The Chosen didn’t move as slowly as Corban had been planning. The main reason: the people of Ember, though perfectly willing to hurl insults at any human that walked by them, didn’t particularly care what the Chosen did.

In fact, they seemed quite happy that they were packing up and leaving the vicinity.

Jade, who was head of ‘security’ for the tent city, thought it would be better for them to move as a group instead of going a few at a time. She cited safety in numbers as the main reason and Corban didn’t have any reason to argue.

So they packed up the camp entirely—tents and all—and moved as a group.

They paused at the base of the mountain for a quick safety briefing from Jade.

“If you see any signs of frostbite, find a healer,” she called, her message being spread to the back through telephone-style repetition. “And if you need an extra blanket, talk to Jeff or me. Call out if you see a monster as well.”

“Most of the monsters here are below Level 10,” Corban added. “There aren’t many, and we should be able to gang up and take care of anything that attacks us.”

Corban glanced nervously in the direction of Ellis. Something didn’t sit right with him. Their exit had been too easy. With how much attention they had been garnering over the last twenty-four hours—particularly negative attention—he expected someone to try to follow them.

“If you see anyone who shouldn’t be here, point them out to me,” Jade said, seemingly following the same line of thought as Corban. “We’re not the strongest group out there, but we can protect ourselves. We’ll be sleeping in warm beds by tonight.”

Corban wasn’t sure it would be that easy, but he didn’t contradict her. She seemed to have everything under control, and he didn’t want to undermine her authority.

“Lead the way,” Jade said, turning to Corban.

He nodded and started up the mountain, following the same path he had used earlier that day.

It was a lot slower with four hundred people in tow.

Jade walked next to Corban, keeping a lookout for anything hostile while Jeff kept up a running conversation about everything he knew about Ember.

“If your System was broken, you probably didn’t see any of the plans,” Jeff guessed.

“I saw some details, but nothing coherent,” Corban said.

“Well, the main plan was to travel in larger groups so we would be easier to coordinate. After that, we were supposed to seek out a nearby city and request refuge—as you can see, that part didn’t work out so well.

“The capital of Helia was supposed to be one of the more pro-chosen cities, so the fact that we were turned away so emphatically doesn’t bode well for the other groups.

“After we found a place to stay, we were supposed to look into ways of contacting each other. Ms. Lindale didn’t think the forum would be maintained after the tutorial and so far, it looks like she was right.”

“We didn’t receive any of our special rewards either,” Jade said. “We got totally cheated.”

Corban frowned, not sure what Jade was talking about.

“Jade was our Tutorial Leader,” Jeff explained. “She was supposed to get a special reward after the tutorial was over based on how well we survived, but the System didn’t give her anything special—not even a title or a few extra coins. We’re still not sure if she was the only one who didn’t receive her reward or if the System decided to nix them altogether.”

“We can probably ask Amon when we get to the hub,” Corban said. “The Keepers are more intelligent than the tutorial chatbots. He might know what the Administrator is thinking.”

“Or at least, he might be able to tell us why the tutorial ended early,” Jade agreed. “I admit, one of the reasons we were willing to follow you here was because we’re hoping to find some answers.”

“Some food would be nice, too,” Jeff said.

Corban wasn’t sure if there would be food or not. Rayna was supposed to be looking into that part, but they had no way of contacting each other at the moment.

Jeff explained more of the plan, but Corban ended up forgetting most of it. It didn’t seem like relevant information, considering step one had already been a failure. He let the man prattle on because he was fairly sure Jeff was just trying to keep his teeth from freezing together.

After the first few rounds of frostbite, they gave up on the self-reporting system and assigned a few healers to travel up and down the line to heal anyone who needed it.

A couple mages tried to use Fireball to warm the area, but they only succeeded in catching a few trees on fire and attracting a small horde of Robis.

The attack left several injured, but no one died, and the healers had the injured back on their feet before the Robis even started to rot. They hurried away from the scene, covering their noses against the overpowering stench that rose from the pile of dead monsters.

Corban even managed to gain a level. He was Level 5 now, which was a far cry from the rest of the group, but much better than he expected to be doing at this point.

They had just reached the hub when things started to go sideways.

Someone shouted something in a foreign language and cloaked figures jumped out of the forest, surrounding the group. Someone in the front screamed and the Chosen moved closer together, drawing their weapons.

As one of the lower-level players, Corban was forced away from the edge and into the protected group in the center. It hurt his pride a little, but since he wasn’t really good at using his bow, it was probably for the best.

