by Arthur Stone
The first few hours were rather unremarkable. Ros mined for amethysts, killed mobs, collected loot, and made caches out of useless trophies. He came across an enhanced level twenty bracelet. As he kept throwing his pike at the victims of the leprus, they would wound him a few times before the pet managed to grab them in his choking embrace. This allowed him to raise his Accuracy and Stamina by a point each.
Then he heard water running somewhere ahead. The creek was by no means silent—it murmured as it twisted this way and that, but the rumbling he heard was produced by something much more powerful. And it wasn’t long before he saw what it was.
Three caves converged in a single spot, a fairly wide creek flowing out of each. Together they formed a river that was around thirty feet wide in the narrowest spot. It hit a rocky protrusion that blocked its way, making the roaring sound that he had been hearing. Grumbling its offense, the river ran past the rock and carried its waters forward, then disappeared behind a bend.
Ros noticed many skeletons of different creatures on the rock. He already knew that the carcass of a monster decomposed in a couple of days, emitting virtually no unpleasant smell, and leaving nothing but bones. This was clearly the site of somebody’s successful hunt. But whose?
The leprus emitted a visceral growl without taking its eyes off the river. A creature that Ros had mistook for one of the rocks was fast approaching. Once it realized it was discovered, it reared on its hind paws and roared menacingly.
“Freshwater Omrus. Aggression: high. Sociality: high. Level: hidden. Skills: hidden. Stats: hidden.”
“Hold it!” Ros commanded the excited leprus. “Let him come out—I don’t want to wade in the water to get his entrails.”
The omrus looked like a walrus with short limbs instead of flippers. It also behaved strangely, heading straight for Ros and ignoring the leprus completely.
“Strangle!”
The pet ran into some problems—the neck of the omrus was thicker than its head and well-protected by a layer of fat, so the leprus could not strangle it. Moreover, the slippery body kept trying to wriggle out of the grip and lunge at Ros. The “walrus” scowled menacingly, demonstrating a row of fangs that were as thin and hollow as syringe needles.
Ros noticed two more omruses emerge from the river.
“Gorgeous! Stop! Hit them! No more strangling!”
Splatters of blood and shreds of flesh started to fly in every direction—the omruses had no protection against powerful blows. But more and more beasts kept coming out to help them, and the leprus simply couldn’t handle all of them at once.
Ros realized he had created the aforementioned “train” of monsters. The prudent option now would be to retreat, but he refused to surrender, so he started kiting the omruses, who were slow on dry land, shouting commands all the while.
“Achievement completed: Giant Slayer, Part Two. Achievement bonus: +1 to Resilience, +1 to Attack, and +1 to Disguise. Bonus effect: permanent. Achievement unlocked: Giant Exterminator, Part Two. Kill 100 monsters whose level exceeds yours by forty or more without any help to complete the achievement. Achievement bonus: random.”
“Come on, Gorgeous! Come on!!! I believe in you!”
One of the omruses fell into a rage at the nimble quarry and threw a rock at Ros, but it was easy enough to evade. He kept running around the battlefield in circles until the beasts finally realized they were getting slaughtered by the leprus while chasing the illusive human, and instantly switched to attacking the pet. The leprus’ health bar flickered and started to shrink, albeit slowly—a first since they started hunting together. Ros braked, cast a healing spell on the pet, and shouted:
“Stun!”
The twenty-odd omruses froze in place as the wave of sparks washed over them. They would remain immobile for a few seconds. The leprus also had a Panic skill that would make foes drop whatever they were doing and scatter for a short time, but that would be his last resort in case the pet took serious damage.
Ros cast another heal, restoring the pet’s health bar, then threw his pike at one of the omruses, crouched, and started pelting them with rocks. The beasts fell one by one, unable to withstand the crushing blows of the leprus’ paws and the vise grip of his jaws. The pet was losing hit points, but at a very slow rate, and Ros virtually didn’t have to distract himself with healing.
He approached the fight when there were only four wounded mobs left standing, running circles around them and striking them in the back with his pickaxe. He could no longer heal, having run completely out of mana. He couldn’t cast so much as a Soul Trap.
And then there were none left standing. The battle was over, ending in an incredible victory for Ros. He received a ton of experience he could do nothing about on account of his level lock, as well as…
“Your Strength grows by 1. Current value: 19. Your Agility grows by 1. Current value: 31. Your Intellect grows by 1. Current value: 7. Your Mental Power grows by 1. Current value: 2. Your Accuracy grows by 1. Current value: 3. Your Speed grows by one. Current value: 5.”
This was something to celebrate! A single battle had boosted his stats by a total of six points, with Speed and Mental Power growing for the first time. His Strength was at nineteen now. He needed just a little bit more to get it up to twenty, which was the minimum value he had decided on.
If he carried on like this, he’d leave the mine as a rather advanced noob indeed.
