The Mask of Volesprit - Chapter 6 - The Absolute Ruler
A month ago (in game time), in Toulouse
Royal Road had just been launched, but the ‘Red Warrior’ guild already boasted about being one of the strongest guilds in the entire continent with their two hundred players and their average level of twenty. Their guild leader, Marco, had even already reached level thirty seven. Their guild was feared and respected by everyone, as none of them used their status to harass the newbies. Marco sighed as he corrected himself. None but his brother and his companions.
Marco knew what his brother was like, how he exploited his relations to boast his worth to the girls or to put pressure on those that that weren’t interested by it. Even worse, he had heard of his chaotic behavior resulting in the death of a little girl. Didn’t the fool understand the difference between a monster and a pet?
But still, he was his brother. And even though he didn’t support his behavior, he couldn’t let his murder stay unpunished when his fool of a brother had broadcasted the video on the net and claimed that the ‘Red Warrior’ guild would hunt the mysterious masked man who had come to the girl’s rescue and slaughtered them along the way. Even though he would have done the same thing as him had he been in his shoes, brotherhood be damned, he now had to act on it and go to war, as his guild credibility would suffer -now that the video had been broadcasted- if he didn’t take the matter in his hands.
Marco sighed, and went back to watching the video. One more time. Was it the hundredth time? The thousandth? He didn’t know any more, but he had watched it to the extent of recalling every little detail. Yet, he was here, looking for anything he might have missed.
What was it with this guy? Was he really human? Were all mages supposed to have this much ability? No matter how he looked at him, Marco couldn’t even begin to gather anything from the fight. The man’s level, his class stayed a mystery. And because of their low fighting skill, his brother and his companions hadn’t made him reveal much.
Still, he now understood the basis of his fighting style. He only used darkness type magic thus far, and fought as one would play chess. A split second decision kind of chess, where a piece could do a thousand type of different moves. That much alone was freaking Marco out. How much of a genius did one have to be to pull such a trick out of his hat? How high was this freak’s IQ?
Then, there was this ‘Soul Eating’ skill. How could a new player use that kind of skill. THAT was on the level of cheating. The first time he saw it and heard the cry of the dead soul, his entire being shook with fear.
Why did his fool of a brother had to piss that kind of opponent off? And why the hell didn’t he let the matter pass once the fight was over? Marco was strong, really strong but with one glance at the video, anyone would understand that the man was the kind whose path one wished he would never cross. Not that Marco had any doubt that they would win the fight: the video had made a buzz on the net, and players had come from the whole country - and it was only because travelling at low levels was too risky and too time consuming that people didn’t cross the continent - to have a chance to watch and take part in the fight against the ‘Masked Monster’. There would be no fight to see: against such a crowd, a man alone stood no chance.
Still, Marco had nightmares when he thought of the aftermath. The man wouldn’t forget. He would come back for them and the thought of it froze his blood. In the end, there was no good solution. Still, he wouldn’t stand being called a coward. That’s why they were now training like mad men.
A few days ago, ‘He’ had answered his brother’s taunt with a short message: ‘Currently on a quest. Will contact you when I am back.’ Now, all they had to do was wait and train for ‘His’ return.
_________________________________________
Present
At last, Marco received the news he had been waiting for for the last month. Just a few word, but still, it sent a chill down his spine. ‘I am coming back. Wait for me where we first met.’
When they received the notice, Marco and his party ran like mad men to the meeting place while going over their battle plan. They were more than ready for this, but had strayed a little too far, as there were no more hunting grounds in the vicinity. They just hoped they wouldn’t be too late for the action. Their intense training couldn’t be wasted that way. Their average party level was over 110. That much alone showed how much time they had invested in preparation for this moment.
As they reached the forest, Marco and his party suddenly stopped, gaping at the other-worldly sight displaying before their eyes. How did things turned this way?
_________________________________________
A few hours earlier
“An ambush, huh? I see you guys didn’t grow any balls.”
Marco’s brother, whose in-game name was Roland, shouted furiously:
“What are you talking about? An ambush? You were the one who called us here, you shithead!”
