Diary of an 8-Bit Warrior: From Seeds to Swords (Book 2 8-Bit Warrior series): An Unofficial Minecraft Adventure

by Cube Kid

  Then . . . In the street just outside the blacksmith . . . I ran into Pebble. He eyed me, eyed my sword, then smirked and stepped closer.

  “I see you’ve brought me a gift.”

  “Don’t even try it,” I said, raising the blade for the first time. “This thing’s enchanted with Bane of Noobs V and Wuss Slaying VII.”

  He put his hands in the air and backed up slowly.

  “Oh, dear! No! Please!” He dropped to one knee and clasped his hands together. “Please spare a humble noob such as myself!” Two of his friends came around the corner then, glanced at us, and snickered. Then the three of them took off.

  Sigh. I’d been trying to avoid him, but I guess that’s impossible now. At least he didn’t dunk me in the well again. I should be thankful for that. He did that yesterday, but I didn’t put it into my diary. It was just too humiliating. I wish there was a Bane of Noobs enchantment, though.

  Pebble would have been totally

  shaking in his boots.

  This morning, Brio and company showed up at school. They set up an office on the second floor. And the whole day, they observed everyone. They also randomly searched through kids’ inventories in the hallways and dug through our school chests . . .

  It was eerie. You couldn’t go anywhere without being watched, without being searched, followed, or endlessly questioned.

  Then, during Intro to Combat, a few of those black-robed guys stepped in. They made us run in place for a long time and shouted in our faces while we did it. A guy in black was yelling at Stump so loud that spit was flying from his mouth. Poor Stump was moving as fast as he could, arms swinging, knees moving up and down like pistons, with the most scared yet serious look upon his face.

  (I refer to them as “guys in black” because I really don’t know who they are. They’re elders, certainly, but I don’t know any of their names. The only thing I do know about them is that they’re not complete noobs like Urf.)

  Annoyingly, Pebble and Emerald seemed immune to their harassment. Neither of them have received a question, an inventory search, or even an angry look.

  I want out.

  Lightning, please strike me and turn me into a witch.

  Or an enderpumpkin.

  Or a creeperman.

  I don’t even know what a creeperman is or what a creeperman’s life would be like, but I don’t care. I’ll take it. Anything is better than this.

  If my life hit bedrock yesterday, then today, it somehow broke through that bedrock and vanished deep down into the void.

  Today, they assigned every student to a “combat unit.” Should the mobs attack again, we must stay with the other members of our unit and follow Drill’s orders. Sounds good, right? Yeah. Here are the other three members of my unit:

  It’s almost like the mayor spent a whole night calculating how to annoy me the most.

  Emerald didn’t seem too happy about it, either.

  “You can’t do this,” she said to Drill.

  When the teacher chuckled but said nothing, she continued:

  “Hey! I refuse to group up with them. Especially him. The weirdest stuff always happens to him! He’s like a lightning rod for trouble! A magnet for craziness!”

  She was referring to me, obviously. (Do I really get into that much trouble? It’s not like I ever asked for it. Stuff happens, you know?) Besides, I didn’t do anything crazy during the battle on Saturday. I stuck with my friends. Protected them. Even resisted the urge to follow Brio. Emerald’s silvery voice tore me from my thoughts.

  “How about that creepy girl? What are you thinking putting the two of them together? And don’t get me started on Urf. He’s totally—”

  She fell silent when Brio walked up.

  “There is a reason for everything,” he said. “Trust me.”

  The “war heroine” lowered her head, fists clenched—but she waited for Brio to take off before letting out a big sigh.

  Hurrrmm.

  This is gonna be fun.

  I’m stuck with Weirdostalkergirl, The Great Bearded Noob, and Princess Hissyfit McCrybaby. Good thing I like a challenge, eh? Stump arguably has it worse, however. He’s grouped with Bumbi, who is currently the lowest-level student in the whole school. Apparently, he still has a combat score of 1. How is that even possible? A door has more than that.

  Anyway, I’ll be okay. Tomorrow, there’s no school and no chance of another attack. I mean, the mobs attacked last Saturday, right? The mobs would never attack on another Saturday because that would be too predictable. Yeah. I’m totally safe. Tomorrow, I’m going fishing. And I’m getting some ice cream. And I’m hanging out with my friends.

  Tomorrow will be

  absolutely, positively

  cool and okay.

  “YOU’RE FACING THE WRONG WAY YOU SU——”

  BOOM

  An explosion drowned out whatever insult Drill was about to hurl. Beyond him, the streets might have passed for one of the nicer parts of the Nether.

  As Emerald said when we first arrived,

  “You know, this would make a good ad for promoting those village building codes.”

  Fires were blazing, the ground was occasionally trembling, and the smoke, drifting across the ground on its little gray feet, made it impossible to see just how many mobs there were out there. A lot, I guessed.

  “FIRE!!”

