Devil's Waltz

by Dante Sakurai

  The game of cat and mouse continued verged over two minutes without end, ice coating much of the room, but finally, after the third minute, the thing seemed to deplete of mana. It begged a final time before the inevitable, "Stop!"

  Rowan shrugged, letting the minions win the chase. How dare the game mock what he held close to his heart and soul. The thing’s suffering was very satisfying to watch.

  A Gargoyle lunged—and impaled the thing through the chest. Black blood sprayed the wall. A sickening crack echoed in the room.

  "AHHHHH!" Gabrielle’s horrid scream rang like nothing else, gnawing at Rowan’s ears and chest. He had to bury his pain and remind himself the thing wasn’t her and never would be. It was dead anyway, gone, defeated.

  The corpse rolled to the floor. It began to rapidly age and decay. A disgusting odor fumed, smelled of rotting peaches or bananas with a slight mix of something fouler like months-old sewage. He had to stop breathing. Bile was threatening to come up.

  When it would age no more, it melted into liquid darkness, then collapsed in on itself. A ripple in the air followed by a tear in the dimension sucked the apparition back to whatever sick world it belonged, its final resting place. The rift closed, and a black gem dropped to the ground.

  A dialogue expanded at the center of the room.

  Congratulations! You have completed your first solo dungeon!

  Instant relief consoled Rowan’s unfounded grief. A single euphoric tear fell down his cheek, relieving him of the thing’s mind curse.

  The monstrous thing wasn’t his beautiful Gabrielle. It was just testing him, testing his resolve and nothing else; there wasn’t something to be gained through talk at all. It had no agenda or ulterior motive. He could’ve killed it from the start. He’d wasted so much time with that back and forth talk. It was all a sham! How cruel the gods are!

  Draesear’s phantom laugh pealed in his ears.

  Chapter 16

  No Cops Allowed

  Dark Water Mana Shield: Tier 9

  Shield Points: 38%

  Time was running out, and Gabrielle’s patience for a certain dummy was running very thin in more ways than one. High in the air, just within the wobbling shield’s bounds next to the constructing turrets, she sat on her golden-onyx broom, the shaft pressed tight against her naughty places. And Gabrielle’s naughty places tingled so warmly while a Sun Elf warrior stared up at her from the closest enemy boat. They certainly didn’t make real boys like that. Hehehehe.

  From behind, Ambiguous approached on her Arcane Mana Shard. She glanced at Gabrielle, then to where her eyes were aimed. “Do you know that elf NPC?”

  “Ah… nope.”

  “Then what? He’s not even level 200.”

  Could she keep a little secret? The answer was yes. “He’s pretty hot.” Gabrielle giggled.

  Surprised flicked across Ambiguous’ features. She said after a jiffy, “I guess he’s alright, but he looks like any other elf, and almost everyone has an attractive character in this world. It’s like living in a movie.”

  A good comparison, Gabrielle allowed. Very good, actually. All the boys had chiseled, sharp faces and toned bodies without big flaws unlike in real life. Tall too. Her body heated at the thought. “I wouldn’t mind taking him for a night or ten though.” As the sentence left her lips, a pebble-sized spot of regret knocked on her tummy. Oh well.

  Ambiguous’ gray eyes skipped to her, frowning. “You’re not getting enough? I thought Rowan took you as his sex slave.”

  “Yup. He did.”

  “You’re that insatiable? What’s gotten into you?” Her tone was very judgmental. Bad Ambiguous.

  Gabrielle evaluated her next words for a prolonged moment. It was important to not let anyone, including Ambiguous, gain any damning information on either her or Row. But it didn’t seem like this had much to do with anything, really. “He just hasn’t fucked me once yet.”

  Ambiguous coughed violently. “What?! Because you two haven’t had a chance? Or…”

  Hmmmm. “He’s had like five or six chances now. Maybe more.”

  “Then what’s his problem? Is he defective down there?”

  Face inflating, Gabrielle zipped over and yanked on her cheek with a tight pinch. “Don’t ya say that! You’ll jinx it and it’ll turn out to be true!”

  She laughed weakly. “Okay. I won’t say it, but I find this very hard to believe, for a guy to take a sex slave and not go through with it. He doesn’t seem like the shy type either. Something has to be wrong. Maybe your petite character isn’t what he usually goes after.”

  Gabrielle’s teeth gritted. The cripple sure liked to talk crap sometimes. “And maybe your taller, super-fit character is too manly for the boys. And why are we even talkin’ about this? We’re not in highschool! My town is in trouble! How’s that Divine Intervention coming along? Hmm?”

  She chuckled. “Half-way prepped. SoSo and Edward are helping construct the shrine at the moment. Have you sorted out the sacrifices?”

  “Aren’t we just using them?”

  A head shake. “Forgot to mention Divine Interventions got patched. Adventurer and Blessed sacrifices now count for much less. We need to use some of the Dark Humans.”

  Every last drop of self restraint was needed for Gabrielle to stop her hand from slapping the taller girl back and forth repeatedly. How could anyone forget to mention something so important? This was the price Gabrielle paid for letting Ambiguous have the Divine Intervention scroll drop back in early Beta. What a nuisance.

