-oOo-
Chapter 4: First Encounters
-oOo-
“Ah, we are finally getting out of the city,” Bemju commented lazily from his perch on Weed's shoulder.
Weed breathed in the fresh, green scented air filling the lightly wood fields just outside of Serabourg.
It smelled like freedom.
Five characters. For five characters Weed had toiled, seeking the perfect array of skills. Now his shackles were unleashed. There was nothing left to hold him back. He could take quests. He could slaughter monsters. He could collect piles of Japtem tall enough to form mountains. The thought alone had him trembling with excitement.
“To start, I will kill a fox and get you a proper body,” Weed decided.
Weed had not wasted the final days trapped within the Citadel of Serabourg. Instead, he had thrown himself into training. Strength. Agility. Vitality. Hitpoints. Weed had relentlessly pounded straw dummies until his arms felt like leaden weights. Though many would have questioned the value of the Training Hall for a wizard, Weed was not one to turn down free attributes.
“I'm perfectly happy with the body I have, master. There is no need to get me a new one.”
Weed's darkening gaze shifted to the squirrel on his shoulder.
“Mana thieves have to pay their due.”
“Yeesh. I take a few points and I never hear the end of it,” Bemju grumbled. “Fine, if master wants me to fight, I'll fight.”
A few points? The greedy little squirrel currently latched onto Weed's shoulder was eating nearly twenty-percent of Weed's mana. If it not for the boost offered by Meditation, Weed would have been crippled.
But thoughts upon his stats brought a pleasant smile to Weed's face.
“Show stats.”
[quart=Health,Mana]268,275 (335)[/quart]
[quart=Strength,Agility]18,17[/quart]
[quart=Vitality,Intellect]19,31[/quart]
[quart=Wisdom,Charisma]27,5[/quart]
[quart=Luck,Faith]5,7[/quart]
[quart=Perseverance,Endurance]9,7[/quart]
[quart=Fighting Spirit,Knowledge]8,1[/quart]
[quart=Attack,Defense]9,8[/quart][quart=Fire,Water]0%,0%[/quart]
[quart=Earth,Dark]0%,0%[/quart]
[quart=Name,Alignment]Weed,Neutral[/quart][quart=Level,Profession]4,None[/quart]
Title
None
Fame
20
Resistances
“Compared to normal players, my attributes are a bit low,” Weed murmured.
Since Weed did not have a class, his raw attributes remained below average. If not for the bonuses he picked up from othe Training Hall and the Library Weed would be quite weak. Even then he owed much to the equipment he had purchased with the funds raised by selling the translation of Fort on the Mountain.
Despite that, Weed was satisfied with his strength.
“Where should I start?” Weed murmured while glancing around.
The fields outside of Serabourg teamed with players. Here and there parties of newbies confronted the local wildlife. Many flailed with their weapons, children mobbing at a ball. Their chaotic swings were mostly wasted, having little hope of contact. In the distance, a hulking man shrieked, his giant body plummeting to the ground as a fox tore his feet from underneath him. Nearer Weed spotted a cute girl cooing over a fluffy rabbit. Her charmed eyes dulled with death when the creature ripped out her throat.
This was not Earth. This was Versailles. Every creature born in this land lived for the slaughter of mankind. Animal brains were filled with an unearthly lust. They dreamed of murdering players, tearing them apart, then devouring their remains.
It was enough to make Weed itch for the thrill.
“I will head deeper,” Weed decided.
As Weed walked, the City vanished into the distance. The cacophony of battle gave way to the quiet rustle of leaves. The respawn rate near the Citadel was set high and served as a grounds on which thousands of newbie players cut their teeth. But, as Weed ventured farther and farther, their numbers shrank into rarer parties. At the same time, the woods grew more dangerous.
Players higher level than Weed had died here.
“Seek: fox.”
Blue lines streaked through the woods. Several foxes shimmered in his view. Weed slipped through the low lying underbrush, cautiously approaching a lone beast. The red coated creature stepped daintily upon the forest floor, its paws carefully avoiding the dry twigs and crumbled leaves that covered the ground.
“You know, it might be better to start with something weaker, master. Like a rabbit,” Bemju suggested. “Or you could get a party. Parties are good.”
“Quiet,” Weed hissed. “I will be fine. It is just a fox.”
“Your funeral,” Bemju replied with a shrug.
Weed ignored his servant and positioned himself to attack.
“Chilled dagger, freeze and pierce,” he muttered quietly.
Mana flowed down Weed's arms then pooled in his staff. There the spell remained, tense, like the string of a drawn bow. With the precall complete, Weed could hold the spell until it was ready for release or his concentration slipped.
The fox froze in midstep. The creature's ears shot up, its forepaw held in a crook. Weed's whispered words were too quiet to be heard, but initiating magic was not without consequence. Many were the creatures that could feel the pressure of a spell on the verge of completion.
Weed aimed his staff.
“Icicle!”
A bullet of a frozen water burst from the tip of Weed's weapon. The frigid projectile shot across seven meters of open space, leaving behind a trail of misty white. The fox responded instantly, veering to the side in an orange blur. The spike of ice that had been unerringly aimed at the creature's head instead tagged its rear.
“Yip!”
The fox cried out with a pained bark. The animal stumbled, recovered, then dove forward in a flash.
Weed swung his staff like a bat.
The weapon met the creature in midair. Thunk! Wood crashed into the fox's weight. Weed's muscles strained, impelling greater force and throwing the creature back. The fox twisted in midair and landed lightly on its feet. Without a pause, it attacked anew.
With a grimace, Weed danced back. His foot blurred out in a sweeping kick. The powerful blow glanced along the fox's ribs, causing it to stumble.
“Chilled dagger-”
“Master!”
Weed's jerked at Bemju's call. His gaze shifted just in time to see a another orange blur slam into his shoulder. A second fox buried sharp teeth into Weed's right arm. Weed hissed in pain while the animal's weight threw him forward. Left wide open, there was nothing Weed could do when the first fox ripped his feet from underneath him.
A jarring shock rattled through Weed when he crashed into the ground. The pair of foxes were quick to capitalize on his weakness. The first's teeth tore into the meat of his calf while the second circled around and leapt for Weed's throat.
Weed raised an arm as a shield.
Pointy teeth punched through robes and skin. Weed winced then rolled. His greater strength and weight served to fling the small foxes from his body. The animals tumbled away only to regain their footing in the same instant as Weed.
They surged anew in attack.
Weed fell back. A pair of thrusts smashed into the foxes, knocking them aside. Under his breath, Weed started his incantation.
“Chilled dagger, freeze and-”
An orange light gripped the nearest fox. The creature lunged forward in a streak. Teeth sliced through Weed's ribs causing his health to tumble by 7%.
You have lost 18 life points (-18 Life).
Spell disrupted: 22 mana points lost (-22 Mana).
“Damn it!” Weed growled.
With ferocious blows, Weed drove the beasts back. The foxes scattered before his assault but maintained their flanking position. They struck at every opening, leaching away Weed's life. He found himself glad that he had suffered through a week of beating scarecrows.
