Chapter 13

Yokes of a Clown

Asher's boredom was interrupted halfway through the 'timer' until the next stage. Woken up from a midday nap, his bedroom became a host to several dozen screens hanging in the air in front of him. It took him a few moments to wake up and properly realize what was happening--rather than notifications as before, they were similar to the screens he was presented with at the end of the previous stage where he got to observe the three other people.

Except, right now, there were several dozen of them, and the people within the screens were all the newcomers from yesterday. He even recognized a few that had standout features, and it was clear that few, if any, had fear in their eyes. The stage had just begun, after all.

Sighing, he went and grabbed a jug of wine before returning to the bedroom and focusing back on the screens as he sipped from the jug slowly. From the curiosry glance he’d already seen that the stages were different--it wasn’t a plain with knee-high grass, but rather a desert with sand dunes everywhere. So, any and all ‘advice’ they purchased... didn’t matter. Even the monsters were different--rather than spiders or goblins, they faced strange, masked humanoids with one arm shaped into a sickle-like weapon.

It didn't take long for panic to set in for most--in fact, as soon as they registered that their expectations did not meet the reality, he could see their relaxed expressions become gripped by fear and confusion.

The first person to die was a young girl, barely fifteen from her appearance. She wielded a sword and in panic began to retreat backwards without realizing there were monsters behind her. Two slashes of the weapon split her whole, ending the flame of her life. Despite the gruesome death, all traces of it vanished within just a few moments as the winds carried the sand that buried her.

She was the first, but far from the last. One by one, they began to fall. Flustered, terrified, horrified, cowering in fear, despondent of their fate. While a few managed to struggle for a little while, they, too, began to perish under the weight of the impossible.

In the end, from the sea of nearly two hundred... only three survived. Bloodied, beaten, and savagely ground.

The screens disappeared and the pang of pain trickled through him. It’s coming, he thought for a moment before opening his eyes and finding himself back on the plaza.

Before anyone uttered a word, one of the survivors beelined for Isabella and yoked her jaw with his knee. She snapped back like a twig and fell onto the ground. At the same time, another survivor started fighting with Mira who was better prepared to fight back. However, the fuel of abyss-deep rage was not something that could be quenched easily.

Soon enough, the three survivors began to scream and attack jointly, kicking, punching, biting, and doing anything they could to inflict pain.

Asher looked away from the brawl and toward the sky. Though, naturally, he couldn't see it, he was certain there were eyes watching all this, laughing, jeering, mocking the state of affairs. It was an affair befitting the barbaric beasts, after all. He could virtually hear their laughter ringing out like the sound of war drums, over and over and over, unstoppable.

The brawl lasted nearly twenty minutes before everyone ran out of strength. Even Qut eventually went ahead and joined, trying to separate the two groups. Only Asher stood on the side, seeming as though none of it had anything to do with him. He likely alienated himself from ‘his group’ in the process but he hardly cared.

There was blood and teeth everywhere, and broken bones in the dozens.

“Why didn’t you help us, motherfucker?!!” Zane cursed away.

“’cause he’s a little bitch,” Isabella joined.

“Maybe he gets hard on watching other people roll around?” Gerard jeered.

“... didn’t you guys see the screens?” Asher asked.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“What screens?” Mira spat a mouthful of blood in his direction. “Come over ‘ere and show me that screen.” he saw it in their eyes--they truly didn’t know what he was talking about.

“Heh,” he grinned, not at them, however, but at the sky above. “Well, I just had the privilege of watching everyone besides those three die in the most brutal ways imaginable. Impaled. Eaten. Ripped apart. Surgically cut up. All so in a desert when you sold them information about some grassy plain.” the three new survivors managed to sit up as well, bruised and swollen already, and look at him. “Haven’t you morons realized it by now?”

“...”

“Everything is done for the entertainment,” Asher said. “And you just provided them with half an hour of laughter.”

