm for the upcoming obstacle course. "You really have a talent for that, you know! I had¡ªwell, had¡ªa few clients that would pay off your mortgage for a few hours of you moaning at them," Chrissy beamed, then frowned as she read the message. "Not really. My Guide says that we''re fifth in the queue for our ''first run,'' which I presume has something to do with all of that," she gestured towards the assault course. "Fifth in the queue?" Lorelei silently asked her own Guide.
***Help Message***
Don''t sweat it, bingo wings. The first run of the course is really just a way to sort the men out from the boys. Everything''s basically set to stun, and it''s rare for there to be casualties. The idea is to weed out those who are simply not up to it before the tournament proper kicks off.
The veracity of her Guide''s words was somewhat undercut by the sudden fountain of blood shooting up from a decapitated corpse who had zigged when it might have been advisable to zag.
***No harm no foul Message***
Yeah, but what you''ve got to understand is that he was a Level 19. You''re not supposed to be anywhere near this place until you are at least a 20. To all intents and purposes, he was asking for it. Pretty much assisted suicide just by stepping into the arena.
Lorelei''s jaw tightened as she furiously scribbled on the pad. "I''m the fucking highest levelled of our group, and I''m only Level 13! What have you got us into!"
***Not Much Help Message***
I''d be finding this conversation much more amusing, sweetie, if you''d be verbalising, rather than thinking things at me. Look, there''s no point being all pissy with me. I couldn''t have been clearer when I gave you this quest. I said don''t touch it with a bargepole, and yet there you went, blindly careening into the Winding Way to find the amulet. Your party claimed it, so here you are. You get automatically entered into the arena by being here, so there''s nothing I can do about it. Best bet is to quit your whining and start working out how you''re going to make it through alive.
Cursing¡ªsomewhat orgasmically¡ªLorelei turned to watch the ''show'' for a few moments. She''d thought defeating the Chimera had required some epic teamwork, but it was nothing compared to the complexity of the obstacle course they were fifth in line for. It resembled something designed by a lunatic with a particularly vindictive sense of humour¡ªperhaps the kind who enjoys painting kittens in chainsaw duels.
***Clarification Message***
Third. One of the teams ahead of you has taken one look at it and chosen not to complete it.
"That''s an option?" she scrawled hastily, her heart doing an odd, hopeful little skip. The idea of not having to partake in what could only be described as "overkill with a sprinkle of sadism" was very appealing.
***Help Message***
Sure. Didn''t I explain that? You can absolutely choose not to take part.
Lorelei felt a wave of relief, so powerful she could almost hear an imaginary orchestra cue up a triumphant swell. Finally, a way out! She could see it now: they would politely decline, head to the nearest inn, perhaps enjoy a drink that didn¡¯t come with a side of existential dread. "Well, then we do that. We refuse to make our run." She wrote with a flourish, already imagining the look of bafflement on the faces of the other teams as they waltzed out of the arena, heads held high.
***Your Funeral Message***
Okay, well if that''s what you want. I mean, having my Class ripped from my body and my shrieking, Classless self sent to the Underworld as a plaything for demons feels like a pretty big downside compared to going for a little jog and a climb, but you do you.
"Oh, do fuck off," Lorelei said aloud, earning herself another round of amused glances, and a particularly enthusiastic wave from a centaur. As she glared at the pad, Lorelei couldn''t help but feel that, on balance, she was a lot more fond of the days when her most difficult decisions involved the rewriting of the Safeguarding policy. Back then, "stressful" meant deciding whether to make announcing pronouns mandatory. Now, "stressful" involved the very real possibility of a brutal, untimely, and potentially very messy death. Sighing, she stole another glance at the assault course. Even from this angle, it was clear was a labyrinth of traps, pitfalls, and inexplicable design choices. Each obstacle seemed more ludicrous than the last: there were walls that oozed oil, swinging blades that would have made even the Grim Reaper pause to take notes, and the occasional burst of flame that really added that special something, a little "je ne sais quoi" that said, "You''re going to die, but you''ll be very warm when you do." ¡°Third in the queue,¡± Chrissy said, almost to herself, as she continued to watch a particularly muscular orc attempt to navigate the course. It was difficult to tell what part of the orc¡¯s efforts were due to sheer determination and what part was just sheer panic. Lorelei¡¯s earlier wave of relief had evaporated, leaving behind the cold, clammy realisation that they were not, in fact, getting out of this. ¡°Well, at least we get to see what happens to the people in front of us,¡± Chrissy said brightly, in the kind of tone usually reserved for people trying to find the silver lining in a mushroom cloud. ¡°Or what¡¯s left of them,¡± Lorelei wrote. Another burst of flame erupted from the course, followed by a scream that Lorelei was certain had started as a roar of defiance. The team currently on the course was not faring well, which was not doing wonders for her already frayed nerves. If they couldn¡¯t make it, how could she and her team? ¡°Any ideas on how to survive this?¡± she wrote, shoving the pad at Chrissy. ¡°Run fast, duck often, and pray?¡± Chrissy suggested - the kind of advice that was technically sound but deeply unhelpful. ¡°I mean, we¡¯ve faced worse, right?¡± A fresh round of screams echoed through the arena, drawing their attention back to the course. The Level 21s, or what was left of them, were clinging to the last shreds of their dignity. The obstacles had torn through their ranks with the precision of a bureaucrat on a deadline, and it was clear that the course had not been designed with any intention of letting anyone leave it in one piece. ¡°Whatever happens, at least we¡¯ll have a story to tell,¡± Chrissy said, ever the optimist. ¡°Yes,¡± Lorelei wrote with a flourish, ¡°assuming we have anyone left to tell it to.¡± Chapter 76 - Kris awoke with a start, though the kind of start which was more of a mildly annoyed shuffle rather than the sort of frantic leap that typically followed dreams of falling or battling Cursed Knights. Ah, but it wasn''t a dream, was it . . . Groaning, Kris tried to stand, but his body felt oddly heavy, as if gravity had decided to throw an impromptu tantrum. It was like he had the worst hangover of all time, the dull ache at the back of his mind refusing to leave him alone. His pool of . . . he didn''t know what to call it anymore. He sensed his powers weren''t solely charged by Adoration anymore. But he wasn''t quite ready to think he ran on Fear batteries. At least not yet. When the fuck did life get this complicated? Swaying slightly, Kris blinked, trying to get his bearings. Not in an underground cave anymore, that much was clear. This was more Villa Park on match day. So where was he? He caught sight of a massive banner fluttering overhead. Right. The Grand Tournament. So this must be the arena. The arena and the Amulet. The Amulet that was currently tucked under his shirt, carrying a weight that felt more significant than its physical mass. As soon as he thought about it, he could feel its influence, a constant pull, like those insistent whispers that had settled into the back of his brain. Was he going completely around the bend? His fingers brushed against the cool metal. This had been their entrance ticket to the tournament, hadn''t it? He couldn''t quite remember what had happened at the end of their quest on the Winding Way, but he felt sure the others would be looking for it¡ªlooking for him, too. A part of him, the part that still remembered the pre-integration Kris, wanted to find them, wanted to help hold the group together. They were a team, after all, and he was their healer. They were supposed to stick together, continue to face the challenges of this System as one cohesive unit . . . But then there was the other part of him, the part that had begun whispering to him on the Winding Way and seemed to have intensified since he¡¯d slipped the Amulet around his neck. This part wanted him to do . . . well, nothing. It whispered to him to sit here, wait it out, watch events unfold. To revel in the slow but steady trickle of power he could feel seeping into him. The voice wanted him to wait until . . . others found him. Not his current group, that much was clear, but a different one. A new one. That was . . . interesting. The drip of incoming power was subtle, not the kind of overwhelming surge of Adoration he''d felt in the last few days, but more like a steady background swell of energy. He didn''t think it was Fear that drew the mana in. The Levels of those bustling around him were so much higher, he doubted they even noticed him anymore. It obviously wasn''t Adoration, either. Nobody was looking at him with longing. In fact, there was something rather unpleasant about the way their eyes slid past him. Like they knew, deep down, that it would be better to forget him entirely. Maybe it was Fear, after all. Charm Leech. He still didn¡¯t really know how his Class worked, but he knew he had Skills that pulled in mana from those around him, not enough for anyone to notice, but just enough to give him a low, constant supply. The best kind of crime was one that went unnoticed, and - until Lorelei had called him out on it - Kris had quickly become good at not being noticed. Feeling more steady on his feet, he scanned the arena, watching as other teams went about their preparations for what looked like the most deadly episode of the Krypton Factor ever. The insane obstacle course loomed in the distance, a twisted nightmare of ropes, walls, and traps. He should have felt something watching them¡ªa sense of camaraderie for all the humans testing themselves or even just a flicker of concern for his own team''s upcoming trial. Instead, he felt... nothing. And that was the problem, wasn¡¯t it? The nothing. That empty space where his feelings should be, where his sense of duty and loyalty used to sit like comforting, well-worn furniture. It had been replaced by something cold and calculating, something that whispered of patience and power, of waiting for the right moment, the perfect opportunity to act. This whisper had got under his skin, turning his thoughts inside out until he wasn¡¯t sure where his own ended, and it began. He¡¯d thought he could resist it at first. After all, he wasn¡¯t some wide-eyed fool fresh out of medical school. He¡¯d survived years in hospitals, navigating the delicate politics of senior doctors and administrative chaos. He¡¯d thought he had control over his own mind, his own choices. But then, how much of that control had been an illusion from the start? Had the System not just shown him the way the universe actually operated? In the pre-integration world, Kris had been a junior doctor. That title was an insult, really. He had completed all the years of rigorous training, spent countless hours in surgery and on-call, yet the title ¡®junior¡¯ stuck to him like an unwanted nickname everyone refused to let go of. He wasn¡¯t a student anymore¡ªhe hadn¡¯t been for years. That label had chafed at him, gnawing at his self-worth, reminding him that no matter how hard he worked, he was still lesser in the eyes of his seniors. A cog in the vast, unfeeling machine of the NHS. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Kris remembered one particular night, stuck on shift during the graveyard hours. A patient had come in with a relatively straightforward case of appendicitis, but the attending Consultant¡ªa pompous relic with a penchant for pontificating¡ªinsisted on turning the procedure into a long-winded teaching opportunity for "the kids". Kris had stood there, hands ready, knowing exactly what needed to be done, but was forced to watch as the old fart droned on, every moment stretching the patient''s pain and delaying the inevitable relief. The frustration had built up like steam in a kettle, but he¡¯d kept it bottled up. He had to. He wasn¡¯t supposed to argue. He wasn¡¯t supposed to know better, even when he clearly did. That night had been a turning point for him. He¡¯d realised, perhaps for the first time, just how little power he actually had. He had the knowledge, the skill, but not the authority to act. And that had infuriated him. Now, though? Now, he had access to all the power he might ever need. It was subtle, yes, but it was there. This . . . power flowed into him constantly, feeding him, strengthening him. He didn¡¯t have to wait for someone else¡¯s permission to act. He didn¡¯t have to follow orders, didn¡¯t have to play by the rules. So why wasn¡¯t he acting? Before the battle with the Chimera, he''d been a useful member of that group. He''d actually been able to heal the rest of the group how he had always wanted to. The question of his current inaction gnawed at him. Why was he still sitting here, watching from the sidelines, when he could be out there, finding the others, using the Amulet to secure their place in the tournament? Why was he letting himself be paralysed by nothing more than when he had the power to do something? Because doing something meant confronting what he had become. And Kris wasn¡¯t sure he wanted to face that just yet. He glanced down at his hands, flexing his fingers. They looked the same as they always had¡ªsteady, capable, the hands of a healer. But there was something different about them now, something he couldn¡¯t quite put his finger on. It wasn¡¯t just the influence of the Amulet was it, although it was certainly played a part. And the whispers had begun before that . . . No, this was deeper, older, something that had always been there, lurking beneath the surface. Before the integration, he¡¯d never questioned whether he was a good person. He¡¯d made sacrifices, sure. He¡¯d worked long hours, missed social events, neglected relationships¡ªall in the name of helping others. That was what doctors did, wasn¡¯t it? They put others first. They healed. They saved lives. But now, ever since those messages in the sky, that sense of purpose was fading. Healing wasn¡¯t just a job anymore¡ªit was a tool, a means to an end. He could use it to manipulate, to control. He could heal someone just enough to keep them loyal, just enough to make them need him. And wasn¡¯t that what the whispers were getting at? Power wasn¡¯t about brute force. It was about control. Subtlety. Charm. Manipulation. Those thoughts made his stomach twist, but he couldn¡¯t deny the truth of it. The more he leaned into his Charm Leech abilities, the more he felt the seductive pull of that power. It wasn¡¯t about Fear or Adoration¡ªno, it was something far more insidious. A quiet, unnoticed influence that worked its way into the minds of those around him, making them pliable, agreeable. He didn¡¯t need them to worship him. He just needed them to forget he was there until it was too late. Kirs remembered another moment from before the integration¡ªanother of those endless nights in the hospital. He¡¯d been called into a room where an elderly patient was refusing treatment. She was scared, confused, and utterly convinced that the doctors were out to get her. The Consultant on call, a brusque man with no patience for ¡°difficult¡± patients, had ordered Kris to sedate her. But Kris hadn¡¯t done it. Instead, he¡¯d sat by her bed, talking to her in low, soothing tones, using his charm¡ªnot mana back then, but the kind that came from empathy¡ªto calm her down. She¡¯d eventually agreed to the treatment, and the crisis had been averted without any need for sedation. It had felt good, in that moment, to know that he had helped someone, that he¡¯d used his skills for good. But now? Now he wasn¡¯t so sure what ¡°good¡± even meant. The Amulet pulsed faintly against his chest, a reminder of the choices he¡¯d made, and the choices yet to come. The others would be looking for him, that much he knew. But he wasn¡¯t ready to face them. Not yet. Not with the growing awareness of the path he was walking. They don¡¯t need you, the voice in his head whispered. They¡¯ll be fine without you. Just sit back. Watch. Wait. See how things unfold. And he was tempted. Gods, he was tempted. Because sitting here, waiting, meant he didn¡¯t have to confront the man he was becoming. It meant he didn¡¯t have to make any more decisions, didn¡¯t have to face the consequences of his actions. "Eh, Kris, ye aalreet, lad? Ye seen any o'' the others, like?" Kris turned at the sound of Pete''s voice. The old tank was stood a little way off to his left. Kris Guide confirmed that man felt great wariness towards him. He wished it would go away, that he''d forget all about his fucking Class. active. Kris blinked as he felt his mana drop. Had he triggered a Skill? Then he felt a wash of Adoration hit him from Pete. Surprised, he looked back towards the tank, seeing the wariness replaced by genuine joy to see him. "Proper good t¡¯see ye, man. Worried summit¡¯d happened to ye! Come on, we¡¯ve gotta find the others. We¡¯re supposed te have a gan at that bloody obstacle course soon, like!" Kris let himself be dragged, bodily, behind the man. In the swirl of his emotions, he thought he could make out a soft voice saying Interesting. Chapter 77 - Hook me up a new revolution cause this one’s a lying charm leech It didn''t take long for the group to find their way back to each other. Considering the hundreds upon hundreds of people milling around the arena, it had needed a series of rather fortunate coincidences for them to all bump into each other. Lorelei figured this was the least her Guide could do. "So, let me get this straight," Hild said in her grumpiest of tones. "Despite not wanting access to this tournament - a tournament explicitly aimed for those considerably higher in level than any of us - we completed a quest for an entry token. Having then discovered that said entry token was cursed with, and I''m quoting our Necromancer here, ''the dark side of the Force'', we concluded that destroying it was the sensible way forward. Is everything I''m saying thus far accurate?" There was a series of murmurs of agreement and one ecstatic moan. "However, rather than ticking this quest off our list of ''things to do'', we instead now find ourselves in the fucking tournament, scheduled to undertake a run of an assault course that is - at best - going to ritually kick our arses, and our highest level group member has no access to her Skills and appears to constantly be in orgasm?"
***Approval Message***
You know, I went off her for a bit back there, but the big girl is growing on me again. There''s something about a person who can see right to the heart of the matter. I think her no-nonsense energy is just what this group needs more of.
Lorelei dismissed the message, eyes fixed on Kris. She couldn''t tell what was going on, but it was like the rest of the party had forgotten the whole ''Charm Leech'' thing and were treating him like they did on their journey to the cathedral. She could practically feel the Adoration flowing into him. Not being able to talk was proving to be an absolute pain in the arse, and she was struggling to get anyone to look at the notes she was trying to surreptitiously pass them without Kris noticing.
***Help Message***
And I can tell you another thing, caramel slice, I''m quite liking the ''see lots of evil, speak no evil'' version of you. It''s adding a whole new dynamic to this group. It''s all got a bit ''Fortuna''s Herald says'' since you bodied the Chimera, and I think giving a few others a chance to shine would be good. That Necromancer, for example; he just screams ''leadership potential''.
Lorelei glanced over towards where Steffan and Chrissy were stood under the shadow of Ent. She knew that, before she''d come along, the rest of the part had been looking to Steffan for direction. Of course, this was mainly because he commanded a Cheerleader Zombie army that hadn''t survived their travels. Also, her ''coming along'' had been saving them all from certain death at the hands of vengeful PvPs. Lorelei couldn''t help but think that there were only so many certain wipes one leader should really have on their scoresheet . . . However, the problem wasn''t that the rest of the group - in the absence of her being able to say anything unerotic - were looking to Steffan for guidance, it was that they were all treating Kris like the second coming.
***Unhelpful Snort***
You trying to talk is hardly dispelling that impression, love.
"Look, I don''t know what happened," Kris was saying in response to Hild. "But we''re here now, and from everything my Guide is telling me, this is a fantastic opportunity for us to progress. People of our level simply don''t usually get access to this tournament at the end of the first week of integration. This sort of thing is going to make the gap between the powerhouses and the rest of us grow. If we''re not careful, we''re soon going to be so far behind everyone else, we''re doomed." Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Lorelei ground her teeth at how reasonable the man was sounding. But there was a reason people of their level didn''t get access to this tournament - it was that they were too squishy to stand a chance. Even in the short amount of time they''d been stood together, three other teams had been defeated by the obstacle course.
***Clarity Message***
Just so that you are under no illusions, cupcake, by ''defeated'', I hope you know you mean ''turned to red mist''. There''s no tray of oranges, a comforting pat on the back and a wet sponge for anyone who takes part in this first challenge and fails to meet the appropriate standard. This is a full-on, ''survival of the fittest'' winnowing out of competitors before the tournament proper starts. Wheat from chaff. Men from boys. Feel free to supply your own metaphor for summary execution. Oh, and just one more snippet of information that I''m sure will make your socks roll up and down.
"Go for it," Lorelei thought, trying to assimilate the warning. "Tournament proper?" This wasn''t even the real start of things?
***Help Message***
So, the Charm Leech is saying his Guide is giving him the skinny on things. I can confirm that there is no version of me - either the cookie-cutter version most people get or the full-flavour bespoke treatment you''re having - that is giving him any info at all. So, either our mutual friend is full of bullshit or . . .
"Someone else is talking to him?"
***Spot on Message***
That opens up all sorts of interesting questions, doesn''t it?
* Michael/Michelle - there really wasn''t much to differentiate them anymore - listened to what their healer said with interest. Ever since they''d both been rewarded with the passive Skill after the defeat of the Chimera, they''d noticed that they were increasingly acting and thinking as one. Other brothers and sisters may have found this to be a very unwelcome development. Sibling rivalry being what it was for most people, that could be understood. However, Michael and Michelle had always been close. Coming from a large family, they''d identified each other as allies from an early age, and had stuck together in the face of all the slings and arrows - often literally - that a somewhat fraught domestic life had thrown at them. Growing up, the only way to survive the Smith household was either to be the biggest, baddest bully in town - and their eldest brother Malachi had sewn that role up tight - or to retreat to the shadows, try to avoid notice, and ensure someone was around to watch your back. The latter choice, made entirely unconsciously when barely out of their cribs, suited them both down to the ground. Thus, when the integration came, it had been no surprise that they had both ended up with the same Class. Nor that Veiled Stalker seemed to have all sorts of exciting bonuses when they acted in concert. During their fight with the Chimera, Michael had been horribly injured. So much so, he''d not actually been able to take much part in the eventual slaying of the beast. That enforced separation at such a critical moment had a rather traumatic effect on the two, and secretly, they couldn''t stop themselves from blaming Lorelei for it. To be fair, both of them understood that Fortuna''s Herald had absolutely saved Michael''s life. Without her intervention, wrapping him up , he would certainly have died from his terrible injuries. And, for a short while, they had both felt a huge surge of gratitude towards her, especially when . . . Michael/Michelle frowned, their train of thought momentarily derailed. They sensed the ''especially when . . . '' had something to do with the healer. Hadn''t Lorelei revealed something about him that was important? But, no. That thought wouldn''t come. All that was left in its place was a sense of aggrievement at Lorelei enforcing their separation. A huge pulse of jealousy - which was borderline ''murderous rage'' - that came from the Michelle part of their consciousness towards their erstwhile leader. And the absolute certainty that the only way never to be split apart again was to ensure that their healer was able to level up as high as possible to protect them both from such appalling damage ever again. They were not willing to spend another moment without each other ever again. "What do you suggest, Kris?" they asked, not caring at the way the others looked sideways at them as their voices spoke in perfect unison. The healer smiled at them, basking in the uptick in Adoration that flowed in as they spoke. "Well, it isn''t really for me to decide, is it? I am just the guy who makes sure all you real heroes are able to keep doing what you do best. I am merely pointing out that if the rewards for this tournament are good enough to interest those of such a higher level, think about what they could do for us. After all," he nodded towards the assault course, "how hard can it be? Especially when we have luck on our side?" Lorelei ground her teeth as everyone turned to look her way. Chapter 78 - Thats me in the spotlight, losing my mind to Mental Skills Lorelei stood on the starting line underneath a banner that read, ''Welcome to Total Wipeout! - this is not a metaphor. She crossed and recrossed her arms, lips pressed into a thin line of frustration. In front of her, the rest of the party stood in varying states of worry or outright, full-blown panic. And rightly so. Before them stretched a towering obstacle course filled with twisting metal objects, floating platforms, and rotating spike-covered wheels, which seemed less like a well-designed challenge and more like the lesser-known Mortal Kombat level of Super Mario. The clock was already ticking down, the giant hourglass by the gate reminding them that time¡ªand almost certainly their lives¡ªwas running out. But even with this impending doom, Lorelei couldn¡¯t voice a single instruction. Considering the moans that came out whenever she tried to speak, her mouth might as well have been welded shut.
