Time slowed to a crawl as Frank’s consciousness began to fade. My life is flashing before my eyes… I guess I am about to die, a lazy thought passed through his mind, his lips split in a bitter smile. Suddenly, a vivid memory overpowered the rest: he got separated from his squad by falling into a river. Injured, hungry, and tired, he was stuck behind enemy lines. It was certain death. But he pushed through, day after day he would drag himself forward. It was an arduous journey, good enough to be a plot of some Hollywood movie, but in the end, he survived.
That’s right! I’ve clawed my way out of Hell back then, I won’t give up now. I refuse to die here! The surge of determination brought him back to the present. Frank opened his eyes only to see the goblin in the same position as before. There was no time to marvel at the speed one’s mind could operate at, in extreme circumstances. A sword appeared in his left hand and shot upwards at the goblin. Unfortunately, he truly had no strength left; his hand fell on his chest before even reaching half-way to its target.
The goblin plunged its sword toward Frank’s chest. The dull sound of metal impacting wood rang out, and the goblin nearly lost its balance, as its weapon skidded along the surface of a small shield. It straightened out and kicked Frank in the head. Frank groaned, as his vision grew blurry. He felt the shield he had summoned at the last moment get ripped out of his hand. The same happened to the weapon he summoned previously.
Another kick to the head followed before the goblin bent down and placed its hand on Frank’s throat. The fingers squeezed and his body jerked, as it struggled for air. Maintaining its chokehold, the goblin lifted its weapon and plunged it into Frank’s stomach. His body curled into a fetal position, as he coughed up a fountain of blood. The goblin pulled out the blade and prepared to attack again.
Frank was on the brink of death, yet he refused to give up. I need to break his contact, Frank thought, his mind was surprisingly clear, as the flow of time slowed again. The Spatial Rings became inaccessible if one was in physical contact with a monster, and if he was to survive, he would definitely need a weapon.
He struggled to open his profile and switch to the Grids tab. There, he found his salvation. 26 GP! He put 20 GP into the Die Hard II grid, bringing it to 30/100. The two attribute points were added to D magic, which immediately increased his D mana by 20, enough to cast two Lightning Bolts. Frank lifted his index finger, pointing it at the goblin and cast the first Lightning Bolt. The goblin froze in place under the effect of the stun. Frank pushed at the monster’s arm, trying to dislodge its hands from his throat, but with no avail, he was too weak. Using the goblin’s arm as leverage, he lifted his head, his mouth wide open, and latched on the goblin’s arm.
The monster jerked in response and yanked its hand back. Frank felt some of his teeth get ripped out of his mouth, but he ignored the pain and cast another Lightning Bolt. The stun effect would be even shorter this time, he knew. Agonizingly slowly, his hand moved toward one of the goblin’s legs. He rested the blade’s edge against the side of the goblin’s knee, then pulled the sword back while pressing the blade against the flesh, as if he was cutting a loaf of bread. The goblin fell to its knee, squeaking angrily. It propped itself up on one arm and stabbed at Frank’s face. Frank’s weapon was also slowly moving toward the goblin, however, he would get hit first.
The goblin’s attack suddenly halted, a spray of fresh blood splashing onto Frank, as an icicle embedded itself into the monster’s face. A second later, Frank plunged his weapon into the monster’s chest. He let go of the sword and his left hand fell by his side, trembling. His chest moved up and down, a wheezing sound accompanying his labored breathing.
“Hey, are you still alive?” He heard Amy’s voice before her familiar face entered his field of vision.
“You came back,” he wanted to say, but all that came out was a weak cough, bloody foam forming on his lips.
“Use Meditation. You have to survive, you hear me? You have to,” Amy told him, her hands balled into fists as she looked at his sorry state.
“Fi… ish gob… s,” Frank tried to speak again despite her words. He had to tell her, lest all their efforts went to waste.
Amy looked at him in confusion. Suddenly, her attention was pulled towards one of the goblins when it stirred.
