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Volume 3
Chapter 37: A Forgotten King
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There’s still a little more than two minutes before the «Artemis MOD» lose its activation.
It would be a day after that he could use it again.
He doesn’t have time.
Using its «triple stats» effect, he burst of his stamina and full throttled ignored the warning that flying in the sky would attract Sky Wyverns.
Again, he doesn’t have time. He ignored everything, he ignored it all.
His Flight Armor had reached its maximum horizontal speed of 500km/hr and he wouldn’t lie to say that he’s feeling a little scared now.
Not scared by the fact of monsters or colliding into a tall tree in this dim darkness, but scared because he’s feeling the sense of vertigo pulling his consciousness away. It's like this feeling of being sucked somewhere deep and dark, without knowing if you'll ever come back in the surface of your consciousness.
Is this going to trigger that effect again? He argued to himself but still continued to fly and hover at the verge of the limitation he set to himself.
The creeping sensation hasn’t left his skin. He could feel the tense vibe of danger coming almost everywhere.
But it wasn’t in the level that monsters give, no, it’s like the sensation of having your neck being grabbed by a cold silent hand in the middle of your sleep. And then it would wake you up in a jolt but you can't move your body, not even a finger, and the first face you'll see is the horror that gave you that ill intent.
That kind of scary feeling.
It makes him wary. It makes him very, very aware that there is a high level of danger somewhere.
Still, he followed the general straight direction where he remembered they came. His eyes eagerly, steadily, scanning the dark forest land just a few tens of meters below him and for a good sense of distance, he relied on his feeling to find the few landmarks he consciously trying to remember.
From here and there, he saw a few of them, changing his direction and gliding, flying passed them and fast.
His mind worked at the vengeance of his heart. He feel his wrath hugging his mind, forgetting the small detail where his friends discovered his secret.
By now, perhaps, they might have been going straight home. His heart felt like being torn apart and pinched with millions of swords, not needles, every time he’d think that he kept his secret from them.
But he had a reason for doing so.
In this drifting thought of his friends, he recalled the day he met them and the exact feeling he had felt then.
Gratitude. Loneliness. Guilt. Anxiety. Fear. Happiness. Concern. Sadness. Respect. Familiarity. These feelings swirled in his chest all at the same time.
He felt gratitude to fate that he was allowed to have friends again. Loneliness on the thought that the old ones he had had been left behind. Guilt for the fact that he had to hide his identity from them. Anxiety on the though of being found out, both by his friends and by the people who had his neck.
With his anxious thoughts came the fear.
What if something happens to them if AG found out?
He was happy, yes, that he found good people who wasn’t like the others who ask many questions before they even try to accept him.
Matt and the others were kind enough to trust him with nothing else but his name to rely.
He was concerned if he was pulling them down from their job as adventurers-for-hire that’s why he tried his best not to be agitated so that he wouldn’t attract strong monsters on their tail.
And through those days that he hid his identity, these conflicting emotions swirled on the sadness that he felt.
Because he was sure, he feared, he was concerned, that when these good people found out his secret, and even perhaps the reason why he’s hiding the secret and that it would certainly lead them to finding out who he was, he felt sad that he had to someday part ways with them.
What if it’s permanent?
That thought deeply saddened him more.
He respect the integrity of their decision and the reason that they accepted him so easily. Rex Kingsley knew, as he only pretended to not, that Matthew, Rio, Anna, and Elsie saw him as someone who needed the warmth of people to recover.
As that time he was a one legged invalid, he knew it himself that he needed people to heal his emotional side.
And perhaps AG knew this as well that he temporarily allowed these good people to be his friends.
It pains him greatly, especially now, that he had to end their relationship this way.
And seeing that their group had respected his decision, him, in turn, had also respected their choice. He knew it himself that they wouldn’t turn back and come after after him.
Because he was a liar and liars can't be trusted. That, he ensured himself. It's like a reprieve to the heavy feelings in his chest.
The world he knew back when he was in the university is a world that he had longed for.
As their familiarity with him became increasingly close as days went by, all the more Rex felt the pain hugging his chest on this parting.
Everything that had happened, all these, from the moment they met and now, weighs heavy on his heart that he even felt his breathing shortening.
But all the more, what actually brings great pain and as well as anger in his chest is the fact that aside from his already limited time to search for «Excalibur», he was also betrayed aside from being tricked and threatened to be assassinated.
What he found wrothful at his instance is the fact that he trusted the kind act of what he thought was a respectable man.
“Jack.” He hissed the name through gritted teeth.
Why did the Flight Armor felt so slow now? He asked himself and he kicked the air once to clarify that he had been constantly traveling on the fastest speed possible.
