Chapter 47: Spider
Holding out her palm, Anelia signaled once more for the aging farmer to take it easy as she scooped up another bale of hay and loaded it onto the back of the massive hauler-DEHV where it was parked just outside his farm on the outskirts of town. A few beads of sweat rolled down her forehead, though it was from the heat and not the exertion. Despite the sun having only risen an hour ago, the temperature had already warmed considerably. It seemed the current heatwave was showing no signs of relenting.
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” the elderly farmer asked. Though his teeth were rotten, his appearance haggard, and his clothing torn in places, a determined strength could still be seen in his dark blue eyes. “I can at least help.”
“This is nothing to me,” Anelia said. “Don’t worry about it.”
Even in her armor, the two-hundred-pound bundle felt as though it barely weighed more than a twig. There was no reason for this man to break his back. Gods only knew how a level 1 managed to do this kind of intense labor at his age. For the past two days, Anelia had spotted him struggling as she’d patrolled around the town in search of her target. Despite his frailty and overtly poor state of health, Anelia had watched as he’d found the strength each day to perform what, to him, must have been a very strenuous task. It reminded her of her late father, a man whose memory she would forever cherish. He, like this old farmer, had worked himself to the bone long after he should have retired in comfort.
Lacking anything better to do, she’d decided to come by this morning and give the guy a hand. It was a good way to kill some time while striking up a conversation with one of the locals. She’d gotten to know quite a few of them over the past few days. This man, if memory served her, was named Jaken Felsnar, and he had lived on this farm here in the Den of Ziragoth for all of his life.
Apparently, his wife had passed away a year prior, and his eighteen-year-old son was off fighting for the Guild of Gentlemen in the Plains of Mist under the command of Sir Guthric Talbid. He clearly had no way of knowing that the conflict there had now been resolved, as in typical guild fashion, the media had been kept from reporting that Sir Guthric had been killed in action and would likely say nothing on the matter for at least a few more days. Custom demanded that Sir Talbid’s family and next of kin first be allowed a week to process and grieve before his death be made public. More to the point: if Sir Talbid was dead, it was most likely the case that this man’s son was dead as well—though Anelia didn’t have the heart to tell him that.
“I really appreciate this,” he said to her. “But just so you know, you really don’t have to do this. I really…I am fine.”
“I don’t mind,” she said. “I’m here anyway. Like I said, this is nothing to me. I could lift your entire DEHV if I really wanted to.”
He bowed his head, and there was a look of pure gratitude in his eyes. “I am so honored. Thank you.”
“It’s fine.”
He scratched the single patch of grey hair that still remained on his otherwise bald head, then said, “I hear you’ve been doing so much for the town since you came here. You gave us all a big fright at first, but the Gods have truly blessed us with your presence. They say you pulled Arin’s tractor out of the mud last night with your bare hands.”
Anelia shrugged. “I was in the area.”
“Whatever the reason, you’re a good man, Mr. Hellcrest. I mean that.”
Anelia didn’t bother to correct him. The fact that she looked like a man was by design. It was useful in her profession. She found that it was easier to intimidate people, especially men, if they believed it was a man who was beating the information out of them. Early on in her career, she would every so often encounter someone who was so stubborn that no amount of torture or pain would allow his pride to give her the information she sought. To some men, dignity mattered more than broken bones.
Truth be told, she held no preference for such violent methods of extracting information. In almost all circumstances, she much favored going the route of bribery. It wasn’t always an option, though: at least not with some. For those types, it was easier in the long run just to masquerade as a male. It wasn’t difficult for her, either, as she had always been unattractive and unsightly compared to other women. Her jaw was oversized, her cheeks were square-shaped, and her other cheeks were flatter than the surface of a dining table. It was fine, though. She did not yearn to be pretty. And why? Because with enough power and gold, everyone became beautiful in the eyes of the world.
“So, uh, have you found that boy yet?” Jaken asked.
At this, she shook her head. “He’ll be here, though. Just keep your eyes peeled.” She bent down, grabbed another bale of hay, and loaded it onto the truck. “And don’t worry: whether I find him first or someone from town alerts me to his presence, you’ll all still be rewarded.”
Anelia had really taken a liking to this town. Though small and old fashioned, with a population of only around three thousand, it was a wholesome community of hardworking folks who were struggling to get by. With the reward for Zachys Calador now topping six million, Anelia decided that, after claiming his head, she’d invest a million into this town’s development for all the hospitality they’d shown her. The school here was apparently in great need of new textbooks, the community center had fallen apart a few years back during a hurricane, and several of the roads leading in and out of town had potholes deep enough to damage tires. It seemed the Guild of Gentlemen were collecting tax money but not adequately performing their role as the governing body. Sadly, she doubted anything would change any time soon.
The Whispery Woods was one of the most impoverished regions in North Bastia, and the Guild of Gentlemen had seemingly given up on it long before their current war with the Royal Roses and the People of Virtue. It wasn’t just the crumbling city or the rise in organized crime that had been sprouting up more and more lately. Even the farmlands were being neglected despite the fact that a third of humanity’s crops were grown here. Whispery Woods had devolved into the slums of humanity. The only exception, of course, was the upper-middle-class town of Doom-Bound Keep and some of the suburbs nearby it.