“If not for the extra health, I would be dead,” Weed observed as he swayed away from a deadly lunge.
Thunk! Whoom! Weed's staff crashed into a vulpine spine then whipped out in a reverberating slash. A fox slipped under the second blow and leapt into the opening. Weed ducked low then slammed an uppercut into the creatures chin, sending it flipping into the air.
A blurring spiral of orange exploded. Weed hopped back, cutting wind caressing his robes. The tail attack technique came to an end, leaving the fox dazed. Sensing an opening, Weed incanted his spell anew.
“Chilleddaggerfreezeandpierce!”
Weed spat out the words so fast they blurred into a chain of syllables. With an angry growl a fox shot forward. Weed slammed the tip of his staff into its maw.
“Icicle!”
Critical Hit!
Sharp ice exploded from the vulpine skull. The fox's life bar drained from half to zero in an instant. The corpse fell from Weed's weapon to flop onto the ground. Weed paid it no mind, whirling to face the fox attacking from his right.
“Yip!”
With a sharp cry, the fox flew high. Pointy teeth were spread wide, aiming to rip off Weed's face. He flowed under the lunge, twirling to meet the animal head on. His eyes flickered to the red and blue bars that floated at the edge of his vision.
“My life is at fifty percent and my mana forty.”
Tension drained away and a loose grin formed on Weed's lips. Facing two foxes had been frightening, but now that there was only one all sense of danger was erased. Weed danced with the creature, evading its assault with ease. Compared to Chuluun, the creature's charge was like molasses. Weed toyed with his foe, learning its timing and patterns. The longer the fight drew on, the more trivial it became.
“One fox is too easy,” Weed said with a sigh.
Having grown bored, Weed slammed his staff into the fox's ribs. The creature rolled to the side with a pained yip. While the fox fought to recover, Weed pounced. His foot crashed down on the animal's skull in repeated blows.
“Chilled dagger freeze and pierce,” Weed incanted between blows. He aimed his staff with lazy abandon. “Icicle.”
A bullet of magical ice pierced the monster's chest causing its life bar to fall by a full third. Such was the power of magic. With a single strike, Weed's spell punished his foe with a wound half-a-dozen times greater than that rendered by a physical attack.
“Remember not to kill it, master.”
“I know,” Weed retorted.
The fox struggled to its feet, its jaw snapping at Weed's heels. Weed flitted back then smashed the animal upon the nose with the heel of his boot.
After judging the opening, Weed incanted. “By the power of Freya, restore my health. Healing hand.”
Soft light poured from Weed's hand and sank into his chest. Flesh knitted, first sealing the open wound cut by the fox's teeth before spreading out to heal the other injuries Weed had suffered.
New Stat: Wit
Weed blinked then whirled. His staff struck the charging fox, sending it skittering off balance. After a brief thought, he decided to ignore the window for now and instead focused on corralling the weakening creature with well timed thrusts.
With each strike the fox's life tumbled. Thirty percent. Twenty-five. Twenty.
Compared to a warrior, Weed was weak. Weed lacked both the strength and the class features that granted a fighter his power. The potency of his blows was sapped further by the absence of Staff Mastery. Despite that, Weed favored his weapon heavily, as it had the one thing Weed's fists did not.
Reach.
Weed's avatar was petite. He was so short that PCs and NPCs assumed him a child. His head rarely rose higher than the average man's chest. His arms were puny and his legs stubby little things.
If this were the real world, those traits would have been fatal. But, though Royal Road implemented a physics engine, its damage calculations were predominately determined by raw statistics.
The fox escaped his boxing blows. The animal flashed in around Weed's feet. A brief misstep made him stumble. Sensing weakness, the fox struck. Sharp teeth sank into Weed's thigh, tearing from it bloody meat.
Crack! Weed's staff cracked down in response. The fox stumbled. Weed kicked it away.
With a whimper, the fox struggled to its feet.
“That is weak enough, master,” Bemju said.
Weed shot a glance at the spirit. Bemju was resting in a tree, observing the fight with half lidded eyes. Weed ground his teeth at the sight. The lazy spirit was sleeping on the job!
“Get down here and take its body,” Weed snapped.
Bemju gave a heavy sigh. “If master insists...,” Bemju grumbled.
With lethargic motions, the squirrel rose from its perch to drop onto Weed's hat. The creature waved a paw over the brim, gesturing to the limping fox.
“You'll have to snag that creature first.”
Weed nodded. With keen eye's he awaited the fox's assault. The creature was quick to answer. In a blurring streak it shot across the open air. Weed swayed to the side and snagged the beast by the scruff of its neck as it passed. The canine immediately twisted in his grip and plunged its teeth into Weed's wrist.
With his free arm, Weed reached up and seized Bemju as well.
“Unbind: Bemju. Spirit Bind,” Weed incanted.
The squirrel stiffed, its eyes growing dull as life fled its body. At the same time, the fox shuddered, quivering in his hand. After a second, the creature's eyes reopened. The fox loosened is maw, ending the slow drain on Weed's life.
Weed dropped the squirrel's corpse and set Bemju upon the ground. The spirit rolled its jaw then swept its tongue over its lips, licking away the blood that coated its gums.
“Ah. Yes. This body does feel quite a bit more powerful,” Bemju noted. The fox twisted its form, stretching out the kinks. “Not bad, though it will be tricky riding on your shoulder from now on, master.”
“You can walk,” Weed retorted. He glanced at his mana bar. Less than fifty points remained.
“And why ever would I do that, master?”
Then, to make his intent clear, Bemju hopped onto Weed's shoulder. Weed sagged under the sudden weight. Clawed paws scrapped at his robes, struggling to find purchase. Finally, after seconds of effort, Bemju stabilized himself by wrapping his fluffy tail around Weed's neck.
“Tricky, but possible. On second thought, I like this body just fine.”
Weed's glared. “Don't be thinking you'll be staying there, mana thief. You are working as my meat shield from now on.”
“Hell no. I told you already, master, if you want a meat shield summon a lesser spirit,” Bemju retorted. “Besides, I'm squishier than you. If anyone should do the tanking, it is you.”
Weed's eyes narrowed further. “Show.”
Bound Fox [level 5] – Bemju [level 4]
Life: 43/140
Mana: 78/152
Due to the binder's skill, base stats are reduced by 29%
An annoyed expression spread on Weed's face.
Because Weed's skill in Spirit Binding was low, Bemju's stats were less than that of a typical fox. It was irritating to realize that Weed, as a wizard, was tougher than his meat shield.
“Worthless spirit,” Weed grumbled. “I will make you work twice as hard to make up for your uselessness.”
Bemju made a show of yawning. “Yeah. Yeah. Now hurry up and bind a pair of lesser spirits so I can go back to being lazy.”
“Useless mana thief,” Weed complained while giving the spirit the evil eye. His gaze then focused on the window he had ignored.
Wit
Mental agility and the ability to think under duress. Increases mental focus, especially under trying circumstances. Slightly improves casting speed. Stat points distribution is prohibited. Instead wit will rise according to the character’s actions.
