Wyatt backpedaled furiously away from the charging orc while he lifted his bow and loosed an arrow; it winged its way towards the charging orc and slammed into the creature’s bulbous neck. With a gurgle, the orc pawed at the shaft protruding from its throat before collapsing to the ground.
He continued to retreat, loosing arrows as the orcs quickly closed the distance between them. An arrow sprouted from the closest orc’s eye, and it flopped forward without a sound. His next missile barely missed a charging orc, and it thumped into a tree trunk where it quivered with spent force.
Desperately, he dodged to the side as an orc hurled a throwing stick at him. It clattered off a branch and bounced away into the forest. He was down to only two arrows, and at least ten orcs remained. He hastily selected Fire from the Bow of Ages menu, and the next missile burned with the fury of a sun. When it struck the orc, the creature exploded into flames.
The blazing creature gave him a brief distraction as it screamed and lurched into the nearby orcs, setting several others alight. He fired his last arrow before turning and sprinting away. As he ran, he could hear the orcs take up pursuit after a brief delay. Still, it gave him a hefty lead and he might be able to lose them in the overgrown forest.
Wyatt weaved between the trees, trying to avoid prickly bushes and thorny vines that clawed at his clothing. When he burst out into the trail of devastation left by the Cetacean Crab, he cursed at finding himself in the open. But the clear ground allowed him to him to sprint faster, and he lowered his head as he ran.
He had almost reached the middle of the clearing when something struck him from behind. His leather armour took the brunt of the force, but he still stumbled and crashed into the ground. He quickly flipped over onto his back and saw an orc in the treeline readying another throwing stick.
Wyatt rolled to the side to avoid the missile, and it slammed into the ground where he’d been with surprising force. The orcs were incredibly strong. He pushed himself up and continued to run toward the forest when another stick crashed into his leg. Again, he found himself on the ground, this time with his thigh throbbing in pain.
I can’t believe a stupid stick took me down.
He staggered to his feet and unsheathed the Dragon Glass Sword. If he kept running, the orcs would just pelt him with throwing sticks until they got a lucky hit and took him down permanently. The next missile he swatted from the sky with his blade, surprised at his own agility. The nanites had already made significant improvements to his body.
As he knocked throwing sticks out of the sky, he continued to back away until a thick tree trunk was at his back. At least when the orcs came, they would only be able to attack him from the front. Not that he thought they were particularly intelligent and would use anything resembling tactics.
The orcs formed up about a dozen paces away, and they hooted and squealed while they stomped their feet and shook their primitive weapons. None of them carried anything more impressive than a club, but with their strength, the cudgels would still be dangerous.
With one final ear-splitting squeal, the orcs rushed towards him, grunting and waving their primitive weapons in the air.
Wyatt fell into a fighting position and trusted the nanite training to get him through the battle. His sword weaved through the air, and he slashed at any orcs who came too close, leaving terrible wounds on their bare bodies. An orc’s hand flew off as the blade sliced cleanly through its wrist, and the creature cried out in pain before stumbling back.
The sword carved through an orc’s neck and there was the sound of two thumps as a decapitated head hit the ground, quickly followed by its body. One by one, he cut down the creatures in the attacking mob; the squeals grew more desperate by the moment.
But against so many, even his improved skills and body couldn’t avoid all the incoming strikes. A club hammered his chest, and he felt a rib crack. Pain exploded through his side, but he ignored it and kept fighting. Then another club slammed into his shoulder, followed by a glancing blow to his head.
He fought to stay conscious as stars danced in his vision. If he went down with the ravening horde of orcs surrounding him, it would be all over. And he knew all too well what orcs did to their incapacitated victims.
Wyatt slashed wildly, trying to keep the orcs at bay while he recovered. He drove his blade through the nearest orc's chest before it could regain its balance from a wild swing. He ripped the blade free in a spray of green blood. As his vision began to clear, he waded into the orcs, hacking at any within range. Within moments, he was drenched in blood.
Only five orcs remained standing in front of him, and for a brief glorious moment, he thought he was going to defeat them. But as he slashed another orc, the sword’s blade shattered and sent sharp fragments soaring through the air. He grimaced as one of the shards sliced through his cheek.
At the sight of his weapon breaking, the orcs surged forward and rained down blows from their clubs. He was driven to his knees, and when he raised his arms to protect himself, a weapon hammered his forearm, and the bone snapped like dry kindling.
