“You have no idea what we can do, kid,” Ern called out as Nick ducked under the gel. The warm, viscous substance revived his flagging spirits, but only a little. He knew that death was imminent, and that Ern would follow through on all of his threats.
Like a man on death row, Nick’s mind retreated into itself. To do otherwise was to court madness. Just as his body was flirting with the idea of long, limitless sleep, Oakshield’s female narrator began her soft, melodious introduction to the Tomb of the Fallen.
The Kingdom of men has reached a profound crossroads in its history. Its army in disarray, its populace threatened on all sides, everything rests on the shoulders of one. Our hero has slipped into the Tomb of the Fallen with the heaviest of burdens. Each step of the way is a step into death’s shadow. Only one question remains - is one hero enough to banish the gathering darkness, or has the Age of legendary deeds come to an end? As ever, time will tell.
THE TOMB OF THE FALLEN scrolled across Nick’s view. The spawn screen never came. Instead, he found himself standing in a dank, narrow passage with a throng of pixel runners. Forty-nine to be exact.
Everyone had been dropped into the same starting location.
The man next to Nick whimpered in pain, a spear tip protruding from his chest. Nick instinctively raised his reinforced steel buckler as someone swiped at him with a great hammer. The small shield wasn’t sturdy enough to repel the crushing attack, and he took serious damage.
A polearm came crashing down, mere inches from his face. When he was able to move again he was jostled from all sides by panicked pixel runners. The cobble-stoned floor was littered with corpses already.
Nick kept his back to the wall, too disoriented to launch attacks of his own. He locked eyes with KainDestroyer18 through the frantic melee - big mistake. The psychotic barbarian made a bee-line straight for him. All Nick could do was raise his shield as Kain pounded him with an axe rippling with electricity. The nerd in him wanted to know where he’d got it from, but he was harried into a wider chamber where he lost sight of his tormentor.
Pixel runners were engaged in furious combat all around, but Nick wasn’t feeling the adrenalin of battle. Instead he backed into a nook opposite a pair of stone statues. The sculptures were almost eight-foot tall and depicted fearsome warriors of a bygone era.
As Nick contemplated a way through the clamorous melee, a wrenching sound drew his attention. The stone warrior to his right was moving!
It broke free of the mortar holding it to the wall and skewered an unsuspecting pixel runner from behind. Fuck that. Nick ducked under the warrior’s spear and dashed toward the far end of the chamber. A humming axe appeared out of nowhere and cleaved him savagely, sending him to the ground. Half his XP was drained.
“Remember me?” Kain asked belligerently, twirling his huge blade. “Let me put you out of your misery, Nick.”
Nick was struggling to stand. It was all too hard. At this level of competition, the difference between life and death was measured in nanoseconds. He didn’t belong here today - he was fucking useless. Maybe Ern was right - Nick was a loser, a perennial failure. He had a brain but didn’t know how to use it effectively. Was it such a bad thing if Neutron made something productive out of it? He shook his head free of the poisonous thought.
Just as Kain shaped to deliver the killing blow, SavaLynxxx approached with a huge club.
“He’s mine!” Kain snarled, but he was too late. SavaLynxxx landed a clumsy power strike. Even though Nick was far below his best, he was able to roll clear. He was about to stand when the floor gave way beneath him. It might have been the concussive force of the giant club, or simply a trap. Nick fell over twenty feet, ricocheting off an arched column and landing in knee-deep water.
Foul, syrupy muck filled his nose and mouth, triggering a coughing fit. The fact that he was able to cough suggested he was still alive. Sure enough, there was the merest sliver of HP against his name. Gabriel’s plate armor had saved his life.
Nick’s healing herbs had been damaged by the water. He would need to stumble around this foul place with close to zero HP. All Nick’s weapons and armor had taken a durability hit. According to his inventory, The Ring of the Succubus was no longer usable. He closed the screen in pure frustration.
Cursing the game, he checked his surroundings. He was standing in a vast, watery chamber somewhere underneath the tomb. The expansive location was supported by hundreds of thick stone columns. He could see movement through the hole high above - the pixel runners were still fighting.