“A valuable attribute,” Weed said, sounding pleased.
Wit was a worthy attribute for any wizard. High wit increased a mage's concentration, making it easier to hold a spell in the thick of combat. The boost to accuracy, while small, was an advantage that could not be ignored for those wizard's who refused to invest in agility.
But, because wit grew fastest while in mortal peril, it was rare that players other than spell swords reached the triple digits.
“Close window,” Weed muttered, flicking the image aside. His eyes gleamed as he stared down upon the fox's corpse. “Now for the loot.”
Drawing a knife from his inventory, Weed knelt next to the corpse. His blade plunged into the creature's chest. With sawing motions, Weed hacked it open. With an ugly leer, he plucked out the animal's internal organs.
“It might help, master, if you tried to identify them first,” Bemju suggested, his eyes peering deep into his cousin's cavity.
“I don't have time for that,” Weed dismissed.
Having finished with the fox's internals, Weed skinned the creature for its hide.
Ding!
Anatomical Study: Vulpes [19% complete]
+3.8% organ harvest rate
+1.9% critical damage against all future specimens
The effectiveness of skills dependent upon knowledge of the creature's body plan will be increased.
Weed gave a twisted smile. Increased critical hit damage! Improved drop rate! Biology was a skill Weed had obtained by accident, but he would be remiss to not profit from what he had.
Satisfied with his gains, Weed lifted a hand to his chest. “Healing hand.”
Weed incanted the spell twice and his life bar soared to just short of full. His pleased expression quickly vanished into a grimace when he noted his remaining mana. A puny sliver. Hardly enough to cast a single icicle.
“Come along,” Weed said, while making a motion toward his companion. “We've got foxes to hunt.” Weed paused to glare at his companion. “And you better make yourself useful.”
Bemju, who had long since dropped from Weed's shoulder, uncurled from his resting place on the ground. The fox made a lazy yawn before pattering after his master.
“Sure. Whatever. Go ahead and fight with no mana. It's not like I care,” Bemju muttered from behind.
“Mana regenerates too slow,” Weed grumbled. “Waiting is a waste. I will kill foxes with my fist until it recovers.”
Weed possessed the skill Meditation which hastened the rate his mana recovered, but alone it was not sufficient to drop his recover rate much below fifteen minutes. Rather than laze around, Weed would rather fight. He wanted experience! He wanted japtem! There were hundreds of foxes lurking in these woods and Weed would not stop until he had slaughtered them all.
“Just so you know, if we are facing a party wipe, I'm leaving you to die,” Bemju said.
Weed gave the spirit the evil eye, but Bemju was unmoved by his wrath. After a long moment, Weed turned away. The worthless spirit never listened anyway.
“They are only foxes. If it is just one, I can kill it on my own,” Weed retorted. “Seek: fox.”
A line of blue drew him to his quarry. Weed approached his target with a whoop and a cry. With reckless abandon, he threw himself into the fray. A reluctant Bemju trailed after, circling to take the fox's hind.
With fists and staff he crushed the creature. With needle sharp teeth, Bemju inflicted mortal wounds.
The battle lasted a bare minute.
“Too easy,” Weed grumbled, with a shake of his head.
Even without mana, the challenge was lacking. The fight cost Weed no more than fifteen percent of his health.
“Spirit bind!”
The new fox spasmed to life. The creature looked about in a daze. Then, with glimmering eyes it found Weed.
“Yip! Yip!”
The fox danced around his feet with eager joy.
With two spirits bound, Weed's maximum mana was reduced to a mere hundred-and-thirty. Thankfully, mana regeneration was based upon his true max so the loss did little to slow Weed's hunting. The rhythm of his fights accelerated, speeding until it reached break neck pace. With two minions at his side, Weed plowed through the fox population. If an ally's health fell too far, a Healing Hand restored its life. When Weed's mana pool reached its peak, he shredded his enemies with well timed Icicles.
As darkness settled, Weed received his reward.
Level Up!
“Finally,” Weed breathed.
He titled his head back and sucked in the evening air. The breath of victory tasted pleasant, even when drunk with worn lungs.
“Now, how shall I distribute my points?”
Thus far, Weed had split his attributes evenly between Intelligence and Wisdom. However, seeing how much mana Spirit Binding consumed, it could be better to put it all into Wisdom instead. With more mana, Weed could summon more minions and increase the pace of battle even further.
Weed considered this for a moment then shook his head.
“No. At low levels it is more efficient to rely on Meditation to raise my maximum mana.”
Decision made, Weed split the attribute points evenly then closed the window.
“Ah.” Bemju's eyes rose to the darkening sky. “Night has started, master. Perhaps we would return?”
Weed glared at the heavens.
For players, night was a curse.
At night, monsters received a fifty-percent bonus to all attributes. They were faster, stronger, and tougher. On top of that, many of the weaker foes – such as a fox or rabbit – were replaced by mighty wolves. For newbie players, night was especially dangerous. Weed lacked the raw level needed to battle a wolf.
“If I was a Moonlight Sculptor, fighting at night would be easy,” Weed murmured in a rare lament.
For all its flaws, the class Moonlight Sculptor had a sole redeeming factor. At night the player would receive a massive thirty-percent bonus to all stats. It was a feature that promised great rewards as all manner of creatures granted extra experience when slain under the sway of darkness.
But, why didn't the drop rate increase too!
Ah, the suffering Weed was forced to endure....
Wait.
Weed's eyes suddenly narrowed. His gaze fell upon the minions at his side. One fox looked up with innocent eyes while the other watched with wary boredom.
“Show,” Weed demanded.
Bound Fox [level 5]
Life: 194/194
Mana: 151/151
Due to the binder's skill; base stats are reduced by 28%
A creepy smile spread across Weed's face and a low, malicious laugh gurgled from his throat.
“Uh..., master?” Bemju's asked cautiously.
As he had suspected. A bound monster was still a monster. From a glance at the fox's stats, Weed knew that the creature had received the full bonus for fighting at night.
“Bemju, what is the maximum range of a bound spirit?”
“I don't know. Never reached it. It is probably unlimited,” Bemju answered with a shrug. “Why do you ask?”
“Good. Then you can hunt all night while I return to town,” Weed said bluntly.
“Yae, yae, yae. All night? And why would I want to do something like that, master?”
“Quit your yapping,” Weed snapped back. “If you don't want to fight, then just order the others do it to for you, stinking mana thief.”
“Yeah. Yeah. Make the Bemju stay up all night fighting. He's just a spirit. Why does he need to sleep?” Bemju grumbled. “You're going to need to bind another fox, master. One-on-one, this idiot will just get himself killed.”
Weed gave the spirit a half-lidded glare. How did he end up with such a lazy spirit? If Weed had known Bemju would be this worthless, he would have left the spirit trapped in the body of a squirrel.
“Useless servant.”
Weed grumbled the words under his breath while trudging out into the night in search of another body to bind.