  But whatever… This could still be twisted into a roundabout kind of advantage. The children—and adults to an extent—needed a good lesson on how to summon the hate within, because being hateful awarded one with a small invisible damage bonus to dark attacks. Small advantages were the difference between victory and humiliation a lot of the time. Like during yesterday’s battle.

  Whistling a jazz tune, Gabrielle patted Ambiguous on the arm. “Don’t worry! I’ve already got it sorted out. I always do.”

  “Of course. I know.”

  “Mmhm.”

  And that was the end of that annoying talk.

  Or not. “What if Rowan already has a another girl? Like a curvy elf NPC.”

  Gabrielle breathed through a sigh. Ambiguous sure liked being bitchy and extra sticky. Gabrielle could just curse her into oblivion, but then it’d be all lonely up here again overseeing construction. If only SoSo and Edward had flying mounts. “Nope. He hasn’t had the chance. I’ve been keeping a close eye on him.” Closer than Ambiguous would ever imagine.

  “Maybe he’s holding out for one. They’re extremely popular among guys, remember? The AI controller had to make more just for them, and make them sluttier.” One of Aeon Chronicle’s dark secrets.

  “Ambiguous… don’t make me curse ya.”

  She held up her palms. “Hey, I’m just saying. Your character’s not that hot, and those elves are very, very—”

  “Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.” Gabrielle’s mind brushed against the hundreds of links to Rowan’s minions. One little tug was all it would take, and it was extremely tempting to tug on all those strings asking to be tugged, waiting. Still, Gabrielle ate a breath of mist and said in a sweet voice, “I’ll tell ya what I think. I think he’s just being a dummy again and bottling up all his lusts for my very, very, very attractive petite body for whatever dumb reason only he understands. Kay?”

  After an elongated jiffy of eye-contact, Ambiguous said, “Well. Then it’s lucky for him that you’re his sex slave.”

  Gabrielle smiled dangerously. “Why?” Just one little tug and the Chaos Mystic would be shredded by ice.

  “Because if you weren’t, and if you weren’t a darkie, you might have to log out and report him to Synaptic when that bottle pops.”

  Hehehehehe. “Ya got that right.”

  Ambiguous smirked. “Does he know where you live in real life?”

  “Maybe.” Much, much more than maybe. He was living in the next room
down the hall! Gabrielle’s innards swirled with tingly giddiness. “Don’t worry about lil’ ol’ me. I’ve got the cops on speed dial if needed.” The cops which the order had complete power over, not the regular old cops.

  That sleek, overly-trimmed eyebrow arched. “You’d call the cops on our Necromancer World Boss? I’m sorry, but my future mansions are at stake. I’d probably be able to sell them on the real money markets for a good price too—if we make more darkies.” She was from a poor background and too uptight for charity.

  “Heeey.” Gabrielle pouted. “My dark continent is at stake too.”

  Ambiguous shot her a meaningful look—no cops allowed. “That’s reassuring.”

  And that was the end of that weird conversation. Those boys made life so complicated sometimes, especially her Row.

  Gabrielle rubbed her side and flew past the arc of turrets being constructed on the shallow patch of water near the reef filled with pretty corals and fish. Salty sea air jetted up her nostrils as she flew, refreshing as the real world seas. Beneath her, several groups of Worker Dolls were constructing the turrets, and a group to the right informed her through their links that the first had finished construction seconds earlier. They began rapidly swimming back to shore for building materials, already on the job for the next. If only she had more minion slots like Rowan’s character.

  But she couldn’t be all powerful. That’d make the game far too broken, and she did genuinely want the game to be successful and super-popular. One couldn’t have it both ways.

  The single completed turret glowed with a dark-blue hue, blinking to life as its gem brain awoke. It sought out the closest enemy ship—and unleashed a mighty blast of corrupting, repugnant water that’d send even the nastiest of Goblins running off to a bathtub. All was proceeding well.

  Time to check on the Dark Humans.

  Except Rowan’s party icon recolored. He was back. He won the duel. Took long enough, however many hours overdue.

  Gabrielle rolled her eyes and heaved on her broom, tripling back to the spire at top speed. She didn’t grasp why her own mushy brain was so excited to see him again, only that it was and that perhaps whatever it was trying to do was far too irrational for itself and the rest of her body. Oh well. Rowan was in her and the order’s possession. He couldn’t turn on her without facing dire punishment… or worse. Worse couldn’t be allowed.

  “Heya, Row!” she chirped happily and landed next to him. “So ya finally won…”

  In a thudding heartbeat, he appeared in front of her in a pretty icy pattern and took the side of her face with his smooth but calloused palm and fingers, pressed her body up against his. “Gabrielle, it’s really you,” he breathed like a starving boy.

  “Ah… Yup! Who else could it be? Certainly not some ugly elf NPC.” She shrugged, beaming, scribbling down a note in her Social interface to take out those skimpy elf girls she’d spotted on those boats before Rowan could eye em up.

  Then he kissed her.

  On the lips. Tongue and everything.

  Huh?