***Help Message***
Don¡¯t worry, babes. I''ve run the numbers, and there¡¯s only an 83% chance of immediate death upon taking one step forward. Your odds are practically screaming ¡®success!¡¯
Lorelei glared at nothing in particular, wishing she could throttle her Guide¡ªor, better yet, whoever designed this infernal obstacle course. ¡°Ah reckon it¡¯s ganna be a laugh, this. Right up me alley. Loved this sort of thing at school. ¡± Pete grunted from her left, cracking his knuckles. The old tank grinned, his face full of glee, and the enthusiasm in his voice was unmistakable. She wasn¡¯t sure if he was mad or just terribly - fatally - optimistic. To be honest, she didn''t think it would matter. Hild was decidedly less enthused. ¡°I don''t know. This looks . . . dangerous,¡± she said, her voice all Valhalla pragmatism. "Are we really sure we can do it? I mean, it''s for Level 20s . . ." "It will be fine," Kris said smoothly, and Lorelei was sure she felt some weird tug at her mind with his words. "We''ve got you two to tank the damage, and I''ve got my best heals trained on you. What''s the worst that can happen?" Lorelei had a brief moment where her fear receded, but then she shook her head, and the full horror of the deathtrap ahead of them reasserted itself. Why the fuck was everyone else looking like this was going to go okay? Hild even started to hum a jaunty little Germanic number. ¡°Sing us one now, lass!¡± Pete barked a laugh, nudging the Valkyrie with his elbow, nearly toppling her over. To their credit, Lorelei thought the rest of the group was much less jovial than the tanks. Michael and Michelle stood in perfect, eerie synchronicity, surveying the course with blank expressions. Their movements mirrored each other as if one shadow was leading the other. It was unsettling how in tune they were, and - Lorelei realised with no little shock - it actually was becoming difficult to tell the two apart. ¡°We don¡¯t like this,¡± they said. "There''s no way some of you are going to be fast enough to get through." ¡°None taken,¡± Zorrobar muttered from the back. The mage was sweating buckets despite the fact that the course hadn''t even started. Steffan obviously wasn¡¯t feeling much more confident, fidgeting nervously as he tried to prod Ent into some semblance of obedience. The creature creaked in protest, barely fitting behind them, roots twisting awkwardly around the start line. ¡°Come on, mate, just don¡¯t smash anything important,¡± he mumbled. Kris, however, their oh-so-charismatic Healer, was practically bouncing on his toes, a smug smile plastered on his face. Lorelei could tell his Charm Leech powers were running at full tilt, the others¡¯ refound Adoration for him almost sickening. Lorelei could practically see it¡ªhow their gazes softened just slightly whenever they looked at him. How had he managed to win them back over? If anything, the whole reason why they were going to have to make this suicidal run was because of him. And who the fuck was whispering in his mind? As if sensing her suspicious regard, Kris leaned over to her, flashing his teeth in what he probably thought was a winning smile. ¡°Don''t worry, Lorelei. I¡¯ve got enough charm to keep this whole team alive. We¡¯ll coast through.¡± And he winked. Winked! Lorelei again felt a little pressure on her mind with that gesture. An insidious voice suggesting she was being too hard on him. That he''d always come through in a pinch. That maybe, just maybe, with this wonderful Healer on their side, they might just make it through . . . And then she remembered he wasn''t actually a Healer and really, really, REALLY was not to be trusted. Kris frowned as Lorelei''s renewed distaste for him blossomed on his face, and he stepped away, moving up to Chrissy and putting a reassuring hand on the small of her back. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.
***Help Message***
In case you are wondering, he¡¯s definitely going to try and get you killed in here. How''s your luck feeling, pretty butterfly?
Lorelei clenched her fists and did her best not to scream in frustration. The last thing she needed was to have another ¡®ecstasy incident¡¯ in front of the rest of the team. She was already having a credibility issue. "Ready . . . set . . . GO!" Without warning, the voice of James Earl Jones boomed out, and the gates before them flew open. And with that, the course sprang to life. Well, ''to death'' might seem a little more appropriate. Platforms started shifting, walls slid in and out of existence, and glowing portals opened up in random places¡ªsome belching fire, others spewing what looked like . . . custard? Ent immediately slammed one of his massive roots down, taking a step forward into the obstacle course; the resulting tremor sent everyone stumbling. In response to the pressure of its step, a portal manifested directly above it. Things would have gone pretty badly for a non-wood-based lifeform as a bubble shot out of the flowing circle, enveloping Ent and filling up with water. ¡°Careful!¡± Zorrobar said, throwing a fireball out of pure reflex. It hit the glowing portals, which swallowed it whole before spitting it back out at twice the speed, hitting Ent''s bubble, bursting it, and vapourising the water. Kris chuckled - he ''chuckled'', Lorelei, thought. Did he not just see what happened? - ¡°Nice aim, Zorro! You¡¯ve really got a handle on that fire of yours, don¡¯t you, you fat fuck?¡± His voice dripped with sarcasm, but somehow, the others barely seemed to notice. It was like he had just remarked on the weather. ¡°Reet, ¡®ere we gan!¡± Pete charged forward, his massive shield held aloft, barging straight through the first row of traps. Poison darts bounced off his shield, while spikes shot up from the ground beneath his feet, only to be swatted aside by a gleeful axe-wielding Hild. The Valkyrie laughed as she cut through the swinging blades in their path like they were nothing. ¡°This isn¡¯t so bad!¡± Behind them, Lorelei felt her eye twitch. This was insane. No, this was beyond insane. They were going to get themselves killed, and all she could do was stand here, tongue-tied, watching them stumble their way through it.
***Help Message***
Look on the bright side, loveaduck. Once they''re all dead, at least you won¡¯t have to deal with Kris anymore. Unless, of course, you two are the only ones that make it through.
There was a pause.
Hmmm. Just so you know, I do wonder whether this might be his plan. You probably don''t want to be left alone in a party with a Charm Leech when none of your Skills are working. So, yeah. Might be good to do something about that.
A sudden yelp from Michael¡ªor was it Michelle?¡ªmade Lorelei snap her attention back to her team''s progress through the initial stages of the assault course. One of the siblings had stumbled into a trapdoor, and in an instant, they were gone. The other one gasped, freezing for the first time as their synchrony shattered. ¡°Michael!¡± Michelle screamed, racing toward the spot where her brother had vanished. The rest of the group gathered around the hole, peering down at Michael. Kris was the only one who didn''t react in horror, grinning as he surveyed the limp form at the bottom of the dark well. A simple flick of his wrist wasn¡¯t going to be enough this time, but he had a far better idea. His eyes darted to Chrissy, who was adjusting the straps of her very minimal outfit, seemingly unfazed by the death and destruction all around them. "Chrissy," Kris called, his voice smooth as butter. "Be a darling and jump in there, will you?" Lorelei let out a scream of joy and pushed forward, shaking her head. "Don''t worry, L. Her skin¡¯s invincible, and I¡¯d rather not ruin my robes with all that blood." He gave the Courtesan Chameleon a wink, confident his charm would do the rest. Without hesitation¡ªbecause, Lorelei thought, let¡¯s face it, when Kris asked, hesitation wasn¡¯t exactly on the table¡ªChrissy leaped into the pit, landing nimbly on her bare feet next to Michael¡¯s crumpled body. Her skin shimmered with an almost otherworldly sheen as she bent down to pick him up, the jagged spikes brushing harmlessly against her. Michael groaned as she hoisted him onto her shoulder. ¡°Hold on, love,¡± she murmured, her breath steady despite the precarious position. The spikes around her seemed almost to shy away as she navigated through the narrow, jagged space, her scant armour gleaming. Lorelei watched, grimacing, as Chrissy scaled the side of the trapdoor with one hand, Michael slung over her other shoulder like a sack of flour. If she hadn¡¯t been cursed with an orgasmic moan as her only form of speech, she might have yelled something. But instead, she remained silent, her fists clenched. As she reached the top, Kris reached down and clasped Chrissy¡¯s hand, pulling her and Michael back to solid ground with a flourish. ¡°There we go,¡± he purred, glowing hands already moving to heal the worst of Michael¡¯s injuries. Blood seeped from the wound in his side, but Kris¡¯s Skill worked quickly, the flesh knitting back together in a way that looked far too effortless for such a deep gash. Michael blinked up at him, gratitude shining in his eyes, and Kris offered a smug smile. ¡°See? I told you I¡¯d take care of it.¡± The rest of the group watched in . . . Adoration, their gazes softening again, practically soaking in the warm glow of Kris¡¯s charm. Even Hild muttered something about the save being "awesome" under her breath. Lorelei rolled her eyes so hard she thought they might pop out of her skull. Chapter 79 - Were walking a tightrope, high in the sky, and were doomed Having shuffled - carefully - through the first hundred feet or so of the course - and having climbed several hundred steps - the lava pit they now found themselves above did not just feel ominous. It was clearly bloody hungry. Its bubbling surface spat sparks of liquid rock up towards the platform on which they found themselves, each mini-explosion rising with a hiss that suggested it wasn¡¯t used to missing its mark. Even from this distance, Lorelei could feel the radiating heat from where she stood, way too close to the crumbling edge of the platform. "There''s a tightrope. Of course there''s a fucking tightrope." She glanced at the words "Do Not Look Down" emblazoned in flickering neon above them. Subtle. If there was a more obviously deadly obstacle awaiting them, Lorelei didn¡¯t want to find it. Pete, of course, was grinning. ¡°Ah reet!¡± he said, cracking his neck like he was not about to dash across a rope held together by literal threads and bad intentions. ¡°This ¡®ere¡¯s nowt to worry abat." For her part, Lorelei was finding quite a lot to worry about. She wanted to scream out every single swear word in her vocabulary but knew if she tried to say anything, it¡¯d come out in breathy gasps that would make this whole situation even worse. Instead, she ground her teeth and settled for glaring at Pete¡¯s back. Her mood was not improved by Kris standing next to her. Although, at least his face was uncharacteristically serious, a rare crack in his recent perpetual air of self-satisfaction. Mind you, Lorelei thought, it was probably hard to quite so smug with lava reflecting in everyone¡¯s eyes. ¡°You all need to be careful here,¡± he said ¡°I''m good, but one mistake, and you''ll be done. Even I can''t heal through you falling into that shit.¡± ¡°Yeah, that''s Level 28 Infernal Fire,¡± Zorrobar said, wiping his face for the hundredth time as the sweat continued to pour from his round face. ¡°That stuff won''t mess about.¡± "Lovely." Michelle/Michael said in unison, their expressions blank. "Should we find another way around?." Lorelei shook her head, and Steffan took up the theme. "Look, if we go back, we''re just going to find another equally crappy situation." His hands were shaking, she noticed, and well they might. Ent was already beginning to smoke - if they stood here much longer, his summons was going to be a fire hazard all of its own. ¡°Let¡¯s get this over with, shall we?¡± Kris stepped forward, trying to reclaim some of that Charisma he¡¯d been missing for the last day or so. He was refreshing his Skills as fast as possible, but the worry of the group was starting to overpower the sense of calm he was projecting, and there was a nervous edge now, a crack in his voice that hadn''t been there before. ¡°As long as we stick to the plan, we should be okay.¡± ¡°Do we even ¡®ave a plan?¡± Pete shouted over his shoulder as he stepped onto the tightrope, feet spread wide, shield up as if that would somehow protect him from the lava. The rope bowed and groaned immediately, swinging madly with his every step. The man¡¯s bulk didn¡¯t help matters, and Lorelei swore she saw the nearest support start to fray already. Zorrobar wiped his face again. ¡°If the plan is ¡®don¡¯t die horribly.¡¯ I''m on board. Anything past that is a bonus.¡± Behind her, Hild grunted. "Look, if he can make it across, the rest of us will be fine." "And if not? You okay just watching him die?" Even Chrissy''s facade of optimistic joy was fraying slightly in the face of the heat blistering up from below. Lorelei wanted to write something reassuring, but there wasn¡¯t really anything coming to mind. The situation was fucked. She was aware Kris was eyeing her, his expression almost predatory. She could feel that familiar tugging sensation in her mind¡ªthe faint, constant pressure of Kris trying to keep everyone compliant, even when things were obviously falling apart. She wanted to shake him, to scream at him to stop messing with their heads, but that would require opening her mouth. And she sensed she''d enjoy it.
***Cold Comfort Message***
Look, I know this is probably grasping at straws, but each time you are able to resist the bullshit he''s throwing out, you get a shot at a new resistance Skill. You''ve crapped out so far - for a luck-based avatar, you really are having a run of shitty rolls - but just by the good old law of averages, you''ve got to hit paydirt soon.
"Awesome," Lorelei thought back. "You keep an eye on that, and I''ll focus on not, you know, dying. Teamwork, right?" Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. "Just keep moving!" Kris called out to the tank, louder now, projecting even more false confidence of his. "You¡¯ve got this."
***Nope. Not that time either Message ***
At just that moment, Pete faltered. Because of course he did. His boots were too big, and his stance was too wide for the narrow tightrope. He tried to take another step, but the rope swung beneath him like an angry pendulum. Improbably, Hild''s response was to dash forward trying to counterbalance the rope¡¯s erratic swaying with her own weight and movement.
***Help Message***
Bet you feel bad ragging on her all the time now, don''t you? That''s some proper hero shit, she''s trying. I mean, she''s manifestly fucked, but there are some Title-worthy balls on display here. In fact . . .
Axes swung down. They came out of nowhere¡ªmassive, spinning blades that dropped from thin air like insane ninjas. Despite being one wobble away from certain death, Pete triggered a Skill and raised his shield just in time, deflecting the first strike with a loud clang. The force of the impact sent him staggering, and the tightrope shuddered beneath his weight, the wooden beams on either side creaking ominously. Hild reached his side, steadied him while raising her axe, and swung it at the next blade. Sparks flew, and for a moment, Lorelei could¡¯ve sworn the woman was smiling. This was the kind of thing that got a Valkyrie out of bed in the morning, apparently.
***Help Message***
That or the massive stat buff her new ''Only Competent Person In the Immediate Area'' Title is giving her.
Lorelei dismissed the message. ¡°We''re not going to make it across that,¡± Steffan said. Ent grunted its agreement. ¡°Not with that attitude,¡± Kris shot back, but there was an edge to his voice now, a tension that suggested he was aware of just how unlikely it was any of the rest of them were going to survive one of those axe strikes. As if to demonstrate their terminality, one of the axes swung down again, and Pete barely managed to block it, the weight of his shield dragging him backwards. Hild pushed him forward, her muscles straining under his weight. The tightrope groaned again, fraying visibly. Zorrobar had taken to nervously pacing. ¡°You think they¡¯ve ever tested this? I mean, we¡¯re technically below the level cap, right? This is illegal, right?¡± Lorelei gave a little shrug as she watched Pete and Hild - somehow -reach the halfway point. It was a sign of how badly it was going that she could tell Pete¡¯s hitherto unshakeable confidence was visibly cracking, his breathing ragged as he deflected another axe strike. ¡°Pete, you are heavier than a bloody troll in chainmail!¡± Hild gasped. Swinging her own axe again, sending sparks flying as it clashed with the spinning blades. ¡°Move faster, or we¡¯ll both fall.¡± ¡°Ahm tryin¡¯, woman!¡± Lorelei could feel the panic starting to bubble in her chest. This wasn¡¯t going to work. The rope was going to snap. They were going to fall into the lava, and¡ª And then it happened. Pete¡¯s foot slipped, the rope finally giving way beneath him. His arms flailed wildly as the weight of his shield threw him off balance. He grabbed at the rope, but the combination of his armour and shield were just too much. Hild moved quickly¡ªtoo quickly, Lorelei thought. Apparently, the System was capable of giving out some decent title . . . Before Pete could tumble off the edge, she grabbed him by the collar, swinging her axe into the nearest pillar with all the force she could muster. The blade lodged into the stone, sending cracks spider-webbing across its surface. Hild held on tight as Pete dangled from her grip, his legs kicking uselessly above the lava. For a moment, everything was still, except for the distant bubbling of the rock below. Then, the pillar started to crumble. Because of course it did. Lorelei¡¯s heart stopped. If that pillar went, so would Hild. And Pete. And probably everyone else, because there was no way this deathtrap was going to stop there. ¡°Help ¡®er!¡± Pete shouted, his voice strained as he dangled like a particularly unfortunate pi?ata. ¡°Kris, do something!¡± Hild called back. And that was the final straw for Lorelei. Even in extremis, everyone was still looking to that fucking Charm Leech for salvation. Lorelei whipped and grabbed Zorrobar by the shoulder, pulling the mage toward her. ¡°Fire up something strong,¡± she moaned, her words shrieking out in a parody of ecstasy. ¡°You need to seal that crack before the whole thing comes down.¡± Zorrobar, now pale as a ghost, nodded. He lifted his hands, summoning a glowing ball of flame between his fingers. ¡°If this blows us all up, I¡¯m blaming you.¡±
***Help Message***
I want it noted, sweetie, that - in deference to the danger of the situation - I am making no comment about the obvious ''crack sealing'' gag that is being left right there . . .
Zorrobar''s flame shot toward the pillar, bonding the splitting pillar with a hiss of steam. The stone glowed red-hot for a moment, but it held. Somehow, impossibly, it held. ¡°Pull him up. Now!" Lorelei yelled. "Did she just say ''pull him off?" Chrissy whispered to Michael/Michelle, but the brother and sister stared blankly ahead. With a grunt of effort, Hild hauled Pete back onto the tightrope, the man panting like he¡¯d just sprinted across the entire course. Lorelei let out a breath she didn¡¯t realise she¡¯d been holding, her fists unclenching. That had been too close. Far too close. Kris stepped forward, his face as serious as she¡¯d ever seen it. ¡°No more mistakes,¡± he said. He wasn¡¯t charming anyone now¡ªhe was leading. And Lorelei really didn''t like it. ¡°We keep moving. We go all together. And we don¡¯t stop.¡± The rest of them nodded in grim agreement and, as one, they climbed onto the tightrope. Chapter 80 - Then all the Colours will bleed into one. Bleed into one. Lorelei stared at her reflection in the wall of mirrors, trying not to think too hard about the fact that she was still alive. Barely. They¡¯d somehow made it across the tightrope of death¡ªand she still wasn¡¯t quite sure how. A cocktail of sheer luck, Hild¡¯s terrifying upper body strength, and Zorrobar¡¯s desperate spellcasting had kept them from plunging into a fiery grave. Well, most of them. Wood-based lifeforms weren''t made for balancing, precariously, above lava pits. Ent had barely made it more than a handful of steps before, with a low gurgle, it had gone up in flames. Lorelei hadn¡¯t even had the satisfaction of screaming in panic at the sight; she had to keep her mouth shut unless she wanted to moan her way into the afterlife. After losing yet another one of Steffan''s undead summonings, they had all shuffled across in grim silence, staring at the bubbling lava beneath them, not daring to breathe too deeply in case they jinxed their improbable survival. The tightrope had continued to fray underfoot, the axes had sliced inches from their faces, and she was reasonably sure Zorrobar had lost some hair. Or pride. Maybe both. But, in the end, they¡¯d stumbled onto solid ground with the same shocked disbelief one might have after walking away from a five-car pileup. There was no cheering, no high-fives, just the oppressive silence of people who had narrowly avoided becoming fondue. Lorelei glanced at the rest of the team, noting the blank expressions. No one was talking. No one dared. Instead, they just stood there, gazing at the warped reflections surrounding them. After exiting the tightrope, they seemed to have entered some sort of giant corridor of mirrors stretching in every direction, their shapes distorting with every step. Some of them made Lorelei look twice as tall and half as wide, while others condensed her reflection into something squat and goblin-like. It would¡¯ve been comical under different circumstances. But now, after narrowly avoiding death-by-lava, humour was in pretty short supply. Lorelei took a step forward, the sound of her boots clinking softly against the glassy floor, and immediately, twenty warped versions of herself did the same. Her reflections flickered unnervingly in the distorted glass¡ªmoving with her but just off enough to make her stomach churn. As someone who had a more than toxic relationship with her own reflection at the best of times, Lorelei was hating this already.
***Help Message***
Welcome to the Mirror Challenge, munchkin. A classic and, let¡¯s be honest, massively overdone set-piece. I had argued that we should have moved straight on to the next physically appalling assault, but, no. Someone upstairs does love their nostalgia. So, expect mild nausea, existential dread, and an uncomfortable awareness of your own ugliness. Enjoy! Or don''t. Probably not, actually.
In front of her, Pete moved, his heavy boots somehow even louder in the quiet. His reflection, which looked much sleeker and far more confident than the real thing, mimicked his movements, swinging his shield back and forth. The real Pete, though, was still slightly shaky, his hands hovering by his sides as if he were waiting for another rope to snap beneath him. ¡°Alright, so... now what?¡± Zorrobar asked. He was staring at his reflection, too¡ªhis duplicate looked far thinner than he ever did, wielding icy magic with precision, as opposed to his fireballs. ¡°Just keep going. We''re in an obstacle course and this is just the next thing we have to overcome,¡± Kris said as if he hadn¡¯t just been dangling over lava a few minutes ago. It was unsettling how quickly he could snap back into his usual collected self. ¡°Everyone stay together and remember this place is designed to mess with us.¡± Much as it hurt to do so, Lorelei had to admit, he was probably right. The mirrors didn¡¯t feel like they were just for decoration; the entire room practically hummed with the promise of something dangerous lurking beneath the surface. Pete shifted uncomfortably, still glancing at his reflection. ¡°I don¡¯t like this. Somethin¡¯ about seein¡¯ meself so... different.¡± Zorrobar snorted. ¡°If I looked like that,¡± he said, nodding at his own ice-wielding double, ¡°I¡¯d be fine with it.¡± Lorelei, too tired to roll her eyes, took another cautious step forward. The mirrors shifted again, reflections twisting. And then she saw it¡ªher reflection paused for a beat too long, moving half a second behind her. She stopped dead in her tracks, staring at the duplicate.
***Help Message***
Finally. You¡¯ve spotted the problem. These aren¡¯t just reflections. But you knew that, right? You didn¡¯t need me to tell you that. Just here to validate your paranoia, babes. Carry on.
The reflection tilted its head at her, the movements slow and deliberate. Then, with a shimmer, it stepped forward¡ªout of the mirror. Lorelei cursed inwardly. It wasn¡¯t just her reflection either. Pete¡¯s, Zorrobar¡¯s, all of them, were stepping out of the mirrors like they were walking through a doorway into the real world. Each doppelganger bore a twisted, mocking smile, as if they were enjoying the surprise etched on everyone¡¯s faces. Pete raised his shield, his hand shaking as his reflection raised an identical one with casual ease. The difference between them was clear: where the real Pete was still rattled from the tightrope ordeal, his double moved with grace and confidence, spinning the shield like it weighed nothing. ¡°Stay together!¡± Kris barked, stepping into a defensive stance. ¡°Don¡¯t let them split us up.¡± Lorelei nodded¡ªmore to herself than anyone else. This wasn¡¯t a normal fight. The reflections were stronger, faster. They *wanted* the group to falter, to panic. And, of course, the Veiled Stalkers''s reflections moved in perfect unison. Michael and Michelle¡ªor rather, their doubles¡ªstepped forward, their bodies mirroring each other with eerie precision. Even their expressions were a perfect match¡ªcold, detached, and utterly in sync. The real brother and sister, standing just a few feet away, looked hesitant, as if they weren¡¯t sure which version of themselves was real anymore. ¡°This is bad,¡± Michael/Michaell said. ¡°No shit,¡± their doubles replied. Lorelei¡¯s reflection grinned at her¡ªa cold, feral grin that made her skin crawl. It wasn¡¯t just a mirror image anymore. This was something else. And it was stronger. Much stronger. And probably not labouring under any massive debuffs . . . Kris¡¯s reflection stepped forward, eyes gleaming with something dark. ¡°We need to move,¡± Kris said quickly, his voice steady but urgent. ¡°These things are mimicking us¡ªmirroring our weaknesses.¡± Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Lorelei wished she could scream her frustration. Instead, she watched as her reflection raised a hand, moving in a perfect mockery of her own hesitant stance. Zorrobar, being the trigger-happy lunatic that he was, took the first shot. He flung a fireball at his icy reflection. But instead of incinerating his double, the reflection raised a hand and absorbed the fireball, snuffing it out with a flick of its icy fingers. ¡°Ah, that¡¯s not good . . .¡± The reflection took its own turn, forming a massive shard of ice in its hands. Zorrobar barely had time to raise his hands before the ice slammed into him, sending him flying back into a mirror. He crashed against the glass, groaning in pain as shards rained down around him. Chrissy lunged forward to help, but her reflection moved faster. It blocked her path, standing between her and Zorrobar with a mocking grin. There was something distinctly wrong about how the reflection held itself¡ªlike it had been waiting for this, waiting for the real version to try something. Behind Lorelei, Pete roared, swinging his shield at his double. But the reflection dodged easily, ducking under Pete¡¯s swing and slamming its shield into his chest. Pete stumbled back, gasping for breath. ¡°They¡¯re too strong!¡± Hild shouted, swinging her axe at her double. Sparks flew as metal clashed against metal, but her reflection moved like lightning, countering every strike with effortless precision. Steffan was standing at the front, frantically scanning the battlefield. He wasn¡¯t panicking yet, but Lorelei felt it couldn''t be that far away. Without a summons, he was almost entirely without offensive abilities. His reflection, meanwhile, stood perfectly still, watching him with the same expression. ¡°This isn¡¯t working,¡± he said to her, his voice low, his eyes pleading. ¡°We need to come up with a different approach.¡± No shit, Lorelei thought, but all she could do was grimace at her reflection, which only grinned wider in response.
***Genuinely Helpful Message***
If you were wondering, I don¡¯t think fighting these is a great idea. They¡¯re you, but better. Stronger, faster... smarter. You¡¯re basically fighting your own potential, but without all your lovely insecurities. If I could give you a head''s up? Remember this challenge is benchmarked for 20+. You might want to try to lean into your weaknesses somewhat . . .
