by Michael Ryan
They moved fast and reached a small outcropping of rocks on the edge of a meadow. A soldier behind a tree fired arrows towards the tanks.
Name: Hidden
Declanian Soldier: Zuharah Level 5
Current Attack Style: Ranged DPS
Weapons: Longbow
Magic: Imbued Arrows
Tech: Medium chainmail armor
Dale scanned the field attempting to locate the other enemy soldiers. He counted nine, but he had no idea if that was all of them. All nine fired arrows, the majority imbued with magic. To get more information he’d need to move closer, or launch an attack.
Smith and Dyfrig had decided to attack. Dale and Galina used the diversion to fire their own arrows. After launching several they exchanged their bows for swords and shields, and moved into the meadow to directly engage the enemy.
As a general rule, a soldier firing arrows at another soldier with a strong shield usually had one shot before they had to switch to a close-range weapon. Otherwise the swordsman would have the opportunity to cut them down. Both soldiers that Dale and Galina charged had each fired one arrow, and replaced their bows with swords and shields.
It would be an even match.
Dale approached the enemy soldier with an aggressive posture. He didn’t want to die, but he didn’t intend to play it safe, either. He’d already suffered enough, and this Declanian could do nothing worse to him than what he’d already been through.
He brought his sword down, his shield up, and plowed straight at the soldier, bowling him over with the unexpected brute force assault.
The enemy tried to recover, but it was too late. Dale’s rage and fearlessness had resulted in a brutal combination.
Most sword fights depicted in movies were bullshit. On a real battlefield a sword fight was usually over in fractions of a minute. One slight advantage, and it was done.
The difference between fighting sentient beings and the NPCs was obvious: monsters didn’t think. Mobs and bosses fought like programmed chess pieces, whereas a sentient being worried about death and excruciating pain.
Dale spun and finished the enemy, removing his head with an arcing slice, his sword crunching through muscles, tendons, and bone.
+400XP
Killed: Declan Faction Humant
Through the soldier’s helmet, he saw that it was a young woman. Her face was pretty, but her neck was open to the world, bloody and raw, oozing blood. Her dark brown eyes were frozen open, like a doll, lifeless but still glistening. She had short black hair, light almond skin, and appeared to be Asian. Dale was reminded of Amy. His guts twisted and he fell to his knees.
He vomited.
Dale emptied his stomach, turned his head, and realized another body lay nearby. Galina had received a fatal blow. Her killer stood above her, a large opponent with a battle axe. He gripped a short dagger in his left hand, which he used to slice open Galina’s top.
Dale, still on his knees, watched the Declanian soldier grope Galina’s corpse. His blood boiled with sudden rage. The enemy morphed from a giant ape form into a humant avatar with a leer on its face.
Name: Randy ‘Ace’ Whiteman
Dale had never fought a Sagittalian in actual combat. He’d gained experience sparring with Smith, but without support, he had a huge disadvantage fighting one-on-one with a tanking beast, especially a brutal one.
The soldier dragged Galina’s body away from Dale, who apparently presented no concern to him.
Ërin: Dale, snap out of it.
Dale: I know, I’m sorry.
Don’t apologize. Fight.
Dale scanned the entries on Randy’s pop-up, and saw Princess Rohini’s message. His heart rate surged and his mind cleared. He raced towards the meadow’s edge, where the bastard had Galina’s body, tugging it along like a child dragging a rag doll.
Dale screamed, but the soldier ignored him.
As Dale approached with his sword above his head, the tall avatar dropped Galina and switched to his professional avatar – a Sagittalian, a gorilla-man, a brutal ape beast. Unlike Smith, his scarred face looked evil. He bared long, yellow fangs.
Dale dodged his battle axe.
His opponent over-swung, considering him an easy target. When he missed he lost his balance, and tripped over the dead Russian’s body.
Dale slammed his sword down on the ape’s back, opening flesh and cracking ribs.
He screamed in pain, rolled over, and brought up a shield to block Dale’s next blow.