  She just went with it and even reciprocated a bit, not wanting to start another impromptu duel. At least it felt kinda good, made her a bit warm and fuzzy inside. Maybe it was the start of a quicky, though it didn’t feel like it. He just kept on kissing, on and on, not even trying to feel up his sex slave’s needy naughty places. Why did he have to be so weird? Her intuition refused to click into place.

  But one fact was certain: Uncle Vincent was going to receive some mail shortly. Row was her possession and the Order wasn’t going to take him away.

  Chapter 17

  F Difficulty

  At the other end of Draconia, many leagues off the west coast, deep within North Greenwood, Jonathan Bladestrider lived once more, once again, respawning at the human capital in a twinkle of light and fire magic. He stood with his head held high, donned in a standard linen garb all new adventurers wore; except he was no ordinary new adventurer; he was Jonathan reborn, here to bring forth an era of true righteousness and love, here to mend the wounds which Rowan Black and Gabby LeMort had dealt to these lands and its innocents, to burn their evil legion down to ash and regrow a glorious world from those ashes. It was truth. It was right. It was…

  Justice!

  Catching his eye, the two quest alerts at the side of his vision were still glowing, one in a fiery-red border and the other in gold light.

  Quest Update: Red Dragon’s Challenge

  You passed the Red Dragon’s challenge, made your way to the Matriarch’s chamber, and proved your worth to their nameless god.

  Reward: Dragon Stone, Journey to the Matriarch once more to claim the full reward.

  New Quest (Path of Tribulation): Dragon’s Path

  Care for your Dragon Stone, bathe it in fire and warmth, and let it hatch in time, then finalize your bond with the whelp within. It is a simple task.

  Difficulty: F

  Length: Medium

  Recommended Level: 1

  Failure conditions: Your Dragon Stone is destroyed.

  Success conditions: Your Dragon Stone hatches and you bond with your whelp.

  Reward: World Boss ascension.

  World Boss. What an honor! What a privilege!

  “I am Jon Bladestrider,” he whispered into the run-down courtyard fountain’s waters, the warm crystal egg cradled in his arms. “Dragon Initiate.”

  Level one, reborn, on the path to attaining the legendary status of World Boss, which no other adventurer had ever attained. He was one of the first, if not the first to uncover this hidden secret of the world—that adventurers could become World Bosses. Jonathan Bladestrider: the one and only on the road to greatness. No darkie would ever bring terror to the world again. No darkie would be allowed to attain this power. No darkie would ever hold power over him again, over light. The scales of justice was finally tipping into a rightful balance.

  Dismissing the alerts with a respectful nod, Jonathan once more thanked the dragons and their god for their mercy, their generosity, then wordlessly vowed to not let down them or any of his friends and fellow innocents ever again. Never again.

  Never again starting from now. Time for action!

  First things first, he checked his character stats, inventory, and social windows. Everything was in order: he was indeed a level one again; all his old Paladin gear was stashed in the Whelpleather Pouch at his hip, and the pouch wouldn’t accept the stone; his social window was as before, filled with offline friends he had made during his adventures with Light’s Justice. Few were logging back in, Lance and the others still offline along with the majority of the officers, the guild chat barren. A shame, for Jonathan yearned to break the wondrous news to his allies: a player World Boss would soon walk the world of Aeon.

  The next course of action was to get his behind to the closest market building and pick up some beginner gear with the little gold he had saved up. Sword, shield, armor, skill scrolls, and potions were on Jonathan’s shopping list. He didn’t need any ranged firepower now with a dragon at his side.

  On the way to market, the squalor of the outskirts, the sight of the poorest neighborhoods, hit Jonathan harder than before. He hadn’t been here in a long, long while, and it hadn’t been this bad before. It hadn’t been so… depraved. What on Aeon had happened?

  Jonathan hugged his precious stone closer to his chest and swallowed a sour taste while marching through cracked, weedy cobbled roads, plain dirt in many places, saved from human waste thanks to the magical bathrooms of this world. Among the muddy streets and run-down, rotten buildings lingered the poor, sick, and homeless, coughs, begs, and cries calling out to Jonathan as he strode past without a glance, without a word.

  He couldn’t help them, for he was barely more wealthier, and he was no Priest or support. He couldn’t do anything for them, especially when he was but a level one with horrid profession levels. They hadn’t been reset, thankfully, if it even were to matter.

  "Please, adventurer, help," said a
weak voice. A middle-aged lady in stained, smelly rags limped forth, a quilt bundle in her hold.

  Jonathan examined. Two popups appeared.

  Kelly White (Human): Level 27

  Health: 73%

  Stamina: 32%

  Mana: 100%

  Debuffs: Hunger

  Blake White (Human): Level 1

  Health: 64%

  Stamina: 54%

  Mana: 100%

  Debuffs: Hunger, Illness (T1)

  A baby, Jonathan recognized, and it was sick, so he stopped in his pace to do anything and everything in his power to help. How could he not? It was the right thing to do. It was just. Shifting the Dragon Stone to one arm, he reached into his pouch and fetched one of his few remaining Cure Potions—a vial of bitter turquoise liquid—and handed it to the woman. "Here. Take this. For your son’s illness."