Given the overall economic state of affairs, it was no surprise that, despite being completely undefended, no guild had bothered to contest or claim the region as their own. It wouldn’t even require an army, either. Literally any guild, even a minor one, could step in and declare themselves the new rulers without a single ounce of blood being spilled. But Anelia knew that none would, as the tax revenue coming in would not come close to offsetting the cost of maintaining the aging city. Had these farmlands been their own region or part of any other, things would be different. But since they could not be decoupled from the city, they were being dragged down with it.
Humorously, Anelia realized that Whispery Woods might be the one region that the Guild of Gentlemen would ultimately be allowed to keep when their multi-front war finally ended. She was fairly certain that Tomb of Fire, the former capital of the monarchy, was next on the list of targets once Shadowfall Coast inevitably fell. That was assuming there would be anyone left to defend it. Rumor had it the Guild of Gentlemen were putting it all on the line to protect Shadowfall Coast and were sparing no resources. If that were the case, then the legendary Guild of Gentlemen might come to an end in the coming weeks—at least with the way things were going. Oh well. Sucked to be them.
Having finished loading the last bale of hay onto Jaken’s hauler-DEHV, Anelia wiped her hands on her scale leggings while he thanked her profusely and swore that one day he would repay her kindness. “Don’t worry about it,” she said to him. “All I ask is that you keep an eye out for my bounty, all right old man?”
“Of course,” he said. Then, lowering his voice, he whispered, “Is he dangerous?”
“I don’t actually know,” Anelia replied truthfully.
“What’d he do, anyhow?”
“He maimed a member of the Royal Roses.” She raised her finger to her nose. “But that’s a secret you don’t repeat, got it?”
“Of course.” His mouth dropping slightly, he said, “If I see him—or any of us see him—you’ll be the first to know. The last thing we need in our town is a violent fugitive.”
“If you do see him, make sure you don’t bother him or mess with him in any way, okay? Treat him as you would anyone else. I don’t think he’ll attack unprovoked. But because I can’t know that for sure, it’s best to be as passive as possible and stay out of his way unless he approaches you first. I’ll be in town and never more than a few minutes away.”
“Understood. We won’t let you down.”
“I know you won’t.”
With that, Anelia walked away and headed back for the direction of the town. She paused a moment, feeling a vibration in her pocket. She removed her cell phone and glanced down to see that she had missed four texts from her handler. She ignored all four of them. She knew what he was going to say: that Zachys Calador was a lost cause and that she should begin working on finding a new target to hunt until rumors of the kid resurfaced somewhere. Even after all these years of proving him wrong and rubbing it in his face, it looked like she’d have to pull off yet another “I told you so” on her handler once again.
She knew Zachys would come here. She knew that the adventurers could vanish into thin air only to come back later in the spot they’d disappeared. Returning her phone to her pocket, she resumed her trek back into town content in the knowledge that she’d covered her bases. Anelia had spent the time required to make friends with the locals in the most strategically important locations: the pub, the inn, the general goods store, and with the majority of the street merchants in the open-air market dead center in the middle of town. If Zachys should wander in and somehow slip past her notice, then all Anelia would require was one of the townsfolk to spot him and call her work number on the card she’d given many of the locals.
He’ll be here, she thought, licking her lips.
Zachys Calador would come, and when he did, she would be ready to dispense justice and get paid in the process. A grin formed on her face as she imagined how wonderful it would be to collect the gigantic reward they’d put up on him. Vendettas were good business, truly. Even subtracting the one-million gold she planned to invest back into the town, this was still going to be one hell of a payday.
*****
As Zach returned his keycard and prepared to leave with Rian and Lienne, he finally discovered the reason Angelica’s had been so crowded yesterday—and was even more crowded this morning. It was actually kind of surprising he hadn’t picked up on it until just now, whereupon it had become the primary topic of conversation among the patrons, all of whom seemed giddy with excitement. Apparently, in just fifteen more hours, room 857 was going to be available for booking, and everyone—including even Fluffles, oddly enough—wanted to partake in the raffle that Angelica was setting up to determine who would get dibs on booking it.
Zach still couldn’t believe this low-room-number shit was such a big deal. Then again, he’d be lying if he said there wasn’t a part of him that wanted to be here for the raffle. Even though he didn’t have enough points to book the room for the 100 days required to actually do anything with it, he could probably sell it for a huge, huge profit.
Greed before need, he thought with a snicker. Then he looked at Fluffles, who was practically hopping around in anticipation of the event, which still had many hours to go before beginning. The sight of it really took him aback. Wanting things like tuna and chicken, Zach could understand. But this was the first time he’d seen Fluffles display a keen interest in real-estate.
“Zach,” he said longingly. “I am a good cat, so I get room?”
“Well, there’s at least a chance you will. I mean, it’s a raffle.” He raised his arms up into the air. “Anyone can win it.”
