Jack slashed through another goblin, his sword carving a bloody line through its body. It collapsed and bled out into the soil. Jack straightened his pose, surveying the battlefield. The flat plains between Holkvil and Gavhin were a breeding ground for monsters and large entities, the Aldarians referred to as “Minibosses.”
Aldarians had their own slang for things. Jack couldn’t bring himself to understand why Aldarians would call a monster that had no underlings a “Boss” or “Miniboss.”
He knew about “Grinding” or “Farming,” which was basically just killing the same weak monsters to increase one’s level. It was frowned on almost universally, but in Jack’s opinion, it was a good way to get experience safely without having to put yourself in much danger. To Aldarians , it was a sign of cowardice. But Jack didn’t hunt simple slime, he fought hard against a Fyrexias a few hours before. He hadn’t even seen one up until that point, if he had been wandering the plains without a weapon, he would certainly be a dead man.
It had only been discovered relatively recently, they were considered a rare sight. The Fyrexias was an unusual creature. It had the body of a fox, but the head of a lizard. The inside of its giant mouth was near boiling, which may not sound nearly as bad as a monster that could breath actual fire, but according to the only recently updated almanac, they could spawn in areas that normally low-level monsters would. They could show up pretty much anywhere. They show up in the middle of your bedroom, if you weren’t careful.
The Fyrexias had prowled for a bit until Jack saw it out of the corner of his eye. The thing had begun to circle him. He was not far from Gavhin, he could try running back, Fyrexias disliked complicated landscapes. But he doubted he would make it before the beast killed him. He took a fighting stance. The Fyrexias pounced. Jack sang his blade, carving a slit in the creature’s belly.
The creature had momentarily not felt pain, but after a few moments of glaring at Jack it began to writhe. Jack sprinted toward it, yelling a sort of battle cry as he thrust his blade toward it. Another interesting thing about Fyrexias, was that on the threat spectrum, they were on the very thin line between predator and prey. Fyrexas were naturally afraid of loud fast opponents. He drove his blade through the creature's neck, killing it instantly. Its body crumbled and disintegrated before his eyes. It gave him a huge amount of experience.
He swung his blade through another slime, a particularly fat one. It blubbered before it popped. Water based. Slimes weren’t particularly aggressive. They were broad across the entire spectrum. Slimes were as big as the amount they eat. They could be as small as a cup of tea, or as large as a house.
A slime couldn't kill you if it is smaller than you unless it is an elemental slime or an infected slime, or unless you laid down and let it suffocate you. Suffocation was the prime killing method of a normal slime. If one managed to swallow you, you were pretty much screwed, unless someone was with you, depending on the slime.
They didn’t have a skeleton or organs, each drop of slime served as the heart, the lungs, the kidney, and other various functions. It did not, however, have a brain.
Centrum vitae. That's what Aldarians called it. The center of life, the core of the slime. If you destroyed its core, the slime would die. Usually, the core would be, at most, a meter in diameter.
Jack’s thoughts were cut off by a distant shout.
“Hey!”
He turned to face the person. A girl with a brown coat and a golden bow ran towards him.
She was pointing it at him.
He lifted his sword in defense, but she fired the arrow anyway.
The arrow, which was originally on a path towards his face, suddenly changed trajectory and curved around his head. Striking something behind him. Jack whirled around. The creature toppled over.
A Rhinock, moments from killing him.
The girl seemed annoyed, “What the hell are you doing out here?”
“What do you think i’m doing?” Jack snapped back, momentarily in awe from the slain beast. “I’m training, what are you doing?”
“Hunting.” She replied. “People don’t come here to train, they come here to hunt. If you aren’t aware already, this place is extremely dangerous for people like you.”
“What do you mean people like me?” Jack asked.
She sighed. “You know what I mean. Villagers, travelers, merchants, whatever you are. Non-Aldarians .”
Jack sheathed his sword, “I’m aware. This isn’t exactly a playground. It's not like I’d just wander into a place like this.”
The girl figeted with her bow. “If you leave, you make my job easier. You die, that looks bad on my record.”
“What if I don’t leave?” Jack asked.
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She shrugged, “It’s not like I’m going to drag you back, kicking and screaming. Also, it's not illegal to fight.”
“I can fight, regardless of what your perception is of us, I can assure you I am in no danger. “
The girl scoffed. “Okay, sure.”