Volesprit frowned. He certainly hadn’t given them any rendez-vous here. To begin with, he didn’t even know how to contact them - as he wasn’t aware of the current buzz on the net - and even if he did, he most certainly wouldn’t. He had had enough of his ugly mug the last time they met.
The only ones who knew of his return were … ‘them’. And he knew for sure that they weren’t hostile to him in anyway. Which could only mean … that they had a plan.
Volesprit sighed. ‘They’ could have told him before involving him in their mess. But now wasn’t the time to cry over spilt milk.
Volesprit looked at Marco with cold eyes promising the most unmerciful death possible and asked in a calm voice:
“What did you just called me?”
Roland tensed for a second, decided to ignore Volesprit’s question and claimed:
“I am Roland, a warrior level 60 of the ‘Red Warrior’ guild. What’s your name, mage?”
“Volesprit. A level 12 … mage. No guild.”
There was no way in hell he would give him more intelligence than his level.
Volesprit’s answer caused a huge commotion. Level 12? How in Freya’s name was that possible? They had expected him to be at least in the early fifties two months ago. And he just came back from a two months-long quest.
“Twelve? Just… what level were you last time?”
Volesprit looked at the man as if he was even more dumb than expected and answered:
“With just this level of strength? Level one, of course.“
Some people in the crowd shouted in fear:
“No way … ‘that’ was the strength of a level one mage? That can’t be …”
“Level one? Are you joking with me? That’s freaking impossible?”
“What do you take us for? You had to be at least level sixty … no, seventy to have this level of strength. Do you think we are that stupid?”
“But if he is right … What kind of monster is he to exert such strength when level one?”
“Is he cheating?”
While the crowd grew even more agitated, Roland thought furiously:
“For that to be the strength of a level one... Such humiliation, for the great ‘me’ to lose against a noob... No, that can’t be anything but a fluke. Pure luck. There is no way a level one could have fought the great Roland on equal ground.”
Roland came out of his introspection with the dumbest answer possible. He even started to believe that even then, with just luck, Volesprit had barely won. That with that ‘fluke’, they had been on equal footing.
“I, Roland, defy you, you filthy mage, in a duel. If you have any honor, fight me and die by my blade, or crawl on your feet and beg for my mercy. I might accept as I am a lenient person.”
Volesprit watched the man with a ‘Is he for real …’ look and smiled.
“I accept the duel. Belial, Circe, Cat … please don’t interfere.”
“Yes, my lord.” x3
For the first time, the crowd noticed the ghosts who were hidden until now by Volesprit’s body.
“No way … isn’t that … ghosts?”
The only ghosts they knew of were high level undead of the ‘Marchael Crypt’. From what they heard, their average level was around 70. They were really hard monsters to kill without a bunch of mages and priests. Why did those ghost follow a level twelve mage. Was it because of this ominous dark aura?
Roland watched the ghosts dumbly for a few second, but dismissed the matter, as they wouldn’t interfere. His only enemy was this weak mage. Even if… he didn’t look that weak at all.
Roland mumbled for a few second ho how this was unfair, that that filthy sonnova *beeep* looked so strong with his 1m80 lean build, his dark aura and his ‘Phantom of the Opera’ cosplay when he, a righteous warrior with a big and shiny sword, was way stronger than that puny man.
Roland furiously sent a duel request notice to this - yawning - Volesprit who accepted silently and received a message - he dismissed in a second - from the system.
For accepting a duel while knowing the difference in level between you and your opponents, Honor stat created:
Honor +1
A countdown appeared before the players eyes. Roland concentrated. Volesprit didn’t. That infuriated Roland, who charged him as soon a the countdown dissipated. The bastard even dared to look the other way.
“You fucking asshole! Take that! ‘Bash’!”
One of the warriors simplest, but most powerful skill. Bash. A skill where one poured all his strength in a diagonal slash.
Volesprit looked at the attack with a smirk. Once again, was he for real? Such a simple attack couldn’t do. It had to be part of a strategy. But still, he wouldn’t give him any time to put said strategy in action.
Volesprit stepped in and called:
“Mana Overcoat.”
His hands now coated with his dark colored mana, Volesprit lifted his left hand and deflected the incoming attack while he used Roland’s momentum to give him a powerful counter in the form of a hook to the chin.