“Fluffles deserve the most,” he said, sounding annoyed at the idea that other people also had an equal chance of booking the room. As if out of agitation, he leapt up onto the bar counter. Angelica, who was busy rifling through something in one of the drawers, patted Fluffles without even turning to look at him. Fluffles, in turn, purred, then hopped back down and spun around in a circle.
“I get the room. Right, Zach?”
“Only if you’re lucky and win,” he replied, having to raise his voice so that he could be overheard amid the raucous shouting and singing from the swarm of adventurers that had now descended upon the tavern floor—which also seemed somehow bigger now than it had been yesterday. Was he imagining it, or had the tavern actually expanded so that dozens more tables were now available for seating?
No, I’m not imagining it. There are twice as many people here but there’s still just as much room to walk around in.
Returning his attention to Fluffles, Zach asked, “Why do you even want the room, anyway?”
“Fluffles want,” the cat said back to him.
Zach nodded. “Well, yeah, that part I get. But my question is why do you want it? You’re a cat.”
Even with all the noise going on in Angelica’s, Zach could clearly make out the angry meow Fluffles directed at him. “I want it!” the cat snapped. “Stupid humans have big houses. I get to have big Fluffles house too!”
“You don’t need a house, though. Why would a cat need an entire house?” Fluffles hissed at him, and Zach could sense he’d offended the furry creature. “Sorry, sorry,” he said quickly. “No offense intended. Sheesh, you’re really sensitive sometimes, little buddy.”
“That cause Zach say mean thing and say Fluffles can’t be homeowner.”
That wasn’t exactly what Zach had said, but was it really worth the effort required to correct him? He thought not. When it came to Fluffles, it was best to just apologize and move on. “I’m sorry,” he said. “My bad.”
“It okay. I forgive.” The cat brushed against him, and Zach patted the top of his head. “I stay for raffle.”
“Will you come find us after it’s done? We’ll be in the Den of Ziragoth.”
“I go to Zach after. Fluffles promise.”
Zach smiled. “Good, because I’d miss you a lot if you didn’t. Anyway, we’re probably going to head out now, all right?” The cat meowed in what Zach took to be acknowledgement. “Be a good cat, okay?”
“I always a good cat. Lienne say I am best. Right, Lienne? Remember? You told Fluffles. You say it. You say Fluffles best cat.”
Lienne bent down and gave Fluffles a pat, then kissed him on top of his head. “Yes you are. Bye for now, pretty kitty.”
Rather than reply, Fluffles hastily about-faced, jumped up on top of the nearest table in the tavern, and stole a piece of breaded chicken from the plate of a gruff-looking, broad-shouldered adventurer a moment before he stuck his fork in it. Then he took off and sped away, leaping over the edge of the table and darting beneath another one closer to the center of the tavern.
With a sigh, Zach watched the cat disappear out of sight, and then he turned around and began heading with Rian and Lienne towards the blue metal push-bar door that would likely lead back to B10, where he expected to find an elevator they could use to return to the surface of Galterra. However, seconds after he started walking, something caught his ear from the table behind him.
“Every time with that damn cat,” loudly growled the man whose chicken Fluffles had stolen. “Wish it would get hit by a DEHV and be smushed into the pavement. Next time I see that cat, I’m kicking it.”
Upon hearing the man’s words, Zach stopped dead in his tracks, and for a moment, he merely stood in place while his lips pursed all on their own. Forcing himself to take a long, slow, and calming breath, Zach told himself to just ignore the disgusting comment and continue on. Words were just words, after all, and he knew Fluffles would always be safe in Angelica’s. There was no reason for him to say anything or react in any way. Rian seemed to agree, because with a rather urgent gesture of his chin, he indicated for Zach to continue on his way to the exit door.
And so Zach did. He took one step. Then he took another step. Then he even took a third step after that one. But following his fourth step, he stopped once more, shook his head angrily, and abruptly spun back around on his heels even as Lienne and Rian shot him a worried look and silently mouthed calls for him not to say anything to the man and to keep walking out with them. Zach tried so hard to stop himself, too, but the idiot’s words had penetrated his skull and seeped into his brain like a poison.
“Hey, asshole!” Zach called to the man, who then began turning his entire chair around so fast it was almost as though he’d been expecting such a reaction.
“Yeah?” the guy said back to him.
“Don’t do it,” Rian whispered. “Don’t!”
“Zach, no,” Lienne hissed in an equally low tone of voice. “That’s—”
Zach ignored the both of them, refusing to listen to their hushed protests. Even if this was a bad idea, the two of them couldn’t say a damn word after what they’d pulled with Moldark. Tuning them out, he instead stared directly into the eyes of the much-larger, much-older man.
“The fuck did you just say about my cat?” he asked with venom seeping through each one of his words.
As the man fully turned in his direction, the sheer number of scars on his face made Zach immediately regret his choice of action. This was doubly the case as the imposing fellow got right up from the table, causing his companions to smirk as he took three powerful steps towards Zach and glanced down at him with a shit-eating grin proudly displayed on his scarred-up visage.
“I said,” he began menacingly, “I hope that stray cat gets run over by a DEHV, and I hope I’m the one driving it. Got a problem with that, son?”