“That ain’t got nothin’ to do with me,” Mira said, slowly walking toward him. “If they died, it means they were weak. And if they’re weak, they should die. Nobody gave me nothin' either, but I'm here. So, you fuckin' yapper, it's about time--" Before she could finish, Asher struck her directly in the throat. At the same time, he swept her legs with his and, as soon as she fell down, pinned her by pushing his foot against her neck. While she struggled to realize what happened and free herself, he ignored her and turned to the rest.

"I don't care what you do. Frankly, for all I care, you all can rip each other's heads off. Maybe strip naked and dance around the plaza for the fun of it. Just, you know, don't involve me. I'll be my own entertainment. Or, well, I'll kill you. Yank your balls, twist your nips, shove my finger through your eye and into your brain, and swirl around 'till you're hearing colors"

Glancing down, he saw Mira trying to pull his leg away. As soon as their gazes met, she stopped and relaxed, forcing a smile. Asher rolled his eyes and lifted his leg, walking away toward the tavern. Halfway there, a screen appeared next to him, floating along. He glanced at it and smiled invisibly.

[Your antics have amused a Lord!]

[You have been Blessed temporarily!]

Vampiric Desires [Common] -- killing an enemy has a chance to restore 1 Health. If at full Health, overheal into a Shield (max up to 10) -- Lasts 2 Stages

He theorized for a moment now precisely this--that the supposed promised Blessings weren’t necessarily tied to the ‘performance’ during the stages, but rather performance. However, during the stages where one mistake can be the difference between life and death, at least for now, he had little room to perform; outside, though, was a different story. There was a chance that somebody else was already blessed--perhaps who brawled the best, maybe that kid that threw the first knee into Isabella’s jaw. But he got his by simply posturing.

True, it was only for two stages, but it was simply a test of a prototype thought. Now that he knew, he could work around it.

Sitting down in the tavern, he didn’t order anything, simply going through the listings. There were quite a few more things to buy other than the wine, but they all cost far too much. The cheapest meal--a single hard-boiled egg--was 250 Souls. It simply wasn’t worth sacrificing several upgrades for just one egg. However, it was indicative of the future where he’d be earning thousands of Souls per stage and where upgrades would either be maxed out or cost in the tens of thousands.

He had to earn comfort by growing stronger--so much stronger that he could outpace the difficulty and enjoy luxury. However, he was still just taking baby steps. Even the Blessing was just a Common-rank one, as most awards seemed to be this early on.

There was also the fear that it would never get easier--that his numbers would get bigger, and that he'd be much faster and much stronger, but so would the monsters he'd face. There was nothing more to it, though--he just had to survive.

It was strange, the onset of the will to live. It felt almost alien to him as he couldn’t recall ever wanting life as much as he wanted it now. The very fabric of him as a person, he felt, was being pulled back at the seams and retrofitted into something that could battle this world.

Deep down, however, he was still himself--there was still the same anxiety, the same fear, the same self-loathing masked under the layers of denial.

As soon as he returned to the cabin--unbothered by the others after his little speech--he started the workout session. He swore to himself that he wouldn’t skip it, even if he was extremely tired. At least once a day--if for nothing else but for a clear state of mind. Even if it wouldn’t help him get stronger in the literal sense, considering how much dead-weight time there was, working out was a nice way to kill it and find some level of happiness with living inside the windowless prison.

He finished all of his food and drank a whole jug of water at the same time, filling himself up fully, and then waited patiently on his bed. He’d even tried meditating--and even though he wasn’t good at it, it was still better than getting lost in his own thoughts and drifting within them forever.

The pang of pain was the signal--darkness surged and swallowed him whole before spitting him out into the familiar scenery. He was back in the field, grass submerging him below his knees, the wind caressing his cheeks softly. A window appeared in the front, detailing the stage once more.

Quest: Grassy Lowlands [Final]

Defeat Monsters: 0/10,000

Defeat Boss: 0/1

Reward: Unlocks Blacksmith / Personal Servant / Adventure Center

+1000 Souls, +10 Divine Gems

Unlocks Titles, Cabin Upgrades

Bonus Reward: 7 Days Grace Period, 2x Jugs of Fresh Water

Start every Stage with a +1 Upgrade on the Starter Weapon