by Edward Brody
You have reached level 2 in Divine Magic!
I pulled the bronze sabre out of its sheath and held it up in front of me. “Alright, I’ll fight.”
You have accepted duel with: Garrik Oros! Get ready to fight!
Garrik let out a low cackle.
The dark elves that were near Garrik stood up and started spreading out to make room for our duel.
Keysia stepped close to me. “Are you sure?” she asked. “Garrik is a strong fighter.”
“If this is what it takes for me to earn the respect of the dark elves, then I’ll at least try.”
Donovan patted me on the shoulder. “You’re brave, Gunnar. Do your best then.”
Keysia didn’t seem too thrilled about the idea as she and Donovan backed away to join the other elves.
“Let’s not waste any time!” Garrik grunted, and before I could even come up with a game plan, the tall, broad-shouldered elf was rushing towards me.
I squared up for his attack, and when he was close enough to swing at me, I jumped to the left, dodging his blow. He seemed to have roughly the same speed as me, and recovered from the missed strike quickly and turned to swing at my head in the direction that I dodged. I ducked and rolled backwards, missing the second strike.
I held a hand up and shot a Fireblast at the dark elf’s chest, causing him grunt and pat at his chest, trying to clear the away the flames in a disoriented manner.
Was that really all it was going to take?
I rolled jumped forward as Garrik fought with his burns, and slashed him across the chest, causing him to rear back and grunt again. I swung my sword back in the other direction, this time going for his legs, and the bronze from my sabre made a chinking sound as it slammed into Garrik’s shin.
The impact caused Garrik to drop to one knee, and for a moment, I thought that I had a one-sided fight on my hands. But when I swung my sword towards him a third time, he raised his arm to block and took the full brunt of the swing against his forearm. I imagine that the swing would have severed another person’s limb, but Garrik apparently had unusually strong bones—and pain tolerance for that matter.
Time seemed to pause as Garrik looked at me with menacing eyes, his teeth gritting and his lips twisted. I pulled my sword back and shot another Fireblast at him, connecting with his shoulder and causing him to make a slight wince in pain, but no sooner than he winced, he reached out with his injured arm, grabbed my hand, and threw me sideways to the ground.
Have you ever fallen down while holding a sword? It’s not something you think about when you play video games, but it’s an alarming experience in real life. Not only are you trying prevent yourself from taking damage from the fall, but you’re also trying to prevent yourself from falling on the blade or accidently impaling yourself. And when you get thrown, the experience is a hundred times worse.
Thankfully, I didn’t land on my blade and only took 10% damage from the throw.
Garrik stood to his feet, suddenly ignoring the Fireblast that had seemed so effective the first time I had cast it on him. He held out his hands to his side, his free hand in a claw formation and let out a quick growl. A pulse of magic seemed to burst out of him, and suddenly all signs of any old flames had been quashed, and the veins in Garrik’s neck were visibly bulging.
As I picked myself up off the ground, I shot another Fireblast at Garrik, landing it on his other shoulder. His shoulder tilted back from the impact, indicating that he had taken damage, but there was no mark or residual flame from the blast.
He was obviously under the influence of some sort of buff.
I started scrambling backwards when I was on my feet, trying to create some distance between me and the dark elf so I could formulate a new plan of attack. But Garrik hurried towards me, and as soon as I picked up the pace, he made a quick leap at me, swinging his mace in the air.
I barely dodged the attack, but right after he missed the first swing, he swung his mace wide, the small spikes at the end of his weapon piercing deep into the flesh on the side of my shoulder, knocking 25% off my health.
The pain caused me to cry out and jerk away, but Garrik just yanked the mace back and swung in the other direction, this time aiming for my head. I ducked and rolled back, throwing a barely effective Fireblast at his chest.
Wait a minute… my head?! I thought frantically. Why the hell would Garrik be aiming for my head in a friendly duel? Was he trying to end the duel with a single strike, taking no consideration for just how much a blow to my head would hurt? Or how he might even accidentally kill me, even? What an asshole.
I dodged another blow and raised my foot quickly, attempting to get a shocker between Garrik’s legs. If Garrik was willing to crack me in the head with his mace, then I had no issues with using Dirty Fighting against him.
The foot connected, and Garrik groaned, but then his eyes immediately went wide with even more anger. Apparently, whatever status effect he was under even lessened the effects of my dirty blows.
He kicked his boot out hard, connecting with my lower abdomen and causing me to lean over to grab at my stomach. My sword dropped, and he swung a hard backhand at my face, knocking me back and to the ground.
I was down to 35% of my health. That was my cue to activate Boiling Blood.
The pain from Garrik’s blows became a distant memory as soon as I activated Boiling Blood, and no sooner than I cast the spell, I was already dashing forward past Garrik and picking my sabre back off the ground.
It was time for me to finish the duel.
As soon as I had the hilt of my sword in my hands, I hurried towards Garrick and slashed him across the chest. When I swung to attack again, he attempted to block, but I was too fast and connected hard with him again.
You have reached level 6 in Swords!
He swung at me, but I dashed back and easily dodged his much slower mace.
