Life Reset: Human Resource (New Era Online Book 4)

by Shemer Kuznits

  I could feel the clan’s information tendrils around me contract as Kaedric summoned four new metalist crafters then siphoned the required energy to raise them to level 10 and maximize their crafting skills. I also knew I had over half a million EP remaining, and with all the high-level members of my clan, our daily yield was only increasing. It looked like the saying was right: money breeds more money – or in my case, energy.

  New building added to your settlement: War Machine Workshop

  New building expansion added to your settlement: Barracks Second Floor

  Barracks lodging capacity increased to 200 (+100).

  Global building upgrade completed: Improved Lodging

  Settlement-wide lodging capacity increased by 50% (+205).

  I shook my head. Trust Kaedric not to waste any time. And just like that, my clan could now lodge over 200 additional people.

  I wanted to teleport to the new war machine workshop right away, but I’d been putting off inspecting the barracks, and it was time I finally did so.

  I forced myself to walk rather than teleport the short distance to the barracks. I wanted to see life flowing in my clan, and whisking through didn’t really give me a chance to experience that. So I walked.

  Everywhere I went, teams of workers were engaged, cooperating and working together. Goods were flowing in and out of the various buildings – raw resources delivered and finished products coming out for storage. My dream of a well-oiled goblin machine was taking shape in front of me.

  The circular barracks looked even more impressive than before with its brand new floor. The place was teeming with soldiers, but the interior courtyard was large enough to hold an even larger crowd. The soldiers in the courtyard were divided into groups. Yulli, the scout boss, was instructing 20 of the newly summoned scouts on the proper way of holding a bow. Several of the players were also engaged with groups of soldiers, drilling them in team maneuvers. But the majority of the soldiers were standing and cheering around the mouth of the arena pit.

  I frowned as the ambient information tendrils hinted at what was going on inside. I approached the pit, the towering soldiers moving aside to give way, and I was able to get a look at the battle taking place below.

  Lirian was battling two veteran lieutenants – Orrq and Vaelin. And they weren’t using training weapons.

  I felt the blood boil in my veins as the two lieutenants coordinated their attacks in an attempt to overpower my daughter. Orrq came in with a low spear thrust, while Vaelin, holding a shield, moved to flank her. I nearly yelled in alarm as Lirian jumped back to evade the spear, right into an incoming shield block that would send her hurtling back toward the waiting spear.

  At that moment, I forgot all about the arena’s safety measures and the fact that it was just a mock battle. My daughter was in danger, and it was my place to help her.

  I froze Vaelin, stopping him from delivering the blow. But I was a fraction of a second too late. The lieutenant shield-bashed my daughter before finding himself suddenly incapacitated. As if in slow-motion, I saw Lirian tumble toward the awaiting spear.

  “No!” I started to scream.

  But I shouldn’t have worried.

  Moving like an acrobat, Lirian transformed her forward momentum into a one-handed somersault. The awaiting spear missed my daughter by a hair’s breadth then she completed the roll, bringing herself behind Vaelin, where she had a clear sight of both her opponents. She casually deflected another spear strike with her open palm, then inhaled through her nose and opened her mouth. A gout of flame washed over the two hobs, cooking their flesh. Orrq dropped his spear and fell, clutching at his burns, while Vaelin’s mouth was opened in a frozen muted scream.

  Lirian had won.

  Guiltily, I unfroze the poor hob, and he fell on the floor next to his comrade. Both lieutenants had a single HP left.

  “Princess Lirian is the winner!” a voice declared from across the pit. It was Tenragan, the old hob I had appointed as the arena master. He smiled at me as I approached him. “Chief, your daughter is quite the fighter. You should be proud.”

  I scowled at him. “What the hell were you thinking, putting her against not one, but two lieutenants?”

  His eyes met mine calmly. “All three are of similar levels, and I thought this was better than to keep letting your daughter pummel the grunts, Chief. It’s bad for morale. As you can see, even when restricted to not using her magic, your daughter’s fighting prowess is formidable. I’ll need to add another restriction for using breath weapons in the arena, or I won’t have any soldiers left she hasn’t beaten yet.”

