by Arthur Stone
The envoys of the Supreme Council of the Locked Lands got to the capital the day before yesterdays. Two days later, an advanced player or a group of those managed to find their way here and discover the entrance to a crater with an extensive network of halls at the bottom filled with high-level golems.
It could be a simple cartographer roaming a formerly locked terrain frantically and trying to compile the first map of the area that could be sold for a decent amount of money. Or someone interested in unknown lands decided to study the strange crater.
Or a party of warriors sent to get Ros.
The location was perfect. The leveling-up was great, the loot was good, and there were plenty of mineral resources of different levels. Ros and his companions benefited tremendously from being here, but all good things come to an end.
Tangh got it immediately and said,
"Let's get going. It's time."
"There's a whole day of leveling-up left. And we've paid for it," said Danger Babe plaintively.
"Forget about it," Ros waved his hand. "It wasn't that much money. Besides, the next time that greedy dwarf will remember that they got paid for a day of doing nothing, and he might be more pliable."
"Well, that makes sense," Danger Babe nodded. "I'm already sick of these creaky old golems. They're boring as hell."
"I'm sick of them too," Thyri agreed. "My bow is virtually of no use here."
"I'm sending the mercenaries home, and then we march toward the cave on the double," declared Ros. "But we still need to finish off the last golems."
They still had time. No matter how quick the party that may have come here to find Ros would be, they would still have to cross a few dozen halls connected with entangled corridors. Even if they took the correct turn every time, there were still about ten minutes left or more.
But that wasn't much, so they'd have to hurry.
It didn't take them long. It didn't take them too long to say their goodbyes to the mercenaries either, and the eight NPCs disappeared in the portal opened by Ros.
However, the characters controlled by players remained. They had a way of surprising their pursuit—the secret dungeon discovered by Tangh and Danger Babe as they explored the Rock Gardens for the first time. They could level up a bit more there—Ros was still at 123, his diligent attempts at leveling up notwithstanding. Others were in a slightly better situation—they were at a hundred to begin with.
But they wouldn't be able to get any further until the level of so much as a single player in the party is below the requirements of the quest.
* * *
"Attention! Heroes, you have found a Second World wormhole. It is one of the many places where the forces of Chaos resident in the First World have found a way through. This dungeon is their rightful domain. Heroes, should you enter it, the door leading back to your own world will close. It will only open in the event of your demise, or if all the creatures of Chaos that guard their territory perish. The forces of Chaos won't think twice about sending reinforcements after the final guardian falls, so you shouldn't linger too long after your victory. Attention! Once you cross the threshold that leads to the domain of Chaos, the passage will close within a minute. No further entry will be possible, and the only ways out will be teleport scrolls, special skills, or rebirth at a bind point. The exit will also open if you defeat the army of Chaos. Attention! You will not be able to bind anywhere on Chaos-controlled territory! Attention! If you enter the domain of Chaos, you will receive the title of Wormhole Pathbreakers. The Wormhole Pathbreakers are rewarded with a higher chance of receiving valuable items during the first exploration run. Attention! The territory that lies beyond the veil of mist is dangerous and controlled by the forces of Chaos. We strongly recommend to explore it with a group of strong allies. Recommended level of allies: 130 or higher. Recommended number of allies: eight or more."
"Tangh is at 130. I'm at 129, and you, Ros, are at a measly 123," Danger Babe said, calculating. "We're not strong enough."
"On the other hand, Thyri is at 194," said Ros.
"Well, that's the reason the dungeon level is higher—it reacts to the average value, after all. And she's gonna cripple the mobs, so we'll get fewer trophies."
"Well, the level gap between her and them will only amount to a third. Also, her Strength and Attack don't allow her to deal any serious damage unless it's a critical hit. Also, I'm a really lucky guy. Basically, we just need enough space in our bags to grab everything. Anyway, Danger Babe, why would you grumble? We have already discussed it many times and come to an agreement."