  Arrows flew from rooftops in endless streams, vanishing into the gray mist. Earlier, we’d cut down almost every tree in the park to make a countless number of shafts. Those who were the best shots with a bow had been put into the same unit. Minutes ago, they’d been sent to the tops of houses. It was nice having archers.

  Our unit was assigned to the ground to fight the enemy with swords, and with so many arrows flying, we didn’t have to do that much. The sheer number of arrows the archers sent out caught the mobs by surprise. Some sections of wall could barely be seen due to the amount of arrows sticking in them.

  It was intense.

  Then, like the last battle, the mobs started to run. Ridiculously, a zombie broke out into a really funny dance before it took off.

  “GET!! THAT!! ZOMBIE!!”

  At Drill’s command, over one hundred screaming villagers charged forward . . . along with Steve, Mike, and my two best friends. At last, the archers jumped down and followed at a safe distance.

  But my unit wouldn’t be joining them. We were on guard duty. Our job was to protect the school, just in case the mobs pulled any tricks.

  We had to prevent any creeper from getting within five blocks. Drill turned to us. Surprisingly, he didn’t shout or even raise his voice:

  “Remain near the school until further notice.”

  I nodded. Then Breeze nodded. Then Emerald nodded. But Urf was nowhere nearby. He was walking down the road, trying to sneak away.

  “And where might you be going?” Drill called out.

  The elder slowly turned around.

  “Well, uh, you know, I just thought I might, um, go check on something—”

  The current combat teacher smiled, beckoning him closer with a finger.

  Urf finally nodded—but glumly, glumly. Then he trudged back into the blazing street.

  “Now,” said Drill, “if you guys get into any trouble, just set these off.” He handed Emerald some blue fireworks along with a flint and steel. “And don’t leave the school.” With that, he sprinted off through the smoke, which was only swirling at knee level now. The four of us silently watched him go.

  In the distance, an occasional explosion or shout could be heard.

  We were alone.

  I wanted to be out there, of course, next to my friends, but we had to obey our orders.

  There were no mobs here, and it seemed like there never would be, but maybe Drill was rig
ht.

  I sighed and glanced behind me,

  at the school.

  The sounds of combat faded. And then—

  To the right, distant footsteps could be heard.

  It was more like scraping, shuffling.

  Zombies.

  “I heard that!” Urf jerked his head every which way. There was another scraping sound. Then the elder made the same ridiculous creeper face, the same pigman grunt.

  “Mobs! They’re around the corner! I heard them!”

  “Will you shut up,” I hissed.

  The school was across the square, which meant that if we ran there now, the mobs would surely see us. So I motioned for everyone to hide. All four of us crept into the alley to the right. Urf latched on to Emerald, trembling.

  “Don’t let them get me!”

  “Go away!” She pushed him back and glared at him. “Dude, you’re such a—”

  Just then, several zombies walked into view and stopped in front of the fountain. Their deep, guttural voices drifted through the air. They were speaking in the ancient tongue.

  It took me a moment to realize what one of them was holding.

  Emerald drew her sword.

  “I call dibs on Explody there.”

  “He’s mine.”

  With a loud scream, I charged, sword held in both hands. I don’t know why I was being so reckless. Just . . . when I saw that zombie holding a block of TNT, something snapped inside of me.

  I mean, who did they think they were? They were zombies.

  They were supposed to moan. Burn in the sun.

  Get confused by improperly set doors.

  My sword sliced through the air. However . . . after connecting with its target, it was as if the blade had struck cobblestone instead of rotten flesh. The zombie didn’t moan, stumble back, or even flinch—instead, it punched me so hard I flew five blocks backward and landed on my back. Despite my armor, the attack reduced my life by four hearts. That was a huge amount of damage from a single attack. Yet it couldn’t match the amount of pain I felt.

  Ten blocks to my right, Emerald had skidded to a halt and was now slowly backpedaling into the ruined street. Urf, of course, had already fled the scene. I thought I was a goner. Then Breeze yanked me to my feet.

  Silly girl . . . What is she doing?

  We just stood there, while more zombies trickled in from every direction.

  Within moments, at least ten had surrounded us.

  We were cut off. We couldn’t run.

  Yet . . . they didn’t close in. Instead, several of them laughed, chests heaving, heads raised back, faces somehow jovial. Their deep laughter echoed across the square.

  That was when I noticed the swirls emanating from their bodies.

  Red swirls.

  That meant the zombies were under the effect of strength potions—maybe Strength III, considering how much damage I had taken from one punch. There were faint gray swirls, too, although I had no idea what kind of effect they signified.

  After another round of laughter, the zombies moved in, one step at a time, impossibly slow, as if they were trying to draw this moment out and prolong our suffering.

  Then a zombie began speaking, its voice screechy yet deep. It was gibberish, unintelligible, the language of enchanting tables and wizards long since forgotten. Still, even though I couldn’t understand the words, I knew what was being said: We were doomed. There was no way out of this.

  There was just no way.

  Then, behind me, ringing out above the zombie’s frightening speech, was a metallic cling.

  Breeze.