-oOo-
Crunch. Crunch. Frozen grass crumbled underfoot. Weed ghosted through the forests of Serabourg, his whispers of sound made small beside the stirring life.
It was a crisp, cool morn in Rosenheim. With the fleeing darkness, Weed had put a stop to his brutal session in the Training Hall. Two weeks had passed since Weed's first hunt. His strength had been made real through exertion, and his mind keen through the lens of translation. His skills, inside and outside the system, had been sharpened by battle.
Weed of before was made pale by the Weed of today.
“Show stats.”
[quart=Health,Mana]721,518 (918)[/quart]
[quart=Strength,Agility]32,31[/quart]
[quart=Vitality,Intellect]33,71[/quart]
[quart=Wisdom,Charisma]69,13[/quart]
[quart=Luck,Faith]5,9[/quart]
[quart=Perseverance,Endurance]26,23[/quart]
[quart=Fighting Spirit,Knowledge]28,35[/quart]
[quart=Wit,]6,[/quart]
[quart=Attack,Defense]18,13[/quart][quart=Fire,Water]0%,0%[/quart]
[quart=Earth,Dark]0%,0%[/quart]
[quart=Name,Alignment]Weed,Neutral[/quart][quart=Level,Profession]16,None[/quart]
Title
None
Fame
40
Resistances
“Idiot spirit. He got one my wolves killed,” Weed complained.
Though Bemju was distant, Weed did not need to meet his servant to know a bound wolf had died. The change in his maximum mana revealed the truth on its own.
“Seek: wolf.”
Shaking his head, Weed headed deeper into the woods. He made no effort to hunt down Bemju. That lazy spirit would find his master when he was good and ready. Weed's time was much better spent murdering the local wildlife.
The thought alone made Weed shiver in excitement.
Wolves!
A wolf was ferocious predator. It was faster and stronger than a puny fox. It preyed upon its victims with a keen cunning and often they came in packs. Fighting such a powerful foe was enough to get Weed's blood boiling. Though he would never admit it to Bemju, Weed enjoyed his morning battles the most. The rush of facing tooth and nail with nothing but his weapons and wits was an incomparable delight.
“Hey!”
A rough voice echoed in the empty morn. A redheaded warrior stumbled into view, his legs smashing through thick brush. The rattling leaves was enough to rouse a dozen monster, had any been near enough to hear. At the warrior's rear were three silhouettes, their figures darkened by the rising sun.
“Ha-ha-ha,” the redhead laughed. The warrior took a moment to adjust his sword and shield before offering a friendly smile. “Got a bit caught up in there. I should know better than to rush but I was afraid you would run away.”
“...” With narrowed eyes, Weed scrutinized the crowd.
Behind the redhead were three others.
First was a spearman whose blond hair glowed like fire in the rising sun. He held on his face the haughty leer of a man regarded himself too highly. Just behind was a tall wizard. The mage wore a fine cloak and wielded a crooked staff that drew Weed's greedy eyes. Last was a priest in classic white. The cleric glanced about the woods, as though fearing ambush.
Substitute a thief for a fighter, Weed could not help but note, and the team would form a traditional hero unit.
“Want to party up?” the redhead asked. “It can get pretty scary around here when fighting on your own. Run in to a couple of wolves and you are due for a quick end.”
Weed's eyes narrowed. After a moment's evaluation, he let out a snort. A full team that was scared of wolves? Pathetic.
“There are four of you, therefore you should be able to kill four wolves at once, yes? If you can't do that, don't bother me.”
Weed had no intention of providing charity. A weak party would only serve to sop up experience and eat his share of the loot.
That, and he didn't want them seeing Bemju either.
“Burn!” the blond haired warrior said with a laugh. “Face it Jonathan, that chick isn't going to give you the time of day.”
“Chick?” the wizard asked. “Uh... I'm pretty sure that's a boy, Dae-Hyun.”
Weed's brow twitched. He opened his mouth to retort but Dae-Hyun, the blond haired warrior, faced the wizard first.
“Are you telling me that cute little thing is a boy?” Dae-Hyun growled. “Are you blind, Agamemnon? Look at her. There is no way she is anything but a girl.”
The wizard, Agamemnon, gave a great shrug. “I'll admit, the kid is on the trappy side, but he looks like a boy to me. But hey, if you are into that sort of thing, who am I to argue?”
“I'm leaving,” Weed announced. Pointedly, he turned his back on the pair and began to walk away.
“You saying I'm gay?” Dae-Hyun spat from behind. “Is that what you are saying? Fine. I will show you that this chick is a girl.”
Stomping forward, the blond haired warrior seized Weed's retreating shoulder and span him around.
“You, you're a girl, right?” Dae-Hyun demanded, his face growing purple with rage.
Weed's expression turned ugly. “Let go.”
– Harassment logged–
The blond's arm was blown back. The force of the repulsion was such that the warrior stumbled back three steps.
The effect was neither an attack nor a spell, but rather a safety measure installed into the root of the world. In order to discourage harassment, Royal Road employed a number of decency filters including both passive and active measures. Though Weed had no intention of triggering them, the game itself had read the mood and filled in the gaps on its own.
The redhead, Jonathan, let out a sigh. “And there we go. She's a girl. Now, can we drop this argument?”
“Actually, I'm pretty sure it's possible to harass a boy,” Agamemnon noted. “Unicorn is equal opportunity like that.”
Weed's eyes shifted amongst the group. Seeing as no further actions were in play, Weed repeated his intent, “I am leaving”
Whoom! Weed made it no more than two steps before a heavy spear reverberated through the air. The weapon's bladed tip stopped next to his cheek.
“And where do you think you are going, witch?” the blond haired warrior hissed.
Jonathan palmed his face. “Dae-Hyun, we were supposed to empty her–”
“His,” Agamemnon insisted.
“– ...his...,” Jonathan modified, “...mana pool first.”
Ah. Weed understood. This was not a simple party of sleazebags who refused to take no for an answer. These were Player Killers.
Murder existed within Royal Road and numerous players indulged in the passion. PKing, however, was discouraged. Players that killed players were punished through the application of the murderer's mark. The names of such characters were revealed for all to see and they could be killed with impunity. Worse, city guards would slaughter them on sight. If that were not enough, should notoriety build high enough, a sizable bounty would be placed on the criminal's head inciting a manhunt.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
But all of that was not enough to stop the PKs.
The incentives for murder were wide and varied. There were 200th level dickwads that would slaughter newbies for the LOLs. Some PKs fought for the challenge, enjoying the trials that came from facing the fiercest foe. The most common motive, however, was money. Players were wealthier than monsters. When killed they dropped several randomly chosen items from their inventory. If a high level player was murdered, the resulting loot could easily be surpass that yielded when defeating a superboss.
Or, if luck was poor, the PK could get no more than a loaf of rye bread.
And there in lay the problem. Weed was not a high level player. If his best equipment dropped, the value would not surmount a single gold. Rather than killing him, the PKs could earn faster cash by fighting wolves.
In conclusion, they were morons.
