“What do you mean by ‘toy’?” I was taken aback.
“You’ll see. Ivan, come here!”
A player ran up to us. He wasn’t wearing any armor, just a loincloth. He held a wooden shield and sword in his hands, similar in length and quality to mine.
“Enter the circle. I’m setting 10% of realism.”
“Hey, I’m not going to reload!”
“You don’t have to,” the coach replied. “The arena options allow you to change the level of realism without reloading. GO!”
My opponent attacked at once. I dodged and reached him with a retaliatory lunge but with minimal result. The damage was very small. Ivan suddenly slung his shield across his back, grabbed the sword with both hands and performed a combo, first wiping out my Stamina and then halving my Life bar with the final blow.
“Break up! Thanks, Ivan, you can return to training,” Kyle turned to me and gestured to the magic eye displaying the combat logs.
“Study the numbers and remember them well. The first lesson is free. These are the basics. Any character, be it a player or an NPC, has several types of defense. First, against physical damage, and second, against magical attacks, and, of course, resistance to all kinds of effects, such as poisoning.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Now look. When your sword was enchanted, 70 points of Chaotic damage were added. Acting according to the formulas, the system compensated for the addition, reducing your weapon’s physical damage by 35 points to avoid the appearance of an imbalanced sword. The result? The total damage increased. Now, this is important: Ivan’s defense against magic is 50. His physical defense, due to the high level of Strength, is 65. This means that he received 40 points of physical damage and 20 points of magical damage from your attack. A total of 60 damage instead of the 175 that your sword supposedly delivers! By dividing the damage into physical and chaotic, you’ve allowed your opponent to use two defenses at the same time. Mind you, Ivan wasn’t even wearing any armor!”
“Yes, I see now,” I said dejectedly, remembering my battle with the lizard.
“Don’t feel bad,” the coach encouraged me. “Just keep in mind for next time that if the weapon doesn’t have high scaling for Intellect, or if you haven’t leveled up your Intellect, then enchanting a sword with different types of magic makes no sense. It might look pretty but it’s just hot air. Don’t listen to the merchants. You have honest steel in your hands. Squeeze the maximum physical damage out of the sword since you are a Warrior.”
“What do I do with creatures that are vulnerable to fire, for example?” I asked.
“There are oils and resins for that. You can always use them to buff the sword at the right moment, depending on the situation. Such a buff doesn’t last long but it doesn’t reduce the main physical damage, adding to it instead. Got it?”
I nodded.
The coach handed me a training sword. “Get into the circle. I’m attacking. Let’s see how you move. Ready?”
“Yes!” I replied, watching Kyle carefully. He grinned, obviously planning to carry out a crushing combination of blows. It was clear from his stance. He held the sword in both hands at approximately shoulder height and with the sword tip pointing at me...
I didn’t hesitate and rolled to avoid the anticipated the combo.
The coach easily shifted his weapon into one hand and struck me twice on the back with the flat of his sword, as if with a stick. “You’re in too much of a hurry! You need to roll beneath a strike and not its imitation. My stance doesn’t mean anything! Got it?”
“Yes.”
“Ready to train?”
I mentally assessed the events of the last few minutes and nodded grimly.
“Good. I’ll make a strong swordsman out of you but I’ll charge a lot in gold and blood. Training is six hours per day. The course runs for two weeks. Do you agree?”
I nodded again. In only a few minutes, Long-armed_Kyle had demonstrated my, to put it mildly, mediocrity.
“Then let’s not waste any time,” he got straight to the point. “Today, we’ll study the basics. Remember that levels and abilities are good, but the real combat experience that you obtain here is unique. It will stay with you forever. You cannot develop it by farming mobs. Only fights with other players will show you what you are truly worth. I’ll work with you myself. You might want to warn your friends that you’ll return in the evening angry, battered and starving,” he chuckled.
I sent a message to Jeb and entered the circle.
The Secret of Forest Hill could wait. I had no intention of letting the lizard send me into respawn for the third time.
* * *
Over the next two weeks, I lived by the rules of the arena, setting aside all my current affairs.
The harsh training didn’t give me a single new level. Even adaptive leveling up didn’t work there, but every day, I discovered something new, learned to endure pain and fought until I was exhausted. I went to sleep in the real world at the insistence of the coach.
Jeb settled down in the library. I had paid for a room at the inn for the entire training period and so wasn’t worried about him.
The ‘Flooded Dungeon’ lot sold for 110,000 gold. The ‘Hunt for the Ifrit’ remained in limbo. I asked the coach for some time off, went to the bank and transferred 10,000 credits to the real world, using them to pay for the remainder of Sasha’s regeneration treatment.
Max still hadn’t shown up. My hope that he had survived was fading.