Having been unable to strangle the creatures, the leprus had made quite a mess of them instead. Ros barely managed to collect any loot at all, and the lootable trophies were severely damaged. A tattered cloak, a smashed silver diadem, and similar junk that would only be good for making new caches.
The bones scattered across the rocky protrusion looked unusual—he could see that even from a distance. Ros took the trouble to cross the river, barely managing to stay on his feet in the strong current, but it turned out to be worth it. Apart from the remains of well-familiar creatures, he saw a few he had never seen before; strangest of all was the fact that there were two distinctly human skeletons among the bones.
The omruses must have devoured everyone who would come to the river confluence—that much was clear. But where had the human bones come from? Were they players? But players left no skeletons. At least, the level zeroes didn’t—their bodies simply disappeared where they fell nearly instantly and without a trace. Could these be high-level players? He had no idea how those died—he hadn’t gotten to witness it during the assault on the settlement.
Ros searched the rock thoroughly, and was soon rewarded for his diligence with a short rusty sword, an axe with a rotten handle, and an amulet from one of the skeletons’ neck. It had no bonuses, but was interesting nonetheless.
“Badge of the Cartographer Enuis Chittarius. Submit this badge to the Cartographers’ Guild in any city.”
Yeah, right. He’d drop everything and rush to deliver the badge. Although he wasn’t going to dispose of it, either—the description was interesting enough, and he might get some reward for it.
Apart from the useless amulet, the skeleton carried a tiny pouch. There was just one slot in it, and it contained a notebook in a hard leather binding reinforced by metal bands. When Ros opened it, he saw penciled sketches of some kind of terrain.
As he leafed through the notebook, he realized that he was holding a map of the caves and open terrain.
Curious, he decided he’d study the object sometime while restoring his Vigor. It might turn out to be useful.
* * *
Ros found another pack of omruses in about an hour and a half. There were fewer of them this time, but the battle was still far from easy. One even managed to swipe the pesky human, causing a bleeding that he had to treat as he ran, pressing down on the wound with his hand. After the battle, Ros raised his Stamina, Intellect, and Speed. Apart from that, something unexpected happened.
“Your pet learns a new skill: Vampirism. He can now steal some hit points from its victim with a bite an
d use them to replenish his own health.”
Ros remembered that a rrokh’s pet had a two percent chance of learning one of its victims’ skills. But since that hadn’t happened at all previously, he had begun to suspect an error in the description of racial bonuses. Now, however, he was quite happy to have been proven wrong.
Apparently, these “walruses” also drank blood? That must be why some of them restored their hit points so quickly during a battle. It was a good thing they never got to sink their teeth into Ros. Doubly so that the leprus could now heal himself at his victims’ expense. Just how effective was this new skill? That remained to be seen.
Ros wanted to keep on going, but he restrained himself. He would also need to get back, checking the side tunnels for pters. Shoto was due to get back the next day, and he’d need more meat.
Chapter 21
“Hey, Shoto! Help me out!” shouted Ros merrily as he spotted the orc by the empty cart from a distance.
“I’ve been here for almost an hour! I thought they have finally gobbled you up!”
“They’d sooner choke on me. Sorry, I haven’t been outside in a while, and the clock in my head is a bit off.”
“You might want to. It’s nice outside—the sun is shining, the birds are singing…”
“I have no time for that. It takes almost half an hour from here to the crater, and then back again; it also earns me nothing.”
“That sure is true.”
“I have brought you eleven pters. Will that be enough?”
“Sure. You haven’t seen any red demons, have you?”
“Nope—I’ve only ever seen one. What about them? Good meat?”
“It’s not that. I have checked on the forum, and turns out this beastie is super rare. And alchemists always need its meat for some foul stuff they brew for necromancers and summoner mages. I must tell you that I got more for its meat than I did for everything else put together: seven hundred forty five coins. I could have gotten more, but time was of the essence.”
“Are you telling me you scored nearly two hundred bucks for the meat of a mob, and one whose level wasn’t even that high?”
“I’m telling you exactly that—they’re rare, and the demand is high. Should you see another, don’t let it get away. The eye sold for ninety coins, and the tail for two hundred and seventy.”
“Who the hell would need a tail?”
“It contains a special kind of gristle used for making bowstring for expensive bows. So you got around one thousand one hundred silver pieces for the demon, all in all.”
“Well, I’ll be…”
“Yeah, I nearly fell on my ass when I found out, too.”
“What about the bag?”
“Well, you told me to get the best I could for as much money as I’d make, with at least eighty slots and as much weight reduction as possible, right?”
“Right.”
“So here’s the deal—all your money, after paying off the guards and the coachman, amounted to seventeen hundred fourteen silver pieces and a few coppers. I couldn’t get a better deal—I was in a hurry, and there was my own business to take care of as well. So you have lost a substantial amount. Now, I have found a real cool bag for you, but it’s not in the best condition. Don’t mind that, though—it will last you three or four months if you’re careful, and with the kind of money you’re making, you’ll be able to afford a better one much sooner than that.”