The pain nearly made him pass out, but he gritted his teeth and pushed through it. He jammed the broken blade into the nearest orc's belly. He then tore out the ruined weapon and reversed it to stab another orc's toes. The creature let out a bloodcurdling shriek and fell to the ground, where it cradled its foot.
Wyatt rose unsteadily to his feet and glared at the last three remaining orcs. He could feel blood running down his body from half a dozen wounds, and one arm hung uselessly at his side. His ribs ached, and every breath made burning pain shoot up his side. But he wouldn’t give up.
How have you managed to remain conscious? Lars asked, sounding slightly awed.
“Because I’m stubborn,” he spat as he shuffled towards the orcs. It may have been his terrifying bloody visage, or it may have been seeing their companions cut down ruthlessly, but the creatures didn’t have any fight left in them. They turned and fled—one crawling away on all fours—leaving their wounded behind.
Wyatt watched them go until they disappeared into the dense forest. When he glanced down at the gravely injured orc in front of him, he knew it wasn’t long for the world with its nasty stomach wound.
He took a step towards the creature to finish it off, but a wave of dizziness made him sag to his knees. His vision blurred, and he collapsed onto his side. The last thing he saw was a notification stating: Congratulations Contestant on reaching Level 2!
Then he passed out.
* * * *
An insistent pain finally drew Wyatt from the depths of unconsciousness. As he cracked open his blood caked eyes, he realized the shadows had grown long as the sun dipped below the horizon. A pile of orc bodies surrounded him, though thankfully none of them stirred. The injured one must have expired after he’d collapsed in the clearing.
With a supreme effort, he pushed himself up to his feet, but a wave of excruciating pain nearly made him pass out again. After a few seconds, he managed to steady himself and began to slowly collect his belongings. He gathered up the bow with his good arm and then glanced down at the broken sword on the ground. After a moment, he decided to take it with him, since it could still be a useful tool. It took a few attempts to snatch it without dropping the bow, but he finally managed to slide it into his scabbard while holding the bow under his arm.
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He briefly searched the orcs for anything useful and was pleased to find two fresh rabbits hanging from one of the orcs belts. Apparently, they needed to eat in this world, or they were at least programed to go through the motions of hunting game.
The biological robots in the previous games had been far simpler than these—usually only acting as NPCs or stationary bosses—so he wasn’t quite sure how these new ones worked. Still, he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity for a meal.
He considered trying to find the location of his first skirmish with the orcs to retrieve some of his arrows, but after a glance up at the twilight sky, he realized he’d be searching in the pitch-black darkness of night. And if he stumbled into anything dangerous out here, he would be in no shape to fight it.
He needed to get back to the camp.
With his bow, broken sword, and the pair of rabbits, he set out toward the cave he’d claimed. Along the way, he had to stop several times, as the pain nearly overwhelmed him. Every time he moved his arm, a jolt of agony shot up his limb.
After struggling on for almost a kilometre, he finally had to stop. He placed his belongings and rabbits aside before gathering up a few sticks. He tore strips of cloth from the sleeve of his shirt and fashioned a simple splint. He then tied the remaining strips together, using his good hand and teeth to make a sling. Once his arm was immobilized, the pain was more manageable and was able to continue on his path.
Night had fallen by the time he reached the camp. In the inky darkness, he could barely make out the shapes of his companions sitting around the arm glow of the fire. At the sight of him, two figures surged to their feet and then raced over to him. They stopped a few paces away, their faces filled with horror.
Saeko glanced down at the rabbits and her eyes widened. “I told you the rabbits would be dangerous! Look at what they did to you!”
“It wasn’t the rabbits,” he said, chuckling despite the pain. “I ran into a few orcs out there.”
“I still say it was too dangerous to go hunting,” she said, stubbornly. “Next time I’m coming, whether you want me to or not.”
Augie moved beside Wyatt and took the bow from his grip. “They sure did a number on you, didn’t they? How many did you fight?”
“I think there are about a dozen.”
“You fought a dozen of those things?” Augie gaped at him. “I thought you were going to say one or two orcs.” He slapped Wyatt on the back before he jerked back and winced. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. But damn, do I ever wish I could have seen that fight. It must have been epic.”
Wyatt grimaced in pain from Augie’s enthusiastic whack. “I need some water,” he said, his voice raspy. “And a place to sit down.”
Augie helped him limp over to the fire. The big man lowered him down onto a log they’d dragged over in his absence.
Wyatt could also see deep grooves in the ground leading to the cave, and they must have hidden the last of the loot in his absence. At least they were able to transport the loot from the Cetacean Crab. He’d been worried they would need a special skill to move it.