“Actually, I do,” Zach said, refusing to buckle under the intensity of the man’s sharp gaze. “Take it back.”
“Uh-huh…or what?”
“Just take it back.”
“Make me.”
Zach scowled. The words sent such a dark anger coursing through him that he almost didn’t care that the man was nearly as tall as Mr. Oren and looked like his entire body had been manufactured in an ass-kicking factory. He was tall, black, bald-headed, and appeared to be in his mid-to-late thirties. He was wearing leather-studded armor that was similar to Rian’s, only his was lined internally with metal rivets that seemed to emit a constant red light like that of a laser pointer; a shortsword was at the side of each of his hips, the bladed ends pointing downwards at his steel-tipped boots.
Though he tried to keep a brave face, Zach couldn’t deny the squeezing, pinching fear he felt in his belly as the man towered over him in an intimidating, confident way. Even amid his anger, there was still enough room left over for this man to simultaneously frighten him. The guy was clearly dangerous. Zach could tell from the heat in his eyes.
“Angelica,” the man said without even turning to look in her direction. He kept his eyes focused solely on Zach.
“Yeah, Spider?”
“We’re gonna need two of those nullification grapes. One for me and one for Zachys Calador.”
How does he know my name? Zach wondered. He was sure he’d never met the man before. And…nullification grapes? That sounds familiar.
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Where had Zach heard that term before? “Nullification grapes.” It was right on the tip of his tongue. Wait…wait a minute. Oh, right! Now he remembered. Yesterday, Mister and Misses Britethorn had told him about those. They were for people who wanted to fight out their differences in Angelica’s. It would reset a person to level 1 for around five minutes while also blocking out the use of any abilities. But wait a second…if she was bringing Zach one of those, then did that mean she thought he wanted to…?
“How exciting,” Angelica said cheerfully, speaking loudly as if addressing the quickly growing crowd that had begun to form around them. “Our noobie Zach just picked a fight with Spider.” Her cat-like ears twitched, and she handed him a small, round, soft, and oval-shaped piece of fruit that looked like a grape except it was silver in color, which Zach found strange.
“Two nullification grapes, here ya go,” Angelica said.
Wait, Zach thought, his mind struggling to keep pace with the sudden change in scenery around him. We’re fighting? For real?
He didn’t even fully understand what was happening to him until three-quarters of the patrons at the tavern had already encircled him and the cat-hating brute while drunkenly cheering at the prospect of a fight. It was almost like high school except with flashy, gear-wearing adventurers of all ages egging them on instead of terminally bored teenagers looking for any excuse to escape the monotony of daily school life.
“Hey, um, Angelica,” Zach whispered, “I didn’t agree to—”
“Sword off,” she interrupted with a smile.
“Huh?”
“Your sword. Take it off your back.”
Even as he complied, unclipping the harness and then handing his blade—still inside the scabbard—to Rian, who nervously took it from him, he continued his attempt to clarify the situation. “I didn’t agree to—”
“Equipment off,” Angelica said.
“Wait, what?”
“Take off your equipment, Zach.”
With that, she derailed his entire train of thought as a much more urgent and immediate concern came over him. “I…I can’t do that.”
“Is it stuck?”
“No, it’s just…” He felt heat entering into his cheeks. “Everything I’m wearing but my boxer shorts is equipment.”
“That’s fine!” she said with an even broader smile. “Off, off, off!”
Interestingly, it seemed this “Spider” fellow he’d stupidly gotten himself into a conflict with was in the same boat. But he appeared to have no issue following the instruction. He was now shirtless wearing nothing but his underpants. With a fuller view of him, Zach could see that the guy was absolutely shredded. Gods be damned, he couldn’t possibly have picked a worse person to start shit with.
“I’m not sure I want to—”
“Equipment off,” Angelica said, now speaking far more forcefully. Her smile had faded as well. “Zach…”
Not wanting to find himself on the bad side of a sentient NPC that was over level one-thousand, Zach realized he had no choice but to comply; nervously, he gulped and then hastily removed his tunic, boots, headband, and hand wraps. The moment he pulled down his pants, he saw Lienne’s eyes go wide and then she began to blush. She was totally staring, too.
“We need more fights like this,” a chick standing next to her said. She was with a friend of hers, who giggled and nodded in agreement. Both were sipping drinks with umbrellas in them, and they, along with a number of other girls, began hooting while making loud, demanding, and occasionally obscene comments.
Before Zach could once again try to diffuse the situation that he himself had created, Angelica commanded both of them to eat the grape. When Zach hesitated for just a moment, she set her eyes upon him, and he knew right away he could not refuse. Though Angelica was a cute girl with literal cat ears, she was also far more terrifying than this egregious man named “Spider” who’d wished death upon Fluffles. Thus, not wanting to upset or provoke her, Zach stuffed the silver-colored grape in his mouth and began to chew. It had a foul, bitter taste. It reminded him more of an olive than it did a grape. And he hated olives.