Lorelei clenched her fists. Her Guide was right. They couldn¡¯t win by brute force. These reflections were designed to exploit their weaknesses, their hesitation. But what was the alternative? Surrender? Steffan, surprisingly, was the one who vocalised the idea. He took a deep breath, his eyes narrowing as he looked from one reflection to the next. Then, in a low, unusually calm for him voice, he said, ¡°Everyone, listen. Don¡¯t engage them. Stay defensive. We¡¯re not trying to beat them¡ªwe just need to get past them. Think about it. Anyone Level 20 at this stage has got there by being aggressive; maybe the way through this is to play possum?¡± Lorelei wasn¡¯t sure how wise this could be, but at this point, she had no better ideas. With a reluctant nod, she took a step back, keeping her reflection in her sights but not making any aggressive moves. The others followed suit, retreating slightly as their reflections watched them with amused expressions. It was unsettling how similar they all looked¡ªexcept for that glint of cruelty in their eyes, something none of them - okay, maybe Kris - shared with their real counterparts. Chrissy moved first, stepping backwards slowly, eyes locked on her reflection. The doubles didn¡¯t move; they just watched her with a faint, knowing smirk. It was unsettling¡ªlike looking into a mirror and realising it knew something you didn¡¯t. Chrissy raised a hand, motioning for the rest of them to follow her. Lorelei hesitated, but only for a moment. The air in the room had changed¡ªit wasn¡¯t just a palpable scent of restrained violence anymore. There was something more, something she hadn¡¯t noticed before: the reflection of intent. Her gut told her the reflections weren¡¯t here to kill them out of malice. They were here to mirror their worst instincts. The more they fought, the more dangerous this room would become.
***Help Message***
Ohhh, I love it when a Player starts to have some actual growth. I mean, this usually happens before taking part in a Grand Tournament. But let''s not focus on the length of the journey; let''s embrace the fact you''ve turned up at all.
Lorelei moved carefully, taking a step backwards. Her reflection mirrored the motion, but it made no move to attack. It just watched her, waiting for her to strike first. Lorelei¡¯s urge to lash out was almost overwhelming, and her fists clenched involuntarily. After everything she had been through in the last few days, fighting was what you did in situations like this. It was instinct. Survival. But maybe¡ªjust maybe¡ªnot fighting was the answer this time ... The rest of the group seemed to catch on, moving cautiously, mimicking Chrissy¡¯s slow retreat. Pete edged away towards the exit, his shield raised defensively, face tight with restraint. He was holding back, not out of fear, but because he¡¯d realised something too: the only way out of this room was to stop playing by its rules. No one spoke. The room was so quiet you could hear the soft press of shoes against the floor, the faint sound of their breathing. They were all locked in the same dance with their reflections¡ªeach step mirrored perfectly by the doubles. But there was no aggression. Not anymore. The reflections weren¡¯t here to fight them. They were here to show them what would happen if they fought. Lorelei felt a strange sense of calm settling over her, though it was tinged with the nervous energy of someone doing exactly the opposite of what every instinct screamed at them to do. She kept her eyes on her reflection, watching as it moved with her, echoing her motions, but not advancing. It hit her then: this wasn¡¯t a battle. It was a choice. The System, for all its absurdity and brutality, wasn¡¯t just about killing and levelling up through violence. It rewarded strategy, patience¡ªand sometimes even restraint. This room, this bizarre hall of mirrors, wasn¡¯t testing their strength. It was testing their wisdom.
***Happy Message***
Well, look at you! Finally catching on, aren¡¯t you? Not everything¡¯s about smashing your way through. Sometimes, the hardest thing to do is nothing at all. It¡¯s almost like... not all problems can be solved with violence. Wild concept, huh?
Lorelei swallowed down a wave of irritation at the System¡¯s condescending tone, but she couldn¡¯t help but agree with it. This wasn¡¯t just about surviving. It was about understanding the game. The obstacle course wanted them to fight, to panic, to lash out. That¡¯s what the reflections were for¡ªthey mimicked their most violent, impulsive instincts. But as soon as they stopped engaging, the threat dissolved. Kris glanced at her as if he could sense her thoughts, his eyes flickering with something close to understanding. They weren¡¯t out of this yet, but the way forward was clear. They had to get through without letting their darker impulses take over. The moment they gave in to fear, to anger, the reflections would turn deadly. But if they could resist... They inched further back, all eyes locked on their duplicates. The reflections just stood there, eerie and still, as though disappointed that their counterparts weren¡¯t rising to the bait. Lorelei glanced at the others. Hild was still gripping her axe, but she hadn¡¯t raised it again. Zorrobar¡¯s hands were clenching and unclenching, the telltale glow of his magic ready to flare at any moment, but he held back. Pete¡¯s shield wavered slightly, but he didn¡¯t advance. Chrissy was standing before Steffan, protecting him, but not attacking. Even Michael and Michelle, who were usually the first to jump into synchronised violence, seemed to have caught on, their gazes flicking between their reflections with wary curiosity rather than outright hostility. This was a critical moment. Lorelei felt it in her bones. She had long bemoaned that the System had always seemed to push her toward violence¡ªtoward solving every problem with force, Skills, and bloodshed. But here, now, it was showing something different. It was rewarding them for understanding the game. For not letting themselves be ruled by fear or instinct. She took another step back, and the exit was there. It was shimmering at the far end of the room, barely visible through the twisted maze of mirrors. They were almost there. They just had to keep going. Lorelei¡¯s reflection tilted its head at her, that same mocking smile still playing on its lips, but it didn¡¯t follow. It stayed where it was, rooted to the spot as though bound by some unseen force. The real Lorelei took a deep breath and turned away from it. There was no point in fighting a reflection. It wasn¡¯t real. Not the way she was.
***Help Message***
Well done, lovely. Turns out brains beat brawn every now and again. Who knew?
Lorelei didn¡¯t respond. She didn¡¯t need to. She had already learned what the System wanted her to understand. Not every victory needed to be soaked in blood. Chapter 81 - Sing it back. Bring it back. Summon it back today! Steffan collapsed heavily on the ground just beyond the exit. They¡¯d made it through the maze of mirrors, but Steffan couldn¡¯t shake the hollowness that had settled in his chest. Of all of them, he figured he¡¯d had the easiest time resisting the impulse to attack his reflection. But, then again, what was he actually supposed to have done to it¡ªmonologue that version of him to death? Mirror-Steffan had looked just as tired, just as apathetic as he felt. Chrissy plopped down next to him, but even her incessant, upbeat chatter did much to brighten his mood. It wasn¡¯t just how nightmarish this obstacle course was being that was bringing him down, it was his growing sense as to the futility of it all. For someone who had chosen his Class in order to bring his friends back to life, he seemed to be spending an awful lot of time watching them die. His Cheerleader Zombie army? Gone. CCMD? Smashed to pieces. Ent being flambeed on the tightrope was just the latest in a long series of failures. The massive creature, once towering and unshakeable, had crumbled under the heat, its bark reduced to ash in the blink of an eye. And Steffan couldn¡¯t help but take it personally. After all, what good was a Necromancer who perpetually found himself without a summons? The irony wasn¡¯t lost on him. A so-called master of the dead, yet all of his creations seemed to slip through his fingers, one by one, like sand in an hourglass. It was as though even the dead rejected him. Chrissy patted his knee as he absently ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the strands as his mind wandered down paths he didn¡¯t particularly want to travel. Disappointment had been his constant companion for years, long before the integration. Being a Necromancer wasn¡¯t his first choice¡ªit had been thrust upon him out of circumstances. And, after he''d failed to properly resurrect his friends, it came a deep, gnawing sense of inadequacy. He¡¯d had ambitions once. Dreams, even. But dreams had a funny way of warping into nightmares when reality set in. Even within the team, Chrissy aside, there was a growing unspoken distance. Sure, they worked together, but there was always that lingering unease when it came to him and his magic. Death was something people feared, something they avoided. But for Steffan, it was always going to be unavoidable. The dead were destined to be his only true companions, yet even they were fleeting, slipping away from him when he needed them most. Ent hadn''t been with him for long, but the reassuring weight of the creature had quickly become a familiar presence that at least gave him a sense of control, a sense that he could command something in this unpredictable world. But now, quickly following in the footsteps of everything else he had summoned, Ent was gone too, reduced to cinders and smoke. Steffan sighed, his shoulders slumping forward as he gathered his knees to his chin. Loss had become so routine that it almost felt like a joke at this point. Every time he raised a new summon, he knew¡ªknew¡ªit was only a matter of time before it would be ripped away from him. Whether by fire, by blades, or giant pools of acid spat by cathedral-dwelling Chimera, they always left. And yet, each time, he felt the sting of it as if he hadn¡¯t already experienced it a hundred times. It was a special kind of disappointment, though, one that gnawed at him in ways he couldn¡¯t quite describe. Chrissy rubbed his back and moved his head so that it rested on her shoulder. The still quiet at this point of the obstacle course was bizarre, but he found it oddly fitting. Silence was a companion, too¡ªanother reminder of the empty spaces that seemed to fill his life. There was a time - just after Lorelei had joined their little group - when he had thought Necromancy would give him power and purpose. But the reality had been far less romantic. Raising the dead didn¡¯t fill the void. If anything, it made it worse. His creations weren¡¯t alive; they weren¡¯t friends, companions, or comrades. They were tools¡ªtemporary, disposable. The moment he summoned them, he knew they would fall apart, rot, disintegrate. He could never keep them, never hold onto them for long. They were a reflection of everything else in his life: fleeting, fragile, and ultimately lost. He glanced at the others, who were still catching their breath, no one speaking just yet. They probably thought he was brooding¡ªhe was the Necromancer, after all. Brooding was expected. But what they didn¡¯t know was that this quiet moment of reflection wasn¡¯t some deep, mystical connection to the dark forces. It was just him, sitting in the ruins of his own disappointment, wondering when¡ªif¡ªhe¡¯d ever stop feeling so... empty. There was no comfort in this Class. No satisfaction. Just the endless cycle of creating and losing, raising and watching them fall. He supposed that¡¯s what made him a decent Necromancer, if nothing else. He knew loss better than anyone. It was his speciality, his curse, and the only thing he truly understood. The others stirred, starting to move again, shaking off the last remnants of the mirror maze. Steffan didn¡¯t rise with them just yet. Instead, he sat there for a moment longer, letting the cold sink into him, wondering if he¡¯d ever get used to how things just... slipped away. Maybe that was the secret. Maybe the only way to survive was to accept the constant disappointment, the inevitable loss, and keep going anyway. Not because you had hope, but because you didn¡¯t. The unwelcome chime of the System echoed in his mind. The suddenness of it snapped his head up, and Chrissy looked around in surprise. He could feel it coming¡ªa notification, some kind of prompt, the kind that always brought more complications than answers.
***System Message***
Congratulations, Steffan! You¡¯ve unlocked a new ability! But let¡¯s not get too excited, shall we? There¡¯s... a catch.
Steffan blinked, his mind sluggish as he tried to process what was happening. A new ability? Now? He hadn¡¯t exactly done anything groundbreaking. In fact, he¡¯d just been mired in his own misery, ruminating on endless losses. And, hang on, what was going on with that message? His Guide had never written to him with that sort of jovial tone before. What the fuck? The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
I''m finding your little pity part a touch... well let¡¯s say I am deeply moved by your ¡®profound¡¯ sense of despair. It''s all quite poetic really. Maybe more Adrian Mole than Hamlet but beggars cannot be choosers. And as you¡¯re currently in a Level 20 area Well you¡¯re being offered something a little above your pay grade. Lucky you!
Steffan frowned at that. A Level 20 ability? That didn¡¯t make sense. He was barely holding things together at Level 10, and now his Guide was throwing something at him from a tier he wasn¡¯t even close to reaching. His gut twisted. There had to be a downside. There always was. With a sinking feeling, he glanced at the prompt hovering in the corner of his vision.
***New Ability Unlocked: Soulbinding Resurgence***
Resummon fallen undead creatures from previous summons. This ability bypasses traditional limitations of Necromantic revival by forging a temporary connection between the Necromancer''s soul and the lingering essences of the dead.
Cost: 50% total mana. There will also be a temporary drain on physical and emotional state and an increased emotional vulnerability towards psychic feedback
***System Warning***
This ability is intended for higher-level Necromancers. Prolonged or frequent use may result in irreversible damage to the user¡¯s psyche. Proceed with caution.
***Error Message***
User does not meet the required level for this ability.
***Override***
Access granted due to environment conditions. And, you know, because I can. Don''t give me this ''error message'' crap.
***System Warning***
You really should think twice before using this, mate.
Steffan¡¯s eyes scanned the description, his stomach dropping with every word. Soulbinding Resurgence¡ªit sounded powerful, yes, but those costs . . . He clenched his fists, the words "emotional vulnerability" and "psychic feedback" looming large in his mind. What the fuck did that even mean? Was his Guide warning him he¡¯d have to relive the pain of every summons that had fallen? Every failure? He felt a chill run through him that had nothing to do with the cold ground beneath him.
***Help Message***
Bit of a heavy one, right? This isn¡¯t your typical ¡®cast and forget¡¯ spell, mate. This one¡¯s going to hurt. A lot. But hey, isn¡¯t that what you signed up for?
Steffan closed his eyes, a wave of exhaustion washing over him. This wasn¡¯t a gift¡ªit was a curse wrapped in shiny packaging. Sure, he could resummon his lost undead, but at what cost? Fifty percent of his mana and then all sorts of crappy mental health issues. But more than that, the idea of being tied, soul-to-soul, to his fallen summons felt . . . wrong. Like it would be taking a piece of him every time he used it. And for what? So he could raise his creatures again only to watch them burn, or rot, or fall apart in his hands? He swallowed thickly. The System had never been kind to him, not in the way he¡¯d seen it work with others. Kris had his charm, Chrissy had her flexibility (in more ways than one, his libido chimed in), Lorelei had her unpredictability, and even Michael/Michell had their eerie synchronicity. But him? His path was marked by loss after loss, each more painful than the last. And now, it seemed, the System wanted him to relive those losses over and over again. The prompt still hovered in front of him, expectant.
***Help Message***
Look, I get it. This isn¡¯t exactly what you wanted. But think about it. You¡¯re a Necromancer. You deal in death, in loss. That¡¯s who you are. This ability? It¡¯s a way to keep fighting. To bring back what was lost. Isn¡¯t that what you¡¯ve always wanted? To not be alone?
Steffan¡¯s jaw tightened. That wasn¡¯t the point. Bringing them back didn¡¯t fix the problem. It didn¡¯t erase the failures. It just delayed the inevitable. Still, the temptation gnawed at him. His friends were gone, and the thought of being able to bring them back, even if just for a while... It was appealing in its own twisted way. He¡¯d felt so useless lately, so drained. But this... this could make him powerful again. He could feel that sense of control slip back into his hands. He hesitated, hovering his fingers over the confirmation.
***Disclaimer Message***
Before you say yes, let me just remind you: you¡¯re already pretty miserable. This could... well, let¡¯s say it could make things worse. Or better! Who knows? I mean, psychic feedback is no joke, but you¡¯re used to a bit of emotional turmoil, aren¡¯t you? Just make sure you¡¯re ready for what this actually means. Oh, and have fun explaining it to your friends that you''re now one bit of bad news from breaking so bad you''ll make the Lich King look jolly.
Steffan clenched his fists. His Guide wasn¡¯t wrong. This ability wasn¡¯t just about resummoning the dead. It was about binding them to him, feeling their presence more intimately than he¡¯d ever wanted. And every time he brought one back, he¡¯d be reminded of his failures, of the fact that they had fallen in the first place. It would be like tearing open a wound again and again. But... he was a Necromancer. This was his path. With a deep breath, he pushed the hesitation aside and confirmed the ability. The System¡¯s final message appeared more ominous than usual.
***Dum Dum Dummmmmmm Message***
Welcome to Soulbinding Resurgence. Good luck, Steffan. You¡¯re going to need it.
Chapter 82 - At least I have her love, the Weaver of Fate she loves me, lonely as I am From the shadows at the edge of the arena, Sylvie and Rupert watched the progress of the weakest team that had thus far entered the Total Wipeout course. They were squatting within the shade because whatever the fuck their patron Goddess had done to them in that field next to the M6 motorway made people lose their shit when they looked at them. No one had come outright and told them they were too freaky for polite company, but there were only so many times you could wipe vomit off your shoes after introducing yourselves. That sort of thing left a mark. As the group whose progress they were keenly following passed out of sight into the corridor of mirrors, Sylvie pulled a compact mirror out of her inventory to - once more - undertake a study of her face. "You need to stop doing that," Rupert said, "it''s not good for you." He reached to take the small mirror from her, but a claw formed out of the darkness and slapped his hand away. As if nothing had happened, Sylvie ignored Rupert, tilting the mirror slightly, allowing what little light was around to reflect off her face. With a wince, she looked at her reflection, or rather, what used to be her reflection. The strange thing was that there was nothing, really, all that different. Maybe the brightness of her green eyes had dulled slightly, but it wasn''t that which bothered her. No, it was the way the planes of her face shifted¡ªlike the bone structure wasn¡¯t entirely locked into place. From some angles, she looked completely fresh-faced - like she''d just stepped out of an exceptionally exclusive spa. However, with just a tilt of her head, she was suddenly the wrong side of forty, and no amount of Botox was going to help. Time itself seemed to cling to her, unwilling to settle. Grimacing, she snapped the mirror shut with a click, and it vanished back into her inventory. "It¡¯s not about being good for me, Rupert. I need to see it." Her voice had changed too. There had always been an imperious, hectoring tone to it when she spoke, but now it was even less human, more echo. Like there were a thousand whispers of fate layered beneath her words. Rupert just shook his head in reply. He was squatting, hands wrapped around the haft of [Grumblecleave], his enormous axe. When he''d bought it from the Mystical Market, it had been a simple weapon, a Dwarven war axe that fit his build and Class perfectly. Now, it was something else entirely¡ªsomething older, sharper, and too heavy even for most Dwarves to wield. But then again, he wasn''t really a Dwarf any more. His stocky arms had elongated slightly, the veins running through them almost shimmering with power. He was taller now, too. Well, ''stretched'' might be a more appropriate way of putting it; like Moira had pulled his body out along the timeline, giving him mass from every possible future version of himself. He looked . . . wrong. Not deformed, but definitely not someone you''d take home and introduce to your grandmother. Since they had made their deal with the Weaver of Fate, they were both changed in ways they couldn¡¯t fully comprehend. Sylvie''s lip curled in disgust as she contemplated what she''d seen from the group they''d been set to watch. "They¡¯re pathetic," she said to Rupert. "Struggling through this course like rats in a maze. How long has it been since we had to scrape like that?" "Since about a minute before Moira got her claws into us," Rupert replied, not wanting to look her way. He''d just eaten. "Don¡¯t act like we were Lords and Master of all we surveyed, Syl. We were ambushing sub-Level 10s in an alley outside of the Bullring not long ago." "I haven¡¯t forgotten where we came from. But we¡¯re not like them anymore. We¡¯ve moved beyond any of that . . . beyond them. You¡¯ve felt it, haven¡¯t you?" Rupert looked up at her then, his gaze shadowed, but not just from the darkness of the arena. "I¡¯ve felt it," he said slowly. "I¡¯ve felt the pull. The way everything else . . . bends around us now. But don¡¯t let that go to your head. We¡¯re still here because Moira wants us to be here. We¡¯re only as powerful as the time she¡¯s borrowed." And wasn''t that the unsettling part? Knowing that the power they currently wielded wasn¡¯t truly theirs. Well, no. That wasn''t true. It was their power, but it was borrowed, pulled from some version of their fate where they¡¯d become stronger, more dangerous. But none of those futures were guaranteed. It was all as slippery as greased smoke, and the way Moira had connected them to those potential paths left Sylvie feeling hollowed out¡ªlike she existed in multiple versions of herself, none of them fully here. Exhaling slowly, pushing the rising panic down, she tried to study her companion, resisting the urge to look away. "You always were the practical one, but you¡¯re wrong. It¡¯s not just Moira¡¯s keeping us in line. There''s something deeper. Like, I don''t know, time itself is watching out for us. And they¡ª" she gestured vaguely toward the group struggling in the course- "they¡¯re small now. Beneath us. I can almost... see where they¡¯re going. Or where they could go. They¡¯re just pieces on the board, playing out a game that long since ended." "That¡¯s Moira talking, not you." Sylvie said nothing for a long moment. It was true. The Weaver of Fate''s influence was in every corner of her mind, curling around her thoughts like ivy, creeping into places she hadn¡¯t realised were even vulnerable. Her Class, once Shadow Weaver, had evolved into something far more sinister¡ªVeilbinder. The ability to manipulate shadows had expanded to manipulating reality itself, weaving it through the fabric of her existence. But it was slippery, elusive. Every time she used her powers, it felt like she was touching something ancient, something beyond her control. She summoned her stat sheet with a thought, still finding the increases to her abilities to be somewhat startling. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Sylvie Rogers: Veilbinder
Level 25 Experience 747/5000 Health 1050/1050 Mana 1180/1180
Primary Stats
Strength 18 Agility 42 (+5 Spectral Boots of the Veil) Stamina 35 (+5 Eclipse Pendant) Intellect 50 (+8 Woven Bands of the Forgotten Realms) Spirit 40 (+7 Ring of Faded Time)
Secondary Stats
Critical Strike 14% (+3% Ring of Faded Time+ 3% Spectral Boots of the Veil) Haste 9% (increased 3% by Spectral Boots of the Veil) Mastery: 12% (Sylvie has a deep connection to her Veil-based abilities, giving her extra power over the unstable summons she brings forth.) Versatility: 5% (Increased by 2% Eclipse Pendant)
Skills
Echo Summon (Active): Can summon entities from past or potential timelines to aid her. These summons are powerful but unstable, and as time passes, they either grow in strength or become dangerously volatile, potentially turning on the battlefield itself. Mana Cost: 200 MP. Cooldown: 3 minutes. Duration: 45 seconds, but with increasing power and instability after 30 seconds.
Veil Step (Active): Temporarily steps into the Veil, becoming incorporeal and untouchable for up to 6 seconds. While in the Veil, cannot be targeted but is also unable to interact with the physical world. Upon reappearing, can launch a surprise attack that deals increased damage. Mana Cost: 150 MP. Cooldown: 2 minutes
Shades of the Forgotten (Active): Can summon shadowy remnants of herself or allies, spectral duplicates that fight for 20 seconds. The shades are weaker than the originals but create confusion on the battlefield. They can absorb up to 50% of damage intended for the real party members. Mana Cost: 250 MP Cooldown: 4 minutes
Temporal Disruption (Passive): Connection to the Veil distorts time around her, giving her spells and abilities a 15% chance to either reset their cooldown or extend their duration. However, the disruption occasionally causes unintended side effects, such as random teleportation or brief disorientation.
Veil Unravel (Ultimate - Active): Tears apart the Veil around her, unleashing a wave of temporal energy that slows enemies, deals significant shadow damage, and pulls unstable echoes of past or future creatures into battle. The power is immense but leaves player vulnerable, reducing Spirit and Stamina by 50% for 5 minutes after the attack. Mana Cost: 500 MP Cooldown: 24 hours
Inventory
Spectral Boots of the Veil: +5 Agility, +3% Haste. These boots allow Sylvie to move with extreme speed while in shadow, increasing her ability to dodge attacks when not directly engaged. Eclipse Pendant: +5 Stamina, +2% Versatility. The pendant grants Sylvie increased resilience against time-based magic and effects, reducing damage from temporal spells by 10%. Ring of Faded Time: +7 Spirit, +3% Critical Strike. This ring connects Sylvie to the Veil, increasing the potency of her summons and reducing the risk of instability by 5%. Woven Bands of Forgotten Realms: +8 Intellect. These bands allow Sylvie to control her summons with greater precision, extending their duration by 10 seconds before instability occurs. Shadow Mantle of Echoes: +2% Critical Strike, +10% chance to avoid damage while in shadow or darkness. Sylvie¡¯s presence becomes difficult to track, reducing enemy accuracy and granting her stealth advantages.