Mabel appeared a few moments later, and she cupped a broad leaf filled with water in both her hands. She offered it to him before stepping back and gazing at her feet.
Wyatt lifted the leaf and drank deeply from the water. It barely quenched his terrible thirst, but he immediately felt a bit better. Already, the fog in his mind was clearing, and he knew it was the nanites going to work on healing him. By tomorrow, his bones should be mended, and he should be ready to face whatever was out there.
But right now, he desperately needed rest.
Augie took the rabbits from him and retrieved a sharp flake of stone. But after a few curses and failed attempts, he placed the rabbits to the side. “I guess I can’t even clean the damn things. What kind of stupid trial doesn’t let you even prepare food?”
“A survival game,” Wyatt muttered. “And if you give me a few hours, I’ll clean the rabbits.
As he spoke, the sun sank beneath the horizon and a screen appeared in his vision.
The first day of the Dissident Trials is complete, and it has been a resounding success. Of the original 110,482 contestants, 99,801 remain with a chance of rehabilitation.
Wyatt felt shocked at how many contestants had been entered into this year’s game. Normally, only a few thousand were placed in the deathmatches, but the OSC had placed nearly a dome’s entire population into this year’s trials.
And he knew with a sinking feeling what that meant—they were finally purging the workers made obsolete through the new Synthetic Life Forms, better know as SLFs. If he failed in his mission, the trials would only grow larger every year until those at the top had eliminated everyone deemed non-productive.
Before he could dwell on the butcher’s toll, more writing appeared in his vision.
Here are the amazing and astounding highlights of the day.
Scenes of battle and carnage quickly filled his vision, and he watched as a young woman with blond hair called down a thunderstorm on what looked like squid-gorillas emerging from a river. One by one, the creatures burst open to reveal less developed versions of themselves inside. The larvae charged at the caster, but another woman with dark hair deftly dispatched them by hurling strange explosives into their midst.
The view then shifted, and he watched a group of men take down what appeared to be a massive centipede with three bear heads. While the group took devastating losses, eventually, they managed to overwhelm the beast with sheer numbers.
The highlights went on and on, as people fought for their lives against creatures summoned from nightmares. As the highlights concluded, he felt a bit disappointed that his battle against the Cetacean Crab hadn’t made the reel. But then again, he hadn’t dispatched it in a particularly impressive manner, and certainly nowhere nearly as dramatic as some of the others.
Once the highlights had concluded, a new screen appeared.
Leaderboard
1. Celestyna – Level 10
2. Dagmara – Level 10
3. Osvaldo – Level 9
4. Ekon – Level 9
5. Kendric – Level 8
6. Atlas – Level 6
7. Annalise – Level 5
8. Calista – Level 5
9. Ramesh – Level 5
10. Garcia – Level 5
…..
48801. Wyatt – Level 2
Wyatt felt mildly disappointed at seeing his placement on the list. He’d thought that defeating the minor boss and the orcs would place him much higher, but the other contestants obviously hadn’t been sitting around all day crafting weapons. Instead, they had been out fighting the creatures of this world and gaining levels.
He pulled up his character sheet up as he remembered that he’d reached Level 2 after his battle with the orcs. At the bottom of his stats, he noted that he had two points to distribute. After a brief consideration, he added 1 point to Strength and 1 point to Stamina. With all the fighting he’d been doing, he could use a bit more power and endurance while fighting.
Once he was done, he inspected his character sheet.
Wyatt Ashford
Survivalist, Level 2
Strength
4
Dexterity
5
Stamina
2
Intelligence
1
Durability
3
Resistance
1
Available Stat Points
2
Special Bonuses
None
Titles
Goliath Slayer (+2 STR +2 DUR), Stoned Crafter (+3 DEX)
Skills
Outdoors Survival
Rank 1
Hand-to-Hand Combat
Rank 1
Melee Weapons
Rank 1
Missile Weapons
Rank 1
Gun Powder Weapons
Rank 1
Ancient Crafting
Rank 2
Medieval Crafting
Rank 1
Pre-Modern Crafting
Rank 1
As he read over his new stats, he stifled a yawn. He was so tired he could barely think straight. Tomorrow, he’d fashion some weapons for the others, and they could start grinding some monsters to increase their skills. If they had any hope of surviving, he needed to catch up with the others on the leaderboard.
Any further thoughts drifted away as he laid down. The last thing he saw was Mabel staring at him curiously, and then a dreamless sleep took him.