We travelled safely, on official roads with the "public" status, because I was a low-level player. They looked like the common, dirt covered roads, sprinkled here and there with thoroughly rammed gravel, with traces of hooves and paws left by various mounts. I haven't seen any mounts yet. Everything was deserted in this late hour. The roads were enchanted with a "Purity" spell, constantly renewed by the acolytes of the "Temple of the Reborn". Whenever a beast from the forest crossed the invisible border, it was immediately gripped by fear and weakness. Regular mobs kept away from such roads, allowing wayfarers to travel without interference.
"If you want explanations, it's not the clans I should start with."
I perked up my ears, realizing that he was finally ready to talk. For half an hour now he had been talking about nothing that I was really interested in. Apparently, after the test battle Grant had a good opinion about me. I snorted. A battle... It was a skirmish, nothing more. Beating up peaceful mobs with "superior skills". Awkward.
"I'm all ears, boss!" I nudged the mage's shoulder, noticing that he had fallen into deep thought.
"I'm not your Bo-... Fine. I see that you gave me a new nickname. Do not to interrupt me; the story is long and confusing. You might miss something important."
"Okay." I made a very serious face. "I'll be as silent as a church mouse."
"So the first problem with the 'sandbox' is the weapons... I told you not to interrupt me!"
I chuckled and held back my question.
"You do not even realize how unique the thing that you're holding in your hands is. My first duty is to explain that to you. Right after creating an avatar, every newcomer of the 'Universe ICS' is granted a permanent unique weapon, one most relevant to his physiological and psychological preferences."
Without slowing my step, I silently unsheathed my sword. Turning the blade in front of my face, I examined it from all sides. It felt as if I had been using it all my life. But, somehow, it was really shabby looking. Oddly enough, it was completely clean from blood. There was not a single stain on the blade, although I didn't remember cleaning it. Really convenient.
Grant nodded and continued:
"Hold it tight, don't drop it. The 'Uniq's' stats grow with the level of its user as it levels up with them. However, at level ten, the player gets the opportunity to carry his weapon to the elder locations. But only if he proves his valor and luck, if not... Mr. Esco will force you to use the 'Duplicator'. Don't reach for the bag, you don't need it now, and you probably won't need it until level ten. So, after being submitted to the 'Duplicator', the 'Uniq' will lose its stat growth properties and will stay a level ten weapon. Once you grow out of it, you'll have to look for something better. Did I get you interested?"
"Something tells me that many players would be at each other's throats for a chance to get such a gadget."
"Precisely," Grant agreed. "Each player must prove to Mr. Esco that they are worthy of such a weapon. And to do that, you need to clear the local dungeon and defeat 'The Destroyer'."
"The Destroyer?"
"Many names, he has: 'The Soul Killer', 'The Puppet Master', 'The Phantom Avenger', 'The Master of Souls'... Most players call him 'The Destroyer'."
Pausing, the mage took a left turn. The road parted in two, and I had no choice but to follow him. He knew the area better than I did. The forest along the roadside became denser, and the bushes grew thicker. The fairies I had seen in "Daisy" didn't dwell here. They were probably native to that area. As we moved, the virtual map gradually filled up with vast areas adjacent to the road. If one needed to go back on their own, they wouldn't get lost. The road didn't interest me at all. Anxiously, I waited for Grant to tell me more.
"Let me tell you the whole legend," Grant continued, pinching the edge of his wide-brimmed hat and pulling it over his eyes. "So, 'The Destroyer' is, in fact, the boss of this location and a powerful creature that got into 'Wondergarden' through a breach of reality from another world and got stuck in ours. It dwells in the dungeon, near the 'Source' of elemental energy, and cannot make a step further. The boss is powerful; the 'Source' itself, not so much. It has enough energy to just barely support his lousy, story-based life. Quite naturally, caught up in such a predicament, he struggles to expand his zone of influence. He has an intangible bond with his former world and can summon the souls of his servants who, in turn, gather creatures from other locations and bring them to him. Through a ritual, those minions are able to transcend into the creatures' bodies. The boss performs the ritual himself, using the ability embodied in a special artifact dagger, called 'The Soulcatcher'. His servants have another task - to capture other 'Sources'. There are two in this location. The 'Sources' will increase the power of their master and give him a chance to gain complete power over the world. But the 'Sources' are guarded day and night by the 'Guardians of the Reborn', who, on a regular basis, ruthlessly destroy the servants of 'The Destroyer', thus receiving experience, save points and honing their skills."