Roland fell on this butt, his legs unable to respond to his command.
You are stunned for ten seconds
Volesprit sighed and asked in a pained voice:
“Just how weak are you really. Shouldn’t a level 60 warrior resist a little more? To lose against a mage’s punch. How shameful.”
Of course, the level 12 mage - who hadn’t invested a single point in Strength, Agility or Vitality - wasn’t that weak. In fact, his stats were more or less on the same level as Roland when it came to those, thanks to the basic training and the souls’ buff.
The difference between them was in their skill levels - Roland swordsmanship was so poor that his ‘Sword Mastery’ was still beginner level 1 - and in how they used their body. While Roland had modified his appearance to fit the look of the ultimate warrior in his view, Volesprit had stayed the same. No useless muscle or height to get in his way. Furthermore, he had, to begin with, a high level of proficiency in boxing.
Still, Volesprit’s remark hit home.
“You little shit!”
Roland struggled to lift his sword while stunned. Volesprit shook his head before such stupidity, stepped on his arm and coldly said:
“Haaa… Why don’t you just die? Dark Spear.”
A spear appeared and stabbed Roland in the heart. Volesprit kneeled and grinned while leaning on the dark spear, said:
“Always a pleasure to kill you.”
Before viciously turning it and killing him. The deed done, he called:
“Soul Eating.”
Got his infamy point message system, and went back to facing the crowd:
“Now… please state your business.”
The crowd grew silent for more than a minute as they exchanged private message with their friends. Then, an outsider - a man who wasn’t part of the ‘Red Warrior Guild’ - walked to the front and bowed:
“My name is Gawain. My friend and I, like most of the people here, travelled across the country to have the chance to meet the mysterious masked man whose fighting prowess we marvelled at, and to cross sword with him. You who took the path of darkness… allow us to defeat you.”
“I don’t have a sword to cross with yours, but I will take that as the metaphor it was meant to be. Now, Gawain, and you travellers who crossed over the country… I am… honored by your consideration of my skill. I would have prefered for things not to turn this way but…”
Volesprit closed his eyes and claimed:
Stolen novel; please report.
“In consideration of your determination… I will fight with you lot. However…”
Volesprit opened his eyes:
“I won’t be defeated here.”
The crowd suddenly froze as countless messages appeared before their eyes:
Lord of Darkness’ Presence Debuff now Active:
You are now in the state of fear.
Resistance to Darkness - 20%
All Stats -5%
Volesprit eyes shone with a ominous light. Unknown to everyone, Volesprit had activated his ‘Aura of Darkness’ skill a dozen times to activate his ‘Brand of Darkness’ buff. Then he activated his ‘Blood Lust’ and ‘Mind Break’ skills. It resulted in the creation of a brand new skill.
New Unique Skill Acquired: Lord of Darkness’ Presence
Apply a debuff to those with no Affinity with Darkness in an area of 100m.
Debuff: State of fear, Resistance to Darkness -20%, All Stats -5%.
Those with Darkness Affinity will bow before you.
Apply a buff to those with Affinity with Darkness in an area of 100m.
Buff: State of fear, Resistance to Darkness +20%, All Stats +5%.
In the crowd, everyone looked at the pop-up message with looks of disbeliefs.
While in the shadows of the forests, a man smiled, turned to watch his guildmates and said to his grinning counterparts:
“Looks like we were right. He is ‘the one’. Now let’s move.”
_________________________________________
A month ago (in game time), in Marseille
Raphael, whose ingame alias was Rael watched the new video posted on the net eagerly:
“Impossible… so he really did exist?”
Raphael was a VR veteran player. But in all the game he had played, ‘his’ presence had always been lacking.
“If he really appeared … then RR will really best of all games by far.”
A presence he and his friends had always discussed about.
The ‘Absolute Ruler’.
Rael like all his friend was a PK. The game of a PK was good but short. Mostly because of their lack of organisation. Even if they had more experience in PVP, Player Killers couldn’t win against numbers, even when they were in a guild. After all, they fought against the world. No town accepted them.
That’s why Rael and his friends had spoken about the creation of their own town, or even their own country, for a long time. But a country or even a town needed a ruler. And PKers were a prideful bunch.
