After scheduling three whole days to take down the King of Asteroth, I found myself sitting on my hands on the morning of the first day. I decided I would still log on and run around just in case Tabitha appeared in front of me and wanted to discuss the nation’s hopefully-not-bloody future, but there was nothing I could do to move things along any faster.

--Immersing, please don’t disconnect--

It was a bit early for Claire to be on just yet. For some reason, the almighty sharing-of-feelings that Mom and I had had last night resulted in an extremely restful sleep. I woke up with the sun and didn’t even lounge around in bed for half an hour while gathering the willpower to get up.

Suppose I should think about the Great King Gonar quest while I wait.

My best course of action would be to get back to Piliton’s and dig through either his vast array of bookshelves or Penelope’s mega-brain. Both seemed likely to provide a whole lot more than what I was going off at the moment.

Paul had mentioned that Great King Gonar was a finishing smith — apparently someone who takes other people’s creations and shines them up or buffs them or something. My guess was that it had some kind of magical component to it, but it couldn’t be enchantments. That was a job for…well, an enchanter.

I opened my map and zoomed in as far as it would let me. It wouldn’t show me the names of things like Claire’s map seemed to, but I could read the contour lines to see what areas looked mountainous and inhospitable and perfect for an annoying Fetch quest.

In our questing and kahooting, Claire and I had managed to cover a good chunk of Asteroth. We hadn’t been thorough, but I was fairly confident that the stolen armour sets wouldn’t be hanging out in some rural village. My guess was somewhere well fortified, but more desolate and isolated than Bretonhal. We’d snuck our way into the capital far too easily.

“Watcha lookin at?”

I jumped, exiting my map and fumbling into my inventory in case I needed to pull out {The Glass Cannon}.

It was just Claire.

“Yeesh, were you watching porn on that thing? I’ve never seen someone exit out of their map so fast.”

“How’d you know I was on my map?”

“You frown really hard when you look at it.”

“Oh.”

We talked for a while. I bragged that I may or may not have a close connection to The Gladiator. Claire told me that my nose would grow even bigger if I told lies.

“What should we do today? I was thinking we dip back down to Piliton’s and see if we can do some info gathering on Gonar. We might even get a temp job working on his land. That wouldn’t be a bad way to earn a wage until Tabitha comes back with an answer.”

I imagined what I could do if I dropped all my spare points into strength and offered my services on the farm. Pictures of myself dragging three plows using just my teeth flashed by, or the hot sun bearing down on me as I carried a stack of ten full barrels on my back.

Oh to be a horse.

Then I realised that I was limiting my ambition in life to being a farm animal, so I stopped.

“I’m happy with anything. The measly three thousand krad you agreed to pay me doesn’t feel so important now that we’ve got twenty thousand on the line.”

“Only ten thousand if the Stakes kill someone. Or zero if they kill Piliton.”

“If they kill Piliton, we should go up to each of the sons and offer to kill the other for the same twenty thousand. They seem bland enough to go along with something like that.”

I tried to evaluate her and decide if she was serious.

“You don’t actually want to run a hitman business, right? That’s pretty fucked up.”

“Hitwoman. And they’re NPCs.”

I went silent. There was a sudden sour taste in my mouth, and its source was a young lady with orange hair.

There was a sharp prod in my side. Claire’s bow.

“I’m kidding, ya donkey. You think I wanna spend any more time here than I have to? I have morals too, you know. Don’t get all high and mighty because you happen to keep coming out on top.”

“You sure you got morals? What’s your answer to the trolley problem?”

“Isn’t that the test where the whole point is that sometimes both options can be justified? Regardless, the correct answer is doing a sick drift and hitting both.”

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

She poked me again. And again. I stubbornly walked on.

Maybe she’s right. I keep getting lucky and finding myself on the right end of things. But that doesn’t make them right.

It was a dangerous train of thought. The last thing I wanted to do with my Saturday was to slip down the rabbit-hole of ‘what if?’. I’d had enough misgivings about the debacle with the Asterian Invasion, and visiting the nation of Asteroth hadn’t helped my decision making.

Of course, it was far easier to just apply the blanket statement that said ‘they’re just NPCs’. But that implied the same of all the citizens of Bill’s Yard. Otto, Bill, Pilaf, Marge; all just NPCs.

And if I was going to look at it in that view, then the course of action that would have resulted in minimal loss of life or total global anguish would probably have been allowing the occupation of Bill’s Yard. Their way of life would’ve been forcibly changed, but walking through some of the outer villages of Asteroth presented that as being a potentially helpful thing. The roads were solid, the houses were built strong, there was about as much overt community spirit as anywhere else.

Stop.

There was no point looking back now. I’d done things, I’d won, and now I was here.

Hoping to continue the streak.

“What do you think of Asteroth so far?” I asked.

Claire had been trailing slightly behind for a couple kilometres. Each time I looked back, she seemed to have a new extract of a plant or flower in her palm, dissecting it into its various parts for further inspection. I assumed they were potion ingredients.