Dale adjusted his position, swung beneath the shield, and severed the ape’s left arm at the elbow.
The Sagittalian flung his shield, growled at Dale, and returned to his humant form, exposing blood, muscle, and bone from a human arm.
Dale struck again. The soldier rolled slightly, and the blade sliced his ribs in a glancing blow, ripping flesh, but not fatal. Dale realized he was hurting a real person in this attack, a rapist and an animal, but still a living being. Ace wasn’t a mob beast, and his avatar was connected to a sentient being who felt everything.
Death in the virtual world would lead to respawning, but it was still a painful, brutal, and inhuman process.
The Nagant War had finally come to Dale.
He glanced at Galina—his comrade, friend, and a kind and considerate woman who actually talked to Sanjay like he had the same value as everyone else in the platoon.
Her body seemed to call out to him for revenge.
“You cowardly piece of shit,” the soldier said, spitting blood. “End me like a man, you pussy—fucker—piece-of-shit.”
Ping!
You’ve been tagged by Randy ‘Ace’ Whiteman.
Dale’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Kill me good, fucker,” Ace snarled. “Because when I find you again, I’m going to kill you real slow… But not until one of the faggots in my platoon fucks you so hard you’ll be begging for a knife to the throat.”
Pure rage short-circuited Dale’s brain, and after a final glance at Galina’s naked and bloody humiliation, he swung his sword.
And again.
Over and over he chopped.
Ace stopped screaming after the fourth blow, but Dale continued to brutalize his corpse.
Blood flew like a lawn sprinkler of gore. Bones cracked, intestines spilled, and still Dale swung.
The corpse became a ragged, bloody, unrecognizable mess.
Dale stopped when his hand could no longer hold the sword. He fell to his knees and retched again, like a sick dog, but his stomach was empty.
He dry-heaved until his abdomen hurt so bad he could barely move. After a long moment he stood and stumbled back to the clearing. He fell face forward onto the grass and burst into tears.
When he regained control of his emotions, he rolled over, looked into the sky, and spied a bird overhead.
Another bird followed the first. Then clouds floated into view, pushed along randomly by the wind.
Dale watched them drift across the turquoise wash. His awareness drifted away, as if he was one of the clouds, and he fell into a deep sleep.
“Dale, get up.”
He didn’t recognize the voice.
Dale found himself on his back, looking up at the billowing clouds.
Was it going to rain?
Why am I sleeping in a grassy field?
“Dale, get up. You’re in charge.”
He sat up, and found himself looking at Naphil and Rikuto.
Rikuto had always seemed loyal and straightforward, and had accomplished his duties with professionalism.
Rikuto cast an enchantment over Dale which restored his health.
“What do you mean I’m in charge?” Dale asked. He stood and transformed into his humant avatar.
“Sergeant Dyfrig…”
“Shit.”
“We have to move out of this field. We are too exposed here.”
Dale walked with him towards the forest. “Who else?” he asked.
“Besides, Galina… Sanjay
. I’m sorry. I know you were close.”
Dale had nothing left inside to feel, so he put the thought of Sanjay out of his mind.
He told himself it was just a game – nothing was real.
Rikuto followed Dale into the forest, where the foliage provided enough cover to hide them. They waited for the remainder of the platoon.
Yingtai, all business, approached Dale.
“I know you’re in charge,” she began. “But I suggest we move out quickly, and head towards Evelake. We interrogated one of the Declanians… The village is under five kilometers to the north-west. That’s the best way to get onto the trail of the princess.”
“Okay. Give me a minute,” Dale said. “She’s been killed, at least once—”
“And you know this—”
He interrupted Yingtai. “Because.”
She glared at him.
“Everyone refresh yourselves,” Dale ordered. “Eat and drink. We aren’t going anywhere for a few—”
“Dale, we—” Yingtai sounded angry.
Dale interrupted her again. “No we don’t.”
“He’s right,” Rikuto said. “We need to rest and refresh and think clearly before we rush off. Nothing will change by resting and reflecting for a time.”
