Starting a fire is harder than it seems, Gregory found out shortly after he’d killed the strange boar. Freshly cut wood, as it turns out, wasn’t flammable. Meaning the collection of saplings he’d pulled down were useless to him, leaving him to go searching for older, dried wood. Thankfully it hadn’t rained since he’d been here so there was a gracious plenty of fallen branches. Even then it had taken nearly until sunset for him to get some tinder to smoke.

His first real meal wasn’t anything fancy, he tore strips of red meat from the dead boar, cooked them directly over the fire and gobbled them up without any care for the taste. The flavor wasn’t bad, but lacking salt or spices meant it was little more than charred pork. Thankfully Gregory was too hungry to care and happily gorged himself.

It took most of the next day for him to butcher and cook the remaining meat. He considered using the hide of the fallen beast to make a pack, but his fumbling attempts to extract as much meat as possible left the skin torn and ragged. Even if he knew how to clean and prepare the leather it was likely not in any useable shape. Instead, he wrapped the cooked meat in large leaves and used plant fiber to tie them up. Eventually he managed something resembling a bag, even if it felt flimsy and unstable, he figured it would hold enough for him to travel.

So, with a makeshift sack of meat under one arm and his spear over the other shoulder he began to follow the river downstream once more. With little else to do, now that his hunger was sated and he was at least somewhat confident in his ability to hide from any threats, Gregory thought about the odd situation he found himself in. Despite the near constant fear, hunger and confusion of the last almost a week, by this point, he felt… alive. Healthy. Maybe what the people in his old world said about his kind were right, that he was a natural hunter and warrior. Previously that thought would have brought forth feeling of guilt, but now he felt reassured by it. Where he came from might not have had a need for hunters or warriors, but it seemed this one did.

Each time he scampered up a tree to hide from a monster, and it simply passed him by, he felt better. The boar meat might be tough, overcooked and tasteless, but he’d hunted and cooked it himself. And that made it the best thing he’d ever tasted.

Three days later and his supply of food was running short once more, when he finally broke free of the seemingly endless forest, emerging into a large field of golden wheat. A wooden construct confused him for a long moment, as he wondered how plants could grow in such an odd fashion, before it struck him that he was looking at a fence. He hadn’t even been on his own for that long, barely more than a week, and yet he hadn’t recognized a fence. The thought of that made him laugh, despite himself, had he really gone feral that quickly?

Further along the river was a stone bridge, he was pleased to note he recognized instantly, and, after finishing off the last of his boar meat, he picked a direction on the road that the bridge served and began walking.

*****

Nathen stopped for a moment to catch his breath, looking up at the tree he’d been practicing his swordsmanship on. Ever since his battle with the mantis he’d felt like his skills had jumped forward, indeed it seemed like battle was the best way to get better. Which shouldn’t have been surprising to him, this was an action game after all. Fighting was kind of the point. It still helped to take some time out of combat to consolidate what he’d learned, like he had been doing here.

But even as he refined his new experiences into raw knowledge, he began to crave the next battle. He’d figured out that the tip of his blade was the deadliest, that the goal was to aim for the sword cuts to be deep enough to do damage, but shallow enough that the blade didn’t get stuck. And if the blade did stop, from either hitting bone or having been blocked, pull it back and recover as fast as possible because a counterattack was likely.

Thrusting was good for punching through armor, like the tough chitin of an oversized bug, or the thick hide of a horned boar. While slashing was best for inflicting crippling injuries that would incapacitate his opponent, if he could strike a weak point.

What he could learn from looking back on his last few battles, however, was drying up and he needed to test his new techniques. So after a short rest, including a bite of venison to eat and long sip of healing water he stood and went looking for trouble once more.

It was times like this he really wished he’d gotten the starter quest, wandering aimlessly and fighting random mobs was fun but it lacked any real goal. For a while he’d thought about going looking for something more, he hadn’t known where to start. Thankfully, shortly into this new hunt he heard something he hadn’t in a while, and which gave him hope to having finally found the plotline.

Shouted voices and running feet.

Eager to see what was happening he rushed to follow the voices. He could pick out barked orders, like a man shouting ‘over there’ and other short phrases, but he couldn’t figure out what was going on. At least, not until he crested a small mound and a woman, looking a bit younger than he was, wearing a fine dress that was splattered with mud ran into him.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

She gasped in surprise as she bounced off, Nathen only stumbling backwards a bit while she fell to the ground. The woman was quite pretty, he noted, but her eyes were filled with fear and surprise, not desire like the Mantis’s illusion. She was also clothed, even if the finery wasn’t really suited for the woodlands. Before either of them could say anything a small group of men in leather armor emerged from the forest behind her.

Instantly he realized what was happening, the woman was someone important, likely a noble or princess, and these men were chasing her. It was a corny hook for a game, but not a bad one, Nathen decided.

“Who are you?” One of the men demanded, leveling a spear in Nathen’s direction.

“No one,” Nathen shrugged, stepping between them and the woman and drawing his sword.

“Hand her over then,” he demanded.

“I don’t think I will.”