“It’s okay, I guess. If I’d spawned here, I think I would’ve enjoyed it, but Bill’s Yard has its own charms, too. And please for the love of all that is good and holy, don’t point out my hypocrisy. I know it’s there, and I know you’re thinking it.”

“Noted. If anyone asks, I’ll tell them you love the Yard so much that you want to rebuild it in the real world and live in a dusty old shack there.”

“Wouldn’t be the end of the world. Back to Asteroth though, I think my main interest is that there’s actually things happening here. Basically any of these towns has as many NPCs as the Yard, and therefore just as many quests if the developers wanted to dole some out. I think it’s a little weird that we got spawned in the most rinky-dink zone ever, considering Asteroth is just next door.”

“The Pickle Caverns seem pretty rinky-dink.”

She considered the thought. “I bet there’s a pretty easy way to escape, and then it would be just like the Yard. Or maybe just a lot of monster fights for EXP rather than NPC Quests.”

I was about to delve further into the mysteries of The Pickle Caverns when the trees and bushes on either side of us rustled. Four darkly dressed men stepped out onto the road, drawing weapons and grinning at us. We turned around to see the same behind us.

“Morning,” I said. “I assume you’re not part of the Stakes?”

I’d already equipped my shield and {The Glass Cannon}. Claire had her bow ready, but she kept it unstrung. I guessed that our newest friends wouldn’t take kindly to having an arrow aimed at their faces.

One of the men behind us chuckled, and the ones in front stepped forward. A voice called from high up in the trees to our left.

“You hear that, boys? ‘E thinks we’re all Stakes! Wouldn’t that be lovely!”

They laughed, somehow in perfect unison. I was surprised, because it wasn’t a funny comment in the slightest.

“Mayhaps they be thinkin’ we steaks, boss! Or they steaks! Ar could eaten up the lassie in a spit second!”

“Shut it, Cowree. Boss does the talkin’.”

“Yackk! Ya think ar take orders from yer, Bash? Shleep with an are oopen toonite ya booga.”

Bandits. Cool. Asteroth has officially been knocked down a notch on my list of holiday destinations.

Claire piped up. “You lazy fucks gonna make any demands? Hurry up and spit them out so I can tell you to fuck off!”

The bandits gave a collective ‘ooooo’ and jeered at us. Some threw stones, but they didn’t hit us. I took the chance to look around and see what we were facing. Three of the men in front of us had swords at their waists, and one had a bow with an arrow strung and ready to go. Behind us, there was a swordsman, two archers, and a man with a mace. He’d spoken before, apparently being called Bash.

“Our demands, if you must call them that, are as follo—”

“Fuck off.”

Claire notched an arrow and immediately fired in front of us, taking out an unprepared archer.

Wow. Eight to go.

We both scurried to the side of the road as the bandits recovered from their shock and charged us. She’d chosen well by taking out the archer — now there would only be projectiles coming from behind us.

And potentially above. The one in the trees was calling the shots.

I dipped into an embankment and ducked under an arrow. It lodged into a tree behind me with a wet thunk, shaking dew from the leaves. A dribble of sappy water fell down the back of my armour and shirt and I shivered.

“That all you got?” I goaded. I wanted to bring more of the bastards over to me so that Claire could use her bow to maximum effect. It wasn’t quite working — the archers were pinning me down while the swordsmen worked their way over to Claire. I couldn’t let the archers take their eyes off me — if they were able to stop Claire from poking her head up and firing at her combatants, then she’d be forced to pull out the dagger in no time.

She downed another.

Seven.

The swordsmen were nearly upon her. I had to act.

[Dash] [Spear Charge] [Critical Strike] [Tsunami Strike]

My ultimate wombo-combo had increased in size to include my newest skill. Using [Critical Strike] was slightly unnecessary considering I knew the human anatomy well enough to understand that most areas in the torso were vulnerable, but I wasn’t taking chances.

I wanted to end this fight quick.

The first bandit I encountered tried to bring up his sword in a desperate block, but it was too little too late. I recognised him as the one who’d spoken in barely decipherable words just prior. I changed trajectory slightly, and the spear took him in the ribs.

Six. And when [Tsunami Strike] spreads…

Simultaneously, the three remaining swordsmen bounced back from the range of the strike. Their movements were completely identical, right down to the way they stumbled backwards after the sudden change in direction.

And they’re even getting up in the exact same way.

It dawned on me that I wasn’t earning any EXP from Claire’s or my kills. I knew they weren’t monsters, but enemies such as the {Asterian Swordsmen} still earned me EXP, so these should have, too.

They had to be puppets. And I was pretty sure I knew who was controlling them.

“Claire! We aren’t earning EXP cos they’re just summons! The guy in the tree must be the main body!”

Realisation dawned over her as she fired off two more arrows in quick succession.

Five.

Four.

But counting was useless. There was a high-pitched cackle from above us, and a heavy body slammed down into the road. A crater erupted beneath his weight. All the puppets fell to their knees and crumpled into black sludge that coagulated and gathered under the feet of the man now before us.

“That was quick,” he said. “Time to have some real fun.”