That’s when they thought of the ‘Absolute Ruler’. A man so strong, so dark, that none would dare oppose him. A man before whom even a whole army would hesitate. A sort of demon king. Until now, this notion was but a dream. Until now.
_________________________________________
Back to the story
“It is him. Now, do you bunch still doubt. Or can we proceed and greet our ‘Absolute Ruler’?”
Before Rael had even finished his speech, the five dark guilds who lied in wait in the woods had left their hiding.
“Yes … I thought so too …”
With a cry of joy, Rael left the forest cover and charged at their Ruler’s enemy.
At the same time, two other groups left the wood cover, leaving only one group behind.
_________________________________________
A month ago (in game time), Paris
“Have those fools turned crazy … I better report the matter to madam!”
Angelique, the secretary of Lance corporation hurried to the meeting room and entered without knocking:
“Angelique… what’s going on? Are you out of your mind? Interrupting our reunion, and risking to cancel our business arrangement… Dear president Losaque, I’m sorry for my subordinate’s rudeness, I …”
“Madam, It’s about James …”
Mrs. Lance stopped in her tracks and turned violently:
“What happened? Why didn’t you say it sooner?”
She turned to president Losaque and said coldly:
“Our meeting is adjourned. Please consult my staff for the date of a new meeting.”
Mrs. Lance left the room, followed by Angelique, who summarized the situation along the way:
“Those filthy little … Angelique, how much of our ‘personal’ staff is actually playing Royal Road?”
“Including me, that makes six of us .”
“Okay, I give you the lead of the operation. Give the staff their new mission. The Lance family will pay for all the expenses. Just. Slaughter. Them. All!”
A few hours later, Angelique answered in place of their young master, and explained he wouldn’t be able to appear before he finished his quest. Then she called her team and entered Royal Road.
_________________________________________
Back to the story
Hitomi, her eyes burning with anger, said furiously:
“I had enough of this bullshit. Angelique, let me go. My blade craves for blood.”
Hitomi, and her twin sister Kasumi, were the daughters of the head maid of the Lance family. As such, they had grown with the young master, and were a little … hot-blooded when he was concerned. Even if one couldn’t see it when looking in Kasumi’s eyes, who were devoid of any emotion.
“Yes, let’s break their bones, tear their flesh apart, puncture their organs, burn their …”
She might look devoid of any feelings, but that made it even more scary when she said such atrocity with a blank face. Still, none of them flinched. As all of them were more of less picturing the same kind of killing methods.
The only one who refuted her was the old butler of the Lance’s family, Jean.
“Hitomi, my dear. You’re lacking any kind of sophistication . What do you think the young master would think of this kind of this kind of speech?”
That was the only kind of rebuttal that worked on Kasumi who didn’t care much for her companion’s opinion.
“Angelique! I want to go!”
Hitomi continued to complain as Angelique didn’t bother to answer. They had no right to interfere in the young master’s duel. But she wouldn’t permit the other guilds ganging up on him.
As soon as the young master’s presence hit them, Angelique said:
“Let’s go. And don’t forget. Don’t let any of those who oppose him live. Jean, did you register the scene?”
“Yes, Angelique.”
“Good… madam will want to know who our enemies are. Now, no mercy!”
Angelique, followed by Jean, Hitomi, Kasumi, and their remaining companions, Marie and Juliette.
Marie and Juliette had stayed quiet until now, but that didn’t mean that they didn’t care. They just cared too much.
Marie was the Lance’s family chief of security. She was twenty six years old. The sight of the young master surrounded by those enemy froze her blood. Until now, she had never failed her mission, inherited from her father, the Lance’s family last one who occupied her position. Had it been just for her, she would have slaughtered the lot months ago.
As for Juliette … she was James Lance’s nanny. She had turned sixty years old this year, but had bought the capsule as soon as she heard her little one decided to play the game. James was the child she had never had. She loved him from the core of her soul, and would literally stop before nothing for him. Today, some people decided to disturb her little one’s haven. They would pay dearly for that. She swore it on her soul.