I can’t believe this is happening, he thought. I’m actually about to get into a fistfight for the sake of my cat’s honor. The more it dawned on him what he’d actually just roped himself into, the dumber, more immature, and shameful he felt. His overall situation was just…it was absolutely ridiculous. Here he was, standing barefoot in the tavern in nothing but his boxer shorts, and all because some random asshole had made a mean remark about the creature that, in truth, was only really “sort of” his cat.
What the hell has gotten into me? Zach asked himself. Me, of all people, fighting this giant muscle-man for my cat’s honor. Not even his life or anything. Just his damned honor. I must not be all that smart if I can end up in a situation like this.
For a period of ten seconds that felt way, way longer, Angelica darted her eyes between the two of them in silence. Zach wasn’t sure why—at least not at first. But then, towards the end of her ten-second period of quiet, he felt a dramatic shift take place inside of himself. Suddenly, he felt weaker. He felt slower. His sense of balance and steadiness decreased to where he felt positively clumsy. His limbs felt weightier and less responsive. The weight of Galterra’s gravity seemed to press down more firmly onto his back, making him feel heavier and burdened. It was only now, having been reset to level 1, that he truly understood the power he’d earned for himself through leveling. It also left him struggling to come to grips with the fact that this had been the way he’d lived most of his life up until this point. This was how most people felt every single day. Gods, it was awful!
What struck him as odd, however, was that when Mr. Oren had made him wear the lab coat, he hadn’t felt all that different when it was on him versus when it had come off. Zach supposed it was something that took a while to really understand. The whole incident had been brief, relatively speaking, and Zach had been in an incredibly fragile emotional state at the time with his mind in total disarray. Now, however, he very much felt the result of losing his stats. It was not pleasant by any means.
“All right, you’re both good to go,” Angelica announced, speaking in a way that came across as casual.
“Just like that?” Zach asked fearfully as she began walking away. “Like, are we supposed to just—”
Spider was on him in a second. Zach hadn’t even been looking in the man’s direction when he attacked, but he’d noticed the movement in the corner of his eyes. All at once, he closed his mouth and let his words fall off. Right away, without even consciously choosing to do so, Zach turned his head towards his attacker and began analyzing the man’s foot movements, his positioning, and on which leg he had distributed more or most of his weight.
Though his stats had been reset, it was in this very moment that Zach came to realize he was still nevertheless a different person now from the level-1 kid he’d been before, as the old Zachys Calador would never have noticed the approaching threat in his peripheral vision, nor would he have known how to respond to it even if he had. Clearly, were it not for the chaotic mess of wondrous highs and bottomless lows that his life had descended into recently, he would not have gained the combat experience needed to avoid being clocked in the face and knocked out cold.
Even while his body felt sluggish and unresponsive, his mind worked at its usual speed. Fueled by a bevy of previous combat encounters—everything from Fluffles’ wooden swords to dinner forks that spat out globs of explosive mucus—Zach now understood that while his physical body may have been reset, his brain had, in a sense, remained leveled up. Thus, even with everything being taken away from him, he was still so much more than he’d ever been before.
Drawing upon all of his past experiences, Zach bent backwards and slipped out of the way of a right-handed uppercut that had been cruising directly for his chin. Then, with the crowd cheering encouragements to both of them, he dodged a left hook and another, second uppercut, before nearly clipping his foe’s jaw with a swift counter jab that the man had actually seemed to evade by accident, having only coincidentally turned his body in the opposite direction of his fist.
As Zach took a single hop backwards and avoided a low kick aimed at his shin, it suddenly occurred to him that all of his fear had now vanished: it was completely gone. It reminded him of his fight with Moldark in that his brain had transitioned into “fighting mode.” He’d shifted gears. Whether it was due to his constant brushes with death in the Catacombs of Yorna or the traumatic night he’d gone toe-to-toe with Varsh, something had dramatically changed within Zach. Any time he now found himself in the thick of a fight—as opposed to the terrifying moment before it actually began—his fear would amazingly evaporate and his newly acquired skills would take over.
I’ve almost died so many times, he thought to himself. I can handle a little fistfight between two level 1s. This is nothing compared to Moldark!
Though ostensibly on equal footing, Zach knew he still needed to be very careful against someone like Spider, because even though the two of them now had a mere 1 point into every stat—the same as any other level 1—it didn’t mean the two of them were equally as strong or could strike one another with the same amount of strength. Given Spider’s much larger fame and toned, muscular body, Zach knew the man’s punches likely packed a whole lot more power than he himself was capable of delivering. This much, Spider seemed all-too-eager to demonstrate as he pivoted on his hips and threw an unforgiving left hook Zach’s way.
Raising his right fist to block, an intense pain erupted in his wrist as he absorbed the blow and then followed it up with a left hook of his own. To his surprise and satisfaction, he actually managed to bludgeon the cat-hating scoundrel, crashing his fist into the man’s jaw with enough force to snap his head back. Though if it caused the guy any pain, he did not let it show, because the man's only reaction was to put on a broad smile that seemed shockingly genuine.
The crowd erupted into a wild, unified cheer, roaring in what was clearly utter surprise at the fact that the much smaller and far-less experienced fighter had just landed the first clean blow against this older, far stronger beast of a man.