But they were not complete fools either. Dae-Hyun's name was not revealed in red. Nor did any member of Jonathan's party bear the murderer's mark.
“You are trying to scare me into dropping my loot,” Weed concluded. His eyes grew intense. “I refuse. I won't give you anything even if you kill me.”
They could take his life, but they would never take his money! If Weed dropped more than a single silver, he swore that he would hunt these bastards down and murder them over and over again until they yielded up ten times what he lost.
“Don't be like that, sugar,” Dae-Hyun said with a false sweetness. “I know, losing a level and 24-hours of playtime doesn't sound like much, but it is worth more than your equipment. Besides, if you keeping pissing me off, I will camp your corpse.”
Weed's expression turned especially nasty, but his words were cut off by Agamemnon.
“Sugar? Really? How many times do I have to tell you that he is a guy,” the wizard said with an exasperated tone.
“And I'm telling you, she is a girl!” Dae-Hyun roared back.
“Would both of you, SHUT UP!” Jonathan screamed. “Just drop the argument, okay? Does it really matter what his... her... whatever that person's sex is?”
“Of course it matters,” Dae-Hyun insisted. “Or are you saying I'm gay. Is that it? Are you saying I'm gay?”
The blond glared at his companions. Jonathan heaved a sigh. With a light hand, he gripped the blond's spear.
“Dae-Hyun, just let... her go,” Jonathan said with exasperation. “We've already blown the plan. The equipment we will get is not worth a murderer's mark.”
“Like hell,” Dae-Hyun spat. The blond jerked his weapon free. With a hateful leer he refocused on Weed. “Girl, give us your shit or I'll kill you where you stand.”
“...”
Weeds lips formed words too silent to be heard. Dae-Hyun's face contorted.
“What did you say!” Dae-Hyun demanded. “What did you say about me!”
Drawing back his weapon, Dae-Hyun thrust his spear into Weed's shoulder. Weed gritted his teeth against the searing pain, his life tumbling by 6%. The party of four was suddenly hued in a vile red.
“That idiot,” Agamemnon groaned, palming his face.
Shing. A sword slid from Jonathan's scabbard. His face suddenly had the expression of a granite statue. Weed, however, wore a cruel smirk. His staff tilted toward the group.
“Poison Mist.”
A sickly green fog exploded out. The mist shrouded all four of the PKs in a roiling cloud of death. Visibility was erased and all who breathed it were instantly inflicted with the status Poisoned.
“What the hell?” Dae-Hyun stumbled, barely visible within the mist. He let loose a wracking series of coughs.
“Poison,” Jonathan noted distantly. The redhead adjusted his stance, his eyes aiming to cut through the fog. “Benedict, take care of it. Dae-Hyun, stop standing around like an idiot and help me kill the girl.”
“Boy,” Agamemnon corrected.
Royal Road had a complicated set of rules that governed player on player combat. But one stood perfectly clear. If a player was the recipient of an unprovoked attack, they were entitled to any act of self defense up to, and including, the flat out murder of the aggressor.
A privilege Weed intended to abuse with abandon.
Dashing to his left, Weed circled the group to gain a better vantage. Jonathan's eyes tracked his figure and flashed forward in response. Weed had a bare second's warning before the redhead burst from the fog, his mana filled blade cutting a blazing arc as it reflected the dawn.
Thunk!
But that blink was enough. The steel blade slammed into Weed's raised staff. The parry dissipated Jonathan's opening strike, transferring the force through Weed's feet and into the earth.
Jonathan's sword withdrew then stabbed forward in a deadly thrust. Weed danced back, stepping a hand span out of range. His counter was aborted a moment later when Dae-Hyun spear lanced in from the side.
Crack! Thunk! Crack! Weed flawlessly deflected a whirlwind of blows.
“Benedict!” Jonathan growled.
“R-right,” Benedict murmured. The priest clapped his hands together and began to pray. “Lady of mercy, purge this-”
In response, Weed intoned his own incantation. “Icy lance of winter, fly forth and pierce my-”
“Careful! That spell is-” Agamemnon started to warn.
Weed's retreat became a rush. In a maddening moment, Weed set himself against the swings of his enemies. Jonathan's sword sliced through his gut. Dae-Hyun's spear pierced an arm. Weed's life plunged to a little less than three quarters.
But both attacks were an instant too slow.
“- foe. Frost Spear!”
“Antidote!”
Fatal Blow!
A rod of ice as long as Weed's arm slammed into Benedict's eye socket. The priest's head rocked back in a staggering lurch. With its target dead, the shroud of purifying light surrounded him shattered into embers. Benedict's corpse tumbled to the ground, a puppet cut from its strings.
Weed grinned in satisfaction. The cleric only had time to cure himself.
Shock reverberated through the PK group. Weed used the distraction to step away.
“Seriously, in one shot?” The wizard shouted. “What the hell!”
“Shit, what level is this witch?” Dae-Hyun spat.
Only the redhead remained unshaken. His sword hunted Weed mercilessly, the steel blade flickering fire. Thunk! Swish. Thunk! Again and again the edge lashed out only to meet air or the hard wood of Weed's staff.
“If you have time to talk, fight,” Jonathan growled.
While Weed fought, he feasted on their panic.
Poison fell under the precepts of earth magic and packed a punch far greater than its level. Between Weed's skill, Intellect, and weapon the magic would drain more than four-hundred-points of life from its victims.
In exchange for that power, poison was afflicted with numerous weaknesses. Poison damage was delivered, slowly, over a period lasting five minutes. Worse, the status ailment was easily negated. Had Benedict lived he would have spammed the spell Antidote until the entire group was restored.
But, with their priest dead, the PKs suddenly found themselves neck deep in trouble. There were no poisonous enemies near the Citadel of Serabourg. So it was without question that a party of low level players would have not a single antidote potion amongst them.
“Dudes, I'm dead,” Agamemnon grumbled. The wizard circled to the right, seeking a clear line of fire. “You guys better bring me my stuff when I log back in. Firebolt!”
A blazing streak leapt from the crook of Agamemnon's staff. Weed swayed out of the way, preferring Jonathan's steel to the mage's fire.
“Tricky,” Weed murmured as he rolled under a series of slashes. Crack! Staff met spear and knocked it aside.
The battle had only begun. Poison alone would not slay Weed's foes, and with a only 17% of his mana left free Weed could summon up no more than a trio of Icicles or Healing Hands. Worse, though Agamemnon was a walking corpse, for the next five minutes the wizard presented a serious threat.
“I cannot win by running,” Weed observed. Retreating five steps, he wove between a trio of thrusts. “Worthless Bemju, if you hadn't run off with half my mana....”
While Weed grumbled, he slapped Dae-Hyun's spear aside. A quick step put him within Jonathan's sphere of influence. His steel blade flashed, kissing the hem of Weed's robes. Weed's staff snaked out in reply, slipping through the redhead's guard and smashing him upside the skull.
Jonathan endured the attack without a flinch and countered with a flurry of blows.
“Tch! Staff strikes do no damage.”