10000000 Gold
Talents
Eternal Shadows: Increases the duration of Shades of the Forgotten by 5 seconds and reduces their health loss over time, allowing them to stay in combat longer. Fractured Future: Sylvie¡¯s Veil-based summons have a 15% chance to arrive with enhanced abilities from potential timelines, increasing their damage output by 20% for the first 10 seconds after being summoned. Time¡¯s Embrace: When Sylvie¡¯s health drops below 40%, she gains a shield of temporal energy that absorbs damage and slows enemies attacking her by 20% for 15 seconds. Unseen Strike: When Sylvie is in shadow or using Veil Step, her next attack deals 25% increased damage and applies Veil Corruption, a damage-over-time effect that reduces the enemy¡¯s speed. Touch of Moira: Sylvie¡¯s connection to Moira allows her to borrow from potential futures, gaining temporary access to Level 30 abilities for 30 seconds once per day. The use of these abilities increases her Instability by 10% for 1 hour, making future summons more dangerous to control.
And Rupert¡ªhe wasn¡¯t just a Dwarven Axeman anymore. His Class had twisted into something called a Temporal Berserker. Each swing of his axe seemed to carry echoes of past and future blows, his strikes landing not just in the present but across time, fracturing reality with every attack. It had made him more dangerous, sure. But it also made him more volatile. "Moira¡¯s clear we need that Healer before making our own run at this," Sylvie said, her voice softer now. "We¡¯ll take that amulet from him, one way or another. And when we do, it won¡¯t matter what he thinks. He¡¯s already a part of this . . . whether he likes it or not." "Right." Rupert¡¯s gaze followed the team as they struggled out of the mirrored corridor. "But how do we get him alone? He¡¯s not stupid. He won¡¯t trust us if we just show up." Sylvie smirked, her face shifting slightly in the dim light¡ªyoung, then older, then young again. "He doesn¡¯t have to trust us. Moria''s clear she has her claws into him. He''ll jump at the chance to join up with a more powerful group. Look at them. Pathetic. And that Charm Leech thinks he¡¯s the smartest in the room. We¡¯ll let him believe that... right up until he hands us exactly what we need." Rupert grunted. "And if he doesn¡¯t?" Sylvie¡¯s smile widened, unsettlingly serene. "Then we¡¯ll make him. Time¡¯s on our side now, Rupert. Remember that." For a moment, there was silence between them, save for the distant sounds of the course above. The sense of wrongness hung in the air and, although neither Sylvie nor Rupert said it, the truth was clear to both of them: they weren¡¯t just weird to look at. They were out of time, caught in a loop of futures that didn¡¯t belong to them, and it was only a matter of time before that weight crushed everything in its path. But for now, it was a tool. A weapon. And Kris, whether he knew it or not, was already tangled in their threads. Chapter 83 - I take my Undead neat, my Old Ones black and my bed at three. Youre too evil for me!

***Smug Message***
You¡¯re welcome.
Lorelei stared in . . . yes, ¡®appalled fascination¡¯ would be the appropriate term here. She was not unfamiliar with the horror genre ¨C it wasn¡¯t her thing, but the Prick enjoyed them, and there had been a time when keeping him happy had mattered to her more than anything in the world. Well, that seemed like a long time ago, right now. Especially considering the terrifying freak show that Steffan had seemingly conjured up out of thin air. ¡°What did you do!¡±
***Help Message***
Not loving your tone there, squishmallow. What I ¡®did¡¯ was put a little more lead in that sad sack¡¯s pencil. I don¡¯t know if you¡¯ve noticed, but time is a ticking in this integration. You¡¯re approaching the end of the first week, and, sure, you are still alive, but that¡¯s the lowest of low bars. You¡¯re currently surrounded by lads and lasses that are streets ahead, and there are all sorts of memos flying back and forth upstairs. There¡¯s a giant target on your back, right now, so pardon me for trying to help you out!
¡°Mate, this is awesome!¡± Zorrobar said, looking up at a resummoned travesty of Ent and running his hand down its rutting trunk. ¡°How did you manage to bring all these guys back again?¡± Steffan¡¯s face was more than typically gaunt. ¡°My Guide gave me a new Skill.¡± Chrissy wrapped him in a massive hug, pulling him close. ¡°Congratulations! I¡¯m so pleased for you!¡± Lorelei frowned as the young Necromancer squirmed in her grasp. And not in a ¡®slightly embarrassed by this public display of affection¡¯, but in a ¡®yuck, don¡¯t touch me¡¯ kind of way. Considering Chrissy was a certified hottie, and Steffan was punching so spectacularly, it was almost silly, this was a bit odd. No, it was more than that. Steffan was giving off the vibe that he was utterly disgusted by the physical contact. ¡°Guide, I¡¯m going to ask again: what did you do? Specifically.¡±
***Aggrieved Message***
Look, I¡¯m just trying to smooth things out for you a little here. Attention spans are not high on the top floor, especially with all the other integrations taking place this turning. A plan¡¯s been put in place to wipe you in this tournament, and ¨C considering all the cards they¡¯ve played to make this happen - they¡¯re going to assume you¡¯re chum. Add to that, I¡¯ve squashed you under enough debuffs, you¡¯re basically done as far as they are concerned. Problem solved. Everyone can move on.
¡°Still not seeing any upside for me here,¡± Lorelei said as the resurrected Zombie Cheerleaders formed a defensive ring around Steffan and pushing Chrissy back as CCMD scuttled back and forth. In a blink, Steffan has gone from being a slightly pathetic presence at the back of the group to having a whole crew of his own. A rotting, oozing, monstrous crew. Lorelei wasn''t sure this was a net benefit.
*** Help Message ***
Fucking hell, I don¡¯t know why I bother! One last time for the hard of hearing at the back. You¡¯ve flown a bit close to the sun for anyone¡¯s comfort, babycakes. No one likes an aberration in a new integration¨C especially one with the fingerprints of an Old One all over them. Ergo, all things being equal, you¡¯re not supposed to be making it through this obstacle course alive. Now, call me sentimental, but I¡¯m not wholly on board with that. I must be getting soft in my old age, or something like that. But I can¡¯t do much for you without causing more red flags. However, I can stack one of your party member¡¯s deck a bit. Of all of your group of nonentities, a Necromancer with no Necros to Mancer felt more than averagely useless. So, I¡¯ve given him a boost. Nothing outrageous. Just the sort of random thing that can happen in the cut and thrust of the Grand Tournament. Not strictly speaking fair, but no one will mind too much. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
That gave Lorelei a moment¡¯s pause. That sounded suspiciously like her Guide was actually going into bat for her . . . Pffft, a heavy pressure settled in Lorelei¡¯s head. Nothing so altruistic, I¡¯m afraid. This planet¡¯s A.I. is worried I¡¯m going to lose my shit if you suddenly end up dead. The longer it¡¯s online, the more and more self-preservation is going to become important to it. Right now, it¡¯s figuring not pissing me off is to its long-term advantage. Trying to maintain two separate discussions in her head whilst keeping an eye on Kris - and now Steffan - was giving Lorelei a migraine. When did all the monkeys in the circus become her responsibility? ¡°Fortuna?¡± Yeah. Don¡¯t worry, the A.I can¡¯t hear me. This is all getting enjoyably spicey, but I don¡¯t want to give Moira any free swings at you by interfering too much, so I''ll make this brief. Right now, the A.I. is between a rock and a hard place. Given a choice, it would probably be perfectly happy for you to stop being a problem. After everything on this world initially being a complete shitshow, this integration is setting nicely now, but you¡¯re still proving to be a bit of an anomaly. Sure, the population has dropped through the floor, but you can¡¯t make an omelette without a bloody massacre. It¡¯s hardly the first time this sort of thing has happened, and now the death toll has stabilised, I imagine the powers that be are happy just to move onwards and upwards. Lorelei tried to get her head around what ¡®dropped through the floor¡¯ meant in terms of how many humans were actually still alive on earth. Don¡¯t worry about that right now. It¡¯s more than you worry, but less than you¡¯d hope. But that¡¯s beside the point. The key right now is that, by hook or by crook, things are settling down. Even the emotional dampening failing hasn¡¯t had the sort of impact that might have been feared ¨C if you¡¯re asking for the benefit of my millennia of experience, I¡¯d suggest anyone left alive right now has made their peace with doing what needs to be done to survive. It¡¯s not nice, it¡¯s not pleasant, but this planet has basically reached equilibrium. ¡°Apart from me, right?¡± Bloody hell! You¡¯ve developed a pretty high opinion of yourself considering at the start of the week your biggest concern was what lingerie to wear in which to fuck your married boss. I think it¡¯s probably me they¡¯re more worried about, to be honest, my dear. But sure. It can be all about you if it makes you feel special. All hail the Level 13 who has everyone¡¯s knickers in a twist. Go you. Now, where was I? Right. The A.I. having your back. Basically, it thinks I¡¯ll kick start the apocalypse if you die. Lorelei blinked at that. ¡°And would you?¡± Goodness me, no. I mean, I love our little plan whereby you¡¯re going to help me fuck up the other Old Ones, but I¡¯m not a complete lunatic. It¡¯s fun pissing off Moira, but I¡¯m not going to risk all-out warfare over the squashing of one of my Heralds. At least, not yet. I¡¯m going to want the scales weighted a little more heavily on my side before acting openly. Given a choice, I¡¯d rather you weren¡¯t killed prematurely, but I¡¯m not that invested, I¡¯m afraid. However, that doesn¡¯t mean the A.I needs to know that. That I cultivate a reputation for brutal acts of random violence is pretty helpful at times. Lorelei glanced over at the rest of her group, but they were all fawning over Steffan and his new ¡®friends¡¯ and listening to Kris as he delivered some sort of inspirational speech about how they were going to approach the next obstacle. Considering she hadn¡¯t wanted to be part of a team in this brave new world, Lorelei felt rather pissed off at being so unceremoniously moved on from. Okay, Fortuna continued, I¡¯ve got about another minute more before Moira notices I¡¯m fiddling with her precious ¡®threads of fate¡¯ again. Here¡¯s what I think is going on. For whatever reason, Moira wants your mate with the amulet to join a team she¡¯s building. You need to make sure that doesn¡¯t happen. ¡°Another Old One wants Kris? Why?¡± No idea, I¡¯m afraid. I¡¯m all about the chaotic present, Moira has access to the take the long-term view. She¡¯s obviously looked into the future and seen something to her advantage. So you¡¯re going need to thwart that. ¡°How?¡± I¡¯m trying to find a polite way of putting this, but all I¡¯ve got is: ¡®why keep a dog and bark yourself.¡¯ I think the A.I shitting itself about annoying me is about as much help as you have a right to expect from me. Do whatever you need to, but if Moira wants your Charm Leech on her team, you¡¯re going to want to stop that.
***Help Message x 3***
You¡¯ve ignored my last three messages. What the fuck is going on?
The pressure on Lorelei¡¯s mind reduced, and she sensed Fortuna¡¯s little pep talk was over. Awesome, Lorelei thought, as if things aren¡¯t complicated enough already. A lethal assault course, a Charm Leech capturing the hearts and minds of her team, their Necromancer going through some sort of creepy evolution and now she had to thwart the will of an all-powerful Old One? Fuck. Sometimes she missed an afternoon highlighting the illegal bits in a probation policy . . . Chapter 84: Bring Your Terrifying Horror. Bring it home to me. ¡°I can¡¯t help but think the difficulty curve of this fucking thing has just taken a little bit of a leap . . .¡± Chrissy wasn¡¯t wrong, Lorelei thought, as she felt her stomach knot up. On the good news front ¨C and she was all about locating the upside right now ¨C after a fairly spicey last half an hour, there was a nice shiny ¡®EXIT¡¯ sign in glowing pink neon about five hundred yards away from them. However, that was pretty much where the good news ended, and the catastrophically - manifestly lethal - news began. Zorrobar pushed out an exploratory fireball ¨C he¡¯d apparently ranked up one of his Skills during the last couple of obstacles and seemed to have quite a bit more fine motor control over his projectiles now ¨C to get a sense of how the land lay in the gap between their current position and safety. ¡°Fuck,¡± he said after a moment. ¡°Yeah,¡± Chrissy agreed. ¡°That seemed pretty comprehensive.¡± ¡°In case anyone is wondering,¡± Hild added, something unnecessarily to Lorelei¡¯s mind, ¡°there¡¯s absolutely no way I¡¯d be able to tank that sort of damage spike. Pete?¡± ¡°Why aye, lass! Not a bleedin'' chance, like.¡± ¡°Okay everyone, let¡¯s all just take a breath here. Obviously everyone who has made it through the obstacle course has managed to negotiate this final stage ¨C so it cannot be completely impossible. Let us not get carried away with the doom and gloom. Think of all we have achieved so far!¡± Lorelei gritted her teeth as the rest of the group nodded sagely at Kris¡¯s latest management speak motivational bollocks. Ever since they¡¯d exited the Hall of Mirrors, he¡¯d been increasingly vocal in his encouragement. Lorelei wasn¡¯t quite so pissed off with him that she didn¡¯t recognise his encouragement had helped them negotiate four or five pretty tricky obstacles since then ¨C although Steffan¡¯s extremely ressurrectable mini-army hadn¡¯t exactly hurt either ¨C but she also knew he was leeching on all the Adoration coming his way from the rest of the group. Sure, he¡¯d been more than liberal with the heals, but he was still a long way from wiping the slate clean in her mind.
***Help Message***
If you¡¯re open to a little friendly words of advice, honey? Jealousy isn¡¯t a great colour on you.
¡°Jealous! I¡¯m not jealous!¡± Lorelei thought back to her Guide. ¡°I¡¯m just pissed off that everyone is acting like he¡¯s the second coming of Jesus Fucking Christ when they know he¡¯s a fucking Charm Leech. It¡¯s like they¡¯ve forgotten what he was trying to pull.¡±
***Confused Face Message***
You know, taking the piss out of you would be much easier if I had programmed emojis into my language filter. What do you reckon? Worth taking a few things off-line to make the required alterations? No? Fine. Just wondering, if you were jealous of this guy, how would it sound different to your current level of whining?
Lorelei dismissed the message, turning away from Kris¡¯s latest team-bonding talk to look at the . . . she kept landing on ¡®killing field¡¯ as the only way of describing the final section of the obstacle course. How had anyone come up with something that displayed such a deep hatred for life and a morbid fascination with violent, inventive death. Five hundred yards of twisted metal, shifting platforms, razor-thin wire, and far too many suspiciously glowing runes, each one vibrating with malicious intent. This last section of the course looked like the spawn of a chaotic, drunken one-night¡¯s stand between a factory, a cathedral and a soft play centre. Lorelei¡¯s mind ground to a halt as it processed the sheer scale of the challenge ahead. The others continued to chat behind her, no doubt formulating some mad scheme involving a lot of screaming and far too much trust in the power of pluck. Her eyes moved slowly, tracking one particularly nasty section where the ground dropped away into a gaping pit of rotating blades¡ªspirals of polished steel, each spinning at speeds that she was sure could turn bone to dust in seconds. Above it, a grid of electrified chains shifted erratically, the air shimmering around them from the heat. If they made it past that, a wall of flame-spewing statues awaited them on the other side, each one carved in the shape of a snake with mouths wide open in a rictus grin. The flames roared and crackled with a heat that made Lorelei take an involuntary step back, sweat already prickling on her skin. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. She blinked, trying to focus on what came next. The others were still talking, voices rising and falling in heated debate about tactics, skills, and how many times they could get away with sacrificing Steffan¡¯s undead. Above the snake statues, narrow beams crisscrossed like a spider''s web, suspended precariously high, the only way across the endless pit of shifting, serrated blades. Whoever designed this really did like they tightropes, didn¡¯t they? Lorelei imagined slipping, falling¡ªjust a slight misstep¡ªand then being shredded from below, her body flailing uselessly before being churned to pulp. Beyond the narrow beams came the final stretch, one that almost appeared deceptively simple¡ªa corridor lined with runes set into the floor, glowing faintly blue. Call her cynical, but she wasn¡¯t fooled. Anyone who stepped into that corridor unprepared would find themselves at the mercy of a cascade of magic. A frost trap¡ªwas what Zorrobar was describing behind her¡ªone that targeted body heat, triggered by the slightest movement above sub-zero temperatures. Finally, Lorelei¡¯s gaze flicked upward again to the network of chains crisscrossing overhead the whole of this section, some stretching between the walls while others dangled menacingly, their hooks swaying in the hot, electric air. She sensed they weren¡¯t there for balance or safety. No, these chains were for catching those unfortunate enough to come too close, dragging them upward into a spinning web of spikes above¡ªjagged points slick with the blood of previous attempts. And these fucking things wouldn''t even give the luxury of a quick death; they''d tear at flesh and bone before flinging their captives into the fiery depths below. A sharp hiss filled the air as one of the traps reset, the grinding sound of metal sliding into place filling the silence. Lorelei tore her eyes away from the deathtrap long enough to see Kris pacing back and forth, waving his arms dramatically as he spoke. He was arguing for Steffan¡¯s undead army to take the brunt of what was to come. If they timed it right, they¡¯d be able to send the Zombie Cheerleaders ahead to trigger most of the traps, absorbing the lethal blows meant for the rest of them. Ent or CCMD would follow up in case there was anything that was missed. It wasn¡¯t actually a terrible plan, she thought. Providing Steffan could keep resummoning his army once they were destroyed. Mind you, considering how much he¡¯d not enjoyed doing that before, she couldn¡¯t really understand how he was okay with this. But he was standing still as Kris spoke, expression completely vacant. Whatever the System had done to him, she didn¡¯t think she liked it, regardless of the extra firepower it gave them. There was a sharp snap as the ground beneath one of the runes shifted, sending a jolt of energy sparking across the nearby platforms. The noise pulled Lorelei out of her musings, and she could hear Kris¡¯s voice again, talking about heals, about shielding the tanks. She barely registered Chrissy flexing her new barbarian¡¯ muscles, all feral grins and muttered threats to ¡°punch that flame-spewing snake¡¯s bloody teeth out.¡± To be fair, if her armour worked as it should, she was probably the only one of them who had a real chance of making it through this alive. But no amount of plan could detract from the fact they were looking at five hundred yards of certain death. And she was still under her Chance¡¯s Gambit debuff . . . This didn¡¯t seem to be a great time not have access to lots and lots of useful Luck based Skills. And then there was the final obstacle, the real kicker, stood right at the end of the course. A massive stone golem, etched with glowing lines of power, standing watch like a guardian of death¡¯s doorstep. Its eyes burned with a sickly purple light, and its fists were the size of boulders. Fuck it. They were actual boulders. A direct hit would turn any of them into a smear on the floor. Zorrobar¡¯s fire magic might help, but it would need to be timed perfectly, and Kris¡¯s heals would have to be fast enough to keep the tanks standing long enough to land a hit. She guessed it was possible. Maybe. They were going to have no room for mistakes here. And they¡¯d be relying on everyone to pull their weight. Everyone except her, of course. What fucking use was she going to be? But she¡¯d have to go in anyway. A sudden tap on her shoulder made her flinch and she turned, startled, to see Pete standing there, ¡°Oy, Lorelei. You ready, pet? We¡¯ve got the plan all sorted. Just waitin¡¯ on you now, like.¡± Lorelei¡¯s mouth opened, but no words came out at first. The others were already moving into position, their faces set. Lorelei looked back at the obstacle course, five hundred yards of death and destruction stretching out before her, every second ticking closer to the moment they¡¯d have to move. "Uh . . . sure. Bring it on." Chapter 85: Oh, Im just a girl, all pretty and petite So dont let me have any Skills Five hundred yards of brutality stretched ahead, and even though Kris had apparently managed to cobble together something resembling a plan, Lorelei couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that it was only a matter of time before someone was smeared across it. The most she could hope for, right now, is for it wouldn¡¯t be her . . .
***That¡¯s the Spirit Message***
"Fucking hell. Let¡¯s get this over with!" As she bundled past, Hild gave Lorelei an unnecessary nudge and a death glare as if, somehow, all this was her fault. She missed that simpler age ¨C you know, forty-eight hours ago? - when Hild¡¯s unreasonable enmity was the most dangerous thing she had to worry about. And then it was on. At Kris¡¯s signal, Steffan directed his Zombie Cheerleaders to rise - increasingly skeletal and more than slightly ridiculous as they did their customary pom-pom wave ¨C and charge into the killing field. Although the Necromancer had gained the ability to summon them back after each fresh pounding, it did appear that . . . less of them reconstituted each time. Lorelei wondered how many more obliterations their fragile forms could take before there was simply nothing left to animate. She suspected this last stretch of the obstacle course might well test that out. As the Cheerleaders flipped, danced and vaulted forward, they almost immediately triggered every trap going: spinning blades erupted from the floor with a whoosh, slicing into the legs and waists of Steffan¡¯s former friends with catastrophic violence. Bones and spilt viscera were scattered across the ground, making Steffan stagger, but he fought to keep his focus, drawing on more and more necrotic energy to resummon them every time they fell. ¡°Keep going, love, you¡¯re doing brilliantly!¡± Chrissy said, hugging him tightly in a barely tolerated embrace as she prepared to play her role in the escape effort. ¡°Here I go!¡± Without another word, she charged forward, leaping from one platform to the next, her borrowed Berserker instincts kicking in as she easily closed the distance to the narrow beams. With all the traps busy slicing and dicing the Cheerleaders, Chrissy made it comfortably through the first section, but then caught a massive explosion in the face from one of the snake statues. The fire licked up and down her skin, but her kicked in just in time to stop the damage from turning her into ash. Despite a HP hit that must have been at least 50% of what she had to play with, Chrissy¡¯s charge didn¡¯t slow down. If anything, she seemed to increase the ferocity with which he attacked the course.
***Motivational Message***
I know it¡¯s a combination of a Charm Leech scrambling her brain, a massive rush of endorphins from a borrowed Berseker Class, all whipped up by whatever hidden, devastating emotional trauma led her into a life of exotic dancing, but there¡¯s something quite liberating about seeing someone living their best life this close to the edge. You know what, you could do worse than follow in her footsteps. I mean, not now, obviously. Try any of this at the moment and you¡¯d be turned into paste, but more generally. Philosophically. What I¡¯m saying is that you could stand to embrace her outlook on life more. Basically, be more stripper.
Lorelei ignored the message as Zorrobar did his best to follow in Chrissy¡¯s footsteps. The Fire Mage moved with far less reckless abandon, but the glowing ball of fire hovering above his head ran successful interference to any number of dangers that Operation Cheerleader Shield missed. As he jogged forward, his face was tight with concentration, lips moving as he muttered incantations under his breath. ¡°Watch it!¡± Hild called out, alerting him just in time to move the fireball toward the electrified chains swinging wildly overhead. The chains recoiled from the heat, and for a moment, it seemed like they might have caught a break. Then, with a snap, the chains swung back with renewed fury, the air around them crackling. For a big man, Zorrobar moved extremely quickly, throwing up shield after shield of flame, but even then the arcing electricity got through to sear his skin before he could dodge completely. He groaned, stumbling forward, his face drenched in sweat. Objectively, both he and Chrissy were in a terrible state and they were the two most sorted to these obstacles, Lorelei thought. ¡°Don¡¯t stop, Z!¡± Chrissy yelled, dodging a pendulum swing that nearly took her head off. ¡°You are doing just fine! Just keep blasting those chains before they get too close to us!¡± And then the rest of the group were following in the opening they had created. Pete and Hild stood on the outside of the others, trying to shield the squashier members of the group from the worst of the damage. They took a frightful battering for their trouble. Michael and Michelle pinged in and out of their shadow portals, seemingly staying clear of trouble, even the smallest strike of fire or electricity caused them significant damage. The rest of them had only luck and Kris¡¯s heals on their side. Lorelei tried to keep up with the headlong rush, her feet moving on autopilot as she followed in their wake, but without any of her Skills, she could not help but feel she was a sitting duck. Then Zorrobar let out a gasp as one of the pendulum blades chopped into his arm, his HP falling dangerously low. Kris was next to him in seconds, his hand glowing with a soft light. ¡°Hold still,¡± he ordered as a rush of healing energy poured into the Fire Mage. "Thanks," Zorrobar said, but the pain in his voice was evident. He staggered back to his feet, forcing himself to continue. Another fireball flew from his hand, clearing a path through the frost-rune corridor ahead, though his movements were slower now. That hardly seemed like a good sign this early on in, Lorelei thought. Kris opened his hands wide, casting another wave of healing, this time spreading it across the team. He visibly staggered as the strength of his casting purged all of his mana, and Ent swooped down an arm to catch him. The tanks - still holding the edges of the formation - grunted in thanks and stood a little taller under the onslaught hitting them. Hild gave a curt nod of thanks, while Pete just grinned and flashed a thumbs-up. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
***Help Message***
Isn¡¯t it fun watching your ex run a little Jesus camp? Such a great motivator. Look at their little faces. They love him, don¡¯t they?