"I'm shutting up already. Sorry, Thyri. I'm just nervous. I've never been in a dungeon like this before."
"All right, let's get going. We can't stay here forever, after all."
"Attention! The dungeon has been locked! You can no longer receive reinforcements! Attention! You receive the title of a 2x Chaos Source Pathbreaker. Title bonus: +2 to Cartography, +2 to Perception. When you join a guild, a party, or a raid group, all the members of the respective guild, party, or raid group receive half the bonus for the duration of your stay. Attention! Achievement completed: 2x Chaos Source Pathbreaker. Achievement bonus: +1 to Perception, +1 to Arcane Knowledge, +1 to Essence of Things, +1 to Speed, +1 to Luck. Bonus effect: permanent. Achievement unlocked: 3x Chaos Source Pathbreaker. Discover another Chaos Source to complete the achievement. Bonus: 6 points to random secondary stats, 2 points to random auxiliary stats."
"Hey! I received a reward! And it's not too shabby at all! Hooray!" Danger Babe looked overjoyed.
Tangh peered into the depths of the corridor that led into darkness and shook his head.
"I'm afraid I'll have to be a bit of a wet blanket."
"Like, how?!"
"It will take a few days to clear this dungeon."
"So what about it?"
"Well, the main item on the menu is our favorite—golems. And some of us appear to be sick of them already. We have entered their lair, and they will defend it. That is to say, the local golems will be aggressive. And they'll have a lot more HP that the ones we hunted in the Gardens."
"Oh, no!" Thyri and Danger Babe exclaimed in unison.
* * *
Lebdeon was the military leader of the Drunken Monkeys guild. He was the one responsible for the training of the best warriors from what was a major Eastern Sector clan. He was obviously chagrined about the fact that the clan management decided to use their well-honed skills in a venture that was doomed from the start.
Yet the management opined differently. After all, the laws of the Second World were simple and unbreakable. Since the departure of the gods, there was no one and nothing that would be impervious to destruction. Even the strongest creatures were mortal. All one needed was a party capable of handling them.
There were bosses that could not even be defeated by concerted efforts of thousands of players—their levels were simply insufficient. But there would be hundreds of players leveling upwards of 300 at some point. Then they could get back to those monsters and get their revenge. In the meantime, they could put a hundred characters out of commission with a single attack.
And yet there was nothing mysterious about those bosses. Although no one had managed to kill them yet, all the players who took part in such battles saw their HP bars flicker and shrink.
But Lebdeon's warriors were sent to fight an enemy that was unlike all the others. There were many attempts to kill it with all kinds of parties and methods, cunning schemes as well as brute force. Yet no one has ever seen its red bar blink once.
None of the attempts resulted in the loss of so much as a single hit point.
All battles against the terrifying and invincible Bug, or Smiley Face, as he was also known, followed a simple, yet very dramatic pattern. First the mob would be attacked by a party of players, who would then get stunned by a mass control effect that could not be escaped. Then he would devour each and every one of them, joking and bantering all the time. This would be accompanied by the c
runching of bones, sounds of munching, and complaints about the toughness of the meat (or, on the contrary, praises to its outstanding gastronomic qualities).
The players devoured alive had to listen to it until the very moment of death, and they were looking forward to it by the time the monster started chewing them. There was absolutely no way of stopping this—the accursed paralysis spell wouldn't let you move so much as a finger. And players who had ended up in the maw of the permanently ravenous Bug would often get mental issues IRL afterwards. There were even cases of suits filed against a corporation that allowed its customers to be treated in such a horrendous manner.
It was the Drunken Monkeys' turn today. The council of the clan leaders did not heed Lebdeon's warnings. The prize glimmering at the horizon that would never be reached just looked to enticing. Any guild to become the first to defeat such a monster in the history of the Second World would become famous for ages to come. Even if they only managed to take some HP off Smiley Face, no matter how little, it would still be an unprecedented achievement.
