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World: MSS - Loading...
"Speech"
"Thoughts"
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“I’m meeting this guy here? Now?!”
Meeting someone related to the [Sword Saint] was a big deal.
There are six [Hero] class bosses in World: MSS, one for each race.
Nearnigh the [Sword Saint] represented the humans.
[Mushin], the champion of the beastman whose tales were lost to legends.
The elven [Grand Magus] who hid himself away in the deep recesses of the world tree.
Referred to simply as the [Blacksmith], the dwarves practically worshiped their hero like a deity.
Then there was the orc hero, [Autarch], the first and only Orc Emperor in history.
Lastly the nephilim race were represented by the-
“I sense that you are still there, young flickering ember.” Arrosh interrupted my thoughts. “Heed my cry! For you are but an ember! Swaying with the wind! But the remnants of my master’s will-”
“Please, stop.” I hissed, looking around to make sure we didn’t garner any unwanted attention.
But no one seemed to be looking our way, and I could see why. Arrosh was effectively dressed like a homeless orc and locked in manacles to boot. He looked no different than the other poor denizens of this city. Why would anyone bother turning their attention to a slave talking to a homeless man?
“I need to fish for some more information. This guy isn’t supposed to be here. But if he’s right, I’m 100 years in the future.”
Some other random thoughts flashed through my brain.
“If I’m a 100 years in the future for MSS, what about my homeworld? Has it gone through 100 years too? What exactly happened to me?”
“Why am I even here?”
I must have been silent for a while because Arrosh began to fidget.
“Young blade, what do you think about my offer?”
“There’s nothing to lose.” If this truly was Arrosh, the disciple of the [Sword Saint], which I was 99% sure he was, this would definitely not be a waste of time.
This would be me taking my first step into survival. For now, while I didn’t have access to Cores or equipment, the only thing I could do to get stronger was strengthen my body.
“Yes. I will.”
The blind orc’s mouth hung open in shock. “You will? Truly, young sword?”
“Fuck… am I being conned?” But I didn’t voice it.
I read enough wuxia webnovels to know the saying: In murim beware three things: Children, Women and the Elderly. I needed to take advantage of this chance.
“Then follow me.” The orc turned and hobbled out of the temple ground.
I hurried and followed after him.
“Wait, you can’t see but I’m one of the slaves here. I can’t just-”
“The Children of the Desert will not care, young wind. As long as you return to the barracks before the moon graces us with her beauty.” He answered, limping into the alleyways.
“Damn it if only he didn’t get the name of the [Sword Saint] correct…” Panic grew as I entered the alleyways with him.
He turned and turned again. The alleyways were built like a maze, and within a few minutes I was no longer aware of where we were, growing less confident by the second of finding my way back on my own. So I stuck close to Arrosh, holding my sword and shield firmly. Maybe he was just bait for an ambush to kill some too-trusting slaves and loot their organs. I was sure that a [Black Market] would be well and active in a dying city like this one.
But what greeted me at the end of our trip wasn’t a group of thieves or organ plunderers. It was a small deadend, empty of debris with a single stool leaning against the wall. Arrosh walked to the stool and set it upright, sitting down. Abruptly I remembered that he was blind and I had followed him here.
“Damn. If he really did mean to hurt me…” I had been too caught up in the name [Sword Saint] to have thought out my actions.
I promised myself to never make that mistake; I would have to stay cold and logical as possible.
“Oh? Young ice, have you emptied yourself of worldly thoughts? I sense a chance in you as when the autumn leaves are covered by winter snow.”
I didn’t exactly understand what he was talking about but nodded, but remembering he was blind spoke.
“I’ve followed you here, Arrosh Bloodedge. You said you could pass on the teachings of the [Sword Saint] to me.”
One of the teachings of the 6 [Hero]-class bosses in MSS, what could it be?
I remembered scouring online forums and hidden fields in MSS. Strangely, I was always drawn to the 6 [Heroes]. I played each of the 6 races and found every questline, hunting zones and secret items. For about 2 years I was obsessed with finding a way to succeed these [Heroes] and taking their monikers for myself. Alas, I had found out that it was impossible. Even if you defeated these bosses, there was no in-game dialogue with NPCs referring to you as the [Grand Magus] even after you defeated her and the same was true for the other [Heroes].