“Gods above!” a voice cried out from somewhere behind Zach. He neither recognized the voice nor could he afford to turn around to see who’d spoken. “Did you see that shit? That Zach kid just clobbered him!”
“Seriously though, what’s even happening?” someone else said. “That was insane.”
Bouncing slightly off the balls of his feet, Zach kept his body loose and as agile as possible given his return to level 1. The worst thing he could do was stiffen up and become too tense. He needed to be able to make quick, efficient movements. Though hardly the same as a swordfight, a duel with fists still drew upon much of the same principles as any form of melee-based combat. If he could dodge a sword, he could dodge a fist.
“You’re better than I thought you’d be,” Spider said to him.
“Gee, thanks,” Zach replied dryly.
“You’re welcome.”
Immediately following those two words, Spider frowned, and Zach wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t even a look of anger or rage, but one of something that almost resembled disappointment. “Son,” he said, lifting his chin. “What are you doing?”
“Huh?”
He made a “tsk” and said, “Keep your damn hands up. Always. Don’t drop them.”
Is this guy seriously giving me advice?
Zach almost wanted to do the opposite of what he was saying just out of some twisted kind of stubborn, principled spite, but he knew that the guy, this “Spider,” was actually right. He wasn’t going to admit that, though. Instead, he concentrated only on weaving and ducking as Spider gunned him down with a series of powerful left-right combinations that saw Zach backing farther and farther away until nearly stumbling into a table. This, as what looked like hundreds of buzzed adventurers, some outright drunk, cheered and cried out with glee.
Unable to find an opening, Zach continued to backpedal, and once more, he was being driven in the direction of another round, wooden table. But this, it turned out, provided something of an opportunity. Mere inches from bumping into it, he was ready to react as Spider struck out at him with a straight-cross. Sensing an opening, Zach quickly spun around and to the man’s right side, then threw up his foot into a round kick aimed at his stomach. He dodged, of course, but in so doing, the man bumped into the table and, for just the slightest instant, was put off balance. And while he was quick to reorient himself and turn in Zach’s direction, unfortunately—for him, anyway—Zach was already waiting for him.
Realizing that this might be his one and only chance to take the far-larger man down, Zach walloped him on the right side of his face, causing his head to snap to the left. Then, he followed up with a powerful hook with his opposite hand, grunting with the effort. His knuckles bashed into Spider’s cheek, and this time, the man’s head snapped to the left. Finally, Zach finished the combo by bending his knees and shooting his fist upwards into an uppercut. Yet somehow, Spider kept enough of his composure to move both of his forearms protectively in front of his face and block. Cursing under his breath, Zach nearly fell over as he twisted his body to escape the man’s intense counter punch. Once more, he found himself put on the defensive. But now, Zach began to sense a certain repetition to the way Spider attacked, and upon noticing this, he formed a plan. All he needed to do was focus and not be distracted by the thunderous cheering from the spectating adventurers.
“Wow, Zach!” Lienne cried.
“Get him,” Rian shouted. “Keep going! Li, our buddy is tough as shit. That’s Spider he’s duking it out with.”
“I know, I know!”
They weren’t the only ones who seemed impressed—or at least amused. “This is actually hilarious,” a male voice from somewhere in the crowd said. “You can tell Spider didn’t see that coming. That’s what he gets for toying with the noobie.”
Drowning out the background noise, Zach focused carefully and analyzed the man’s movements, watching as Spider entered into something of a pattern, throwing first a high-left followed immediately after by a low right aimed at the abdomen. One after the next, he continued on and on with this exact same series of strikes. Zach had to keep himself from grinning as he’d already discovered a way to exploit it.
Now that he’d memorized Spider’s attack pattern, he only needed to ensure he struck out with the correct timing. With that in mind, Zach waited until Spider threw two more consecutive left-right combinations, and then, on the third, Zach stepped into as opposed to away from the man, who cocked his right eyebrow as though in surprise. Now, Zach allowed himself to grin. He’d just won the fight. He was about to knock the guy out cold. Drawing back his arm, he slightly bent his knees, and with a grunt, he launched himself forward, striking with all of his strength.
A moment before impact, something bizarre happened, and Zach seemed to lose track of time. Then a loud ringing erupted unexpectedly in his ears along with an intense sensation of confusion and nausea. For less than half a second, Zach forgot where he was and what he was doing. It was to the extent that he almost wondered if he’d nodded off to sleep even while still on his feet. Seconds later, a searing, pounding ache traveled through the top of his head while the world blurred and the ground seemed to shake. His balance became wobbly, and he began to fight with his own body to remain upright; he was also fairly certain that he was seeing double.
“What the fuck?” he asked, to no one in particular. He was confused. Had something happened to him? Why was he feeling this way?
You’re in a fight, stupid! What are you doing?
Gritting his teeth, Zach shook his head, and with extreme rapidity, the fogginess in his brain lifted as it took until just then for him to realize he’d been hit—hard. Spider had brought down his fist and rapped him right on top of his skull.