Every guild needed publicity. And they were prepared to go to all kinds of lengths to get it. After all, publicity meant access to new sources of income in the game, as well as ability to recruit new players—newbies showing promise as well as experienced players.
And now publicity demanded that Lebdeon's best fighters should let themselves be eaten alive at the quiet edge of a spectacular wood.
He did not see any alternative—Smiley Face was invincible, after all.
But the leaders were of a different opinion. Take Dreaming Herb, for example—the very first player in the history of Second World to level up to 300. He was also the first to get to 301, and 302 couldn't be all that far behind. There was even a saying, "A herb might sleep and dream, but not Dreaming Herb." He hardly ever logged off. Lebdeon had good reasons to believe he would run into serious problems IRL because of that any day now. That often happened to players who liked to overstep themselves.
Dreaming Herb flatly refused to participate in today's hunt. He was terrified at the prospect at losing so much as a fraction of a percent of his precious XP, so he declined to lose any in a battle with an opponent that could not be defeated by definition. He didn't care one whit about the honor of the Drunken Monkeys. He was a loner and an egotist, and only needed the guild for the bonuses he could get from it.
On the other hand, the guild also took advantage of his achievements, so it was to everybody's benefit. No one would kick out a player like that just because his own private interests went against the decision of the leaders' council.
The scout on the wyvern descended and shouted,
"It's approaching. Get ready!"
Lebdeon sighed. At his level, any loss of experience is rather uncomfortable, and the warriors wouldn't be happy, either. Some might revolt and decide to leave the clan altogether. That would weaken the Drunken Monkeys. But he couldn't go against the council's decision.
The only way of leaving a battle with the Bug alive and not via its digestive tract was to fight the mob one on one. Sometimes it would spare such fighters and let them go without eating them. But that wasn't the case today. 365 of the guild's best fighters had gathered at the edge of the woods. And further back there was a complex system of ravines hiding several other large parties ready to launch a flank attack any moment.
He could only hope that the reserves would be prudent enough to stay hidden once the vanguard became Bug's meal.
The trees ahead started to crack under someone's heavy footsteps. The fighters tensed, their hands clenching mind-bogglingly valuable weapons procured from the strongest bosses or Imperial treasuries, or created by Second World's finest craftsmen. If one sold all those swords, staffs, bows, warhammers, and so on, one could buy a cruise ship.
With all the equipment, there might be enough money for an aircraft carrier.
The noise was getting louder. Lebdeon could see the shaking treetops already. Some foreign object flashed among the leaves. And again.
"Archers! Get ready!" barked Lebdeon.
The best archers released around a hundred and fifty arrows. Should one of them get lucky and manage to lay a paralysis effect on the Bug, the monster would freeze for three or four seconds.
However, no one's had such luck in the entire history of Second World, and that was the reason for Lebdeon's skepticism.
A tall tree fell with a loud crack, the tall bushes parted, and an unnaturally thin leg stepped out, followed by another. They supported a ridiculous body—a perfect sphere of bright yellow some eighteen feet in diameter. Some daubster designed it with a thin dark mouth, a nose that looked like a vertical stroke of the pen, and two dots for eyes, assuming that would be enough.
And it was, come to think of it. The Bug bore a great physical resemblance to a graphical object used to express a wide range of emotions from mild amusement to wild mirth. The so-called smiley face emoticon.
That was why the most horrendous monster in the Second World was known as Smiley Face,
an immortal creature, impervious to damage, always ravenous, and feeding on nothing but fresh meat.
Or even live meat.
The Bug's face formed a genuine smile, and there was warmth in his eyes. He could have been the paragon of a canonical smiley face emoticon expressing joy and pleasure.
"Now then, isn't this nice. I was just passing by, thinking of what I could nibble on. The forest looks dead. I'm not fond of such boring forests. On the other hand, I'm really fond of meat. Fresh meat in particular."