I listened carefully. He was a proper storyteller... Was he reading all of this out of his virtual glossary? Not like it mattered. Listening to him was more interesting than observing the bushes and trees.
"Is that the main method of leveling – dailies near the 'Sources'?"
"Yes," Grant nodded vigorously, almost losing his hat. He managed to catch it at the last moment. "However, there are other quests in addition to the 'Loyal Friend' questline and the dailies. But it's all random; the system generates them depending on the player's actions... You distracted me. So, one can't destroy 'The Destroyer' completely, only his current physical incarnation. Becoming a spirit, he inevitably gains physical form again. His power grows every day. Therefore, Mr. Esco regularly gives players the quest to clear the dungeon. The entrance to the dungeon is restricted for players levels six to eight. The minimum party capacity is two players, the maximum is five. But people usually go in threes; the less people in the party, the higher the chance to get the ritual dagger after defeating 'The Destroyer'."
"So it's all about the dagger!" I exclaimed loudly. The bushes resounded with the frantic flapping of wings, and something small soared into the sky. I didn't have the time to have a better look at it. "The one who receives it proves that he is worthy of a 'Uniq'? Drop rate must be low. What are the chances of getting it as a duo?"
"I won't lie. A party of two has a low survival rate, so this option is less popular," Grant admitted, "but people still opt for it. There are always adventuring types. Additionally, dungeon difficulty for a party of two is reduced by 30%."
"Some advantage that is…"
"Dungeon difficulty for a party of three is 100%. For a party of five – 160%."
"I take that back, then." I shook my head, puzzled. "The difficulty drop is significant. It's easier to share the loot and XP between two than between three players, let alone five. That's your plan then? Is that what you need me for? What about the stats? How often do duos defeat 'The Destroyer'?"
"Calm down, Wise bro, calm down," Grant laughed softly. "I'll tell you everything. Yes, I like this option much more, and that's what Stinger and I wanted to try out…"
"Wanted? What went wrong?"
"At first everything was fine," Grant sighed with a sad look in his eyes. "The mentor, as you know, levels up before the mentee, and goes to the dungeon first. The training ends there, as after the dungeon the player usually reaches level nine or ten. There is nothing left to do but go further – into one of the portals. Stinger and I had a different plan. After level seven, he slowed his leveling a bit, limiting himself to the mandatory dailies, and devoted all of his time and effort to get me to level six. We were well prepared. The plan was to leave the location together as a powerful duo." Grant let out a sad chuckle and reluctantly finished his story. "And then Stinger had to end the lives of a couple of overzealous players."
"And what's wrong with that?" Being hunted myself, PvP[2] rules piqued my interest and grabbed my attention. "If the game rules allow it�
��"
Grant shook his head.
"Remember the main rule of survival: players are forbidden to kill each other in the starting location. And yet, it sometimes happens. Immediate punishment follows the first murder - minus one save. Mr. Esco personally takes care of it, he…"
"'Takes care of it'?" I squinted. "Look, stop beating around the bush. What does it look like in practice?"
"Mr. Esco personally kills the loser," Grant said slowly. "Is that clear?"
"Crystal clear," I nodded, dumbfounded. "No one ever fought back?"
"You haven't seen him yet, Wise," Grant chuckled. "You can't fight back. He's beyond levels. He... You'll see it for yourself. And if one commits murder for the second time... Mr. Esco promptly gives them a direct, one-way ticket to the 'Inferno', regardless of level and clan."
"Again with the 'Inferno'!" Something cracked in the bushes again. I heard rapidly retreating footsteps and involuntarily lowered my voice. "You never told me what was wrong with that portal!"
