Zenos opened his eyes. He was laying on his stomach on the forest floor, his face full of leaves. He scanned the HUD: HP 680 (679). His well-fed buff was still in effect, but his Eyes of the Emperor ability had ended.
he thought as he pressed up onto his knees. His left arm and leg ached, but the broken bones and torn muscles had healed. Even his dislocated shoulder had locked back into place. It appeared combat had ended and limited restoration had restored mobility.
The automaton’s torn arm was left among the leaves near Zenos. Its three-fingered bronze hand was still closed like a fist, and its mithril rope of synthetic muscles had coiled where it fell. Zenos got up and stumbled on his left leg, but he could stand well enough.
Zenos turned. The automaton was gathering leaves some distance away, a task made all the more difficult without its left arm. It picked up three or four birch leaves in its claw-like fingers, but most fell through its grip. Zenos gripped his knife and limped toward it.
Since the automatons were passive unless attacked, it didn’t react to his approach. Even when he stood right beside it, it continued the then-impossible task of leaf piling. It made no sound, but for the clack of the gears in its chest. It made no expression, for its faceless head was cast in solid bronze. Zenos grabbed its open chest cavity with his hand and drove his knife at its heart. That ‘heart’—an amethyst colored gem wrapped in mithril coils—was the automaton’s primary power source. Its health dropped drastically when the knife blade severed its mithril veins.
[Critical hit.]
[Critical hit.]
Zenos paid no attention to the details of his prompts. Before the automaton could react, he had cut the gem from its wires. Without that core—so intrinsic to its function—the automaton halted immediately. Zenos pushed and it fell on its back like a sack of wheat.
[Target is dead. Combat has ended.]
[You have leveled up.]
[You have leveled up.]
[You have leveled up.]
[Three level ups are waiting for you.]
“I’m sorry,” he said to the heap of bronze and mithril. “That felt cheap.”
Zenos turned the gem in his hand and he noticed a peculiar light that moved within. It beamed, like sunlight through water. There was liquid—perhaps mana—trapped within a cavity. Its power was apparent to his eyes even without his mana sensing.
[???? ???] The system recognized it, but didn’t identify its name.
“Maybe Mad will know something,” he thought aloud and pushed the gem into his pant pocket.
Zenos made a cautious approach. There was no lock on the latch, so he could lift the lid by its handle. He considered his options. The chest could be booby trapped, but that was unlikely considering the location. The chest could have been dropped from an aerial ship, which Zenos had seen once before, but that was also unlikely given he had heard no noise overhead. There were two other possibilities; that it was a mimic, a type of magical creature that copied inanimate objects to hunt prey, or Mad was playing a trick on him.
Zenos didn’t know if mimics existed in Adohas, but he couldn’t rule it out. The most likely answer was that Mad was pranking him. In that case, he was a good sport. He opened the chest’s lid.
Darkness. The chest was empty, but even stranger, he couldn’t see the bottom. It was as if there was a hole in Adohas and on the other side of world was a black realm of pitiless shadow. Zenos would have closed the lid immediately, but he heard a voice. He did not hear the words with his ears, or sense them through telepathy, but he knew the voice was there. It was a woman and she was calling to him.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Zenos dropped his knife among the leaves and tossed the lid open. He grabbed the container by its edge and plunged his right hand inside. He reached, first through the cold shadow, and then into the deepest black, where his arm was submerged in frigid water. A slick hand gripped his elbow and another grabbed him by the wrist. His HUD flickered as he struggled against them. Something was placed in Zenos’ hand. The hands released his arm.
He pushed himself from the chest and pulled the object from the container. After he fell against the leaves, the chest began to rattle. Its iron split and its wood crunched together as it folded into a black orb. When the chest had been consumed, the orb that floated ahead of Zenos melted into a new shape. It took on the form of a thin fragment and dropped to the forest floor.
Zenos realized he was panting. His eyes startled open. “What happened?” he wondered aloud. “I opened the chest and then… and then… I can’t remember. I heard a voice. What’s this in my hand?”
[Longsword of the Novice] a new prompt read.
[Quality: 100.]
[Damage: 50.]
[Level requirement: 10.]
[Additional Effect: Increase experience gain by 50% (1% after level 50.)]