  It was the first time she’d drawn her sword in battle. When I glanced behind me, I noticed she wasn’t trembling like before. On the contrary—she stood perfectly still. It was as if she had suddenly grown stronger while I had grown weak.

  I found her courage inspiring, yet it ultimately wouldn’t matter. The zombies were impossibly strong, impossibly resilient.

  She’s fighting even though there’s no way we can win.

  And I ignored her this whole time . . .

  “Run,” I said. “I’ll distract them, huh? Just run.”

  I . . . don’t know what happened. There’s . . . really no way to explain it. In less than ten seconds, piles of dust were scattered everywhere . . . I stood there for a long time, my mind a malfunctioning redstone machine. A light breeze scattered the dust.

  Breeze was staring at the ground, her expression dark.

  “You can’t tell anyone.”

  “So . . . you’ve been hiding yourself?”

  No response.

  She turned away.

  I studied her for a moment—then, after realizing she wasn’t going to talk anymore, I surveyed the destruction in her wake. Tons of items lay within the zombie’s remains. Armor, swords. Bows. Arrows. Flint and steel. Tools of all kinds and a great deal of potions. Even a bone. Those zombies were really packing. Especially the zombie Emerald had dubbed “Explody.” TNT had spilled out everywhere after Breeze took him out. Had we not been sent here on guard duty, the school would be ten times worse than that street over there.

  Good job, Drill. When this is all over, I’m gonna buy you a pie.

  I picked up all the items, wondering how many emeralds I could get for all of it.

  Speaking of emeralds, Emerald eventually came back with two iron golems. Not a bad idea. She met the square with wide eyes.

  “What happened?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  Then, the ground trembled. Again, deep laughter boomed in the distance—but this time,

  it wasn’t from any zombie.

  To the south, down another ruined street, perhaps a little more than fifty blocks away, stood the legend himself: Urkk Doomwhip.

  Two creepers slithered around at his feet, like baby chickens in comparison. (Important note: One of them was glowing a brilliant shade of blue.)

  Needless to say, Emerald did more backpedaling.

  “Wow,” she said. “They really, really want the school. I say we compromise. We could let them take out the combat yard. Then we’d all shake hands and call it a day. I mean, they’d be doing us a favor anyway, y’know?”

  The two iron golems charged. Breeze sagged her shoulders and followed them in. Emerald and I ran after her.

  “Wait!” I called out. “He’s gonna—”

  Yeah. He’s gonna do that.

  Even though I’d already read about Urkk’s ability to throw other mobs, it still came as a shock, seeing that creeper fly, its sad little face growing bigger and bigger . . .

  We had to take cover. Snark’s Tavern was the closest place.

  There used to be a sign here that said something about Steve owing Snark sixty-seven emeralds. I guess he lost a bet during an iron golem race.

  We burst through the door.

  What a cozy little place. Stump and I often went to Snark’s when we were kids. The tea is pretty good. Sadly, there was no time for tea now. On the plus side, we were safe.

  Snark said his tavern is the only original building still standing after the creeper rush of 1511. Little did I know, Breeze, Emerald, and I were nothing more than the Three Little Pigs, with the incoming charged creeper as the Big Bad Wolf.

  And Snark’s Tavern?

  Just so much straw.

  I guess Snark failed to mention that the only other homes around in 1511 were made of dirt and/or grass.

  When the smoke cleared, I spotted several iron ingots down in the crater. The remains of the iron golems. They must have taken a direct hit. Poor things.

  (There was also some leather armor, which I can only guess was from a zombie that tried running after us.)

  After glancing at the crater, Breeze left the b
uilding without a word. She ran so fast I couldn’t keep up. Then she jumped—a height of five blocks, impossible—and struck Urkk square in the face. From what I’d read, Urkk had an incredible amount of life, yet her attack not only forced him back, but shattered his black helmet as well.

  However . . . When she landed, the pigman sent out his chained hook. I only had time to see Urkk’s hook snag Breeze and pull her within arm’s reach . . . Then he smashed her with one of his huge, block-sized fists, like an iron golem hitting a baby rabbit. Breeze went flying. Somewhere over a house. She vanished beyond the roof.

  She’s okay, I thought. For all I know, she probably has more life than Urkk does.

  Emerald glanced at the smoldering crater, at the melted remains of the iron golems, at the sky where Breeze had flown, and at the enormous zombie pigman with glowing red eyes and a crazy-looking fishing rod who’d just thrown a creeper roughly twenty-five blocks.

  There was a brief silence as she reflected upon the situation, then:

  “That’s it. I’m outta here.”

  After she took off, I did some glancing around, too. A little glance here, a little glance there. Real innocent. Casual. Unfortunately, Urkk was glancing, too. At me.

  Hurrrmm . . .

  This is baddd.

  For a second, I actually took out my shovel.

  Okay, think. What did Max say about Urkk’s fear of heights? Something about a height of five blocks? But it’s all stone down here.

  Just my luck! I have no time to dig a pit wide and deep enough to scare him. I’d need an enchanted diamond pickaxe.