"Okay, just to be clear, it's randomness in its purest form. The gate does not just send you to a random world of the 'Universe ICS'. It can throw the loser into the worst possible world, where the mobs are levels above that of the player, with minimal chances of survival. I don't feel like checking what it really means, do you?"
"Ugh, shit ... You sure know how to pick the right moment to share the good news. I'm not bloodthirsty; I don't plan on killing anyone. What about self-defense? Am I even entitled to that?"
"Of course. But there's self-defense, and there's self-defense. There was a smart-ass here recently who picked a fight with a player and then killed him in 'self-defense'. His plan didn't work out. In general, Mr. Esco always personally decides whether you're guilty of murder or not. He's both the judge and the jury here. Therefore, it is better not go to extremes. I don't want to go into details, suffice to say that my mentor had his reasons. Our plan to clear 'The Destroyer's' lair together fell apart like a house of cards. I was left alone and got removed from the queue for the dungeon."
"The rest of the story is easy to guess," I nodded in understanding. "You waited for a newbie in order to form a new party and repeat Stinger's idea? Like a silly fish caught twice by the same bait?"
"Laugh all you want, but I still want to get the 'Uniq'. The world outside the 'sandbox' is much harder, and a good weapon is the best tool for survival. If you agree with my plan, I will follow Stinger's example - halt my leveling and focus on yours. I've been here for five days now, Wise, and I only have three days left to get you to level six. This is doable as you don't need much time to level in the beginning…"
"Wait, I don't understand. Where's the rush? What do you mean, 'three days'?"
Grant suddenly stopped at the middle of the road and stared at me in disbelief. I was forced to slow down.
"Ears didn't tell you, did he? That earless bastard... A novice has the right to remain in the starting area for ten days only. They must get to level eight within eight days! Upon reaching level eight, they are given a day to prepare. If, for some reason, the player does not get into the queue for the dungeon, or refuses to do it, or does not level in time…"
"'Inferno'?" I assumed, feeling an unpleasant chill settle in my chest. "And if a player dies in the dungeon? That happens often, doesn't it?"
"If you have a spare save you get reborn in the 'Replicator' and you must reach level ten during whatever time you have left. But, don't hope for an unique weapon anymore. There's no second run. You are refused access to the dungeon."
Geez... I didn't plan on getting stuck in the "sandbox" by myself, especially considering that letter. But after everything I just heard…
It was one thing to sit in the starting location as long as you wanted and leave as soon as you were ready. It was a completely different thing to know that you would be thrown out of there, like a naughty dog, if the mysterious Mr. Esco did not like something.
"What an overkill. My head is going to burst... Okay. What do you need me for?"
"Well, if you're willing to risk it…" Grant paused and thought for a moment. "You know, the thing is, Stinger was a 'tank'. You are an 'elemental warrior', and it will be harder to make you a 'tank', even if we get you to level eight. You'll get too few stat points. Not to mention that your complexion is far from heroic."
I knew exactly what he was talking about. A "tank" was a player with a special spec. As a rule, the average damage that the "tank" received was lower than that of an ordinary player. Their main stats were focused on armor and survival. Unlike the other specs, "tanks" where best suited for drawing "aggro", that is, the aggression the mobs showed towards the player. Simply put, the "tank" should be able to draw the attention of the mob to themselves, so that the mob, as angry as it was, doesn't pay attention to anyone else, even if their damage output was higher than that of the "tank". The rest of the party could easily finish off the mobs while they busied themselves with the "tank". In all honesty, it was kind of strange that I remembered the existence of other games, but not their names or details about them. Just the general knowledge of standard game mechanics. The information was probably stored somewhere in the avatar's consciousness so that it had a vague idea about where it was and what it was supposed to do... I shook my head, banishing unnecessary thoughts, and looked straight into Grant's eyes.
"Tell me the plan."
"We need a 'tank' pet," he said, "and a special one at that."
"Got it. I assume you know where to get one. That's where we're heading, right?"