"Fire at will!" shouted Lebdeon, interrupting the monster.
A hundred and fifty arrows made the front side of Smiley Face look like a pincushion. Its HP bar never flickered once, and it didn't look remotely paralyzed. The Bug yawned widely and asked lazily,
"Hey, little worms! Can you tell me if any of you have any unpleasant diseases? I'd hate to catch an infection from my lunch."
"Mages! Fire!" roared Lebdeon desperately, but no new attack followed.
Bug's enormous bulk flashed yellow, and his yell froze in his throat. The fighters froze, as if thunderstruck, and none of them could move so much as a finger anymore.
"That's right, little worms. I prefer it when you stand still. I'm getting tired of all that tickling," said Bug in a preachy voice. I get scratchy after meeting the likes of you, and I'm not too fond of that. All right, meat, you don't mind if I have a snack, do you?
Lebdeon was certain that everybody present really minded, but the paralysis wouldn't wear off, so they could not express their disagreement.
Smiley Face produced a clean white napkin out of thin air and started to wrap it around himself with his two grotesquely thin arms, whistling some unsophisticated melody all the while. Once he was done, he rolled towards Lebdeon, who was standing in front, and asked politely,
"Funny little worm, you have no major objections to becoming the hors d'oeuvre, do you now?"
Lebdeon had plenty of objections. Objections of the highest order. But all he could do was wish for the yellow monster to choke on his body.
Chapter 21
"Attention! You kill the Walking Rock of Petrified Chaos—a golem who arrived from the dark abyss of the Chaos universe! You are the first to defeat this incarnation of Chaos! You receive a bonus: +2 to Attack, +6 to Defense, +2 to Luck, +2 to Arcane Knowledge. When you join a guild, a party, or a raid group, all the members of the respective guild, party, or raid group receive half the bonus. The bonus is permanent or lasts until you refuse the title. You gain a level. Points left until the next level: 1321844."
Ros put away his staff and reported, looking pleased,
"There we go. I'm at 130 now. We're done here."
"You could have gotten there a long time ago if you didn't die around five times a day," noted Danger Babe in an I-told-you-so tone.
"Oh, sweetest princess, but I died in your defense every time!" exclaimed Ros theatrically. Then he added pragmatically, "Have some respect. It i
s the lot of a DPS player to die in such raids."
"But nothing has changed about the quest," said Thyri in a plaintive and puzzled voice.
"Attention! Every member of your party has a level of 130 or more. The party contains four members, all of whom have accepted the quest: Prevent a Gross Violation of Rule 4.2.1. You can now proceed to the next stage of the quest. Yes/No."
"Choose 'Yes'," said Ros.
"Like we need you to tell us," said Danger Babe gruffly.
"Attention! You are entering the next stage of the quest: Prevent a Gross Violation of Rule 4.2.1. You must travel to the Crystal Rock Lands. You have received the maps indicating the entrance to the Last Path of the Gods. Reach the end of the dungeon and make the right choice. The higher powers of the Second World have faith in you, great heroes!"
"There aren't any requirements," Tangh noted.
"So much the better," said Ros. "This means we can use teleports and expand our party. Anything that isn't forbidden is allowed. And I don't see that many restrictions—just the minimum number of party members and the level."
"Has anyone ever heard of this location? The Crystal Rock Lands, I mean," asked Danger Babe.
"I have," Thyri replied. "Archers used to go there to complete a class quest for level 150. That was needed to develop the Stun skill. But the quest location was eventually transferred elsewhere."
"So, what kind of a place is it?" Ros asked.
Thyri shrugged.
"Boring. Nothing to do to level up."
"You mean there are no mobs whatsoever?"
"There are a few, but you don't encounter them often. It's boring, I'm telling you. Even miners find it to be of no interest—there isn't any ore. Well, level zero workers can't get in, anyway."