Weed parried a whirlwind of strikes while retreating, an incantation forming on his lips. Ducking low, he passed under the blond's spear. His staff slashed out, aimed unerringly for Dae-Hyun's temple.
“Icicle!”
Critical Hit!
Ice exploded at the instant of impact. The force of the strike was enough to send the fighter careening back.
“You bitch!” Dae-Hyun howled.
Enraged, Dae-Hyun lunged forward. Crack! Weed beat the weapon aside, snagged the haft, then jerked the blond forward. Dae-Hyun stumbled. A low kick smashed into the warrior's unbalanced legs, sweeping his feet from underneath him. Sensing blood, Weed moved in for the kill.
Shink!
A flash of steel cut across Weed's back. Wincing at the cool kiss, Weed retreated.
“Stay calm,” Jonathan warned. With a solid stance the redhead guarded his fallen partner.
“How am I supposed to stay calm?” Dae-Hyun growled back as he levered himself back to his feet. “We're dying here!”
Dae-Hyun punctuated his return with a quartet of thrusts. Weed fell back at a measured pace while knocking the strikes aside. Jonathan circled to Weed's left, trying to flank the diminutive wizard. In response, Weed added a touch more distance to force both fighters into clear view.
“I will run out of mana before I can kill them with magic and ordinary hits deal no damage,” Weed mumbled. With keen eyes he observed his opponents, his defense never faltering. “No choice. I will have to aim for fatal blows.”
A spear though the heart. A knife to the throat. An arrow in the eye. A fatal blow was any attack that should unquestionably slay a foe instantly. This was not a mere critical hit but rather a perfect critical. In addition to the normal bonus, a fatal blow drained ten percent of the target's maximum life.
Thunk!
Jonathan's sword crashed into Weed's staff with enough force to make Weed stumble. Dae-Hyun's spear flashed, flickering through the air Weed had occupied an instant earlier. The redhead's steel blade cut a broad circle to crack against Weed's weapon. Weed rolled with the blow then impelled the weapon on its path creating an opening.
Weed's right leg lashed out, blasting into Jonathan's shin. The redhead winced, fumbling his recovery. Weed leapt, rising in a reverse back-kick aimed at Jonathan's throat.
A wooden pole smashed into his nose.
The sudden pain and imbued momentum broke Weed's assault. He wobbled in midair but somehow managed to land in an awkward half-stumble. Dae-Hyun's spear lanced in, carving through the morning light. Weed leaned back, evading the attack. The motion destroyed his balance, causing him to fall.
Jonathan's sword cut down in a broad arc.
Weed rolled out of the way just as the steel slashed into the earth. With a sharp push, he rose to his feet just in time to parry Dae-Hyun's thrust.
Crack! Thunk!
“Whirling embers, form a bullet and incinerate my enemy,” Agamemnon chanted. “Firebolt!”
While Weed struggled to recover, a blazing arrow of red slashed through the sky. He jerked to the side, but the heavy weight of Dae-Hyun's spear crashed into his staff at the perfect moment. Dodge aborted, Weed caught the spell straight on his shoulder. Fire splashed over his robes, searing through cloth, boiling fat, and blackening skin.
Weed ground his teeth against the blinding pain. Thunk! By some impossible instinct, his staff intercepted Jonathan's sword before it could separate head from neck.
Weed leapt back with three giant steps, leaving behind the warriors who had to readjust their stance.
“About time, Agamemnon,” Dae-Hyun complained. The blond whirled his spear to shift its position. “I was beginning to think you couldn't hit shit.”
“Ha ha ha. This is harder than it looks, you bastard,” Agamemnon retorted.
Hungry for blood, Dae-Hyun dashed forward in a brutal charge. Weed floated around the attack and rammed a heavy uppercut into the blond's chin. Dae-Hyun staggered. Weed thrust his staff between the rushing warrior's legs. Shins crashed into wood. Dae-Hyun spilled onto the ground. With Jonathan two paces away, there was nothing to stop Weed from stomping hard on the warrior's neck.
Fatal Blow!
The snicker-snack of Jonathan's sword ended all plans for repeat punishment.
“I told you to stay calm, Dae-Hyun,” Jonathan reminded.
Jonathan's sword shimmered in the sunlight, a mirrored length of golden steel. Thunk. Th-thunk. His blows rained in quick succession against Weed's guard, seeking to keep the wizard off balance. Weed held the redhead at bay, his eyes conveying grim intensity.
“Damn it!” Dae-Hyun cursed. The blond shook his head to clear the dizziness. “After this poison is done with me, I'll be on the last third of my health.”
“Which is why we need to take this slow,” Jonathan reminded. “She is almost out of mana and her life is on the last third. There are three of us. As long as we fight smart, we can win.”
“Yeah Dae-Hyun,” Agamemnon added from behind. “Stop rushing in. Remember, you guys need to stay alive and pick up my stuff. So focus on holding the kid still. Two more fire bolts and he's dead.”
Jonathan was not wrong. In terms of damage output, Weed exceeded all three PKs. However, in the terms of percents, Weed was dying faster than his adversaries. Luck also favored the PKs. If fortune were to smile on Weed, the most he could do is deliver one or two fatal blows. If chance were instead to side with the PKs, Weed's life would end in an instant.
But...
A twisted smirk spread on Weed's lips. “Any time, Bemju.”
“I suppose I can't let you do all the fighting,” the distant spirit commented with a sigh. “Sick him, Spot.”
A gray streak burst from the brush. A ravenous beast of fur and talon struck Agamemnon dead on. The wolf's maw grasping the meat of the wizard's shoulder, biting, tearing, dragging him to the earth. Agamemnon cried out in pain and hit the ground so hard his staff went skittering across the forest floor. Desperately, he flailed, striving to free himself from the beast.
The wolf proved impervious. With repeated strikes, it tore the wizard apart.
“Dae-Hyun, stop that thing!” Jonathan shouted. “Agamemnon, get the hell away and focus on the girl!”
A frenzied fear crossed Jonathan's face. In the blink of an eye, the calculus of the battlefield had been turned upside down. It was a testament to Jonathan's tactical acumen that he instantly deduced the best solution. Agamemnon had the highest attack power of the three, bar none. If the wizard lived, he could at least kill the wolf before the poison finished him.
Yet for all of Jonathan's insight, he had overlooked one small matter.
“The hell,” Dae-Hyun retorted. “If you want to die fighting a wolf, go ahead.”
Dae-Hyun had already lost more than half his health. Sending him against the wolf was the same as telling him to die. As Dae-Hyun saw it, it was better to fight a wizard with weak physical attacks rather than a wolf that was sure to rip him apart.
Jonathan growled in frustration. “Damn it, Dae-Hyun!”
The redhead did not argue further. Instead, he rushed to Agamemnon's aid. It was already too late. A few seconds of delay proved fatal. Ravaged by beast and poison, the wizard met an ignoble end, his throat torn out by a ravenous animal.
Jonathan met the bound creature in hopeless battle.
Dae-Hyun ignored it all. His hate filled eyes focused on Weed, glimmering with a disgusting leer.
