Chapter 20

Chapter 20

If what Greg said was true, then . . . there really wasn’t anything we could have done about Loc and Liam. But we could have at least talked to them first. Jesus Christ, Clara. What the actual hell was that? Then I remembered . . . I could talk to them . . . if they hadn’t been squished. I pulled up my contact list, found Loc and Liam, and started a group chat with them.

Sam: God, guys. I’m so sorry. I had no idea my teammate would do that.

Loc: Yeah . . . it was a bit surprising, but hey. 2v4 anyways, you had us beat . . . and like you said. It’s every party for themselves . . .

Liam: Fuck off, man.

Sam: You guys good on credits still?

They didn’t respond . . .

I sighed. I couldn’t blame Liam for his response.

As I stared glumly around the wrecked cavern, I noticed green, blue, and purple glows from the dead players all around me.

Sam: We won’t loot your corpses, and we will leave a couple of the better items on them.

I thought about that for a second. The other parties had died first. They would probably get through their time penalty and come back to check their corpses before Loc and Liam were able to.

Sam: Scratch that. I’m taking it all so it doesn’t get looted. I’ll message you the location of your loot once I find a good place to hide it.

A long, long moment passed. Then—

Loc: Thanks.

Well that’s something.

Clara started moving toward Loc and Liam’s corpses.

I placed a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. “If you loot them, you are out.” My face must have been a sight, because she hesitated, nodded, then slunk away. Jesus. What is going on with her? Where did that come from?

We walked back to the center of the hall, looting as we went, but I didn’t feel like checking what we’d got for the moment. When we got there, we found a half pillar on its end in the very center of the room. The Black Queen was underneath it, squished . . . like a bug. Her legs curled against the thick cylinder exterior and were glowing . . . orange. That was a new loot color.

Somehow, Fred’s spell had decided to orchestrate a combination maneuver—I assumed, based on the scene before me—where a pillar would be tossed into the air with no rotation in effect, and balanced just so, so that when it slammed onto the queen, it wouldn’t fall over. Or maybe it didn’t fall over due to luck. It was all luck, I reminded myself.

I shook my head. That spell was ridiculous . . . and it gave me a thought, which I pushed to the back of my head. My logs were still spilling out information, and I had to know what our rewards were.

You killed players x15!

You gained 7500 XP!

You killed The Black Queen!

You gained 6000 XP!

You completed the boss raid ‘Slay The Black Queen’!

You gained 30,000 XP!

You gained multiple levels!

You reached level 28!

You received {Gold Coin} x105

Roll for {Ring of Fate}

Roll for {Potion of Inheritance}

Roll for {Axe of the Storm}

Roll for {Scythe of The Black Queen}

The experience gain was incredible, but it fell flat next to the loot. We rolled for a lot of items, but four stood out to me more than the others. Clara won the Ring of Fate, which she passed to Fred. Mie won the Axe of the Storm and the Scythe of The Black Queen, and I won the Potion of Inheritance.

But we all remained silent and solemn as we looked the items over. Loc and Liam . . . we hadn’t known them well, but the fact that we had had to kill them was just . . . It felt awful. Mie was looking at Clara, a look of mistrust on her face. I could feel her uncertainty. It felt similar to my own.

Mie passed the axe over to me begrudgingly, and after that we all linked the items in chat. I took them in one at a time. Fred slipped on the gold-stoned Ring of Fate.

{Ring of Fate}

Rank: Legendary

Grade: Masterwork

Slot: Finger

Description: Any rolling abilities now roll four times, taking the best result.

+5 Constitution

+20 Intelligence

I was very curious if I was even reading the ring’s description right. With that item equipped . . . anytime Fred used his Arbitrary Blast ability—which was roll-based—he would take the best result out of four d10 dice. He had already been rolling north of five on almost every roll, and I wasn’t really sure if that was just luck or what. But with that ring . . . the odds of rolling high numbers would go up even further. I let out a slow breath. Wow. Fred had turned into our MVP just like that. But, after that fight, and saving us from Mike . . . and helping with the guards way back at The Notch . . . he might already have been. I looked at him twiddling with his new ring and humming as he did a little jig and shook my head. Wouldn’t have been my first pick as MVP.

I looked the Axe of the Storm next. I popped it into my hand. The hilt was nicely leathered, and the head of the axe has a half-moon blade that seemed to carry with it an electrical current. It arched over the blade back and forth. On the other side, there was a nice small but flat warhammer.

{Axe of the Storm}

Rank: Epic

Grade: Stellar

Slot: One Handed

+5 Agility

+10 Endurance

+5 Constitution

Passive ability: {Arc Lighting}

{Arc Lighting}, Passive

Description: Your attacks have a 90% chance to arc to a nearby target dealing 75% of the original damage. Stuns for 0.2 seconds.