“Who put you in charge of anything?” Yingtai snapped. Contempt dripped from her words and her face distorted when she talked to him.
“Fucking vampiric racist,” Rikuto said, and unsheathed a samurai sword.
Yingtai, the Mugron, wasn’t about to be intimidated. “I’ll take your blood, manuke devil!”
“Bitch.” Rikuto held up his sword. “I’ll cut you like you cut Amy. Dale will piss on your rotten corpse.”
Yingtai drew her sword, but Dale stepped between them.
“Enough,” he said. “We have plenty of things that want to kill us. We don’t need to kill each other.”
“He’s right. Back off,” Smith said. “Both to you.” He raised his war hammer. Smith made it clear with his body language that he was prepared to defend Dale’s authority.
Yingtai and Rikuto lowered their weapons and walked away from each other.
“Dale, sorry,” Smith said. “We really should move soon. We have no idea what else is coming.”
“I know. Five minutes.” He took a drink of water and then closed his eyes and lowered himself to the ground. “Sergeant Dyfrig and Sanjay. Were they fighting together as tanks? Or one-on-one?”
“As tanks, I think,” Smith answered. “I don’t know. Things got out of hand. I’m not sure what happened to our strongest healers. I mean, I don’t want to accuse anyone…”
“Hell,” Dale said.
He kept his eyes closed and considered their situation. The platoon was down to five. One wasn’t even in the military.
Dale didn’t trust Yingtai, but his feelings were biased. He had, for a brief moment, wanted Rikuto to take out the Mugron who’d killed Amy. She’d been so callous about it—telling him to grow up—and that had bothered him a lot that night. Who was she to talk to him like that? He felt hatred and disgust towards her, and wished she had been one of the causalities instead of his friends.
Ërin: Dale, that’s really unlike you.
Dale: Go away.
You’re under a lot of stress.
I said go away.
I can’t.
Then at least shut up.
Yes, love. I’m here if you need me.
Dale stewed. He thought about Sanjay. And Dyfrig… He always seemed to do the right thing—putting the good of the platoon first—even over his own safety.
Well, he’d see them again.
It wasn’t as if death was forever, right? But it did fucking hurt, and it changed you. He wondered if he’d ever see Amy again. Even if he did, would she be the same person?
Ërin: You’re still bothered by the continuity problem?
Quit listening to my thoughts. I said go away.
Is that an order, or just your grief? You might need me, and actually, I can’t leave.
Yeah, stay… Fuck. What’s going on?
I’m sorry, honey. I know this is tough, even though I can’t feel anything. I do see.
I’m not sure you do.
You’re right, but I can be sorry.
How’s that possible?
Hmmm.
Exactly.
Dale considered the platoon’s assets. They had Smith and Rikuto, both good tanks, and Rikuto was good at ranging DPS, and healing, as well.
The two women, the Princess and Yingtai, were both skilled across the board, as well as being the strongest healers. He wished he trusted them more, but what could he do?
“Gather around.” Dale stood and looked at everyone with a grave expression. “I’m in charge now. But I’m not a commander type. I’ll listen to suggestions, but no more infighting. We’re only five, and we need everyone working together.”
“So what’s the plan?” Yingtai asked, barely hiding her condescension.
“We head out to the village. We continue to follow the path, but we sneak.”
“I agree,” Smith said.
“The plan, once we get to the village, is to seek for clues about the princess,” Dale said. “If she passed through someone will remember her. If not, we’ll attempt to uncover information about the mines. We’ll determine the possible routes she may have taken, and pick the best one to follow.” Dale paused, searching his mind for anything else. “We aren’t in the hurry that some of us seem to think we should be. I’m making a command decision. We are going to take the night off and check out the pubs, gambling halls, and maybe the—”
“Dale, I object. You’re not—” Yingtai took an angry step towards him.
Smith’s war hammer flew through the air and crashed in front of her.
“He’s in charge,” Smith said. “I’ll challenge the next person that’s disrespectful of his office.”
“My apologies,” Yingtai said.