“Trying to humiliate me?” Dae-Hyun spat. “I'm going to murder you, witch.”
The spearman stepped forward. Weed met him disdain. Rrrssh. A piercing thrust hit the side of Weed's staff, the spear's haft rubbing against the weapon's wood as it was brushed aside. Weed whirled around his opponent without counter attack, his mouth murmuring an incantation.
“By the power of Freya, restore my health. Healing hand.”
Healing light surged through Weed's free hand. The mystic energy poured into his charred shoulder, replacing flaky skin with healthy pink. Weed's health shot high, spiraling up until it breeched half. The sight of his climbing bar was enough to make Dae-Hyun halt in horror.
“Th-that's cheating!” Dae-Hyun cried.
“Cheating?” Weed noised with a sneer. “You fight a lower level player four on one and accuse me of cheating? If you want a fair fight, throw down your weapon and face me with your fists. If it is not at least that, you won't have handicapped yourself enough.”
With a broad motion, Weed swept his weapon in a circle then attached it to the harness at his back. He fell into a fighting stance, right side forward, and motioned for Dae-Hyun to approach.
“Fight me then,” Weed demanded. “You are a warrior right? So if you can't kill a wizard on your own, you should just take that spear and stab it in your gut. An honorable samurai would have killed himself for less.”
Dae-Hyun's shoulders trembled. The blond's teeth ground with such force that it was actually visible through the shape of his jaw.
“Just die!”
Dae-Hyun tilted. Searing sparks of light gathered around his spear in a swirl. In a single leap, Dae-Hyun flashed across a five meter gap, executing the spear technique Lunge. Weed swayed at the last moment. The spear's steel tip cut across Weed's check. His left hand brushed against the weapon's shaft, brushing it aside. At the same time, Weed stepped forward, slamming his weight and elbow into Dae-Hyun's chest.
The blond's sternum compressed. Air burst from his lungs. While Dae-Hyun struggled for breath, Weed left hand twisted up in a brutal hook.
Critical Hit!
Dae-Hyun swayed. Weed pressed forward. His fists lashed out, hammering the fighter's head as though it were a drum.
Critical Hit!
Critical Hit!
Critical Hit!
His face a bloody messy, Dae-Hyun swung his spear wildly. The weapon crashed into Weed's ribs, drawing a grunt and shattering the rhythm. With a shout, the blond seized his spear with both hands and shoved. The fighter's greater mass and strength sent Weed stumbling back.
“Triple Thrust!” Dae-Hyun cried.
Dae-Hyun's spear fragmented into triplet of glowing streaks. Two beams pierced Weed's chest and gut, sending his life plummeting back down below 30%. The third fell short as Weed retreated to safety.
“One hit is worth two criticals,” Weed grumbled. “Playing a wizard is hard.”
A wide swing swept over Weed's head, tugging at his pointed hat. Weed flew into the gap, his leg shooting out to crash into Dae-Hyun's chest. The blond endured the blow and brought his weapon crashing down. Weed evaded to the left and pummeled the blond's kidney with powerful blows.
Dae-Hyun struggled to turn, fighting to catch his evanescent foe. His spear cut a wide arc, but Weed's small stature turned in his favor. He slipped under the broad strike and whirled toward the blond's now fully exposed back.
With a low kick, Weed blasted Dae-Hyun in the knee cap.
“Gah!” Dae-Hyun gasped, his body slumping beneath him.
“Just die,” Weed pronounced in a bored tone.
His right hand lanced out, crashing into the back of the blond's skull.
Fatal Blow!
Dae-Hyun's kneeling figured flopped forward. Thud. A dull sound was all that welcomed him to death. Weed stared down at the corpse with dissatisfaction.
“Sloppy,” Weed murmured with a grimace. “I will have to fight more humanoid creatures and get used to the weapon patterns.”
Despite the fact that Weed had triumphed over a pure fighter, Weed felt a sense of frustration. The fight had been full of mistakes. Dae-Hyun's triple strike should never have touched him and Weed's efforts to land fatal blows had produced poor results. Weed could not help but compare his haphazard methods to the eerie grace of Chuluun. If that monster had fought in Weed stead, the PKs would not have caught so much as his shadow.
“I am still unskilled,” Weed lamented. “To be truly strong, I will have to train my mind as well as my body or I will never reach the pinnacle.”
For Weed who had been like a god in Continent of Magic, nothing short of the summit was acceptable.
Light flickered at the edge of Weed's vision. His gaze was drawn just in time to see Jonathan's sword decapitate a spirit bound wolf.
“Tch!” Weed clucked, realizing that his fight had not yet ended.
The redhead stood over his foe, his chest heaving in ragged breaths. His eyes rose to meet Weed's. For a long moment, the two of them stared, judging the other's intent. Then, with unbreakable calm, Jonathan pulled a small vial from his belt. Tilting the potion back, the redhead swallowed it in one gulp, causing his life to shoot up from a fifth to half.
Jonathan gave a wane smile.
“Normally, I would call it quits at this point. But, if I'm the only one walking out of here alive, it'll do terrible things for the party morale,” Jonathan said apologetically.
“Party morale? How can you say that while holding a potion in reserve?” Weed unhooked his staff. The wooden weapon was covered in scars and splinters. If its durability fell much further, it would break entirely.
“What they don't know won't hurt them,” Jonathan said with a shrug. The redhead took a moment to readjust his shield and return the empty vial to his belt. He gave a friendly nod. “A word of advice. If you are going to fight hand-to-hand, you should pick up a pair of bracers. That way you will be able to parry without your staff getting in the way.”
“And now you are giving your opponents advice,” Weed said in a huff. “Dying for the party? If those idiots are making you do something like that, you should just play solo.”
“Ha,” Jonathan laughed. “Don't I know it. But not all of us are strong enough to fight without a team. One last question before we begin. Boy or girl?”
“Boy,” Weed answered, positioning his staff in front of him.
“What a shame,” Jonathan lamented with a shake of his head. “It should be a crime for a boy to be so cute.”
Ding!
New Stat: Charm
Weed's eye twitched. “Shut and fight.”
Stillness hung between them. With a whispered breath, Weed chanted the opening of Icicle. The half formed magic clung to his staff, shedding faint particles of frigid frost. Three meters away, Jonathan stood with readiness. His steel blade had the unearthly gleam of a yet to be released technique.
Muscles contracted, storing energy. A breeze brushed by, whipping decaying leaves from the overhead branches. The forest floor crackled as the two adjusted their boots.
Then-
A battle axe split Jonathan's head in twain.
“Wha-!” Weed mouthed in shock.
The redhead's corpse fell, revealing his killer. Standing behind was a goddess. Hers was a face born from terrible perfection, a frigid angel of the frozen north. A heavenly being so beautiful that a single glimpse was enough to stop Weed's heart.
His mind went blank when her eyes fell upon him.
-oOo-
Why am I here?
Seoyoon did not know what had drawn her. Was it the silken hair, which caught fire in the golden sun? Was it the child's cherubic cheeks, cute enough to draw envy from an angel? Or was it the youth's shining eyes that showed untarnished purity?