“Then die!” the spearman shouted and charged while thrusting his spear out.

Nathen had never considered himself much of a fighter, but he jumped at a chance to try out his new techniques. He knocked the spearpoint away with the base of his own sword, just above the hilt, with enough force to spin the man off his balance. Nathen quickly landed three slashes to the man’s wrist, shoulder and neck, sending him to the ground with a surprised gurgle.

The next two men looked surprised as Nathen quickly dealt with the first to attack him, and they balked at the thought of being next, exchanging glances nervously.

“What are you fools doing?” came a new voice as a new man emerged from the forest, he wore chainmail with a proper sword at his hip unlike the first group. Besides him were a half dozen more spearmen, if this was real life Nathen would have felt afraid, as it was he was simply excited.

“He… he’s an ascender, Sir,” one of the surviving spearmen said.

“Obviously,” the officer said with a roll of his eyes, “Sir Ascender, I don’t suppose we can talk this out?”

“I’d rather fight,” Nathen admitted.

“Very well,” the leader replied, motioning for the next two men to attack.

Perhaps bolstered by the idea of reinforcements, or eager to impress their officer, two more spearmen approached carefully. Rather than rush in they tried to stay at a good distance and use the reach of their spears to remain safe, but Nathen quickly overcame this strategy. Breaking past their attacks a few short steps brought him inside the guard of the first spearman where he landed several quick slashes. Most simply dug long cuts into the thick leather armor without hitting the flesh underneath but after getting a read on where the armor was weak Nathen struck these points with decent precision, leaving long bloody wounds under the man’s arm, side and thigh. All before either spearman could recover from his furious assault.

The second spearman quickly retreated as his friend collapsed under a furry of attacks, shooting nervous glances at the officer and his other comrades. After finishing off his second kill Nathen returned to where he started in his combat stance.

“It seems you have no qualms about killing,” the officer observed, “and your skills are quite good at that.”

“Thanks,” Nathen grinned, blood from his most recent target still dripping down his stained clothing, “I’ve been practicing.”

“Do you even know who it is you stepped in to protect?”

“Do I need to?”

“I suppose from the view of an outsider, a group of men chasing a lone woman through the woods can be seen a certain way,” the officer admitted, “and I doubt you’ll be willing to listen to my side.”

“I’d rather fight,” Nathen repeated.

“I see,” the other man sighed, “very well, you may have her for now. I’ve no desire to see more of my men cut down.”

“Sir, are we-,” one of the spearmen who hadn’t yet fought started only to be silenced as the officer held out a hand.

“Ascenders are odd beings, it’s best to not confront one needlessly,” he explained, “we shall retreat for now.”

Nathen said nothing as the odd men did as they said and pulled back, his feelings were mixed. On one hand they had seemed like real people, clearly the technology behind this game was far more advanced than he thought, which triggered an odd pain in the back of his mind at the thought of killing someone. On the other hand, their leader had seemed strong and was surely fun to fight. With a slightly disappointed sigh he sheathed his sword and turned to find the woman he’d stepped in to protect looking up at him in surprise.

“Why did you…” she asked softly.

“Oh, right,” Nathen interrupted, turning back to the bodies, “loot.”

Nudging each with a foot blue mist slowly began to escape the two corpses eventually forming into a leather vest and cap. Nathen quickly put the vest on, eager for any armor, but after trying out the hard cap he discarded it, it wasn’t comfortable and felt like it could get in the way during combat. He thought about storing it in his pack, but decided against it, figuring he needed it more for food than vendor trash.

“So you are an ascender?” the woman asked as Nathen turned to go.

“Huh?” Nathen asked, looking over where the woman had sat up, her knees to one side as she watched him with bit of fear, “that’s what I was told.”

“Why did you save me?”

“Cause it seemed like fun?” Nathen shrugged.

“Do you even know who I am?”

“Nope.”

“Yet you stepped in to save me.”

“Yup.”

“All because… you wanted to have fun?”

“That’s the short of it,” Nathen nodded.

“I was told Ascenders were… odd, but to fight for fun?” She commented.

“Yup, well, see ya,” Nathen said, turning to walk off.

“Wait!” she half shouted, scrambling to her feet, “you can’t just leave me here!”

“Why not?” Nathen asked, “unless you have a quest-line for me I’m going to go looking for another fight.”

“A… quest?” she stammered, “I don’t- I mean, yes, I have a quest!”

“Oh,” Nathen turned, suddenly interested, “what quest?”

“I… I…” she said, slowly, “I need you to protect me!”

“An escort quest?” replied Nathen with a groan.

“Umm, yes,” she responded nervously, “you… you just need to take me to Halvant, that’s where the Father is.”

“Mmm,” Nathen hummed as he thought, escort quests were always annoying, even if the escort target was as good looking as this woman. He almost refused on those grounds alone, but this was the first time he’d met anyone since he’d come here. Surely there were other quests, more fun ones, to follow. At the very least it would lead him to a town.

“Alright,” he decided.

“Thankyou, sir Ascender,” she said, looking relieved.

“Now, which direction is this… Halvant?”

“I was hoping you knew.”