She bowed to Smith, but Dale didn’t sense respect; he sensed a cunning that gave him a chill.
Amy and Emi moved swiftly through the forest.
They were less than a day behind, but they could travel faster than a platoon. Amy hoped that Dale was still alive and with Princess Jara. She wanted to explain things to him. She believed an explanation would change how he felt, but regardless, her mission was to assassinate the princess. The Jewel of Sartozel was the priority, and stopping Jara would keep Princess Talargo safe. Well, safer. Nobody was truly safe.
“Should we rest here?” Emi asked.
“As good a place as any.” Amy dismounted and walked to a stream, drank, and received a boost to her mana regeneration. “It’s a healing pool,” she said.
Emi sipped from the pool, and then sat with Amy. “It’s pretty here,” she said.
“Yeah,” Amy said. “Until a giant centipede eats us.”
“Don’t be so cynical,” Emi said.
“You’re right.” Amy played with a twig, distracted.
“You miss him.” Emi didn’t say it as a question.
“I guess,” Amy said, and changed into her personal avatar.
She wasn’t in the mood to discuss Dale, but if she was going to do so, she’d rather not be a wolf creature. Amy felt more like herself in her personal avatar, but her emotions were still clouded with vulnerability and melancholy. She looked at Emi, who was in her demon form, an Asakku. Powerful, dangerous, and mysterious. “Why’d you choose Asakku?” she asked.
Emi changed to her humant avatar.
She was a plain Japanese girl, neither pretty nor homely, and her disposition towards Amy had been withdrawn.
“All my life I’ve been made to feel inferior,” she said. “I mean as a girl. A girl from a middle-class family. There are no heroic characters in my family. I grew up watching anime and American films about superheroes. It’s kind of funny. On the one hand, I was always told how great I was for being Japanese, but also how second class I was for being a woman fro
m a boring family from the country.”
Emi lay down in the grass next to Amy. It was the closest they’d ever been.
Amy looked at her. “You’re pretty, you know?”
“No, I’m not,” Emi said. “You’re gorgeous, and you’re only trying to make me feel better. Thank you, but I know my place.” Emi smiled at her awkwardly.
“That’s why you choose to play a demon and an assassin?” Amy asked. “So you could hide?”
Emi avoided the question, and instead asked one herself. “Why did you become a Sidheagin? A monstrous wolf? A devouring killer and an assassin?”
“It’s what I like,” Amy said. “Sneaking around, killing people. It’s the alternative universe me. Sometimes I feel guilty that I’ve killed so many characters in my life.” She ran her fingers through her hair, then put her head next to Emi, craving human contact.
“They aren’t real,” Emi said.
“I know, but the power I feel, it’s real. Right?”
“I suppose. I don’t know.” Emi stroked Amy’s hair. “I wish I was confident like you.”
“You are. I’ve seen you sneak into a fortress and kill—”
“I don’t mean—”
“Oh. Guys.” Amy rolled over onto her side and looked into Emi’s eyes. “I just pretend,” she said.
“It works,” Emi said, “Dale is…”
“He probably hates me.” Amy put her head on Emi’s chest and cried.
“I think he’ll understand,” Emi said, and pulled Amy towards her mouth. She looked into her eyes and kissed her on the cheek. “You’ll see. How could he not forgive that pretty face?”
“I don’t know,” Amy said. “We should go.” She stood, returned to her Sidheagin avatar, and summoned her mount.
They left peace and safety, entered the dark forest, and rode towards danger and the unknown.
An hour later, Emi held up her hand in a fist.
“What?” Amy asked in a whisper.
“Troops.”
They dismounted, snuck to a spot behind dense brush, and observed.
“A lot of troops,” Emi said.
“We’ll rest here then,” Amy said. “For the day, if we have to. We can’t risk capture. We’ll make up time by riding in the night.”
“You take the first watch, okay?”
“Of course,” Amy said. “Get some sleep. I think the village is close. My maps are crude, but it can’t be too far. A few hours’ ride, maybe half a day, at most.”