“Well, well, well!” a man’s voice said, his English the same unaccented variety of System translation. “What have the little Robis brought us to?”

“We don’t want any trouble,” Jade declared.

Corban stood on his tiptoes, trying to get a glimpse of their assailants, but they were wearing hoods and cloth over every inch of their skin, giving him no hint of what they actually looked like.

“We don’t want any trouble either,” the man next to the leader said. The hissy quality of his voice snuck through, even with the System translation. “Sssso how about you all go back down the mountain and leave usss to our new cabin.”

“This hub belongs to the Chosen,” Jade declared.

The bandits laughed, a cacophonous mix of various clicks and screeches.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Here’s how this works, little Initial,” the leader said. “We follow you, you lead us to a prize and you go home empty-handed.” He raised his hand, bringing a fireball to life on his palm and playing with it like a ball. “It’s not particularly difficult to understand, but I can explain it slower if you need me to. I know the Chosen are dumber than a nail in a wine barrel.”

“And Emberians are uglier than a shriveled up prune,” someone muttered from behind Corban.

The man turned their way. “Who said that?”

Corban glanced back at the speaker. He was a teenager, no more than fourteen or fifteen and he was only a Level 10.

The leader of the bandits growled and easily pushed Jade aside.

The rest of the Chosen made a hole for him, cowering away from his name tag, which was visible to all.

[Repal Leeds — Level 83]

[Yndar]

Corban didn’t move. He wasn’t going to rat a teen out to this guy.

His heart raced as he lifted his chin. “I’m surprised you even know what a prune is, you butter-aged goat.”

Everyone backed away from Corban as Repal neared, only his glaring yellow eyes visible under his hood.

“Do you have a death wish, human?” the man growled.

“No,” Corban said truthfully. “But it seems to me like you’re a damn bully. We found that hub fair and square and it’s already been claimed. The Keeper won’t let you take it from us either, just ask him yourself.”

Repal snorted. “I can handle a single keeper. What is he, a Lyna? A Cervinale, perhaps? Those horned idiots breed like Robis.”

Corban shook his head. “You know, you might be right. How about I introduce you to him? I’m sure once he sees your muscly band of brutes he’ll walk away without a word.”

Corban wasn’t sure if Amon could really do anything, but they had a better chance with him than they did on their own. He was part of the System, wasn’t he? That had to count for something.

“Hmm…” Repal said, pretending to think it over. “I think I have a better idea.”

The fireball he was holding grew larger and he flung it at Corban’s chest. The basketball sized projectile catapulted Corban off his feet, sending him flying into the group of people behind him. He heard a crack that he was fairly sure was his arm breaking, but he couldn’t tell amidst the full body throbbing that accompanied his less-than-soft landing.

Healers rushed to his side, but the bandits attacked them if they got near Corban.

“The smart mouth doesn’t get healing,” Repal yelled. “You can help others if you want. I’m not a monster, after all.”

Corban spat up blood, his head swimming from the pain. At least the fireball hadn’t burned through his clothes. Rayna’s ridiculously overpowered cloak no doubt saved his life.

That said, it did not have any sort of healing ability built in, which would have been nice right about now. Corban healed himself as far as he could with his Basic Heal spell, but it barely did anything. He only succeeded in giving himself a headache when his Mana got too low.

“Let’s see what’s inside, shall we?” Repal said, rubbing his hands together as he approached the hub.

Corban ignored him. He was dumb to think Amon could help. A good tongue lashing from the Keeper wasn’t going to stop the bandits. At best, they had just lost the hub, at worst, they were all about to die.

It was a short run. Maybe he would wake up in bed and find out this was all a dream.

“Who are you and what are you doing on my mountain?” a cool voice asked.

Corban looked over at Amon, who was standing in front of his hub, his expression hostile.

“You must be the keeper we’ve heard so much about!” Repal said with a twisted grin. “I must say, you’re a species I haven’t seen before. Did a Cervinale and a Pyria have a baby?”

Amon’s expression didn’t change. “You seem to be under a misconception. This is my land, and I will not tolerate fighting outside of the dungeon. It never ends well.”

Repal laughed. “Dungeon? Are you really trying to pull that old myth out as a bid to try to save yourselves. You might as well tell me the mountain will open up beneath my feet and gobble me up.”

The other bandits laughed, the sound grating on Corban’s ears.

“Corban,” Amon called, ignoring the man’s comment. “I take it these people are not with you. Are they hostile?”

“Toward who?” Corban asked, spitting out another glob of blood in the snow. “Actually, scratch that, he’s an asshole all around.”