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They dropped some sweet loot though.
“I sense your ambition, like an ageless tree which has been growing for an eternity. Since when could such obsession have taken root in one so young?” Arrosh whispered to himself, then said to me. “Bow.”
“...Excuse me?”
“Bow!” Then in the blink of an eye he closed the distance between myself and him, gliding like a ghost over water.
His cane struck me on both my shoulders, and I collapsed to my knees.
“Bow as if you are a dog begging for scraps from a stranger’s table, for that is what you are. Pray and hope that the stranger takes pity on you and becomes your master, for that is the only path to true strength.”
Dazed, I obeyed putting my head to the floor.
“Good, good.” I could’ve sworn I heard a smile in his voice.
The stool scraped, signaling that Arrosh had sat down again. I slowly lifted my head, rubbing my shoulders.
“From now on, I shall teach you as my master had taught me.”
I narrowed my eyes but didn’t say much. Arrosh might have been the Sword Saint’s lackey in the game, but he had been strong. I wouldn’t squander this opportunity.
“Now stand and hold your sword. I sense that you are holding a shield as well, you may hold onto it.” When I obeyed, he walked over and used his cane to move my arm and legs here and there, making sure my head was held straight over my neck.
“Hold, young one.” He muttered and stepped back.
I waited for the next set of instructions to come.
“The art of the sword is like a dance, moving when the wind blows but still as the earth before creation. All paths of the sword lead to but one path: blood and bone.” The blind-orc started whispering to himself, using his cane to correct my posture whenever something wasn’t to his liking.
I kept waiting.
“Blood stained winds blow into my village, threatening to bring rain. Thunderclouds are dispersed by war and the raven crows at midnight. Dogs feast on the corpses of the innocent and justice is blind to the sins of power.”
“...what am I doing here?”
I was slowly growing tired and felt my wrist start to droop. He lashed out with his cane and slapped them back into position.
“I know your idle thoughts, young storm! How can you hope to swing the blade when you cannot hold it? How can a newborn babe hope to walk when he does not yet crawl? Can there be rain where there is no sky? Trees where there is no earth?!” He thundered at me.
“...This is not the attitude I was expecting.” He had practically been begging me to follow him here, for someone to receive his teachings.
But as soon as we were alone, he forced me to bow to him and was now having me just stand here doing nothing.
Yet, I continued to sweat and fatigue built up.
“Rot builds up like canker sores, until it overtakes us all. Anger builds up like a dam, leaking out in excess like a puss. Cleanse yourself, purify yourself so you are the spring of water that may turn into an ocean, enveloping all else.”
Each time my arms were lowered, he put them back in place with his cane, continuing with his mad whispering. I grew increasingly tired but it gave me time to think. Lately, I've been pushed into one situation after another. This was the first time I really had the time to stay still. I thought about MSS and my situation.
I had already accepted how crazy my situation was. That was done as soon as I was pushed into the tunnels and had come face to face with an Orc followed by my life-and-death battle with a Lesser Dokkaebi. I had already become accustomed to being a captive of these orcs, my fate being sealed simultaneously the moment I accepted the Slave Collar. Now what would be my next steps to survive?
“Cores.” The answer came easily.
I needed Cores. It didn’t matter if Arrosh was truly the [Sword Saint]’s disciple or not if I didn’t have any Cores to supplement myself. I could have all the [Skills] in the world and I’d still be nothing without [Abilities].
MSS put a distinction between [Skills] and [Abilities] for characters. [Skills] were something that you had to learn through minor achievements. For example, raising your [Handicraft] stat by two stages while using kitchen knives would get you the skill [Cut]. This skill stayed with you and couldn’t be taken away. [Abilities] came from Cores and Equipment, as soon as you erased a Core or took away the equipment those [Abilities] would disappear since they weren’t something you learned yourself. But [Skills] would only take you so far. Cores provided stat bonuses as well as a random passive and active ability of the monster. If I could only-
“We are finished, young hilt.” Arrosh’s voice brought me out of my thoughts.
I was drenched in sweat and there was a puddle where I had been standing. Judging by the pungent smell radiating off of the orc, he had sweated quite a bit as well. His brow was beaded with effort and he limped over to the stool and sat down. I hadn’t realized how tiring this was for the elderly orc.