There was a four-foot sword in Zenos’ hand. It had a silver blade, a long undecorated handguard, and a black leather handle. It felt comfortable, it balanced well in his hand, and the sword was light given its length. He stood and gave it a few practice swings.
Zenos cut the air. He slashed up and down, twirled the blade and cut again to his left. He curved the sword up, spun on his heel, and brought the blade down with the turn of his body. It thunked loudly against a birch trunk.
[0 damage dealt] the system reported.
[Level requirement not met] flashed bright red before his eyes.
“I guess I’m only level 8,” he said and turned his head up. The sky was turning colors. “But it’s late… I’ll have a chance to test this later.”
Zenos placed the sword in his inventory and picked the knife off the ground. The black shard remained among the leaves, seethed with shadow like languid flame. He put his hand to it and it didn’t burn to the touch, so he grabbed the shard.
[!@#$&%^@*#]
It was different from the obfuscation of question marks. The item name was obstructed with the same bizarre symbols that occupied his ‘quest reward.’ Zenos tested it against his inventory and sure enough it passed through the screen. Its icon appeared as a question mark in the inventory listing.
he thought as he turned toward the mountain trail.
As Zenos left, he passed the slain automaton. Several others had already gathered around it. They had piled wilted birch leaves into its gear-filled chest cavity.
It was late when Zenos returned to camp, but there was still faint daylight to walk by. Mad was by the fire, tending to a fresh pan of stew.
“I got it,” Zenos said as he came up behind Mad. He dropped the gem in his lap. “That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”
Mad closed one eye and turned the gem in the firelight. The bright liquid splashed within. Zenos took a seat across the fire and by Mad’s expression, he knew the seasoned adventurer could see the gem’s glow.
“Good,” Mad said. “You removed it cleanly, but….” He glowered at Zenos. “You were out there all day.”
Zenos made a nervous smile. “It… was a long fight.”
“Those things aren’t usually dangerous,” Mad said. He paid attention to his stew. “But they can still kill you if you aren’t careful.”
Zenos nodded.
“Just don’t try too hard,” Mad said. “You might have had two lives, Zenos, but don’t expect a third one.”
Zenos couldn’t tell him about the player system. Even if he let it slip under the guise of being a ‘chosen one’, he had no way of knowing what that could mean to Mad. The chosen ones, who had power second only to the gods, were idolized by the NPCs. They were also feared.
“I understand,” he said and lowered his head. “I’ll be more cautious in the future.”
Mad smiled and Zenos felt a little relief to see him in his good spirits. “Excellent, because you’re going back there,” he said.
Zenos blinked. “You’ve lost me.”
“The Adventurer’s Guild doesn’t raid every day,” he said. “Some days they harvest from the inactive dungeons, but most of the time the guild prepares writs for them to accept. Those writs, which could be bounties, notices, or requests for help, form the bulk of our work. The act of accepting one turns the writ into a quest. Questing, that’s what it means to be an adventurer.”
Zenos nodded. He felt an age had passed since he’d heard one of Mad’s lectures, and to hear one again evoked a small smile.
“I’m going to give you a real quest,” Mad said. “As a Gold Rank, I have that authority.”
“Gold Rank?”
“Bronze, Silver, Gold, Mithril, and Adamantine…” Mad clarified. “Those are the five ranks of the guild. There are grades within those ranks, and I stand at Grade S. You could say I’m at the pinnacle of my rank, so I have certain administrative powers.”
Zenos pointed at himself. “What rank would you say I’m at?”
“Below bronze.” Mad laughed. “You’re still a novice.”
Zenos frowned.
“But I want to change that,” Mad added. “I’m going to give you a quest. Bring me twenty gems, and in return I’ll give you something nice.”
Zenos’ brows perked up.
“Twenty automatons?” he asked.
“Twenty,” Mad said. “But the reward will be great, I promise.”
“If I defeat twenty automatons, will I be ready to raid the dungeon?”
Mad set his eyes on the stew, stirred the pan of brown chunks with the ladle. His smile waned. He said nothing.
“Mad,” Zenos said.
“If you can defeat twenty, perhaps you could be some help after all,” he said. “Do you think you’re up to the task?”
Zenos removed Mad’s knife from a loop in his belt. He took it by its blade and reached over the fire. “Here,” Zenos said.
“Going at it with your fists?” Mad asked and took the knife by the handle.
Zenos smirked.
“I have a plan.”