“You little—” Repal raised his hand to throw another fireball in Corban’s direction but nothing appeared on his hand.

His eyes widened and he flexed his hand, still nothing happened.

“What’s wrong?” one of the other bandits asked.

“My spells aren’t working,” Repal hissed.

“The Dark Age?” someone asked in a shrill voice.

“No, everything else works. It’s just—” the speaker paused. “A penalty title? How the hell? The Administrator stopped giving those out years ago!”

“It will last for twenty-four hours,” Amon said coolly, addressing all of the bandits. “I would suggest you leave here before then. I have left your stats intact to allow you to protect yourselves on the way down the mountain.”

“Or maybe, I’ll kill you and the title will disappear!” Repal snapped, swinging his fist hard at Amon.

Amon didn’t even flinch as the man passed right through him, landing his punch on the hub wall.

There was a hard crack and Repal screamed in pain, cradling his badly misshapen fingers.

“Screw this!” someone shouted. “I’m not dying on this hunk of ice.”

The bandits scattered in all directions, leaving their leader behind to fend for himself.

“I’ll be back,” Repal hissed. “You better sleep with one eye open.”

It took Corban a moment to realize that the bandit was talking directly to him. Great, just what a Level 5 Healer needed: powerful enemies.

Repal ran away so fast that he was just a blur as he retreated down the mountain.

Amon nodded. “All right, someone tend to Corban’s wounds, if you don’t mind, then come inside. This mountain is too cold for players of your level.”

He disappeared, drawing a gasp from the watching humans.

Corban grinned. “If you think that’s impressive, wait until you see what’s inside.”

* * *

Repal made it down the mountain in one piece. He was a Level 83 Magical Swordsman; there was no way he would die to a few mountain rats.

Corban Wells. He wouldn’t forget that name any time soon. He didn’t know what his connection was to that Keeper, but Repal could practically smell the drakas.

There weren’t enough coins on the planet to pay for complete control of the System, but Repal didn’t need to sell control, he could just sell favors. A stat tweak here, a new spell there—maybe he could even increase his own level without having to hunt.

Omnipotence at his fingertips.

One look at his penalty title woke him up to how insane this plan actually was.

Disturber of the Peace — You have initiated a fight in the vicinity of a dungeon and caused significant bodily harm to a player who is more than fifty levels below yourself. You are barred from using spells or skills for the duration of the penalty and you will lose one point in each of your stats for every minute you spend on Mount Herdo.

-30 Strength

-30 Dexterity

-30 Endurance

-30 Vitality

-30 Intelligence

-30 Wisdom

-30 Luck

Remaining Duration: 23h 29m 19s

Repal shook his head. It was legitimate. No one could mess with the System except for the Administrator himself.

Since Corban Wells was obviously not the Administrator, the only explanation was that this Keeper had taken over the role.

But how? If there was a new Administrator, that meant that the System hierarchy had changed—something that hadn’t happened since the first Chosen stepped foot on Ember.

This wasn’t something Repal wanted to get mixed up in, but he didn’t want to walk away empty handed either. There was an easy way to make a quick coin without putting his life on the line.

Repal made it back to the city in record time, heading straight for the healers to mend his hand, then he went to the closest information broker in the capital.

“Evening Repal,” Umal said idly, pouring him a drink.

The bar was nearly empty, with only the usual bodyguards at the door to overhear their conversation.

It was perfect.

“Evening Umal,” Repal said with a grin. I have a juicy bit of information for you, if you’re looking to buy.”

Umal’s bored expression didn’t change. “If this is about the humans, I’ll save you the trouble. I’m well aware of your little ambush this morning and I know how badly you failed. You should really be more careful who you hire. Loose lips are dangerous in your line of work.” He glanced at Repal’s name tag. “Then again, you were never the brightest of the bunch, were you?”

Repal resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “My level scares the weaklings. It’s good for minimizing the damage to the goods I steal.”

Not that he needed to tell Umal that…

“Unless you have something actually interesting, you can get out of my pub.”

Repal paused as if hesitating. Information fetched a better price if the broker thought you didn’t want to give it up. Repal planned to get his money and his revenge all in one fell swoop.

“I have something else,” he said, lowering his voice. “But it will need a truth spell to verify. And I need payment up front; three hundred gold drakas.”

Umal’s surprise broke through his bored mask. “What makes you think I’ll hand over three hundred gold drakas before hearing what I’m paying for?”

“Because my info has to do with the System update,” Repal said, piquing the other man’s interest. “And the new Administrator hiding in the mountains.”