Having taken care of urgent business, I returned to the arena of Long-armed_Kyle.
I could barely keep up with the pace of the training. I lost most fights. In the evenings, after clambering out of the VR capsule, I had trouble getting to sleep as my whole body ached.
On the fifth or sixth day of exhausting bouts, I suddenly felt young again, as if I’d gotten a second wind.
Kyle had been observing me closely, often shaking his head and pointing out my mistakes, but now he only nodded in approval as he watched the sparring. My combat acrobatics quickly became automatic. I listened attentively to advice and instructions, and learned to predict enemy attacks by the type of weapon, direction of gaze, movements and tensing of muscles.
I felt the difference that the coach had mentioned straight away. NPCs were very predictable. Their attacks could be studied. Players were another matter entirely.
So many little things that I had previously ignored now allowed me to survive in intense fights.
The training was incredibly tough. Kyle forbid us from using regular healing potions, giving us minor ones instead, which removed debuffs caused by wounds and slightly increased our health points. This motivated us to be attentive and not miss any hits. If we did receive damage, we had to rapidly put some distance between us and our opponent and heal ourselves so that the pain didn’t impair our Stamina and reaction speed.
I learned how to ration my energy and use it efficiently. My Stamina no longer plunged to zero in frenetic but ineffective attacks. I constantly monitored my characteristic bars, not letting them drop to critical levels.
I appreciated the affix of the shield found on the Deadly Crag. The reduced consumption of Stamina allowed me to block several blows while preserving the energy for a sudden counterattack.
By the end of the training course, I was winning five bouts out of ten.
“That’s all,” Kyle looked pleased. “You have learned the basics, and the individual art of combat will come only with long practice.”
“Thank you,” I shook his hand firmly.
“You will always be welcome here. If you need work, come and see us. We often get contracts.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, although I don’t want to become a mercenary just yet.”
“Will you go solo?’
“I have a companion, a mage. We’re going to travel.”
“A good activity. And profitable. Geographical discoveries are in demand right now. I have added you as a friend. If you sudden
ly find yourself in need of help, send me a message with the coordinates. I always have teleportation scrolls at hand and can send over a few fighters in a matter of minutes. You know the rates.”
“Agreed. Is there a next level of education?”
“Only from Level 100, once you have filled in all the ability and skill slots. It is very individualized, depending on how the character has been leveled up.”
* * *
After leaving the arena of Long-armed_Kyle, I went to the tavern. Jeb and I had seen each other only briefly over the last few days. I needed to take him to Master André and order an outfit suitable for a mage, and collect my order at the same time.
To my surprise, the rented room was empty. It was almost evening but Jeb still hadn’t returned.
Looking at the map, I immediately saw his green marker. What was he doing outside the town, alone in the Peaceful Woods and, moreover, close to the blackberry bushes where the adult brown bear had made its den?
I became worried.
I tried to call him via voice chat but there was no response. ‘Maybe it’s the Dark players?’ came the uneasy thought. They were always sneaking about nearby!
“Jeb?”
He didn’t answer again, and my anxiety grew.
There were no teleports in the Peaceful Woods. Not even in the surrounding villages, since they had yet to be rebuilt after the invasion of the Abyss.
‘Why would that be... Of course! Teleportation would interfere with robbery. There must be corrupt NPCs in the courts and in the Mage Guild, in the service of the Dark ones,’ spurred on by such thoughts, I ran out of the tavern and sprinted to the nearest gate, alarming the respectable citizens of Anchor and arousing the interest of other players.
I briefly switched to walking once I was outside the town walls, to regenerate my flagging Stamina. The star metal shield (Kyle had identified it for me) worked not only when blocking blows, as it turned out. The Tireless affix was activated by any prolonged effort. I had slung the shield over my back so that it wouldn’t get in the way, but it still reduced my consumption of Stamina by 10%.
I started running again. Jeb’s marker was close and hardly moving. Naturally, this didn’t put me in mind of anything good. A small clearing was the typical place for a robbers’ camp. How many of them were there? If two or three, I could handle them.
The forest rustled quietly. I couldn’t hear any voices but the smell of smoke from a fire drifted between the trees.
There were no crimson markers. Had they spotted me and gone into stealth mode?
I held the sword in a two-handed grip and activated Rage. Not all Dark players leveled up Stealth, so I was going to send into respawn the first one I spotted, and then act according to the situation.
The element of surprise was a bonus in any fight, hence I didn’t hesitate and rushed into the clearing.
The turf in the middle had been removed. A small fire crackled in the circle of loosened earth. Beside it stood a lopsided hut and an equally unassuming lean-to, with walls made of poles and a roof covered with fir branches. Jeb sat on a tree stump in front of the fire. A rag was spread out on the ground before him, various jars were scattered around and a pot hung over the flames, hissing and giving out the scent of herbs.