“Ah, you want me to finish the goblins. Good idea,” she said and smiled at Frank. She got up and moved to finish off the goblins he incapacitated.
Frank sighed in relief, the worst outcome would be if Amy got caught unaware by one of the goblins after the monster’s injuries were healed. A coughing fit overtook him, his body trembling weakly. Meditation won’t help, my regen is too slow, he thought, while activating the skill. Laying on his back, he gazed at the sky. The life ebbed out of him, but he refused to close his eyes and give up, even as he knew his effort was futile. Suddenly, a panel appeared in his vision, blocking the sky.
You have learned a new skill: Grit, level 1: Some people simply refuse to die, using sheer will to survive. In order to get this skill, one must keep fighting while being on the brink of death. In other words, you are weak. Get stronger or you’ll die prematurely. This skill restores all four resources by 25.5%. It can be activated at any time, and will automatically activate when HP hits zero. Cooldown: 12 hours. Additionally, Vitality is tripled for 1 minute, for the purpose of calculating Bleed and the rate of healing. Bleed has no minimum duration while the skill is in effect.
Frank was still reading the skill’s description when it activated:
HP: 104/408 (234/hour)
Stamina: 49/175 (450/hour)
D Mana: 37/140 (152/hour)
R Mana: 38/130 (212/hour)
His resources shot by a fourth and his breathing became less labored. Unfortunately, his HP began to dwindle at an alarming rate. He cast Healing Touch, followed by two Lesser Heals. However, the restored HP quickly vanished as well.
Aw, what the heck? Frank thought dejectedly. The sky filled his vision again, as he struggled to stay alive. However, it seemed the biggest benefit Grit conveyed was not the resources it restored, but the increase to Vitality and removal of the minimum duration for Bleed. Just a few seconds had passed when Frank felt his injuries begin to heal. By the time Amy returned he was fully healed, though his HP remained at zero.
“Huh? What did you do?” Amy asked, shocked to see Frank get up.
“Got a new skill. Anyway, we need to get out of here before more goblins show up,” Frank told her, as his gaze swept their surroundings. After making sure no monsters were coming, he opened the Map tab of his profile. “Fuck, the others are still a mile away,” he couldn’t help swearing, “let’s move toward them.”
“Some of the others escaped as well,” Amy informed him.
“Yeah, but none are close to us,” Frank replied, as the two broke into a run.
***
Roger felt his heart tighten. This is a disaster, he thought as he stared at the Battle Group list. Out of the original fifty members, fifty-two if you count Tom and the other scout that joined them, there were only nine survivors. Eight, Roger thought bitterly as a small skull marked another name. His thoughts were in total disarray.
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He blamed himself for not ordering everyone to move out together, for not vetoing Kareem’s proposal, for not organizing his people better. He had many regrets, but there was nothing he could do about it now. The cruel reality was nearly a third of the people he commanded were lost. Not only that, but those were the most active, most battle-hungry among them. With them gone, they no longer had enough to assault the goblin’s base.
“Come on everyone, we’re almost there!” He shouted toward the column running behind him. His eyes swept over Carol, Kareem, and Steve who were running beside him. “We’ll split up when we reach the spot. You three will each take two teams and rescue survivors, I’ll lead the rest to smash the remaining goblins.
The three responded affirmatively and slowed down to gather their teams. Roger glanced at the Battle Group list again and sighed in relief, at least the remaining eight seemed stable, none of them losing HP.
Soon, they ran into Frank and Amy. Someone moved to use Healing Touch on the old man, but he waved them off: “Save your mana for the battle,” he said. The two survivors moved toward the back of the column and out of Roger’s view. He gritted his teeth and rushed forward.
They were approaching the battlefield, when the other three split up from the main group, while Roger led the rest forward. Less than a minute later, they reached their destination – human and monster corpses were strewn all over, a dozen goblins were mulling around. Angry shouts shook the air, as everyone rushed the monsters. Spells and arrows were sent out, while fighters used Dash to close the distance. It was a short battle, as the goblins were quickly wiped out.