It was doubtful that anyone would risk such a long fall, particularly with Nick waiting at the bottom. It looked as though he was on his own. A small part of him, the businesslike part that hadn’t completely closed down, suggested that his dire situation wasn’t all bad. For starters, he’d survived the opening free-for-all. Second, he had separation on his rivals. There was no evidence this route would get him to the Lich Queen’s tomb, but at least he’d be spared the attention of other runners. In theory.
The silvery water was silent and still. Apart from the distant sounds of melee, the place was eerily quiet. Considering his wretched HP, Nick considered ditching his halberd and going for a sword/shield setup.
There were two problems with that. The first was his shield. It had failed him during the melee, where Kain’s weapon had basically ignored it. It was embarrassing for a strength build to be this far into the game and kit up with such a basic shield.
The second issue was Nick’s only one-handed weapon, Stinger. The dagger was a great little weapon but wasn’t a grinding, durable primary blade. All up, sword/shield wasn’t an option. So Nick stuck with the halberd, wielding it defensively as he moved through the murky water. Just one hit from an enemy would be enough to kill him outright. He was a hair’s breadth from being NPC meat for the rest of his miserable life. Even though the stakes couldn’t have been higher, Nick struggled to bring the requisite energy and vigilance to the situation. He’d simply been through too much.
Figuring he would head in the same direction as the other runners, he made for a distant light. He wondered if the place had once been a reservoir for the old desert peoples of Bariz. The artistry of the stone columns was simply breathtaking, but his mind drifted to other matters. Like what he was going to do if he actually managed to survive the day as the Champion of Oakshield Junction.
And yet he knew such speculation was pointless. He was two-handing a polearm in an underground reservoir with zero health. Hardly a workable situation for a strength build.
Still, all he could do was put one foot in front of the other and let his instincts do the rest. The human body was an amazing machine. Ninety percent of him was crippled with the most ferocious grief he had known, or would ever know, but other parts of his system were busily keeping him alive.
One such system alerted him to a ripple in the water ahead. A lank mat of hair appeared above the water - its owner was a scabby, decrepit mer-man. The humanoid creature swung his trident in an overhead smash but Nick was able to side-step just in time. Two standard strikes from his beloved halberd was enough to turn the thing into a corpse. The creature didn’t yield much XP, but it did offer some strange, silvery scales.
Even though he was shield-less, Nick suspected the halberd offered a superior defense-break (DB) rating than most medium-load weapons in Oakshield Junction. When he was finally able to one-hand it, the blood of his enemies would truly flow. He paused - was that the semblance of a plan? Perhaps he wasn’t completely comatose after all. Somewhat reassured that his mind was slowly coming back to life, he pressed on through the darkness. In many ways his near-dead status forced him to be hyper-vigilant.
The light he saw earlier was cold blue brazier flame. The far end of the ancient reservoir was still several minutes away. Plenty of ambush opportunities in the meantime. Nick instinctively headed to the side wall and inched his way forward.
He encountered three more water creatures, but they operated within the
ir own zone and were not able to mob him. He looted scales but he would’ve gladly given them all up for a single healing herb. It was nerve-shredding to be walking such a tightrope, knowing that one mistake would cost him everything.
Nick’s progress was therefore slow and painful. He would engage, draw an attack, step back, move in for the kill. Fighting with a halberd added extra tension because you just never knew when you’d bite the ground by mistake. In most RPGs, halberdiers were severely punished for missing.
By the time Nick made it to the far end of the reservoir he felt like taking a nap. The crushing grief over his father’s passing had become a little less overpowering - more like a cold ball in his chest. He was happy to keep it there for now. The next two hours were going to critical. Who knew what horrors lay ahead? He needed more XP, plain and simple. Once he was back behind a good shield and one-handed weapon, he’d feel much happier.
A message appeared in his view:
The Spiderling: Mr. Stanners.