Despite the short duration, I really liked that stun effect, since it could interrupt casts or even attacks, and I assumed that it had a ninety percent chance to keep arcing, after the initial arc. I’d have to test that. I took a look at the scythe next, but didn’t look too closely since none of us could wield it. Then I popped the Potion of Inheritance into my hand. It looked like a bottle of Perdon, and the liquid sloshing around inside was orange.

{Potion of Inheritance}

Rank: Celestial

Description: If taken while in a Battle Hall, you may select a second class.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

My breath caught.

If I was reading that correctly, I’d be able to pick up a second class while in a Battle Hall. The wording there had me a touch confused. Second class? Everything I had read both in the Hearth Manual and in game had only mentioned Battle Arts and Battle Halls. But this clearly said . . . class. With Fred’s Arbitrary Blast, his Ring of Fate, and now this Potion of Inheritance . . . I returned to my earlier thought process . . .

It was starting to make a lot of sense in my mind to head to Charlie’s Crypt, the dungeon we first saw on the map at The Notch Inn. I pulled open my map and looked back at the recommended level for the dungeon. It recommended level forty. That was . . . pretty out of reach, even with our recent level-ups. But still . . .

More lines in my logs caught my attention.

You returned The Black Domain to its former state. The Black Domain is now The Hallowed Kingdom.

Your reputation with The Hallowed Kingdom has increased astronomically!

You received the title, ‘King of The Hallowed Kingdom’!

Requirements met! You gained Commander Matt’s allegiance!

I stared blankly at that last line. Matt . . . I had assumed . . . died. I looked up sharply, my eyes flicking from pillar to pillar. One in particular caught my eye. It was hung up on the base of another, allowing me a glimpse of black armor legs underneath. They twitched. Noooo way.

I ran over, and the others, curious at my sudden expression and movement, followed. I grabbed the legs and pulled Commander Matt out from under the column. His upper body . . . was half squashed, but somehow, he had crawled under this column and survived. Incredible. Mie quickly healed him up, and in no time he was on his feet. But then . . . he stumbled to a knee in front of me. Or at least I thought it was a stumble . . . until he pulled out his sword and held it across his palms, and began to speak.

I watched Mie’s reaction go from curious to utter disbelief the longer Matt spoke. “I, Matthew, born of The Hallowed Kingdom, commander of the armies of the West . . .” ‘Father to a murdered son. Husband to a murdered wife’ . . . I couldn’t help but fill in with some of my favorite lines from Gladiator. I stopped and paid attention. “. . . swear fealty to you, AnythingButSquished, the new King of The Hallowed Kingdom.”

You gained 20,819 followers!

Fred gasped, his hand going to his chest.

“Oh come on. THE KING?!” Mie said.

Huh. That’s new.

I looked at all the blood, gore, and death all around us. I looked back to the corner where Loc and Liam’s corpses lay. Ugh. “Let’s get out of here.”

After the battle with the Black Queen, we spent three days at the local Hallowed City Inn debating with each other and trying to come up with a solid end game plan. We held our discussions during the evenings and grinded in the surrounding areas during the days. Leveling this way was torture, and I only leveled up once to level twenty-nine. The region of The Black Domain—now The Hallowed Kingdom—had completely transformed back to normal. The eclipsed effect was gone, the black streams of ink had hardened and were starting to disintegrate, and the NPCs started bustling about and returning to some semblance of normal. In a lot of ways . . . it reminded me a lot of the aftermath of the nukes back on Earth. After a day or two, I couldn’t stay upset at Clara and forgave her. But every time I caught Mie looking at her, I felt an inkling of distrust come from our bond. They usually got along, and now something was clearly off.

The four of us were all in the common room sitting around a round table, and the conversation was starting to get a little heated between Mie, and well, me.

“What do you mean going north is a dumbass plan?” Mie said. “We already have the level advantage. We don’t need to go and risk our life credits for more levels! You dumb bitch.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I’m not saying we should risk our life credits—and we wouldn’t be. I’m saying, we should go grab our third Battle Art. Plus, we have no idea what level everyone else is. For all we know, we could be under leveled!”

“Mkay, THE KING,” she said with dripping sarcasm. “Tell me how we are taking on a dungeon that is rated for level forty players.”

I hesitated but was prepared for this question. “Fred,” I said. I looked over at him. Clara and Fred were both at the small circular table in the common room with us. There were a few other players around giving us side-long looks . . . Mie was yelling a lot.

“Fred?!” Mie sputtered. “No offense, Fred. But FRED IS A DUMB—sorry—ASS—I don’t mean it, man—LUCK-BASED CHARACTER. You want to put everything—our life credits, our gear, not to mention our remaining time—on the line because you think we will get LUCKY? I don’t get it.” Fred was stuffing his face with a slice of buttered bread and just shrugged.

“It’s just math,” I said for the hundredth time.

“OH MY GOD. IT'S A SINGLE-TARGET SPELL. IF THERE ARE ANY FIGHTS WITH LEVEL FORTY MOBS IN NUMBERS WE ARE ROYALLY FUCKED,” Mie . . . screamed.