“There might be more of them, so stay alert,” Roger shouted. He sent a message informing the others of their victory.
On the map, he watched the three splinter groups reunite with the remaining survivors. They encountered some goblins, but the monsters were easily dispatched. Soon, everyone gathered together on the battlefield.
“Loot the goblins, and take the bodies of our people, we’ll give them a proper burial,” Roger ordered.
“What are we going to do now?” Kareem asked him, his face grim.
“It’s starting to get dark, we need to return to our base. We can plan our next move tomorrow,” Roger informed him. Our next move? He mocked himself. What next move? At best, we might be able to hang on under the goblins’ assault. There is no longer any hope for us. He wished for a ‘reset’ button with all his heart, unfortunately, in life, there were no do-overs.
***
The trek home was somber – a heavy atmosphere surrounded the silent, slow-moving group. Everyone was occupied by their own thoughts. For Frank, it meant replaying the battle in his head, over and over. Could they survive if they tried to break through and run immediately upon engaging? What if they split up before the goblins caught up to them? Should they have reinforced the diplomacy party, instead of attacking the mine?
The whole thing stirred some very unpleasant memories in Frank’s heart. Following someone dumb orders, watching comrades die, being powerless to do anything but try to survive. The flashback of his time in Vietnam was painful. I promised myself that I would never find myself in such a situation again, yet here I am, he thought. A mix of dejection, bitterness, hopelessness, and depression overcame him, his eyes turning moist.
The mood didn’t improve by much once they reached the base. Normally, Frank would’ve done some training, however, he had no motivation to do so today. He went to the river to wash away the blood, his own, and that belonging to others. Upon return, he decided to just go to bed – there was no point in stewing into his current despair.
His sleep wasn’t peaceful. Flashbacks from the time he spent in Vietnam mixed with the more recent memories to create one hell of a nightmare. He woke up covered in sweat and decided not to go back to sleep, despite it being just 4 a.m. He laid with his eyes closed, wondering about the future. He was well aware that to survive in his current circumstances, he needed a powerful goal. Something to strive and push for, to use as a beacon to guide him through the darkness of despair.
What do I want to do? Frank asked himself. He had lived a full life and achieved many goals. When the System came, he was just enjoying what little time had left, doing some traveling, and whatnot. For a while, he focused on getting stronger to survive, which was still applicable, but made for a rather empty goal. He needed a reason to want to survive, beyond the base instinct. Hmm, I am not obsessed with power for power’s sake, nor do I care to fight endless legions of monsters. I do want to be strong enough so I can protect my friends, perhaps even people at large. Mm, I’d like to find out why the System came to be, maybe kill those responsible for it.
Frank stretched his body, his eyes opened and stared into the pre-dawn sky. Become strong, protect my friends and those I come into contact, and learn why the System came into existence, is that it? Not exactly groundbreaking, but learning more about the origins of the System is a good long term goal, Frank reasoned. I guess it’s a good start, I can just amend it if I find something more worthwhile in the future.
His mind set, he got up and left the base, walking toward his usual training spot some two hundred yards away. He had just exited the base when his eyes were drawn to a lone figure in the distance. Frank changed his course as he beelined for the man.
“I’m surprised to see you out here,” Frank said as he waved to the man.
“One must train even harder after a loss,” Gabriel replied, “and I’ve got some steam I needed to work out.”
“Don’t we all,” Frank agreed. “You shouldn’t blame yourself for what happened. We should've never committed to a full attack without gaining more information on the goblins.”
“Even if that's true, the weight of their deaths lies on my shoulders,” Gabriel shook his head. “If I was stronger…”.
“That’s a dark path to go down. Nothing can change the past, all you can do is push ahead,” Frank said, his gaze turning mournful. “But, we should all strive to become stronger, otherwise, we won’t survive the battles to come.”