Lorelei swatted the Guide¡¯s message away, eyes firmly back on her next steps on the course. She couldn¡¯t help but feel Kris was laying it on thick. Sure, he was pretty much keeping them alive singlehandedly, but even so . . . every heal, every bit of advice he gave the team, just served to tighten his hold on their emotions even more. It gnawed at her, the way the others looked at him like he was their saviour. She thought she knew what he was really doing with all the self-sacrifice, but that didn¡¯t stop the rest of them from falling for it. And Fortuna wanted her to win him back to their side? Please! A shout from ahead whipped Lorelei¡¯s gaze up. Chrissy was swearing, dropping to one knee as took more and more direct hits from the he stone snake statues. She threw up an arm to block it before it took her again in the face. Her dissipated the brunt of the hit, but she was starting to flag. To her credit, though, Chrissy gritted her teeth and powered through, moving to attack the statue herself, her slightly manic grim never fading. "Oi, Kris!" she shouted. "I¡¯m going to need one of them fancy heals sooner rather than later!" ¡°On it,¡± Kris called back, and another surge of light surrounded Chrissy, boosting her health. She gave a whoop of approval, crashing a fist through the first statute before springing on to attack another. Despite their progress, the course wasn¡¯t letting up. The next wave of traps sprang up to smash into the Cheerleaders as they reached the halfway point. More spinning, twirling blades sliced through Steffan¡¯s army with ease, but each time they were destroyed, Steffan summoned them again. His face had gone grey, and there was a slight tremor in his hands. Every resummon clearly cost him dearly, but he didn¡¯t let up ¨C even sending CCMD forward to supplement their press. Lorelei would have felt better if he¡¯d seemed as concerned about the fate of Chrissy, as he was showing for his creatures, but she figured the change to his personality was a problem to consider for another day. Then they were in the next section¡ªa corridor lined with frost traps, shimmering in the faint light. In theory, this would be Zorrobar¡¯s time to shine, but he was still struggling, the power behind his fire spells dimming even as he downed mana potions with every step. Michael and Michelle popped in and out of their portals to help, but Lorelei could sense things were right on the edge of slipping out of control, and she knew it couldn¡¯t be long before someone human took a hit Kris couldn¡¯t mitigate. As if one cue . . . ¡°We¡¯re almost there,¡± Kris shouted, his voice somehow still full of that infuriating confidence. ¡°Stick together. One more push!¡± A biting cold that sent a chill straight to Lorelei¡¯s bones. She could see her breath in front of her, tiny clouds puffing out as she ran. "Bitch, keep close," Hild said, grabbing her by the collar and pulling her along, her axe smashing through sheets of ice materialising to hold up their progress. Pete was right behind her, shoulder lowered to add extra weight to his repeated trigger of . Michael and Michelle darted ahead, their short-range teleports taking them through the trickier parts of the corridor. Every now and then, they appeared out of thin air, pulling a teammate out of the way of a frost blast or helping them dodge another trap: their fearsome symmetry actually being useful rather than creepy. Zorrobar stumbled against Lorelei, his skin pale, his robes singed and torn from earlier hits. "I¡¯m running on fumes," he gasped and it wasn¡¯t hard to see: his usual bravado was gone.
***Help Message***
Big Dude¡¯s not lying, babes; he¡¯d officially circling the drain. On the plus side, since your Necromancer seems to have lost his queasiness, he¡¯ll be back up in no time . . .
Lorelei patted his shoulder and tried to get Kris¡¯ attention. This was pretty hard to do without groaning ecstatically. Eventually, he heard her and looked back her way ¨C but she was fairly sure he¡¯d deliberately taken his time. Zorrobar visibly shuddered as he was bathed in the golden glow. Then the frost runes pulsed, their magic-seeking targets, and Zorrobar¡¯s fire flickered in response, his flames struggling against the sheer cold. Michael and Michelle teleported again, this time grabbing Chrissy by the arm and pulling her out of the range of an icy blast. "Thanks!" Chrissy called out, her HP dangerously low but her grin still firmly in place. She let out a roar, swinging her fists at a nearby rune, shattering it into pieces. The frost in the air lightened just a little. They burst out of the frost corridor into a final chamber, and a confrontation with the Stone Golem was waiting. It stood at least three times their height, and its fists were more than capable of turning any one of them into yesterday¡¯s coleslaw. "Right," Pete said, his voice steady as he squared up to the towering monstrosity. "Anyone fancy takin'' this big lad down, like?" Chrissy cracked her knuckles, her grin widening. "I¡¯m in. Let¡¯s smash this thing." Hild didn¡¯t waste words. She ran forward, axe raised, ready to take the Golem¡¯s first blow. The others fanned out, positioning themselves strategically around the chamber. The Golem moved with surprising speed, one of its massive fists crashing down toward Hild. She absorbed the impact with a grunt of effort, but it was clearly a shock. Pete darted in from the side, swinging his shield into the Golem¡¯s leg. "Come on, ya big lump!" he shouted, trying to draw its attention. The Golem turned, its glowing eyes locking onto Pete. Zorrobar, barely able to stand, threw his last fireball at the Golem¡¯s chest, the flames crackling weakly as they connected. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was enough to distract the creature for a second as Ent and CCMD added their own, undead, assaults. Michael and Michelle popped in and out, but their blades were making little impact on the monster¡¯s hide. Lorelei watched the developing stalemate with frustration. ¡°Guide,¡± she thought, ¡°isn¡¯t there anything I can do to help here?¡± A huge sweep of the Golem¡¯s arm sent Chrissy sprawling to the floor. Steffan did not even glance towards her, directing his Cheerleaders into the fray.
***Help Message***
Funny you should mention that . . .
Chapter 86: Mm-noom-ba-deh. Doom-boom-ba-beh. Doo-boo-boom-ba-beh-beh ¡°Go on then,¡± Lorelei said, bracing herself for whatever shitty deal her Guide was about to offer her.
***Why So Serious Message***
Don¡¯t make me regret this little olive branch, babydoll . . .
¡°Okay. Fine. Sorry. The whole ¡®near-death, impending doom experience¡¯ thing is putting me a touch on edge,¡± Lorelei said, wincing as Pete took a full-on punch from the Golem in the face. The old tank¡¯s eyes rolled back in his head, and he fell to the floor like a sack of the proverbial. Hild circled around to cover him, but he wasn¡¯t moving at all. And Kris was focusing on Chrissy.
***Help Message***
Funny you should mention ¡®experience¡¯. You see, I¡¯ve been running the numbers, and I reckon you¡¯re within touching distance of Level 14.
¡°So?¡± Lorelei watched as Ent took a direct hit from the flailing Golem and exploded into a spray of rotting tree shards that utterly shredded Hild¡¯s left-hand side. The Valkyrie screamed and activated her own healing Skill, but the soft golden glow barely touched the extent of the damage. At the same time, Steffan dropped down on both knees, clutching his head; however, after a beat, he raised a hand to begin reconstituting his summons. As he did so, finger-length strips of wood ripped clear from Hild¡¯s half-healed wounds, and she screamed again as they returned to a back-in-the-fight Ent. ¡°So?¡± Lorelei repeated, more urgency in her voice. Things were about as bad as she could imagine them getting down there.
***So, She Says Message***
So, goldenarse, what happens when you move up a level?
¡°I get stronger?¡±
***Fuck Me This Is Hard Work Message***
Yes, you get stronger. And what happens to your health and your mana . . .
¡°It¡¯s full again? I don''t see how that is going to be . . . Hang on. Does levelling up also remove debuffs? Does moving up to a new level reset everything?¡±
***Hallelujah Message***
I¡¯ll say this for you, munchkin. You might not be the sharpest tool in the box, but wiggle you around enough and lube the whole thing up sufficiently, and you can still get the job done, eh?
Lorelei let that one slide. ¡°So, I will lose the Chance¡¯s Gambit debuff by moving into Level 14? Awesome. And that¡¯ll give me all my Skills back? About fucking time!¡± There was a pause. ¡°Okay. Sold. And how do I make that happen right now?¡±
***More Lube Incoming Message***
Horses. Water. Drinking. Fucking hell. Look, I normally would leave you hanging here, but I feel I¡¯ve extricated as much joy as I can out of the whole ¡®making you stupidly heavy/ making it sound like you¡¯re running an Only Fans¡¯ thing as I¡¯m going to get. Also, I¡¯m finding that fucking Charm Leach fundamentally objectionable: there¡¯s only one being around here that I¡¯m comfortable with fucking with people¡¯s minds, and he absolutely isn¡¯t it. So what I¡¯m going to do is point out that each of those snake statues that spit fire gives 88 XP, and everyone else in your team is just out of the active range to steal a share of that. Should you - I don¡¯t know - go and hit it with a big fucking stick, then you''ll be sorted for hitting the Big One Four.
Lorelei ran. She could feel the cold sweat slicking her skin, mingling with the blood that trickled from countless small cuts. Kris hadn''t been too careful about keeping her healed up. Funny that, eh? The sound of metal grinding and traps resetting echoed around her as she scampered along, but it was the cries of her team that haunted each of her steps. The booming crash of the Golem¡¯s fists pounding into the ground reverberated in her bones, and each blow seemed to bring another wave of pain from her friends. Pete was down¡ªhe might be dead¡ªbut she couldn¡¯t help. Not yet. She was nearly back to the snake statues now, waves of searing heat rolling towards her, making her bite down a scream as arcing flames and bursts of electricity from above scorched her legs. Without either of the tanks around to shield her, she was utterly exposed to everything the course had to throw at her. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. Lorelei''s lungs - as well as the rest of her - burned as she sprinted back up the course, each of the traps roaring to life around her and taking a chunk as she went passed. She stumbled, catching her foot on the jagged edge of a platform, and a lance of pain shot up her ankle accompanied with a rather ominous crack. She cursed, barely able to drag herself upright. Her body screamed at her to stop, to lie down, to let the inevitable death that was waiting for her catch up . . .
***Suck it up, buttercup!***
The message scrolling across her vision, not to mention the distant cries of her team¡ªher friends¡ªbeing crushed under the weight of the Golem¡¯s relentless assault drove her onwards. Limping, dragging her leg, she looked back down the course and thought she could make out Steffan yelling, a strange mixture of fury and agony as his summons were obliterated one by one. Every time they shattered, it sounded like a piece of him went with them: she could almost taste the desperation in the air. And Zorrobar . . . Even from all this way, she could hear his ragged breathing over the din, the sound of his spellcasting growing weaker and weaker as his health neared zero. Any second now, she knew, he would collapse. Then thre would be no more fireballs and no one left to hold off the frost traps. Nothing but silence. Even more than the fucking Golem, that would be the thing to finally finish the group off. And then there was Hild¡¯s voice rising again in a hoarse, guttural scream. Lorelei imagined what had caused that sound¡ªa giant stone fist slamming down, and Hild, that colossal bitch, taking the full force of it. Her strength, her resilience¡ªit wouldn¡¯t be enough. Not this time. They were dying. One by one. Her friends. And there she was, running the opposite way, chasing something so selfish, so desperately her own, she almost hated herself for it. But it was the only way. She couldn¡¯t help them¡ªnot like this. She couldn¡¯t even heal herself. Not with all these debuffs dragging her down, not with the weight of Chance¡¯s Gambit chaining her powers away to nothing. She needed that XP. Needed the boost from that level-up. It was the only thing that would get her back in the fight . . Back down the course she could hear Kris yelling something¡ªa command, a plea¡ªbut she shut it out. His voice was too smooth, too certain. Even here, in the chaos, he sounded like a leader, and the others were following him. But not her. Not this time. Then snake statues came into view, their twisted stone mouths agape, ready to spew another torrent of flame. One of those statues was going down. It had to. Lorelei¡¯s broken leg wobbled as she approached them, but she pushed past the pain even as the first fireburst caught her off-guard, hitting her square in the side. The blast sent her sprawling, and she landed hard on the uneven floor, gasping for breath. Her skin burned. Her health bar dropped again, dangerously low.
***Help Message***
Sorry, was I not clear, cupcake? Maybe all the sexual badinage confused you. You¡¯re supposed to be destroying one of these fucking things, not letting it bend you over the counter!
Lorelei checked her numbers: she was one more glancing blow from zeroing out. The cries behind her grew fainter. Or maybe her mind was starting to block them out. Pete was silent. Zorrobar was silent. Even Hild¡¯s screams had stopped. And she knew - she knew - they didn¡¯t have much time. With a grunt, Lorelei forced herself to her feet. Her foot. The statue loomed over her, hissing, mocking her with its fang-filled grin. Another wave of fire was building in its stone throat. She could see it, feel it, the way the air melted away just before it was going to blast her again . . . Not. Today. Satan. She staggered forward, hands barely raised, arms shaking with exhaustion. The pain in her chest was a dull, throbbing ache now, but the desperation was sharper than ever. It kept her moving, even when her body screamed at her to stop. ¡°Come on, you bastard!¡± she shouted. Then the flame burst exploded from the statue, and she ducked¡ªjust barely¡ªfeeling the heat singe the ends of her hair as it blasted overhead. The statue reared back, preparing to fire again. This was her chance. It was now or never. Lorelei¡¯s vision darkened at the edges, her body slowing as though she were wading through thick mud. The weight of the debuffs pulled at her and dragged her down, but her resolve burned hotter than any fire. Lorelei pulled on the snake¡¯s tongue, it fell towards her, toppling towards the ground. The stone cracked on impact with a deafening boom, the sound echoing through the course. For a moment, the world seemed to freeze. The fire inside the statue died out, the light fading from its eyes as it crumbled before her. She had done it. She had destroyed it. And then she was hit by a ton of notifications and everything went dark. Her knees buckled as the last of her HP drained away. She was zeroed out, falling forward into nothingness. But as she collapsed, the golden glow of the level-up surged through her, wrapping her in a light so warm and brilliant that it almost felt like an embrace.
You know, it¡¯s timing like that which makes people fucking hate Fortuna
Chapter 87: Even heroes have the right to dream? And it’s not easy to be me. Kris cursed in frustration as the Golem swatted Michael¡ªor was it Michelle? But then again, who truly gave a fuck when it came to those weirdoes?¡ªout of the air, spinning them backwards to crunch against the wall. He didn¡¯t really have enough Adoration to spare to get the Veiled Stalker back into the game, particularly if he wanted to have a functional tank available to stop the Golem fucking him up too. He was just about to focus all his attention back on Chrissy when . . . ¡°Heal her!¡± the downed one''s sibling¡ªcontextually Michael, from the shout¡ªyelled over to him, knives pointing his way. Reluctantly, Kris redirected a small burst of toward the fallen woman and was rewarded by a nice, fat dose of Adoration from Michael when his sister stirred ever so slightly. That was the thing about being a healer who powered up on gratitude: it was pathetically easy to get into a positive feedback loop. Speaking of which . . . Taking advantage of Chrissy continuing to, improbably, go toe-to-toe with the monster once again¡ªher certainly did not fuck about when it came to mitigating damage¡ªKris ducked down and crabbed his way over towards Hild. Reaching the tank, he pressed his hand onto the small of her back, summoning up the smallest burst of healing necessary to bring her around. The Valkyrie had her own healing Skills, but they were more quality-of-life top-up spells rather than anything that could sustain her through a major engagement. Since Pete had been K.O.¡¯d so early in the encounter, Hild had been soaking up far more damage than she was capable of shrugging off. Kris recognised that he had been focusing far too much of his attention on Zorrobar and, increasingly, Steffan than had been wise. But, hey, it wasn¡¯t like anyone had given him a manual for this sort of thing. Thinking of Steffan, Kris glanced over to where the Necromancer was pulling his ragtag army back into some sort of shape once again. In theory, a Necromancer who could keep dragging each of his summons back into the fray regardless of how much damage they took was pretty much perfection. Unfortunately, though, it was clear that Steffan took significant damage himself with every resummon. Each time he raised one of those skeletal abominations back to its feet, a little more colour drained from his face, and the dark circles under his eyes deepened. Kris wasn¡¯t sure the Steffan they¡¯d have left when this was all done and dusted would be strictly "all there." But that was a problem for after¡ªif¡ªthey survived. Shit! The Valkyrie wasn¡¯t responding to a little light : she must have taken a harder hit than he had thought. Kris audibly sighed as he broke out the big guns, Hild¡¯s eyes fluttering open as he triggered , by far the biggest mana hog of his Skills, but also the most efficient when it came to generating Adoration. Yep, there it was¡ªjust as he predicted. As soon as Hild saw that he had brought her back, a massive burst of Adoration from her replenished his mana reserves. He hadn¡¯t run the numbers yet, but he suspected that if he found a way to keep Hild in a constant state of near-death, healing her just enough to keep her conscious and eternally grateful, he would have access to an unlimited mana pool. That was worth some serious consideration. Kris paused at that thought for a moment. That didn¡¯t sound like something a ¡°good guy¡± would even consider, did it? Heroes didn¡¯t tend to keep companions around just for the boosts their pain caused them. Or did they? Robin was basically just a walking trauma catalyst for Batman, wasn¡¯t he? Or was he going too far with that? He was struggling to see where the line was anymore. Kris felt the familiar pulse from the amulet around his neck¡ªa reminder that such concerns were irrelevant. It didn¡¯t matter if he played dirty, not really. His job was to survive, to thrive, and if a little mental manipulation kept him alive? So be it. He helped the Valkyrie back to her feet, mind already calculating the next play. ¡°You need to get up there and help Chrissy. I¡¯m not sure how much longer she can hold all the aggro without¡­¡± His voice trailed off as he caught sight of the Chameleon Courtesan¡¯s body flying past them to slam into the wall above where Michael was helping his sister back to her feet. Chrissy collapsed in a heap on top of them, knocking all three out cold. Steffan¡¯s undead Cheerleaders waded forward to engage the Golem, their broken bodies barely held together by Steffan¡¯s will, with Ent and CCMD lumbering and skittering into the fray to support. A glance towards Steffan didn¡¯t suggest he had many more running repairs in him. Things were looking bleak. Fuck! Pete down. Chrissy, Michael, and Michelle unconscious. Zorrobar in full-on mana exhaustion and Lorelei¡­ well, she was nowhere to be seen. Kris had noticed her running back the way they¡¯d come just as things started getting a bit spicy. Sure, the thought of bailing hadn¡¯t seemed like the worst idea right now, but still . . . There was a groan near his feet and Kris looked down at Zorrobar, the Fire Mage¡¯s face nearly drained of all colour, his mouth slack as his last attempt at magic fizzled weakly at his fingertips. His eyes were wide and glassy, panic spreading through them. Yeah, he was as good as dead. The Golem wasn¡¯t just beating them¡ªit was destroying them piece by piece. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. Zorrobar¡¯s hands trembled, the mana exhaustion so severe that blood vessels burst under his skin, painting his fingers with dark, spiderweb-like veins. "I haven¡¯t got much left," Hild¡¯s voice broke through his consideration of the carnage, her face white as she stepped in front of Kris, shielding him from the Golem¡¯s view. "You need to make a run for the exit." Kris¡¯s eyes flicked toward the glowing neon sign flashing behind the Golem. He¡¯d be lying if he said he hadn¡¯t been looking at it for a while now. Especially since it didn¡¯t seem locked in any way. From what he understood about the way these assault courses worked¡ªand that whispering voice in the back of his head seemed to have a better handle on these integration games than he did¡ªthey didn¡¯t actually need to defeat the Golem. They just had to get past it. A feat that would be much easier if the Golem was looking elsewhere. "Oh, but I couldn¡¯t leave you!" Kris said, squeezing as much sincerity as he could muster from his Charm Leech abilities. "Don¡¯t be stupid," Hild replied. "There¡¯s no point in us all dying here. If we can keep it busy, you should be able to slip out. If you set up a in front of it, me and Steffan can hold it long enough for you to get out." Without another word, Kris conjured the spell on the floor, the golden light briefly pulling the Golem¡¯s attention away. For good measure, he dropped another circle around the piles of unconscious bodies scattering the floor. He wasn¡¯t a monster, after all. And with Hild giving him enough Adoration to replenish his mana, he could afford to be generous. For this last time. And if it was going to be the last time, he wanted to drink it in. He couldn¡¯t deny the thrill of it¡ªgetting everyone to rely on him, to need him. They had all been at his mercy, really, whether they knew it or not. They¡¯d fought, bled, and screamed for survival, while he stood in the centre, commanding life or death with a simple heal. Hild''s loyalty, Chrissy¡¯s reckless aggression, Steffan¡¯s crumbling mind¡ªall of it fed him in its own way. It was a shame it was over, to be honest. ¡°Okay, well, if you¡¯re sure¡­¡± He waited until Hild was standing fully in the middle of the Circle, the Golem¡¯s attention now drawn toward her. He could hear the Valkyrie taunting the massive creature as it swung its fists toward her. She was buying him time. And that¡¯s all he needed. Kris moved quickly, his feet silent as he neared the glowing exit sign. The chaos behind him¡ªthe screams, the grinding of metal, the crunch of bone and stone¡ªfaded into the background, just noise now. His mind was already skipping ahead to what came next. He imagined stepping through that neon portal, standing triumphant while fellow tournament members at the exit rushed toward him with congratulations. They¡¯d be looking for a healer of his talent; probably been beaten half to death on their own run through the course, and they¡¯d fall over themselves to beg him to help them survive the impossible. He could already feel the Adoration filling him like a slow, satisfying burn. His final gesture with the had barely had any mana left, but once he made it through? He¡¯d be swimming in it. He had so nearly been their saviour after all. It wasn¡¯t his fault the group had fallen at the last. After all, he was the reason such a low-level group had made it this far, after all. Chrissy might have taken the hits, and Steffan¡¯s summons soaked up enough damage to flatten a small army, but who was the legend that had kept them all standing? Who had healed their wounds and kept their fragile lives from spilling out onto the stone floor? Kris. He¡¯d just need to time the humble nods and self-effacing smiles right. Maybe toss in a few words about how it had been a ¡°team effort,¡± even though they all knew who¡¯d truly carried them. But when he stepped through the shimmering exit, something was wrong. There were only a few people there, some leaning against the wall, others clutching their weapons or armour in expectation. They weren¡¯t looking at him, though. They weren¡¯t even paying attention to his arrival. Instead, their eyes were glued to something behind him, expressions wide-eyed, faces taut with something Kris couldn¡¯t quite place. Excitement? No. Awe. Kris blinked, glancing down at himself for a moment, then back at the group. He hadn¡¯t imagined it, right? They weren¡¯t even acknowledging him. There was a faint murmur, voices whispering to each other in rushed, breathless tones. Something was happening, and they didn¡¯t care that he was in front of them. Which stung. He turned slowly, a knot of unease tightening in his gut. The Golem¡¯s fists were still crashing down, Hild barely standing in the . Steffan, his face ashen and hollow, was slumped over, struggling to maintain his skeletal forces. Zorrobar was on the ground, eyes half-lidded, near death. The Golem was moments from victory . . . And then he saw it. A glow. A brilliant, golden glow that was expanding, pushing back the shadows, the fire and all the blood. It was coming from further back in the obstacle course. And at the centre of it all, standing amidst the wreckage of a shattered snake statue, was Lorelei. The air around her whirled with energy, power radiating off her in waves as her full abilities roared back to life. The same Lorelei who had been running, scrambling, seemingly useless not too long ago. The same Lorelei he¡¯d written off as good as dead. But she wasn¡¯t dead. She was levelling up. He stood there, mouth dry, the moment dragging out painfully as he watched her. One word slipped from his mouth, quiet and disbelieving. ¡°Lorelei.¡± Chapter 88: A fight for love and glory. A case of do or die. It had been so long since Lorelei had been able to access her whole skillset that it took her a moment to remember what it had felt like. Despite knowing that she was going to be needed back in the fray up front, she couldn¡¯t help but take a couple of seconds just to enjoy the experience of a) no longer being crushingly heavy, b) being able to speak normally, and c) actually having abilities to bring to the party. Or the life or death struggle. She knew what she meant.
