It was a rainy day in the world of Dharti.

I was on my weekly visit to the farm. I hadn’t picked the best day, but I was thankful the shower was a bearable drizzle now. The guards from the previous week’s shift stood in a line in their human forms. I deactivated the spell on them, so that in the blink of an eye they were all monsters again. They could now go home and rest for a few days, while other monsters would guard the farm in their stead.

Just then a shout tore the air, and I could instantly recognize the human ring in it. Arrows came flying, but missed most of us. Still, three monsters were struck down.

“Lay down!” I hollered at the top of my lungs.

Two of the monsters were dead, but the third one was still alive, though the arrow was embedded deep into his neck, and he struggled to draw breath. I crawled to the Hornie.

I had three health vials that I had taken from Sam. I was about to put a vial to his lips when the Hornie’s body jolted and became still.

“He’s gone,” one of the other Hornies said in a tone of sadness.

I pursed my lips, accepting my failure to save the Hornie. I was a second too late. I put the vial back into my pocket.

I dared to raise my head a little. Which direction had the arrows come from?

“I see a movement there,” a young female Skhite whispered, pointing to the North-east. I peered hard. What I had assumed was a big bush was actually a barbarian player in a green tunic with a texture mimicking leaves. He was squatted behind a tree. There was a fat machete in his hand, and I suspected that a single swing of that blade could easily chop two monsters into four pieces at once.

I focused and got his details.

General Information:

Name: Conan

Affinity/Inclination: Player

Level:10

Health/Strength: 4700/5000

Weapons: Machete

Stamina: 170/500

Mana:899 /1000

Okay, Conan the Barbarian.

Definitely a far cry from the noobs that I had defeated in the forbidden tunnels. I guessed he had companions, and scanned the trees near him. A few meters away was a lady dressed in black robes, her face indiscernible behind all the tattoos that she had on it. Her name was Spellz. Level six.

Were there more players?

I found a female archer a couple of seconds later, majestic silver wings on her shoulder pads . She already had three arrows drawn towards us. The moment we stood up and she had a clearer aim, she would let go of the arrows.

General Information:

Name: Ladyswift

Affinity/Inclination: Player

Level: 15

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Health/Strength: 6829/7500

Weapons: swords and arrows

Stamina:2334/2500

Mana: 1432/1500

A small activity in my peripheral vision, and I detected yet another player—a sinister looking red-skinned man with a horned helmet, a black cape billowing behind him. He would have passed for satan in a stage act. A dazzling ball of glass shards magically floated over his palm.

And the next second the ball darted for us.

I realized it was meant to blast and rain pointy shards on us, taking us to a gruesome death.

“Run!” I cried.

I dashed for the forest, the monsters taking my lead.

I heard a few wails. Ladyswift had let loose her arrows and hit targets. Rapidly following this was an explosion. I felt a sharp pain in my ear. I touched it to find half of it gone, my fingers stained with blood.

I spotted the missing half of my ear impaled with a glass shard on a tree trunk. I wheeled back to see that at least seven blood soaked bodies were stretched on the ground near the edge of the forest.

A surviving Hornie had lost his right arm and leg, and was struggling to stand up, moaning pitifully.

I ran to him. He pleaded with me with his eyes to help. He failed to speak anything, and when he opened his mouth only cries of agony resulted.

I fumbled for a health vial in my pocket. But when I felt it, I never took it out. I just kept watching the Hornie until he bled to death, the cold glass health vial clutched in my hand.

I was in a fix. Had I made the right decision? A part of me was appalled. But the part of my mind that had stopped me from helping the Hornie now reasoned that I needed the health vials for myself.

The Hornie was just a piece of code in a game world. I was a person. The dead Hornie was not a person… right?

There was no time for contemplative thoughts. What was done was already done. The other monsters that had escaped the blast had scattered into the forest. I saw a Skhite some meters away from me. He was unscathed till now.

“Are you all right, Vicky?” he asked me.

“Run!” I yelled at him, so that he jerked in fright. “Run for your life! Run back to the village!”

And without waiting to see if he moved, I broke into a run myself.

I sprinted as fast as I could, jumping over fallen trees and bushes that lay in my path. I vowed not to stop until I was in the safety of my palace.

As I was moving forward a massive figure’s posterior abruptly appeared in my way. The barbarian, Conan. Overcome by inertia, I crashed into him. We tumbled down.

“Hey!” he growled, for he was as surprised as me.

He was turned towards the opposite direction when I collided with him. His machete had bounced away during the fall. By the time he was back on his feet and realized that he had dropped his sword, I was wielding the colossal weapon in my own hands. It had a growling tiger face on the hilt.

“Give that back to me!” he demanded.

“You killed my friends!” I snarled. The machete was quite heavy for me. But somehow I kept myself straight.

The barbarian frowned fixedly at me. He was trying to get my stats.

“You are one of those Eviluns,” he said. “Give that back to me!” The two of us were now slowly moving in circles like two big cats in a ring ready to rip each other apart.

“We were just trying to devise a way to avoid violence,” I said. “But no, you like to destroy our farms. You do not want peace. All you seek is blood.”

I was well aware that there was no way I could beat the barbarian alone. He stood at least four feet taller than me. And if his companions showed up then my fate was sealed. I sought to keep him engaged in conversation, while trying to come up with a plan to escape.

Could I try to hit his vulnerable parts? If your opponent was higher level than you, it didn’t mean all hope was lost, right? That I brandished the barbarian’s own fearsome machete and not some random weapon did put me at an advantage. My status as a King further tipped the odds in my favor, neutralizing the level differences between the two of us.

“You monsters want peace?” Conan laughed in mockery. “Are you out of your mind? That is the stupidest thing that I have heard—”

I surprised myself by taking a sudden swing at his throat with the mighty blade.

Conan jumped back to dodge it, but his fur boots slid on a root and he fell backwards on the ground.

I realized that chance had presented me with a unique opportunity. I did not let it slip.

I leapt forward and I raised the massive sword and drove it down into his heart. A thinner blade would have bent or bounced away from his steely chest. The heftiness of the machete helped to increase the force and the tip went into his chest like his ribs were made of butter.

Conan yelped even as drops of his blood landed on my face. In the last moments of his life Conan was desperately trying to withdraw a health vial from his pocket with a shivering hand.

I was not letting that happen at any cost. I yanked out the machete, raised the weapon again, and as Conan was transferring the health vial to his mouth, I cleaved his wrist. His hand—still holding the health vial—went flying.

Conan let out a last cry and he became still. I took a step back and observed him. He was a gory sight to behold. I wanted to throw up but somehow stopped myself from puking.

It’s just computer-generated blood, not real… not real at all! I told myself desperately to keep nausea at bay, even as my heart fluttered in my chest. He’s gonna respawn anyway.

I had no use of the machete now and its weight would only slow me down. I threw it away. If the other players in the group had heard Conan’s cries, they would soon come to see what was up. I resumed running in the direction of my palace.