The two exchanged some more words before Frank left – he didn’t want to spar, not yet at least. Once he reached his usual spot, he began to train. In addition to the usual skill spam, he made sure to practice some of the skills he’d been neglecting, like Running, Sprinting, Dash, and Metal Shards, as well as wielding the saber in his left hand. He continued to train until 8 a. m. when Amy came to collect him.
“You’re back to training,” she commented with a sad half-smile.
“An idle mind is the devil's workshop,” Frank replied. “Besides, I need to get stronger, as do you.”
“I’ll need more time to sort myself out.”
“I understand,” Frank said, choosing not to voice his thought that they had no time to spare. If her emotions are in turmoil, telling her to train wouldn’t do any good anyway, he reasoned.
They returned to the base and had breakfast. He noted Carol’s absence, apparently, the woman spent the night sobbing and was now holed up in one of the shacks. He didn’t think she was at fault, not for most of the group getting killed, anyway. But he understood why she would blame herself. If anything, it’s Kareem’s fault, he was the one who pushed for us to attack blindly, Frank thought, his hands tightened into fists. He made a conscious effort to unclench his fists. It’s pointless to blame him now, but I should remember that his decisions can be suspect and act accordingly in the future.
A meeting was called after breakfast. Unlike the previous ones, it was attended by everyone, except the children. They sat in a circle, with Roger, Steve, Kareem, and Carol sitting in the middle. Once everyone took their place, Roger stood up and began the meeting.
“We’ve gathered here today to decide the future direction of this group. With the deaths of forty-eight of our members, we probably can’t contend with the goblins,” Roger declared.
“I want everyone to know that I was the one who insisted on launching an attack. As such, the blame for their deaths should be mine,” Kareem said after he got up.
“However, I was the one chosen to lead, the decision to agree to your plan was ultimately mine,” Roger retorted.
“Looking for a scapegoat won’t do us any good. The two of you have acknowledged your errors, that’s all you can do,” Frank said loudly.
“You think that’s enough?” Someone questioned in an angry voice.
“And what would you suggest? Even if you were to execute them both, the only thing you’d accomplish is to reduce the number of able fighters by two. How will that make things better?” Frank retorted.
“Even so, I don’t see how the Marshall can lead us, given what has happened,” an old woman said.
“I agree. I no longer have your confidence, trying to lead without it would be pointless,” Roger said.
The people stirred, whoever was selected to lead them would determine their future. Various shouts filled the air, as everyone began to talk at once.
“Then who will lead us?” “How about you, Gabriel?” “It should be Carol.” And others were shouted out.
“Let me stop you, I am no good at leading. You should choose someone else,” Gabriel said, putting a kibosh on his candidacy.
“It’s the same for me. My decision led to the deaths of four people. It might not have mattered given the eventual outcome, but it matters to me,” Carol said, shaking her head.
“How about you, Steve?” Someone asked.
“Oh, Hell no. You not gonna put all that responsibility on me,” Steve exclaimed.
For a while, everyone was silent, as they tried to think of a good nominee. It couldn’t just be anyone, it had to be someone whom the rest knew and would follow. Some gazes locked onto Frank, but he raised his hands in front of him, indicating he wasn’t interested.
“Um, what if we form a council? Say seven people, or nine, or something?”
“We are, essentially, at war. We need a supreme commander who’s able to make decisions on the fly, not a bickering council,” Frank said. With everyone’s attention on him, he stared at Steve. “Face it, Steve, it’s going to have to be you. Among our past leaders, you’re the only one who is free of blame for what happened,” he said.
“What ya’ mean, past leaders. I ain’t led nobody,” Steve exclaimed, visibly agitated.
“If you don’t step up, we’ll end up leaderless. If that happens, we’ll have no chance of surviving,” Frank said and smiled at the man.
“Then why don’t you step up?!” Steve asked, unwilling to accept.
“I’ve no interest in leading,” Frank replied nonchalantly.
“God damn you, old man,” Steve mumbled under his breath. “Fine, I’ll step up. But don’t y’all dare blame me for what happens,” he exclaimed. After a brief silence, he spoke: “Then, let us decide on what we gonna do.”