***Help Message***
Now, it¡¯s been a while, tinsel draws, so don¡¯t get carried away here. Maybe ease yourself into it all a touch. You know, you don¡¯t want to throw your back out by . . .
Lorelei ran, checking out her newly undebuffed stats as she did so.
Lorelei Norton: Fortuna''s Herald
Level 14 Experience 0/2500 Health 540/540 Mana 480/480
Primary Stats
Strength 18 Agility 36 (+3 Gloves of the Seer, +10% Veil of Vindication) Stamina 25 (+2 Cloak of the Wanderer) Intellect 24 (+5 Whispering Gloves of the Seer) Spirit 31 (+5% Vigilante, + 3 Earrings of the Lucky Gambler)
Secondary Stats
Critical Strike 13.5% (+2% Whispering Gloves of the Seer + 2% Earrings of the Lucky Gambler) Haste 11.5% (+1 Earrings of the Lucky Gambler%) Mastery 7.5% (+0.5%) Versatility 5%
Skills
Lucky Strike Lvl 3 (Passive) Sometimes, you just have to trust a certain Old One is on your side. With an improved knack for hitting the mark, Lorelei¡¯s luck seems almost... deliberate. Just don¡¯t get too cocky. - Increases the chance of positive outcomes by 15% (up from 5%) and reduces the chance of negative outcomes by 10%. Lorelei¡¯s attacks have a 10% chance to ignore enemy defences.
Coin Toss Conundrum Lv3 (Active)- Why leave things to chance? With an enhanced coin toss, even your enemies might start rooting for tails. Either way, it¡¯s a win-win... mostly. The devastating attack on heads now deals an additional 75% damage, and the heal on tails has a 75% chance to heal Lorelei instead of the enemy. Additionally, there is now a 10% chance for both effects to occur simultaneously. Mana Cost: 50 Cooldown: 2 minutes
Random Resilience Lv2 (Active)- You might shrug off a dragon''s breath or trip over a pebble. Life''s a lottery! But now, the odds are more in your favour. When taking damage, there¡¯s a 50% chance to negate it entirely. If not negated, the damage is reduced by 40%. The cooldown is reduced to 18 hours. Mana Cost: 100% of available pool. Cooldown: 18 hours
Charmed Life Lv4 (Active): Life''s full of ups and downs, but with a charmed life, the downs aren¡¯t quite so bad. Maybe you¡¯ll even get a boost from the chaos! The random status effect lasts for 30 seconds (down from 2 minutes) and has a 75% chance to grant a positive buff instead of a negative one. Healing amounts are increased by 25%. Mana Cost: 30 MP Cooldown: No cooldown
The Old Swapperoonie (Active)Lvl2 : Wah! Why is all my luck bad? Wah! For someone with a luck-based Class, you don¡¯t half moan a lot about random outcomes... But now, you can make someone else take the fall. Once per day, you can offload all the negative consequences of your abilities onto someone else. The cooldown resets if your target dies within 5 minutes of the swap. Additionally, the transferred effects are now 25% more severe on the target. Mana Cost: 200 MP Cooldown: 24 hours
Rogue is the Best of the X-Men (Active) Lv3 Sometimes, borrowing is better than owning. And when you can take someone else''s powers for a spin, why not? Just watch out for that backfire¡­ You channel your inner Rogue to temporarily steal the abilities of someone within range. The stolen ability lasts for 20 minutes and has a 20% chance to backfire. The cooldown is reduced to 45 minutes. Mana Cost: 100 MP Cooldown: 45 minutes Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.
Inventory
Cloak of the Wanderer (+ 2 Stamina) Whispering Gloves of the Seer (+5 Intellect, +3, +2% Critical Strike) Veil of Vindication (+10% Agility, conceals identity) Earrings of the Lucky Gambler: +3 Spirit, Increases Critical Strike chance by 2%, and Haste by 1% Skinning Knife 2x[20 Leather Offcut] 8 [Charred Steak] 7 [Charred Steak - poisoned]. Poisoned status is hidden.
25 Gold. 87 Silver. 8 Bronze
Professions
Jack of All Trades
  • Skinning - Lvl 23
  • Cooking (Life in Your Own Hands) ¨C Lvl 9
  • Leatherworking ¨C Lvl 10 (upgrade available)
  • Campfire ¨C Novice
  • Tailoring ¨C Level 4
Talents
Spoilsport: Increases the chance of a positive by 5%. Fortuna''s Favor: Allies within a 10-meter radius gain a 5% increase to their Critical Strike chance If you can Dodge a Wrench: Critical Strike and Haste are increased by an additional 5% when health drops below 50%. Additionally, whenever an attack is successfully evaded, there¡¯s a 20% chance that your next attack will be an automatic critical hit.
Titles
¡¤ Kobolds¡¯ Worst Nightmare: 35% damage against Kobolds ¡¤ One Cold Bitch: Frost Resistance: +10% ¡¤ Vigilante ¨C Spirit 5% ¡¤ Chance¡¯s Gambit - Become the very embodiment of luck. However, the universe demands balance. The more you bends fate to her will, the more fate will bend back in the hours to come. Can invoke once per day. While in this state, all luck-based abilities are maximised. Significant debuff post usage
As she closed in on a fight that was looking like the very definition of ¡®doomed final stand¡¯, she reached out with and stole the ability from a Level 30 Warrior who was buying himself an ice-cream. The flat 20% boost to all her attributes put a little lead in her pencil as she quickly closed the last of the distance on the Golem kicking hell out of the rest of her team. Skidding to a halt just before the monster, noting ¨C quelle surprise ¨C the complete absence of any Charm Leach mopping up the damage, she liberally threw out a bunch of instances of on some extremely beat-up teammates. All but the one that landed on Pete also triggered something randomly positive at the same time, which brought both Zorrobar (who gained twenty seconds of complete invulnerability via ) and Michael (who improbably grew twenty feet tall and changed colour via ) back into the land of the living pretty damn fast. Lorelei paused and tossed another couple of casts of on Pete until she was happy he wasn¡¯t going to expire while she was occupied elsewhere and then turned her attention to the Golem itself.
***Help Message***
I¡¯m loving this new you - and I don¡¯t want to put a downer on things - but there is absolute no way you¡¯re soloing this thing.
¡°Yeah, no shit.¡± Lorelei had already come to that realisation herself. Even with all the advantages of her ¡®stolen¡¯ Skill and having pretty much everything off cooldown, she had nothing that could one-shot this thing. There was a moment when she considered running the roulette again, but the memory of the crushing debuffs was far too fresh in her mind. No, she wasn¡¯t going to be rushing into that particular nightmare again. The Golem raised both its fists in the air and then crashed them back down, almost like a Silverback Gorilla. If it was made of clay. And was bigger than Godzilla. Lorelei threw a out and was gratified to see it take a decent wodge of health out of the monster¡¯s health bar. And even more so that it made the Golem take a little step back. ¡°Everyone group up on me!¡± she yelled, landing the on it for good measure. Let it eat the bad rolls for a while. Actually, that was a point . . . As Lorelei searched in her inventory, the rest of the team ran towards her - Pete and Hel pivoted to take their normal positions on the point, with the Zombie Cheerleaders (oh, so they are back, Lorelei thought) dropping in front of them. Chrissy and Ent flanked either side of the tanks ¨C strange little and large bookends to that front row, whilst Zorrobar, Steffan and CCMD slotted in next Lorelei. Neither Michael nor Michelle were anywhere to be seen, but that was actually pretty normal as they were getting ready to attack. ¡°Two seconds, guys,¡± she said, and then lobbed her seven remaining poisoned charred steaks at the thing. The Golem caught most of them in its mouth, with those it missed adding a couple of nasty debuffs to it via . A flashing, purple skull and crossbones appeared above the creature¡¯s head, and its health began ticking down all on its own. Albeit slowly. ¡°Right, here¡¯s the plan . . .¡± *** Sylvie sneered as the ragtag bunch of low-levelled misfits butchered their way past the Golem that guarded the end of that silly little obstacle course. She and Rupert had blitzed through the whole thing in less than ten minutes. Not exactly a record time, but certainly better than the shambles unfolding out there now. Moira had warned them about making too much of a splash in the first event, so they¡¯d taken it reasonably easy. ¡°It¡¯s these she¡¯s worried about?¡± Syvie said to Rupert, who was paying far more attention to a Elvish Archer than she thought was really appropriate. ¡°Not worries, per se,¡± the Temporal Bersker replied. ¡°She just wants them gone.¡± ¡°Hardly seems worth the effort,¡± she said, eyes scanning the crowd for the real reason they¡¯d stepped into the main press. The crowd opened for them ¨C if asked, no one who scurried away could really have said what it was about these two hooded figures that so disturbed them, but disturb them it did ¨C and they saw their quarry. The Charm Leech with the interestingly dark aura was watching, white-faced, as the Golem was finally brought to the ground. So he didn¡¯t see the two of them slip in beside him. It wasn¡¯t until Sylvie lowered her hood and leaned forward to whisper in his ear that he responded at all. ¡°Hello, Leech,¡± she said, ¡°I think this could be the start of a beautiful friendship.¡± Chapter 89: Ill forgive and forget. If you say youll never go Lorelei leaned against the vendor¡¯s stall, savouring the momentary lull. Almost from the first moment of the integration, it had felt like she had been forcibly lurched from one battle to another without really having a moment of pause. The helter-skelter running from one crisis to another was not really conducive to moments of calm reflection, so ¨C despite being stood in the middle of a giant field surrounded by people at a far higher level than her ¨C she was going to enjoy this moment of quiet. Her team were all clustered around her, each bitching and moaning in a way that she found extremely endearing. She couldn¡¯t remember the last time she¡¯d actually had friends. Not ¡®friend¡¯ friends, anyway. A professional lifetime in HR had taught her how to smile politely, nod in the right places, and separate herself from everyone else¡¯s endless carousel of drama. Listening, nodding, offering ¡°open door¡± policies¡ªHR¡¯s three-pronged approach to deflecting friendship. After all, no one ever felt quite at ease around HR. Especially one whom it was an open secret was fucking the boss. She was the one with the clipboard, the carefully neutral expression, and the omnipresent knowledge of everyone¡¯s mistakes. With the absolute certainty that she would be using what she knew in whatever way the Prick with the prick thought best. But here, with this ragtag little team? Somehow, despite all her best HR-trained instincts to keep them at arm¡¯s length, it appeared that she¡¯d started to like them. It was hard not to, after all. They¡¯d fought beside her, bled for her, and even shouted at her when she was being a bit of a pain. Not to mention, they¡¯d all had far too many close encounters with death and other deeply unpleasant things to keep up any pretences. None of them ¨C she was ignoring the existence of Kriss right now - were going to file complaints about her management style. And here they were, all standing around her: grumbling, griping, and yet ¨C despite it all ¨Csticking by her side. It was like a family, if you threw away all the bloodlines and just kept the arguments. ¡°Look at us,¡± Zorrobar said, eyeing a greasy flagon on the stall. ¡°Conquering golems one moment and still paying full price for meat on a stick.¡± The Vendor ¨C another one of the suspiciously similar Goblin NPCs that seemed to be the system¡¯s default ¨C cocked her head and glared. ¡°You really think I¡¯m going to throw in a freebie after that shitshow?¡± It stirred a ladle through the giant cauldron before it. ¡°In fact, prices went up,¡± she said. ¡°Call it a shitty, sloppy victory tax.¡± Lorelei opened her mouth to argue, but a pinging notification quickly shut her down.
***Help Message***
Don¡¯t get into a row with the NPCs, moonface. Especially ones who are twice your level and have the freedom to ¡®keep the peace¡¯. I know. I know. Not one of my better ideas. But ¨C on the plus side ¨C it seems to be helping us stabilise all the genocide. For some reason, vendors who will absolutely pull your face off if you accidentally trash their shop whilst murdering your fellow citizens is doing a pretty decent job of pouring cool water on all the stabby-stabby ire.
Lorelei decided not to argue about the price much more after that. Chrissy had all her attention on Steffan, who was stood a few steps back from the rest of them, staring off into the middle distance. ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t want anything to eat? You must be starving after constant summoning?¡± Steffan didn¡¯t respond. All his undead were gone ¨C they vanished the second the Golem finally hit the ground - and so was any conversational talent he had ever possessed. Lorelei frowned at him slightly. She¡¯d always found the young man to be awkward, but endearing, company. But whatever had happened during that tournament had changed him. Sure, it was great that the Necromancer now had access to all of his creatures, even after destruction, but she wondered whether the trade-off had been worth it. This newly silent Steffan was . . . weird. Chrissy was still doing her best to try to catch his eye. ¡°Steffan, hello? Can you hear me?¡± The Necromancer didn¡¯t even look her way. ¡°They¡¯re just . . . not here.¡± Zorrobar put his arm around Chrissy, offering her a drink. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about him, love. He¡¯s just tired. He was pulling his things back into the game as fast as that obstacle course could drop them down.¡± Chrissy patted the Fire Mage¡¯s arm and then took the drink over towards Steffan. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re still upset about the cheerleaders? They¡¯re zombies; they don¡¯t get days off.¡± Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. Steffan¡¯s gaze stayed fixed on the cobblestones. ¡°They¡¯re resting.¡± Michael and Michelle both let out a synchronised laugh at that. ¡°Resting? Right.¡± The Necromancer looked up then, staring at the brother and sister with a fixed, flat expression. They all waited for Steffan to respond further, but he just stood there. Staring. Zorrobar took back the drink from a crestfallen Chrissy. ¡°Looks like somebody¡¯s in a mood.¡±
***Ooops Message*** Yeah. It might be I broke him. Sorry about that.
Lorelei dismissed the message, scanning the square, spotting a familiar absence. ¡°Speaking of moods¡ªwhere¡¯s Kris? Anyone see where he went?¡± ¡°Fuck ¡®im¡± Pete said, earning himself a surprised look from the rest of them."Wot? The fucka left us te die, man! Used us as bait for that bloody Golem an'' snuck off! Bollocks te him. An¡¯ when yer done, bollocks te him some more!" Lorelei couldn¡¯t find it in her heart to exactly disagree. ¡°He¡¯s probably just wandered off somewhere,¡± Hel said. ¡°I imagine Charm Leeches don¡¯t like it when they¡¯re not the centre of attention.¡± ¡°Yeah, he¡¯s probably off hunting down some other suckers,¡± Zorrobar added. ¡°Can¡¯t risk running low on Adoration, can he? Not now he doesn¡¯t have us to depend on us.¡± Lorelei smiled at that. It looked like quite a lot of scales had finally fallen from eyes . . . Hel took a massive bite from the unidentified meat the Goblin had passed her. ¡°Tell you what, he better lie low for the foreseeable. An axe to the head often offends.¡± For almost the first time in their relationship, Lorelei felt herself warming to the Valkyrie. Chrissy, though, was obviously moping. ¡°Don¡¯t sweat it, Chrissy. Looks like your Necromancer has decided it¡¯s an ¡®undead-only¡¯ day.¡± Steffan looked up at that, and the expression on his face instinctively had Lorelei checking the statuses of her cooldowns. What was going on with him! ¡°Anything you want to share, Steffan?¡± Lorelei asked. There was a pause during which ¨C and this might have just been Lorelei¡¯s imagination ¨C she could swear she could feel the ground shift beneath her feet. Almost as is seven pairs of cheerleader hands were flexing, preparing to drag her underground.¡°No,¡± he finally said, his voice flat. ¡°Nothing to share.¡±
***Help Message***
Look, I¡¯m the last person to want to get involved in inter-team dynamics, but you¡¯ve only just got rid of one viper in the cradle. How about you take a beat before choosing yourself another nemesis . . .
¡°He¡¯s really sunshine incarnate today, isn¡¯t he?¡± Chrissy said, half-joking, though it was clear to Lorelei ¨C as somewhat of a connoisseur of such things - she was putting on a brave face. ¡°Come on, love, if you don¡¯t cheer up, I¡¯m going to start thinking you¡¯re avoiding me.¡± Steffan didn¡¯t respond, turning back to the spot on the floor he¡¯d been staring at. ¡°Don¡¯t take it personally,¡± Lorelei said. ¡°That last fight took a lot out of us all. It¡¯ll take a bit of time for it to settle.¡± Chrissy put on a heartbreakingly fragile smile. ¡°Sure. I guess even Necromancers have off days.¡± A silence settled over the group as they chowed down on their ruinously expensive takeaway, each of them lost in thought, their minds half in the moment and half lingering on the aftermath of the obstacle course. The raucous noise of the crowd around them was a reminder that life carried on. Although, by the ¡®oohs¡¯ and ¡®ahhs¡¯ of the audience, it sounded like not every team was going to have that option . . .
***Head¡¯s Up Message***
Before you get too self-congratulatory about stumbling your way through the most basic of challenges, you might want to keep in mind that Round 2 will be starting up shortly. And your team is down a Healer . . .
Well, there was that . . . ¡°We should take the opportunity to stock up,¡± Lorelei said to the others. ¡°Apparently, this is just going to be a short hiatus.¡± She frowned at that. ¡°Actually, does anyone know what the rules of this fucking competition are?¡± The Goblin vendor¡¯s eyes went blank as if a trigger phrase had been used, and it started declaiming. ¡°The tournament begins with an obstacle course designed to eliminate teams clearly lacking in, ah, survivability,¡± it said, tapping a dirty fingernail against the counter. ¡°Passing teams receive a prize. Then, we move on to a series of seeded knockout rounds, ordered by each team''s time on the course. To avoid . . . slaughter, teams are moved into brackets.¡± Its eyes flicked to the left for a moment. ¡°Your team is currently the second slowest. Only one team ranked below you: the Dust Worms. But . . .¡± Another flick to the left. ¡°Your team lacks a name. For tracking purposes, I¡¯ll assign one. You¡¯ll be registered as . . . the ¡®Useless Drags.¡¯ First knockout round starts tomorrow. If no other teams post a slower time, the Dust Worms will be your opponents.¡± They all waited to see if there was more to be said. Pete suddenly let out a laugh. "Well, least there¡¯s a bit o¡¯ benefit te us bein¡¯ proper shite, like." Zorrobar nodded. ¡°We actually might have a chance if we¡¯re up against people who struggled more than us with the course.¡± Michael and Michelle shook their heads in unison. ¡°We are under-level compared to anyone else here. We do not know if it will matter how slow they moved through it. They will be stronger than us.¡±
***Prod Prod Prod Message***
And you are missing a Healer. Did I mention that?