“I’m not a mob, son,” Spider said, pointing at him. “You’re a damn good fighter for your age, you’ve got good instincts, and you’re brave, too, but if you don’t learn to mentally switch back and forth between people and mobs, you’re going to die in the real world. I’m not a mob. I don’t have attack patterns. Don’t study me like that. Rookie mistake.”
“What?” Zach asked.
Spider didn’t answer. Instead, he looked over to Angelica. “He’s okay to keep going?”
“Nah-uh,” she said. “But you already know that which is why you stopped attacking him. Otherwise, I would’ve said something.” She pointed at Zach. “That hit was a standing knockout. He lost consciousness for half a second.”
“I did not,” Zach said defensively. “He got a lucky shot in. I stayed on my feet. What kind of bullshit is this?”
“You can lose consciousness without hitting the ground,” Spider said. “And you did. You lost. Good fight, son.”
Is he mocking me?
Becoming angrier by the second, Zach refused to yield. “It’s okay. I’m fine,” Zach said, feeling humiliated and refusing to lose a fight in front of all these people. It was bad enough that he was fighting shirtless and barefoot in his boxers, but to be KO’d in a single hit like that…it was just too embarrassing. He was also fine. There was no need to stop. “Let’s keep going.”
Spider shook his head no. “Angelica says you’re done. So you’re done.”
“I’m fine.”
Zach gripped his hands even more tightly and then charged forward. He did not make it so much as a single step. Somehow, even from where she’d been standing at the bar all the way across from him, Angelica managed to cross what had to be fifty feet of distance in about a hundredth of a second. It was so fast that only the slight blur as she moved let Zach know she hadn’t actually teleported. But at the speed she’d just moved, why wasn’t there a sonic boom? He had no idea how she’d done that.
Now, standing in front of him, Angelica brought him to a complete halt simply by placing one hand on his shoulder. Her other hand, she placed on her hip. “Zach, I said it’s done.”
“I’m fine,” Zach insisted. “Trust me. I’m good to—”
For just the briefest instant, her name flickered red in a way that was almost emotive. It was only for a split second, but it was clearly deliberate, as she lifted her hand and pointed at her own name in the air above her. Zach understood the message being sent to him loudly and clearly: it was like a non-verbal, visual warning. Gulping nervously, he nodded, unclenched his fists, and lowered his hands to his sides. He might have been royally pissed off, but he wasn’t suicidal. He’d have to be mad to disobey a level-1027 NPC.
Calmly, and perhaps a touch pleadingly, he said, “I really am fine, though.”
“You won’t be if you take another hit like that.” More loudly, Angelica said, “Minor head trauma. Can anyone heal?”
All at once, about twenty different voices mumbled something in unison as nearly two-dozen people cast various healing spells on him all at once; it was as though it were such a trivial matter that the time required to coordinate who would cast it was worth more than the exertion of simply firing it off regardless.
Now, Zach was covered in so many different types of green auras and green mists that he completely, totally lost his ability to see anything around him other than a screen of pure dark green. There was just a total, all-encompassing shroud of various types of green energy surrounding him. Some of the spells were the same, of course. At least six of them mirrored what Lienne had typically used on him. But five or so were more of a “mist” like the one he’d seen from Fluffles, and three were semi-identical beams of light. One stood out to him the most, however. As it did not quite “cover” him as it did splash him. Even amid the storm of various dark green mists, auras, and energies that blocked out his view of everything more than a foot or two away from him, Zach flinched, startled, as what looked like ten gallons of dark green water drenched him from head to toe, soaking him completely. Strangely, however, after just a few seconds had come and gone, so too did every last trace of the water. It did not leave as much as a bit of dampness on his clothing or in his hair.
Feeling embarrassed and wanting to redeem himself, Zach asked, “Can I just have one more go at this? I could have won that. I was so close.”
At this, Angelica ruffled his hair then laughed. “You were never going to win, silly. That’s Spider. He was playing with you. You still did really good, though.”
“Playing with me?”
“He goaded you,” a nearby adventurer whose face was concealed behind a hooded robe said. “He does that to people.”
Zach looked back over to Spider, who hadn’t moved from where he’d been. The tall, powerfully built man noticed his gaze and grinned back at him. To Angelica, Zach asked, “Is the name ‘Spider’ supposed to mean something to me?”
For some reason, this elicited a round of laughter from many of the adventurers who were still watching him. A good many of them had returned to other activities the moment he’d been hit on top of his head. It seemed that they could tell when a fight was over just as easily as Spider or Angelica could.
“Who is that guy?” Zach asked, trying his best to keep anger out of his voice. Everyone here seemed to know who he was but Zach: even Rian and Lienne, who came hurrying over.
“We tried to warn you,” Lienne said, grabbing his shoulder. “But you still did way better than I was expecting. That was really impressive. You decked him so hard his lip started to bleed.”
“Okay, but who is he, though?” Zach asked. “I’m so confused.”
Before either of them could answer, Fluffles meowed angrily and loudly. “Why Spider pick on Fluffles’ human?” the cat shouted. “Fluffles not forgive Spider!”