There was just no way he was going to catch me, and when I swung out again, the only thing that was on my mind was how many blows he could take ‘til the fight was obviously over.
But Garrik seemed to ignore the quick slashing of my sword and gripped the hilt of his mace tightly in both hands, slamming it violently at the ground. My blade connected with his arm, but he barely flinched at the attack. When his mace hit the soil below, there was a loud boom, and energy pulsed out from the tip of his weapon.
Things felt like they had been moving in slow motion around me after I activated Boiling Blood, but as soon as Garrik slammed the ground, my speed returned to normal, and in fact, it seemed like I was even slower than before. A small, blinking scale appeared below my stat bars.
Unbalancing Slam: The tremors of a violent slam slow your movements temporarily. Movement speed decreased by 50%. Spell duration: 3 seconds. Source: Garrik Oros
Before I could even process the description of the status effect, Garrik was rushing towards me like a defender looking to sack a quarterback. His shoulder connected with me in the chest, and I was half-pushed and half picked up by his blow, carried several feet until my back slammed into the hard side of one of the dark elves’ shacks. Wood crunched behind my back, and I immediately felt disoriented.
You have lost the duel!
“Enough already!” I heard Donovan shout from somewhere.
I could hear some of the elves clapping, and as I pulled my groggy eyes open, I saw Garrik standing right in front of me. He turned with his mace raised in one hand and a clenched fist in the other.
The dark elves began clapping at our little duel.
I looked up to my health, and I was at 5%. I had definitely lost the fight, which was a big disappointment, but… oh well. I knew it would be a more difficult for me to earn the elves’ respect after the loss, but at least I tried.
I groaned as I started pulling my back off the wood of the shack, and right before I made it to my feet, Garrik spun around quickly and swung his mace hard at my face. The thick, metal spikes, pierced the side of my temple, making a vicious snapping crunc
h, and the sound of him pulling his mace back, dislodging the weapon from my skull, it sounded even more brutal—at least on my end.
There was only a second or two that I was able to make out Garrik’s devilish smile and the look of shock on some of the elves faces.
Apparently, Donovan was right about dark elves not dueling like orcs. They dueled fairly and acted like cheap, murderous assholes as soon as the duels were over. At least the son-of-a-bitch Garrik had.
YOU HAVE DIED
All of your current level’s progression has been reset to 0% and any unused attribute and level points have been lost.
You will respawn at your last bound location in approximately 2:00:00
Take this time to reflect on your choices.
Chapter Thirteen
01/09/0001
When I respawned beside the runestone at the ancient ruins, I coughed a few times. It was my third death since I joined Eden’s Gate, and while I wasn’t as shocked as I had been the first couple times, the traumatic pain and sense of dying was something I was certain I’d never get used to.
I placed a hand to my face to make sure I was really there, and then I rubbed my eyes. Other than a few stars scattered across a black sky and a faint hint of moonlight, it was completely dark. Not as dark as the two hours that I had spent in complete ‘nothingness’, but dark enough that I needed to verify that I wasn’t just imagining things.
I held my palm up, cast Divine Sight, and immediately, the area all around me became as clear as if it were the middle of the day. I could see the remains of a few of the kobolds that we had killed earlier, but there didn’t seem to be any danger around me, thankfully. My bag was empty, and I was down to my boxers.
That fucking elf. I knew there had been a high probability that I would lose the duel, but I hadn’t expected that he would murder me in cold blood right as I was recovering from the beating.
I picked myself up off the ground and started back through the forest with my fists clenched. I had already spent the last two hours trying to figure out how to make my next move. I had considered not putting up a fight and heading straight home. If I sold some of Aaron’s items, I would probably have enough for a set of cheap armor and a low-grade weapon. And If we had to look over our shoulders every day that we stayed in Edgewood, then maybe keeping our news homes wasn’t the best idea anyway. Hell, if Garrik was so willing to kill me, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill Aaron as well.
But that would be weak; I really didn’t like the idea of tucking tail and running, right after we had our first homes built. That was the exact opposite of ‘making Edgewood my bitch’, like I thought I was going to do.
Not yet, I thought. Garrik’s move to kill me was forcing me to play a card that I hadn’t been ready to play up until then. How would the dark elves react when they found out I was a Reborn?
My feet were killing me when I reached the circle of homes surrounding the firepit. I had done my best trying to avoid stepping on anything sharp with my bare feet, but even with Divine Sight, the abundance of rocks and twigs made it impossible.
Usually there were a few elves surrounding the firepit while others were hanging out nearby, growing more and more scattered as we travelled away from the center of the action, but as I approached, I encountered no one outside of the center circle of homes, and through the trees, it seemed as if there were at least a hundred elves all standing around the pit—far more than I had had seen before.
I crouched down into sneak mode and crept closer and closer until I could make out what was going on.
“You dishonor us all!” Donovan shouted. I could only see the top of his head as he stood at the center of the circle of elves. “To kill someone right after winning a duel…It’s—”
“There’s no rules that say I can’t.” The voice sounded like Garrik’s.