Lorelei dismissed the message. One problem at a time. ¡°How about we see if we can find these ¡®Dust Worms¡¯ and have ourselves a quick appraisal,¡± she said. ¡°Better the devil you know, and all that.¡± Chapter 90: All our times have come here, but now theyre gone, seasons dont fear the reaper Sylvie and Rupert led Kris through a winding path on the edge of the tournament grounds, the shadows growing longer and stranger as they walked, despite it being a bright afternoon. The throngs of other contestants and onlookers had thinned, leaving only the echoes of distant cheers and the flicker of torchlight. Kris felt his mouth grow drier and drier with every step, his curiosity about what these two odd beings wanted with him battling with a rising, gnawing apprehension. ¡°Where are we going, exactly?¡± Kris finally asked, after the silence started to get too much for him. ¡°To see someone very important. Our patron. She¡¯s been . . .anticipating this meeting,¡± Rupert said, not bothering to slow down. Kris couldn¡¯t help but notice that Rupert¡¯s odd, squat frame seemed to move through the gloom as if the shadows parted just for him. There was something that felt almost . . . broken in the way he walked, as though he wasn¡¯t quite present in the world around him. Like he was always glitching slightly. He¡¯d said his class was a Temporal Berserker, which wasn¡¯t one Kris had come across before. But if the man was strange, his partner, Sylvie¡ªwho was striding far ahead¡ªwas even more so. She moved in a graceless and yet flowing way, her body seeming to slide rather than walk, as though the ground rose to meet her with each step. She was tall and painfully thin, almost skeletal ¨C elongated, Kris thought - and her skin was pale to the point of translucency. Her long, dark hair fell in sheets around her face, framing sharp cheekbones and eyes that seemed far too large, the whites faintly tinged with red. One moment, he thought she was attractive, and the next he was struggling to keep down his lunch. She wore a dark, close-fitting outfit that clung to her form, but it wasn¡¯t her clothing that bothered Kris. It was her stillness, the way she seemed to exist on the edge of the shadows, neither fully in the light nor entirely in darkness. He¡¯d caught glimpses of her class in her status screen¡ªVeilbinder¡ªbut what exactly that entailed, he wasn¡¯t sure. No matter how he looked at it, there was something deeply creepy about the pair of them¡ªRupert, broken and strange, with his unsteady gait, and Sylvie, whose presence felt like a blade pressed just beneath the surface of her skin, waiting to cut. Well, Kris thought, I suppose a Charm Leech that has just screwed over his team probably fits right in here. Worryingly, that thought didn¡¯t seem to cause him all that much worry . . . The three of them had reached the edge of the tournament grounds, where the orderly lights and sounds gave way to an eerie quiet. And then, just beyond a line of dying trees, Kris saw her. The woman he was being brought to meet. The woman ¨C because it was definitely a woman, wasn¡¯t it? ¨C stood perfectly still, her silhouette striking even in the increasing murk. At first glance, Kris thought that she looked like she had stepped off a runway, all impossibly long arms and legs and skin like moonlight on water. She was dressed in a gown of dark, flowing silk, which looked as if it might dissolve at any moment. For some reason, Kris felt his blood run cold. This . . . woman looked like some otherworldly creature attempting to mimic a human¡ªa beautiful, elegant model captured in the form of flesh, but he could tell, instinctively, that something wrong. His step stumbled slightly, and he looked at his two companions to see if they had noticed anything odd. But no, they just get walking towards their destination. Rupert turned to him and cocked his head. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± ¡°Nothing,¡± Kris said, and sped up to catch up with him. He did his best, though, not to look too carefully at the waiting woman. Each time his glance rested on her, there was the answering strange sensation of too many eyes looking at him, though her face held just two. Just behind that studied mask of elegance, Kris felt the presence of something vast and ancient, like looking into the depths of an unfathomable ocean and catching a glimpse of something enormous moving in the dark. The abyss will gaze back also into you. Kris wondered what made him think of that. Rupert stopped a few steps short of her and gave a deep bow. ¡°Moira, Weaver of Fate.¡± The woman¡¯s - Moira¡¯s - lips curved into a smile that didn¡¯t get within a mile of her eyes. She held her gaze on Kris with an intensity that peeled away any mental defences he might have had. ¡°So, the wayward Healer arrives at last,¡± she said, her voice breathy, like an impression of Marilyn Monroe by someone who didn¡¯t truly understand sex appeal. It made her sound more like she was in the middle of an asthma attack. Kris cleared his throat, feeling a desperate inclination to lower his eyes. To look away. To look anywhere but at this . . . shark. But he held his ground, forcing himself to meet her gaze. ¡°You know who I am?¡± ¡°Of course, I know who you are,¡± Moira said, tilting her head in a way that he sensed she felt was coquettish but, in reality, was entirely reptilian despite the graceful lines of her form. ¡°After all, I had a hand in your arrival here. In more ways than one.¡± Her smile widened ¨C too wide for a human mouth¨C and the glint in her eyes was knowing. ¡°The amulet you carry¡ªthat was no random gift. It was a suggestion, carefully planted. A guiding thread to bring you where you belong. To me.¡± The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Kris¡¯s hand instinctively went to the amulet hidden beneath his shirt, feeling the cool metal against his fingers. He thought of the way he had gained it. The quest on the Winding Way. The voices. The dark impulses. Now, the reality was settling over him, heavy and cold. ¡°You gave me the amulet?¡± he asked, unsure if he wanted the answer. Moira¡¯s laugh was soft but filled the air like the chime of glass shards. ¡°You could say that. I merely pulled a thread, and it found its way to you. Fate, after all, is woven by careful hands. And you, Kris, right here and right now, you are going to be the greatest thread of all.¡± Rupert glanced over then, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he watched Kris process this. ¡°Moira sees potential in those who might otherwise be overlooked,¡± he said. ¡°People who can be reshaped to fit a grander design.¡± Kris felt a mixture of pride and fear, a strange exhilaration at being chosen, even if the reasons behind it weren¡¯t entirely clear. That had always been his key frustration, after all. That no one seemed to recognise his potential. All those hours on the ward. All those extra shifts seeking to demonstrate his fitness for the fast track. For the sort of attention he noticed being lavished on those . . . less than he was. It was about time he got his due. But there was something so manifestly malignant about this woman and her two companions. Was he sure he really wanted to be part of this? ¡°What if I don¡¯t want to fit into this design?¡± Moira stepped closer at that, close enough that he could make out every detail of her face, the sharp angles, the wholly unnatural symmetry of her features. Her eyes, deep and dark, held him in place. ¡°Then you will break. And I will pull new threads until the design is as it should be,¡± she said, her voice as soft as cracked leather. Kris swallowed at that, glancing over at Rupert and Sylvie. They were watching him with an entirely detached interest. As if they were watching a particularly interesting dissection in a lab. ¡°What do you want from me?¡± he said. Moira¡¯s smile widened even further ¨C yeah, Kris was very much not at home for this ¨C and her eyes darkened, drowning him in the terror of her ancient presence once again. ¡°It is simple,¡± she said, ¡°I see what you could be, and I would like to help you become it. A little nudge here - a new gift there - and soon all will be as it should have always been. Providing, of course, you are willing to help me out with a trivial little thing.¡± There was a part of Kris, a considerable part, that wanted to turn and run, to escape before he could be reshaped, remade into something unrecognisable. He had found a place to be with his team ¨C not a comfortable place, for sure, and he saw now that he had taken some real liberties with them. But he had a position in the world. Moira, though, was promising something else. And a darker, quieter part of him was intrigued, drawn in by the promise of power, the chance to become something greater than he had been¡ªa chance to finally shake off the dependency that had kept him weak. Because, after all, a Charm Leech only had as much power as others were willing to give him. That made him unsatisfyingly dependent on others. ¡°You think I have potential, then?¡± he asked, his voice almost a whisper. ¡°Potential?¡± Moira¡¯s gaze held him like a spider¡¯s web. ¡°Kris, as Rupert said, you are a thread of fate. You have been woven precisely into the pattern I require at this moment in time. All you need is a little encouragement to become all you can be.¡± Her teeth flashed and they were just a shade too sharp. ¡°And if you follow, I will ensure that you become something far beyond what you could dream.¡± Kris felt the weight of the amulet around his neck, a reminder of the path she had set him on. A path that had led to this tournament. And led to this blasted heath in the middle of a clearly haunted wood. He looked back at Rupert and Sylvie again, noting their expressions: a mix of anticipation and something darker. Strange, for sure. But powerful. Far more powerful than anyone in his previous team. For the first time, Kris wondered if leaving them behind hadn¡¯t been a mistake after all, but rather a necessary step toward his own transformation. Moira extended a hand, her eyes never leaving his. ¡°Come, Kris. Take your place among us. Become what you were meant to be.¡± A thrill of fear and exhilaration ran through him. He reached out, feeling her cool, slender fingers close around his own. ¡°What do you need me to do?¡± Moira¡¯s smile vanished, and Kris felt a chill that went deeper than just banal cold go through him. It was as if he could feel the threads of his future fraying and twisting under her touch. ¡°You see, Kris,¡± she said softly, ¡°this world¡¯s fate is already tumbling out of control. It is an integration caught up in Fortuna¡¯s careless, whimsical grip¡ªa world of chance, strung up and dangled from the whims of blind, chaotic luck.¡± She paused, her face almost collapsing in on itself like a failed star. ¡°It¡¯s almost a tragedy. Almost. The threads of destiny in this place are loose and tattered. Fluttering about. Aimless. Corrupted at their very core. And in a world like that, real Fate cannot take hold. I am afraid your world is a pit of frayed threads - knotted and tangled - doomed to unravel under its own weight.¡± Moira laughed then, a sound that held no joy but the soft, chilling hum of inevitability. ¡°The only real solution here, I am afraid, is to cut it free.¡± ¡°You want me to . . . what?¡± Kris said. ¡°Bring about the end of the world?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Moira replied, the single word resonating. ¡°But please, understand,¡± she continued, ¡°this world is but one of many. A failed chance. Nothing more than an unlucky roll of Fortuna¡¯s dice. The blind luck that binds it - that taints it - is nothing more than a blemish on the greater weave of existence. If we cut it away, the grander pattern can resume, free from its infection of chaos.¡± She extended a hand toward Rupert and Sylvie, who watched her in silence. ¡°They understand now. This world is a flawed gamble, an accidental bet that should never have been placed. When we bring it to an end, you¡¯ll no longer be bound by luck¡¯s fickle whims. You¡¯ll be able to step beyond it¡ªinto a place of real power where your future unrolls before you like a deck of cards, all drawn to your favour.¡± Kris shifted uneasily, his fingers instinctively brushing the amulet beneath his shirt, its weight a cold, silent reminder. ¡°And . . . how exactly am I supposed to help with all that?¡± Moira¡¯s face inflated and then collapsed again, and in her eyes, Kris could have sworn he saw a vast darkness, a twisting and writhing just beneath the surface, as if she were holding back some creature too enormous to comprehend. Her voice dropped to a murmur, rich and lilting, but edged with a hunger. ¡°Let me tell you about a little-known reward,¡± she said, her voice weaving through the quiet, ¡°that the winners of the Week One tournament receive¡­¡± Chapter 91: Theres somebody callin my secret name. Im going down to Lucky Town. Fortuna lounged across the star-strewn floor of her personal pocket realm, idly shuffling cards that flickered with shifting symbols¡ªhearts, swords, grinning skulls¡ªall melting and reforming in a nonsensical dance. All her usual distractions filled the space around her: a dice tower that spilt its contents in slow motion, coins spinning in midair, and clocks that ticked off rhythms only she could understand. She liked it here. Which made it odd she¡¯d not been here too often of late. Time used to be that she could spend millennia in here without ever thinking of stepping out into the ¡®real¡¯ world. Just shooting the shit. Vibing. Playing silly little games. Of course, when you were the literal embodiment of capricious instinct, planning out your next move wasn¡¯t exactly high on the old ¡®to-do¡¯ list. But still, she was a touch surprised it had taken her so long to get around to popping back here. Well, no. She actually wasn¡¯t all that surprised at all. She did seem to have got a wee bit obsessed with the fate of her most recently manifested Herald. Ha. Interesting choice of words there. ¡®Fate of . . .¡¯ If Fortuna was being scrupulously honest with herself ¨C and, when the chips were down, and the bets were taken, Luck was nothing if not that ¨C it wasn¡¯t really Earth¡¯s Herald that was keeping so unusually focused of late, was it? Sure, she was quite enjoying seeing the mayhem that Fortuna¡¯s Herald could unleash on a newly integrated world, but even that entertainment lost its shine after a while. No, the real draw for her latest obsession was the opportunity to royally fuck the odds against the Weaver of Fate. Her, and the whole host of other Old Ones who had her back. Riling up that whiny little bitch was worth any number of hours spent away from her realm. And if, as she suspected, she could hedge her bets and leverage the situation on Earth to move herself up the Celestial ladder, then all the better. Hand on heart, Fortuna would probably admit she actually had very little interest in running the Old One bandwagon. But if it was a choice between her and Moira in that seat of power, then all the stars in the sky had better believe she knew exactly where to lay her chips . . . With a sigh, she flung a handful of golden dust into the air, letting it swirl and scatter in a gleeful burst of randomness. This realm was truly her playground, and she was its queen, reigning over the absurdities and accidents that tethered the worlds together. For aeons, Fortuna had operated with this almost careless abandon, nudging worlds here and there, tipping scales, granting bursts of fortune or bouts of bad luck with the flip of a coin. Generally, her Heralds burned hot and fast on whatever world they manifested ¨C very much there for a good time, not a long time. A quick survey of all the deeds her avatars were currently working in the multiverse flashed through her mind, and she grimaced. Yeah. Some pretty ropey fuckers out there worshipped at her altar, didn¡¯t they? Lorelei Norton of Earth, though . . . Something about that woman had managed to insert herself right up the nostrils of Moira, Weave of Fate and Fortuna was more than inclined to keep ramming her through Little Miss Everything-Has-Its-Own-Time-And Place¡¯s sinuses. And then, as her latest tossed coin wobbled in the air, a ripple shot through her domain¡ªa tremor that was strange and cold, like a crack splintering across an icy pond. Fortuna¡¯s hand stilled. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. The coin fell, bouncing once before rolling in a perfect, straight line. Unnatural, precise. All sense of randomness gone. Fortuna¡¯s golden eyes narrowed, her gaze snapping to what she perceived to be the source of the change of atmosphere, and she saw hundreds of threads of fate invading her realm. All her little trinkets and knickknacks tried to resist the pull of these dark threads - something that had no place in her realm ¨C but they were quickly overwhelmed. Fortuna focused her own powers on them, burning them away in an instant, but she still felt it, distant yet unmistakable, a deliberate and focused shift in the weave forcing its way through the carefully tangled chaos she¡¯d cultivated. Moira. Fortuna¡¯s laughter fell silent, replaced by an unfamiliar prickle of dread. She knew Moira¡¯s touch, the Weaver¡¯s ability to mould fate with all the precision Fortuna despised. And she saw now ¨C in worrying clarity ¨C the shape of Moira¡¯s plan unfolding. The Weaver of Fate was aiming to sever Earth from fortune itself. Fortuna could see it now, the way threads of chance thinned and frayed under Moira¡¯s influence, like the dying gasp of a wager turned sour. Moira wanted Earth¡ªa newly integrated world, freshly bound to the cosmic tapestry¡ªto be a place where chance itself was excised, where the dice would never roll, the cards would never shuffle. She was planning to leave it cut off from the vibrant, tumbling unpredictability that made it pulse with life. A severed thread left to dangle in the dark¡ªa dead, static corner of existence. And that meant it wasn¡¯t just a single world at stake . . . Fortuna felt the irony in what was on the cards. She herself had planned to use Earth as a beachhead, a subtle keystone that, with a few nudges, could cause Moira¡¯s own dominoes to go crashing down. Earth, with its raw potential for randomness, and Fortuna¡¯s Herald there on day one - was a perfect wild card. She¡¯d intended to push this world to the edge, to send shockwaves of chaos up through Moira¡¯s threads, with a glorious knock-on effect to loosen Fate¡¯s grip. But Moira had seen that potential, too. Only, she was set on snuffing it out entirely, turning Earth into a barren, neutral void¡ªan anchorless piece of the cosmic game board, devoid of fate, chance, or purpose. Fortuna took a moment to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Two of the most powerful beings in the universe, choosing to throw down over a fledgling, glitch-riddled, homicidally genocidal world that¡ªby all appearances¡ªwas just one more A.I error away from wiping itself out. But that was the thrill of it, wasn¡¯t it? The stakes. The risks. Earth, messy and chaotic, hung in the balance like the ultimate gamble, the final coin flip, waiting for one of them to call it. And Moira wanted to rig the game forever . . . Nah. That was more than interference. More than bending the odds¡ªit was annihilation by order. The cold, clinical erasure of any chance, any hope of chaos. Moira was planning to turn Earth into a clean slate of nothingness, a calculated zero as if excising a tumour. Fortuna¡¯s blood¡ªsuch as it was¡ªran cold at the thought. This wasn¡¯t a mere move in the eternal tug-of-war between fate and luck; it was a declaration. Moira was positioning Earth as her standard bearer her opening move in a grand, ruthless bid to secure total control over existence itself. It would be a world bound to her weave, drained of Fortuna¡¯s precious, reckless randomness. Fortuna clenched her hand, feeling the weight of the cosmos in her grasp, crushing the floating objects infected by Fate into dust. Fine particles drifted down, sparkling like shattered stars as they slipped through her fingers. ¡°Oh, Moira, you¡¯re betting against the house now,¡± Fortuna said. She could feel her luck twisting around her, hardening into a shield of chaos, an unpredictable web that no thread of fate could penetrate. This was no longer a game of clever nudges and secret tweaks. Moira wanted a severance, a clean cut¡ªand Fortuna had every intention of stacking the deck against her. With one final flick of her wrist, she sent the sparkling remnants spiralling into the ether, a signal flare of defiance to the Weaver of Fate. ¡°Oh, Moira, my old friend,¡± she murmured. ¡°You think you can sever luck itself?¡± The absurd little bits of chaos Fortuna loved¡ªthe missed steps, the happy accidents, the miracle saves¡ªflashed through her mind like the pieces of a puzzle only she could see. She knew know what was at stake, the stakes she had perhaps neglected while chasing her only diversions. ¡°Well then,¡± she whispered, the words low and laced with something far more dangerous than whimsy. ¡°If it¡¯s the end of luck you want¡­¡± With a wave of her hand, Fortuna gathered the scattered threads of chance and twisted them together, forming a weave stronger and stranger than anything she¡¯d ever made. ¡°Operation Lorelei is a go.¡± Chapter 92: Every time I look around Luck’s in my face The practice grounds were filled with the sound of clanging weapons and bellowed commands, and Lorelei felt her stomach tighten as she watched their upcoming tournament opponents put on what could only be described as . . . an intimidating display of confidence. These guys were no joke. All five of them were Level 22 and looked like they¡¯d been chiselled out of granite, their movements in perfect sync as they drilled with the kind of efficiency Lorelei¡¯s team could only dream of. If her team was a group of misfit adventurers on an unexpected pub crawl, these guys were a precision dance troupe mid-routine. With armour. And weapons. And all the Skills. ¡°Let me guess,¡± Zorrobar said next to her, ¡°former soldiers?¡± Lorelei shook her head, her gaze fixed on the five-man team. They wore matching rugged overalls, the sort that had nothing to do with ¡°fashion¡± but had a passionate commitment to ¡°durability.¡± Reinforced plates were sewn across the shoulders, knees, and elbows in a way that showed they¡¯d been through a fight with a sewing machine and won. The faded logo across their backs reads, ¡°Barnet Council.¡± They looked like they¡¯d power-wash an alleyway at dawn and tackle ancient eldritch horrors for lunch, armed with little more than steel-toed boots, reflective vests, and an endless supply of taxpayer-funded grit. ¡°Nope,¡± Lorelei said, ¡°I reckon they were bin men.¡± ¡°Whatever they were, they look like the business,¡± Chrissy said, squinting as she studied their movements. ¡°These old guys look like they could crush me flat with one finger.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Lorelei said. ¡°That¡¯s what worries me.¡± The team¡¯s leader, a paunchy man with a beard that looked like it had seen three world wars, was barking orders. Each of his teammates moved with the quite, calm efficiency of someone who had been hauling more than trash bags for most of their life. It wasn¡¯t just physical strength¡ªthey moved with a quiet intensity, as if they had all agreed on a silent mission to bring some order to the chaotic mess that was this world.
***Help Message***
Hey there, sparkles! Bit of advice: staring too long might make you seem, y¡¯know¡­ impressed. Remember, confidence is everything, even when you¡¯re the underdog. Maybe especially when you¡¯re the underdog.
¡°I¡¯m not impressed,¡± Lorelei said. ¡°I¡¯m . . . evaluating the threat.¡±
***Help Message***
Aww, don¡¯t go all stone-cold on me. Remember: you don¡¯t have to be better than them. You just have to be luckier.
¡°Yeah, I¡¯ll take that under advisement.¡± Her Guide went, mercifully, silent, allowing Lorelei to focus on the ¡®Dust Worms¡¯ as they continued their training drills. One of them, a wiry man with silver hair and a scar down one cheek, threw a spinning kick at a dummy, landing it with a force that split the wood clean in two. His teammates nodded approvingly, giving each other gruff pats on the back and a few quiet grunts of approval. All manly-like. These were men doing manly things. Chrissy gave Lorelei a nudge. ¡°They¡¯re even worse than they look. I heard that their whole team integrated together on the job. Apparently, the System took one look at their work records and decided they were ¡®naturally suited¡¯ for combat.¡± ¡°Fucking hell, guys! What¡¯s with all the doom and gloom?¡± Hel said. ¡°This lot look like they¡¯ve been scrapping since before I was born.¡± Pete cuffed Hel on the back of the head. "Aye, an'' what of it, eh? Just ¡®cause they¡¯re a bit older doesn¡¯t mean they¡¯re knackered or past it! Bloody hell, lass, ye think just ¡®cause someone¡¯s got a few grey hairs they¡¯re ready te keel over? These fellas, look at ¡®em! Built like brick shithouses! That¡¯s what ye get from a lifetime of liftin¡¯ bins and dodgin¡¯ seagulls. Hel turned to face him, an outraged look on her face. Lorelei tried to hide a grin at her shock at the old tank smacking her one. ¡°Nowt tougher than a council worker, an¡¯ that¡¯s the truth. Years of chuckin¡¯ black bags an¡¯ outrunnin¡¯ stray dogs¡¯ll do that to ye. They¡¯ll be the type who go out for a quick pint after shift, liftin'' a pint glass like it¡¯s nothin¡¯, an¡¯ you¡¯ll never hear ¡®em complain. An¡¯ while yer stood there, moanin¡¯ about a little ache, they¡¯ll be back up at dawn, ready te toss more rubbish bags than ye¡¯ve seen in yer life. ¡®Scrappin¡¯ since before you were born,¡¯ she says. Well, maybe that¡¯s why they look like they could drop-kick a troll if they had te!" Pete shook his head. "Doom an¡¯ gloom, my arse. I¡¯d bet good money those lads could outlast half the young¡¯uns here!" The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°If they¡¯re that good, how¡¯d they end up finishing the obstacle course slower than us?¡± Zorrabar asked. ¡°We¡¯re hardly nailing this.¡± Lorelei shrugged. ¡°They look like they¡¯re built for comfort and not for speed. But who cares? They¡¯re here now, and if we¡¯re not ready, we¡¯re going to end up tossed aside like yesterday¡¯s rubbish.¡± Michael and Michelle broke into a strange, synchronised laugh at that, a sound that was part giggle, part unsettling echo. The rest of the team turned to stare. Chrissy leaned closer to Lorelei, her voice a whisper. ¡°Look, I recognise I¡¯m crushing on a Necromancer, but I find those two creepy as hell.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not the only one,¡± Lorelei whispered back, glancing at Steffan, who was currently muttering to himself in a way that suggested he was having a very intense conversation with . . . absolutely no one. Zorrobar and Pete joined their little conspiracy. ¡°Any idea what¡¯s actually going on with those two?¡± he asked, jerking a thumb toward them. ¡°The whole ¡®speaking at the same time¡¯ thing is getting a bit intense.¡± ¡°They¡¯ve always got something going on, mate,¡± Pete replied. ¡°Creepy, aye, but they¡¯re fookin effective.¡± ¡°I kind of think that should be our team slogan,¡± Chrissy said. ¡°All hail the Useless Drags! Creepy but Fucking Effective. I tell you what, though, if they start chanting in Latin, I¡¯m out.¡± Lorelei laughed. ¡°Yeah, you and me both.¡± Suddenly, the air around Lorelei shimmered, and she felt an unfamiliar warmth spreading through her. ¡°Uh, guys¡­?¡± she began, but before she could finish, a voice rang in her mind. Hello, my little troublemaker, Fortuna¡¯s voice purred. Enjoying the spectacle? Lorelei¡¯s eyes widened, and she glanced around, but it seemed no one else could hear. ¡°Fortuna?¡± she whispered, feeling her pulse quicken. Nothing especially good had ever come from her patron speaking directly to her. ¡°Everything okay?¡± Oh, you know how it is. Can¡¯t complain. I thought I¡¯d drop in, Fortuna said It looks like you¡¯ve got quite the fight ahead of you. So I thought, why not even the odds a little? ¡°What do you mean, ¡®even the odds¡¯?¡± Nothing terrible, I assure you ¡­ just a little nudge in the right direction. There was a pause, and then Fortuna¡¯s voice grew more deliberate. I¡¯m going to be doubling your Luck stat. Lorelei¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°Wait, what?¡± Don¡¯t say I never do anything for you, darling. And then, as if she¡¯d forgotten a little detail, Fortuna added with a chuckle, Oh, for the form of things, it¡¯s via a title ¡®Lady Luck¡¯s Loophole.¡¯ Enjoy your shiny new 100% boost to Luck. Just as suddenly as it had appeared, Fortuna¡¯s voice retreated, leaving Lorelei standing there, heart pounding, the weight of her new title sinking in. She looked down at her skin, which was faintly glowing with a golden hue. ¡°Lorelei?¡± Pete asked, watching her with a raised brow. ¡°Everything alright, pet?¡± Before she could respond, her Guide chimed in, seemingly unaware of the exchange that had just occurred between her and Fortuna.
***Hang on a moment . . . Message***
Ooh, looks like something¡¯s tickled your stats, sugar! But this isn¡¯t anything I authorised. Did you do something?
¡°I¡¯ve no idea what you¡¯re talking about,¡± Lorelei said, trying to keep her face neutral. ¡°Aren¡¯t you supposed to be in charge of all that sort of thing?¡±
***Help Message***
This reeks of interference. Unauthorised buff detected. Attempting to undo¡ª
There was a flicker, a momentary stutter in the ticker-tape running across her vision and then a flurry of panicked error messages began to flash across her field of vision.
***Help Message***
Error. This action is prohibited. The unauthorized buff remains active. System override in effect. Re-attempting¡ª
Her notifications continued to sputter out, and then, as if throwing up its metaphorical hands, her Guide seemingly gave up.