_________________________________________
A month ago (in game time), in Nice
In a chamber, a shadow watched the video with a big smile. When the video was over, she sighed and muttered in a low voice;
“You might have a mask on but… it’s you… at last…”
The shadow smiled radiantly:
“Found youuu…“
But soon enough, the shadow went back to its usual cold face and muttered:
“I guess things are going to go out of control… I better hurry up.”
_________________________________________
Back to the story
The leader of the last group was a woman. Her in-game name, was the same as her real one. The name of one of the most infamous witch ever, Morganne. Like her, Morganne was now a … very unique kind of witch. A witch who now boiled in fury. Those scums dared to mess with her James. HER JAMES. SHE WOULD FUCKING DESTROY EVERY LAST OF THEM!!!!!
As for how did Morganne know it was James … well, it was obvious. At least for her. She had spent so much time, spying on him, stalking him, that this much was obvious. His every feature was engraved in her mind. She knew even before hearing it that his avatar name was Volesprit. She knew everything there was to know about his taste in book after all. How much he loved this masked character, and despised la Dame, the Lady. But loved the Asservis (the Taken) system.
Morganne turned to her… followers and ordered:
“If he loses as much as a single hair… then you better don’t come back alive. Because I will make sure that the faulty won’t stay unpunished.”
Her followers shook like a leaf in the wind. Now, the only thing they could think of was how they better turn into meat shield than letting him be touched… letting the dark guy be touched wasn’t even an option. To begin with, the mistress knew no mercy. And she was even less merciful when it came to the dark one.
Morganne left the forest cover. Behind her, a horde of goblins. On each of their arm was a tattoo. A mask tattoo.
_________________________________________
Back to present
Marco watched what remained of his troops get slaughtered. In the center of the field, the man butchered dozens of men… with GHOSTS?? Come again, GHOSTS? The two girls spammed their plasma shots in all direction, while the giant one called absurd skills like ‘Absolute Destruction’, ‘Annihilation Kick’, ‘Dragon Slayer Punch’,‘Slaughter of a Thousand’, and ‘Malkir Devastation’. The man himself ate a few dozen souls and pushed back all of those who advanced.
In the south, the Lance family’s troops were… almost as monstruous as the man himself. Hitomi and Kasumi who had become a Samurai of the Eclipse and a Demonic Shinobi were almost too fast for the eyes to follow, while Angelique, who was a Hell Maid, made opponents into ribbons with cooking knives. And Paul, who had taught the young master boxing, a Black Butler, was overtaking the troops with both speed and strange skills. Finally, Marie, who was a Giant Slayer, cleaved herself a path to the young master with a giant axe, while Juliette, who was a Cultist - a Dark Priest - followed her serenely.
The only thing they had in common was their class orientation … they all leaned toward Darkness. Which meant they were reinforced by the buff while their enemy were weakened.
In the North, Morganne’s goblins horrified all the players. When one thought of a goblin, one would expect ‘weakness’ and ‘stupidity’. None of that was to be found in her goblin. Well, they were still stupid, but Morganne had trained them and now, effectively following her lead, they were cutting her a path to Volesprit’s location.
The dark guilds were dispatched everywhere to help them suppress the biggest part of the threat.
At last, Morganne pierced the crowd and reached Volesprit. Or should have. As she froze a few second before the actual contact. Before Volesprit, a sword in the hand stood this fat pig of a chief, that filthy ape.
“Now, evil mage, the time has come for you to die!”
That slime uttered those words while laughing like a hyena and lifted his sword. All the anger Morganne had contained so far overflowed.
“Why don’t you just die yourself, you pig!”
Morganne used her staff to pierce his back, make him fall, and then turned it viciously until that scum turned grey and died.
Then, realising how unlady-like her actions were, Morganne blushed and stuttered:
“Hi, James. Please … please forget what you just saw. That wasn’t really refined.”
Volesprit stood there, completely frozen,wondering :
- Why the hell was Morganne here?
- How the hell did she recognize him?
- What did just happen?
- Why did she kill him?
- Weren’t they together?
- Why was she that red?
...
...
...
A young man entered the forest by the East, running as fast as possible. His eyes shone with an unearthly light. At his finger was a ring. The young man’s name was Rin.