Moments felt so long and it passed so slowly in his heightened senses.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
And when he finally backtracked on the great tree just outside the camping cave he remembered were, even if it was still a good distance away, thanks to the red light of the moon, he narrowed his eyes and forgot the pain on his temple and the threatening shaking of his bones.
The thoughts of having vertigo had been deleted on his neural system and he was so angry and so mad that when he landed on the cave entrance, he unleashed a massive blow to the cave with his Air Blast armed fists.
But when he arrived with his signature hard landing move, not a speck of noise came as retaliation to his deed.
There wasn’t a single soul inside the cave.
“JAAAACCKKK…!!” He screamed in anger and he punched the wall.
He even used Shockwave to tear the entrance down.
When the cave’s entrance crashed in front of him, his eyes caught a bright light that came from the north.
He did not waste a single moment in time and jumped into the air, he didn’t fully see where it came from but he was at least looking at the general direction of where it came.
And just like that, seconds came to pass, he kicked the air and went into its direction, noticing something big floating far into the sky.
He narrowed his eyes and focused his gaze, hovering for a few moments when he noticed a bright yellowish light from afar.
As his vision cleared, something red and big shot out from the ground.
He followed its trajectory and saw that the red ball of transparent something was heading, no, targeting the floating warship in the bloody night sky.
He heard its crashing collision and the impression was full. Something was happening in that bright area afar and knowing now that this is Anazon forest, the data he gathered regarding the guardian of the sword entered his mind.
Perhaps that ship belonged to him and that transparent red orb of light came as a retaliation from the guardian that he attacked.
“Found you.”
A gritted, menacing, half moon grin came from Siva and he kicked the air without afterthought.
He kicked again to accelerate, kicked again to push it more. Then he kicked for the third time, fourth, fifth, and until he reached nine times that he reached all his maximum acceleration speed.
It took him four seconds to reach 500km/hr and he was feeling a little anxious with the remaining time for the «Artemis MOD».
The lighted yellow was still a few distance but with his speed, he’d reach it in less than a minute.
But the time for «Artemis MOD» is 15 seconds left.
10 seconds, “A little more!”
Then he saw the fires, bright embers and charred land visible, in the middle of meadow there it lay.
5 seconds, he saw an image on the midst, unscathed, standing in the middle of a greenish land. Siva instantly recognized that image, the ancient evil that guarded the land.
He clicked his tongue, “Another hindrance.”
But at least he was here now, this is Anazon, he saved time searching for this place, but the losses on his part was, perhaps, the same losses he would have had if he was to make his way.
Nothing could be done with that.
What he do know now, however, is that his anger had reached its peak. No. It even went up another notch as not only he had to deal with Jack, the traitor and the reason for his delay and the person that betrayed his trust, he also had to deal with the menacing ancient evil that was said to have an immortal and very strong.
3 seconds, and for the umpteenth time, he clicked his tongue. Anger rising at his chest, he roared and landed as to where he thought where Jack was.
Explosion roared as he landed behind the guardian. His orange aura vanishing with the wind and smoke.
“JAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK..!!”
His anger had nothing to hide as he unleashed the full extent of his anger to the surviving members of Jack’s traitorous guild.
For the first time since he had learned how to control his urges that triggers his unique ability, he had openly wanted to send this message to all that around him.
And perhaps seeing, or, sensing it too, the warrior who just happen to slash away a staffed mage steadied his posture to turn his way.
Siva’s and the warrior’s eyes met, Siva narrowing his as he studied its red iris.
Nothing could be discern from the warrior’s facial feats for he was just an entity of pure black smoke from head and perhaps until his toe.
But the eyes were definitely alive.
Siva’s senses said that this was the source of that ill-suffocating feeling that he’s been sensing until now. A player, no, any other person could say that this guy is just a lump of jet black smoke given the shape and the bearing of a human who wears decorated armors.
The two glared at each other for a few moments more until the black smoke warrior raised his sword like an invitation to Siva.
Siva didn’t move. He was in the middle of discerning the intent of such action.
It was then that a few members of the Helium Guild launched at the warrior and so, as if irritated, the red eyes that was locked at Siva seemed to have narrowed and he retaliated in turn to those men.
In just a few seconds, he saw those who’s been struck cold by the sword vaporized in a black fire. Their flesh were eaten by the black flames in seconds, leaving only their bones, clothes, and equipment, until finally being sucked into a space and gone.
Siva remained unmoving, unflinching.
Why should he care?
And when the bravest of them all had been annihilated, only a handful of the Helium members were left to see the smoke warrior turn its attention back to Siva.
Like a stubborn, conceited war freak, he raised his jet black sword with oozing yellow-orange flames, maybe aura, to Siva. Again. Like an invitation, it waited for his reply without moving a single muscle.