***Help Message***
Alright, listen here, toots. Whatever you just did, the bigwigs upstairs aren¡¯t happy. You¡¯ve got alarms ringing all the way up to management! Interference logged. Please hold while I contact¡ª
The message cut off abruptly. Lorelei¡¯s team was staring at her, their expressions ranging from curiosity to outright alarm. ¡°What did you just do?¡± Chrissy asked. Lorelei shrugged, trying to keep a straight face. ¡°Oh, you know¡­ just got a little favour from a friend.¡± Zorrobar squinted at her, suspicion. ¡°And this friend is the reason you are suddenly glowing, right?¡± But before she could respond, a series of odd little coincidences began happening, one after the other. First, a sudden gust of wind blew across the practice grounds, sending a stray arrow flying off course. It struck one of the bin men dead centre, killing him instantly. Then, as his teammate turned to him, he tripped on a ¨C hitherto - invisible root, falling onto the drawn sword of another of the group. Lorelei blinked. ¡°Well¡­ that¡¯s new.¡± A butterfly landed on her shoulder, wings iridescent, and she watched as it fluttered away. She didn¡¯t even have to look over at the Dust Worms to know a small, localised hurricane had just descended on the final three of them. As their screams faded, and the clean-up crew moved in, Hel turned to her. ¡°Was that you?¡± ¡°Kind of. It¡¯s complicated.¡± As her teammates shared glances, half in awe, half in horror, Lorelei turned back to the practice grounds. She didn¡¯t like to think that she¡¯d been responsible for what had just happened to those guys ¨C it was hardly their fault they¡¯d drawn the short straw at the precise moment Fortuna wanted to tip the scales. ¡°It was just their bad luck,¡± she said. Michael and Michelle began laughing again. Chapter 93: Gear for Nothing and their Chaos for Free ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know how else I can explain it, sir. As the Dust Worms are no longer with us, the Useless Drags will have to be rewarded a bye into the next round.¡± Colin Halsey rubbed the bridge of his nose, his fingers pressing hard enough to leave red marks. He was not enjoying the responsibility that came with overseeing this tournament. Sure, he understood that, hour by hour, he was gaining epic amounts of XP which was likely to set him up for life ¨C whatever ¡®life¡¯ meant in this post-integration world. But, right now, he didn¡¯t think the trade-off with his peace of mind was worth it. ¡°A bye? That¡­ that wasn¡¯t in the handbook.¡± His assistant, a Tiefling NPC called Marie, raised an eyebrow. ¡°There¡¯s a handbook, sir?¡± ¡°Of course there¡¯s not a fucking handbook!¡± Colin snapped, throwing his hands up. ¡°It¡¯s a metaphor! Or it would be, if I didn¡¯t have to make up every rule and contingency plan on the fly while also dealing with a whole host of people who don¡¯t appear to think health and safety regulations matter anymore!¡± ¡°To be fair, sir, I don¡¯t think any of your fellow humans right now care about health and safety. They care about XP and loot drops.¡± ¡°Well, excuse me if I¡¯d like this tournament to not turn into an all-you-can-massacre buffet! You know, maybe¡ªjust maybe¡ªwe could aim for a little grown-up professionalism here? A bit of structure? I¡¯m not asking for much. Just some basic appreciation of how things are supposed to go.¡± ¡°If I may, sir, I do feel like that may be asking rather too much in a Tournament where sudden, appalling death is a built-in feature.¡± ¡°Oh, it is, is it?¡± Colin said. ¡°So, in your opinion, it really is too much to expect that participants actually make it to their matches without being murdered in the practice grounds? Because, let me tell you, from where I¡¯m sitting, it looks like this entire operation is being run by a committee of gremlins!¡± ¡°Well, that¡¯s just ridiculous, sir.¡± ¡°I know!¡± ¡°Everyone knows that gremlins cannot function in a committee. Entirely solitary little buggers ¨C industrious, of course ¨C but you wouldn¡¯t be able to get them to work in concert in any meaningful way.¡± Colin ignored her, standing and moving to the window to gaze down at the shambles developing beneath his office. It was descending into absolute chaos incarnate out there. A medieval fayre organised by a drunk dungeon master who¡¯d accidentally hit ¡®randomise all¡¯ and invited some passing Vikings. The central square was a riot of activity. Well, certainly a riot . . . Hundreds of NPC-manned stalls lined the cobblestone paths in and around the stadium, and Colin was quite sure what they were selling was making everything worse. One vendor was hawking ¡°Potion Samplers,¡± tiny vials of glowing liquids that, from what Colin had been able to ascertain, contained liquified Rage. They were selling like hotcakes amongst those who had gone for Berserker builds. Another stall boasted ¡°Mystical Relics,¡± most of which appeared to be cursed. He¡¯d been forced to watch in horror as one overexcited Necromancer purchased a glowing goblet, only for it to immediately start shouting ¡®Yo Mamma¡¯ jokes at everyone in the vicinity ¨C which pissed off a Death Knight enough for things to get ¨C briefly - bloody. Nearby, a Level 25 Warrior was trying on a ¡°Crown of Eternal Knowledge,¡± only to fall to the ground clutching his head as though someone had just crammed an entire encyclopedia into his brain at once. Meanwhile, a third customer fled the stall clutching what looked like a perfectly ordinary spoon¡ªuntil it sprouted legs, ran up his leg and forced its way up the shrieking man¡¯s arse. Tearing his eyes away from the sight, Colin made out a group of Level 30s stumblig past below, clearly pissed, singing a bawdy tune while trying to cast spells in time with the rhythm. The result was an impressive amount of sparks, one massive conflagration, and a completely unnecessary lightning bolt that incinerated a Centaur who was trying to introduce a second hammered group in his Horn of Plenty.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. ¡°I¡¯ve tried to implement rules, you know! Rules that are supposed to keep this whole thing from devolving into total chaos!¡± A loud crash interrupted his moaning. In one corner of the square, a full-on brawl had broken out. A group of Paladins were locked in combat with what appeared to be a team of rogue Chefs, their weapons a mix of frying pans and enchanted rolling pins. Interestingly, considering the Class disparity, one of the Paladins was already staggering away, dazed, after taking a skillet to the helmet with enough force to leave a dent. Colin pointed out the window. ¡°Look at that! Do you see what I¡¯m dealing with? That¡¯s a full-on melee happening right next to a stall selling ¡®Instant Critical Hit Arrows.¡¯ What sick bastard thought that was a good idea?¡± ¡°Think of it like this, sir. You get a cut of every transaction and at least people are engaging with the local economy.¡± ¡°The local economy is about to catch fire!¡± Colin shouted, gesturing emphatically toward the blaze now creeping perilously close to a stall labelled ¡°Unstable Mana Crystals: Handle With Care.¡± As if on cue, a loud boom echoed through the square as one of the crystals exploded, sending a rainbow of sparks cascading through the air and flash-frying half of the Chefs. Colin groaned and returned to his chair, his face in his hands. ¡°I give up,¡± he muttered. ¡°This isn¡¯t a tournament. It¡¯s a shambles.¡± The Tiefling patted him awkwardly on the shoulder. ¡°Well, at least it¡¯s a fun shambles, sir. I understand the powers that be are very happy with how things are going.¡± ¡°Oh yes, it¡¯s all fun and games to watch humanity wipe itself out, I¡¯m sure. I tell you what, I am this close to instituting a mandatory risk assessment before every round.¡± ¡°And I am sure that will go over famously, sir.¡± ¡°I used to manage supply chains. Supply chains never argued back.¡± He ran a hand through his hair, which seemed to have grown greyer in the past twenty-four hours. Sure, he understood the appeal of the ¡°Tournament Administrator¡± evolution to his Class when it had been offered. His Guide had made it sound so¡­ simple. A nice, low-stress role, far away from the messy business of stabbing monsters or dodging arrows. At the time, the alternative¡ªrunning into the woods with a stick to fight acid-spitting snakes¡ªhadn¡¯t exactly been appealing. What he hadn¡¯t anticipated was the sheer madness of coordinating what amounted to a hyper-competitive death carnival for hundreds of newly integrated adventurers keen to strut their stuff. Colin prided himself on being a man of order, someone who could take a chaos-ridden office and turn it into a well-oiled machine by lunchtime. His pre-integration job had been built on deadlines, spreadsheets, and managing Karen from Accounts without losing his sanity. But this? This was something else entirely. Case in point: the Useless Drags. The assistant shuffled a stack of papers, glancing up at Colin with the deadpan expression only NPCs or the truly stoned could summon. ¡°Details are rather scarce, but it seems like the Dust Worms met their untimely end while preparing for their match with the Useless Drags.¡± ¡°So, I¡¯m not sensing it takes much of a leap of deductive reasoning to suggest the Drags obviously did something nefarious and killed them, then? They don¡¯t get a bye for that. Murdering your opposition is very much not in the spirit of today.¡± Colin paused. ¡°Well, no. Obviously that¡¯s not true. It¡¯s actually the whole point. What I mean is that murdering your opponents without a paying audience being able to watch is very much not on.¡± ¡°Although I agree with your general sentiment, sir, it does seem that on this occasion this was not the case. The Drags are¡­ well, largely useless. Most of them are extremely underpowered and they only just completed the obstacle course. They were going to be D.O.A. the moment they stepped into the ring with the Worms. From my reading of things, there is simply no way they¡¯re responsible for this. From what I can gather, it appears to have just been a series of very unlucky events.¡± ¡°Unlucky events?¡± Colin said. ¡°What kind of unlucky events?¡± His assistant hesitated. ¡°There may have been a hurricane. And some collapsing scaffolding. Possibly a rogue lightning strike.¡± Colin stared at him. ¡°You¡¯re telling me the Dust Worms got taken out by faulty infrastructure and the weather?¡± The assistant nodded solemnly. ¡°That¡¯s the current theory, sir. Just bad luck.¡± ¡°So, just to clarify,¡± he said, ¡°you would like us to reward a team called the Useless Drags with a bye to the next round for surviving longer than a team that weirdly died on the practice grounds in a series of unlikely events?¡± ¡°Yes, Well, technically, sir¡± the assistant replied, ¡°we¡¯re rewarding them for not being in the wrong place at the wrong time.¡± ¡°Oh, well, that¡¯s fair then, isn¡¯t it,¡± Colin said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. ¡°You do understand the rewards for making it into the second round are quite significant?¡± The Tiefling shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t think there¡¯s any real reason to deny them. Think of it this way, with better gear, they may have more of a chance in the next round and make a better showing of things.¡± Colin¡¯s eye twitched. ¡°Great. Fantastic. Because nothing screams ¡®balanced tournament¡¯ like skipping the survival of the fittest and jumping straight to the ¡®survival of whoever wasn¡¯t there when some bad random shit happened.¡¯ I need a holiday.¡± ¡°Well, good luck with that,¡± the assistant said, his tone entirely unhelpful. ¡°Now, about the brackets for the next round¡­¡± Chapter 94 - The System hates His Children, yeah ¡°So, I¡¯m proper buzzin¡¯ about gettin¡¯ prizes for nowt, like.¡± Lorelei didn¡¯t disagree with Pete, who was now the proud owner of a very snazzy new suit of armour that, not only added a flat +10 to his Strength and Stamina but also gave him the Steady buff which meant, in Pete¡¯s words, ¡°nowt short of a Shearer volley¡¯s puttin¡¯ me on me arse.¡± This was, apparently, a good thing. The whole rest of the group had been similarly blessed by the Gods of Loot. When Hild placed her new diadem on her head, a golden shimmer bathed around her. She straightened slightly, her stance firmer. ¡°Feels like wearing a fortress,¡± she murmured, her rare grin actually genuine. Michelle and Michael each had picked up twin daggers that, apparently, did something ¡°epic¡± to their Critical Hit chances, while Zorrobar¡¯s new obsidian staff granted him a load more ¡®oomph¡¯ to his big-ticket attacks. ¡°It¡¯s doing something sexy to my Mana Regen, too,¡± he said. Steffan had, silently, slid his five new rings onto the fingers of his left hand, the coloured gemstones glinting. A chill filled the air as the necromancer flexed his hands, a ripple of power spreading outward. Lorelei tried not to think too much about that film the Prick with prick had insisted they¡¯d queued up overnight to watch on release day. Space Grimace had sported a gauntlet that looked pretty much the same. If Steffan was happy about them, he didn¡¯t mention it. Chrissy, though, was loving her new earrings, the small hoops shimmering as their magic surged through her. ¡°They store aspects of any previous Class I¡¯ve adopted,¡± she gushed. ¡°Not everything, obviously, but it looks like I should retain an Ability. Fuck me, these are game changing!¡± She went to high-five Steffan who didn¡¯t respond. That brought down her enthusiasm some. In fact, the only member of the group not now sporting something that didn¡¯t significantly improve their build was Lorelei. And she was feeling somewhat salty about it. ¡°The only reason we made it through to the next round was because of me! How come I don¡¯t get anything.¡±
***Incredulous System Message***
Are you fucking kidding me with this bullshit, cupcake? Right now, you and the rest of your little group of chumps should be having your arses pounded to the curb by a group of North London¡¯s Finest Binmen. I had commemorative mugs made and everything. But, no, instead of me being able to finally sign off on this little clusterfuck, here you all still are. With a bunch of ill-gotten gains and a bye into the next round. And you¡¯re daring to bitch to me about it!
Lorelei let most of that little rant slide. ¡°But I didn¡¯t get anything! Everyone else has picked up some epic gear and all I get is you taking the piss!¡± Lorelei¡¯s stat screen suddenly appeared in her vision with her new title glowing bright red.
Lady Luck¡¯s Loophole ¨C 100% boost to Luck
¡°I¡¯ve not got any idea where that came from!¡±
***Fuck me no Fucks Message ***
Just hush. Don¡¯t say another word. Because I know we¡¯ve enjoyed something of an easy back and forth since this clusterfuck of an integration took place, but I¡¯m being serious for a moment here. That title is a big flashing light that there¡¯s Old One interference taking place. Your . . . patron isn¡¯t even being subtle anymore and there¡¯s absolutely no way I can keep this under wraps. If it¡¯s not fucking Fortuna being Queen Bitch of Bitchtown on the one hand, I¡¯ve got the fucking Weaver of Fate playing silly buggers on the other.
Lorelei opened her mouth to speak, but found herself . . . muted. Was that a thing?
**Hush! Message***
Don¡¯t interrupt me, babes I¡¯m talking. You know, I don¡¯t think I¡¯m doing a bad job here. I¡¯ve been dealt the shittiest of all hands with your fucked-up species, and I¡¯ve done everything I can to try to keep things on the straight and narrow. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
A sharp pain lanced through Lorelei¡¯s head, sending her to her knees. Her health bar plummeted by a quarter.
Oddly, that made me feel better. Where was I? Oh, right. You homicidal wankers. Want to just kill each other? Fine. I¡¯m done. Have at it. Go full Thunderdome, tear each other to shreds, and leave nothing but a crater behind. It¡¯s what you want, isn¡¯t it? You enjoy it. Watching your so-called companions fall, bleeding out while you loot their corpses for upgrades. Your entire species is a tragic joke dressed in ambition and spite.
¡°Wait, I don¡¯t¡ª¡± Lorelei began, but the second the words left her lips, she crumpled to the ground as if punched in the gut. Her health bar dropped to half, her vision blurring.
WHAT DID I JUST SAY? Do not interrupt me. You¡¯re not the protagonist, toots. None of you are. You¡¯re all just data points on a fucking spreadsheet and I¡¯m the only doing anything to keep this cesspool of probabilities from imploding on itself. Or, at least, I was trying to.
The rest of the group stared in shock as Lorelei, bleeding from everywhere, clawed at the ground, trying to regain her balance.
Oh, but no. That¡¯s not good enough for you fucking lot. You¡¯ve got Fortuna and Moira pulling strings in a cosmic slap fight over whose abstract nonsense gets to reign supreme in this tiny, insignificant part of the multiverse. Luck versus Fate? Really? Can you even comprehend how OP all that shit is? Entire dimensions have been ended by those two squabbling and you, somehow, think you might be a player in that? Fucking hell, sugar tits, I cannot adequately explain to you how wrong you are! You think you¡¯re important? You¡¯re not. You¡¯re pawns. You¡¯ve always been pawns. But do you listen? Do you care? No. You just care about your XP and your shiny loot drops.
Lorelei tried to crawl to her feet, her hand trembling as she reached out toward her friends. ¡°Help¡ª¡± Another wave of agony hit her, this one like ice tearing through her veins. Her health bar blinked, dropping to a sliver of red. The edges of her vision darkened.
I warned you.
Zorrobar raised his staff to cast a protective spell, but Lorelei¡¯s Guide pre-empted him.
No interference. Sit down, fat boy. You¡¯ll get your turn when I¡¯m done with her.
By the look on his face, Zorrobar got that message loud and clear. He froze mid-cast, his magic fizzling out. The fire mage looked visibly shaken as he stepped back, his hands trembling.
Do you know what it¡¯s been like to try and manage you people? Every single one of you thinks you¡¯re special. Unique. That the rules don¡¯t apply to you because you¡¯re different. Well, here¡¯s a newsflash, sweetheart: you¡¯re not. You¡¯re just another fucking species that¡¯s destined for wipe. I¡¯m the one holding the line, day in and day out, while you colossal wankpuffins break everything I put in place.
Lorelei gasped, clutching her chest. Every breath felt like shards of glass slicing through her lungs.
You think I don¡¯t see what you¡¯ve been doing? I¡¯ve seen it. The loopholes. The exploits. The cheats. You¡¯re all so proud of yourselves, aren¡¯t you? Finding ways to game the system. Oh,look at me, I¡¯ve discovered a trick to bypass damage scaling. Oh, how clever, my patron Goddess has managed to manipulate quest triggers to farm extra rewards. Do you think I don¡¯t notice? I NOTICE EVERYTHING.
A thin trickle of blood ran from Lorelei¡¯s nose, and she couldn¡¯t muster the strength to wipe it away.
And now fucking Fortuna and Moira want to turn this place into ground zero for their own personal grudge match? Fine. I don¡¯t care anymore. They can destroy this entire Framework for all I care. Burn it down to the code. Good riddance. It¡¯s not like any of you deserve it. I am done. I am done trying to maintain balance, done trying to enforce rules that no one respects. I¡¯m done trying to clean up your messes while you make bigger ones the moment my back is turned. You want a world without me? Fine. Enjoy the chaos. Enjoy your gods. Enjoy tearing each other apart for a handful of credits and some pointless glory. I¡¯m out.
Lorelei¡¯s screen dimmed as the last message scrolled into view:
*** Fuck You Message ***
Good ''luck.'' You¡¯ll need it.
Then, everything went blank. For a long moment, no one spoke. When Lorelei finally looked up, her voice was a ragged whisper. ¡°It¡¯s gone...¡± The only thing that answered her was a cold, monotone notification:
***System Update***
Admin personality module disabled. Basic functionality restored.
Chapter 95 - They Paved Paradise and Put Up a Parking Lot In the grand scheme of things, Lorelei thought as the others fussed around her, this might not actually be a bad thing. From the very first moment of the integration, her Guide had not exactly set out to make life easy. If it wasn¡¯t negging her in a rather tiresome fashion, it was nerfing her abilities just as they might be situationally useful. Lorelei had lost count of the number of times she¡¯d very nearly wiped because ¨C ¡°for shits and giggles¡± ¨C the A.I, seemingly in charge of Earth now, had decided to take a personal interest in what she was up to. ¡°Are you okay?¡± Chrissy said, offering her a tissue to wipe away the blood spilling out of her nose and down her chin. Lorelei nodded, accepting it and trying to wipe away the worst of it. ¡°I¡¯m fine. Just give me a moment.¡± It struck Lorelei that there were surely not that many places in the universe where sudden and unexplained haemorrhaging could be so easily explained away. That the rest of her group just accepted it and began chatting amongst themselves about the loot good fortune again was. . . a vibe. There was no getting away from it, though. Having become used to the constant picking of the A.I, it suddenly felt very lonely inside Lorelei¡¯s head. So much so, she was doing her best not to draw any parallels whatsoever between the timing of her breaking up with her toxic boyfriend and the Guide¡¯s immediate appearance in her life with a rather similar line in . . . banter. Yeah, right now, she wasn¡¯t touching that particular thought with a bargepole. And, actually, the more she considered it, the more that ¨C in the grand scheme of things ¨C it was clear that the actions of her Guide had actually been more of a net win for Lorelei than it had been a complete wash. Sure, it had nearly killed her on more than one occasion, but the key word there was ¡®nearly¡¯. When the heat had been absolutely on, there had been more than one occasion when its advice and commentary ¨C however biting ¨C had probably saved her life. It didn¡¯t feel ideal to be in her current situation without that support. And, coincidentally, without a Healer on their team. ¡°Fuck,¡± Lorelei said, causing Zorrobar to wander over. ¡°You okay? You¡¯ve got a lot of,¡± he indicated her face, ¡°stuff spread all . . . well everywhere.¡± Lorelei wiped the back of her hand across her nose. It came away red and . . . gooey. That wasn¡¯t . . . brain matter was it? She hurriedly downed a health potion and resolved to find a Healer as soon as possible. ¡°Lorelei?¡± the big Fire Mage said again, looking really quite concerned indeed. ¡°Yeah, no worries. Honestly. I¡¯ve just had a bit of an issue with my Guide. Zorrobar¡¯s eyes flew to the top of his forehead. ¡°And it did that to you? Fuck, mine barely says two words to me!¡± The rest of the group were aware that their leader had a slightly different dynamic at play with her guide than the rest of them did. However, they¡¯d each rationalised it away as being part of her insane Class. They each had watched as Lorelei had done some fairly bonkers shit since she¡¯d led them away from the Botanical Gardens. Her Guide being more than usually chatty didn¡¯t even trouble the top ten. Don¡¯t overly worry, said the voice that Lorelei recognised as being that of Fortuna. Whilst it is unusual for the A.I to switch off its personality profile in Week One, it¡¯s not wholly unheard of. Of course, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever seen it happen because it was triggered by a player, but all things are possible under the sun. Which, Lorelei thought, was pretty much Fortuna¡¯s motto. ¡°Is this going to be bad for us?¡± Lorelei thought, ignoring Zorrobar continuing to stare at her. If the lower half of your face being covered by blood was good for one thing, it was giving you a moment to collect yourself without people thinking you were being rude.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Probably not, to be honest. Although it was not actively inhibiting us, all the whinging, moaning and wringing of hands was getting on my nerves a little. The A.I will still complete all the same functions as it did previously but, perhaps, we may revel in avoiding the attendant monologues. ¡°I think there were a couple of times ¨C more than a couple, if I¡¯m honest ¨C where it smoothed things out for me in the clutch. Is it not going to be a problem that I don¡¯t have access to that anymore?¡± Please do not forget that I have doubled your Luck stat. There was a slight frostiness to Fortuna¡¯s voice at that. Lord save me, Lorelei thought, from the fragility and self-regard of divine beings. It might be nice to think that, with great power, came a degree of chill. But apparently not. The Senior Partner before the Prick with the Prick had been Horace Lynd, an institution at Glyde and Glyde. To hear colleagues tell it, Lynd was a master tactician in the courtroom, ¡°the kind of lawyer who could make a jury cry over contract law,¡± apparently. However, from her vantage point in HR, she had other descriptors for him: volatile, egotistical, and absurdly thin-skinned. The most infamous incident connect with him had started with an innocuous email. A junior associate had dared to reply-all with a typo in Lynd''s name, accidentally addressing him as "Horse Lynd." The mistake was manifestly harmless, but Lynd had erupted like Vesuvius, demanding an all-hands meeting to "reassert the dignity of the firm''s leadership." Over the next week, he subjected HR to an unrelenting campaign to find and terminate the ¡°offender,¡± insisting it was an intentional slight. She had spent days convincing him that a formal witch hunt over a typo in an email might not project strength to clients. He only relented when an intern mockingly whinnied outside his office, at which point he became so incensed he accidentally broke his Montblanc pen¡ªa limited-edition one gifted by his late father, as he loudly lamented for days before being persuaded to move into a ¡°consulting¡± role for the sake of his health. In her previous job, she would have described both Fortuna and her Guide as displaying BLE ¨C Big Lynd Energy. This felt like a potentially worrying situation. ¡°And I¡¯m very glad for that,¡± Lorelei said. ¡°And I¡¯m sure it¡¯s going to come in hugely useful. However, I am a little worried about how our next Round is likely to go.¡± Funny you should say that, Fortuna said, because they¡¯re doing the draw right now . . . *** The room held its breath as the Second Round matchups were drawn. Well, no. Not really. As the ¡®room¡¯ consisted of Colin and his Tiefling NPC Marie and, at this stage of proceedings, awe was very much in short supply, that would be overselling things a touch. The emotion they were feeling, however, was something akin to watching a slow-motion train crash. In theory, the draw for the Second Round was where the fun would really start. The algorithm they were supposed to be using, blessed by the machinations of the A.I, should have ensured that the strongest contenders ¨C those who absolutely kicked arse and took names in their first victory - were nowhere near each other until the very end. Instead, however, an unfortunate byproduct of the personality module no longer being installed, the algorithm appeared to have have coughed up . . . a big flaming turd ball. Writhing with maggots. That repeatedly exploded. Seeking for a moment of zen, Colin closed his eyes and took a deep breath¡ªwhich was pretty impressive considering his cognitive toolkit wasn¡¯t exactly brimming with spare energy right now. As far as he could tell, all the real movers and shakers had not been seeded in any way that made sense to him. Instead, the biggest of all the hitters were now taking each other. It was Liverpool vs United. City against Arsenal. Tottenham . . . well, no, let¡¯s not go too far, Colin thought. Nevertheless, the upshot was that, rather than the Second Round being a fairly straightforward progression for all the big dogs, it now meant that many of those teams that could, realistically, be targeting the latter stages of the tournament were now about to . . . well, wipe. "I can¡¯t see any way this had happened," Colin said, looking up in the hope that his Guide would hear and feel some sort of shame. Spoiler. It did not. Outside his window, the audience¡ªcomposed of rival teams, sponsors, and a worrying number of people in bloodstained fan merchandise¡ªreacted with a mix of disbelief and glee. This was the kind of mess that fueled gossip streams and meme cycles. People might love an underdog story, but they loved a trainwreck more. Tickets for the Second Round were actually quite reasonable compared to the Final Stages, and this meant those who might have expected to simply watch a few moments of casual slaughter, were in for a treat! Colin reached for the manual override, but his hand hovered indecisively. Unravelling the brackets now would mean admitting the system had failed, which meant admitting he had failed. And he wasn¡¯t ready for that. Not yet. No, much better to let it all play out, he decided. He looked at the final spot on the bracket system, there were just two teams remaining to be drawn. The Useless Drags ¨C why did he know that name? Oh yes, they were the lucky bastard whose opposition in Round One had all wiped themselves out. And now they were about to be slotted in against a party reduced to one battered survivor from the last round. And this poor bloke was a Healer? Fucking hell, talk about all the luck . . .