He narrowed his eyes at the girl, she looked about twenty. Know-it-all first generation hero, of course. People who don’t even know what the world is about, people who don’t bother making friends, or becoming a part of the community that they barged in uninvited. They didn’t grow up in the world, suffer hardship or experience growth and maturity. Even second gen Aldarians grew up and understood, appreciated, the world more than that of their parents.
Not only did first generation Aldarians have the appearance of a teenager, but they had the mental maturity of one as well. They were arrogant, ignorant, self-absorbed, and impatient. They treated a hero’s duty not even as a job, but as a chore.
The girl glared at him, as if she could hear what he was thinking.
Jack bit his upper lip. He was young once, everyone he knew was. But the attitude was something he had grown out of long ago. Even second generation Aldarians grew up in the world like everyone else, eventually they accepted their place in society. When Jack met Sheila, any remnant of immaturity was purged once, and for all.
Jack closed his eyes for a minute, it made him sad to think about Sheila and Helen.
The grass crunched beneath the girl's feet as she began to walk away from Jack. “Suit yourself. Also be sure to watch out for the worms.”
Worms?
The girl turned to smile at him. “I’m headed back to town, I'd recommend you come with.
The ground trembled beneath him. He actually felt it. Not a vibrational impact, but as if the ground below him moved.
“You’re not the only one here for experience.” The girl shrugged then resumed walking. “I wouldn’t move if I were you.”
Jack gritted his teeth, the vibration stopped right below him. He could run, or not. He didn’t know how fast the worm was, or if there was even a worm to begin with. It could be some sort of sick joke to intimidate him off the field. But if it really was a joke, she would have told him to come back with her.
Jack took a cautious step forward.
The world enveloped around him. No suspense, no moment of false relief, no chance of escape.
A sphere of a mouth, the size of a carriage. It slammed shut above his head. The ground rotated beneath him.
Jack panicked, squirming as the ground and the toothed ceiling came closer and closer. He didn’t scream. Part of him wasn’t afraid. Part of him felt ready to fight.
Suddenly, everything was quiet, then he heard a voice inside his head.
This is your fate Jack. Twisted and torn, a hero is born and a villain is scorned.
Jack writhed. The worm enveloped him, the dirt closed in, almost burying him alive.
The king of worms. He senses a dark danger around you, eating, swallowing, dissolving. You will accept, and perish. Or you fight, to live, breathe, to ascend.
The king of worms? The king of worms was just a legend, a myth. The king of worms could unlock one's greatest fear, giving utter darkness. Was this the king of worms? It couldn’t be, the worm was too small. The king of worms was said to be as big as the mountains.
He wanted to scream, but couldn’t. He lost his opportunity to open his mouth moments ago.
He saw his life flash before his eyes, not his past, but his future. He saw himself hanged, decapitated, drowned, thrown off cliffs, mountains. What a fool he was before, what a fool he was.
Not anymore.
He spread his arms, legs out. He gave a guttural growl in anger. Not begging or asking to be freed, he demanded it. Not a hollow demand, undeserved, one of necessity and righteousness.
His growl turned to a roar, he felt the handle of his shovel on his hand, the pressure growing around him. With all of his strength, he jabbed it downward. The sound of the worm choking almost blew his eardrums. Finally, the worm complied, spitting him up like mucus. He flipped over and over and over. The sun, the sky, the ground.
The worm.
He landed in a path of weeds, rolling to a stop at a nearby rock.
The girl stared down at him. “You’re… you’re…”
He got up, brushed his shirt and pant, then stared her dead in the eyes.
“You’re alive!” she stuttered, in astonishment.
He almost tore into her about not saving him, but he realized that it didn’t matter. People like her couldn’t be entrusted with the lives of others. A truth that he found too late.
“It- it’s dead… right? Please tell me. It’s dead?” the girl's voice trembled.
But enough of being stuck in the past, if Sheila and Helen were still here, alive, they would be cheering for him, telling him to move on. He remembered Wyatt told him the same thing right before he died. If he was going to make a change, it would have to be now. He had made a promise, Bel needed him. If he didn’t act soon, he would be making the same mistake twice.
He glared at her.
“I- I- I was j- joking about the… W- worm. I- I can’t believe it’s real, I-”
“Why don't you eat your words and wash them down with a side of saliva? Why don't you put that bow to good use, hang up your uniform and call it quits?”
The girl glared back at Jack, it was a glare no doubt, but it was a glare not of just frustration, but respect. Something he couldn’t give less of a bother about receiving from people like her, but it was a good feeling.
She said nothing, and Jack left it at that. The glow of his body has ascended several levels, as he made his way back to Gavhin.
There was no more time to be wasted.