Though the day had made him very tired, Rushvatte forced himself to roam Zurefgar in the night. At least, he aimed to get the bear form before playing more tomorrow. He also picked a bit early time to play, right after dusk prayer, to avoid meeting Manna that would definitely pester him.

Though, Rusvhatte somehow felt that Tier might have the higher chance to be pestered by Manna lately. It was kind of a relief to be honest.

The problem was that Rushvatte didn’t find any wizard around his location when he logged in and he had to travel all the way to Grandar to find any. He would be lucky if he could find any in the middle of the road.

At least the ambient silent lush savannah kinda made him feel better during the whole journey. The only thought that disturb him was that he would need to spend money for people to open a portal for him. Other than that, everything feels eerily quiet today. He barely saw any elves and some undead looked at him questioningly.

The answer presented itself when Rushvatte almost reached Cliff Labyrinth, where he saw a camp of elven players shouting to people.

“Don’t go to Grandar! Orcs’ and elves are being hostile to each other. Those not under peace ambassador status, quickly get into the portal!”

Fate was just today, as Rushvatte was tortured the whole day and now he had been paid with kindness. The portal was part of an emergency, but who cares? What he needed was the portal made by those players who are definitely under peace ambassador status.

It was also at that time Rushvatte felt being treated unfairly because one of the requirements for new players to register for Clashing Realms was to never use the peace ambassador status.

“Watchout! Behind you, an orc!”

Rushvatte was startled by the warning given by the players. He glanced quickly but couldn’t see what chased him, thus he could only sped up.

“Quick, into the portal.”

“For real…,” Rushvatte cursed under his breath. This was the problem with peace ambassadors. Unless aggression was done first, they can’t attack the aggressor. What a bunch of useless cowards. If they weren’t so kind as to open a portal, Rushvatte definitely would be pissed off even more.

“Step aside!”

Rushvatte roared, his tiger leaped above the elves and got into the portal.

He was blinded for a moment and stopped his mount. The howling wind of night savannah disappeared, replaced by the sound of a bustling city and light steps.

Thick aura of magic was felt across all directions but they did not have any sort of overwhelming pressure. It was soft, gentle, mild, and yet energising. He was there, in Elian, the magical city of the elves whose structures resemble those magical fantasy cities in stories and fictions. There were high towers and buildings with sharp domes everywhere. High walls were erected to enclose the city. Every road was paved by bricks. Every colour that painted the city was bright and glowed softly. It was beautiful, orderly, and clear. It indeed felt like a location from a fairy tale.

And all this beauty was only a part of the city, named the Order Quarter.

“Wow! So this is the capital of the elves.”

Rushvatte shuddered when he heard the voice next to him. It was Macepaw. “Why are you here?”

“Oh, I was calling you back there, but you didn’t hear me, so I jumped into the portal like you.”

“Man, orcs and elves are currently being hostile to each other!”

“Hostile?”

“Orc!!!”

Some elven player yelled, they pointed at Macepaw. Some elven guard NPC, who were wearing crimson plate armor, rushed towards the shaman.

“Run, Vin, run!”

“Moommyyyy!”

Macepaw almost lost his head when he narrowly avoided a glaive thrown by one of the guards. He panicked and dashed haphazardly, crashing to vendor NPCs and low level players alike. Which definitely enraged everyone even more to chase the lost orc.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“Gi help me, help!”

“I can’t!”

Weapons and magic manifestations were thrown everywhere. The chaos caused items, fruits, and vegetables flying around which obscured Rushvatte’s view in looking for a way out.

Then he saw it, one portal was opened by God knows who. Rushvatte roared at Macepaw, “There, on your right, near the bird food kiosk, there’s a portal!”

“Okay!”

Macepaw passed the portal quite far then turned left, avoiding an attack from a rogue.

“I said right! Right!”

“Yes, I am going right!”

Macepaw turned left again, almost crashing into a magically powered lamp post.

Rushvatte smashed his face with his palms, he protested in despair, “You mad blockhead, don’t you know what is right?”

“Talk is easy, control is hard!”