“Thank you.” I whispered.
He waved a hand.
“The Cursed Sun sets, and the moon will grace us with her presence. Return to whence you came. Tomorrow, I will meet you at the destined place where we met, the Temple of these orcs.”
Truthfully I wanted to stay and ask him a couple of questions. Such as how he ended up here, what happened to the [Sword Saint] and even just for a general overview of the world. But the atmosphere wasn’t quite right so I gave him a slight bow, wincing in pain as a spike of pain traveled down my neck and back, all the way to my heels. I tried to turn around, feeling that same pain arc through my body starting from my hips to my upper shoulders.
“Go. Before the others notice.” He said.
I gritted my teeth, and made my way back to the temple grounds through the alleyway.
Or atleast I tried to.
“How do I get back again?”
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By the time I reached the training grounds, the sun had already set. Seeing the last of the slaves being led out, I sped up and naturally joined the dredges of the procession. Some of the orc warriors gave me a look but didn’t comment. Some of the slaves certainly minded though, holding their noses and stepping away from me. But to me, the opinions of the orcs mattered more.
“It was true. They didn’t care as long as I came back.”
I took a deep breath and steadied my gait, trying to walk as normally as possible as to not arouse suspicion. Gut feeling told me that Arrosh wasn’t supposed to be there and neither was I supposed to be associating with him. How he had been getting around with those giant manacles on both wrist and feet was a question better saved for another time. What really mattered to me was the significance of what I had just experienced.
｢ Achievement: Sword Saint Candidate* ｣
｢ Quest - Succeed the inheritance of the [Sword Saint] ｣
“If only I had a system window.” Cursing how something I took for granted before left me in the dark so much, I continued walking with the other slaves.
“Haha! I’ve been looking for you, Lock Slaveborn!”
Lety and Clover were walking in the opposite direction of the procession and walked next to me. I saw the sheep-beastwoman scrunch her nose in distaste at my state but L’teya just laughed it off. Being an elf, one would assume that she would find my current state to be disgusting. But there were many kinds of elves, just as many as there were orcs, and L’teya with her tanned skin and black wavy hair was anything but the typical elf. Only her pointy ears hinted at her race, her toned muscular body furthering her from the typical image of an elf.
I found myself surprisingly glad to see the two, even Clover.
“You’ve cheered up.” I stated. “I had thought the collars had dampened your will.”
The moment I said the word collar, Clover furiously motioned an X in front of her chest behind Lety’s back but the damage was done. L’teya drooped, melancholy evident in her face and posture.
“I’ve failed as a warrior.” She muttered.
“Oh.” I cleared my throat. “I’m sure that with your skills, you’ll be allowed to take it off soon.”
Lety cheered up visibly at that and Clover sighed in relief.
“How the hell did these two end up here and become friends?”
No matter how I looked at it, the two were a mismatch. Clover’s last name was Weinport, which sounded like a merchant’s name to me. Not only that, when we had first met she had looked relatively clean with healthy skin. Her back was straight and despite her quiet nature, she looked at people in the eye when she spoke. All the signs of a well-to-do upbringing. She reminded me of the kids that I met at the various fundraisers my parents used to bring me to.
“Don’t get distracted.”
With Lety and Clover’s antics and small talk accompanying me, we reached the barracks sooner than I thought. Which was good, because I was starting to feel the limits of my body. The training that Arrosh offered was more tiring than I had initially thought.
“Maybe that’s a sign that it’s working.” I was still in half disbelief about trusting in the homeless orc but all the signs he displayed pointed towards his words being truth.
The barracks was a large rectangular building with two wings. Naturally our orc captors separated the women and men, and the men’s side was much more crowded than the other wing. Luckily there were plenty of beds to go around. I chose a bed that was the farthest in and nestled to a corner. The beds were actually nothing more than slabs of rock carved into the foundation of the building.
Taking one of the bedrolls, I was about to lay down.
“I wish to speak with you.”
It was the spear-wielding lizard beastman.
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Name: Lock Slaveborn
Race: Human
Age: 24
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Level: 3
Stats
[Physical]: 2
[Mental]: 1
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Spirit Core Slots Available: 1
Spirit Cores: N/A
Skills: N/A
Achievements: [Sword Saint Candidate]