A reddish shape flashed through the branches of the nearest tree and my interface displayed detailed information about the friendly creature.
Weasel, Level 10.
Active ability to See What is Hidden, Level 3.
Current quest: search.
…
I lowered my sword and breathed a sigh of relief.
Jeb hadn’t even noticed me, absorbed in leafing through the pages of an old book and occasionally stirring the herby brew.
I stepped closer to the fire and asked sternly, “Why aren’t you answering my calls?”
He didn’t even startle, only turned around, “Oh, hey there, Dan! Sorry, I turned off the sound and minimized the messaging window so it wouldn’t distract me.”
“Is that your work?” I indicated the hut and lean-to.
“Yep,” he admitted proudly. “I spent all day making them. I discovered the skills Naturalist and Natural Philosopher and now I’m leveling them up, together with Herbalism and Alchemy.”
“You’re making potions then?”
“I’m collecting plants, brewing potions, and developing Weasel’s ability to See What is Hidden at the same time.”
“How are you doing that, if it’s not a secret?” I sat down by the fire.
“He climbs up a tree and looks for the ingredients that I need. They’re mostly hidden, either in the thick grass or underground, if they’re roots.”
“What about robbers?”
Jeb arched an eyebrow. “What are they going to do to me? Yeah, two tried to sneak up on me yesterday. Weasel spotted them a mile away. I’ve fully restored my Intellect after my trips to the library, to the detriment of other characteristics, of course, but I’m a Mage, not a warrior of necessity, like before,” he grinned.
“So, what happened to the Dark ones?”
“I entangled them in poisonous vines.”
“You sent them into respawn?”
“Yep. They didn’t even know who offed them. They blamed the blackberries, I heard one screaming to the other, ‘It’s mutated!’”
Only now did I look at my friend’s frame in surprise.
Jeber_Arium. Battlemage. Level 40.
…
“There’s also a bear that keeps hanging around here,” he continued, as if nothing had happened. “The woods are cool. I can breathe more easily and I’m sleeping better.”
“The bear,” I reminded him.
“It’s a bit dumb,” Jeb shrugged. “It can’t seem to understand that it can’t win against me. I found several powerful spells at the library. Look at this,” he put the book down, stood up and rapidly cast a spell. A flaming sphere appeared high over the clearing. It hung immobile, crackling and shimmering in shades of red.
The grass stirred at the edge of the meadow. Five or six small clumps of flame immediately split off from the fireball and each one struck a target.
“Perfect, that will be dinner,” Jeb laughed and went to one of the scorched spots. He returned with a rabbit.
Well, Jeb certainly hadn’t wasted any time after the morbid dungeons of the Dark Frontier. He had restored his Intellect, went up ten levels, discovered new skills and was training Weasel. And here I was, still trying to protect him out of habit...
“How is it at night?”
“It’s quiet. Just the forest rustling and the stars in the sky.” he replied dreamily. “I built the hut to have a safe place to rest. Sometimes a werewolf howls nearby but it doesn’t bother me.”
“You’re not sleeping in the tavern, then?”
“No, it’s too noisy there. I much prefer it here.”
I didn’t have the heart to reprimand him for his carelessness. Thirty-five points of Intellect, powerful spells, plus Weasel as an early warning system were very impressive for the Peaceful Woods, but if a gang of, say, ten Dark players had appeared, Jeb would already be chained up in the dungeons of the Dark Frontier.
No, I didn’t scold him. The guy had only recently found himself again and began to believe in his own abilities.
“Let’s make a deal that we sleep in town, okay? If we leave the protection of the town walls, we do it together.”
“Okay. But can we stay here tonight?” he nodded in the direction of the makeshift building, already surrounded by an Aura of Immunity.
We ate dinner and sat by the fire. Jeb poured the finished elixir into vials and fell asleep on a pile of hay in the lean-to, blaming fatigue.
I sat looking at the stars for a long time.
Two very important events were going to happen tomorrow. First, Sasha’s active regeneration would be complete. Second, I was going to go to the wooded hill at noon and test my theory about the position of the sun and the Shadow Warrior’s lev
el.
But what would happen next?
Max had disappeared. I didn’t want to believe that he was dead.
The moon was peeking through the trees, its cold light flooding the clearing. Jeb was snoring softly. Weasel was curled up in a ball beside him, also asleep.
The air was clear and heavy with the smell of herbs.
Which world did I belong to now?
Maybe I should stop, find out where Jeb’s VR capsule was located and emerge from the world of digital dreams?
Edge of the Abyss (Respawn Trials Book #1) LitRPG Series Page 28