I shimmied behind a large nearby tree, and there was enough of an opening between a few elves that I could peer between the blockade of bodies, to the center where the fire was. I was right; it was Garrik and Donovan.
“It wasn’t a duel ‘til death,” Donovan said. Several of the other elves huffed in agreement.
Garrik shrugged. “It had nothing to do with the duel. I killed him once the duel was over.”
“It lacks honor,” Donovan continued. “He was beaten.”
“If I had killed anyone else who entered Edgewood, would you be making such a fuss? This is our home, not the humans’!”
“By the Queen’s order,” Donovan stressed, “this was his home as well.”
“He was our ambassador!” Keysia said from somewhere. I couldn’t see where she was standing, but I was certain that it was her voice.
Garrik laughed. “Just because he was given building rights here doesn’t mean that he belongs. And to think that he wanted to build a path from the Freelands to here—a plot that would have surely got us all killed. You should be thankful that I took it upon myself to rid us of that fool.”
Several of the elves started chattering, but their tone was a positive one, indicating that they agreed. I could see Donovan’s fists clenched, but he didn’t make a move.
“What will you do?” Garrik questioned as he started walking around the circle. “Punish me somehow? We have no leader to make such judgements.” He raised an eyebrow to Donovan and looked him in the eye. “Or do you think you’re the leader now?”
I needed to make a splash if I were to get my point across to the elves. I wasn’t sure if it would be the right move, but if I just waltzed up to them in my boxer shorts and explained that I was a Reborn, then I might look a like a fool. But if I could show them that I wasn’t just some pushover, maybe then I’d gain the respect that I deserved. And I really had the itch to hurt Garrik after what he’d done to me.
There was a fallen log where elves sat near the back of the pack, and lodged into the top of it was a dagger. There were a few crude carvings in the wood, so I suspected someone must have been doodling and left the weapon there. It didn’t look like much, but it was better than nothing.
Garrik paced slowly around the circle and continued his rant about how what he did was the best for his people while everyone sat back and listened. I crept over to the log and lifted the dagger out of it.
You’ve received: Rusty Copper Dagger. 2-6 Attack Damage. Durability: 4/10. Quality: Average. Rarity: Common. Weight: 0.2
I squeezed the hilt of the dagger and got as close as I could to the small opening between the elves without making a disturbance. As Garrick rounded towards the opening and turned his back, I bolted as fast as I could to the center of the scene.
I ducked my head and shoved my way through the small passage, moving so fast that the elves I pushed away didn’t have time to tell what was going on.
“We have his house key. Tomorrow we can go kill the other human and—” Garrik’s eyes went wide and he let out a loud scream as I shoved the copper dagger deep in the center of his spine. There were several shouts from other elves, but before anyone could respond, I pulled the dagger out and jumped up, wrapping my arm around Garrik’s neck, holding the bloody dagger right up to his throat.
“Changeling!” someone shouted. The elves that had weapons drew them and held them out in front of their chests, while the weaker elves took a step back.
“No one move or he dies,” I said as Garrik dropped down to one knee and groaned. I wasn’t sure if I was making an empty threat. I had no way of telling if I could kill the large dark elf with a simple dagger after the strength he exhibited in our duel, nor did I know if anyone cared if I killed him. But I was willing to bet that my backstab had done a considerable amount of damage and that the elves wouldn’t want one of their kin to die, even if he had murdered me in front of them.
“What do you want from us, changeling?” Donovan asked, holding his gauntlet out towards me. He was the most dangerous of the lot. I knew the accuracy that he had with his tiny bolts. If he wanted, he could land one square into my forehead.
“I’m not a changeling,” I said. Garrik squirmed a little under my arm, and I tightened my grip to remind him that I was the one in control. “It’s me, Gunnar.”
The elves started mumbling and looking at each other in confusion.
Donovan shook his head. “Gunnar is dead, and you will be too if you don’t reveal yourself.”
I closed my eyes briefly and cast a Fire Curtain around Garrik and I. As soon as the fire appeared, several of the elves gasped.
I allowed the fire to conceal us for several seconds, and as the flames started dying out around us, I spoke loudly. “Garrik killed me, but I am a Reborn!” I wrangled my elbow around Garrik’s neck to tighten my grip and stuck the point of the blade hard into his neck, almost drawing blood. “You can kill me, but I cannot die.”
“Impossible...” Donovan muttered.
“It’s true,” I explained. “I can tell you how we met, about our time in the mine, and even how I assisted you with trading in Thorpes. I am Gunnar Long, and the Reborns have arrived.”
Donovan turned his head, looking at the other elves as if seeking answers.
“I believe him.” Keysia stepped forward and looked directly at me. “I knew that he was different from the moment he stepped into Edgewood. He’s not a normal human.”
“Drop your weapons,” I said and nodded towards Donovan and the other elves that still had their arms drawn.
After a few seconds, they complied.
I pulled my dagger away from Garrik’s face, and he coughed as he slumped to the ground. It was only then that I realized that the whole front of my body was covered in warm blood, and the wound that I had caused on Garrik’s back was pretty nasty. He must have taken a lot of bleeding damage. “You should take care of him,” I said.