  I blinked at him. “She … what?”

  He grinned at me. “Your daughter has already bested half of our warriors. Well, those that are roughly the same level as she is. It’s pointless to pit her against the recruits or our own elites. But I estimate it won’t take long before only Rhynorn will be left to pose a challenge.”

  I was taken aback. “She’s that good?”

  He shook his head. “In all my years as a gladiator, I’ve never seen someone with a natural talent like hers. Her potential is astounding. Whatever weapon she picks, she’s almost instantly proficient with it. I have no doubt that in a few short years, she’ll be able to claim the title of Champion in any arena.”

  Just then Lirian climbed out of the pit and approached me. “Father, have you seen me fight?” Her eyes gleamed with excitement. “They nearly had me with that flanking maneuver, but I pulled through.”

  “You were amazing, kid.” I smiled at her. “I’m proud of you.”

  Her return smile was almost bright enough to light up the never-ending darkness. “I have to hurry; one of the travelers promised to teach me mar-shal arts. It’s something to do with combat, not painting.”

  “You mean martial arts. It’s a form of unarmed combat.”

  “Oh.” She threw me a shy smile. Then she kissed me on the cheek, and before I knew it, she was running away.

  Tenragan smiled affectionately. “Kids. So much energy and vigor. But they’re always in a hurry.”

  I nodded as I watched my daughter sprint to join a group of soldiers. They were closely huddled together, so I couldn’t tell which player was teaching them.

  “How do you like your new position?” I asked the old hob.

  “I’m very grateful,” he said, though I heard a slight hesitation in his reply.

  “Out with it,” I said. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s just …” he paused. “I’m unable to fully assume my role as arena master.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “What’s the problem?”

  “An arena master must be a competent fighter. He needs to be strong and seasoned enough to train promising challengers. I have the experience, but I’m afraid the arena won’t accept me as its true master unless I’m stronger. An elite.”

  “Oh.” I realized what he meant. “You’re saying an arena master must be a boss.” It made sense. Glaive, Akzar’s arena master, was a tier 3 boss and very capable at his job. “Well, as it just so happens, I’m in the market for new bosses.” I smiled at him and reached for the Settlement Interface. I selected Tenragen and paid the required 1,000 energy points to promote him to a tier 1 boss. Almost as an afterthought, I also selected Bob and repeated the process. My lieutenant had earned the promotion a hundredfold by now.

  “How is it now?” I asked with a smile. The hob before me seemed to grow by a few centimeters, and his chest expanded. He still looked odd, but now he was giving off a sense of power that wasn’t there before.

  He examined his arms with a look of fascination. “It’s amazing, Chief. The arena now obeys my commands.”

  I could feel what he was doing. The arena’s settings were rapidly changing; no magic allowed, bladed weapons only, victory by drawing first blood, and a few other options I didn’t even know were possible.

  “Dire Totem!” a familiar voice called.

  I turned and saw Bob hurrying toward us. My loyal lieutenan
t had also visibly grown. The vines he used to wrap around his arms now encircled his torso and biceps and seemed to be wiggling gently as if they were living snakes.

  “Bob.” I greeted him with a big smile. “How are those new muscles working out for you?”

  “Like I can take on four travelers single-handedly.”

  I grinned at him. “Sounds about right. How are the recruits working out?”

  “They are hobs,” he stated matter-of-factly. “They are disciplined and they train hard. All they lack now is combat experience to become worthy warriors. We have a small problem with housing though. The barracks can only accommodate about half of them.”

  I winced. “Even after building the second floor and the lodging upgrade?”

  “Yes. We have close to 500 warriors but only enough room for 300. And the Ogres do take double the space of a hob. Those without a bed will take longer to train.”

  “Nothing we can do about that right now,” I said. “Rotate the soldiers so they each get the same share of the bonus for training.” The barracks was, after all, more than a themed hostel. Soldiers benefited in more than one way from being stationed here.