“Small Trader’s Bag, one hundred slots, weight reduced by 1.25. Weight: 0.89 kg. Durability: 28/80. Bonus: does not drown, requires no washing or cleaning, food and beverages spoil eleven times slower. Requirements: none.”
“Does this mean that if I put in forty kilos’ worth of loot, it will only become thirty kilos heavier?”
“That’s right. So, what do you think?”
“It’s a cool one indeed.”
“You haven’t seen the real cool ones yet. There are bags that reduce the weight of their load by half or even more. Also, trader bags wear out at a faster rate. Otherwise it would have cost a lot more. Be careful with it. There’s some meat inside, as well as a pickaxe.”
“A pickaxe?”
“There were no better bag options, so I ended up with some money left, and the Guild building was right in the vicinity, so I visited the quartermaster. Get a load of this.”
“Enchanted Simple Miner’s Pickaxe, made of quality steel. Tool and crushing weapon. Damage: 7-8. Tool bonus: 14-16 to damage to rock. Enchantment effect: +1 to Strength. Requirements: level one. Weight: 2.98 kg. Durability: 44/110.”
“This one isn’t in its best condition, either, but it will also last you a while. You’ll harvest ore about three times faster. So, what do you think? Good enough?”
“Totally. It was an excellent idea to get it.”
“There are also health and mana elixirs in the bag, ten vials each. For noobs, but they’re much better than meat or the crap sold by Greedie. You may find them useful on one of your hunts if you find yourself in a tight spot.”
“Thanks a lot—I forgot to ask you to get some. Well, I didn’t think there’d be any money left, actually.”
“Oh, but there is—seventy silver pieces and some small change. All yours.”
“Did you manage to take care of your own affairs?”
“Sure did. Got me a frying pan and some oil. Some miscellaneous stuff for different purposes, too. I’ll sort you for some better meat tomorrow, and sell some more to those who are better off. Although the term ‘better off’ doesn’t mean much here—we’re all paupers, given our wages.”
“So why did you come here, then? Weren’t there any better mines?”
“Leveling is more important to me than work—my character’s progress is a priority over money. I unlock every skill I can and raise it as much as possible. For example, I managed to level up my Cooking skill decently enough with your help, so I’m doing all right in that respect.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to remove the lock?”
“It wouldn’t. I’m blind, and I intend to get married, so I can barely scrape up enough money for the cheapest account.”
“Blind?!”
“Well, I’m blind IRL—I can see just fine here. Blind people have a clan of their own here in Rallia—The Seeing. Ever heard of them?”
“I haven’t.”
“They have enough money, and they get up to all kinds of serious stuff. They only accept blind folks, but not everyone. You must prove you aren’t just some vegetable living off benefits, but actually possess skills of some sort. I want to join them. I’ve got it all planned out: I’ll spend three months working on a level zero character, and then submit my app to join them. What’s good about this mine is that the Swords don’t care whether you screw around or work like a mule. If you join a serious mine, you need to work daily, and you aren’t allowed to divert any of that time to leveling your character. I’d rather make sure my character has decent stats, then splurge on removing the lock and level to ten over the course of a month. I’ll end up with decent crafting abilities and fairly advanced branches of every skill I can lay my hands on. Stat variety is a valuable quality. So, that’s my short-term goal. There are many folks like me here, by the way.”
“Blind, you mean?”
“No, folks with similar purposes. Ever heard anything about accounts becoming cheaper?”
“Can’t say that I have.”
“The rumors have been circulating for a while—they just charge us too much down here. The Chinese pay four times less, and nearly half of them reside here on a near-permanent basis. They’ll soon take us over at this rate. Look, why don’t you come to the crater later tonight? I’ll give you some fresh meat from the new frying pan. It’ll be the bomb, trust me. You could adjust your mental clock while you’re at it, too.”
“I might just do that. Give me about four hours?”
“Sure, I’ll have everything ready by then.”
* * *
Ros felt nostalgic. He h
ad come here a very short time ago, a naïve and wet-behind-the-ears fledgling who couldn’t even ask the right kind of questions. And now he was heading for the exit paying no attention to the rats dashing this way and that across the galleries, and not even feeling tempted to sully his pickaxe by the noobish copper ore. He’d raised his Mining & Quarrying stat to five on amethysts—from here on copper wouldn’t give him any tangible progress. Ore could be sold for money, but he had already realized money wasn’t the most important thing here.
Self-improvement was paramount—and the key to everything else one might want in this world.
For the first time since he’d found himself sitting on the cobblestones of a medieval town, Ros felt more or less secure about his future. He was beginning to adapt to this world.
Sure, many things were still unclear to him, but that didn’t matter. After all, there were many things he couldn’t understand in real life, too, and it hardly made his life any worse. Apart from that, everything in this world appeared to be digitized, so if you were strong, that manifested in specific stats. Which made it easier to understand what was what.
They hadn’t invented a scale for intelligence, though. Local stats such as Intellect had very little to do with it.