"Yeah," Grant nodded. "But the chance of taming it is low. I should warn you – if we fail to get the right pet... I'll get you to level five, and as soon as I hit level eight, we will be leaving for the dungeon with any suitable players. I don't want to give Mr. Esco the opportunity to chuck my destiny through the window... I mean, through the 'Inferno'. I advise you do the same."
I gave his proposal a deep thought. This is why he put so much trust into a newcomer he knew nothing about. He had no choice. This was his last chance to get into the dungeon on his own terms. That's why he was courting me so hard and giving me lavishing smiles. Adventurer, and a stubborn one, too. However, I liked his plan. Was I the same adventurous kind as he was? He promised to level me fast. If I planned to get out of here before shit hits the fan, that's exactly what I needed to do. "OK, Grant, fine. Why not give it a try? Lead me to that pet."
Grant gave me a content smile and, pat my shoulder. The strength of a level seven player made me wince. Getting off the road, he silently moved through the forest.
Chapter 5
"Beginning the trial"
"Here. Sit next to me while I finish the arrangements. Or wander around if you wish, just don't go too far, and don't go the lake."
"Yes, boss!" I jokingly saluted. "Roger, boss!"
"I'm not your boss, stop playing around!"
"Well, I'm your student after all."
"I told you to stop playing around. You're not a damn student, you're…" Grant frowned. Snapping his fingers, he struggled to find an appropriate word. "You're a lower level partner. Stop posing as my subordinate. It's in your best interest to heed my advice."
"That's what I meant, boss," I smirked, continuing to tease, but Grant stopped paying attention to me.
Turning his head, wide-brimmed hat obscuring his face, he chose a suitable place for his summoning ritual. Throwing off the backpack, he put aside the hindering staff and squatted. He plucked the grass, clearing out a small spot of land, retrieved a small disk made of light, polished wood, called the "Altar of Pet Summoning", from his bag and pressed it into the wet, black soil.
I observed him carefully as I would have to do the same ritual in the near future.
Grant continued the rite.
Six smoky crystals the size of a finger, the so called "Soul Crystals", were inserted into special grooves along the edges of the disk. "Pet Seed of the Novice", same as mine, went into the central recess of the "Altar". Once he was
done, the mage rose to his feet and looked at his meticulous handiwork. Satisfied, he nodded and, shaking the dirt off his clothes, stepped aside near an impressive tree-trunk which was deeply pressed into the ground. It must have been laying there for quite a while, as its lumpy, black bark was overgrown with moss and mushrooms. The bark had completely peeled off in some places, exposing the bone white wood underneath. Next to it, lost in the grass, lay many broken branches. Fuel for a fire, if the need arises. Grant sat on the trunk, ready to wait.
"Are you sure it's going to rain?" I felt no wind, and, although the thunder kept grumbling somewhere far away, sluggishly and somewhat unconvincingly, not a single drop of rain had fallen so far.
"100% sure," Grant nodded with a slight, anxious smile, apparently still nervous about the upcoming event. However, he tried his best to look calm and confident. "No worries. Mages are hypersensitive to weather changes."
"You know the best, boss."
Not feeling tired I had a look around. The milky night sky regularly doused the earth with faint light. The place we found ourselves in was quite picturesque. The deciduous forest lay on a slight slope; the area, slightly dent, formed a spacious bowl at the bottom of which was a lake, hundred and fifty feet wide, its surface reflecting the moonless sky. Dark as mercury, it looked like a portal to the underworld. Rows of sedge thickets and weeping willows framed its shore.
On the map, the unnamed lake was marked with a blue spot. Since Grant had warned me about it, I did not intend to approach it without a party. Noticing no suspicious movements, I went over to the trunk. "Uniq" subtly trembled with each step, assuring me that I had a way of defending myself if anything goes wrong.
I decided to take care of a small problem while we waited. The beer I had drunk at the inn had been asking to go outside for a while now. I found a nice, deep pit, left behind by the mighty roots of a long dead tree, that was almost completely overgrown with moss. Having philosophically estimated the force of a hurricane needed to ruin such a wooden giant, I undid the rope like belt on my trousers. A small stream rushed down with a funny murmur, drowning out the sounds of the forest.
Soulcatcher Page 5