  “Yes, Dire Totem,” Bob said. “What are your orders?”

  “Keep training the new recruits,” I said. “After tonight’s naming ceremony, I want you to start coordinating oxsaurian hunts. Send out the players’ squads, and make sure to have a few veterans watch over them.” Hunting the level 40 beasts was a tried and true process for fast-leveling my clan members. “I want them all to reach level 10 at least before we start sending them out to conquer other clans. And they need to be at least level 20 before we march on Everance.”

  My normally level-headed lieutenant gave me a bloodthirsty grin. Despite his urban mannerisms, he was still a hob at heart, and the notion of blood and conquest appealed to his nature. “Yes, Dire Totem!”

  I turned to leave and found Kyth blocking my way. The small gnomblin looked at me strangely. “So you really intend to carry on with your crazy plan to attack Everance?”

  I raised an eyebrow at him. “Of course. Didn’t you see the 300 new soldiers? I know it’s not enough to take on a city the size of Everance, but we’re just getting started.”

  Kythareon shook his head. “I don’t think it matters what you do; you’ll need tens of thousands of soldiers to attack – and win – against a city that size. I’ve noticed how you built up your clan. It’s quite an amazing logistical feat, but in my opinion, you just don’t have the resources required to produce an army large enough for that.”

  I looked at him steadily. “Not yet. But you’re not aware of all the tools I have at my disposal. Like the fact that Goblin’s Gorge is now a military-based capital that grows in strength with each settlement I conquer.”

  I knew I didn’t have to increase my clan through conquest. I had the abandoned Ogre Fort and a hobgoblin war camp under my control. I could send out an expedition of soldiers and workers to colonize and build up those settlements and summon hob nobles to lead them and players to support them. They would gradually grow in size and power, which would reflect back to Goblin’s Gorge. But that plan had one major shortcoming: it needed time and resources. I couldn’t justify taking my time while thousands of players suffered all over NEO. Any resource I’d pour into such a project would set back my conquest deadline.

  The time for colonization was over. Now was the time for war and conquest.

  The gnomblin looked at me gravely. “Even if you’re right, you’re going at it all wrong. Have you stopped to consider the steps you’ll have to take along the way? Or does your master plan boil down to ‘storm Everance with overwhelming forces’?”

  The short guy had a point. Back in the days when I was still the Manapulators’ guildmaster, I kept mostly to managing the guild’s affairs and left the tactical side to my officers. “Steps such as …?”

  He offered me a comforting smile. “Don’t feel bad, no one can be an expert in every field. That’s why we have specialists. I’m in no way a genius tactician, but I’ve been part of a large campaign or two in the past. When countries fight in the game, there’s a lot of strategy involved. A lot of moving pieces. You can win an engagement only to find that the enemy took over your capital when you left it unguarded. Or you might advance too quickly through enemy territory and suddenly find yourself cut away from reinforcements, surrounded by enemy forces.”

  “So … what do you suggest?

  He tapped his teeth. “As I said, I’m no tactician, but some of the other players here are. You’ll also need an updated map of the area around Everance. I believe we can create a pretty updated sketch using the players’ network.”

  I nodded. “You’re making a lot of sense. Alright, we’ll convene a players’ meeting after the ceremony.”

  “What ceremony?”

  “The naming ceremony, of course.”

  19 - Naming Ceremony

  I spent the next few hours helping Bob and the other lieutenants oversee the mass of new warriors. It wasn’t that my hob officers weren’t good at their job, but there was a sort of finality to a chief’s orders they could not replicate.

  Once we were done, I sent a message to all the players telling them that whoever wanted to become a squad leader was to report to the Dark Temple. Then I teleported to the inn for a pleasant dinner with my two girls.

  The food was excellent, as usual. Gandork had served us his latest invention, which he ostentatiously dubbed ‘Flaming Tar Tar.’ It was basically raw diced fish with luminous gravy made of glowing lichen served over a thin layer of magmashroom filet. The glowing gravy bubbled and hissed as it seeped through the cold fish cubes and hit the hot magmashroom below. Everything was served over beautiful glass plates bought from our resident gremlin traders.