Just when he was beginning to feel a little more human. This game seemed intent on dragging him down every time he got to his feet. He chose not to respond - the last thing he felt like doing was trading insults with a sociopathic villain.
The Spiderling: Losing your father like that can’t have been easy. Especially knowing that he died alone. What were you doing at the time?
Nick took a moment to compose himself before he entered the tunnel by the brazier. He couldn’t win against these people. The Neutron Syndicate was effectively admitting to tailing his every move in the outside world. How else did they know about his meeting with Emily? It was sickening to know how far their slimy tentacles had extended into his life. They wanted to get under his skin. Break him. Nick Stanners had been marked for death and they were making sure he knew about it.
How could he possibly fight such all-encompassing power?
The answer came softly, as if it was afraid of being howled down. Nick could win. It was the only outcome that could possibly preserve his life.
Viewership. Only three days ago Nick was happy to play the villain, making plain his disrespect for the millions of Oakshield viewers.
But now that he was literally fighting for his life, he saw those viewers in a different light. He’d begun Oakshield Junction full of aggression and arrogance, earning himself plenty of Hate points in the bargain. But now that he was being hammered left and right, the Love points were beginning to flow.
At first Nick couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing, but all those points were sitting against the red arrow. He realized at that moment that people loved an underdog, someone they could root for. Neutron’s growing antipathy toward him was matched by public goodwill. He didn’t need to play the villain - he just needed to do what he did best. Play the game. With tears in his eyes he realized his father had been right all along.
It was time to move. Nick passed down the tunnel and dispatched several giant rats. Some of the vermin burst through holes in the walls, threatening to flank him. Nick remained vigilant, using his halberd’s reach to smite the critters before they could get to him. By the time he reached the end of the tunnel he’d quietly amassed enough XP to level up.
Another point to STR. His stats were so imbalanced he had to laugh. Only clueless noobs with small penises ever tried this kind of build and thought they could get away with it. For Nick to do it in a worldwide Nex cast was insane. Still, only two more levels to go before the Halberd of the Moon became a one-handed weapon.
The room ahead was pitch black. Nick edged ahead with his heart hammering in his mouth. His HP was still only 25% and he desperately needed healing. He hugged the right wall and continued until he came full circle. No apparent exit. He crept to the middle of the room, wondering if there was a pit or a trap door. Nothing.
To backtrack all the way to the reservoir might have killed off his willpower for good. Just as he was wondering what to do, he realized that a huge, reptilian snout was protruding through one of the walls. He raised his halberd to strike but since the crocodile didn’t flinch, he wondered if the thing was a merchant. Incredibly, it was.
“Greetings, young master,” it rasped. “I don’t get many visitors these days.”
“Do you have healing herbs?” Nick asked eagerly.
“I’ve never heard of those,” came the reply. “But I do have some healing crystals. Lifted them from an unfortunate mage a few weeks ago. Oh, and barter only please. Crowns are meaningless down here.”
Nick accessed the shop screen and hoovered up every crystal in the beast’s inventory - six in total. They were ridiculously expensive. He didn’t have much in the way of smaller items, so he was forced to sell the Royal Greatsword he lifted from King Jannibar and the Great Axe he’d looted from a cave in Bariz.
The merchant needed to redress the balance. Nick selected a bag of 25 ambra seeds, which granted poison reversal, and a Zestus ring, which helped restore stamina. The ring, in particular, seemed an astute purchase, considering his stamina was so negatively affected by the Rags of the Lich Queen.
The final ledger was still in the merchant’s favor, but only by 37 crowns, so Nick closed the deal. The only weapons in the crocodile’s inventory were base long swords and axes. It was tempting to buy one of those so he could use his shield, but in reality the Tomb of the Fallen was too formidable to be risking base weapons. A base axe / steel buckler combo was a poor setup in such an advanced area.
Healing up have never felt so good. Each crystal provided 25% of his current HP, so Nick used three of them. He equipped the Zestus Ring in the first ring slot, replacing the useless Ring of the Succubus.
