Madam Shellton sprinted off to an early lead, her turtle arms waving comically as she built up momentum. Derek Shelley was right behind her, and even with the computer graphics I could see he was gritting his teeth with the effort of maintaining that pace.

In stark contrast to his intimidating start, Dr. Slowand seemed content to lightly jog, bringing up the rear in a good natured manner. The middle was a mass of the other 5, all Outer Sect disciples, all young and full of vigor.

I leaned back in my chair and patted my belly as I brought another handful of pringles to my mouth. Truly, it was a delight to see children turtles grow into adult turtles before your very eyes!

I reached for more pringles, but was annoyed to find that the can was empty. I shook the fist clasping the can at the sky to express my rage, but then quickly dropped it as my interest was pulled back to the race.

The portion of the race along the river was just a straight stretch, pretty much a full out sprint to start. This revealed a bit of my sadistic character, because I wanted the racers to get as tired as possible to start, and then struggle through the obstacles later.

Space was beginning to open up between the three groups. Madam Shellton’s long strides and Derek Shelley’s desperate sprint were pulling away slowly from the disciples. In the back, Dr. Slowand was falling even farther behind, perfect content to trot forward at a constant pace.

Just before the leaders were going to hit the turn, pulling away from the river and heading into the forest, a blue exclamation point appeared above Tortua’s head. Zooming out to try and keep everything within my vision, I clicked it.

“With that spiritual herb that you gave me, I think I can unleash one of the Stone of New Spring’s three powers. If you think it’s necessary…”

Her small avatar made a gesture towards the racers. Her tiny, slightly pixelated eyes gazed up, seemingly coming out of the screen and looking into my own. Shivering, I didn’t respond and I looked back towards the race, where now Madam Shellton was lengthening her stride, shooting into the woods.

There were too many variables in this game to keep track of. I had wanted to avoid giving Madam Shellton too many gifts, lest she become even more spoiled and arrogant than she already was. Well, I suppose it was in the turtle’s blood to be arrogant, but it would quickly become unmanageable if I didn’t make it at least seem like they worked for rewards.

Still, as if she knew I didn’t want Shellton to obtain the daisy, Tortua now offered me this alternative. It would be one thing if this was just the game’s way of letting me get my way, even after I had the race, but… Tortua was an enigma to me.

On the one hand, she seemed as if she was the fulcrum by which my personality impacted the turtles thus far, as had happened with the stone. On the other hand, the way her eyes followed me… I was under the distinct impression that she was judging how I acted.

How powerful was the AI in this game…?

But my thoughts were cut short as I saw Shellton pulling even farther ahead of Shelley as they both dodged among the thick trees. There wasn’t any clear path through the forest, but there also wasn’t much underbrush either. Therefore it was more like a series of pillars they could dodge around as they pleased, heading deeper to a towering oak that had to be touched before the racers could loop backwards towards my lodge.

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My gaze shifted to Shelley, who was behaving extremely oddly. Instead of looking worried, he seemed to have a slyness to his small turtle expression, his eyes darting back and forth. I saw his hand slip into his shell, withdrawing an object. Mist immediately began pouring out of the object, obscuring the nearby trees.

But the mist continued spreading. I frowned at the screen, confused and somehow suddenly quite nervous. What was-

BOOOOOM.

The display shook, and for a moment I thought it actually shook. But no, it was just on screen. A large explosion rocked the forest, propelling the smoke to expand even more rapidly, quickly obscuring the outer disciples who looked very confused, and then ominously wafted towards the observers.

But as I watched, time seemed to slow, and a large purple exclamation point took up most of my screen. As it slowly dissipated, a message appeared.

In every sect there are moments that define what it will become. Some sects go onto greatness, while others disappear from the annals of history. Others will continue as they were, but even then, some are slowly devoured from the inside while drifting forward based on inertia while others are slowly building up energy to explode into greatness. In those moments, leadership becomes pivotal.

In this “moment of fate”, an unexpected event has occurred during a race to determine the future owner of the daisy. The location of the daisy itself is even in doubt under the swirling influence of the fog. How will you, as the wounded ancient of the Red-Eyed Turtle sect, respond? Hopefully you have prepared well.

During “moments of fate”, Face is an important resource. It will become more or less effective depending on your relationship with who you use it to affect. At the end of the “moment of fate” some Face may be earned based on the outcome.

This message is the last of the hints you shall receive as a new player of Vast Martial World. Further mechanics were not included and the beta, and current players may discover their wonders together. Good luck, and may you have many fortuitous encounters.

...Really? This was it? All the help I got?

Luckily, I did have a card to play, but I wasn’t sure what I should be doing. The message was certainly ominous, almost suggesting that this was planned to steal the Daisy. Derek Shelley allying with those oft mentioned traders? But in game time, they had never come. How could they…

No, that’s not important.

What’s more important is to think about what the message actually said.This is an important moment for the sect. What can I say to shape my cute little turtles? What can I do…?

Or…

How can I turn this to my advantage…?

I licked my lips and took a long drink of water. Then I spoke to Tortua, replying to her earlier exclamation point.

“How much control do you have over that ability?”

She hesitated, then said. “A little, but nothing overly fine. I can aim, but once they go…”

Nodding, I gestured imperially with my hand. Then, dumbly, I realized I had done these in reality, and the game Tortua had no way of knowing my answer. I quickly typed out a response.

“Use it. And if you can… aim it towards those members of the older generation. This is not their time.”

After a moment of stillness, Tortua reached within her shell and produce a small plant, which I assumed to be one of the herbs. She tapped it with her staff, then pressed it into the ground, saying “Grasping roots.”

Then I spent two Face, using the small menu that appeared. THe first point utilized my wounded cultivation base, clearing the fog in an area around the oak that was the halfway point, and my lodge, but leaving it everywhere else. The point of Face let me send another message.

“There are some things in this world that are important, and there are others that simply seem to be. The race will continue.”

Satisfied, I leaned back, eyes locked on the areas cleared of fog.