  Lirian was level 15 now. She amused us by describing her arena fight, demonstrating some of the maneuvers with her fork. Tika listened, proud of her daughter’s prowess, and we both exchanged knowing smiles as the girl continued to animatedly stab the air with her cutlery.

  Once we were done, I got up and kissed the two lovely goblinettes goodbye before teleporting away.

  Daddy had a few hobs to name … or sacrifice.

  ***

  I materialized out of the shadows to stand at the edge of Totem’s Watch, just outside the temple. The hobs and players were all waiting for me, divided into squads on the ground below. There was a distinct gap in their ranks as they took care to stay away from the mass of darkness obscuring the Outrider sword.

  I was delighted to see that all the players had arrived. It seemed that the seven who had joined me in the raid had spread the news. The opportunity to gain XP in relative safety was obviously even more appealing than I first thought.

  Each player stood at the head of his squad, consisting of roughly 20 soldiers. Each squad had its own division of tanks, DPS, and ranged warriors. Two had hob adepts for offensive magic support, and everyone also had a single goblin adept specialized in healing.

  “Welcome,” I said, standing high above everyone. “For most of you, this is your first time to witness this ritual. I will soon call you up here one squad at a time. Together, the squad leader and I will officially inaugurate each soldier in turn by giving them a name. Those who survive the procedure will join the eternal army of the GreenPiece Clan, and I give you the same promise I have given every other soldier: For as long as the clan lives on, so shall you. If you die in battle, you’ll rise to fight another day. For the GreenPiece Clan!”

  “For the GreenPiece Clan!” the soldiers, and even the players, bellowed.

  “Once we’re done here, the players and I will have a meeting in my war room to discuss our next move. But that’s for later. Malkyr, your squad will have the honor of being first. Come up here and join me at the temple.”

  The large man climbed the ladder, and his squad followed. I walked into the temple and stood next to the blood-stained altar. Malkyr approached me with a solemn expression,
leading one of his tanks. “This guy’s name is–”

  “Hold on.” I cut him off and told the soldier, “Lie on the altar.”

  Malkyr’s face clouded, but he didn’t object as the hob obediently followed my order.

  I nodded at the player. “Carry on.”

  The large man inhaled deeply. “This is Horiku.”

  I proceeded by granting Horiku the Lucky Bastard skill.

  But luck wasn’t on our side this time.

  I froze the poor hob as he started thrashing, and his flesh bubbled. I raised my dagger.

  Malkyr’s fist closed around my hand, holding me in place. “No, wait, there’s gotta be another way.”

  “Let me go!” I said urgently. “We don’t have a lot of time.”

  “There must be something we can do for him,” the big oaf insisted. “Maybe if we can–”

  He didn’t get to finish the sentence. The hob’s pain ended as he burst apart, showering us both with blood and viscera.

  “Shadow-crap.” I looked down at my drenched armor. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

  Malkyr was spluttering hob bits from his mouth. “What the hell, man? That was horrible.”

  I shrugged. “It happens sometimes. I did warn you. Too bad it happened on your first time. Oh well, time to call in the next guy.”

  “Dude, that’s cold. We can’t just lead them like sheep to the slaughter.”

  “Their death is a song of glory to the master,” a dark voice said, coming from the far corner of the temple. Then Kuzai appeared out of the shadows. The demented priest’s mouth was twisted in a vicious grin. “All fallen serve the master, their blood and pain fuel his–”

  “Shut up,” I said. “I don’t need your help.”

  I glanced at Malkyr. The big man looked like he was ready to explode himself. I pointed at the rest of his squad. “Look at them,” I said patiently. The hobs stared blankly at us, indifferent in the face of the horror show that just transpired. “They’re nothing more than simple, unthinking automatons. Nothing more than basic scripted digital characters. What we try to do here is to turn them into thinking individuals. Give them a soul.”