With his health restored, Nick almost felt like he was set to face the day’s many challenges. He was still hurting on many levels, but there were signs that his mind was ready to focus on the task at hand - survival.
The great crocodile edged toward him, a frightening sight in the darkness. Nick took a step back, ready for any eventuality. But the creature just wanted to talk.
“That was good business,” it said in its impossibly deep rasp. “Will you engage my inventory for one more transaction?”
Nick hesitated. In the end he trusted his instincts - they rarely let him down. Not in game worlds at least.
The reptile’s previous inventory had disappeared. All that remained was a simple chainlink necklace. It was rather ugly and from what Nick could tell, conferred no bonuses. He transferred it anyway, hoping he wasn’t signing his own death warrant. Besides, it was free.
“By the way, watch out for Sasha,” the crocodile said as it retreated back into the wall. “That thing has collected too many scalps over the years.”
Nick nodded, but first he had to find a way out. The crocodile had withdrawn completely and would be no help.
There must be a way through the room. The game designers surely wouldn’t include such a long, redundant tunnel. Figuring he had nothing left to lose, Nick equipped the plain necklace. His stats didn’t change at all, and he was about to remove it in disgust when he noticed luminescent writing on the blank east wall:
YOU ARE NOT ALONE - GIDEON
Nick didn’t know what to make of that. Was this a sick joke? He wouldn’t put anything past the spiteful minds of Neutron Syndicate. Whatever the case, it was something he needed to shelve for now. He needed to press deeper into the Tomb. For all he knew he was disconnected from the main crypt.
Removing the necklace provided the answer. A tunnel was now visible where the writing had been. It was blessedly short, terminating at a ladder that ran upwards. There was little choice but to take it - at least he didn’t have to double-back to the reservoir.
Nick climbed into silent, frigid darkness for several minutes. At the top of the ladder he clambered into a passage illuminated by cold flame. A vast improvement on the last two hours. The passage ran north-south and the pixel runner elected to head north. It seemed to continue in the direction he’d already been heading.
After several
minutes of walking Nick began to feel anxious. He hadn’t encountered an enemy for a while and there was no indication he was within the Tomb itself. The passage opened out into a cavern. Unfortunately the light died here, and he was again forced to step into the unknown. Normally he would’ve hugged a side wall, but they had retreated behind a veil of mist.
It was a lair of trickery. As Nick progressed further, he came across stalagmites that vanished as he approached. Tantalizing wooden chests that vaporized when he got within a few yards. Skeletal enemies that shot out from the gloom, axe raised, before disintegrating into dust.
“Face me!” Nick shouted to the gloom, tired of the games. It seemed to him that if Neutron did want him dead, here was the place to do it. They could control Nick’s environment. All it would take was a loose stone slab or hastily added trap and he was meat for the slaughterhouse.
Then again, they couldn’t make it too obvious. Oakshield Junction viewers were a discerning bunch, many of them hardcore gamers - if Nick was going to die randomly, it needed to be look like his own mistake.
The cloying mist and illusory surfaces vanished completely, leaving Nick in pitch darkness once again. It was frighteningly surreal walking across a smooth, flat surface that he couldn’t see. A silvery orb of light appeared in the distance, the only feature in the nerve-shredding darkscape.
Nick headed straight for it, figuring it could at least guide his way. It slowly resolved itself into a cube-shaped room with one open side. Every surface was completely reflective, like a mirror.
The Spiderling: Hmmm, yes. I see you are gaining strength. Your will to live is impressive. I do worry, though, that your colleagues are up in the Tomb, where they should be, while you’re stuck down there in the dark … was this how your father felt when he died?
Nick told himself to ignore the Spiderling’s taunts, but he had to admit they were hitting the target. Normally he was immune to trash-talking gamers, but today he was vulnerable. He felt like wearing that plain necklace just to see the words YOU ARE NOT ALONE again, because in this netherworld it was easy to feel crushingly alone.
Strength Build: A LitRPG Saga (The Complete Strength Build Cycle) Page 15