Beautiful.
That had been Seoyoon's first thought. The child's beauty was not like hers, divinity torn from an epic painting. Rather it was inhuman cuteness given living form. The youth was the picture of lovely innocence, an undefilable blossom on a springtime morn.
Tiny. Fragile. A faerie too bright for a world so dark.
A single glimpse had stolen Seoyoon's heart. No matter how hard she had tried, she had been unable to look away.
So she had followed.
Still, she did not know why. Why did she shadow this child? What were these emotions that stirred in her frozen heart? Bitterness. Nostalgia. Regret. A terrible ache rose from her wounded heart.
Then they had come. Then they had fought. Seoyoon had gripped her axe, ready to kill, but what she had seen amazed her.
Strong. Impossibly strong.
The child was fearless in adversity and ferocious beyond all kin. One, who had appeared so weak, was instead forged from steel and fire. Invincible. Unbreakable.
Everything Seoyoon was not.
The sight had left her dizzy and confused. Unable to turn away Seoyoon had watched. Unable to move, she had done nothing. Nothing until her arm had moved on its own to bury an axe in the skull of an assailant.
But still she did not understand why?
“Wha-what?”
The paralysis that gripped the youth broke. With giant, quivering eyes, the child stepped back. Seoyoon's soul lurched. Then the youth's brown eyes sharpened. Innocence fled. Suddenly, Seoyoon found herself facing an adorable imp.
“I could have killed him on my own,” the child declared, in a matter of fact tone. “So I won't share the drops with you.”
“?” Seoyoon's frozen visage did not flicker. But in her heart, she felt confusion.
The child, however, misread her silence. Brown eyes narrowed further, growing more intense.
“Fine. He was your kill, so you can have his drops,” the youth relented. “But not a copper more.”
“...” Deathly silent, Seoyoon moved forward.
With a gulp, the child stepped back. For an instant, brown eyes quivered anew. Then steel resumed. “No. I refuse. You can't have what they dropped. I killed them. I'm not splitting it with you.”
“...”
“Fine! Fine! You greedy woman. I'll let you have half. Okay?” the child cried desperately.
“...”
Without a word, Seoyoon stretched out a hand. Pat. Pat. Pat. With firm motions, she patted the youth on the head. The child shrank under her touch and cherubic cheeks became tinged with red.
“She's says: 'You are a good girl', master.”
A fox came pattering into view. The amused canine flicked her a glance then stopped at the child's feet.
“!”
Good girl? Seoyoon swayed. Her mind was a muddle. She had heard what the child declared to the other. This was a boy.
So, why did the fox declare her thoughts otherwise?
– Because this is a girl –
Yes. That was right. Something inside Seoyoon had rejected the child's words. No. From the very start she had been unable to think of this child as a boy. The notion had been entertained, but her heart had rejected it firmly.
“Annoying,” the child grumbled.
The girl ducked out from underneath Seoyoon's hand. Adjusting her pointed hat, the child shot an annoyed glare. After a moment, the child turned away and approached the wizard's corpse.
Thoughtlessly, Seoyoon trailed a step behind.
Big, brown eyes glared up at her once more.
“The wizard and priest are mine,” she insisted. “You can loot the others.”
“...”
Seoyoon remained unmoved and silent. The girl's cheeks puffed in cute irritation.
“I told you, these are mine. I'm not sharing another drop. Understood?”
“I don't think she cares about the loot, master,” the fox commented. The small creature scratched at a triangular ear with a rear paw.
“?”
Seoyoon's head tilted, her eyes straying from the too cute child to rest upon the fluffy fox. The creature returned a lazy look then flicked its tail in dismissal.
The child gave an undignified huff. “If she's not going to loot the dead, I am keeping everything.” The girl paused and looked at Seoyoon meaningfully. “Hear that? I'm taking everything.”
Seoyoon met the child's gaze. You can have it all. I don't want any of it. She tried to communicate her thoughts with her eyes, but Seoyoon's granite face failed to convey anything.
The child looked away, showing no sign that she understood. The girl hefted a crooked staff she had lifted from the wizard's corpse. “+20 Intelligence, +10 Wisdom, 7% spell power, a good staff,” she said with a nod of approval.
The fox yawned and curled up on the dirt. “Wake me up when you're done, master.”
“???”
Curious, Seoyoon reached down. With one hand she plucked the fox from the ground. The fox froze in her grip then, a few seconds later, began to struggle.
“Put me down woman! Only master is-”
Ignoring the creature's complaints, Seoyoon cuddled the fox. Soft. Warm. Her fingers ran through the animal's fluffy fur in long, gentle strokes. A contented noise escaped its vulpine throat.
“- On second thought, keeping doing that. Ah. Ah! Yeah, that's the spot,” the fox muttered with decadent contentment.
“Shut up, Bemju,” the child muttered. Shoving the last of the loot into her inventory, the youth pulled out a small dagger.
“!”
With a sharp swing, the child plunged the blade in the wizard's corpse. With sawing motions, she sliced her way along the chest, parting tissue and muscle to reveal the inner cavity.
“!!!”
Alarm ran through Seoyoon. The slightly manic expression on the child's cherubic face made her heart clench.
– No –
It was not so much a thought as a feeling. Before she was aware of what she was doing, Seoyoon was moving. Her arms reached out and suddenly swept the girl into a tight embrace.
“Ghak!”
The youth unleashed a strangled cry. The child struggle against Seoyoon's grip. It was useless. Seoyoon was a level 168 Berserker. Her strength was incredible and Royal Road translated that statistic into superhuman force.
“Let me go!”
“...”
Seoyoon's hug did not relent. She cuddled the youth against the warmth of her body. This child mustn't. She mustn't bloody her hands. She mustn't look upon death. It was too cruel, far too cruel for a child to experience such a thing.
The youth's wiggling ceased. A petulant expression formed. Her cheeks were rose red, puffed in cute embarrassment. “Let me go or I'll log harassment.”
“...” Seoyoon tightened her grip.
“Log harassment,” the child growled.
Nothing happened.
“Log harassment.” Again, nothing. “Log harassment! I said, log harassment!” the child yelled louder.
The fox let out a low laugh. “It won't work if you don't mean it, master.”
The child shot a hate filled glare at the fox. Twisting, she strained against iron arms, but no matter how much she squirmed they did not move in the slightest.
“Let me go, woman.”
Seoyoon shook her head.
– You mustn't –
“I said, let me go! Its just an anatomical study,” the child argued, swinging her legs uselessly.
“...” Seoyoon lacked words, but she was able to convey her feelings with the shake of her head.
“Well, since this looks like it will be a while, I will be enjoying a nice nap, master,” the fox announced.
With a lazy strut, the animal hopped up onto Seoyoon's shoulder then plopped itself heavy onto the rim of the child's hat. Curling around the spire, the fox closed its eyes.
With an annoyed sigh, the child relaxed into Seoyoon's arms.
“Shut up, Bemju,” she muttered weakly.
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