“Mie,” Clara said, glancing around. “Can it. Everyone is looking at us.”

I looked at Clara . . . still unsure of how I felt about her. But she was right. All the other players were now blatantly staring at us. One goblin had a drink halfway up to his mouth, beer sloshing onto his wirelike beard. We had drawn way too much attention.

Mie gave Clara a dirty look that she didn’t notice, then continued more quietly, “We need to go north. We need to get more centralized before phase two.”

“Let’s just vote and get this over with,” I said, tired. We had gone over this multiple times. “Party chat. Roll on a tie. Go.”

Sam: My Plan.

Mie: Oh thanks, Sam. I also vote for My’s(ha) Plan. The Best Plan.

Sam: Really . . . ? Just to be clear. Sam’s Plan.

Clara: Mie’s Plan.

Fred: Sam’s Plan.

Sam: Great. It’s a tie. Kill me.

Mie: Happy to.

Greg: Mie’s Plan.

Sam: Wait. No. What the hell!? Greg doesn’t get a vote.

Mie: Hahahaha YES! WE WIN!

Sam: Greg voting for your plan should really tell you something.

Theodor: Sam’s Plan.

Mie: Wait. Who the hell is Theodor?!

Sam: TIE. Suck it, Mie.

Fred: Uh, hey everyone, meet my guide Theodor. We decided based on your treatment of Greg . . . that Theodor shouldn’t get too involved in party chat. But this seems important.

Theodor: Hi everyone!

Mie: This guy has just been creeping on all of us for like A WEEK?

Fred: Yeah after we saw how you guys treat Greg . . .

Greg: Fred gets it.

Myself, Clara, Mie, Fred . . . and even Theodor all messaged ‘Shut the hell up, Greg.’ All at the exact same time.

Theodor: Social norms, Greg . . . Sorry.

Greg: Ugh.

Fred: Anyways, so, we should have one more vote remaining. Clara’s guide?

Mie: You would think . . . but Clara took a table leg to the guy’s face. He’s dead.

Fred: Oh . . .

Theodor: This is one of the most anti-guide parties I have ever seen.

Sam: So we roll then?

Mie: Fine.

System: AnythingButSquished has initiated a Roll.

System: Greg rolled a 76

System: Player AnythingButSquished rolled a 9

System: Player IFartedInFrontOfHer rolled a 54

Mie: HA!

Sam: Wait, no fair! Greg took my roll slot! What the hell, Greg? Don’t roll.

Greg: Oh . . . I thought we were all rolling.

Mie: Classic Greg, thinking he’s one of us. And Fine, Sam, you want to go again? I’ll beat your ass like I always do.

System: Player AnythingButSquished rolled a 6

Sam: WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH THIS THING?!

System: Player IFartedInFrontOfHer rolled a 5

Sam: Never mind. I win!

Mie: :rage emoji: Best out of three?

Sam: Sigh. Fair.

System: Player AnythingButSquished rolled a 98

System: Player IFartedInFrontOfHer rolled a 21

Clara: Okay I don’t even want Sam’s plan. But that’s a clear win.

Mie: GOD DAMNIT, GREG. I HAD IT IN THE BAG.

We all sat back in our chairs, Mie clearly pissed.

“Look, I think—” I said.

“Don’t look me,” Mie said.

“Okay you’re just being unreasonable now,” I said.

“Okay you’re just being unreasonable now,” she copycatted in a pouty voice.

I sighed. “I’m sorry.” I looked her in the eyes and held out my hand. “Mie, do you trust me?”

She stood up abruptly, and stormed off to the bar. Uncertainty, fear, and sadness emanated through our bond.

What has gotten into her? I got up slowly, excusing myself, and made my way over to her. She was shaking slightly, her eyes looking forward. Uncertainty still swept through her. She really wanted to play it safe . . . I guess?

It was quiet for a long moment, then I put my hand on her back.

“You . . . okay?” I asked.

“Don’t you dare Whole New Worlding me,” she said curtly, referring to my outstretched hand from earlier. It was an epic scene in the movie Aladdin, where Aladdin reaches out his hand to Jasmine, asking her to trust him on a magic carpet ride. My gesture was . . . meant to be less romantical than that scene. Hopefully she didn’t think I was trying to be romantic. She is a baby. That would be really weird. No, I was just trying to show some confidence.

I felt uncertainty from her as she glanced back at Clara, and then to me.

One arm on her back still, I reached with my other and laid it palm up on the bar, and said it again. “Do you trust me?”

She gave me an angry look that I barely bore. Until finally, she deflated.

“Ugh. Fine. Okay,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Let’s put everything on luck then . . . like idiots. What the hell.”

As she grabbed my hand, I felt a strong black poison ebb its way into her stomach that I firmly ignored.

She was afraid.