Siva looked around and concluded, Jack wasn’t around here and perhaps, as a melee fighter as he was, he’d probably been annihilated by that same black flame.
He clicked his tongue both in frustration that he wasn’t the one to kill him, and also to the reason that’s in front of him right now.
If he escapes and turns around, he’s only inviting his own end for who knows, this black smoke bastard may stab him on the back.
“Fuck this.”
As if he had no choice, and to the impression that the only way to get out of here, and perhaps to get the sword that this ancient evil guards, he had no choice but to play and defeat this bastard on his own game.
So he swiped his left index and middle fingers in mid air, summoning his Player Window, and equipped his sword.
Why he did that, their audience wondered.
RPG: Terroa is a game that allowed players to summon their equipment using thought control options. This newcomer doesn’t have to manually do it so.
But to Siva, the reason is simple. He has, as all players of Terroa does, three default equipment settings.
From the head gear, to body clothes, arm accessories, weapon(s), flight gear, accessories, talisman (if there’s any), and underwear(s), players are allowed to set three default equipment settings. And for the most part, they could summon these settings with just a thought.
But Siva, he was different. No, his fighting style had been different, just lately, since the time he escaped the War of the Two Powers.
Because he had three identities and he had his own personal agendas regarding those identities.
Disregarding the agendas, his first default settings was the settings for the identity called Siva. He as the basic of basics that he uses rarely.
The second is the white masked, cloaked Siva who he uses only when he’s traveling into the city and trading in the MTC (Monster Trading Center).
One reason he hide his identity is because, as given that he’s always in a rush to both earn money for his unique way of fighting and because his haul is always by bulk, he’s been ordered to search for «5 H-class Information» in secret by the very man who dragged him into this war stricken, and personality changing place.
That’s him, Masked Siva, otherwise known as the man who visits cities in random, the wandering Volume Hunter —a name given by fanatics in Aarun.
And then there’s the third.
This is the settings that he uses when he’s fighting the players of Terroa. He only uses this settings when there are other people, aside from Volt’s group, around.
One reason is because he now know that he can’t escape being the target of players, even before when he was dragged into the War of the Two Powers, because of his agenda.
As searching for Five H-class Information could pose not only competition but also jealousy and envy, there will always be the existence of those who will follow him everywhere just to get what he has.
The reason he was hiding his identity with the alias of The Destroyer is because of such reason.
Creating an image of a strong player who hunts the rare H-class treasures and information will help his real player name and identity greatly as diversion.
While his competition are looking for the masked man, the real him would just pass through them and deliver his goods to where it should be. The only set back in this plan is: It’s easier said than done.
Because he was all three identities, he had to work three times as hard just to get what he wants.
And, it’s no wonder too, that the hardest identity to work on is the third that includes circumstances such as this one where should fight strong opponents to be able to survive.
He left the Player Window open with the inventory panel bared for easy access.
The twin guns, Eibon and Steve; Mjölnir; Black Ender; and Dragunov Set, the four equipment he had arranged in order for easy shifting is listed in highlighted fonts.
On the panel beside that window is the Items Inventory where the important items that wasn’t in his QIP is listed in order of its importance.
Plasma Screen Grenade, Flash Grenade, Blue Potion, Red Potion, Blue Crystal, Save Crystal, SCT (portable Spider Cargo Truck), and other items were all there in a list view with their names in highlighted fonts.
From the weapons panel, he selected the Black Ender and it appeared in his hand with a spark.
Then with his left hand, he touched his left chest where The Heart rested and charged it with power. The full gear Dragunov on his arms and legs disappeared and he was surrounded by an aura of blue particles, inactive on its dormant state.
It hovered around him, most especially on his back side as it stuck itself into the shoulder boosters of his flight armor, creating a silhouette akin to wings.
Though for added protection, he ought to wear his ever reliable rugged cloak, but considering that in impedes his movement, considering the level of his opponent as he’d seen, he remained to his standard clothing of the white polo and black slacks.
Finally, when his tiny moments of pondering and lack of surety from the happenings, surrounded by cowering survivors of the Helium forces and burning hays and grass, Siva raised his sword on the same manner as the smoke warrior, remembering that it was once an act of accepting a duel in the culture of ancient Roma.
And just then, an information prompt appeared in every eyes that gathered around them, prompting them all that they were inside an S-ranked mission.
The difficulty of it alone was too much to comprehend, all the more is the shock that Siva had.
For the first time, perhaps, in all of RPG: Terroa game history, this is the first time that a player encountered an S-rank mission.
[Mission]
“A Forgotten King”
Rank “S” Difficulty