A bolt of lightning appeared out of thin air and briefly lit the entire tavern a blinding, bright blue as it streaked down from the ceiling at a speed that was far too fast for the human eye to follow. And yet, with an even faster speed, Angelica whirled across the tavern, appearing as nothing more than a blur. When she reappeared, she was now extending her right arm with an aluminum frying pan in her hand. Astoundingly, she used the frying pan to catch the bolt of lightning an instant before it had struck its target. All throughout, Spider did not flinch or even so much as move a muscle. Even after Angelica had “caught” it, he did little more than nod his head in thanks.
“Fluffles!” Angelica shouted, glaring at the cat. Fluffles made a sorrowful, frightened-sounding meow, backing slowly away and then hiding under one of the tables. “Fluffles, come here right now,” she demanded.
“Fluffles not here anymore,” the cat said from under the table. “He disappear.”
“Fluffles…”
The cat slowly, hesitantly emerged from beneath the table and walked up to the bar counter. Angelica folded her arms and stared down at him. Fluffles’ ears twitched, and bizarrely, so did Angelica’s. “Well?”
"If Alex not borrow Fluffles' magic collar, I turn invisible for real."
"Fluffles," she said impatiently.
Fluffles meowed. “Okay. I sorry. I break rule again. But…but Spider bully Fluffles’ human.”
“I wasn’t bullying him,” Spider said. “I was having some fun. I hear he wants to join us, anyhow. So I would’ve kicked his ass sooner or later regardless.”
“Join you?” Zach said, mouthing the words several times over after speaking them aloud. “What are you talking about? Also, how did you know my name earlier?”
“Because I’m the senior-most lieutenant of the God Slayers Guild,” he said as a nervous rush of exhilaration caused Zach to inhale in disbelief. “I’m second in command after Donovan Iseldar.”
“Wait, what?” Zach blinked. “You’re in the GSG?”
“I am.”
“And you’re higher ranked than Mr. Oren?”
“Alex is like…seventh? Eighth? He’s only just been promoted to guild officer. Too soon, in my opinion.”
This was just too much to take in. “So wait a second, then. Why did you…?” Zach massaged his forehead. “Okay, so if you’re in the GSG, why didn’t you just say that? Before all this went down, I mean.”
“Because I was trying to piss you off, son.”
Zach felt a hand patting his back, then soon after, he saw Rian appear by his left side. “We tried to warn you. But you sort of rushed thoughtlessly in there.”
Zach narrowed his eyes at his friend. Then he held up his pointer finger and actually scolded him like an angry librarian. “You don’t get to say shit,” he told his friend. “Maybe I did rush in stupidly, but at least his name wasn’t green and this wasn’t in the middle of a dungeon.”
“Ouch, dude, point taken.”
Spider barked out a laugh. “I was just having some fun. I wanted to see what you were made of. I meant what I said though, son. Don’t fight people like you fight mobs. Young adventurers make that mistake every time. Mobs have attack patterns. People don’t. People have patterns in behavior, but not attack patterns. There’s a difference. Even when you’ve fought with someone a long time, you’re always only guessing what their next move will be. Only with mobs can you be so certain.”
Zach opened his mouth to reply, but just then, he felt his power and strength return to him in such a rush that it actually felt incredible. The grape must’ve finally worn off. Having been deprived of his stats, even for just five minutes, he greeted their return with a renewed sense of appreciation and wonder.
“Good fight,” Zach said, bowing his head. “I’m sorry I was a bad sport about it at first. I just hate losing.”
Spider came over and held out his hand. Zach shook it. “You’ll learn. You’re still very young. Losing builds character.” Spider looked as though he had more to say, but then someone almost as big and intimidating as him approached with a cocky, confident smirk on their face.
“Spider, what do you say we have a rematch today. Winner buys loser a drink?”
Spider gave him a brief, curt nod. Then, to Zach, he said, “It was good to meet you. I think I get what Alex sees in you now. At any rate, I’ll let you three get back to whatever you were up to before I picked a fight with Zach here.” He chuckled. “I knew the Fluffles thing would work.”
Fluffles hissed at him. “Spider use Fluffles to bully Zach. So now Spider give Fluffles two more of his chickens.”
“One more. And the breading scraped off.”
“Two! Fluffles gets to have two because Spider bully Zach. And breading too!”
While the two of them argued about chicken, Zach quickly got dressed back into his equipment then waved goodbye and made for the exit with Lienne and Rian. Despite the clobbering he’d taken over the head, he was in no pain and felt perfectly fine. Approaching the exit door, he remembered his bicycle, and he was eager to make sure it was still there and no one had stolen it. He also badly needed to buy a new, hopefully larger backpack and get some new clothing and supplies. He wondered if his junk would remain littered in the middle of B1 for the rest of eternity. Before going to see Kalana, maybe he should go back and get it.
Kalana, he thought, the name reigniting a nervous but exciting tightness in his chest.
As soon as he was aboveground, he needed to text her and let her know he was okay. Then he needed to finalize his plans to see her. It was the only thing he truly wanted right now. Just the thought of being with her again caused him to swell with emotion as he placed his hand on the push bar and opened the exit door. Hopefully in just a few more days, they’d be together.