Rushvatte was about to give up when he saw the mad shaman turn left again. But then, he realised that the orc was dashing towards the portal ny turning left three times. That’s kinda genius.

However, the shaman’s stroke of luck ended abruptly when a wizard managed to freeze his long legged goat’s feet. The sudden stop had caused Macepaw to be thrown off from his goat. All hope seemed lost.

Unless Rushvatte decided to act. And so he did.

“Vin! Brace yourself!”

Rushvatte and his tiger roared. He drove the beast to dash as fast as possible towards Macepaw. He saw a chance as Macepaw’s trajectory should have brought the shaman pretty close to the portal. What Rushvatte needed to do was a simple alley-oop.

Rushvatte’s tiger roared once more when it jumped over several elven players. Rushvatte himself jumped from his tiger to push Macepaw into the portal. The problem was, Rushvatte was unable to control his movement and both of them fell into it.

The aura that suddenly felt by Rushvatte was the complete opposite of what he felt in Elian. The current place emitted a chilling touch that forced him to shudder right after he finished rolling on the ground because of the momentum from his action.

“Ouchie,” Macepaw grunted. “Thanks for the safe.”

“Yeah, whatever, man,” Rushvatte snorted.

“That was the craziest portal arrival that I ever witnessed, buddy.”

A not so familiar voice greeted them. Rushvatte stood up and realised he was in a very strange place that he had never seen before. It was a dark and gloomy version of a medieval human city. The sky was under a weird overcast, the air was sickening, the city seemed abandoned but there was no sign of mold, the torches were dim blue like those of spirit fire, and there were skeletons as well as bloodstains here and there.

“Where are we?” Rushvatte asked Zackhs, the one who greeted them.

The now level 49 avenger patted Rushvatte and Macepaw. “Welcome to Rottendor, the capital city of the plagued ones.”

“Whoa! I’ve never been here before! So cool.”

Macepaw was ecstatic while Rushvatte's heart sank. Now he needed to find a way to get a portal to Elian just after he finally arrived for free at the elven capital.

“Of course it is!” Zackhs was somehow as happy as Macepaw. Something was not right with this guy. “This is the coolest capital around.”

Macepaw chuckled, “No, no, each capital has their own aesthetics. Each is beautiful in its own way.”

“To the hell with the coolest capital, how can I reach Elian safely? I need to get my second form!” Rushvatte raged. He then saw a wizard player and approached the person.

“Hey, man, how much is a portal to Elian?”

The undead wizard chuckled, “100 gold if you have the portal stone. 150 if not.”

“What the…, it just cost you MP.”

“Basic supply and demand, you need that don’t you?”

“Forget it, you capitalist freak!”

Rushvatte raged again, then looked around but no one was paying attention when he asked for a portal.

Finally Zackhs suggested to him, “How about the ship?”

“Show me the way.”

“With pleasure, buddy.”

Zackhs summoned his skeletal horse and gestured to the other two to follow him. They dashed through the big and small roads of Rottendor, passing several wizards that insisted on making Rushvatte pay for an overpriced portal.

At this point Rushvatte felt whatever Pras did earlier today to Mana was much kinder. He never knew dead men were greedier than living ones. Perhaps these people were cursed to undeath because they were that greedy.

“Here we go, to the docks!” Zackhs exclaimed with joy as they reached the docks. “Don’t worry Rushvatte, the next ship to Elian should be here at any moment.”

A loud crackle was heard from the sea ust as Zackhs claimed that. There, Rushvatte saw two ships shooting cannons at each other. One was definitely orcish ships due to its rough form. The other bears the leaf shield banner of the elves.

Rushvatte watched with dread as the elven ship was definitely the one losing the battle while Macepaw cheered for the superior orcish warship. It was not long until the elven ship split in two and sank into the dark gloomy sea.

“Don’t worry, buddy, I will accompany you until the next ship is here.”

Zackhs tried his best to reassure Ruishvatte with all the positivity he could muster from the gloomy air, complete with a double thumbs up.

However, the avenger didn’t realise it meant nothing for Rushvatte. Nothing actually mattered now, as Rushvatte dismounted from his tiger, lay down on the cold floors of Rottendor’s docks, and cower in the fetal position.